#like...I get ghost... I too would fall head over heels over this silly man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vodika-vibes · 7 months

Text

Your Favorite Person

Summary: After being late for your date, your favorite person in the galaxy decides to make it up to you.

Pairing: Commander Bly x Reader

Word Count: 1061

Warnings: Uh...suggestive?

Tagging: @trixie2023 and @the-bad-batch-baroness (who encouraged me to write for Bly, lol)

A/N: Bly gets no love, so here I am, creating love for Bly. Also, this is partly practice for me writing Bly for the next part in my Magic and Knights AU.

Divider by Saradika

He’s late.

A small pout crosses your lips as you swing your legs, allowing the heels of your boots to thump into the stone wall you’re sitting on. He’s late, and he hasn’t even called to tell you when he’s going to arrive. You continue kicking your heels against the concrete wall as you dig your comm out of your purse, absently checking for missed holos…or missed messages.

None.

Your pout becomes more pronounced.

You open up the chat between you and your favorite person in the galaxy and send him a series of question marks. And then some sad faced emojis.

The sound of heavy footsteps approaching you causes you to look up, and you smile at the man running over to you. He stops in front of you and hops up onto the concrete barrier to sit next to you, panting for breath.

“Sorry, cyare! The meeting ran over so-”

“Bly, did you run here all the way from the Jedi temple?” You ask worriedly.

“...I didn’t want to be too late!” He says defensively, “How long have you been waiting?” He glances at the chrono on his comm, and his face falls, “You’ve been waiting almost an hour?!”

“It’s okay!” You reassure as you lean your weight against his shoulder, “Work is work, after all.”

Bly sighs and leans back against you, “What did I do to deserve someone as amazing as you?”

You giggle and turn on the barrier to look up at him, your hands coming out to cup his face, “You bought me a chocolate rose, and said-”

“Something sweet for someone sweet,” Bly finishes with a sly grin, “I can’t believe that worked.” He admits.

“Oh, it was easily the most corny way a man has ever hit on me before,” You agree with a laugh, “or since, for that matter-”

“Wait, men still hit on you?” Bly asks, straightening, “Where am I when this is happening?”

“Men don’t hit on me in front of you, Bly.” You retort with a raised brow.

“What do you do when they hit on you?” He asks with a furrowed brow.

“I tell them the truth. I’m not interested and I’m spoken for.” You reply absently as you rub your thumbs across the yellow tattoos on his face, “The only man I’m interested in, Bly, is you.”

He releases a soft sigh, “I know. I still don’t like that other people hit on you when I’m not around.”

You release a laugh, “I would be surprised if you did.” You lean in and brush your lips against his, a delighted giggle falling from you as he hooks his arms around you and immediately deepens the kiss.

He pulls you so you’re sitting on his lap and breaks the kiss, only to press light, teasing, kisses across your face. Bly’s grip is firm around you, clutching you tightly as though he’s afraid that you’re going to slip away. “I love you,” He murmurs as he kisses your nose.

“Love you too,” You reply as you lean into his kisses, “Our reservation was canceled.” You add quietly.

“Mm, sorry.” He murmurs quietly.

You shake your head and lightly direct his lips towards yours, “I’m not mad,” You whisper, your lips ghosting against his, “How about we go to my place, and we order some horribly greasy fast food, and we just spend the night together?”

Bly hums thoughtfully, “You got all dressed up though,” He replies, as he drags his calloused hand down the soft material of the shirt you’re wearing.

“I got dressed up for you, you silly man. Not for other people.”

“Hm…” He takes the soft material of your shirt and rubs it between two fingers, “Well, if you want to model for me, who am I to stop you?”

“Exactly!” You reply with a grin. You shift on his lap, and then hop to the ground, with Bly on your heels. You take his hand with yours, and lace your fingers together, before you start tugging him in the direction of your place.

Bly allows you to lead him for a moment, and then he tugs you down a side street and he pulls you flush against him. He walks you backwards until your back is pressed against the wall behind you, and he leans in to kiss you. “So pretty,” He murmurs just before his lips meet yours.

You slide your hand up his chest, and then wrap it around his neck, allowing him to pull you closer, “You just can’t keep your hands off me,” You tease quietly.

He kisses you quickly. Once, twice, three times…and then he breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against yours. “Course not, have you seen yourself? Absolute perfection.” His hands slide down your sides, teasing but not improper, “Food might have to wait,” He adds with a small grin.

“Yeah?” You ask, shivering as his hands ghost down your body, “You have other plans?”

“Mm…” His lips trail to your jaw, and then down your neck, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses against the tender skin there, “I do have plans.” Bly promises as he ghosts his lips to just under your ear, pulling a quiet moan from you, “They involve you and me…”

“Go on,” You whisper.

He chuckles, “With no clothes and maybe that silky rope that you keep in your closet.” Bly offers, and then he pulls away to meet your gaze, and mischief slides across his features, “But only if you behave, princess.”

You flush and press your forehead against his chest, “...I can behave.” You say, flustered.

“Mm. You’ll have to prove it, princess.” He tilts your head back and kisses you deeply, “I’m not convinced that you can.” Bly adds with a wide grin. He kisses you one more time, and then takes your hand with him, “But, we have to get home first.”

You whine low, and Bly laughs, “Oh, my adorable little princess,” He kisses your forehead once, chastely, “You have to be patient. No one is allowed to see you like I do.”

“Jealous,”

“Damn straight I am,” Bly agrees, he kisses your forehead one more time, and then guides you back to the street, delighting in the way you’re blushing, and already working on a series of plans that will make you blush for him even more.

#star wars #tcw #commander bly x reader #bly x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction

41 notes · View notes

incompleteth0ts · 2 years

Text

Seafam week👑🐚

Day three

Daddy's home

Neptune's 'shrine', if you could even call it, was covered in layers of dust and had a stale smell in it like week-old seaweed and barnacles. The only thing inside the offering basket was a half-drunk Starbucks chai tea that was probably placed at lunch that was most likely placed there to get thrown away.

The steps had crusted mud stomped all over the white marble steps, old crunchy leaves were blown into every small space they could find, and Percy didn't even want to think about all the bugs.

Looking at it makes Percy skittish. Like this isn't how things should be before the anger of such blatant disrespect can spread past his calloused fingertips and into his mind Percy grabs one of the Scrub Daddies that one of the shrine keepers was kind enough to lend him.

The water quickly turned from translucent blue to dirt black. Copper walls were scrubbed clean to show off their true pearl white glow.

The floors are mopped until there is a similar color to the walls. Trash bags are loaded and tossed out front to be dumped later. The sun has long set by the time Percy calls it quits.

The wind nips at Percy's watery nose, and Roman ghosts point and whisper at him, 'Graecus', 'Graecus'.

Well, all this Graecus wanted to do was take a shower and sleep like the dead.

The morning chatter of the cohort wakes Percy before the sun has a chance to. It feels unnatural to have so many people in his cabin, or we'll it's not his cabin or Neptune's; it's simply a cabin full of demigods.

Demigods like Octavian hate the boy and his father.

Breakfast is just as fast-paced as yesterday, with whispered conversations about the missing son of Jupiter. Hazel and Frank are the only ones who sit close to Percy. Hazel to his left and Frank to the right. Elbows bump with every action, Hazel giggles watching Frank try and reach across both big three children to grab the syrup.

Percy leans forward, his chest pushed against his outstretched arms. There's a Canadian joke on his tongue before Percy even needs to think about it.

Percy's lips brush the outer shell of Frank's before the bench, underneath them tilts back, and the next thing they know, they're on the floor.

Chatter falls silent as everyone turns to see what the three Demigods had gotten themselves into. They see Reynas' feet before her voice; her upside-down face of disappointment is enough to stall their laughter.

The female Praetor shakes her head, ordering everyone to clean up and go about their daily schedules.

The walk towards Neptune's shrine is lonely; Hazel and Frank had branched off to do their own thing promising to meet up with him when they finish. Clutching onto the picnic basket full of disinfectant tools, candles, and a loaf of bread from breakfast.

He felt the aura of the holy shrine grow stronger and stronger the closer he walked. The outer walls looked weather-beat and poorly decorated with dirty fishing nets and dying coral. He wonders how many gallons it would take to clean the outside, too.

The inside looks the way Percy left it, which he is deeply grateful for. The bronze offer bowl warps his reflection and the silly faces he makes into it. Despite how beautiful the walls were constructed, the 'shrine' itself was nothing more than a three-legged desk with a bowl placed on top.

The loaf is gently set inside, and the candles are lit and placed aside. A chill wind blows into the temple, and with it the smell of the sea, the smell of home. Percy almost regrets carrying that deceiving old bag.

"Yes, I also wish ye hadn't decided to carry that 'deceiving old bag' as well, boyo."

Percy spun on his heel, nearly dropping his basket in shock.

A man was standing at the entrance. He smoked a long pipe and wore a traditional lighthouse keeper hat. His navy blue trench coat was buttoned shut like he was expecting a storm. His face was old and wrinkled, mostly concealed behind a forest of grey that hid the lower half of his face. He didn't look like the type of man to smile or tolerate nonsense. Unlike Juno, he did not hide his godly presence, and it was like sailing in the eye of a storm.

Percy's knees buckled under him as he dropped into a kneel.

"Rise now, me boy, you makes these old sea legs ache just lookin at you."

Percy rose on two unsteady feet. For weeks, he's prayed and begged for an answer of any kind. For someone to tell him who he is, all he can do is stare wide-eyed at the old God as he takes a look over the temple.

"Um Neptune...sir, my name is Percy Jackson, I'm a member of the 5th cohort, I was accepted last week." Speaking to a God- his father in such a formal way leaves a static taste in his throat and a needle prick in his hippocampus.

"I see, makes ya one of my elvers then, or would you prefer to be a foal." The old man's voice is thick with a smokers lung that Percy didn't even know immortals could get. Percy wants to grab the man by his shoulders and shake him to make the conversation go faster. Maybe if he shook him hard enough, his memories might just fall out of his patchy pockets and onto the freshly cleaned floors.

"Words flying that you've lost your memories kid and sadly that is not something I can return to you kid," Neptune must see the chest fallen look on Percy's face when he speaks his next words. "But despite that, you and I both know of who took them whether you realize it or not."

He's right, or at least partially. Once upon a time, Percy would have known or at least had a suspension. But now? He just feels lost. He wants to ask his father to tell him but doesn't in fear of overstepping; few Demigods get to see their godly parent once. Percy's lucky that he hasn't left yet.

"Listen here, child. I cannot tell ye what you do not know, but understand this; in due time, what confuses you now will make sense soon."

Neptune's for grew brighter and brighter. "At nightfall, you will be given a quest. You will accept it whether you care for it or not, and I'm afraid that's all the information I may give you."

In a blink of an eyes Neptune hadbflashed away, leaving Percy to think about his father's words.

"Percy," Hazels head peaked around the temples' entrance. "Come on, we have to get ready. Quick."

"Ready? Ready for what?"

Frank snuck up from around Hazels back. "For the war games, but we gotta be fast; Gwen will rip us in half if we're late."

Percy ran after Hazel and Frank's heel and back towards camp. By the time the war games come and go, his conversation with Neptune will be completely forgotten. The only remesents of it being two candle stubs and over done toast.

#seafam #Seafam week #percy jackson #hazel levesque #frank zhang #neptune #camp jupiter

19 notes · View notes

agentnico · 1 year

Text

Ghosted (2023) Review

Adrien Brody’s crappy French accent in this movie I could have forgiven, if only I haven’t seen John Wick: Chapter 4 a couple of weeks ago where I experienced the most delightful Parisian mouthing of Bill Skarsgard’s villain, so now Brody’s French-ish slur sticks out like a sore thumb. And boy is this one sore thumb. Everything is not j’aime up in this joint.

Plot: Cole falls head over heels for enigmatic Sadie, but then makes the shocking discovery that she's a secret agent. Before they can decide on a second date, Cole and Sadie are swept away on an international adventure to save the world.

This is the third time Chris Evans and Ana de Armas are co-starring in a film together, following the fantastic murder mystery Knives Out and the Netflix action film The Gray Man. As such this pairing on paper seems like a natural one, however upon seeing the new Ghosted film on Apple TV+ I have made quite the peculiar discovery - these two have absolutely zero chemistry. I mean none whatsoever. All their flirting comes of as cringeworthy, the romance is none existent and I didn’t buy into their relationship whatsoever. Their kissing scenes reminded me of that Andrew Garfield/Emma Stone SNL sketch where they don’t know how to kiss on camera. It was just awkward. And when in a rom-com your central couple have no chemistry, well then the movie is doomed to fail as is. Also, talk about a miscast! Chris Evans is supposed to play a farmer boy with an inhaler having an innocent outlook on life, yet it’s so hard not to see him as the alpha male, as such making his casting very questionable. Ana de Armas is usually a likeable presence, however, again, here is very bland and forgettable. And wears a wig. A very obvious wig, made the more obvious by the Twitter community, so thank you guys. It’s a shame really, as one could have easily done a trashy silly spy rom-com with A-list actors. Just look at Mr & Mrs Smith - an absolutely stupid movie but its hard to deny the sex appeal of Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie together... though obviously that hasn’t aged too well but back then they were fire!

There’s a lot of talent involved behind the camera here. Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick who are known as the writers of the very successful and entertaining Deadpool movies have story credits here, and Dexter Fletcher is in the director’s chair. Evidently all three must have been undergoing some kind of collective erectile dysfunction causing their creative juices to dry out like water in a desert, as this movie consists of all the possible Hollywood plot cliches imaginable, with a painfully unfunny script, boring direction and general nonsense. Fletcher is fresh off the heels of his previous directorial outing with the Elton John biopic Rocketman that was visually filled with colour and charm, yet here the directing is so shallow and plain. So uninspired. As for the action sequences, they are there I guess. There’s a somewhat passable fight/chase on a bus, but even then, all those stunts you would have seen before.

Ghosted would have been a perfectly acceptable affair back in the early 2000s, however in 2023 it is simply ticking off every generic cliché of a Hollywood action film, only not anywhere as good as the movies its ripping off, nor that funny either. There’s even a few pointless cameos thrown in, and I do mean pointless. So in a nutshell, not worth getting Apple TV+ for anyway, however if you’re wondering about that streaming service, there is a delightful movie about the backstory of Tetris that came out on there recently starring Taron Egerton, and that’s actually much more interesting.

Overall score: 3/10

2 notes · View notes

dollwritesarchive · 3 years

Note

" i'll walk you home. " shang chi

this screams protective bff who caught feelings!shang chi and no i am not taking criticism 🥰

𝓈𝒶𝒻𝑒𝓉𝓎 𝓃𝑒𝓉

fandom marvel

featuring shang-chi x BFF!reader (f)

rating sfw, but heed warnings

content warning reader is very drunk (practically incoherent), her date is a creep and tries to gaslight/take advantage of her, some swearing, confrontation, unrequited pining (him)

summary shang-chi makes sure you get home safely.

word count 1.4k / mini musing

attention don’t ever, ever, ever go out with a stranger without letting someone (friend or family) know where you’re going and how long you’re supposed to be there! also, please please be wary and careful when drinking alcohol with strangers AND REMEMBER that if some asshole ever tries anything like this on you: shang chi said YOU’RE A TEN, YOU DONT OWE HIM SHIT. do not repost or translate. reblog & give feedback 💗 every reblog is a kiss for shang-chi on his pretty little face.

the two of you had an agreement, made upon the creation of your tinder account. you would text with a code, a simple one, if you were ever in trouble while out on a date, and you would always keep your location on for him.

for a while, the agreement seemed silly. sure, the guys you’d meet online either wanted anonymous hookups or had a bad habit of ghosting or a plethora of issues with a crazy ex, but they were never… predatory. Shang-Chi was simply being the over-protective best friend, you thought, and while you were grateful he cared so much, you didn’t believe you’d actually need to use the code.

until tonight.

⚠️⚠️⚠️

thankfully, it was just emojis, because you were having a difficult time seeing past the haze as you wobble atop cumbersome and expensive stiletto pumps. the strobe lights were making you feel sick, and you couldn’t tell if you had one or three cellphones in your palm.

“Come on, pretty girl, let’s get outta here.”

“No,” you mumble, but the man whose name currently escapes you has already grabbed your bicep and is guiding you towards the door, none too gently. “No, I want to stay and wai—t on my friend. I just texted him!” you didn’t want to go, but your feet were trying to walk, at the very least, so this man wouldn’t drag you. “I want to wait on Shang-Chi—“

“Why’d you go and do that, huh?” he asks, turning to look down at you. he might’ve been trying to look hurt, or maybe it was his intent to look as angry as he did, but either way it made a knot tie itself in your gut. “We were having fun, weren’t we?”

“Yeah, but—“

“Weren’t you having fun with me? You told me you were having a blast, remember? You said you wanted me to take you home with me.”

you scrunch your nose. you were almost sure you didn’t say that… did you? “I… did?”

“Yeah,” he insists, pulling you outside. the neons from the signs on the windows hurts your eyes and one hand flees to shield your face from them, “that’s why I got us an uber, silly.”

“Oh.” confused, with your head swimming, it’s the only response you can give. you don’t remember telling him to get an uber, and you definitely don’t remember wanting to go home with him, but you were so wasted that you couldn’t be sure if you really did. your date walks ahead to grab the door to the backseat for you to get in.

staring at the ground with a perma-pout upon your countenance, you stumble on to the gritty concrete and misstep. the pin-like heel on your shoe snaps against the ill-distribution of your weight and the unfortunate, awkward footing. you crumble to the ground with your palms outstretched in an attempt to break your fall with a low huff. “Owie.” you mumble beneath your breath, just as another car, this one red in hue, pulls into the parking space beside your uber, and someone familiar steps out of the backseat.

“Shang-Chi!” your pronunciation of his name is slurred heavily by the numbing of booze-saturated tiers, but you feel a wave of relief as he hurries over and takes both of your hands to pull you to your feet. hardly aware of the red uber backing out of the space and driving off, you stare at your friend in disbelief. “You got here fast!” or did you text him a long time before? time seemed to move differently the more inebriated you became.

“Of course I did,” he exhales, holding your hands closer to examine them, “are you okay?” glancing down at them, too, you realize they’re covered in tiny scrapes from when you fell, with microscopic rock-shaped dents in your skin. his brows furrowed, and he uses his digits to sweep any minuscule debris off of them.

“She’s fine.” your date speaks up as he staggers towards you, but you take note of the way Shang-Chi angles his body in front of yours, creating a human wedge between you and he. the date holds out his hand, “C’mon, sweetheart. I’ll take you home—“

you shake your head, sheepish, but it’s your friend who speaks. “Nah, she’s good, man. I got her. You have yourself a good night.”

“Hey, man,” your date grinds his teeth, taking a step closer and glares at Shang-Chi, “I paid for her drinks and her ride. What, I’m supposed to get nothing? Don’t be a cockblock.”

Shang-Chi’s eyes are usually the warmest you’ve ever seen, like soft moonstones. however, when that final sentence filled the atmosphere between them, you could swear his eyes went black with anger. “Hey man,” he mutters, reaching into his pocket and grabbing his wallet, “let me cover that for you.” there’s an acidic bite to his tone as he stuffs two twenty dollar bills against the man’s chest with a flat palm and a smack that resonates in the night air around you, “And just, while I’m in a giving mood, have some advice to go with that. You take a lady out, pay for her drinks, and expect to get something in return, you deserve someone like me to knock your dick in the dirt. This girl right here?” waving his hand in gesture to you, he glares at the fuming man before him, “she’s a ten, and she doesn’t owe you shit. Remember that, playboy.”

whether he wanted to or not, your creepshow date backed off. grumbling to himself, he slams the door of the uber and the car takes off. Shang-Chi has already turned his attention back to you, grabbing your hand. “Come on,” he says, the softness returning to his velvety voice, “I’ll walk you home.”

“I can’t,” you whine, stumbling forward with your bottom lip sticking out. pointing down at your feet, you add like a child that is sad that her favorite toy is broken, “my shoe…”

he takes a moment to look at the shoe, kneeling down, and pats both of his shoulders. “Hands here.” you do as instructed, steadying yourself against the sturdiness of the broad expanse. “Right foot,” you lift your right foot, the one with the mangled stiletto, and he slides it off. to describe the relief your foot felt after the killer accessory had been subtracted would’ve been impossible. “Left.” you lift your left foot, and he takes that one off, too. when he’s finished, he clutches them together in one hand and whirls around, offering his back to you. “All right, now hop on.”

normally, you would’ve been excited; piggyback rides were always a staple in your friendship, but you felt a strange, sinking guilt as you latch on to him, and he begins to trek the crosswalk. why did he have to come and save you from some creep? why was it his responsibility to make sure you weren’t coaxed into doing something you’d regret? it didn’t seem fair to you— and so, you nuzzle your face into the nape of his neck, arms hanging loosely around his shoulders. “Sorry,” you mumble, half coherent with your cheek smushed into his skin. you can smell the scent of his shampoo, feel the dampness in his short tendrils, and you wonder if he had been just out of the shower, about to lie down and sleep for the night. the thought makes the guilt in you flare.

“C’mon now, don’t say that.” he insists, chortling softly. “You don’t have to be sorry. None of that was your fault, you know that, right? You did the right thing. I’m proud of you.”

your lids are heavy, so you close them, your mind beginning to numb with impending exhaustion. “I’m sorry that you have to take care of me… it shouldn’t be up to you.”

Shang-Chi takes a while to respond, because every response upon his tongue would’ve been a confession. his heart was beating wildly out of tempo at the prospect of telling you how he felt, but finally he settles for a, “I’ll always take care of you. You know that, don’t you?”

you don’t answer him. at first, he’s unsure if he’s said something wrong. then, he feels steady breath against the nape of his neck, and he realizes you’d fallen asleep.

maybe next time, he thinks, holding your legs close to his ribs.

#shang chi #shang chi x reader #shang chi x you #shang chi imagine #shang chi fluff #shang chi x y/n #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel fluff

2K notes · View notes

sukirichi · 3 years

Text

acquainted

You had no intentions of becoming acquainted with the clan your family had cut ties with, but when Naoya Zenin himself is willing to teach you a lesson and you’re determined to show him what you’re capable of, it becomes a silly game of power and dominance.

REQUEST. naoya putting reader back to her place

WARNINGS: Naoya Zenin, rough sex, orgasm denial, face fucking, slight voyeurism, degradation, slight bondage, cowgirl riding, manhandling, spanking, hate sex

WC. 5.4k+

NOTES. Because Naoya is my favorite, his fic is the only one I’ve ever edited, LOL. Even though this is requested, this is written out of self-indulgence, purely because I love Naoya and even though he’s nasty, he’s my comfort character. And freaking FINALLY I have written more for this man. I worship this King 👑

There were so many ways this day had gone wrong. First, your shower broke. Second, the maintenance men couldn’t come until late in the afternoon, so you had to drive all the way to school looking like a half-mess. You weren’t a slob, of course, but you were beyond irritable at the thought your hair felt greasier than most.

So when an unfamiliar mop of blonde hair sat at your place, the sight of pierced ears meeting your gaze as you smiled at the young man, you had to clutch your bag tighter. No need to be harsh to anyone; you reminded yourself.

“Hi,” you greeted as politely as you could.

The young man in your seat was handsome — terribly so — feline eyes emphasized with an eyeliner, and stunning green eyes that peered up at you with utmost boredom. He looked familiar, but you couldn’t pinpoint where you’d seen him before.

“I believe you’re in my seat.”

You expected he’d kindly take another seat since the hall was empty, but he only leaned back in your seat, brow raised with a slight smirk. “So?”

Your mouth fell agape, hands falling at your sides. Who was this guy? “What do you mean, so? Get the fuck out of my seat.”

“Women,” he rolled his eyes, “Always so tempered and dirty mouthed,” the words felt like stinging slap in your face, and he easily read through you when he snickered to himself, waving a hand in the air as if he was swatting a fly away. “I’m already sitting here, so go find someplace else. I came here first.”

“You little — who do you think you are?”

“Who do you think you are for speaking to me? Did I give you permission?”

His condescending voice made you lunge at him if not for your friend’s hand wrapping at your arm, shooting worried glances over the guy. His smirk deepened when your friend pulled away, the words mutter under her breath. “Come on, let’s go,” she tugged you away despite your protests, pushing your shoulders down to make you sit. Once out of earshot, she rolled her eyes. “I seriously hate that guy. Don’t you ever involve yourself with him.”

“Who’s that prick anyway? He acts so high and mighty like he’s some rich daddy’s son. Look, he’s totally claiming my seat as his!”

“That’s Naoya Zenin, and yeah, he is some rich daddy’s son,” she confirmed, shivering at the mere mention of his name. “He’s an absolutely big misogynist. Don’t be fooled by his pretty face — he’s the worst fuckboy to ever exist. That dick of his isn’t worth getting fucked over. He’s already made half the women in school cry and run after him like a horde of lovesick zombies,” your friend gagged with a shake of her head, “It’s terrifying, actually.”

“Fucking asshole,” you hissed under your breath, sending side glances at the corner of your eye.

That stupid guy was still in your seat, a bored expression on his handsome face, his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks at every blink. He just had to be a sexist pig with that gorgeous face — no good men existed anymore. “Whatever. He’ll get a taste of his own medicine soon.”

“Whatever it is you’re planning, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“I’m doing this for all of us,” you announced with your spine straightened. “I’m not letting a man walk like that acting like he’s got the whole world at his feet. I’ll teach him a lesson or two.”

“You do know he can sue you if you punch him right?”

“Who said I was going to punch him?” a smirk painted your lips at the same time he felt your eyes burning holes at the side of his face, your expression even more triumphant when he tilted his head to the side, eyebrow cocked at your gaze. He must’ve assumed you’d fallen for his looks judging by the satisfied smile on his face, making you laugh because it would be fun to teach him a lesson. “No, I have a much more interesting plan in mind.”

It turned out that Naoya wasn’t that much of a stranger.

You had his reputation to thank for — people spoke his name left and right that it was nearly impossible not to know of him. It had you wondering how you managed to live through university so long without knowing him when the name drowned you; he was a Zenin.

No wonder that name was so familiar.

The Zenin’s were a close business partner of your family, but they cut off ties with their company years ago due to them having an intolerable attitude. Clearly, it ran in the blood, and their heir manifested it so well.

Thoughts of Naoya and his stupid face were soon drowned out by expensive champagne, the golden liquid sparkling in your hands. You had to attend this dinner gala where businessmen and powerful families alike conjoined for a formal opportunity of forming connections and solidifying deals, pressuring you to be at your best behaviour lest you wanted your black card to be cut off.

You made your way through the crowd to get another one of those hors d oeuvres, opting to just sit in the corner while you watched your family plaster on big, fake smiles with even louder, faker laughter.

It was quite sad, really, that people had to do stuff like this, but who were you to complain when it was what fed you on a silver plate all the time?

For now, you just wanted to enjoy the new dress your mother had gotten you, the silk black material hugged around your curves delectably. Pearl drop earrings hung to frame the sides of your face, legs lengthened and accentuated with stiletto heels.

You felt sexy — especially when you got lingering gazes from men who were slightly older and definitely richer, though you made no move.

The last thing you wanted was to become someone’s trophy wife when you could become so much more. Plus, only your parents had the task of befriending people and building trust with others. You were only here to help represent the name somewhat with your pretty face, not really having much of an intention to be acquainted with anyone.

You swiped another glass of fizzy alcohol from the waiter that passed by, glossy red lips pinched around the glass when a sultry voice mused at your ear, “Still can’t find a seat?”

Swirling around so fast that the contents nearly poured out the glass, you weren’t surprised to see Naoya fucking Zenin stood before you, his tall stature draped in only the finest and hand-stitched three piece suit.

He looked absolutely delectable this way, earrings glimmering under the golden chandeliers and eyes lined with kohl, the aura of elegance that perfectly concealed his less than pleasing personality excessively charming.

You were beyond appalled.

“Still can’t find a brain?” you retorted with a roll of your eyes, eyes still narrowed at Naoya’s displeased ones as you dunk your drink in one go. “What are you doing here, pig?”

“I’ll let that comment slide once — only because you look hot tonight,” his predatory gaze ran over your form, the careful pattern of him pausing at the swell of your breasts sliding to the curve of your hips heating up each inch of your skin. “And it’s Naoya for you. Naoya Zenin, the rightful heir of the Zenin Corp—”

“What’s that scent you’re wearing? Baby powder? Fitting for your cute face, actually.”

Naoya’s jaw clenched, clearly unaccustomed to people cutting off his holiness, and you had to bite down on your lip to prevent the chuckles from slipping through. “It’s Tom Ford.”

“Hmm, why am I not surprised? My horrible ex also wore the same scent. Maybe it’s a trademark for all limp losers, huh?” Naoya opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it, stepping forward to grab at the space between his tie to pull him down. His face was mere centimetres away from you, close enough that his breath ghosted over your lips, the intense anger flaring through those eyes hot enough to burn you. “You act so smug and defensive, Naoya. Trying to have a big man personality to conceal a small dick?”

“I have nothing to prove to you.”

“You don’t need to prove me anything,” you glanced down at his pants with a smirk, ignoring the heat pulsing in your veins because the sight contradicted your words. There was a noticeable bulge inside those shiny black slacks, though the last thing you wanted him to see was the way your mouth watered in anticipation. “I already know what I need to know.”

“Yeah? You and your shitty girlfriends can’t stop talking about my dick?”

You shrugged sarcastically, “You know women. We’re tireless complainers.”

Naoya’s jaw ticked upon you using his words against him, his hands coming up to caress at your neck, his nails scratching behind the thick silver chain you wore.

From afar and in the eyes of others, people would’ve thought you and Naoya were simply getting a little too heated, his lips dipped to graze your ear while his slender fingers pressed a little tighter into your air pipe. Your positions could easily be mistaken for Naoya seducing you, and you supposed he was, since your body responded differently from your verbal protests.

“You should watch what you’re saying,” he warned, voice low with warning. “I could easily dump your body into a river and no one would even notice. In fact, maybe the world might even thank me for doing them a service and ridding them of a spiteful woman like you.”

“Oh, pretty boy,” you chuckled back and stood to your tippy toes. One of your hands wrapped around his neck to forcefully tilt his neck to yours, nose pressed above his collar to inhale the intoxicating masculine scent he wore. “You’re all bark and no bite. Why don’t you show me what you’re capable of? If you’re as awful as they make you out to be, maybe I’ll shiver enough to drop my panties for you.”

You didn’t miss the way Naoya’s hands gripped at your waist to pull you close, enticing you to continue with your insults because maybe Naoya liked this a lot more than he let on. Could it be his superiority complex didn’t always like submissive women, after all?

Well, it would make sense; everyone always liked a little challenge, didn’t they?

If that was what he wanted, then you’d be generous enough to grant it to him.

“Wouldn’t you like to get a chance to put me in my place, to teach me a lesson for defiling the oh-so-mighty Naoya Zenin?” you purposefully toned your voice down to a more breathy tone, your chest swelling with pride when Naoya sucked in a sharp inhale beside your ear.

God, he sounded beautiful — and you hadn’t even fucked him yet. Now, you were eager to hear what else those disgusting lips could be capable of other than degrading you.

Pulling away from him just to bat your lashes at him, heat pooled straight into your core when Naoya’s gaze had completely darkened, dark orbs pooled with lust and anger. Only he could make such an expression look so good.

“You don’t scare me, Zenin. You’re nothing but a small boy wearing big man pants.”

For a moment, your smile widened, believing that you’d won this time around. Naoya was still breathing hard at each brush of your stomach to his now hardening erection, but then he smirked and gently pushed you away from him. “I’m not fucking you here,” he stated calmly, not even bothering to keep his voice low. “You’re a lot dumber than I thought you’d be if you really think I’m whipping my cock out during this dreadful dinner.”

“This dreadful dinner you speak of is an opportunity for people like us to establish connections. I would’ve assumed you wanted nothing more to impress others but it seems I was wrong. If you hate this event so much, why bother coming here in the first place?”

“Just had a feeling I was going to meet a little minx,” he watched you seductively, his smirk adorned with his tongue peeking out to lick his lips — in turn wetting you in places he promised to make his by the end of the night. Curse him, you chanted in your head, curse him for being so attractive. It would’ve been easier if he was ugly. “And as always, I’m right.”

You tilted a brow, slightly impressed. “So you’ve done your background check on me. That doesn’t explain why you’re still here though. Surely a woman couldn’t be enough for a reason to make a man like you go all this way?”

“You’re right, a woman would never be a good enough reason, but I wanted to put you in your place,” his eyes flickered back up to you, now twinkling with danger and something else entirely. “Bad little girls need to be a taught to a lesson.”

“So what’re you waiting for? Go ahead and show me your ways, Zenin.”

“I will,” he nodded to himself, “I’m about to,” Naoya was nothing but confident as he strode your way until his arms was locked with yours, his breath tickling your collarbones that had unknowingly exposed itself at each heated touch. “You’re not that bad for a slut. You look like one, smell like one — I bet you also feel like one.”

A dry laugh left your lips as you fisted his shirt, mirroring his smirk to show that if a match was what he looked for, then a match he’d find indeed. Only this time, you would be worse.

“Why don’t you go ahead and find out?”

Naoya, despite being an absolutely poor excuse of a human being, was somewhat redeemable for being a man of his words. Find out he did, and he wasted no time into shoving you inside his McLaren, barely able to keep his hands off you the whole way up to his penthouse.

It was a blurry mess from there.

Moans spilled from your lips while he ripped your clothes off, not bothering to apologize that he’d just ruined one of your most prized possessions, his lust-clouded haze mumbling that he’d just buy you another one.

It was the last thing you expected to hear from him, but you couldn’t protest, not when he’d angrily snapped the buttons of his shirt away, a low growl mixing with your breathy whines as he loosened his tie.

Your eyes widened at the sight, legs rubbing together as you imagined what else he could do with that pretty tie of his.

Would he tie you to his bed, fuck you stupid and call you useless? Or perhaps, you could do it?

Naoya cut off your train of thought by pushing you back to his mattress, his hands tugging at his belt before he pulled his boxers down, his thick length slapping at his abdomen. Your mouth immediately watered at the sight. You were beyond wet from nothing but your sloppy make-out sessions, but would he fit?

Just the thought of him giving you that burning stretch made your legs spread beside his sides, the sardonic laughter ripping from Naoya’s lips absolutely disgusting.

“Fucking pathetic. You’re just like everyone else; submitting to me at the sight of my cock, but that’s not true, is it? Moment you saw me, I knew you were clenching around nothing,” he gripped at your jaw to force you to look at him. You glared up at him from his bruising hold, your cheeks squished under his rough hands. “But that’s okay; wanting me is not something you should be ashamed about. Although you should be thanking me I’m even letting you near me like this.”

“I’m so honoured. Come on, Naoya, let me feel you — let me make you feel good.”

Naoya, too lost in his ego, missed the sarcasm dripping in your voice. “So eager to be my cock sleeve, huh?” he grinned, tugging at your hair to push you deeper into his mattress. “Get on your knees. Now suck.”

He was too harsh in his pace, determined to exert his dominance over you. You could feel every ridge of his vein as he continued fucking into your mouth, his abs rippling above you. It felt like witnessing a Greek god come apart, and you took pleasure in being his ruin, prompting you to hollow your cheeks and bob your mouth up and down on his cock harder.

Naoya’s chuckles were broken and often mixed with curses of fuck, you feel so fucking good, his nails now scratching at your scalp.

Soon, Naoya stilled inside you, his hold around your head deadly to keep you in place. Tears flowed down your face as he kept thrusting inside, making sure to hit the back of your throat before his muscles tightened. Spurts of warm cum followed after that, but instead of swallowing it like you expected he’d command you to do, Naoya whipped out his cock and came all over your face, his seed shooting all over your cheeks and lips.

You took it all obediently, just enough to give him the false pretense of submissiveness that he was so willing to force from you.

While he was occupied pumping his still rock hard cock, eyes closed and massaging your scalp almost soothingly, Naoya failed to notice your hurried movements of standing from the bed, fingers looped around his tie.

A small wail resonated from him when you shoved him down onto the bed, knees locked at either sides of his waist before you tugged at the cloth wrapped around his neck. Naoya kicked his legs behind you as you tied his wrists to the bed hard enough that Naoya winced, the tie only forming tighter at each lame grapple of his.

You looked back at how he got more beautiful laid out in front of you like that, chest heaving up and down while he struggled against the restraints, face flushed with anger — no, this wasn’t anger anymore — he was furious.

“What are you doing?! Get this off me — how dare you!”

“How dare you,” you spat back, discarding your lace bra off to wipe his cum away from your face, gagging when the bitter cum left a tang on your lips. “I just got my skin appointment last week and you came on my face like that?”

Naoya kept fighting back before he realised it was a futile attempt, leaning back down onto the pillows, though that didn’t soften his heated eyes on yours. You cooed at how adorable he submitted to you, running a finger down the sides of his jaw. “Aw, don’t look so angry, baby. I’m just starting my fun,” you purred, “You should’ve known better than to mess with me, Naoya. I’m not as nice as the others. And I’ll show you just how awful I can be.”

Naoya’s breath hitched when you shimmied out of your underwear, a dark glint in your eyes as you stretched the elastic into a fake arrow until it snapped into his face.

“You fucking bitch,” he growled, turning his face away from your panties soaked with arousal. “Once I get out of here, I will ruin you.”

“Huh, yeah, sure,” you mumbled incoherently, too lost in the pleasure as you sunk down on his cock. You were right, he was fucking thick, stretching you out better than any of your toys could. Plus, he was warm and leaking with pre-cum that he slid in easily, erotic groans leaving both your mouths once he was finally seated inside you.

Naoya was growling at you to let go of him when you laughed, lifting your hips up slowly before sliding back down on him just as slow, almost as if you made love to his cock the same passionate way you did with a lover. “You do have a wonderful cock, though. I’ve never felt this good in my life,” you leaned down to lick a stripe down to his neck, allowing him to hear the needy pants you graced with him. “You feel so good, Naoya, oh. If you weren’t such an asshole, I might even fall in love with you.”

“Go faster. This is unfair!”

Naoya tried thrusting deep into you, evidently unsatisfied at this torturous pace you set, but you only gripped at his thigh in warning, your eyes no longer sweet as you glared at him.

“Nothing’s ever fair in this world, sweetheart,” you reminded him, shivering every now and then as you bounced on his cock, his length slipping past through your walls magically. “Like how such a gorgeous face and amazing dick is paired with the most disgusting personality ever. No, it’s not fair, indeed...”

You closed your eyes with your head thrown back, placing your hips flat on his pelvic bone instead, fingers rubbing at your clit while Naoya throbbed inside you, desperate for release.

The little whines you gave were nothing but mocking. You knew that Naoya suffered through this position, but did you care? Absolutely not. With Naoya’s cock stretching you full and his tip kissing your most sensitive spots, in addition to your fingers rubbing and tweaking at your clit, this was the most pleasure you’d ever gotten from sex.

You were stimulated everywhere, your other hand reached up to tug at your hardened nipples.

Your walls clenched around him, signalling him that you were close and you let out a broken moan, falling forward to gyrate your hips around his cock to push you over the edge. It wasn’t enough to get him off since you were mostly still fondling with your clit, the sounds of your moans like torture to his ears.

“No, don’t you dare cum, I swear if you—” Your orgasm washed over you comfortingly like a warm blanket. Instead of seeing white, it was like your vision cleared, the sight of the sweat that made Naoya’s hair stick to his forehead in clumps crystal clear. You prolonged your orgasm by thrusting your hips in a sickening rhythm of thrust, pause, thrust, stop — and by then Naoya was losing his mind.

Naoya lost control as he snapped his hips upwards inside you hard enough that you winced in pain, pushing off his dick until he’s left humping the empty air, his body drenched with perspiration. “No, no, no, fuck you! Get back here you useless slut!”

You lay beside him, giggling in post-orgasm bliss. Just to tease him, you rolled to his side to press a kiss to his cheek, laughing harder when your lips came in contact with his flushed skin.

“You’re so adorable like this,” you cupped his face tenderly, perfectly aware that Naoya had begun to growl, his wrists almost bruised from how hard he brawled against his tie. “If I didn’t hate you so much, I would’ve let you cum inside me,” you offered with a pat to his chest, moving off the bed with wobbly legs.

“Well, whatever, that was fun. I would say we both had the most sensual sex of our lives, but that would be a joke for you, don’t you think?” you snorted as you inserted your arms to his discarded suit jacket.

Naoya stayed still on the bed, his cock still painfully hard and slick with your cum. “Don’t look so angry, Naoya. You had it coming for you. Don’t worry, though, as a thanks for letting me cum that hard — though I mostly did all the work — I’ll keep this between us so you at least get to keep whatever’s left of your dignity,” you blew a kiss his way, “Bye, sweetie. At least now I know people weren’t exaggerating when they called you a good fuck.”

Not bothering to slip your heels back on, you looped your shoes into the curls of your fingers, about to button Naoya’s jacket as you made your way to his door.

You never got halfway across the room when strong arms suddenly lifted you off the ground, your vision transitioning from his door to the pads of his feet, your body slung across his shoulder. Naoya gripped at your ass in warning when you kicked your legs, leaving him with no choice but to hug your thighs with one arm.

The next thing you knew, he slammed the balcony doors open with one hand and slammed you on the pool table. His rough hands yanked his jacket away from your body, the chilly night of the air bringing a shiver down your spine as it hit your drenched core.

Naoya had pinned your arms flat on your back in a painful angle, making you cry out just as he kneed your legs open, his free hand that wasn’t pinning you down aligning his cock against your hole. You were a moaning mess underneath him, the pain only an intoxicating addition to the pleasure he was pounding into you. Naoya then leaned to whisper your ear, the sudden movement making his cock slide deeper into you, the pleasure overwhelming.

“Oh, Naoya, fuck—”

“I am not just a good fuck,” he corrected you, “I am Naoya Zenin — and you will do well being silent and submissive while I fuck you, do you understand?” You were too lost in the feeling of him rutting deep into you that he had you seeing white this time around. When you didn’t answer, Naoya slapped your ass, your yelps echoing from the dead night. “I asked you a question.”

“No,” you bit back, “I refuse to—” you were silenced when Naoya hit your sweet spot, laughing at your state that you were too fucked out to give him a proper answer.

Naoya’s pace was merciless as he fucked deeper into you, the hand on your ass moving up to grab at your waist to keep slamming you back to his cock. He watched as your lips sucked him in so tight that he didn’t know whether you were pushing him out or refusing to let go. Turning your head to the side to gasp for air, you opened your eyes, only to be met by the sight of men crowding on the building across yours to witness your undoing by Naoya’s hands.

“I’ve barely started and you’re already so wet for me,” he mocked in your ear. As if on cue, squelching sounds accompanied your desperate moans, hands grabbing at nothing in particular. “Shall I try upping my speed?”

“N-Naoya- there are people looking.”

“Let them see,” he seethed, using one arm to lift your other leg up to the table to gain him more access into your warm, wet cavern. The sudden stretch made your muscles ache until you lay there limp; jaw clenched at the pleasure Naoya drowned you with. “Let them know how much I’m making this pussy mine. Gosh, can you hear yourself? You sound like a dirty fucking slut,” another slap landed on your ass, hard enough to leave a mark there for tomorrow. “You claim to hate me, so then why are you dripping all over me, huh? Pathetic whore. You women are nothing but cum dumps to me.”

Naoya spread your butt cheeks open, laughing at the silly way you clenched around him every time he pulled out, your puffy lips sucking him back again until Naoya buried himself to the hilt. His dick did wonders in letting out the most erotic whines and whimpers you never thought you’d be capable of, leaving you a drooling and panting mess under him.

“You little fucker, don’t even think about cumming inside me, I will literally castrate you and feed your balls to yourself.”

“Such a dirty mouth. Though that’s expected of a nasty woman like you,” he sassed, his thrusts faltering while his hand clenched your flesh tighter. That was enough to send you over the edge when Naoya slammed his hips harder and more desperately this time around, his cock twitching against your walls. “You wish I would cum inside you. But I have a better plan in mind.”

All it took was one rough hand for him to pull you before him, pushing you down into your knees again as he came inside your mouth. You could feel your cum and his dripping onto his dark marble tiles, the white pool of liquid shining.

Naoya thrusted lazily into your mouth, a sickening grin on his face while he kept you down there. His glare deepened when you tried to pull away from him. “Swallow, you slut. Or I’m fucking your face until I break your jaw.”

Furiously, you swallowed around his cock, Naoya groaning at the feeling of your walls convulsing around him. The moment you gagged from when his tip poked the back of your throat, Naoya pushed you off him until you were left choking on the ground. You gasped for air, hands clasped around your neck, sure that you were going to have a sore jaw and a fucked throat tomorrow.

You kept glaring at Naoya, but this didn’t deter him from gripping your chin down, humming to himself upon seeing that his cum was now gone in your mouth. “Hmm, so you did swallow it like a good girl. I’m glad I’ve disciplined you well.”

“Go to hell.”

“I’m King there already, baby,” Before you could retort, his arms encircled your waist until you were heaved in his arms again. You pounded against his back because you were too done, you couldn’t do another round. Naoya sighed as he threw you in the bed as if you were a ragdoll, disappearing in the bathroom for a while before coming back with a wet towel, which he rudely flicked your way. “Clean yourself up and then leave. Take the back elevators. I don’t want the staff to see a whore leaving my place.”

“You’re the one who brought me here.”

“Only because I had a duty to put you in your place,” He stared at you with his smirk now permanent in his face, admiring the bruises he left on your body.

“We’re not over yet, Zenin. I’m going to break you one way or another.”

You rolled your eyes at him, walking to his closet to wear one of his shirts. Naoya was silent the whole time as he watched you button his shirt with trembling hands, his presence hot on your heels as he followed you out the large room.

As you were about to leave, you picked up the towel you used to clean your cum with and threw it right at his face.

Naoya dodged it easily, eyeing the towel with a scoff. “Still resilient, I see,” settling down on one of his lounge chairs like it was a throne, Naoya rested his cheek on his fist as he stared you down. “But fine — I accept your challenge. A true man never backs down from a challenge, after all.”

“Oh, honey, I’m more than just a challenge,” you sneered.

Naoya’s gaze left your eyes to stare at your perky nipples that poked through his shirt, feeling his cock swell all over again. But he was a man of control and dignity — he wouldn’t do anything more with you, not when it was clear you’ve had enough for tonight.

It didn’t bother him though, he knew he’d have more opportunities to put you in your place.

“We’ll see about that. I’ll be the one to decide your worth,” he declared oh so smugly, the mere sound of his voice pushing you to slam a fist to ruin that pretty face of his, though you held your ground, far too tired to move a muscle. Naoya saw this too, and he smiled to himself, head tilted to the side as he studied the mess he’d made of you. “Tomorrow, same time same place?”

There was no telling what pushed you to agree, but the words left your lips far too confidently for you to even wonder why.

“Be ready for me, Zenin.”

“I always am.”

All the way back to the back elevators that Naoya had directed you at, you pondered on how you’d be able to tell your parents you suddenly needed a ride home when they had no idea you left the dinner gala in the first place. But most of all, how were you supposed to tell them you’d acquainted yourself with the Zenin clan all over again?

2K notes · View notes

writer-akihiko · 3 years

Note

Hello, so this is my first request !!

Can I have an mc who is always clumsy with Arthur, Theo and Leonardo from IkemenVampire please :D

Thank you very much 🙏🏽

Clumsy!MC: Arthur, Theo + Leonardo

Thank you for the fluffy ask! It's nice to have fluffy asks before I bring out the typical yandere and angst for me... Warning: For Leonardo's scenario, there is name calling towards the Reader

Arthur Conan Doyle

Arthur isn't someone to tease you for being clumsy, but it impressed him how you managed to somehow be clumsy at your every waking moment

He finds himself following you around, finding the right moments to rescue you moments before you fall

Even if it weren't for your sake, he'd help you out when setting the table so you got less nervous about serving yourself

He'd make excuses for you when Sebastian would show the slightest annoyance to you. With Arthur, you felt as much more confidence in what you did, since he was

He had finally invited the woman of his affections out on an official date, marking the beginning of your relationship. Considering that it was an outdoor picnic, Vic couldn't help but scramble along, following you at your legs as if to warn you of any trip hazards.

With an outstretched hand, Arthur guided you to the hill of your date location, "I'd be lying if it weren't tempting for me to carry you around in my arms, love. Can't have you trip and ruin the outfit you put your time and effort in, after all~"

The picnic started out well, albeit Vic was quick to get restless, hopping away in pursuit of a butterfly. Without a word, you picked up your skirts, chasing after Vic. In your chase, you had gotten close enough to Vic but tripped over your own feet in an attempt to not step on the tiny dog. The weight of your body leaned to one side, as you felt the pull to the ground-

"Oof!" Your head hit a hard chest, immediately wincing at the impact.

"Love, I anticipated in the near future that we would be entangled, but surely not in public like this…" Arthur huffed out, sitting up straight with you in your arms. The enthusiastic Vic was quick to stop in his tracks, bounding over to you and Arthur.

With Arthur's arm wrapped around your waist, he inched closer to your face, pressing a warm kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering and ghosting your face for just a moment, before pulling away. "I couldn't help it… you're simply too kissable, love."

Theodorus Van Gogh

Initially, he'd shamelessly laugh at your clumsy moments, where it'd be mixing up flavourings or overpouring the tea

You'd pout at him, taunting him to do a better job. Of course he pulls it off flawlessly, so it turned into a banter of back and forth between you and Theo

He'd always say something among the line of tripping over your paws, but somehow he'd always look out for you before disaster ever struck

Theo doesn't mind that you were constantly clumsy. It was no surprise that he'd stay next to you… It was as if he was always watching over your shoulder…

Theo was eager to see how much you improved with your tea serving skills. Considering that Comte had asked you for a favour, you insisted on Theo being your practice partner. King was also happy to help, with him acting as your assistance to open the door when you'd serve the dishes.

You were careful with your steps, making sure to serve tea in proper fashion, pouring tea for Theo. "How many sugar cubes, Sir?"

He hummed, taking attention to the effort you put in. Everything went great so far, which, once he thought about it was a little suspicious… Nonetheless, he was pleased with how far you'd come. It made him a little regretful that he treated you in such a way, but he was already planning a date in his head as a reward for his sweet Hondje…

"Seven, please."

You couldn't help but break your serious demeanour. For as much as Theo would tease you about your clumsiness, it was the rare occasions that you would get to tease him back about his sweet tooth.

As you were about to reach for the sugar cubes, King was oh so kind to sniff up your heels, thinking you were about to give him a treat. The sudden feeling of a cold nose made you jump. You felt your butt land on someone, and that someone was Theo, who caught you just in time.

"My silly Hondje, were you actually clumsy or were you eager to be on my lap?"

You squirmed in Theo's lap, but to your surprise, he wouldn't let go of your waist. His grin drew you in, as you listened to what he had to say. "I don't see why you have to leave yet. Your reward was to be a date in the town, but my clumsy Hondje took the liberty of rewarding herself already~" And that was when you felt a soft peck on your forehead…

Leonardo Da Vinci

He was not one to comment on your clumsy behaviour, after all, it'd be hypocritical of him to do so considering he was a slob

At first, he didn't consider you to be clumsy since you were tripping and toppling over objects in his room, which he assumed was his fault anyway

It was then he noticed Sebastian's ever much frustrations with you during breakfast hour, and he realised Sebastian paired you both up for a reason…

He never really minded your behaviour afterwards, but that doesn't mean he ignored you. In fact, he was more attentive to you, keeping an eye on you just in case… that somehow the attentiveness turned into affection

Leo took the liberty to change your outing into a date instead, as you ran your errands. This time however, the rush from one shop to another didn't seem so obvious, as if the world slowed down around you and Leonardo. With Leonardo's amiable personality, it was a breeze to visit the crevices of the town, even places you had never heard of before.

It was then the moment you realised it was time to head to the mens' wear. Leonardo was about to lead you in as he always did, with you strung on his arm, but he noticed your hesitance. "What is it cara mia?"

"I… The last time I came to send Comte's coat, I spilled someone's shoe shine on the floor. Another gentleman scolded me, but I helped the shopkeeper clean up!" You said, explaining that the shopkeeper didn't mind the accident since you were Comte's assistant.

"Cara mia… the man who got upset at you… he's no gentleman."

Despite your pleas not to, Leonardo insisted on protecting you. He was quick to notice the noble who probably scolded you, judging by the sour face as he gave you. The shopkeeper was quick to hand you over the coat you needed, but of course, nothing could be said about the way the noble was quick to criticise you.

"So Miss Stupid brought a bodyguard this t-"

"Stai zitto, bastardo…" Leonardo huffed, blowing on his fist after delivering a well-deserved punch. He quickly apologised for the scene, escorting you out of the shop.

Considering the amount of things you had to get, it was safer to go back by carriage. As Leonardo closed the door behind you, he brushed your hair aside, peppering a few kisses on your cheek to cheer you up. "Now, don't look so sad, cara mia. No one gets to insult you like that… You are the smartest woman I know, even if you are a little clumsy~"

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp theo #ikevamp theodorus van gogh #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp scenarios #ikevamp arthur x reader #ikevamp theo x reader #ikevamp leo x reader #ikevamp arthur conan doyle #ikevamp leonardo da vinci

250 notes · View notes

extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

rock and roll and leather skirts.

pairing: rockstar!sebastian stan x writer!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (18+), slight breeding and choking kink

a/n: i just really love returning to this pairing. enjoy xx

It was torture.

Sebastian was sure that the way his wife looked in the crowd was nothing but torture designed to ensure he had a hard on for the whole of the show. He just couldn’t help it. How could he when she was dancing in the front row in nothing but the skinniest pair of heels, a thin strap black top and the tightest leather skirt ever designed by man. Adding to all of that, he hadn’t seen her in the past three months, stuck on an European tour his wife couldn’t accompany him on, thus he felt like he was three seconds away from pulling her on stage and having his way with her. He just couldn’t help it, his eyes couldn’t leave her. She was almost like his very own rock muse, a nymph tempting him with flowing locks as she danced to his music and soft skin illuminated by the bright halcyon light. He could hear unwritten music whenever he looked at her and god if he couldn’t help to hear the music that would come out of her scarlet tinted lips when he got his hands on her.

The set seemed to last forever and while he adored his job and adored to play a sold out stadium, he loved to watch his wife squirm under him. As the last chord played, he was out the stadium, finding the first water bottle to throw over himself before the next morning headliner became his and his raging hard on, which he guessed wouldn’t be the first time that happened. Pushing his hair away from his face, he saw her strut backstage, the red backstage pass resting against her breasts. God damn it, that woman would be the reason he’d someday get caught and arrested for public indecency. She smiled with a grace that was so typically hers, wrapping her arms around him before leaning over to kiss him.

How in the heck had he even scored her? He still looked like a crazy man, with messy hair and tattoos he regretted scattered all over him and she, god, she was fantastic. He could never write enough love songs about it and he couldn’t even write enough songs at how fucking good that skirt looked on her. He interrupted the kiss himself to look at her, at how fucking delectable she was even after all these yers. Of course, she now hated him less than when she first met him.

- Baby, that fucking skirt ... - his hand sneaked up to her ass, cupping it shamelessly as if there wasn’t staff or any of his bandmates around.

- I missed you too. - she teased, her hands warm against his shirtless shoulders. His fingers traced her arm, lips ghosting over her shoulder and up her neck, just below her ear. - Seb, the boys ...

- Shouldn’t have worn that skirt then, baby bunny. - he nibbled the soft skin under her ear, hard enough to leave a mark so the dad who always sized her up at school drop offs would know he was back in town. - Fuck, you come here after I haven’t seen you for months dressed like every rocker’s wet dream.

- I wanted to look good for you. - she flushed under his gaze.

Fuck, she couldn’t look any sweeter with her little hot cheeks and watery eyes as if they hadn’t been married for 5 years and trying and testing both his and her fantasies; however, this skirt seemed to do it for him. He could feel his trousers tighten just thinking about it and those heels making her legs so long did not help either. His hand cupped her thigh, pushing it to hook against his own leg as he kissed her neck, sensing the nice soft flower scent from her perfume. God, he fucking missed her.

- You’re gonna let me fuck you, baby? - he whispered against her ear, breathy laugh escaping as he heard that soft little moan she wanted to hide from him finally materialise. - Hm? You want me to fuck you silly backstage? You want it, bunny baby?

- Seb ... - she whined her eyes gazing the set around her, worried anyone was watching but everyone mostly ignored it. It was a rock concert backstage, sex was as ordinary as clouds in the sky. - Seb, the people ...

- Aw bunny baby ... - he pinched her chin, pulling it up so she was looking at his eyes, his blue eyes which were now midnight blue clouded by lust. - Don’t worry, don’t want any fucking roadie getting any ideas.

She didn’t even know what to say, instead nodding as she herself started to get uncomfortable with not being flushed to him. He hoisted her up, his hands gripping her waist as he made his way into the first room he could find. It didn’t matter where they were, if he couldn’t be inside her, he felt like he was going to explode. He pinned her against the door, his hands travelling and roaming her body while he kissed her neck and pulse, lightly bitting onto her skin as if he wanted to claim her. He wanted to claim her.

- Looking all sinful on the front row. - he growled recalling that view from the stage. - Getting all those stupid boys with their girlfriends all fired up. Raising their hopes up ...

- I’m not. - she moaned as he bite harshly on her neck.

- You’re mine. - his voice was strained, partly from singing, partly from pure jealousy. He normally kept it under wraps yet she couldn’t help but feel attracted to it whenever he acted possessive about her. His lips crashed against hers, hands pushing her skirt off and onto the floor, causing a bit of tear to the fabric. Not that any of them minded. - I’ll fucking prove to you just how much you’re mine.

- Please. - she begged, parting her legs for her generous lover. However, he was not in the mood for gentleness. As her hands travelled up his chest, feeling every ripple of his skin, he caged and trapped her hands above her head, mockingly smiling as she looked at him confused.

- Aren’t you pretty? - he mocked her, tongue licking his lips as he observed her chest raise up and down. - So fucking pretty, baby. Wanna know what it felt like seeing you and not being able to do anything?

His distance from her didn’t last long enough, he was back on her like a wolf. He wanted to bask on her scent, lips climbing up from her neck to her lips in slow, desperate motions. She whined wantonly, wanting to be freed from his grip to touch him, try to undress him, anything, but he didn’t allow her. No, Sebastian liked control and he was going to remain holding power over it. Pulling her underwear to the middle of her legs, he started to torture her sex, his fingers slowly thrusting in and out of her heat. Her chest rose up and down in slower motions, head trashing from side to side as she tried to deal with how his feeling felt dragging against her walls. God, he could make that vision the cover of his next album. Her breathe was rapid and uncontrolled, hands and fingers tensing as she felt her abdomen tighten up only to loosen up as he took his fingers off her heat. She looked at him betrayed and upset but he only smiled, bringing his fingers to his lips, licking them in sin.

- Felt like that. - he almost mocked her state, proud he had gotten his satisfaction but that wasn’t enough. Looking at her only fired her up even more. He let go of her hands, both of his hands cupping her face to kiss her fervently and harshly as if she was going to disappear. Her nails dragged up his back, leaving marks which were sure to make her proud until they reached his leather trousers. She quickly made way of unbuttoning them, trying to push it down but her slowness saw him help her out.

He guided the head of his cock towards her folds before he quickly sheathed himself inside her heat. He growled, eyes rolling as he seemed to find himself in his personal eden the more he buried himself in her. Her hands pulled at him, holding him closed as he reached a hilt. His lips quickly founds hers as he started to thrust in and out of her slowly and filed with wanton. Her moans were musical and breathy, her walls contracted around him almost in sync and he swore he could die happy like this.

- Fuck, baby. Had forgotten how good you fucking felt around me. - he spoke through wet kisses, his hands slowly guiding her hip movements. - Aren’t you a fucking minx? My own little sex muse.

- Seb, please. - her nails buried onto the skin of his back, trying to quicken her movements. He wanted to go fast, rough, ignore her pleasure and merely take his but how could he when she looked so delectable, so sweet begging for him. - Please.

- Oh, baby ... - he growled out, hand holding her neck against the door as he snapped his hips forward. She broke on in a long moan as his cock dragged in and out of her wall, mixing with the lewd sounds of his skin hitting hers. Her breathe struggled to recover, shaky from the sheer pleasure of him snapping his hips in and out of her without a care and from his grip on her neck. Her hands gripped at his body as he continued his assault on her cunt, lips sometimes stealing dirty, messy kisses from her, drinking from her lips. - Are you gonna let me cum inside of you, bunny baby? Have you dripping with my cum as you step outside? Huh? You gonna let me?

- Please. - she moaned pathetically, no longer caring how she’d look once she stepped outside. He smiled through the kiss, hand leaving her neck to toy with her clit, the other helping him pull himself in and out of her in almost animal movements. He wanted it, he wanted her to fall apart, he wanted the world to know she was his. His moves grew uncontrollable and out of pace until his hips jerked still, a dirty, raspy moan leaving the rocker’s mouth as ropes and ropes of white cum painted her walls, some of it slightly trickling down her leg.

She held herself against him, trying to hold her legs up despite how trembly they felt. He panted through a smile, looking down to bask in another one of her kisses, holding her against him before she could fall. The two collapsed onto a nearby couch, her half naked body flushed against his as both tried to regain some sense of regular breathing.

- Three months is too long, baby bun.

- I know. - she rested her chin on his chest, looking up at him with a mischievous little smile.

- Sex’s incredible though. - he stole a playful kiss from her. - I might just put your moans in a song one day.

- Don’t you dare. - she herself peppered kisses onto his lips, jokingly pointed her finger at him.

- Fucking love you, baby. Fucking love you.

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #rockstar! sebastian stan

260 notes · View notes

kanonsarchivedblog · 3 years

Text

Might Be Onto Somethin' (Kiss Me More)

Word Count: 2142 Rating: E Character(s): Mitsuri Kanroji Ships: None; Mentions of Rengoku Kyōjurō, Iguro Obanai, Sanemi Shinazugawa Genre: Smut Author's Notes: I... Have no excuse other than the fact that Mitsuri is cute and she deserves so much love. And many partners. Give her all of the partners please. She has so much love to give- This can also be read over on my ao3! ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ The perks of having your own portion of the compound meant the peace and quiet that came with it. It was nice to be able to just relax, to not have to worry about being walked in on. A nice soak in the hot spring had been well earned! A trim to the ends of her hair to get rid of any split ends and to keep the long layers still looking good, and then a bit of skin care! Mitsuri was even able to paint her nails! And her toe nails!

Evening was falling, the sounds of laughter coming from her siblings filling the air as she closed the shoji. Dinner was already done; they would all be retiring to their own spaces soon enough. Summer was in full swing, the heat of the day melting away, though that didn’t mean it still wasn’t warm- too warm to wear proper clothes. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d stripped out of her dinner kimono so quickly; she took a moment to simply stand in the nude, enjoying the slight cool breeze that drifted through the room from an open window.

Open window. Naked. Oh, no!

A squeak escaped her as she grabbed hold of a light cotton yukata, slipping it on to cover herself, cheeks growing rosy in embarrassment. What if someone had come by? And seen her? That would have been so awkward! What if it had been Tomioka-san? OR Shinobu-san? Oh, she wouldn’t have been able to look them in the eye! Or even Uzui-san!

… Or Rengoku-kun.

Or… Or Iguro-san…

Swallowing roughly, Kanroji turned on her heel and marched herself to her bedroom, chastising herself for even considering those thoughts. That- that wasn’t ladylike! Was it? No- yes? A groan slipped free as she flopped onto her futon, face pressed into the blankets. It wasn’t… Wrong to feel lust. She knew this. It also wasn’t wrong to feel love! And it… Wasn’t a bad thing to be attracted to people- to people she knew well! There wasn’t anything bad with that at all!

Kyōjurō had been her friend for years- they’d known each other long before they became Hashira. He’d been her teacher, even! And she’d watched as he grew- as they both grew! Cheeks tinting with an emotion she couldn’t quite place, she rolled over onto her back, staring up at her ceiling. Her window was open in here, too; from there, she could see down the hill to where the Rengoku compound sat.

Her gaze drifted to the window, watching as clouds began to drift across the night sky, the stars peeking out from behind clouds occasionally. It wasn’t a bad thing to… Want. Everyone wanted something, someone- it was natural. Her thighs clenched, an unconscious movement that drew a soft gasp out. Her eyes slid shut, the battle beginning to wane in her mind. This was okay. It was! Especially with… How good it would feel, oh- oh, it would feel good.

“This is okay,” she decided, speaking softly to the empty bedroom. Pushing herself up, she glanced around- as if making sure she was truly alone. Which was silly- of course she was alone! She would have heard if someone came in. A giddy smile curled her lips as she settled back down against her pillows, nimble fingers quickly undoing the tie that held the yukata together, allowing for the fabric to shift.

Her eyes slid shut as she drew in a slow, nervous breath. It wasn’t as if she never touched herself- she did, more often than she really wanted to admit. The tint in her cheeks darkened as she squeezed her thighs together again, creating a gentle sort of pressure that had a sigh slipping free. A hand raised- not her own, not in her mind, no, this hand was much larger than her own, somehow still so soft despite wielding a wicked blade- and came to peel away the yukata, baring her naked form to the room. She was proud of her physique- she was soft, her tummy softer than her fellow Hashira, but beneath that layer of softness was muscle she’d always had, would always have. She liked it- liked having soft hips, a soft tummy, soft thighs.

Iguro-san liked her thighs. He’d complimented her on them a few days ago- when they’d all been granted time off to have their blades sharpened. It had been an idle comment in a conversation with Shinobu-san, who had brought up the idea of a lighter fabric for their summer uniforms. They’d all agreed- it would be nice not to smother in the heavy, dark fabric. Tengen had mentioned how it was smart to have a uniform like her own- a skirt, which did mean she was able to cool off faster than her companions.

The conversation had drifted, which let Obanai murmur close to her ear that he enjoyed her uniform quite a bit- after all, it allowed him to see her beautiful thighs. It had made her blush, had made her squeeze her thighs together and hide a smile.

“Iguro-san,” she sighed out, hand drifting lower, nails ghosting against the skin of a thigh before digging in in a way that gave both pain and pleasure- something she was certain he would enjoy. Something he would do. “Please…”

He wasn’t the only one who looked- she would never admit it aloud, but she caught Kyōjurō looking at her chest a few times, his gaze soft, lids heavy before he caught himself and looked away, cheeks rosy. She thought it was cute! She was more than aware of her bust- it caused her problems at times, especially if she couldn’t bind the proper way before a mission. But oh…

A hand cupped her left breast, fingers squeezing the soft flesh. She pictured the hand to be larger, much larger and warmer, massaging and squeezing, pinching at her nipples just so, drawing out a soft squeal because oh, that’s sensitive! “Kyo-” she whined, head turning to the side, thighs parting as the hand shifted to the other, giving it the same treatment. “Sensitive,” she whispered, though she didn’t hear her own voice- the rasp of another, of a tongue drifting across her nipple, of silver hair and wild eyes.

The hand on her thigh slipped upward, dragging sharp nails along the inside of her thigh. It sent a shock through her system, her legs jolting with the pleasure it drew forth. “Iguro-san!” She gasped, and for a moment, she swore she heard a chuckle- his chuckle, but it only made her hand settle over herself, adrenaline and lust mingling in her veins. Her toes curled as she slipped her middle finger between her folds, surprised to find herself already wet. Then again-

She had been excited for days now, hadn’t had time to handle this.

Oh, but the finger pressing against a bundle of nerves drew her from her thoughts quickly, a moan drifting into the open air of the bedroom at the relief that brief touch gave. Her eyes opened, blinking in the darkness of her bedroom, the images dispelling for a moment.

Toy. She needed something. She needed to be filled- to feel full. It wasn’t as if she could just… Go get the real thing! No, instead she rolled over, grabbing an ornate box that looked as if it should hold jewelry, and tugged it closer. It was inconspicuous; no one would ever think of what it would hold. The toy itself was a good replica of the real thing, thicker near the base, thinner towards the top with a flared head. The material used was soft so as to not cause discomfort- perfect for her, considering how sensitive she could be sometimes. And tonight was certainly one of those times.

Rolling back onto her bed, she took hold of another pillow and slid it down, settling it beneath her rear. Eyes closing once more, images flooded back to the forefront of her mind. The toy pressed to her lips, and if she thought hard enough, she could imagine it having heat along with the weight it held. Her lips parted, the toy slipping in, her tongue curling around the head before she forced her jaw to relax. She’d never admit it out loud, but she’d trained herself with this toy, her throat relaxing. Fingers of another hand drifted low, gathering the slickness that had formed between her lower lips before slipping inside, drawing out a whine around the toy. Her brows furrowed as she tried to time the thrusts with the toy in her mouth, brushing against that one spot every now and then.

In her mind, it wasn’t her fingers in her, or a toy in her mouth- no, the fingers belonged to a man with golden and ruby hair who pressed kisses to her thighs as he opened her up and tore her apart, as he coaxed her closer and closer to the edge with his delicate touches. In her mouth sat the cock of the Snake Pillar, thrusting slowly, deeply, fucking her face.

Too close, too close- she pulled her fingers free and slipped the toy from her mouth with a whine, head falling back. Not yet, she didn’t want to stop yet. Licking her lips, she readjusted, bringing the toy down to settle between her lips, rocking slowly, the head nudging against her clit with each rock until she couldn’t handle it, slipping the toy inside slowly, a hiss slipping free at the stretch. It wasn’t painful, not in the least- no, it felt good, wonderfully so. She whined, nose scrunching up as it bottomed out. She took a moment to adjust, shifting her hips to get a more comfortable angle.

A hand settled at her breasts once more, groping, teasing as she began to move her hand. “Oh,” she whispered, brows furrowing, “yes- yes, like that! I like that, please, yes,” she began to babble as the toy sped up- no, not a toy. Obanai was between her thighs, Kyōjurō behind her, holding her, his hands on her chest as Obanai used her. “Harder, harder, harder- please, I’ve been a good girl!” She whined, lost to her fantasy. “Obanai- Obanai, please.”

'Only good girls get to cum. Are you sure you've been good?' The phantom image asked, voice gruff- Oh. Oh, that would be Sanemi.

“I have!” She squealed, hips rising as the toy began to hit that one spot dead center. “I have, I’ve been good! ‘Nemi, ‘Nemi!” She whined, body moving with the force she used. “Kyo- Oba- oh, there, there, there, don’t stop!”

'We won't stop,' Kyo’s voice whispered in her ear as his fingers played with her nipple, twisting, pinching, massaging. 'Not until you're sobbing and making a mess for us.'

“Fuck me!” She pleaded, something so vulgar that, had she not been in such a worked up state, would have embarrassed her. “Please! I’m a good girl! I’m your good girl! Fuck me, please, God- Obanai, you feel so good! So good in me, so good, yes, yes, 𝘺𝘦𝘴!”

'Gonna be a good girl and cum for me?' Obanai asked, panting. 'Cum on my cock like a good girl, Mitsuri?'

“Yes, yes- Obanai, Ob-” She clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle her scream as she tumbled over the edge, legs twitching, chest heaving as she kept fucking herself. “Harder, harder, please-” she begged, working herself higher and higher up before her hand stopped, body stilling. Tears spilled free, trailing down her cheeks as she removed her hand from her mouth, panting harshly. Wet- very… Wet? Blinking to clear her vision, Mitsuri shifted her hips.

Oh.

Oh!

“Oh, no- that’s- that’s new, oh dear, oh no,” she whispered, pulling the toy free so that she could sit up and gawk at the wet… Puddle. That was a puddle. “OH-” She squeaked, cheeks red as strawberries as she realized what she’d done. She couldn’t stand to clean off her bed- not yet, anyway. She’d clean the blankets and sheets tomorrow, but that poor pillow… “At least you were already ready to be tossed,” she murmured, a giggle bubbling up.

She settled back down on a clean portion of her bed, body relaxing. Sanemi? Kyo? And Obanai? Oh, my! She covered her face with her hands and let out a soft squeal. How would she look them in the eye tomorrow! She shifted, staring at the window- were her eyes playing tricks on her? Brows furrowing, she rose to her feet and stepped closer, poking her head out. No one was there.

Huh.

She could have sworn she’d seen golden and ruby hair. Strange.

Perhaps it was wishful thinking. Shrugging, she turned back to the mess she now had to clean up. Or…

“Or I could… Have some more fun?”

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #mitsuri kanroji #rengoku kyoujurou #sanemi shinaguzawa #iguro obanai #demon slayer smut #kny imagines #m's scribbles #not safe m&ms

54 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

I’ve been listening to ‘tis the damn season far too many times to be healthy and idk about the end of the year, it’s always so depressive? So I’m thinking... how would Marcus Moreno comfort a girl in this situation? But they’re not officially together yet 😶💕

Perhaps some heartbreak? Perhaps some soft Marcus fluff? Both? Both!

Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader ; warnings: slight language

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

The rain was falling down in absolute buckets and it was nearing one in the morning, and it was dark and freezing and... you shouldn't have been there, you shouldn’t have come, you shouldn’t have done a lot of things, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You’d hastily thrown your things in the old, worn suitcase and gotten the soonest flight home. Home - your real home, the one you enjoyed being in, the one where you felt you alive and loved. Your parents’ home wasn’t home - not anymore anyway. It hadn’t been for a long time, and you should have realized that. Going back was a mistake; you should have stayed back and home and spent the holidays with Marcus and Missy, just how he had asked - insisted even. But no; you’d been stubborn and insisted that you hadn’t wanted to intrude on his celebration with his daughter, his family. You are family, Marcus promised sincerely, those chocolate brown eyes crinkling in the corners and that singular dimple proudly on display.

You panicked; your heart constricted and clenching as you listened to his words. And gods, you’d wanted to stay, wanted to say yes. But you couldn’t - couldn’t do it to your heart. You’d loved him so much it hurt, physically ached, sometimes, but you couldn’t tell him. What if he didn’t feel the same, what if he saw you as just a friend, a neighbor, something? You weren’t about to set yourself up for failure and a broken heart.

And yet...here you were, pounding on his door in the middle of the night, tears running down your cheeks as they mixed in with the fat, cold drops of rain. Heartbroken.

Joke was on you; you’d ended up in pain either way.

Tis the damn season, you’d scoff at yourself.

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself as you lowered your hand from the door. You couldn’t be doing - showing up at his door in the middle of the night and waking him up. It wasn’t fair to him; he was such a good man, and he didn’t deserve to be forced to deal with you in this state and to pick up the pieces. It would be cruel; he was much more than just a shoulder to cry and he didn’t need to do this for you. No, you’d go home and cry it out and pick yourself up by the bootstraps just like you’d done before, “fuck.”

You wiped at your wet eyes with your even wetter sleeve, bitterly laughing at your idiotic move and turning to walk back home. Maybe the walk in the cold rain would work to bring some sort of clarity to your mind or...something. It was almost cathartic in a way; to be forced to come to terms with the choices of your actions, and inactions, as you walked home in the silence of the wee morning hours.

Just as you got to the end of the driveway, you heard the door open slowly, followed by the most reverent whisper of your name that you’d ever heard. You turned on your heel, trying to keep your lip from trembling as you looked up at Marcus. He pulled the door fully open before running over to you without a moment of hesitation, or a care in the world as he easily became soaked as well.

“I'm sorry!" you almost yelled over the rain as he reached for your hand in order to pull you into the sanctuary of the warm house, "I didn't mean to wake you up. I-I-I should go."

"You didn't," he insisted, gently pulling you along with him, "I was in my office - I almost didn't hear you over the rain."

"Missy-"

"She's at her friend's house for the weekend," he explained as you relaxed and acquiesced to his touch and let him lead you inside, "but you are going to come in and warm up and tell me what's going on."

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Better?” Marcus’ voice was soft as you padded back into the kitchen, now in a fresh new set of clothes - his clothes. He’d been insistent that you take a hot shower to warm up and gave you a clean set of pajamas. You hadn’t been expecting for them to be the softest things you’d ever worn, or for his smell to cling onto them as much. It was enough to make you weak in the knees as you had slipped them on, smelling of his soap, shampoo, and now sporting his clothes. His eyes flicked up when he saw you come in, his lips parting slightly as his tongue darted out to wet them; he hadn’t expected to quite feel that when he took in the sight of you in his clothes...but damn.

“Yes,” you nodded softly as you walked over to the him, pulling out one of the stools at the island and slipping onto it. Marcus had busied himself with making hot chocolate - complete with mini marshmallows, just like you loved, “thank you for everything, Marcus.”

“Don’t mention it,” he tried to play it off as cool, but relished in the small praise as he set the large mug in front of you, before grabbing his own and making his way around to you. You tried to suppress the wild beating of your heart as he took the spot next to you, his leg brushing against yours and causing a flurry of sparks to run down your spine.

The two of you sat in contemplative silence for a few moments, nothing but the sounds of your spoons in the mugs and the sipping of cocoa sounding in the quiet space. There was an ease, an instant sense of comfort and warmth that inhibited everything when Marcus was around. It was easy to know that this was home; nothing else mattered.

Before you could get too deeply lost in thought, Marcus gently nudged his leg against yours, capturing your attention. You turned to face, watching as he pulled off his glasses and tossed them onto the counter, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. He looked tired, and a sense of annoyance at yourself settled into your bones. You shouldn’t have disturbed what was likely the only bit of peace he had experienced in a while. Marcus must have been a mind reader or something because he slowly shook his head and gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“It’s not you, hon-” he stopped himself but his would be pet name was not lost on either of you. It wasn’t usual for him to call you something sweet; honey, sweetheart, love. You just never thought much about it, chalking it up to him being a nice man who liked to give his people pet names. But this was different - there was something much more left to be said, “will you tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s silly,” you said softly, not sure if you wanted to humiliate yourself in front of him right now. Not sure if you wanted to delve into what both of you could feel bubbling up to the surface. But you couldn’t deny it any longer, both of you had been dancing around the issue, skirting it at best, for so long. Maybe this was the push in the right direction that you both needed, maybe it was time to stop running just because you were scared, “I...ugh, I shouldn’t have gone home to my parents.”

Marcus paused for a moment, nodding slowly in a knowing manner. The two of you had been friends - foolish oblivious friends - for years, and there were no secrets at this point, he knew you inside out and you knew him just as intimately, “you saw him.”

“Yeah,” you blew a long exhale before laughing at yourself, “I should have listened to you - it was stupid to go. It’s not home, it hasn’t been for a long time. This is home - you’re home.”

“What did he say?” Marcus’ hand closed tightly into a fist as he tried not to make his fuming too obvious, “did he-”

“No,” before you could stop yourself, you’d put your hand on his, slowly unclenching it from its closed position, inviting him to relax, “he just...nothing happened. He...he said I’d changed. That it was stupid for me to show up.”

“Why?” his breath hitched in throat as the word caught and he tried not to panic too much. Internally it was like the Kill Bill sirens were going off and his whole body was beating like his wild heart.

“He said even though it was just a mindless fuck, he couldn’t do it,” you admitted with a shaky breath, “that I didn’t belong there - back at my parents, back in that stupid town - anymore. That I should go back to my real home with the man I loved.”

“And what did you tell him?” Marcus was positive there were only a few times in his life when he’d been this nervous before - the day he’d gotten married, the day he found out he was going to be a father, the first time he’d held Missy in arms and now...this.

“I...I told him that it wasn’t possible,” you admitted softly, as Marcus’ eyes were glued onto yours, “because there was no way that the man I love would love me back. Because he is everything, and I am a mere...I’m just me. But I left and packed and got on the first flight back here - home.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Think what?”

“That the man that you love doesn’t love you?” your throat felt tight as you allowed yourself to look up and met his eyes. His expression was soft - gentle - and the ghost of a smile was tugging on the corners of his mouth.

“Because you could never love me, Marcus,” you finally said it out loud, answering the silent question that had been lingering between the two of you for so long.

“And why is that?”

“Look at you,” you blinked back a few tears, “you’re amazing and wonderful and you’re perfect and I am such a mess. I couldn’t even...I show up on your doorstep, a crying pathetic mess, and here you are, amazing as always and picking up all the pieces. I - fuck - I would never flatter myself into thinking you loved me.”

“I do,” he said softly, turning to face you properly and reaching for your face to gently cradle it in his large hands. His gaze was intense as he studied you, and your stomach dropped. Did he...was he… he loved you? Marcus wiped away the single tear that had rolled down your cheek, “yeah, I do love you, honey. I have for a long time now - we both know it. I think we just got so scared, so caught up in ourselves that we never said it.”

“Oh,” you looked at him with the sweetest expression as he just beamed at you, “I...I love you, Marcus. I have wanted to say that to you forever, but I was so nervous...I just never…”

Before you could continue to ramble, Marcus leaned over and kissed you; it was soft, and gentle, sweet - but with a hint of longing as you practically melted into his touch. Kissing him was, to put it simply, utterly perfect. There was no fumbling awkwardness and no learning curve, it just was.

When you pulled back for a breath of air, he held you close, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours, his nose nuzzled against yours.

“I…” you sighed softly, contentedly, as you chased his lips with your own for a few more kisses, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he promised firmly, “you are home - you are family. Please don’t ever doubt that again.”

“How could I?” you whispered, “when you make me feel like this? I am never happier than when I’m with you, with Missy - never.”

“Neither are we,” he promised, “you are everything, just like you think I am. I will never let you forget that.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog @sheridans-dynamos @queenbbarnes @persephonesnebula @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @suckerfor-fanfics @bestintheparsec @javihoney @aeryntheofficial @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial @asgardianvamp21 @keithseabrook27 @karmezii @dearspacepirates @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @kochamcie @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #wcbh #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #sighhhh #i love him

399 notes · View notes

downywrites · 3 years

Text

“It’s payback time.”

Hello there, folks. It is I, a bird. With a keyboard. Bird says hi. Enjoy fic. (Please note-there is swearing.)

The sound of hooves clopping loudly on the cold castle floor echoed as Schlatt weaved through the long corridors. His heart pumped loudly in his ears as he tried to gain speed as much as he physically could without slipping on the smooth stone. He heard the sound of feathers rustling behind him, making him speed up his gait more in a feeble attempt to escape from his pursuer. “Leave me alone, you piece of shit! We’re adults, you bird-brained idiot!”

The pursuer in question chuckled as he pursued, his feet hitting the floor much more gently than the cloven-hooved man. “Adults still have fun too, you know~ Come here, Schlatt!” He called, signature wings tucked close to his body to increase his running speed. Schlatt’s eyes widened and he screeched to a halt right before hit a wall. He searched frantically for an exit, cursing quietly under his breath. “Out of all the areas in this godforsaken castle, I had to find the one area with no exits? What the fuck is this castle made for, just to confuse people?”

He turned to see King Philza, ruler of the Arctic Kingdoms, standing at the only hallway exit, wings spread menacingly. “Heya, Schlatt. How ya doing, mate?” He ignored the winged hybrid, trying to run past him in a desperate bid to escape. Philza used his wings to block his path, pushing him down smoothly. “Gotcha.” He pinned his arms with one hand. He immediately started tickling Schlatt’s sides, poking and pinching firmly. Schlatt burst into instantaneous laughter, curling in on himself and bleating angrily at him. “Yohohohou fuhuhuhucking bihihihitch of a bihihihird!”

He struggled and bucked, trying to escape him. Philza ignored his swears and curses, tickling at his tummy and sides with his wing tips. “Tickle, tickle, little ram boy. So cute!” “Ihihihi’m nohohot cuHUHUTE!” He was so focused on his tickling techniques, so intent on his goals, that he had loosened his grip ever so slightly on his hands. Schlatt grinned. He pulled at his hands in one quick jerk, slipping out of his grip and grabbing where blindly at where his wings protrude. As he clutched and squeezed, soft and hard muscles squishing gently under his fingers, Philza stopped tickling him with a loud squawk. He tried reaching for his hands, then at his arms, but it was already too late to stop him. He rolled them over, still massaging Philza’s wings roughly. “This is what you get for being such an unruly prick of a ruler!” He risked letting go of his wings to scratch quickly at his melt spot, in the hopes of weakening the hardcore warrior. It had the desired effect- Philza loosened up a bit, his laughter going up an octave in turn. “Ehahaha, Schlahahatt, nohoho!”

“Schlatt, yes! Revenge, motherfucker!” He continued teasing and scratching at the bird man’s melt spot, until his wriggling and squirming had all but subsided. He looked into his dazed and tickled-silly eyes, smirking. “Is that all you could do? I think you can do better than that, birdie.” An idea popped up in his head, his ears flicking in excitement. “So, little birdie, do you think your little ‘dungeon’ would be helpful? I mean, nobody goes down there anyways. Perfect for us~” He sing-songed, grabbing and hoisting the bird man over his arm, with a bit of a struggle.

As he walked to the dungeon entrance, he continued to tease and prod at his melt spot, making sure Phil didn’t awaken from his ticklish daze. The man in question barely attempted to escape from him, making small little huffs and calls in between his laughter. As they descended into the barely-used ‘dungeon’, Philza began to put two and two together. He started squirming on his shoulder, protesting weakly under his breath. However, the ram wasn’t as weak as he looked, keeping him on his shoulder with ease. Once he reached a good room, he let go of him, letting him tumble to the ground unceremoniously. Philza attempted to escape, only to fall back to the ground with a squeak as Schlatt scribbled over one of his feet as he crawled on the floor. Schlatt grasped one of Phil’s ankles, pulling him onto an interrogation table with both hands. He flipped the bird man over, attaching restraints and chains with resounding clicks and clinks. At this point, Philza was genuinely struggling to escape, but try as he might, the bonds held firm. He looked over his shoulder in slight fear, but his wings blocked the view. He cursed his anatomy, not willing to unfold his wings and give Schlatt the advantage.

“So, Philza.” Schlatt’s booming voice made him flinch, wings tightening in their folded position. “Not so kingly now, huh? I ain’t a real citizen here, ya know. To all of your maids and butlers, all I am is a tiny little ram you keep as a pet.” He dug his fingers into one of his folded wings, rubbing at the down underneath. “That means that they’d never, ever believe that your little rammy would ever be able to truss you up like a prize pig, eh? Speaking of pigs.” He traced little shapes over his captive’s wings, delighting in the way that they shivered under his touch. “I think Techno’s out and about, isn’t he? I don’t think he, or any of your sons, for that matter- are going to come to your aid. It’s just me and you now. Any regrets?”

Phil, for good measure, was already giggling and hiccuping, squirming in his bonds as if that would change a thing. “Nohoho, plehehease! Schlahahatt!” “Please? Nah, I don’t think so. This is too good of an opportunity to give up, hm?” He drew a little face in his feathers, leaving them ruffled in his wake. Schlatt dragged his hands from the king’s wings down to his sides, tasering him. He watched the royal’s face contort into a forced-back smile, grinning evilly. “How does it feel to be on the receiving end, Philee? Coochie, coochie coo, my king~”

Philza whimpered slightly at the baby talk, blush burning brightly on his face. “N-no, Schlatt...nohohoho bahahaby tahahalk!” He shook his head, his bucket hat shifting dangerously on his head. Schlatt saw this and, with a dramatic flourish only the ram could muster for such a foolish thing, he scooped it up, placing it on his head haphazardly. “Whoopie, I’m the king now! Bow to your ruler, Phil…. Oh wait, you can’t.”

He dug his fingers back into his side, squeezing at the closest hip. The reaction was instantaneous. Phil bucked and arched his back, wings extending out like a black curtain to either side of him. “EhEEE! GihihiHIve mehIHI MiHIhi hahahat bahahack!” He snorted at that, balancing the hat precariously on one of his curling horns. Quickly taking advantage of the outspread wings, he dug his fingers into the inside of one, making sure that he dug deep enough into the feathers to poke at the muscle beneath. Once he had done so, he raked through the feathers, dragging his fingers over the sensitive muscles roughly. The bird hybrid tugged desperately at the chains, laughter making his whole body quiver like a worn-out violin. The wings themselves trembled, attempting to fold back in and away from the ram. He grabbed at the wing he was stroking, holding on to the crook of the wing firmly. “Oh no you don’t, you fucking pigeon.” He chortled at the feeling of the feathers fluffing up in annoyance underneath his hand. “IHIHI’M A EHEHEHAGLE, YOHOHOHOU FUHUHUCK!”

Schlatt ignored him in favor of digging his fingers deeper into his feathers. The king squawked, flapping his trapped wing and dislodging the other hybrid’s hands. He retracted them fully, tightening them so much they shook slightly with the effort. Ram ears flicked in annoyance, and Schlatt huffed a bit, stomping his hoof slightly at the recalcitrant lee. “Why, you little-” His eyes drifted to the king’s exposed back, and he rubbed his hands together, chuckling darkly. From the corner of his eye, he saw Phil’s feathers stand on end in alarm, which made him even more certain of his next move. He strode over to the other side of him, hooves making loud clopping noises as they struck the floor. “Hey Phil? I always wondered why you had such an exposed back on all of your clothes. After all, weren’t you oh so very ticklish there?” He dragged one finger up his spine, delighting in the little shivers and nervous giggles he got in response. “But now that I’ve been in your shoes, worn your crown, I think I’ve found out why, oh great king of the Arctic.”

He reached the small of his back, rubbing circles just around the melt spot teasingly. He leaned to the side, whispering into his ear. “I think this great king, the powerful warrior, yearns to be wrecked. Tickled until he can’t speak. He wants someone to rub and tease at his wings until he can’t breathe, can’t call for help. You love this, don’t you? You should give up on escaping, Philza. You’re mine.” He growled the last words, delighting in the way the warrior startled from his sudden tone change.

Philza whimpered loudly under him, pulling one wing over his face in embarrassment. “Y-yohohohou…” His whole body shook with the effort of not bursting into hiccupy laughter from the circling. His eyes pricked with tears. If he wasn’t chained down the way he was, he would’ve wiped them off in annoyance. A good king should never cry in front of their subjects. Then again, was Schlatt a subject? I mean, he did essentially just wander in with Tubbo at his heel. They-

He was quickly snapped out of his thoughts by a hand ghosting over the muscles of his back, the anticipatory giggles escaping from his mouth before he could stop them. Schlatt growled playfully, mimicking the emperor’s favored form of informing his sons of his mood. He started counting down, fingers wiggling just barely over the king’s shivering back. “10, 9, 8, 7…” As the countdown got closer and closer to zero, Phil got more and more nervous and giggly. He pushed the wing covering his face more into his mouth, effectively muffling his giggles. Schlatt frowned at that. “5..nah, that’s enough.” He started roughly scribbling all over his back, pinching and scritching at the base of his wings. He marvelled at the texture of the downy seams there. It was perfectly soft, similar to the feeling of a downy, silky pillow’s innards.

Philza’s wings flicked open fully, unable to resist the instinctual reaction. He shrieked, tears pricking at his eyes again. “EEEEAAAHAHAHA hic SCHLAHAHAHAHAT! NAHAHAHA- hic NOHOHOHOHO!” He bucked and squirmed, only to force Schlatt’s hands deeper into the sensitive plumage. The ram hybrid in question continued his onslaught, poking and prodding at every spot that made his laughter hitch up a notch. Soon enough, there were genuine tears rolling down Phil’s face.

At this point, the bird hybrid’s blush had reached his ears and down to his collarbone, tinting the lighter flesh a tanned pink. His wings had all but gone limp, hanging gently over the edge of the table and flapping gently when he gained enough energy to. Schlatt ignored the signs of his subject’s stamina flagging, choosing instead to mess with more areas around and slightly below the back. Once he heard his hiccups cease, however, he finally slowed to a stop, letting the winged man rest. He watched Phil’s chest rise and fall in shallow, stuttering heaves, before deciding to flip the man over. He placed him back in the cuffs, about to lock the last one in, only for Phil to grab onto his hand tightly.

He flicked his ears back, scared of the punishment he knew the emperor could bring upon him, but the only thing he felt was a small, unsteady circle on the meat of his thumb. He looked down to see a panting, smiling, tear-stained face, as regal and poised as he was undone by the rough tickling. “Schlahahatt, Ihihihi’m ahahalright.” He grinned widely at him, wings opening slightly from behind him. Schlatt looked at him, unsure. What if this was a trick? A ruse? If he manages to get me down here, he might execute me. I’ve never had to deal with a fucktard ruler like him before. He shook his head, moving to undo the restraints before he got into a deeper pile of shit. The king’s hand tightened, making him gasp from the sheer strength behind it. Didn’t this man just get wrecked?

Philza’s voice echoed in the room. “Schlahahatt. Ihihi.. Ihihi wahahant thihihis.” He looked back just in time to see Phil avert his eyes, blushing again from his intense (and confused) gaze. He looked at his form, simply admiring how weak and vulnerable he looked in the bonds. He was so used to seeing this very same form sitting on his throne, helping people with their work, being kind and caring in every manner to the people of the Arctic Empire. He had seen him in many a fight in the castle, wings out and spread like a living cape, sword shining like a beacon of hope in the darkness of night. He had listened to his booming voice, powerful and noble, yet rustic and warm with the sweet undertones of honey. He had seen it all from afar, heard of his deeds far and wide, long before he ever set hoof in the area. And here he was, holding such power and control over such a noble warrior, the one whose wings could reach the sun. For once in his life, he could not find a single snarky word to say, not a single thing to do. He could not move and break this peace, yet this man, the king with many names, had beckoned him forward to finish the job. He felt as if he were the one vulnerable and at someone’s mercy, not as if he was the one holding the rope.

He stepped forward robotically, closing and securing the last shackle. He stepped back, looking straight into the king’s confident, sky blue eyes. “A-are you sure I can do this to you, your majesty?” He managed to croak out, ears flicking nervously. He nibbled a tiny bit at the skin on his knuckles, shifting on his hooves. Phil nodded, hair bouncing up and down a little as he did so. “You may, Schlatt.” As he moved forward towards the bound man, Phil whispered under his breath, just barely loud enough for his sensitive ears to pick up. “Just remember, you’re going to pay for that stunt you pulled earlier, no matter what you do here.” He stepped back a bit at that, bleating in surprise. The winged man chuckled at his reaction, grinning sneakily at his captor.

Schlatt narrowed his eyes at him, stepping close to his face. He whipped out his hands from behind him, making Phil close his eyes instinctually, before untying his (as in, Tubbo’s, but he still hasn’t noticed the loss of it yet) scarf, pulling it over the king’s eyes. He secured it, tickling gently under his chin as he pulled away. Phil was definitely not expecting that, yelping long and loud at the sensory deprivation. He tucked his head into his shoulders at the gentle tickles, already laughing. The inability to see where Schlatt was going next was already killing him. “Schlahahahatt! Nohoho, plehehease nohoho!”

Schlatt raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh? Begging already? What happened to the ‘noble king’ act you were sporting a few minutes ago, hmm? Was that all bravado? Oh, please.” He started tracing shapes over the man’s torso, gently tickling there, and moving downwards to his belly. As he did so, he started getting more and more random, until he was scribbling and pinching all over his tummy haphazardly, reaching the same frenetic pace as before. Phil was already tearing up from this. Even though none of these spots were as bad as his back, the blindfold made it impossible to see where the ram would poke next. Every poke and scribble made him buck in the restraints. His mind screamed at him for deciding to let Schlatt do whatever he wanted. He could kill you anytime. Thankfully, he had already known that Schlatt wasn’t going to harm him. He had checked the ram’s pockets before they had started, stating that ‘he didn’t want him to attempt to steal anything and eat it as they went’. He had found no weapons or anything that could be used to kill him, so he waved that thought off with ease. He won’t touch me. He cares for me. He smiled in genuine happiness, trilling and cooing in the back of his throat in unadulterated joy.

The ram hybrid smiled, continuing to tickle at his tummy and sides. “Having fun there, Philza? I think you are~” As if he wanted to prove his point, he dug in a little harder, causing the bird hybrid to buck up more into his hands. His laughter went squeaky from underneath him, making him chuckle darkly. “Ohh, coochie, coochie coo! Doesn’t it feel good to be the one getting wrecked for once? Revenge is so sweet.”

Philza nodded his head wildly, making the ram chuckle even more at the intense looking movement. He moved to his hips, digging his nails into the strong bones there. He watched his king buck up and screech with laughter at the new movement, one hoof stomping happily in return. He squeezed and scribbled over the man’s hipbones, delighting in the honey-warmed laughter he got there. He wondered how the emperor could have such a smooth and comforting laugh, even when he was being tickled silly by one of his so-called ‘subjects’. He continued to rub and tease at his hips, enjoying the light pink trails that he left as he went. He moved back to his stomach, scratching with his thumbs over his abs. He gently rubbed at the scars, marvelling at the texture but wincing in empathy at the idea of how he had earned them.

To Philza, this was the most torturous yet heavenly thing to have ever happened to him. Never in his lifetime on the throne had anyone ever dared to fight back, much less restrain him and blindfold him in this manner. Sure, he had many a tickle fight with his sons before- but they’ve never, ever decided to go this far with him, even in the most intense of moments. Yet here he was, at the mercy of a hybrid he had met not long ago who had absolutely no affiliation to the throne nor the country. If he was anyone else, he would have been worried, afraid even, of this person, this enigma of a creature.

Fortunately (and unfortunately), he was not anyone else. He was not afraid of such a creature tumbling into his life, instead adopting him as one of his own and treating him similarly. He loved him dearly, and he was overjoyed to find that this rude, often grumpy ram hybrid called Schlatt truly loved him back. He knew that he wasn’t supposed to do this. He knew that his officials would have been concerned at his lack of safety, but he knew the truth. He knew that trust comes from powerful vulnerability. So, instead of snapping the restraints he knew exactly how to break, he sat there, wiggling in blissful agony as Schlatt dug into his most ticklish scars.

He didn’t remember how long he was there, tears streaming from his eyes, wings unfolding and refolding. He didn’t remember when Schlatt finally finished, unshackling him and rubbing at his chafed wrists, mumbling apologies. And he certainly didn’t remember when he drifted off to blessed unconsciousness, cuddling with the ram on the now-warm interrogation table, no. What he did remember was awakening to see a now very trussed-up Schlatt, hanging from his wrists just barely on a stool, with two of his sons growling at him menacingly. “W-wait, boys! T-techno, Wilbur! We can t-talk about this, right?” He looked desperately at the king, ears flicking back in fear. He got up from the table, wings stretching out fully behind him. As he walked forward, wings dusting the ground as he went, he grinned at the terrified hybrid. “Remember what I said earlier about what I’d do to you for yesterday?” His eyes glimmered with mischief. “It’s payback time.” And so, the ram’s laughter echoed through the dungeon, bouncing off of the restraints that so tightly bound the king, sealing his fate for that morning (and the day after, for good measure).

Thank you for reading. Bird thanks you.

#mcyt tickle #downywrites #lee!philza #ler!schlatt #dsmp tickle #my writing #sfw tickling

93 notes · View notes

illneverrecover · 4 years

Text

Take Me to Church (M) | JJK

➛pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

➛genre: gang!AU, tattooed!Jungkook, smut, fluff.

➛word count: 5,114

➛rating: M

➛warnings: sub/switch Jungkook, power play, praise, body worship, face sitting, oral sex (both giving and receiving), dirty talk, profanity, mentions of weeb JK, unprotected sex, riding, slight cock warming mentions, JK is a soft sweet boy.

➛summary: You can always tell when something is bothering your boyfriend, despite how hard he tries to hide it - and you have creative ways to get him to talk.

➛notes: MY FIRST EVER COMMISSION! As soon as I mentioned opening commissions, my cherub friends jumped at the chance and sent in several requests, @quinnkoo being the first. She asked for sweet soft switchy tattooed Jungkook smut with some power play, and I immediately thought back to the Gang!AU drabble I wrote her last year, and decided to play off of that. It’s not necessary to read that one first, but it’ll give some more back story if you’re curious. Thank you so much, Quinny. I hope you enjoy 🖤

➛song: Church - Fall Out Boy & My Time - BTS

“Ugh! I’m sick of all this rambling. When’s Kakashi going to come back?” you sigh, head plopping onto your boyfriend's shoulder. You waited a few breaths for his teasing reply - he couldn’t help but to drag you after you revealed your favorite character and your totally normal crush on him - but when it didn’t come, your brow furrowed.

He had insisted on the marathon of his favorite anime, eyes lighting with childlike glee as he explained the premise, but he had been noticeably quiet the last few episodes.

Something was up.

A wayward glance at Jungkook told you that your suspicions were right; his wide rich amber eyes were facing the screen, but the light behind them was absent. He was chewing his bottom lip, large front teeth poking out every few seconds, the hand not wrapped around you rubbing at one of the tattoos on his forearm. All the telltale signs that something was Bothering Jeon Jungkook™.

It didn’t take long for you to know what was on his mind. Reading him had been something you excelled at since day one, his body an open book that you have delved so deep inside you knew him better than you knew yourself.

On the outside, Jungkook was the embodiment of the word ‘tough’, which would be fitting of a member of his stature. He was part of the well renowned gang Bangtan, something you had known since the first meeting, and he looked the part - typically dressed in all black, clothes baggy and yet somehow still flattering his lean muscles, ink decorating his arms and neck. A single hoop hung from his nose, messy dark hair hanging low in his eyes - and with one look, it had been over for you.

But that was only one facet to Jungkook.

On the inside, he was marshmallow, soft and gooey and tooth rotting sweet. The type of man who believes in soulmates, who coos at kittens in store windows, who teared up while watching Frozen II (with an adamant cry of, “babe, Olaf is GONE” when you asked if he was alright). He is so thoughtful, always worrying about everyone else - his brothers, his family, you - before himself. A pure heart of gold wrapped in a deliciously decorated package.

Which is why you knew he was still thinking about what happened the day prior.

It had been such a silly thing, something that you had mentioned once but that he couldn’t get out of his mind, and he had wanted to surprise you. He could barely contain his own excitement when he picked you up, admiring your sundress while his legs bounced with untapped energy, insisting you closed your eyes until you had reached your destination.

The Tea Parlor had been perfect, everything you had imagined when you had casually dropped the idea of high tea to your boyfriend. The room was giant and open, windows taking up all of the walls, light spilling in to make the finery of the tea cups and serving trays glisten. You had squealed with excitement, rushing up to the hostess with a spring in your step, Jungkook giggling as he stepped up behind you.

She was friendly at first, polite smiles and kind eyes, until she heard the name the reservation was under. The minute Jungkook’s name spilled from his lips, the hostess went cold, stiff. Her disgust was blatant as she openly glared at him, gaze dragging up and down his form before doing the same to you. Before you could ask what was wrong, she snatched up the menus, giving a curt “Right this way, Mr. Jeon” before turning on her heel, leading you both to the back of the parlor.

A warm palm at the small of your back had you turning to look at Jungkook, seeking comfort in his gaze, but instead he was focused on the woman in front of you, eyes arctic and emotionless. He guided you to follow the hostess weaving between tables, and it was only once you were both seated that she addressed him again, voice pitched low. “You may have other people’s respect around here, but not mine. I know who you are and what you do. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Placing a menu down, she turned to face you, vitriol lacing her voice. “You should be, too. Out with a man like this, flaunting yourselves? It’s offensive.”

You weren’t sure how long you had sat in shocked silence when she made her exit, the menus laying unopened on the table. She had put you in the very back of the room, in a darkened corner, something you would normally disapprove of - but once seeing the look on Jungkook’s face, you were glad not to have an audience.

“What in the fuck was her problem?” you scoff, reaching a hand to lay on top of his own. “Jungkook, don’t listen to that shit. She has no idea what she’s talking about.”

He was still silent, his free arm clenching and unclenching slowly on top of the delicate lace tablecloth. He hadn’t looked up at you since the hostess had left, but you could see the unchecked rage sparking his eyes, the calculated way he was chewing his lip. His mind was racing, and you weren’t sure where it would land - but you wanted him to know you were here.

“We don’t have to stay, babe. We can go somewhere else for high tea,” you murmured, smoothing a thumb over the inked words on his knuckles. “Or, we can go shopping, have our own high tea with unlimited tiny sandwiches and desserts, where no judgmental bitches are allowed.”

He snorted then, the corner of his lip turning. “So what, then you won’t come to your own high tea?”

You had flicked his hand then with a laugh, moving to interlace his fingers with your own, and after a few whispered declarations of love, he had lifted you from your seat, stopping to twirl you once before guiding you to the front of the parlor to exit.

He only turned back once he was sure you were safe outside the door, mumbling a “gimme a minute” before he was darting inside, tall form stalking towards the hostess yet again. You weren’t sure what he had said to the woman, but you could see her face - the fear that pooled in her eyes - and you knew it was enough.

It had been two days since the incident, and Jungkook had been off since. Instead of any usual errands, he had holed you both up in the apartment, nesting and appeasing you with copious cheese snacks and shirtless cuddles on the couch. You had tried to gently ask if he wanted to talk more about it, prompt him in quiet moments and in the protection of your arms, but he always skirted around it, insisting everything was fine, instead pulling you in for a kiss and a reminder that he loves you.

It made your heart ache, to see the man that you love so much, the twin flame to your soul feel like he couldn’t open up, couldn’t untangle the threads in his mind. He was always worrying about you, taking extra precautions in his work and personal life to ensure your safety, and you found yourself wishing desperately that he would let you take care of him for once.

He had never been good at keeping his emotions hidden.

You turn your eyes to the screen once more, catching the end of the episode, the screen cutting to black just as Naruto yells “I’ll never let my comrades die!”, which was a pretty good sign that you had been spacing out in thought for longer than you meant to. As the ending credits played, you nudged Jungkook with your shoulder, turning to face him.

“Babe?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Well, it’s just - I gave you the perfect opener to roast me about my love for Kakashi and you didn’t take the bait,” swinging your legs into his lap, you move your arms to drape loosely around his neck. “Didn’t even blink. Doesn’t sound like the Jungkook I know.”

He hums then, palming your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Why?”

Internally, you sighed. You knew this wasn’t the case, but it also seemed that every attempt to discuss things had been thwarted by the beautiful man one way or another. You needed him to feel ready to open up, to feel vulnerable - and as you stared at the strong, toned arm now touching you, an idea clicked into place.

He grunts an affirmation, turning to face you, inked hands smoothing a path up your legs. There’s a smirk on his face, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re right, I was distracted. I was thinking-”

Pressing a finger to his lips, you shush him. “First of all, I’m always right. Haven’t you learned that by now?”

Jutting his chin, he nips at the digit, trapping it between the edges of his teeth. “Sounds fake.”

“Second of all..” you continue, voice husky with a new bead of lust pooling low in your gut. You drag your finger over the plush flesh of his lip before sliding lower, tapping his chin once before you grip his jaw tightly. The responding hiss he gives makes you smirk deviously. “No more thinking. I think it’s time for more distractions.”

Jungkook whines lowly as you move to straddle his lap, your palm still clutching his mouth to pull him closer to you. Your free hand smooths the hair out of his face, nails raking lightly against his scalp.

“Is that okay?” your lips ghost against his own, close enough that he could capture them into a kiss if he wanted, but instead he nods his head, eyes heavy with longing.

Threading your fingers around his midnight locks, you give one sharp tug, exposing his intricately tattooed throat as he keens once more. Releasing his jaw, you drop your head, mouth puckered and planting a kiss on his pulse point. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Jungkook’s chest is heaving, pulse galloping wildly beneath your palm. He hitches a breath, swallowing thickly. “Fuck, baby. Yes, yes that’s okay,” he rasps, words needy and rushed.

Large palms cup your ass, pulling you closer until you are flush against him, and you moan against his neck as he kneads the flesh, his hips raising off the couch. His tongue finds the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and your eyes roll back as he nibbles and licks at the tender skin.

Giving in for a moment, you enjoy the feeling of Jungkook’s mouth on your heated body, the warmth of his lips and tongue igniting a fever in your bones, his hands still pulling at the globes of your ass until you were dragging your core over his clothed cock.

It was a deep growl from his chest that brought you back, lifting your head away from his dangerous mouth. This was supposed to be about him relaxing, but if you continued down this path, you knew you’d be lost under his spell.

With great effort, you step off of his lap, knees wobbly as you untangle yourself from Jungkook’s form, though the sight before you makes you want to collapse. Jungkook looks beyond fucked out, eyes dark and shining with desire, his lips ruddy and shining with overuse. He’s panting, his black t-shirt seemingly straining against heaving muscles, the imprint of his cock evident and thick even through his sweatpants.

God, you wanted to ruin him.

“Lay down for me,” you husk, throat painfully dry. You watch as he does what he’s told, laying until his whole body is now on the couch, his umber gaze never leaving yours.

“Good boy.”

He rolls his eyes then, but his cheeks flush, the praise affecting him despite his embarrassment. “Don’t make fun of me, babe. I’m a very powerful man.”

Chuckling, you move to slide off your sweatpants, stepping out of them and your panties once they hit the floor. A quick flick of your wrist has your top discarded across the room - and leaves you bare before Jungkook.

“I know you are. But I also know you like it when I take care of you, hmm?” you move closer, hovering just by the edge of where he’s laying, planning your next step.

Jungkook can’t take his gaze off of you, doe eyes obsidian and devouring you whole, darting between your face and splendidly naked form. His hand grips his bulge , palming himself as he hisses in response.

Climbing over his lap once more, you pause before settling, instead gripping the edges of his shirt to pull over his head, tossing it errantly. Drinking him in, you trace the lengths of his abdomen, grazing over his nipples before following the inked lines down his arms, hands intertwining. Dropping your hips, you roll them once against his hardened cock, moaning at the friction before you move his arms to rest above his head.

“Leave these here,” you order, but there’s no bite, only softness as you trace back the lines of his palms, the underside of his biceps. He was peering down, wanting to watch your every move, regarding you with admiration as you leaned forward, pressing a wet kiss to his collarbone.

You take your time, dragging your lips back and forth along the planes of his toned chest, nipping and suckling reddened blemishes on his skin, relishing in the sounds he was making for you - just for you. A quick glance told you that he’s behaving, arms still perched above his head and draped onto the side of the couch, though twitching when you would reach a sensitive spot with your mouth. His eyes are closed, bottom lip tucked beneath his teeth, and when you lap at the hollow of his throat, his brow furrows in strain, as if it took every effort to not reach down and pull you closer to him.

Seeing him blissed out beneath you, relinquishing his control despite his body screaming at him not to has heat flooding your veins, your cunt clenching in desire. If there was one thing that turned you on more than Jungkook existing, it was pleasing him until he forgot his own name.

With a groan, you lift your lips to press against his own, gasping when his tongue immediately slides into your mouth, tangling with yours. Jungkook always kisses with such passion, hunger edging in every suckle and nibble of your pout, lips moving in tandem. For a moment, you allow yourself to drown in it, relishing the taste of him, kissing him until you’re forced to pull away for air.

Pressing your forehead to his, you pause, allowing you both time to breathe, your hand rising to cup the silk line of his jaw. His eyes look pained, brows pulled taunt as he looks up at you, and you can feel the sinew muscle beneath your palm twitch.

Nuzzling against his nose once, twice, you press a chaste kiss against his lips once more. “Jungkook,” you breathe, searching his gaze. “It’s okay. I’m with you, I got you,”

He swallows thickly, nodding. “I know, babe, I know you do.” He leans forward, chasing your mouth, tugging your bottom lip lightly between his teeth before dropping. “I just, I hate that she said that to you, that you get treated differently because of me, because of who I am-”

Hushing him with a kiss is much more effective than with your words, and you continue to lick into his mouth until he's groaning beneath you once more, your name a whispered mantra on his lips.

“I don’t care what she thinks, what anyone thinks. I know you, Jungkook, and I love you.”

“I love you too, baby. So much.”

It was only once the yearning and eagerness came back to light his eyes that you continue, sitting up on all fours so you could crawl upwards. Hips dangling precariously above his face, you could see a quirk of his eyebrow before he looked up at you once more, gaze dripping in wonder.

“You gonna sit on my face, hmm? Let me taste you?” he rasps, hands moving from their invisible restraints to slide up the outside of your thighs. You let him explore for a brief moment, savoring the sensation of calluses dragging against your soft skin, before you grab his wrists, pinning them back above him.

“Only if you’re a good boy for me.”

A giggle escapes you at his expression, but before he could protest you lower yourself to his mouth, letting out a sigh when puckered lips immediately latch onto your throbbing clit. He drags his tongue against it before tugging it between plush lips, suckling harshly, your eyes rolling back as you grip the couch to steady yourself.

“Fuck, Jungkook,”

Grinning against your core, he alternates his attack, lapping your wetness, licking the length of your vulva before focusing again at the hardened bud at your apex. Just when your thighs start to tense, your high within reach, he moves back to tonguing your slickened core slowly, moaning as he tastes you like a man starved.

Reaching down, you grab a fistful of his hair, pulling him closer to your aching center, briefly regretting your decision to not let him touch you - but too stubborn to lift the request. “You’re so good, baby.” you mewl, hips rutting against him. “So good to me, I’m so close, please don’t stop.”

Jungkook’s tongue lashes against your cunt with a renewed fervor, your praise spurring him on with the only goal being to satisfy you. As the band in your stomach tightens, your thighs start trembling, making him groan against you before focusing on your clit, the vibrations of his mouth proving to be too much alongside the onslaught of his suckled kisses.

With a cry of his name you tumble over the edge, releasing the pent up orgasm with a flood of liquid arousal, Jungkook lapping up every drop as you give it to him. He’s whispering praise all the while, telling you how good you did for him, how delicious you taste - taking care of you even as he guides you through the crest. Feeling weak as you come down, you shudder a breath, hand reaching to stabilize you on the couch edge long enough to move away from that dangerous mouth of his.

“God, that was so hot, Y/N, you’re so good to me,” his voice is rough, gravelly with misuse. Unable to stop himself, his arms come to cradle your shivering form to his chest, laying you completely on top of him.

You give in, allowing yourself time to catch your breath and regain stability in your wobbling bones. His hand smooths against your hair, cooing softly at you. When you feel firmly returned to earth, Jungkook shifts, moving as if he wanted to pin you beneath him.

“Are you going to be good for me now?” he smirks, eyebrow raised in cocky defiance, the kind only earned from having the skills to back it up.

Returning the smile, you shake your head, pushing his chest back down to the couch. “Absolutely not, who said I was done with you?”

A retort dies on his lips at the sight of you slinking down his legs, hands pulling his sweatpants on your descent, his cock red and dripping in precum as it slaps taunt against his abdomen. Sucking a digit into your mouth, you pull it out with a lewd pop to trace lightly up and down his length, stopping to swirl it around the leaking head.

The thick cords of muscle in his tattooed clad thighs tense at the light touch, and his hips rise to chase the contact. “Baby, you’re going to kill me, please,” he whines, and it’s sweet music to your ears.

“Hmm, want me to touch you? To taste you?” you murmur, dropping your head to kiss lightly up his shaft - just enough pressure to let him know you were there, but not enough for any sort of relief.

“God, I want you so fucking bad,” he mumbles frantically, words tying around his tongue thickened with lust. “Please, baby. I’d do anything. You want me to beg? I’ll get on my knees,”

He cuts off with a moan when you slip the tip into the molten heat of your mouth, worshiping the sensitive flesh with your tongue, sucking gently. He’s bucking now, desperate to feel more, but you pull back enough to not allow his cock to sink further into your mouth, content to lap at the reddened head until he was dripping.

Savoring the hardened lines of his body and the lecherous way he was looking at you for a moment longer, you finally acquiesce, dragging your mouth down his shaft until you could nuzzle the hairs at his pelvis. The growl that rumbled through his chest was your reward, his hands now sliding through your hair to tug at your scalp.

“Fuck, so good,” he babbles, gulping for air. “Feels so good, you’re so good to me.”

Pacing yourself, you glide up and down, tongue swirling around velvet steel as you take him fully, one hand cupping around his base. While his length was impressive, it was the girth that took you time to adjust to, and once you were used to the heaviness on your tongue you increase your speed, taking him as far back into your throat as possible before swallowing around him.

Jungkook cries out, your name tumbling from his lips as his hands tighten in your hair. He thrusts shallowly up into your mouth once, twice, before he hisses, pulling you off of him with a grunt.

“I-I can’t, you can’t keep doing that,” he stutters, licking the salt off his lips. “If you do, I’m going to come.”

Grinning, you slide your fist that had been holding him steady up his shaft, squeezing lightly. “What if that’s what I want? What if I want you to make a mess for me?”

The cock in your hand pulses at your words, and pride swells in your chest, a wicked light brimming in your eyes. “Jungkook?” your free hand moves to cradle the weight of his balls, massaging gently. “Would you let me?”

He whines, head slamming back into the pillows as he gives in to your tease. “Did I mention that you’re going to be the death of me? Because if not, I would like to make sure that statement is on record.”

“Well, that’s not an answer.”

Bucking his hips, his hands slide from your hair to rest on top of your own. “Yes,Y/N. I’d let you do whatever you want to me. I’d let you wreck me thoroughly and I’d thank you for it when it was over,” he pants, before pulling your grip off his throbbing arousal.

Pouting, you watch with narrowed eyes as he sits up, his inked palm coming to caress your cheek. “But right now,” he timbers, voice low, “I want nothing more than to feel you, bury myself inside you. To have your tight pussy squeezing around me as I come. ”

Tracing the lines of your lips, he leans to ghost his mouth against yours, breath intertwining. “Will you let me?” he whispers, imitating your words, nosing down to your pulse point, your throat. A surge of desire had your thighs pressing together, your nipples pebbling as he scorches your neck with the fire of his tongue.

Shoving him down, you straddle him once more, wasting no time to reach behind you to firmly grasp his cock and sheath it into your awaiting heat. You both moan at the plunge, his thickness stretching you deliciously until the pressure ebbed into pleasure.

Once you are fully seated, you lean over him, watching his face intently as you roll your hips gracefully, slowly. Jungkook angles up far enough to pull a nipple into his mouth, encircling it with tongue until you were groaning for him. Inked arms snaked down to grasp at the meat of your ass, dragging you back and forth, your engorged bundle of nerves grinding deliciously against his pelvis. You couldn’t help but to keen loudly, gasps for air becoming more desperate as your unhurried pace tortures you both into delirium.

It’s then he speaks, tone husky as he admires you. “You are so perfect, so beautiful, baby,” he presses swollen lips into your neck, your collarbone, your breast. “Perfect for me.”

His hands slide up to grasp your hips, fingers pressing so deep you were sure they’d leave small bruises in his wake. Moving to plant his feet firmly against the couch, he starts to thrust up into you, his assault relentless as his tight grip pins you in place. Crying out, you throw your head back, eyes closing against the euphoria of him stroking every sensitive spot inside of you on each plunge.

“So good, taking me so good,” he croaks, voice thick with lust. “God, look at you. Falling apart for me.”

You clench then, tightening around his cock and making him choke on a moan. “I can make you fall apart for me t-too,” you breathe, placing your hands on his broad chest to help you meet each snap of his pelvis.

“I know you can, baby. You can make me do anything,” his eyes meet yours then, intense and overflowing with admiration. “I worship you, f-fuck. Love you, I love you so much.”

You try to hold eye contact, but his pace is relentless, his cock filling you to the brim, ravaging you with stamina only he could possess. “I love you too, Jungkook,” moaning, you start to meet each thrust, chasing your high.

He can tell you’re close, tell by the way your eyes are squeezed tight, your cheeks blooming pink, mouth agape in a silent scream. He sits up, settling you onto his lap so he could be face to face with you. “Open your eyes, I want to see you,” he hisses, hands still guiding you to bounce on his length. “I wanna watch you come for me, wanna come with you.”

Prying open your heavy lids, you meet the matchbook fire in his gaze, feeling yourself tighten around him at the carnal lust he assaults you with. You were close, so close, and when he whines out another melody of your name, you feel the thinned band finally snap, throwing you into your second orgasm.

Jungkook fucks you through it, composure lost when you clench around him like a vice, and he reaches his peak as you’re coming down, groaning as he spills himself inside of you. It takes his hips a moment to catch up, stuttering a few final snaps before resting, and then he’s tugging you down to him, pressing your form tightly to his own.

Heavy panting filled the room, and you let the rhythmic beating of his heart bring you back to earth, lull you until your eyes were heavy with fatigue. Jungkook was still inside you, and you could feel him softening though he made no indication of moving. An inked hand rose to sink into your hair, scratching your scalp soothingly.

“You’re the best at distractions,”

“I know.”

Licking his dry lips, he whistles lowly. “Spend the night with me?”

You chuckle, sliding your palm to rest on his chest. “I live here, you dummy.” Humming, you trace the patterns of the designs etched into his skin serenely . “We should still talk about it, though. What’s bothering you.”

He stiffens beneath you, letting loose a shaky breath. Silence envelopes you both, so you continue. “You know I have no regrets about the choices I made, about choosing you. I can protect myself. And I’ll always defend you, Jungkook.”

“I know,” he starts, tone shifting. “I always knew my lifestyle would bring some challenges, and I was ready to face them. But when it affects the people I love - when it affects you - I just,” he pauses, chewing on his lip as he searches for the words. “I just hate it. I know you don’t need me to, but it makes me want to shield you from the world. Lock you away with me, safe from everything. Just the two of us.”

Your heart squeezes tightly at his words, at the sincerity in his voice. You don’t like that he’s worried over you, but you also understand that this is just him, his heart. He will always want to shelter those he loves from pain, and it’s one of the million reasons you trusted him with your life - loved him so deeply.

“We’ve done a pretty good job at that the last few days, I think,” you smirk, resting your chin on his chest to meet his eyes. “We can get through anything as long as we’re together, you know?”

Jungkook grins then, one of his wide ones that crinkles his nose and shows off his teeth, and the rush of love that hits your veins makes you dizzy.

“I know, baby.”

You continue to talk for a few more moments, content to be wrapped up in his embrace, despite the fact that you were both nude and in great need of a shower. When you finally move to stand, stretching your limbs over your head, another thought crosses your mind.

“Wait, I need to know - what did you tell the hostess that day? At the tea parlor?”

Jungkook rises to full height next to you, hair sweaty and flopping into his eyes. He tilts his head, expression sliding into one more serious. “I told her that I was glad she knew who I was, because then she knew what would happen if she ever so much as looked at you the wrong way again…” he trailed off, stepping closer to give you a glimpse of his cold glare, a small taste of the power he possessed.

“And that is I would leave her a terrible review on Yelp. I’m talking abysmal, zero stars, and a detailed essay on just how unprofessional she was. Tell all my friends to do the same. She’d be lucky to have a job by the end of the week when I was through.”

You stare at him wide eyed for a beat before laughter overtakes you, arms rising to slide around his neck, pulling him closer. He was trying - and failing - to keep the serious look on his face, eyes glittered with mischief, chuckles rumbling low in his chest. Pecking the side of his upturned pout, you sigh dreamily.

“My hero.”

2K notes · View notes

pretoriafics · 3 years

Text

Russian Roulette - Pt. 3

In this series, you will find: Alternative Universe, Soulmate plot, Angst, Fluff. In this chapter, you will find: You went to the Friday night party, but, yeah, you think you found out about what the ginger lady had talked about with you that day at the restaurant. Word count: 2.020 Pairings: Reader x Platonic! Scott and Stiles; Reader x Derek Original characters of this chapter: Elodie, your french friend, and Au pair; Astrid, your german friend, and Au Pair; Bennie, your host mom; Warnings: English is not my main language <3 Yeah, it was based on Russian Roulette by Rihanna Russian Roulette series: Chapter Two | Chapter Four RUSSIAN ROULETTE MASTERLIST TEEN WOLF MASTERLIST

You thought about that ginger lady all days that week. Her words were so weird and creepy...

But she was right. You were definitely looking for something: you were looking for the truth about your friends. Everything was okay until you met Derek that day in the accident. And since that, a strange woman came to you.

The truth is not what you're expecting the woman said. So, the truth about your boys was not criminal issues? Something inside of you tells that a criminal issue with the boys would be easier to deal with. But if the boy's secrets were nothing related to crime, what the hell are they hiding, so?

You saved the address the woman gave to you, but you didn't read it. You didn't have the courage yet. But you don't want to think about it right now: It's Friday! And you have a party to go to.

Stiles sent you a lot of texts, trying to plan something for Friday night. You know he just doesn't want you to go to that party for some reason you don't know. And that is the biggest reason you definitely should go there.

You wear your red and short dress and then you were ready to enjoy the night. A few friends went to your house, to give a ride for you, and quickly you guys arrived at a huge house. It was full of drunk people, with loud music and dancing bodies. The house is located close to the woods, so there are no mad neighbors to complain about the loud music - which is great. You just want to enjoy the night and forget about the ginger lady and the secret of your boys.

Well, things were being really fun. You were dancing, you met some cute guys, and you drank just two glasses of alcoholic drinks. It was enough to let you "happier". You weren't used to drinking, so you were the joke of the night after being so excited with just two glasses.

You were talking with two other Au Pairs: Elodie, the girl from France, and Astrid, the german one.

"But you drank just two glasses! Come on, take just one more!"

Astrid was putting more drink in a cup for you, but the truth is that you really didn't like to drink too much. You don't trust anyone to watch you when you lose control over yourself, and if you lost control over yourself, anyone could do anything with you.

"No, thank you. I'm done."

Suddenly, you saw through the window behind Astrid something that gave you shivers. It was a pair of red and demonic eyes looking at you from the woods. Your face blushed from the high temperature of your body, became white in fear. You simply can't take your eyes off that creepy eyes.

"Hey girl, do you saw a ghost or something like that?"

Elodie's french accent pulls you to reality again, and your gaze finds her.

"Uh, no... I just think I need some fresh air."

You turn your back, without gave more explanations to the confused girls who are looking at you walking to the front door. You hear Astrid shout for you:

"But how about Stephen? He will come soon!"

"Tell him I'll be back!"

The house behind you was pure fun and party, but despite having fun, you thought that you needed some fresh air. What that eyes was? Maybe just something inside your head. You haven't had drank enough to get out of control, and even if you had, a glass of some random drink wouldn't give you hallucinations.

Well, you would back to the party a few minutes later. Now, you just need some walking.

You took your high heels off and began to walk on the street. The breeze of the night was giving you a gentle hug, and while the sound of the music becomes low, you find out that yeah, you kinda like those night walkings. All that silence, the fresh air, the peace... Wow, you should do it more.

But your peace was gone when you noticed that a man was stalking you.

Crap.

He is high, with large shoulders. You haven't a chance against him. Scared and worried, your walk becomes faster and faster, hoping that the man finally has gone. But when you crossed the street to come back to the house, you saw that the man has gone. Actually, seems like he evaporated in the air.

Okay, the party is over to you. You would come back to the party and ask for a ride for someone. And done.

When you gave the first step in the party's direction, a huge wolf jumped in front of you, roaring in a way that almost did your heart stop. You shout loud.

"What the hell?! Help!"

You began to run in the opposite direction of the party, running from that unreal wolf who was hunting you. Tears were scrolling down your face, in pure desperation while it runs to chase you. You throw your high heels to the thing, and your heels hit its snout. It seems to work because the wolf shook its head, bothered. It gave you time enough to run even faster while you catch your phone in your bag. The first number you tried to call was Sebastian.

"Come on, Bash, come on!"

But then, a voice coming out of your phone says something that fills you with horror.

"This phone is off. Please try again later."

"Damn!"

The next number you had tried to call was Stiles. He could ask his dad for help, and maybe you could be saved. Happily, you heard his voice.

"Hey, you thought about my proposal of-"

"Stiles, call your dad, I need help!"

The wolf roared for you and, suddenly, it jumps. You let out a loud shout and deflect its attack, changing your route and running to the woods.

"What's happening?!"

"There's a huge wolf behind me! Please, I need help!"

"Where are you?! Are you at that party?"

The wolf runs in your direction and jumps again. It pushes its feet into a tree and, then, it flies in your direction. You put yourself down, deflecting again of its attack, but your phone fell in the middle of the leaves. Terrified, you come up with your foot against a rooted tree and fell.

Crying as you'd never cried before, you got up and, tired, you take strength inside of you to run one more time, as a way to delay your imminent death. But seems like that were your lucky day.

A skinny figure jumps in the wolf's direction, and they roll through the leaves on the floor. The wolf got up, and let out a loud roar. When you turn yourself to understand what the hell has happened, you saw Scott stopped in front of the wolf. However, he wasn't the same: His face was bestial. Close to him, you saw another figure you hadn't seen coming while you were running. You recognize that figure too: Derek, with the same bestial face. But just when Scott turns his animal face to you, you got certain that, yeah, that thing was he.

"(Y/N)... Run."

But the Wolf seems stronger than Derek and Scott. With a hit, the wolf throws them into the air, and Derek and Scott hit the trees. The wolf run in your direction and you try to run, but things were different this time. You heard two roars when the wolf hits you with such strength, that you hit in the tree. Everything becomes dark after this.

"Is she okay? You've come in time?"

You know that voice! It was from Stiles. Your eyes opened slowly, but you still were dizzy with the blow. Your vision was completely blurred, but you could recognize the environment around you. You were lied down to what seems like a backseat, and your head was in someone's lap - Stiles's lap. You saw his worried face when you look up.

"She's fine. The Alpha didn't bite her."

That voice was from Scott, you were pretty sure. He was at the passenger's seat.

"How do you know?"

"Because we check her before brings her here, smart-ass. What do you think?"

Another familiar voice. What was his name? Daryl? Devon?

"Oh, really Derek? I thought that, I don't know, after the Alpha's bite, the mark of the bite disappears!"

But then, the voice of Scott is heard.

"Shhh! Guys, I think she's waking up!"

Stiles looks at you, with such concern in his eyes.

"Hey, miss sunshine. You okay?"

But your head was aching so much! You just close your eyes again, becoming so tired suddenly. You heard Derek's voice now, but he seems so far away from you.

"She will not stay awake too long. Luckily, she will think everything was a nightmare."

Scott let out a long sigh.

"I hope so."

That was the last thing you heard before get unconscious again.

You woke up, scared and sweat. Quickly, you sat in the bed, with a heavy breath and confused. Your head is aching a little bit, but you think it's just a silly headache.

You let out a long sigh and get up from the bed. You took your phone from the bedside table and... Wow, you don't remember to let your phone fall for it get a cracked screen. Still, you could saw a lot of messages from Astrid and Elodie. You chose to read the messages from Elodie first.

"Girl, where are you? Someone found a dead body in the master suite!"

"Where are you?!"

"I'll call the police."

"Please, please just be safe. I'm so afraid of what could be happened to you!"

"We will go back to the party's house, Astrid is freaking out. We don't care if it's dangerous, we just want you safe."

"GIRL I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU DIDN'T TELL US THAT YOU'VE BEEN TALKING WITH THAT GUY!! HE'S SO HOT!! HAVE FUN!! You almost made us got a heart attack of worries! Next time advise us."

If that was Elodie's message, you can't imagine Astrid's messages. But... What happened? A body? A guy?

Then, you realize that you didn't remember to come back home from the party. You froze. You gave a step forward, to put your phone on the dressing table, but you felt something aching in your left knee: You were hurt! It was just a silly injury, you probably fell sometime at the party last night. But, then, you remembered.

The giant wolf. The chasing. Scott and Derek. Stiles looking at you.

You look at your phone: Yeah, you let it fall when you were running. Your knee: You fell when you're trying to save your life. Your head: You had been thrown in a tree.

Oh my God.

Scared and trying to assimilate things, you go downstairs and realize that it was 10:30 AM. It was Saturday, your day off, and Bennie was in the kitchen while the girls and Sebastian were running in the backyard. When Bennie saw you coming, she smiled.

"Good morning! Hungry? I did some cookies! But be hurry to eat all of them, you know Sebastian loves cookies, and you just have a few minutes after he got tired of being running with the girls outside."

"Bennie... You know, I think I drank too much last night and..." No, you do not think you drank too much last night "...And I'm not sure about who gave me a ride back home."

"Oh," She gave you a suggestive gaze. "Who would be? Hale, of course! He's a great guy, took care of you! He said that you got really scared after someone found a body in the house, so you got nausea and felt dizzy. And he brought you here. You didn't remember it?"

"Yeah, yeah, now you said it, I think I'm remembering."

You lied, again. But the only thing you have pretty sure, is that tomorrow you would talk with the priest that ginger lady told you.

53 notes · View notes

aficwhore · 4 years

Text

Times Square Significance

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, oral(female receiving), cockwarming, lovemaking?, language

Word Count: 1,986

Summary: After Aaron proposes in New York City, him and the reader head back to their hotel for a romantic night.

A/N: It has been super duper long since I’ve last written but this came to my head and I HAD to put it out into the internet. Let me know if you like it! Send in requests!!! I also didn’t spell check… oops.

Reader POV:

It was about time that Aaron and I took a small vacation. The BAU had started to get really stressful with the amount of cases popping up and people needing our help. Finally died down and we decided to get away, even if it was just for a few days. We drove all the way to New York City, just because Aaron knew how much I loved it.

Today is our second day here, I’ve been so excited that I woke up early to find Aaron curled up on my side with his head resting on my chest. His deep breaths fanning over my exposed skin, his floppy dark locks tickling my neck. I began to card my fingers through his hair, not wanting to wake him, but that failed when he started to stir a little bit.

Aaron muffled, “What time is it,” still groggy from his slumber.

“It’s 10 o’clock sleeping beauty,“ I quietly giggled. He slightly shook his head at the nickname, a light blush making its way to his cheeks. Without saying anything he got up and went to the bathroom, only for the shower to start seconds later. Taking this as a sign to get ready, I climbed out of bed and opened up my suitcase. I wasn’t sure what to wear, I had no idea what her plans were for today on the town. Just as I was thinking Aaron yelled from the bathroom, “Wear something nice! We might go see if we can snag tickets for a show!”

My heart fluttered, he knows how much I love Broadway. “Oh yeah? Which one are you thinking?“ I question as he walked out of the bathroom with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist.

“That I’m not actually sure of, what’s the one with the soundtrack you listen to? The ghost in the theater or something?“ He asked.

Giggling I reply, “Phantom of the opera, silly. But I will admit that was cute.“

He walked over to me, “I try.“ He quickly picked me on the lips in rummages through his suitcase for clothes.

I finally choose a red, flowy dress, with some wedges and curl my hair and throw a little makeup on. Aaron dressed in some nice dress pants and a cream colored button up, with the first but none done, which was unusual for Mr. boss man.

We walked to a cute little diner for something to eat, by the time I was finished getting ready it was already lunchtime. We ate and chatted about New York and what else we were going to do during our stay.

*tiny time skip*

We had just bought our tickets for the Phantom of the Opera, grabbed some drinks, and headed to our seats. The whole time I sat in complete awe, I was a total nerd for the show. Aaron kept staring at me, I could see from the corner of my eye. I whispered, “why do you keep looking at me?“

“I love you, and because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.“ He attempted to whisper back over the loud contents of the show in front of us.

“Shush! we are watching!“ Some random lady whisper-yelled at us, causing us to giggle and turn back to the performance. Aaron‘s hand made its way to my knee, slightly squeezing, earning a small smile from me. I leaned against the shoulder for the remainder. When it ended I cannot stop talking about how amazing life theater is, he would just check with my enthusiasm and let me continue on.

As we left the theater Aaron suggested we walk around Times Square and watch the lights. I agreed and we walked the block hand-in-hand. We arrive minutes later, the whole street not needing a single light, due to what seems like a 1000 billboards. We stood right in the middle, taking in the beauty around us. I got too caught up in the site that I turned away from Aaron. Basking in the smell of the city and the pictures that scattered the buildings. One billboard particularly caught my attention, for a second I thought my name popped up. Watching the same one to see if it happened again, a new message appeared reading, “Y/n Y/l/n, will you marry me?” confused, I turned around to see if Aaron was saying what I was seeing, but when I spun on my heel I was met with crowds of people surrounding us, filming us on their phones. I look down to see Aaron on one knee with a ring in between his fingers. “You have made me the happiest man on earth. You have made my life so amazing, from being a badass FBI agent, to a wonderful stepmom to Jack, and to being the most kind and selfless person I know. I can’t imagine my life without you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, will you do me the honor of marrying me?“ He stuttered.

Tears began to fill my eyes and spill out onto my cheeks, my first instinct was to lunch at him, causing his post to fall to the pavement giggling, “yes! Yes of course, I love you Aaron Hotchner.“ I wept. Allowed to hear from the people surrounding us, broke out, we got up and he put The beautiful diamond ring on my finger and we embraced in a loving case. There was no doubt our proposal would be all over the Internet, the team will find out soon but that didn’t matter at this moment. Only we did.

We slowly made our way back to our hotel, Aaron holding my hand and spinning me in circles, showing how happy we both were. We didn’t say much in the elevator, our smiles did most of the talking. As soon as the door opened to our floor, I gave him a mischievous smirk and began running to our room. “Come catch me!“ I yelled.

“Oh just you wait!“ Aaron laughed and followed right behind.

Right as we reached our door he swooped me up and spun me around, us in a giggling fit. He carefully placed me down and tilted my chin up for a kiss. Because it was innocent at first, but quickly turned needy. He pulled away, opening the door to reveal our room, dimly lit with candles scattered across the room. Rose petals let a small trail from the doorway to the bed. I guessed in all my heart swelling with love. I turn my fiancé, adoration in his eyes, healing down, taking my lips into a sweet kiss. His slightly chapped lips contrasted with my last ones. I wrapped my arms around his neck in an attempt to deep in the kiss. His hands slowly found their place at the small of my back, trailing down just a little bit to give my ass a squeeze.

His tongue swiped across my bottom lip, asking for insurance. Or tongue stance does the candles flickered across the room. I took in the moment, the roses, the candles, my man, and the way he tasted; like mint. I pulled back, glancing into his eyes, all while biting my lip.

He slowly let me backwards towards the bed, until my knees made contact and I fell back, him gently hovering over my small frame. One of his hands roamed up my thigh, to my hip, agonizingly slow between the valley of my breasts, and then gliding over my bottom lip. I think him down into a kiss, his hand found one of mine in and released our fingers as I opened my legs, welcoming him between them. I could feel his hard against my clothes core, bucking my hips up to him, I ground the sensation. He froze for a second instead up, still positioned between my thighs. He ended his button up throwing it somewhere in the dark corner. He ran his fingers along the hem of my dress, looking at me for permission, not going any further, “yes, take it off Aaron,“ need soaked in my voice.

He carefully lifted the red fabric up over my hips and head, discarding it into the blackness. As he started to kiss my neck, finding my sweet spot, I frantically reached for his belt and I’m doing the buckle and tugging his pants and underwear down. As I began to stroke him, he left marks across my chest and breast, a small groan from me. cool let me take care of my future wife,“ he whispered as he trail down my body kneeling at the edge of the bed. He peeled off my panties and one motion. He started to bite and suck on my inner thighs, causing me to whine. “I know baby, I can I’ll give you what you want,“ he smirked as he pulled me closer to him and put my legs over his broad shoulders. He placed a small kiss to my clit, leading to me putting my hands in his hair and slightly tugging. He moaned, sending vibrations to my whole body. He swiftly added two fingers in my wet cunt, pumping them and scissoring me open. He spit up a little, grazing my G spot, causing the coil in my stomach to tighten dangerously fast. I no longer held back my moans, nothing but my voice and what sounds filled the room. “Baby, I’m so close, I’m gonna c-“ I came crashing down with a loud cry. My leg started to shake as he rode me through my high.

Aaron came back up to meet my lips. I tried to flip him on his back so I could taste him, but he stopped me, “we have all the Time in the world for that my love. I want to be inside you.“ He said in his sultry voice. He situated himself between my legs once again, unclasping my bra and reconnecting our lips in a rough kiss. Our tongues fight for dominance.

I reached down and grabbed his cock, rubbing it against my wet slit, eliciting a moan from him. “Quit teasing Y/n”

I guided him to my entrance and he fully sheathed himself in my pussy. I have never felt as full as I do now. With only seconds to adjust, he started trusting, setting a slow bit rough pace. Each other’s names fell from our mouth, along with gas in months. As he thrusted harder, I rake my nails done his back, causing him to tense and speed up a little. I attacked his neck, sucking and biting along his jaw, allowing him to become more vocal, “I don’t think I’m going to last much longer sweetheart.”

“Me too,” I took out. His trust became erratic and fast, so I reached between us and toyed with my clit, chasing my orgasm. I came with a scream of his name, “Aaron!”

Seconds behind me, he released his load inside of me, struggling to catch his breath. He was about to pull out of me when I stopped him. “Can we just stay like this for a little while? I want to remember this, and today.”

He chucked, relaxing and laying his head against my chest. Not long after, we drifted to sleep. aim loving embrace of each other.

To think, soon i’d be “Mrs. Hotchner.”

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch smut #aaron hotcher smut #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #smut #fluff

159 notes · View notes