Tumgik
#original name and then makes it his own. something about taking the name you were given thats not really yours and MAKING it yours
in1-nutshell · 1 day
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Maxima meeting Team Bee
SFW, Platonic, Cybertronian reader
RiD 2015
Maxima was not having a good time.
She had been searching for Bumblebee non-stop after he went radio silent for the past couple of weeks.
Maxima had been looking all around, asking for favors, and taking long hours to find him.
Until she got a vision from her late father.
Optimus Prime.
She thought she had finally joined him in the Well because she felt her spark pulsing out of her chassis.
He looked just how he had when… when…
His booming voice reached her audials like a nostalgic song.
Her own voice constricted in her throat.
Optimus tells her to go to Earth to help Bumblebee and his team.
A portal opened in front of her.
Without a second thought, Maxima ran in.
She lands straight into a scrapyard.
Maxima carefully looks around the place for any sign of hostilities.
She finds her first one in the form of a giant green Dinobot.
Grimlock had just come over to this corner of the scrapyard to find something Sideswipe mentioned.
Which now thinking about, sounded made up.
He did notice the mysterious bot in the corner though.
Grimlock and Maxima stared at each other for a bit.
“Ummm… can I help you?”--Grimlock
Maxima shakes her helm a bit and points at her Autobot badge.
“Friendly.”--Maxima
Grimlock relaxes a bit seeing that it was a friendlier bot.
“And actually I could use some help.”--Maxima
“Oh okay! What do you need help with?”--Grimlock
“I’m looking for a friend of mine. I was told I could find him here.”--Maxima
Grimlock scratches his helm a bit.
“I don’t know too much about finding bots. BUT Fix-it might know! C’mon! I’ll even introduce you to the team!”--Grimlock
Maxima smiles at the infectious grin on the Dinobot.
“Lead the way… what’s your name?”--Maxima
“Grimlock! And yours?”--Grimlock
“Maxima.”--Maxima
“That’s a nice name.”--Grimlock
“So is yours.”--Maxima
The two talk and walk to what looked like the main area.
There were three bots and an orange minibot on a ship console that was partially buried in the mountain.
The three bots immediately pulled out their weapons seeing Maxima with Grimlock.
“Hey! Hey! She’s a bot like us!”--Grimlock
“And how do you know she isn’t just lying?”--Strongarm
Maxima squints her optics a bit at Strongarm.
“Now why do you look familiar…”--Maxima
Drift steps forward.
“What is your reason for being here?”--Drift
“Grimlock was taking me to see a ‘Fix-it’.”--Maxima
“That’s me!”—Fix-it
Maxima looks over at the orange minibot.
“And why would you need to see Fix-it?”--Sideswipe
“She’s looking for a friend, right?”--Grimlock
“Yeah—Wait! Your Strongarm aren’t you?”--Maxima
“How do you know my name?”--Strongarm
“Team, we have a situation—”--Bumblebee
Everyone looks at Bumblebee.
Bee looks optics with Maxima.
“Maxima?”--Bumblebee
Maxima gives a smile while walking over to him.
“So, this is where you’ve been?”--Maxima
“Yeah—”--Bumblebee
Maxima slaps the back of his helm.
“Hey!”--Bumblebee
“That’s for leaving without letting me know.”--Maxima
Maxima pulls him in a denting hug.
“Thank the Primes you’re okay…”--Maxima
Bee, feeling a bit guilty, hugs back.
“…When did we get a new bot?”--Russel
“Sweet Solus Prime Bee! You already got found by humans again?!”—Maxima
Maxima makes a quick first impression with everyone on the team.
She makes it clear to Bee that she isn’t going to leave him high and dry.
Bumblebee is glad to have an extra pair of servos helping around.
She becomes his unofficial, official second in Command of the Team.
If he is being honest, he was a bit afraid of Maxima taking the reigns of the team and leading.
Maybe she would have a better chance at leading like her father.
“All I’m saying is that you could definitely lead the team.”--Bumblebee
“Yeah, if I must. I wouldn’t want your job, Bee.”--Maxima
“But you’re a natural leader, just like Optimus was.”—Bumblebee
Maxima pauses for a split second before turning back to her work.
“A natural leader? Yeah, that’s just called ‘Survive long enough for the original leader to come back.’ Bee, do you not think your team would riot if you gave me the command?”--Maxima
“Well…”--Bumblebee
Maxima gives him a stern look.
“You’re a good leader Bee—”--Maxima
“But I’m not Optimus!”--Bumblebee
Both look at each other in silence.
“Maxima… I didn’t mean--”--Bumblebee
“Bumblebee. No one wants you to be Optimus. Not Strongarm, not Sideswipe, not Drift, not Grimlock, and defiantly not me. We want you. You and all of your flaws, terrible jokes and racing stripes.”--Maxima
Bee looks down a bit.
Maxima pats his shoulders in reassurance.
“…I miss him too; I miss him so much Bee. But right now, I think he’d want me to talk some sense into you. So here it is. The leader who you are now, that’s what this team needs. I’ll step in when its needed and give advice, but I’m not going to lead your team, got that Bee?”--Maxima
“Yeah… Thanks for talking sense into my processor.”—Bumblebee
Maxima flicks his door wings a bit.
“Someone has to. Consider it my job to look after your bumbling behind.”—Maxima
Bumblebee swats one of Maxima’s tires.
“Hey!”--Bumblebee
It was quick work to get along with most of Team Bee.
Maxima, Strongarm and Sideswipe made regular sparing partners.
Who knew that a monster truck could have agility?
Not them apparently.
Sideswipe is a bit let down that he can’t patrol with Maxima due to her alt mode drawing too much attention.
But off-road patrols are the best ones yet.
Maxima lets him do stuff on patrol that Bumblebee doesn’t let him.
Strongarm respects Maxima for being a former team member of the legendary Team Prime.
Though there was a time where her respect was more on a ‘tolerance level’ than genuine respect.
Strongarm did think that Maxima was a little bit like Sideswipe but didn’t really vocalize it too much.
That was until Sideswipe tried to take advantage of Maxima’s lax and got in trouble.
Maxima was the first on the scene.
Maxima and the team looking at Grimlock stuck in a rock arch.
Bumblebee and Maxima turn back to Sideswipe with, both with arms crossed.
“Sideswipe. What you did was reckless and endangered not only yourself, but also Grimlock.”--Bumblebee
“It was not my fault that Grimlock fell in the rock! If he’d—”--Sideswipe
“Grimlock was your partner for patrol today, Sideswipe. You both are supposed to have each other’s backs, not just one. If we wanted solo patrols, we would have authorized that. You put yourself and Grimlock in danger when you started blaring the music too loud and got ambushed. Which brings us here.”--Maxima
Grimlock was stuck in his Dinobot mode and stuck on a rock arch.
“It could be worse. Anyways Grims fine, aren’t ya!”--Sideswipe
Grimlock groans a bit.
“Yeah I’m fine… when did we get another Drift… and Strongarm…”--Grimlock
Maxima looks at him unamused and turns to Strongarm.
“Strongarm, take Sideswipe back to the scrapyard, I got Grimlock. We’ll be taking the scenic route to get back before the sun comes up.”--Maxima
“What!?”--Sideswipe
“What?”--Strongarm
“You heard Maxima.”--Bumblebee
“Maxima, with all due respect, how are you going to get Grimlock out by yourself? Let alone get him back home in one piece?”--Strongarm
Maxima walks over to the arch and punches the rock at an angle.
The rock crumbles releasing Grimlock with a small thud.
Everyone was stunned by this.
“H-how—”--Drift
Maxima throws Grimlock over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and starts the opposite path.
She stops momentarily and turns back slightly.
“You better have a good apology when you get back to the scrapyard Sideswipe because I can get pretty creative with enforcement when I want to.”
Maxima and Grimlock disappear from view.
“…”—Team Bee
Sideswipe looks at Bumblebee.
“Did you know she was that strong?”—Sideswipe
Bumblebee shrugs almost looking smug.
“She’s wrestled with Predacons bigger than Grimlock, Sideswipe. And she isn’t kidding about the ‘creative enforcements. Either.”--Bumblebee
Bumblebee transforms and drives out.
“That didn’t answer the question!”—Sideswipe
“Did he mention Predacons?”—Drift
“… Lets just get back home.”--Strongarm
 Strongarm defiantly looks at Maxima in a different light after that night.
She sees her as another mentor figure alongside Bumblebee.
Drift was a bit on edge with Maxima joining the team.
He did give the benefit of the doubt considering that Maxima was on Team Prime with Bumblebee during the war.
She couldn’t be bad if Bee tolerated her.
Drift truly began to open when his former master came back taunting him for his Decepticon past.
Maxima did not judge him or give him pity sympathy.
She earned some respect points from him that day.
The minis like to hang out with Maxima whenever they have a break.
She will come to the mini’s defense at any moment, something that he is grateful for.
Maxima shielding the mini’s with her frame from the Decepticon.
“Wrong move Con. Wrong move.”--Maxima
Maxima judo flips the Con and drop kicks him to Drift’s pedes knocked out.
“Where did you learn that kick?”--Drift
Maxima shrugged.
“Mulan.”--Maxima
“What’s Mulan.”--Drift
“…Russel! I have the perfect movie for tonight!”—Maxima
Grimlock liked Maxima from day 1.
She already seemed like a nice bot and boy was he right!
Of all the team, his favorite sparring partner was Maxima.
She could take in more hits and more time than most of the members of the team.
And did he mention how strong she was?
Sometimes Grimlock would start arm wrestling matches between the two of them on slower days in the scrapyard.
It was always fun to see how long each other would struggle to bring the other one down.
Bets have been made those days.
Bumblebee currently has the best luck in the betting pool for Maxima, which many don’t think its fair considering that he has known Maxima for longer, therefore, knows more about her than they do.
Drift and Sideswipe are tied at the bottom of the betting pool.
Grimlock also likes how Maxima refuses to hear the team treat him less.
That being said…
The team has learned that the duo sometimes cannot be left alone for too long.
“Hey, has anyone seen Maxima?”--Bumblebee
“Now that you’ve said it, I haven’t seen Grimlock either.”--Russel
“I’m sure they’re fine.”--Denny
BOOM!
Grimlock comes in running fast in.
“Coming through!”--Grimlock
Bumblebee quickly grabbed Denny and Russel and moved out of the Dinobot’s way.
“Grimlock!”--Bumblebee
“Sorry! Gotta catch this time!”--Grimlock
“Catch wh—”--Denny
Maxima comes descending from the sky.
Grimlock dives and manages to catch her in his arms.
“You finally caught me Grimmy!”--Maxima
Grimlock has a huge smile on his faceplate.
“Now its my turn!”--Grimlock
“Grimlock no!”—Bumblebee and Denny
“Grimlock yes!”—Maxima and Grimlock
Grimlock, with Maxima still in his arms, runs back the same way they came in.
Bumblebee sighs tiredly but lets out a soft smile.
“I’d just like to think what Optimus would say right now if he say her like this.”—Bumblebee
“Why Optimus exactly?”—Denny
“Oh yeah you two don’t know. Maxima is Optimus’s daughter.”—Bumblebee
“SHE’S WHAT!?”—Denny and Russel
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obsessedwithceleste · 3 months
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The Cat Chronicles
(Or five times Theodore Nott *accidentally* stole your cat)
Theodore Nott x reader
word count: 5.9k
©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.
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1
The first time your cat went missing, you didn’t think entirely too much of it. You knew many of the Hogwarts cats liked to gather behind the herbology greenhouse where a particularly plentiful patch of catnip grew. However, Gladys was never one to miss meal time, and when the time came to 30 minutes after her usual feeding time, you knew something was amiss. With a sigh, you made your way out to your common room where you saw Cho sitting by the fireplace with several other of your class mates.
“Has anyone seen Gladys wandering about? She missed feeding time and I haven’t seen her much today,” you say as you approach the group.
“I haven’t, sorry y/n. We’ll keep a look out for her though,” Cho tells you.
You let out a small sigh of disappointment.
“Thanks Cho,” you say before heading out to wander the halls of the castle, hoping to find your elusive, black cat.
You start out by the greenhouse where you see a whole gaggle of cats, but none with the sleek black coat that identified your furry friend. You then walked around the grounds a bit more with no luck, before moving on to the kitchens where several of the house elves promised to keep an eye out for the small black cat. You even checked several empty class rooms before coming to a stop outside the library. It wouldn’t hurt to check. Twenty minutes later, you were still completely out of luck. Tired and frustrated, you were about to call it a night when a loud chorus of voices turn down the hall. You look to see who it was and find a hoard of Slytherin boys making their way towards you. You recognized them of course, but didn’t exactly know them. What you did know however, was the mop of black fur one of the taller boys in the back of the group was holding.
“Gladys!” You exclaim, rushing towards the group of boys.
Their eyes all turn towards you and at the sound of her name, the fiesty black cat springs from the arms of the boy and runs towards you.
With a large grin of relief, you scoop the cat up into your arms, feeling her light purr as you scratch behind her ears. Feeling several pairs of eyes on you, you look up to see the group of boys still staring at you and your cat.
“Um, thanks, for finding my cat,” you say awkwardly, squeezing the cat to your chest lightly. The tall, brunette boy who had just been holding your cat only nods silently before turning and walking off, the rest of the group following, except one.
“Hey, sorry about Theo. He means well, really. Man really likes cats, but doesn’t have one of his own, so he sometimes makes friends with cats wandering the halls. We’ve all told him that he should probably stop, ah, borrowing, people’s cats, but he can’t seem to resist. Names Enzo by the way,” the boy says with a friendly smile, extending his hand out.
You take his hand, shaking it cautiously before a smile creeps it’s way onto your face.
“Thank you, Enzo.” You say, hesitating a moment before adding, “You know, Gladys is a picky bitch. Theo must be a pretty okay person if she let him carry her around.” You tell him before disappearing with your cat.
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2
The second time your cat went missing, you honestly didn't realize she was missing at all. Theo had found his way down to the kitchens about a week after the original cat incident. That's how he thought of it anyway. The kitchens were one of his favorite places to lurk as not many students knew of the secret entrance behind one particular painting of a fruit bowl. The real attraction that often drew the brunette boy to the hidden sanctuary however, was the constant stream of cats that often visited the house elves who happily offered up dishes of cream and other treats. Plopping himself down on the floor next to a particularly populated bowl of milk, Theo's eyes were immediately drawn to a familiar set of glowing yellow orbs.
"Hello there, Gladys," he said hesitantly, decently sure that was the name called out by the pretty Ravenclaw girl who had stolen the cat from him a few nights ago.
Well, stolen in this case was rather relative, as the cat was technically hers, he supposed. Hearing her name however, the little black cat pranced over, nuzzling her head affectionately against his leg with a soft purr. Picking the sweet creature up into his arms, Theo stroked her soft fur, thinking back to his encounter with her owner, a grimace reaching his face.
He had been a downright bloody idiot. That was for certain. Theo was not usually one to be rendered incompetent by the mere presence of a pretty girl. No. That was meant more for Enzo. Or even Draco sometimes. But never Theodore. In fact, Theo had quite the reputation for his tendency to sleep around which made the idea of his mind completely blanking at the sight of this cat's owner all the more embarrassing. Matteo had made fun of him ruthlessly later that night. What had he said again? Right. Absolutely nothing. Just nodded like a right dunce.
The only solace Theo had gotten from that night was when Enzo pulled him aside quietly and told him what the pretty girl from earlier had said about him. "He must be pretty okay." It was hardly a compliment, but after the fool he'd made of himself, it really was the best Theo could hope for. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Theo once again focused on the little beast snuggling contentedly in his arms, carefully scratching behind the ears, a spot he'd found the cat quite liked.
The sound of the entrance painting swinging open startled Theo; and he honestly wasn't sure if he was elated, or absolutely mortified that the very girl who had been previously plaguing his thoughts was stepping through into the kitchens.
You honestly weren't entirely surprised to see the boy from a few nights ago sitting on the floor, cradling your cat, when you entered the kitchens. After Enzo had admitted to you that the handsome brunette had a soft spot for the castle's feline population, you figured it was only a matter of time until you bumped into him here considering it was a hot spot for the four legged beasts.
"Hello. See you've managed to find my cat again," you say, offering a small smile to the boy in front of you. After your encounter with that particular group of Slytherins, you did a bit of asking around, finding that Theodore Nott, while a bit known for his escapades with the female population, was actually one of the more talented wizards of your year. And one of the more level headed. (But in comparison to Draco and Matteo, you weren't exactly sure how much credit to give him there.)
The boy blinks up at you once before seeming to find his voice.
"She's a sweet little thing," he says finally, clearing his throat and looking anywhere but you.
You cautiously move forward, more worried about spooking the boy in front of you than the cats. Sitting down, you allow a pretty little Siamese kitten to wander into your lap. Gladys hisses with jealousy, but remains snuggled in the arms of the boy.
"She really seems to like you. Bit surprising. She's really not much of a people person," you tell him.
Theo nods at you, an action you found yourself growing familiar with.
"Enzo told me." He replies curtly.
You open your mouth to respond, but don't quite know how, so you let an awkward silence roll over the two of you.
"Well, I find that Gladys is a very good judge of character," you say finally.
Theo lets out a small smile at this, continuing to stroke your cat's soft fur. After that, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence with Theodore continuing to shower your cat with affection while you distract the many other felines, crowding the kitchen floor.
"Theo?" you wonder finally, the question burning away at you. The boy looks up, and you find yourself getting lost in the surprisingly soft brown eyes staring back at you. Breaking from the trance with a small shiver, you ask, "If you like cats so much, why don't you have one of your own?"
Theo's eyes immediately fall, and his hand freezes mid pet, much to Gladys' dismay. A pang of guilt washes through you.
"My father isn't much of an animal person," He replies stiffly.
You give him a small nod in response before rising from the floor.
"It's getting pretty late, I should get going," you say softly. "Gladys can find her way back to the tower on her own just fine," you add when you see Theo make no move to release the cat.
Without another word, you move to open the portrait door. You enter the hall with a small smile gracing your lips as you hear his voice quietly as the door closes.
"Thank you, y/n."
He knew your name.
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3
The next time Theo met Gladys was much sooner than he expected. He had left the kitchens several hours ago and was now laying in bed. The clock sitting on his bed side now read 1am. The deafening silence was about to finally lull him to sleep when an insistent scratching at the door caused his eyes to fly open. Sitting up, Theo glanced at the door warily before finally deciding to cross the room to find out what was causing the noise.
As soon as the door opened, a black shadow darted through, making a beeline for his bed. How it seemed to know exactly where it was going, Theo had no clue. Making his way silently back to his bed, careful not to wake either of his roommates, Theo was finally able to make out the dark shape of an ever familiar black cat.
"Hi there, principessa," he whispered, gently stroking the cat's ears before crawling into the bed next to it. Gladys seemed to take this as an invitation to curl up in the nook of his arm, and Theo wasn't about to object. The last thought he remembered before drifting off was how nice it would be if Gladys' pretty owner was there too.
"Theo, what the fuck."
Theo woke with a start, to the loud voice of Lorenzo Berkshire ringing out above him. His eyes opened to see the other boy hovering over his bed, a look of shocked confusion apparent on his face.
"Is that y/n's cat?" he asks, leaning down as if to get a closer look at the fluff ball still snuggled in Theo's arms.
"No way," Matteo laughs from the other side of the room. "You stole her cat again? What, is this some sick and twisted new way for you to lure girls into your bed?"
Theo launches a pillow at Matteo's head. He doesn't miss.
"You better go return that thing before y/n starts to worry," Enzo advises, going back to his own side of the room. "And maybe just ask her out while you're at it hmm?" He adds, quickly ducking behind his fourposter before Theo has the chance to send another pillow flying his way.
With a heavy sigh, Theo comes to a stop outside of what he's pretty sure is the Ravenclaw common room. He's about to raise his hand to knock, when the golden eagle head mounted to the door springs to life.
"What gets broken, without being held?" The eagle asks, blinking at him slowly.
Right. Theo knew about this. The most annoying of the common room doors because instead of a password, the bloody door required you to answer a riddle. Theo was about to turn on his heel to leave when he felt a light presence behind him.
"Hello Theo. Hello Gladys." The platinum blonde haired girl said, giving the two of them an airy nod, before turning her attention to the door. "Would it perhaps be, a promise?" she asks.
The door swings open and Theo quickly hurries after the girl, making his way up the staircase. He'd never actually been inside the Ravenclaw common room, and his breath hitched when they reached the top of the stairs. The main room really was magnificent, nothing like the dark, eerie dungeons of the Slytherin common room. Theo eyed the shelves of books lining the wall longingly.
"Her room is just there, up and to the left," the blonde girl he'd followed in says, breaking him from his thoughts.
"Huh?"
"Y/n? Her room is just there," the girl repeats, gesturing to a door at the top of another small flight of stairs.
"Oh. thanks," Theo makes out, giving the girl a nod of gratitude.
"Name's Luna by the way. Luna Lovegood." She says whimsically before floating off.
With a deep inhale to calm his nerves, Theo makes his way up the stairs and knocks gently on the door. Gladys lets out a meow of protest. Absolutely nothing could have prepared Theo for what was on the other side of the door. He felt his throat go completely dry as the door swung open and you stood in front of him in what was probably the shortest, skimpiest set of clothing that could possibly be considered pajamas. Theo tried not to stare, he really did, but he was only a man. A very weak and smitten man.
"Oh! There you are Gladys. I wondered where you wandered off to last night!" you say looking at your cat and then back up at Theo, and then again at your cat before looking back up at Theo expectantly. "Um. May I have my cat back?"
Theo jolts back to life, realizing he'd been staring and looks at you sheepishly.
"Sorry, don't know how this little one found me. Snuck her way into the Slytherin common room and then into my dorm. Didn't want to leave her in the halls alone, so I let her stay the night," he tells you.
You stare at the boy in shock, realizing that was the longest string of words you'd ever heard out of him.
"Wow Theodore, I'm impressed. I think that's the most I've ever heard you talk. And here I was thinking you were secretly illiterate," you say with a playful grin.
"Please," the boy scoffs. "I'm the picture of eloquence."
Interested in where this sudden burst of confidence that you didn't normally see from him had come from, you take a step back, inviting him into your room. He hesitantly accepts your invitation, bringing Gladys along with him.
"No roommates?" he asks, perching on the edge of your bed as Gladys purrs softly on his lap. At the moment, you found nothing more attractive than this man absolutely pampering your beloved pet.
"Not many Ravenclaw girls in our year, we had the option to share, but most of us opted for solo rooms. Wanted the extra privacy, I suppose," you tell him, leaning on one of the posts at the end of your bed.
Theo nods his head at this.
"I have two roommates," he shares.
"One of them happen to be Enzo Berkshire?"
Theo nods again. "And Matteo. Riddle" he adds.
You cock your head at that with a grin.
"Interesting pairing," you comment, imagining the chaos those two must bring with them.
"It never gets boring," Theo responds.
A moment of silence passes.
"I was wondering if you wanted to study together sometime. I hear you're exceptionally talented at potions. And Charms. And everything really." Theo lets out finally.
You raise an eyebrow at the boy, internally screaming.
Trying to keep your cool, you tilt your head, "I hear you are too."
It's like a switch flips inside Theo.
"Well, we're obviously perfect for each other than," He replies easily, a cocky grin beginning to spread across his face. "Meet you in the library tomorrow at 7? And bring the cat."
You let out a laugh as Theo rises from the bed, gently placing Gladys down on the pillow, before going to make his way out of your dorm.
"You only like me for my cat," you joke, shifting to watch as he crosses the room to the door.
"Not just for your cat," he assures you, "I love the outfit, wear it for me more often, hmm?" he says slyly before the door thuds shut behind him.
You look down at your outfit, jaw dropping open and heat rushing to your cheeks.
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4
Theo's head was pounding. Music pumped through the Slytherin common room and Theo could barely see through the crowds of people around him as he pushed his way to the circle of sofas occupied by his friends. Collapsing into a spot next to Matteo, the boy offered him another shot of who-knew-what which he quickly knocked back.
"When's that pretty little thing that's been occupying all your time gonna join us at one of our little gathering?" Matteo slurs out, gesturing to the large crowd around them.
Over the past several weeks, you and Theo had grown significantly closer; your first study date quickly becoming a daily occurrence as you found that you each were able to easily keep up with one another. Something about having a partner who was actually able to challenge you was exhilarating. From there, you found yourselves often seeking each other out simply for the sake of good company, Gladys largely increasing the number of these meetings.
"Don't know that Gladys would like it. Cat's aren't supposed to ingest alcohol," Theo responded, not quite drunk enough to fall for his friend's taunting.
Enzo places another shot in his hand, and Theo raises a brow at him, before knocking that one back as well.
"Did you ever ask y/n why in Salazar's name, she choose to name her cat Gladys?" Matteo asks. "If my name were Gladys, I'd being running off constantly too."
Theo thumps Matteo on the back of the head.
"You leave our cat out of this, she ain't do nothin wrong," he says, glaring at his friend.
"So now she's our cat is she?" Enzo asks, a smirk growing on his face. "Didn't know you and y/n were so serious."
"It's our cat damnit! If marrying y/n is what it takes to finally have a cat of my own, so be it," Theo says decidedly.
Enzo snorts at his clearly, very drunk friend. "Careful, or one might think you're only into her for her cat. And not the cunty kind."
Theo scowls at this. "Y/n says that all the time, but have you seen that ass? And the way she mopped the floor with Draco in potions the other day? She's perfect."
"Yeah? Why don't you go tell her that then?" Matteo says, wanting nothing more than to see a drunk Theo try to make his way to Ravenclaw Tower.
"You know what? I will. And I'll pet Gladys too." Theo states. A look of pure, intoxicated determination set on his face.
Lorenzo eyes his friend warily. While not exactly sober himself, he didn’t particularly like the look his friend was giving them.
“Aw c’mon Enz, don’t you try and be the voice of reason now,” Matteo drawls, sensing the hesitation coming from his friend. “Don’t you want to meet the lil thing our beloved Theodore has been obsessing over for weeks now?”
“I’m not obsessing,” Theo snaps, taking a sip straight out of a random bottle he’d picked up from the table.
“Let’s go. I’m gonna steal her cat. For real this time.”
With a wide grin, Matteo jumps up, ready to follow his friend wherever the night took him. With a low groan, Enzo followed suit, knowing that his pair of roommates would need some sort of guidance to prevent them from walking themselves straight of the edge of the astronomy tower.
You didn’t have a lot of expectations for the quiet Friday night that you were spending curled up with a book and your cat. It was late, and after a long and stressful week, the time alone with Gladys was just what you needed to really recharge. You had spent most of your day lounging out on the lawn next to the Black Lake with Theodore, studying with and harassing the boy. A small smile crept onto your face, remembering the way his brown curls had floated about in the soft breeze.
You really hadn’t expected for the two of you to become so close, so quickly, but you weren’t complaining. You’d grown quite fond of the boy, especially once he started opening up a bit more. You’d initially thought that he was a man of very few words, but quickly learned he was in fact very sharp witted and even a bit snarky at times. Time spent with him had easily become your favorite part of the day and was something you were constantly looking forward to.
A sharp knock jolted you from your thoughts, causing you to jump a bit where you were sitting, Gladys letting out a yowl of protest.
You quickly cross the room and open the door to find a very miffed looking Cho, a frown imbedded on her face.
“Sorry to bother, but could you please come get your boy under control? He’s upsetting the portraits.” She says.
You blink once. Then again.
“Sorry?”
“Your Slytherin fellow? He’s out in the corridor with two of his friends harassing the door,” she explains, turning to lead you down the spiral staircase.
You’re not even halfway down when you begin to hear the voices.
“Who in the bloody hell would want to be in Ravenclaw with this blast-ended skewt ass looking-“
“Matteo you can’t curse out the door.”
“I’ll curse at the bloody door if I want to bloody curse at it.”
You grimace, looking at Cho who looks back with a similarly displeased facial expression.
“Sorry bout them. I’ll take it from here,” you tell her when you reach the bottom.
With a slight nod, she turns to retreat back up the stairs. With a sigh, you push the door open, almost taking out Matteo who had been leaning on it for support.
“Hi amore, fancy seeing you here,” Theo slurs, a grin taking over his face at the sight of you.
Enzo leans against a pillar, face in hands, looking like he wanted to disappear. You could smell the alcohol on all of them.
“Hi Theodore. Are you sober?” You ask, already knowing the answer.
“I’m moderately functional,” he replies with a lopsided smile.
“I’m taking that as a no,” you say, glancing worriedly at Matteo who was currently laying spread eagle on the floor. “Let’s get you boys back to your common room.”
“I wouldn’t. Party’s not gonna end any time soon. They’ll just get more hammered and start wandering off again,” Enzo advises, head still in hands. “Like herding hippogriffs with those two.”
“And Theo hasn’t proclaimed his undying love for y/n yet!” Matteo adds.
You feel heat rise to your cheeks and Theo glowers at his friend.
“It’s okay Theo, I know he’s drunk,” you say, not certain if you were saying it more to comfort him or yourself.
Theo ignores you however, turning his attention back to the door.
“Let us in, I just want to pet the cat,” he tells the door, swaying ever so slightly.
For Salazar’s sake. Man gets absolutely wasted and just wants to pet your cat. You go to grab onto Theo to steady him, but he has other plans. Immediately, he wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair.
“Hi,” he mumbles, picking you up just enough that your toes barely touch the ground. “I missed you. Can we see the cat now?”
Not knowing what else to do, you glance helplessly at Enzo.
“Would you be able to get Matteo up the stairs?” You ask.
“I can try. He’s a stubborn bastard though.”
You turn back to the door, knocking once. The eagle once again moves to life, glaring at the scene in front of it.
“If the day before yesterday was the 23rd, what is the day after tomorrow?” It asks crankily.
“We’re too fucking wasted for this bloody bullshit,” Matteo moans from the floor.
You try to ignore Theo’s tight grasp on your waist and Enzo prodding at Matteo with his foot before answering. “The 27th.”
The door swings open and you try your best to haul Theo through, Enzo following closely behind with a very disgruntled Matteo. Dragging the boys up the staircase feels like the most difficult task of your life as you constantly tell Matteo to lower his voice and mind his mouth while also trying to ignore the very minimal distance between yourself and Theodore. When you finally make it to the top, you rush to herd the boys into your room before slamming the door shut behind you with relief. Theo immediately stumbles over to your bed, collapsing face first in the middle and snatching Gladys into his arms.
“No roommates?” Enzo asks, looking around the room and seeing the single empty bed that you had pushed into the corner at the beginning of the year.
“No, thank Rowena. I would not want to have to explain whatever this is.” You reply, motioning to Theo and Matteo who was now wandering about the room.
“Room’s a mess. Coulda at least cleaned up a bit,” he says, poking at the various books and blank scrolls lying about.
“Had I known I would be having guests at,” you glance at the clock, “almost 2 in the morning, I’m sure I would have.” You say dryly.
Retrieving your wand from your desk, you point it at the spare bed. “Engorgio.” The wooden frame creaks as it expands until it can comfortably fit 2 people. You look at Enzo.
“Good luck with that one,” you say, almost feeling sorry for the boy as Matteo flops onto the bed with a groan.
“Looks like you’re gonna need it more than me,” he replies, gesturing to Theo who was out cold, Gladys trapped and bug eyed in his grasp. With a sigh you and Enzo each resign yourselves to your respective charge.
“Theodore,” you whisper, giving the boy a light shove. No sign of life. You give him a slightly harder shove, allowing Gladys is wriggle out of her prison. Frowning, you sit down on the edge of the bed, using most of your body weight to shove Theo to one side of the bed before sliding under the covers. Now deeming it safe, Gladys hops back into the bed, nestling into your arms happily. You’re about to close your eyes when you feel arms snaking around your waste, pulling you into the very warm chest of Theodore Nott. You freeze, holding your breath, not sure if the boy is asleep or not.
“Goodnight mi amore,” he whispers into your neck, causing the hairs to prickle.
Definitely not asleep.
“Goodnight Theodore.”
You hadn’t had any expectations for the night really, but you definitely had not expected to have multiple overnight guests who were trying to steal your cat. And you most certainly did not expect to drift off in the arms of Theodore Nott.
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5
The next morning you wake up missing the usual lump of fur weighing down on your chest. Immediately you bolt upright, eyes shooting around for any sign of your furry companion before the events of last night wash over you. Enzo and Matteo are both still out cold and when you look down, your jaw drops open. Theo is fast asleep, back facing you, Gladys snoozing contentedly while cradled in his arms. Even in his sleep this absolute tosser had managed to steal your damn cat.
Careful not to wake the boys, or Gladys, you silently sneak across the room and disappear out the door. Once you’re safely out of hearing distance, you make your way quickly down the kitchens. A little known fact about the Hogwarts house elves was that many had once served in the homes of different wizarding families at one time or another. This meant that many of the elves were all too familiar with the valuable hangover potion that you sought.
Ducking in through the portrait hole, it wasn’t difficult to persuade the elves into handing over 3 glistening blue vials. You had always been kind to them, often chatting with them during your visits with the cats.
Your task complete, you made your way back to Ravenclaw tower, taking your time as you didn’t expect the boys to be up any time soon. They really had been plastered. Not even Enzo had been completely sober you recalled.
You’re just passing the entrance to the dungeons when a voice calls out.
“Hey! You!”
You’re ready to continue on your way before noticing that there was no one else in the corridor they could be referring to. You turn to see two girls you recognized as the Greengrass sisters hurrying towards you.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” the shorter blonde girl says when they get closer. You’re pretty sure that one is Astoria. “You’re the girl Theo has been seeing right?”
You nod your head cautiously. You knew Theo had a reputation for getting around, so if that’s what this was about, things were about to become quite awkward.
“You haven’t happened to see him or Matteo or Lorenzo, have you?” The other girl, Daphne, asks.
“Draco said he saw the three of them leave the party together last night, but no one saw them come back,” Astoria explains.
You feel yourself immediately relax. Good. At least this was something you could help with.
“You two are lucky you found me then I suppose,” you tell them, gesturing for them to follow. “The three of them tried breaking into Ravenclaw tower last night, so I let them crash in my dorm.”
“Oh Salazar. Were they trying to steal your cat? I’m so sorry. When Matteo gets drunk he has a tendency to try and egg Theo on,” Astoria frets.
You give the girls a strange look. “You know about my cat?” You ask, surprised.
“Oh sure,” Daphne replies. “Whole group does really. Boys came back one night going on about how Theo was just smitten with some Ravenclaw with a cute cat. And I can see why. You’re gorgeous by the way.”
You blush at her statement, diverting the subject away.
“The boys should probably still be asleep. I just ran down to the kitchens to get these,” you tell them, brandishing the potions you had gathered. “Once they’ve downed these, they’re all yours.”
Astoria eyes the potions with jealousy and you realize the two girls were probably decently hung over as well.
“Oh you can keep Theo, we were really just looking to collect Enzo and Matt,” Daphne laughs, giving you a sly look. You open your mouth to reply, but stop realizing you had reached your common room door.
After a few attempts, you’re finally able to solve the blasted riddle and the door swings open.
“I don’t think we’ve ever had this many Slytherins in our common room before,” you joke, leading the girls up to your room.
Pushing the door open, you’re unsurprised to see the boys still passed out.
“This must be the infamous Gladys,” Daphne whispers, quietly approaching Theo who was still clutching onto Gladys as if his life depended on it. Again you’re surprised that these girls apparently even knew the name of your cat.
The two coo at the sight of your cat, coming to the conclusion that she was indeed worthy of warranting cat theft before Astoria finally decided it was time for them to get the boys out of your hair. They migrated over to the other side of the room where Enzo and Matteo were sound asleep, leaving you to deal with Theo.
You decide the easiest route, may just be to lure Gladys away, so you fetch her food dish before accio-ing her kibble container. At the sound of her food, Gladys was up and running, darting over for her morning feast. At the sudden loss of fluffy heat, Theo groaned, rolling over, face down into the pillows. After giving Gladys her food, you move back to Theo, giving him a rough shake.
“Come back to bed principessa,” he grumbles, reaching out and flailing his arm in your general direction.
“It’s time to get up Theodore. Come on, I got you three hangover potions,” you say, waving one over his head.
“Did someone say hangover potion? Give,” Matteo demands from the other side of the room. You look over to see Daphne and Astoria sitting on the side of the bed while Matteo and Enzo were groggily waking up.
Pulling out her wand, Daphne gestured for you to toss her the potions which her magic catches easily, levitating the vials over to the other two boys. Matteo snatches one out of the air, quickly downing half before offering the other half to Astoria. Enzo does the same, giving the second half to Daphne who graciously accepts. After a moment, the four of them are looking much more awake.
“Thanks for making sure these three didn’t drown themselves in the lake,” Astoria says, once the potion had really kicked. “And sorry you’re not having more luck with that one. He’s always been a late riser.”
“You’ll be lucky to get him up in the next hour,” Enzo agrees, rising from the bed. “Thanks again y/n.”
The four of them shuffle out of your dorm, a chorus is thanks and apologies strung along until they reached the door. Even Matteo gave you a nod of gratitude. Once they were all gone, you collapse once more onto your bed.
“They finally gone?” You hear Theo ask, as he rolls over to look at you. You nod, faces so close that your noses are practically touching and you can feel small puffs of air as he exhales. “Thanks for last night. I’m sorry for trying to steal your cat.”
You let out a snort at that. “Did you know when I woke up this morning, you had turned away from me completely, and stolen my cat away from me in your sleep?” You ask with a laugh.
Theo at least has the decency to look embarrassed as Gladys joins the two of you once more.
“I should do this more often,” Theo says finally, reaching out to stroke Gladys’s fur.
“What? Get downright plastered and break into my room, or steal my cat?” You scoff.
“Sleep in your bed with you.”
You freeze, looking up to see if the boy was being serious. His eyes blink back at you unwavering.
“You can come back any time,” you tell him, snuggling your way into his chest, ready to fall back asleep in the boy’s arms.
“Will Gladys be here?”
“Oh my god, yes she will be here,” you say dramatically throwing your head back.
Theo grins down at you, leaning in and pressing his lips softly against yours.
“I’m only joking amore,” he says, pressing another kiss to the top of your nose.
“Of course Gladys would be here, she adores me.”
“Get out of my bed.”
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A/N
My biggest regret in life, is being highly allergic to cats </3
3K notes · View notes
fangswbenefits · 2 months
Text
Comfortable
Summary: Astarion walks in on you in a rather compromising situation. Naturally, he offers to help, but then you ask him to promise you something that he was not expecting…
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Fluff. Aftercare. Oral sex. Pillow humping. Innuendo. Mentions of masturbation.
Word count: 3.3k
It's a wavering sequence of whimpers that catches Astarion's attention just as he arrives at camp after a late night hunt.
The blood on non thinking creatures seldom presents itself as a decent meal, but he finds it unfair to depend exclusively on you.
The boars in the outskirts of Baldur's Gate are delectable enough to blind his hunger for a few hours – maybe a full day, if need be.
The camp seems peaceful and quiet with everyone still catching some rest after in their respective tents, and as the pale moon glows up high in the dark blue sky, he notices the dawn isn't breaking for at least a few more hours.
Maybe he can indulge in a trance to ease his mind and body after feeding, even though it's not a dire necessity.
But it seems that the night has other plans reserved for him.
His steps are light and sure, following the crescendo of sounds that seems to come from near his tent.
He would recognise that voice anywhere.
You.
As he draws near, trying to make out the origin of said whimpers, he vaguely wonders if you're having a dream.
That is the most reasonable explanation.
But then he hears what resembles a muffled groan.
A nightmare?
Instinctively, an eyebrow quirks as he approaches your tent.
And then he freezes.
Even through the obvious failed attempt at reining yourself in, he knows exactly what he heard.
His name. Muffled and barely intelligible, but his name, nonetheless.
An amused smile tugs at his lips as it dawns on him that you are indeed pleasuring yourself. Risky and unexpected, but beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Cheeky…
He could simply entertain this, and leave it to you to reach your peak on your own.
Unfortunately for him, he has just fed.
And unfortunately for you, he has every intention of interrupting your solo endeavour.
His usual cool body now flooded with the warmth and vigour that make it extremely easy not to succumb to your sweet and melodic whimpers.
As such, he tugs at the strings that hold both flaps together, successfully drawing a surprised gasp from you.
“You scared me!” 
He finds you propped up on one elbow before rushing to sit and pulling a blanket to cover yourself, a mortified look splattered across your face.
The sight in front of him is enough for the recently drunk blood to rush downwards at record speed. 
Predictable, but such is the nature of his body when it comes to you.
Flustered and quickened breaths. His senses are so sharp from the recent blood intake, that he can hear your heartbeat drumming fast in your chest.
By now, he knows you well enough.
So well, that he's sure he has just interrupted your climax.
The confirmation comes in the form of a low growl of frustration.
He almost feels sorry for you, but what crosses his mind is the offer of a moment of pleasure so great only he can provide.
“You were close.”
It isn't a question and he doesn't expect an answer.
But you're so visibly irritated that you scowl deeply. “Yes! Yes, I was. Thank you so much for interrupting.”
“My pleasure,” he retorts, knowing fully well he's about to set off a bomb if he doesn't choose his words carefully.
You have a temper he adores to test. He's used to dancing to your tune and knows exactly which strings to pull to get you riled up in ways that often lead to very enjoyable outcomes.
His cock welcomes your huff of annoyance with a faint twitch.
“Why didn’t you just… wait…” you almost cry out in sheer frustration.
He lets out a taunting laugh. “What, and miss out on all of the fun, darling?”
A dramatic pout settles your lips and it takes all of his self-control not to wipe it off your face with a kiss in an instant.
“How many did you take this time?”
It is a glaring taunt.
And your mouth drops open.
Maybe he should have eased his way in, considering the current predicament.
But the way your body is all flustered and heated from your own touch is enough to flare desire inside him. And whenever desire begins to swell inside him, the fine line between reason and pleasure begins to blur. 
Mostly because he knows he was the one on your mind when you had your fingers deep inside you.
Your eyes widen slowly, and you clutch the blanket closer to your lower half, still hiding the proof of your arousal from his prying eyes.
You don't reply at first, your pride keeping you silent.
But Astarion doesn't mind. In fact, he enjoys your resistance at first. Makes it all the more enjoyable when you finally give in.
“How many, darling?”
You frown, averting your eyes.
So stubborn…
His cock adores it.
“How many?” his tone is firmer this time and you slowly meet his eyes again.
“... two.”
He clicks his tongue, crouching before you. “Oh, darling…” 
Two fingers are not nearly enough to provide the fullness and stretch that only his cock can. But he appreciates your effort nonetheless.
It's quite adorable and enough to have his cock hardening even more.
Your fingers still glisten in the faint candlelight and he feels the sudden urge to have them in his mouth. He never tires of tasting you in more ways than one.
“You do not need to hide from me,” he says tenderly, but still not moving an inch. He wants you to feel comfortable enough under his gaze. “You've bared yourself to me many times, love.”
Still, you don't let go of the fabric, a slash of defiance crossing your face. “You took too long.”
Ah. “Did you miss me?”
You bite your lip, face softening as you nod twice.
And you were so desperate for him that you just couldn't wait?
Gods.
His cock stirs even more against his trousers at the silent realisation.
“And I am here now,” he says, dropping to his knees, as a wicked smile turns his lips. “So, allow me.”
He reaches out with his hand to tug at the fabric, silently looking for your permission.
A shaky sigh parts your lips and he spots a shiver as he pulls the blanket that keeps you from him.
His eyes drop to the sweet spot between your legs and he almost regrets having interrupted you.
Almost.
Your clit is so swollen it deliciously peeks from between your folds, parting them gently. It throbs faintly as he catches your clenching a few times, wetness dripping out.
After a moment, he manages to tear his gaze away, ignoring the twitches of protest from his cock.
He finds your half-hooded eyes. “May I?”
You hesitate at first, nearly pressing your thighs together, but he stops you with both hands on your knees, a reassuring grip that has you slowly but surely loosen up under his touch.
“You don't have to…”
No, he doesn't.
But he wants to.
In fact, he thinks he needs to.
He rubs circles along your flushed skin, wanting your full attention on him before he speaks, “I appreciate the concern, darling, but I'm impossibly hard and you look incredibly delectable.”
It's more than enough to have you yearning for more, as a surprise gasp parts your lips.
You finally nod, spreading your legs and leaning back as you settle on your elbows.
He offers a sly grin, lowering and positioning himself right where he craves to be.
But not before he eases some of the growing tension on his lower half. The blood coursing through his body is more of an inconvenience for now, and he's sure, under different circumstances, he'd have better control over this.
Or maybe not.
Maybe you're just that good for him.
You jerk slightly when his mouth draws near your slick folds.
“Wait.”
And he does, his concentration slightly shaken as he promptly scans your face for any cause for alarm.
“Just… don't leave afterwards.”
Don't leave–
Astarion's lips are so close to your clit, he has to pull back slightly so he can have a proper look at you, his hardened cock still straining against his undergarments.
“What do you mean?” he asks, perplexed. 
There is hesitance in your eyes. “You tend to leave after… like you don't want to be here with me.”
That sounds like a whiplash to him, because it is not true at all.
Your words take him by surprise  and he immediately worries he may have said or done something that could be interpreted as mixed signals.
“Darling, I–”
But you immediately shake your head. “If you can stay after… I'd appreciate it. Only you want to, of course,” you quickly add. “It doesn't feel right otherwise…”
It isn't a request. Nor a plea.
It's just what feels right.
He's done this many times to the point of instinct. It comes natural to him to please others. The aftermath, though, is something that he's also used to forgoing. The mess, the sweat, the fluids… the unnecessary and forced talk…
But you are different, aren't you?
You are not… the others.
And after all you've been through, he feels his mind nearly snap in half as he realises just how much he's still holding back with you.
Even something as simple as just staying still felt… tainted.
Slowly, he nods. 
And slowly, your lips turn into a tender smile that he's grown to adore beyond comprehension.
“I'll stay.”
You heave a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
Astarion counters the impromptu detour with unmatched expertise, lowering his head and admiring just how eager your body is for him.
Before he drags his tongue along your folds, he slithers his hand down to reach for the front of his trousers, hurriedly undoing them.
It's his turn to sigh in relief as his cock is set free.
But now he misses the friction and the carpeted floor of your tent feels too rough.
His eyes roam around in search of something – anything – more comfortable.
And then he's caught off guard by your offer.
“Maybe this will help.”
A pillow.
He chuckles deviously, appreciating your creativity in moments such as these. Promptly, he takes it in his hand and positions it under him, his cock welcoming the soft surface.
“I adore that mind of yours,” he says cheekily.
You are about to voice a reply, but no word comes out when his tongue hits your entrance. 
Immediately, your hips buck and his smile never wavers.
He knows what you crave, but he will take his time even if you're already close to the edge.
After all, he's addicted to his devotion to you even if he never utters it out loud. He prefers his actions speak for themselves. Words are treacherous and deceiving. Actions speak louder.
And so he indulges in you. He indulges you, because that is what keeps him from reaching the frayed ends of his mind. 
You're what grounds him these days.
And he will ground you with him.
As such, he drags the tip along your folds, collecting your wetness and he only stops once it finds your clit.
A soft moan escapes your lips and he hopes you have it in you to keep it down so as to not wake the others. 
He locks eyes with you one last time. “Are you ready, darling?”
Your hips roll twice, but he knows you're not ready. You never are for the pleasure he offers to you so passionately. 
Another roll and he knows you're growing impatient, so he gives your clit a quick swipe of his tongue before he latches.
He doesn't begin suckling hard right away, as he needs to ensure he can steady you for what's to come. Both arms loop around your thighs and he allows his eyes to flutter shut, losing himself in you.
It amazes him how your body responds to him, and your hips try to find a desperate rhythm as if you're riding his cock.
The pillow under him provides enough friction for him to roll his own hips, eager to match your tempo.
He could feel the wetness drenching the fabric, but he can't bring himself to care.
Your hand finds his curls and he growls against your clit as you tug gently, but evidently craving more.
And more he gives you.
He's sucking more fiercely this time, taking his time to savour the swell in between his teeth. From this angle, he can feel your wetness coating his chin. He can't directly feel it, but he just knows you're clenching desperately around nothing.
Maybe he should take it slower.
Maybe he should pry you open with two of his fingers, even though you're wet enough to take a third one.
But the unexpected friction caused by the pillow is begging to edge him beyond belief.
Is it from the blood he drank? Is he just so ridiculously aroused? Why is your clit so swollen this time? Is it from his incessant suckles? 
His mind turns into haze and he decides he's not looking for any logical answers.
He simply allows his hips to move on their own accord, matching the face with each suckle.
“Astarion… Gods…” 
You're fortunate his mouth is kept busy, or he'd hurl a snarky reply. Gods have no place here. The delicacies of carnal bliss are reserved for those who tread the earth.
He's the only one who'd ever worship you, and you'd worship him right back, because that's how it's meant to be.
Precum drips from his tip at an alarming rate. He's too hard. He's too aroused. His body is seeking to be inside yours.
But he decided against it.
No.
He wants to see you unravel for him and in front of him.
His eyes open once again and he takes in the sight of your body undulating. Skin all flushed and eyes read to drop close as you near the precipice.
As always, his latch is impeccable. He never lets go and takes pride in leaving you dripping for him.
A few droplets run down his chin and dangle from it, bestowing upon him the most enticing silent praise he could ask for.
He knows you're close when your fingers close around his curls, desperately rocking your hips against him.
A low growl of approval rumbles in his chest and he's starting to struggle to keep his pace.
He has to find a way to still his hips before you reach your climax in fear you'll drag him along with you far too soon.
And so he does.
This time, he wants to see it.
He wants to see you as you come for him.
He's mostly perplexed that you found a way to muffle your moans, your shirt rolled up and captured in between your teeth, granting him the privileged view of your heaving breasts and hardened nipples.
Momentarily, his hips threaten to buck driven by pure instinct.
But he manages to hold back.
And when he's sure you're too far gone, head tilting back and legs shaking ever so slightly, does he unlatch from your clit.
He pulls back enough to witness the first sets of contractions course through your body. 
Wetness drips from his chin, and he can't tear his gaze from the mesmerising way your entrance clenches rhythmically before him.
He's felt those contractions many times. He is well aware of just how vicious and relentless they can be around his cock, never failing to draw every last drop of his cum deep inside you.
Your muffled cries and the way your hips still momentarily, are all he needs to get lost in his own pleasure again.
He props himself high enough to place his hips at the right angle, rolling them urgently against the soft fabric of the pillow.
He's so close… so deliciously close.
Your taste lingers on his tongue and the vision of you still writhing under him holds his gaze almost painfully.
Your fingers ease on his curls and he feels the familiar tightening of his balls warning him that he's about to reach the point of no return. 
It comes and overtakes his body so violently his mind blanks for a brief moment, as his mouth drops open.
He wants to groan and growl and hiss, but no sound comes out.
The friction is so overwhelming, he can't help but to lose balance, his lips finding your swollen clit once again.
And just like before, he latches instinctively and you try to jerk away from him, definitely being hit with a sting of oversensitivity. 
He comes undone, suckling on you harder than ever before.
Ropes of cum spill from him rhythmically, his own contractions taking over. He can feel the fabric underneath him drench with each thrust, and he vaguely wonders how much of it he still has left in him.
Your clit is now the only thing grounding him as he rides out his climax and, in the far corner of his hazy mind, he's thankful that you eased into him once again, granting him the solace he is seeking so desperately.
There's only so much he can withstand as his senses are flooded with overwhelming pleasure, and he finds himself unlatching and almost slumping against your lower abdomen.
He's spent.
Utterly spent.
He thinks he hears a tender giggle, but maybe it's simply his mind playing tricks on him.
With effort, he hoists himself along your body, collapsing, the side of his face resting against your stomach.
He wants to say something, but he's rendered silent by the aftershock of his climax.
And that's when he feels your fingers again, raking along his scalp and through unruly curls. 
“Are you leaving?”
He says nothing.
Your fingertips work their magic along his skin and he's sure you can lull him into a trance if you so wished. 
You're too powerful and he's too in love with you to care.
“Astarion.”
Your voice is low and sweet and he hums in return, arm wrapped around your waist.
“Can we stay like this for a while?”
Who's he to deny you of it? Or himself?
He's sweaty and his cock drenched in cum and precum and you're a mess yourself. Hardly the epitome of romance.
Or maybe he's wrong because when you bring a soft piece of cloth to his temple and drag it along his face, he suddenly gets it.
He finally understands why you want him to stay.
Why it makes sense.
His eyes flutter shut as he basks in your tenderness and adoration. 
You hum a soft tune under your breath, cleaning him up.
Face and neck first.
“Can you shift higher?” you ask.
He realises your intentions and lifts his head to stare at you.
“You don't have to.”
All you do is offer him a smile. Your smile. “I want to. Allow me, lover.”
No one has ever taken care of him. No one has ever bothered to. Not until you. 
He silently does what you asked, too stunned to come up with a clever tease.
His eyes flutter shut in what comes close to embarrassment. For some reason, he feels more exposed than ever when you wrap the cloth around his cock.
“Tell me if it gets too much,” you say, your voice but a whisper.
He immediately shakes his head. “Not with you.”
A hiss parts his lips as you tenderly take care of him.
Astarion rests his head just above your breast and 
“Do you wish to talk?” he asks.
Your lips find their way through his damp curls, placing a kiss atop his head.
“Do you want to?”
He chuckles, feeling his cock soften in your hand – definitely a first. “I fear I'm too drained to do so.”
“Silence it is,” you say and he feels your warm breath against his skin.
Not just any silence.
Comfortable silence.
The rare type old romance books mention in passing and that many seek to no avail.
But he's found it because he's found you.
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huskersbooze · 2 months
Text
Who's in Control?
Alastor x Reader
| Part 1(here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 |
Summary : You sold your soul to Alastor and had no idea how big of a deal this was. Until recently, you finally learn what it means, and realize all that Alastor had been doing was just a lie.. or was it?
Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader, Huskerdust? (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)
Warnings : swear words
Additional Tags : Angst, miscommunication, misunderstandings, Alastor actually being nice?!, no use of (Y/n)
Ib : Who's in Control By Set It Off
Word count : 1.8k
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"Good morning, dear."
"Morning, Al." You reach the lobby and take a seat on the floor next to Alastor's chair.
"How was your sleep, darling?"
"It was good! And yours?"
"Aha, hilarious, really. You know I don't sleep, my dear." He places a hand on your head and gives your hair a ruffle. "You really do know how to brighten my day."
The rest of the team reaches the lobby, and you all gather around for your daily dose of trust exercises.
-----
You and Alastor had been growing closer and closer ever since your arrival at the hotel. There was no doubt that he was your favourite person there.
And, well, for Alastor, he never wanted to admit it, but everyone in the hotel could tell, and even he was aware.
He was growing a soft-spot for you.
It was never supposed to be this way. He was never meant to grow attached. It just somehow happened, and that was that.
Everything between you two was going great. Except for that one little issue that bothered Alastor.. but you didn’t have to know. He never tried to abuse any of that power when he asked for your soul. He never thought of doing anything to you.
But there comes a time in every relationship where a lie can ruin it all.
“Hey, sugar. How ya’ doin’?” Angel Dust leans by the bar counter, greeting you as usual.
“I'm doing decent. Husk and I were just talking about you.”
“We were fuckin’ not!” You watch as the cat's ears twitch, the drink he was originally pouring tipping over.
“Oh, really? No need ta’ lie Husky~” You laugh at Angel's teasing, which makes Husk let out a low growl. “At least I don't gawk over a certain demon so obviously.”
“Hey! Are you talking about me and Al?”
“Who else would he be talkin’ about?” Angel tilts his head to the side, giving you a knowing glare. “Ya’ can't even deny it.”
“Al and I are just friends.”
“Kid, Angel's right.” The cat can only do so much but sigh. “You don't know him as well as I do. He treats you differently.”
“Still, we're just friends-”
“The Radio Demon doesn't do ‘friends’, kid.”
“Yeah, well, he owns my soul. Of course he'd treat me differently.”
The way it so simply came out of your mouth like it wasn't some big deal. Both Husker and Angel Dust froze in place, staring at you wide-eyed.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“What.. what did you just say?” The spider can hardly comprehend the news you'd just dropped.
“He owns my soul..?”
“Kid. What the actual fuck?!”
“What the fuck did he do to you?! Ya’ alright?! Are you hurt?”
You watch as the two demons skim your body up and down, firing questions at you, checking up to make sure you weren't hurt.
But you were confused.
“What's going on? Why are you guys suddenly acting so strange?”
“Wh- Why did you sell ya’ soul to him?!”
“Fuck I knew he was up to no good!”
“He told me by selling my soul to him he'd protect me from everything and anything at all cost. I didn't see a reason to decline?” You reply to Angel's question, ignoring Husk as he mutters about himself being correct. “I got nothing to lose.”
“Ya’ got everything to lose, shitass.” You hear his voice start to crack slightly as you realise tears welling up in his eyes.
“Angel?! Hey, what's wrong?”
“Damn, kid. You really don't know shit, huh?”
“About..?”
“What it means to sell your soul.”
“I know what it means, Al said-”
“Forget that fucker.” Husk practically spits out his name. “D'you know why I work here at the bar?”
“Because you like your job..?”
“No. It’s because I was forced by the person I sold my soul to.”
“Who..?”
“Hell, kid.. you really can't take a hint?”
And just like that, he says one more name, and your whole world comes tumbling down on you.
He didn't actually care for you, he was just shaping you in case you came to use.
He didn't actually enjoy your company, he was just watching you to make sure you were obedient.
He didn't actually mean any of the things he said. He was just trying to manipulate you.
And you were so damn lost. So damn lost as to whether the control and power you thought you had, really belonged to you.
“Valentino is an overlord.. and he's your boss?”
“Yup.” Angel nods.
“And he owns your soul like Al owns Husk’s?”
“Exactly.” Husk replies.
“And there's no escaping this contract..?”
“No.” The two reply together.
“Fuck.”
-----
“Greetings, my dear! How are you on this fine morning?” The static sounds from Alastor's usual seat at the lobby where you all gather every morning.
There's that usual smile etched on his face, which, you used to believe looked genuine when he was talking to you, but it seemed that wasn't the case.
“Hey, Husk. Hey, Angel.” You greet the two on the couch, completely passing by Alastor and ignoring his whole existence. “Mind if I sit?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” Angel scoots over and makes space for you to squeeze between Husk and himself. “Ya’ look like hell.”
“You alright, kid?”
“Couldn't sleep much last night, but I'm fine.” You reassure them.
The rest of the crew were a bit startled at your display, knowing well that you refused to not sit by Alastor's chair, normally.
And here you were, ignoring him completely like he was no longer relevant, and hanging with the other two demons.
“Okay.. what an interesting way to start the morning!” Charlie tries to break the ice.
Everyone turns their attention towards her.
Everyone but Alastor.
He was practically fuming with rage, anger, irritation, but yet, a tiny bit of worry.
How dare you ignore the Radio Demon like he was some piece of useless trash?
But then again.. why were you suddenly acting so cold and distant? What did he do wrong?
He couldn't help but focus his attention on you throughout the entire day, but you didn't even spare him a single glance.
Needless to say, you felt a knock on your door that night.
“Darling, how wonderful to see you! Wonderful, really. Mind if I come in?”
“A little. What do you need, Alastor?” You stand at the door frame, hand still on the door handle, prepared to slam the door in case anything happens.
Meanwhile, Alastor was pissed. You had never rejected inviting him in for late night chatting, in fact, you never rejected anything from him.
“It's nothing, really. I just hoped to have a friendly little chat with you, if that's alright?” Alastor leans down to your level, tilting his head and giving you his usual smile he reserved for you, and you only.
“A bit busy. Maybe next time.” You attempt to close the door, but a hand swoops in and, damn, was he strong.
“Dear, what seems to be the issue?”
“I’m really busy, Alastor.” You sigh. His ears twitch at the name. Where were all his sweet little nicknames? Why were you only referring to him by his full name?
“Clearly, something is wrong, and I ought to find out what I had done to deserve such treatment.” He states, making himself welcome in your room. “Talk to me, darling.”
“Oh enough with the pet names, I’m not your fucking pet.” You roll your eyes, closing the door behind you to make sure no one stumbles upon your little predicament.
Alastor stiffens, then laughs.
“Whatever are you talking about, dear? Of course you’re not my pet.”
“The damn contract says otherwise..” You watch as Alastor shifts uncomfortably, his back still facing you. “I should’ve known you just wanted another soul. Fuck you, Alastor.”
You continue on about how you never should’ve trusted him, and how you finally knew about everything so there was no point in him pretending to tolerate you.
Alastor, however, could barely process anything you were saying. He could hear his own static in his own head, and it was growing louder and louder.
What the fuck was happening? How did you know? What did he ever do? Where did he go wrong..?
“Darling, please.. You don’t understand-” The radio filter in his voice was off, his actual voice coming out as a soft plea.
Taken aback, you stopped talking. Alastor turned to face you, smile still etched high and proud, but his eyes looked like he was about to break.
“Alastor..” You murmur. “I just don’t think I can trust you anymore. I’m sorry.”
“When have I ever used any of that power on you?!” Alastor snaps, eyes darting all over the place, trying to find out what to do to fix all this. “I’ve been nothing but nice! I.. I helped you when you were in trouble! I did nothing to hurt you..”
You watch as Alastor starts losing his usual composure, having it slowly drifting away.. It was heartbreaking seeing him like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him and pretend nothing happened.
“It doesn’t matter when you’re in control..”
“No.. darling, no! You’re in control!” He scrambles, grabbing you by the shoulders.
“Really? I’m not sure I trust any of that bullshit anymore.”
“Dear, please, listen to me..!”
“I'm sorry, Al.. I think it's best if you leave.”
He pauses.
“Have a good sleep, dear.” He says, voice filter completely off. It was a rare occasion getting to hear his sweet voice. Too bad it had to be under such circumstances.
-----
“Oh my, Alastor, what's got your ears pinned back?” Rosie leads her friend through the halls and has him take a seat opposite of her. “Is everything alright?”
“No.. no it's not.” He replies. “She found out.”
“About the deal?”
“No, Rosie. No.” He sighs. “She found out what selling her soul to me actually permits me.”
“But you never wanted to abuse that power, did you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then, I'm assuming you didn't tell her?”
“No.”
“Well, why not?”
“Would it make a difference?" She could practically hear him scoff. "She's irritated at me as is. It's not like she'd even heed my words."
“Come, now, Alastor. You know as well as I that the sweetheart would listen.” Rosie tuts, waving a hand at him.
“She doesn't need to know how powerful she actually is.. she doesn't need to know her soul is being gambled this very second.”
Alastor sighs, getting up from his chair.
“Thank you for your kind words, Rosie. I shall take my leave now.”
“Take care, Alastor.” She smiles. “I'm sure she'll understand.”
“I surely hope you're correct."
———/ TBC. /———
READ PART 2 HERE
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bunniesanddeer · 2 months
Text
Touch Pt 2
Alastor x GN!Reader
Part One
Plot: Alastor talks to Charlie about his problem, sort of. Then he settles the situation with Reader.
Tags: GN! Reader, fluff, angst, minor pining, short fic.
Word Count: 1,591
Touch Pt. 2
It was Charlie that came to get him. He had neglected to make dinner or even tell the others that he wasn’t going to make it that night. Charlie had knocked on his door, her rhythmic knock ever-so recognizable, and leaned her head just inside. 
“Hey, Al? You alright, in there?” He could see her eyes flit about, before landing on him. “We were worried about you.”
Alastor just hummed, disinterest coloring his face. He was sitting at a small table just across the border of the original room and his swamp, sipping a cup of coffee, and reading. 
Charlie, seemingly ignoring his clear show of indifference, stepped further into his room, shutting the door behind her. 
“Don’t worry about dinner. Angel begged for us to just order pizza instead. Something about ‘junk food healing the soul’, or whatever,” Charlie continued, making her way towards Alastor. Although her hands fiddled with each other, she kept her voice steady. Charlie was getting better at hiding her nerves around Alastor. (He could almost say he was proud, but that would be inane!) “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Charlie said your name, and Alastor’s ear perked, on their own accord. “They mentioned you seeming off earlier, but didn’t want to bother you.”
“I can assure you that I am fine, dear. I don’t know what silly thoughts they’ve put in your head, but everything is fine,” Alastor said, trying to keep his smile wide. When he finally looked at Charlie, he realized she hadn’t believed a word he’d said. How ridiculous! There was nothing wrong! She should just take his word for it, and leave. 
“I don’t know. You do seem bothered by something.” Charlie made her, ridiculous, thinking face, before nodding to herself. She promptly sat herself in the seat opposite Alastor, and folded her hands on the table. “You should talk about it. It’s not good to let these things bottle up.”
Alastor nearly dropped his smile so he could glare at her. How absolutely ludicrous! He had nothing to talk about! And even if he did, he had nothing he would willingly tell Charlie. “There is nothing to talk about. Please leave.”
Charlie cocked her head, and narrowed her eyes. She said your name, again, watching his ears twitch. “This is about them, isn’t it! You’ve been acting weird around them recently. Always staring at them.”
Alastor gritted his teeth, trying to hold his composure. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“HA! It is! You would never respond like that if it wasn’t.” Charlie smiled smugly, and Alastor wanted to claw her face off. He couldn’t, but it was an entertaining thought. He could turn her skin into ribbons, and use them to gift-wrap things for Rosie. “Come on, what’s going on? You didn’t have a problem with them before.”
Alastor hesitated. He could try and pry information out of Charlie, if he let himself be a tiny bit honest. He sighed, and set down his book and mug. “Alright, I’ll tell you a little, but! I have a question first.”
Charlie gave him a suspicious look, but she acquiesced with a nod. 
“Why are they suddenly all… touchy with everyone? You mentioned some time ago that they don’t like being touched, but that seems to have changed, rather out of nowhere,” Alastor said, trying to keep his motivation for the answer hidden. He watched as Charlie’s face flooded with multiple emotions, before settling on something soft. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it made his skin crawl. The deer-demon hoped that expression had nothing to do with him. 
“Ah. Yeah. I meant to explain that when they talked to me about it recently, but I completely forgot,” Charlie sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. “They’re touch averse, but when they get comfortable with people, especially good friends, it’s something they start to… hmm what is the word I want to use… They kind of start to crave it. Touch is something they don’t get a lot of, so when they are comfortable with someone, they’ll initiate a lot of it. So now that they’re settled into the hotel, and know all of us well enough, they’re more comfortable.”
He had never considered something like that before. You would get lonely, wouldn’t you? You were a very outgoing soul, but sequestering yourself from others would get hard after a time, wouldn’t it? The more Alastor thought about it, the more it made sense. You had been there quite a while once you started to get tactile with the others. But still, it didn’t make sense that he would be excluded! You were always so nice to him! You sometimes sought him out for conversation. Was he too overbearing sometimes? Alastor’s mind slightly spiraled, the longer he thought about it. 
“You alright there, Al?” Charlie’s voice interrupted his mental descent with a rough jerk. “Does your problem have something to do with that?”
Alastor looked away from the princess, trying to contain his thoughts down enough so he could tell her without giving it all away. But the idea of you fearing him or something of that nature made his stomach churn. He couldn’t think straight.
“Then why not me?”
Alastor didn’t realize he had spoken until Charlie’s eyebrows popped up. “Oh. Oh geez.” Her face scrunched in guilt. “That might be my fault.”
A screech interrupted the soft static that played around Alastor. “What?”
Charlie’s eyes flitted about, uncomfortable with the weight of Alastor’s glare. “Yeah. I mentioned, pretty early on to them, that you also don’t like being touched. That sometimes you might touch others, but you didn’t like it.”
Alastor cupped his forehead in one hand, and glared down at the table. “Are you kidding me?”
“Ah, no. I’m pretty sure that’s it. They’re pretty good about keeping boundaries, so they might have been trying to make sure you were comfortable,” Charlie muttered. She cupped her face in her hands, melting into them with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Al. I can totally go talk to them for you. If I had known this was a problem, I would never…”
Alastor tuned out Charlie’s ramblings. This whole thing had been a misunderstanding. Somewhat. It was true, he didn’t like being touched, most of the time. However, he did not like being left out of things without being consulted! It should have been up to him to draw that line. Alastor huffs to himself, and decides he will simply talk to you, himself.
He abruptly stands from his chair. “Alright then! I’m off to go talk to the little darling! I will straighten this out myself, Charlie.” Without another word, or even bothering to make sure she left his room, he took off towards your room.
He knocks twice, and waits patiently. Alastor hears a few thumps, and is glad that you’re inside. Much better to have this conversation in a private place, rather than out in the open!
The door creaks open, and there you are! You smile up at him. “Hi, Alastor. What can I do for you,” you ask. 
Ha! What could you do for him? (What couldn’t you do? No. He wasn’t going to continue thinking.)
“Hello, my dear! I was hoping you had a moment, so we could talk! Hopefully, inside?” He gestures towards the inside of your room, and, although you hesitate, you nod. You open the door wider, and let him in.
“What’s up?” You ask. (He would never get over how strange slang and expressions got in recent years. At least he could understand most of them now. It used to be hard to understand younger souls).
“Ah. I was hoping to clear up a misconception that you might have.” Alastor leans down, leaving a few inches of space between your faces. Your eyes widen, just slightly, in surprise, but he is pleased to see you hold your ground. “I do not always mind being touched. I have, in fact, noticed you actively avoiding touching me.” Alastor leans back, suddenly, placing a hand over his heart. “And oh, does it hurt, dearest!”
He says it as if it’s a joke, (it isn’t), and it is, but he dislikes being singled out in matters as trivial as these! Your brows furrow, but you still give him a smile.
“Ah, dang, Al. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to exclude you. I just thought you didn’t like that kind of stuff.” You smile wider, your tone turning silly. “I’ll make sure to include you in all our group hugs now!”
Alastor’s brows flatten, and his ears pin back, just slightly. “Please don’t.”
Your eyes close as you smile and laugh. You take a hand and cover it up. (Alastor wants to pull it down. One should never hide their smile. He doesn’t, though). He feels a weight, that he hadn’t noticed, lift from him at the sight. 
When you put a hand on his arm and squeeze, softly, it feels right. He says little more, just a ‘good night’. When he finally deigns to make himself dinner, he lets the joy finally saturate his body. What a delightful feeling!
He enjoys the next several days, where he realizes how many little touches you give him. If he preens beneath them, or his smile grows wider, or his tail wags, no one notices. Much better that way. No one needed to know. 
Much less you, with your soft smiles, and happy laughter. 
Not knowing would always be the better option.
Taglist:
I have no idea how to do one of these! I apologize if it doesn't work! Also, some of the names aren't working, when I try to tag, so I am sorry if you are listed, but it didn't work??
@wpdarlingpan @cxrsedwxrlds @littledolly2345 @angelofthorr @nkirukaj @hazelfoureyes @teh-vampire-bunny @fairyv-ice @ittoehurt @poppingaround @mysterypotatoink @viridiya @xalygatorx @viviannagiorgini
ALSO
Thank you?? I wasn't expecting the response that I got from everyone! Thank you so much! I really appreciate it. I squee'd out loud when I saw how many people had read my silly little fic. Also, if you have left an ask, I am working on it, I promise! I just have a very crazy schedule.
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adams-angels · 2 months
Note
Plssssass pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls do a adam x reader smut where adam is in heat or anything plssssssss
I had WAAAAY too much fun writing this one 🤭 I was originally gonna do another angel s/o but where's the fun in that? I spiced this up with a sinner s/o
💖 Please send me requests! Send me your own headcanons! I will draw! I'm obsessed rn!💖
Heat
Smut below the cut! Minors dni
Extermination day. Once again. Yaaay! You hid in your apartment and waited. You knew he was coming. He was always coming.
You don't know why, but a couple years ago you were spared by Adam. Ever since then he always comes to check on you. Makes sure you're still alive. He says it's because it's funny watching you get pissed off at every little thing. Every little thing being his annoying ass.
You hear the knock at the door. It's the secret knock Adam made up so you'd know it was him. But this knock was rushed. Desperate almost. It sent a cold chill down your spine. It's not that you like Adam. You just don't want anything to happen to him and would be sad if he stops visiting but you don't LIKE him.
You quickly rush to the door, checking the peephole and there he was. Looking different? You unlocked the many bolts on your apartment door and let him in. He pushed himself past you, "what's up sinner tits?" Dumb name. You shut your door and lock it back up. "Hello, Adam." You look over at him and he looks restless. "You okay?" You ask, cocking an eyebrow in curiosity. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I'm fine, whatever." He scratched his arm like he was a drug addict. Itching for his next hit.
Your mind raced. What if the exorcists know he's been visiting me? What if he has to kill me? What if- you're snapped out of your thoughts. "Stop overthinking. You do that too much." He groaned. "Okay?" You walk over to him, his body tenses. "Why are you acting weird?" His eyes widen, he takes a couple steps back. "M-me? Weird?! Ha! That's- that's fucking rich coming from you!"
Okay, something up. That stutter screamed something was up. You put your hands on your waist stepping closer to him, causing him to step back. You ended up cornering him once he was stopped by the wall. "what the hell is up with you, Adam. Tell me, right now!"
"I need you." He whined. You don't know if it was the fact he had no where else to go, or you were being quite demanding but you weren't expecting him to whine like that. But God, did it make you feel powerful. This devine being, whining like a whore. "Excuse me?"
"fuck, I need you, y/n. Please?" He pleaded. "Jesus, it's like you're a fucking heat." You joked but his whimper told you everything. "Noooo, fucking way. Do you- are you in heat?" You laugh at him. "Don't fucking laugh!" He grabs your wrist and spins you around, pinning you to the wall.
~⁠♡✧⁠。 I really hope you enjoyed! I'm not a writer by any means but I appreciate any support I receive so thank you for reading! 。✧⁠♡~⁠
"I need to fuck you. I don't want to. But I need to. I can't stop thinking about you. No one else is working, so please." He begged, never in your afterlife did you think you'd see Adam begging for you. But here you are. In your apartment, Adam pleading with you. "I'll do it." He lit up. "On one condition." He groaned his forehead resting on yours. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you want, babe."
You look him in his LED eyes, "mask off." He hesitated, removing his head from yours to get a full look at your expression. "What? Why?" He asked, his tone would tell you he was annoyed by the request but inside he was scared. What if you changed your mind once you saw his actual face. "Because I like to look at the person who's going to fuck me." He whines, he's desperate right now, he needs you. He reaches for his mask, hesitates before taking it off.
He looked gorgeous, stunning, and surprisingly embarrassed. "You so-" he couldn't wait any longer, his lips crashed into yours, his tongue explored your mouth. There was no negotiation on who was dominating the situation.
His hands caressed your body starting at your neck tracing down to your waist before getting to your legs, he lifts you up with ease. Sloppily kissing you, as he takes you to the nearest surface, your side table. Sitting you on top of it, knocking off a couple of books, a small plant and a picture frame among other things.
He releases your lips to move on to your jawline then neck, covering you in marks. His marks. You can't help but moan at the sensation. His hands head straight to your pants, gaining access to your intimate area. Once your pants are off he whips off his robe and lifts you up from the side table. Lining up with your entrance. His eyes full of lust for you. He watched your face as he slid you onto his cock. It was perfect, dickmaster is right. It was like he cock was made to fit you. He didn't give much time for you to enjoy the fit before he started thrusting into you.
His arms wrapped around your back holding you close to his body. His teeth sinked into your neck, he moaned into your skin. Your hands found their way to the back and top of his head, tugging at his brown locks. His wings burst out, twitching and trembling as he buries his cock deep inside you. Filling you fully with his member, hitting that sweet spot with each thrust. "Fuck.. so good y/n" he mumbles into your neck. "So tight.."
His hips stuttered, he released your neck and went back to your lips, feeling you moan into his mouth sent him over the edge as he finished inside of you. His wings fell to the floor and you both crashed into the sideboard, Adam leaning on you for support. "Fuck.. bitch, who knew you'd feel so good." "Who knew you liked dirty sinners." You panted. "Don't spoil it."
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azrielbrainrot · 2 months
Text
I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2
Azriel x Reader
Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury
Word Count: 6670
Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!
Part 1 ○ Part 3
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Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.
Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.
His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.
In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.
Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.
He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.
You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.
As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.
He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.
Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.
He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.
He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.
His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.
His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.
“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.
“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.
He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.
Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.
Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.
Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.
He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.
“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.
He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.
He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.
“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.
“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.
“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.
“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”
“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.
Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.
“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”
“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.
“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.
“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.
He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.
“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?
Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.
Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.
“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.
“I will not leave her.”
“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.
Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.
He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.
He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.
Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.
“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.
“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”
He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.
He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.
“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.
When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.
Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.
Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.
That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.
“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.
“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”
“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.
“Why would she hurt you then?”
“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.
“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.
“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”
“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?
“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.
“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”
“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”
Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.
⋆。°✩°。⋆
You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.
You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.
The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.
You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.
Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.
Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.
You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.
As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.
You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.
As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.
You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.
You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.
The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.
When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.
“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.
“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.
“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.
Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.
The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.
As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.
If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.
Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.
Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.
You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.
When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.
Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.
You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.
A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?
“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.
Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.
You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?
Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.
“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.
He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.
You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.
“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.
Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.
“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.
“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.
You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.
The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.
“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”
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evielmostdefinitely · 5 months
Note
Pls do something with peacekeeper!Coriolanus I have yet to see anyone do that trope + I feel like he’s more mean and protective in that era
mastermind |peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
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prompt: based off above prompt, but wanted to tweak it a teeny tiny bit so this is how coriolanus meets capitol!reader. the plot of the original film is altered a little to fit this.
contains: tw- violence, guns, shooting. dark, protective, manipulative coriolanus. not super heavy, but there are some kinda darkish themes so read at your own discretion.
“Snow,” Commander Hoff’s gruff voice rang through the doorway, hitting Coriolanous head on, his heart lurching with fear. They found out about Lucy Gray, that she’d escaped after Mayfair and Billy’s death. Or maybe worse, maybe she hadn’t headed north, maybe she’d told them. 
His mind raced as he took a step forward, helmet in hand respectfully, hoping Hoff wouldn’t see the way his hands trembled. “Commander, Sir.” Snow held his head high. If this was to be the end, he wouldn’t go out crying. Not like Sejanus- no, Corio would have pride. 
Hoff set the papers down on his desk with a huff, head jerking back for Coriolanus to come towards him. “Snow, I need you to escort Miss Duke to the Mayor’s office.” He nodded towards the corner. “I guess with the recent tragedy of his daughter, Mayor Mayfield’s mind has been elsewhere. He didn’t get his quarterly tesserae count turned in. The Capitol sent Miss Duke to get them, so make sure she gets there.” 
Coriolanus’ eyes wandered to you, standing in the corner properly, hands clasped elegantly in front of you. A shining beacon in the dark skies of the coal country, a glimmering ray of good after all the bad Corio had. He could tell you were from The Capitol, though you tried to dress more humbly for the visit to the district, he supposed. 
You gave him a smile, and for a moment, Corio’s heart leapt with excitement. That familiar rush of heat returning, coursing through his chest. “Private Snow will take you there, Miss Duke. He’s one of our best. On his way to officer training in Two. You’re in good hands.” Commander Hoff nodded. 
You thanked him quietly, kitten heels clicking across the hardwood floors. Coriolanus followed you, trying to keep his stoic expression, though his eyes wandered to the swell of your ass, hugged perfectly in your dress. 
“Snow,” Commander Hoff called before he left. “A word?” 
The icy chill of fear flooded back into Corio’s system, gripping the knob. You didn’t seem to notice, nodding politely, shutting the door behind you. 
“Sir?” Coriolanus swallowed the lump in his throat, approaching the desk slowly. 
Hoff leaned back in his chair. “You know who that is, right?” 
Coriolanus blinked. His mind had been so occupied with his impending doom, his fate had seemed to turn and tread on the worst sides of things, he was so sure it would continue. “Miss Duke?” 
Hoff blinked at him, laughing softly. “Yeah, Duke, Snow.” He pressed. Coriolanus felt dumb, small like he did when he talked to Highbottom. “Snow, does the name Atticus Duke mean anything to you?” 
Coriolanus' eyes widened lightly, turning towards the door in surprise. “Atticus Duke? The-” 
“-The man who owns half of Panem?” Hoff snorted lightly. “Yeah, that’s his youngest out there. Only girl, alright?” 
Coriolanus felt his curiosity peek. He’d been wallowing in the loss of Lucy Gray, he didn’t even put it together. Thinking you were just another Capitol girl. Not the Duke Heiress. 
“Yes, sir. I-I see that now.” Corio nodded dumbly. 
“Good. So you know that her father paid for the destruction of the rebellion? That he funded the Capitol? And that if these people see her, those fucking Rebels are likely to want to hurt her?” Hoff pressed, his eyes narrowed in seriousness. “And that if something happens to her, our entire platoon will be hanging from that tree- or worse?” 
It shouldn’t have made Coriolanus as excited as he was. The thought of having that much power. He could easily have that level of control, have people quaking with fear- even the powerful ones, trembling at his feet the way Atticus Duke did. Oh, how he envied it. How he craved it. 
“Yes, sir.” Coriolanus nodded. 
“Snow, listen to me.” Hoff sat up straight, leaning over the desk. “If any of them get close to her, no mercy- do you understand?” 
Coriolanus nodded again, spine straightening with authority. “I have others trailing and leading the both of you- crowd control, but I wanted her to feel safe. Feel welcome. So I stuck her with you. Figured a familiar face from the Capitol would put her at some ease. Keep her from telling her father something that would have him questioning my rank and order around here.” 
“I understand, Commander.” Coriolanus said firmly. “I’ll keep her safe.” 
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“Wow,” You muttered, looking around the cobbled street. The Peacekeepers ahead of you barking orders, scaring off any pedestrians wandering about. “Is it always like this?” 
Corio blinked, his gun cradled in his hand, finger on the trigger- ready. “Always like what?” 
“This,” You waved around you. “It’s very…” 
“Depressing?” Corio muttered, a grumble, eyes scanning the perimeter in front of him over the gray skies and smog filled air. 
“Yeah.” You smiled softly. “I pictured it… prettier?” 
“It’s the coal district, Miss Duke.” Coriolanus said, the barrel of his gun pointed for backup at a scurrying coal miner. 
“So that’s what makes it so sad?” You challenged, brow raised. 
Corio didn’t answer. He knew what you were implying, and he wouldn’t humor it. Instead, his eyes scanned the street. “May I ask why you’re here?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. 
“What?” Corio snapped, harsher than he meant to. 
“Why you’re here?” You repeated. “I, uh, I don’t want to sound rude. I just- I saw you on the games. You were the mentor who won. I just, I figured you would be at University with the others.” 
“I made an enemy. A powerful one.” Corio quipped shortly, jaw set. He couldn’t let his mind race and spiral, not now. He needed to stay focused. 
“Oh,” You muttered, looking down at the wet, broken road. “I’m sorry.” 
Corio’s heart skipped, maybe with joy, maybe with fear. “May I ask you why you’re here?” Coriolanus asked, eyes cutting down towards you. 
“I have to get the count for the tesserae.” You motioned towards the Mayor’s office before you. “I have to take them back to The Capitol.” 
“Yes, but,” Corio paused, scanning the area. “You’re- Surely, you don’t need to do that, Miss Duke.” He muttered, voice dropping to a low octave. 
You blushed, sheepishly looking towards your shoes, ruined from the muck in the road. “So, Commander Hoff briefed you on me?” You grinned. 
Coriolanus didn’t answer. “I already knew.” He lied easily, eyes cutting to you. “We’ve met before. In passing. I was Sejanus’ friend.” 
“Oh,” Your face fell. “Right. I-I am so sorry for your loss. It was-” 
“-Yes.” Corio nodded, the bile rising in his throat. “We-We met at the Academy’s Ball two springs ago.” 
You turned, looking at him fully for the first time. He tried not to blush, icy eyes meeting your own for a moment. “That’s right.” You grinned. “You-You had longer hair. Tigris’ cousin?” 
“Yes.” Coriolanus nodded. 
“She was apprenticing for my aunt.” You smiled softly. 
Corio looked at you, his rigid posture slacking just for a moment, relaxing in your presence. “Why aren’t you doing something like that?” He asked, brows furrowing for a moment. “Or in University, yourself. Surely that would be… more appropriate than this.”
You bit back a smile, chin ducking down. “Maybe.” You shrugged. “I like this job, though. I get to see the Districts.” 
“Why would you ever want to do that?” Corio snarled lightly. “I can’t wait to get out of them. Get away from these people.” He muttered bitterly. 
You blinked at him, eyes narrowing lightly, stopping before the steps of the Mayor’s building. “You seemed quite fond of that song bird you helped win.” You countered. “And she was among these people.” 
Coriolanus was stunned, mouth opening stupidly, before swallowing his jumbled words. Instead, he offered you his arm politely for you to steady yourself on while you climbed the steps to the Mayor’s office. 
Coriolanus waited outside the office at attention while you collected the tesseraes for the quarter from a distraught, and clearly drunken, Mayor Mayfield. His slurred speech, pores sweating out whiskey soaked odor. 
You took the envelope, thanking him before quickly slipping out. Coriolanus stood beside you, falling back into step with you, the other Peacekeepers joining around the two of you. 
“You’re returning to The Capitol today?” Corio asked, though his eyes stayed straight ahead. 
“They asked me to stay the night.” You answered simply. “Something about a train leaving in the morning?” You looked at him carefully. You knew he was to join you with the others. You’d given the orders from Dr. Gaul to Commander Hoff that morning.
Coriolanus frowned, turning to you curiously. “Tomorrow? Why would they make you-” 
The ravenous bark of Peacekeepers in front of you made you jump, a deranged looking man, covered in soot from the mines, charging at you with a vengeful pace. You froze, clutching the envelope in front of you like a shield, glued to the concrete in pure fear. 
“Gimme that envelope, you stupid bitch!” The man roared, mere feet away from you. “Get my daughter’s name outta there! Take it out!” 
You flinched, bracing for the impact of him hitting you, his body hurling towards yours. It never came. Instead, a shot behind you had a gasp tearing from your lungs. The bullet so close to your own head, you heard it whizzing past you like the June Bugs that flew in the fields in the countryside of the district. 
The man grunted, a bloody gurgle, a crimson patch seeping through his stomach. The other Peacekeepers seized him, shouting and grabbing at him, hauling him away roughly. Your hand trembled, pressing to your lips. Coriolanus stood behind you, gun lowering, finger still on the trigger. 
His face was hard, stoic, eyes narrowed dangerously- furiously. “Come on.” Coriolanus muttered, a hand gently on your back, guiding you forwards. The crowds were peering, poking around at the sound of gunshots, the groans and screams of the man. “We need to get you to the Commander’s Quarters.” 
“Snow, hey, look we-we didn’t see him-” One Peacekeeper jogged frantically, hands trembling in fear. “He just- He came out of nowhere. I’m so sorry, Miss.” 
“It’s alrig-” 
“-Come on.” Coriolanus hissed, cutting your apology off short. “We need to get her back quickly. Can you manage that?” He snapped at the other boy. 
The other boy faltered for a moment, scrambling back into line. You were still shaking, pushed into Corio’s side far closer than what would be appropriate for two strangers. “He-He was just saying sorry.” You muttered, your own eyes scanning around you. 
“He nearly got you killed.” Coriolanus snapped, his eyes hard but they never met your gaze, scanning around you protectively. “His carelessness nearly cost you your life.” Cost us all our lives, Corio thought. 
You didn’t respond, only stepping with his quickened pace. 
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“Are you alright?” You asked Coriolanus, peeking around the corner of the train station towards him. 
He was surprised to see you, though he supposed he shouldn’t have been. He assumed the ‘Princess of Panem’ would have her own private carriage on the train, not subjected to riding with him. 
“I think I’m supposed to ask you that.” Corio gave a half smile, a tone much lighter than it was before. 
You blushed, looking down. “I’m alright.” You sighed lightly. “I told your Commander that. I promise I don’t need an escort back to The Capitol.” 
Coriolanus looked down at his bags. “I’m not- I’m returning to The Capitol as well.” He said, chest boasting at the words. 
“Oh?” You lifted a brow. “No District Two?” 
“No,” Corio shook his head. “I’ve been asked to return.” It was vague, and he knew it- knew it piqued your interest. 
“Well, congratulations. I’m sure your family will be excited.” You smiled politely, lifting your own overnight bag when the train doors opened. 
“Here,” Coriolanus stopped you, reaching for the strap of the bags. Your hands brushed in the smallest way. Overlapping as he took the bag politely, a surge of electricity jolted between both of you, rapid sparks that would crescendo in the days, weeks, years to come. 
You blushed, turning your head to hide the way it flustered you. It was so embarrassingly juvenile, his eyes sparkling, lips tugging in a grin when he looked at you, pinky grazing over your knuckle just for a moment before he held the bag. 
“Allow me.” Coriolanus was smug, proud, pulling the bag up. He let you on first, placing the bags away, eyes cutting towards you. You were stealing a glance at him, turning after being caught sheepishly. 
You had the window seat, looking out at the smoggy station. “Is this seat taken?” Corio asked, hand resting on the arm of the seat next to you. 
You shook your head, moving your hands to your lap. You were so poised, Corio knew it had been drilled into your head since you were young, just as it was to him. His mind raced with excitement, the idea of getting you to be so improper, defile you. 
“Do you know your orders once you return?” You asked, looking at him carefully. The trains whistle trilling in the background. 
“I’m not sure.” It was a complete lie, he only knew a fraction of what awaited him when he returned. All the more reason he needed an ally, a powerful one at that. 
“Why?” Corio pressed, leaning forward to look at you. His dog tags hung loosely around his neck, draping over his underclothes of his uniform. It made your heart race. 
“I was just curious.” You shrugged, swallowing gently. 
“You were wanting to see me again?” Corio pressed, boldly. His heart skipped when you whipped around, staring at him with a wide eyed expression. 
“W-What?” You choked out, trying to remain calm, composed, but your heart was beating so fastly you were sure it would burst. 
“Were you wanting to see me again?” Coriolanus hummed, shifting in his seat to turn towards you. You were pressed against the glass, pinned by his gaze. “Because I was hoping to see you again. If you’d have me.” 
“You would?” You squeaked, sure that your fluster was apparent all over your face. 
“If you’d let me.” Corio purred smoothly. “I’d like to take you out sometime. Get to know you better. I’m very,” His fingers brushed over your own hand, satisfied at how you shuddered. “Interested in getting to know you.” 
You swallowed. No man had ever been so direct with you. He’d saved you the night before, so effortlessly. The feeling of his bicep around you, shielding you away, strong and steady. It had you sneaking your fingers between your thighs later that night shamefully at the thought. 
“I-I would like that.” You nodded, mind screaming when his hand held your, cradled with such care, you almost forgot how brutal he was yesterday. 
“Tomorrow?” Coriolanus asked, head tilting to the side. He wanted to set the date before you forgot, before you had time to ask around about him or think too much about his actions before. 
“That-That would be lovely.” You nodded, tongue swelling thickly in your mouth, heart hammering as he pushed closer and closer. 
His hand cradled your jaw softly, thumb stroking over your cheek bone. “May I?” Corio hummed, eyes lustful. 
You nodded. You weren’t quite sure why, you’d certainly never done something like this before. But then his lips were on you, hand cradling your jaw, moving to the back of your head gently. He migrated into your chair, somewhere between the Districts, hands on your back, pulling you in closer and closer. He kissed you like a man starved, possessively and passionately all at once- it made your head spin. 
It dawned on Coriolanus, what Dr. Gaul was talking about. Sacrifice, while brutal, was necessary. Losing Lucy Gray, Sejanus, without that would it have ever brought you to him? He would be in the woods, starving with a girl who nearly used him to survive, or hanging from a tree next to Sejanus. Certainly not sitting side by side in the train car, stealing small smiles and gentle kisses with you. His fate had turned, re-routed and he could see it now- his future, his empire with you. 
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nxuvillette · 5 months
Text
“LET’S KEEP THIS HUSH, HUSH.”
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CEO SECRET RELATIONSHIP W/ TR MEN
synopsis: messing with the ceo of your rivaling company didn’t seem that hard to let go of.. or did it?
❥- including : ran haitani, sanzu haruchiyo, rindou haitani
❥- note : trying this again! praying it actually works 😭 reblogs are appreciated!!
content warnings: nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, ceo!reader, bonten timeline, all men are ceo’s, mentions of harassment (sanzu), praising, use of pet names (baby , angel , princess), slight breeding kink (ran + rindou), creampie (all), some possessive behavior, mentions of pregnancy (rindou).
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♡ RAN HAITANI
you never expected to fall for someone like ran haitani. 
he was cunning, attractive, and quite a clever man. he also ran one of the best businesses in all of Roppongi. he attracted all kinds of women by just doing simply nothing, so when he saw you at a club, you didn’t think it would be anything more than a quickie in the bathroom. 
that quickie turned into dates, hookups at his apartment, and him taking you out more than you had anticipated.
however, all of that changed when you discovered that ran just wasn’t a ceo for some random company, but it was the same company that rivaled yours. your father had some previous ties to the business and he seemed to have forgotten to mention it to you when you took hold of the reins. you were now worried. as a ceo of your own company, you placed yourself at risk for possibly sabotaging things that your father had worked so hard to create. 
but, you just couldn’t help yourself. 
your face was smooshed into the leather of ran’s expensive couch. his fingertips danced along your spine while his cock lazily dragged inside of your walls. you had told yourself you weren’t going to see him tonight. you wanted to ignore his text messages, but there was something about his presence that drew you in. he was addictive. 
“you’re taking me so well, angel..” he squeezed the plush of your ass, savoring how soft your skin was. 
your eyes rolled back from how well ran was fucking you. there was just something about how he did it that made you light on fire. it’s what made you come crawling back to him every single time. “a-ah! ran! yes, right there!” you mewled when the tip kissed that spongy spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure over you.
the older haitani loved how pretty you sounded right now. he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. you were too damn perfect to ever pass up. he didn’t give a single shit if you two were meant to be “rivals.” how was someone like him supposed to never see someone like you? you were one of the only women he genuinely saw himself being comfortable with. he didn’t want to be a secret, but for you, he’d do absolutely anything.
his grip on your hips tightened and his pace suddenly became quicker than it had originally begun. “ran! fuck, fuck, cum inside me!” you cried, turning your head just a little so you could see his handsome face.
he couldn’t stop the smirk he wore from writing itself on his face. god, he had been wanting to do that for so damn long. “ah..? okay, baby, i’ll make sure you’re nice and full when i’m done..” he cooed, pushing you further into the couch.
skin slapped against each other as ran’s pace was practically animalistic. he groaned deeply when he finally met his release. spurts of his cum made its way into your cunt, making you shiver from how it felt. that had been the first time he had ever came inside you, and you honestly craved it a lot. it was so amazing.
he pulled out of you, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “i’ll gladly be your secret, baby, but nobody better touch you other than me..” 
♡ SANZU HARUCHIYO
you met sanzu in an odd way one evening. you were on the way home from your long and tiring work day when some random guy kept egging you on. he kept making comments towards you and practically begging for you to give him any ounce of attention.
well, the guy didn’t end up leaving you alone, and he ended up trailing after you in a pretty shitty part of town. you couldn’t lie that you weren’t scared. the sun had already set and that guy was hot on your tail. you could try calling the police but you knew full well that they wouldn’t get there in time to help you, so you tried your best to rush out of there and lose the guy.
unfortunately, he caught up to you and ended up yanking on your arm. you let out a scream and shoved him away from you, but he was quite strong. you thought you were about to be robbed or even worse, but that all immediately fizzled out when someone had intervened. a man with bubblegum pink hair had the guy shoved on the ground. he kicked and beat the shit out of the guy, leaving him completely scared and helpless on the dirty floor. 
sanzu had tended to you the moment he saw your frightened expression. he brought you to the police station and you reported the man who had been following you. you thought that would be the last time you’d ever see him, but that wasn’t the case.
you saw him more often than you should have. you two started a connection with each other and began to go out to bars or even little dates. you tried to tell yourself it was just platonic, but you disliked how your heart would often skip a beat whenever you saw his name light up on your phone. the only issue was that sanzu was the head of a huge company in Tokyo. he rivaled you, and seeing him could cause issues within your business. however, you just couldn’t stay away.
that’s how you ended up in your own office with sanzu hovering above you. his cock bullied your walls, making it difficult for you to keep quiet. “mmm.. sanzu! oh, god..” you moaned, looking at him through your eyelashes.
a smile stretched across his scarred lips. he knew from the beginning that you were his rival. he had seen you before, but he could care less. you were a beautiful woman and he couldn’t lie that you made him happy. “keep sayin’ it, baby, scream out my fuckin’ name so everyone in this building knows who’s making you feel good..” he then began to play with your swollen clit, increasing the pleasure. 
you practically screamed his name when you finally came all over his cock. he thought it was so cute seeing you becoming such a mess for him. “s-sanzu! sanzu!” you whined, trembling within his hands from your orgasm.
your desk began to creak from the movements and the weight you both were putting on it. sanzu’s pace was rough and fast. you could hardly keep up with him. his cock was twitching and within seconds he felt himself let go inside of you. he loved how warm your pussy felt around him. he just couldn’t help himself.
he kissed you sloppily, biting on your lower lip. “don’t think we’re much of a secret now, are we..?”
♡ RINDOU HAITANI
rindou haitani was quite the charmer. he didn’t have the best luck with women, but when he did, he treated them like angels. that was no different when he met you at one of the clubs he DJ at.
he drew you in almost instantly. his expensive cologne, lavender hair, a smile that could make any girl drop her panties. you knew hooking up with him that night would be good, and you thought it would be just a simple one night stand. most men your age never really stuck around after one sex filled evening, so you placed your expectations below what they usually were.
though, it shocked you when rindou continued to message you, even after your hookup.
although you were a little unsure of his intentions, you decided to keep seeing him. he took you out on nice dates, and he had even went as far as buying you a few nice gifts from expensive stores. it wasn’t until your assistant pointed out who rindou actually was that you realized how wrong it looked to be seeing someone like him. rindou ran a company that rivaled yours. it shocked you that you hadn’t noticed far sooner, but you just couldn’t stay away from him.
you repeated to yourself over and over that you wouldn’t fuck him again. you shouldn’t be doing it at all. 
but, your body had betrayed you and that desire for him lit like a candle in the dark.
rindou had your legs around his waist. his thrusts were deep and fast, making you cry out in pleasure every single time he reached those great spots inside you. he had you just where he wanted you. “rindou..! fuck, it feels so good..!” you threw your head back onto the pillow behind you. 
“heh, you enjoying yourself? you’re so fucking beautiful..” he groaned, leaning down to nibble at your neck.
you gasped when rindou bit down on that sweet spot on your neck. he sucked on it hard enough that there would for sure be a mark afterwards. it’s like he was begging for you two to be caught by others. that thought alone didn’t seem to bother rindou. if anything, he wanted people to know what you two were doing with each other. 
you clawed at his back when you felt your orgasm hit you harder than a truck. rindou couldn’t help but grunt when your pussy clamped around his cock so perfectly. fuck, it’s like you were made for him. “so good for me, baby, so fuckin’ good..” he quickened his thrusts, inching him closer to his high. “want me to cum in you..? make this pretty pussy all mine?” 
“y-yes! yes, please, rindou!” you cried, nodding your head.
he held your thighs tightly, fucking the absolute shit out of your cunt. you were so fucking great. he never found someone like you. he didn’t care what your statuses might be. all he wanted was you. 
rindou groaned one last time then he reached his climax. he had completely let go inside of you. thick cum filled your womb, leaving a huge mess inside. you took it all so well. he didn’t want to leave your snug walls. “wanna go again..? maybe i can give you a baby while i’m at it..” he smirked.
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© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.
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commander-rahrah · 7 months
Text
Firsts
Pairing: Astarion (non-ascended) x GN!Reader Word Count: ~1200 archiveofourown: here
masterlist: here
Summary: Post ending of BG3, established relationship. GN!Tav/Reader having a bit of self doubt and worrying that Astarion fell for the very first person he met once he realized he was free from Cazador and that they would understand if he someday decides that he wants to go explore or meet new people or fall in love more then once. Astarion’s reacts to this worry.
Note: I haven't posted any BG3 fics yet, but I just couldn't resist writing this little scene that's been bouncing around in my head this past week! I wrote it originally for my Tav named Olympia, a tiefling bard, but I changed it to second perspective for this post.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*
Astarion’s eyes were trained on your fidgety movements. You were picking at the blanket as you sat on the edge of the bed, your hand shifting anxiously back and forth as your brow was crumpled in thought.
Something was eating away at you. He just wasn’t sure what. You two had a seemingly normal day, not starting until well past sunset (your new adopted routine just for him). The both of you had done some research and shopping before returning to the tiny rooms you were calling home for the time being to relax for the remainder of the night.
But now that he thought about it, you had barely touched your meal tonight. And were much quieter than usual, not as optimistic or positive during the research that had once again been futile. Perhaps you were being plagued by nightmares again — images of the horrors the party had faced just a couple months ago were resurfacing.
A flash of anger coursed through him at himself for not noticing sooner. Taking a breath he didn’t really need, he strode over to you and joined you on the edge of the bed — the mattress sinking slightly with his added weight.
“Copper for your thoughts, my sweet?” He asked with a tilt of his head, before tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.
“I— I was thinking…,” You were quiet, and stumbled as you opened your mouth. He’d very rarely seen you like this — you always had a way with your words. You could be more poetic and flowery than even him. “And— and I understand if you do end up feeling this way.”
Confusion spread across all of Astarion’s features, “What in the hells are you talking about?”
You finally looked up at him, your eyes big and crinkled with worry, “I was the first person you met when you realized you were free… from him.” The pair of you had silently agreed to never mention that name again. “The first person you’ve been with. If you… if you decide you want to go see the world, experience new things, new people… I would understand.”
His jaw clenched together, “What?”
“I feel selfish keeping you all to myself. When there’s so much of the world you’ve not seen, so many other people you could be with that I—“
His red eyes blinked at you, before his lips turned downward, “You’re being serious.”
“I—“
He cut you off abruptly, waving his hand dramatically and pressing it into his chest, “Do you think that’s what I want? Have I told you that’s what I want?”
You shook your head, lips creasing, “No, I just want you to know that it’s ok if—“
“What, if I want to leave?” He stood up from the bed, looming in front of you as he spoke, “If I want to go galivant around to meet mysterious strangers, have a tryst or some torrid affair? I know that I am capable of making my own decisions. I know that darling, and I chose you. I choose you. And you reciprocated that.”
“I did. I do, I choose you. But I’ve—“
He interrupted you again, “Let me ask you something. Do you love me?”
“Of course. With all my heart.”
His heart still swelled with your answer. It did every time you admitted it to him. To hear it put out into the universe. That a tiny corner of it was indeed intended for him and you.
He pursed his lips before asking, “Have you loved people before me?”
“I—yes.” You admitted, looking down to your fingers that had become a twisted knot on your lap now.
“And did it feel the same? The love you shared for those other people.” He asked quietly, stepping closer and leaning down to undo the knot of your fingers. Instead threading them through his own pale, cold ones. “Did your love for them feel the same way you love me?”
Your throat bobbed as you swallowed, squeezing his hand in confirmation. “No. Not even close.”
“Exactly. You explored and experienced… and it still led you here, to me now. To your version of a first, yes?”
You nodded, the bottoms of your beautiful eyes starting to form with water as you tried to keep your tears at bay.
“I don’t need anybody else, or anywhere else.” Astarion sank to his knees in front of you, keeping his hands intertwined with your own. He dipped his head so he was looking up at you, his red eyes soft and tender. “Look… yes, you may have been the first person I stumbled upon after that damn ship. The first person I met once I realized I was free from his grasp. But you are also the first person to treat me with kindness and compassion. Respect. You’ve fought for me, protected me, fed me, been patient with me. You were the first person whose touch doesn’t make me feel ill, the first person who’s brought me to a blissful euphoria. You’ve given me peace. Autonomy. Safety. And love. No one has ever done that for me, not in my whole existence.”
His half dead heart was thundering in his chest. He had already declared himself to you once before, yet his whole body was shaking with emotion right now.
“And how dare you think so little of yourself. You aren’t just some notch in my belt, not a stepping stone in my life. You are everything.” Astarion used his thumb and finger to push your chin up, forcing your eyes to stare up into his. “I love you. No on else. And there will be no one else.”
The tears that were welling in your eyes finally broke free, rolling down your freckled cheeks. “I love you too. Irrevocably so.” Your voice was a raspy whisper.
“Oh my lovely moon, I wish you could see yourself how I see you.” Astarion’s voice was a gentle whisper.
He pressed a soft kiss onto your lips, both of his hands moving to grab the sides of your face. His pale thumbs wiped away the tears. “I surely hope these are somewhat happy tears now?”
You nodded profusely in his hands, a breathy laugh escaping you. “Happy, relieved.”
“Good. Now, no more of this talk alright? There is only room for one person to be filled with self doubt in this relationship and that position is currently filled by me.”
You frowned, “Starry, don’t jest about things like that.”
“Old habit.” His smirk pulled up enough that his fangs poked out. “No more stewing with your anxious thoughts. You’re going to come and join me on the balcony. Come on,” He stood up and held out his pale hand for you before he gently tugged you to the small balcony attached to your rooms.
The pair of you looked up at the inky black sky, glittering with the sprinkling of stars you could still see in Baldur’s Gate. They were blinking and swirling around the glowing, full moon. A sigh of contentment left you both as you stood in comfortable silence and basked in the light.
“What would the stars be without their moon?” He whispered in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist as he gathered you into him.
2K notes · View notes
bedoballoons · 6 months
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Fontaine, Sumeru , Inazuma boys + Zhongli and Xiao with a GN! Darling that has Newts Briefcase from fantastic beasts
Your blog looks beautiful btw
Awwe thank you so much!! <3 I hope you enjoy!
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃
{༻~Reader with a briefcase like Newts~༺}
CW: Fluffy and magical! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour)
(Includes: Lyney, Zhongli, Tighnari, Heizou, and Xiao!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Lyney:
Lyney obviously didn't know every magic trick in Teyvat, that would be almost impossible, but he did know quite a few of them and he could usually figure out how others were done fairly quickly, but how your suitcase managed to hold a whole boar, crystalflies of every element, and tens more animals, some of which he'd never seen before, was beyond anything even he could imagine.
You'd left him speechless, mouth agape as he stared at you in awe, "Mon amour, how is this possible? How are you doing that?" You blushed slightly, seeing the way his eyes shun like that of child's when they see something magic for the first time, "I can't tell, it's a secret, but you're welcome to use it for one of your shows, just make sure to feed the scorpions, they get angry otherwise and they aren't very nice when they're angry."
𑁍༄Zhongli:
Zhongli stared at your happy face, your arms extended outwards, being used as a perch for at least 10 exotic birds...all of which had appeared from your suitcase. Originally he had assumed this was only possible because the work of an adepti, but upon closer inspection he saw no signs of adeptal power, infact it seemed completely foreign to him...which only made him more curious.
"You say it can hold as many animals as the forests of Liyue? That's certainly a incredible feat...may I asked how you've acquired such a unique and interesting treasure?" He smiled slightly at you, hoping you'd clear up the mysterious nature behind the briefcase, but you simply chuckled, "One day I'll tell you, but for now it would be far more fun to keep it a secret~"
𑁍༄Tighnari:
Tighnari was sitting in front of your suitcase with his eyes glued to it like at any moment it could actually explode, not because it was somehow holding more animals than he even knew of, but from the sheer amount power such a item would have to have. In all of his days of studying at the akademiya and traveling to other lands in search of new plant varieties, he'd never seen anything like it. "Does it contains exotic plants as well? Do each of the animals have their own ecosystems? If you shut the suitcase for to long does the oxygen run out or does the suit case somehow supply oxygen? Have you ever tried to go in the suit case?"
Your eyes widened at his many questions, more and more spilling from his lips before he could stop himself...frazzling you slightly. You hadn't expected him to get so excited about it, but even with his never ending questions, it was absolutely adorable to see him this way. It was like he'd found a miracle and he wanted to learn everything about it with you.
𑁍༄Heizou:
Heizou stuck his head into your suitcase, trying to find clues as to how it worked, but the detective was more than just stumped, he was simply baffled as to how something like it could even exist. "You weren't joking when you said you wanted to show me something beyond my imagination. I've seen Onis with horns fight beetles and gods who can make the air actually buzz with emotion, but I don't think I've ever seen anything that has come close to the mystery behind this. Do you think you could live in it?"
"I suppose you could, but I'm not exactly sure. You could be the test subject if you'd like." You winked at him teasingly and he smiled up at you, almost like he was actually considering it for moment, "I think I prefer the scenery in the outside world, but we could always take a romantic vacation together inside the suitcase~" Your cheeks turned a scarlett red as he giggled at you quietly, if you teased him, it was only fair he teased back.
𑁍༄Xiao:
Xiao kneeled down, softly scratching the underside of a mora weasels chin, unbothered by the fact the animal had just run out of your suitcase along side a fairly massive boar. You actually seemed more surprised by his reaction than he did of your suitcase, "So what do you think hmm?"
"I think,...it reminds of the teapots us adepti sometimes use. They appear normal on the outside, but on the inside it's a island specifically designed with our comfort in mind, I've never seen a suitcase version before though.." His eyes met yours and your heart skipped a beat, you responded without even thinking and it flustered you to no end, "Do you have a teapot? May I see it if you do?"
"...I...don't have one, maybe, one day...we can make one together?"
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
◥(•̀₩•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧
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bones4thecats · 3 months
Text
What If They Were Fathers?
Type of Writing: #5 - Poll Result Characters: Bonten! Manjiro Sano, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Kakucho, and Hajime Kokonoi Name: What If They Were Fathers? Original Poll Link: Here
A/N: The Reader is FEMALE in this, since they're pregnant and whatnot.
WARNING! This contains: Mentions of drugs, overdoses, alcohol addiction, and drug addiction
Spoilers for: Bonten Arc
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🍵 It shocked Mikey enough that you still loved him even though he wasn't the same happy-go-lucky boy he was years ago, instead, he grew into a emotionless and dead-appearing individual
🍵 So, when he heard that you were pregnant, he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a small bit of love grow inside his now cold-heart
🍵 Mikey was very good when it came to caring for you during your pregnancy, he would have the others go get you things you needed, since he suspected someone was after him and you
🍵 After all, being pregnant slows down a woman from whooping ass
🍵 It was surprising, but, when you went into labor and you were yelling at him as he tried calming you down, Mikey stayed as calm as ever
🍵 He would slightly flinch at the loud screams of pain you let out, and he was honestly kinda scared he may lose you when the gang's doctor rushed you to lay down and stay calm
" Mr. Sano, sir, would you like to hold your baby? "
🍵 Looking behind him, he stared at his first child, a son, and he felt a shimmer of happiness and sadness rush through him at the same time, it reminded him of when he first met Emma, how he cared for her automatically without any reason
🍵 As he held your baby, he let a tear rush down his cheek as you chuckled at his small moment of vulnerability, something he swore he would never show was in-fact showing, he was still human inside
🍵 Now, while your son grew up, Mikey was a hint of a helicopter-father, he runs a very dangerous organization, one that is being hunted by authorities constantly, and he had enough to do when worrying about you, but, his son was so similar to younger him
🍵 The boy would run up to strangers and make them laugh without a care in the world as Mikey would hide himself deeper in a hoodie while you got your son back to you guys
🍵 But, despite many beliefs, he's a decent father
🍵 Mikey would put some things behind and would play with his son, for example, if his son wanted to mess around with some sock puppets and make a story, Mikey would indulge him and mess with him, making his voice deepen and rise for his son's laugh to erupt
🍵 He does have his faults though, as his work can end up making his son mature faster than a child should, or he could end up saying or doing something that upset you, making his son start disconnecting with him
🍵 Overall, he's a 7.5/10 father, he's good in certain situations and bad in others
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🔪 Sanzu and you have known one another for years, planting the first time you ever met nearly 10 years prior to this one
🔪 When he went through the years of torturous addictions, whether it be to alcohol or drugs that he somehow got a hold of through means even you didn't know of, you were always there to pull him away
🔪 Because of those issues, he had no idea why you settled for him of all people, you were so beautiful, you could've gotten with any other member of Bonten, maybe even his own boss
🔪 But, you settled with him, the guy who had nearly overdosed from his drugs and alcohol multiple times
🔪 While pushing those hateful thoughts of himself to the back of his brain, Sanzu had gone through multiple attempts of rehabilitation, and after a few failures and your threat of leaving him, he began taking it seriously, he loves you and he needs you to be there
🔪 It took a while, but, once he made it to your first milestone of a year of sobriety, you gave him a reward, which led to something bigger than expected
🔪 You had gotten pregnant, leaving Sanzu is shock, and his brain nearly, nearly, slipped away to him grabbing a large bottle of whiskey and wine mixed with a large bag of his old drugs
🔪 In the midst of his panic-attack, it took Kakucho's words of affirmation with his boss' assurance of him getting a form of paternity leave to just calm him down
🔪 He takes excellent care of you during your pregnancy, and that carried onto him as a father, to a degree, that is
🔪 When you went into labor, he was panicking badly, he had nearly passed out when you began to scream in pain, and during this mass of chaos, the doctor had to usher Ran and Rindou to take him out of the room
🔪 Hearing your screams of agony stop made his heart sink, what happened? Were you okay? How was his baby? Oh God, what if he lost you and the baby?! How would he live with himself?!
" Mr. Haruchiyo, your wife and daughter are in perfect condition. Would you like to come and see them? " " Yes! I- I mean, yes, please. "
🔪 When he held your daughter for the first time, he swore on his life he would protect you guys from everything, including himself. And, that day, he swore to stay sober for good. No fuck ups this time, he couldn't, no, he wouldn't risk harming his child and his own wife
🔪 Ever since your daughter was born, the rest of Bonten began to hide their deals from your home more often, by orders of Mikey, since, he knew how a traumatizing childhood can affect someone
🔪 Sanzu loves to play with her, for example, at just a few months old until she was around maybe seven years old, he would pick her up and toss her in the air for him to catch
🔪 Unlike Mikey, Sanzu doesn't really fear anyone harming his child, if they were a boy that is, he has a full-fledged belief that boys are far more feared than women, so, whenever his daughter starts talking to a stranger, he glares from behind her to make sure that random guy didn't even attempt touching her
🔪 He definitely tries holding back his tears during her first day of school, or really during any massive part of her life, especially when she graduated and moved out, his baby was so old now... he's getting back pain!
" Dad... I'm just moving across the street in another apartment, don't worry! I'll come see you and Mom whenever I can! Please don't cry! " " I'm not crying about that! Your Mother swat a fly earlier, I feel bad for the fly! "
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❤️‍🔥 This guy is the definition of husband and father material, that I cannot deny
❤️‍🔥 When you guys started dating, he always had the idea of your future, from marriage to having children, whenever he would come home from a fight all injured, he would ask you if this was what you really wanted
❤️‍🔥 Did you really want to be with him? For crying out loud, he could get possibly killed at any time! This especially set in when you guys lost Izana (I believe that still happens... correct me if I'm wrong!)
❤️‍🔥 It still shocks him to this day on the fact you married him, he worked for Bonten, a gang very well known for their heinous actions, all members, including Kakucho himself, have done horrible things, how could you look him in the eye, nonetheless propose having children?
❤️‍🔥 You really surprise him at every turn, don't you?
❤️‍🔥 He smiled and gave you the thumbs up. Thankfully, it didn't take very long for you to find out you were pregnant, and as your stomach grew, he read many books on parenthood, he couldn't risk his child having a childhood as rough as he did
❤️‍🔥 When you went into labor, he was scared out of his mind, all of a sudden the floor was wet and you were heaving over in pain, leaving him to carry you bridal-style as he ran to Bonten's doctor
" I think they're in labor, Doctor! " " Girls! Get her in the delivery room, stat! "
❤️‍🔥 Hearing you scream in pain made him flinch as Kokonoi and Takeomi tried keeping him from busting down the door to comfort you
❤️‍🔥 Once the doctor came outside of the room and asked for him to come inside, he burst past the man dressed in scrubs and hugged you as you laid on the bed with a blanket in your arms
❤️‍🔥 You hushed him and held up your baby girl's head, and when your husband laid eyes on his daughter, he began to tear up, he really started crying was when she gripped his finger with her tiny fist
❤️‍🔥 You guys really made this? How surprising is this, huh?
❤️‍🔥 As your son grew up, Kakucho adores messing with her hair, he always had his in a buzz-cut as he grew older, so, whenever she asked for him to braid her hair when she was small, he obliged and gave her such a cute hairstyle!
❤️‍🔥 Kakucho obligates his family in first place alongside his work, though, since he was one of the top four people in Bonten, he got quite busy, but, he always tries pushing it all away as best as he could
❤️‍🔥 Thankfully, Mikey was more lenient with that since he knew of Kakucho's family-oriented life
❤️‍🔥 He is definitely one of the best fathers in the Tokyo Revengers Universe, he wants his child to grow up in a world where they feel wanted, and that roots deep with his own childhood
❤️‍🔥 This guy is also very protective, he's lost so many people, his best friend, Izana, for example
❤️‍🔥 Anyone tries harming his daughter, there will be hell to pay.
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💰 Kokonoi, much like Kakucho, is still surprised that you wanted to be with him, but, he's also surprised that he was still with you... he believed that after the loss of Akane that he would never love again
💰 Thankfully, when you came into his life during the earlier years of Bonten to help with some issues with relations between gangs, Kokonoi began to bond with you
💰 When he asked you to marry him after a few months of dating and a couple weeks of courting, he remembers exactly how you smiled when you confirmed you wanted the same as him
💰 Kokonoi has enough resources to care for his family, so, when you proposed having children, he wasn't very worried about expenses, this guy knows so many ways of making money that even the richest people in the world would be baffled
💰 He was very excited when you found out you were having a baby, nonetheless when it was found out to be twins
💰 During your early months of pregnancy, he would grab everything for female babies and male babies, since the gender was hard to tell until your fifth month
💰 This guy was on cloud nine when notified you were both genders
💰 Now he doesn't have to worry about Mikey being mad that he bought so much male and female items for these babies
💰 Anyways, when you eventually went into labor, Kokonoi was as calm as a butterfly on the outside, while on the inside he was like a swarm of angry geese, thoughts flying faster than the snitch in Harry Potter
💰 He stayed in the room with you, allowing you to squeeze his hand, despite the immense pain you were bringing to his hands, he probably was getting bruises from your hold
💰 When the sounds of your first baby's cries entered his ears, he swore he forgot all about the pain in his hands, but, when his daughter came out just a few minutes later, his heart swooned
💰 If you've seen Friends, you might be familiar when Frank Jr. ran out to the gang and was yelling about his first child's birth, oh yeah, he definitely does that
" Yes! We have the first one down! I cannot believe I have a son... oh God! I have a Hajime Jr.! " " Has your wife even agreed to that name, Kokonoi? " " Nope! "
💰 Kokonoi held his son, whom you had to turn down his ideas of naming him Hajime Jr., and you held your daughter, and you had to turn down him naming her Sanzu-ia, he loves pissing Sanzu off too much...
💰 As your babies grew up, Kokonoi spoiled them beyond belief, and you had to hold him back from doing something stupid, like buying a TV show because his little baby girl wanted to meet a character she loved
💰 While the two grew up, he, much like Sanzu, cries at mass events for them, but, unlike Sanzu, he doesn't try holding himself back from showing his emotions to his children, prompting their embarrassment and you laughing at their antics
" Dad... please stop crying, God you're so embarrassing me... " " I can't! My babies are growing up so fast! Can you believe that just eighteen years ago you're mother was pushing you out of her- " " DAD! "
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Text
They're Mates - with Y/N
Summary - Feyre meets Rhys's Inner Circle and witnesses the strength of the mating bond.
Warnings - abusive family mentioned.
Other Notes - 1k words; Please note that most of these lines/plot points are inspired or directly quoted from ACOMAF; I originally posted this where Reader was given the name 'Vee' but am putting this one out for anyone who might prefer y/n.
Part Two
✨💫
Feyre looked up to see the same two males from earlier standing in the doorway, grinning, and a new presence. A beautiful female with wings like the others. She wore a deep blue gown that reached the floor––her hair resting over both her shoulders. The two males wore black leather with a sword strapped against their backs. Feyre noted the power each of them seemed to hold.
The male who was a bit large than the other, spoke up with a light chuckle. “We don’t bite. Unless you ask us to Feyre.”
The female shot him a pointed look. “Last time I checked, nobody wanted to take you up on that offer, Cassian.” The male who stood between the female and Cassian let out a light, short, laugh before whispering something into the female’s ear making her eyes twinkle subtly. Feyre watched as Cassian gave his own pointed look.
“No secrets in front of our guest, Az,” Cassian said with a grin.
The light danced across their faces allowing Feyre to observe their physical features for a moment. Similar to Rhysand, all three were dark-haired. Both males had tanned skin and hazel eyes. Feyre couldn’t quite tell the eye color of the female standing next to Az, but she gave off an air of beauty and power.
Cassian grinned again, looking Rhys and Feyre up and down. “You made poor Feyre dress up, brother,” he said before winking in her direction. His features were rough like someone had molded him, from the earth.
The second male was more classically beautiful, though hard to read. He was certainly the one who would be a surprise in the dark, the hidden knife. Feyre noticed the light sparkle in his eyes anytime he looked at the female to his left. It piqued a curiosity in Feyre.
Rhys said, “Azriel––my spymaster,” indicating the one in the middle. He then indicated the female. “Y/N. An emissary for the Night Court.” A name, Feyre later learned, Az had adopted for the emissary after she declared she did not want the name her abusive family had given her.
She immediately offered her hand with a warm smile. “Welcome, Feyre.” She gently squeezed Feyre’s before she quickly let go and Feyre does her best to not seem eager as she stepped back to stand next to the High Lord of the night Court, again.
“You’re brothers?” Feyre asked. The two males before her looked similar. The kind of similar where people who come from the same place do, not familial similar.
“All bastards are brothers in some sense,” Rhys responded, sticking his hands in his pockets.
Before Feyre could ask Cassian said, “And I command Rhys’s armies.”
Feyre nodded, shifting on her feet slightly before her eyes glanced to see Azriel taking another glance in the emissary’s direction. She looked right back with a smile that showed a clear fondness for the spymaster. The moment went as quickly as it came when Az turned his gaze to Feyre. “Cassian also excels at pissing everyone off. Especially amongst our friends. So, as a friend of Rhysand, good luck.”
Feyre was giving more attention to not being recognized as the girl Under the Mountain. She wondered, for just a moment if they knew––maybe they didn’t. That was quickly  answered when Cassian nudged past the Night Court’s spymaster requiring Az to flare his wings to keep himself balanced. Feyre watched Y/N’s hand fall to Azriel’s lower back to assist. Feyre noticed the fleeting moment of eye contact between the spymaster and the emissary, but it quickly became a second thought as Cassian asked his question about how Feyre had made the bone ladder in the Middengard Wyrm’s lair, when as he put it, “you looked like your own bones could snap at any moment.”
Y/N shot Cassian another pointed gaze, but it turned into a grin after Feyre made a sarcastic comment of her own. The general laughed and Azriel’s eyebrow lifted with approval as the shadows swirled around him, tighter. Feyre’s need to understand the gift only furthered when the shadows swirled up and around Y/N’s wrist playfully, before weaving around the ends of her hair.
Her curiosity once again was pushed to the side when Feyre heard, thankfully, a familiar voice…Mor. “I hope Cassian’s howling means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth.”
Y/N quickly whispered something into Az’s ear, his shadows lightened slightly from around him. Feyre’s curiosity about the nature of their relationship increasing.
“I don’t know why I forget you two are related,” Cassian told Mor, while glancing over at Rhys for just a moment. “You two and your clothing.” The High Lord rolled his eyes, but Feyre had her own focus on the emissary and the spymaster who were both standing in silence, stealing glances at each other.
“I wanted to impress Feyre. You could have tried to make an effort to comb your hair,” Mor responded.
Cassian braced his feet a little farther apart on the floor in a fighting stance Feyre recognized, perhaps too well. “Unlike some people, I have better things to do with my time than sit in front of the mirror for hours,” the general bit back.
“Yes,” Mor the said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “since swaggering around––”
“We have company,” Azriel said in a soft warning, spreading his wings as he tried to herd everyone.
“Relax, Az,” Mor said as she dodged the spymaster’s outstretched wing. “We won’t fight. We promised Rhys.”
Feyre barely noticed Az stop in his tracks, letting out the smallest of huff and his shadows seem to become thicker. She then watched as Y/N took one of Az’s hands in her own, gently pressing her lips to the back of it. His shadows lightened around him. Apparently the question about their relationship reached Feyre’s face because Rhys leaned down slightly to say, “They’re mates. Azriel and Y/N. They’ve known each other a little over 500 years and been mates just under 500.”
Feyre considered that fact, thinking there was something delicately beautiful about nearly 500 years of commitment between the two. Now she just had a few thousand more questions about the court’s spymaster and emissary. Question she decided were for another time as Mor indicated the empty seat beside her. Feyre knew the image of Az whispering into his mate’s ear and the twinkle in her eye would be etched into the back of her mind forever.
857 notes · View notes
fungal-rot · 5 days
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Surrender
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okay so i've been seeing those tiktok ads about that Pure-Instinct perfume and I had A Thot- it was originally supposed to go a different route, but i kinda went everywhere with this LOL.
summary: no outbreak; you bought a new perfume, one that's supposed to entice the opposite sex. but just how well does it actually work?
warnings: MDNI- smut (unprotected p-in-v), joel being a bit of a horndog, semi-desperate sex, oral (f receiving), use of 'good girl' and pet names (darlin', baby, pretty girl, honey), a bit of bulge riding, slight dom!joel, established relationship, no age specification for reader- lemme know if i forgot anything! - also please note i’m getting back into writing. i’m a lil rusty and still getting back into the flow of things; apologies for any mistakes.
w.c.: 2.7k
    ⁺˚°。⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆。°˚⁺
All over the internet you've come across different videos advertising some 'pheromone perfume-' a blend of essential oils that are meant to work with your own natural scent, enhancing your body's pheromones- or something of the sort. Seeing the men become infatuated with their girlfriends and wives, clinging to them with lust-blown pupils certainly had your interest piqued.
After an- albeit, quick- internal debate with yourself, you bit the bullet and looked up the seller's site, coming across different smells like 'Crave,' 'Lucky,' 'Fallen-'
And 'Surrender.'
Sounds sexy. With a smirk you click on it, reading the description,
'Surrender has a sophisticated and mature scent which designed for the woman who wants to feel confident, beautiful, and sensual. Own any room you enter in. You won't just be noticed — you'll make heads turn. Sexy, but not vulgar.'
Sounds dominant.
There were different layers of notes, like magnolia, mandarin, vanilla, sandalwood; the list went on. Seemed like a good choice. You were about to add it to your cart, finger hovering over the button, but then you hesitated. Did you really need this? Was it that important to find out if it was worth the hype? To see if Joel would be unable to tear himself away from you, kissing you hungrily while ripping your clothes off an-
Added to your cart!
It was for science.
You even opted to pay extra for express shipping, heart racing with a giddy bite of your lip.
The day it arrived, you were practically bouncing on your feet with glee. Joel was at work, wouldn't be home for another hour or so. That meant you had plenty of time to get things together and play around with it.
Taking a quick shower then pulling a low cut shirt over your head and shimmying a pair of leggings on, you grabbed your little container of liquid-luck, rolling it over your heat points; a little between your breasts, behind your ears, along the crook of your neck, wrists, and fold of your arms. It definitely smelled alluring upon first apply. Now to let it dry and wait.
-
Keys jingled outside the door, the knob twisting a few times before the entrance swung open followed by a rather exhausted looking Joel Miller who stumbled through. The man heaved a heavy sigh as he tossed his keys into the dish and toed of his shoes before padding to the couch where you sat, pushing your cuticles back as you watched a rerun of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer.
"Hi, sugar," you greet, flicking your eyes to him as he flopped down, making you bounce softly. His hair was damp with sweat from being out in the hot Texas sun all day, thick veins protruding from his work-callused hands, trailing up his arm.
"Hm," he grunted in reply and placed his palms over his eyes as he leaned against the back of the couch, chest expanding with a deep breath only to falter for a split second. Joel took in another breath, this one loud and deliberate. With hands lowering from his face, he turned his head to you, slowly, with knit brows.
"D'ya smell that?" He asked, sniffing again with a curious glance of the room.
Now, you had to play this right. You couldn't just outright tell him you bought perfume that would have him slobbering all over you, no. That would defeat the purpose of your little experiment.
So instead you played coy and sniffed at the air just as he did, nose turning up with a gentle shake of your head and small bob of your shoulders.
"I don't smell anything."
He nods slowly, eyes narrowing with a slight slack of his jaw, tongue poking through the side of his teeth while he studied you.
"You don't smell that?" Joel pressed further, almost exasperatedly.
"Smell what, Joel?" A quiet titter sounded with your words, brows arching as an amused grin toyed at your lips.
"Jus'..." Joel trailed off, wetting his lip with a quick swipe of his tongue. The scent wasn't too overbearing. It was sweet, musky, and a hint of something so conversant. Something that always managed to get him hot under the collar. A heat that not even the dry summers he endured on a frequent basis could compare to.
That's when you leaned over him- totally not at all planned- reaching an arm past to grab one of the magazines on the end table. Joel drew another quick breath and it hit him. Before you could retreat he snatched your wrist with a tight grip, pupils dilated widely with parted lips. " 'S' you..." He murmured, attention solely on you and you alone.
The corner of your mouth twitched up into a smug smirk, "Is it?" You hushed back, feeling goosebumps erupt across your skin as he pressed a kiss to your inner wrist, slowly trailing up your arm and to your shoulder. A curt chuckle sounded from his chest as his own lips turned up. "Mm, I think so, baby," Now his lips danced on the crook of your neck, taking another whiff.
'Oh, fuck, that's good.' He thought, emitting a low growl.
"Yeah..." He purred, teeth grazing over your pulse point and eliciting a quiet moan from you, "that's alllll you, darlin'."
Hell, if Joel was tired before, he was certainly up now- in more ways than one.
"C'mere, pretty girl," He muttered and sat back, legs spread as he motioned two fingers in your direction. He watched with hungry intent as you crawled into his lap, thighs straddling his. Joel pawed at your hips, rolling them forward against the bulge straining in the confinements of his jeans with a grunt.
"Got me so damn hard an' ya haven't even done anything," With another forced roll, he throws his head back with a sigh. "Ride." He ordered with a strained voice, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. You didn't move just yet, however, and took in the sight of him; eyes shut and brows knitted softly, plush lips parted.
"Ride," Joel repeated with a firm smack to the meat of your ass, making you yelp and rut against him once more. You could feel the warm thickness of his cramped length through the thin cloth of your leggings, each continuous grind against your clit made you writhe in pleasure.
Good god, you were doing a number on him. He bucked his hips up in time with yours, panting faintly before sitting up and wrapping his thick, strong arms around your body.
Joel buried his nose into your neck again, allowing your enticing scent to flood his mind. His stomach tightened, and he had to pull you off his lap before he came in his underwear like a damn teen. You whine at the loss of friction, expression forming a soft pout as he laid you down, head against the armrest.
"I know, baby, I know," Joel cooed and tenderly cupped your jaw, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, " 'M gonna take care'a ya." He leaned down and planted a quick peck to the side of your nose.
"Always do, don't I?"
The man lowered himself down your body, hands stopping to caress and grab every now and then before slipping his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, swiftly tugging them down and watched as a string of arousal pulled, connecting the fabric to your lips. He smirked, relishing the fact you were just as turned on as he was, but what really caught his attention was-
"No panties?" He quirked a brow, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face as he continued shimmying you out of your pants. "Y'had this planned, didn't ya?"
You chuckled, biting your lip meekly and avert your gaze. Whoops! Caught.
"So, what is it?" He asked, curling a leg into the couch as the other planted on the floor, his head dipping to your center and placed an open-mouthed kiss to the inner crease of your hip.
"Surrender," You answered breathily, peering down at him as continued lavishing you with loving smooches and pecks, his wiry facial hair scratching at your body that only fanned the flames in your tummy.
His brows drew together with a vague frown as he lifted his head, "Whaddya think I'm tryin' ta do right now?"
Even though his words made you clench around nothing, you still couldn't help but laugh and bring a hand to your mouth to stop yourself. With a shake of your head you say, "No, dummy. I mean, that's the name of the perfume I bought."
Joel tilted his head back in a slight nod, uttering a soft 'Ohhh.'
"I dunno how I was s'posed ta know that," his head lowered once more, breath fanning over your wet heat and flicked his eyes to meet yours, "but it's fitting."
He didn't even give you a chance to process what he said before diving straight into your folds, tongue lapping over every crevice and drinking you down.
"O-oh, fu-fuck!" You breathed out, thighs instinctively closing around his head as your hand grasped at his sweat-matted brown hair.
He growled into your cunt, bracing his hands on either side of the soft, pillowy flesh of your legs and forcing you open again. Normally, Joel loved using them as his own personal pair of earmuffs, but now? He wanted you spread for him, needed it actually. He'd drown in you if he could, and by god he'd willingly die trying.
His mouth detached for a moment, just long enough for him to stick out his tongue and let a string of drool fall over your labia, watching with a satisfied smirk as it slid down to your entrance. Snaking a hand from under your thigh, he brought two fingers to your clit, brushing the pads of them over it with teasing glides. Your hips twitched and bucked with a soft mewl leaving your throat.
Joel dragged his bottom lip between his teeth before lowering his fingers. Down, down, then circling at your hole and slowly pushing in. A sharp gasp ripped from your chest, back arching as you finally got that stretch; so achingly sweet.
His cock twitched at the sound, begging to be let free and seek shelter deep inside your pussy. He had enough restraint (for now) to get you off first.
And they say chivalry is dead...
He latched his mouth back onto you, slurping obscenely as he licked his way up, fingers curling into the spongy spot of your canal.
"Jo- oh- el!" You cried his name brokenly, hand closing a tight fist into his hair with a tug. You could feel the fucker- no pun intended- smirk against you as he pumped his fingers in and out, picking up the pace as he suckled on the sensitive button. Your whines grew more relentless, hips rolling against the flat of his tongue and holding his head in place as the coil in your stomach began to tighten.
Joel felt you clench around his fingers and took that, along with the way you fervently bumped against the bridge of his nose, as a sign you were close. With a wince he reached his free hand to his jeans, fumbling with the button before sliding the fly down, reaching in and finally pulling out his hard cock.
Said hand went back to its rightful place against your thigh while he rutted against the cushions, pre-cum making a mess into the leather.
"C'mon, darlin'," He murmured, taking a quick glance at you and reveled in the sight of your flushed cheeks, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back against the arm rest. "Give it t'me, cum around my fingers." You didn't need to be told twice. In an instant, that coil snapped. Your legs trembled and shook as your climax ripped through your body, eyes snapping open and mouth agape, but no sound came out other than a few breathy whimpers.
"Good girl," Joel praised, still subtly grinding against the couch, desperate for his own release. "Good fuckin' girl." You had made a complete mess of his hand, your spend dripping down his fingers, into his palm and down his wrist, dribbling onto the sofa.
After your body relaxed, hand releasing the harsh grip from his hair, Joel pulled his fingers from you, making a shudder run up your spine. He sat back on his haunches, pushing his hand to your mouth and said, "Open."
Complying happily in your blissed-out state, your jaw slacked, allowing him to slide his soaked fingers into you warm mouth, palming himself with his other hand while he watched your lips close around the digits, feeling your tongue lick and clean your slick off them.
With a satisfied hum, he removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, greedily shoving his way past your teeth and licking the roof of your mouth.
Joel backed away, staring deep into your eyes. He huffed, pulling his pants down further, stepping out of one leg. He was so fucking horny and desperate right now he wasn't going to bother with the other one. This would do just fine.
"Need t'fuck you, baby," He spoke in a hushed tone, and without further warning he grabbed your leg and hooked it around his waist just before sliding right in with ease.
The two of you moan in unison. Either he was fucking huge- spoiler, he was- or you were really fucking tight.
Joel collapsed, a hand splayed next to your head to catch himself so he wouldn't fall directly on top of you as he bared his teeth with a hiss.
"Chris' onna damn bike," He slurred, gently lowering himself further and snaking an arm under you as he lazily thrusted into you.
He glanced down to where you two met, watching as he delved in further, "She's jus' swallowin' me in."
An aquiline nose sought out your neck, the sound of Joel consuming your scent filled your ears once more. He simply couldn't get enough. Hips snapped against yours incessantly, skin against skin bouncing off the walls and drowning out the sound of the tv in the background.
The man above reached a hand under your shirt, groping and squeezing your tit as he lowered his forehead to yours, half-lidded eyes boring into yours intently.
"Fuck," He muttered, eyes widening, hips stuttering, "Fuck, 'm close." Joel was a little ashamed of himself. He couldn't remember the last time he made it to the finish line so quickly.
He was quick to remove his hand from under your shirt, finger dipping to the spot where his cock pumped in and out, collecting your slick before sliding it up to your puffy clit yet again.
"Y'think you can gimme another'n, honey?"
"Y-yeah," You nod, feeling that familiar flame lick up your spine. "Wanna cum on your cock."
Joel's lip curled into a snarl at your admission, eyes rolling back before fluttering shut. His movements blundered, then he pulled out, leaving just the tip slotted in your entrance.
"Please," he whined. Whined.
That fucking did it. Your body tightened for the second time this evening, eager to let go and milk Joel of every last drop he had to offer.
"I'm c-" He interjected with a slam of his hips, making you see stars as he fucked you through your orgasm, the head of his dick tapping your cervix as he pushed himself as deep as he could, jerking into you almost feverishly. Your name fell off his tongue like a mantra while he held you flush against him, your back peeling off the leather with arms wrapped around his back as you nestled your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the musky, sweaty scent of him- your personal favorite brand of 'pheromone perfume' he wears.
After his body lightened, he turned his head and placed a listless, yet tender kiss to your temple. You made a move to crawl away, but that made his grip on you tighten.
"Not yet," he spoke lowly and leaned back, pulling you with him. "Wanna stay like this. Jus' for a minute."
His hand smoothed back your hair, the two of you laid there in silence to catch your breath. After a good ten minutes or so, you lift your head to peek at him, "So, I take it you liked the perfume?"
Joel offered a lopsided smile, rolling his head to the side with a swallow, "Loved it, darlin'."
You'd have to remember to buy more in the future.
⁺˚°。⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆。°˚⁺
hi, hello, thank you for reading. as stated above, i’m still basically re-learning to write. i’m trying to get in the hang of properly pacing out the story, not too rushed but not too wordy either. feedback is appreciated! pls feel free to interact with a reblog or comment <3
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doobean · 7 days
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ROMAN HOLIDAY ─ NAGI S.
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synopsis: Nagi Seishiro has a plethora of secrets up his sleeves. He knows that Reo loves being in the center of attention—well, no, that's a fact. But one thing that Nagi knows for sure is that the Mikage Corporation is on the verge of filing for bankruptcy. And what better way to prevent that than to have an arranged marriage with another powerful company? You're intelligent, beautiful, and obedient. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't take long for Reo to fall for you, and you seem to be content with everything—at least, you pretend to be. Nagi knows you're head over heels for his best friend, but doesn't understand why you hate his guts.
contents: explicit content, afab!fem!reader, bathroom sex, kinda cheating/kinda not really, piss involved towards the end, dubcon, hate sex, nagi centric, reader comes from an affluent family, power/dominance play, frottage, descriptors of a curvy, busty reader, breast play/nipple play, facials word count: 4.8k a/n: this fic is for all the nagi haters out there ig @niitoshi + @pipppinn (u get a rest from beta reading ur enemy)
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You’re an absolute menace. 
Nagi had no clue, when his best friend had introduced you as his potential fiancee months ago, just how big of an impact it was going to have on his life. In most cases of Nagi’s lack of social life, he originally had no intentions of befriending you, at least, outside of introductions and shorthand greetings whenever he crashed over at Reo’s apartment. To him, it didn’t make sense to get close to you, even if you were going to be a major part of Reo’s life. 
Unlike his best friend, you appeared reserved and uptight, much like all the other affluent students he surrounded himself with back in high school and university. Nagi thinks he’s only received one ‘hello’ from you, and that was just from the first meeting. You’ve always attached yourself to Reo, whenever he’s around, and Reo would somehow play it off as you’re just “shy” around others.
“Don’t take it the wrong way,” Reo had assured him with a firm shoulder clasp. “She’ll eventually warm up to you.”
And while Nagi still has a hard time believing that, he didn’t feel the need to continue the conversation knowing that Reo wouldn’t get the hint. You don’t flaunt your wealth and status around, but Nagi has always sensed that you were looking down on him. Why else would you always stare at him?
You come from a family of ‘self made’ entrepreneurs and billionaires. 
From all those last minute conferences meetings that Reo would have him attend, simply because his best friend would lose track of time whenever they’re together, Nagi knows that your father owns a famous construction company that’s somehow affiliated with the Mikage estate. From one shareholders’ meeting, he’s learned that your family owns 60% of all rental properties in Japan, and he doesn’t know if that’s something to be proud of. Coming from a semi-wealthy family himself, Nagi is well aware that there’s no such thing as an ethical billionaire.
He’s seen your family name plastered on billboards before, shining over the neighborhoods in Akihabara, and the company sounded impressive enough that Reo’s father didn’t hesitate to bring up the topic of marriage during a conversation about future prospects. 
Reo didn’t seem to mind, or rather he tried really, really hard to mask any trace of anxiousness and annoyance when he signed the NDA papers. Nobody wants to be in a loveless, arranged marriage, after all. Especially not when they still have their whole youth ahead of them. Though, needless to say, Reo fell for you rather quickly. Nagi’s aware he’s not the best at expressing his emotions, but anyone with a sensible brain could obviously tell you’re the standard stereotype of “wifey material”.
Quiet. Intelligent. Extremely obedient to the seniors around you. Nevermind the fact that your behavior reflects your style as well. Your makeup never strays from being “too little” or “too much”. The outfits you wear always reminded Nagi of those old British dramas from the late 90s, he thinks Reo calls it “old money” fashion. Whatever that means. 
He just knows that it’s classy and fits whatever housewife aesthetic you’re trying to go for. Even though he can easily see through how much you hate it. You’re always picking at the threads in annoyance, as if they’re tight, itchy, and alien on your body. Even when he watches your pretty, plump lips smile and nod towards everyone around you, you always quickly turn sour when you think no one’s watching. 
At age twenty four, Nagi carefully watches his best friend enter the room with you wrapped around his arm, from the corner of the banquet hall. Today’s a celebration, a huge one, because Reo just completed his accelerated MBA program and, therefore, is one day closer to filling in his father’s shoes as CEO of the Mikage Corporation. This also means he’s one step closer to becoming a married man. Soon, you’re going to be a permanent fixture in Reo’s life. That thought alone had his tongue swelling up in his mouth, and urged himself to get it together.
The event ends up being treated like a work gala. Everyone is dressed in black tie, the smell of warm leather fills the air, Nagi only half understands the business jargon being thrown around, and the food looks rather bland for what it’s worth. Most of the guests are crowded around Reo and his father, and he can only assume the business executives are trying to wiggle their way in to just get a chunk of free shares. 
He notices you standing to the side, in the midst of your own conversation with your father. Your outfit throws Nagi off, slightly. It’s certainly different from your previous choices, more modern and form fitting, highlighting certain assets that makes it slightly even more obvious why certain men in the room couldn't stop their gawking.
Somehow, even though you’re caught up in a seemingly heated conversation on the other side of the room, Nagi catches your stare. Your eyes, facial expression, and even aura feels uncomfortably blank, despite the small smile you force out. 
He merely awkwardly waves back and, for whatever reason, you take that as a sign to make your way over. He can only groan inwardly as he watches you exit out your current conversation and thread gracefully through the stuffy crowd, somehow showing up with two empty wine glasses in hand. Originally, his plan was to just show up for the free food, say hi to Reo, then prepare an Irish exit. With the look you’re currently giving him, Nagi feels like he can’t plan an escape. 
You turn around and reach for a bottle of wine on the bar cart, a brand that Nagi could never pronounce correctly despite the numerous times that he’s heard it leave from Reo’s mouth. It’s also the same imported wine from France that all three of you shared the day Reo had introduced you to him. From what Nagi remembers, it didn’t leave a good taste. 
You end up pouring the two glasses, then whirl back around to face him, quickly setting the drink down by the end table. Nagi picks up his glass as soon as it's available, but you clink yours against it before he could bring it up to his lips.
“Do you have a moment?” you mumble quietly.
“For what?” he’s honestly surprised to hear that many words coming from you.
“I…” you trail off, looking down into your drink and unconsciously hug your sides. Nagi uses this opportunity of silence to sip. Then, after a moment, you shake your head a little, clearly flustered over something. 
“I want to talk to you about Reo, about your friendship and me fitting into that. I’ve been thinking about it for a while but I haven’t had the chance to bring it up.”
Nagi just nods, sipping again, not sure if he’s pleased or disappointed by your response. Of course the very first thing you bring up after not speaking a word to him for months is about their friendship. 
He then notices that you’re suddenly rubbing your palms, hands alternating between them as you stretch your fingers out. You’re grimacing slightly, and Nagi leans back against the wall, something stirs inside of him at the sight of you appearing in distress. He’s not sure what to make of the odd feeling.
With a shrug, he tilts his head. “Go ahead with it.”
You meet his eyes and shake in disapproval, setting down your wine glass. “I need to speak with you in private about it.”
Nagi doesn’t say anything, and a moment of silence passes between you two as several high executives try to usher the rest of the crowd to the next room for an unrelated conference meeting. At one point, a clientele calls you over for a drink, and you disappear to join him for one, leaving Nagi to stew in his own thoughts once more.
A part of him wants to go over to Reo, telling him what happened, why you’re suddenly being so vague and direct with him after all this time. However, with one glance at his best friend, who’s currently knee-deep in a conversation between his father, the idea dies out. He’s never seen Reo this relaxed and determined before. 
Maybe the closest expression he shared was when they were both heavily sprawled out on the turf field after an intense football match back in high school, but even then Nagi doesn’t even think he’s seen Reo this content. He wants to believe that you’re simply just asking about potential wedding details, maybe to even join in on the planning, but that’s laughable. You seemed nervous, and not for the right reasons.
He shouldn’t be here, glass half empty, stomach barely full from all these damn healthy finger foods, sitting under the appraising and curious eyes from other businessmen and yourself. 
“Nagi, an answer?” you probe, as if hearing his thoughts when you finally return. 
Were you always this demanding? He shifts in place and adjusts the collar of his suit, and tries his best to sound unaffected. “Right now?”
You finally smile, and it lights up your entire face. “Right now.”
At that, Nagi downs the rest of his drink.
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You eventually coax him to an empty hallway, down the corner next to the fire escape, while everyone else is preoccupied with the meeting. You kept reiterating that it’ll be quick, that Nagi will understand what’s the “problem”, but he doesn’t believe it one bit. Not when you’re squeezing both sides of your arms and keep glancing down the hallway, anxious to be seen.
Without warning, you blurt out, “Please, stop dragging down Reo. I want you out of his life.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, yet is drenched with anxiety and the barest edge of vexation. 
“What?” Nagi can’t help but be offended. The reluctance on your tongue contradicts the harsh order. 
“I’ve seen the way he talks to you. You’re a distraction to him and having you around will just—”
“He can say what he wants about me. Why do you care so much? Your only job is to sit by his side.”
“Nagi, please—”
“Forget it,” he can’t seem to find an answer to your demand. It doesn’t make sense, and even if he did make out an answer, his brain is currently too distorted and torn to process a coherent response. 
You stand your ground and the next few words are fumbling over the other, “I’ve… never liked you since the day I met you.” 
That doesn’t surprise him. You aren’t much of a talker, but then again, neither is he. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re currently having an unusual personality shift—almost as if you’re revealing a bit of truth about yourself to him, and only him. Reo probably doesn’t know that this side of you exists. 
Nagi doesn’t bother to respond. He only rests his back against the bathroom door behind him, crossing his arms over his chest in irritation, and stares down at you. In that moment, he can see the raw edge of your bubbling… is it anger he’s sensing? Your body is filled with tension and he can’t imagine why. Your eyes are boring into his and refusing to let go.
Suddenly, Nagi feels his frustrations growing thicker. 
“You don’t know anything about me.”
You step closer, eyes narrowing, yet you look conflicted. “I could say the same thing.” 
The proximity of you—the blend of sweat, bergamot, and something that could only be described as bitterness—makes Nagi dizzy. The space of this hallway, once ample, now feels suffocatingly small. 
“Nagi,” you seeth out, a plea that’s both sounding an invitation and surrender. “This is a business deal. If this doesn’t fall through it’ll look bad on us and—argh, I really need this to work out, okay?” You quickly clamp a hand over your mouth, as if surprised that the words flooded out.
It wasn’t much spilled, but he understands the gist of it. Your frantic explanation earns him a curt laugh, one that’s distinctly him. He almost feels sorry that you were forced to do this, all of this. But you could’ve also easily gone against it, too. “You can’t think for yourself, can you? This is why I can’t stand these heirs and heiresses, you’re all a bunch of hassles to be around.”
“Fuck you.” you’re cracking under pressure. The makeup, dress, your hair… The facade of being perfect and plain slowly comes crumbling down the longer Nagi stands there, unwavering. “I can think for myself.”
“Prove it.” His tone is a dangerous one, spoken with an even tone. 
You take another step forward, slow and purposeful. It serves as a reminder that your background is influential, powerful, and that you’re no puppet. Nagi wants to believe that more than you do. 
He would be doing himself a disservice if he hasn’t admitted that there’ve been nights where he does think about you. What life would be like if you haven’t given him the cold shoulder, times where he wishes he could understand all the hidden languages spoken between you and Reo, and if you would’ve treated him any differently.
So, Nagi’s command is framed as a tease, and knowing how you really are now, you’re not going to leave until you give him an answer. Nagi Seishiro hates the rich, hates dependent people even more, but he’s a good guy when he tries to be. You, on the other hand, might be ruining that for him.
He watches as your plump lips part, and a needy little sound escapes. It sounds like a damn moan that’s absolutely dripping in desperation. Nagi lets out a breath, feeling his insides liquefy and overflow. His cloudy eyes search your face, and the dark overcast over your eyes instantly hooks him in. He can see the wetness where your lips separate, and suddenly he’s overwhelmed with the desire to trap your mouth between his.
Nagi drops his hands to both sides of your face and holds your cheeks tight in the expanse of his calloused palms, drawing himself closer to you when he feels your hand latch onto his forearm. Your cheeks are warm and soft beneath his touch and, without a second thought, you both close the gap.
You gasp into his mouth as his lips claim yours with a hunger that leaves no room for hesitation, a heated urgency that clears any uncertainty. He feels your other hand shooting up and roughly tugging at his silver locks, a stark contrast to your passive actions earlier. His hands roam over your body, tracing and mapping your curves with extreme possessiveness. 
Nagi wants more. Wants your hands even lower, on his thighs, between his legs, wants your pretty lips wrapped around the base of his cock. He wants you, but not here. He wants to leave here with you, see where you live, do this on the comfort of your mattress, inhale the scent of your sheets, and rid your mind of his best friend and that damn business proposal.
“Excuse me? Is somebody there?”
You pull away first with a concealed string of curses by the intrusion, gasping for air as soon as you separated, the hand you have on his forearm is now trembling. Whether it's from excitement, fear, or a combination of the two—Nagi can’t tell.
He peers over to find a security officer patrolling around, radio in hand, at the end of the hallway. From this angle, where the corner curves slightly, it doesn't seem like he’s able to make the two of you out, at least for now. The last thing he wants is for the media to highlight why you were seen alone with him. He’s already got enough on his plate with professional football on its own. Kissing his best friend’s bride to be is something entirely different. He doesn’t want to wait around to find what might happen.
“Fuck, fuck, where should we—”
“Quit freaking out,” he pulls the handle behind him and tugs on your waist, ushering you inside the bathroom as the sounds of sharp loafers against marble creep closer. Bewilderment flashes across your face as he shuts the door and locks it. He ignores your swarm of questions and props you against the sink’s countertop in an instant. 
You appear terribly confused with yourself as he cages you in between his arms, his head leaning against yours with a dark look in his eyes. Your lipstick is smeared at the corner of your lips, your hair is nothing but a disheveled mess, and your damn breasts— Nagi looks down and scoffs —you're not wearing a bra. He soon realizes that this look suits you better than any other outfit you’ve worn. 
“What was that,” you try to say, but he quickly keeps your busy mouth occupied again. His fingers trail up your shoulder blades, easily slipping down the top half of your dress, and soon your breasts fall free — round, heavy, and soft. 
Your chest heaves as you breathe in sharply, tongue darting out to wet your lower lip. “You’re such a dick,” you shoot him a misty glare, defiant in tone despite every bit of your body language screaming submission.
This is enough to set him off. Nagi’s fingers curl into your waist, sighing in pleasure when you whine at his harried touch. He lifts you from the counter, your legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his waist, as he pushes your back against the door. The frame and his greedy palms on your fleshy ass serves as support as he begins to shamelessly grind against you, the needy, aching pressure from his arousal fights through his slacks. 
God, he wants to fuck you right into the door.
You moan into his shoulder when Nagi dives against your throat, swearing under his breath as he finally gets a taste of your intoxicating skin, a sound of pure lust vibrating throughout your bodies.
“Don’t tease me,” he warns with a groan.
“I’ll do what I want,” you bite back, jolting in pleasure when his tight erection probes against your thighs. 
Nagi decesends, his mouth leaving wet trails across your collarbones and down your chest until he stops at your breasts. Gently, his teeth grazes over one nipple, nipping at it until he hears a sharp hiss from above. Before you could chastise him, he captures your nipple in his mouth, sucking the stiff peak between his lips. He feels the dampness of your panties rubbing against the clothed tip, causing his tongue to twirl aggressively over the wrinkled flesh.
“Oh, fuck,” your mews are growing louder and louder in pitch. Nagi hopes that the security guard from earlier is long gone by now. He’s also certain that his dick might come bursting apart any second. But he’s not going to admit that, not to you of all people.
Seeing you crumble under his fingertips makes Nagi’s heart swell. He pulls back with a loud pop and closes the distance between your lips again, pressing hard so you can feel the urgency from the heat of his tongue.
“Need you,” he finds himself whispering against your lips, pressing his entire weight of upper body into yours.
You choke out another desperate sound and begin fumbling with his waistband, hands blindly searching to feel him, trying to prove and show that you can provide the same fervent pleasure and attention. You both sigh when Nagi feels his cock springing free, hard and leaking with copious amounts of pre. He carefully watches your movements, there’s hesitation and surprise glassed across your face as you gently wrap your fingers around his length. 
It barely makes the full circumference. 
“Scared?”
Then a shudder rumbles through Nagi’s frame as you begin stroking him. It takes everything in him to not rip your dress in two and fuck you right then and there, but he’s trying not to be eager, caging his bloodlust. But it’s hard. Hard when you pull him into a kiss that leaves him breathless and grinding against your palm. 
Nagi can’t stop himself from the way he crushes his lips against you, nor can he stop the way his tongue slips forward into your mouth, his hands squeezing the softness of your waist when you melt in his embrace, pressing those soft breasts against his blazer.
You break the kiss with a moan, and it’s so messy that he can see the tether of saliva that stretches between you two when you finally pull away. Your face looks even more dazed than before, and you squirm against him, sending a hot flare soaring throughout his body when your thumb brushes against his leaking tip. 
“Sensitive?” you mimic his teasing tone.
Nagi’s now positive that you’re trying to kill him. He’s known it before, from the first moment he’s laid eyes on you, but there’s no reasonable explanation for you to be so beautiful and sexy all at the same time. The way you’re teasing his bare cock, rubbing your wet, clothed cunt straight against it, is doing nothing but sending him straight into a tailspin.
The truth is, when you first approached him, the only thing that had been on his mind was getting to know you more, same as it has been for months now ever since he’s met you. Now, with your lips looking glazed and pouty as ever, he feels like he’s on cloud nine.
“Turn around,” he commands.
You stare at him with wide eyes, and Nagi sees your brain rewiring in real time whether or not to follow through with your stubbornness, but after a moment, you obey. You unclasp your legs around his waist and he gently sets your feet down, letting your body spin around so that your palms are flat against the door, back arched, and ass pressed against his length. The look you shoot across your shoulder stirs something inside of him, and he quickly takes you by the hips, pulling aside your soaked panties with ease. 
“Is this okay?” he doesn’t know why he’s asking right now, despite everything that’s happened within the past few minutes. 
Regardless, it’s meaningless to wait for your response; the wave of pleasure from the way he’s playing with your breasts from behind, to the warmth of your puffy entrance teasing the tip of his cock, has you unable to respond with anything other than a loud moan. Nagi takes this as an affirmative response, and angles his hips from behind, sucking in his teeth as he watches the entirety of his length being swallowed and hugged by your gummy walls.
The mirrors in the room have begun to fog up when he starts the initial movement. Nagi grabs a palmful of your ass, grasping and kneading them in a way that has you widening your legs to deeper access. Your soft whimpers and moans ring like a siren’s call in his ears, and he doesn’t quite understand how you’re able to control his body like this, but you’re squeezing him just right as if you’ve known him forever. 
Nagi shuts his eyes and easily begins to lose himself to this bliss. The tight, velvety walls are all too euphoric, making him easily forget that you’re both in a random bathroom in one of the biggest, extravagant conference halls in the country. A vivid grunt escapes from his mouth as his shaky hands maneuver up to your hips, guiding them in a circular motion as the fat of your ass ripples from every thrust he spears into you.
“Fuck,” he pants out. “Just like that…”
But the rough, muffled sounds of sex in the room shatters as a knock pierces through the air. 
Your fingers, splayed across the door, come together close and form into fists as he watches you struggle to catch your breath. After a moment of silence, a tender murmur breeches the stillness. 
It’s Reo, and his call for you is automatically fear inducing. Nagi feels you clamping up more than ever.
“—are you in there?” he repeats through the door’s barrier. 
Panic flicks across your features and you scramble for composure, frantically pulling up the top half of the dress and craning your neck around to gawk at Nagi, wondering if he has any clue on what to say, or do. Little do you know, Nagi has absolutely zero plausible answers.
“It’s okay,” he leans down and nips your shoulder blades. “Just stay like this.” 
A sweet whimper exits from you as he continues his thrusts, slower and shallower. “A-Are you insane?! He’s going to know it’s us…!”
You’re afraid, intimidated by the position that you’re both in, but Nagi kisses you again and engulfs your hand with his. He offers a comforting squeeze before dining in the pleasure of the tip of your tongues touching.
“Stay quiet and he’ll eventually go away,” what is he even saying right now? He’s not being fair to Reo, but somehow there’s hardly any guilt flowing through his veins. 
His best friend, your future husband, faintly calls your name again. This time with more uncertainty. There’s nothing but stillness on either side of the wooden barrier, where neither of you are willingly to slip out a sound. Nagi just rests his head on the side of your neck, letting the sweat from his bangs seep down, as he focuses on your steady breaths while having to control his own. If it weren’t for Reo on the other side, he would’ve fallen asleep just by the rhythm of your heartbeat. 
Another agonizing moment of silence passes before Reo mumbles out an apology, saying that he’s got the wrong person, and retreats. The sounds of heavy heels from his loafers hitting against the floor burns deep into both of your memories. 
By the time he’s gone, Nagi doesn’t waste any time and throttles against a spot inside of you that has you squealing like an animal. 
Pulling his hands away from yours, he brings them up to your chest, teasing your nipples while you throw your ass back against him, fucking as hard as you possibly can. He feels you drifting far away, bringing yourself closer and closer on his length, and a tight familiar coil begins building inside of his core.
Suddenly, you try to pull away, stumbling over your next words, “W-Wait, stop, I feel like I have to go—!” 
Nagi huffs and readjusts his grip around your waist, snuggling his cock deeper, “Then go, what’s stopping you, heiress?”
“I’m being serious…!”
Lowering his mouth to your ear, he whispers, “And so am I.”
He doesn’t care. Nagi positions his hand lower, keeping the other arm wrapped tightly around your waist, and his long, callous fingers pull your folds up, applying pressure against your full bladder. Vibrations of your whines send him to set a wicked pace until you’re creaming white around the base of his cock. The wet sounds, your moans, and the sloppy grip—it’s all too much, too exhilarating for him.
“Have to be patient…” Nagi murmurs, but his words are starting to jumble. Heat gathers and twists throughout his stomach and he winces, trying to not cum all in an instant. 
Your voice is nothing but all breathy moans, puffs of air rushing all around, and you mumble something unintelligible, but it’s all the confirmation Nagi needs. He shudders when he feels the warm wetness finally spill from your pussy as you climax at the same time. Your lewd moans are buried deep into your shoulder, and the sound is forever imprinted in his mind. He feels thousands of sparks ignite between his thighs at that saccharine note.
Nagi relishes in the warmth, until he finds his own release and pulls out, cumming all over the front of your chest, and even striking the bottom of your chin. He leans back with a gasp, gripping the sink counter for balance, his heart thundering as the bliss ebbs away entire chunks of his brain. Slowly, the haziness begins to fade, and Nagi tucks his throbbing cock away, reminding himself that he’s in a restroom of all places. 
“Fuck…”
Suddenly, Nagi hears you crying for his name and sees your entire body shaking, trying to calm down from the high of your orgasm. Wet, fat tears are streaming down your face, but he wraps one arm around the front of your body, pinning you against him. You’re both breathing heavily, covered in the sticky warmth and heavy sweat, but the feeling of your racing heartbeat is soothing him. 
Nagi holds you tight, letting his fingers get caught in your damp hair.
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© 2023 DOOBEAN. do not copy any of my writing and translate/repost.
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after-witch · 9 months
Text
Late Night Break In [Yandere Uvogin x Reader]
Title: Late Night Break In [Yandere Uvogin x Reader]
Synopsis: You never expected to find your soulmate. After all, it’s not like there were lots of people named “Uvogin” out there.
Word count: 3000ish
notes: yandere, soulmate AU, breaking and entering
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Another Friday night alone. 
But it’s okay. You won’t wallow in self-pity and think about the couples who were out and about the city on romantic dates, or snuggled up on the couch prepping for a night of passionate (or not so passionate, depending on the strength of their relationship) sex. 
Life’s too short to wallow. And it’s not like you were exactly alone.
You’ve got your movie collection and your antique figurines and your latest purchase, a vintage sofa with restored upholstery that means you get the benefit of the original aesthetic without the downside of years of stains, rips, and potential bed bugs. 
And you have friends. Maybe you don’t see them very often, admittedly because you got tired of being asked when you were going to find your soul mate, whether or not you’d consulted a searching service to find them, if you were interested in one of them paying for the service if you didn’t have the money…
Sure, some people might get a little lonely without their soulmate. Someone who you were meant to be with forever and ever, until one or both of you died. And your coworkers who’d long since found their soul mates or who were actively searching day-after day (usually using those paid services that were perfect for such things--not that you wanted to spend your money on that) sometimes looked at you with these awful pity-filled expressions that made you want to roll your eyes.  
More so than your friend’s worried clucks and glances between each other, because at least you knew your friends were coming from a place of worry and not from a place of “why haven’t you done this thing society expects you to do?” like your coworkers.
And, really--
It wasn’t your fault that you hadn’t found your soul mate. 
It’s not like there were tons of people in your home city named “Uvogin,” after all. 
At least his name was well-hidden on your body. It was written, as everyone’s was, in a neat cursive scrawl in black ink that would never come off. You’d heard stories of people who had gone so far as to cut off the skin that contained their soul mate’s name--fighting destiny and all that--only for the name to pop up somewhere else or sometimes even on the same spot, black as ever on the healing, mangled skin.
It wasn’t something you were going to try. 
Uvogin’s name, whoever he was, was on the back of your neck,  low, between your shoulder blades. You liked it that way. It meant you couldn’t be the target of scammers or people who’d been unable to find their real soulmate and were obsessively, dangerously desperate to get someone (anyone) to be with them.
And you? Well. You wouldn’t deny that it might be nice to find your soulmate. Some of your friends and coworkers and passers-by-on-the-street certainly seemed happy to be together. 
But you weren’t going to stop living your life just because you were still on your own. So if you spent your evenings watching movies or rearranging your decorations or making the perfect beef-and-wine stew for one, what was so wrong with that? 
--
You don’t wake up when someone breaks through the wood of your door with a simple stab of their fingers, slides their hand in, undoes the lock, and turns the door knob to enter without any more fanfare.
You don’t wake up when someone’s eyes dart around your apartment, looking for your bedroom.  You don’t wake up when your bedroom door opens with only the tiniest creak.
You only wake up when a hand is slapped over your mouth, and you jolt from a dead sleep with a dizzying suddenness that leaves your head swimming.
You’re awake--you think--and there’s someone above you, a big, heavy presence that seems to take up everything in your field of vision. The taste of salt and flesh is on your mouth, a big hand pressed over your lips and jaw to keep you from moving them.
To keep you from screaming.
“Where is it?” The voice asks, and you can tell it’s a man. But he’s huge, tall as anything, and even in the dimness of your room you can see he has a wild shock of hair that makes him look more like a lion than anything else. The thought is almost silly in the fogginess of your head, but as reality comes in, clearing the way, there’s nothing to laugh about right now.
“Where’s what?” You ask, or try to ask, though you can’t do more than mumble against the large meat of his hand against your face.
  It takes him a moment to register that you can’t actually answer. You can see, barely, his eyes narrow down at you.
“Don’t be stupid,” he says, and you won’t be. He wants money, presumably, and you can give him that. Or your TV. Or whatever he wants. As long as you make it out alive.
Slowly, he removes his hand, as if waiting to see if you’ll try to scream.
You don’t. As he moves his hand away, your thoughts come quick, untethered, flitting about the unfairness of the situation. You haven’t really lived yet, and you’re too young to die, and you hope he doesn’t hurt you at all but if he does just let him not kill you at least, is that too much to ask, God, you hope not--
“Where is it?” He repeats. And maybe it’s just your imagination or the fear getting to you, but he seems like he’s lowered his voice a little, sounding less harsh and more considerate. Maybe because you didn’t scream and you aren’t making trouble. That’s a good sign, maybe. It’s hard to tell. 
You swallow. You wish he would move back, so you weren’t lying on your back in bed. But he does no such thing, so all you can do is stare up at him, heart hammering, mouth dry.
“Where’s what?” 
He snorts. 
”Your soulmate’s name.” 
Does your heart stop? No, but it feels like it does. You expected him to say something else. Like. Your money or your safe or your most valuable items. But your soulmate’s name? Is he some sort of deranged loner who couldn’t find his soulmate and he thinks you’re itt? 
Or… 
You swallow, thick, as the thought finally comes to you. It’s not something you thought about often, because most people weren’t worried about things like this. But sometimes your soulmate was someone Not Very Nice. Someone that Hunters might be tasked to go after. And this man, bulky and strong and intimidating as hell, could definitely be a Hunter.  
More often than not, they went after civilian soulmates when catching the criminals proved to be too difficult--though no one could say for sure what might be done to them afterward. 
Some of them were used as bait. Some of them were taken to the authorities to help track down their not-so-law-abiding soulmates. And some… well. You’d heard rumors that killing a soulmate could hinder certain types of criminals. 
“None… none of your business.” Your teeth clack against each other, a thin, quick pain that seems to linger on in your mouth. 
The man’s lips twist into a frown, half-shadowed by the darkness in the room, although as your eyes adjust you can see more of him. It doesn’t make you feel any less worried about what’s going to happen, though. 
“No?” 
You see his arm move, and think he’s about to slap his hand over your mouth again, but what he does instead is shove his arm right in front of your face.
You blink.
And stare.
And it takes you a moment to realize what you’re looking at--on his arm, bulky as it is, scared as you are. 
It’s your name. In a nice, neat scrawl. Unmistakable and permanently stained on his skin.
This man isn’t a Hunter sent here to kidnap you or drag you into a station or kill you. And he certainly isn’t here to steal your wallet or your television or your collection of rare comic books.
He’s your soulmate.
Uvogin.
“B-Back… back of my neck,” you say, stammering. 
He hums. And then he shifts over on the bed, and you instinctively sit up in your bed, glad to no longer be prone underneath him. 
“Let me see,” he says, gruff. But there’s a gradual lessening of heaviness in the air, now that you know he isn’t here to kill you or rob you or who knows what else. That still doesn’t excuse breaking into your apartment and doing this, but…
You lean forward, and with a surprising gentleness considering his size, he pulls down the back of your nightshirt enough to see what’s underneath. 
“Heh, there it is, huh…”
 He lets the fabric go and you lean back, looking at him. He stares down at you, his weight sagging your mattress, his bulky frame taking up most of the bed.
“You gonna scream?” 
You think. You bite your cheek. You shake your head.
“You gonna try to run?”
You breathe out through your nose. And you think. And you shake your head. You won’t scream, you won’t run--you can tell without asking that neither of those would do you any good. And… do you really need to? There’s a strange sort of curiosity that’s building inside you, now that you know who he is--your soulmate. 
He nods, tilting his head back a little, craning his neck as if to stretch it.
“Hope so. Would be stupid if you tried, and I hope my soulmate isn’t that stupid. You get me?”
You nod again, and your breath hitches just a little when he stands up and begins to stretch his neck again. He sighs, evidently pleased by the releasing of tension, or maybe pleased that he’s found you and you didn’t shriek like a wild banshee and try to get away.
You could still try to run. Your fingers grip on your sheets, still uneasy. Sure, he was your soulmate but… soulmates didn’t usually burst into people’s rooms at night and tell them not to scream. Usually.
Uvogin, like his name, was definitely an outlier. 
He leans against the wall next to your bed, looking down at you with appraising eyes. It almost makes you wish you weren’t sitting in bed wearing an old nightshirt, eyes bleary, hair messy. It wasn’t exactly a good first impression. 
“Been looking for you for a while,” he tells you. “I thought maybe you were good at hiding… Shalnark’s soulmate kept him out of the loop for a while.” He chuckles to himself, reliving some private memory. “But looks like you’re just that much of a nobody.”
Something inside your chest bristles.
“Excuse me?” You sit up straighter, and finally get the nerve to lean over to your bedside table and flick on the lamp. Your eyes squint for a moment. The addition of new light doesn’t make your soulmate look any less intimidating. But it does make you feel less like some helpless rabbit in the dark, at least.
He raises his eyebrows, and there’s a small part of you--a churning in your stomach--that tells you to sit down and shut up. But you’re not about to be 
“That’s rude,” you say, as calmly as you can. “I’m not a nobody just because you couldn’t find me. Maybe it means you’re bad at looking.”
There’s a pause, a beat. You wonder if you’ve pissed him off. But then he throws his head back and laughs. 
“Fair enough,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “Fair enough.” He sighs, then, and looks up at the ceiling. “There is the question of what to do with you, though.”
Ah, there it is again. That churning in your stomach. A growing pit, tight and electric. 
You sit up straighter, and piece what little you know of these puzzles together in your mind. It doesn’t add up to anything particularly wholesome, even with giant chunks missing. 
“I… I’m guessing you wouldn’t be okay with a long distance relationship,” you mutter. 
He scoffs, a little laugh. “Oh? What gave you that idea?”
He leans forward, and you don’t know exactly what you expected him to do, but it wasn’t to pat you on the head. But he does. 
“Smart,” he says, while his voice is teasing there’s something that sounds a little genuine in there. Or were you imagining it? Was it just part of the soul mate bond, maybe, to automatically see things your soulmate did as pleasant? 
He sits back down on the bed. The bed frame creaks. You aren’t keen on spending money to replace it, but you aren’t keen on scolding your very large, very strong soulmate right now either. So you keep mum.
He leans forward and rests his hand on his palm, keeping his elbow on his knee.
“Well. I don’t exactly got a house with a white picket fence. Or without one, for that matter.” He rubs at his nose, and it strikes you, how casual this conversation is… your soulmate, sitting on your bed, after breaking into your apartment in the dead of night. You take the moment of his consideration to lean over and look through your bedroom door, which faces the entryway. You can just make out the busted wood of your front door… fuck. What would your landlord say?
“Some of the others got one place they keep their soulmates, suppose I should think about it…” He glances at you, gauging something. “Makes it easier when you have one place to go, ‘stead of dragging your soulmate everywhere.”
His words finally do let you feel a sense of unease. You don’t know who the “others” are, or why they would need to be dragging their soulmates everywhere. He wasn’t a Hunter, but maybe something like it. Something that kept him moving. Or, more likely considering the circumstances of your first meeting, something that kept him on the run.
The thought of being dragged around or even taken to some sort of strange house brings back that churning in your stomach, an awful, lurching feeling. Your eyes dart around your room, to everything you’ve set up in your life up until now. 
Every inch of your apartment was carefully chosen, down to the rugs on the floor and the color of the tension rods you’ve shoved into the windowsill. But it’s not just the decor. It’s… your whole life. Your job, the coworkers you’d carefully built relationships with, the fact that you have a favorite diner for breakfast and takeout spot for the weekends. 
“I… don’t want to leave here.” Your voice is soft and at first you think he doesn’t hear you, but when you see him raising his eyebrows and lean forward, you get the nerve to continue.
“If-if that’s possible,” you add, a little quickly. “I’d like to stay here. This could be your… the place where you keep me. Or whatever.” The last words come out mumbled. They’re almost embarrassing to say, like you’re some kind of pet.
He doesn’t say anything for a little while. You almost start talking again, some half-baked plead, but he leans a little closer to you. His look is serious.
“How could I trust that you won’t just run away after I leave?”
Your lips press together. 
“I worked hard for this place. For this life. I would hate…” And you search for the words, lost somewhere in the dimness of your room. “I would hate for it all to become worthless.” 
You sit up straighter, before leaning towards him. Maybe it will be easier to convince him if you don’t act so rigid, so scared. You can do that. 
“If you let me stay here, or-or even if you just let me take my favorite things with me, I’ll be… good?”
He snorts. There’s a hint of a smirk as he leans forward.
“Yeah? You’ll be good?”
Warm flushing creeps to your cheeks, and for the first time you think about what it really means to be someone’s soulmate. Togetherness. Intimacy. 
Your words come out halted, and fumbling. But you mean them, as long as it guarantees that you don’t have to give up your life. Your apartment, your spots, every carefully curated bit of your existence here. Or even--and the thought is desperate--if he is going to take you away, it would be enough if you could keep your belongings. Just enough. 
“I’ll do what you want?” You shrug, keeping your eyes downcast on  your lap, though you can see him shift out of the corner of your gaze.. “Cook or clean or… whatever.”
There’s a hand on your chin, but this time he doesn’t cover your mouth. Instead he tilts your chin up and holds it there, forcing you to keep eye contact.
“So what? You want to make a deal? I let you keep some furniture, and you’re going to be a good little housewife for me?”
“I didn’t--” You say, practically spluttering the words out. “I didn’t say that.” Your cheeks feel impossibly hot. 
He laughs, and lets go of your chin. You don’t look down.
“No, I like it. It’s cute.” He grins at you. “I’m lucky. Some of the others, well…” He rolls his eyes, and you don’t press him on it. 
He drums his fingers against the bed. 
You look up at him, eyes wide, hopeful. 
He sighs, then gives you a lopsided grin that makes your stomach churn in a different way than before. Though the feeling is just as unnerving.
“All right,” he says, with a casual sort of finality. “You can stay here.” A pause. “For now. If you try anything--and I mean anything, like going to the cops, telling your friends, whatever…” He moves his wrist around in a gesture that you can only take to mean “all of this goes away.” He looks at you with a seriousness that makes you want to press yourself through the headboard and into the wall. “Got it?”
You nod.
But then…
“There’s… one thing I need you to do before morning, then,” you say, voice tight and quiet but determined. “Uvogin,” you add, hoping that using his name might make him a little less intimidating. It doesn’t, but maybe that comes with time. 
Both of his eyebrows raise. You almost think he’ll just shut you down, but instead he asks--
“Yeah? What’s that?” 
You gesture towards your open bedroom door, towards the front of your apartment.
“You have to fix that door first. My landlord will have a fit.”
For the second time since meeting you, Uvogin throws back his head and laughs. 
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