#all credit to my friend for this incredible idea | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wileys-russo · 6 months

Text

kiss and make up II a.russo x unc!reader

gif credits to @russogifs & @ohgrays

request - unc era remains her most powerful & my all time fave. kiss and make up II a.russo

you glanced up from your book hearing a knock on your dorm room door, repeated by a few more impatient knocks when you didn't answer in five seconds, only confirming you knew who was there before you even opened it.

"go away!" you called out, not moving from your place on your bed with a roll of your eyes. "babe come on, open the door." a familiar english accent called out, the girl knocking again as you shook your head.

"i am not in the mood to argue again alessia, go away." you repeated firmly. "baby please! i didn't come here to argue, let me in." your girlfriend groaned, and a small thud lead you to believe her head had thumped dejectedly against the wood.

the two of you had been seeing one another for six or so months now and you were normally nothing but enamored with the superstar striker.

her energetic personality paired with her effortless charm and accent was a combination that had you swooning after just a couple of dates. so much so that when she'd asked you to be her girlfriend she hadn't even finished getting the question out before you'd said yes.

you rarely argued, normally too busy being disgustingly smitten with one another and teased relentlessly by your friends for it. though when you did argue neither of you ever backed down both incredibly stubborn and sure you were right while the other was wrong.

last night you'd both been dragged to a frat party with some of alessia's teammates, none of them drinking given the fact they had a game the next day but the fomo of not going was too strong to stay away from the event regardless.

not any sort of athlete yourself you'd had no reason not to drink, and though you'd only had a few it was enough that alessia had accused you got a little too handsy with another girl and disrespected her in front of her teammates and friends.

though your recollection of events was that all you did was dance with a girl from your ethics class you got to talking to, which you only did because your own girlfriend refused to get up and join you. too busied in the company of her teammates to pay you much more attention than wanting you sat on her lap all night while she chattered away to them.

"lessi are you sure this is the best idea? you've got a game tomorrow." you checked in with a slight frown of concern, finishing your makeup and turning toward where she sat on your bed.

"it'll be absolutely fine babe. none of the girls are drinking and i'll be keeping a sure eye on that as captain. i think most of them are just going for a hook up or because they're scared something cool will happen like the foam party last time and we'll all miss out." alessia laughed, making grabby hands at you soon as you were within reach.

"okay, so long as you're sure." you gave in, still not thinking it was a great idea but with no commitments of your own tomorrow you could still enjoy yourself, and parties were never as much fun without your girlfriend.

not that there was a chance in hell she'd ever let you go to one without her anyway.

"sit still please." you warned, settling yourself to straddle her lap as her hands fell to your hips, just slipping up the inside of your top .

"baby do you want this done or not? because i can't be expected to concentrate if you move your hands much higher." you warned with an amused smile as her large hands started to rub up and down your sides, causing you to flinch a little as her rings brushed your ribs.

"i thought women were supposed to be able to multi task?" the blonde teased with a grin, leaning in to press a few sweet kisses to your lips but you pushed at her shoulders before she could take them any further.

she seemed to settle after that, allowing you to finish her makeup as her hands now lay dormant on your thighs, her knee bouncing a little underneath you but you were more than used to that, the english girl hardly ever able to sit entirely still.

"done, you look perfect as always." you complimented, pecking her lips and trying to stand but her arms tightly encircled your waist preventing that. "where you goin?" the blonde rasped, your heart swooning at her thick accent, hand moving to the back of your neck and tugging you into a proper kiss.

"you look so beautiful, my lovely girl, my pretty girl." your girlfriend mumbled as she pulled away, lazily kissing your jaw a few times, focus shifting to your neck. within seconds she found your sweet spot, tongue gliding teasily over the taunt skin before her lips began to shower it with attention.

though before her teeth could join the party to mark you like she so loved to there was a sudden and endless amount of knocking on your door, a mixed chorus of voices yelling for the two of you to hurry up.

"that's our cue." you smiled, cupping her face and stealing one final kiss before you stood, hurrying over to open the door as a horde of girls all piled in, grabbing both you and alessia as you managed to snag your phone before you were dragged away and your door slammed closed behind you.

it was a couple of hours later and you were nursing your third drink of the night, pleasantly teetering on the edge of being tipsy as you sat on alessia's lap, her chin resting on your shoulder as she talked with her friends.

her large hands sat possessively on your hips, squeezing every now and then to gain your attention when someone asked you something and you didn't answer, lips occasionally pressing a tender kiss to the back of your bare shoulder blade or your cheek. but beyond that you were starved for any sort of real attention from the blonde and that was taking its own toll.

admittedly quite bored of the conversations between the group you were sat with, which all seemed to center around team couple drama or strategies for tomorrows game, you found yourself frequently zoning out and watching on as your peers danced and drank around you, seemingly having a much better time.

"wanna go dance?" you leaned back a little and murmured in your girlfriends ear with a hopeful smile. "later baby." she answered, returning your smile and pecking your lips before immediately tuning back into another conversation.

still watching as the party raged on you looked longingly to where you spotted see a group of your own friends playing beer pong.

your best friend alex caught your eye, frantically waving you over as you gestured to your girlfriends hands holding you firmly on her lap and within a second she was in front of you.

"can i steal your girl for a game of beer pong russo?" alex winked, hand finding yours and pulling you up to your feet. "you can but good luck winning with her as your partner." alessia smirked as you scoffed, playfully shoving her head to the side and bending down to kiss her goodbye, tugged away by your best friend.

you'd meet her eye every now and then, watching you protectively as her gaze flickered between you and her friends, making sure you were still within her sight at all times as you finally started to relax and let your hair down a little more.

unfortunately given alex was practically blind drunk and you had horrific aim you'd lost your game, kicked off the table and forced to down a 'punishment shot' of god knows what but it burned as you swallowed it with a grimace.

"the music is calling me babe lets go dance!" alex yelled in your ear as you nodded, telling her you'd go and meet her as you set off back toward alessia who perked up at the sight.

"hi gorgeous." the taller girl smiled happily, quick to tug you back down onto her lap. "alex wants to dance, come with me? please?" you pouted hopefully, cupping her face as you sweetly kissed her, thumb tracing tenderly over her bottom lip.

"mm but i missed you baby girl, just stay here with me." alessias hands gently squeezed your hips and she watched happily as you melted at the term of endearment, ready to give into whatever she wanted as she knew was normally the case if she pushed the right buttons.

but catching your best friend waiting patiently for you across the room, giving you hurry up eyes you snapped out of it.

"baby i'm tired of talking about soccer or whose sneaking around with who, just come dance with me pretty please." you whispered, kissing beneath her ear a few times as her grip tightened, you also knowing exactly how to push her buttons to get what you wanted.

"russo! you listening or what?" but she too was snapped out of it as one of the girls smacked her shoulder, jolting her attention back toward them as she nodded, ignoring your request as you rolled your eyes.

"where you off to?" she questioned as you stood, grabbing your wrist with a raised eyebrow. "you don't want to dance? fine. but i'm not sitting here on your lap all night like some sort of trophy." you tugged your hand away, walking off before she could say another word as a few of her teammates whistled and oohed teasingly.

"shut up!" alessia warned them sharply with a glare as she scowled after your retreating figure, ordering one of the girls to swap seats with her, still ensuring you were within her eyesight as you were twirled away by alex.

"this is mia!" you looked up from where you'd been dancing with alex and a few of your friends to the girl who'd joined you. "oh hey you're in my ethics tut?" you recognised, hugging her in hello as she nodded.

"you're russo's girl right? i've seen you at the games, i'm good friends with lois we have a few classes together." she smiled making you roll your eyes.

"i am. but i also go by y/n!" you replied making her laugh, alex squealing happily as one of her favourite songs came on and she pulled you both into a hug, drunkenly belting out the lyrics and swaying side to side making you grin.

alessia felt her jaw clench as she watched on as alex was swooped away by a boy leaving you to dance with a girl she didn't know, seeing the way her arms wrapped around you, pulling your body into hers and making you laugh.

the way alessia should have been holding you, and the way she normally would make you laugh.

"don't pay them enough attention and they'll find it somewhere else hey less!" one of her teammates teased with a wink, lotte shoving her harshly with a glare for the comment.

she turned to try and check in with alessia but she was already gone, marching her way over to you. "lessi baby! lets dance." you cheered happily as she appeared, face lighting up as mia stepped back and alessia fixed her with a hard glare.

a look which didn't go unnoticed by you as alessia took the half full drink out of your hand, placing it on a table and possessively wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you away as you quickly sent mia an apologetic look.

"babe what are you-" "we're leaving."

unsure what had happened to cause the drop in her mood you allowed her to guide you outside, her hand falling to the small of your back as she pushed her way through the crowded frat house, the two of you finally inhaling fresh air as you made your way outside.

"less what's wrong? what happened?" you stopped to grab her face with a concerned frown, the taller girl only pulling off your hands and shaking her head, storming off as you hurried to keep up.

"hey baby, talk to me." you grabbed her hand stopping her in her tracks, the two of you alone and a fair way away from the party now. "are you trying to disrespect and embarrass me?" she scoffed suddenly causing your frown to deepen.

"what? of course not, why would you even think that?" you asked, hopelessly confused to where this was all coming from.

"first you yell at me in front of my friends and then you get all handsy with some other girl in view of the whole team when you think i'm not paying you enough attention? im the captain, do you know how bad that looks?" she continued, fixing you with an unimpressed glare as your face hardened.

"alessia please tell me you're joking." you laughed, though there wasn't a drop of humour behind your tone. "you're the only one laughing." she'd warned, and that was enough for you.

"for starters i didn't even want to go to that stupid party in the first place, i'd have much rather spent the night just with you like we normally do before your games." you started with a shake of your second.

"second of all once we got there you basically ignored me all night to talk shit with your teammates who you already spent the entire day with training. you barely made an effort to include me in any of the conversation bar wanting me sat on your lap to show off to everyone that mighty captain russo has a girlfriend." you snarled, pushing at her chest angrily as the taller girl barely moved despite the force you'd shoved her with.

"third of all i wanted you to come and dance with me but of course you were too busy being captain alessia russo tar heels superstar striker!" you mocked with a roll of your eyes, your girlfriend grabbing your hands tightly in hers as you tried to shove her again.

"so you don't get your own way and decide to go throw a tantrum and grind on some other girl to disrespect and humiliate me in front of the team and try to what? make me jealous?" alessia chuckled as you yanked your hands away.

"oh fuck you! of course you make yourself the victim." you shook your head in disbelief, hands flying to your neck as you undid the necklace she'd given you, the small silver A silently claiming you as hers.

'don't talk to me until you pull your head out of your ass." you warned tossing the necklace at her as she caught it, storming away and flipping her off as she called after you.

you made a beeline for your dorm building, alessia watching you go with a glare before she scoffed and headed off toward her own room, head swirling with a mess of different emotions.

and that brought you back to right now as your girlfriend knocked impatiently on your door and whined for you to let her in, neither one of you having spoken since your fight last night.

getting up with a huff you pulled the door open, the blonde perking up as you did so, already dressed and ready in her uniform for her game later.

"have you come to apologise then?" you asked sharply, crossing your arms and fixing her with a glare as you blocked her from entering your room with your body. though really you both knew if she wanted to move you it would be a more than easy task for the taller well built soccer star.

"can i come in so we can talk? please." alessia pleaded, eyes flickering around to the nosy gazes from some of your peers who lingered in their doorway watching the couple.

not particularly wanting an audience for if round two of your argument kicked off you rolled your eyes and stepped aside so she could come in, closing the door after her.

"don't sit. unless you're here to say you're sorry for being a self obsessed jealous asshole, you won't be here long." you snipped as she moved toward your bed, jaw clenching and posture stiffening slightly at your words but she stayed standing none the less.

"i hate fighting with you. can we please forget it happened and just move on?" the english girl asked hopefully, rocking back and forth on her heels as you laughed. "was that your idea of an apology then? get out." you pointed back to the door as alessia groaned, throwing her head back.

"i'm sorry! but we've not spoken all day and it's killing me. i miss you baby, miss my pretty girl." the taller girl pouted taking a step closer and playing with the bottom of your hoodie, looking down at you with her alluringly bright blue eyes and your stubborn resolve wavered for just a moment until you snapped out of it.

"don't you have warm ups to get to?" you pushed her hands away with a raised eyebrow, eyes running up and down her navy blue uniform, number 19 splashed proudly across the front of her chest and given it was coming into the cooler season she'd put a matching navy long sleeve on underneath.

"well yeah but..." she trailed off, pursing her lips and looking anywhere but you as you just raised an eyebrow at her behavior. "you know we always...before every game." alessia hinted still refusing to meet your eyes, as you finally caught on to what she wanted.

"alessia. please tell me you didn't only come here to say a half ass sorry because you want me to kiss you good luck?" you scoffed in disbelief, letting out a bark of sarcastic laughter.

"whats wrong with that? i wasn't lying i hate fighting with you babe and it's part of my pre game routine its our little ritual. i'll play terribly if we don't kiss!" alessia whined, the taller girl grabbing for your hands with another pout.

"you are unbelievable!" you pulled them away, turning around and opening the door, gesturing for her to leave. "just a small one? or on the cheek? a peck even? baby please!" alessia tried again with a whine and a pleading look, hovering by the door.

"fine, but just a peck." you agreed bluntly, her entire face lighting up as she pursed her lips, just moments before they tasted wood as you promptly slammed your door in her face.

"hey!" alessia scoffed with a scowl, only met with a firm request from you for her to fuck off as she huffed, kicking your door angrily and storming off.

you glanced down by your side as your phone vibrated over and over, but assuming it would just be your friends trying to convince you to come and watch the game you didn't bother to look.

but as the notifications continue to pour in your curiosity got the best of you and you grabbed the device, flipping it over and quickly realising it had been calls not texts that you'd been screening.

another one coming in you clicked accept, holding it up to your ear. "what al? i'm trying to study." you sighed. "you need to get here and fix this mess!" you frowned at her allusive words. "sorry?" you asked in confusion.

"alessia has missed five sitters, two of them the goalie wasn't even there and she still missed! i don't care what you're fighting about, she needs you." the girl remanded making you groan. "less is a big girl alex! so she has an off day, those happen." you rolled your eyes.

"um excuse me where is your school spirit? this is bigger than some stupid argument and i personally have money riding on this game. and they need these three points to be in a good place for if we want to make the championships!" the girl huffed as you again let out a groan, putting her on speaker and hurrying around to get ready.

"and that's my fault? how! she's the one who messed up and got all moody and jealous over nothing." you scoffed, shoving your feet into your shoes.

"i don't understand how her wanting you causes an issue? if anything babe jealousy is hot! honestly i'll never understand you silly little lesbians. just be happy and in love with each other keep it stupid simple. now get your ass here and save this game!" and with those wise words of wisdom imparted on you your best friend promptly ended the call as you stepped out of your room.

"finally! god it's almost half time dude." alex groaned, grabbing your hand and yanking you harshly down into the seat beside her, causing you to send an apologetic smile to the boy next to you who you'd almost sat on.

"what happened to her hand?" you questioned, eyebrows knitted together as you spotted your girlfriend with two fingers taped up together, her usual pink med tape headband making her easy to find on the field.

"got stomped on by that huge number four when she slid in for a tackle, also something that never happens to her!" alex shoved you, clearly insinuating it was somehow your fault.

"okay you clearly don't know her well enough off the pitch then because she is a walking hazard. she's like one of those puppies with massive paws who hasn't worked out how to walk!" you huffed as the whistle blew signalling the first half was over.

"go fix it! now." alex ordered as you were once again manhandled by the impatient brunette. "god you're so bossy. why do i keep hanging out with you?" you huffed quietly causing her to smack you with a playful glare.

hurrying down the stairs you waited by the sideline as the team had already entered the change rooms for their half time talk, well most of the team.

"you came! does less know you're here? she's been a mopey miserable mess man." you jumped as lotte appeared, not playing today due to a small strain in her calf.

"no we sort of had it out before when she came by for her good luck kiss and didn't come with an apology for last night." you rolled your eyes as lotte winced. "look mate we both know she's far from perfect but some of the girls took it too far with the teasing comments. i'm not saying whatever happened was justified but they did push her." lotte squeezed your shoulder with an empathetic smile.

"yeah well until she apologises and speaks to me herself about it i'm still pissed off with her. but i heard she's having a stinker and i think if i don't try to fix it i'm gonna be public enemy number one." you sighed, nodding to where alex was watching on with narrowed eyes.

though before lotte could say another word the team began to file out, lead out by their captain who spotted you almost right away, lotte excusing herself as your girlfriend replaced her.

before she could speak you grabbed her hand, pulling the two of you a little more out of sight in the tunnel. "i'm still angry with you but you have to get out of your own head less. you're better than this!" you reminded firmly but not unkindly as the blonde only nodded.

you cut off her attempt to speak as you balled her jersey in your fists and pulled her into a kiss, pushing her away as her eyes widened in shock. "now go score a goal, captain." you ordered, pointing back to the pitch as alessia could only nod again.

she turned to leave as you did too but before you could take a step your body was pressed against the wall of the tunnel, the english girl looming over you.

"i'm really sorry for last night baby, you were right and i was out of line and i'm so sorry for making you feel ignored. i'm gonna say it all properly after the game but i want you to know that i love you, so much." and with that her hands flew to your cheeks and her lips were back on yours.

angry with her or not there was no denying the erruption of butterflies in your stomach as she kissed you, running her tongue along your bottom lip before it evaded your mouth, the blonde stealing the air from your lungs before the whistle blew and she pushed herself away.

"gonna go score for you now pretty girl." the striker smiled, pecking your lips a few more times with a soft smile before sprinting off as her coach screamed out her name, 19 on her back disappearing onto the pitch as you blinked a few times in shock.

pulling yourself together you hurried back to your seat beside alex who smirked seeing your flushed cheeks as you ignored her teasings, focusing on the game.

and score for you she did, with two cracking the back of the net within ten minutes as alex almost pulled you onto her shoulders with glee. the final score winding up 4-0 you joined in with the rest of the spectators and students, whistling and cheering loudly, not missing how alessia's eyes found yours with a big dopey grin.

leaving her to shower and change you hung back with alex who eagerly recounted with far too much detail how the rest of her night went, rolling your eyes at her midnight encounters with the same boy she'd been hung up on who never paid her any mind unless he was drunk.

a gentle hand on your waist pulled you back from her story telling, alex stopping mid sentence with a knowing smile. "and thats my cue, i'll call you later with the rest. you better look after her russo, i know where you live!" alex warned, jokingly though her words were somewhat serious as alessia nodded feverishly.

"hi." you turned to look at her, the taller girl now changed out of her uniform and into grey sweats and an oversized black and blue tar heels hoodie, one you frequently stole from her. "can i walk you back to your dorm?" alessia asked hopefully causing a small smile to curl onto your lips as you nodded.

"i'm so sorry for my behaviour last night. i shouldn't have let the girls wind me up or have taken it out on you, i know you'd never cheat or do anything like that. i just don't like seeing someone touch whats mine." the possessive words sent your stomach into a flip despite the soft and caring tone they were said with.

"i'm sorry if i embarassed you in front of the team i promise i didn't mean to. i just wanted to spend time with you, even at a stupid frat party. but i shouldn't have just snapped." you apologised, slipping your hand into hers causing a surprised smile to appear on her features as the two of you made your way across campus.

"no you were right babe i was being a dickhead, but i won't lie i do like showing you off." alessia smiled charmingly, bringing your intertwined hands to her mouth and placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

"why you laughing? that was a nice comment!" alessia frowned as you laughed. "it sounds funny when you say dickhead in your cute little accent." you grinned as the two of you reached your dorm, you letting the pair of you in.

"come here." you squealed as the blonde dropped her kit bag to the floor and wasted no time grabbing your thighs, hauling you up into her arms as your legs wrapped around her waist and she flopped down onto your bed.

"there's much more graceful ways to get me into bed russo." you teased, kissing her nose and beaming as she scrunched it up adorably. "thats baby to you thanks." the girl pouted as you wasted no time kissing it away, alessia flipping the two of you over so she was hovering over you.

"think you forgot something though." she sat up, hips hovering over yours as she reached into the pocket, pulling out the necklace you'd tossed at her last night and shuffling back so you could sit up.

you sat up and held your hair back as you felt her settle behind you, moving to clasp it back around your neck, her lips peppering gentle kisses across the skin before you turned to face her.

you let out a laugh as she playfully tackled you back down to the bed, holding herself up above you with one arm her thumb pawed at the silver A now hanging rightfully back around your neck before they moved to gently traced the curve of your jaw.

bright blue eyes staring adoringly down into yours as you reached up to pull her hair out as it fell around the two of you like a curtain and she leaned down closer, her lips ghosting yours.

"my girl."

#woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #woso fanfics #alessia russo #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso

857 notes · View notes

intoanotherworld23 · 14 days

Text

Take My Heart

Summary: Working as a waitress in one of the most popular night clubs in the city seemed like a breeze. Then you’re asked to work the infamous dark rooms where you meet the owners, and you catch the eye of one of them, Joel Miller, whose one of the most feared men and rules the city

Pairings: Reader x Joel Miller

Warnings: cursing, mention of sex, mention of sex toys, drinking, and mention of drugs

A/N: If anyone wishes to create a banner for me for this series I would greatly appreciate it, and of course you will be given full credit for it! Message me if you are able to do so! Thank you so much everyone and enjoy! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

"Your late." The bartender Eric nagged as soon as you walked over to the register to clock in for the night. "Again."

"Yeah yeah I know." Waving him off as he laughed at you.

"How do you manage to be late all the time when you live just down the block?" Raising an eyebrow at you.

"You think this makes a lot of tips looking like one of the undead?" Motioning your pointer finger around your face.

"I don't think the guys are really looking at your face babe."

"Well this helps too." Pushing your boobs up for emphasis.

"How you are still single is baffling to me." His words holding more meaning than what you realized.

Dressing provocatively was a part of the job. Hiring pretty girls showing off their bodies to a bunch of drunk and horny men was how the club stayed so successful. Granted a lot of clubs were like that, but there was something about this club that was different. Something this club offered to their guests that kept them flocking in.

It was called the dark rooms. Watching as different girls were pulled into one of the rooms men leaving with satisfied looks on their faces. All you were told was that their VIP's hung out there, but you had a very good idea as to what happened behind those black curtains.

Throwing your purse behind the bar where you usually kept it knowing it would be well looked after. Not that you had much money or anything for anyone to steal. None the less it still was money to you.

The club was incredibly packed tonight, and you knew the tips were going to be amazing. It wasn't just exactly an ideal job, but being a bottle service girl was about as good as you were going to get. You didn't have any family or friends so you didn't have anyone to turn to.

"You don't think she'll be pissed do you?" Now actually starting to worry this time she wouldn't be nice.

"Nah I think you'll be fine."

"God I hope so my rent is due this week so I need the money."

Even though you didn't have the best apartment it was better than nothing, and unfortunately it was also an expensive one. It was better than nothing at this point.

"You're lucky she likes you."

"Ya know when you're perfect." Sending a cocky wink over to him as he shook the mixer over his shoulder.

"Oh yeah what would we do without you." He sarcastically spoke.

"Oh shut the fuck up Eric you wish you were like me." Flipping your hair back over your shoulder with a grin.

"Get to work before you actually get in trouble this time." Throwing a dirty rag at you causing you to burst into laughter.

Walking by the crowded tables as you headed into your bosses office to let her know you were finally here. Hoping that this time she wouldn't be actually mad at you since you really needed the money.

"Beth." Knocking lightly on the cracked door to see her sitting there typing away on the computer. "Hiya."

"Don't even try it." Looking up from the computer with a straight face.

Bowing your head as you awkwardly stood there with your hands behind your back. It was like your parent had just caught you doing something you shouldn't have, and you didn't know what was about to happen.

"I'm sorry."

"Of all nights you had to be late again." Standing up from her chair walking over to you.

"I'm sorry I took longer than what I thought." Apologizing again more sincere this time.

"You know how important tonight is for me."

"What's happening tonight?" Scrunching your brows.

"The owners are coming here." Answering bewildered that you didn't know. "So everything has to be perfect."

That explains her behavior the past couple of weeks, and why she had been frantically running around the club stressing over small things that she never did before.

"The owners?"

"Yes the owners. The ones who own this fucking club." Running a hand through her hair frantically. "The Miller Brothers. Tommy and Joel Miller."

"Never heard of em."

"They're powerful men in this city. Nobody fucks with them." It sounded more like a warning to you.

"They don't sound that scary to me." Crossing your arms across your chest.

"God you're so lucky you're pretty." She scoffed as she walked back over to her desk.

As she sat back down you took that as he way of dismissing you. Turning back to the door about to head out when her words stopped you in your tracks.

"Oh you'll be working the dark rooms tonight. One of the girls called in sick so I need you to cover for her."

"What?" Eyes wide open now. "But I've never worked the dark rooms before. I don't know what to do."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." She reassured you as you took a sigh of relief. "Just know that men pay very good money to have a pretty thing to wrap their arm around."

You knew exactly what kinds of sinful acts took place in the dark rooms, and the thought of some sleazy businessman paying you for sexual favors made your skin crawl. That wasn't the kind of thing you did or would put yourself through.

"What if they force me?"

"That's why we have security and cameras to make sure the girls stay safe."

"Why can't you ask one of the other girls?" Asking her in hopes she might ask someone else.

"Because they aren't as attractive as you."

"What if I don't want to work the dark rooms?"

"Then you better start looking for another job." Her tone serious and her eyes scowling at you that she wasn't playing around.

The two of you staring at each other as you contemplated whether this job was worth it or not. You could use some extra cash, but the thought of one of those men touching you against your will made your stomach churn. She did tell you that you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to, but then you'd be missing out on a lot of money.

It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Having an angel on one shoulder, and the devil on the other. This would just be a one time thing though. So maybe it wouldn't be as horrible as you thought.

"Okay I'll do it." She smiled upon hearing that.

"Good. Go find Kara and she'll give you the rundown of everything."

Not saying anything else you simply nodded and took your leave. Your heart was racing and your palm was sweating already feeling nervous about what could happen tonight. Things could go smoothly or they could be a nightmare. Either way you just wanted this night to be over.

Looking around the club for Kara. Trying to spot her wild curly red hair through the sea of people. Finally spotting her talking to a group of men at a table. Flashing her pretty smile and placing a hand on their arms clearly trying to get a bigger tip.

Kara had been here longer than anyone else, and knew how to work her charm on the customers. She had also worked the dark room more than anyone else either. So you knew that she was making good money.

You'd exchanged conversation with her from time to time, but never really got close with her. She was friendly enough, but you knew she wasn't in this job to make friends, but make a shit load of money.

"Hey Kara." Shouting her name as she turned around to see who called her name. "I'm working the dark rooms tonight and Beth said you'd help me."

"Perfect follow me." Showing off her whitened teeth as she headed up the stairs you following right behind her.

"So you're working the dark rooms tonight huh?" She sounded almost amused when she asked.

"Yeah I guess so."

"Do you even know what happens in the dark rooms?" Stopping at the top to face you.

"I have a pretty good idea what happens." Your response making her grin.

She could tell just by looking at you that you were like a scared little bunny. Just the thought of going into one of these rooms petrified you. Let alone a man requesting you to stay in the rooms.

"There are different kind of rooms." Stating as you now stood in the hallway noticing some had curtains for doors. "Some rooms have dance poles. Some rooms just have large couches for relaxing, and some rooms have toys in them."

"Toys?"

"Yeah ya know sex toys and all that." Jesus Christ this place was much darker than what you thought.

"Then there's the VIP room." Standing in front of a deep and dark red double door. "Only the owners can access this room. They have it locked at all times, and they each have a key."

"What kind of men are these guys?" Asking her but not really asking her.

"The kind of men women want to be with and the type that men are scared of."

"Have you ever met them?"

"Yeah I did once." Reminiscing about the time they came in and you could practically see the drool coming out of her mouth. "Joel doesn't ever request any of the girls."

"Why not?"

"It's not really his thing." The two of you heading back down to the stairs. "Besides that man never has had to pay for sex."

"Right."

"So what exactly all do I need to do?" Asking her as you started to walk back down the hall.

"All you gotta do is smile and look pretty." That didn't sound too hard to do. "Bigger tips if you sit on their lap and let them touch you by the way."

Never mind.

You didn't know whether to take her words as a warning or not. The way she said it made it sound like that man always gets what he wants no matter what. The thought of meeting this man had your stomach churning.

Staring at yourself in the mirror trying to compose yourself as time was getting closer. Taking a shot of tequila to calm your nerves just a little bit. For all you know these could be incredible dangerous men, and your about to walk right into the lions den.

Maybe they wouldn't take a second look at you and leave you all alone. That was wishful thinking though considering these men were powerful and some of them were owners. It would be in your best interest to not say no to these men.

"Y/N let's go, there here."

Your stomach was doing somersaults now. Palms were starting to sweat, and your heart was beating so fast you could hear it in your ears. There wasn't any chance you'd be able to slip out of there. You were just gonna have to suck it up, and get the night over with.

Maybe it would be a piece of cake, and the night would be over before you know it.

"Here bring them this bottle." Eric handing you a tray that had shot glasses and a bottle of very expensive tequila as you walked past the bar.

"I didn't even know we had this here." Examining the chic looking bottle like you were holding diamonds.

"Nobody else can order that except them." Pouring liquor into a martini glass. "You better get moving they don't like to be kept waiting."

"Which room are they in?"

"First room on your left." Nodding as he gave you an encouraging smile.

Trying your best to not trip or drop the glass as you cautiously walked up the stairs to the rooms. Not knowing exactly how many men were going to be in this room.

As you approached the room you could already hear deep voices talking. Sounding like there were multiple men in there. Noticing there was four shot glasses which suggested to you that there was four men. Which wasn't too bad you've dealt with almost triple the amount of men before.

"There she is." A voice boomed as soon as you stood in the doorway.

"Where's the other girl?" Not knowing who said that as your eyes were focused on the ground.

"She called in today so Beth has me working." Answering quickly your voice quivering.

"Remind me to thank Beth." The same unknown person said making your cheeks heat up at the compliment.

Finally looking up to look at them as the red and blue lights illuminating their bodies as they sat around a table. All of them were wearing very nice suits, and their hair was styled back. They were all very good looking men, but there was one who immediately caught your eye.

He was incredibly handsome in almost a he didn't seem real. Like he was hand crafted by the gods himself, and he wasn't actually a human being. He was too perfect for words. Trying not to drool being in the same room as him.

His honey brown eyes had been staring at you since you walked in the room. Following you as you placed the glasses in front of them, and pouring them each a shot. Trying your best not to shake under his intense gaze.

The other three continued to talk as if they couldn't care less about you being in here. Which oddly made you feel relieved that they weren't trying to harass you or anything like that.

"Cheers to a good night boys." One of them toasted as they downed the first shot.

"Hell of a day." A man with tattoos on his neck continued.

"I can still see the look on their faces as we fooled them." The one that toasted said. "We totally had them by the balls they were so scared."

"Fucking idiots." The attractive one chuckled.

"Did they really just think we were going to just take the money, and not keep the g-." His voice cut off by an elbow being jabbed into his side.

"Shut the fuck up Don."

Okay that was a little weird. Obviously didn't want you to hear whatever he was about to say. Not that you would have really remembered anyway, since your mind was just focusing on getting the night over with.

Now you were feeling awkward not knowing if you had to stay in here. It wasn't clarified if you could come and go as you pleased. Not wanting to upset anyone by leaving, and they needed something. Two of these men were the owners you just didn't know who.

"Now for even more fun." Watching as the one who had tattoos on his neck pull out a bag with white stuff in it.

"Jesus fuck Andrew." The super attractive one groaned angrily.

"What?" Shrugging his shoulders as he continued to dump some on the table, pulling out a razor blade messing with the powder.

"What did I say about doing that here?" His voice stern in a warning tone.

"I mean you've said it but that doesn't mean I'm gonna listen." Cutting up some lines ignoring Joel's warning.

"I said not here." Raising his voice slightly.

"This is your club Joel." Ah so he was one of the owners. "Are you telling me I can't do this here? Or do you just not want the lady to see?"

Suddenly all four pair of eyes turned to your figure hiding in the corner. It felt as if now you were under some type of spot light. This was exactly what you were hoping to avoid, and now you were the topic.

"Andy knock it off." The fourth man spoke up. Noticing he had curly hair, and looked like he could be related to Joel. Maybe he was the brother.

"She doesn't need to see that shit." It was surprising that he was almost trying to shield you from the drugs.

"Like you don't snort this every other day Joel." He argued sarcastically back, and you could see Joel seething. "Or you either Tommy."

"I said not here." He didn't back down a vein popping out of his neck. "That's my final warning."

You could tell there was so much tension between the two of them. It was clear Joel was the man in charge, and this Andy guy was a trouble maker. The other two guys looked like they wanted to stay out of it.

Maybe Joel didn't want you seeing this cause you are new. Or maybe in a sense he was trying to impress you. It was probably because he didn't want you telling the cops on them or anything like that.

"What's your name sweetheart?" Andy smirking over at you ignoring Joel now.

Looking between the two men wondering if you should answer or just stay silent. Joel nodding his head signaling it was okay. Not sure why you were looking to him for approval anyway.

"Y/N." Sheepishly responding back to him.

"That's such a sexy name." Andrew smiled but his words just made you cringe.

"Thank you." Responding not wanting to make him angry.

That's when Andrew leaned forward more towards you giving Joel an evil look before turning his attention back to you. You could feel like things were just going to get worse.

"How would you feel about giving me a lap dance?"

Soon as the question left his lips Joel didn't hesitate to stand up, and stomp over to him ready to fight. The other two men standing up as well ready to hold him back from killing the man. Backing yourself up against the wall scared of what was about to happen.

Joel standing face to face with the man who just stood there smirking like he was winning. He acted like he wasn't terrified, but on the inside he was shitting his pants.

"What the fuck did you just say to her?"

#pedro pascal #Joel miller #Pedro pascal fic #Joel miller fic #Pedro pascal smut #Joel miller smut #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal series #Joel miller series #Pedro pascal fanfic #Joel miller fanfic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction

306 notes · View notes

artists-ally · 7 months

Text

{Only Me and the Devil Know} Azriel x Reader

Picture credit

So. I have no real explanation for this other than I was ready this AMAZING fic and it sparked an idea. That’s it. That all I can say. I’m already blushing. Blow up my inbox, comments, and dm's with your thoughts! Enjoy <3 Title from this song. (Ps. Thank you for all the support on the teaser????? You guys are insane I love you all so much)

Word Count: 12,169 (HOLY SHIT)

Warnings: SMUT. like seriously, this is nasty. Pre-established relationship and consent, CNC, dom/sub, role play (predator and prey), pet names (dove!reader and master!Azriel), breath play, overstimulation and forced orgasms, bondage, spanking, oral (m&f), breeding kink, degrading, humiliation, masochism, stalking, biting, minor blood.

Summary: Azriel has had this fantasy of you that he's been terrified to ask you to partake in. After explaining and agreeing, fear and desire blur together in a terrifying game of predator vs. prey.

Tagging: @librafairy @needylilgal022 @bunnymallowo

~~~~~

The tip of the sun caressed my skin through the window, gently waking me from whatever dream I had been having. My shoulder ached from having slept on it a little weird, and my eyes were bleary.

I wandered to the kitchen that overlooked the hills, boiling some water for some tea. When I looked around the room, I felt this sense of pride for how far I’ve come in this little city. Everything was as it should be.

After breakfast, I changed for the day. The familiar worn in overalls slipped on, tucking the ends into my boots. I threw on a long sleeve shirt, the beginning of fall nipping through the window. While it was nice to have a change of seasons, it made me sad to have to say goodbye to some of the flowers and vegetation of the summer.

I packed a lunch and headed out, locking the door behind me. The walk this early in the morning was always therapeutic; chirping birds and herd of deer along the edges of the forest across the meadow. The dirt and stones crunched under my feet as I walked down the self-forged path to my shop on the corner.

I pulled the sign from my little alley and set it up to display the new deals and sales. On my door was a folded piece of paper with my name in some of the most incredible font I’ve ever seen.

“Oh my sweet little dove, you look so precious in that outfit of yours. With your hair braided down your head. You don’t even know my name and yet I scream yours every night. Don’t worry, I already know everything about you.”

My heart dropped. I whirled around and looked down the street. The sun hadn’t even come up yet, so maybe whoever left it was still out there. No one. No one was around besides me. The breeze rustles my wind chimes, making it feel even more eerie.

What the fuck?

I read it over again, not recognizing the handwriting. I quickly unlock the door and lock it behind me. I quietly step through the shop, checking if there’s anyone inside. Maybe I shouldn’t have locked myself in here.

No one was inside, and I blew a sigh of relief. With my head on a constant swivel, I went about my day, checking every corner of every room I went in. A friend of mine, Cece, stopped by in the afternoon. She clearly noticed the wariness in my eyes.

“Someone just left it on your door? Yn, why don’t you report it?” She asked, disgust written in her eyebrows as she looked at it again and again.

“Well, who would I report it to?” I shrugged.

“Hmm, let me think. Oh, I don’t know, maybe our High Lord?” I rolled my eyes at her sarcasm. “Yn, it’s not safe! Someone is obviously stalking you.”

“I’m fine.” I lied. I was a wreck. A complete boneless, nervous wreck. Cece knew.

“Yn-”

“I can handle myself,” I shook my head. “If I need to, I have a dagger under the cash register.”

“Yeah because that’ll stop a full grown male,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m just worried, Yn. I don’t wanna have anything happen to you. Especially when we can prevent it.”

“I will be alright, don’t worry about me,” I waved off. “If I feel unsafe I’ll let you know. And Damien is right next door, surely he’ll be able to help if something goes wrong.”

With a sharp inhale, and an obvious disagreeing tone, she left it alone. I didn’t feel unsafe here, and it was the middle of the day. Who would attack someone in the middle of the day? In public nonetheless.

____

There wasn’t a note on the door the next day, thank the Cauldron, and I began planning for the town’s annual solstice celebration. It was still a few months away, but I had to preserve some flowers for the winter in order to make holiday arrangements.

I designed and sketched wreaths, garlands and some other things to be put into production. Having to hand make all of them was a pain, and I usually hired some more help to get things done a lot faster.

It was a rare slow day, and I enjoyed the peace and quiet. I watered and swept, wiping down tables and shelves. I couldn’t shake this feeling no matter how hard I tried. I felt like I was being watched. And there was this chill in the air. Inside my shop, which always remained in the seventies for the plants.

But it was cold. I checked the thermostat, and it was still where it needed to be. Why did it feel so fucking cold?

Maybe It was just me, and I was getting a little sick.

Whatever it was, it followed me all the way home. I knew my eyes were playing tricks on me. I kept seeing things in the shadows move, but whenever I got closer, nothing was there. Yup, definitely being paranoid now.

The next morning was the same; no note, but this agonizing feeling that I was being watched no matter where I was. I was still cold and could do nothing to warm up. I helped an older female find something for her granddaughter who had a music recital tonight. When I looked across the counter at her, there was nothing but my counter– and the flowers and her purse. But I dropped one of the coins and I bent to pick it up.

There was a note on the counter. With my name. In the same handwriting as before.

My throat closed, fingers tingling with panic. I quickly helped the lady along and stared at the piece of paper. Where the fuck did it come from. It was literally there in a second. What the actually fuck is going on?

“My dove, you know it’s rude to not write back. I don’t take kindly to indecency. But you won’t be able to avoid me forever. Rest up, dove. You’ll need it.”

Need it for what? My heart thundered against my ribs. Surely I should report this, but… but I didn’t want to. I don’t know why I didn’t want to, but I didn’t. It was probably just some kid trying to scare me. I kept telling myself that, but it hardly worked when I left, constantly checking over my shoulder.

I needed to head down the street to grab something for dinner. On the corner of the road was a group of people chatting loudly, a couple walking in front of me. There were people around. Good.

The Serpentine Supply was the only grocery store open this late. I made my way through the isles and plucked whatever looked good off the shelves. I could surely make… something with all of this.

When I headed out, there was no group on the corner. No couple walking in front of me. No crickets or last minute birds tucking themselves in for the night.

A silhouette was the only thing I saw. Tall, so tall, and muscular. A creeping shadow behind the figure, and as it moved, it revealed wings. So enormous they touched the ground despite his height.

I could almost recognize the face, but it looked vague. Like I had seen it before, but couldn’t recall where. Surely I’d remember a face that beautiful. Clearly High Fae. He shouldered off the wall, eyes set on me. I fled, almost dropping my bag, bolting in the opposite direction towards my home.

I heaved as I fell against the inside of my door. Curling my legs up, I listened for footsteps until I remembered the male had wings. Wings.

Fear coursed through me and I went to the safe under the cabinet in my room. I twisted the dial and plucked the dagger in my palm. I couldn’t breathe, let alone eat, so I sat at my kitchen table and waited to see if he would try to follow me in.

It could’ve just been a random male, I told myself. And it was probably more likely.

But what if that was- no. I can’t terrorize myself like that. This is all coincidental and I’m blowing all of this out of proportion. There is no reason someone would want to hurt me. But then again sometimes you don’t have to do something to have people want you-

Nope. Not going there.

_____

With basket in tow, I walked up the hillside to my personal field. Rows of still-in-season flowers greeted me as I rounded the crest. I lifted up my skirt and bent down, plucking the last of the summer blooms to be stored for the winter.

I was so happy when I discovered the preservation technique last Solstice so everyone could enjoy these beautiful flowers year round. I laid them all in the same direction, careful to not destroy the delicate petals.

It was actually a nice day, and the sun was warm despite a cooler breeze. The sundress I had put on was one I’ve worn a thousand times, the hemp dulled and frayed from years of wear and play in the dirt picking flowers and gardening. It was lightweight and easy to maneuver in. My feet were bare. No real need for shoes out here. I liked feeling the dirt between my toes anyway, shoes just got in the way and made my feet sweat.

I picked up a dahlia and laid it in the basket, reaching for another before I shrieked.

A dark tendril of something circled around it, through the petals and drenching it in darkness. I launched back away from it, hands breaking my fall.

“My dove, don’t you look pretty today,” a voice crept down my spine. I had only then realized I backed up into something solid. I scrambled, staring up at the figure. I had to shield my eyes from the sun, but a winged silhouette blocked it a second later.

Oh shit.

My brain fogged and words were long forgotten.

“It’s okay, dove. Don’t be afraid,” he spoke. His mouth curled into a feline smile when he took a step towards me, and I scooted back. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Oh, my pretty prey, don’t you see? You can’t run. You’re all alone out here, aren’t you?”

I shouldn’t answer, I can’t let him know that I’m all alone.

“N-No,” I stuttered, breathless and boneless. “No, I am not alone.”

“Don’t lie to me,” his tone sent a ripple down my back. “Even if you weren’t alone, there’d be nothing anyone could do.”

Fear prowled through me, and I think he could sense that. I anchored myself to the ground, prepared to bolt at any second and try to put as much distance as I could. Would it be useless? Probably. Would I go down with a fight? Absolutely. I’d kick and scream and-

“It’s so adorable to watch you think you have a chance,” he tilted his head, bending down over me. I took in those wings, that sharp jaw and even sharper eyes. His skin was flushed with a fine layer of sweat, and he smelled like an inferno.

My core tightened. My fingers and toes were numb with dread.

“Such a shame. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t ever be left alone. Someone could just come right up to you and take you as their own.” “I told you I’m not alone,” I bit out.

He chuckled. Void of any real amusement and full of predatory hunger. “It’s okay, dove. I only want to take you for a little while, show you all the things that delicate body does to me. Only when I am satisfied will I give you back.”

A sob shuddered through me as he gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. “P-Please don’t- please don’t hurt me-”

“Oh, I will. But it will feel so good for you. You’re going to cry. And beg. And scream. All for me. You’ll realize that no other male will be able to make you feel the things I can make you.” His voice was of the smoothest silk, but the words were so wrong. So repulsing. It certainly didn’t help when he looked so striking.

I swallowed, nothing going down. I shook with nothing but fear when his hand traveled down my chin, to my neck. He gripped, not cutting off air, but firm enough I knew I was fucked. I couldn’t move, I was paralyzed by his eyes.

This was it. This was going to happen.

I have to try and run. I have to try. I looked up and down his body, at his midsection crouched over my legs. I kicked up as hard as I could, sending him to the ground with a groan. I scrambled, as fast as I could, to my suddenly limp feet and ran. I sprinted into the woods, not daring to look back to see if he was following. I knew he was following.

My chest burned with the need for oxygen. I zig-zaged through the trees, stepping on branches and sharp stones. When I screamed, nothing came out. My voice was dead in my throat and I couldn’t scream. It felt like I was in a nightmare. Where all laws of physics are wiped away for the sake of terror.

How far I ran I didn’t know, but I couldn’t see my meadow from wherever I was. Who knew what was in these woods? I slowed my pace a little to catch my breath. I walked– more like jogging– through the thick brush. Thorns and bugs tore up my arms and legs.

Great. Now the sun was going down. Normally a Velaris sunset would put a beaming smile on my face. Right now? It only filled me with worry.

The soles of my feet were cut and filled with dirt. My trembling had slowed, but every new snap of a twig had it tumbling back into me. I kept my gaze on the vegetation in front of me, careful not to step on too many branches. The last thing I needed was to send a ripple of sound to what/whoever was after me.

I smacked face first into a tree. So hard my vision danced away from me. The back of my head hit the forest floor and I groaned, hugging it close to my chest. As I rolled onto my shoulder, I was forced onto my stomach. My voice filled me when I saw the scarred hand, belonging to the male I thought I left in the field.

“Where are you going, my prey? You think you can outrun a predator like me? Aww, my dove. You should know I love the chase, to see the fear in your eyes. Fear is one of our most primal instincts, fleeing only makes me want to hunt.”

He was heavy on top of me, hand fisting in my hair to force me up. I tried to fight against it, but I couldn’t move.

“Run again and I will have no choice but to hurt you. Though I bet you’d beg me to keep going.”

In a second, that same tendril-like shadow surrounded us. It filled every pore of my skin, every hole in my body. I felt like I was suffocating. That I was choking and couldn’t do anything to clear the obstruction. My eyes watered and I shrieked in my head.

As fast as it was there, it was gone. I sucked in breaths, coughing up the saliva that was trapped in my throat. When I opened my eyes, I had no idea where I was. The cold, smooth concrete under my palms and knees was no indicator. There was no light except a singular bulb overhead. There was a table in the middle bound with leather, and a wall lined with different weapons and tools.

“Have no fear, dove. I won’t be using all of them on you today,” the voice echoed, and I spun around, trying to find it. He was nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Panicking, I ran towards one wall, hoping to find a door. I pounded at it with everything I had, nothing giving away.

It was solid stone.

“Please let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone about this,” I pleaded, sinking into the farthest corner. “Please I won’t-”

“I know you won’t, my dove,” the male emerged from the shadows. “But I don’t care.” Tears rolled down my cheeks. “I don’t want this. Please, sir-”

“Master.” his voice boomed into the room. “Call me anything other than master and there will be consequences.”

I cowered against the wall, legs tucked up under myself. Maybe if I appease him then… “Please master I-”

“Would you look at that,” he grinned. A feral grin with a promise to bring pain. “My dove knows how to take orders. So good to know you have a desire deep down to please and cooperate.”

“I don’t want this.”

“I know you don’t, and that’s what makes me want you more, dove,” he knelt down in front of me again, tucking away some of the hairs in my face. Under any other circumstance, I’d find the movement comforting, reassuring maybe. This? This was haunting. Make-your-stomach-blanche haunting.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, daring a look in his green eyes. In another setting, I’d find them beautiful. But not this one.

“I’ve already told you. I will return you when I am satisfied,” the male flashed his white teeth. “Get up.”

He yanked me by my bicep and hurtled me out of the corner. My feet stumbled and he kept me upright, dragging me to the table. My lower back aches when I crash into it, but the table didn’t move. I gripped the edge for dear life while my eyes stayed locked on my captor.

My heart begged me to find safety. But there wasn’t a door, not a window in this chamber.

“Where am I?”

“Far from anything, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ll take care of you, my dove. I won’t be kind, but I don’t want to kill you.”

Was it comforting? Sort of. Not really. No, it wasn’t comforting in any way. This male, this winged male, was going to do whatever he wanted. I’m at his mercy. His to play with, to decide what to do with, and I had no say in the process or the outcome.

He turned to face me after looking at the wall of tools and things. “Oh dove, why didn’t you say you were needy?”

I blinked at him, shifting on my feet. “I’m not needy. I just want to be let go.”

“You think I can’t smell the sweet scent between those legs of yours?” His gaze darkened, traveling up and down my trembling body. “I bet if I touched you you’d arch into me, wouldn’t you? You're all messy and ready for me, aren’t you?”

I shook my head, biting my lip. His massive hand wrapped around my throat, pulling me inches from his face. He ducked his head down, planting a kiss right below my ear. I shivered. No no no no no this was not about to happen.

His teeth nipped my ear and he exhaled, sending uninvited goosebumps across my arms and legs.

“Despite your best efforts,” he whispered, breath skimming me ignited skin. “You are arching into me. You want me to touch you, don’t you?”

I couldn’t move my head with his grip, which only tightened when I didn’t come up with a response quick enough. “No, no I don’t want you to touch me.”

“Pity,” he said. “Your body says otherwise. Even though I frighten you, have you at my will, you find it thrilling, little dove. Aww, see? You’re so hungry for my touch, my mouth, that you can’t even stay still. I know my dove needs it, she’s such a slut already and I haven’t even done anything.”

Impossible. It was impossible not to writhe at his words. Heat flooded my body in a moment. No, don’t want this. This is wrong. This is so fucking wrong.

He let out a cruel laugh, the vibrations prickling my skin. He manipulated my head where he wanted, pressing his mouth up my neck, across my collarbones. My eyes lulled shut, unintentionally letting my head fall back.

“Good girl, my dove.”

I gasped as his teeth grazed right where my vein pulsed under my skin. His hand roughly grabbed my hips and lifted me onto the table. They forced my knees apart and he stepped into the space. I whimpered.

“So vocal,” his voice was criminally sleek. “Be as loud as you want dove, no one can hear you scream.”

Again, not comforting.

“W-What are you going to do to me?” My voice bobbled, especially when he pulled off my body and stared at me.

“Ask me one more time and I will make you regret it.” There was no room for negotiation in his voice. “But, since you are such a curious little whore, I guess we can get started.”

The world whirled around me as he forced me chest down. I hung over the edge, blood rushing to my face. His hands grabbed the neckline of my dress and ripped it down the zipper. The bitterness of the dark room chilled me to my core.

A single one of his fingers felt its way down my spine. I kicked out, wiggling away from his fine touch. That finger left my back and came down hard on my ass. A scream tore through my body. The sting boomed across my skin, definitely leaving a raised welt in the shape of his hand.

“Keep still.” He ordered. I panted with the force of that smack. “I mean it dove, I don’t want to hurt you… too bad anyway.”

I tried to hold still as his hands explored my body. They were firm which helped. I could predict the patterns of his hands and the tension slowly slipped from my body. I relaxed a shoulder down to the table, then let my legs dangle.

“See? You’re already growing accustomed to my touch. Such a good little girl, my dove. I will reward you, you can keep pretending you don’t crave me as much as I crave you.”

My body was betraying me. I have this type of reaction. It was wrong. On so many levels.

But my goodness was he a stunning male.

Why I relaxed as he lifted the hem of my skirt up, I couldn’t ever say. But I was more embarrassed when he cooed at me, a soft, almost sweet noise coming from deep in his chest.

“Aww,” he sighed. “Nothing under this? All prepped and ready for me, dove? I should have known how much of a whore you’d be for more. So kind of you to make it so easy for me to use you. To have my unwavering way.”

“Master I- please don’t do this to me-”

“And would you look at that?” He palmed my ass apart. “You are a soaking wet mess. I am two for two, I wonder what else I am right about. I think you’ll like it when I touch you, so much you’ll come apart just after a few strokes. I think I can get you to cum on my cock as many times as I want, until you’re an incoherent, slobbering mess. What do you think, dove? If you agree I’ll make you feel sooo good.”

I was quivering. Fuck, he had been right. And I felt so ashamed about it. Nothing about this should be arousing, and yet, he was completely right. Cauldron boil me for this.

I nodded. Despite all the bells and whistles telling me to fight and keep going. I nodded.

“I knew you’d come around,” I could hear the sinister smile in his voice. “Get up, dove.”

Slowly, I lowered my feet to the ground and turned to face him. He reached around me and pressed a switch on the table. It began to move, angling itself on a slant. A panel came out at the bottom and the male flipped it up. “Step.”

Uh oh.

With a wary look at him, I stepped onto the small metal platform barely big enough to place my feet on. I face him, the dress barely clinging to my body. He grabbed one of my wrists and forced it over my head. A cuff of leather latched around it.

When I tried to yank it away, his free hand wound around my throat, cutting off all oxygen. I gargled, going slack in his grip.

“I told you if you tried to get away, I’d have to hurt you,” he shook his head. “My prey hasn’t learned her lesson.”

My eyes widened as he grabbed something off the wall behind me. The second he rounded to where I could see him, my heart blazed in my chest. There was a small sword in his hand and he spined it between his fingers aimlessly.

With two light-blurring moves of his arm, he cut off the sleeves to my dress and it pooled around my feet. I don’t know when I closed my eyes, but then they were open, staring down at my now naked body. “Defy my order again and I’ll cut you, do you understand?” I nodded vigorously.

I still had one hand free, and I used it to try and cover myself. The male watched me twist and turn under his stare.

“Looks like I still have something to take care of,” he looked at the hand that was shielding the space between my thighs. Within a minute, he had gained control of my hand and I was tied up. Completely naked and exposed to him. “Much better.”

I didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know what to say. So I stayed quiet. I just watched his every move.

“What to do with you first,” he tapped his chin. “I should punish you for trying to get away from me again. But I think I just want to play with you a little bit more.”

He pressed another button, and the table tilted back so it wasn’t such a steep incline. My arms were already feeling strained as I tugged at the cuffs around my wrists. Most of my weight fell on my back, but gods my arms ached already.

This was it. Nothing I can do to stop this. Fear and dread and every other emotion bubbled up and out, sobs wracking through my chest.

“Don’t be afraid my dove,” his voice was anything but soothing as he dragged his fingers down my cheek. “I will make you feel so many good things. See? I only want to ruin you for anyone other than me. That’s it, my prey.”

His hand pinned my leg to the table, basically covering the entire thigh with his hand. He was so big. From his hands to his wings, even his shoulders were massive and otherworldly. A finger brushed up the crease of my hip, dipping into the mess on my skin. I jolted when he slid that finger between the tops of my thighs.

It was so light, so gentle in comparison to how he’s been. With a shaky breath, my eyes fluttered shut as I let him touch me.

“So soft, dove,” he praised. “Let's see how you taste. I hope it’s as sweet as those flowers of yours smell.” He let his tongue curl out and around the pad of his middle finger, eyes locked on mine. With a hum of approval, he grinned. “My dear dove, you taste so wonderful. I am going to undo you so many times so I can taste you over and over again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Yeah I know you do. Don’t worry, I will make you, whether you want to or not.”

Chills spread down my back and I arched off the table when he stuck two fingers inside me. It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel great. Not until his thumb brushed over my clit, making me jump viscously.

“Tell me what you want, dove.”

I had to calm the inferno in my mind before I could speak. “Just- please…”

“Please what? Use those words of yours, slut. Or are you already too fucked out to form sentences?” That wicked mouth of his didn’t make it any easier.

“I want… more,” it came out a whisper. So tentative and meek I wasn’t sure if I had said it out loud.

“You want more, my prey?” I nodded. He let out a soul crippling laugh. “Just remember, you asked for this.”

His fingers picked up, and his mouth latched onto my breast. Teeth bit into the skin, and I knew it was the first mark of many to come. There was nothing to do except take what he was giving me. And right now, it didn’t feel bad. Pleasure ripped through with another brush of his thumb and my core tightened.

Sweat pricked my skin, my hair itching the back of my neck. I was so hyper aware of everything going on with my body it was impossible to focus on anything else other than that it started to feel good. Fuck. I was giving in. I need to resist. This was- this was wrong. And yet I was… I was enjoying it? He had to have drugged me or- or cast some sort of spell to make me react to his touch. I couldn’t find any of this desirable, could I?

“Would you like to cum, dove?” He stilled his hands, but my hips kept moving. “Are you that desperate? That you’re fucking yourself on my fingers?”

I stopped immediately. My mouth gaped open and closed for a response, but nothing came.

Two heartbeats later he shoved his fingers in so deep I pulled on the chains so hard I began to lift myself away from his touch. He pinned my thigh back to the table and circled my clit, drawing noises from me I so desperately wanted to keep inside.

There wasn’t anything I could do to convince him that I was repulsed by this. Because he and I both knew that I was into it. Problematically into all of this. I didn’t want to admit it to myself. I couldn’t let that little bit of control I needed to ground me. What control did I actually have? I had no power. Nothing to hold over him.

I was tied. To a table. In a room without a door. Cauldron knows where I am. Of course I had no power here.

But it… it filled me with fear. This primal fear, just like he said. And I couldn’t stop him from doing whatever he wanted. And that was… that was…

Pleasure ripped through me, forcing me to arch off the table and scream out. I hadn’t given my body permission to lean into this. Fuck fuck fuck. It felt so good, his fingers pushing me further down that fine line between reality and euphoria.

“My dove, that was quick,” his eyes were full of hunger. And so were mine. “I knew you would come around. I knew a slut like you would give into those animalistic behaviors at some point. Now the rest of this will be seamless. All you have to do is stay there and let me fuck you until you go dumb with it.”

My legs were shaking, my pussy clenching on nothing as he ripped them from my body. I might have moaned. Just maybe.

The male hit the button again and my legs flew down to help support my weight. I had to press on my toes to take some of the pressure off my wrists; pins and needles shot down my fingers and arms from the lack of blood.

“What do you say, dove? Should I make you cum again? Yeah, I think I’m going to.”

He knelt to the floor and grabbed the back of my calf. I watched, still heaving from my first orgasm. He let it fall over his shoulder, doing the same with the other. Was he going to- oooh gods….

The first pass of his tongue sent my head rolling back, eyes with it. I bucked my hips into his face, meeting his carnal stare. He grinned, chin glistening with my mess. He looked… fuck he looked good. All those sharp, cunning features between my legs. My mind melted and all my morals went with it.

Here I was: chained to a table with a sadistic, obsessive male, and I was loving the sight of him between my legs. What the fuck is wrong with me? I didn’t have time to answer my own question as content filled me. He lapped over every inch of my entrance and didn’t let up.

“Gods… fuck- forgive me,” I whimpered out, feeling this overwhelming sensation begin to break apart my seams. I gasped, then screamed. His teeth latched onto the inside of my thigh. He bit me. Hard. Forceful enough to bring tears up and forceful enough to make me bleed.

“Now if any other male tries to take you, they’ll see my bite and know that if they don’t get out they’re going to be in a world of pain,” he muttered, brushing away the drops of blood with his hand. He resumed the flicks of his tongue, not letting up when I began to see stars.

“Ple-Please,” I shout, arching off the inclined surface and clamping my legs around his head. In a second, I was pinned to the table, his nails digging into the skin of my thighs. A brutal hand came down right over the bite, and I screamed. Fuck that hurt. “Ah- stop.”

“Why? Does it hurt, my prey? It’s fucking supposed to. Now shut the fuck up and take it. Stop acting like you don’t love this.”

I cried out, his tongue darting up and down my core. My stomach tightened in that familiar way, but I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of another release. I had given him what he wanted, wasn’t that enough?

“Stop holding back.” Another claw of his nails at the backs of my thighs. “Cum now or I will make the next one far less enjoyable.”

I obeyed. I didn’t have a choice. My body just did it. I yelped, straining against the bindings so hard I knew they’d cut my wrists. With my hips pinned under his powerful hold, I twitched and writhed and shook with the force of my second orgasm. I couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t stop whining and begging him to stop licking me.

The male didn’t let up and tears fell out of my lashes. I sobbed. Sobbed. It was too much, too much pressure and pleasure it hurt. It stung. It burned and added to the ever growing pins and needles in my arms. They were numb, and couldn’t keep me up anymore.

My body flops fully against the table as he keeps a firm grip on me.

“M-Master please stop-” I begged, “please I need a break.”

Alas, he pulled his head away from my throbbing pussy. The sight of him was… Cauldron spare me. His hair was a tangled mess, and his eyes were full of his pupils. Black, affectionless pits in his face. He looked exactly as he said he was, a predator. A true, hungry, wild predator.

And I had made him that way.

“I’m far from done, my dove,” he rose to his full height, tilting the table all the way back. Relief flooded my arms. “I think you’re ready for something else.”

He came around to my head and I watched him, upside down, the light hurting my eyes. He shed the belt around his waist and let it fall to the floor with a loud ‘clang’. His scarred hand put the button through its slit and I could see the outline of him through his pants.

Holy Mother send me a blessing.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be able to fit it.” “No,” I shook my head. “No that will not fit in my-”

“Well, it’s going to. Open wide, pretty dove. Fuck… look at you. All spread out for me, pink and flush. You look so mouthwatering. So perfect for me to ruin and bruise.”

With another click of a button, the cuffs above my head began to move down. The blood rushed back and I sighed out. They were now at my sides. When I dared a look back up, the male had dropped his pants. Mother fucking- that is not going to-

“Open,” He demanded, palming my jaw. I was in too much shock at the sheer size to really hear it. A slap struck me in the face, and I jolted to the side. “Now. Make me ask again and see what I will do with this.”

My jaw unhinged and he slipped in. I choked, bending my legs to try and gain some leverage. Cool streaks slithered up my feet and around my ankles. they yanked, the force of it pulling me off his cock, and I looked down at the tendrils of shadow curled around my skin.

“What the fuck-” I shouted until I couldn’t breathe anymore. The male had come around the front of my head and slammed a hand against my throat. The pressure built up in my face, and I coughed, choking on what little air I had left. His eyes were narrow, a snarl on his lips.

After a few moments, the stars were back, and the room dimmed. Heart pounding. I was right there, so close to losing consciousness when air rushed back into my lungs. I thought I was going to throw up with how hard I was breathing.

He grabbed my hair and forced me down, shoving his cock back into my throat. All the way. I gagged. I was fully stretched out on the table as he rocked his hips into me. He was tall enough that the table wasn’t a hindrance.

“I told you dove, bad things happen when you disobey me.”

He almost put me unconscious. My head was foggy, and my vision was still laced with stars. I had no other choice but to take what he was doing. Just like he said I would.

When I closed my eyes, I let my throat relax. He praised me, sinking in further and further. Every other thrust I got a breath. He pulled out once and let the tip of his cock trace around my lips so I could catch a breath. Instead of waiting for him to decide when I was done, I stuck my tongue out in acceptance.

“My prey is learning so quickly,” he stroked a massive hair down my throat, pressing in. I could feel it prod against the surface of my skin, right where his hand was. “I bet you can feel that, huh? How far down I am?” A quick clench of his digits sent fear rolling back through my body. I couldn’t breathe again- “Shh, I won’t let you suffocate on my cock. There are far too many things we still have left to do. Just relax- that’s it. Look at you! Such a pretty whore, already wrung out on my cock. And I haven’t even been inside you.”

I swallowed around him when he removed his hand. That earned me a deep, rumbling sound from his chest. In the past couple minutes, his voice had dimmed to nothing but a growl. Like he was turning into an animal.

It was so thrilling.

With every snap of his hips, my whole body rocked with it. Wetness pooled onto the table and I could feel it smear against my skin. He reached down and pulled at my nipple, sending shocks all through my body. “Yeah you can take more. I want you a whimpering mess, you still have a ways to go, don’t you dove?” I nodded my head as best I could. “That’s what I thought.”

His hips snapped into my face, cock stabbing my throat. It was so painful, and my lungs burned for a full breath again. Nothing about the way he was forcing it in told me he was going to let me have one. It could’ve been minutes or hours that he fucked my throat. I wouldn’t have the slightest chance of talking in the morning. And part of me didn’t mind that thought. Or the thought of seeing his marks across my skin.

I moaned around him. I watched his head draw back, and heard what that had done to him. “Do that again, don’t stop.”

An endless supply of them tumbled out of me and around him. His hips stuttered for a second. Both of his hands palmed the side of my head, bringing it to meet his motions. One-two-three-four-five more later and he shoved all the way in, blocking my airway entirely. Long ropes of cum shot down my throat, forcing me to swallow. Some came back up into my nose.

When he pulled out, I nearly hurled. The taste wasn’t bad, but the need for air was. I gulped it down, eyes unable to keep themselves open. I could barely feel the cuffs loosen from my writs. I was a limp pile of used limbs. Exactly what he wanted.

I felt like I was in the clouds.

The next thing I knew was I was on the ground and the freezing concrete woke me up. My hands and knees stung and shook. I felt weightless and like I was a ton at the same time. I couldn’t keep myself up, arms giving out as I went face first into the floor.

All I could hear behind me was the male rugged breathing. Two agonizing slaps were planted on my ass. A garbled scream tore through the air as he did it again. And again. It eventually became so painful I couldn’t feel it. My chest was flat against the ground.

“I am gonna fuck you,” he told me. “And I am going to hurt you so fucking good. You’re gonna scream and cry until you can’t. I’m gonna fill you all the way up, too. So much it’ll drip out of you for the next hour.”

The tip of his cock swirled through the mess between my legs. “Please, master. Fill me up.”

“That’s it dove,” he pushed in, inch by inch. “Fuck that feels good. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me. You’re all mine. All fucking mine to use and breed and fuck whenever I want.”

If I had been anywhere other than wherever I was, people would surely be breaking down my door to rescue me. But I would shew them away and beg for him to continue. He was right. Fuck he felt good inside me. I don’t know how he fits. But then he kept going. And he kept pushing.

“Look at you, taking my cock like it’s nothing. You look so fucking pretty, my little dove. Fuck yourself on it. Fuck me like the useless, hopeless little creature you are. Maybe if you do a good job, your predator will let you go so he can hunt you again.”

My body was his at that moment. It wasn’t my own to begin with. He had full command over me. And I was happy to let him. I rocked back on my knees, my aching nipples brushing against the floor every time I did.

The noises were obscene; from our breathless pleas to his cock slipping in and out of my thoroughly soaked pussy… it was the most sinful symphony I had ever heard.

With earnest I rocked into him until he took over. One hand fisted in my hair and he yanked me up. I couldn’t be bothered to use my arms to help, I let him do all the work. His other hand brushed to where we were connected and over my clit.

I had already come twice, I didn’t know if I could a third. But he was going to make me, whether I wanted to or not. Just. like. He. Said.

The sound of our bodies echoed off the walls around us. He cursed deep in his chest while I had the breath fucked out of me. I had to catch myself when he threw my head down so I wouldn’t smack my nose off the stone. He hauled my ass into the pocket of his hips and hovered over me, forcing his body to align with mine.

His now bare chest was flat against my back, hard muscle contracting as he angled his pelvis into mine over and over. It was a brutal, erotic pace. His promise rang in my head: all fucking mine to use and breed and fuck whenever I want.

“Yeah take it you fucking whore. Take what your master is giving you,” his voice was distant in my ears. His nails scraped groves in the skin of my back, and I let go. I screamed. the tears came and didn't stop. All those emotions– fear, dread, desire– making their way to the surface and erupting as I came again. For a third time. “Fuck, my dove. Again? Gods you are such a slut for my cock. You love this. Being used by me. You’re fucking nothing without my cock to fuck. You were born for me to fuck this tight cunt of yours. To breed.”

I don’t know if my orgasm ever stopped or if they just kept rolling over into the next.

“My pretty cunt to use. Mine. All fucking mine, isn’t it? Say it dove, who does this body belong to?”

“Y-You, master,” I strangled out through cries and breaths. “It’s all yours, my master.”

His hands crashed down on my shoulders and pinned me to the floor so I wouldn’t move. I wouldn’t move even if I could. And I don’t. I want to stay right here, head far away from all my daily responsibilities as he pounds into me.

My master’s hips were ruthless. Every pump of his body into mine set my skin on fire. I had never felt pleasure, or pain, quite like this before. I’d never be the same again. He forced me to change to him. And I couldn’t ever change back. There was nothing I could do to stop him from breeding me. And I didn’t want to stop him.

“F-Fuck, my dove. I’m gonna breed you. Fuck it so deep inside you’ll never have a chance. Ready?”

“Yes yes yes yes yes,” I was incoherent. “Please, master. Fuck me so goooood.”

The noise that came out of him should have terrified me. But it didn’t. He let out a snarl so deep it rattled my bones, rattled the table and the floor with the force of it. I could feel his release inside me, but his hips never slowed. The nails on his fingers caught my skin and ripped it. I’m sure it’ll look like I was attacked by a wild animal in the morning. In a way I was.

He was feral, snarling and snapping behind me. It was either sweat or saliva that dripped onto my back.

It went on for a little longer, and then he forced his cock farther than it had pierced a new part of me that I hadn’t ever felt before. I couldn’t tell up from down, right from wrong in the next several minutes as he fucked into me, pushing and pushing and pushing as much of himself as he could into me. I went completely limp and he landed on top of me.

His warm body was shaking above mine, sweat soaking into my skin.

Neither of us spoke, neither of us moved.

When he stirred, he pulled out, making me feel impossibly empty while he rolled me on my back. Then it was back in, and I sighed contently.

“Would you look at that,” his voice cracked slightly. “My pretty dove has entered a true in between state. You can’t decide what to feel, can you?” The male's hand gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. I could barrel keep my eyes open anymore, and he let out the cruelest sound I’ve ever heard. “Such a worthless prey. You can’t even speak you're so enthralled with me. What a sight to see.” It didn’t even occur to me that we had never kissed until this instant. His lips were warm and hurried as they claimed mine. I melted into it, especially when he curled his tongue over mine. He moved his hips steadily as he did, drawing in and out a few times before he stayed put.

I was so many things– ruined above all of them. I didn’t know if I would walk again, if I’d be able to see a dahlia in the garden and not be instantly transported back to these memories.

Here I was, spent and limp, still at his mercy. And despite the moral side of me, begging me to be disgusted and horrified… I wasn’t. And I wasn’t guilty about it either. I should be, absolutely should be mortified by this whole thing. Yet I wanted- no, I needed it to keep going. To be taken at any point and whisked away from life to be played with. To be hunted.

It would be a secret I’d take to the grave. Not anything I’d tell anyone. I would keep this between me and the fucking devil. No one else could know how much I craved to be stripped of my rights and dignity.

I was moved, despite my protests, and hauled over a shoulder. That same suffocating shadow filled me once more and then the stars said hello. With what little energy I had left, I lifted my head off his shoulder and peered around. My meadow greeted me. The bugs and all there too.

The male slid me off his body and laid me down in the grass. I had also become dressed at some point, my dress put back together.

“You are free for now, my little prey. But I will find you again, and I will hunt you down no matter where you run to.”

I nodded up at him, a delightful smile on my lips. With a breeze from the crisp autumn air, he was gone, one with the shadows again. I laid there for a moment, not really having a ton of memories of what just happened. All I knew was that I had this ache in my body that filled me with satisfaction.

____

The stars twinkled above me as I pushed to a sitting position, waiting for a while for my mate to come get me. With a mighty beat of his wings, he landed in front of me, that feral look in his eyes gone since we left that underground room.

“Let’s get you home, my love,” he smiled sweetly, sweat still curling the ends of his hair. I reached my hands up and he gently pulled me to my feet. “I love you so much, Yn. So so much. It was perfect.”

“I know,” I smiled up at him. “I was pretty good.”

“Are you hurting?” I gave him a look that said ‘yes, you idiot, of course I’m hurting’. “Okay yeah stupid question. Let’s go clean you up and then we can soak in the tub and go to bed. I’m sorry if I-” “Shh,” I curled right into his chest when he lifted me up, kissing the side of his neck. “I didn’t safeword, did I?” “Well, no but that doesn’t mean-”

“Yes it does. I may have been under, I may have been afraid, but I was aware. It was everything I could’ve imagined.”

“You’re sure?” he asked again.

I nodded, slurring my words with sleep. “ ‘mm sure. Can we go home now?” “Of course. You are everything I could ever ask for. Thank you for doing that with me.”

“You’re very welcome,” I chuckled.

~~~~~~

[This is just a little bit of background building and the initial conversation between the reader and Azriel about the roleplay. I didn't add it in the beginning because I thought it might break the illusion. Feel free to read or not!]

Azriel had parts of him he was ashamed of. Things he’s done in the past that he is most certainly not proud of, but have become a vital part to who is and why he is that way. There’s nothing that can change those parts of him, not even his mate.

When the two of you first met, it was a thing of the universe. Completely unintentional. You had been delivering a bouquet of flowers from your shop in Velaris; they were the finest ghost orchids and water lilies grown in the Court. A simple pen error on your note card sent you to two houses over from the one that was supposed to receive them.

When you knocked on the door, your heart began to strike faster in your chest. It was an odd feeling to say the least. The door opened and a male answered the door. He had black hair and had the most captivating eyes you’ve ever seen. His voice was like silk when it hit your ears.

“Can I help you?” He asked, folding his arms across his sculpted chest. He was dressed down; a simple shirt and combat pants and boots.

It took a moment for you to conjure up a response. “I have a delivery. For… Sherion?”

“They live two houses to the left.”

“Oh,” you sighed out, looking back at your card. Surely you had written down the right address, or maybe they accidentally gave you the wrong house number? The row of houses stretched far around the bend of the street, it wasn’t the most impossible thing. “Well, sorry to bother you. Thank you for your help, sir.”

“Azriel,” he introduced, stretching out his hand.

“Yn,” you replied, offering the male a smile before you stepped down onto the sidewalk. “Enjoy your day!”

Azriel had no idea why he answered the door. Him and his High Lord were in the middle of a very important Court discussion and before the words were even out of Rhysand’s mouth, he was up and moving to answer it.��

And there you were. Standing right in front of him. This small, utterly defenseless faerie, compared to him. You looked so wonderful. That was the only word he could think of: wonderful. You looked enjoyable to be around and comforting. There was a calm to your aura that instantly soothed the roar of the shadows in his ears.

You looked like everything he wasn’t. You were smooth and soft and unburdened by the weight of your past. Azriel was exactly that. Burdened. Solid. A bastard born Illyrian who had grown up in the cruelest way. Nothing about him was loving. Sure he loved and protected his brothers and the rest of his Court, but he hasn’t ever had one soul all to himself. To love and cherish and spoil with the part of him he didn’t let anyone see. But if he could ask you to give him a chance, he wouldn’t ever take it for granted.

How he managed to keep his cool, he’ll never know, but as soon as the door shut, he leaned against it, fingertips filled with static as he closed his eyes. He knew that feeling. The one he had with Mor all those years ago, with Elain. But now it was crystal clear. The other ones had been clouded by hundreds of years of rejection. Not this.

It had taken him a few days to find you, which wasn’t hard. He told Cassian first, who more or less shouted it across the room for Rhysand to hear. The both of them encouraged him to speak with you, to get a better idea if there was any type of bond at all on your end.

Azriel couldn’t tell when he met you, he brain was too busy being turned to mush by your beauty and grace.

But, eventually, he wandered into your shop at the end of the business sector of Velaris. It was cute, and had your scent all over it mixed in with the calming presence of fresh flowers and other plants.

The door opened with a chime and he stepped in. The first thing that happened when he shut the door was he knocked over a pot behind it. It shattered on the floor, and he let out a curse.

“Shit,” Azriel whirled around, wings clattering into some windchimes hanging in the window. They fell, thankfully they didn’t break, but they did make a jarring noise. “Cauldron boil me.”

“What is going on?” Your voice rang over the chaos at the front of the store, and when you appeared, your eyes settled on Azriel, and he looked around at the mess he made.

“I am so sorry, Yn. I didn’t see the pot behind the door and then these things,” Azriel sneered at the windchimes, “came down with it all. It’s a disaster, please, let me help clean it up.”

He watched you look from the pot, to the chimes, to the dirt on his wings. You laughed, so hard you clutched your stomach as you looked at the wary Illyrian.

“It’s okay, sir. It’s not a big deal. I have about a thousand pots in the back that are just laying around.”

“Then let me pay for it, and any of the chimes that I broke,” he tried to smooth his face into anything other than bitter self-resentment, but he probably did a poor job.

“Nonsense, it was an accident. And I guess I could make my shop a little more accessible to those with wings. It’s not every day that we have Illyrians here.”

The fact that you were willing to rearrange things in your store to accommodate him made his heart swell. Surely there was a blush to his tan skin when he rubbed the back of his neck.

Azriel couldn’t help but notice the clay smothering your hands, bits and pieces stuck on your face and in your hair. You wore working overalls and a long sleeve striped shirt. The ends of your pants were cuffed and your boots were laced all the way up.

He thought you looked adorable. Utterly adorable and he just wanted to cherish you.

You had similar thoughts about Azriel. That he was devastatingly handsome and outrageously gorgeous. Tall, dark hair, and lighter colored eyes. They were a perfectly crafted shade of hazel. The Mother took her time with this one.

You cleared your throat, trying not to blush at your obvious staring. “Is there something I can help you find?”

It took him a second to shake his thoughts together, “Yes, I did come here to buy flowers. Not to destroy your property.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. “What are you looking for?”

“In all honesty I am not really sure. I’m trying to make a gesture, of sorts.”

“I see,” you nodded, looking over your shoulder. “Roses are always romantic, but a little over done in my opinion. There’s always succulents too, everybody always forgets about those guys. They make lovely gifts, are low maintenance, and more difficult to kill.”

“Interesting,” Azriel nodded along. “What about these?”

“These are wild bouquets. They are grown in the Hills, just field flowers but they look stunning all put together. A lot of them are imports from other Courts, brought here long before Prythian was Prythian. They grow freely in the plains and farmland.”

“Do they all have their own names or are they all just classified as wildflowers?” Azriel couldn’t have given a less of a fuck about what they were classified as, he just enjoyed hearing you talk about something you were obviously passionate about.

You looked at him like a normal person, not at the scars on his hands or the wings over his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what to think of it all. You didn’t fear him, which was odd enough, and you didn’t avert your eyes. It was like you didn’t know who he was, which was going to be hard to believe. But if, by some miracle, you didn’t, he would be grateful. So so grateful.

“Yeah, these are lavender, baby breath, candy fruit, blue flax… whatever is blooming is picked and wrapped up. These are just seasonal, there aren’t too many flowers that bloom wildly in Velaris outside of spring and summer, and even then it’s difficult to grow without a greenhouse.”

“I see, I see,” the Illyrian said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll grab one of those then. And one of those succulents you were talking about.”

With a clap of your hands, you snatched up a fuller set of wildflowers and set them on the counter by the register. On a shelf beside a display of pots and vases, you looked around before finding a great candidate. It was in a lovely array of echeveria in a triangular prism.

“Will that be all?” You asked, typing in the total and showing him.

“Yes,” he nodded once, handing you a palm-full of coins. “Please keep the change.”

“But- I don’t understand, this is twice the amount of the total cost?”

“I broke one of your lovely pots, it’s the least I can do.”

“You know I could rehydrate that, throw it again and make the exact same one in less than an hour, right?”

Azriel blinked. “Then consider it a shop donation.”

You looked from the change in your hand, to the man in front of you, back to the change. “I won’t be able to get you to take this back, will I?”

“No,” Azriel smirked, taking the flowers and succulent off the counter. “Thank you for your kindness, Yn.”

“Yours as well, Azriel.”

______

When it came time to close down the shop, you hauled in the signs outside advertising the sale for the day. You wiped the counters and swept the floors, fixing a few things on the chimes that got knocked over earlier. As you locked up, there was a rush of air behind you, making you jump.

“Mother above!” you shouted, clutching your chest when Azriel stood behind you. “What are you doing here?”

Azriel didn’t say anything as he tucked in his wings, extending the bouquet he bought just hours ago to you.

“Oh, did you need to exchange them? I can run back inside and get you a new one if-”

“They’re for you, Yn,” he said. “I was hoping to catch you as you were leaving to ask if you’d like to come have dinner with me?”

With a sparkle in his eye, a smirk on his lips, it was pretty hard to say no. Not that you wanted to say no anyway. It was pretty obvious that both of you were attracted to each other, in more ways than one. You were worried that it had been one sided.

And that was how it all started. One silly little typo of an address led you to the most devoted, selfless, and understanding male you could’ve asked for. Azriel could do it all. It took a while to get to that place, but it happened. It took a while to gain his full trust, but once you did, there wasn’t an area of his life you didn’t know about and admire.

He was so brave. So tenacious and powerful. Not to mention all of the other lovely physical aspects you learned about. Every aspect of your relationship was stunning. So rich and enjoyable. Every day was truly a new adventure with Azriel and the rest of his family; not to mention how awesome everyone else had been. Well, mostly everyone. Nesta and Amren were a little hard to crack, but Cassian, Feyra, and Rhysand quickly became some of the most important people in your life.

As time went on, more and more things were revealed between the two of you. The mating bond clicked and it was like taking a first breath all over again. It was over stimulating, in an unexplainably pleasant way.

Being able to feel, to hear everything the other was thinking was an experience you wouldn’t ever grow tired of having.

Azriel was tender, as tender as he knew how to be with you. He did a lot of learning from you on how you wanted to be loved, and vice versa. Azriel was complicated, but that didn’t make him unlovable by any means. It only made you love him more, just so he knew that he could be.

He wasn’t pushy about getting you into his bed, but you certainly didn’t mind taking that leap at one of the first hints. If his beauty was an indicator of just how thorough he was, boy were you in for a rude awakening.

He was flawless between your legs. So calculated and willing to give. But you quickly learned there were other sides to him you wanted to explore.

It started slowly, calling him ‘sir’ here and there to get a rise out of him. Which only leads to him asking you to try new things with him. You had always been a ‘why not try everything once’ kind of person. Extending beyond the bedroom. Azriel never pressured you to do something you didn’t want to, and there was almost nothing that he suggested that you rejected.

From a little bit of bondage to taking you in other areas of the House, it started slow, and then progressively got more and more intense. More real domination and exploration. The list of things that turned you on was growing rapidly thanks to him.

One day, while the two of you were sitting in your home, it was clear there was something on his mind.

____

READER POV

I watched as Azriel adjusted himself in his chair for the fifth time in ten minutes. He was squirming and outright fidgeting.

“Okay, what is going on with you? I’ve never seen you like this before.” I paused my flower arrangement and sat down in front of him.

Azriel wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“Love, what is it?”

He let out a sigh, deep and heavy and full of something he clearly didn’t want to speak about. “I was just thinking… It's nothing important. I don’t want to ask it of you anyway.”

“Why not?” I furrowed my brows. “You know there isn’t anything you could say to me that would make me cower.”

“That’s exactly what I want.” Your breath caught in your throat. Azriel shook his head, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve had this- this fantasy of you for a long time and it is something so dark and outright dangerous that I’ve been afraid to ask.”

A chill spread down my spine when he looked at me. Those eyes meant trouble; whenever we roleplayed, he got this look, this look, when I disobeyed him. It could’ve crumbled anyone to their knees. But me? It lonely lit me on fire.

“Azriel, tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You know I will not judge you,” I stressed, swinging a leg over his lap, laying my hands over his shoulders. “I promise.”

His hands found my thighs, which he rubbed to soothe himself. He took in a deep breath before he spoke.

“Do you remember when we went to Summer? After the wedding?”

That was totally not what I was preparing for. “Yes? Of course I do.”

“Well, when Tarquin let us into those fields, and you were just picking flowers… I couldn’t help but think about how delicate you looked. You looked so peaceful and alone and I couldn’t stop thinking about how vulnerable you were. How easy you would be to overpower with your back turned. You’d be defenseless and- gods I sound ridiculous.”

“No, no you don’t. Keep going.” “Yn it doesn’t get better,” Azriel clenched his jaw. “I shouldn’t have these thoughts and I know it’s wrong-” “There is nothing wrong with having a fantasy and expressing it to me.”

His eyes were wide, lips parted. Azriel’s grip tightened on your hips. “I wanted to do nothing but force you to take me. To just- completely control you and have my way with you. You looked so innocent and perfect in the sundress and I wanted to ruin it. Ruin you. All over again. But with this animalistic part of me that I’ve never met. And then I just kept thinking about chasing you. Hunting you down and capturing you and tying you up. Fucking you senseless and forcing you to take whatever I wanted to do to you.”

I stared at him. And stared at him again. Fucking fuck… Azriel wanted to hunt me? To do things that most certainly shouldn’t have me writhing against him. He was already hard just talking about doing it. And I definitely shouldn’t have found it so hot.

He was right, it was a little sick and fucked up, but it was such a thrilling idea.

Azriel had this presence about him. Everyone he passed on the street was afraid of him. He drank it in. He loved when people were afraid of him. Well, everyone except me. He couldn’t stand the sight of seeing me scared, or at least I thought.

Images flashed in my mind: of running through the woods, unable to escape him as he chased me. Hunger written all over his face. Azriel effortlessly overpowering me. Forcing me to his hands…

“Oh, I see,” he startled me out of my daydream. Shit, I must’ve sent those images down the bond. “My little dove enjoys that thought, doesn’t she?”

“I don’t dislike it, if that’s what you mean,” I rasped, looking at him through half-hooded eyes.

“You want me to hunt you, don’t you?”

I shouldn’t nod. I really fucking shouldn’t. But he already had me under his spell, and I could not say no. The idea was so tempting, so profound and beyond anything we’ve ever done that I couldn’t think of anything more exhilarating. It would be terrifying, he would be terrifying, but there would be this primal fear coursing through me… secretly wanting all of it.

“Say it.”

“I want it, Az.”

“Want what?” He grabbed my chin, forcing my lips apart. “You have to say it, dove.”

My chest rose and fell quickly, already feeling that power of his in my blood. Through the bond. “I want you to hunt me. To capture me.”

Azriel's eyes physically changed colors in that moment. They went dark. Very dark. He bared his teeth, nostrils flaring as he moved his hand to my throat. “I am going to vanish and you are not going to be able to see me coming. I am going to hunt you like the pretty little dove that you are and there isn’t anything you can do to stop it. You can run, you can pray to whatever you believe in, but no one will be around to save you when I come for you.”

I nodded, eyes fixed on his lips. “How- how should I prepare?” Azriel let out a dark laugh, pulling me right to his face. “Oh, my pretty little dove, you won’t be able to. It’ll be so unpredictable that you won’t know what's happening. I’ll even make the bond go dark. There will be nothing loving about what I am going to do to you.”

_______

My hand had already found its way between my thighs on the first night. Thoughts wild with what's to come. Of course I know it’s just Azriel, but I know that it’s not going to feel like Azriel. To look or sound like him. He was going to hunt. Me. And I was going to let him.

#acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar smut #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel smut #acotar #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #smut

510 notes · View notes

chronically-ghosted · 5 months

Text

stay gold, baby boy

rating: 18+ (expliiiiicit)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: almost 6K

summary: six months into your friends-with-benefits situation, you institute a new game. A gold star on the board every time Dieter is a good boy. Today, he gets bingo . . . for wearing real pants.

warnings: friends with benefits (with more feelings), oral (m receiving), dom/sub dynamics (guess who subs today!), talks of edging, hair pulling, creampie, piv sex, praise kink, my mother raised me to have better taste in men but fuck it

a/n: remember when i posted this picture? And then this one? Remember how you could hear me yelling from space? Well, @sp00kymulderr has added fuel to the fire – Dieter and stickers. I can’t explain myself except that I was horny and I wanted to take his pants off with my teeth. So I did.

✨gif credit goes to the ever incredible, talented, and enabler of my dieter fantasies @perotovar! she saw me floundering with the header and immediately was like 'hold please i can make his baby cow eyes even better'✨

🤍Masterlist

With your foot on the low table, your ass firmly planted on the middle poofy cushion of the dumpster bin couch at the back of the trailer, thumbnail nibbled between your teeth, you have to admit it’s starting to get a little embarrassing. It’s honestly such a bad look.

Not that he would ever shame you for it. In fact, he’d probably like it.

And it’s not like you waited for him here all day. You had things to do as one of the co-screenwriters on this film. You had things to do and people to see and stuff to organize – all of which had nothing to do with Dieter fucking Bravo.

Okay, so a lot of it actually had to do with him. Lots of scene rewrites, lots of notes from the studio, lots of instances where the two of you had to put your heads together and come up with a solution that made the studio happy and didn’t make you want to claw your eyes out artistically speaking.

Which had led to this.

And the past six months of whatever this is. Working together led to seeing each other (outside of work), to eating with each other, to fucking each other – with the line firmly drawn there.

Whatever you may say about Dieter, the man could compartmentalize in a way that would make Marie Kondo weep with joy. By the way he treated you on set, no one in their right mind would ever have guessed he knew what you looked like naked. Or that he knew your left nostril twitched just before you came.

The same could be said for you too. Out of boredom one morning in the grocery store, you bought a trashy magazine with his face emblazoned across the top – Dieter Bravo and His Lonely Hearts Club. You weren’t one for the gossip rags, but flipping through it, not a single one of his “club members” mentioned his raging praise kink. You bought the damn thing on the spot, giving them all a consolation prize of some sort. Sorry, ladies, guess I win. Ha. Ha.

But, at the edge of the cushion, eyes occasionally flicking between the door and the failing darkness outside, you didn’t feel much like you’d won anything.

In fact, you’d lost. Big time. When all of this had been your stupid idea in the first place.

It had been your idea (and your initiative) to buy a packet of gold star stickers. Like the kind teachers use with their first graders. Actually, exactly like the ones teachers use for their first graders. You couldn’t form words when the woman at the education supply store ringing you up asked, “oh, what grade do you teach?”. You just tossed a twenty at her and booked it, your face painfully hot for a fairly innocuous purchase.

But all of that was his fault for dropping a praise kink and a teacher kink on you all at once the night after you jokingly spanked him with a ruler in front of the director, in-front of his co-star, because he wouldn’t agree to a line change, and he had to excuse himself from the room.

A month later and he forgoes touching himself for a gold star. He agrees to your line changes without argument for a gold star. He picks you up in the morning and drives you home at night for a gold star (you could drive yourself, but there’s always that last minute thing you need to talk to him about so you do it just because it’s easier, really).

He lets you come, over and over again, and keeps nothing for himself – all for a gold star.

Someone is bound to figure it out. They have to. Six months in and you’re getting sloppy. Obvious. What the fuck would you be doing in his trailer at seven o’clock at night after a full day of shooting unless you’re fucking him?

But you, worryingly, can’t find it in you to care.

You had lost your mind, that’s what you lost. Because tonight is the night Dieter gets his final gold star. It’s his reward but you’re about to vibrate out of your skin with want.

(It didn’t matter that you hadn’t seen each other in two weeks and by the third day, an ache had settled in behind your breastbone, one that clutched your phone in your hand, and forced your eyes to the screen every minute, checking for a new text message.

He called on day five, by the way.)

Your neck snaps up when you hear voices outside of the trailer. Laughter, his.

You suddenly feel the need to flatline against the floor in case anyone might see you.

Fuck, and how are you supposed to explain yourself if the someone he is with follows him into the trailer? Too many frightfully bad scenarios and you’re rooted to the floor, unable to make a single decision.

The metal latch clinks and his trailer door swings wide open.

“Yeah, man, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

You can hear a deep, “see ya” from the other side (maybe Daryl from craft services?) and the scrap-metal trailer squeaks, as the lock clicks shut.

Dieter scratches his cheek, surveying the trailer as if some part of him knows something is different, but his conscious mind can’t figure it out.

Until he turns. And nearly leaps out of his skin.

“Fuckin’ – what are you doing in here? Wait – I thought you left town to scope out the new location in San Diego.”

You want to answer him. You know how – open your mouth and tell him the trip’s been delayed for a few days, nothing serious, timeline bullshit – but you can’t.

It’s officially embarrassing.

It’s embarrassing how turned on by Dieter Bravo you are.

Hair in all kinds of directions, skinny cloth bracelet loose around his wrist, he had pushed up the sleeves of his henley shirt, exposing the thickly drawn triangle over his forearm and the clear one near his wrist. His hand with the rings hangs by his side and something inside of you silently whines.

But what really sets you off, what really makes this embarrassing and terrible because there’s no bluffing here, no hiding your cards and folding – nothing you can do to keep spit from flooding your mouth the longer you look –

He’s wearing pants.

Black with loose belt loops. Zipper and all. A silver button sitting between his hips. Fuck. Just like you told him to. Fuck fuckfuck.

You’re briefly aware when he says your name and you have to make a physical effort to tear your eyes away from that glinting silver eye winking up at you.

Dieter’s frowning, knowing silence isn’t really your thing.

“Are you okay? Why are you –,”

As though it had called his name, his gaze drifts from your face to the table between you and him. Where his scorecard rests with four stars in the Good column, and shockingly, none in the Bad.

His mouth parts, eyes going dark, as the realization hits him like a mack truck.

“Delays,” you say suddenly, preemptively, knowing that normal people usually have some sort of preamble before tearing each other’s clothes off. You stand up a bit straighter, tilt your jaw away from him, gaze leveling him from the end of your nose. You have got to get this thing under control. “Frank ran into some scheduling issues with the boat for the lake scene so, until further notice, the trip to San Diego has been delayed.”

He blinks slowly as if he’d been struck over the back of the heat, mouth parted. He has such fucking gorgeous, fucking perfect lips –

“So you’re here?” he asks, his voice low, disbelieving.

You scoop up the scorecard and step over the table, your shoes long since gone. It’s like his vision narrows the closer you come; he is transfixed, gaze on you as if molded at the seams, as you step up to him. You tap him on the chest once with the corner of the scorecard, excitement and nerves and that ache making you tremble despite your confident appearance.

“So I’m here.”

“On the last day of the week.” Words thick, as if all the moisture had been sucked out of his mouth.

“On the last day of the week.”

“When I,” he swallows thickly, “when I should get my reward.”

God, this kind of power trip should not be making you this wet.

You lift your gaze from his chest, taking in his beautifully dumb-struck face.

“You will.” You nod. “And do you know why?”

His breath quickens, lip between his teeth, when you scratch off the final star from the package and stick it to the Good column.

“Because I was a good boy?”

You toss the scorecard behind you, it clatters onto the table, and you cup the back of his hot neck.

“Because you were a very good boy.”

He stumbles back, knees unsteady, when you kiss him. You see his eyes a split second before you close yours and hot electricity swoops down to the pit of your stomach. It would be mortifying if you just fucked him right here and now – he does deserve something extra special – but fuck – you want his whole hand inside of you.

His warm palm slides across your jaw, pulling you into him, and Dieter breathes, deep and long, inhaling as much as he can. You don’t think he realizes that he’s picked you up off the ground with his arm around your back until he opens his eyes, vision hazy and off-center.

“Go lock the door, baby.”

He nods and puts you back down. You slip off your jacket as he bolts the trailer door shut.

Dieter’s mouth drops open when he turns around and sees you on your knees.

Shit, you should have stolen some knee pads from the costume department.

“Really?”

You smile at him because he asks like a kid that just got offered a puppy for Christmas. You reach towards him and he takes your hand, unsteady on weak knees

“For as long and as much as you want.”

You palm him and Dieter groans, mouth-closed at the sensation, the hard ridge of the metal zipper not one he is entirely familiar with. At least, not like this. Beneath the warm press of your palm, you feel him thicken, harden, and you press more, digging your fingers into his thighs. The muscles in his legs tense, his mouth falls open, as his hips cant forward, desperate for the new weight of the zipper.

“And I won’t make you wait, Dieter,” you say, eyes tripping up from where your hand sits, up to the flash of exposed tummy where his pants have ridden down and his shirt slid up, into his almost surprised gaze. “You’ve been very good, wearing this for me, but I want you to learn why it’s important to wear pants with buttons.”

“I-I t-t-thought,” he tries, voice abruptly cutting off when you nuzzle the constrained bulge in his pants. He tries again, eyes slamming shut as if to stifle the sensation of your warm breath so near to where he needs you the most. “I thought i-it was so I d-din’t – didn’t look bad.”

Your face still pressed into his crotch, you briefly massage his calves, then the backs of his thighs. You cup the curve of his ass through the starchy back pockets, which is remarkably prominent now that he’s in something else than baggy sweatpants.

You shake your head, nose dragging along his hot length, against the space between his hip bone and his cock, smiling.

“Baby, you know I like how you look. I always want you to be comfortable.” You look up and meet his eyes. The remaining brown not yet wholly consumed by a blurry, heated darkness softens. Somewhere beneath the hazy, disarming feelings of lust currently filling his head like a bike tire, he’s still your Dieter. Or – well, wait – at least the Dieter you know. The Dieter you have impossibly fun times with. The Dieter who makes you laugh like no one else. The Dieter that can make you fall apart until you’re a gooey, dripping mess and he still manages to stitch you back together. The Dieter that keeps you up at night thinking he might possibly want something more. “But this is so much more fun.”

Grounding your chest against his thighs, holding yourself against him as leverage, you sink your teeth into the corner of the fabric fastening his pants together. Eyes up at him again, you tug and his cock is pushed up against your tits from the force of the pull. He rocks forward, an airy gasp escaping his mouth, and the button gives, the lip of the fabric sliding back as the silver disk slips through the hole. Now your touch is unimpeded by rough fabric when you lean forward and kiss him just below the waistband of his black boxers.

It takes you a second to realize that Dieter Bravo is wearing underwear at all and you smirk up at him.

Something about your gaze makes the tips of his ears go red, as if he had been caught being very naughty. His big hand cups from your jaw to your ear, as if trying to placate you, beg you not to be mad this close to his cock.

“You said I had to dress u-up,” he says, eyes wide and round. God, he’s trying to be so good. One week of the rating system and Dieter Bravo is a trembling mess. Despite your wildly beating heart, you smirk, your thighs shaking briefly at the sudden rush of tenderness you feel for the man in front of you. You hide your own blush by mouthing that open spot just below his tummy and above his cock, wetting the black material with your tongue. Before he can whine about it, you pull back just barely, enough to curl your fingers around both his black underwear and the pants he wore for you. Just as you begin to pull down, you nip the zipper between your teeth and slowly, slowly, rubbing your nose against him, tug the metal teeth apart. His pants open and Dieter groans loudly. He’s already so sensitive.

For a mouthy, ego-driven bastard, he really did have a magnificent cock. Flushed at the base, thickest you’d ever had inside you, and he’s leaking silvery threads from the head. The vein thickly pulsating on the side makes you wonder how he hasn’t passed out from all the blood rushing to his cock.

You lick that vein, that beating pulse, and his knees buckle. His massive hand grips your shoulder and Dieter shakes his head, his mouth wrenching open.

“Please, please — mhmm — don’t tease. I-I can’t – you haven’t – please.”

As if you would be cruel to him. You feel rather dizzy, elated on the idea that you wield this much power over him. That he trusts you with all of him. There it comes again, that arching ache in your chest.

“I’m just trying to get myself ready for you,” you confess quietly. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

Dieter swallows something large in his throat, panic receding from his eyes. His smile is small and his touch on your cheek is light.

“I know.”

And you weren’t lying. You’d never forget the sound of your jaw popping and cracking the morning after you sucked him off three times before you let him come. Dieter is shockingly big, annoyingly only when he uses it against you or makes you tell him over and over just how big he is before giving it to you. For now, you just want to remind him how very appreciative you are that he gives it to you at all.

Eyes decidedly looking away from the warmth on his face, you squeeze the backs of his thighs as you relax your jaw as much as you can. Above you hear him huff with his mouth shut as you start to take him in, your tongue wetting that soft skin on the underside of his cock. One move forward and you’ve wet him halfway, tongue massaging that vein. Another drop of your head and you’ve taken him completely.

“Fuck,” Dieter murmurs, the hand on your shoulder tightening. Your heart pounds in your chest all the harder when he takes his other hand and knots your hair with his fingers. By the twitching of his thighs beneath your palms, you know it’s taking every ounce of his restraint to not buck his hips forward. “That’s it that’s my girl you take me so fucking good you feel so fucking good.”

The thing about your mouth that is markedly different from your pussy: you can’t release your gag reflex to take more of him. But fuck, you want him to fuck the back of your throat – you just might drown before it happens.

He smells surprisingly clean as your nose inches closer and closer to his skin. With each pull, you slide your tongue down the other side, until it pokes through and licks where you haven’t reached with your mouth yet, inches from his pelvis. He shudders when you use the tip of your tongue.

“Oh my god, your mouth, baby, your mouth.” The words dribble out of his slack mouth, fingers flexing in your hair as if he can mimic pushing your head down further. You pull all the way off him, tongue catching the rim of his cock and he drops his head back against his shoulders and moans. The sound of it makes your pussy throb and you breathe out your nose to stifle your own noises. This is about him. He did good. He was a good boy the whole week.

You replace your mouth with your hand. Sufficiently wet from the way you slobbered all over his cock, you use a fist around his flushed head to smear pre-cum all the way down to the base of him. You brush his balls with your knuckles, just as you fit the tip between your lips, sucking – and Dieter bucks, hard.

“Ngh – shit! S-sorry!” His nails dig into his thighs, eyes squeezing shut as silvery threads spurt out from his cock.

Maybe you’d gone too far with the whole sticker thing and he really thought this was another test. His cheeks are burnt pink, his chest heaving and it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

“Dieter,” you cry softly, gently, comfortingly. He still doesn’t open his eyes, not even when you resume stroking him. You lick the soft skin of his balls and his gasp punches the air out of his lungs, his eyes splitting open. He looks down at you, thighs trembling and you squeeze him gently. Not to edge him or punish him, but to make this last a bit longer for him. “Dieter, take your shirt off and sit down.”

He can’t move fast enough. He yanks the henley over his shoulders, the collar scraping his hair up in wild directions. He goes to sit but his thighs are shaking too much and he just sort of tumbles onto his ass. Smiling, you take your own shirt off, hoping to save this particular bra reveal for another time, but fuck, this time is as good as any. Despite his panting and squirming, his gaze rolls from your face to your tits. Emerald green with black lace, this is far too nice for a work bra and it properly communicates to him that you were going to fuck him whether or not he was going to get that final gold star. The realization is visible as it crosses his mind, bleeding hungry black in his eyes.

You take off his pants all the way, before sliding your own jeans down and to the floor. His roving gaze catches the matching panties and the noise in his throat is deep, like a smothered grunt.

“Now, I’m going to suck you off no matter what,” you say as you crawl in between his legs, before leaning back and sitting on your heels. You smooth your hands down his thighs, near his red, stark cock, but not touching. Dieter’s breathing hitches in anticipation, not sure where to put his hands or his gaze. “But I want you to answer one question for me first.”

He nods rapidly, spreading his knees further for you as if to remind you there’s other places he could be fucked.

“Why did you think I was going to punish you today?”

You’ve asked this question paraphrased a dozen times, usually when you both know the answer: he came without asking, or he came by himself, or any of the dozen reasons Dieter liked to push your buttons, only for you to break him as far as he can go. But today, there’s no sultry edge, no double meaning. Your question is sincere and it takes him a moment to understand. He swallows as his eyebrows tug down on his forehead, something vulnerable flashing in his eyes before a look of uncertainty crosses his face.

“We’ve never had sex just to have sex.” He says it like a question. He settles into the floor one hand going behind his head, the linear tattoo on his forearm dark like a third eye. “Not that I’m complaining but it’s always a competition, or because we’re bored, or you wanna work out some personal shit because of the costume department. I know this is my reward, but I figured there had to be some kinda catch to it.”

You frown deeper than him. “There’s no way we haven’t had normal sex.”

Something like a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Define normal sex.”

Now it’s your turn to go warm across the cheeks. “I mean, like . . . outside of . . . our roles. Where there aren’t roles at all. It’s just . . .”

You break off for the third time, the look in his eyes forcing you to snap your mouth shut before you say something incriminating like, just us.

Dieter shakes his head. “No, we haven’t.”

“You’re telling me in six months, that’s never happened once?” You adjust on your heels and cross your arms. “It’s not like you can remember every time we’ve had sex.”

“I do.” This, coming from him, is not a question. It’s an irrefutable statement that you don’t seem able to refute with a no you don’t. There is no room for arguing.

Driving right on through the heat of your cheeks, that ache returning, you shake your head. “Then doesn’t that get old? Having to play games every single time?”

Dieter pouts as he thinks, eyes on the roof of the trailer. “Sometimes, but I don’t mind. Not enough to want to stop fucking you.”

“So, after a week of nothing, you were totally willing to let me edge you within an inch of your life? Let me treat you badly?”

Dieter smirks and it suddenly feels like you’re the one under him. “Sure, but you like me too much to keep it going for too long. And you like watching me come.”

Your teeth grind together at this very bold accusation, your entire face blazing. Weren’t you supposed to be domming him today??

His feet slide out beside you and Dieter is the very picture of arrogance, his arm still tucked behind his head. He drums his fingers on his stomach.

“If it makes you feel any better,” he says, the smirk around his mouth soft, “I like you too.”

It doesn’t. Not really. Not when his words spear through you hot and hard, landing in your chest like a landmine. Fuck.

Fuck.

“Oh, so this is all for me, then?” You ignore the fact that you’ve slipped back into your role in active defiance of talking about this anymore, and crawl forward until your forearms frame his head. That teasing contentment fades from his face as he watches you, eyes following a line that only he can see from your nose, lips, chin, throat and tits. Your hair slips off your shoulder, darkening the light on his face when you straddle his waist. “But what about you? Don’t you want to come?”

He nods, slower than before, but only to keep from breaking eye contact with you. Light as feathers, Dieter trails his fingers up the backs of your thighs, over the curve of your ass, to settle into your hips. His mouth parts in anticipation, pink tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

“I do,” he says, rolling his neck as if he can see more of you this way. “I really fuckin’ do.”

“What a coincidence.” You shift down, dragging the wet patch on the emerald green underwear beneath your drooling cunt, shift until it slides across his half-hard cock and Dieter’s hands dig into your hips, a groan breaking off in the back of his throat. His eyes slip half-closed, a thick, smoky black enveloping that beautiful brown. “So do I.”

Grinding down over so slightly, you roll your hips once more – Dieter tenses, his hands easing to the tops of your thighs – before sitting back on his knees.

“Now relax, baby, you’ve earned it.”

You drop forward over his hips, open your mouth, and slurp him up between your lips.

The noise that comes out of his chest is broken, knocked loose, split down the middle. You take him all in one, down until your nose is tickled by his coarse hairs, and you swallow. He is immediately, instantly, rock hard and dribbling. You swallow again and his hands dive into your hair, knotting the strands around his fingers, the way a rider draws up the reins of his horse. He goads you down with just gentle pressure, needy and demanding all at once, and you take him, and you take him, and you take him until the blunt head prods the back of your throat and you gag, throat constricting, and Dieter’s eyes roll back in his head.

“Shit, that’s too fucking good.”

You breathe out your nose, pulling up just enough to keep him off your reflex, but instead you hollow out your cheeks and suck, tongue pressing up against him and around that hammering vein.

And here, here comes the sound you’ve wanted from him all night –

Dieter whines, high and keening, his neck straining, your skull pinching from where he pulls. Between your thighs, the emerald green is completely ruined, buffed out dark in the wet.

The vein throbs again and you nearly drop onto your elbows, not caring if you choke or drown or sputter, you want him in your mouth, you want that salty, gooey taste of him that you find you can’t seem to lick up enough. You want him inside you –

With a grunt that morphs into a groan as it rises up his chest, he tugs hard enough on your hair that the pain splits your mouth open, head tugged back enough that he slips out of you, a thread of pre-cum from your puffy lips to the tip of his blunt head.

You lied. This wasn’t entirely for him.

You can feel your lips twist into a snarl. “Dieter, what are you –,”

He kisses you with such a force, that noise in his chest is transferred to yours, a collision that sparks a causal nexus and his own desperation bleeds with your own. The kiss is messy, dizzying, spit and pre-cum smearing across swollen lips and wet tongues. He twists his fingers deeper into your hair, as if he can consume you through the bowl of your skull.

Your name is something that tumbles, falls, drips from him, his mouth tilted a fraction of an inch away from yours. Eyes dark, full, a beast that howls for the moon in your eyes.

He’s going to fuck your brains out on the floor of this rickety-ass trailer.

Dieter tugs you forward, drags you onto your knees over him as he settles beneath you. Your fingers knock with his in a fight to reach your panties first, to shove them down your hips and thighs, get them to the floor.

Dieter’s flushed, pupils dark, big hands grappling against the weight of you as he pulls you onto him. You are so aroused, so sunken into the smoke of lust, you go as you are moved, his cock smearing apart your wet pussy. Dieter sits up, eyes locking onto where you’ve nearly become a single creature, and then he hesitates.

Sanity seems to ring his bell, for just a moment. Without waiting, he sucks two fingers into his mouth, coating them with his spit, and you can see what he’s about to do just before he moves. You shake your head, knees aching from carrying your weight against the flat trailer floor, and sit up off him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Don’t need it,” you mutter before licking into his mouth. He drops his head back to let you sink your tongue between his lips. Both hands wrapped around his jaw, you thumb his earring and he grunts out the side of his mouth. “I want –,”

His big hands settle and it’s like he dropped a thousand pound weight between your ribs. You drop, right onto him, his cock forcibly shoving you apart in a single thrust. Dieter barks out a moan, his hands clutching your spine, teeth going for your shoulder to muffle anything else that threatens to escape him.

You swear your nerves are on fire.

He always takes his time with you, for your benefit, and his. He can be maddening and incessant and demanding, right up until this part, the part where he could actually hurt you. Right then, he waits. Lets you come to him. Let you take as much as you want and he holds you tight.

But this, this is you taking all you want and then some.

In the split second you allow for your bodies to recognize the give and the take, the swell and the invasion, you meet his gaze.

No roles. No games. No landmines.

Exposure.

Blistering and brittle.

Safety.

You curl your toes underneath you, grip his shoulders, and slide up on an inhale. On an exhale, you thrust down and you don’t know who cries out louder.

Dieter pulls you to him, arm banded around your back, the other to balance as he leans back to meet your downward strokes with his upward thrusts. His fingers pinch the clasp of your bra and the straps slide off your shoulders, your frantic bouncing knocking those emerald cups loose.

“Oh, yeah, oh fuck yeah.” He mouths at your collarbone, tonguing the sweat that blooms across your skin. Your short huffs have your chest trembling, a shudder disrupting your breath when he uses the blunt edge of his teeth against the soft curve of your breast. His nose against your skin, he turns his head and licks your nipple into his mouth. He sucks, licks, your rapid rise and fall catching your sensitive peak against the tops and bottoms of his teeth. He uses the barest hint of pressure and your back arches. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, repeating that same pattern with his tongue, while his fingers flick your hardened bud.

You think you’re going to melt, fracture and ooze into this hot pool of pleasure that hums between your legs.

“Fuck, Dieter,” your own voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high, cut short every time his hips meet yours in a harsh slap, “I can’t –,”

He rubs up against something truly devastating inside of you and immediately your legs give out. You topple into him, arms around his neck, nose pressed up against his jaw. You feel his overheated skin, a balm, a solidifying force, against your cheek. The whirling inferno in your head soothes. A drop of sweat from his hairline trails down by your eye and you lick it.

“Make me come, Dieter,” you whisper for him, of him, beg in a way that only he can hear. You nuzzle his earring and he keens. “Please – I need it – n-n-need you.”

Open-mouthed, breath hot, flush down to his chest, he slithers the hand against your back between your warm bodies and finds your clit. Drags his thumb across it as his hips pound up into you – you can’t hear what he says in your ear, the edge you’re dangling over loud and pulsing – and then there’s a softness against your throat.

The white spark between your thighs erupts and you come so hard you scream. A release. Controlled and contained brightness now spilling out everywhere, you can feel it as you soak his lap. It drips and winds down, and it drunkenly slides off you. Finally, you curl into him, a muddled tingle radiating out across your nerves.

You sink into your skin again and hear him, still whispering, still talking.

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you come it’s okay baby I’ve got you I’ve got you I’m here – I’m gonna – g-gonna – oh, shit,”

His hips thrust up one more time before a full body shudder yanks his words and the air right out of his mouth. You melt as his cum floods your insides, the warm pulses intoxicating in the place he so forcefully claimed for his own. His shoulders curved towards you, his hand pinches the knot of your spine as if to steady himself, palm scalding against your skin. In your exhaustion, your sweaty forehead falls against his.

He doesn’t seem to mind.

Seconds mold into minutes, minutes into maybe hours then days.

Dieter’s trembling elbow finally weakens and with his arm around your back, he tips you both backwards.

His cock rubs up inside of you in a new way and your cunt clenches involuntarily. You both groan when his cum leaks out of you, squeezed out by the contraction. You shift your hips to lay fully on him, and his cock slides out, but his arm around you remains.

It remains long after your breathing settles, long after the sweat dries and your exposed skin grows cold. The longer you lay together, the more you feel he’s going to start stroking you, touching you in a way that a fuck buddy shouldn’t. But he doesn’t. He keeps you close but doesn’t move.

The feeling, the ache in your chest. It’s soothed and hastened by the beating of his heart beneath yours, your ear lying flat against his chest. It beats so loudly for you.

For some unfathomable reason, you glance up at the window. It’s dark out, the sun set and gone. For all you know, you two might be the only two people on the entire lot.

“Dieter.” His name sticks in your mouth. “Dieter, I –,”

“Five stars?”

You blink, lifting your head for the first time in ages, sweat on his skin almost suctioning your ear to his chest. He’s grinning, curls matted and damp against his forehead.

He reaches up to the table behind him and snags that stupid bingo card, along with that packet of shiny gold star stickers.

This feeling, you can contain it.

For now.

Smirking down at him, you peel off one of the bigger stars and with your thumb, you press it into the center of his forehead.

“Five stars, Dieter. Five star dick.”

His smile widens.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #the bubble fanfic #the bubble 2016 #the bubble fic #the bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x oc #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #the bubble

264 notes · View notes

elysiansparadise · 11 months

Note

Are there any placements you wish you had in your birth chart?

I'm very happy with my chart, but yes, there are placements that I would love to have.

Placements I wish I had

🤍Virgo Moon. I think this is because of the love I feel towards these people, I genuinely consider them very admirable people and considerate of those around them. Empathetic, rational, highly intelligent and a trustworthy personality, they are often not given credit for that stunning creativity and I don't see them being mentioned for having the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. Their self-sufficient and independent personality that is very aware of the needs, emotions and essence of others seems incredible to me, they have that remarkable balance. Many are introspective and are not afraid to analyze the depths of their emotions and it is something that not many usually do.

🤍Libra Mercury. Minutes have passed and you won't even know how but you will be there, listening or reading what they communicate, because they have the quality of catching and captivating through communication. Convincing, astute and above all highly intelligent communicators. Since I mentioned their intellect, in addition to seeing a situation from many different perspectives, they understand ideas quite quickly, in addition to this, these people love the idea of continuing to learn about... any subject in general, they have a wide variety of interests.

🤍Uranus in the 5th house. Their personality is enigmatic, sassy, multifaceted and full of charisma. They know how to grab your attention, but more importantly, they know how to keep it. They have an impressive stage presence and everyone I've met has a skill that stands out considerably from the rest. They are highly creative, very witty and socially charming, even if they call themselves introverts, they make memorable first impressions. They are passionate and unique lovers, I would dare to say that they are even difficult to forget.

🤍Venus in the 6th house. Beyond being charming, kind and self-conscious people, I have noticed that they have a unique quality that they don't realize, that of giving beauty touches to anything. Impeccable taste in fashion, aesthetics and an incredible eye for details and any organizational issue. They do things with their heart, they put their soul into projects, hobbies or causes that they consider important. Their souls are gentle and beautiful, knowing them will bring you many surprises, and each one will be better than the last. They are great as a friend and as a couple, they always seek the well-being of those they love and are capable of giving their best in their relationships. As a personal comment, the dates with them are incredible, they seek to do things that both enjoy and find a balance in their relationships.

🤍Mercury in the 9th house. Smart, funny, eloquent and people with extensive knowledge in their areas of interest. I love it. They are curious people by nature and once something catches their attention they dig deep. A quality to highlight in addition to all the above is their maturity and ability to understand that others think differently and instead of seeing it as a threat to their beliefs, they find what is fascinating in ideas different from their own. They defend their points of view tenaciously and can be very persuasive and skillful with their speech.

🤍Mars in Earth house. I think that in any of these houses [2nd, 6th or 10th] you have two things that I deeply admire, productivity and ambition. I really admire their ethics and the way they work, tenacious, strategic and excellent at long-term planning. They usually have a back-up plan and don't put expectations on anyone. They are demanding of themselves and are very professional in getting the work done. Qualities that I find very attractive. I add that I would like that in addition to this there was either a sextile with Saturn or an opposition.

🤍Moon-Saturn trine, sextile, quintile or biquintile. The self-control and resilience that these aspects give me fascinates me, it gives birth to a strong individual who is aware of all the difficulties they have gone through and is capable of trying to move on. When the Moon-Saturn aspects are used positively, the natives tenaciously rebuild themselves and although they look back to see those things from their past that afflict them, they know that they deserve better than that, that they are better than that and that their past does not define them. Likewise, they give a lot of peace and tranquility in their relationships, they are a great pillar for a partner, friends and family, and most importantly, they seek to understand and take care of what they most love.

#astrology #natal chart #birth chart #astro notes #placements I wish I had

589 notes · View notes

grippingbeskar · 2 years

Text

cutting it close | the mandalorian

mando x fem!reader

word count: 11.4k

warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (oral f receiving, mxf intercourse) swearing, canon typical violence, din clubbing deserves its own warning guys.

a/n: a labour of true love. i wrote half of this so long ago, but was inspired by an incredible source to continue.we are really living up the the user name in this one bc WE ARE GRIPPING BESKAR FOR REAL. shoutout to @everybirdfellsilent for being the BEST person to bounce ideas off, catching all of my grammar errors (there were many) and helping me figure out how someone whispers in a helmet. you are a real one and i love you!!!!! okay enjoy goodbye.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Are you sure he’s in there?” You ask the Mandalorian, who even through his helmet looks as uncomfortable as you are. He just holds up the tracking fob and it beeps rapidly, hardly making a sound over the thumping of the bass in the club in front of you.

“Guess so.” He yells over the sound. If you can barely hear him out here, you don't even want to imagine what it's like inside. The sound vibrates through the concrete and you can hear the high pitched sound of girls singing somewhere in the back, blue and red lights flicking out underneath the door you both stand in front of.

“I’ll go. You can wait out here. Your shiny head’s gonna reflect the light too much and give me a headache.” You go to take the tracker from him but he yanks it away. Rolling your eyes, he just leans and opens the door for you, and there's no point in arguing as you walk inside, the music instantly flooding your senses.

You have been helping Mando track down a couple of syndicate members while he was out on Corellia, promising to share the credits and take you off the planet if you showed him where they might be hiding. You have no loyalties here, and if you could get a free ride while also making those assholes pay for all the people they’ve fucked over, then you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t enjoy it.

The thump of the bass is annoying, only because you aren’t drunk. Usually you love this shit, and the packed dance floor stuffed with swaying bodies gives you a little bit of a rush as you remember all the good nights you’ve had here. Drinking till the sun comes up, meeting strangers and making them your best friends for a night, taking some lucky guy home with you only to kick him out the next morning, bored and hungover. It makes you smile to think about how your life used to be, free of responsibility, but as the Mandalorian comes up next to you, you are reminded of why you’re here.

“Where should we look?” He yells, and you pull him down by his shoulder so he can repeat it. He stiffens under your touch, but over the past couple days he’s started to get used to you putting your hands on him, you think. You think he’s probably been alone for most of his missions, so being around someone as outgoing as you; it’s probably a lot to take in

The Mandalorian has not, will not ever get used to the way you touch him. The first time you reached out for him, pulling his arm in the direction of some abandoned house, he nearly dropped to his knees at the way your fingers curled around his armor. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from your hand on him, how your skin looked against the silver beskar, how your eyes bore holes in his helmet, like you could see him through all of it. He would never admit how he went back to the ship and jacked off like he never had before, only thinking about your hand gripping him, tighter and tighter. You wave your hand in front of his face, and he has to look around to get his bearings.

“Hey! I said through here. Come.” Your hand takes his, and he lets you lead him through the crowd. Once his brain swims back into his own head, he tightens his hand on yours, coming closer behind you as you shove your way through. It gets easier as you go further, people starting to move in the presence of his giant frame.

He doesn’t notice that, he doesn’t even notice where you're leading him, all thoughts and two eyes on your hand, gripping his, and he doesn’t think he will be able to get the image out of his head.

Threading through the last of the crowd, you have to knock a few people out of the entrance to the back, a couple making out looking up and giggling as they watch you lead a giant Mandalorian into the red rooms. The soft material of the curtain sends shivers up your arm as you pass through it, and you hear Mando behind you swatting at it, and the rip of material as some of it gets caught on his armor.

“Hey darlin’. Come back for more?” You hear a familiar voice and you roll your eyes at the sound of it. Shaun was an old friend, although friend was a very loose term. You hooked up once, extremely drunk, kissing in this very room for about three seconds before his girlfriend at the time came in and smacked the shit out of him.

“More of watching you get your ass beat by a girl?” He physically winces, and being the complete push over that he is, when he sees The Mandalorian trail behind you, he swallows hard and backs up a bit. “We need to go downstairs. My friend wants to pay a visit.”

“Come on. You kn-know I can’t.” Stepping forward, you hear the click of a blaster from behind you, and The Mandalorian takes perfect aim.

“You can. You will, too. Or he will make you.” You motion your head over your shoulder, and you can see the way he’s standing without turning your head, one leg slightly bent, casually waiting to shoot.

“They’ll kill me if I do.” He whispers and looks at the floor. You kick the cheap carpet out of the way and see a tiny sliver of light, a shadow crossing over it. The fob beeps from behind you, faster than before.

“I’ll kill you if you don’t.” Mando moved closer behind you, you could only tell because his voice got louder and you could see a little glint of beskar in the corner of your eye. You just put your hand out, and the key to the tiny lock on the trap door falls into your hand, Shaun stepping back. As soon as the lock clicks he bolts.

Coward.

Not like he’ll have anything to worry about once Mando goes down. You flip up the trap door as quietly as possible, and go to take the first step when a gloved hand falls on your shoulder.

“Stay up here. Keep watch.” He goes down first, and before you lose his head down the door you whisper to him.

“Be safe, okay?”

He freezes.

He can fight twenty guys at once, unarmed, and not even think about it, but the worried look in your eyes and your hand gently running across the side of his helmet makes every muscle in his body freeze. He manages a nod and you smile, closing the door over his head, and he lets out a very long sigh, trying to contain himself. He needs to focus, and the only way he can seem to do that is if he isn’t near you, so when your face disappears from view, he slips back into the zone.

He drops and finally hits solid ground, blaster fire immediately following. He hears the door above him swing open, seeing your hair whizz past his vision as you fold yourself into the tiny gap behind the stairs, shuffling along to get a vantage point above him. While watching you one of the men throws a punch against his armor. He wouldn’t have even felt it if he wasn’t looking, and it pissed him off so much that he just picks up the guy and smashes him down into the table, breaking it in two.

Watching the Mandalorian in his element, he moves easily through the men, hardly having to look when he fires a blaster or throws a punch. You shoot a couple heading out the back, not entirely sure which one he is after, but they deserved it anyways. These guys were notorious spice runners, but it wasn’t the drugs that made them bad, it was them selling it to young kids, telling them if they sell it all they will make them rich, and then forcing them to work out the debt when they inevitably don't come through. It was a fucked up system, one that you had been trying to take down for the past couple months, but having a giant beskar bounty hunter on your team was doing things now that would have taken you years alone.

Bodies start to pile up and pretty soon you notice the Mandalorian running out of guys to kill, so you shimmy back through the ladder and drop down. By the time you reach him, he’s cracking the skull of the last guy on the wall, his body sliding down leaving green blood in a trail. The tracking fob still beeps in the quiet of the room. You reach into the Mandalorians belt and pull it out, wandering around the room trying to get a better signal.

The Mandalorian can’t move. You didn’t even think twice, just shoved your hands in his belt, so dang close to where he’s pictured ever since he saw you. You’ve ignited something in him that he thought went dormant when he took the helm, but you; your hands, your confidence - he can’t hide the reaction you cause.

You try not to make a big deal out of it, try not to smile, to acknowledge the way he froze up under you. It's not possible, you and him. Even though you have thought about it many, many times. You don't even know how it would work; would he keep his armor on? Take those gloves off, the ones that sometimes slip up his hand and you see a sliver of tanned, real skin that sends your stomach crazy, and would he put his hands on you? You drag your eyes back to the fob in your hand, and when you lift it above your head it beeps wildly.

“How did he get past us?” You shake your head, because there’s no way he did. You were behind the stairs, and no one passed through the Mandalorians' brutal assault.

“Maybe he was never down here. I don’t know what he looks like. Guy’s a ghost.” The modulator thinks out loud, and you both look up at each other in realization, and a bit of shock on your part.

“There is no way.” It makes you laugh, because it's that unbelievable. “Shaun is a pussy. No way he could pull that off. He is not the guy we’re after. No. No way.”

“Where does that door lead to?” He’s referring to the door Shaun went out of, but you just turn and start up the ladder, still in some weird state of half shock and half amazement.

“Shaun. Fucking Shaun! You know this guy burnt his own eyebrows off because he was holding a blowtorch the wrong way?” The Mandalorian says nothing, but you just can’t believe it.

Shaun - the guy who cried when you told him he probably wasn’t going to be a Jedi was helping these syndicate guys run a child spice ring. You cannot believe this shit.

You ram the door Shaun fled into, and the pumping music instantly hits your chest, a hard bass line beating through the floor. You can feel the armor looming behind you, your ears tuning into the way Mando breathes even over the volume. Both of you take in the sight in front of you, the club is somehow ten times more busy, hardly giving you room to move. You scan the wave of people, darkness covering them and hands and bodies swaying way too fast to even see a face.

“I see him.” He says, and you look up to him. His arm comes over your shoulder, armor brushing lightly over the bare skin there. His hand is easy to follow, your focus deadly on the way his chest touches your back when he breathes in. Squinting, you see the unmistakable red hair bobbing through the crowd. “Can't get a clear shot. We need to move closer.”

“Follow me.” You pull him towards the crowd, but he doesn’t move.

“We’ll go around.” You look, both to your left and right, and see no way around, bodies just as thick to the walls as they are in the middle, and Shaun is moving further into the crowd.

“It’s too slow.” You pull him again to no avail.

“I’m not going in there.” He pulls you back to him, and your hand presses against his chest. You swear you can feel his heart beating under the thick layer of armor.

The Mandalorian has never felt so out of his element. The heat signatures of all the people around him are blown out in his helmet, the loud music blaring his senses, but that isn’t what's making him nervous. It's you, your hand on his chest, eyes wide and searching. He feels your look in his bones, like you're staring right at him, the real him. He swallows, and knows you can read him like a book.

“It's gonna be fine. You’re big and scary, they’ll move.” He doesn’t do anything, just stares at your mouth as you talk. “Are you like, claustrophobic?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“Not big on crowds.” You tilt your head up at him, and he knows you picked that up from him. You mirror him, the way he scans the room, the way you change your stance when you look at him, keeping one hand on your blaster whenever you're outnumbered. It makes his heart beat faster to think you notice him like that, and the blood rushes to every part of him that he needs to keep tame. Your eyes flick down quickly then back up to him.

“Hey, come on! I’ll hold your hand the whole time.” You can almost see him roll his eyes in that giant helmet.

“Not helping.” His head swivels towards Shaun who is moving fast through the crowd, his small frame allowing him to slide through easier.

“We’re gonna lose him, Mando.” You sigh. You aren’t forcing him, not pulling his arm and dragging him through the crowd, even though the guy you have been hunting for what feels like forever is escaping as you stand there.

“Fine.” The Mandalorian goes to step forward into the crowd, but hesitates. It’s something you’ve only seen him do a handful of times, and usually it means something bad - no, horrible and unexpected is about to happen, because if he hasn’t planned for something, you have no way in Hell to be ready for it- “It’s Din.”

It’s so quiet, if you weren’t so in tuned with his voice you would have missed it.

“What?” Eyes wide, you tilt your head all the way up, making an effort to stare exactly where his eyes might be.

“My name. It’s Din.” You swallow, all the words in your brain suddenly vanishing to make room for the most important one. “You’ve been around long enough. You should know it.”

Din.

Diiiiiiiin.

You go to speak, say something in reply, although you aren’t sure what words would equal the meaning of his confession. Maybe he really was claustrophobic, and you saying his name was some last ditch effort to focus elsewhere. You don’t get a chance to ask him though, it’s as if he senses you're about to speak and slips past you, entering the crowd, but not before your hand slips into his, fingers lacing in between his gloved ones.

He’s thankful for your guiding arm as all his years of training seem to vanish when you touch him for the fourth time tonight.

You weave through the bodies as best you can, trying to track Shaun’s head. The club is huge and there's people everywhere, music pounding and flashing lights only illuminating the tops of peoples bouncing heads. You can feel the gloved hand squeeze yours and you stop, the minuscule proof of reciprocation halting your movements. You can feel him step once more to come right up behind you, his helmet so close you can hear the modulator imitating his breath.

“He stopped. We’re being watched.” Your hands stay linked as you look around. The both of you were practically dead center in the crowd, and you can make out Shaun’s tiny head somewhere to your right, surrounded by significantly bigger guards. Shit. You go to move toward him, but the Mandalorian - Din - Din’s free hand grabs your hip and pulls you back, the movement catching you so surprised that you slam into him. “Guards are armed.”

“They’re gonna shoot the place up if we don't lose them.” All the guards surrounding Shaun have their hands on their blasters, and the more you look the more guards you notice.

“You know this place better. What’s our play?” He was still pressed up against you, and his hand was still on your hip. You could feel the vibration of the speaker's bass through your feet, and you tried to think of a way to lose the guards. They weren’t looking straight at you, more just in the general direction of the crowd. You were sure they knew Shaun was being chased, but with the dark lights of the club, they wouldn’t be able to make out faces. Or helmets, hopefully.

“Dance with me.”

Thank the Maker for the visor, because Din's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He was having a hard enough time concentrating on anything except the way you were so close to him, and how he was pretty sure his glove was touching a tiny part of your skin, so when you suggested moving of any kind, his first reaction was to deny, if only for his own self preservation.

“No.”

“Come on. I’m not asking you to bend me over; just, I don't know, move a little. We can get closer and lose them in the crowd. Before you know it we will be out the door with Shaun, and the guards won't even know we were there.” You were twisting slightly in his hold so you could speak in his ear, and he found himself sliding his hand further across your waist.

“Okay.” You nod up at him but don’t move for a second, waiting for him to relax. “Lead the way.”

You felt so warm. Maybe it was the nightclub, or maybe it was him. Probably him, the way you begin to sway your hips just a fraction to either side had him grinding his teeth to focus on literally anything else. You let your head come back a little to rest on his chest and your other hand was still locked with his own. He tried to think about the fifty armed guards that were going to shoot everyone in here if this plan didn’t work, but no amount of danger, no risk would pull his mind away from how your free hand came up behind his neck, and how his hand had found your opposite hip, his forearm strong and tight against your stomach.

You were more focused than you had been this entire time. Not on Shaun, or the guards, or moving towards the exit, but on grinding your hips just right so you could feel some part of Din underneath the armor. A name to the person you knew hid beneath. You pulled out your best moves, remembering every night you spent in this club before tonight. It’s like every guy was just a practice run, because none of them felt as good, as strong or as fucking big behind you as The Mandalorian. His arm was pulling you against his chest, and the way his fingers twitched every time your ass found his groin; that was all the encouragement you needed.

“You can move. I don’t mind.” You lean up to look at him before flicking your hair to the other side of your shoulder. He was stiff as a board behind you, and you presumed he didn’t do a lot of clubbing in his line of work, but if this was going to work he needed to at least pretend.

“I- I’m not sure I know how.” You smile up at him. You don’t laugh, although he thinks anyone else would, but instead your hand unwinds from his own and comes on top of the one across your stomach.

“You can do whatever you want to me.” Your eyelashes flutter up at him, and the lights flashing across your face did nothing to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks.

The music, however, covered the slight groan Din made when you said those words. His head dropped, wanting to hide his face even though you couldn’t see it.

Maker, does that work for him.

He copies you, moving in time with your hips, and every time you change direction he has to grip you tighter to make sure you don't stop. Keeping your arm over his you take a step to the right towards the target.

“This is okay?” His voice sounds deeper than usual, and it sends shivers down your spine.

“Good. It’s good.” Maker, he was going to lose his shit. All those nights he had imagined you, imagined what you might feel like against him, around him, none of that would have prepared him for the real thing. You were moving like water against him, fluid and free as you bent your knees a little, sliding down only an inch before coming back up and taking another step to the right. He sees a guard to his left, and moves before he can think, protecting you becoming a sixth sense.

He spins, switching sides with you, and as he does so his hold comes around to your back. You were now face to face, his arm still holding you just as tight against his front, and your arm was hung around his neck, pulling him down closer to your face.

“Guard moved.” He justifies, and you can’t help but smile.

“Who knew The Mandalorian had moves?” He laughs a little and you can feel him relax, the arm around your back finding a more comfortable position to rest just above your ass. “Did they teach you ballet on Mandalore, too?”

“Very funny. I told you I don’t know what I’m doing.” You roll your eyes and both of you take another step towards Shaun, dancing bodies pressing you both closer together.

“You’re doing fine.” Fine was an understatement. For someone who claims they don’t dance, he matches every one of your moves perfectly, and it even starts to feel good; better than it ever did with any of those slimy dudes you danced with before.

“Yeah?” He breathes, dropping his head next to yours to scan the crowd behind you. You lose all power for a second, only being able to focus on how he was holding you and whispering as best he could in your ear.

“Mhmm. Very fine.” He laughs against you again, and leads you another step into the crowd.

Din was putting everything he had into not losing all composure right here. The fact that he could see your heat signature through his helmet wasn’t helping. He knew what yours usually looked like, he had spent enough time staring at you to picture it, so when he dropped his eyes and could see your stomach and chest burning red ever since he pulled you against him, his hold on himself became looser and looser.

“How are we doing?” You have to constantly blink to remind yourself why you are both here. He moves his hips against you and you shiver, the feeling of him moving against you too good to hide.

“Still too far.” Your back was to the target, so he had to keep an eye on him. He didn’t want to, didn’t give a shit about the target or the money or the beeping tracking fob. All he wanted was to stay here, with you dancing on him. Your forehead drops to rest on his chest. The music starts to pick up and so does your hips, naturally swaying to the beat.

“S-slow down.” Din stutters. Actually stutters. His voice is slow and crackly when he whispers in your ear. “Can’t think.”

“Why’s that?” The energy of the club disappears, and it's just you and him, occasional blue and red flashes lighting up his helmet.

“We have to focus.” You keep dancing, not wanting this moment to end. He feels so good against you, the cool armor against your hot skin electrifying every movement.

“Worried you can’t handle it, big guy?” You smirk up at him and pull his helmet closer, linking your arms around the back of his neck.

He’s slipping. Too far gone; with your hands around his neck and your hips swaying like that, right against him, there’s no looking back now.

“I can handle it.” You swallow hard at his voice that is now full of confidence, the one he uses when he talks to a target.

“Guess we’ll find out.” His arm at the back of you tightens, and you both realize at the same time what line you are crossing. There's no doubt that either of you haven’t thought about it, it’s all he has thought about since he met you, but it was all too confusing, too much all of a sudden. He has no idea how to handle you, handle whatever it is that you made him feel, but with you in the dark atmosphere of this club and the way you were moving, he can think of nothing else.

Both moving with the music, you start to dance less and grind more, finding a better pace to feel more of him against you. Both of his hands are on you now, one drawing explorative lines up your side while the other holds you to him.

“Guards are coming through the crowd.” His tone becomes a little more serious as the danger suddenly becomes unavoidable. You sneak a quick glance, and you can see them all, pushing people out of the way clearly looking for someone in particular, the shiny head of his helmet practically a beacon. It was so dark you couldn’t make out their faces, let alone Shaun’s or even Din who stared right at you, the guards only obvious because they were the only ones not dancing.

“You need to blend in. Or hide.” You whisper, still trying to act natural and ignore the slight hardness you can feel under your movements. “They’re going to kill everyone in here if they start shooting.”

The club was packed, and syndicate members aren’t exactly known for their conflict resolution, so both of you had no doubt they would shoot their way through innocent people just to minimize risk.

The Mandalorian had two options. He either let everyone in here take the risk of getting shot in the inevitable bloodbath that was going to happen when the guards got close enough to see him, which they only would be able to do because of how reflective his armor was.

Or, he could lean into the very bad second option which had a lot less risk for everyone else, but risked everything he had built for the last 20 years.

Even in the helmet he could only see your face, the darkness blurred everyone around him except how your pretty eyes were staring up at him, letting your hair fall over your shoulders. He couldn’t help but think how soft it would feel in his fingers. He could see your mouth, and how you held your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes glancing around trying to gage how much time you have before he gets you both killed.

“We need to move. They’re going to kill them.” You say, and it’s only because you finally stopped your torturous movement that he can think clearly for a second, or maybe not so clearly considering what he was about to do.

“I have an idea.” Comes through the modulator, and you're half surprised he’s still in there considering how quiet he’s been.

“Cutting it a bit close.”

“Do you trust me?” A gloved hand comes up to your cheek and your eyes fall on him. The glint of the beskar catches the eye of a guard and you can see them coming your way to investigate, caving you in to him at all angles. You lean up on your toes, getting as close to him as possible to make sure no one can hear your answer.

“I trust you, Din.”

“Good.” The hiss of an armor seal, the sound of something hitting the floor and a flash of brown curls under blue light are the last things you remember before his lips found yours.

They were soft. Surprisingly soft. He moved slowly, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do now that he had found you. There was something so intimate about how slowly he kissed you, nothing but his lips moving against yours, only taking what you give him. You were caught so off guard you aren’t sure you moved in the first few seconds, but as soon as the realization of what was happening washed over you, you gave him everything you had.

One of your hands found his hair, slightly damp from sweat and the other pulled at his neck as if he could get any closer to you. You deepened the kiss, sliding your tongue into his mouth to show him just how okay you are with this, and he responds immediately. All of a sudden what was once a distraction kiss becomes something much more wild, more desperate and much more fitting for the feelings you both have for each other. For a second, you break apart, and its enough for you to utter the only word, the only name you will ever think of again. “Din.” You kiss the name onto his lips before he takes over again, the two of you practically becoming one.

He thinks he’s died and gone straight to hell, hearing you whisper his name. His real name. It’s unlike anything he’s experienced before. You taste sweet, like sugar, and your mouth moves on his like it’s never done anything else. He pulls you tighter, grabs at your hip while the other holds your face to his, using it to obscure himself to everyone but you. He is very aware of how wrong this is, but your teeth bite his bottom lip ever so slightly before sliding your tongue back in his mouth and he suddenly doesn’t care. He is hidden from everyone in the club by the darkness and fog, most of them too drunk or too absorbed in their own lives to notice him, which is exactly what the guards have blended you both in with as they begin to fan out around you. Just another couple kissing in the sea of dancing bodies.

He knows the guards pass as soon as he hears the clicks of blasters in holsters behind him. The threat is eliminated, passed, so why hasn’t he put his helmet back on? Why hasn’t he ripped his mouth away from you?

Every second you kiss him back makes it harder for him to think logically, and when you moan into his hard grip on your back and arch into him he doesn’t think he will ever be able to stop.

You feel the guard brush past you, but Din is kissing you so hard, so fervently that you don’t think you could deny him anything if he asked you right now, so you make no move to pull away, to slow down.

“Fuck.” His voice is just as low out of the modulator, and you feel your legs go weak at the sound of it. You made him say that, you affected him. Just like he affects you. You can feel his skin, a slight stubble around his cheeks, his hair longer than you would have thought, and it’s curly in your hands which for some reason makes him ten times hotter. You want more than anything to pull away and stare at him, take in the image of him, knowing no one will see it but you. But you don’t, and you just let him kiss you until neither of you can breathe, and then a little longer.

When he pulls away you expect him to cover up fast, and you keep your eyes closed not wanting to betray his trust in a futile moment. However, he just rests his forehead against yours, and you can feel the slightly clammy skin of his face against yours. You are both panting for air in the small space between you, and he breaks the silence first.

“They’re gone. Shaun too.” You mentally curse, but you're having trouble being upset at all at this moment, the overwhelming feeling of him is still flooded throughout your body, leaving no room for anything or anyone else.

“That was…”

“A good distraction?” His breath is warm on your face and you are so scared to move because then you won’t be able to kiss him again.

“I was going to say ‘fucking amazing’ but yeah, that too.” He laughs for just you, and you don’t think you will ever get tired of hearing that.

“Now who can’t handle it?” You laugh as he teases you, and nearly roll your eyes until you remember you can’t open them. You put your hand over your face. “What are you doing?”

“In case I see. When you put the…” your foot nudges the beskar helmet on the ground and you feel him nod against you.

“Right.” He forgot everything, forgot the creed he committed his entire life to, and that was only a fucking kiss. He leant down and picked up the helmet, shoving it back on.

It was the first time he resented having to wear it.

Your eyes open and find the black visor staring back at you. You smile up at him and start to sway your hips, placing your hands on his side and resting your face in the crook of his neck.

“Can we pretend a little longer?” You mumble into his shirt at his neck, and he stiffens slightly. You feel a hand adjust his pants before it finds the back of your head.

“I wasn’t pretending.”

“Me either.” The lights start to slow around you, blue and red no longer coming in flashes but waves, and you look up at him.

“Come with me.” He says it half as a question, half a command and his hand intertwines with yours again.

“Where?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere.” You laugh and lean back, leading him towards the exit before you turn around and start squeezing through bodies. He follows close behind, keeping watch for any remaining guards or any ideas for where Shaun might have gotten to. Soon the cool night winds it’s way over your skin and you shiver, the Mandalorian coming right up behind you and guiding you away.

“I didn’t see where he went. Do you have anything?” You look up but he’s not focused on searching, his eyes are set in one direction.

“Track him tomorrow.”

“But what abo-“

“Do you know how many nights I’ve waited to touch you?” Your eyes widen, and you have no words. He’s stopped walking in the middle of the street, but it’s late and dark so no one else is around to witness. You shake your head. “Any idea how many nights I thought about you? Dreamt of you?” Again, you shake your head.

“What did I do? In your dreams?” You breathe, the foggy night steaming a cloud over his helmet as he leans in close.

“I’m going to show you. If you let me.” He tugs on your hand, gentle enough to let you pull away, but you grab his wrist tight and make sure the hold doesn’t break.

“Show me.” He’s too focused on getting where he wants to go that he doesn’t stop immediately. “Din. Please.” He pulls you against him and starts walking a little slower.

“You said that; in my dream.”

“What? Show me?” He shakes his head.

“Please.”

“I say that all the time. I have great manners.”

“Not the way I’m thinking, cyar’ika.” Your heart flutters at the name, and the way he says it, how it vibrates through his chest and reaches into your own. You round a corner and his ship comes into view.

“Guess you’ll have to demonstrate.” The hand on your lower back drops and rests on your ass, giving it a little squeeze that makes you jump into him.

“I plan on it.” Your breath catches in your throat and suddenly you're moving at an almost inhuman pace, jogging to try and keep up with his giant steps. You can hear the passing voices of people heading home for the night, and you wonder where you would have ended up had you not lost Shaun tonight.

Realistically, if you had told your past self you would leave without the bounty tonight, she probably would have slapped you. Right now, though, as the Razor Crest comes into view, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect ending.

Or a more anticipated one. He moves like a predator - fast, swift and with purpose, having the ramp of the Crest already opening by the time you round the corner, hand still entangled tightly with his own.

You were high on adrenaline, the events of just minutes ago still fogging your brain, but your concentration had nowhere else to be but right here, as the soft lights of Corellia disappeared behind the closing ramp. You let out a shuddering breath as Din steps toward you. You can hardly see him, going off your other senses to gauge exactly where he is.

You can smell him. You feel strange, inhaling deeply in the almost pitch black of the hull, but you think it might be your favorite smell. It reminds you of safety, a little hint of vanilla mixed with cedar wood, a result of the single, half empty bottle of all-in-one soap you once glimpsed in the corner of his refresher. You don’t hear him step behind you, but the smallest hint of air brushes over your shoulder, and the scent overwhelms you.

You turn around, exceedingly eager. Your chest practically slams into him, and it’s only when you settle your hands on his ribcage you hear how fast you were breathing.

“Relax. It’s just me.” You let out a soft laugh, trying to hide your nerves.

“That’s kind of the problem.” You say and instantly feel him move back.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” You want to slam your head against the wall. Of course he would be sweet, and kind, exactly the kind of guy you always want but never find yourself going for. Willing some of that confidence from the club to miraculously appear, you blindly reach out, playing to pull him back to you, and yank the first part of armor you find.

You wouldn’t call it a squeak, exactly. You don’t think that it would be possible for Din to emit a sound like that, but something breathy and surprising cracks the silence in the ship as you pull him forward. Your hand had slipped right over the ridge of his breastplate, finding the one weak spot on his armor even in the dark. You could feel him swallow against the back of your knuckles.

“I want…” Two hands rest lightly on your body. One is on your hip, his thumb running small lines up and over the curve of it, and the other rests on your cheek. His skin - exposed, and against yours, is rough as his fingers begin to thread into your hair. The heel of his palm takes up most of your cheek, and a wave of warmth rushes through every part he touches.

“What do you want, cyar’ika?” Even though it’s pitch black, your eyes flutter shut at the beautiful jumble of words. You recognise the language, only because you’ve heard Din say a few words here and there during hunts, but mainly only the swear words. Now, the language sounds like a dream, and it doesn’t really matter what it means, only that he’s saying it to you, and it almost sounds like a compliment.

“I want you, Din.” You feel the hand in your hair tighten slightly, flex and thread further towards the back of your head. The hand on your hip leaves only for a second, and in the next moment a loud clang on the ground has you almost jumping into Din’s arms.

“Sorry.” He laughs, and your heart stops. His voice is perfectly clear. Handsome. Can a voice be handsome? You keep your eyes closed, afraid to break the spell of whatever magic must be enchanting you right now. “Come here.”

You don’t get a chance to fully appreciate the sound of him, without his helmet for the second time tonight, but when his lips gently press against yours, you get lost in him. You’ll have him talking soon enough. Emboldened by how tentative he moves against you, your hands slip out from underneath his breastplate and into his hair. Your eyes squeeze shut tighter at the feeling, and your fingers get tangled in the slightly damp mess of curls. It was longer than you imagined, and soft. So, so soft. Maybe that all-in-one soap needed a little more credit.

When you use the new hold you have on him to pull him closer, he groans into your mouth. The sound has you sighing in content, and you drag your fingertips over his scalp, massaging the sound out of him again. The hand on your hip slides up to your lower back, holding you against him, tight. Everything comes rushing back, the music that was flowing around you minutes ago, the energy of the club, the way Din was letting himself feel you without hesitation. You move against him, and his hands drop from your face to just under your ass, and in one go he has you up in his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his back.

He takes a single step and makes the distance from the center of the hull, pushing you up against the wall. The cold metal is hard against your back, but so is the unyielding hold of his armor on your front, and it immobilizes you in the best way. His hands, unrestrained by the gloves he usually wears, begin to massage just under your ass, fingers spreading out along the fabric covered skin. His teeth lightly graze on your bottom lip, and the movement has you gasping and chasing his mouth when he pulls back.

“So many people in that damn club.” He grumbles, blessing you with another light kiss before dragging the soft skin of his lips down to your jawline. His tongue darts out only slightly, tasting you. Some small part of your brain that is still able to process words reminds you of how reluctant he was when you all but forced him into the crowd.

“I didn’t mean t-to make you go in - fuck, Din.” He finds a spot just under your ear, biting and kissing while you attempt to form a sentence.

“Not what I mean.” His curls tickle the underside of your chin as he dips his head, kissing the front of your throat. Something about it feels like surrender, and you are more than happy to give in to it. “Wanted you all to myself.”

“You could of fucking had me months ago.” It comes out a little more aggressive than you planned, but it’s painfully true. All it would have taken was one word from him, and you would have given him whatever he wanted. It pissed you off to think of all the wasted time, especially when it might be coming to an end once you tracked down the final bounty. Your words make him stutter, his hair brushing your cheek before his forehead rests on your own.

“Really?” You can hear his smile through his words, and it makes your heartbeat a little faster just imagining it.

“Best bounty hunter in the galaxy, but can’t pick up a single hint, huh?” You slide your arms around his neck, one hand pulling him back to your mouth. He lets you lead, melting into your touch as your hand starts to massage the thick muscles at the base of his neck. He moans, and you can feel the effect of the small sound under your clothes, so you track it down again, repeating the motion. He was still wearing his full armor except the gloves and helmet, so you did your best to relax his neck and shoulders the best you could reach. He rewards the movement with those same sweet sounds, taking your full weight by holding you in his forearms.

“Maker, you- you feel so fucking good.” You start to roll your hips against him, and from this angle you can feel him, hard and big under that damn armor.

“Feels better without my clothes on.” You arch your neck to whisper in his ear, leaving soft kisses along his cheek before returning to his lips.

His restraint doesn’t last long, not that he really had much. He was planning to take this slow - for you as much as for himself. He knew you hadn’t gone out like you used to since you met him; bounty hunting tended to involve a whole lot of late nights and early mornings. Of course, he was glad you weren’t taking any men into your bed while he was around, but he knew it was something you were… experienced at. It had been a while for him, so when he knew the feelings he was having weren’t just physical, he was really shooting in the dark for a chance with you at the best of times.

Now it was here, he was going to make it good.

So good that you never thought about anyone, ever again. He was going to consume you, just as you had consumed him.

Everything changes suddenly. Like neither of you expect it. Din slides you out of his arms, and on your way down, his fingers hook under the flimsy material of your shirt. It sits just above your jeans, exposing a small line of skin that Din’s fingertips currently graze against. There’s nothing you can do to hide the goosebumps that prickle your skin. He seems to stop; waiting for you to shove him away. Waiting for some kind of sign that he is reading this wrong, that he must be.

You drop your hands to his own and, following your lead, he takes your shirt off and throws it somewhere in the darkness.

“Your turn.” You whisper, and your hands come up to his neck, pulling at the fabric that covers him. He still isn’t used to the way you touch him, and if this keeps up, he’s pretty sure he never will be.

It’s a meticulous process - taking off his armor. He can do it with his eyes closed, but it still takes a while. You don’t seem to mind, though. Piece by piece, he sheds the armor away, letting it clatter to the floor around you with little care. Your hands hover over the tops of his, learning, and soon you take initiative by following his actions, repeating the steps on his opposite side.

He doesn’t think he will ever want to take his armor off in any other way.

Your fingers are more delicate, where his own rip and tug at the connectors, your own untangle. Where he shrugs it off, shaking his arm to let the plate tumble to the floor, your hands are feather light as you slide the remaining beskar, and he closes his eyes, content to just feel as you complete the job. Soon enough, he’s standing in front of you in less clothes than he’s ever worn in front of another person.

Any other time, he’s fully clothed, armor only shifted in necessary places. He’s never wanted to be felt, never wanted someone’s hands on him, but after feeling you so close tonight, he doesn’t think he could go another second without it.

You blindly reach out to his face, the dark still keeping his creed intact. He lets your fingertips dance along the ridge of his nose, before you grab his face and pull, locking him into a kiss.

This one is different. Where the others have been full of sweetness, this one is needy. Hungry. Clearly, the process of removing his armor had a similar effect on you, because in the next few seconds he feels you whipping his shirt off, only disconnecting from his mouth for a moment before coming back to him, hands exploring his chest.

He felt big. Of course he was fucking huge, but having him half naked, feeling that broad chest under your palms, you almost forgot how giant he really was. It sent waves of need straight to your core, and you wasted little time tugging at the seams of his pants. If these were just as complicated as his armor was, you think you might collapse before he even-

In one pull, his pants go sliding off, and you feel how fast they drop under the weight of his armor. It makes a loud ‘clang’ as it hits the floor, and even though you can only think of what the sight in front of you must look like, you have to stifle a laugh at how easy it was to take them off.

“Easy access.” Din hums as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, bringing your attention back to him. He drags his teeth along the sensitive skin, and when you arch your back, you feel him. It’s impossible not to, the hard length pressing against your lower stomach, and it sends the butterflies already flying around in your stomach raving mad.

“Please, Din. I need you.” You hear him sigh at your words.

“You sound more perfect than I imagined.” You could feel how hot your face was, even your ears were burning. Before tonight, you could probably count the amount of words he had said on one hand. There was something about hearing him unfiltered, talking like that.

You let out a whimper at the words, and he starts to undo your jeans, finally taking the fucking hint.

“You like it when I talk like that? Tell you how sweet you sound saying my name?”

“Stars- yes. Please.” You shove your jeans down and step out of them, and Din leads you away from the pile of armor and clothes. You have lost all sense of direction, trusting him not to run you into anything. When he stops you, you feel yourself being pressed into an oddly shaped wall. A door? No - the rungs of the ladder leading up to the cockpit stripe against your bare back, and Din helps you sit up on one, taking the weight off your feet.

“Mesh’la, cyar’ika. Sit there and look pretty for me.” You were about to argue that he couldn’t see anything through the dark, but maybe his eyes were better adjusted. Maybe, from all his late nights spent hunting, he could see just a little bit better that you could in the dark. Maybe he truly couldn’t see you, and was just talking to indulge you, but the idea of him still being hidden, while he could see all of you made you start to fidget, almost whining at his lack of touch.

That was, until you heard him drop onto the floor, the wide stretch of his shoulders pushing your knees further apart, and his hands gently adjusting your calves to sit just above his collarbones.

Din could see. Years spent training to look for things no human would look for, scanning through shitty terrain and the helmet adjusting the light, his eyes had become just that much more in tune with the dark. So, while he couldn’t see every stunning curve of your hip, or the way your hair fell over your shoulders, he could see. He could see you, spread out in front of him, hands buried in his hair in anticipation, and it was too damn beautiful to deny.

“Mesh’la.” He repeats against the skin of your inner thigh, before sliding his hands up. He keeps kissing the trail his hands made, and slides his palms under either side of your panties, carefully placing them just outside of where he could see you were wanting him. “Is this okay?”

“I wanna feel you on me, Din. Please.” As much as his words sent you spinning, you knew you had that same effect on him. Din practically rips off your panties, and with a final mumble of incoherent Mando’a, he lets his tongue slide against your pussy, the first contact already having you moaning out his name.

“That’s it. Be as loud as you want. No one can hear you but me.” He never gives you rest, when he speaks he is methodical, making sure his hands keep that tortuous pace. Not so fast where you would tumble over the edge in seconds, although the way he lets his tongue work just around that sensitive bundle of nerves has you thinking he could make you finish in a moment's notice. He doesn’t, though; working you up in slow, gentle strokes that have you seeing more stars than you’ve ever seen in the galaxy.

One of his fingers slides inside of you, and you nearly jump off the ladder in pleasure.

“Oh- f-fuck Din faster.” You almost sob, the pace still so slow and grinding. He is seemingly lost in his own mind - soft vibrations sparking up your body as he hums in content against you. Occasionally, he will mumble a word or two, but they are lost in your own moans of pleasure.

Legs shaking, your hands start to pull a little harder against his scalp, and it surely hurts at least a little. Moving your hips against his face, you feel him smirk against your core, and the desperate movements of your body at least seem to encourage him. You feel like you’re in space - floating in no gravity as Din’s tongue flicks against your clit before he takes it into his mouth and he speeds up the movement of his hand all at once. It’s too much and not enough, and your thighs clamp down on either side of his head as your body is sent into overdrive.

His free arm snakes around the back of the ladder, holding you to him so you have nowhere to go, nothing else to do except exactly what he said - sit there and look pretty. You can’t hold your head up anymore, your body starting to tense as every nerve is set alight. You know it’s coming, but as he pushes you to the edge, the intensity of the incoming pleasure was nothing like you had ever felt.

“D-Dinnn shit I think I’m- oh fu-ck!” Everything lights up as he moans against you, the sensation the last thing you can recall as your body floods with the intensity of your orgasm. Your hands scrunch up in his hair, and you could swear your bones turn to jelly as the feeling racks through your entire being. No one in the galaxy has ever - could ever make you feel like this, but Din does. Din is.

It feels like hours and seconds pass at the same time, Dins mouth slowing its assault as he starts to press sweet kisses to any other expanse of skin he can reach in this position. He coaxes you through as your body reacts to the light touches, humming against your skin and smiling every time you suck in a sharp breath as he edges closer back to your center, before heading in another direction. The game brings your body back together, and fairly soon your fidgeting on the rung of the ladder, desperate to feel more of him against you, but unable to hold anything but his soft hair.

It really was soft.

You start to massage soothing circles into the top of his head as an apology for your tight grip, and he finally relents, tongue tracing a final line over your heated core.

“Jatisyc.” You hear him growl, voice gravelly as he stands. You can feel how tall he is, looming over you even if you can’t see him. You can feel it.

He helps you stand, your legs still shaking slightly, and he guides you over to a corner of the ship before a door opens. You don’t think you’ve been in this section of the ship before, and if you’ve ever spent more than twenty four hours here, you have just slept in a pile of blankets on the floor. He continues to guide you into the room, and the back of your legs hit a metal pole before he stops.

“Lie down.” He kisses your forehead before gently nudging you, and a surprised gasp leaves your mouth at the soft comforter underneath you. A bed. Small, you realize as you slide further back, knees bending to push yourself to the wall it rested on. Clearly made for one, you try to minimize the space you take up as two thick legs box you in on either side. His warmth covers your entire body as he drops his weight down, closing the space and reconnecting his mouth to your own. On instinct, you wrap your legs around his back, pulling his hips down towards the bed, and you can finally feel him against you. Only the thin layer of his briefs separate you but it’s too much - hands creeping down his body and tugging on the waistband, the sound of Din shuddering a breath in your mouth making you act faster. Tugging and shifting on the tiny mattress, you both try your best to stay as close as possible while removing the last layer of clothes.

“Baby - wait, hold on.” He starts to laugh, and the sound is the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard. He bends down, kicking the clothes to the side somewhere, still laughing at the weird angle you’ve both somehow tangled yourselves in. It’s almost strange - the sound is so unlike the hardened bounty hunter you had tried your best to get used to over the past few months, but it suits him. Hearing him like this, you have no idea how you will be able to stand having him tucked away in that helmet again. You decide, then, that he is taking way too long, and you are not close enough.

“Din.” He turns back to you, finally repositioning so he is between your legs. As he drags his mouth up the length of your body, he lays kisses on the skin open to him, which is all of it. All of you, laid out in the darkness of what must be his room. It smells like him, and with the lack of sight you can imagine he was all around you. His hair brushes against your chest, and your breath hitches in anticipation of him getting closer. “Please.”

“Just like in my dreams.” He mumbles. He doesn’t kiss you just yet. He just hovers, watching with a hunters focus as he lines himself up with you. He could feel how wet you were - like you were just waiting for him. Waiting for him, like he had been waiting for you. Your fingers run soft lines up and down his chest, and his hands fist in the sheets. Even here, at the edge of the most intimate act he could think of, he still wasn’t used to how you touched him.

As he slowly pushed himself into you, you both mimic the sound of ultimate relief. It was achingly slow, the rock of Din’s hips measured with control only he could execute, and before he had driven into you fully, you were already moaning out his name.

“Fuck, Din.” Everytime you say his name, he groans, similar to what you’ve heard when he’s fighting. Like it’s just on that border of pleasure that it’s almost painful, and with your hands bracing on his biceps, you can feel the tense in his shoulders. It’s an entire body experience, calling him by his name, and if that’s what gets him to move fast, you would chant it like a prayer.

“Th-shit. This is okay?” He says in that same low voice you recognise from the club. Practically clinging to him, you shake your head yes in the darkness, hoping to the Maker he doesn’t stop. His forehead is pressing into your own, soft lips dragging against yours as he bottoms out, driving up into a part of yourself you aren’t sure you knew you had.

You cry out, and it’s clearly what he was looking for, because he drags his length all the way out to the tip, and then enters you again, setting a mind numbing pace. You can hear the weak legs of the bed shifting against the hard floor of the ship as he fucks you, hard and slow.

“Fuck, cyar’ika. Feel so fucking good around me.” He gets a little rougher, losing himself in you, speaking through the small gaps of silence when you suck in a breath, only to continue calling out his name in pure ecstasy. There was no boy - no shitty fuck from the club that felt like this. It’s like you were on another planet - in another realm, the sounds he made as he grinded himself into you sending you hurtling in all directions.

“Holy shit-” You gasp, feeling one of his large hands trail down to rub small, tight circles on your clit. Your back arches, pressing your skin to his, and he’s like a heater in the cold of the ship, only making you seek him out more. “Oh-my Din.”

“Yours.” It takes you a second, your eyes screwed shut and your entire body only existing for him, but he says the simple word, and everything freezes. You had said it first. ‘My Din’. Maybe it was on accident, losing the rest of the sentence in the way he was fucking you into the mattress, but you know it wasn’t. Even half lidded, on the edge of your high, you knew it wasn’t a mistake. He wasn’t either.

Yours.

Your Din.

“Mine.” You tug his mouth back to you, teeth latching on to his bottom lip while your fingernails scratch along his toned back. He chokes out a sound just desperate enough to make known that he likes it, so you do it again. You know it’s leaving marks, and he does too. He picks up speed, chasing his own high and his free hand grips onto your hip tight enough to leave the shape of his hold in its wake. You mark him. He marks you.

Yours.

Mine.

“Din please, don’t fucking stop.” Your eyes were closed so tight it screws up your whole face, and even though he hasn’t told you not to look, you can’t bring yourself to throw his trust out the window. Even if your eyes did open, you wouldn’t see him through the dark, and you are pretty sure your eyes would be crossed and glazed over with the zaps of electric pleasure shooting up into your chest.

“Never gonna- shit. Never gonna stop.” Your body shivers in response, and you can feel the coil tightening in your lower stomach. “Gonna keep you on this ship forever. Fuck you every day.”

Maybe it’s the idea of it. Maybe it’s the realization that he could. If he wanted to. It’s mainly the realization that you want him to that snaps that tight coil and sends you all the way over the edge. You feel his hand leave your hip and curl around your back, holding your weight in one strong forearm, he keeps fucking you through your high, using it to reach his own. With a loud growl of your name he follows you, and you feel him pull out at the last second, warmth spreading across your inner thigh.

You were lost in the dark, unsure of where your body started and his ended. Limbs were tangled together, and you feel him sit back on his knees, heaving deep breaths and staring at you. It almost burns, the knowledge of his gaze. Of the sight he must be looking at - of you strung out, covered in the evidence of what he just did. Of what he just did to you. It’s almost enough to make you cum again, just to please him.

You feel him lean over, quickly grabbing whatever fabric was closest and wiping you clean, before proceeding to flop his entire body weight down next to you, and half on top of you. With an exhausted ‘oof’ he almost starfishes on the tiny bed, pulling your naked body underneath one of his outstretched arms. The weight of him makes it a little hard to breathe, but you sigh in relief as you feel his head nuzzling into the crook of your neck, kissing your shoulder and hair tickling your ear.

“Mesh’la.” He mumbles into your skin, and you turn as best you could, pulling his face to press against your own.

“What does that mean?” Your voice is hoarse, hardly above a whisper, and he kisses you before he answers.

“Beautiful.”

“Mesh’la.” You whisper back, and his head dives back into you, hiding himself even though you can’t see him. “So, will you?”

“Will I what?”

“Keep me on this ship forever?” He almost stops breathing - everything goes quiet, and he tries not to react as your hand traces along the small, hot lines you carved into his back. He feels - selfish, with you. He’s not entitled to, he knows he can’t give you anything. Life with him was nothing like you were used to, this night was the first time he had ever stepped foot in a nightclub, unlike you, who did this every day. He couldn’t be selfish with you, but there was a desperate part of him that wanted to be the bad guy. Wanted to say ‘yes’. Wanted to make you his.

“I d-”

“Too late to take it back now. Or are you scared you can’t handle it?” He can hear the shit-eatng grin you are sporting as you tease him, just like before, and he wants to retort, wants to play with you, but he can’t. His brain is fried, and all he can think about is you never leaving.

“Mine.” He whispers, not meaning to say it out loud. You don’t respond right away. Instead, your nose brushes against his, and he feels your short breath kissing his cheek.

He was wrong before - this is the most intimate thing he can imagine.

“Mine.” You say back, and there's not a hint of reservation.

Your breathing starts to slow, and your head drops to his shoulder as exhaustion takes over. He shuffles, cradling your body against his and grabbing the blanket from underneath the bed frame to toss it over you. It wasn’t big enough to cover you both, but the heat of your body next to his combined with his recurring thoughts of what just happened is enough to keep him warm well into the night.

There is too much to do - his bounty hunter brain starts kicking at his conscious mind. The target is escaping, getting further and further every second he spends staring at your sleeping body. He should get up, go off and track it, make good on his promise of getting you off this planet and let you run head first into the life you were meant for.

He doesn’t move. His hand, rough against your soft skin, rubs soothing lines over your arm, and you sigh happily in your sleep. He should do those things, but he won’t. Because of you.

You said he was yours - and hell if he wouldn’t listen.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian smut #mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x y/n #mandalorian x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars tv

3K notes · View notes

d3adlyromb3ar · 10 days

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ these roses have thorns

— pairing. megumi fushiguro x fem!reader

— synopsis. he hated you. you hated him. it was simple really, all those years of competing to be the best had only driven you two as each others biggest rivals. time passes as it’s been years since you’ve seen each other. suddenly, you both reconnect and wonder why you hated each other to begin with.

— word count. 3.2k

— contents. enemies to friends, (lovers implied), language, angst, fluff, minor injuries, minor family issues, indications of bullying, megumi is such a dork

— notes. credit to @saradika for the dividers 🤍

main masterlist

“You’re so incredibly irritating.”

Megumi rested his forehead against his palm, trying his hardest to block out your high pitched squealing voice.

“Do you think I wanted to be paired up with you? Nope. Not at all. If it were up to me, I’d drop out of this class altogether!”

Your voice strained his ears, his temples aching with the sensation of an oncoming headache.

“Can you just stop talking.” He mumbled.

“No actually. If me talking pains you so much, I’ll keep doing it.” You sassed, crossing your arms.

“God, I can’t stand you.”

He huffed and stood suddenly, not giving you another glance and marching his way towards the classroom.

“Where are you going?”

“To find our teacher. Gonna ask him if I can do this project on my own.”

You rolled your eyes but stayed silent. You could feel your cheeks red, you wondered if people could see smoke coming out of your ears from how infuriated you were.

Megumi stopped in his tracks, turning around when he didn’t hear your snarky reply. Truthfully, he was waiting for it and was shocked when it never came. He furrowed his brows at the sight of you pouting, rooted in your same spot.

“What? Don’t seem so upset, I’ll be doing you a favor.” He said, indicating that you’d appreciate his gesture. No longer cursed with his presence.

He never quite understood why you hated him so much. All he knew was that you were competitive, and so was he. At least when it came to you, he wanted to be better than you at all things. Your reactions becoming his favorite thing when he outsmarted you.

“Whatever.” You mumbled, turning away from him and stomping off the school grounds.

Megumi oddly decided not to meet with the teacher, choosing to tough it out— and do this project with you. It would be too much of a hassle to explain to the teacher why he wanted to work alone.

Days later, you and Megumi were sat underneath a tree within the schools courtyard. He was leaning back against the base of the bark, while you were focused on your notes in front of you.

Your harsh erasing on your notepad had Megumi glancing over to you. He had to bite his tongue when you swiped the shavings in his direction, some of which landed on his uniform pants.

“Okay lemme check this again…” You muttered quietly to yourself, flipping through a textbook in a haste.

He just watched, holding back a laugh at how ridiculous you looked. So panicked and stressed for absolutely no reason— he assumed you were working so hard only to prove you were doing more than him for the project.

Which truthfully, you were. But he had an idea for later.

A frustrated sigh from you grabbed his attention, breaking him from his thoughts. His eyes suddenly focusing on your tongue wedged between your lips, the way it was poking out as you scribbled notes.

“Y’know, you can poke a hole through the paper if you write hard enough.”

“At least I’m working on the project.” You shot back.

He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward and snatching the notepad out of your hands— causing you to gasp.

“Hey! Give it back!”

“What’s all this nonsense anyway— we won’t be needing any of this information. Wasting your tim—”

“I said give it!” You said through clenched teeth, reaching for the notepad, only for him to hold it farther out of your reach.

“I mean, are you even reading out of the right textbook?” He questioned, trying to make you feel incompetent.

You clenched your jaw, your cheeks rising in heat once again.

“If you don’t give it back, I’m going to—”

“Oh you’re threatening me now? How adorable.”

You pressed your lips together tight, the comment both annoying and flustering you. You decided to ignore him and the fluttering in your stomach— pulling out another notepad from your backpack and flipping to a fresh page.

Megumi watched in fascination as you started rewriting all your notes you had previously written. He chuckled, earning a shake of your head. Clearly over his antics.

“God, you’re so stubborn. Doesn’t it hurt your head?”

“Shut up. Let me work.” You snapped, not lifting your gaze from your notes.

He chuckled again, your reactions only spurring him on.

“Are you even a real person?”

This had you snapping your head up, giving him a bitchy look. Although, Megumi wasn’t phased— he held your glare with pleasure.

“Are you? I swear, sometimes it feels like you’ve been sent to this planet just to make my life a living hell.” You hissed.

“Yeah, you wish you were that special.” He mumbled.

You held his satisfied expression for a few more seconds before breaking the stare, focusing back on your work.

“Let me work, please.” Your voice was quieter than before.

“Aww, did I hurt your feelings?”

“No, now please— let me fucking work!” You raised your voice, your grip on your pencil extremely tight.

He chuckled before letting himself go silent, oddly enough— he let you finish the days work in peace. He’d have to hold himself back from talking every time he caught you sticking your tongue out in concentration. He’d have to force himself to look away every time you brought the eraser end of the pencil up to your lips, letting the pink end rub over your mouth.

It was funny, he suddenly realized. Your presence was wasn’t totally awful when you were quiet.

Another day had passed, and the due date of the project was finally here. It was hilarious how he hadn’t done much of anything to the project— not that you’d let him. It wasn’t just the day of the project turn in date, it was also the day of his mischievous plan.

It was the end of class, Megumi sat silent in his spot as the teacher said his final words to his students. The bell rung and before you could level move an inch from your desk, the teacher was calling your name.

“(Y/n) (L/n), please see me after the room is cleared.” He told you.

You nodded but couldn’t help the confusion wash over your features. Immediately thinking of why he’d want to pull you to the side. Had you done something wrong? Certainly not.

Megumi met your gaze one last time, his eyes locking with yours. You glared at him, noticing the way he had a smug look on his face. Before you could change your expression, he had turned and left throughout the doorway.

Slowly, you made your way up to the teachers desk.

“You wanted to speak with me?” You asked politely, maybe a little nervously.

“Yes. It’s been brought to my attention that there were some issues with your project.” He informed you.

You wondered what possibly could’ve been wrong, the teacher had already told you and Megumi that it was the best of the grade.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“Miss (L/n), I’m very disappointed in you. You are one of my brightest students, and for you to deliberately make your classmate Megumi do the whole project himself— well it saddens me.”

Your teachers words had your eyes wide, your mouth hanging open in shock. He didn’t. He wouldn’t. Megumi wouldn’t have gone this far, would he have?

“Mr… I… Listen there is a misunderstan—”

“I don’t need to hear your excuses. Just know that you will be taking a zero for this assignment.”

“But you don’t understand… I did the pro—”

“Lying to me isn’t helping your case Miss (L/n). I just want this to be a learning lesson for you. Megumi was quite upset about this whole ordeal, and I expect you to respect your classmates better from now on.” He finished, standing up and leaving the classroom.

You were left standing in front of his desk still, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Your chest ached at how hard you were breathing, the rage you felt threatening to burst.

You left the classroom, cheeks red and hot. If there was any moment in time where smoke would be bursting out your ears— it would be now.

Just as your foot passed the doorway, you heard an all too familiar laugh. One that had your breathing rising, fastening in pace.

You turn towards the dark haired boy, walking quickly up to his smug face.

“You’re such a dick! I can’t believe you would go this far!” You yelled.

He crossed his arms, his form calmly leaned back against the lockers.

“Just following through with my mission to make your life a living hell.” He repeated from a previous conversation.

You stared at him with disgust.

“Are you really that fucking upset over what I said?”

“I’m not upset about shit. You just need to know who’s always going to have the last laugh. Who’s always going to be on top— because it won’t be you.” He stated.

“I know you hate my guts, but making me take a zero for this project? That’s too far, you don’t get to interfere with my schoolwork. I work too damn hard for you to mess it up!” You defended.

He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but feel bad. He didn’t realize the teacher was going to give you a zero. He assumed a little scolding at least. He realized that maybe he’d taken it too far.

“Y’know what, you win.”

Megumi looked at you with confusion at your admittance.

“You’re better than me at everything. You’re the high and mighty one and I’m just a piece of shit. I get it, I do. Now please do me one fucking favor— and leave me alone.” You pleaded, your voice quiet at the end, thick with emotion.

Megumi couldn’t say anything in the moment, and instead watched you walk away— your head down. He did all this for a quick laugh, to see your reaction and all— so why did he feel terrible instead. It was never supposed to end up this way.

Perhaps he had taken it too far, and now he was afraid that there’d be no fixing this. That theory was confirmed the second he heard that you had transferred schools the next week.

God, he really fucked up. Now he had no way to resolve or fix anything. Now more than ever, he felt the extremely strong urge to tell you he was sorry. He realized all too quickly— he wouldn’t get the chance to.

A few years had passed, and a lot had changed.

Standing in front of the Jujutsu School now— it didn’t quite feel real. You had to force yourself to truly believe that this is where you ended up.

Remembering back, you recalled the exact moment where your life had shifted— from something so simple to chaos.

It happened days after the whole ordeal with Megumi and the project. The rage that had consumed you since that moment had been building. The last week at school was forgotten— you couldn’t recall a thing any of the teachers had said that day.

It was the saturday after your last week. You had been trying to relax at home, make yourself something to eat when you accidentally burned your finger on the stove. Almost like a trigger, the rage that had been built up inside of you tripled— your body not feeling like your own.

Before you fully feel the pain of the burn— your whole house was suddenly in flames. Within minutes your house was simply gone— vanishing from where it was previously rooted.

Your parents had been furious, but they weren’t surprised— not even a little. A long talk later, and you discovered that you were adopted, the two people you lived with forever not even your own Mom and Dad. They told you with heavy hearts that you were born from a clan— one from a history of sorcerers.

You didn’t believe them at first, but after what had just happened— what you had caused. You had no choice but accept the truth.

Your parents assured you not to be upset with yourself for destroying the house, informing you that this was just a placeholder while you were in school. It didn’t push the guilt away that you had done such destruction, and you felt out of control with these abilities you didn’t even know you possessed.

Your parents let you decide your path, and you chose to leave home. Leaving to somewhere that could help you with your abilities, one that would help you understand who you were.

So no, Megumi wasn’t the reason why you transferred. But of course, how would he ever know that fact.

With hesitant steps, you walked further into the school grounds— taking in the beauty of the buildings. The environment felt peaceful and inviting— and most importantly you felt like you finally belonged somewhere.

“(Y/n)?” A deep voice called from behind you.

You got lost in thought before you turned around, the voice sounding so familiar, yet so foreign.

“(Y/n) (L/n)?” The voice called out again, this time around sounding more unsure.

You turned around finally, your heart nearly stopping at the sight of him. There before you stood none other than Megumi Fushiguro.

You realized you hadn’t said anything since he got your attention. You snapped yourself out of your shock and sent him a warm smile, one that undoubtedly had a flash of nervousness in it.

“Megumi, hi. It’s been… It’s been awhile.” You greeted, scratching your arm anxiously.

It was Megumi’s turn to be shocked, he hadn’t seen you in years and yet the person standing in front of him was undoubtedly you, but not you at the same time.

Everything from your features and your height was different, but it’s not what had him so shocked. It was your voice that silenced him completely. It was so— gentle.

It was a miracle he even recognized you at all.

“I’m guessing from your silence that you still don’t like me.” You said in a small voice, laughing awkwardly at the end.

Megumi was snapped out of his shock instantly from the sound of your hurt voice.

“No, no I uh… I am just surprised to see you here.” He explained, “Um, why are you here?”

You didn’t have time to dwell on the fact that he was speaking to you much more softer than ever— it was odd.

You scratched your arm nervously, the same neutral smile on your face.

“I’m going to school here.” You revealed, feeling anxious about what his thoughts were on that. “That’s okay with you, right?”

He nodded. Otherwise his thoughts ran around with the possibility that you were a sorcerer too? How did he never recognize that. Were there signs? How did he miss them?

“Why would it matter what I think?”

You shrugged, the conversation feeling too awkward. There was so much unnecessary tension— you blamed it on the past.

Since you had thought about it, you found yourself walking a couple steps closer to him. It was then you could finally get a closer look at him. His hair had grown longer, more hectic. He’d certainly grown into his face, his jawline was sharp. It was his eyes that captured you— they were so mesmerizing. The way his eyelashes were so long and caged his eyes.

You cleared your throat, getting back on track.

“Listen, about what all happened in the past—”

But you couldn’t finish your sentence, as Megumi cut in.

“I don’t need you to do that, really. If anyone here should be apologizing— it should be me.”

His words shocked you, and you found yourself unable to respond right away. He sensed that and kept going.

“I know it might not make a difference after all these years but, I’m sorry I was such a dick. I’m sorry for always messing with you— and I’m sorry for the whole project thing.” He finished.

You couldn’t help but feel some sort of healing within you from those words. It wasn’t often you’d dwell on him, but you always wondered where his hate for you came from. Maybe it was just an odd occurrence.

“I accept your apology. Thank you.”

Megumi sent a weak smile then, feeling some weight lift off his shoulders. But not all of it.

“And don’t feel too bad about this whole thing, I wasn’t so innocent either. I shouldn’t have messed with you either— I know I was quite annoying. If anything, I probably deserved it.”

Megumi smirked, his shoulders jumping with a silent laugh. He didn’t want to seem rude but he also couldn’t help himself from asking.

“Sorry to change the subject but, how are you a sorcerer? I never got the idea that you were one.”

You ended up walking towards the school stairs, taking a seat and watching as Megumi followed and plopped down next to you— closer than you predicted.

“It’s a long story. Turns out I was adopted and my adoptive parents told me I was from a sorcerer clan.” You ran through the long story, “It’s a pretty boring story.”

He nodded, listening intently to your story. He was intrigued with you— and he wondered if that was the reason he always felt this pull around you.

“What about you? I didn’t know you were a sorcerer. You don’t seem the type.” You joked at the end.

He chuckled, and scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I’ve pretty much known my whole life. Guess I’m good at keeping secrets.”

You hummed, clearly he was right. You didn’t suspect a thing.

“Good to know.”

Despite apologies being traded, small talk being had— there was obvious tension still thick in the air. Neither of you could pinpoint why.

“Well I should um… I should probably get settled in and everything.” You suggested, standing up to head out.

Megumi surprised you yet again when his hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist— halting you in your spot. But it was a gentle touch, one that didn’t seem like him.

“Uh (Y/n)?”

“Yes Megumi?”

He bit his lip, the back of his neck hot with what he wanted to say.

“Just wanted to say that you look good.”

He really couldn’t believe he just said that, after all those years are being a complete dickhead— and suddenly he thinks a couple words of sweet talk would bail him out of the mess. What was he thinking.

Except you were flattered and felt your cheeks heating up, but this time is was from nerves.

“Thank you Megumi, you look good too. Very handsome.”

Megumi’s cheeks suddenly became rosy, the back of his neck burning up. He wasn’t expecting you to say it back, but with how you were looking at him— he knew it was genuine.

“Thanks.”

You smiled at him, your chest warm with a foreign sensation— but you welcomed it.

“After I unpack my things, would you mind showing me around?”

Megumi sent a small smile back, scratching the back of his neck yet again. You never made him this nervous, but your voice also never sounded so smooth, so gentle before.

“Sure.”

With that, you walked away— feeling a little more chipper in your step.

The two of you were left alone in your thoughts as you both went your separate ways. Both of you were thinking of lots, but the one thought that ran through both of your minds was— why did we even hate each other to begin with?

— ending notes. thought of this randomly one night and started writing 😅 not proofread so ignore spelling mistakes 🤍

131 notes · View notes

sluttywonwoo · 7 months

Text

instead of you [part thirty] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of menstruation, pain, smut (mdni)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

additional smut warnings: face sitting, protected sex, multiple orgasms

That night, Jisung took you to a pharmacy that was right by the resort. It was within walking distance but since you had a bad foot, you took a cab. He tipped the driver extra to leave the meter running and stay parked outside while you ran in together to grab what you needed, and then tipped him again when you made it back to the hotel since the whole journey was more of an inconvenience than an actual ride.

After taking a shower, you soaked your foot like Amir had instructed you to and then fell asleep almost immediately. Surfing had completely sapped you of all of your energy, even without the whole sea urchin incident.

Everything hurt when you woke up. It felt similar to the morning after having sex with Minho for the first time but ten times worse. You groaned as you rolled over, the sound splintering off into a whimper when you tried sitting up.

“Quiet, they’re going to think we’re messing around in here,” Jisung said, shushing you. You’d woken him up with your noises.

“Can’t help it,” you grumbled back.

“Sore?” he asked.

“Incredibly.”

“It’s brutal after your first time.”

“I’ve gathered that.”

“I’ll grab you some ibuprofen and a glass of water.”

“Thank you.”

The morning was spent lazily. Jisung made breakfast for everyone and you all ate together in the kitchen, listening to Dom explain the concept of the new book he was writing. You couldn’t really follow the plot but you still nodded along like you did and let the boys do all of the question asking.

After breakfast, everyone got ready for the day and met in the lobby where you were picked up by a cab and taken to a marina. Jisung had told you that you would be snorkeling most of the day, but you hadn’t expected it to be deep sea snorkeling. The idea was a bit daunting but it turned out that it wasn’t actually as deep as the name suggested. The water was clear enough to see everything and the ocean floor was only about thirty feet below you.

The captain of the boat you’d taken out to this spot had assured you that the area was shallow and full of marine life.

“We just like to take visitors out here because it’s less busy than right by the shore,” he said.

Obviously, the man knew what he was talking about. The snorkeling was one of the highlights of the entire trip thus far for you. You had never seen so many fish in one place before, or coral for that matter. Everything was so vibrant that it felt right out of a page of NatGeo. It was nice just to be able to relax and let the water carry your body weight as you floated on the surface, especially since you were still so sore. You barely had to move at all. It was so peaceful that you almost fell asleep in the water.

The only thing that startled you out of your half-asleep daze was Minho purposefully splashing you as he swam past you.

You broke the news of your newfound dedication to celibacy to him once you got back to the resort that night. You’d stayed up to finish a movie with him after everyone else had gone to sleep and he’d invited you back to his room as soon as the credits rolled.

“I just can’t keep going behind Jisung’s back,” you explained.

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me,” he replied. You could tell he was disappointed but was trying not to let it show. You were disappointed too. You’d only slept with him twice but it was some of the best sex of your fucking life and you didn’t want to just throw that away. “Any reason to want to stop is reason enough, and it’s not my business,” he added.

“It kind of is, though,” you reasoned with a sigh. He just shrugged. “I just thought you deserved to know.”

“Thanks for being honest.” He stood from the couch unceremoniously and turned back to you. “Uh, goodnight, I guess.”

You didn’t respond right away, taking a moment to admire the way the light from the television illuminated his features.

“Goodnight, Minho.”

You cringed inwardly at how weak you sounded, forcing a polite smile. The second his back was turned you started rethinking everything. Were you really going to let him just walk away?

“Wait-” you called out after him. “One more time couldn’t hurt, right?”

Your back hit the mattress as soon as the door shut behind you, Minho having pushed you onto his bed at the same time. You bounced a little, giggling as he jumped on top of you. He moved his way up your body until he was able to kiss you, sliding a hand under your head to lift you up to him. You kissed him back eagerly, slipping your tongue into his mouth as soon as the chance presented itself. Minho moaned quietly and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

“We have to be quiet,” he reminded you after breaking away from the kiss. “Felix is right next door.”

You nodded. “I can be quiet.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that?”

“Mhm, you’ll just have to find something to keep my mouth busy.”

“Fuck.”

He began undressing you slowly, taking his time with you like you knew he liked to do. You were already in your pajamas so everything came off easily. Your t-shirt, your stolen boxer shorts that Minho had probably once thought to be his brother’s, your panties. You were lying naked underneath him in no time.

“I’m off my period, by the way,” you added.

“You know I don’t care about that.”

“Yeah, but I thought you’d want to know… just in case.”

He narrowed his eyes, not following. “Just in case… of what?”

You sighed and flung your arms to the side dramatically. “Oh my god, are you really going to make me spell it out for you?”

“Spell out what?” he hissed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I already told you I don’t care about whether you’re on your period or not.”

“Okay, but there are certain things you can’t do on your period.”

“Like what?”

You rolled your eyes. He really was hopeless. At this point, you weren’t sure if he was actually oblivious or being obtuse on purpose. You had been under the impression that Minho liked eating pussy but maybe he had just been pretending to enjoy it for your benefit.

“Do you want to go down on me or not?”

His eyes widened in realization and he nodded eagerly. “Oh, you should’ve just said that.”

“I was trying to!”

“You kept skirting around it!” he argued.

“I didn’t want to say it outright…” you trailed off.

“Why? Are you embarrassed?” He was teasing you and you knew it.

“A little,” you admitted. “I’m not used to asking for what I want.”

He smirked, leaning down to kiss you on the mouth as he answered. “Well, you’d better get used to it.”

You were tempted to tell him it was pointless since this was the last time you were going to sleep together but you didn’t want to bring the mood down so you just nodded into the kiss and tried your best to forget about the depressing reality.

He broke away again, this time to take off his own clothes. You watched him pull his shirt over his head, bottom lip between your teeth as your gaze trailed the defined lines of his body.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you whispered, allowing yourself to reach out and touch him. Your fingers followed the same path as your eyes had and Minho shivered beneath your touch. You expected him to quip back with something smart, something to defuse the sincerity in your voice, but he didn’t. Instead, he pushed his hips forward so that he could grind against you.

A moan caught in your throat and you arched your back, meeting him halfway. The fabric felt good on your clit and the motion of his hips created the friction you had been searching for but you were worried about staining the material. You were already turned on, and your arousal was only building as Minho kissed his way down your neck. You would be mortified if there was a noticeable wet spot on the front of his pants when he pulled away.

For Minho, though, that seemed to be the last thing on his mind. His hands roamed your body like he was trying to memorize each and every curve, like he was an artist, committing your figure to memory so that he could sketch it in graphite once you left his bed.

“Did you want me to?” he asked suddenly.

“Want you to what?”

“Eat you out?”

You shifted a bit on the bed, shy all of the sudden. “Um, only if you want to.”

“Of course I want to, but I wanted to make sure you wanted me to.”

“I don’t know any girl who would turn that down,” you said, half chuckling, then rushed to add, “well there are some people who don’t like it, or prefer other things over it, you know? Or can’t enjoy it because they’re insecure and I mean, I’m not one of those people but-”

“Baby,” Minho cut you off. “A simple yes or no is all I need.”

“Yes. Please.”

Minho grinned and leaned back in to kiss you. “You’re cute.”

You didn’t have it in you to argue so you just pouted as you accepted the kiss. Minho groaned into your mouth, hands coming down to cup your breasts. His thumbs ran over your nipples making you gasp. You got lost in each other for a moment, original goal forgotten until Minho began kissing his way down your neck. He replaced one of the hands on your boobs with his mouth, tongue laving over your nipple just like it would your clit.

You didn’t want to rush him but you were also beginning to feel desperate so you brought a hand to his hair, running your fingers through it before pushing down lightly, trying to signal what you needed. The salt water had left his hair more tousled than usual, leaving it just long enough to fall into his eyes. Even after a shower, it was more wavy than anything. You thought it suited him. Then again, you thought everything suited him.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before Minho finally spoke.

“Want you to sit on my face,” he mumbled against your skin. “Please?”

You sat up a bit, unsure you’d heard him correctly. “Are you serious?”

“Are you going to make me beg?” he asked, not answering the question.

“No, I just… no one’s ever asked me to do that before.”

Minho seemed surprised, likely due to his knowledge of your sexual experience. “Really?”

You nodded. “The guys I usually go for aren’t very-”

“Good in bed?” he supplied.

“Well, yeah. And I’m usually the one asking the girls, so…”

A smirk passed over his face briefly as he processed the information before his expression fell into one of concern again. “Don’t feel like you have to do it just because I want to.”

“No, I know. I’m just a little nervous, I guess.”

“We can stop whenever you want. Just let me know.”

You shook your head and exhaled. “Okay. How should I…”

Minho rolled off of you and onto his back so that you could position yourself on top of him. He helped you straddle his face, big hands rubbing soothing circles on each of your thighs.

“Just so you know, my entire body still feels like jelly from surfing so you’re going to have to do all of the work.”

“I can do that.”

“Are you sure?”

Minho scoffed as if he was offended you’d even ask. “Positive. Do you think I’m weak?”

“N-no! I just-”

“I’ve got you, okay?”

You gulped. “Okay.”

“And that means don’t hover. When I say sit on my face I mean sit. You won’t crush me, if that’s what you’re scared of.”

It was like he could read your mind.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yes,” you whispered in response.

He coaxed you into lowering yourself little by little until you were close enough for him to taste. You balanced your weight on your knees, still not confident enough to fully rest on him despite his words.

But Minho ended up getting his way in the end because as soon as his tongue touched your pussy, you were suddenly unable to hold yourself upright. You were barely two seconds in and your legs gave out on you, just like you predicted. You weren’t sure why you even tried to ‘hover’ in the first place.

You tried to soften the fall by throwing yourself forward so that at least the top half of your body weight wouldn’t come crashing down on his face but he caught you before your hands hit the mattress and pulled you back on top of him.

“I said not to hover.” It was muffled but you could still make it out.

After that, it was a blur. You couldn’t even worry about whether or not you were suffocating Minho. All you could think about was how fucking good his mouth felt on your cunt.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” you whimpered, still trying to keep your voice down.

Minho could only hum in affirmation but you were sure he would’ve had a thousand cocky lines on the tip of his tongue had the tip of his tongue not been inside of you.

You came hard with a quiet yelp of his name, thighs clenching around his head. He helped you through your orgasm as always, trying to make it as long as possible by encouraging you to ride his face.

You collapsed on the bed as soon as the aftershocks ebbed away, clutching your chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” Minho complimented.

“It… was… hot for me… too.”

He chuckled lightheartedly and reached for his crumpled t-shirt that he’d set against one of the pillows, using it to wipe his mouth and chin before dropping it on the floor. You made a face and he just shrugged, same stupid grin on his face.

“I’m going to wash it.”

You sighed. “I know, just…”

“Figured you wouldn’t want me dripping when I kissed you.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed and rolled your eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I? I think the stain on my pants would say otherwise.”

You didn’t even have time to be mortified because Minho was pressing his lips to yours, effectively erasing whatever you had been about to say from your mind. It was exactly what you’d been afraid of happening but he didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed to be even more aroused by it. You could feel how hard he was through his sweats as he rocked his hips against yours, all because of you.

“Don’t be embarrassed about it,” he murmured.

“How did you-”

“Because I know you. And I know you overthink everything. But I think it’s hot, I promise.”

You whined in response, not used to hearing sweet words in bed. His eyes softened as he gazed at you. They were still dark with lust but you could see flecks of fondness peeking through the desire. It made you remember what he said the first time you hooked up.

Who the fuck ever told you to apologize for being turned on?

“I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it,” he added with a peck to your nose. “Are you good to keep going?”

You nodded. “Yes, please. Need you.”

“I can tell.”

He was back to teasing you like nothing had happened which was oddly more comfortable. The sincerity of his words had scared you a little, reignited feelings you’d rather not address. It was already hard enough to repress them in intimate moments like these. The thought of Minho actually caring about you was more than you could handle.

“Let me grab a condom,” he mumbled, leaning towards the dresser.

He rifled through the top drawer for one and then shimmied out of his pants and underwear. You laid there motionless as you waited for him to roll one on, still a little out of it from cumming so hard the first time.

“You’re really going to have to do all of the work this time,” you told him. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Not a problem,” he replied with a wink. “Do you want my fingers first?”

You considered it for a second. You did love his fingers but it was getting late and you both needed to get up relatively early in the morning. And you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t getting impatient for his dick.

“No, just go slow.”

“I’ll go as slow as you need me to.”

You winced as he pushed himself inside of you, hissing through your teeth at the stretch. It wasn’t bad, just a bit overwhelming, but Minho took your reaction as one of pain.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry,” he grunted. “Should I stop?”

You shook your head. “Keep going.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please keep going.”

He brought one of his hands down to where you were connected and began to rub your clit with his thumb to distract you from the slight discomfort. Soon, all of the feelings bled into pleasure, indistinguishable from each other, and you started pushing your hips up, weakly fucking yourself on Minho’s cock.

“Needy all of the sudden, aren’t we?” he mused.

“Always needy for you,” you moaned back.

You swore you could feel him twitching inside of you as he cursed. “Want me to move?”

“Please…”

He matched your pace in no time, fully taking over for you just like you’d wanted him to. He kept one hand on the headboard, half to keep his balance, half to keep it from banging against the wall. The other hand had moved from your clit to your face, where he was stroking your cheek with his thumb.

It was different than the other times you’d slept together. He was fucking you slow and deep, each thrust making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Fuck, how are you always so tight?” he asked.

You were too fucked out to answer. He didn’t seem to mind.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before he stopped suddenly, telling you to hold on for just as a second as he grabbed a pillow from behind you.

“Does that actually work?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows so that he could position it under your lower back.

“I’ve read great reviews.” He ignored the way you rolled your eyes. “Lay back down. How’s that?” He gave an experimental thrust, smiling cockily when your jaw went slack and your mouth fell open.

The change in angle allowed the head of his cock to rest against your g-spot, meaning whenever he moved he was hitting it dead-on. every. time.

“Minho, fuck!” you cried.

“Baby,” he warned.

You moaned again and he immediately shushed you. “What did I say about being quiet?” he growled.

“I t-told you that you’d have to figure out a way to make me,” you choked out.

Minho must have taken that as a challenge because as soon as you got the words out he was shoving two fingers into your mouth, making you suck on them. You moaned around them.

“That’s it, darling. Better?”

You nodded to the best of your ability. You wanted to tell Minho how hot he looked, how good he made you feel, how close you were to cumming but you couldn’t do any of that. To be fair, you doubted you’d be able to string a sentence together even if his fingers weren’t in your mouth.

“‘M close,” he admitted, sounding a little embarrassed. You weren’t sure why. He’d lasted a lot longer than a lot of your other partners. If anything it was impressive.

You tried mumbling out a me too but it was difficult with your mouth full. He seemed to get the idea, though and motioned for you to rub your clit to help you get there.

Minho came first, muffling a shout by biting your shoulder. You wished you could see his face, he was always so pretty when he came, but the sting from the bite was enough to throw you into your own orgasm.

Afterward, when you had both stopped trembling and regained enough muscle strength to move, Minho helped you get redressed. He instructed you to raise your arms above your head so that he could pull your shirt back on, laughing with you when your head got stuck.

You found yourself wishing that you could spend the night with him. It would be so nice to be able to fall asleep in his arms, to wake up next to him. You knew you couldn’t. It was just wishful thinking. You weren’t even sure if he wanted the same thing. You had always assumed that this was just sex to him, but his behavior towards you had made you start to think otherwise.

“You should shower,” Minho said softly, breaking the silence. He was suddenly unable to meet your gaze and you didn’t want to think about what that meant. “Got you all sweaty.”

“What about you?” you asked.

“I’ll go after you. We probably shouldn’t…” he trailed off. “Not that I don’t want to-”

“No, I get it,” you said. “Goodnight, Minho.”

i'm on my laptop tn so no taglist but pls lmk what you think I always appreciate feedback!!

add yourself to my taglist here!

#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x female reader #lee know x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #lee know series #stray kids series

328 notes · View notes