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theostrophywife · 2 years

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middle of the night.

masterlist (azriel x reader) author's note: inspired by middle of the night by loveless. i'm pretty sure i blacked out 90% of the time i spent writing this so please enjoy. warning: smut. smut. and more smut. i can't warn you all enough. summary: when you're forced to share a room with the shadowsinger at the moonstone palace, sleep is the last thing on either one of your minds.

“Do I have to share a room with her?””

The shadowsinger crosses his arms and frowns, the permanent scowl etched on his face setting in even deeper while he glares at you from across the room. You roll your eyes in response, leaning against the pale stone wall for support while removing the death traps strapped to your feet. You had half a mind to take a page out of your High Lady’s book and chuck the heels directly at Azriel’s head.

“Oh relax, shadowsinger. This wicked witch has no plans of tainting your innocence in the middle of the night.”

Beside you, Cassian tried and failed to suppress a snort. Azriel shot his brother a withering glare, which the Illyrian general returns with an apologetic smile. While you weren’t exactly keen on sharing a room with the shadowsinger either, his reluctance and aversion made it that much more enticing. Besides, it wasn’t like you had a choice. With Keir renovating the Moonstone Palace, you and your friends were all required to double up. The mates would obviously share, leaving your options between Azriel, Mor, and Amren.

You assumed that Mor would room with you, but the blonde picked Amren in a swift act of betrayal and winked as she left you to deal with the shadowsinger. Traitor.

“I’m sure you two can manage to get along for one night,” Rhys says with exasperation, weary from the earlier festivities.

Visiting the Court of Nightmares was always an ordeal and tonight was no exception. Eris had been invited to the All Hallows Eve ball and the High Lord had tasked you with obtaining information about his dealings with Keir. With the help of a tight fitting dress and a few flirtatious smiles, Beron’s heir was nothing but putty in your hands by the end of the night.

Not only had he divulged his plans of opening trade between your courts, but Eris also inquired about your diplomatic ties to the west, which told you that the Autumn Court intended on extending business to the Continent. It was an overall successful mission and all you really had to do was bat your eyelashes and dance with the handsome lordling.

Still, those waltzes had really done a number on your feet and you were ready to collapse into the nearest available bed, shadowsinger be damned.

“Will you please just stop being a giant Illyrian baby and do as we’re told so I can finally get some godsdamned rest?”

Azriel huffs in annoyance and stalks away in the direction of what you assumed would be your shared quarters. Dangling your heels in one hand and the heavy skirts of your dress in the other, you bid Rhys and Cassian good night before following after the Illyrian warrior.

“Try not to kill each other,” Rhys calls over his shoulder.

“No promises, Rhys.”

The High Lord mutters a prayer under his breath as he and Cassian head towards the opposite side of the palace. With a sigh, you push open the door that Azriel had disappeared into. To your annoyance, you found him sprawled out on the bed with his hands behind his head.

“Absolutely not,” you say, stalking into the room and discarding your shoes onto the wooden floor. “You’re not getting the bed.”

He sneers, sitting upright to face you. “Can you at least attempt not to make a mess everywhere you go?” Azriel strides over to the door and deposits your shoes by the wooden dresser where his boots were currently neatly perched. Peculiar male.

His dark head perks up as he stands to his full height, towering a good foot over you. “And I am absolutely claiming the bed. First come, first serve.”

You snort. “Yeah, I’m sure you know all about coming first.” Striding over to the ornate vanity by the window, you settle into the wooden chair and began pulling out the jewels pinned to your curls.

Azriel rolls his eyes. “Do you have to be so crude?”

The crimson slash of your smile is nothing but predatory as you shake your unbound hair over your shoulder. “My apologies to your virginal ears,” you retort with dripping sarcasm.

The Illyrian warrior sighs as though the fate of the realm rests solely on his shoulders. Nothing in the entirety of Prythian irritated you more, but that was just the nature of your relationship with the shadowsinger. To say that you and Azriel didn’t get along was a massive understatement. Pairing you two together was like dropping a lit match onto a field soaked with gasoline. Someone was bound to get burned.

“I meant what I said about our sleeping arrangements,” you announce, meeting Azriel’s gaze in the mirror. “I will get that bed one way or another. I didn’t endure a night of blisters just to sleep on the floor.”

Azriel scoffs. “You weren’t complaining when you were on the dance floor with Eris earlier.”

You made a show of gathering the jewels into a neat pile while glaring at him. “Well, I’d be pretty shit at my job if I were. At least the Autumn lordling made it worth my while.”

“Clearly, you have no problem fraternizing with the enemy.”

A surge of magic crackles through your fingertips. It wasn’t like you enjoyed flirting with Eris. Sure, the male was handsome and charming, but you took your job seriously and you didn’t appreciate Azriel questioning your motives. You knew that playing the political game at hand was necessary to keep the Night Court safe.

“I haven’t forgotten who Eris is for one second, but unlike you, I’m able to control my emotions so I can gather intel for the good of this court.” You rose to standing and though you barely reached Azriel’s shoulders, you didn’t balk from his intense stare. “Would you rather have me maim our honored guest?”

“It sure as hell would’ve been less sickening than having to watch you two fawn over each other all night.”

You pause, taking in his features. The cold mask of indifference faded away and you could see the tension in his jaw as he spoke. A slow smile spreads across your face as realization dawns on you.

“Are you jealous, shadowsinger?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Azriel exclaims. “Why would I ever be jealous of Eris?”

You shrug, fully reveling in the irritation flashing across those hazel eyes of his. “Maybe you have a crush. I mean, I can’t say I blame you. I heard that Autumn Court males have fire in their veins and that they fuck like it too.”

Azriel gapes at you, shadows peering over his shoulders in amusement. There were only a few things in this realm that you enjoyed more than the sight of his flustered expression. The feared spymaster of the Night Court blushing like an innocent maiden thanks to your dirty mouth.

“The filth that comes out of your mouth would bring the males in Illyria to their knees.”

You smirked. “Good, it puts them in the perfect position to kiss my ass.”

Despite himself, Azriel laughs. It was full and rich, the sound reverberating through your skin as his laughter filled the room. You realize with a jolt that tonight was the first time you've actually heard his real laugh. Maybe that’s what possessed you to say what you said next.

“I am serious about taking the bed, whether you’re in it or not.”

Azriel raises a brow, but says nothing as you stride past him on the way to the bathroom. As you close the door behind you, the shadowsinger calls out with an amused voice, “Don’t use up all the hot water, witchling.”

“Bite me, batling,” you retort with mockery, throwing a vulgar gesture over your shoulder.

His dark laughter trails after you as you enter the bathroom. With a hand on your hip, you examine the porcelain tub positioned in the middle of the marble floor, its size large enough to accommodate Illyrian wings. Steam rose from the bath and it was all the invitation you needed to strip out of your clothes.

You carefully unclasp the sapphire necklace hanging around your neck and set it against the counter. Reaching towards the back of your dress, you tug on the button securing the halter top, but it wouldn’t seem to budge. You tried again, attempting to maneuver the clasp to no avail.

After angling your arms in a dozen uncomfortable positions, you let out a sigh of frustration. You were almost tempted to use your magic to unfasten the damned thing, but you were too afraid to ruin the beautiful dress.

An abrupt knock at the door nearly made you jump out of your own skin. “What’s taking so godsdamned long? I’d like to actually bathe and sleep before dawn.”

You roll your eyes even though Azriel couldn’t see beyond the wooden door. “My dress is stuck.”

There was a pause of silence on the other side. Hesitantly, Azriel spoke again. “Do you need help?”

You gaze into the enormous mirror, blowing out a tendril of dark hair from your eyes. The reflection that peered back had a sheen of sweat coating her olive skin and frustration at the inability to undress was written all over her dark kohl rimmed eyes, but you weren’t ready to admit defeat. You'd find a way out of this dress one way or another. Tugging at the fabric once again, you overshot your aim and banged your elbow against the marble countertop with a loud smack.

Azriel curses from the other side of the door. “Oh for fuck’s sake-“ With a frustrated sigh, he stalks into the bathroom and found you clutching your arm in pain. “Just admit you need my help.”

“No thanks, I’m not providing free material for your spank bank.”

The shadowsinger rolls his eyes. “Your stubbornness is going to get you injured.” He came closer, but you took a step backwards and unwisely cornered yourself into the sink.

“I don’t need your help.”

“Stop being a godsdamned brat and come here.”

The authority laced in Azriel’s command made you stand upright. A glimpse of the feared spymaster leaked out then, his hazel eyes beckoning you forth as though he could see right through you. You understood then why his victims always talked. One look and you were damn ready to spill all of your deepest darkest secrets.

Silently, you turned around and suddenly found the ceiling quite interesting. Azriel came up behind you and swept your hair over your shoulder with ease, his shadows sweeping over your skin in a gentle caress. You involuntarily shivered, willing yourself to stay still while his fingers found the culprit of a button.

Through the mirror, Azriel met your gaze. His eyes swept over your form, taking in the tight dress adorning your body. Mor had truly pulled out all the stops for your mission tonight and it showed in the elegant drape of the lace fabric. The high neckline came up to your throat in an uncharacteristically modest cut, but the small opening at the front dipped dangerously low, allowing a generous view of your cleavage. The shadowsinger's eyes traveled down your exposed skin, a slight smirk adorning his lips while you held your breath.

Azriel gripped your waist firmly with his left hand while his right traveled up your back. He took his time, humming softly while his fingers danced up the column of your spine. Even through the fabric, an electric jolt awakened every nerve ending while he painstakingly took his time. Languid and unhurried, his touch brushed the back of your neck and elicited a wave of desire to pulsate in your lower abdomen. Suddenly, your mouth felt uncomfortably dry while your skin burned with a flash of heat. You licked your lips instinctively while trying not to notice the effects of the shadowsinger's touch.

In one swift move, the hook came undone and you barely had time to gather the fabric to your chest to avoid flashing Azriel. His fingers grazed your bare skin before his hand retreated back to his side.

It was only for a split second, but you could’ve sworn that you saw a flash of something predatory in Azriel’s reflection.

“Thanks,” you murmur quietly.

You needed to get away from his touch and the onslaught of arousal it stirred within you.

Turning around, you ran right into the solid wall that was Azriel’s chest. A scarred hand gripped your arm to keep you from stumbling and the overwhelming scent of night chilled mist and cedar invaded your senses. You wanted to blame your sudden outburst of clumsiness on the faerie wine you’d consumed earlier, but it had been hours since your last drink and you currently felt alarmingly sober. As you look up into those familiar hazel eyes, the flush that spreads over your cheeks betrays every bout of logic within you.

Shit. Were you turned on by the shadowsinger?

You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about it. All the verbal sparring and tension between you and Azriel had been brewing for some time. Sometimes you wondered if all the arguments were just a precursor to your own fucked up version of foreplay.

“Never thought I’d live to see the day that you’re thanking me for undressing you,” Azriel says in a low, cool voice. There was something flirtatious and suggestive in the husky tone of his words, awakening a familiar ache in your core.

You swallow thickly. “Now who’s being crude?”

“Don’t worry, witchling. I never start anything I can’t finish.”

Cauldron boil and fry you, the rush of arousal has shot straight to your head.

Azriel smirks, locking you in place as he leans closer. You hold your breath as his face dips towards yours until only a wisp of air separates your mouth from his. The tension was palpable in the air and you felt a surge of electricity thrum through your veins when his gaze flickers to your lips.

A beat passes as your eyes meet. It would be so easy to give in and allow yourself to taste him, but before your hormone addled brain could make you do something you’d undoubtedly regret, Azriel reaches for the robe behind you and tosses it over his shoulder.

“Hurry up or I’m taking the bed for myself.”

With that, the shadowsinger disappears through the door while you stare back at your reflection once again. You had a crazed look in your eyes and your cheeks were flushed as though you had just finished running up the ten thousand steps at the House of Wind. Shame was written all over your face from the desire wafting off of you in waves.

A cold shower. You needed a godsdamned cold shower.

Apparently, a working hearth was not part of Keir’s plans of renovation for the Moonstone Palace. The cold blooded lizard probably had no need for a fireplace anyways given his reptilian nature. You sighed, wrapping the thick blankets over yourself in a desperate attempt for warmth.

After your much needed bath, you were surprised to discover Azriel setting up a makeshift bed for himself on the floor. Whatever anomaly of sexual tension that passed between you in the bathroom quickly dissipated as weariness threatened to take you under. You were all too glad to climb into bed and let sleep claim you, but the freezing wind had other ideas.

“Will you stop your tossing? I can hear your teeth chattering from all the way down here,” Azriel grumbles in the dark.

“It’s not my fault that it’s bloody freezing,” you respond in equal annoyance.

“Use a blanket.”

“No shit, shadowsinger. If only I’d thought of that,” you buried yourself further underneath the sheets. “Oh wait, I did and I’m still likely to lose a leg to frostbite.”

“So fucking dramatic,” he muttered under his breath. You could hear him rustling in the darkness. Then, a dip in the bed.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Moonlight streamed through the windows, reflecting the red and gold membrane of Azriel’s wings as he stood over you. With his dark hair perfectly tousled and eyes glowing golden in the night, the arousal from earlier came rushing back with a vengeance. Suddenly, sharing the same bed with the shadowsinger felt a little too close to tempting fate. Unaware of your wayward thoughts, he lifted the sheets and gestured for you to make room.

“Scoot over.”

You clutch the blanket to your chest. “Not a chance.”

Annoyance was written all over his face. “I’m warm, you’re cold. Do you want to freeze to death or not?”

It didn’t take long for you to mull your choices over. You were rather fond of your limbs and had no desire to lose them to the glacial temperatures. That was the only reason you allowed Azriel to climb into bed with you, or so you told yourself.

Azriel shifted beside you, trying to settle into a comfortable position to accommodate his large wings. Wordlessly, he pulled you into his arms. His body warmth was deliciously satisfying and you shamelessly pressed against him, effectively using the male as your own personal heater.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding. You’re as cold as ice.”

His arms circled around your waist, pressing your back firmly against him. Azriel pulled the blankets over you, enveloping your bodies in a warm, comfortable heat.

You sigh in relief. “I told you. I always knew Keir was a sadist, but this is another level of cruelty.”

Azriel’s soft laughter fans over the crook of your neck as you unabashedly snuggle into his warmth. “You’re a greedy little witchling, aren’t you?”

You press your cold toes onto his bare legs, earning a yelp from the shadowsinger.

“Brat.”

“Prick.”

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I might be a prick, but you’re the one using me for my body.”

“Don’t let it go to your head, shadowsinger. I’d easily cuddle with Bryaxis if it meant not freezing to death.”

That dark laughter again. It swept over you like rumbling thunder and suddenly the temperature in the room spiked. You tense, freezing in place against Azriel’s arms. He must’ve mistook the action for a shiver because before you knew it, Azriel was pulling you closer, the warmth of his hands slipping over your midsection.

“Better?” He asks in a low, husky voice. Was it just you or did his voice dip an octave deeper? Azriel’s fingers hover over your stomach, rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

“Mhmm,” you mumble in response, entirely distracted by the small ministrations he was unknowingly torturing you with.

A small whimper crawled up the back of your throat and you did your best to hide it with a yawn. Azriel seemed entirely oblivious to his effect on you as his hands inch further and further up your ribcage, darting dangerously close to your sternum. Every sweep of his fingers against your skin had you clenching your thighs together.

Mother save you, you truly needed to get a hold of yourself. This was Azriel, for Cauldron’s sake. You hated the male with every fiber of your being. If only your body could get with the program instead of leaning into the sweep of his large hands.

Sleep. You needed to sleep. Whatever delusional thoughts currently running through your oxygen deprived brain would soon correct itself after a good night’s rest.

Shutting your eyes close, you willed yourself to wind down. You would not let horniness dig its sharp claws into you. Eventually, your wired mind gave way to the invitation of hazy thoughts and blurry dreams until you felt a strange sensation.

“Azriel?”

“Hmm?” His sleep coated answer echoes in the darkness.

“Please tell me that’s Truth-teller digging into my back.”

Because there it was, his hardness pressing against your backside.

“Shit,” Azriel curses loudly at the same time that you squirm in place. The sudden movement made you accidentally grind your ass into him and the growl that came out of his mouth was utterly unholy. “Do not do that.”

His hand curls around your arm, keeping you a safe distance away from his erection. You turn over to face him and while you made a conscious effort not to glance down, you still caught a glimpse of the bulge protruding from his underclothes. Azriel sat up and instantly covered himself with blankets, but it was a wasted effort. You’d already seen everything.

You mirrored his movement, pulling yourself up into a seated position and crossing your legs underneath you.

Azriel began to say “I’m sorry” at the same time that you blurted out “It’s fine.”

For once in your immortal life, you found yourself speechless. The only sound that you managed to make was a choked giggle that Azriel instantly glared at you for.

“Now is not the time to laugh,” he grunts.

You hold up your hands. “I’m sorry. I swear I’m not laughing at you. It’s just been a very weird night.”

The flush on Azriel’s cheeks made his golden brown skin glow underneath the moonlight. “No shit,” he blew out a breath. “An unexpected erection wasn’t exactly part of my plans.”

You tried your best to tamper down the nervous giggle rising in your throat. “Can I do anything to help?”

Azriel bowed his head and groaned. “No, I think you’ve done enough.”

“Are you honestly blaming me for your hard-on?” you ask incredulously. Leave it to Azriel to make his erection entirely your fault.

“I wouldn’t have a hard on if you weren’t grinding your ass into my dick.”

“I was cold!” you exclaimed. “Besides, if I was truly grinding my ass into your dick, we wouldn’t be sitting here arguing.”

“You’re making it worse.”

The pained expression on Azriel’s face confirmed the statement.

“I’m just talking!” Crossing your arms, you readied yourself for the oncoming argument. Any chance of sleep had gone entirely out the window. As always, the shadowsinger was being a colossal pain in the ass. “You’re the one shoving your greedy little hands underneath my shirt.”

“We wouldn’t be in this position if you’d stopped your damn complaining. You were freezing. I was trying to help.”

“Well, you helped too much.”

Azriel’s brows rose. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Shit. You’d definitely revealed more than you intended to. “Nothing, forget it. Can we just go to bed?”

“If you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly in a resting mood right now.”

“Godsdamned it,” you mutter. The Mother was honestly testing your sanity tonight. “Fine, just think about things that will turn you off. Rusty daggers? Unkempt rooms? Oh, I know. Cassian in a dress!”

He huffed in frustration. “You’re not helping.”

You tittered. “No, you’re right. Cassian in a dress is definitely a turn on for you.”

Azriel grits his teeth. “For the love of gods, stop talking.”

“I’m just trying to help. Clutching your crotch is not going to get us any closer to sleep.”

He rolls his eyes in response. “Please, like I didn’t smell your arousal earlier in the bathroom and in bed. At least I’m considerate enough to not mention it.”

“Considerate is the last word I’d use to describe you. Asshole is particularly high on the list.” You paused, narrowing your eyes as his words slowly dawned on you. “Wait. You could tell that I was turned on earlier? Is that why you kept touching me?” The shit-eating grin on Azriel’s face was response enough. “Oh you’re dead, shadowsinger.”

“You didn’t seem to be complaining when I was doing it.”

“Prick.”

“Brat.”

You stared at one another, cheeks flushed, eyes wild, and chests rising and falling in harmonious rhythm. Whether the palpable tension filling the room was from your verbal sparring or something else entirely, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was that a familiar sensation of desire was now pooling in your core, igniting your entire body with desperate need as Azriel’s gaze dips lower to your mouth.

“I might be a brat, but you’re obviously turned on by it.”

The depths of his hazel irises were nearly swallowed by his blown out pupils. “Shut. Up.”

“Why don’t you make me?”

The expression that bloomed on Azriel’s face was entirely primal. A shock of electricity crackled in the air, summoning a magnetic pull to the stubborn male before you. Warning bells blared within your mind, but you ignored it. The desire surging between you was impossible to resist.

You wanted to taste him.

You needed to taste him.

Against all logic and sense, Azriel surges forward and hungrily presses his mouth against yours. You tilt your chin up to meet his lips, fingers greedily intertwining into his dark locks. Azriel tasted like sin. His lips were soft, plush, and entirely intoxicating. The shadowsinger pulls you closer, his warm mouth pressing kisses onto your lips, neck, shoulder, and whatever surface he could reach.

“You are the most stubborn, frustrating person I have ever met,” he declares as he tilts your head back to allow access to your neck.

“You’re no walk in the park either, shadowsinger.” Your eyes flutter close as he sucks on your soft flesh, leaving marks against your collarbone. “Never in my life have I argued with anyone as much as I’ve argued with you.”

His hands crawl up your spine, pulling you into a tight embrace while you nipped at his neck. “The fact that you’re arguing with me right now, while I’m actively kissing you is a testament of how unwilling you are to let anyone else have the last word. Do you even know how insane you drive me?”

You whimper as he takes your face into his hands. “I can’t even get through an entire day without thinking about you. Your smile, your laugh, your smell. You’re intoxicating.”

He kissed away whatever sarcastic remark you had sitting on the tip of your tongue. Azriel wasn’t the only one feeling euphoric. You were drowning in him, but you couldn’t get enough. The fights, the arguments, the tension - it was all leading up to this. Because the taste of him in your mouth felt like the answer to a question you didn’t even know you’d asked.

“I think about you all the time,” you admit. “It’s absolutely fucking maddening. I think I might be a masochist.”

“You?” Azriel asks in disbelief. “I have been in misery since the moment we met. All those months I’ve spent depriving myself of you, fighting about stupid little things, arguing about anything and everything just to get a sliver of your attention. It’s been torturous, hoping that this feeling would go away, but it hasn’t. I’ve thought about this moment. What you’d taste like. How you’d feel against me. The sounds you’d make,” he pressed an open mouthed kiss underneath your jaw.

A soft moan escapes from your lips and Azriel growls in response.

“Fuck, you have no idea what you do to me.” The guttural sound swept over you deliciously.

“Then show me.”

Whatever restraint Azriel had before was completely unleashed as he took your lips into his once more. His tongue swept over your bottom lip and darted into your mouth, testing and tasting every inch of you. Your tongues swirled and sucked, fighting for dominance as though this was one of your heated arguments. Azriel pulled you into his lap and you straddled him, your thighs resting on either side of his.

His hands wandered underneath your silk negligee, deft fingers tugging at the hem. “Is this okay?” Azriel asks.

You nod, too drunk with lust to even form words.

Azriel smirks. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

You pull the thin dress over your head without hesitation, throwing it behind you with careless abandon. “Is that enough of an answer for you?”

He laughs, taking in the sight of you in nothing but skimpy lingerie. You’d never been more glad in your life that you’d packed the matching black lace set that left very little to the imagination. Azriel cups your breasts in his large hands, squeezing softly as he trails kisses along your cleavage, pulling away to whisper against your exposed skin.

“Such a brat.”

You grin. “You like it.”

“More than you know.”

Azriel finds the sensitive spot beneath your ear and presses open mouthed kisses along your neck all the way down to the column of your throat. You arch against him, displeased to find a barrier of fabric separating you.

You impatiently tug at the hem of his shirt and he smiles into your neck, murmuring softly.

“Whatever happened to not tainting my innocence in the middle of the night?”

“I’ve seen the chains in your bedroom, shadowsinger. You’re definitely not innocent.”

His eyes crinkle with amusement. “Those are for official spymaster business, but if you’re truly that interested, I can make an exception for you.”

With that, Azriel discards his shirt, giving you a full view of the swirling tattoos etched onto his golden brown skin. You trace the Illyrian markings, taking in the opportunity to admire his naked torso.

“Beautiful,” you breathe.

Azriel breaks out into a smile. Not a grin or a smirk, but a smile that made your heart ache. He was so beautiful it was almost unfair.

“I mean it, Azriel. I know I can be an asshole sometimes, but I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”

He kisses you, slow and sweet this time, as though he were savoring the moment. “Thank you,” he whispers tenderly. “I’d say the same about you, but beautiful seems like an understatement. You’re the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen, sweetheart. I’ve thought so since the moment we met.”

You laughed, hiding the blush creeping up onto your cheeks. “Don’t go all soft on me. You hated me.”

“I’ve never hated you,” he says softly. “You’re a pain in the ass and you constantly call me out on my bullshit, but I think that’s what I like most about you. You challenge me and I find your combative personality incredibly sexy. You had me wrapped around your finger the moment I laid eyes on you. I was completely, absolutely fucking done for.”

“I knew you secretly wanted me,” you jokingly interject.

“Didn’t think it was much of a secret. Cassian and Rhys knew this whole time. Mor too, which is probably why she chose to room with Amren tonight.”

If you thought about it, truly thought about it, all the signs were there. You were just too deep in denial to admit it to yourself because once you did, you wouldn’t be able to deny the fact that maybe you felt the same way about him too.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

Azriel brushed a strand of hair from your face, tilting your chin up. “Because, seeing you dance with Eris tonight made me realize that I couldn’t bear the sight of you with anyone else. I want to be the one that you dance with. I want to be the one that you argue with. I want to be the only one to make you smile the way that you’re smiling at me right now.”

“I’m not going to stop being a pain in the ass,” you say with a grin. “And I can’t promise that I won’t argue with you about stupid little things. Most of all, I’ll probably keep on being an annoying brat for the rest of my immortal existence.”

Azriel laughs. “You may be a brat, but you’re my brat.”

The butterflies in your stomach threatened to fly right into your heart. Gods, this male. One minute you were arguing and the next he was turning you into nothing but a mushy pile of a person.

"I want you," Azriel breathes. "And if tonight is all you're willing to give me, I'll take it. I'll take whatever I can get from you, but I'm done pretending like you don't completely consume my thoughts."

"I want you too, Azriel." You caress his cheek, tracing a sharp cheekbone with your thumb. "So fucking badly it hurts. Now that I've tasted you, I don't think I could ever give it up. What I’m saying is, I feel the same way about you too and I’d like to give this a try beyond just this night.”

"Good, because I'm pretty sure you've ruined every other female for me."

You shift in his lap, a grin breaking out on your face when you realize exactly what you were sitting on. “Is emotional intimacy turning you on, Azriel?”

“Fucking hell,” he swears. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

Azriel grins. “For the record, I don’t expect you to stop being the ill tempered, foul mouthed female that I fell for in the first place. I’d rather fight with you than get along with anyone else.”

His lips ghost over yours. “The only thing this changes is that I now know the secret to shutting you up,” he sucks at the soft skin underneath your ear again, eliciting a breathy moan from you.

“Fuck you,” you hiss playfully, practically melting into his lap.

Azriel grips your waist, grinding his erection into your backside. “If you insist, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, greedily licking the hollow of his throat as you roll your hips into him. Two could play that game. Azriel curses under his breath and you decide that it was your favorite sound in the entire realm.

He wasted no time in unfastening the clasp of your bra, releasing your breasts from the lacy constraints. Azriel gave you a wicked grin before pinching your nipple, taking your right breast into his mouth while you moaned loudly. Ever the equal opportunist, he gave your left breast matching attention, releasing each nipple with a popping sound that left your legs trembling.

The last remnants of hesitation faded away as Azriel flipped you on your back. You bounced against the mattress with an amused giggle, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch the shadowsinger crawl towards you. Powerful wings spanned the entirety of his back while his shadows crowned him in darkness like some fallen angel. You knew then and there that this beautiful male would be your undoing.

As if reading your mind, Azriel grinned before pinning you underneath him. His fingers toy with the waistband of the skimpy lingerie, pausing for your permission. You shrug out of your panties and Azriel nearly tears them off in haste.

He spreads your legs open while his dark head disappears between your thighs. Azriel trails kisses on your skin, his hot breath fanning over your already soaking core.

“Fuck, so wet for me already. I’ve been dying to taste you all night,” Azriel licks a stripe of your needy core and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head. “You taste even sweeter than you smell.”

His mouth was on you again, licking and sucking like he’d been starving for centuries and you were a feast spread out especially for him. When Azriel’s fingers plunged into you dripping wet cunt, it was almost too much to bear. He sucked at your clit and your back arched off the bed. Without warning, he plunged a second finger inside you while you tugged at his hair.

The moans coming out of your mouth didn’t even sound like you. They belonged to someone else, a needy, seductive side of you that no one had ever unleashed. You had no idea how Azriel learned how to do that with his tongue, but you prayed to the Mother that he wouldn’t stop.

It might’ve been minutes or hours since Azriel first started eating you out. You couldn’t keep track of anything else besides the Illyrian male between your legs. Never in your life has anyone made you come from their mouth alone, but there was a first time for everything.

The tension in your needy core unspooled and the warmth of an oncoming orgasm had you gasping for breath.

“Azriel,” you moaned loudly. “I’m so close.”

He plunged his fingers inside you once more, pressing down on your abdomen with his free hand while he curved his digits within your walls. The combination of his mouth on your clit and his fingers in your pussy had you chasing after that familiar high.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Come for me.”

At his words, you completely unraveled. Azriel watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his mouth dripping with your arousal. He licked up every drop before kissing you. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you immediately wanted to return the favor.

As you reached for his boxers, Azriel gripped your wrist. “Another time. Tonight is about you, sweetheart. What do you want?”

“I want you,” you breathe. “All of you.”

His nose brushes against your cheek in a gentle, intimate manner. “Are you sure?”

You nod as his eyes meet yours. From this close, you could make out the golden flecks within his hazel irises. He grins as he kisses the tip of your nose.

“What did I say about using your words? I want to hear you say it.”

“I want you to fuck me, Azriel.”

Azriel kisses you, hungry and desperate as he positions himself over you. He tugs at the waistband of his boxers and mirrors your move from earlier, discarding the fabric over his shoulder. You laugh and he captures your lips once again, hiking your legs around his waist. Azriel moves slowly, filling you up with his length with careful consideration.

He searches your face as you wince, feeling him deep inside you. Deeper than you’ve ever taken. Your eyes water from the sheer size of him. His shadows wipe away your tears and you chuckle, nuzzling into the cold reprieve they provided. Azriel caresses your cheek, whispering encouragement into your ear.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Taking all of me,” he moves slowly. "That's it. Open your eyes. I want to watch you taking every inch of my cock."

Your eyes flutter open as his shadows twine through your wrists, binding them to the headboard behind you. Azriel gripped the wooden post, plunging himself deeper inside you until his hip bones touched yours. He releases a shaky breath, tendrils of inky night pulling your ankles around his waist. The shadows felt cold against your skin and your legs trembled as Azriel traced your lips with his thumb.

"Can I move?"

“Shit, fuck. Yes.”

Azriel chuckles. “Such a filthy mouth with a pretty little cunt.”

“I thought you liked my filthy fucking mouth -“

The air was knocked out of you as Azriel slammed his hips against yours, burying himself deep into your walls. If you ever had a doubt about the correlation between wingspan and dick size, it died at that moment. He plunged into you over and over again, his thrusts hitting the sweet spot with each fluid stroke. Pain and pleasure combined, you were seeing stars as Azriel continued his relentless pounding.

The slap of skin against skin filled the room and the smell of sex was heavy in the air. You clenched your walls around his member and Azriel groaned in response.

"You're so fucking tight, sweetheart. Feels so good. Is your pretty little cunt all for me?" The dirty words flying out of his mouth made you blush uncharacteristically. He rutted into you, holding your hips in place while he watched you squirm in pleasure underneath him. "Can anyone else fuck you like this? Make you beg and whimper for my cock while you clench your pussy around me like the greedy little brat that you are?"

"N-no, only you. Only you could fuck me like this, Azriel."

He smirked, pumping in and out of you slowly. The action was painstakingly driving you insane and you bucked your hips to take in more of him, but Azriel tutted in response. "If you want it, you'll have to beg for it."

Fucking hell. You whined, desperate to feel him thrust in you again. "Please, Azriel. I want you. I need you to fuck me senseless."

Azriel kissed your neck, smiling. "Good girl."

With that, he plunged into you once more, filling you up to the hilt. His control slipped and his pace picked up, fucking you so deliciously that you couldn't even remember your own name. You wrapped your legs around his waist, fingers digging between his shoulder blades.

Beads of sweat kissed his golden brown skin from the effort, giving him the appearance of a dewy, glowy, dark angel. Azriel’s wings flared behind him and you ran your pointer finger over the sensitive membrane. The shadowsinger buckled above you, a deep moan ripping through his chest. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, nipping at your soft skin with his teeth.

“Az?” you ask shyly.

Azriel perked up, catching your gaze. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can I ride you?”

His blown out pupils were swallowed by desire as he wordlessly flipped you over. Bracing yourself against his chest, you straddled Azriel and rocked against him slowly. Shadows wafted over you, snaking through your hips as they guided you to ride him in a steady rhythm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeated under his breath while you sank into him.

Azriel’s large hands cupped your ass, guiding you over his cock with a tight grip. The sight of him bucking desperately underneath you while a sheen of sweat coated his perfectly toned form made you smirk. His hands traveled up to your hips, fingertips briefly digging into your skin before softly cupping your breasts.

"You're so big. I love taking every inch of you. I'd never get tired of riding your perfect cock," you say as you grind into him, filling yourself up with the girth of his velvet wrapped steel.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he says huskily.

You smirk in response, slamming your hips against his and taking him in even deeper. Azriel’s hand wraps around your neck, lightly squeezing as you ride him into oblivion. You took his scarred hand into yours and kissed his fingertips.

“Beautiful,” you repeated.

"So fucking perfect. I love watching you ride me. Feels so damn good," He sat upright, letting you roll your hips into him while his forehead pressed against yours. “Such a good girl,” Azriel hummed into your neck. "Is this pussy mine?"

"It's yours, Azriel. All yours."

Your movements were slow and languid as you melded together. From this angle, the curve of his member hit your cervix with perfect precision. You didn't even know sex could feel this good. Never had anyone else coax and tease and make you submit like he could. At this point, you couldn’t tell where Azriel began and you ended.

The grip around your neck tightened, cutting off your circulation at just the right amount to feel pleasurable. "Gonna come for me again, sweetheart?"

"I want you to come, too. I want to feel you filling me up."

“You fucking kill me when you say things like that. I'm so close, but I'm not coming until you do too. Can you do that for me?"

He swept the dark curtain of your hair over your shoulder, taking you in with tender eyes.

“Yes,” you rasp. “So fucking close.”

Azriel flips you over gently, his thrusts sloppy and waning as you both lose yourselves in each other. You moan his name so loudly that it would be a wonder if the whole palace didn’t hear. His fingers rubbed circles onto your sensitive clit and pushed you over the edge.

Just as waves of pleasure slammed into you, Azriel moaned your name into the night like a prayer. Together, you rode out the high as skin slapped against skin.

Azriel spurted into you, filling you to the brim with his orgasm. His lips found yours and pressed a gentle kiss against your mouth. The gesture was oddly intimate, more personal than the fact that he was currently balls deep inside of you. The act of coming together was entirely euphoric. For the second time that night, you found yourself seeing stars.

The shadowsinger pulled out of you slowly, taking great care not to disturb your extremely sensitive sex. Azriel rolled over in bed, your panting breaths the only sounds filling the room while you both recovered from the strenuous effort. Afterglow cast a shimmering haze over the both of you and you were content to bask in it while Azriel settled in beside you.

Despite the fact that he'd just given you two orgasms in a row and undoubtedly fucked you into next week, Azriel blushed as you turned over to examine him. Coming down from the high of the best sex of your life, you smiled at his bed hair and swollen lips. Azriel grinned shyly, resting his head on the pillow as he faced you.

“Fuck,” he said with a laugh. “That was…”

You nodded in response. “Fucking amazing? Remind me to thank Mor for rooming with Amren.”

Azriel smirked. “You can thank her in the morning. We’re gonna have an early start, so try and rest sweetheart.”

He pulled himself out of bed, eliciting a groan of protest from you. Azriel chuckled. “I’m just getting a towel to clean up. No need to be a brat,” he adds with a wink.

You stuck out your tongue, but watched in appreciation as Azriel’s naked form walked towards the restroom. He looked back at you, raising a brow at your blatant ogling.

As promised, Azriel cleaned you up with a warm towel. Since your negligee was nowhere to be found, he draped his own shirt over you and smiled at the sight of the fabric nearly swallowing you whole. Azriel pulled you into his arms and you rested your head on his chest like you belonged there all along. Despite the wind howling outside, you no longer felt its cold sting. The shadowsinger’s warmth and wings cocooned you in his safety.

You yawned. “Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel presses a kiss to your cheek, enveloping you into his arms. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

The banging at the door is the first thing that greeted you the next morning. The second thing was Azriel’s sleeping form. The shadowsinger had an arm draped over your stomach, his naked chest rising and falling as he snored. You could’ve watched him all day if it weren’t for the repeated, aggressive knocks echoing throughout the room.

“Get your ass up, Az. You promised you’d train with me this morning.”

Azriel opened one eye, groaned, and pulled you closer to him. “If we ignore him, maybe he’ll go away,” he says in a gravelly morning voice that sounded so incredibly sexy that it nearly sent your heart into a cardiac arrest.

“This is Cassian we’re talking about. He once eavesdropped outside your door for a whole hour because he thought you had a female over.”

The pout on his lips was so adorable you wanted to kiss it off. Gods, what the hell was this male turning you into?

“Well, I do have a female over right now and I much prefer her company over training with my brother.”

Another bang. “I can hear you in there. I know you’re awake.”

You snorted. “I can get rid of him if you want.”

Azriel propped his head up in one hand, surveying you carefully. “As amazing as last night was, I don’t want to force you into anything you’re not ready for. If you want to wait to tell the others, I would completely understand.”

With the way Azriel was looking at you, it was almost like he was shyly asking you if you truly meant what you said last night. This soft, nervous side of him was entirely new to you, but you could already tell that you’d grow to like it.

“When have I ever done anything that I didn’t want to?” you ask with amusement. “It’s sweet, Az and I appreciate it, but this is our friends we’re talking about. They’re the biggest group of busybodies to ever grace this realm. Besides, I’m not one to keep secrets. I’m all in if you are.”

Azriel breaks out into a smile, genuine and tender, just for you. He places a chaste kiss on your lips. “I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge, especially if it’s you. I’m all in too, sweetheart.”

You grin. “Good, because I’m about to kick Cassian’s ass for waking us up so godsdamned early.”

The shadowsinger leans back, watching as you pad across the room. The cold air bites at your bare legs, but Azriel’s shirt kept the rest of your body warm. Swearing, you fling the door wide open while Cassian nearly stumbles over the threshold.

“What the hell do you want, Cas?”

“I- you -“ His gaze quickly scans over you. At his brother’s shirt covering your body. At Azriel’s dark head peeking out under the covers. The gears in his mind seemed to put the pieces together as he let out a hoot. “Fucking finally!”

He flags someone down in the hallway. Mor and Amren peek their heads into the room, a smile breaking out on both of your friend’s faces.

“You owe me twenty gold marks, boy,” Amren states.

“Well technically, Feyre’s guess was the most accurate,” Mor supplies.

As if summoned by her words, the High Lord and High Lady strolled past. Rhysand’s brows disappeared into his hair line as he took you in. Beside him, Feyre’s eyes widened before she dragged Nesta into the fold.

“I told you I was right.”

Nesta groaned, grumbling under her breath about losing twenty golden marks to her youngest sister.

“You guys bet on this?” you ask incredulously, half offended that your friends were this invested into your love life.

“Oh, please,” Nesta says with a roll of her eyes. “You two reeked of sexual tension. It was inevitable. The fact that it took you this long is the only surprising thing about this whole situation.”

“Kinda reminds me of us, Nes,” Cassian says with a grin.

Nesta shakes her head, but you clocked the fond smile on her face.

“Get a room, you two,” Rhys teases playfully.

“Save it, Rhys. You and my High Lady were just as unbearable during your honeymoon phase,” Mor shoots back.

You place a hand on your hip, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are we done having this fucked up little gathering?”

Azriel saunters up beside you, his tousled hair sticking up in a dozen different directions. Shadows twirl into your hair while he casually drapes an arm over your shoulder.

“Can we take a rain check, Cas? We’re a little busy.”

The Illyrian general’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head as he nods. “Of course, brother. You two look like you need the rest.”

Rolling your eyes, you shot Cassian a vulgar gesture. The rest of your friends snickered, attempting to hide their beaming smiles at the sight of you and Azriel side by side. You simply shut the door on your nosy friends, knowing that they would undoubtedly hound you for details later.

As you turned around, Azriel pressed your back into the door, taking you completely off guard as he kissed you hungrily. You kissed back with fervent passion, smiling against his mouth while he hoisted you in the air. Wrapping your legs around his midsection, Azriel kept a steady grip on your waist while he peppered kisses onto your cheeks.

"What was that for?"

Azriel shrugs. "Just saying good morning."

You chuckled, tangling your arms behind his neck and kissing him once more. "Good morning."

Azriel responds by lifting you in his arms bridal style as though you weighed nothing. He discarded you into the bed with ease, pinning him underneath you once more. You giggle, kissing the tip of his nose and reveling in the peace and quiet. It was ironic to think that mere hours ago, Azriel was complaining about sharing this exact room with you.

Now, he kissed you deeply, awakening every nerve in your body. With his body pressed flush against yours, Azriel smiled.

“Now where were we, sweetheart?”

tags: @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @gxdsmonsters @ofelia-writesxox @harmeetk @chickmeowt @bankerfrog @ktmylady

#hey hi hello i'm sweating are you #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel smut #azriel fic #azriel acotar #acotar smut #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #acotar #acomaf #acosf #sjm #azriel fanfiction #masterlist #jess writes

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monster-disaster · 6 months

Text

[incubus] Darian

incubus!Darian x human!Reader Good to know: ass play, oral (f receiving)

Summary: You go to Darian for a massage session.

You can feel the warmth of the ground even through your flip-flops. The bright rays of the sun burn the back of your neck, caressing down on the soft line of your shoulders. The thin layer of sweat on your heated skin shines under the hot globe at the top of the clear blue sky. Even the thin towel around your body seems too much in this weather. Your fingers tighten on the soft fabric to keep it in place while you wait for the door in front of you to open.

Your gaze turns from the small hut to the pools nearby. The gentle ripples of the water glint as the humans and monsters move around in it. You can hear the splashes and laughs.

The plants and exotic, colorful flowers bloom in the heat all over the resort. Their scent mixes with the dryness of the desert. The dunes stand tall in the distance.

Your attention snaps back to the door when you hear it open. The creak is quiet and light. Your gaze meets with a bare chest first before dragging your eyes up to a smiling face. It's mischievous and dangerous. His dark blue lips seem soft around the pearly whites of his teeth. His tongue peaks up for a second as he licks one of his canines. They are pointed but not like the vampires'.

"Hello," you break the silence when you find your voice. His dark eyes crinkle with amusement at the hoarseness of your voice. "Hey," he greets you, stepping back from the door to give you enough space to enter. "You are Amanda, I believe?" "Oh," you gasp, reaching out your hand. "I'm Amanda. It's nice to meet you." "Darian at your service," he says, holding your hand in his much larger one. His touch is warm and firm. His lips are soft as he leans down and kisses the back of your hand.

You thought the small hut would give you protection from the heat, and even though the air is much better here, the presence of the incubus makes it hard for you to breathe. His tall form hovers above you, and your gaze drops on his nipples every now and again. They are pierced. The small silvery bars glint under the dim lights.

"Are you ready then?" He asks, and when you nod, he continues. "You can get comfortable."

He turns his back to you, busying himself with something to give you a moment to relax and settle on the massage table.

You take a deep breath from the air that smells like oils and candles as you drop the towel onto a chair nearby. You are bare and flustered. This is your first time being here, wanting a massage that can escalate quickly. The male hasn't even touched you yet, and you are already moist between your legs.

You lay down on the comfortable but firm table. Your chest presses against the leather, and your arms rest next to you. Your face is in the hole on the headrest.

"Just relax," Darian says after a few seconds. You see his legs when he moves closer. His feet are bare. "And tell me if something hurts or you want to stop." "Okay," you reply, forcing your body to relax.

He starts slowly. His hands are large and clever. He draws small circles on the back of your neck, going down to your shoulders and shoulder blades. His fingers dig into your skin, massaging your muscles and working through your body. Darian traces the line of your spine with his thumb, watching your every reaction.

"Is it good?" He asks even though he already knows your answer. The scent of your arousal is potent in the air. "Yes," you reply, groaning when he reaches a spot.

He isn't in a hurry. By the time he reaches your lower body, you are already relaxed and putty under his hands. You melt into the mattress, enjoying his long fingers gliding over your bare skin. He goes to your legs, working himself up on you from your toes and claves. He massages your muscles, drawing circles and long lines with his fingers. The incubus's palms are warm on your thighs. His thumbs go up on your inner thighs once, twice, three times.

You are excited, and you know he knows. You fidget every now and again, wanting more but not being brave enough to ask for it. The male smiles at your struggle. He can almost feel your pleasure on the tip of his tongue. You are sweet and needy.

"What do you want, Amanda?" He asks, smirking. His hands grope your ass cheeks, almost pulling them apart to see you better. "From the front," he continues, letting his thumb slip over your wet slit. "Or from the back."

A gasp leaves your lips when you feel his finger around your other hole. He draws small circles around it while he waits for your reply. Your legs pull apart automatically to give him more space.

"From the back," you reply breathlessly. Heat burns your cheeks at your answer, but Darian isn't shocked or repulsed by your wants. His eyes are on your hole, licking his lips.

"Good," he hums. "Very good."

He continues to massage you, teasing but never really reaching where you want him most. Long minutes pass by like this while your breathing gets heavier. The incubus feeds on your every moan and groan. He sees the small movements of your hips as you try to stay in place and not push your bottom up to him to take.

"Demanding little thing, aren't you?" He jokes. "Don't hold back, Amanda. Give me everything you can." "Please, Darian," you gasp out. "What do you want?" He asks, his voice coming from much closer than before. His breath is hot on the side of your neck. Goosebumps run through your skin that shines with a thin layer of oil under the dim, relaxing lights when he licks your pulse. His tongue is warm and wet. You can feel the tingling his saliva gives you immediately. It goes straight to your core. The table is probably already messy under you. "I want you to…" you gasp. He starts to go lower on your body. He kisses and licks your back, letting his saliva relax you even more. You tremble and fidget. You want to know how his tongue feels in your holes. "Yes?" He hums. "Do you want me to eat this ass?" He grips your asscheeks, squeezing and jiggling it. "Yes," you gasp. "Please." "I will devour you, do not worry," he promises, moving back to the end of the table to grab your hips and pull you up. Your bottom is in the air while your face is still on the bed. You can smell yourself on the fabric. Your pussy pulses at the familiar scent. "So pretty," he hums, opening up your lips to see your pussy better. You soak the tip of his fingers within a few seconds. "So warm and delicious." "Oh, god," you groan at his words, wiggling in his hold with anticipation. The vulnerability of your position does nothing but spike your arousal higher. You are open and ready in front of his eyes. The thick globes of your bottom shine with the oil he used on you, and your cunt drips, making a mess between your thighs.

You moan when his thumb grazes your puckered hole in circles, groping your cheeks with his other hand. He pulls on the flesh, opening up you more. Your whole body trembles under his touch. His hot breath fans over your pussy, making you pulse and flutter around nothing.

A muffled squeal escapes your tightened throat when you feel his lips closing around your clit. His plump lips are hot and firm around the small bundle of nerves as the male sucks on it. Every nerve in your body focuses on that small spot that makes you go crazy. He flicks his tongue against it, licking up on your slit and gathering your juices on his tongue. "Oh, fuck," you groan when he barely pushes inside your cunt and continues his way up between your cheeks. His fingers dig into your flesh for better access to your asshole. He is warm and wet on your skin. The male soaks you in his saliva until you can feel your tight muscles relax and his tongue dart inside your hole. Your eyes fall shut at the tingling feeling on your pussy and asshole. Just the effect of his saliva would be enough to make you cum, but the incubus demands more from you and your delirious body. He fucks his tongue into your hole, darting in and out until your muscles lose enough under his assault. "You are delicious," Darian groans, intoxicated by the energy that radiates from you in thick, heavy waves. His cock is hard in his white, loose pants. With every moan and scream that leaves your lips, his shaft jerks, leaking precum. "Fuck," you breathe out, panting. "I never want you to stop." Your words are followed by a deep, satisfied chuckle. "You are so sensitive," Darian hums. "Responsive," he adds, pressing his thumb into your hole. Even after his saliva-soaked rimming, you are still tight around his finger. You moan at the feeling of him filling you up. He pushes in and out of you a few times before changing his fingers to reach deeper inside you. You drip onto the bed, your cunt and ass flutter with pleasure. At this point, the sounds leaving your chest are constant noises in the small hut that smells like desire and sex. "The others probably can hear you outside," the male smirks down at you, watching you drooling onto the table. "They can hear you scream as I finger that sweet ass." "Darian!" You scream, shaking. When you almost reach your orgasm, he stops, and you fall back from the edge with a pained cry. "Not yet," he says. "I want to taste your cunt again." Your pussy clenches at his words. "Ohgodyes," you groan. "Please!"

The male's free hand that isn't busy with your asshole finds the wet slit of your cunt. He grazes your sensitive flesh lazily, feeling your plump pussy under his touch. Your clit throbs and aches with need. "So wet," he says. "I just want to drink you up. Slurp up every drop you can give me until I'm full and satisfied." "Ohplease," you gasp, gripping the edges of the table to keep your balance as you push your bottom back to him.

Your hoarse begging is the sweetest sound for his ears as he leans down and shoves his tongue into your pussy immediately. The world spins around you at the overwhelming feeling under Darian's pushes and licks. He fucks your pussy with his tongue, drawing small circles on your clit and still pushing inside your asshole. Your sweat mixes with the oil that you can't smell anymore under the thick scent of your arousal.

Darian devours your pussy while fingering your ass. You open up for him obediently, letting him explore your depths with two thick fingers.

"Don'tstopdon'tstop," you chant desperately, feeling the familiar spasm jerk your body and curling your belly into a tight knot. You shake and twitch as your climax blinds you for long seconds. Your asshole squeezes around his fingers, not wanting to let him go while your pussy gushes into his hungry mouth. Your heart beats in your ears, and your lungs burn for air. Sparks of pleasure burn your whole body as you come down from your high. Darian has to help you to lay back down on the table, still on your stomach.

"Can I write you up for another session?" He asks knowingly. His long fingers trace slow patterns on the back of your head, playing with the sweaty strands of your hair. "Please."

- Masterlist Mirage Resort Masterlist Patreon

#monster smut #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster fucker #monster lover #incubus smut #incubus x human #incubus x reader #mirage resort #monster x reader #monster x human

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gardengirl222 · 15 days

Note

omg lene you should do something about a 80's slashers au with rafe and the boys that would be soooo cool!! ❤️❤️

!!! omigod yesss i'm gonna start with 80's slasher!rafe if feel like he'd be a creepy little stalkerrr, def season 2 rafe 💞

𐦍༘₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - non con, violence, stalking, spanking, slight breeding kink, knife play, dark!rafe - ₊˚⊹

you sat in the comfort of your bedroom, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, finishing up some homework while talking with a girlfriend of yours on the phone. you reach your hand out to your nightstand to grab the nail file when the sound of the door closing causes you to freeze, being left home alone, your heart starts to race, and you hang up the phone and walk up to your door. you pull down your pretty little white nightgown so it covers your ass as you press your ear to the door to make sure it was just your parents.

all you hear is silence so you shrug and convince yourself it was just your mind playing tricks on you, then the phone starts to ring again, thinking it was just your friend calling you back, and you pick up the phone.

"hello?" you speak with your voice lowered.

"hey babyface" you stop moving when you hear a voice you don't recognize.

"who's calling?" you try to sound assertive but end up sounding like a scared puppy.

"i've been uh- watching you for a long time, an' i figured i should introduce myself," he says, his voice all gravely. you grip on the handle of the phone and reach an arm over to close your curtains quickly.

"stop that! it's not funny, whoever this is leave me alone." you almost whine.

"nah can't do that baby, you looked too pretty in that nightgown...you wearin' panties underneath?" he continues.

"i'm gonna call my boyfriend an-and he'll find out who you are and beat you up!" you stutter.

"you're not gonna do that, cuz uh- i'm in the house, and if you hang up-"

"i'll call the police!" you cut him off.

"i need you to listen to me, if you don't wanna die, you need to walk down to the living room slowly- you try to run and i'll catch you. if you don't come down, i'll go up n'get you." he then hangs up, your chest heaving as tears start to form in your eyes, you think about climbing out the window but it is on the second floor and the man might catch you and kill you! you decide to grab a chair to put against the door to keep him coming in but it's too late, as you take one step backward trying to drag the chair you feel the blade of a knife press against your neck. you gasp, ready to scream.

"shshshsh, behave." the man shushes you, pressing himself behind you, god he must be tall. "told you to listen" he coos condescendingly.

"please, please don't..." you sob.

"hey, hey! shut up- listen to me alright?" he raises his voice causing you to shut your eyes and nod slowly in fear, tears spill down your face. "good girl. want you to lay down on your bed and stay there, don't move, scream, talk or do anything 'less i tell you." you nod again slowly and he removes the knife from your neck, you do as you are told and lay down on your bed, silently sobbing.

you look at the man, face now lit up by the soft light of your nightstand lamp, you watch him come closer and wipe some of the sweat forming on his forehead under his messy hair with the back of his hand that's holding the knife. he grins, getting up on your bed and tossing the knife next to him as he pins you down.

"r-rafe?..." you whisper, now realizing who it is.

"yeah! yeah baby it's me..." he continues to grin.

"get off! please rafe, i don't wanna do this with you!" you whine and start to squirm a little bit.

"you don't really have a choice." he mumbles as he runs his rough hands up and down your thighs, stopping to grab the hem of your lace panties. "you wear this for me?" he says pulling them down as you really start to cry, trying to get him off of you by pushing at his shoulders but he's too strong.

"i have a- my boyfriend-" you start but then he looks back into your eyes and smiles again. "nah, you don't, i got rid of 'im... cut him up, he's in the trunk of my truck. wanna see?" he asks, his eyes following yours, bringing his hand up to wipe your tears away lovingly.

"why!? why are you doing this!" you sob and try and move your face away from his touch. "i love you, i love you so much and you never talked to me or...looked at me and i need you to love me too…say it…" he demands. you shake your head no and try and push him off, pissed, rafe manhandles you. he flips you onto your stomach and lifts you up by your waist so your face is smushed against the messy sheets, ass in the air. "you fucking brat." he spits out.

he yanks your panties down and smacks your ass with his large hand, holding your wrists in the other. he forcefully spreads your legs and places a hard slap on your poor wet little cunt.

you let out a yelp as he "soothes" your throbbing pussy by rubbing your clit with the rough pads of three fingers. "are you a virgin princess?" he whispers, pressing a gross, sloppy kiss to your cheek. you whine out and try to move your face away. "what? you don't like my kisses?" he leans in again to give you a few more of those wet kisses, making taunting kissy sounds that make you scrunch up your face and mewl.

"gonna make you feel reeeally good baby, gonna make this little pussy cream all over me, yeah?" he rambles, grabbing the knife with his free hand, bringing it back to your neck. "please rafe, i've never- "

"you waited for me? huh? princess saved herself for me." you can hear his smile, he's almost relieved that he will be your first and last. he pulls himself out of his boxers and starts to line himself up. "i would'a stretched you out a bit first but this cunt is a dripping mess already so."

you scream as you feel his fat tip press against your entrance. "shhhhshh, s'just the tip." he murmurs, easing himself in slowly until he's stretching you as you've never felt, his tip kisses your cervix. "ow! it's too big, too much, too big..." you ramble, squeezing down on his cock unable to really move due to the knife.

"n'you are so tight, fuck, this is where you should'a always been..taking me like this babydoll." he grits through his teeth as he starts to thrust causing you to whine and to try and pull your hands away from his grip.

"keep cryin', it's only making me harder princess," he grunts, tears continue to stream down your face. he pounds into you now hard and fast, you wish you could grab onto his shoulders or hair as he starts to hit that sweet spot.

"stop it! rafeeee" you whine, he shushes you by tossing the knife on the bed again and covering your mouth with his hand as he continues his assault on your cunt. "i should cum in you, knock you up so you won't ever be able to leave me." he breathes out, he lets go of your face and wraps that hand around your neck to bring you up to kiss your neck. "no! no no please pull out! please rafe!" you cry.

he lets go of your neck and throws you back down you your face hits the mattress again, he lets go of your wrists so you are now gripping your sheets. "you know that's the knife i used to stab your boyfriend? he begged like a little bitch. he didn't deserve you." he reaches a hand around to grab your pussy and pull you closer to him, then rubbing your throbbing clit.

"m'na cummm" you mewl, body giving into how he's touching you so roughly yet gently.

"i know baby, give it to me, all over my cock c'mon" he encourages with that tone, and feeling him so deep in you and hitting that spot your body goes numb. shutting your eyes tightly as hot white explodes in you making you feel like you are on a roller-coaster.

he grips your waist and with the other hand, he's lovingly brushing back your messy baby hairs due to your sweaty forehead. "atta girl, thereee, see? i knew you could be good for me." he thrusts once more hard and deep, shooting his thick hot load all up in you causing you to whine at the feeling and making him groan.

he pulls out of you, sticking his two fingers into your pussy to push his cum back in, then leaning in to bite your ass. you let out a little scream, he flips you on your back and grabs the knife, gripping your thigh he brings the knife over to carve a little RC into the meat of your thigh. you try not to thrash around but you do let out another little scream at the pain.

"yer' all mine now kid." he smiles, exhaustion taking over as you let out shaky breaths and let him lean in to press icky kiss to your lips. ᥫ᭡

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dat1angel · 7 months

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Trans!Danny is stuck at a gala when his period starts and gets caught unprepared. Thankfully, he finds some girls willing to help him out.

~~<◇>~~

When Vlad made him heir to DALV.Co, Danny knew that he would have to go with him to social events such as the gala they were currently at. That doesn't mean he has to enjoy them though. And he especially wasn't enjoying this one. Of course he had to be in public and without supplies when his period started. So now he had to find someone he could ask for a pad, no matter how mortifying it would be.

Danny scanned the crowd, trying to figure out who would be the least snobby if he tried to talk to them. He decided on two girls about his age who were standing semi away from any large groups. With a sigh and silently grieving his ego, Danny made the walk of shame over to them.

"Excuse me?" The girls snapped to attention when Danny spoke up.

"Oh, hello there!" the blonde greeted, "I don't think I've seen you at one of these before. My names Steph and this is Cass". The dark haired girl, who he now knew as Cass, smiled and waved at him but otherwise didn't speak.

"I'm Danny, it's nice to meet you," Danny fidgeted in place and a hand came up to rub the back of his neck, "Man, there's really no way to ask this that isn't embarrassing..."

Steph regarded him with a raised eyebrow, "You aren't going to ask for our numbers, are you?".

Danny's eyes went wide and he raised his hands in a defensive manner.

"Oh ancients, no. Ah- Not to say that you aren't attractive! You are! I mean, you're both very pretty but I don't swing that way-" He's cut off by airy laughter from Steph and soft chuckles from Cass.

"Relax dude, it's okay. So, your question?"

"Would either of you have and extra pad? Or a tampon? My period started and I don't have anything with me..." Danny flushed and didn't make eye contact as he asked.

Danny nearly sobbed in relief when Cass nodded, discreetly slipped a pad out of her bag, and passed it to him. "Thank you, thank you so much!"

Cass made a 'don't worry about it' gesture and Steph smiled.

Before they could say anything else, a tall man who looked like he could bench press Danny without even breaking a sweat came and interupted.

"Hey, have either of you two seen where Dick went?" He asked the girls.

"Last I saw him was by the refreshments table," Steph informed him. Cass nodded in agreement.

"Thanks," the man said. He then turned and walked off, presumably towards the refreshments table. Danny's eyes followed him as he walked away and- Ancients, that ass! Even the layered suit couldn't hide the clear musculature that made up the mans everywhere. He could step on Danny and Danny would thank him.

Danny only realized he was staring when Steph cleared her throat, an amused look on her face.

"Ah! I wasnt- I mean- I was just-"

"Totally undressing Jason with your eyes?" Steph smirked. Danny flushed and made a hasty retreat.

"WOw, would you just look at the time! I should go uh... take care of this!" He gestured at the pad in his hand. "Yeah! I'm just gonna go."

"Come find us when you're done, we'll introduce you!" Steph called to his fleeing form.

Danny practically flew to the nearest bathroom. As soon as the door was closed he leaned against it and screamed into his hands. He completely embarrassed himself! He could never show his face again! Although...

Images of Jason flashed in his mind. Maybe he would go find those girls again... But first he needed to get this pad on!

#dpxdc #dp x dc #trans danny fenton #danny fenton #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #jason todd #dead on main #hints of it anyways #danny hates periods #which honesty? mood #he's got male parts as phantom #because a ghosts form is shaped by hiw they see themselves #but he still has to deal with them in human form #but frostbite said he might be able to use far frozen tech to do a transition surgery #so he has that going for him #danny is down bad for jason #jason so much as looks in his direction and he folds like a deck of cards #does this count as crack?

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 1 month

Note

hey i love your work so much!! i was wondering if you could do something where hotch gets lingerie for the reader. and the reader is like mmm no maybe not.. but hotch is like please just try it on to see if you like it?

reader is like ok, so they put it on and they are stilly kinda hesitant but when hotch sees them he is like star struck and… ya know shows them how pretty they are!! and he just praises the reader, maybe they do it in front of a mirror 🫣🫣

i think it would be cute, but you don’t have to write it if you don’t want, sorry if this is all over the place it was just a stream of consciousness!!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

— pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

— summary: to aaron, buying you lingerie was an act of love, to you, it was something new.

— warnings: lingerie wearing (obviously), slight body insecurity, illusions to mirrors being used for future... unsavory acts, kissing, heavy petting, praise, heavy kissing.

— wc: 745

⋆ a/n: hello hun!! i'm so glad you like my work and sorry that this isn't as detailed as you probably would have liked. funny enough i couldn't find space to fit actual smut in there, but never fear! it is still as equally spicy and fun!

masterlist | AO3

“What the fuck is that?”

Aaron held up a piece of lingerie that looked more like pieces of string and lace were sewn together than any actual cloth.

“Lingerie, honey.” He said with a deep chuckle. “And you want me to wear… that?” You questioned in disbelief. “That would be ideal, yes.”

There was a wince on your face as you continued to stare at the dark red thing. “Yeah… no. Absolutely not.” You crossed your arms. “Sweetheart, you don't even know if you won't like it.”

“No, I know I don't like it. How about you just see me naked?”

“As tempting as that sounds, I would like it very much if you were to try it on.”

Your eyes flickered from his to the bundle of lace.

Now, it wouldn't be fair to say no, because Aaron has indulged in many of your fantasies over the years, and he barely asks for anything, as well as always focuses on your pleasure. If you said no he'd drop the conversation entirely, he was never one to pressure.

You could see it in the burning of his irises that he wanted to see you in the lingerie, and he would never steer you wrong and pick something ugly. Oh God, just thinking about him going into a place like Victoria's Secret made your cheeks heat up.

With one final glance you sighed, sticking out your hand. “Fine, but I'm doing this just because I love you and… because I want to.”

He walked up and handed you it, pulling you into his side to give you a kiss on your head. “Thank you.” You just hummed before disappearing into the bathroom.

Oh you looked like a fucking clown.

You knew this would be no good. This was not flattering at all, at least in your eyes. You cringed, tugging at the straps that dug into your arms uncomfortably. You had never felt so… unsure sexually before.

“Aaron, I look ridiculous.”

“I'm sure you look great.”

“Did this thing not come with a robe?” You couldn't help but ask, because the outfit felt like it was missing something.

“It did.”

“And where might it be?”

“With me.”

“You're such a bastard.” You mumbled to yourself.

You took a deep breath to ease your nerves.

“Alright, I'm coming out, but if you laugh at me, I'm going to kill you.”

“In what world would I laugh at you?” He was right, you were being nervous and irrational and — God, you've never done this before. Was it hot in here? Were you sweating?

Stepping out of the bathroom was one thing, but Aaron staring at you speechless was a whole other can of worms.

You shifted anxiously in your spot as he approached you, his large hand cupping your cheek. His calloused thumb rubbed the hot skin of it softly.

“You look breathtaking.” His voice was strained. The other hand that wasn't cradling your face landed on your naked hip. He squeezed the fat of it, a light shiver shooting up his back at the feeling of the fat spilling through his fingers.

Your body thrums with excitement, your last hesitation slowly melting off of you.

“You think so?” You ask shyly. “I know so.” Aaron confirms with that warm, comforting voice of his. He connects your lips together and a light, surprised gasp exits your mouth. Your hands shoot-out to hold his strong biceps.

His lips molded themselves firmly onto yours, tongue exploring your mouth with desperate fervor. It was like he was trying to consume you, and a new type of fire burned in his veins. It was a rabid kind of need that threatened every part of him that was a gentleman.

You pushed away from him to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your eyes fall on the mirror hanging on the well next to where you guys are standing and you groan.

“Ugh, Aaron…” You whine in embarrassment, burying your head into his hard chest. “Don’t be ashamed of yourself, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous.” You groan in embarrassment. “Why do you have to say stuff like that?”

“Because I mean it. I love all of you.”

“You really know how to sweet talk a girl, don’t you, Hotchner?”

“As much as I like sweet talking you, I like having you in my bed more.” He locked your lips again, nosy hands massaging and gripping at the chub exposed by the two-piece.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

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cheriladycl01 · 18 days

Text

It All Happened so Fast - Grid x Ferrari Reader

Plot: Y/N has someone enter her hotel room after the grand prix and threaten to rob her, after not answering her phone, some of the drivers come to her rescue. Done in the style of a podcast/interview.

Warning: This had dark themes, of abuse, kidnapping (kind of?), SA etc

Credit to makeagif for the GIF :)

"And tonight we have Y/N with us on the podcast! And we'll be learning the truth about what happened at French Grand Prix, now that she's finally ready to speak up about what happened!" he says as you walk out, your hands were clammy from the build up of sweat on them and the lights all felt a little too bright.

"Hello, Zach how are you?" you smile to the podcaster, taking a seat in the purple studio on scotting so you were next to the cushion.

"I'm good, I'm good and how are you doing, despite everything that happened?" he asks looking over you, making sure you were okay.

"Yeah, you know I took a blow and speak to a therapist about everything but ultimately I'm back in the car and doing what I love most!" you nod, explaining how you'd not gone to the next race after the incident because of a bruised rib.

"So talk us through that day, start to finish!" he smiles and you nod, feeling safe and comforted to talk in his presence.

"It was a pretty normal day, it was just after qualifying had finished and I was celebrating with Charlie" you smile. You remembered getting your first pole position with Ferrari that year having taken over from Carlos who had made the move to Audi.

You were so happy, jumping in the arms of the crew and Fred who'd become like a father to you before finding comfort in Charles, who wasn't Charles to you but Charlie. He was your big brother around the paddock, most of them were.

"Congrats gorgeous!" he grins hugging you tightly. Alex, his girlfriend came running over, pulling you away from Charles into a big hug of her own. Alex had become like your big sister and you'd kind of become attached to her in your time in the paddock. She'd let you borrow her clothes, which Charlie didn't like as he thought they were way too mature for a young girl like you, which you'd argued against many times. You got ready with Alex in your rooms, and even travel together in the off seasons. And don't even get started on the Leclerc family who had practically adopted you after becoming Charles partner.

"Thank you Charlie! We had a great drive today! A front row lock out for us!" you cheese excitedly looking around the paddock, locking your eyes on anyone else who you could exclaim your happiness too.

"I think Lando is over there!" he smiles pointing out your paddock crush. You'd had a crush on Lando ever since he came to see you race in F2, when you started to get noticed by the likes of Ferrari and other F1 teams.

You rush over, seeing him talking to Jon and Oscar who was with his girlfriend Lily.

"Hey guys!" you grin at the two boys, and they both smile back to you, Oscar and Lily pulling you into a joint hug first and then letting go of you so Lando could kiss your cheek and pull you into a hug.

"You did amazing today!" he smirks one corner of his mouth raising and a blush coming onto your face.

You sat in the studio thinking of how Lando had made your heart flutter like crazy!

"I think after we all were celebrating qualifying with my team and everyone else we were all leaving, discussing the plans for that night" you admitted thinking back to what happened in the build up.

"Yeah, we have pictures of you here celebrating with your team-mate Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend Alexandra, Lewis and a few others" he says flicking all of the pictures he had saved of you in the paddock celebrating your qualifying result.

"So, if i've got the story right? You were invited to dinner with some of your friends correct?" he asked.

"There was talk of all of us going out that night, it was my first pole position and everyone was very proud of me and they wanted to celebrate it. Obviously, for this specific race there aren't many hotels in the area so majority of the drivers stay at the same hotel close to the track for ease. So in my hotel there was Charles, me, Daniel Ricciardo, Max Vertsappen, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz, Alex Albon, Liam Lawson, Yuki Tsunoda and Pierre Gasly and that was supposed to be the group that went out!" you offer and he looks over you.

"Supposed to be?" he asks, looking at his notepad and you nod.

"So, Alex chose the place we were going and it was sort of a bar, sort of joint... when Lando and a few others looked at the menu they didn't fancy it so Max, Daniel, Charles, Carlos, Lando and Oscar all decided to pick their own place. I didn't want the plans to change so i stayed with Alex, Lewis, George, Liam, Yuki and Pierre. By the time we got to the bar there was security out and because I was the only one under the drinking age in the states I was refused" you laugh thinking it was sort of funny.

"Wait so they said you weren't allowed into the bar because of the drinking age?" he repeats making sure he had all the information correct.

Thinking back, the whole interaction was kind of funny.

"Yeah sorry, your underage you cant go in" the security guard says handing you back your ID.

"What?" you chuckle, the security knew who you were, i mean come on you were stood in front of Lewis Hamilton.

"Sorry, bar rules" he says with a frown before nodding for Lewis to go in.

"Mate come on, look none of us are here to drink... we're all driving tomorrow and we just want to take our girl out for a celebratory meal" Lewis smiles ruffling your hair making you giggle.

"Sorry man, no is a no. Even for you" he sighs, getting bored of the groups antics and how they are holding up the line.

"No come on I'm not having this, the whole reason we are here is because of her. We arent going in if she isn't allowed!" Lewis argues before George and Liam join in.

"Alright, either you can go in without her or we're all kicking you out right now" the head of security says coming out making you sigh and grab onto Lewis' arm.

"I'm just going to go, I hope you guys have fun but I don't want you guys to not go out for food because of me!" you sigh stepping to one side.

"No Y/N! The whole reason we are out tonight is because of you!" Lewis whines a little wanting everything to be perfect.

"Well half the group already bailed and went somewhere else so it's no issue!" you giggle.

"But where will you eat!" George asks.

"Look, I'll be bad and treat myself to a Maccies, but you cant tell anyone. Especially not Joris or Maggie, they'll have my head!" you say and after a lot more convincing you were let go.

Looking back you had no idea leaving by yourself was probably the worst decision you ever made.

"So you walked back to the hotel alone, that correct?"

"Well, i got myself a McDonalds first which was hilarious because there was so many fans that spotted me in there and I think that was the start of where everything went wrong. People quickly realized where I was and that I was alone with no security or team. I took a few pictures but left for the hotel very quickly" you explain softly, loving the interactions you got with your fans that night.

"And once you were in the hotel, what were you doing?" he prompted.

"Well, I got in immediately and I actually had someone from the hotel walk up with me, I'd felt strange the whole way home and just wanted someone to make sure i got up there okay"

"And by feeling strange, like you were drunk and been spiked?" he asks with his head cocking to his side.

"Mmm no just that I didn't feel alone, even though i was. I felt like my steps were being followed but I couldn't see anything. It was dark and I thought it must just be the paranoia, but the hotel staff were so helpful and took me to my room. The two members of staff actually looked around my whole room before leaving me alone!" you say, knowing the hotel did everything in their action to make sure you were safe.

"So you got in and you ate your food I'm presuming, what did you have?" he chuckles, everyone knew how much you loved a McDonalds.

"A wrap and a cheeseburger, I know bad but I was solo celebrating!" you chuckle.

"That sounds so good right now!" he luaghs before silencing to let you continue with your story.

"After that it was getting late and I wanted to be as prepared as possible for the next day so I got into the shower, where I didn't hear the door unlatch. I just remember rinsing the shampoo out my eyes and seeing him standing there watching me!" you gulp nervously getting onto the scary bit of the story.

"He was in the bathroom already, at this point?" he asks his eyes wide.

It was scary, you'd just finished really scrubbing the sweat and helmet grease out of you hair, you rubbed your eyes making sure they wasn't anything that was going to sting them in their before opening them.

It took you by so much shock to see the black silhouette in the bathroom, you grabbed the towel hoping it was Charles or Lando, at least someone you knew. But it was him, the man that kept you in fear of hotels.

"What the fuck!" you cried wrapping the towel around you, you couldn't see his face right now, his face was covered by the steam of the shower and his black and red Ferrari cap.

He was a fan, which made you want to cry more.

"Your gonna be quiet, yes beautiful?" he asks showing you the gun on his waist band.

You nodded not wanting to aggravate him.

Before you knew it he grabbed you out the shower by your arm. Forcing you onto the sofa in your room, at this point you'd started to cry. He hit you so hard, you bruised a rib and sprained your wrist.

"I cant imagine the panic you felt" Zach sighed comfortingly as you nodded.

"Yeah, i mean there was moments where i thought, this is it, I'm not going to come out of this alive" you sighed before continuing your accounts.

He asked you the code for the safe, which you told his straight away, he started going through all of your stuff, you didn't care about the loose cash or anything else but when he pulled out the expensive Cartier necklace Lando got you for your birthday you started to sob harder.

"Please, not that!" you cry out loudly making his head flick over to you, rage on his face.

"Mmmm from your boy Lando right?" he grins evilly and you cry more.

"GET ON THE BED!" he screamed at you and you looked at him in shock.

"What?" you asked.

"Are you stupid? I said to get on the fucking bed!" he screamed out again making you whimper and cry more from the shock as you got up onto the bed, sitting on the edge.

"Fuck, I'm not even sure I want to know where this goes!" Zach sighs after taking a sip of his drink. You explain how he had started to touch you, and you were practically naked on the bed.

"I was just going to suck it up, the gun was the scariest thing and I couldn't help but think that Charles would probably be the one to come in and find me..." you admitted, knowing it was one of the scariest moments.

"It was one of those moments where you know they talk about fight flight or freeze, ask anyone and they'll tell you I fight, no matter what but I just froze because of the circumstances..." you attempt to say without messing up.

"And before stuff got to bad?" he asks.

"I had my boys to rely on" you smile softly.

Charles had the spare room key to his room, and when he, Lando Max and Daniel were coming back and heard yelling through the door, they needed to see if you were okay!

"Y/N!" you heard Charles through the door, the guy currently fondling you looked up in shock. Charles and the rest of them rushed into the room. Max was the first to throw a punch at the guy, pretty much getting him onto the floor. Charles started to cover you up while Daniel called hotel security and Lando called the police. Charles was holding onto you as you shook, sobbing and gasping for short little breaths.

"Hey hey it's okay!" Lando says seeing you and your panicked state.

"Let's get him outta here!" Daniel says kicking his shin.

"Necklace!" you gasp out, looking over Lando's eyes and he cocks his head to one side in confusion before understanding what you meant.

Lando jumped off the bed, searching the guy's pockets until he pulled your necklace out.

"Scumbag!" he'd told him as Max and Daniel hauled the guy out of your room.

Lando came back, holding you on the other side of Charles forcing you into a sort of sandwich.

"So what happened with the rest of the night?" Zach asked pulling your mind back into the studio room.

"There was a lot of crying, lot of police. I only told the police about my injuries so they could take pictures for the report. And i somehow drove the next day, still came in P1 and stood on that podium until I fainted. I was of course pulled from the next race because i'd worsened my injuries by driving... but it was worth it for the win!"

"Woah, that truly is an incredible story!" Zach smiles, pulling you into a hug which you gladly accept.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

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fraugwinska · 27 days

Note

Since your requests are open… can I request Alastor taking care of his sick wife? The crew noticed their mia and Alastor slinks away to their hotel room to find them dying (metaphorically) in their nest of blankets?

Thank you ;—; I love your writing sm! ฅ(•ㅅ•)ฅ

Whew - that was a first for me :D Switching it up for a little Alastor POV ;> I hope you like it, lovely Anon! (P.S. - The song mentioned is 'Unforgettable' by Nat King Cole)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

In Sickness and in Health

Alastor's day couldn't get better – adding another, large territory to his nicely growing collection, visiting his dear friend Rosie along the way, and now returning to his diddy hotel, full of entertainment, and with his lovely wife waiting for his return: He was in a rightfully jolly mood.

He'd left so early in the morning, letting his love sleep in deep, heavy breaths, he was wondering what she had been up to this day? On the way back, he stopped by the florist, careful not to touch the delicate, burgundy blossoms of the chrysanthemums, her favourites.

He entered the hotel to find the residents deeply engaged in another of the princess's silly bonding activities – a game of charades, as it seemed. Alastor watched them with curiosity as Angel Dust gestured wildly, while the others screamed in chaos, throwing guesses his way.

„Fuck, man, come on! I'm making it OBVIOUS here!“, Angel moaned, throwing his hands frustrated into the air.

„The hell you are – you look like you're hurlin' yo' last drink like a garden sprinkler.“, Husk replies dryly, rubbing his temples, while the girls just look confused.

„It's fucking MOTORBOATING, jesus christ on a cracker!“

The group groans, exept for Vaggie, who runs over to him and grabs the card the flamboyant spider waves around.

„It's just 'Motorboat', you idiot.“ „Potayto, Potahto.“

Alastor, having heard enough of that nonsense, closed the entrance noisily. Charlies head whipped around to see him.

„Oh, hey Alastor, you're back early.“, she chirped, ignoring the still arguing group behind her. Alastor walked over and smiled down at her. „Business went better than I expected, dear. And you all are as... aspiring as ever, I see?“ He let his gaze fall back to the group, counting – five heads. Not six. „Would you happen to know where my darling doe is?“

Charlie blinked. „Umm.“, she turned to look at the group, as if she expected her to be there. Alastors eyes narrowed as the princess asked timidly if anyone had seen her.

„Nope, not me.“ „Didn't turn up on the bar, either.“ „She missed breakfast, too“ Alastor huffed, feeling anger bubbling up in his stomach at the blatant negligence of his companions. He left Charlie and the others standing without a word, looking rightfully guilty and shouting apologies at his back. He made a mental note to plan an appropriate response to this mishap, and fastened his steps to his suite.

He knocked on the door, softly. No response. He listened intensely. „My love, are you in there?“ A quiet groan, muffled through thick wood and creaking walls, barely audible.

He opened the door his eyes searching through the dimly lit room - the curtains of the windows were still closed, just like he left them this morning.

„Alastor?“, he heard your voice, weak and tired, from inside the pile of cushions, pillows and blankets piled up on the shared bed.

He quickly set the flowers down on the bureau before he peeled layers of fabric off the built fort to reveal his precious doe – face reddened, hair damp with sweat and deep, panting in straint breaths. Her eyes opened slowly, they were watery and dull.

„Hello...“, she said, a small smile on her dried lips. „Hello, my love.“, he answered, brushing her hair out her face with timid fingers – when they touched her forehead, it was burning hot. Alastor frowned.

„You are sick, my doe....“ She hummed in response. A shiver made her pull the blankets around her closer to her. „I think I'm dying again.“ Alastor chuckled softly, cupping her cheek - heat poured from her scorching skin into his cold palms.

„Always so dramatic. No love, you're certainly not dying. Boiling yourself, maybe. You have a raging fever, sweet thing.“

„Potayto, Potahto...“, she murmured. Alastor scrunched his nose – Angel Dust certainly had a bad influence on his wife.

„Now, now, no reason to call for the mortician, love. Let's get you out of these dampened clothes for a start, shall we?“

She whined from the coldness he exposed her to, grabbing his arms as he pulled her out of the many layers of fabric and peeled the sweat-drenched clothes from her burning body. Her usually smooth and tender skin was colored in angered flushes of read, mimicking the blazing temperature she radiated. While he worked on getting her in fresh, clean pajamas, he murmured soft reassurances and sweet words of comfort to her.

Alastor knew she hated the feeling of helplessness a sickness brought with it. Her demise had been sudden, painful and most importantly lonely, having no one by her side while the disease had eaten her alive.

He placed her back into bed, a snap of his fingers had disassembled the abhorrent nest she had built, linens clean, soft and dry. She whimpered when he opened the windows to let some fresh air into the room, but sighed in sweet relief when the cold cloth he conjured for her cooled her forehead.

“Can you play something for me?”, she whispered after he had convinced her to drink some water, her lids heavy and almost out of consciousness.

Alastor brushed her cheeks tenderly.

“Of course my treasured girl.”

He pulled the chair from his bureau next to the bed, settling down with her hand in his. He chose the song carefully – it was the one she and him first danced to, when he and her were two singulars still, instead of one plural.

The soft tunes of the celeste and piano drove the dreadful, deafening silence out of the room, and when Nat King Coles voice started to serenade, her face relaxed into a serene smile, breaths flattening into calm draws of air.

Alastor watched his wife drift into healing slumber, her skin color already fading into her more normal shade. Relieved, he stroked his thumb delicately over her fingers, still safely wound around his. Yes. Alastor knew she hated the helplessness a sickness brought with it. But at least, this time, he could be there to guide her through it.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #charlie morningstar #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel vaggie #fraugwinskawrites #quick fic

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luveline · 8 months

Note

if you’re not sick of the fainting fics yet would you write one with sirius? have a good day gorgeous <3

thank you for your request! i hope you have a good day too ♡ fem!reader

"Hey, sweet girl," Sirius says. A saccharine pet name said rather simply, smoke blown from either corner of his mouth. "You okay?"

You shrug your shoulders. Sirius sits in the shade, the dusk sunlight kissing the rubber toes of his shoes where he's laid his legs out over the steps into the house. "Did James finish my juice?"

Sirius scratches his eyebrow, weary not to burn himself with the cigarette held between his index and middle finger. Smoky whorls chase up the side of his face. "Uh, no, but Remus' boyfriend might have thinking it was his. Remus said he'll buy you two to replace it."

"I don't mind. Just. Think I might need the sugar."

Sirius squints at you, stubbing his cigarette out hurriedly against the stone steps and standing up. He's in sweats and one of your old t-shirts, blue hair dye staining up the left side like a superheated flame. "You still not feeling well?" he asks.

You offer your hand for holding. Sirius takes it, using the other to angle your face up toward the porch light.

"Say?" he murmurs, prompting you when you don't answer.

"I feel wobbly, Siri. Like I could faint. I know I won't, but I still feel rough," you say.

Sirius looks about as alarmed as a person can get, pulling you up the steps to the house he shares with his mates and down the hallway. "Not having that," he says as he goes, rubbing your cold fingers. "Don't worry. You'll feel better after some dinner. Let me make you a quick crumpet or something. Piece of toast?"

"I can wait until later on."

He drops your hand in favour of cupping your cheek. "No. Try and have something, my love. I have a bit of soreen here," —he turns away from you to rummage through the bread cupboard— "thick layer of butter and you'll be right."

You blink against a strange feeling, but it isn't something you can shuck off. A weight gathers in your hands and your knees go weak, and you think, Oh, I'm actually going to faint.

You manage to put your hands behind you and crumple that way, onto your bum rather than forward into Sirius' back. Your head clips a cupboard door and Sirius spins on the spot, soreen falling in a hurricane of crumbs by your leg.

"Fuck," he says, on his knees in an instant. You slouch unbidden, and you don't recall passing out, but one moment you're unfurling like a pill bug and the next you've been pulled flat onto your back. Sirius looks down at you in a panic. "Woah, hello. Don't do that again, yeah?"

"I don't think she really had a choice, mate."

You squint across the kitchen at James, one of Sirius' best friends and roommates. He approaches with a pillow from the lounge, dropping it by your head. "Get your head on that, babe," he says.

Sirius lifts your head onto the pillow, scowling. "Fucking christ. You need to keep me informed when you're about to go sledding across the kitchen, my love," he says. "We could've sat down. Had a breather."

"I didn't really know," you mumble. "My legs hurt."

"You're supposed to elevate them," James says. "Get your blood flowing more to your brain."

"Lift her legs then, James."

"She's your bird."

"I'm busy," Sirius says crossly, his hands tucked up by your neck. He turns away from James to give you his full attention, his incredulousness melding to a soft, sad worry. "What's the matter with you? I could've caught you if you'd said." He turns your face from the side. "Just take it easy for a bit, yeah? Do you feel tired?"

James sighs and grabs your legs to hoist in the air. You're too lethargic to fluster, though you gasp when your back starts to lift from the floor.

"James, you prick, don't deadlift her," Sirius scolds. His tone switches as soon as he meets your eyes. "You're alright," he says, thumbing along your jaw. "You'll be fine."

"This is too much fuss," you say breathlessly.

Sirius takes a deep, heaving breath. "Feel my heart," he says, holding your hand to his chest. "Feel that? You scared the fuck out of me. This is the correct amount of fuss."

He and James keep you there until Remus comes home with a two litre carton of orange juice to save you. "I think half an hour will do it," Remus says, all the tone of an eye roll without the action. "Get the poor girl off the floor. She has crumbs in her hair."

Sirius arranges you on the sofa, though really you're in his lap, James absconded for a rescue takeaway and Remus hoovering up the exploded soreen from the sounds of it. "Good thing you're poorly," Sirius says, smoothing your hair back to kiss your cheek. "I hate hoovering."

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #marauders era #marauders #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #the marauders #sirius orion black

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verstappen-cult · 1 month

Note

Hello!!! First of all, I'm obsessed with your blog secondly I wanted to request something with Charles in which one of his friends pranks him with aphrodisiac chocolates, and he and the reader eat some of them 🫣 and the rest is up to you honestly you can ignore this if you want

The first thing you notice when you leave the grocery bag on the kitchen is an opened chocolate box.

Charles should’ve known better than to leave it there knowing how much you like chocolate. And you know he wouldn’t mind, so, you take one.

“Lando! For fucks sake you are not listening to me!” Charles' voice comes from his bedroom and you can hear the frustration in it.

You take the chocolate box with you as you make your way over to him.

Charles is pacing around his room, hand on his hips as he keeps yelling at Lando, who just laughs at him.

“Why is Lando making fun of you?” You ask, making your presence known. Charles turns around just in time to see you taking another chocolate into your mouth.

“What are you doing?!” Charles takes two long strides toward you and takes the box away, throwing it in the trash.

“Hey, I was eating those!”

“Oh my God, don’t tell me Y/N ate the chocolates too.” You're pretty sure Lando’s trying not to laugh while also sounding a little bit worried.

“What do you think, genius?” Charles rubs his face, defeated.

“I’m sorry, mate. I didn’t think—well, if you think about it, it’s good because now you’ll finally make a mov—”

Charles hangs up before Lando has time to finish. He throws the phone on his bed, groaning.

“If you didn’t want me eating your chocolates you could’ve just said so.” You shrug, looking at the trash.

“It’s not that,” He looks up at you and for the first time you notice that he’s sweating, face flushed. “they were special chocolates.”

“Oh,” You try not to show the disappointment in your voice. “a girl gave them to you! I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that, I just saw them and—”

“No, not that kind of special.” He’s quick to stop your mind from reeling with unwanted thoughts.

You tilt your head, not understanding what other kinds of special chocolates could be, when you feel a warmth wash over your body, and suddenly you feel like you’re wearing too many clothes.

“God, why is it so hot in here?” You take your sweater and sneakers off.

“What are you doing?” Charles sounds like he’s in pain. You see him take a few steps back, putting some distance between you two.

Charles’ hair is messy and he’s wearing that shirt you gifted him last Christmas. You never realized how good it looks on him before. Why didn’t you notice?

“I’m burning up,” You whine, grabbing your shirt to take it off. “What? It’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bra before.”

“You need to go,” He rushes to grab your clothes, but you don’t move. “I’ll leave you a glass of water—just go to your room.”

“Charles, what the hell is happening?”

He sighs, letting his head fall forward. He needs to tell you. “Lando thought it would be fun to give me special chocolates,” He can’t say the words out loud, he just can’t. You still don’t understand, so he simply looks at you and then down. You follow his gaze only to find that there’s a bulge in his pants.

You choke on your own spit, realization crossing your mind.

The air feels thick with tension and the eye contact is so intense you feel something weird pooling in the pitch of your stomach. And then there are mouths crashing against each other and hands all over your body as you fall onto the bed.

Lando definitely doesn’t need to know that he did you and Charles a favor.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you

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gyuzgrl · 2 months

Text

Sweat for me ||kmg||

Summary- Mingyu's hot. You're hot. Surely a night alone at the gym, sweating and panting together, would sit with you just fine, right?

Mingyu's body is undeniably sculpted. Everyone knew that. What they didn't know, however, is that his impressive physique was all thanks to you- his workout partner. Had it not been for you, he would've lost all his motivation to hit the gym in the first place. After all, who doesn't want to get hot and sweaty with a pretty girl like yourself?

For over a year now, you and him had met up almost every day at 9 am sharp, outside your company-provided dorm. He'd have his car parked in front of your building, waiting outside your door as you invited him in for a quick protein shake. You'd chat over 'breakfast' for a bit, gossiping about the employees and your co-workers, sometimes even indulging in a bit of harmless flirting as you spoke. (not harmless, you had fallen hopelessly in love with him)

Today wasn't going to be any different, you thought. That was, of course, until your phone rang beside you, lighting up with his contact name instantly.

"hello?"

"hey," he breathed, his tone somewhat troubled.

"what's wrong gyu? "

You were worried. He never called at night. Hell, as idols that's when you worked the most- practicing in the dance studio or in the recording room until you saw the sun creeping up around you and finally decided to head back home.

"nothing I just- I need a distraction and I was wondering if you wanted to workout"

"hm? yeah okay I'm in the studio right now, I'll be up in ten," you sighed "tell me what happened?"

"yeah," he whispered. "I'll tell you"

Hanging up, you gathered your things, shoving your notepad and pens into your bag as you headed to your locker. Luckily, you had a spare set of gym clothes which you changed into quickly, mind running over all the possibilities as to what could've gone so wrong to have Mingyu this upset. Either way, you were on your way to see him, hair tied into a neat high ponytail, in your white gym set- a sports bra and some biker shorts that hugged you in all the right places.

Trembling slightly, you opened the glass door to the gym, unsure why you felt this shaky. You'd met him a million times before.

Fuck it was just Mingyu. The guy who eats all your food and picks you up every morning. The guy who whines about how tired he is and how his body aches from all that dancing. The guy who eyes you up and down wordlessly whenever he sees you, tensing his jaw as if to contain something.

Hold on- what?

It was late. Too late for any other Hybe artist to be working out at the gym. Too late for your trainer to oversee your progress. Too late for you and Mingyu to be alone like this.

He spotted you right away, eyes lighting up instantly.

"you came" he said, his voice so gentle it made you weak.

"you called," you whispered under your breath, but he seemed to have caught what you said. You noticed this and instantly moved to cover up any traces of what you said.

"let's uh, let's get down to business, shall we?" your voice filled the suspiciously short silence, "what's the matter gyu?"

He let out an airy laugh, sounding almost exasperated.

"my stupid manager's on my ass again about posting on Instagram."

You let him continue, nodding along as you guided him to sit on one of the benches behind.

"he wants me to post, for the lack of a better word, sluttier pics. like abs and arms and all. apparently, the fans love it and we kinda need to do well with this comeback. he's even considering having me go shirtless- completely on display in the upcoming music video." He sounded tired. So tired.

"he's really throwing you out to the wolves, huh," you patted his thigh sympathetically, "I get how that could make you uncomfortable... it really sucks how people treat you like something to be ogled at just because you're hot"

You pause. He quirks a brow.

"I mean uh, because they think you're hot" you blurt, internally cursing yourself for opening your stupid mouth.

He's quiet for a second before a slight smile plays at his lips- god his lips are gorgeous.

"what about you," he leans into your face, just inches away, "do you think I'm hot?"

"what? yes- I mean no- I mean yeah? no." you stutter, "uh, not rea-"

His laughter cuts you off, and you want nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole.

"cute" he mutters, "do you wanna get started? I'm not upset anymore but there's so much... pent-up energy, you know?"

His tone takes on a sultry note as he says that last bit, and you take a sharp breath in. You agree wordlessly and head over to stretch.

"I'm already done cause I just got done with dance rehearsals, but I can help stretch you out, hm?"

You freeze momentarily, unsure of what you'd just heard. God your mind was taking a filthy, filthy turn.

Mingyu isn't stupid. He's aware of what his words mean. But seeing you all flustered gets him so riled up, he can't help it.

"y-yeah, you can help me stretch gyu"

Cringing at how you stuttered, you grab a yoga mat and unfurl it onto the wooden floor.

"let's maybe try something new today, yeah?"

He stands behind you, arms resting on your hips, as he pushes your thighs back- straightening them against his own.

"try to touch the mat" he says gently, one hand leaving your thigh to place light pressure on your back.

You thanked your lucky stars you were flexible, cause the lower you went, the more your ass pushed into his groin. He didn't seem to mind it either, with the way he kept pushing, till your palms touched the spongy surface of the mat.

Trying to stand up, you were met with a firm hand holding you in place. A surprised 'hm?' leaves your lips, and he grins at you, the handsome devil.

"hold" he whispered, staring at your perfectly bent form in the mirror up ahead. This position looked unnecessarily sexual- like he was taking you from behind, for all the world to see. You thanked the universe for leaving the gym empty, and wordlessly stayed in place, pushing yourself closer into him.

"10, 9, 8..." he counted, going painfully slow, gritting his teeth.

"...3, 2..."

You waited eagerly for the last number, thighs tensing under his touch, tightening with the stretch, but it never came.

"mingyu-" you start, but it comes out a little more strained and desperate than usual. Your face goes red.

"what was that?"

You kept your mouth shut, not trusting your vocal chords to hold their own in this... sticky situation.

"we're done, I think you're good, you seem uh, flexible enough"

Your head spins as he lifts you back up, pressing your back flush against his chest. His breath tickles the top of your ear- oh my god he's teasing you.

Not wanting to give in so easily, you stepped away and grinned at him.

"what's first on the list?"

"bench press," he says.

"yes sir," you smile, dropping in the honorific to test the waters.

And boy, oh boy are they tested.

Mingyu feels his cock twitch at your words, the length pushing against his boxers ready for action. Clenching his jaw, he follows you to the bench, lying down on the cool black leather after setting his weights on either side. He lifted heavy. That was for sure. You could barely deadlift what he pressed, but the variation in strength turned you on in a way you couldn't even comprehend.

"don't let me die" he usually says, before he starts his set, but tonight, his words are a little different.

"you'll kill me if you keep staring like that"

That alone is enough to snap you out of your trance, and you realize that you've been staring daggers into him, thinking about how strong he is.

"like what?" you grin, steadying yourself behind him.

He huffs, glaring up at you, and starts lifting the bar up above his head.

Your eyes are trained on him, ready to offer support when he's at his limit. The first few movements come easy to him, and you begin to wonder if he's already ready to press even more. His arms tense deliciously under the weight of the bar, and you observe his veins popping out along his forearm and on the back of his hand. Damn him and those beautiful, thick arms.

You couldn't help but notice his fingers too- how thick and long they were, how they curled around the bar so easily, how they'd fill you up so good if you just let him.

Licking your lips, you gaze back down at him.

He groans as he pushes the bar up, arms tensing even more now. The sound he makes is undeniably sexy. From the back of his throat, from deep within his chest. You feel your panties dampen in response and you swallow thickly, now somewhat nervous about the whole ordeal.

Fuck, you've barely even begun.

Another groan from him sends your mind ablaze with images of him hovering above you, holding his weight on those sturdy arms as he pounds into you relentlessly, making the same sounds he made just now. Your cheeks feel hot. Your body feels hot.

Fucking hell, he's hot.

Looking up at you, Mingyu seems to take notice of the way your face is already so flushed. He smirks, placing the bar back up, and lifts himself off of the seat.

"your turn, doll" he says, his voice breathy and low.

You're so taken aback by how quickly he's done, that you can barely process the pet name he's used. Sure, he calls you angel and darling and sweetheart and doll and everything under the sun on any normal day, and sure, they sent butterflies fluttering around your insides on any normal day, but this- this for some reason made its way straight down to your pussy.

Your core ached for him.

"huh? my turn? yeah my, my turn"

He stifled a laugh and brought your weights over, replacing his own.

"thanks gyu"

"alright, bring it up," he instructed, staring down at you.

Your arms gave out after the eleventh circuit, and you let out a forced breath, alerting his attention.

"c'mon doll, gimme four more," he soothed, "you can do it, I know you can"

His hands hovered under your aching elbows, as he applied the tiniest bit of pressure to help you.

"mingyu I can't-" you whimpered, "it's too much"

His eyes flashed over with desire before he caught himself and shook his head sternly.

"I've got you, okay? Just a bit more"

You whimpered your way through the last three, and by the end of it, you could barely feel your arms.

The gym was still empty, save for the two of you. The staff had left, and the idols were either lost in dance rehearsals or at home. You had the place all to yourselves. That, coupled with the fact that it was painfully clear that you and he both desired each other, made it hard for you to prevent yourself from soaking through your panties.

Mingyu did two more rounds, which you continued to assist, and you worked on glutes after.

He happened to notice that your posture was off when you were squatting- probably because of how sore your arms were, and without hesitating, his hands made their way once more to your hips.

"what are you-"

"you can go lower, can't you?" he rasped, his grip firm as ever, "and you can keep that back straight too."

You nodded, barely suppressing the whimper that threatened to spill out of your mouth.

"as pretty as it looks arched, I'd rather you didn't hurt yourself, hm?"

You were at your limit. Your mind went blank, and the dampness between your legs spread to your inner thighs. Praying that it wouldn't show through your white bottoms, you squatted down again, with his hands on you, hips following wherever he guided them.

"there we go" he whispered, dangerously close to your neck.

Your body shuddered, goosebumps trailing along all over your skin, and finally, finally, he seemed to acknowledge your state.

"are you cold?" he teased, knowing damn well you were boiling away inside.

You shook your head and stepped away, letting his touch linger on your waist for a second too long.

Eyes burning with red-hot desire, Mingyu stared you down in the mirror, watching your every move. The flush of your cheeks was a telltale sign of how flustered you were, and the goosebumps told him of the effect he had on you. The avoidant, wordless behaviour though, he was confused by.

He knew how he felt from the moment he saw you. Gorgeous as you were, you were fucking fiery too. That smart mouth of yours has kept him up at night for god knows how long, and finally, he intended to do something about it. Your feelings for him grew clear as day over time, and he made it his goal to worship you. But tonight, you seemed so... hesitant. It took him by surprise. Almost as if he was expecting you to crumble and give in instantly.

"y/n,"

Your shoulders tensed as he called your name from across the room, nervousness painfully evident in your stance.

"was it too much?" he asked.

"no, I just- I'm just feeling kinda tense, is all"

You waved him off, turning away to turn off the lights as you left.

He stalked his way behind you, just as the room went dark, and placed his firm hands on your shoulders.

"this any better?" he asked, the low timbre of his voice vibrating along your ear and neck as he massaged soothing circles into the tight muscles of your back.

Fuck it felt good. So good.

"mhm," was all you could manage in response, as you bit back a moan- albeit unsuccessfully- when he pressed harder into your skin.

There you were, shrouded in darkness, sighing and moaning into the open air helplessly as his hands worked their magic into your back. They traveled up to your neck, soothing the spot right below where your hair ended, and instantly your hand shot up to your mouth, muffling a moan that you're sure he's heard.

His fingers halt for a second, and something snaps in him.

"don't you dare hide those pretty sounds from me"

Your pussy flutters at his words, clenching down again, unfortunately, around nothing.

"please-" you whimper, unable to hold yourself together any longer.

The arousal sopping through your shorts was unbearable. He turned you around to face him, his eyes darkening by the second. Unable to hold his gaze, you lower your head, opting instead to look at his chest.

"please?"

Hooking a long digit under your chin, he tilted your head up towards him once again. The sheer intensity of his stare left you aching for him. Need filled you like water, and your breathing turned shallow.

"what do you want, doll?" his voice is smooth and sultry.

A pathetic whimper leaves your lips, and the corners of his curl up into a teasing smirk. He knew what you wanted. Him. But god did he yearn to hear you say it.

"c'mon angel, where'd that smart mouth go? always fucking bossing me around, saying whatever you want, like nothing could ever faze you- but here we are. I've barely even touched you and you look this fucking spent already- jesus"

"I-" you started, chest heaving at his words, "fuck Mingyu please just- God please touch me"

He licks his lips, the same shit-eating grin plastered on that beautiful face of his, and tilts his head.

"there we go, sweetheart... all you had to do was ask,"

He inches closer, stepping forward tantalizingly slow- like he's teasing to see if you can hold out. With each step, your eyes gloss over with desire, with lust, and you want nothing more than to lunge at him and suck deep red marks all over his gorgeous physique.

You whine when he bends down, teasing you with a soft kiss on your nose, and another on the corner of your mouth. Just as you were ready to complain and demand that he kiss you straight, he slips a hand to cup the side of your face, thumb locked on your temple while the other digits secure themselves in your hair, and kisses you nice and slow.

You're frozen for a second, unable to process the gentle need in the way his lips moved against your own- so tender yet so deep, it could almost pass off as a confession of love. You don't let yourself get too wrapped up in the thought, trying not to get ahead of yourself. For all you knew, he was just horny and in need of a quick fuck.

"hey" his voice is soft, like he can hear your thoughts, and you want nothing more than for him to kiss you again.

"hi" you whisper, breathlessly.

"let's get you home, yeah?"

He pats your head, smoothing out the disheveled strands, and kisses your forehead. You're at a loss for words, once again, as his actions take you by surprise. You thought this would end with you and him fucking on one of the benches or on the floor, but he was taking you home?

"do you not want me?" your voice is small. It pulls at his heartstrings painfully so and his expression softens.

"I want you more than anything. I mean it. But not like this."

The slight furrow in your brows makes it easy for him to read your confusion, and he continues.

"I want to worship you. Properly. This is no place for that, don't you agree?"

This man isn't real. He can't be, come on. There's no way he looks that good, talks the way he does, AND wants to what- "worship" you? Your mind reels with the weight of his words, and for a second, you let yourself slip into the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he feels for you the way you do him.

Maybe, he's in love.

A year of 'friendship' will do that to a girl...

"gyu I-"

"let's talk at home, okay doll?"

You nod dumbly and let him lead you outside to his car.

You'd been in here a countless number of times, but now? With the faint glow of the moon on his sweaty skin and the desperation in his eyes, as he rushed to get you home, you're on top of the world.

His hand reaches over to squeeze your thigh when he sees it bounce up and down, reassuring you instantly to soothe that burning mind of yours. When you look over, you his side profile- illegally handsome, by the way- and sigh. 'This is nice' you think to yourself, letting go, letting yourself be loved however he shows it.

A few minutes pass, his hand leaves occasionally to change gears, but always finds its way back, inching higher and higher each time. Daringly you shift forward and his fingers graze the space between your legs, which earns a sharp groan on his end.

"I can feel it through your shorts goddamnit" he grits, sliding his fingers all over, cupping your pussy through the fabric.

He sucks in a deep breath, releasing it shakily, and mutters a quick "thank god" when he pulls into your apartment. He yanks his seatbelt off, running over to your side of the car, before opening your door and scooping you into his arms- bridal style.

You yelp, but he quickly silences it with a kiss, kicking the door closed as he clicks on the lock.

"put me down" you giggle, snuggling into his chest like a puppy does with its favorite human. He rolls his eyes and pulls you closer, protectively, and carries you into the elevator.

The familiar ding hits your ears and he steps out still carrying you- and walks over to your door.

"keys" he groans, "I need the keys"

"they're in my pocket"

"no problemo"

His hand slides from under your knee to the curve of your ass, feeling around for something sharp, unable to find any such object.

"they're not here"

"check again"

And his hand begins it's search, cupping and squeezing your ass, earning a short-breathed chuckle from you.

"doll, they're not-"

He stops when he sees the playful grin on your face as you dangle a set of keys in front of his eyes.

"naughty fucking girl you are" he scoffs, hoisting you up again as he unlocks the door.

You're in. Inside the house. At night. Alone with Mingyu.

Suddenly everything becomes real, and you look at him, smiling down at you softly.

"are you sure about this?" you ask him, meekly.

"hey, that's my line"

You laugh, smacking his chest and let him carry you to the bedroom. The fact that he already knew his way around made you blush, funnily enough. The familiarity made this feel like you were his and he was yours already.

He placed you on your bed, delicately like you were going to break if he wasn't careful. His eyes ran over your body shamelessly, but the look he adorned was that of pure adoration and awe. It made you nervous.

"you'll kill me if you keep staring like that," you say, teasing him slightly, recalling the comment he made at the gym.

"like what" he grins, and you feel a smile tug at your lips.

He kneels in front of the bed and slips off your sneakers one by one, deft fingers untying the intricate knots on the surface. As he slid them off he made sure to graze his fingertips against the sensitive skin of your ankle ever-so-slightly, leaving goosebumps in the path they traveled. Once they were off, he tossed them aside, looking intensely at you to gauge your emotions.

The breathlessness evident on your face was validation enough, and he continued.

Taking hold of one of your feet, he presses light, feathery kisses on your inner ankle, while his other hand reaches up to interlock your fingers with his. Relishing in the way your breath hitches when his lips connect with the neglected skin, he places one last soft kiss before crawling onto the bed, slowly, teasing you knowing damn well how badly you need him.

The movements are slow but intentional, each motion bringing him closer and closer, until he hovers over you, caging your body under his.

"god you're beautiful" he blurts, unable to control himself. You turn away bashfully, only to have your face tipped back towards his.

"don't hide," your expression softened at his words, "not from me, okay angel?"

A smile plays at your lips and you pull him in by the collar of his shirt, locking lips once again. He groans into your mouth as your hands roam the broad surface of his back, nails digging into the grooves of his sculpted muscles.

"fuck let's get this off, yeah?"

Slowly, fuck he's such a tease, he lifted your sports bra off, 'accidentally' running his thumbs over your nipples as he did.

Your body jolts at the sudden stimulation, pleasure running down your spine like electricity. The breaths you didn't realize you were taking for granted all this while suddenly seemed laborious under his touch, and your mouth slipped open to ease your lungs. Sweet, sweet oxygen. The burning in your lungs seems to cool for a second, and you sigh.

"gyu" you mumble, watching him toss the cloth aside.

His gaze, now back on you, falters when he sees your bare chest. Brows scrunching slightly in the middle, he takes in a shaky breath as his limbs carry him to you as if under some sort of spell.

"oh my god" he breathes, "oh my fucking god- you'll be the death of me"

Feverishly, his hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts in his large hands. He kneads them, climbing back on top of you to capture your lips in his once again. A soft moan escapes you when he tugs your lower lip, nipping at the tender flesh, quickly slipping his tongue into your mouth. He was a rapper. Obviously, he's good with that damn tongue of his. You hated how your core tightened from just kissing alone- fuck if he continued you'd probably cum right then and there, moaning into his mouth as he swallows up your sounds greedily.

"mmm fuck"

Your back arches when he moves his lips to your jaw, trailing kisses up to your ear before he whispers-

"what do you want from me"

"you know what I want from you"

"do I?" he teased, gently grazing his teeth along the shell of your ear.

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, a dull thud sounding over and over, a familiar song you heard long ago. His lips press soft kisses where his teeth left off, and you could swear this was the end for you. Mingyu seemed so aware, so present in the moment, it made your heart swell. It's been a while since you felt this way, hell you aren't sure if you've ever felt this way...

"sweetheart?"

You look up at him, hovering above you as he holds his weight on those gorgeous arms of his.

"you alright?"

"m perfect," you slur, "feel so good right now"

"damn right you are- so fucking perfect for me"

He kisses you deeply, with passion, with hunger, and you whine louder than anticipated, turning red instantly. Your ears and cheeks heat up, embarrassment painted across your pretty face. Mingyu seems far too pleased with himself.

"oh, angel, don't- fuck you're so cute like this"

You shut your eyes tight and shake your head, still glaringly red. He sighs, lips curling at the corners.

The fucker was smirking.

"how about I stop teasing, hm? I think you've been good"

"mhm" you nod desperately.

"say it. use your words," his voice is assertive and low, dangerously so, "you've been a good girl for me so far, haven't you doll?"

A moan slips past your lips at his words, and you nod again, mind swiped of any other thought.

"I- fuck, I've been- good" you choke out, chest heaving even though he has yet to touch you.

"that's it, that's my girl"

The bed dips to the side, and you feel his weight leaving the mattress. Walking back to your feet, he kneels again, hooking his arms under your thighs to pull off the remaining athleisure. All you had left were white lace panties, a tiny, tiny, bit of fabric preserving your dignity. He groans at the sight- you had soaked through them completely, arousal coating your inner thighs.

"so fucking wet for me," he mumbles into your thigh, biting down to stifle a groan you suspect he'd been holding back for far too long.

"you like it that much when I call you that? when I call you a good girl?"

"please"

"please?" he echoes.

"please" you say, a little louder, desperation so evident the blind could see it.

Mingyu laughs, clearly pleased with the state you're in.

"so fucking pretty when you beg"

"mingy-oh my god-"

Without warning, he licks a stripe up your clothed sex, and the feeling sends you yearning for more right away. He eases your underwear off, shoving them into his back pocket, and dives right in.

No one has ever made you feel this way before. Not a fucking soul.

The way his lips cradled your sensitive bud, tongue flicking up and down- gentle, but firm- drove you insane. Your mouth hung open, sharp breaths leaving unevenly. His tongue felt fucking electric. Like he knew your body better than you did yourself. A couple minutes in and you can already feel an orgasm building deep in your stomach, a wave of heat ready to crash.

"m-more," you stutter, "please"

"would this be okay?" he asks innocently, detaching himself for a second to show you his thick, veiny hands.

Before you can agree, he slips a digit into you, tongue returning to your sensitive clit right away. His finger coils up inside you, reaching for the spot you'd like most.

It shouldn't surprise you how easily and quickly he finds it, pressing up immediately, but it does. A choked moan leaves your throat, the loudest one thus far, and your eyes shoot down to his in shock.

"how-"

"I know my way 'round here doll, I own this after all, don't I?"

His words are just enough to send you over the edge, and you tremble as he continues to finger you, helping you ride the wave till you stop spasming.

"so g- fuck you feel so good"

He slips his finger out, bringing it to his lips to lap up your juices. The sight of his tongue darting over his fingers has you whimpering pathetically, in need of something more already. Drinking in the sight of him on his knees for you, you soon realize something. His clothes were still on.

"wanna see you" you mumble, "please"

In a swift motion, his shirt's off and his toned torso is on complete display. The deep divots of his abs have you drooling and you find yourself wanting to bite into them and claim him as your own.

"so you do think I'm hot" he smirks as he gauges your reaction.

"get over yourself ugh"

"not when I've got a fucking goddess in bed with me"

"shut up" you roll your eyes. His eyes narrow at you, slight aggression in his tone-

"yeah, I'm gonna have to fuck that attitude out of you. right fucking now."

You reach out to feel his abs but he smacks your hand away, smirking slyly. He runs his hand down his chiseled body, and god you wish those were your hands touching him. The upward quirk of his lips told you that he knew how badly you wanted to touch him. He knew the effect his body had on you.

"can't touch me yet baby," he smirked lazily, "gotta earn it- gotta prove to me how good you can be, hm? gotta take this thick fucking cock like a good little slut- you can do that for me, can't you doll?"

You whimpered, spreading your legs for him greedily and he moans at the sight. Your sopping folds were on display, only for him to see. All of you was on display only for him to see.

"that's it- so fucking needy" He shoved off his sweats.

Breathing heavily, he crawled over you, slow like an animal stalking his prey. The tip of his cock peeked out of his boxers and your mouth watered at the sight, waiting eagerly to see it in all its glory.

He laughed dryly at your reaction. He found you so damn cute. All needy and cock drunk for him. Him alone.

His boxers were soon pushed off, hardened cock springing free right away.

Shit.

He was huge. Thick and veiny and long- fuck so long he'd be able to kiss your cervix right away. Unable to tear your gaze away from it, you bit your lip in anticipation, a mixture of fear and excitement flashing through your bright eyes.

"h- you're so big," you whispered, "so fucking big-"

He grins, sadistically almost.

"that pretty pussy of yours will make room for me though, won't it?" You gasp. Of course, it will, fuck you'd do anything for him. Anything.

"anything for you- anything to feel you in me"

Those words of yours seem to be it for him, and he holds his cock in his hand, slapping it against your clit so you feel his weight.

"this?" he prods, "you want this in you angel?"

Yes. God yes. Your body screams, aches for him. You fucking need this. You need him. Your mind clouds with lust, and you chant his name like a prayer. How badly you needed him- needed his cock to fill you up real good. Fuck if he would just get on with it and stop teasing already, you were so wet for him.

Your prayers are answered, when you feel his tip slide in, slowly, stretching you out in a way no man ever has before. Your pussy tightens as he fills you so deliciously. Locking your eyes onto the way he slid into your pussy, you moaned when you realized that he wasn't even halfway in yet. How you were going to accommodate for his sheer size was beyond you, but god did you feel good with every inch he sunk further.

"min-gy- oh my god" you shuddered, already feeling your stomach tighten when all he'd done was ease himself into you.

"fuck I'm not even all the way in yet" he groans at the way you clench around him.

"please-" Your voice is hoarse and loud.

You grab onto his arm, digging your nails into the hard flesh. Those were leaving marks, for sure.

"more, gyu please"

"fuck," he shivered, bottoming out right away as your back arched under him, "two taps on my thigh if you want me to stop, okay?"

You nod, squirming under him as he starts to move. His thrusts are slower than you expected, but god are they powerful. You'd always expected him to be a hard and fast kind of guy but evidently, he likes to take his fucking time. The bed shook with each thrust, quivering under him just the way you were. The thick, hard vein running along the underside of his cock rubs against your walls so good, you feel your eyes glass over.

"cock's so good it has you crying? hm?" he grunts out, thrusting upward into you, as he leans back into you for a kiss.

His eyes fluttered shut as your lips connected, and he licked at the seam of your mouth for entrance. Glad to oblige, you open up, a moan slipping out before he muffles it with his tongue. He explored the hollow of your mouth, trailing over your tongue like a man starved. You'd stopped breathing for a bit, completely captured by the way he flooded your senses.

His mouth was on your own, dick still thrusting away inside you, chest heaving against yours- he was everywhere.

A hand made its way down to your clit, thumbing tight circles into the oversensitive nub. You moaned, your own hand chasing his to hold his wrist in place. He let out a shallow groan, feeling the way you clamped down around him right away.

"fuck" he rasped, "that's- fuck you're good, so good for me angel" His hips stuttered, cock twitching inside you, and your walls tightened further, ready for release.

"ca-n I cum," you begged, tears pricking at your eyes as his gaze locked onto you, "please gyu"

"cum on my cock doll, fuck, I'm so close- so close you feel so fucking good"

You squeeze him, coming undone at his words, moans dripping past your lips uncontrollably as your back arched- spine tingling from the pleasure.

He followed soon after, pulling out just as he came, hot white ropes shooting out over your stomach. The noises he made were borderline pornographic- the most perfect, erotic groans you'd ever heard, and you could've sworn you heard him whimper just after he pulled out. His body slumped beside yours, arm draped around your waist.

A minute passed in silence. All you could hear was his steadying breath as he tried to regain his composure. You sighed, holding onto the arm around you.

"fuck"

"fuck," he echoed, sighing satisfactorily "c'mere let's get you cleaned up angel"

Gently, he scooped you up in his arms, carrying you so tenderly you could melt. He made his way over to the bathroom, setting you down at the side of the tub as he ran you a bath. While the tub took its time filling up, Mingyu snagged a soft hand towel from your rack and ran it under the tap before wiping you down with the warm cloth. His actions were wordless, save for a few compliments he threw your way seeing how you shone under his touch.

His eyes, however, spoke a language of their own, the string connecting your gaze and his staying taut constantly.

'I love you.' they seemed to be saying, louder and louder despite his silence. There was a desperation in those eyes you couldn't seem to place. A longing.

Your bath was ready. Mingyu shut off the water, and eased you in, feeling how you relaxed in its warmth. He smiled softly, getting in with you right away. You could get used to this... How tenderly he held you against his chest, rubbing soothing circles into your back and shoulders. It almost made you feel special. Almost.

You still couldn't seem to shake the thought that this was a one-night-only affair. That he wasn't in love the way you were. That he would leave.

"y/n" he said, "there's something I'd like to ask you"

"go ahead 'm listening gyu"

"how do you feel-" he started, hesitating when your shoulders tensed, "how do you feel about me?"

"I-"

The words wouldn't come out.

'I love you. I've loved you for so long. I want to be yours Mingyu, I want to fall asleep with you every night and wake up with you every morning. I want to hold your hand and know that this is real- that it's you and me against the world. I want you. To be touched by you, to be loved by you.'

Your throat closed up and the tears you didn't realize you were holding back rolled down your cheeks. Alarmed, Mingyu cupped your face quickly, thumbs swiping away the tears.

"I'm sorry- fuck I'm so sorry this is too soon isn't it?" his panicked, almost guilty voice rang in your ears. "I shouldn't have assumed you felt the same, I'm so sorry y/n"

Wait what?

"you- but I- what?"

The tears had stopped. Your eyes were fixed on his guilty ones.

"I assumed you liked me too"

"too?"

"yes, too. I've liked you since forever- I thought you knew 'cause of how obvious I made it"

"too?" You were dumbfounded. Your mouth felt dry. Your heart thudded against the confines of your ribs. Your lips crashed into his, desperately, passionately.

Taken aback by the sudden kiss, a surprised gasp left Mingyu's lips.

"I like you too, idiot, love you, even" you mumbled against his lips, before he pulled you in once again for a longer, deeper kiss, just like the one you first shared.

Your breaths enmeshed, becoming one, hands holding onto one another desperately. The steady thud in your chest matched his own and you knew this was real.

"I love you more," his eyes shine with such devotion and awe, you feel the air knocked out of your lungs.

You run a finger along his defined chest, earning a shiver in response, and whisper;

"show me, then,"

A sly smile quirks up his lips and he lowers his head into the crook of your neck.

"only if you say please"

#seventeen #mingyu #mingyu smut #kim mingyu #smut #seventeen smut

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rinneverse · 3 months

Text

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤. — 𝒔𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒐 𝒌𝒐𝒔𝒌𝒊 ˒ ⊹

series synopsis. your friend, your pal, your fuck buddy—sampo koski seems to be getting closer and closer with every heated exchange. you wonder, briefly, if there’s something more lurking under the surface of it all. you have a strict rule set in place, though: don’t catch feelings.

[ don't you trust me masterlist | next chapter. ]

syn. you remember the beginning of your relationship with sampo koski, and think about where you're currently at now. sampo surprises you when he asks if you'd like to stay the night... and to your own surprise, you agree. (6.8k)

cw. fem reader / piv intercourse / marking / creampie / alcohol + drinking / spit mention / usage of the petnames doll & dollface, pretty girl, pretty, sweetheart, baby / slight mention of a size diff between sampo and reader (sampo is implied to be bigger than reader) / oral (f!receiving) / fingering / praise

love, oak! ༉‧₊˚. HELLO HI. FIRST CHAPTER. i am genuinely SOOO FUCKING EXCITED but also i'm actually very scared to be posting this bc this project is my BABY but OFSJDHGHAERFSHDGK FUCK IT WE BAAALLLLL!!!!!!!

MINORS + AGELESS BLOGS DNI. NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

You can hear your heart pounding in your ears.

It’s a rhythmic sound, aligning with the harsh creak of the bed as Sampo Koski’s hips snap into you with reckless abandon. It’s a carnal exchange, one involving sweat slicked bodies and teeth scraping against tender, sensitive flesh; it’s never been a slow, loving event. It’s always a release of stress.

Nothing more than that.

“Fuck—fuck me, please, don’t stop!” Your breath leaves you in a shuddering gasp. Pleasure zips through you, coursing from your dizzy head to your curled toes, leaving you absolutely molten.

Sampo heeds your calls, his pace never faltering for a second as he holds your hips in a bruising grip. You’re left there to grasp at the bed sheets, rake your nails down his back, lay there and take it as Sampo basks in the feeling of your soaked cunt pulsing around his cock.

“Gonna cum, pretty? C’mon, do it for Sampo, yeah?”

He had an awful habit of referring to himself in third person. It was a habit of his that you hated—not that it really mattered in this moment, when your brain was melting from the pleasure. You feel your core tightening with every passing second. You wanted to. You wanted to cum.

“Fuuuuck,” you drawl, nails digging into his shoulder blades as he draws a hand between the two of you to play with your aching clit. “Don’t stop. ‘m close, please, please,” you beg, a pretty sound that has Sampo growling.

And he doesn’t stop—he grows even more erratic in his thrusts, pushing you over the edge as his lips close around the sensitive skin of your neck. He’s always been a fan of leaving marks; possessive to a fault even if you weren’t officially his.

As you convulse around him, a sob of pleasure falling from your lips, Sampo is groaning and clutching you tight as his hips stutter. He cums, hard, thick ropes of seed shooting inside you as he pushes deep into your cunt.

He’s always had a habit of doing that, too. This one, you hated slightly less.

The two of you pant heavily as you come down from your respective highs. You clutch Sampo tightly, breasts rising and falling with every breath you take. He lets out a low laugh, content to let you hold him tightly as you bask in your post-orgasm high.

And as you come down, you reminisce.

Steam curls in the air as the pot on the stovetop boils water. You’re in the middle of your habitual tea time, getting ready to make yourself a warm cup to enjoy while you indulge in the latest book you’ve purchased for yourself when you hear your phone ping with a notification.

Your eye twitches as you spy who it’s from.

sampo: hey, pretty. mind meeting me at the usual spot real quick? i have something i need to ask you you: what could you possibly need to ask me that can’t be sent over text? you: sampo? you: sampoooo? you: you bitch. (read)

“Sampo.”

“Yes, pretty girl?”

The drawl of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. You’re supposed to be mad at him for interrupting your tea, though, so you continue with annoyance filling your tone, “What the hell was that cryptic message for? You can never be straight up with me, can you?”

Sampo taps his chin thoughtfully. Then he shrugs. “Some things are best left unwritten… and this particular favor, I’d really like to ask you in person.”

There’s a shit-eating grin on his face, and his tone is one that has you shifting back and forth on your feet. Sampo has always been an enigma to you, a jigsaw puzzle you could never quite figure out. It honestly irked you to no end that you couldn’t read him like you could everyone else.

The ambience of the bar you liked to frequent consumed the silence between you and Sampo. You take a second to claim the seat beside him and order your usual drink, crossing your legs as you give him a once-over.

Sampo’s clad in his usual outfit, his unruly two-toned hair tied back messily, exposing the nape of his neck to the humid atmosphere of the room. Your eyes seem to linger there momentarily before you meet his gaze, emerald pools glimmering with mischief and something more you can’t quite put your finger on.

You make a face at him. His grin widens in response and you roll your eyes.

“Alright. What’s this oh-so important favor, then?”

Sampo’s grin, to your surprise, lessens into a sheepish one. He averts his gaze in favor of knocking back his drink. He looks back to you.

“Ah, well… I was thinking—”

“Don’t beat around the bush, Sampo.” You interject.

Sampo’s lips twitched slightly. “If you would so kindly let me gather my thoughts...” He takes in a breath, a brief pause as he turns over the words he wanted to say before he continues.

“You’ve been telling me about how you’ve been so wound up with stress lately.” He clasps his hands together, rubbing them together in the way he does when he starts kissing ass. “And I was thinking, what if I did you a little favor? I could relieve it for you, if you’d like.”

You wait for more elaboration from him, but it doesn’t come. You raise an eyebrow. “What, exactly, are you suggesting here?”

Silence. Then: “How about we become friends with benefits?”

You gawk at him. His eyes catch on the way your lips part and press together, covered in a pretty sheen of gloss. You’re too busy trying to wrap your head around what he just suggested to notice the lingering hunger in his gaze.

You quickly search for a distraction—noticing that the bartender had slid over your drink without you realizing, you quickly swipe it up and start chugging. You think you hear a chuckle from Sampo in the background.

Once you’re satisfied (you had practically downed your entire drink in one go), savoring the burn of the alcohol that lingers in your throat, you wipe the corner of your lips with a thumb and turn back towards him. He’s still looking at you. Had he even looked at anything else while you were busy regaining your bearings?

It doesn’t matter. Your eyes narrow at him and you cross your arms. “What’s in it for you?”

Sampo seemed to have expected your suspicion, because he doesn’t miss a beat when he answers, “I get the same as you—an outlet for stress relief. Let me take care of you, pretty girl.”

The way he purrs his chosen pet-name for you sends a shiver running down your spine. You try to hide the way your thighs press together. The prospect of having sex with Sampo… it’s not entirely a notion you’d reject. Objectively, he’s fine as hell, with pretty green eyes and a slim waist, powerful shoulders and a broad back you think you’d like to rake your nails down. You bite your lip.

Okay, sure. Why the fuck not? Regardless of whether or not there was alcohol currently addling your brain, there’s no way you lose in this situation. Unless…

You hold up a hand. “Alright. I have a couple conditions though.”

Sampo nods, and his silence is enough to have you plowing forward with your thoughts. “No strings attached. I don’t want feelings involved. This is purely physical. And…” You purse your lips, searching for the words you wanted to say. After a moment you add quickly, “no kissing. That’s far too intimate, I think.”

“Fair enough,” he muses. “Any other lines you’d like to draw?”

He agreed to that almost immediately—while that should please you, it instead leaves a sick feeling swirling in your stomach and you’re not quite sure why. You chalk it up to the alcohol you had very intelligently decided to chug, and you lean against the bar as you ponder his question.

“No, I think that’s it.” You finally respond. Sampo briefly reaches out his hand for a handshake, but thinks better of it and retracts his hand quickly in favor of rising from the barstool he was perched on.

He grins down at you and holds out that hand again, this time in offering to you. “Shall we?”

“Ah—this starts tonight, then?”

“When else would it, doll? I’ve been thinking about this for awhile. Only you can help me scratch this itch.” He winks at you. You roll your eyes, but accept his hand anyways, gracefully coming to your feet.

Despite yourself, you feel your face warm as the two of you stare at each other, neither of you making the first move. You shouldn’t be embarrassed—this was Sampo, of all people—but here you were, suddenly shy. You glance away quickly, but after drawing up a bit of courage you chance a peek up at Sampo and find that there’s a pretty pink flush dusting over his cheeks. It makes you feel a sense of satisfaction. You weren’t the only one flustered here.

Sampo rubs the back of his neck, then he ventures, “so… would my place be okay?”

You stifle a giggle at how awkwardly he asks, deciding to spare him the pain of silence as you immediately nod your head. “Okay, sounds good. Let’s go.”

Sampo’s place is… neater than you thought it would be.

Actually, you don’t really know what you were expecting. It wasn’t necessarily a shithole in the slums you were imagining, but… ah, it didn’t matter.

It’s sparsely decorated, just a few trinkets here and there scattered amongst the comfy furniture adorning the living space. You pause in the doorway as you take it all in. You thought he would be more… of the hoarding sort. Guess Sampo is full of surprises tonight.

Which, speaking of Sampo:

“Well? I won’t bite doll, promise—I mean, unless you want me to.”

Sampo wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, earning a swift kick to his shins as you take another step in. He lets out a dramatic ‘oof,’ which draws a giggle from you, to his delight.

“We’ll see,” is all you say as you close and lock the door behind you.

It’s awkward as the two of you navigate through his home, much to your chagrin, but you were completely unsure of how to proceed. All you really knew was the exact reason you were here, the thought sending your heart beating a mile a minute as you focus on keeping your breathing steady.

You were positive Sampo knew how much of a mess you felt like right now though, because he startles you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, okay pretty girl? You just let me know if it’s ever too much.”

Your lip quivers as you look up at him. His face softens even more at the anxiety you finally let shine through when you whisper, “Okay.”

The hand resting on your shoulder drifts down to the small of your back, ghosting gently along your spine as he takes on guiding you to his room, maneuvering you to the foot of his bed where you hesitantly take a seat.

He hums thoughtfully as he searches for the words he wants to say. Another moment passes, then suddenly—“Do you trust me?”

You blink owlishly. Then, you nod your head.

“I need to hear a verbal confirmation, dollface.”

The dominance in his tone has your back straightening—and much to your surprise, heat swirling in your core. You bite your lip. “I trust you, Sampo.”

“Good girl. You just let me take the reins, okay? All you gotta do is sit back and relax.”

You nod your head. Sampo takes a step towards you but only stares, his eyes narrowing in challenge. You quickly realize what he wants and you stammer out a quick ‘yes’ before he’s descending upon you, gently pushing your shoulders in a silent command to lay back against the mattress.

You’re pliant to his whims, lying back against the plush bedding as he leans over you, breath ghosting over your face as if he’s about to kiss you—then he’s remembering your request, inching lower to press his lips to the smooth column of your neck. He draws out a soft moan from you as you feel his tongue dip against your skin, the scrape of his teeth as he drags his mouth lower, towards your collarbone.

“Your skin tastes divine, sweetheart. I wonder how much better it is down here.”

His sinful words are accompanied by a roll of his hips against your center, eliciting a gasp from you at the sudden friction. You squirm, hands coming up to clutch his shoulders as he smirks down at you.

You meet his smug gaze with narrowed eyes. Two could play at this game. You roll your hips back up against his, achingly slow, savoring the way Sampo’s eyelids flutter shut as he presses back against you.

“Don’t tease me,” you breathe. “Or I’ll do it right back.”

Sampo’s lips curl up in a smile, a pure predator looking down at you. “Yeah?”

You nod your head, eyebrows furrowing with displeasure as you meet his heated stare. It takes everything in you not to grind up against him again—desperate for any sort of friction. Sampo’s smile only widens.

“Alright, alright, I get the message. I won’t torment you for too long, okay? Sampo’ll take good care of ya.”

You make a feeble attempt at kicking him, but he’s quicker than you, pinning your legs with his strong thighs—you can see the muscles flex under the fabric of his pants at the effort. You can’t help the way your mouth drops open a fraction.

Okay, maybe you were attracted to Sampo. When he kept his mouth shut.

“Don’t refer to yourself in third person, you freak.”

“Or what?” Sampo leans closer to you, face to face. His warm breath mingles with yours—and he’s close to you, so close, leaning and leaning and—

He’s got you distracted as a hand slips under the fabric of your shirt, slithering up your stomach until he reaches what he was aiming for. He palms the soft flesh of your tit and you moan, glowering up at him as he smirks in response.

“Pay attention, pretty. Don’t want you to miss a single thing.”

You glare up at him as he smiles prettily down at you, the portrait of innocence—well, as innocent as he can be with the lust-drunk gaze he drags over your body as he slowly pushes up your shirt with another hand. With a little bit of maneuvering he pulls the fabric off of you, leaving you in your bra and the miniskirt you opted to wear out to see him.

Sampo bites his lip, running his hand over the curves of your body. Then he’s peeling away your skirt as well, humming in satisfaction as you lift your hips for him, leaving goosebumps along the skin of your legs as his fingers brush against the sensitive flesh. You watch as he drops the fabric slowly, his sharp gaze roving slowly over your figure.

“Aeons, sweetheart. You look so good.” Sampo hisses quietly as he palms at the bulge in his pants. Your eyes immediately catch on the movement.

He’s hard. And from what little you can glean, he’s big, too. You swallow.

Sampo’s smile grows feline. “What’re you lookin’ at, pretty girl?”

You shake your head. Sampo tuts quietly, but doesn’t push—not yet.

Sampo pulls off his shirt in a swift movement. Unbuckles his belt with one hand. You sit up on your elbows—not just to watch him strip unobstructed, you tell yourself—as you take in the view of Sampo, of his broad shoulders and strong biceps, the smooth skin of his chest, down his abs, and… is that a happy trail? It most certainly is. You really hope you’re not drooling.

“Now, don’t get shy on me now. It’s far too late for that.” You hear Sampo chuckle darkly. “C’mon, you can be honest. You like the view?” He asks with a tilt of his head.

You hesitate. It was going to come out one way or another, so you ultimately decide to be truthful with him and nod your head. His smile only widens.

“Good girl, bein’ honest. How about I reward you, huh?”

You don’t have time to ask questions; he doesn’t grant you any. He grasps your ankle and pulls you to the edge of the bed where he kneels, face level with the pretty lace underwear you adorn. You let out a squeak of surprise, your face heating with embarrassment as you realize just how vulnerable this position made you. His large hands grasp at your thighs, pushing them open as he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder.

“Hey—” you start with a gasp, eyes wide as you look down at him. He smiles coyly when he catches your gaze.

“You trust me, don’t ya? Just relax,” he purrs. His fingers trace the hemline of your panties, drawing a shiver from you. Biting your lip, you take his advice and lean back, watching him raptly as he kisses the inside of your thigh. You feel your chest tighten with desire.

“Pretty,” the pet-name rolls off his tongue smoothly, dripping with honey-sweet desire. “You’re already so soaked for me. Look at you.” His finger glides up your lace-covered slit. You let out a whimper in response.

He takes his time with you, holding you open with one hand as the other drifts up over your navel, around the hem of your panties, dipping under the elastic seam and snapping it back against your skin. He tugs at it gently, once, twice, then he’s pulling it down, leaving the fabric to dangle around the ankle hooked over his shoulder. He leans forward to press a kiss to the apex of your thighs.

“Sampo…” You breathe out. You’re clutching at the sheets below you in a white-knuckled grip, your ribs expanding with the deep, shuddering inhale you take in as his eyes make contact with yours.

“You’re fucking dripping for me, baby,” he all but groans. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

You’re just about on the verge of begging for something, any kind of stimulation from him, when his eyes flick back down. He’s suddenly pressing his mouth to your cunt, tongue laving up your center. It feels like you’ve been electrified, nerves alight with white-hot pleasure; you nearly jump at the contact. His grip shifts to your hips, holding you down as he devours you like a man starved.

Your head tips back as you moan wantonly. It’s maddening and satisfying all at once—his tongue strokes at your clit, dips into you and drags back out slowly, teasingly. You look back down at him through the haze of pleasure, finding intense pools of emerald staring right back at you, drinking in your every reaction like it was the sweetest nectar.

“Sampo,” his name falls from your lips almost reverently. The effect it has on him is almost instantaneous—his grip tightens on you and he’s eating you out with a renewed fervor, bringing you ever closer to the brink. As you dangle dangerously on that precipice, you bring a hand down to twine through the soft locks of his navy hair, panting with the effort of prolonging the moment. Not yet. Not yet.

The groan he lets out when you tug on his hair makes your core tighten even more.

“Baby,” he rasps as he pulls away, warm breath fanning over your sensitive slit. The sight is filthy: there’s a thin trail of saliva still connecting you to him, your slick shining on his chin in the pale moonlight that filters in through the curtains. “You taste so fucking good.”

Your chest heaves as you reply breathlessly, “you feel so fucking good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He pauses, his head dipping slightly as he presses a gentle kiss to your clit. Your hips buck again, restrained by the hand that grips you tightly. “Do you want to feel even better?”

You nod your head, the word ‘yes’ falling from your lips in a desperate plea.

Sampo smiles, his free hand coming up slowly, so so slowly, his tongue darting out to coat his fingers in his saliva. His eyes never leave yours—no, he wanted you to watch this lewd display. Watch as his tongue runs over spit-slicked knuckles, watch as he lowered his hand to your aching pussy.

“Fuck,” you whine as he eases his fingers into you easily, crooking and prodding—searching. Looking for the spot that drives you crazy. A moan rips from your throat, head falling back as Sampo’s lips close around your clit, sucking and licking in tandem with his fingers that were working you just right.

When they curl in the most perfect way, you have to stop yourself from closing your legs around his head with a sharp inhale. You miss the way his eyes light up with a feral sort of excitement—knowing he’s found the spot that makes you come apart so perfectly. And he exploits that spot, again and again and again, making you delirious with the white-hot pleasure he inflicts upon you.

It’s not long before you’re shoved off the edge, freefalling into a world-shattering orgasm that has your back arching as you let out a sob of pleasure. Sampo laps lazily at you through your orgasm, making you jolt with the after-shocks as he drags his tongue over your now too-sensitive clit.

“Atta girl,” Sampo croons, withdrawing his fingers with a lewd squelch. You squirm as you feel the cool air hit your slick covered thighs. “That feel good?”

Dazed, you nod your head. You feel the heavy weight of Sampo hover over you, consuming your senses as his lips press against your neck. Sometime between him giving you perhaps one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had and now, he’s shucked off his pants, now clad only in his boxers. They’re stained with pre, you note with satisfaction, his cock straining against the fabric. You slip a hand down, trailing lower and lower until your fingers brush over his erection.

Sampo groans softly. The noise fills you with a tidal wave of desire; you find yourself wanting to hear what other noises you can draw out of him. You start to palm him gently, fingers caressing the impressive length of him through the thin cotton material. Sampo makes a low noise in his throat.

“Doll… you’re driving me crazy here.” Sampo utters, inhaling sharply when you squeeze.

“What’s wrong, Sampo? ‘m not doing anything.” You smile coyly as you continue to tease him.

His eyes glint with predatory intent, his hand shooting down to grab your wrist when he decides you’ve had enough fun toying with him.

Looks like his patience has run out. Not that he had that much to even begin with.

Sampo releases your wrist in favor of tugging his boxers down, his cock springing out and slapping obscenely against his abs. He’s… oh, Aeons, you weren’t even sure he would fit.

It’s like he can read the thought plain as day on your face because he purrs, “I’ll take it nice and easy, baby. Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing.”

He nudges your legs open as he kneels between them, hands grasping your hips gently as he readjusts you. Your eyes widen as he spits in his hand and brings it down to pump himself—the lewd display makes your thighs clench.

Despite your apprehension, you couldn’t help the heady desperation that swirled in your core, the electrifying desire zipping through your veins—you wanted him. Bad.

“It’ll feel real good pretty girl, okay? All you have to do is trust me.” Sampo says soothingly. Then he’s pressing the blunt head of his cock against your slit, dragging it along your folds slowly, coating himself in the arousal dripping from you. The tip catches against your clit deliciously, making you whine softly. You needed more.

“If you don’t fuck me now,”—your breath hitches as he finally pushes in, barely breaching your drooling pussy—”I’ll go insane.”

“I gotcha, pretty. Just be patient.” Sampo holds your hips as he presses further into you. The stretch burns; but it’s the delicious kind of pain, the one that makes you want to beg for more.

He buries his head in the crook of your neck, his muffled groan vibrating against you. He’s trembling, you think—holding back the urge to just fuck you already. While you appreciate the thought, you think you might genuinely, actually, go insane if he doesn’t start fucking your brains out soon.

“Sampo,” you rasp, hips bucking slightly. “I can take it. Please, please—need it so bad.”

His hips twitch. One heartbeat passes—then two.

“Sampo.” You whine again. Your fingers clutch his shoulder blades, nails digging into the flesh none too gently.

He breathes in deeply. The only warning you get is him readjusting his grip; he snaps his hips, thrusting all the way in. It tears a moan from your throat, walls pulsing around his girth as he bottoms out, balls slapping lewdly against the plushness of your ass. You’re both groaning, your nails digging even harder into him as he pulls out slowly, then snaps his hips again, starting a crude rhythm that drains all sense from your head.

All you can manage is a heady moan of his name, the pleasure threatening to pull you under like the strong current of a riptide. You could almost drown in it.

“So good,” you babble, chest bouncing with every thrust into you. It rips the air from your lungs, lighting a fire inside of you, on the brink of burning you from the inside out with the intensity of just how fucking good he’s making you feel.

His skin is slick with sweat, pressing and sliding against your own as he pounds you mercilessly into the soft bed beneath you. He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours, wild and alight with desire.

“Takin’ me so well,” Sampo groans, hips stuttering as you clamp around him involuntarily. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

A sob falls from your lips as he slows to a tortuous grind, dragging his cock along your pulsing walls. You feel your core tightening, aching, begging for more, more, more.

“I’ll give you more, pretty girl, don’t you worry,” Sampo replies. You didn’t think you had said it out loud, but he doesn’t give you any time to think about it because he’s grabbing the backs of your knees and pressing them back against your chest.

The new position has stars swimming in your vision as he pistons into you, the vulgar sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in your ear as he all but folds you in half. You think you might really die. Your head is spinning. You can’t even form a coherent thought anymore—you’re quite literally filled to the brim with Sampo. You don’t think you ever want it to stop.

You feel tears prick your eyes as you’re overwhelmed with the molten pleasure coursing through your veins. He’s fucking you relentlessly, even through the orgasm that hits you like a freight-train, so sudden that you damn near pass out.

“Fuck yeah—cum for me, pretty. You’re doing so fucking well.”

You feel Sampo throb inside you—he’s close, too, and you want him tumbling into oblivion with you—so you clench around him, walls still fluttering with the orgasm he’s fucking you through. He hisses, teeth gnashing together as he stifles his groan, pace growing unsteady and snappier until he’s suddenly pulling out, painting your burning skin with ropes of cum. It’s sticky, dripping in rivulets down your skin, but you can’t find it in you to be grossed out.

In fact, you think it’s a little hot.

He curses lowly, hips still twitching in the aftermath of his own climax. “Fuck, doll…” He pants. “Let me get you a towel.”

That was almost a year ago, you think. Heat creeps up your face at the memory of your first escapade with him.

You’ve had this sort of arrangement with Sampo for awhile, where the two of you will link up, fuck, and then go your separate ways, as simple as that. Sometimes it’s more planned, and you’ll end up in his bed for an hour or two, but other times, most times, it ends with your back against a brick wall in a desolate alley, or perhaps inside the nearest closet the two of you can find.

But lately, it’s been the former. He’s even been dining you beforehand, treating you to a nice meal before he fucks your brains out. And while you appreciate the sentiment, it’s been.. throwing you off, to put it simply.

You’re not quite sure what this means for the two of you. Maybe you can choose to ignore this development in this precarious relationship the two of you shared, always teetering on that fine line between lust and something that felt suspiciously like love.

Problem is… you’re not quite sure if you even wanted to ignore it.

You’re shaken from your thoughts when you hear the shower running, and the cold slams into you with a fierceness you’re completely unprepared for. Teeth clattering together as you shiver, you grab for the nearest blanket (you end up needing to grab the duvet—Sampo never kept extra blankets on the bed) and bundle yourself up. Once you feel warm enough, you roll out of the comfort of his bed, your feet padding softly on the carpet as you make your way to the bathroom. You find Sampo in there in all of his naked glory, who turns his head as he hears the quiet hiss of the blanket dragging against the floor.

He offers you a kind smile, completely unfazed as your eyes rove over him, none too discreetly. He says, “I thought I’d start the shower for you. Get it warmed up.”

You tilt your head to the side. “That’s okay, I can just shower when I get home…” Your voice trails off as you catch a glimpse of the city outside from the nearby window—the ground is blanketed in a sheet of white, and you can barely see a few feet away from the glass against the flurry of snow outside. You blink once, twice, and then look at Sampo again.

“Ah, about that…” Sampo rubs the back of his neck. “It’s pretty cold out. How about you stay the night with me? Won’t cost any extra to ya.” He winks at you. His feet are silent on the cool tiled floor as he slowly approaches you. “I’ll even sleep on the couch, if that’ll make you feel better about it.”

Despite the… close relationship you shared, you had never actually stayed the full night at Sampo’s. Maybe you’d linger an hour or two, but it had always ended in you making it home, slipping into the comfort of your own bed. This would be the first time sleeping in his. You feel your heart stutter as the thought runs through your mind.

Then you’re shaking your head at his offer—or more specifically, the latter part of it. “No, no, that’s not necessary. I’ll stay, but we can share the bed. We’ve been tangled up in it more than enough to manage just sleeping together in it.” You wryly smile at him. “Thank you, Sampo. I appreciate it.”

You’re slightly astonished at the blush that rises to his cheeks in response to your words. The sight makes warmth bloom in your chest and your heart skips a beat. It reminds you of the first time you had seen him blush, way back when you met him at the bar for that fateful conversation.

The warmth in your chest quickly freezes over as you remember the words exchanged right before that—the stupid rules that you had put in place yourself.

Because, you remember bitterly, this was supposed to be completely and utterly no strings attached. There was no room for the butterflies in your stomach, nor the way your breath hitches when he brushes a hand over your bare shoulder as he slowly slips the duvet from around you.

“Go on, shower first. I’ll be waiting out here for you.” Sampo smirks down at you. “Maybe we’ll go for round two, if you’re up for it.”

With a playful swat at his shoulder, you quickly herd him out of the bathroom. “Horny bastard. We’ll see.”

“It’s up to you, sweetheart. I’ll see you on the other side.”

You can see him blow you a kiss as you shut the door, sliding the lock into place. You clutch your chest. You let your careful mask fall; as you turn to the mirror, you see something akin to desperation on your face shimmering in the reflection.

Maybe you’re in deep shit. Maybe you’ve been falling for awhile now, and you’ve been so stuck in your own head that it took until this very moment to truly grasp your own reality:

You have feelings for Sampo Koski.

With that realization swirling in your head, when you step into the shower, you quickly turn the temperature to cold.

When you emerge from the bathroom, wrapped only in a plush gray towel, you catch Sampo’s gaze from the bedroom almost immediately. You hold up a hand.

“Nuh-uh, no round two.” You simply say. He pouts for only a moment, quickly recovering and rolling out of bed. He immediately slinks up to you with folded clothes in hand.

“Hey now, I wasn’t gonna ask for anything! Here—these are for you to sleep in.” Sampo holds out the folded shirt and sweats. You accept it with a small thank you, and turn back for the bathroom to change.

There was something strangely intimate about putting on his clothes in front of him, so you quietly escape back to the bathroom. There’s no snarky retort or even any comment at all from Sampo, even as you shut the door, so you quickly slip on the clothes he gave you. You’d have to make do with going home in the snow tomorrow in the clothes you wore here, you think. Good thing you opted for your jeans instead of that skirt you wanted to wear.

Distracted, you glance up at the bathroom mirror and startle at the sight.

The sight of you in his shirt makes your stomach flip. His scent curls around you, musky and deep, and for some reason you feel… comforted. Almost like he was embracing you himself. You grip the bathroom counter with your free hand, white-knuckled. You wouldn’t think too hard about what, exactly, this feeling meant. No, you refused to. You would spiral down a dangerous train of thought otherwise; you couldn’t afford to do that when you’re about to sleep in the same bed as Sampo.

You could think about it tomorrow. Or perhaps the day after that. Or maybe even… never. You were happy to stay stagnant in this little bubble that contained you and him, where you weren’t really just friends anymore but you weren’t quite lovers, either. You were content to never let it change.

A knock on the door makes you jump.

“You okay in there, pretty girl? You’ve been in there for awhile.”

His muffled voice held a note of concern that makes your chest tighten. You feel your breath hitch.

“Yeah, uhm—sorry, just give me one more second, promise I’ll stop hogging the bathroom…”

“Take your time. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You hear his footsteps leave and you let out a breath. You could handle this. There was nothing romantic at all about just… sleeping. You would go to bed, then you would wake up and be on your way, and things will return back to the way they should be.

Surely.

With that thought, you slowly creep your way back to the bedroom, where you find Sampo nestled up in his bed already. You catch yourself smiling a little bit.

“Sampo, leave some blanket for me, you pig.”

You hear him snort quietly as you slide into bed beside him. There’s ample room in his bed, and as you curl up on your side, tucking yourself under the plush duvet, you hear him mumble quietly, “Goodnight, pretty girl. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Sampo.”

You cannot, for the life of you, fucking sleep.

It’s hard to, when right at your back there’s a warm mass slumbering—and even though you count every breath he takes like counting sheep, you’re still wide awake. It felt like your thoughts were running a thousand miles a minute.

You’re going to lose your mind at this rate.

Turning onto your back, you stare at the blank ceiling, pushing the blanket down to your midsection as you once again make a fruitless attempt at falling asleep. You know it’s futile to even try, with your heart racing in that familiar way that it did when you were tangled up with Sampo, but fuck, all you wanted to do was sleep.

Rustling makes you freeze.

And then you hear him shifting—when you turn your head to look at him, you catch pools of deep jade green staring back at you. Sampo groggily smiles at you. “Hey.”

You start, clutching the blanket as if it were some kind of shield. He snorts as he observes you.

“Sampo… why’re you awake?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He replies, followed quickly by a yawn. You feel the urge to yawn tickle at the back of your throat before you’re following suite, bringing up a hand to cover your face.

Sampo chuckles. “You’re not sleepy, pretty? Need Sampo to tire you out real quick?”

You glower at his simpering smile, hitting his shoulder with no real force behind it. “No. I’m okay, I just… never really have an easy time sleeping anywhere that isn’t my own bed.”

He hums in understanding. Then he’s mirroring you, shifting to lie on his back, but instead he stares at the ceiling. Your eyes linger on him a little bit longer before you’re looking up too.

“What’s on your mind?” He asks softly.

You say after a moment of consideration, “I can’t tell you that.”

Sampo doesn’t miss a beat. “Why not?”

You shake your head, the movement hissing against the soft fabric of the pillowcase beneath you. “It’s… personal.”

Sampo snorts again. “I thought we were way past personal boundaries by now.”

Physically, yes, but… emotionally? You don’t voice the thought out loud. Instead you reply, “We are, yes, but um… I dunno.”

Silence. It lingers between you, not entirely uncomfortable, but it’s… tense. You glance back over at Sampo again.

His gaze flicks over to you.

“Do you trust me?”

The phrase lights up a moment of recognition within you—a phrase he’s uttered so many times; as he guides you, tugs you along with his whims, while he takes you—

Your throat bobs as you swallow. Your answer has never changed. “Yes.”

The sheets are rustling. Then, strong arms pull you towards a broad chest, wrapping you in their embrace; you’re responding immediately, lips parting in a silent gasp. Your brain is slower than your heart—you’re curling up against the warmth of him despite your better judgement. You feel the vibrations of his quiet chuckle reverberate through him, through you, echoing deep in your bones as you start to laugh with him.

“If you don’t want to talk, I understand,” Sampo breathes, lips brushing against the crown of your head. “But at least let me hold you. Let me offer you something to take your mind off of things. I want you to get some rest.”

Your hand rests against his pec—he slept shirtless, oh fuck—as you nestle closer to him, legs intertwining with his. You’re tangled together with him again, but this time it’s in a quiet way. Innocent. You find that you don’t mind this.

He doesn’t either, if the way he holds you closer is any indication. He has a strong arm looped around your waist, the other having snaked it’s way under your head, and you think that his bicep doesn’t make too bad of a pillow. It draws a smile to your lips.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll try.”

Curled up in the warmth of Sampo, you finally drift.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

#sampo koski x reader #sampo x reader #sampo smut #sampo koski smut #hsr smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #sampo x you #sampo koski x you #☆ oakie writes #☆ series: don't you trust me?#dividers via cafekitsune <3 #OUUGHHH IM SO NERVOUS POSTING THIS I HOPE U GUYS LIKE IT........

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laurfilijames · 3 months

Text

Bulletproof

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Mentions of being shot through a bulletproof vest. Bruises and welts. Swearing. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: After a close call in a gunfight, Jax turns to you to remind him of all the things in life worth living for.

A/N: I'm sorry I couldn't help it. This is a teeny bit angsty and full of feelings. I needed to write something "short and sweet" (it's neither of those 🤣) to get my writing back on track, and well, here's this... enjoy!!

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The buzz of your phone that sat on the nightstand beside your head woke you from a decent sleep, taking you a few minutes to register it was happening for real and not in a dream, a soft moan passing your lips as you reached over for it and hit the button to accept the call.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice groggy and unable to disguise your sleep, your eyes too heavy and blurred to have read on the screen who was on the other end.

“Hey, it’s me,” Jax’s voice registered in your ear, making you become a little more alert and sit up while running your hand over your hair.

“I’m on my way over,” he explained, his tone short and wired, like he was on edge or adrenaline was pumping through him.

Glancing over at the alarm clock, you simply agreed, not asking any questions, knowing if he was calling you and needing to see you at this hour that something more than just sex was on his mind.

The roar of his Harley came through before he hung up, and flinging the covers off while swinging your legs to the side of the bed, you did the same.

You walked through to the front door, wearing only his Reaper t-shirt that had become your nightly staple, flicking the bolt to unlock it as you leaned against the frame, peeling back the curtain that covered the small window to look out onto the dark street as if he would be rolling in any second despite him having just left to get there.

Letting your eyelids close, you continued to lean, wrapping your arms around yourself to try to keep some of the lingering warmth from your bed on your skin, partly hoping that Jax would be tired and ready for sleep when he arrived.

The familiar rumble of his engine sounded in the distance and grew louder with each second, and an automatic smile tugged at your lips, your heart picking up pace just as his motorcycle did to quicker close the gap between him and you.

You watched through the window, your fingers toying with the thin fabric as you held the curtain aside, seeing him roughly push down the kickstand with his white sneakers before quickly standing up and dismounting his bike, unfastening his helmet at the same time.

The way he was rushing made your pulse hammer, his deliberate strides a clear display of his desperation, and you opened the door for him before he blew through it and knocked it off its hinges, his expression a mix of frenzy and relief as his blue eyes landed on you.

Gloved hands gripped your cheeks roughly, pulling you into him equally as much as he pressed himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss so hard it stole your breath.

A slightly surprised gasp blew out of your mouth when he parted from you and gave you an opportunity to get air back into your lungs, your eyes searching his features with concern as you took in the sweat clinging to his reddened cheeks, his hair damp and darkened.

His chest rose and fell sharply, and tearing off his gloves, he raked his long fingers that held a home for his chunky rings through his messy tresses, exhaling a shaky breath as he looked down at the floor and then back up at you.

“Jax, what happened?”

He shook his head and chuckled falsely, pulling his bottom lip in his teeth before looking at you with what he must have thought was a convincing expression.

“I’m fine.”

His eyebrows sat high on his forehead and brought out the creases on it as he stared at you, and when you held his gaze almost challengingly, he blinked away the moisture that you caught building up in them and moved into you again, his sigh emptying out into your mouth as he kissed you slower this time, but with equal passion.

Your hands slipped up beneath his kutte, the heat of his skin pouring off of him as you rubbed his back in soothing motions, the act comforting yourself as much as it was him.

The familiar taste and smell of smoke assaulted your nose and transferred onto your tongue, knowing whatever stress he was under right now had caused him to light up one cigarette after the other to try to settle his nerves.

As your kiss faded out, Jax rubbed his nose against the side of yours, his breath hot on your cheek, the stickiness of his skin transferring onto yours.

He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing for a moment while he let his hands roam up over your bum and onto the small of your back, bringing your body even closer to his.

Swaying slightly on the spot, he nuzzled his face into yours even more, a moment of softness before he met your lips again, claiming you in another kiss that started slow and quickly increased in fervor.

His breathing became laboured, struggling to draw in enough air as he kissed you harder and with more desperation, his hands gripping at your flesh beneath his worn shirt.

You could feel his hard cock pressing into you as it strained against his jeans, making you rub yourself on it a couple of times with a teasing grind of your hips, your fingers moving down his stomach to work at the button and zipper while he shrugged out of his kutte.

It landed carelessly on the floor beside you, and you couldn’t mistake the slight wince on his face before it disappeared in his hoodie as he lifted his arms and pulled it over his head, immediately moving back to capture your lips again.

He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans, walking forward to force you back and further into your house, your hand rubbing him through his boxers before diving inside the waistband to take hold of his cock, stroking the hot, velvety skin of his length that made you moan into his mouth and him push harder on yours.

Both of you blindly made your way toward your bedroom, only pausing your kisses briefly to peel the white t-shirt that clung to his body off of him, your breath knocking out of you as he slammed you against the wall and began lifting the hem of the shirt still covering your body.

Once your naked form was available to him, he trailed his lips down your neck and along your collarbone while his hands smoothed all along your waist, one moving to your breasts where his fingers plucked one of your peaked nipples, the other traveling downward to slip between your legs.

“Jax…” you breathed, your tone needy and filled with lust, the sensation of his fingers entering and withdrawing from your slick hole making your eyes close and your head knock back on the drywall.

After losing yourself in ecstasy for a couple of minutes, you refocused, needing him more than ever, your thumbs hooking in the band of his boxers to tear them down his legs.

Jax took your hand and turned to lead you the short distance to your room, giving you a view of his back where your eyes were drawn to different spots of dark colouring that weren’t part of the ones that made up the large tattoo that covered almost all of it.

Peppered between the image of the Reaper and letters that spelled out ‘California’ were round bruises, his skin raised with welts, and your heart sank in realization of what had caused them; the impact of the bullets that had hit him unable to be disguised even with the protection of kevlar.

You instinctively reached out to lightly trace each one, counting three in total, a mix of emotions rushing through you that were half grateful and half terrified.

“I’m fine.” He repeated the same lie as before, glancing back at you as he paused in his steps and turned to face you.

You dove into him, wrapping your shaky arms around him to hug him so tight you didn’t care if it hurt, feeling his arms encase you in return and his lips press multiple times on the top of your head.

A sourness crept up your restricted throat, your guts twisting almost painfully at the thought of one of those bullets striking a place the bulletproof vest hadn’t been covering, and you frantically began kissing him everywhere you could reach, starting on his chest and making your way up his neck, your hands moving to cup his cheeks where your thumbs smoothed back and forth on his blond scruff. Your lips met again, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths as you transferred all your worry and grief into a display of love, his cock nudging at your core to remind you of what it was he needed right now.

The oncoming tears stung when you squeezed your eyelids together tightly, one slipping out and down your cheek as you retrained your focus on the feel of his tongue tangling with yours instead, the simplicity of needing to just be with him beginning to outweigh anything else.

You finally made it into your room, sitting on the bed and scooching yourself back to lay down with spread legs as he settled between them and sank overtop of you, continuing to kiss you with as much ardor that the skin around your mouth was already beginning to feel raw.

His knee pressed up on your thigh to guide it higher, spreading you out further as he covered your body completely with his, his fingers running along your scalp to send shivers across your skin.

You adjusted your hips, angling yourself to allow for his leaking head to push through your folds, lingering with just the tip of him inside you that somehow already made you feel full.

The skin on his back was tacky as you ran your hands gently up and down it, feeling his muscles flex as he began to move against you, his cock stretching you out inch by inch as he slowly pushed all the way in.

It was ironic; catching glimpses of the silver shell casing that hung from the chain around his neck in the light shining in through the window as it wagged and glided along your chest, filling the space between your hearts that hammered furiously and proved his vitality as if it hadn’t been threatened.

As soon as Jax had pulled into your driveway he felt better, the need to see you and be with you at the forefront of his mind, having bolted out of the clubhouse the minute he had changed out of his tac vest and clothes that were sprayed with holes from the gunshots he could still hear going off in his head.

Now that he had felt your lips against his and the softness of your skin beneath his palms, he was filled with an appreciation for you that he knew he took for granted too many times before, the relief he felt at being with someone who made him feel alive after a close call with death sobering him in a harsh bite of reality.

The way you made him feel was undeniable, giving him a vigor that was too often misplaced and diluted even though you showed him a brighter side to all the darkness that surrounded him, his lack of commitment to anyone but his club wrongly applicable even to you.

He thrusted harder into you, deepening his strokes as he peeled his mouth from yours to watch his cock pump in and out of you, the sound of your pleasure coming out in beautiful whimpers and soft moans while requesting more from him reiterating every reason why he came here tonight in the first place.

Jax dove against your lips again, needing to kiss you in order to stop himself from saying things that he feared may only be a result of how fucking scared he had been earlier, but deep down knowing the words that portrayed how he felt weren’t coming from a place of fear.

It felt different. Crazed and desperate and meaningful, the way he fucked you hinting at something more intent and unwavering than usual.

Sex with Jax was always mind-numbing and intense, but you never let yourself get too far into things knowing he could be gone before you even woke the next day and carrying on without thinking twice about it meaning anything more, his nonchalance always reminding you to take nothing from it other than pleasure.

Gone.

The potency of that little word had your eyes burning again, burrowing an emptiness in your chest that ached to be filled by anything he was generous enough to give.

There were never any labels put on what you were to each other or what this was, but the possibility of losing him at any moment made you desperate to show him what he meant to you, your fingers digging into the flesh on his upper arms so hard as if adding marks of your own on his body would make him stay with you forever.

You reached your face upward to press harder against his mouth, happy when he reciprocated and drove his tongue deeper inside yours, the long, rolling motions of his hips continuing, only now with more calculated force.

Heat bubbled within you, building up into that familiar tingle that taunted to be chased, every nerve in you warning of what drew nearer with each pump and drag of his long cock in and out of you.

The way his hands roamed your body in a calm, but needy way had your mind spinning, like the more he touched you the more it grounded and convinced him that he was still here to enjoy something this good; the gravity of today in no hurry to lose its effectiveness.

Jax paused for a moment, rubbing his hand over your forehead as he searched your eyes for permission or assurance or something more that scared even you, the sound of your panting breaths the only thing audible in the dark quiet of your room. He dipped down to brush your lips again, his scruff holding onto the sweat that had effectively coated every part of his body, lightly teasing with a softer kiss before resuming the purposeful tempo of his hips, the silence between you able to voice that you were both ready to find your high together.

Letting your bodies say what your words couldn't, you met his pace, grinding and rolling deliberately in time with him, the need to help him find his release with the use of your body seeming more important tonight than it ever had.

Jax gripped your face tightly, his fingers squeezing your jawline in an almost frantic way, groaning into your mouth desperately as a signal of his climax.

His thrusts never faltered, continuing to pound you while his hot cum filled you up in aggressive spurts, throwing you into your own orgasm as your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs on his groin. The feel of his cock sliding his thick seed in and out of you drew out your high, prolonging every blissful spark and shudder that tore through your body, the way his sweaty form laid heavily on top of yours a necessary weight that helped you stay rooted in the moment.

He remained buried inside you while you kissed, catching your breaths by sharing each other’s until he slipped from between your legs and crashed onto the covers beside you, his arm falling over his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

Despite having just been as close to him as you possibly could be, you felt a vacancy and longing for him, glancing over at him where you watched him close his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly as he drew in sharp breaths.

His necklace fell to the side from where it rested on his pec, hanging in his armpit as he continued to breathe, and you carefully picked it up between your fingers, the silver cold against them and a stark contrast to the heat that radiated off his body.

Even though his eyes remained closed, you couldn’t mistake the pained look on his face, a sort of fear and vulnerability that was rare to see on his features, his mortality shattering the usual invincibility that was layered on falsely by his cockiness.

Your chest felt tight, watching him let everything the adrenaline had prevented him from feeling earlier course through him, and you leaned over and traced your fingertips along the creases beside his mouth before pressing your lips to his, relieved when he didn’t hesitate to kiss you back.

His arms came down to wrap around you, pulling your body to rest more on top of his, his hands carding over your back in a comfortable, soothing way.

You couldn’t recount the times sex with Jax had turned into a quick goodbye between smiling kisses and promises to see each other soon only to have days turn into weeks, convincing yourself and him that this was nothing more than a casual, fun fuck, having to disguise the way your heart ached for him and how many butterflies erupted at the mention of his name alone.

None of that mattered tonight, no longer caring if you let your cards show, the severity of tonight outweighing any need to try to stifle your feelings or bother denying that you felt more for him than you ever intended to let happen.

Jax remained pensive and quiet, his boisterous self clouded by his brush with a graver fate, but with the occasional kiss to the top of your head and the way his heartbeat had steadied in your ear, you knew he was comforted in your embrace.

As you laid entwined in your sheets, your leg hooked over his waist while he held your hand and played with your fingers, interlacing them and listlessly running them through his, you thought how you would never be able to control or guarantee if he would be yours to love forever, the way he lived his reckless life a threat to any sort of assurance.

A soft smile tugged at your lips when Jax shifted slightly lower on the bed to line up your face with his, kissing you slowly and clutching your hand in his where he brought it into his chest.

His nose rubbed against yours a couple of times before he settled his head on your pillow, a quiet hum sounding from his mouth, his blue eyes shining with a vitality and promise that for at least another day, he was yours.

---

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#jax teller #sons of anarchy #jax teller smut #jax teller x female reader #charlie hunnam #jax teller x reader #sons of anarchy fic #charlie hunnam characters #jax teller fic #samcro

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pastel-peach-writes · 6 months

Note

Hello!! I love your Korra X readers so I’m just gonna ask if you could do a Korra x Fem!reader (or GN up to you!) with the cliche plot of Reader being injured and not telling anyone until later? Hope you are doing well!!

YURR lets go. I initially wrote this as a fem!reader, but I didn't even use the reader's pronouns in this so, gender neutral reader it is!

Kiss It Better | Korra x Beifong!Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: With your girlfriend saving the world all the time, you take it as your job to not worry her with your own problems. If you needed help with something, you'd figure it out or get someone else's help. What happens when your "selflessness" nearly costs you an arm?

╰┈➤ WARNING: Injured!Reader, Suggestive Mentions, Cursing, Not Proofread, Beifong!Reader

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

It was a simple fracture. You were training with Bolin and a cluster of Earth hit you too hard in the arm. Bolin apologized and even offered to take you to the infirmary, but you rejected him.

One, you were a Beifong; you don't get hurt. Two, if you go to the infirmary, chances are you'll get a cast or some sort of sling. That'll worry your girlfriend, the Avatar, and with all the duties she had to attend to, your fractured arm was the least of her worries.

"Oh, fuck," you hissed, leaning back into your plush sofa. Typically, the plush cushions and fuzzy fabric would comfort you. The cushions would allow your muscles to relax and for your body to find comfort in the warm snuggles of your girlfriend's blanket. But now, the cushions only make your body hurt worse.

There was no support in the cushions. The plushiness was too plushy and the warm comfort typically found within the blanket was annoying.

"I'm home!" Korra announced. The woman kicked off her boots, put up her short hair, and plopped beside you on the couch.

You groaned, holding your bicep.

Korra tilted her head, raising a brow. "Hey, you okay? Was I too loud or something?"

Time slowed as you forced a laugh out of your chest. If you laughed too hard, your arm would ache. If you didn't laugh enough, Korra would assume something was wrong.

Nothing was wrong. At least, to her knowledge.

"Oh, sorry!" you smiled at her, "I was actually practicing this new joke Mako taught me. I was supposed to make this sound, but I guess I haven't mastered it yet."

"Oh... haha," Korra forced out of her. "No more taking joke suggestions from Mako. He doesn't have a funny bone in his body." The Avatar nestled her head on your chest. She hummed, snuggling into the warmth of your body.

"Right," you chewed on your lip. "I don't know what I was thinking."

"One, hit! Two, hit! Three--!"

"Okay!" you howled. You and Bolin have been training for three hours straight now. Something must've inspired Bolin because he's been sending over disks, boulders, and other forms of Earth toward you like there was no tomorrow. While he was losing pounds by sweating alone, your arm was screaming at you.

"Please stop moving me!" "I'm hurt!" "Why do you hate us?!"

You wished you could listen to your body. You really did. But you read somewhere that certain fractures can heal on their own with the proper rest and care.

You thought you could take it easy in training today, but obviously, Bolin had other plans.

"Oh," Bolin smiled, peeling himself away from his boxed stance. "Did I go too far? Sorry. Opal said something last night about guys working out and how she loved watching me train sometimes, so I wanted to work extra hard this practice so I wouldn't feel bad for showing off."

Your chest heaved up and down as the boy spoke. The fire in your arm was excruciating and it was spreading to your shoulders.

You trudged along the training center, going to a lousy bench where your water bottle and workout towel lay. "No, no," you told Bolin, "it's okay. I just need a break. That's all."

Lowering yourself onto the bench, your muscles and all the meat on your body felt like falling off the bone like you were a tenderly cooked piece of chicken. Your thighs ached and shook, like after an endless night with Korra. You took your towel and slung it over your good arm. You carefully opened your water bottle to take a sip.

Bolin followed after, mindlessly yapping about Opal and how pretty she was. Once he sat himself next to you and drank from his water, his eyes bulged out of his head, and water sprayed from his mouth.,

You whipped your head toward him, perplexed. "Oh, my Spirits! What was that?"

"What happened to your arm?" the boy exclaimed. He pointed at the swollen and bruised skin. Your rotator cuff was a deep purple with blue specs. He couldn't see it, but the bruising gave a pulsing sensation.

You scoffed and went for another sip of water. "Nothing. Just bumped into a pole."

"What kind of pole hit you like that?" he exclaimed again, now out of his seat. His green eyes were now filled with fear; his body trembled with worry.

You tried to shrug, but since your hurt arm was alarmingly tough and sore, only your good arm moved. "I don't know," you mumbled. "It was a while ago, I think. I can't really remember."

"Well, you have to at least let a nurse or someone qualified check you out! This looks bad, Beifong. No pole could've done this."

"Bolin," you rose to your feet. "I'm fine. Don't make me say it again." You didn't let Bolin get another word in as you gathered your things. "And Bolin, don't mention this to anyone."

Bolin can't keep a secret and honestly, it's your fault for telling him to keep one. You're his friend and Bolin doesn't believe in keeping his friends in danger. You need medical attention, even if you are too stubborn to admit it.

Immediately after practice, he ran to Mako who ran to Asami who told Korra.

When she first heard the news, Korra had mixed emotions. She was vexed because she didn't notice your pain and you didn't tell her, yet worried about the extremity of your injury. Could your arm fall off? What if the injury was actually worse underneath?

The Krew discussed your injury and how to intervene in your careless ways of living. There was a plan where they tricked you into going to the hospital, another where they took you out to dinner and would finesse you into spilling your guts, and then there's the plan they actually went through; the plan that made the most sense.

Korra was to go home with a smile on her face, cuddle and kiss on you for a while, and then ease into the conversation of training and injuries.

Mako thought the subtle conversation topic would force you to talk about your injury without actually forcing you.

Well, it's been two fucking hours of medical talk and Korra wasn't getting anywhere.

The two of you were cuddling on your bed, legs entangled with each other and her arms around your waist. She had her head on your good arm and from the corner of her eye, she could see the black and blue bruising that was growing to your neck.

Your pajamas acted as a pathetic way to hide it.

Korra was done playing the nice game. She had Asami in her head telling her to play the nice game and to ease into it. (She also had Mako claiming that Korra was unable to play the "nice-and-ease-into-it" game, but what Mako doesn't know won't kill him).

"Bolin told me," Korra spoke, her eyes fixated on the wall in front of you two.

You hummed, keeping your eyes closed. The ache and burn on your arm weren't as bad anymore. You also read somewhere that heat would inflame the injury more so after a quick lukewarm shower, you iced. You iced and replaced the ice for hours until Korra came home.

You were missing that ice right about now.

"Told you what?"

"That you have a disgusting bruise on your shoulder." Okay, so Bolin didn't describe it as disgusting, but what you don't know won't kill you either.

You snickered. "I ran into a pole, okay? It's not the big of a deal."

"Then why are you lying to me?" Korra pulled herself off of your chest. With delicate fingers, the Avater peeled the soft fabric off your shoulders.

The subtle movement of the fabric made you wince and the natural instinct was to push Korra away, so, you did. You pushed on her stomach to move her away from you. "Korra, don't."

"Oh, what are you gonna do?" she scoffed. Korra sat on her knees, shoulders squared to you and arms crossed over her chest. "Threaten me? You saw how that worked out with Bolin, nice move by the way." Korra's words were stern and leaning towards the angry side of things. Her nose scrunched while her nostrils flared. She was also gripping her arms so hard, her grip made marks.

"I didn't threaten him," you claimed.

"So, what would you call it? Being a bad friend? Telling him to keep your health a secret knowing damn well it's on the line?"

"My health is not on the line!" You've sat up from the bed now. Your bad arm rested on a mound of pillows and your good arm held it for support. "It's a tiny injury, sprain if you wanna go that far."

"That's rich," Korra scoffed. She shook her head, getting off the bed. "You can barely talk to me without the corner of your mouthing ticking from the pain. I can barely put my hands on your shirt and you can barely sit on the couch without groaning in pain."

You suddenly found interest in the ceiling. You took note of the texture and the color. You would find any new fact you could about this ceiling if it meant you could avoid Korra's burning gaze and her rising anger.

This is why you didn't want to tell her in the first place. She's worried about everyone else and for once, you wanted to be someone she doesn't have to worry about. But now she's here, yelling at you because she cares. Because you didn't tell her.

"I didn't want you to worry about me too," you mumbled. Your gaze dropped to the comforter. "You have so much on your plate, I wanted to ease the load. You shouldn't be stressed about me, you're the Avatar. You have more people to worry about."

Watching you struggle to look her in the eye, Korra sat herself on the bed. She put a soft hand on the mound of your knee, using her thumb to soothe the skin. "Hey," she spoke. "I am your girlfriend first and the Avatar second. I will always worry about you. You deserved to be worried about and cared for."

You swallowed thickly. The back of your throat scratched like you had a cold yet your mouth was eager to say something back. Your brain couldn't think of any words to say.

"Your struggles and problems aren't inferior to me. I want you to come to me with your troubles, not because I'm the Avatar, but because I'm your girlfriend. It's my job to care for you, to heal you when you're sick, and to pick you up when you're down. Master of the Elements or not, that's my job and it's yours too," she sighed. "So, please, for the first time, tell me what's wrong and what I can do to help you."

The moment your eyes locked with hers, a flood broke through you. You wept as you told her what was wrong with your arm and how long you've tried to sustain this injury, four days.

Korra could kick herself over and over again for not noticing how much pain you were in, but you were a good pretender. In some way, she had Bolin and Opal to thank. Without Bolin's sudden desire to train extra hard, you wouldn't be forced to stop pretending.

But instead of wallowing in self-pity and throwing a really weird party for the couple in her head, she comforted you. She pulled you to her chest and held you as tightly as she could without hurting you further.

The two of you stayed like that, you in her arms, for a while. You didn't take notice of the time spent in the position. You two focused on each other's breathing and warmth.

And finally, for the first time in a long time, you let Korra take care of you.

WC: 2,071

#pastel-peach-writes #gender-neutral terms #pastel peach writes #gender neutral terms #sapphic #avatar korra #the legend of korra #legend of korra #korra #korra fanfic #korra x y/n #korra x you #korra x reader #beifong!reader #lok x reader #lok fanfic #lok #legend of korra fanfiction #legend of korra fanfic

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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months

Note

Hi hi! I have a req- can you maybe please write a Megumi x reader where they get lost in a haunted house and the reader is too scared to move and Megumi helps her (as a stranger) and then it goes more from that ?

I fell in love with this immediately and needed to write that wonderful request of yours! Thank you so much darling, I'm crossing my fingers you like what I came up with 😭

Getting lost at a haunted house only to be saved by Megumi

Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: After your friends dragged you into a tunnel of terror at an amusement park despite your irrational fear of creepy stuff, you find yourself lost in your own panic. Until a sudden blue-eyed boy appears and helps you out...

Warnings: your friends are shitty, Megumi is a sweetheart, reader is obviously scared of creepy stuff lol

„This is probably the worst thing you ever made me do”, Megumi mutters, annoyed by the sheer sight in front of him.

When Gojo-sensei told them about a day off, he certainly didn’t see himself going to an amusement park with Itadori and Kugisaki. He should have stayed back, he could have read the new book he just bought, enjoying the silence of empty Jujutsu High while the others were out doing whatever they want. But instead, he finds himself surrounded by crying children with their hands covered in sweets, people bumping into him with every step he takes.

What on earth is he doing here?

“You’re such a pain in the ass, Fushiguro. How about going out and having some fun instead of making it your mission to look as if somebody killed your puppy? Geez.”

“Look, a haunted house!”, Yuji cries out, his eyes glossy from sheer excitement.

“Oh, I wanna go in!”

“I don’t wanna go in”, you protest while your friends literally drag you after themselves.

To be honest, the thought of going into a haunted house alone makes you want to leave immediately. If there’s one thing you hate, it’s creepy stuff. No matter if it’s as innocent as Halloween or things like horror films based on a true story. There is nothing worse than getting jump scared, feeling as if your heart will stop beating any minute, cold sweat running down your neck. No, there is absolutely no way in hell you will step one foot into this cursed place, you’ll just wait here and get some ice cream, you’ll-

“I really don’t wanna do this”, you whine into pitch-black darkness, heavy creepy music making you feel sick in an instant.

Your heartbeat hammers against your already aching chest, palm getting so sweaty that you are unable to hold onto the hand of your friend any longer.

“Hey, where are you? I-I think I lost you guys!”

No response, no sign of life. Just you, the darkness around you and your own blood rushing through your ears.

Fuck, you can’t do this alone. Where is the emergency exit when you need it? Is there somebody else around you?

“H-hello?”

No response, no sign of life.

Panic starts to rise in your chest, disturbing screams, violent laughter and creepy music drowning your head in nothing but thick fear. You need to get out of here as fast as possible.

Your wobbly feet carry you down the dark hallway. But instead of being able to simply sprint through the tunnel of horror, you are greeted by a never-ending hallway that is that is filled with macabre clowns decorating each and every centimetre around you. There aren’t many things that scare you more than strange dolls that look like Annabell herself, but clowns…You hated them since you were a child, no matter how friendly they looked.

And these ones definitely don’t.

“Are you lost, little one?”

That voice is close, too close for your liking. You rest your eyes for a second, pretend that this deep voice that shook you to your core isn’t really there. No, this must be part of the music, a stupid joke-

“I am still here.”

Something touches your arm. Out of instinct, you widen your glossy eyes, staring straight into the maniac grin of a clown.

A real clown.

Not just a doll.

Your body react on its own, a violent shriek escaping your lips.

Run.

As fast as you can, past the clown decorating the wall, straight into nothing but darkness while this little voice inside your head can’t stop laughing about your pathetic self. How old are you? 10?

It doesn’t matter. Your frightened eyes are darted fowards, adrenaline pumping through your veins while all you can think about is stepping through that door, getting out of this living nightmare as soon as possible. You just need to push yourself a little harder, get through this dark hallway right in front of you and it will be over, you are almost there-

You see stars. Before you are even process what happens, you bump into something hard and fall straight onto the floor with your head spinning in confusion. Was is a wall, a door? No, the dim light shows you the outline of a person. Your guts turn in an instant, the horrifying face of that clown you saw seconds ago still haunting your mind. Please, not another one of these actors.

It stretches out his hand, ready to grab you.

“NO!”, you scream on top of your lungs, crawling backwards in a desperate attempt to escape those fingertips.

Megumi can’t help but stare at your puny figure in sheer disbelief. Why the hell are you so scared? And why are you here on your own? Your thick and heavy breaths hang in the air between you both, distracting him from his mission to find a way out of here after Itadori and Kugisaki ran away like some 4-year old kids.

“Calm down, I’m just trying to find my way out of here”, he calmly announces.

You blink against the darkness around you, too stunned to say a single word. That is definitely a boy with a voice that could calm down entire oceans, making your heartbeat tame down in an instant.

“Let me help you up, okay? Give me your hand.”

There it is, his big hand stretched out in front of you. Like in trance you take it, palms still covered in cold sweat when he lifts you off the ground with ease. In the dim light you aren’t able to see anything but the outline of his features, his tall and actually quite muscular frame.

“We’ll get out of here together, just don’t let go of my-“

In the matter of seconds, your whole body clings onto his arm for what feels like dear life, nails digging into his firm biceps without mercy. He can’t leave you alone here like your friends did, there is absolutely no way in hell you’ll let go of this boy.

Much to Megumi’s fortune, the room is so dark that you can’t tell the deep blush creeping up his face. You’re a girl with a voice sounding so angelic that it caught him off guard, with your breast pressed against his arm-

Oh god.

“Let’s go”, he mumbles.

He forces himself to stare in front of him, to not risk a look at you while tumbling down the dark hallway with you by his side. But the second he opens the next door filled with red lights, his gaze wanders to his left side, gets greeted by your doe eyes immediately.

Time stands still, Megumi’s heart pounding as hard as yours when all he does is staring at your way too gorgeous but frightened features. You have to be around his age, even though it’s hard to tell in that strange light. But oh your face definitely matches your angelic voice.

“Thank you for not leaving me alone”, you mumble against his arm, eyes directed towards the next door ahead of you.

“There’s no need to thank me. How did you end up in here anyway if you are this scared?”

“My friends forced me and left me after the first door on my own.”

Megumi huffs in response. Well, that definitely sounds way too familiar. When he sees these two idiots again…

“But aren’t they aware of the fact that you’re scared?”

“Everyone is. But I guess they just thought it would be funny…”

“It’s not”, Megumi replies in an instant.

“You don’t deserve this. It might not make sense to them, but you are stressed. And no friend should want to see you like this for their own amusement.”

You swallow hard, still holding onto his arm tightly. Of course you know that he’s right, that your “friends” aren’t suppose to treat you this way. But you’d never say it out loud, would never confront them.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

His voice catches your attention just before you start to panic over another set of creepy dolls laughing in the corner, his arm moving you closer to him.

“Don’t look at them. Look at me.”

When you gaze up at him again, his world stops spinning for a minute. You really seem to trust him, your hands still intertwined with his arm, your body firmly pressed against his side. You look so lovely, seem like such a nice person. It becomes more and more personal to get you out of here.

“I’m sure we are close to the exit. Focus on me, okay?”

“My name is (y/n)”, you suddenly blurt out.

“I’m Megumi Fushiguro. Nice to meet you (y/n).”

Out of his mouth, your name sounds so relaxing, so melodic. His calm voice really suits the ocean of his dark blue eyes that never break contact with yours even though he walks down the hallway with you by his side.

“I think this is the last door.”

With a swift motion, he opens it. Slowly but surely his features get light up by lantern light, the cries and screams from the amusement park ringing in your ears again. You take a look around you.

He really did it.

You made your way out of the tunnel of horror.

“Thank you so much for helping me out”, you mutter, pulling him into a tight hug before you are able to stop yourself.

What would have happened if he didn’t find you, if he didn’t keep a cool head and lead you through the right doors? You rest your head against his broad chest, heartbeat calming down completely. How lucky you are to have met him.

“Oh – uh…No problem at all”, he mutters.

Megumi has to tell himself over and over to keep a straight face, to not allow himself to turn redder than the devil himself. But you hold onto him so tightly, so thankful for nothing but the fact that he guided you out of a haunted house.

“Who’s that girl, Fushiguro?”

You let go of him immediately, eyes darting towards a girl with short brown hair coming your way while dragging a pink-haired boy behind her like a bag of trash.

“After you left me alone in there, I met (y/n) and she helped me finding a way out.”

“Nice to meet you (y/n)!”, the other boy greets you instantly, a kind grin plastered on your face.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have helped him, Fushiguro fits just right in a tunnel of horror”, the girl comments dryly.

“There you are! We thought the clowns already ate you up!”

Oh no, not now, not in front of him and his friends. You want to sprint away, to hide yourself from your “friends”. But instead, all you can do is stare blankly why both of them approach you with a toxic smile.

“Is this what you consider funny? Dragging (y/n) in there and leaving her alone even though you know she’s scared?”

Megumi’s body tenses up immediately as he positions himself between you and the other girls. They really have some nerves, approaching you like this after what they did. There is no way he’ll let them get away with that.

“Huh? Who the hell are you and why would you care?”

“Because I was scared as well and (y/n) helped me to find a way out.”

He glimpses at you for the split of a second. It’s more than crystal clear that he’s lying. You need to stand up for him, defend him, tell them the truth.

“Oh, you’re braver than I thought (y/n)”, one of them mutters.

“Yeah…Well…We see each other tomorrow, okay? Bye?”

And with that, they disappear into the evening, their awkward walk leaving you speechless for a second.

“Promise me you’ll never let them treat you like this again”, he finally speaks up again.

“I…I promise….”

“Can you just give her your number so that we’re able to grab something to eat? I’m starving”, the girl next to him complains.

“Yeah, I’m super hungry as well!”

“Can’t you just shut up for a minute?”, Megumi hisses under his breath.

“But…would you mind giving me your number?”

-Bonus-

"Megumi-chan!"

His steps quicken in an instant, carrying down the hallway of Jujutsu High at high tempo. If there's one thing he's not in the mood for right now, it's definetely Gojo-sensei. Itadori and Kugisaki probably told him ever little thing about you.

"There's no running for me. Tell me, who's the girl you've been with today?"

He can't help but roll his eyes, the wide grin on his teacher's face simply driving him insane.

"I just met her today", he mumbles in response.

"Don't forget to use protection, I don't wanna be a grand-"

"CAN YOU JUST SHUT UP"

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