#she's a terrible hunter but she seems to enjoy it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nariism · 9 months

Text

chaos makes the muse

pair. hayakawa aki x gn!reader

content: enemies to lovers, fluff, mentions of addiction and smoking cigarettes (negatively, i'm sorry smokers pls look away), reader is a little shit and aki is sick and tired, swearing

synopsis. aki's life is defined by bad decisions and terrible habits. it culminated in you. he's screwed.

wc. 6.2k (oops)

a/n: this is my preemptive apology for all the smokers out there who i just slandered !! i am so sorry i love you. this fic was meant to be experimental with tropes and dynamics i've never tried before, sorry if it's not entirely up to standard :') i really tried my best guys... enjoy!

it started as a challenge.

it always starts as a challenge for aki — from the lit end of his cigarette to the place where it sits dangerously between his teeth. he picked it up as a bad habit from himeno. that was his first challenge; the way he'd adamantly refused to smoke but ultimately caved over a lukewarm bowl of ramen. what a depressing tale.

it wasn't meant to be anything more than a "why the hell not?" sort of defiance against the universe.

he hadn't been broken in by devil hunting yet and didn't need it as something to take the edge off. oh, how he wishes he could go back in time and slap himself silly.

day by day he found his reliance grew. an unpleasant itch in his throat, an insatiable craving that would slam into his chest and leave him breathless at the most inconvenient times. sometimes he would start muttering to himself in irritation when he got that familiar itch right after brushing his teeth.

as he got older and worked a little longer as a devil hunter, he grew less and less sane the longer he went without a smoke.

that was the second challenge; trying to focus on his jobs when his brain was buzzing with need. it was hard to stay sharp when he could feel the box sitting in his front pocket — agonizing, teasing, mocking him.

it's probably the reason he ended up in this mess in the first place, standing across from makima while she lists off all the ways he messed up on his last job. and the list is long. he must have really needed a dart.

so here he is, back turned to the door as he faces makima head-on. his fingers instinctively drum against the pocket of his pants, along the box sitting there, and all he can think is "i can't wait to get out of here for a smoke."

then the door swings open. a chill runs down his spine before he even turns around, because there's a certain air that enters the room unlike any he's felt before.

he's encountered the scariest devils out there. his whole family was taken out by a gargantuan gun-infested lovecraftian monster. but for some reason, aki gets an unfamiliar wave of horror that washes over him when he finally turns around.

"this is your new temporary partner until i'm sure you can be trusted alone on another mission."

and there you are. his third challenge.

you seem too relaxed to have been in this business for long, though it looks like you could only be a year or two younger than him. there's something about you that ticks him off. you're not a fiend — definitely not with how plain you are, but the way you're scowling at him as if he's a disease on this earth makes him second guess it.

aki can't even hear what makima is talking about anymore, too busy melting into a puddle under your heavy, judgemental glare. silence fills the room and aki is acutely aware that he's supposed to introduce himself, but you're too quick to speak and beat him to the punch.

"you smoke," is your deadpan and rather uncalled for observation.

"yes i do. and?"

you scrutinize him with a sneer, clearly disgusted.

"i don't like the smell of smoke. or smokers."

his jaw nearly drops at your bluntness. for the sake of keeping his cool exterior intact, he steels himself and takes a deep breath. it's fine. he knew how to deal with handfuls like you, like denji, like power. trouble kids. this would be easy–

"i promise you, i'll be uncooperative and keep you as a hostage in lower paying jobs until you quit."

"you... can't be serious?"

"dead serious."

"... and who the hell are you again?"

"i don't tell people my name."

"this whole mysterious act sucks. and your attitude sucks, too."

your glare sharpens at his words and you huff like a child throwing a tantrum. he almost wants to laugh at how your expression has changed. instead, he holds out his hand with a resigned sigh. "alright, alright. i'm sorry. my name is hay-"

you slap his hand away; a wordless warning accompanied by another look that makes him shrink back.

"don't care. didn't ask."

makima smiles, cruel and knowing. "i'm glad to see the two of you getting along. you're dismissed."

aki knows he shouldn't be mad at makima. it was his fault in the first place that the devil got away, and only because he was so distracted. this was a fair punishment for such a severe mess up. if this was her way of teaching him a lesson, he would just have to grit his teeth and bear through it.

he stares you down with disdain sitting under his tongue, bitter and unforgiving like the aftertaste of his black coffee in the morning; like having a mouthful of power and denji's burnt breakfast; like the tar that coats his lungs.

"fine then, be that way. nice to meet you, partner."

aki's mornings start slow.

they always have, for as long as he can remember. he wakes up just after the crack of dawn, to which denji has called him sick in the head multiple times for, and spends his time unwinding before he inevitably has to go into work and be on high alert for ten hours straight.

it's a peaceful morning like any other. he's on his balcony overlooking the quiet streets of tokyo. denji and power haven't woken up yet, so he has at least a few moments of solitude (which he so desperately needs, by the way).

he cracks open a new box of cigarettes and shakes one into his hand. he's two seconds away from flicking open his lighter to start his morning smoke when–

"i told you i don't like smokers."

aki nearly falls off the balcony in surprise, whipping around to see the intruder. you're standing there with another frown on your face. he has to wonder if you can smile at all.

"how did you get into my apartment?!"

"huh? the front door. are you stupid?"

"but–" aki's head tilts so that he can peer over your shoulder. there's no sign of anyone else being awake to let you in, which means you must have just taken the liberty of waltzing on in here unannounced. "don't sneak up on me like that. i could have hurt you."

"why would you do that?"

"excuse me? because you just broke into my apartment, for fuck's sake."

"i didn't!" you argue back defensively, fumbling in your pocket to pull out a key. and in that moment, aki realizes something deeply, deeply terrible. just as makima had sprung the role of babysitter onto him with denji and power, she has now bestowed upon him possibly the most irritating human being ever born.

this can’t be happening. he couldn’t possibly get stuck with a third unbearable roommate. what kind of shitty karma does he have?

"i... i need a minute."

your tongue clicks in annoyance. "hurry up. i want to leave for work asap."

"just go in yourself. i can meet you there later."

"i don't have a car."

it's as if thunder claps in his ears. "you... don't... have a car..." he repeats back to you slowly, utterly defeated. "at least let me finish getting ready."

you eye the cigarette still held between his fingers with nothing but contempt. "i don't like–"

"yes, yes, i get it! you don't like the smell of smoke. you don't like me."

your face scrunches slightly as you fall silent. if he didn't think you were being such a pest right now, he might have thought you looked a little cute.

"it hurts my nose."

"you have a sensitive nose or something?"

"or something."

his eye twitches.

aki very quicky learns that when you don't like how things are done, you're very vocal about it. and not only are you vocal, if he ever decided to be stubborn you would take actions into your own hands.

he can't count how many times you've stomped up to him in the middle of a job just to slap the cigarette straight out of his mouth and snuff it out with your heel. he's starting to get antsy because of it.

you're a menace. sometimes he even finds that a box of cigarettes he had purchased the night before has mysteriously ended up drenched at the bottom of the bath. it's infuriating.

he doesn't understand how someone could be so intolerant to a scent. he knew it was unpleasant, but he would like to think that he has impeccable enough hygiene to at least be passable. hell, even denji and power don't seem to notice or care.

(not that it's a very high bar to clear when it comes to them. denji once ate a kid's half-chewed leftovers off the table at mcdonalds and said it was a waste of food. aki was not pleased.)

it's not until he's known you for exactly sixty-two days that he learns the truth. two agonizing months of taking a single drag before you come over to him and snatch the cancer stick right out from under his nose.

aki isn't sure how he never noticed — the minute twitch of your nose when you were drawing closer to a devil. the way your shoulders stilled as you held your breath around denji and power.

he thought you were just a regular human being. he should have known makima wouldn't have paired him with someone normal. you were makima's personal devil tracker.

"it's this way," you tell him as you lead him further into the tunnel. it's almost pitch black. aki can't get a read on anything around him.

"how do you know?"

you look at him with an brow raised, like he just asked a really dumb question. "i can smell it."

"you can smell it?"

"i can smell it,” you repeat in confirmation.

"you're insane. there's nothing down here. let's just go back and regroup with–"

you suddenly swivel around, the flashlight in your hand beaming into his face. he has to cover them with a hand as he scowls at you for temporarily blinding him.

"no! it's here! it would just be easier to find if someone wasn't masking up its scent!"

aki's eyes roll into the back of his head at your little jab. "don't waste my time. i have better things to be doing than babysitting you down here."

he gestures dramatically for you to continue walking, shuffling around in his pocket before pulling out a dart. you glower at him distastefully.

"are you for real right now? you can't go 5 minutes without a smoke?"

he just shrugs, lighting it as he trails behind you. "if i need one then i need one."

"i can't believe you. you're seriously so childish," you sputter out, turning around to glare at him.

aki just sighs tiredly, blowing smoke into your face.

he can't wrap his head around why denji and power have taken such a liking to you.

you're rude and blunt and shameless with your remarks. if he was irrational he might have knocked you out by now for constantly swiping darts out of his mouth.

your relationship is purely obligatory. there's a level of mutual trust between you and him; there has to be for the two of you to be a partially functioning team of hunters — but even then, you bicker. and as soon as you're home, you rush into your room in a flurry of curse words and bites that leave aki grumbling to himself.

he doesn't get it. there's not an ounce of appeal.

you have a plain style and an even less exciting personality. he also thinks you have an ugly attitude problem and act like a brat when you want something from him. he always caves, too, which is the worst part — it's some unawakened big brother instinct that he never got to feel as a kid.

he spoils you too much for your own good.

don't want carrots in your curry tonight? fine. he doesn't want to hear you complaining about it, or worse, flinging them around the room with power. again.

saw something at the hundred yen store on the way home? whatever. it's just a hundred yen. if you want it then he'll buy it even if it's something as stupid as a charm for your keychain.

and he hates that you find it all so sentimental, the cheap little trinkets he gets for you. he absolutely loathes the fact that you lug them all around with you. they clink and jingle as you walk around, a clear dead giveaway when you're trying to be stealthy during a job.

(the kicker? it's so endearing that he can't even find it in himself to scold you for it. he despises you for making him even consider calling you cute.)

he should have grown a stronger resolve about this sort of thing. otherwise, he would have been coming home unscathed tonight.

he exhales in exhaustion as he watches you retreat into your room again for the night before he shuffles over into the bathroom and sits at the edge of the tub. he had just bought you a little bracelet with a bell charm on it, jingling with every step you took. it was a grave mistake to bring it into enemy territory.

as much as he would love to place the blame on you, he can't. not when you're so much less experienced out in the field than he is, and not when you were so reserved the entire ride home.

it was his fault. he should have known better.

you were eerily silent as you drove (he was in no condition to drive, so despite his reluctance handing you his car keys, he really had no choice). there was a look on you that was unrecognizable — something morphed between guilt and worry.

he usually doesn't smoke in the confines of his apartment, taking his cigarettes outside where it'll smell less. but he needs one badly right now, and who are you to stop him in his own home?

he catches his reflection in the mirror above the sink. it hits him then how much of a mess he is right now; hair disheveled and masking his vision, blood staining his white button-up, sweat sticking to his forehead and smoke rising to veil half of his face.

aki doesn't get paid enough for this.

"you look like shit."

his eyes flutter closed at the sound of your voice from the door. you invite yourself in, standing a few feet away from him with a hand covering your nose.

"smell like it, too."

"yeah, i bet," he mumbles, pulling the dart from between his teeth to blow smoke in your direction like he always does when you’re pissing him off. you wave it away with a scowl.

"that was rude."

"speak for yourself."

"you suck."

"did you come in here just to be a bother?"

your face twists and he almost bursts out laughing at the constipated expression you give him. you fumble a little with your sleeves, gaze falling to the floor as you stand there like a kid who just threw up and needs their mom to come clean it up.

"do you need help?" you ask him, voice nearly inaudible.

he considers it for a second before his eyes drift to the cigarette still lit between his fingers. "no. it's fine. it's probably better if you're not in here with me right now."

"but you're hurt."

"i've been through worse. i'm fine, really," aki raises a brow at you and your strange behaviour, "don't worry about it."

you're silent again for a moment as his words sink in. "i feel bad. i feel like it's my fault." you sound earnest about it, chewing on your bottom lip guiltily.

he exhales loudly in response, shifting his weight a little on the tub so he can unbutton his shirt. "okay, okay. quit making that face. it's creeping me out."

you huff at his words but surprisingly offer no rebuttal. you waddle over to him slowly, brows furrowing further with each drag of your feet against the tile floor. he watches you curiously as you rummage through the sink cabinet and kneel in front of him, body resting between his thighs.

if you can feel how warm he gets from the action, you don't bother teasing him about it.

your nose is entirely scrunched up now, though you do your best to hide your clear disdain for the scent of smoke filling your nose.

"you really don't have to do this. i promise i'm okay."

you leer at him stubbornly and he immediately relents, not in the mood for a petty argument. you work quickly and delicately, wrapping his wound in gauze. it's then that he realizes there's no tiny jingle of a bell filling the air as you move, and he looks down to see your empty wrist.

"for the record, it wasn't your fault," he says quietly, hand stopping yours. you don't try and slap it away this time, but falter a bit.

"... you don't have to try to be nice to me."

"i'm not trying to be nice. i'm just telling you how it is."

"but–"

"no buts."

your eyes meet his as you peer up at him. you stay still for just a beat before you're wrapping him again, careful not to nick his wound.

are you... crying?

it's subtle, the little tears gathering on your lashes. he might not have realized if it wasn't accompanied by the tiniest of sniffles (which makes you recoil back slightly with the intrusion of smoke filling your lungs).

oh no. he's growing a soft spot for you because of this. the most irritating human on the planet, and he wants to give you a hug so you'll stop crying. what the hell is wrong with him.

aki's hand plops onto the top of your head before either of you realize it's happening. he awkwardly averts his stare.

"don't cry. it's ugly on you."

and it really is, because why else would his heart be having such a violent reaction to it?

for a second he anticipates the sharp sting of your hand smacking his away again, or maybe you'll even be so angry that you'll tilt your head up and sink your teeth into him like a rabid animal.

but you don't. you laugh — a real genuine laugh that makes him dizzy.

he's never been able to picture you with a smile on your face before. you always look feral, like you're about to launch at him and tear his skin off, or so tired that you can't even keep your eyes open anymore.

he sucks in a deep breath as he watches you laugh, blinking the tears out and wiping them up with your sleeve.

you don't say anything to him in response, instead giggling to yourself as you bandage him up the rest of the way. and he doesn't say anything either, not wanting to ruin something so special.

aki realizes that there's still a cigarette he's unconsciously rolling between his fingers. he hasn't taken a drag in so long that it's starting to extinguish itself. and despite the smell of smoke filling the room, you haven't stopped cleaning his wound and wrapping him.

he crushes it up in his hand and drops the ashes into the tub behind him.

he really should quit.

there's a shift in aki in the following weeks.

it's almost palpable — the way he speaks a little softer. a little more tender. kinder. and you can smell it, too; the scent of smoke slowly disappearing over time (not entirely, mind you, but it's the thought that counts).

you first noticed it when you came home from mcdonalds with denji, fries stuffed into your cheeks as you blinked down at aki who was on his hands and knees wiping down every square inch of the apartment.

"come on man, we're not that messy for you to be doing all that..." denji complained while scratching his balls. but aki didn't dignify him with a response, dutifully using a sponge and warm soapy water to scrub at the walls.

you observed him in secrecy later that night, peering into the bathroom as he dumped out the bucket of brown water. he was scrubbing the apartment clean of two years worth of smoke.

it didn't end there. as the months passed, you started smelling it on aki less, too.

once he smoked he would shower right away, even going so far as to pull over on the way home one night and use a public bathhouse. when he could he would change his clothes, too. his sudden change in lifestyle made it significantly more tolerable to linger around him. no longer were you holding your breath until your lungs ached in your ribcage.

aki also took notice of your change in behaviour in response. it was easier to be around you when you weren't constantly whining about his smell.

he didn't think he was being so obvious in the way he was starting to enjoy your company day by day. you still gave him migraines like no other, and he couldn't stand your attitude. but he couldn't help but find your quirks a little charming, at least a bit funny if nothing else.

he wasn't aware that a very watchful (and perverted) pair of eyes was picking up on his signs.

it's a quiet morning with the fan blowing. you and power are still dead to the world and aki has just settled down to have his breakfast.

"so like, what's the deal with you two anyways?"

he glances up from his food with a tilt of the head.

"what are you talking–"

"cause i mean, i totally saw you checking out their ass yesterday." at denji's remark, aki almost chokes on his rice.

"what? i absolutely was not." he guffaws at the blond as if he's ludicrous.

"riiiight... so, you're not into each other then? what's with the looks?"

"what looks?"

denji makes it a point to be theatrical in his renditions of the previous night, sighing dreamily and fluttering his lashes.

"like that."

"... just eat your breakfast, man. you're imagining things."

"nah, but i'm not. c'mon, you don't like them even a little?"

"no."

"liar."

"denji..." aki strains the name out through grit teeth — a warning.

"what'cha guys talkin' about?"

god no. aki can't do this today. not right now. it's too early in the morning.

"we were just talking about how lovey-dovey aki's been lately."

"ohoho, so he finally admits it?" power sits across the table, suddenly interested in conversation.

"i didn't admit anything..." aki puts his chopsticks down with a frustrated sigh, "and what the hell do you mean finally?"

"he totally did admit it. and you should have seen the two of them yesterday—"

"dude, i'm going to kick you in the balls."

"let me have a turn!"

"will you two stop already? i'm getting a headache."

it's a horrible conversation, honestly. a terrible, horrific, unforgiving realization that they might be even a small fraction correct.

this whole household is the bane of his existence.

this thought sticks with him all day; they're going to be the death of me. why me, universe? why me? it doesn't stop until he finally settles into bed at the end of his long day and lets his eyes slide shut for some well-deserved sleep.

there's laughter echoing in his ears, nothing more than a dreamy hallucination as he drifts in and out of sleep. it's sweet and rare and beautiful — he wants to capture it in a bottle and get drunk off of it.

just as aki is about to fall asleep, there's a gentle knock at the door. he stirs awake again with a soft groan, sitting up in bed.

"come in."

in you walk, hands clasped in front of you as you stare at your feet. "i had a nightmare."

he scoffs, but he's climbing out of bed and trodding over to you anyways. "what are you, a child? what'd you come to me about that for?"

"jerk."

he considers you quietly, focusing on the bags under your eyes and the way you shift uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze.

"well what do you want me to do?"

you chew on your lip for a moment. "can i sleep in here?"

"with me?"

"with you."

aki looks at you like you've lost your mind. "no," he says immediately. you wouldn't get a very restful sleep if you were suffocating in the lingering smell of smoke.

he expects you to put up a fight like you always do when things don't go your way. he even braces himself for the onslaught of names you'll call him.

it never comes. instead:

"okay."

quiet and resigned and tired. and he hates that it makes his stomach drop, because next thing he knows his hand is shooting forward to capture your wrist as you retreat.

"god, quit looking so sad. you're the worst," he tells you as he drags you back into the room and unceremoniously tosses you onto his bed.

"dickwad," you bite back weakly. aki can only roll his eyes in response as he takes half his pillows and blankets to make a temporary bed on the floor for himself. you watch him curiously.

"you're not sleeping in the bed?"

"you wouldn't be able to sleep if you were that close to me."

"... right."

"goodnight," he huffs, settling onto the uncomfortably hard wooden floor. a hush settles over the room and he assumes you've either fallen asleep or are trying to, until you start shuffling around for a couple seconds. he can hear your mouth opening and closing, as if you’re deciding whether or not to say something.

"what is it now?" aki sighs, rolling onto his side to peek at you. you're already facing him, balled up into the blanket.

"can i hold your hand at least?"

he gawks at you for a second before recomposing himself. it's just hand holding, who cares? not him. not even a bit.

(liar.)

"fine," he mumbles, slowly reaching up to offer his hand. you take it tentatively, fingers gently curling around his. his brain almost explodes into malfunctioning, heart stopping in his chest.

you blink at each other, gazes steady and unwavering. then your eyes flutter closed as you pull the blanket up and over the bottom half of your face.

"hayakawa?"

"what?" he studies you, watching the way your expression changes ever so slightly.

soft, relaxed.

"thank you."

some part of aki knows he shouldn't be trying to memorize every part of you like this, but he does it anyways.

devil hunters don't get attached to others. they don't, and they can't. but aki can't help it. it was his worst habit — worse than smoking, actually.

he was always getting emotionally involved when it came to his partners. he couldn't go to sleep anymore thinking about the fact that you would have to go in the next day and face whatever horrible devil got assigned to you. there was a sickness that gurgled in his stomach when he pictured your ragged corpse, unmoving and lifeless at his feet.

it stresses him out beyond reason, even though you're in the next room over perfectly alive and breathing. and when aki is stressed, he reaches for a cigarette.

he thinks he's being quiet, and since you should be asleep he figures just one wouldn't hurt. so he sneaks out onto his balcony for a smoke, leaning over the edge of the railing so that he can observe the empty streets below.

for some reason, he hesitates for a moment as he brings it to his lips. he doesn't even get to light it before he's once again rudely interrupted.

"you're smoking."

it's as if you have a secret sense for when he's about to smoke. or maybe you can just smell them when he taps them out of the box. either way, it irks him.

aki sighs, hand slowly lowering and dangling over the railing. he doesn't even try to deny it as he glances over his shoulder at you. you're leaning against the door frame with your arms crossed. you don't seem as irritated as you usually do, instead regarding him steadily in slight defeat.

it makes his heart ache, so he flicks the unlit dart off the balcony and watches it disappear into the darkness of the street below.

"it's unhealthy, you know."

"i know."

"so why?"

"you think i chose to be this way?" in some ways he did, but he'd never tell you that.

silence befalls you as you join his side, resting your elbows on the railing. it's a calm night; a gentle breeze blows the hair from your face when you turn to look at him.

you wordlessly examine him, and he does the same. you’re more exhausted than usual, wilted like a flower starved for water. he knows it must be draining trying to keep up with someone in a special division — especially since you don't seem to be anything more than a bomb dog for makima, sniffing out where devils are hiding. he doesn't blame you for being so tired.

"hey," he frowns at you.

"what?"

"are you ever going to tell me your name?"

"no."

"seriously?"

"seriously."

he lets out a tiny groan of annoyance before he gets an idea. "if i quit smoking, would you tell me?"

you survey him cautiously. "i'd consider it."

aki runs a hand through his long hair in contemplation, looking out toward the complex across from his. "i don't get how people just quit on a whim. doesn't seem possible."

"they have stuff for that. like, chewing gum or nicotine patches or whatever." he huffs as you continue, "you just need to find something to take your mind off of it. something that satisfies your craving."

"yeah? way easier said than done. also, i don't know if i like being lectured by the likes of–"

"you'd be too irritating if you were addicted to anything else, anyways," you dismiss your own idea, completely ignoring the glare you're receiving from aki.

"you're annoying, you know that? worse than denji. worse than power, somehow." but he wants to take care of you anyways.

"am i?" you challenge defiantly, turning to face him completely.

"the worst. honest to god, i've considered quitting my job because of you." but he hasn't, has he?

"have you now?"

"what the hell was makima thinking, trying to get me to quit smoking by sending her tracker after me?" he should be thanking her, really.

you answer him honestly, voice quiet as you allow him to unconsciously enter your personal space in his rant of frustration. "i don't know."

he only realizes he's standing too close to you when your nose twitches slightly and your brows furrow — indicators that the faint but lingering smell of smoke on him is giving you a headache.

"sorry."

he starts to pull back with a defeated noise, but then your hands shoot forward and gently cling to his sweater. he looks at you inquisitively. you seem surprised by your own actions, too.

aki is forced to reconcile with the fact that he doesn’t want to take his eyes off of you. in his almost twenty-one years alive, he's never stood so close to someone before. it's taking a real toll on him.

a heavy fog of tension settles between you as you stand there, having a stare down both out of stubbornness and curiosity as to why the other hasn't pulled away yet.

"i don't know what's wrong with me... i don't think i want you to go inside yet. stop making me feel stupid," you complain, admitting your words shamelessly.

you watch as aki blinks at you before he shakes his head in exasperation.

"what am i going to do with you?"

there's a smile on his face as he says it, tiny and subtle. you would have missed it if he wasn't slowly inching closer and closer to you. and you let him despite the suffocating smell of smoke invading your senses again.

it occurs to him that the only things he has ever kissed are his wounds as he dresses them in bandages, himeno when she was wasted once, and the papery end of a cigarette.

you taste much sweeter than any of them.

maybe it was just easy for aki to fall into addictions. he was weak-willed in that sense. always has been.

and he always chose the absolute worst things in the world to get addicted to; revenge, smoking, and now you. he couldn't stand being in the same room as you anymore. not when he so desperately craved your lips on his.

it started as a casual thing; a small peck here, a sneaky kiss there, nothing jaw dropping. and you didn't seem to mind it all too much, allowing him to linger a little longer every time he leaned back in.

it was becoming a problem. a very serious one. he couldn't focus anymore. it was worse than smoking, so much so that everytime he wanted to reach for a box of cigarettes, he would end up coming to you instead.

there was something about you he wanted to preserve. a fondness grew in his heart, replacing the scream of annoyance that would fill his lungs and threaten to spill out every time he laid eyes on you.

you were something he wanted to keep. something to protect. someone to fill the silence when no one else would.

aki liked bickering with you. he found normalcy in it, as if he'd spent his whole life doing it. and sometimes it really did feel that way — as if he'd spent lifetimes before this one by your side.

it's why he clings to you so tightly when he almost loses you.

you're perched in his lap as he holds you, slowly running your fingers through his untied hair. the driver's seat of the car wasn't built for two people to sit; his legs are far too cramped to be comfortable and your knees are pressed harshly into his thighs.

he doesn't care. aki has never cared so much until he met you.

he's robbing you of air, clinging to you so tightly that you can barely move. he can hear you complaining against his lips, but he can't bring himself to stop.

"stop doing this to me," he hisses, knocking his forehead into yours so that he can stare into your soul. "it's ridiculous. i hate you. i hate you."

he kisses you again to bury the familiar lump growing in his throat.

"i told you to fucking stay put. why can't you just listen to me? you could have died. what would i have done then, huh?" you don't answer him, instead cupping his cheeks to try and calm him down.

"you're stupid and reckless and fuck — what would i do without you?" he closes his eyes when your nose brushes against his; a silent apology.

"i hate how much you mean to me, i hate your stupid laugh and your voice and how awful it makes me feel when you look sad. i hate that you keep all the worthless shit i buy you on the way home from work and i hate that you stand so close even after a smoke–" aki's jaw tenses to try and dam the outburst spilling out of him, but he can’t.

"–i hate that i love you. i hate it. i hate you. fuck! i love you–"

he's out of breath by the time he finishes getting his words out, his fingers digging into your hips almost painfully. you blink down at him as you brush the hair from his face.

he’s always so composed, even when he's being mean to you. it's rare to see him worked up like this. you can't help but smile.

"... don't just smile at me, idiot. say something," he pleads quietly, head falling against your shoulder as he keeps you in place.

he squeezes his eyes shut when your fingers thread carefully through his undone hair once again, raking the knots out smoothly. he melts in your touch until your hands leave his scalp and gather up his face again so you can look at him.

there's no tiny twitch of your nose. no furrowing of your brows. no stilling of your chest as you hold your breath. actually, he's never seen you so openly inviting.

"can i kiss you?" aki asks this time, voice hoarse.

you nod, and his whole world comes apart. he takes his time memorizing every curve of your lips against his, the taste of you, the little gasps of air you suck in as he seals his claim on you with his mouth.

"aki..." you murmur his given name against his lips, over and over and over. you whisper it between kisses that leave you breathless. and he swallows your voice, allowing himself to revel in the way his name sounds on your tongue.

he didn't smell of smoke anymore. he didn't taste like death and ash, either — he was just aki.

hayakawa aki, 20, professional devil hunter and resident cynic, who you're hopelessly in love with.

“aki?”

“yeah?”

"do you still want to learn my name?"

🏷️ @k0z3me @aanobrain (bye ily hope you enjoy this one art)

crossposted to ao3!

#— whispers in the wind ✧#im going into hibernation after this fic #goodnight world #i cant believe i actually finished it #chainsaw man #csm #chainsaw man fic #csm fic #hayakawa aki #aki hayakawa #aki hayakawa x you #aki hayakawa x y/n #aki hayakawa x reader #hayakawa aki x you #hayakawa aki x y/n #hayakawa aki x reader #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader

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ghostofskywalker · 1 year

Note

Can I request a tech x gn reader where the reader gets injured upon landing instead of him?

warnings: spoilers for tbb episodes 1 and 2!!

hello! here it is, i hope you enjoy!! side note, i was researching what a broken femur felt like (i've never broken a bone so i have no clue) and from what i can tell, the pain is literally unbearable, so either tech is a hell of a lot stronger than people give him credit for, or they totally downplayed how painful this injury is!

words: 2,033

summary: after you get injured in the cargo container, it's clear that tech is worried about you, and you can't help but wonder how your injury will change the team's dynamic.

clone troopers masterlist

Why Serenno Isn't Exactly The Best Place For a Vacation

The crate came flying at you too quickly to move out of the way in time, and the crushing pressure you felt when it landed on your legs made the hope of escaping unscathed completely out of question. You barely registered the shouts of your name from the other members of the team, and even when they removed the offending object from your legs there was no break in the pain.

Constant and unfathomably sharp, the feeling of absolute agony took over to the point where you were blinking tears out of your eyes and trying desperately to think about anything but the ever-growing feeling of horrifying torment. “Are you okay?” you heard Omega ask, and you knew she only meant well, but you were in no shape to answer.

“I believe that you have broken your femur,” Tech said after he took out a scanner from his belt and ran it over your leg. “This is a very serious issue, and we will need medical attention as soon as possible.”

“Let’s hope we can get out of here soon then,” Echo responded, and you couldn’t help but agree with him.

There was no hiding the pain now, and you just let the tears flow freely instead of trying to downplay the cocktail of horrors you were currently experiencing. Echo and Tech climbed up the side of the cargo container to hopefully be able to see where it had landed, and Omega stayed by your side, her little hand finding its way into your larger one. You knew that she was worried about you, and you tried your best to offer a smile of reassurance, but you were sure that it probably didn’t seem that convincing. After being pulled up by a wire and eventually landing on the clifftop, you laid on the ground and stared up at the sky, desperately hoping that everything would all be over soon.

There was still so much at play and so much danger all around you, but it was going to be hard to focus on anything but the terrible pain in your legs at this moment. You closed your eyes in hopes that you might be able to trick your brain into believing that you were anywhere but here right now, and you heard snippets of conversation between Echo, Tech, and Omega.

“Can’t move well, if at all…”

“It’s dangerous to be so open and exposed…”

“Nothing we can do if…”

You floated in and out of consciousness the entire time, still trying desperately to cling onto happy memories of the past even though it has proven so far to be ineffective against this particular torment. You thought you heard Echo say something about checking out the area and searching for cover, but the next thing you truly registered was the sight of Tech leaning over you, a worried expression on his helmet-less face.

“What’s happening?” you managed to slur out, the pain starting to affect your speech.

“Echo and Omega are going to search for a suitable shelter while we wait for Hunter and Wrecker to return with the Marauder,” he said. “But unfortunately there is not much I can do to help you at this moment. The fracture that you sustained inside the cargo container will require more medical attention and skill than either Echo or I have to give.”

You nodded in understanding as Tech took your hand and gently pulled it up to place a soft kiss to your palm. The gesture did calm and ground you, even if just for a fleeting moment, and you were thankful that he stayed behind with you instead of Echo or Omega.

While you couldn’t ever put an exact label on the relationship you had with the Bad Batch’s resident genius, it was certainly more intimate than the one you had with the other members of the squad. But due to your own worry and the fact that neither you nor Tech were really great at expressing your feelings, the few kisses you had shared and obvious affection you felt for one another never received a specific designation, instead remaining as open and nebulous as the galaxy itself. But you did know one thing, and that was the fact that even though the pain in your leg had yet to subside even for a single moment, you couldn’t help the way you wanted to pull yourself off the ground and place soft kisses all over Tech’s worried face.

But clearly you couldn’t, so you had to be okay with simply holding his hand until Echo and Omega returned with an elderly gentleman in tow. It seemed that neither of them noticed the way your hand pulled away from Tech’s or the way he stood up quickly as they approached, and soon you were being gently pulled up and supported as you began the short (and immensely painful) trek to Romar’s dwelling.

The only thing that provided a little bit of hope once you reached shelter was the single painkiller capsule Tech found in his kit. It didn’t kick in right away, but by the time things got serious, the feeling of intense agony had started to fade, even if it only left you with a feeling of less intense agony.

When Omega disappeared, you kicked yourself for not noticing quicker. Tech and Echo had immediately ran out to check the war chest, sure that was where she had gone off to, and you sat there, wondering what you should do. It felt wrong to just stay here and do nothing while your teammates were out and likely experiencing immense danger, but the pain in your leg had simply not subsided, and you had a feeling that you would be stuck with this feeling for the considerable future, even if you were able to find some form of treatment for your leg.

But when neither Tech nor Echo returned to Romar’s home for a while, your mind took a turn for the worst. Pulling yourself up to a standing position, you hobbled to the door. “You won’t get very far in your condition,” Romar said gently.

You knew that it would probably be better if you stayed, but you just couldn’t stomach the idea of letting your team down. Being a member of this squad meant more to you than you could ever put into words, and you refused to sit by and stay out of the inevitable fight that was coming. “I’ll manage,” you responded to the old man, trying to hide the pain you were still feeling from your expression.

“Your friends seemed to foresee this happening,” he responded, and you turned around to see Romar holding a blaster out to you. You took it, overcome with an emotion you didn’t quite know how to explain, and after you thanked the man for all his help, you were stepping out into the night air and doing your best to ignore the horrible sensations you felt in your injured leg.

By the time you reached close to where you thought the cliff was, the pain in your leg had grown to nearly be unbearable, but you couldn’t focus on that now, because there were two troopers up ahead, their Imperial armor devoid of all the color and other things that made the Batch’s armor unique.

Stunning one of them was easy because they didn’t know you were there, but once your position was given away it got a little more difficult. Blaster fire scattered all around as you to took cover behind a tree, and you thanked the Maker that it only took one or two more shots to stun the other trooper. However, you weren’t out of the woods just yet (both literally and figuratively), because you had no idea whether or not more reinforcements were on the way, and you hadn’t yet seen Tech, Echo, or Omega.

As you took a tentative step forward, the uneven ground beneath your foot made you stumble, and the pain in your leg sent you careening forward. You threw your arms out as to not let your face hit the ground, but you were now completely stuck as you laid there, not enough strength left in your body to pull yourself back up.

The pain capsule from before was starting to wear off as the adrenaline from the fight also started to diminish, and you could barely register the sound of others approaching you, but you couldn't really recognize their voices. Hoping it was Tech, Echo, and Omega, you allowed your eyes to close, the inky blackness enveloping your mind and body like a warm hug.

***

The sound of steady beeping is what brought you back to the land of the living, and you were immediately startled by the brightness of this new location. The feeling of stabbing pain in your thigh had become a dull ache at this point, still intense enough to pull your concentration from anything else but significantly less powerful than it had previously felt. You shifted slightly in the cot you were laying on, and suddenly a hand appeared in your vision, gently landing on your shoulder to keep you from sitting up. “Calm down, you’re going to be okay.”

“I-”

“You shouldn’t move too much, it will disrupt your bandages.”

You knew that voice, and that familiarity is what got you to pause. Looking up, you got a better image of where you were. It was clearly some kind of medical facility, from the look of the beds and machines all around you, and you were laying on a cot. It was Tech that had stopped you from moving before, and he had a worried expression on his face. “Where am I?” you asked.

“Medical facility, courtesy of Rex’s information,” he responded. “They set and put a cast on your leg, but you will still need time to heal. Wrecker and Omega are currently picking out a cane to aid you when your leg has recovered enough to walk, apparently there were many options and they wanted to make sure you had the best one.”

You smiled slightly and nodded. The fact that your injuries had been treated explained the significant difference in pain level, but you knew this injury was not something that was just going to disappear. “When are you all going to leave?”

“Leave?” Tech’s eyebrows furrowed as he took in your question. “What do you mean?”

“I highly doubt I’ll be able to go on missions with you guys, and I wouldn’t want my injury to slow you down,” you said plainly. “I didn’t think you were going to wait for me.”

There was a moment of silence before Tech answered your question, and he reached down to gently take your hand in his. “There is not a single member of this team that thinks that we would leave you behind,” he said, his usual matter-of-fact tone having taken on a slightly softer edge. “And there is plenty that you can help us with even if you cannot be in the center of the action.”

“Really?”

Tech nodded. “Truly. I could not live with myself if we left you behind, just seeing you injured has been painful enough.”

At his words, you scooted over in your bed and tapped the spot next to you. “Come cuddle with me,” you said, hoping your silly request would be accepted and he wouldn’t find it odd or strange.

“But what about if the others see?” Tech’s eyes were wide behind his goggles, and if you were completely healed, you would have moved up to place a kiss on his cheek or nose.

“I don’t care if they do,” you responded. “I just want to cuddle with you.”

It took a moment, but Tech eventually obliged, gently slipping into bed next to you. When he placed his arm around you and felt you nuzzle gently into him, he immediately decided that he didn’t care what his brothers thought either. And besides, if the way Echo had looked at him when they were watching over your unconscious form on the ship was any indication, they probably already knew something was happening.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

#tbb tech x reader #tbb tech #tbb tech x gender neutral reader #tbb tech x you #tech x reader #tbb spoilers #tech bad batch x reader #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch spoilers #bad batch x reader #bad batch spoilers #bad batch season 2

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taylortots-world · 2 months

Text

On The Clock (PT 2)

warnings: smut (18+), MDNI, handjobs, oral (m receiving), sexy times in baby, sam x f!reader

A/N: After a long wait, PT 2 is FINALLY OUT! I’m super excited for yall to read this. I apologize for not having posted anything new for a while. I have so many ideas and zero motivation. Anyways, enjoy! Feel free to check out part one.

It was a rather gloomy day is Sioux Falls. Y/N and Sam had just finished up a brief visit with Donna. The pair was getting some more info on a series of cough ‘animal attacks’. Throats ripped out and all. At first, it seemed like a simple vampire issue. But after some further research, Sam had come to the conclusion it wasn’t that simple. Nothing was ever that simple for hunters, especially the Winchesters.

Sam rested his fist against his temple, using his free hand to hold open a lore book. His foot occasionally tapping against the Impala’s floor. He was frustrated. He took up this case thinking it’d be a quickie. A filler case if you will. Y/N sat opposite of him in the passenger seat. A lore book laid open in her lap. She kept occasionally glancing over at Sam, practically feeling the frustration seeping out of him. A frustrated Sam Winchester was a rather rare sight. Y/N fought with herself internally as her eyes lingered on him. She debated on speaking up, to break the painful silence.

“Why don’t we take a break? We’ve been at this long enough.” Sam flipped the book in his lap shut, exhaling with a loud sigh. “Yeah, please. I just can’t seem to piece this together and it’s driving me crazy.” He ran a hand through his silken hair, glancing over to meet Y/N’s stare. This case had really taken a toll on all of them, but especially Sam. The gears witching Y/N’s pretty head began to turn. A sinister smirk ghosting her lips. She had an idea. A terrible one. Well, not terrible . It could just potentially blow up in her face and Sam would never speak to her again- but it was worth a try. Y/N slowly slid across the front bench seat of Baby. Sam gave her a strange look, his eyes searching her face. His stomach tightened as she licked her lips before speaking. The same lips that had once been on his very own. The lips he’d imagine wrapped around his cock at night.

“Look,” She started, speaking softly “I know this case has us all stumped, you especially. You’ve been sleeping less and barely eating- trying to get the ball rolling.” His expression softened. He never realized people could see right through him like that. He never realized she could. Her face slightly heated as they continued to stare at each other, saying nothing. “Let me help you relax.” She whispered, leaning forward to kiss his jawline. His stubble tickling her plush lips. His eyes fluttered shut as she began to kiss her way down his neck, gently pulling the collar of his flannel aside. Y/N smirked against his flesh, feeling a familiar warmth grow in her lower half.

The car felt as if it had become a hundred degrees warmer. Sam placed a bent finger under her chin, gently tipping her head up. He met her half way and captured her lips with his own. The first few kisses were sweet, until they weren’t. He had slightly turned, gaining better access to her lips. His hands rested on either side of her head. Without breaking the kiss, Y/N slid a hand down his torso- stopping at the buckle of his belt. Her eyes flicked open, waiting for him to give her the green light. Not saying anything, he dipped his head down to kiss her neck. A soft moan rolled off her lips as he gently kissed and sucked on the flesh of her neck. Her hands fumbled with his belt , his cock already straining against his jeans. His hand slid up her side, pausing to massage her breast. His fingers toying with her pebbled nipple over her shirt. A breath slightly hitched in her throat. Getting intimate with Sam Winchester had two possible turnouts. One, he’d make love to you all night long. Orgasm after orgasm. Or two, he could fuck you until the only thing that could leave your mouth was his name.

Y/N gently gripped his wrist, pulling away from the kiss. “As much as I enjoyed that- this is about you. I want you to relax, okay? So just sit back and let me do all the work. Please.” His cock fucking twitched. She didn’t even have to touch him and he could be a mess. He could come from just her words alone. “Alright.” He gave her a small smile before leaning back in to kiss her. Y/N busied her hands, quickly sliding his cock past the waistband of his boxers. He lifted his butt off of the leather seat, sliding his bottoms down. Dean would kill them both if there was an ass print or a mess left behind in his baby. Her mouth and pussy watered at the sight of his cock. It was rather large, with some definite girth to it. His tip was red and angry, already leaking pre come. Y/N adjusted herself. She was now lying on her stomach across the front seat, with her head perfectly positioned over Sam’s lap. Her hand came up to rest at the base of his shaft as she slowly slid his cock into her mouth. Sam cursed under his breath, gently holding her hair back. She slightly bobbed her head, using her hand to pump whatever didn’t fit in her mouth. His cock was rock hard in her mouth. Her tongue occasionally swiping over his tip, causing him to shiver. If she kept this up- he wasn’t going to last long. She pulled her mouth off of his cock with an audible ‘pop’. Her hand still pumping his cock at a moderate pace. “Perfect fucking dick..” She mumbled, tilting her head back to gaze up at him. He was practically melting into the leather seats. His hair fallen slightly in his face, his brows furrowed with pleasure. “Please,” He practically begged “ Your mouth feels fucking amazing. Don’t stop.” A smirk played on her lips momentarily before she lowered her lips to his cock once more. This time, she fully took him in her mouth. His tip occasionally tickling the back of her throat. Sam let his head fall back, a moan slipping past his lips wantonly. “Fuck yeah..” He mumbled under his breath, only fuelling her desire even more. Her head began to move faster. “I’m gonna come.” He announced, snapping his head back forward to watch her take his cock. His breathing grew heavy, which then turned into moans. He moaned loudly as he spurted his come down the back of her throat. She swallowed it, looking up at him with a smile on her face.

The pair had sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes as Sam tried to recover from his orgasm. “That was incredible, but-“ “Don’t tell Dean we fooled around in Baby.” Y/N interjected. “I know. After all, this isn’t our first rodeo.” She winked, causing him to shake his head. A shit eating grin was plastered across his face as they drove back to the bunker.

#sam #supernatural #the cw supernatural #thecw #winchester #dean #dean winchester #oneshot #samwinchester #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spnfandom #smut #spn smut #spn x reader #sam x reader #winchester x reader #tv shows

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moodymisty · 5 months

Note

Hey, what's up? I'd like to leave a request. So, I'm from Brazil. Here we are going through a terrible heat wave, it's been terrible to sleep at night. A random thought crossed my mind, and if Pabu's heat was also above average? The reader can't sleep and decides to take a swim in the sea. There she sees that Hunter has made the same decision and I don't know, can the two of them have a make-out session on the beach? 🤭😂

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙| 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: This is such a cute idea. I love midnight swims. I hope you enjoy this, and that the heat spell didn't cause you too much annoyance.

Relationships: Hunter/Gn!Reader

Warnings: Maybe a lil lewd but not full NSFW, Nothing more unless you're scared of the beach.

Word Count: 1353

Perhaps you were a bit too cruel in your comments about the wet weather of Kamino. Or the chill of Coruscant. Because as much as you complained about them individually, at least neither had the overwhelming, soul snuffing humidity that Pabu had. You've woken up again for the third time now, remaining undecided between the windows being open or closed, sheet on your body or off, laying on your side or stomach. This weather just will not abate.

There is absolutely no way you're going to sleep at this rate. Not with heat this sweltering.

With your nightclothes threatening to stick to your skin you put your feet into the cool stone floor, and debate for a moment perhaps sleeping on that instead. It may be terribly uncomfortable, but perhaps the cold of the tile might be better against your skin. It feels good against your feet, at least. Ultimately you decide against it however, and instead decide to do something else.

Stepping outside, you gently close the door behind you and walk barefoot down the path towards the beach, still in your nightshorts and shirt. No one is out this late but yourself, so you don't feel too bad about walking around in less than acceptable attire. Though you're sure most others in the town really wouldn't mind much given where you're going.

When the stone path turns to sand, you can see the waterline rising up and down with the waves. It's gentle, much like the evening except for the heat, and you can already feel the cool ocean breeze on your skin. It feels so much better, breathing feels easier without the hot humidity. It smells like salt and that unique, indescribable ocean scent.

It seems someone else had the same idea as well; As a figure standing up from beneath the water and raking back a mop of long dark hair startles you for a moment.

Until you see the familiar skeletal tattoo that runs along half of his body, and you realize instantly that it's Hunter.

You walk closer, sand between your toes as speak up to cue in the man that you're here, thought given his hearing he probably already knows.

"Couldn't stand the heat either?"

He turns around, watching as you stand just close enough that the water laps at your ankles. He laughs, brushing more stuck strands of hair from his face- water shining against his bare skin. You wonder if he walked out here shirtless, or if it's somewhere you didn't see on the way down.

"Yeah. Felt like I was going to suffocate. Don't know how the others can stand it." Gently crossing your arms across your chest, you sigh at the cooling feeling of the breeze and water against your skin. You can feel the sea mist against your face.

"Wrecker can sleep in an active warzone with no problem. Tech can sleep in this because he's probably pulled three allnighters before and finally crashed." Hunter lets out a quiet laugh.

You come a bit closer, the water lapping at your calves now. Hunter is standing up fully, and you can see that he's wearing black underwear, as the waistband is just visible when the water recedes a bit. The V of his hips and the small amount of hair shines with the waterline.

"Mind if I join you?" You say it genuinely, but there's a bit of an undertone with it that Hunter catches.

There was always something between you and him. But with the Empire, Omega, and everything else, neither of you had the chance to act on it. You sort've just, put it on the top shelf and ignored it for far more serious and important matters. The both of you had.

But with Pabu, maybe there's a chance that you could do something about it. Hunter had said that he liked you, but that he didn't want to complicate an already crowded ship, and risk muddying waters between the you while there was a bounty on all of your heads. It made sense, you agreed, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt a bit.

"Sure. I'd like the company."

You slip off your shorts and toss them up the beach so you're in your underwear and shirt, and walk deeper into the water; Up to your knees, your thighs. Each time you get closer and closer to Hunter. He abruptly stands more rigid when you pass by him, trying to go just a bit deeper for fun.

"Be careful there's tons of-"

Suddenly your leading foot doesn't touch ground and you go stumbling forward, but thankfully Hunter is close enough to catch you. He grasps you tight, managing to prevent you from going fully underneath the water. It's a moment that cues you once again into just how strong he really is, helping you stand upright and his hands staying on you.

"There's drop offs all over cause of the groundquakes. Be careful." The wet skin of his hands grasps your waist, shirt sticking to your skin above them. You smile a bit mischievous, not that scared after having been saved.

"Thanks." He lets out a laugh.

"You never did listen to me."

You always joked that it was because that you were technically not under his chain of command.

Hunter watches you for a moment, eyes just a bit hooded and face relaxed. You notices his eyes glance downward at your lips for a moment, lingering, before he leans in to close the distance and press his wet lips against your own. You can feel the curls of his hair dripping water down onto you, his breath warm on your skin.

Hunter makes no effort to end it, softly groaning into your mouth as his hands slide from awkwardly holding your waist, to resting more so on the small of your back. The tips of his fingers play with the top of your underwear. You can feel the rough calluses of his skin, his strong hands having a weight to them. His tongue brushes against your lips, his body presses closer to yours, even though there isn't much space to remove from between. It's amazing; Like drinking water after not having any for days. Now that you can finally have him you'll never be able to get enough.

Pulling away for a moment of air, you notice a warm look on Hunter's face.

"I was already glad Pabu turned out well for all of us, but," Even if he doesn't outright say it, you agree.

It's nice to be able to finally act on all of this. All of the want and the tension. You don't have to worry about so many things anymore. You just laugh and nod. Your fingers tightly grip each other behind the nape of his neck, keeping him trapped close to you.

"Yeah, it is. No more being crammed in the Marauder like a can of Tooka food."

Hunter can't help but smirk at your joke, silently agreeing. Instead of saying anything however, he presses his lips to yours, taking your bottom lip between his teeth gently as his hair brushes against you again.

If feels good to not have to wait anymore, to be able to wrap your arms around his neck tight. Even if it's just a kiss, it feels like a feast after so long of starving. You don't care if it's in the middle of the ocean, and you're both soaked to the bone with the sunrise about to start. Worst case scenario, you can just go back to your place.

You pull your lips away from his, the soaked fabric of your shirt sticking against his bare chest for just a moment. The outline of your chest is obviously visible from how the fabric suctions to your skin.

"Should we start heading back before the sun starts coming up?" Hunter shakes his head, a soft smirk on his lips. He looks over to the horizon for a moment, before roughly in the direction of where he and his brothers have been staying.

"Nah. We still have time."

#hunter x reader #the bad batch hunter x reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #Hunter/Reader #the bad batch hunter x you #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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littlegodzilla · 1 year

Text

Here I am again!!

This time I come with the second part of Pregnant. Yes I'm terrible with titles sorry they never were my best part.

I hope you'll like it.

Enjoy!!

Part 1.

**********

Pregnant. Part 2.

Daryl Dixon x Reader.

One shot.

Warning: Angst. Fluff. Giving birth.

Words: 3600.

Summary: Daryl keeps his word to take care of you while you're pregnant, but the things between you two are complicated.

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @lilythemadqueen @darylsgarden @thefemininemystiquee @green-eyedladywrites @hail-yourselves @ruinedbythehobbit @xxtinasxxblog @ravenwings73 @spenciepoo338 @b-tchymoon @minervadashwood @darylssluttt @let-love-bleeds-red @ravendixon @livingdeadblondequeen

******************

That was already bordering on the absurd. You are lying on your bed, your back against the headboard, you have a book in your hands, you are wearing a comfortable nightgown and your belly is huge. Really; huge. You don't know what the hell you're carrying, but it's certainly not a baby. But that's not the worst of it. The worst of it is Daryl.

The man hasn't left your side the entire time. Maybe it sounds idiotic of you, but he's not doing it in a loving or cute way, he's more like a jailer, sitting next to you the whole time, eyes fixed on your bulging belly, as if he has x-rays and can see through you to the baby's condition. You've tried talking to him a hundred different ways, but he just ignores you.

He's still angry with you, hurt, knowing you were pregnant, that you could an abort still weighs on his shoulders. You have tried to apologize, but nothing you say to him seems to calm his state.

This morning you wake up feeling a light caress on your belly, you slowly open your eyes feeling Daryl's body right behind yours, wrapping an arm around your waist, his hand resting on your bulging belly, you can't help but smile because the fetus moves looking for the warmth that Daryl provides. With gentle movements you pull up your nightgown to watch your belly move each time your baby does. Daryl, behind your body, moves up a little to see it too. One of your side marks the baby's little foot and the archer slides his hand into position, you grimace, some parts are more sensitive than others and sometimes it hits a little too pointedly.

"I have to go to the bathroom..." You say feeling like you're breaking the moment.

"Let me help ya." Daryl gets out of bed and carefully helps you do the same.

"Daryl, really, it's just a pregnancy and I'm already due, nothing is going to happen because I'm going to the bathroom by myself..." You try to talk some sense into him, but he just gives you an intense stare. "Fine, have it your way." You sigh giving up, going to the bathroom, feeling his presence on the other side while you go about your business.

"Denise still hasn't told us what it is..." You suddenly hear the hunter's voice.

A conversation, good, that's good.

"I think she's waiting to hold it." You're trying to joke when you feel a sharp prick. You grimace, but slowly sit up from the toilet.

"Dunno she'll be the first to hold it." You hear him say and a chuckle escapes you.

"Are you going to help me?" you try to provoke him, but again an intense prickling runs through you. "Uh..."

"Yer okay?" Daryl's voice is agitated and he peeks through the bathroom door.

"Yeah, it's contractions..." You explain and he frowns.

"How often yer havin' them?"

"A little... they started when I got up."

"Okay, let's go to the room again, I'll go get Denise." He tells you and grabs your hand to help you.

"Oh, God!" you groan as the pain increases and you bend forward. "I-I think it's coming..." You whisper looking up at him in fright.

"Okay, relax, it's gonna be okay." He promises you, tugging on your hand, insisting you walk. "I'm gonna go downstairs for a moment, okay? I need someone to go to the infirmary..."

"I'm fine, you can..." You gasp again and squeeze his hand.

"I'm ain't moving from here." He assures you and guides you to the window where you lean against. "Take a deep breath, I'll be right back."

Daryl hurries down the stairs, so much so that his footsteps echo like a troop, skips the last few steps and looks in all the rooms in search of someone inside the house. He curses under his breath, with all the people who are living there and now there is no one. It is a cruel irony. He chews his lip, nervously, in his mind searching for a plan that won't force him to go too far away. A whimper in the room gives him goosebumps, he wants to come upstairs to be with you, but you need medical help.

The door opens then, Daryl's heart flips at the sight of his companions, they are carrying some food to restock in the house and their faces change at the sight of him so nervous.

"Daryl, what's wrong?" asks Rick.

"Her water broke, I need Denise." He explains in a bark.

Michonne and Rick look at each other, Tara who goes with them drops the box from between her hands on the table and speeds out of the house, Carol and Michonne quickly go upstairs to help you, Daryl pretends to follow them, but Rick grabs his arm to stop him.

"It's better for us to stay here bro, it can get really weird up there."

"No, I..." He stirs nervously and lets go. "I put it there." He says feeling the tips of his ears redden. "I want to be with her."

"Okay, but try not to make her too nervous and listen to what the girls tell you." He advises him before Daryl runs off towards the stairs.

As he approaches your room he hears the commotion his friends are organizing, he hears them talking to you at the same time as they keep moving around the room. Daryl feels his heart in his ears, he is nervous and scared, the pregnancy has gone well, but what if everything falls apart now?

"God, Daryl I hate you!" you shout from the other side of the door and the hunter instinctively recoils.

"Easy, easy, take a deep breath, you're doing great." Carol's voice is heard. "Try to walk a little, you need to dilate by the time Denise gets here."

Again Daryl hesitates, what exactly is he doing up there, what exactly does he think he's going to be able to help you with? In all those months he's been by your side, watching you like a dog watching a cat, he hasn't moved an inch, he hasn't let you exert yourself any more than necessary, but now, now it's not up to him. He can't help you to make the process go faster, to make you suffer less, in that new world where medical comforts are scarce, his hands on your belly to calm the baby will no longer be of any use. He swallows hard, his fingers trembling against the wood of the door. He closes his eyes when he hears you moan again and shakes his head.

No, he's not going to put you through this by yourself.

He enters the room discovering you leaning against the window frame, panting and snaping loudly through your mouth, one of your hands clutching your belly, your knees shaking and your forehead is beading with sweat. Daryl swallows walking towards you, Carol steps aside to help Michonne, he takes his place next to you, stroking your back, taking the hand that held your belly. You look up between scared and relieved, he smiles trying to calm you down.

"I'm here, Denise is about to arrive." He assures you, his hand rubbing your back wanting to comfort you.

"It hurts so much, Daryl..." You groan, gritting your teeth. "If I don't..."

"Shut up, that's ain't gonna happen." He shushes you. "Let's walk around a bit, ya need to dilate." He doesn't even know where those words are coming from, but he feels his face burning.

"Daryl, listen to me..."

"I said no!" He barks. "Nothing is gonn happen to ya or the baby...please..." He gasps nervously, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Okay..." You whisper feeling the fear coursing through the man's body.

Nothing happens to you, as Daryl has promised you. The labor is long, painful, but you are both fine. Daryl has not left your side at any time. He has helped you through the whole process, even with Denise there, he has been your nurse, he has even dared to look under your nightgown before the doctor arrived.

Now the loud crying of your baby girl floods the whole room, you feel exhausted, physically and mentally, but the baby's wailing quickens your heart in a way you never thought possible. You've always heard about the miracle of motherhood, the bond that forms, you've never doubted it, but you certainly never thought it could be so powerful. As the tears cease to cover your vision, Daryl rocks your baby in his arms, wrapped in a clean towel, her crying has ceased a little, turning to soft babbling. The hunter walks up to you, there is a smile on his mouth and tears in his eyes as well.

"She's healthy and beautiful." He whispers as if he's afraid to scare her with his voice. You laugh and reach out your arms wanting to hold her.

Daryl sits down next to you to let the baby girl in your arms, she stirs a little, but accepts the change, the rest leave you both alone, you pull down your nightgown letting the baby feed for the first time. The archer doesn't take his eyes off every move you make.

****************

You leave the house feeling the heat hit your skin, your long dress of soft fabric relieves the suffocating feeling of summer. A smile forms on your mouth when you hear the squeaks coming from your little girl, who is playing with Dog near the garage where her father is fixing his bike for an upcoming outing.

Things haven't changed much, to your regret, Daryl is still setting boundaries with you, his love is completely invested in your daughter, but you are the woman who kept something so important from him, and he still hasn't gotten over it.

Even though Erin is already two years old.

It's been more than two years since you've had a conversation that doesn't focus on the girl's health, or related to a patrol, a changing of the guard, or the distribution of supplies. It's been over two years since you've spent time together, as a couple, over two years since Daryl decided to move into the basement of the house, leaving only to care for his daughter. He hasn't missed a single day, but you feel sadness when you think about it.

"You're leaving again?" You greet him by walking up to his position, he looks up from the bike to grunt something intelligible that can be deciphered as a 'yes'.

"I'm going out with Erin." He remarks to you matter-of-factly, adjusting a backpack on the back of the bike.

"With Erin? Where? Why?" you ask confused and worried. You know Daryl would never act behind your back, if something happened to the girl, he'd talk it over with you first.

"I'm going to Hilltop, to see Maggie and Glenn, I want Erin to meet Hershel." He shrugs.

"Daryl... How long are you going to keep this up?" you sigh not knowing how to confront him. "I already asked for your forgiveness..."

"It's not about asking, sorry." He gets up from the ground, leaving the rag on the bike. "I trusted ya, more than anyone else, more than a partner, ya know that's hard for me..."

"I didn't mean to keep it from you, I just needed to find the right way to tell you. I was afraid..."

"Ya really think I would have left ya when I found out ya were pregnant? Since when do ya think I'm that kind of person?"

"For the love... I don't think you are like that, Daryl, I never thought so, but this world is in chaos, children are vulnerable..."

"Y'know me so little?" He says with disappointment. "Yes, it's possible I would have freaked out a little and may have said things I didn't feel at the time." He bites his lip and scratches the back of his neck. "But it's ya, it was us..." You lower your head feeling your stomach clench at his words.

"I didn't mean to hurt you..."

"What would have happened if you had lost the baby?" he asks suddenly and you look at him in surprise. "You would never have told me?"

You stammer not knowing what to say, not sure what Daryl really wants to hear. He nods and walks towards you, but still keeps his distance.

"I will not destroy Erin's innocence or happiness, she is our daughter, I will protect her with my life, I will not let her lose her mother." He assures you and the lump in your throat grows heavier. "But now I can't... I need to get away..." He sighs, lowering his gaze. "I need to trust again..."

"Okay..." You whisper lowering your head, feeling your eyes fill with tears.

"I'm going to get a car ready, we'll go more comfortably the three of us." He says and dodges your body to drive away down the community street.

**************

You give him his space, you allow him that time to himself that he needs. You don't quite know if it's the right thing to do, if you should have talked, but on the other hand Daryl has already said everything he felt.

Erin is still his main concern and care. Everything Daryl does, is for the little girl, she is thrilled and you like him spoiling her too, but maybe he should check with you about some things.

"Can we talk?" You intercept him in the hallway of the house.

"I'm busy..."

"It's about Erin." You hush him and he pauses, looking at you. "I think we should set some boundaries." Daryl frowns. "I love the relationship you two have, but you can't just bring her a present every time you come back from patrol..."

"Why not?"

"Because it's becoming a habit, and she's still little, we can mold her personality, But what about the day she just waits on you for the gift you're going to bring her?" You try to talk some sense into him and Daryl grunts low, looking down at his feet.

"Erin adores you, but those gifts may end up forming a personality that we don't know how to control...plus Dog..."

"What's with the dog?"

"Nothing! But after that I think it's impossible to get over it." You smile trying to calm him down and you see his shoulders relax, nodding. "It's our daughter and I don't want to be just me being the bad guy in this... I'd like you to support me..."

"Okay..." he nods again chewing his lip.

"Okay... thanks for listening to me, I'll leave you to whatever you were doing." You wave goodbye heading for the exit again.

"Wait." He calls out to you walking towards you again. "I have some errands Rick asked me to go get." He looks at you through his locks of hair.

"Don't worry, I'll tell Erin you'll be back in the evening."

"Ya wanna come with me?"

You look at him with surprise, of everything he could possibly want to say to you, it was the thing you least expected. You stammer looking for something to say when you see him shrug.

"Carol's watching Erin, I asked her earlier to keep an eye on her."

"...Okay, let's go." You nod smiling a little, following Daryl to his bike.

This situation is not easy for him either. He knows that he himself has provoked it, that he needed some time to think, but perhaps his stubbornness has gone too far, however, every time he remembered that patrol, that he could have lost you, his blood boiled and he was not able to think properly. Erin was your bond, your bridge, what still held you together. Daryl knows that his feelings for you haven't gone away, nor will they, they have just letharged inside his heart, healing from his wounds little by little. He loved watching you take care of your little girl, how you spent sleepless nights when colic kept her awake, how you rocked her in your arms whispering songs Daryl didn't know, how you cursed, without malice, when she began to grow and started teething.

"Auh! You're just like your father." He heard you say one day when he came back from helping Rick with the Alexandria expansion. "Always with the teeth..." That was enough to stop him in his tracks, face red to the tips of his ears and give you some more privacy until Erin finished eating.

You've had the patience to put up with those years the distance he's felt you should have, the boundary he needed, now you've asked him to be a little firmer with Erin and he understands. He understands that it can be a problem in the long run and he doesn't want to spoil the girl either, it's a difficult world far from being able to have any kind of whim and he doesn't want the little girl to believe that she can get everything she asks her father for. At least not whims. By the time you've finished and accepted that he had nothing more to add, Daryl has realized that he's losing you too. That the barrier he's building is getting too high and he doesn't want that to happen.

That's why he's asked you to go with him again, he needs to find that connection that brought you together.

Daryl feels your arms around his waist as you get on the bike to leave the community. His breath catches for a second in his throat, but he disguises it as best he can.

"Are you ready?" He asks you over the noise of the engine.

"Yes, anytime." You grant him and he starts up, your hands tighten a little tighter around him and he bites his lip.

He remembers the first time you rode his bike, it may sound absurd, but it was purely for fun. In fact he found you on Merle's bike, parked in the prison yard. According to your explanation you wanted to check if it was comfortable, as the handlebars seemed too high in proportion to the rest of the vehicle. Daryl joked amused and gave you a little lesson on motorcycles.

He has to admit that when he saw you on his brother's bike, your arms stretched over the handlebars, your body settled on the seat, your legs spread and bent, your feet firmly on both sides of the vehicle, he didn't feel like yelling, to scold you for touching his stuff without his consent. He liked seeing you there, it seemed to fit you well, even though you had no idea how to drive.

"Wanna go for a ride?" he offered making you look at him with raised eyebrows.

"But I don't know how to drive..."

"I'll teach ya, step aside." He asked you pointing to the bike.

Daryl smiles remembering the surprised look on your face, how you awkwardly made room for him behind you on the bike, he settled in pointing out what everything on the bike was for, his chest pressed against your back. It was the first time you'd been so close together since the group ran out of the CDC.

"Clutch, brake, throttle and shifter." He said giving you a gentle tap on your foot. "We'll leave the gear shift for the time being, we don't need to go very fast and this way we won't attract the attention of the dead."

"Okay..." You whispered squeezing the bike's brake by instinct to keep your balance.

"Ya wanna go out and road test it?" he offered once again feeling you tremble against his body.

A lot has changed now, you still don't trust the bikes too much, Daryl knows that, but riding with him you feel safe, secure, you hug his waist like a life preserver and enjoy the ride glued to his body. Daryl missed that too, he's surprised at how easy it was to talk to you, how your relationship slowly developed and now he seems to be back to square one. He frowns tightening his fists on the handlebars of the vehicle. He's not an idiot, he's not going to lose all that because of his stubbornness, you and Erin are his family. The one he has chosen, where he belongs.

The engine slowly stops until you finally come to a complete stop, Daryl rests his feet on the ground and lets you get out first before he does the same. You stand to the side waiting for his orders, you don't know exactly where or what to look for, so you wait for him to say something. However, when he looks back up at you his arms come around you and wrap around you, pulling you tight against his body, hiding his face in your neck.

"I'm sorry..." He whispers and your eyes fill with tears, hugging him too.

"No, you don't have to apologize... I should have..."

"It's okay, that doesn't matter anymore." He breaks the hug and his thumbs brush your cheeks. "I've been too stubborn, but aib't wanna lose ya or Erin..."

"You're not going to, Daryl, that's never going to happen." You assure him and dare to move closer to kiss him.

There is a moment of hesitation, but the two of you kiss intensely. After so long sharing scant contact, that kiss overwhelms you both. You gasp, kissing hungrily, Daryl's fingers tangling in your hair and you cling tighter to his waist, pressing your bodies together until you almost melt against each other.

You had missed each other.

When you return to Alexandria the aura around you both is different, everyone sees it and feels it when you pass by. You've gotten everything on Rick's list, you've let off some adrenaline fighting a small group of Walkers and you've found each other again, it's been a most productive morning and now you just want to get home to your daughter.

Erin smiles and jumps out of Carol's arms when she sees you, she is still small and stumbles over her own feet but nothing stops her from reaching for your arms. You laugh lifting her off the ground to kiss her cheek, Daryl hugs you both, kissing the little girl's head.

"Let's go home." Daryl whispers in your ear, his fingers caressing Dog's head as well.

That night your bed is full again, Erin sleeps with you, cuddled in your arm, Daryl has you snuggled between his, wrapping his arms and legs around your body, one hand resting on Erin's small body, making sure she's there. Dog has made a hole for himself at the foot of the bed, though he's not allowed to sleep there. But no matter.

A night is a night.

The End.

***********

I hope you liked it!!

See you in the next stories!!

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mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess · 2 months

Text

Let death be kinder than man

Title and final sentence from this poem

It was a few weeks into his stay at Lotus Pier that Wei Wuxian discovered a large, water spider resting into a dark corner of his new room. It had a large, lanky body, as if made up of long threads of black silk, thin legs holding up a disproportionately small body. It appeared giant to Wei Wuxian’s frightened eyes, a terrible monster that would feast upon him much like the dogs that he had grown to fear.

The otherwise harmless insect had most likely snuck inside the room in search for warmth during the chilly spring evening, scurrying through the open window at dawn, when the air reminded of the icy middle of winter rather than the lukewarm evenings of late March.

Frozen in his spot by the door, Wei Wuxian did not know what to do, afraid the creature might run off to hide somewhere he could not see it – or worse, attack him. He had heard of poisonous spiders, of the pain that consumed their victims, and he could only be afraid of this fate befalling him as well. So, with wide, tearful eyes fixated onto the odd creature, his little shaking body struggled to come up with a solution.

“It’s just as scared of you as you are of it, if not more so.” Jiang Yanli had said, calmly, as she trapped the little creature between an upturned cup and a piece of paper. She had come to see whether Wei Wuxian had gone to bed – his nightmares had kept him from sleeping lately – and she came across the scene of the resting spider and the frightened boy staring at it from the opposite end of the room, so she immediately intervened, without disgust or fear.

“These spiders are harmless.” She further explained as she opened the window again, “It did nothing wrong and did not hurt you, in fact it must have been terrified as well.”

As she lifted the cup off the spider, the creature scurried down the windowsill and into the night, unharmed. Jiang Yanli closed the window again, and leaned down to pat at Wei Wuxian’s head, his eyes still wide – not with fear, but rather surprise and admiration. His shijie had not been afraid of the spider, in fact she had not even killed it!

“It is not a sin to seek warmth and safety.” She said, her voice warm, “So why should we kill something just because it lives in a way we don’t understand? It is not a sin to be alive.”

For all he bragged about it, Wei Wuxian had never killed anything – not with his hands, not up close. Surely, it was amusing to watch Lan Zhan fluster over the idea of roasting the bunnies he had painstakingly hunted for him in the back mountains of the Cloud Recesses, but in truth, he could never find it within himself to do such a thing. He could hunt pheasants all day long, but that was different – shooting an arrow from a distance made the kill seem less impactful. By the time he picked up the game, it was already dead.

But the mere thought of having to kill a living thing with his hands, drive a knife into soft tissue and hold onto a quivering body – it terrified Wei Wuxian in a way that he could not even fathom the thought. It was why he had never joined uncle Jiang in his hunts in the deep forests of Yunmeng, a task that Jiang Cheng seemed to enjoy alongside his father.

Jiang Cheng had not appeared bothered at all by the sacrifice, finding Wei Wuxian’s reluctamce rather ridiculous.

“There is an order to things.” He had said one day as he returned from a hunting party with his father, proudly displaying a large deer, “Some are hunters, and some are the hunted.”

Wei Wuxian stared at the lifeless carcass, eyes wide with fear and still wet with tears and blood. Its throat had been slit, as the arrows had only served to incapacitate it. A humane kill – or so they believed it to be.

“Who gets to decide who’s the prey and who is the hunter?” He asked, voice distant as he stared into the dead animal’s eyes, as if seeking to understand, to apologize.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Jiang Cheng snapped, “Some things live just to die.”

The servants took the deer to be skinned and cooked, a large feast afoot that evening. Wei Wuxian stared at it until it disappeared from his sight.

“Why are you so attached to a deer? You won’t care when you eat it.” Jiang Cheng tried again, somewhat comforting. The hand he placed on Wei Wuxian’s shoulder was meant to reassure him, but it did little more than remind him he was alive while the deer was not. What made him different than it? Had it not been him running for his life in the streets of Yiling years ago, hunted for food as well? Helpless prey?

“Don’t let shijie see it.”

“Why did you save us?” Wen Qing asked one evening as she tended to old, festering wounds on Wei Wuxian’s body, faint candlelight and shoddy supplies as her only guides in the vast cave. “Was it only your debt to Wen Ning and I?”

“No.” came the quiet, but confident reply. “It was not fair for you all to suffer. I would have saved you anyway.”

Shadows danced on the cave walls, but Wei Wuxian knew they weren’t just shadows, the formless dance of resentment equal parts mocking and enticing, whispering contradicting promises of comfort and revenge all the same. They wound more and more violently, enveloping the rocks in a thick, black mist.

“Why risk so much for a bunch of strangers bearing the name of your sect’s murderers?”

Wei Wuxian’s eyes flickered red and the shadows on the wall returned to the cracks in the rock, writhing with anger upon being restrained.

“It is not a sin to be alive.”

He had a nightmare, the night before it happened. A premonition. He had dreamt himself the deer Jiang Cheng caught in the forest near Lotus Pier, running for his life from a death that kept closing in no matter how desperately he tried to flee.

He had awoken with a racing heart and a bloodied hand that should not have been cut – and so, he rushed in the middle of the night to save the only one in the camp that had a chance to run away from the slaughter, the only one that did not deserve to become prey to hunters that sought blood for no reason other than a false pretense of righteousness.

A-Yuan had slept through it, through Wei Wuxian’s sprint through the Burial Mounds, alive with hatred and bloodthirst under the full moon, and hid him, wrapping his body in a robe he knew was too torn up to keep any warmth.

Prey always hides its young.

As he stares up at the breaking dawn, feeling himself slowly succumb to an unforgiving fate, Wei Wuxian cannot help but think over his life. Over the many spiders he had not killed, freeing them in the grass instead, the rabbits he had set free from hunting traps, the children he had defended from bullies, the Wen remnants he had saved only for them to be slaughtered anyway.

It is with kindness that he had treated the rest of the world – and he had perhaps expected that kindness to win him over at least some mercy, if not the same kindness in return. But now, as far as his eyes can see, there has not been a single ounce of either of those things granted to him.

And perhaps he wonders if it had been worth it – to be so good and loving to a world that had been so eager to contribute to his demise.

But as he feels his body dissolve into resentment, he cannot find it in himself to regret it.

He thinks of the deer, of the spider, of A-Yuan.

If I am killed for simply living…

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #writing attempts #wwx

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unicorncornflakes · 1 year

Text

Wedding dress - Modern!AU | Prologue

Next chapter |

Paring: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader x Aemond Targaryen.

Summary: You have always seemed happy. A perfect life: a good job, a good family... and a good boyfriend. Finally, you are going to marry Jace after three years of dating. Everything seems perfect, but you know it's not.

Everything falters the same night you meet Aemond Targaryen. You are no longer sure of your decisions... let alone about the wedding...

Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Enemies to Friends to Lovers/ Emotional Hurt/ComfortDrama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.

Author´s note: Hi everyone! English is not my first language, sorry for any mistake! All of them are my fault! Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!

Word Count: 1.8K

Aemond doesn’t even know her name. However, it is not something that he would need to know, right? Yes. Right. Correct. Perfect as usual. He listens how the water that is falling from the shower splash against her skin. He closes his eye, still listening. Her bare skin against his. How she bit her lower lip when he just entered in her cunt. She really liked it, she really needed it… needed him… But, he didn’t ask her for her name. It would be ridiculous to ask now. She didn’t asked for his either. She is not like others, like little puppies asking for a little bit attention. She just wanted a shag and she get it. That’s all. And it’s fine with him, right? Right. He is not a teenager, looking for the love of his life. He just saw her sitting at the bar, smiling with his friends, chatting, she blushed when their gazes met with that pretty smile, He was alone and smirked… He finished his drink and she went to the bathroom… he followed her… her back against the cold wall, he was so proud of his capture… she tried to say something… he kissed her and she spread her legs to him… her mobile phone starts to vibrated. All his thoughts are old history, and he is waked up from them by her mobile phone. Far better. He stills lying down in his bed; it was a good time, not the better of his life but… Someone is calling her; he can see the illuminated screen.

She appears again, her body covered by one of his towels. Actually, she looks terrible right now. Her eyes barely can meet his gaze. She just approaches to the table night and picked up her phone. “Dammit” she whispers.

He wants to ask her if everything is all right, but he plays cold, he is the hunter and she is the prey. “Your boyfriend wants to know where you are, little girl?” he teases her, mocking her. He stands up from the bed and licks his lips before his words “Tell him that you have finished the time of your life and you are about to have it again” He whispers in her ear and kisses his shoulder, caressing her arms.

“I have to go, sorry” she replies to his words nervous, and she starts to dress herself. Aemond is so confused, what the hell is going on? She doesn’t need more? She doesn’t want to have sex again? Normally he is the one who leaves in first place the bed, who calls a taxy for them… it´s his way to say: “Thank you for taking part! I will not call you again”, but she doesn’t even ask for his name or his telephone number, she is just going to leave. So easy.

He gets dress with his comfy clothes and escorts her to the apartment door. Her face is like in a funeral, and maybe he is a little bit worried about her, but his façade doesn’t show any emotion. “Hmm, it was fine, it wasn’t?” he smiles waiting for her reply. Normally, the women tells him how incredible was, how they will waiting for his call… she looks away in the moment that he opens the door. The girl opens her mouth to say something, but he grabs her collar with one his big hands while the other travels to catch her hips. He kisses her; his tongue explores her mouth, slowly. She tastes so sweet, so innocent. And this is the same girl who begged for his cock? He doesn’t want this to end. Aemond´s lips end that kiss with a wet sound and curl into a temptress smile “I will go tomorrow to drink again at the bar, Maybe we could spent another time like this… I was wondering if you want my number…”

“No” she replies with her eyes wide, she looks like a deer in the middle of the road, headlights blinding her. Her face is pure sorrow “I have to go” she only can say that. Aemond comes backs to his reality, is not his problem, it´s hers. Her eyes are so wet, it´s looks like that she is about to start to cry. However, she just leaves, not looking back. Aemond is so confused. He only closes his apartment door. What is his problem? Yes, it´s not his problem, it’s a just only-night girl. That´s all. He looks to the sofa, Vaghar, his cat, is lying down there. Her accusatory eyes know the truth: then why you offer her your number, Aemond? Maybe, she is the wisest in that room.

Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. It´s the only word that you can have right now on your mind. Fuck. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Well, sometimes there is a “Fuck”, or two, or three… your little and short black dress will never be the same, and your high heels inside of your handbag, you don’t think you are in conditions to foot them. Your legs just shaking. And all you can think is because there are trembling like that for the guilt… and not the guilty pleasure that this handsome guy just finished to give you. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit. It was supposed to be just an outing with her friends, maybe two drinks… and come back to home… something simple. You sighs, you fucked all for the first time in your life.

At last, you can sight Alara´s car. Your best friend looks at you with such concern that you just feel worst. “(Y/N), are you alright? I was just so worried, you went disappearance… and…” She just screams in the moment that you open the car´s door. “I was going to call Jace and…”

“And you called him?” You ask, your face went pale, sitting in the car´s seat.

“Of course not, I didn´t want to worry him. You told me that about his important project and all that shit. I was sure I would find you” she explains and starts the engine again “What were you doing here? In the posh part of the city?”

“Alara… I just fucked up all” you star to cry in silence. “I don’t know why… what the fuck I was thinking?” In that moment, Alara realizes what happened or at least she has an idea about what could happened, but it was just a matter of time. You are happy with Jace, of course, you are, but Happiness is not satisfaction. You don’t feel butterflies when you are with him, you don’t feel his kiss how is supposes to be, and you never told her, but she can bet that you´ve never cum with Jace. The problem is that he is your first guy, and you thought that it will be forever… yes, it was supposed to be until this night. She wants to ask, she wants to know… who was him? Was it a good session of sex or just a quickie?

“Well, C’est la vie! Speak up with Jace, tell him what happened… and cancel the wedding. I think that I can still get my refund of my dress” she tries to joke, but even she knows is a bad moment for joking. She sighs. Her attention is still on the road, but she can listen how you sob. Yeah, Thanks Alara for remember you that you are going to marry Jace. That makes you feel better and you just start to cry again. Alara nods her head “Look, (Y/N), I always knew that this was going to happen. He is your first choice, and normally first choices are the best choices, or not, who knows? But He is a puppy, and you don’t need a puppy, you need a wolf… a dragon…” She chuckles.

“I don’t know what to do…” You simply cry. This is bullshit, this is… the end. Yes, the fucking end and it´s all your fault.

“Really? Oh, c´mon, (Y/N)!! You deserve more than the missionary position”

“He is a good man, he doesn’t deserve what I did to him”

“Of course not! But he has sought it, always so sweet, I told him, you don’t need a sweet man, you need a rude boy”

“I don’t know…”

“Yes, you perfectly Know. And don’t think that you will finish your days alone and unmarried, just remember how that guy of the patch looked at you on the bar. He had his eye on you and… Oh!” she gulps; something in her brain starts to think. It´s not rocket science. “Oh my god! You´ve just shaft a lower copy of your father-in law!” She starts to laugh “My little vicious girl!” She can´t stop laughing.

You blush at the thought. Your cheeks turn red while you stop crying a little bit. Maybe, this guy is a silly copy of Daemon, but… No! Please, Gods, no. He was much more handsome, he was handsome as hell. However, you love Jace. Yes! You are so sure of your feelings, pretty sure actually. This was just… a stupid act, you´ve never done something like this before. You just wanted how is to fuck with another guy. Yes, yes, yes, it was simply that. And now, you know that you feel so great with Jace… so, so great. It´s not like this guy just make you cum only with his gaze or his voice, True? Well, you don’t know what to think. ‘You are good little slut’ he moaned in you hear. Your pussy tightened around his cock. You´ve never experimented something like that. He just smirked. He knew where to touch, what to say… and you have a soo good feeling in your lower stomach, never experimented… No, for the god´s shakes, you truly love Jace, that was just a silly moment. You just felt horny at the bar, because never before any man has looked at you like that guy did. That was all, and the alcohol made the rest. Well, you didn’t drink alcohol in that moment, but… yes, that was, just a stupid decision.

“I´m not going to tell anything to Jace” you just let on. Alara just look at you, jaw-dropping.

“What? (Y/N), look…” She starts to say, but you speak up quickly.

“I´m not going to meet this guy again in my entire life, it was a silly choice, I´ve realized, I love Jace, I will marry him in my perfect dress, we will have two children just like he wants… even we will have a fucking perfect golden retriever!!!!!” you shout angry, full of rage, maybe with the situation, maybe with you, maybe because you will never meet this man again… But that´s true, you will never meet him. At least, this is what you believe.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #modern!aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond modern au #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen modern au #aemond targaryen fanfic

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bump1nthen1ght · 10 months

Text

Out of The Woods (Epilogue: Part 2)

Pairing: M! Werewolf x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Domestic Life, Established Relationship

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1797 words

Summary: Nothing says love better then an impromptu living room dance party

(AKA a fun snippet of you and Heath's life)

A/N: The fluffy piece won second in the poll and I already has this in the works so I hope y'all enjoy!!

ALSO

Recommended listening: Bet On It from High School Musical 2

(which if you haven't seen this scene, do yourself a favor and watch it lol)

In a weird way, Heath being a werewolf didn’t come up too often in your house.

It was probably because many of his wolf traits had become normal to your everyday routine. His long hair, his shaggy tail, and even his wolf form assimilated into your isolated farm-life with very little issue.

(And with the hunters off your back and most townsfolk none the wiser, it could stay that way)

It was only when he’d ask you a pop culture question everyone should know, or ate the steaks you had bought raw as a midnight snack, or forgot how your air conditioning work, that you were reminded of it. How long had Heath lived as an “other”, detached from society and other people? You very rarely broached the subject, knowing how he would get quiet and bristle at the thought of the past. Of living on his own, on the edge.

So you’d answer his simple questions, let him gnaw on some bones, and let him tell you when he needed to. It was better that way.

You’re watching a movie one night, not a terribly good one, where the main character gets dragged to a club by her friends. They’re convincing her she needs to ‘live a little’, forcing her out of her comfort zone and onto the crowded, sweaty dance floor. The scene is dark and not very well lit, the background music not properly mixed and drowing out most of the audio. Though you guess thats pretty accurate to the club experience.

“Do people actually do that?”

Heath asks, head laid in your lap as you play with his hair.

“Do what?”

“Go to…that.” He points at the scene, eyes scrunched up at the jarring lights and mass amounts of people. “Go to a crowded place in the dark and dance? Why not go somewhere with some room? This place looks like a fucking nightmare.”

You laugh, watching as the clumsy main character dives and dances between egregiously grinding couples.

“It definitely can be, but people seem to love it.” You twirl a finger through Heath’s hair, only paying half-attention to the clunky dialogue. “And it can be nice once in a while, especially if you’ve got a good group of friends.” You chuckle. “Me and my college buddies would sometimes get wasted before hand, go and dance for an hour or two, then come back and get in our pj’s and watch a movie. I prefer clubs in short bursts; they can be kind of exhilarating, but exhausting.”

Heath hums, pressing his head into your palm when you scratch behind his ear. It makes you smile, but not before seeing the slightly melancholy look on his eye.

You look up at the screen. Now the main character is thoroughly drunk, holed up in the bathroom with her friends and laughing her ass off. They all dance terribly, cracking jokes and hugging each other the way drunk people do. They’ve all got big smiles on their face, even in the grimy bathroom.

Heath has gone quiet, your hands still running through his hair. He sighs.

You weren’t a big club person anymore, but you do remember loving that time of your life. Sure, you’re shitty knees and early bedtime weren’t great for it now and you’re sure you left those clubs wondering why anybody does that on the regular, but you had still been able to do it. To knock it off the checklist, even just to say it wasn’t for you.

You don’t think Heath ever did. Never was able to be that careless, joyful, and deliriously young.

“This movie sucks ass.”

Now that’s more like Heath.

—

The look on Heath’s face lingers with you for the rest of the night and into the morning, enough to remind you when you both sit down to watch something again the next night.

“How about we don’t watch a movie tonight?”

Heath turns his head up from his tub of popcorn, quirking his brow.

“Oh, did you wanna play some video games?”

“No…” You look at the dimmer switch not too far from the couch. Its right next to your back porch door, adorned with some fairy lights you hung up and proceeded to never use. That, combined with the never used bluetooth speaker above your fireplace, gives you an idea.

You hop up from the couch, queing up a certain song in your phone before flicking the dimmer and the fairy lights. The low light makes Heath’s wolf eyes shine, his ears flicking as he readjusts to his surroundings. With a little beep from the speaker, you set down your phone and jog in front of Heath, letting the song start. His ears swivel again, looking up at you like the adorable puppy he can be.

“Isn't this that song from that movie a couple nights ago?”

“Yeah!” You bop to the beat, shimmying your shoulders to the heavy drum beat intro. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it. I heard you humming it in the shower yesterday morning. Now come on!” You grab and pull at Heath’s hand, even knowing he’s far too big for you to make him budge. “Come dance with me! Everybody’s always talking at me-”

Heath rolls his eyes, but you can tell he enjoys your discordant singing.

“Everybody’s trying to get in my head. I wanna listen to my own heart talkin’. I wanna listen to my own heart talking. I need to count on myself instead. Did you ever-”

With a dramatic pout om his face, Heath chuckles and sits up, grabbing your hand as you sing into a pretend microphone. But you’re still doing most of the dancing, shaking your hips back and forth. You wiggle your eyebrows and try to encourage him to move.

“What exactly should I do?”

“Just…” you wiggle your fingers, “let your body roll with the music. Let it consume you.” Hands still interlocked, you begin to sway Heath’s arms back and forth. He gets some of the idea, bobbing his head. Your shoulder movements become exaggerated, trying to look as ridiculous as possibke to encourage Heath to loosen up.

“I’m not gonna stop, that’s who I am. I’ll give it all I got, that is my plan.” Heath laughs at your flailing arms, beginning to shimmy his shoulders like you are. You mime the dramatic facial expressions of Zac Efron, gesturing to Heath to join you in singing. He rolls his eyes, but starts mutter-singing anyway. You didn’t expect him to know all the lyrics, but he’s actually hitting all the words with you.

I knew he liked High School Musical 2.

You pull Heath out to the middle of the living room, giving you more space to add some footwork as the chorus hits. You yank Heath’s arms back and forth and shake your hips, which only makes Heath laugh more.

“-you know you can bet on it, bet on it, bet on it, bet on me!”

You let loose one hand and stretch out to the side on the long note, when Heath pulls you back toward him for a spin. You giggle uncontrollably, singing louder and louder, squealing when Heath dips you. He nuzzles your nose and gets a peck to the lips in return.

You hop up, throwing your hand to your forehead when the dramatic slow part begins. He rolls his eye again, but you can see him nodding along.

“It’s no good at all, to see yourself and not recognize your face-” Heath hops in with the backing “oohs”. You point an exaggerated finger. “Out on my own, it’s such a scary place.” You’re cut off when Heath pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist. But you’re even more gobsmacked when he sings the next part, in earnest.

“The answers are all inside of me. All I gotta do-” His voice is surprisingly melodic, deep but not flat or even off-pitch. “-is believe.”

The natural pause in the music would be the perfect time to sneak in a romantic kiss, but you’re both caught up in the performance now. You both turn to look at an inaginary camera when the music drops, arms now locked as if dancing ballroom.

“I’m not gonna stop, not gonna stop till I get my shot.” Moving across the living room with messy footwork, you two belt the chorus. Heath draws you down for another dip when the long note of “-bet on meee” hits. It’s silly, but you do feel like a pop star.

From the outside you’re sure you look absolutely insane. Just two adults flailing and dancing around their living room as speakers blast. If you had neighbors, they’d definitely complain or be calling the cops by now.

But right now, its just you and Heath. Dancing together, hearts pounding, with big smiles and stupid amounts of giggling. Just a pocket of your life, all sweet and your own.

The song slowly fades out, leaving to lean over and shamefully realize how out of breath you are.

God, I need to start hiking or something. This is embarassing

Heath, with his wolf stamina, is not even breathing heavy and catches you in a hug, peppering your cheek with kisses. He bounces on his heels and practically throws you down on the couch, his tail wagging behind him. He snuggles into your neck, blowing raspberries into your skin and making you laugh.

Still letting your heart slow down, you exhale and look at Heath.

“So….how’d you like you’re first dance party?”

“I liked it!” Heath pants, a big stupid smile one his face. “More than I thought I would. You being so terrible at dancing really helped.” You gasp, playfully smacking his shoulder. He blows another rapsberry into your neck, the pleqsant rumble in his chest. After a coupe more play hits and giggles, Heath relaxes into your arms. “I’ve…never really done anything like that before. It was nice.”

“Well, I’m happy to be your first.” You run a couple fingers through Heath's hair, stopping to scratch at the base of his wolf ears. He nuzzles even deeper. “And if you ever feel the need to dance party again, just let me know.”

The two of you sit like that awhile, as you often do. Just basking in each other's warmth, soaking in the skin contact.

You can’t wait to spend more firsts with him.

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #fluff #female reader insert #werewolf #werewolf x reader

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possibly-a-table-or-just-gay · 9 months

Text

I Had All And Then Most Of You, Some And Now None Of You.

The ringing seemed to echo in his ears, becoming the loudest noise in the room by far. Darius found himself nervously tapping patterns onto the sofa, subconsciously biting the tip of his tongue.

Please pick up.

Please.

-Click-

"Darius? Hello?"

Chapter: 1 2

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Hello!! This chapter is long overdue, I have terrible work ethic, but I think it is longer than the first one, if that makes up for it. It's not my best work, but enjoy!!

Again thank you so much to @theninjabozo and @genderlessjacky for helping me with this one, you're the best and I love you /p

Also @thenugking you are a godsend thanks a million

-------------------------------------------------------

Darius couldn't sleep. This wasn't an unusual occurrence, between Hunter's night terrors, Eberwolf's zoomies at 3 a.m and his own... uncomfortable wake-up calls, a late night reunion wasn't an uncommon scene in the Deamonne household.

However tonight he just didn't feel like going back to his empty room.

He leaned back on the couch cushions, scrolling through his camera roll, looking for a good photo of Hunter to send to Principal Bump tomorrow morning for the official flyer derby team (if he was going to be awake at a titan-awful hour he might as well get some of the things he was putting off out of the way.)

He noticed he'd been mindlessly scrolling for too long when instead of the grinning faces of his friends and family looking back at him, it was a much younger Darius and Eberwolf.

He flicked past several old photos of stiff coven events and Eberwolf's smug selfies.

His fortys

His thirties.

His twentys.

Alador's wedding.

Ah.

There was one picture of that night, a large group photo with the newlyweds pride of place in the centre. He saw the tense smiles of people he didn't recognise. He saw Odalia's nails digging into Alador's shoulder like she was expecting him to make a run for it. He saw his own grimace, his well disguised concern.

He felt tears prick up behind his eyes. Titan. Why couldn't he just say what he thought when Odalia weaseled her way into Alador's life, instead of letting his unease grow and grow until he was screeching it at the man he loved.

He needed to talk to Alador. To apologise, to say the words fumbling at the bottom of his stomach, to just hear his voice.

His thumbs trembled as he searched for Alador's contact, still punctuated with the little purple hearts from his teenage years.

Would he even have Darius's number saved anymore? Their arguments were legendary, Darius knew himself well enough to know he didn't always have the best control of his temper.

Well. Here goes nothing.

The ringing seemed to echo in his ears, becoming the loudest noise in the room by far. Darius found himself nervously tapping patterns onto the sofa, subconsciously biting the tip of his tongue.

Please pick up.

Please.

-Click-

"Darius? Hello?"

Darius's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't exactly expected to get this far.

"Hey, um h-hi."

"... are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, are you- are you alone?"

"Uh, the kids are in bed?"

"Can I come over?"

"Sure."

"I'll be there in ten."

-Click-

Darius stood on the doorstep to the Blight family manor, debating whether he should ring the doorbell or not.

He hadn't planned to turn up at Alador's feet at some ungodly hour when he woke up that morning but well, here he was.

Before he could ditch this whole situation while he had the chance, the heavy wooden doors swung open to reveal Alador still in his work coat, despite it being well past a reasonable time for that.

"Hi."

Seeing his face hurt so much more than Darius expected. All that was flashing through his mind when he saw the dark bags under Alador's eyes was the foul words he spat, the insults he let escape his mouth and leave a bitter taste on his tongue.

All reasonable thought left him at that moment. He couldn't feel his feet move beneath him as he stepped forward, enveloping Alador in a hug.

Alador jolted, feeling Darius's weight on his body, his well built arms wrapped around his shoulders. He noted the witch's shuddering chest, soft muffled sobs. It took him by surprise for a second. Darius seemed to always hold up an air of cold elegance. He was never vulnerable.

He reached his hands up to hold Darius's back, locking the two of them together. He heard Darius's breath choke up, staying like that for just a moment longer before the former coven head pulled away, tearing them back to reality.

He thought he saw Darius's face flush for a second as his green eyes refused to meet Alador's.

"... Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah I just- I- I'm sorry."

The engineer's brow furrowed in confusion.

"For what?"

"For everything. For being an absolute asshole to you for twenty years."

A smile tugged at Alador's lips, and Darius breathed a soft sigh of relief, although he was quick to refocus his attention.

"Are you still in your work clothes?"

Alador looked down as if he was also only registering this now.

"Oh, yeah. I was working on a project and lost track of time and-"

Darius rolled his eyes and scoffed fondly. He moved forward to unfasten the buttons holding the sagging overcoat closed before catching himself and realising this was maybe too close a gesture for someone he'd only had his first real conversation with in over two decades just a few days ago.

He glanced up at Alador's face and murmured a soft "Can I?"

Alador flushed a beet red, stammering to find any words to say before just nodding.

Darius slowly unbuttoned the remaining tarnished clasps, untied the faded grey belt that cinched it slightly at the waist and slid the jacket off Alador's shoulders. He did his best to hide the smug grin spreading across his lips at Alador's reddening face as he melted the coat into abomination matter in his hands, reappearing hung up in the coat rack behind him.

"So erm, do you want coffee?

Darius shrugged. If he was being honest, he hadn't planned what he was going to do once he'd actually spoken to Alador.

"Sure."

He followed the engineer down the winding halls to the kitchen, seating himself at the counter, one leg crossed over the other.

"How do you take your coffee?"

"Black is fine."

"Ever the purist, as usual."

Darius let his shoulders relax, leaning into the playful banter.

"Well at least I have taste. That coffee maker is absolutely hideous."

"I apologise it's not up to your incredibly high standards, Sir Deamonne."

Alador grinned, sliding the coffee across the counter to his guest.

Darius sipped the drink, eyeing the engineer up and down, noting the slumped posture and dark shadows under his eyes.

"You're not sleeping."

"Wha- Yes I am?!"

He raised an eyebrow sceptically, not buying it in the slightest.

"Hm. No."

Not giving Alador an opportunity to object, he continued.

"You look like you haven't slept in at least a few days, most likely a week, which means the last time you actually rested would be..."

Darius let his sentence trail off when he saw the other witch turn pink, but his statement was made. His expression softened, and when he next spoke his tone was soft and gentle.

"You need to rest. You're working yourself into the ground and it's going to come back to bite you sooner rather than later if you carry on like this."

Alador kept his eyes pinned to the floor, shifting on his feet. The motion sent Darius back several days, to the conversation whispered under the silence of those quiet hours before morning. I didn't want to be alone again.

Darius tiptoed cautiously into his next words, trying to force the uncertainty out of his voice and keep it low and hushed.

"...Lead the way?"

He saw a soft smile cross Alador's face and let go of a breath he didn't realise he was holding. Turns out he didn't want to be alone tonight either.

Alador stopped at the doorway to the room, freezing at the threshold. Darius joined him at his side, peering into the master bedroom.

It was modest enough, starched white sheets layed out on the seemingly untouched bed. Cardboard boxes labelled "Odalia" in messy black marker were stacked against the walls next to a half disassembled vanity. Try as Alador might have, the room still clearly belonged to his ex wife. Darius could taste her cheap perfume on his tongue, a sickly floral scent marking her territory.

The only part of the room that didn't fit the sanitised atmosphere was a worn blanket and pillow that lay on the.... on the floor.

Darius's stomach sank as he slowly came to the realisation of what that meant. When he spoke his voice died in his throat, coming out choked and hoarse.

"Alador... you slept in a bed, didn't you?"

The engineer stammered, tripping over his words.

"She... she didn't make you sleep on the floor."

Aladors scrambled excuses and explanations were drowned out by the dull pounding in Darius's ears as he felt his blood boil. The whites of his eyes blackened, his irises glowing as he balled his fists. She was going to pay, She was going to regret ever coming near Alador, if she lays a wretched finger on him-

"Dare?"

And just like that he was yanked back to reality, becoming acutely aware of every movement around him. He felt Alador's hand brush against his knuckles. He let his past lover grasp his hand, interlocking their fingers. He closed his eyes and exhaled heavily, quelling his fury. He gently squeezed Alador's hand. The last thing Alador needed was the wrathful, violent Darius that always seemed just under the surface.

When he opened his eyes again, they had returned to their normal appearance. He noticed Alador trembling, his feet practically nailed to the floor. His eyes shone with a terror like a deer caught in headlights, reflecting the pale moonlight.

He was paralysed there, frozen. He wasn't going to snap out of it, not on his own. He needed to get out of there, he needed someone to take him away from here-

"OH MY TITAN DARIUS WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!?-"

He didn't even remember to keep his voice down when he felt his feet being swept from under him, lifted up by strong arms. His hands grappled for something to hold on to, clinging to Darius's shirt with an iron grip.

Darius couldn't stifle his laughter at Alador's reaction, shrieking like a wild teenager.

"Come on, you. You are going to sleep somewhere, whether you want to or not."

He made his way down the stairs, engineer in arms, trying to slow down to hammering of his chest, trying to ignore how Alador holding onto him for dear life made his face flush.

Alador did his best to not think about how easy it was for Darius to just carry him away. Titan, he hadn't been held like this since they were kids, when Darius used to whisk him away like a rescued damsel.

Descending the last few steps, Darius held Alador a little closer to not jolt the engineer around too much as he retraced his steps back to the living room, setting him down on the lavender couch as gently as possible. Alador looked down, trying to hide his reddened face.

"So, erm. Do you want to stay a bit or, or do you want to watch something or-"

Darius smiled softly, sliding next to Alador.

"So what incredibly important project has you working through the night without a minute of rest?"

Alador's eyes lit up.

"Okay, so even though the part of the coven sigils that activated with the draining spell is non-functional now, they still limit the witch's ability to do magic. But I was thinking, if we rearrange the components of the branding gloves, we can probably remove the sigils and reverse the limitations on magic usage!!"

Darius tried his best to listen, but tiredness was taking over and Alador's words were turning into white noise in his head. His mind wandered to how cute Alador got when he was excited, how his hands seemed to be doing just as much talking as his mouth.

"-We'd need someone with experience at using abomination magic in that extension-of-self way though. You'd be really good at that actually."

Alador paused, glancing back at Darius who just gestured for him to continue. The gaps between Alador's yawns were getting shorter and shorter and Darius figured if he let him ramble for a little longer he would finally tire himself out.

Alador's breathing slowed as his sentences trailed into silence, exhaustion finally winning out in the end.

A small smile danced across Darius's lips, as he stood slowly, his joints sore from not shifting in a while. He scooped Alador into his arms and let him curl sleepily into his chest.

Padding up the stairs as quietly as possible, he made it to the landing. Pausing for a second at the doorway of the master bedroom, he pushed it open with his hips as to not wake up the witch he was holding too harshly. He placed Alador's sleeping body down on the pressed white sheets, shifting pillows to support his head.

He knew he should leave now, he should leave Alador to rest undisturbed, but he couldn't move, like there was a thread tethering him to the witch by the pit of his stomach. Pulling the duvet over Alador's shoulders, his hands lingered over the other witch for a second longer.

He tore his gaze away, using every ounce of determination to rip himself from the moment. Every step away felt exhausting, like swimming upstream. Every step away was just wrong.

That night was a one-off, he found himself murmuring, rubbing circles into his palm with his thumb in a way he hadn't done since he was a lost teenager. A one time situation, and that is all it will ever be.

The creak of the heavy front door closing behind him did nothing to ease his mind.

These things don't fix themselves overnight.

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:DDDD

@linkdudehero @non-bee-knees it has been posted at last!!

Hopefully there were some funnies in there with the angst, and if you were in anyway dissatisfied with the ending, please be comforted by the fact there is a chapter 3 in the works (but don't get your hopes up about it being posted in a timely manner)

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changbunnies · 10 months

Text

Sugar (Outlaw 2) 18+

♡ Pairing: Cowboy/Outlaw!Changbin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: wild west au, cowboy/outlaw au, porn with plot

♡ Word Count: 7.5k (i got carried away lmao)

♡ Summary: Despite how terrible of an idea it is, Y/N can't seem to stop herself from continuously going back to the outlaw she let defile her. This is a sequel, and you can read part 1 here !

♡ Warnings: strong language, changbin is still mean and condescending in a "nice" sort of way. not as dubcon as part 1 but it is still a major theme, references to guns and gun fights, bounty hunters, and death + murder, discussions about morality + having a morally gray sense of right and wrong, discussions on purity and being impure / tainted / a "whore" (remember that this is a historical setting, and those views don't hold up! your worth as a person is not measured by purity and sex), their relationship is probs toxic lmao

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): references to part 1 and other past dubcon situations, petnames (darlin, sugar, sweetheart, good girl, baby. reader is also refered to as a toy once but not outwardly called one), power play, oral (f+m receiving), fingering (f receiving), orgasm denial, dacryphilia, unprotected piv, creampie

♡ Notes: a sequel to Outlaw that no one asked for but i was compelled to write :') as usual, if you’re interested you can check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams !

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

no first paragraph before read more because it goes straight into a dubcon discussion and i don't want anyone who would be bothered to accidentally see it! <3 just click the read more and enjoy !

You really should know better. You should know it’s a bad idea to keep going back to the outlaw who violated you, who treated you like a toy, who’s sense of morality was gray at best and entirely nonexistent at worst. How foolish must you be to continually make the same mistake over and over again? To return to the man who treats you as an object suited to his needs and entertainment?

Yes, you really should know better. And yet, here you are again, with the object of your fury and desire standing before you with that signature smirk and amused glint in his eye. Because despite everything, you find yourself addicted to him. You seek him out, again and again, unable to resist no matter how much the rational part of your brain screams at you not to.

The first time you met him again following that fateful first encounter was by coincidence. Changbin had strolled into your town as the sun hung low in the horizon, tying his horse to one of the many hitching posts outside your family’s saloon before entering. You didn’t notice him right away, much too busy serving drinks to the men on the opposite end of the bar from where he sat, but once your gaze finally reached his..

You froze completely, eyes wide and breath halted. His brow raised when yours eyes met, a delighted glint in his eye as his famous smirk overtook his features. Your mind and heart were racing, grappling between what you should do and how you will look if you make a scene out of him being here. He didn’t intend to stumble upon you here when deciding to settle in town for the night, but by God, was he glad this was the place he chose.

He had noticed you first evidently, and was just waiting for the moment when you’d notice him too. And it was amusing seeing you so disconcerted by his presence, your strong persona faltering the minute he entered your space. He knew where your safe space was now, knew where you called home and where to come find you if he ever so chose to. You, the timid rabbit ensnared in a trap, and Changbin, the deadly hawk ready to devour.

You had to get it together, had to proceed as normal if you didn’t want someone else taking notice of your odd behavior and asking questions. If you were in your right mind, you could probably think of an appropriate excuse to why you were pushed off kilter, but Changbin left you anything but in your right mind.

“What can I get you tonight, sir?” You said after taking a brief moment to steady yourself. The entire exchange of looks the two of you shared likely lasted mere seconds in reality, but it felt like an eternity. He smiled, a mischievous one that did your racing heart no favors, before he answered, “A bourbon, if ya please.”

The night continued as normal for a time following that, with Changbin acting as a surprisingly well behaved bar patron. Though, the only reason he was well behaved was because his eyes were fixed on you. He watched in delight as you wrangled in rowdy patrons and ducked advances from drunken men left and right. It was fun for him; watching you in your element like that, navigating the clamorous saloon with ease and redirecting trouble with a well practiced stern sweetness. Even your rejections to your patrons were sweet, almost sickeningly so; batted eyelashes, rehearsed apologies and excuses, with empty promises of a ‘next time.’

Eventually it came time for the saloon to close, with locals shuffling through the streets back to their homes while guests from out of town had to decide whether or not they’d be paying for a room to sleep off the drink in. And it’s during that time that Changbin finally caught you alone, the door to one of the saloon’s secluded storage cupboards left ajar after you entered the room.

You were just following your nightly routine, checking what stock you had left and taking note of what you’d need to get more of before the week’s end, when you heard the subtle squeak of boots behind you. “Hey there, darlin’,” he smiled as he closed the door behind himself, stepping closer to you after the lock clicked.

“Changbin-,” your voice came out in a stern whisper, unconsciously taking a step back as he moved closer, though there wasn’t far for you to go in the small space, “Get out.” “Now, now,” he tuts, feigning disappoint as he takes another step forward, further closing the gap between you, “is that any way to treat a payin’ guest?”

“Regardless of that, you still aren’t allowed in here,” you scowled, but his grin didn’t falter; if anything, it grew larger, gratified by the brave front you were putting on. If it were with anyone else, your bravery wouldn’t be a front at all, because you certainly are a brave woman- just not with Changbin. With him, you’re weak, your spark diminishing the instant his eyes fall on you. And you’ll fight it, of course you will, but when all is said and done, you will give in. Because that’s just the effect he has on you.

“If you’d rather we do this out in the hall, I’m fine with that,” he challenged you, knowing very well that’s the last thing you’d want. His hand reached up to your neck, pushing your hair behind your shoulder and exposing your neck. “It’s a shame the marks have faded,” he said, voice low as his fingers traced your skin, “what do ya say we bring ‘em back, hmm?”

“Absolutely not,” you hissed, your hands landing on his shoulders as you tried to push him away from you. He stood firm despite your pushing, letting out a low chuckle as his fingers moved from your neck to your shoulder, and down the length of your torso. And to be fair, you weren’t actually using your full strength; you were holding back, and he could tell.

He’s familiar with how a woman who's desperate to get away will react- screaming, hitting, clawing; none of which is what you’re doing. And maybe that would make sense if you were the sort of person who’s fight or flight instinct was to freeze instead, but you're not. You’re brave, you fight, you don’t let men get the better of you.

So why is it that when it’s Changbin putting you in this situation, you easily relinquish control? Why were your attempts to put up a fight so feeble, as if you want to let him overpower you? The answer to that question is clear- the biting words and scornful looks doing little to hide the glimmer that hides underneath. You want him. And if you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself yet, he’d help you see it.

He brought his face close to yours, foreheads just barely touching, the scent of bourbon strong on his breath. The saloon had grown quiet with the closing of the bar and guests retiring to their rooms, and it made you wonder if Changbin could hear how hard your heart was beating. Your eyes were looking to the side, avoiding his piercing gaze.

Eyes that looked straight through you, eyes that uncovered your deepest, darkest desires with ease, eyes that left no room for secrets or lies. Those were the kind of eyes Changbin had, and he used the power they held to his advantage with you. You can’t hide from him; his eyes strip you bare, leaving you as transparent as glass.

Whether you admitted to your desires or not, he’d be the winner. If you gave in right away, confess that he filled you with an impulsive need you previously thought impossible, he’d take pride in the fact that he made you that way. And if you fought, if you denied and rejected, you’d grant him satisfaction when you inevitably crumbled to his touch. Either option left you the loser, because he knows he’s right, and there’s no escaping it.

A one-sided stalemate, where the victor was already predetermined. Your fate unavoidable, Changbin’s hold on your senses undeniable. He has you, and that's why you couldn't look at him. Because no matter how hard you denied it, the truth would be apparent. Much to your dismay, he sees you for who you are- try as you might, there would be no hiding it.

“Look at me, sugar,” he said as his hand hiked up your dress. He wanted to see the expression you held, wanted to see how far your self determination had fallen. Whether it was a look of submission this early on, or a look of pure contempt, it wouldn’t matter; because either way, there’s fun for him to have with you.

“What do you want from me?” you asked with eyes squeezed shut, voice beginning to tremble as his hand rubbed between your thighs. You’re not even sure why you asked, entirely; you knew this was nothing but a game for him, an addictive cat and mouse. He’s in it for the pleasure, for the thrill of making you crumble to his whims- it was as simple and clear as that.

“Oh, darlin,” he cooed as he leaned his head further down, lips brushing against your ear, “you already know what I want.” Fuck. He could see goosebumps erupting on your skin, noticed the way you instinctively tried to close your legs together, though his hand instantly stopped the act from happening. Fun, he thinks. Toying with you is so fun.

“I want you,” Changbin continued, bringing his other hand to your face and forcing you to look back at him. “I want you pinned down underneath me. I want to hold you by the throat while I fuck you. I want to watch you become stupid from my cock.”

Oh, God. Your face was on fire, heart bursting out of your chest, hopelessly ensnared by him; caught in a trap you had no hope of escaping from unscathed.

“I’m not going to let you do that,” you managed to say without stuttering, a feeble attempt to stand your ground, though the proverbial floor to stand on no longer existed. But with his hand nestled between your legs, you couldn’t hide the way your body reacted to his words; couldn’t hide the way arousal pooled in your underwear. Once again, your body has betrayed you.

“Is that right?” he grinned as he spoke, the amusement in his voice clear. He knew you’d let him have you, but the fact that you were denying it makes things much more exciting. “I don’t think that’s true, sugar,” Changbin said, now directly rubbing over your soaked underwear, “I think you’ll let me do anything I want.. I think ya want me just as bad as I want you.”

He was right, of course. Maybe you’d hide it for a time, but you won’t be able to resist for long. He’s frustratingly smug and assured, but it’s not without reason. Your self respect, your dignity, your purity- what had become of it? In blatant terms, it’d been ruined- forever marred by his touch, the damage to your body and mind irreparable. And whatever you could reclaim from what was left has been forever tarnished by your own actions. Tainted by your desire for the man in front of you, your thirst forever unquenchable, the very sanctity of your being in the hands of a criminal.

And in the end, he fucked you right there, in the small, tucked away storage cupboard, with your back against the wall, and legs around his waist. His strength held you up, his arms hooked under your own and supporting all of your weight, your desperate noises muffled only by clamping your hands over your mouth.

He made regular visits to the town after that, becoming a loyal regular of the saloon, charming staff and other patrons alike with his wit and allure. It was infuriating watching him play the role of a simple wanderer looking for work, his true nature and motives known only to you. No one else seemed to know what lied underneath the charming front. The worst kind of man, a manipulator through and through, a deviant who beckoned you to his room in the late hours of the night, the proprietor to a secret affair not yet uncovered by those around you.

However, he couldn’t hide his identity forever; his past actions eventually caught up to him when a gang of bounty hunters began to sweep the area with wanted posters in hand, eager to collect the reward for the head of Seo Changbin. He left town in a blaze of smoke and gunfire, shooting back at anyone who dared follow him.

You were relieved at first, knowing that Changbin couldn’t return without instigating a fierce gun fight for his life. But as the weeks passed, a gnawing feeling began to eat away at your chest. The bounty hunters moved on, carried by the promise of wealth further west, and yet Changbin hadn’t returned to town. And that was a good thing- or at least, it was supposed to be.

Did you.. Miss him? No, that was impossible. Completely unfeasible, utterly out of the realm of possibility. That’s what you told yourself, but the gnawing feeling doesn’t recede in the slightest; if anything, it grew stronger with each passing day. Did you really want to see Changbin again? No, it had to be the hormones talking- surely you weren’t actually hoping to see him again. He twisted your beliefs and made you confused, that’s all; you could recover from this with time.

But you’d been thinking a lot lately about what made Changbin different from the bounty hunters that hunted him, and you came to the conclusion that they weren’t much different in the end; they went wherever money and women called to them, a penchant for violence ingrained in the very essence of their actions. The only difference between them and Changbin was that he didn’t live under false pretenses or a faux sense of morality; he knew exactly who he was, and he didn’t pretend to be anything different in front of you.

And can you call yourself morally superior when at the end of the day you are still taking a life in exchange for money? Can you really say that one sin justifies another? Is it okay to kill someone if that person was in the wrong first? You didn’t think about these things until you met Changbin, and if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know where you stood anymore on whether or not someone like him deserved to die.

You found yourself questioning the people you used to applaud, and wondering if you were really as good of a person as you thought you were. Maybe these complicated feelings always lied within you, and all it took to bring them out was meeting the right person.

No, it was all Changbin’s fault that you’ve begun to feel this way. He warped your thoughts and desires, he made you doubt what you once held firm to, he’s bad for you.

But even so, knowing he’s bad for you, knowing that he makes you act irrationally, knowing that he triggers your deepest impulses, you are here again. Back in the place you first met him, the place you once called home, surrounded by the ghosts of your past, of the person you were before you met him.

“So we meet again, darlin’,” he said when your figure first emerged in his doorway, tense frame instantly relaxing when met with the sight of you, hand falling from its readied position on his gun holster. You are no threat to him, hungry for his touch as you are. Any threat from you would ring hollow, because for better or worse, he knows you. And you're certainly capable of a lot of things, but fighting against your basest desires doesn’t seem to be one of them.

You stepped inside fully, trying to have a nonchalant air about you, though you’re sure Changbin was able to see through it. He always reads you easily, always takes notice of even the most minute of changes in your body language. You’re sure that even now, he can sense the subtle shy anxiety that wells under the surface. But regardless, you’re here now, having come too far to retreat at the last minute.

And you know that he knows what it is you want, knows why you are here, but should you still be honest? Debase yourself by admitting your most carnal of desires? But at this point, what were you if not tarnished? Your worth can’t go any lower than it already is- you were already brought to your lowest point, so what was the harm in indulgence? If you were already ruined, why shouldn’t you disregard all you’ve ever been taught, all you ever thought you knew, and let him devastate you?

But no, you can’t do that. It would be too easy, and if there’s anything you’ve learned about Changbin, it’s that he doesn’t like easy. He wants you to stand your ground, he wants you to argue and fight against everything he says and does. He wants your eyes angry, for your voice to tremble with indignation, because it’ll make it that much better when he dismantles you.

He wants to be the object of your ire, for your resentment to build to the point of eruption, only for it to be eclipsed by how good it feels when he fucks you. Whether or not you truly hate him is up for debate at this point, and ultimately doesn’t matter much. What does matter is the fun you grant him, the cat and mouse game culminating into a moment that can only be described as pure bliss.

“I know, I know. Ya want me to fuck you, don’t ya darlin’?” He smiles as he says it, anticipating what your reaction will ultimately be. A glare maybe, with your face hot and red, or mousy as you finally admit openly how bad you want him. While the looks of animosity are his favorite, he likes the shy looks too; the timid expression on your face when he catches you off guard, a quick glimmer of embarrassment or sheepishness before you can conjure your antipathy to replace it.

“No. I want to fuck you. And you’ll let me,” you say, hoping to come across as confident and stern, “You’ll do whatever I want you to do.” “Oh? Is that right?” Changbin lets out a laugh, head tilting as he grants you another amused look. That’s certainly a surprise, but he’s not opposed to it. He can easily do that- give you a taste of control, that is. It’s an interesting proposition; a fun one.

He can let you believe you’re the one in charge, that you have the power to make the rules and that he’ll follow them. And maybe he will follow them- to an extent, of course. He’ll give you his ‘yes, ma’am’s’ and ‘whatever ya say, darlin’ ‘s, play the role of the obedient man cursed to follow your whims, hit you with tongue-in-cheek remarks and let you ‘tame’ him with harsh looks and biting words when he steps out of line. All so that in the end, when he easily takes all the control away from you, it’ll be that much sweeter.

It’s a fun game you’re offering him, so he’ll play the hell out of it. “Sure, sweetheart. You’ve been a good girl for me, I can give ya a reward,” Changbin smirks as he says it, clearly not taking you seriously in the slightest. But that’s okay, because you didn’t expect him to; you knew any attempt to wrestle control would be met with an amused smirk, you knew that none of your harsh words would do anything but fuel his delight.

The reason you’re doing this isn’t to try and gain some sense of control that you know you won’t be granted, and you don’t intend to make him genuinely submit to you; it’s just part of the game between you, and you’re doing your part to make it the most enjoyable it can be. Because if you’re addicted to Changbin, if you can’t escape the way his touch makes you feel, if you can’t get past the need and craving for him, then you need to make him just as addicted to you.

Just as your thoughts are consumed by him, you want his to be consumed by you. Think of only you, crave only you, make it so that no one else in the world can compare. You want to be the first person, the only person, he goes to when he wants to fuck, you want to be the drug in his veins, you want to eat away at his self-control the same way he eats away at yours.

Changbin could easily fight against your touches, stand firm in place and overpower you if he so chooses, but he’s letting you push him to his knees. “Oh, this is what you want?” he asks with his usual smirk, his hands already moving under your dress to squeeze at your thighs. “You could’ve just asked, sweetheart. I’ll do it if you ask me nicely.”

You roll your eyes, letting a scoff escape your lips. The only way he’d listen to a request from you is if he relentlessly teased and embarrassed you first. You can easily picture the way he’d grin at you, and the condescending tone and words he’d use to make your fists tremble and skin flush. Yes, even if you asked nicely, begged sweetly, or even desperately, he’d use it to ruin you.

“I’m not asking,” you say as you pull your dress up and over your head, tossing it to the floor beside you, because if Changbin is going to be between your legs, you want a full view of it. Rather than act though, he stays completely still, looking up at you with a lifted brow and not at all subtle smirk, as if to challenge you. A look that says ‘aren’t you going to make me?’

You bring your hand to his hair, tugging roughly as you pull him closer to your center, commanding him to get started. “So pushy, are you always this needy?” he teases with a laugh, but adheres to your demand nonetheless, wasting no time in letting his tongue out to lap at you, his hands now squeezing your thighs rougher than before.

Your previous affairs were a secret you held close to your chest, as you knew you’d be branded a “whore” if it was known you’ve had sex whilst unwed. That being said, you’d only done the act with those you had serious interest in. Sweet men, who treated you like an angel, with the utmost care and consideration. Careful touches and soft kisses that were carried through all interactions with you.

When they ate you out, they did so sweetly, with slow kitten licks and gentle caresses to your thighs. And it was nice, you even thought you liked it at the time, but you know that’s not what you want now. Everything about Changbin is different from every other man you’ve been with, and you want this moment to be different too. You want him to devour you, to make a mess of you, to make you feel a pleasure so foreign and intense that it consumes you.

And that’s exactly what he grants you- a pleasure so explosive you have to bite your lip to hold back the noises that threaten to leave you. The drag of his tongue can only be described as euphoric, and when his lips wrap around your clit and suck, you can’t help but let out a loud, shuddering gasp. You want to keep watching him, but you can’t- your eyes refuse to stay open, the pleasure much too intense to do anything else.

He can tell you’re close when your thighs start twitching, quick breathy pants and whines leaving you freely. And that’s when he gets an evil idea- an idea that will make you desperate and whiny, one that will rip any semblance of control out from your hands and place it back into his. A strong suck on your clit, a few quick flicks of his tongue, your body trembling as your mind screams close, close, close-

And in an instant the feeling is gone, all the built up pleasure receding into nothing. A frustrated whine leaves your lips, looking down to see Changbin staring back at you with that stupid fucking smile he has every time he successfully drives you crazy. “F-Fuck, you fucking asshole, you-” you prattle off insults, though the act does nothing but add to the satisfaction he feels; this is exactly the reaction he was hoping for.

You move your hand to the back of his head, pushing him back to where you want him and demanding that he keep going. And to your surprise, he does, though not without a muffled snicker first. And if your mind wasn’t so clouded by the desire to cum, you might have realized what his intentions were by going back in without a fight, but you didn’t have the mental capacity for that any longer. All you knew is that you wanted, needed, to release all over his tongue.

Changbin goes through the same motions as before, expertly building you up to your release, getting you so, so close, before pulling away again right before you can. Another frustrated, high pitched whine leaves you, hips stuttering in an effort to feel something, anything to bring your release to you. You look down at him again, eyes glossy from the tears welling in them, and fuck, that look really does it for him. The pretty look of aggravation mixed with desperation makes his cock impossibly hard.

You try to push him to your center again, but this time he resists, staying firmly in place and watching the way your expression twists into one of near anguish with an amused satisfaction. “Changbin-” your voice doesn’t come out anywhere near as stern and commanding as you wish it to; instead, his name leaves you as an urgent, desperate mewl. “Aww, poor thing. Ya gonna cry?” he mocks you, head tilted and an infuriating grin plastered on his face.

Fuck. You knew it wouldn’t be long until Changbin flipped the script and put you back at his mercy, but this soon? And he didn’t know whether you were genuinely vying for control or not, if you went into this with the intent to fight until the bitter end or if you were resolved to relinquish it after some time; what he did know is that he loved seeing you like this. Broken almost, resolve crumbled like a sand castle hit by a wave, so weak and ruined, all because of him.

“Want me to keep going?” he asks in a tone that is almost sickeningly sweet, another twisted smile of satisfaction on his face. You nod frantically, a shameless display of your need, and he smirks, answering your reaction with a condescending, “Why should I?” Another whine, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as indignation and desperation eat away at you.

Changbin coos when he sees the tears fall, another “poor thing” leaving him. Funny how he’s the one on his knees, yet is the one entirely in control. You beg wantonly now, countless utterances of “please” and “i need it”, all sense of restraint and shame seeming to have evaporated the moment your tears began to fall. The display makes his cock throb in his trousers, erotic beyond words, utterly enthralling and so pretty.

“Shh, that’s enough darlin’,” he says as he takes one of your legs and guides it over his shoulder, fully ready to support your weight and keep you standing for what he plans to do next. You keen when his tongue finally makes contact with you again, body shuddering as your head lolls back. One arm snakes around the leg not propped up on him, squeezing at the flesh within his reach, while the other moves between your thighs, fingers prodding at your entrance for just a moment before sliding easily inside.

He gives you no time to adjust to the thickness of his fingers, setting a fast pace with them from the very start. Your eyes roll back, a cacophony of lewd noises filling the space as your high quickly builds back up for the third time. Between the earlier denied orgasms, the relentless pace he’s setting now with his fingers and the way his lips feel wrapped around your clit, you’re already dangerously close.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, both as a means to ground yourself and to keep him as close to you as possible; and it only takes a few more thrusts of his fingers and flicks of his tongue to send you over the edge. You cum hard, Changbin’s body and hold on your leg being the only thing keeping you upright as the waves of pleasure course through you. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your entire body shaking, with the only noise you’re capable of making being sharp gasps as your release spills on his tongue and fingers.

You sink to the floor when he moves back and lets you go, legs akin to jello and no longer able to support your weight after having what was easily the most intense orgasm of your life. Your eyes are still closed, breathing labored as you try to bring your mind back down to earth. Changbin meanwhile rises to his feet, being the one to look down at you now.

It’s a pretty sight; your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, tear stains on your cheeks and body flushed. But it could still be prettier, and he knows exactly how he wants to achieve that look. “Open your eyes, sweetheart,” you hear Changbin’s voice call to you from above, and when you do you’re met with quite the sight.

His cock is in one of his hands, trousers having fallen to the floor around his ankles. You must have been too lost in your haze to hear him unzip his pants, or to hear the sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor. You look up at his face next, taking in the expectant gaze he’s shooting at you.

You’re half tempted to say no, to make a big show out of protesting and coax him to put you back in your place, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want his cock in your mouth right now. It’s not often you’re granted the pleasure of sucking him off, as he usually he goes straight into fucking you after he’s done with his merciless teasing- so you’ll play the good girl role, just this once.

You shift to be fully on your knees, opening your mouth wide for him and letting your hands rest on his thighs. He brings a hand to the back of your head, pushing you the rest of the way when you hesitate, ensuring you take the entirety of his length in your mouth in one go. You gag when the tip touches your throat, but Changbin’s hand holds you in place, preventing you from instinctively retreating.

The way you're looking up at him through your lashes, eyes glossy with fresh, unshed tears and nose touching his pubic bone- it’s enough to drive him wild. But he won’t lose it just yet; he’ll grant you a small kindness by giving you a few moments to adjust, to familiarize yourself with the feeling of his cock down your throat and learn how to breathe through it. He can’t let his favorite toy completely suffocate on him, after all.

He sets a brutal pace once he’s sure you’re adjusted, sparing your poor throat no mercy. You can barely even hear the low groans he lets out over the salacious sounds leaving your mouth and throat. It’s a struggle not to choke and sputter every time he thrusts back into your mouth, and each failed attempt causes the tears on your lashes to spill over.

The saliva that has pooled in your mouth escapes out of the sides, sliding down your chin and dripping onto your chest. You can’t help but squirm as he holds your head in place, your nails digging into his thighs as you try your hardest to ignore the growing ache in your jaw and effectively breathe through your nose. You can feel his cock twitch against your tongue as his pace becomes the slightest bit more sporadic, and for a moment you think he intends to cum down your throat, but he doesn’t.

He pulls out instead, a subtle smirk on his face as he watches you take big, gulping breaths to allow air back into your lungs. You wipe your face clean with the back of your hand before you look up at him, knowing he’s far from done with you. He takes you in his arms, helping you rise to your feet (though you doubt he’s helping you due to any sort of caring, and is only doing it to get you where he wants you faster.)

“Come with me, darlin’,” he says as he leads you to the bed with him, paying no mind to the unsteadiness in your legs as you try to keep up with his pace. Changbin sits first, pulling you onto his lap immediately after. You already know what he wants, but you can’t- your knees ache from the time spent on the hard floor, and the usual strength in your legs has all but evaporated.

“Bin-” you start to whine, complaints lingering on your lips, but he tuts before you can even begin to speak them. “What’s wrong, sugar? Didn’t ya say you wanted to fuck me?” Fucking asshole, throwing your words back at you and looking at you with that devilish smile. He should know you weren’t even that serious about it! He’s just being cruel. “I can’t, I-”

“You can,” he interrupts, guiding you to align yourself with him, “You will.” His hands are holding your hips, another expectant look on his face as he waits for you to sink down on him. “You’re so fucking mean-” you cry, body trembling as you lower yourself onto his cock. He just grins, knowing very well that if you truly hated how mean he was, you wouldn’t have crawled your way back to him.

Your pace isn’t all that fast given the ache in your knees, but contrary to what you’d expect, Changbin doesn’t scold you. Instead, he cups your face under the chin, directing you to look at him. “So sweet, aren’t ya sugar?” he smiles, thumb rubbing your cheek while his other hand stays firmly on your hip, “such a brat sometimes, but you do whatever you're told in the end, don’t ya? Such a good girl when ya want to be, huh?”

You should be ashamed of the way his words fill your stomach with butterflies, but you truly can’t help it. He knows what he’s doing too; knows how to drive you absolutely crazy, knows how to be mean in just the right way, so that when a praise hits your ears it affects you all the more.

However, despite your best effort, you can’t get your legs to cooperate with you any further. Your legs feel so heavy, and having your hands firmly placed on Changbin’s chest for support does nothing to ease the unsteady trembling. It’s a subtle sort of humiliation- making you do something he knows is near impossible in your current state.

The tears are welling in your eyes again and threatening to spill, frustration in your gut and exhaustion completely taking over your body. Your legs throb from the exertion and fatigue, your energy beyond spent, you can’t keep going. Your pace slows to a near stop, and you look at him pleadingly, teary eyed and pouty, a silent beg for his help.

He knew you wouldn’t be able to do it for long, but he made you do it anyway, because this is what he really wanted. He wanted to watch you turn into a pathetic, whining mess, he wanted to relish the look of anguish on your face. He has to be cruel to you, because the end result is always so addicting.

“Tell me what you need, baby. Need my help? Need me to fuck you?” he smiles sweetly as he asks, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. You nod quickly, leaning into his touch that shouldn’t at all be comforting but somehow is in your near-delirious state. “Use your voice, sweetheart. I gotta hear you say it.”

God, he loves when you get to this point- where all anger and shame has been replaced by the overwhelming desire and need you feel for him. You’re babbling out pleas over and over, and he takes a moment to savor the sound of it before shushing you. “Hush now, darlin’, I’ll give ya what you want.”

He flips your positions easily, you landing on your back against the mattress and Changbin now hovering over you. You stare up at him as he sinks back into you, the sight of him making your heart race. It’s infuriating how handsome he is, especially in moments like this, where sweat lingers on his brow and his jaw clenches.

Changbin is good at acting unaffected by you, always able to make it seem like he’s not at all enthralled or addicted, always making your need for him appear one-sided. But the truth is he needs you just as bad as you need him, because in you he has finally found his perfect match. You wanted him to crave you solely, to look for you and only you, not knowing that he already was.

He didn’t seek you out all those times after your lucky re-encounter because it was easy or convenient; it’s because it was you, specifically. He’s no stranger to brothels and bordellos, nor to the coy advances of working women. There are countless women in the world, countless establishments he could spend his coin at to satiate himself, but they weren’t you. All he wants and all he needs, the very picture of perfection, you.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a sensual kiss as he starts to thrust in earnest, and the act makes your stomach twist. He’s kissed you before of course, but only ever with the intent to tease or humiliate you, and never while his cock was inside you. And you don’t know why, but it feels good. He can tell you like it too, by the way you clench around him, and from the way a pleasured noise he’s never heard before leaves your throat.

He keeps his lips attached to yours, tongues sloppily rubbing together. His fingers dig into your hips as he fucks into you, his tight hold leaving indentations behind in your skin. Changbin curses under his breath when he pulls away, both of your highs quickly approaching. You’re squeezing him so tight, and the feeling of your nails digging into his skin is intoxicating.

“Fuck, ‘m so close-” he groans, pace quickly becoming more sporadic. And this is normally the point he’d pull out, letting his cum spill between your thighs or onto your chest and stomach, but.. He looks at you, and all he can think about is how you’re his. He wants no one else to have you, no one else to touch you, no one to even look at you the way he does.

So instead, he pulls you in even closer, your chest firmly pressed into his as he presses his lips to your ear. “Gonna cum in you darlin’. You’d like that, right? Want me to fill you up?” You gasp at his words, one that transitions into a moan as your arms and legs wrap snuggly around him. It’s a bad fucking idea, but you want it so bad.

Whatever the consequences are, you’re too far gone to care about them. You want him to claim you in all ways; his teeth, his nails, his cum- it didn’t matter, so long as you were his in the end. “Y-Yes, please, I want it,” your answer comes out between shuddering inhales, desperate and eager for Changbin to release inside you.

It only takes a few more thrusts for him to spill inside you, the sensation of his cum shooting in you both foreign but good beyond what you ever could’ve imagined. His hips don’t stop moving even as he cums, and the continued thrusts paired with the feeling of being filled up for the first time sends you over the edge too, body convulsing in his hold as pure pleasure fills your senses.

You’re both breathless when you finally come down from your high, body going limp as you release Changbin from your hold. He pulls out slowly, and fuck, the sight of his cum dripping out of your hole is utterly intoxicating; he’s definitely going to become addicted to it. He lies next to you when he’s done admiring the view, looking at your face next with a subtle smile.

“What do ya think about being my lady? Hmm, baby?” he asks as he pulls you in, pressing your body into his as his arm wraps around your waist. You blink as you process it, a sort of warmth overtaking your body as the question settles in you. “...are you serious?” you can’t help but ask, unsure if this is going to transition into some sort of tease if you say yes or if the question is genuine.

“Dead serious, darlin’,” Changbin answers easily, his smile the most earnest you’ve ever seen it to be. Not at all condescending, no trace of a humiliating remark waiting to be said; he’s simply asking you a question, with nothing more beyond it. And he wouldn’t say it’s love that drives him to make you his, because genuine love is a foreign thing to a man like him, but this is likely the closest he’ll ever get. He just wants to know you’ll always be there, that you’d follow him anywhere he goes, that no matter where life takes the two of you, you’ll belong to him and he’ll belong to you.

And fuck, it’s a really bad idea. You really, really shouldn’t- you should know better. So why are you entertaining the idea? Why does the thought of spending your days with someone so objectively terrible make you so happy? He’s really fucking ruined you, it seems. He’s a terrible man who does terrible things, he’s a criminal, he’s a manipulator- your immediate answer should be a resounding “no.”

But the truth of the matter is that Changbin makes you feel like no one else; infuriated but desired, broken but simultaneously put together. You’ve come to enjoy the dynamic you have with him; you now understand the fun in the back and forth, the pleasure to be had in the banter and fight, how impossible it is to let someone who matches your energy go.

A life with him would surely be a life of turmoil, of danger and of risk. But it would also be one of pleasure and unforeseen excitement. Your life was good before meeting him, but it was also dull and predictable. You were likely to spend your whole life in the same place, forever at the beck and call of your parents, or a man that while sweet, wouldn’t excite or please you the way Changbin does. If you say yes, your life will change forever.

No, that’s not quite true; your life already has been forever altered by meeting him. You’re already his, and this is nothing more than a formality. Because why else would you be here right now, if you weren’t already his? For better or worse, you belong to him, body and soul, and you’ve come to realize that nothing will change it.

“Teach me how to use a gun and I’m all yours,” you finally say, and Changbin laughs, clearly pleased with the answer you came to. “You got it, darlin’. Just promise ya won’t shoot me by the time we’re done.” “No promises. I’d be careful if I were you,” you smile, tone light and playful.

“Is that a threat, sugar?” he meets your smile with one of his own, tilting his head to the side as he always does when he’s amused. “Sure is. Don’t pretend you don’t deserve it,” you answer, and he laughs again, pulling you into a kiss afterwards. Body to body, limbs tangled together as you smile at each other, he thinks about what a perfect partner in crime you’ll be from here on out.

#skz x reader #changbin x reader #skz smut #changbin smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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