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bratbby333 · 7 months ago

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i will possess your heart – satoru gojo

-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, extreme dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k

Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.

Click

January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.

Click

January 16th, 6:38 PM

My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.

Click

January 19th, 6:11 AM

Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.

Click

January 19th, 8:27 PM

I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it.

Click

January 23rd, 5:13 AM

Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.

Click

January 23rd, 9:53 PM

She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again.

Click

January 28th, 7:06 PM

My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be.

Click

February 2nd, 8:31 AM

I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.

Click

February 5th, 6:21 PM

I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.

That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her.

With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.

He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.

It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area.

Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit.

In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love.

These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?

Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to.

He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces.

Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine.

Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get.

You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.

Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away.

On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you.

“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.

When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you.

There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf.

You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.

Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.

His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month.

“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening.

You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.

His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well.

Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.

Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.

Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?

But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.

Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease.

For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.

Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text:

-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)

He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.

-I would love that. What time, my love?

Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.

-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.

Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours.

A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man…didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.

Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text:

-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.

You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks.

“What is it?” your coworker asked.

“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face.

Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.

You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.

No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries.

You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now.

“January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.

When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony.

You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head.

“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner.

“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest.

“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks.

Click

Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you.

“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?”

You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life.

The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting?

Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room.

As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.

He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.

Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.

A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.”

“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.

“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.

He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.

Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue.

A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.”

Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.

“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.

“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”

He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.

“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.

“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you.

A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy.

Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote.

Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him.

“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand.

“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”

Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him.

“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”

You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment.

Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”

Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage.

“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”

It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.”

You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening.

“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex.

“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then…” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch.

You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most.

“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.

You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you.

“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours.

author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.

this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol

alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆｡˚

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ange1heavensent · 3 months ago

Text

━ You Wanna Guess? ━

Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

Content Warning: +18 content, minors do not interact, fic is based on Guess by Charli xcx featuring Billie Eilish, oral (r! receiving), kitchen sex, thumb sucking, porn with plot

w/c ≈ 1800

Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes away from you, more specifically keep her eyes from drifting down to your lower back, the small tattoo peeking out from the lowrise jeans you were wearing, however it wasn’t just the tattoo that was piquing Ellies interest. The black lace thongs that were sticking out were much more interesting.

It was supposed to be a lazy Sunday, but you decided that the two of you needed to get out of the small apartment you were sharing. You'd been cooped up there since Friday evening and Ellie would’ve been fully contempt with a weekend full of nothing but you two being close to one another, but you had other plans for how you were going to spend your Sunday and Ellie decided to tag along.

You started with lunch and then the two of you were roaming the streets of Boston, checking off boxes on your shopping list. First looking for new duvet covers and that's when Ellie noticed the black lace fabric sticking out. You were crouched, looking at some blue flannel duvet covers and Ellie couldn’t help but stare, because it was her favorite pair. The black lace ones, with the bow in the front. She also knew that they were part of a matching set and she wondered if you were wearing the bra that went with it. The black lace lingerie set was something you picked out together, Ellie's gift to you that Valentine’s day - which was more of a gift to herself, but that’s irrelevant.

It was as if the underwear you were wearing was haunting her. They were plaguing her mind. She tried to keep her composure, but they kept on reappearing throughout the day. At the bookstore, when you once again crouched down to look at the classics on the bottom shelf, or at the grocery store when you were reaching for something on the top shelf. Ellie was capable of keeping her hands off of you in public, most of the time. The two of you had been together for a long time at this point and Ellie had been in situations were she found you incredibly sexy, to the point where all she wanted were to press you up against the nearest surface and just fuck you sensless, but she’d often managed to keep her cool and wait until you were at home. Now however, she was a ticking time bomb and it was the underwear's fault.

The two of you had finally made it home and were putting away the groceries together. The way you moved around made the underwear peek out several times and Ellie couldn’t keep her composure any longer, she needed you now. So, Ellie decided to move towards you, wrap her arms around your waist and bury her head in your neck, breathing in your scent. “Ellie” you said while playfully trying to get her away from you, her breathing tickling the side of your neck. Ellie’s arms only wrapped tighter around your waist and she huffed out a “what” you could hear the pout on her face, “I’m not doing anything,” she continued, the pout turning into a smirk. “Yes, you are,” you chuckled, “you're distracting me, let me just finish up and you’ll get my undivided attention.” “ You better” she only huffed out, then returned to bury her face in your neck and her arms remained around your waist. She clung onto your body as you moved through the kitchen, putting away the remainder of your groceries. Then, as you promised, your attention turned towards her.

You turned around in her arms, your hands moving to cup her face. Ellie’s hands which used to have a respectful placement around your waist, were now drifting down and placed them on your ass and hips. Ellie sucked in a breath as she buried her thumbs underneath the waistband of your jeans, stroking the material she was entranced by the whole day. “What has gotten you so needy, baby?” you asked softly, Ellie answered by pressing her lips on yours. Because she was needy and she was needy for you.

Ellie’s hands moved to unbutton your jeans and when they laid on the kitchen floor, the place where they belong according to Ellie, her hands immediately gripped onto your thighs to place you upon the edge of the kitchen counter. “Been thinking about this all day, babe,” Ellie said while placing sloppy kisses onto your neck. “About what?” you questioned playfully, she had been giving you ‘bedroom eyes’ all day, but you couldn’t come up with a reason as to why. “The fucking underwear, baby,” she said looking into your eyes, while simultaneously cupping her hand inbetween your legs. You let out a strangled “oh” both for the clarification but also the sudden pressure.

Ellie’s lips trailed down your chin, neck and onto your fabric clothed chest, which Ellie immediately made an effort to remove. A curse slipped out from her lips as she saw that you were in fact wearing the matching bra. Her hands and mouth latched onto your lace clothed tits, massaging, licking and biting lightly. Your hands flung into her hair, weaving themselves through her auburn locks. “Baby please,” you pleaded, pushing Ellie’s head down to where you wanted her the most. She chuckled into your skin, lips placing light kisses down your stomach, “look who's needy now, sweet girl” Ellie muttered looking up at you with a smug look plastered on her face.

She grabbed onto your thighs, angling your hips upward for better access. Surprised by the fast motion you let out a yelp, as an apology Ellie kissed your thigh. Ellie’s hands were on your hips, keeping you in place, fingers weaving themselves in your black lace underwear, playing with the fabric, teasingly. Ellie’s lips were on the move, from light kisses on your plush inner thighs, to your lower stomach, but never at your center. You tried to guide Ellies head towards your pussy, but she kept on teasing kisses around it. You couldn’t fathom the level of self control she must have at this moment, if this was any other day, she would’ve already been two fingers deep already.

You let out a whine and uttered “fuck, Ellie please just-” when she moved away from your lower half, positioning herself to be face to face with you. You were cut off by the fast movement of her hand tangling in your hair, pulling at it slightly. A gasp was released by you at the sudden movement. Ellie gazed deeply into your eyes, “you’ve been teasing me all day baby, and I can’t have a little fun with you? Such a brat,” she said mockingly, one hand moving to cup your cheek, thumb slowly tracing your bottom lip. You pushed your tongue out slightly, licking her thumb. Ellie decided to move it along further, pushing her thumb deeper into your mouth, you wrapped your lips around it and started sucking. Ellie watched with fascination, and the facade of self control started to crumble. Deep breathing could be heard from the both of you, Ellie released her thumb from your mouth, with a last swipe of your bottom lip, before her hand disappeared between your thighs. “So wet for me,” she stated, while her thumb was stroking your clit through your soaked underwear.

Feeling how wet you were, Ellie decided to move downwards again, however this time at a much faster pace. Her head was buried between your thighs in no time, she gave one lick on your still lace covered core, before moving the fabric aside and dove in. She was lapping at your core like a starved woman. She was licking, sucking and lightly biting on your clit, pulling moans, whines and pleads out of your mouth. It was messy, Ellie’s lower half of her face fully drenched in your wetness. Her hands were holding your hips down, so you wouldn’t accidentally buck yourself off the kitchen counter.

The rhythmic sucking and licking on your clit was bringing you closer to an orgasm. Your head was thrown back, leaning against the kitchen cabinet, one hand buried in Ellie’s hair, the other gripping the edge of the counter. Your thighs were now placed on Ellie’s shoulders, her head secured in between your thighs. The apartment was quiet, except for the pornographic noises the two of you were making.

Ellie could sense that you were approaching climax, your body was tensing and you were grinding against her face, her suspicion was confirmed by you repeating “don’t stop” mixed with numerous curses. Ellie wouldn’t dare to stop, if she was honest, she probably needed this just as much as you did. Ellie did just as she was told to do, she continued. She continued to lap at your core, continued to moan into it, and continued to look up at you as you were approaching your climax.

It wasn’t long until your last throaty chant of Ellie’s name was vibrating off the kitchen walls, your body tense and sweaty. Ellie’s head was still locked in place between your thighs, the last grinds of your hips hitting her tongue. Then your body relaxed and slumped backwards, Ellie’s grip on your hips releasing as she straightened herself. Her disheveled face now leveled with yours. A smile spread on your face when you got a good look at the state Ellie was in, hair all ruffled, sticking to her forehead and neck, her mouth and chin glistening.

She leant in towards you, lips pressing against yours, this time much softer. Her tongue protruding into your mouth, moaning at the taste of yourself. Then her lips started moving again, down your chin, jawline, neck and towards your chest. You hummed at the sensations, your hands tangling themselves in Ellie’s hair yet again, pulling her upwards to face you. You saw the frustrated look on her face, she wanted a second round. You chuckled at her expression, playfully stating “I should wear these underwear more often, huh?” Ellie’s hands were yet again playing with the lace when thinking about her answer “I don’t think you can, they're ruined, but I can get you new ones,” she said smirking, looking up at you through her eyelashes. You kissed her, giving you time to think of a comeback. You parted your lips from hers, whispering against them, “Ellie,” “mhm?” she responded, you moved your lips closer to hers, “I shouldn't be wearing ruined underwear, right?” Gazing into her eyes, to see if she got the innuendo. She shook her head with a sly smile on her face, “you definitely shouldn’t,” she said, dragging your underwear down your legs letting them fall to the kitchen floor.

｡.｡:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)

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sleepyhoon · 16 days ago

Text

bang bang, kiss kiss. - p.js

pairing. boss!jay x employee!reader genre. age gap, porn w some plot, long drabble warnings. swearing, infidelity (jay cheating on his wife), homewrecker!yn (sorry), age gap (reader is 21 jay is 31), smut [ office sex, impregnation kink, creampie, oral (f. receiving), degradation, pussy slapping, manhandling, spit ]

a/n. attempt number 2 of trying to make yn a bitch ahaha anyways enjoy whats been plaguing my mind the past few nights. not proofread so pls disregard any typos haha

Park Jongseong's wife had a lot of nerve.

Calling the workplace and disrupting Mr. Park with nonsense you cant even begin to comprehend. He's far too good for her, adhering to her every beck and call, missing out on detrimental meetings and interviews with high-profile clients just to tend to his dumbass wife.

God, you hated her.

As Jongseong's personal secretary, it was your responsibility to keep his business in order, and most importantly, keep him stress-free; which is why you were more than happy to suggest he keep his cell phone off and locked away in your desk for the day, to ward off any unnecessary distractions.

"Always looking out for me, huh?" Jongseong asks, leaning against your desk with a smirk as he willingly hands you his locked iPhone.

"Always," you repeat, not breaking eye contact as you drop the phone into your drawer and slam it shut.

"And what if my wife needs to reach me?"

Your expression goes stoic, and a little bit annoyed. Jongseong knows you hated whenever he brought up his wife in any context, even a hypothetical one.

"She knows your e-mail address," you respond through gritted teeth, your eyes panning over to the empty excel sheet on your desktop.

Jongseong nods, amused and slightly aroused at the distaste you have for his wife. It's fucked up, he knows it is, but he just can't help it. The jealousy in your eyes at the mere mention of his wife was enough to drive him crazy. He loves that you hate her, and how envious you were of her; so desperate to be his wife instead.

"I suppose that's true; but if she calls, just forward her over to me, yeah?"

You don't respond, blatantly ignoring him as you open a new Google tab on your desktop and search 'avg cost of divorce south korea'.

Jongseong leans over, eyes lighting up in a mixture of surprise and amusement as he peeks at your screen, "You're funny, YN," he says, biting back a laugh.

"I'm not joking."

"I know," he stands, shoving his hands into his pockets, "that's the best part. I'll ping you if I need anything."

You nod, chin resting in the palm of your head as you continue to stare at your computer. The results of your Google search were anticlimactic, not one direct answer on the average cost of divorce. Just your luck.

Jongseong discretely glances around the office, making sure all other employees were occupied with their own tasks before leaning down and tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the sudden action causing you to stare up at him wide-eyed and raise a confused brow at him.

"And you let me know if you need anything, okay? Anything at all." He says, voice dropping to barely above a whisper.

Music to your ears, really, having Jongseong at your disposal while his own wife would have to fight tooth and nail to even speak to him today. It's a dream come true.

You clear your throat, adjusting your glasses as you straighten your posture, "Okay."

Jongseong smiles down at you one last time before turning on his heels and making his way down the hall and into his office.

A few minutes have gone by when you receive a message.

Jongseong Park [ 10:20 am ] : Around 1-5M KRW, higher if there are any court battles involved.

You [ 10:20 am ] : noted :)

Of course she'd show up to his workplace, so fucking relentless.

You can't really blame her, not being able to call or text Jongseong all day only to have his personal secretary dodge any calls made to the office surely would drive you crazy. Still, she has a lot of nerve.

"Sir, your wife is here," you grit into the phone, glaring daggers at said wife, Park Yunjin, as she scrolls on her phone.

"Shit, should've known," he sighs, "I'll be out in a few, just finishing something up."

You don't bother saying goodbye, slamming the phone down so hard that it startles Yunjin and a few of your coworkers. "He'll be out shortly."

Yunjin smiles, "Thank you, I got kinda worried when I wasn't able to get in touch with him, you know?"

Not interested in making small-talk with Yunjin, your responses to her are limited to hums and polite nods, fighting the urge to slam your head on your desk while ripping your hair out.

After what feels like an eternity, Jongseong finally emerges from his office and calls out for Yunjin, holding back a smile at the sight of the two of you being in the same vicinity.

Yunjin turns, cocking her head to the side with an annoyed look on her face, "Are you busy?"

Jongseong shakes his head, "Not at the moment, come in," he says, pushing his office door wide enough for her to enter.

Adjusting the purse on her arm, Yunjin makes her way down the hall and into the office, glancing at you over her shoulder one last time as she does so. She's suspicious of you, that much was obvious. You're much younger than her, obviously attractive, and the only other person who spends as much time with Jongseong as she does. You know him like the back of your hand, while she could barely get her husband to open up to her.

She has every right to be suspicious, though, considering you are fucking her husband behind her back.

Thirty minutes have passed when Yunjin finally exits his office, her expression unreadable as she shuts the door behind her, strutting out of the office without so much as a glance in your general direction.

Your eyes follow her every movement, staring so intently that you nearly miss the newest messages from Jongseong.

Jongseong Park [ 3:54 pm ] : Are you able to stay a little longer tonight? Need your help with some stuff.

Jongseong Park [ 3:55 pm ] : Dinner on me as an apology for the inconvenience

You [ 3:58 pm ] : of course, whatever u need :)

You don’t think much of it when you slip into Jongseong’s office later that evening.

He doesn’t bring up the incident with his wife and neither do you, opting to engage in light, easygoing topics as you help your boss complete his workload. It wasn’t much besides transferring over data into excel and responding to some emails, surely not enough work that required staying after hours, but Jongseong’s promise of a free dinner was enough to intrigue you.

And the fact that you’d be spending time alone with him, of course, free of your coworker’s wandering eyes and his wife’s disruptive behavior.

Your remaining coworkers had finally left for the evening, stopping by Jongseong’s office to briefly wish the two of you a good night and a safe trip home.

It’s around seven p.m. when you’re finally finishing up the excel sheet, your tired eyes carefully inspecting each and every corner of the screen, double-checking for any minor errors.

“Almost done?” Jongseong asks, swiveling in his office chair to face you.

You nod, offering him your laptop, “Think so, just need you to look it over.”

Taking the laptop from your hands, Jongseong looks over the screen for half a second before shutting it and handing it back to you. “Looks good to me. Get on the desk.”

You pause, mouth falling open as Jongseong begins to loosen to tie, “Wait, can I expl-”

He crosses the short distance between your seat and his, snatching the laptop from your grip as he forces you to stand, “No more excuses.”

Tossing the MacBook onto your now empty chair, Jongseong hoists you up on his desk, his rough, calloused hands bunching up your skirt until it’s settled around your waist. He doesn’t even give you time to prepare, sliding your thong down and off your legs with a quick yank of his hand.

He lowers himself before you, knees hitting the carpet as he becomes eye level with your cunt. Jongseong gathers a wad of saliva in his mouth, staring straight at you through hooded eyes as he spits directly on your pussy.

You shiver, swearing under your breath as he rubs the saliva onto your folds, “Think you’re so fucking funny, huh? Trying to upset my wife.”

Ugh, there he goes again talking about his stupid fucking wife.

“She’s a distraction, you got so much done today without her bitching in your ear.” You plead, gripping onto Jongseong’s desk with your eyes squeezed shut as he slips a thick finger into your hole.

It’s true, Jongseong had managed to get a lot more work done today than usual now that his wife wasn’t distracting him. Still, he can’t admit that, your ego was already big enough as it is. He’s sure if he inflated it any further your head would explode.

He teases a second finger at your entrance, amused at how easily it slides in from his wet you’ve gotten; it hadn’t even been five minutes and his hand is practically drenched because of you. “Doesn’t matter, you should’ve listened when I said to forward her calls. She already doesn’t like you and you just made it worse.”

Yunjin seeing you as a potential threat had you over the moon, a wicked grin on your face that only pissed Jongseong off further.

His fingers thrust in and out of you at a pace he’s never used before; he’s rough, flustered, and downright mad. His eyes narrow up at you, pulling his fingers out of you entirely to deliver a harsh smack on your clit.

Your body jolts, the sting of the slap sending an unfamiliar, yet arousing, shockwave throughout your body. You’re suddenly grateful that all the other employees have gone home for the evening, because the loud miss that escapes your lips surely would’ve had them running to HR.

Jongseong doesn’t even give you time to recover or process what’s happening, a smug look on his face now that he’s successfully wiped the cocky smirk off of yours. He leans forward, plump lips wrapping around your already swollen clit, swirling his tongue around it as he tugs it into his mouth.

He spits again, using his tongue to mix his saliva with your wetness to make a mess of your cunt. ”That’s funny to you? That you just made shit worse?”

You nod eagerly, another painful slap being delivered to your cunt as a result. You jolt again, tears welling up in your eyes as your back arches off his desk. He rotates between aggressively lapping at your clit, thrusting a third finger into your sopping hole, and delivering more slaps to your cunt, each smack harder than the last, leaving your entire body quivering.

By the seventh slap, the knot in your belly finally snaps, a loud slew of sweats falling from your lips as you come on the palm of Jongseong’s hand.

He doesn’t even give you the chance to catch your breath, standing as he shoves various paperwork and other miscellaneous items off his desk before forcing you on your back.

“I hope it was fucking worth it,” he grumbles, undoing his belt and zipper.

You nod, “It was.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He says, punctuating his sentence with another smack to your cunt. Your body is still spasming from your orgasm, the aching sensation between your thighs only adding to the overstimulation.

He pulls down his trousers and boxers in a swift movement, fully-hardened cock smacking straight against his abdomen. He pumps himself a few times before aligning his tip against your entrance, not giving you any time to prepare or adjust to his size before plummeting himself into you with a harsh thrust.

You cry out Jongseong’s name, back arching off his desk as you reach to hold onto his shoulders. His fingers move to your clit, rubbing harsh circles as he picks up his already fast and aggressive pace.

He’s relentless, fucking into you as if you were his own personal pocket pussy. There’s no doubt Yunjin would let him do this shit to her.

He takes your hand, pressing it down on your own abdomen as he pushes himself inside of you. Even from the outside you can feel his cock bulging into you. “You feel me right there?” He asks, breathless.

You nod wordlessly, a tear trickling from your eye as you do so. Jongseong leans down, unintentionally pressing himself further into you as he kisses the tear away, “You okay?”

You nod again, cupping Jongseong’s face with your hands before bringing him down to kiss you. It’s soft and sensual, making your heart rate increase as he tilts his head to allow himself further into your mouth.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling his body closer and furthering his cock deeper into your pussy. He swears under his breath, pulling away to press open-mouth, wet kisses on your neck and cheek. He stills for a moment, enjoying the feeling of your warmth wrapping around him as he’s peppering kisses across your collarbone.

He grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers together before thrusting into you again. He starts off slow this time, seemingly relishing in the feeling of your cum coating his cock.

He doesn’t let up after that, his thrusts becoming much harsher than what you expected, so rough that you’re nervous he may break the wooden desk supporting both of your weight.

“Fuck,” he groans, tip of his cock practically slamming into your g-spot, “gonna cum.”

“Please,” you beg, eyes fluttering shut as your second orgasm approaches.

Jongseong opens his eyes, taking note of your smudged makeup and how fucked-out you look. “Want me to cum inside you, huh? Fill you up until you’re nice and pregnant with my baby?”

You nod embarrassingly because you do want that, to be able to carry Jongseong ‘s child, clinging to his side to let everyone know it was him that did this to you.

He shakes his head with a chuckle, “Fucking knew it.”

That exchange seems to be enough to drive him to his orgasm, because a few seconds later he’s spilling himself inside of you, thick, white ropes of cum coating your insides. It’s the most he’s ever came, chest heaving with exhaustion as he catches his breath.

You’re only a few seconds behind him, ironically calling out for God as your own orgasm hits you.

His office goes quiet, the only sounds being your staggered breath along with his overhead ceiling fan.

Jongseong pulls himself out of you, immediately shoving two fingers inside your hole to keep his cum from drilling out of your pussy. Your body jolts again as you let out a pathetic, “Jongseong, please.”

“Not letting it go to waste.” He says simply, using his thumb to rub small circles on your clit. “Besides, you said you wanted me to fill you up right?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Good,” he groans, “now lie on your stomach.”

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen imagine #enhypen x reader #park jongseong #park jongseong imagines #park jongseong smut #jay park #jay park imagine #jay park smut #kpop imagine #kpop smut #park jongseong x reader

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cryptfile · 2 months ago

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Ꮺ˖˚₊ leeches, [ logan howlett x vampire!reader au ]

summary — logan howlett lacks of patience (and he can also be a nice little blood-bag while losing his temper). 8k+

warnings — 18+ mdni, fem!reader implied, blood kink (keep in mind you’re a vampire! not twilight but more of a true blood kind?) downright filth im sorry, dead dove do not eat, smoker!reader, endless tension, manhandling, praise kink, kind of porn without plot (LIES CAUSE IT HAS ONE THO??) my boy's into paaaaaain can't help it it's canon, age-gap at first (reader is her 20's but again, vampire), public sex (it just happened), daily reminder to wrap it before you tap it, p in v, choking, filthy mouth, pet names.

side notes — thought this could take place after days of the future past? au cause why nottttt ,,currently on ovulation season so bare with me,,, been a little mia cause i’m surviving aka going through the worst semester of my life at uni? internships are breaking my ass currently so well, here i am just existing, also, english’s not my first language and everyday i’m grateful for it, so any mistakes i’m not sorry in advance lol i’m also too lazy to correct once published,, feel free to send more logan requests since i've basically been a slut for him for a while now (i'm rotting in hell).

He could swear the mansion got ten degrees hotter when you came in.

It’s inevitable. It’s this thing you carry, the way you move — Graceful, elegant, almost compelling as the air fills the room. It’s not public knowledge that you’re not a mutant itself, yet you’re presented like one, like you have healing factors and age painfully slow, but human after all, a subtle lie, one that can harm no one.

It’s safe to say you catch his attention in the most annoying way: How couldn’t you? All you do is this weird seduction he’s appealed to, whether you’re conscious or not it’s just captivating, an invisible force that even when you ignore it is there, there waiting for the perfect moment to flood every time you happen to be in the same room.

Captivating. That’s the word.

The room becomes smaller after, the air grows thicker, and it’s almost like a ticking bomb, the way you wouldn’t even look at his face while he’s noticeable pinning after Jean Grey, the mystery that surrounds you and he cannot seem to resolve no matter how much time he puts into it.

It’s like he's the plague. You don’t really try to exchange more than just a few words, only when it's needed and you cannot avoid him any longer, and he didn’t say anything at first, keeping his distance too cause he don’t see how you’d become friends, cause after all, what he could have in common with a girl that doesn't surpass the twenty years?

But soon he's upset about it, even when he doesn't really say anything out loud, it's a spike he cannot reach under his skin. You seem to become friends with anyone but him, mutant kids in your history lessons, the rest of the team, even the damn mailman when he delivered a package — You'd say hello like it's a long time lover or so, greeting people like they mean the world to you.

He has students now that are asking for a transfer from his class to yours cause it seems you're fun to be around, more like he is, and he fucking hates it.

It's fair to say it's been getting into his mind lately. That thing you do with your hair, twisting it in your index finger on a lock as you speak, the subtle red glow in your eyes he always catches by mistake, not enough fast to stop looking at you, pretending he didn't even see in your direction at first.

Tension. Logan just happens to hate tension.

In fact. He's almost sure your problem is personal, that you might hate him enough to act like he didn't exist at all, enough to avoid him like he was not there.

That's why it's just so weird.

When he finds himself walking down the hallway to the kitchen and he smells this cherry-scented aroma that settles under his nostrils, he changes the direction he's walking to, to instead, follow the path to the person that was silently smoking outside. Hiding. Maybe, a student he'll have to scold like the old man he was turning into.

No smoking in the mansion!

However, as the night is just settling, he doesn't recognize a little mutant, but instead happens to recognize you in the middle of the gardens of the mansion, close to the maze; escaping the comfort of the inside to enjoy a self-rolled cherry tobacco he has smelled before in the air. He's a victim mostly, cause his legs move on it's own as his mouth go dry, approaching you in silence.

"What do you want?" you ask when he's halfway there. And your tone is just cold as ever, not an ounce of feeling as he contemplates your side profile, the way the tobacco sticks out of your parted lips, seated on a bench hidden between bushes and trees — "Is Scott bitching about the smell going into the mansion already?"

No. He's not. But he doesn't have enough reasons to explain exactly why he's outside if you asked, why, all of sudden, he followed the scent of cherry knowing it was you the only one who carried a colts package in the pocket of every single jacket you wore, constantly asking Storm if she could hold on to the bag of filters for you while you rolled in the worst moments.

It's distracting, to say the least.

"Yeah," he quickly says, lying cause in reality he hasn't seen the guy in the whole day, yet it sounds like something he would say. "Do you happen to have another one of those to share?"

You don't talk much, hand reaching his as you offered him from your tobacco without a single word, the same that was placed between your lips and now was on his in what seemed to be something more intimate than what he'd like to admit, the cherry taste filling his lungs as they weirdly enough, shared a cig.

"Aren't you too young to be smoking?"

You laugh, and the sound sends a shiver down his spine cause he has never heard a sound quite like it, nothing that resembles that throaty, raspy sound that came out of your lips in amusement thanks to his words. He, out of all people, has never seen you like that — "And how old you think I am?"

He seems to think about it for a second, carefully picking his next words. Logan knows that women and their age are a tricky thing, you cannot say a number that's too compromising, nor act stupid and say something that's clearly not correct — "Not a day over twenty-two."

The answer pleases you, and he just knows he's wrong, but you don't seem bothered by it, instead, you nod pretending he's right, like he just got the answer right away.

He can see why everyone's switching classes now. Cheeky bastards.

"Twenty-two is not young at all, but i'm twenty-seven though," you say, and he scoffs at the statement, seeking for any change in your heartbeat, any sign of a lie. The strange thing happens when he cannot pick any heart at all, any sign of pulse.

"You are pretty young still," he says, against his age, you’re just starting out living—. "You don't look like you are twenty-seven at all."

"Cause I age slower than the rest," it's a practiced lie. One you know from repeating the same explanation over and over again, the priced answer of why you haven't changed a single bit in the past few years and made you a mutant — "I never looked my age."

Such a fucking liar. He doesn't need any heartbeats to confirm it cause deep down you are a terrible actress, he can see it so clear, how you're calculating every answer, thinking about the correct thing to say, the normal thing to say.

"Is that your thing?" he asks, playing pretend almost as bad as you do. Tilting his head to the side as he questions you — "Age slowly?"

"I have healing powers," you explain as he tossed you the joint once again. "My saliva kinds of help healing wounds. It's pretty boring."

"Boring" Logan repeats. The word itself sounds so damn fun in your lips it's contradicting. "That doesn’t sound really boring."

There's a moment of silence after that. Where you smoke in silence taking in the taste of the cherry, and he is having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that your lips also touched the side of the cigar he was smoking before, the plain lies you've been repeating over and over the last ten minutes.

It's almost infuriating. Makes his blood boil without question, he surely endures your treatment of silence, but being lied to? That's a whole different level.

“How old are you, kid?”

Your brows furrow in response, a clueless face. You are pulling out this show once again Logan don’t buy for a damn second. Something about the scrunch in your nose, the way you dismissed your own powers as if they weren’t enough. He knows it’s all a lie. He knows it even when he doesn’t really know you at all, when it’s the first time you’re truly speaking to him after your arrival to the mansion almost a year ago.

“How old you really are?”

You laugh at the question once again, and he just knows it, knows it when he sees you barely illuminated by the dim light of the moon, the act you always keep up, a web of tangled lies you have to be into— “Told you i'm twenty-seven already, didn't you hear?”

“Is it now?” he asks, amused by the sass, exhaling the smoke of the low-quality tobacco he doesn't understand why you're so invested in when passed it to him—. “Cause you don’t seem very convinced, it really sounds like bullshit to me.”

You're almost offended. By the look you give it's like the worst mistake he could ever make, yet you remain silent, not giving the satisfaction of an honest answer yet. Testing his patience like he did have one to begin with.

"Is that why I can’t hear your heartbeats, darlin'? Cause you age so slowly?”

The nickname scratches a part of your brain, and you hate him for it. The word rolls out of his tongue with an accent, smoking your cherry tobacco cause you happen to be nice.

“You can’t?” you’re good at faking it suddenly, at least, that's what he thinks when your brows furrow in alleged curiosity, stiffening your back, uncomfortable. “How weird.”

“Damn right it is” that's when you realize he knows you are lying. Even when you don’t talk much, even when you act all stiff and bothered when he’s close, he knows that you are fully invested in lying. In whatever twisted little lie you've planned, like it was your real life and not something you made up. “Are you going to tell me truth, then or do I have to find out? Does the professor know that you're lying?”

The smoke lingers in the air.

“How old are you?” he asks once again, demanding an honest answer this time — "Thirty? Thirty-five?"

You find his questions annoying, mostly cause he won't stop until he gets an answer, one that pleases him enough to leave you alone, the other part cause you happen to like the playful banter you two keep going, dangerously much. You don't hate attention it's clear, what you do hate it's the way he seemed to see pass the lie, to demand more even when he has no right to.

He enjoys being the one who's right though, Logan cannot help it. He's pleased to catch that look on your face who says everything but nothing at once, to have you where he wanted, almost at the edge of admitting a truth.

Is it payback because you've been stealing all of the little mutants from his class? He's jealous cause kids like being around you? It does not make much sense, but he is fully invested. Questioning all.

Even when you're outside, it seems like the air grows thicker. And Logan finds himself seeking for your breathing, cause he don't know nothing, nothing about you more than the fact you don't seem to have a heartbeat, or pulse and now, breathing.

“If you really are that eager to know, i'm a hundred and twenty-seven” the words float in the air for a while, and he's sure you're just messing with him, cause there's no way a pretty little face like yours had endured a century. “I've been alive for quite a while.”

He doesn't fully believe it first. Of course he doesn't. Logan's sure you're messing with him also, distracting him about your real age.

“And I supposed this do come from you slow aging powers” He tries to give you a point there, but it's difficult to be serious when you're just playing with him—. "How so?"

To be honest, you do have a little temper yourself, you've learned to stand up for yourself most of the time, so when you happen to notice he's teasing you, that he doesn't really believe you, you adopt this attitude of defense he notices as you shift over the wood you're seated in.

"No, it doesn't" you steal the joint from his hands to have a smoke yourself. "You really aren't as smart as I thought you were, huh?"

Do you happen to have a dead wish? His muscles tense beneath his shirt, and in contrast of his problem, you can hear it all. All the sounds his body makes when he's all bothered just by the beat of his heart, that annoying sound his bones make each time he moves.

"What are you?"

"That's it," the praising goes directly into his chest, the tone you use to tell him he's going in the right direction it feels just so right he forgets why he got mad in the first place—. "That's what you should be asking right there."

It's almost a shame having to admit he would also switch classes. That he would also go through all the paperwork himself without a second thought and that right there, is pathetic, but you're smiling at him as if you're encouraging the man to try harder, to find the answer himself, and fuck — He's old, too old, he's tired, he's in a bad mood as fucking usual, and he happens to dig a drink in the quiet of his own room, but he's pulled by something as equal as devastating as the gravity force, shoot towards you in pure need to have some answers even if he has to make you spit them.

"I find it strange, cause when you don't have a heartbeat, you aren't usually alive" Deep down he's fascinated, hazel eyes glues on your face trying to understand. He feels like he has it in the tip of his tongue waiting to leave his mouth as a catastrophic answer, but he doesn't find the right words.

"That's cause i'm not," you state it like it's something obvious. And just as he knows you're lying, this time, he knows you're telling the truth, blowing the smoke in his direction just to bother him — "Why do you think i'm teaching history after all huh?"

He hasn't seen it all, it seems.

Yeah.

He's losing it after that night.

It’s known that Logan has sleeping problems, but that night specifically he thinks about something else rather than what usually torments him, a truth he also has to keep a secret now that he's learned more about it.

See, Logan doesn't expect you to be really dead. Much less to hear what you are and have been hiding this whole time from the rest of the people in the mansion — He also learns that you feed on blood, that vampires are a common thing in the world and that he shouldn't, at least, be that surprised when he's a mutant in a world full of humans himself.

You are a folklore myth on small villages, stories in Rumania and horror character in films, so you don't blame him when as you spoke, he finally understands why you're so damn attractive, so damn seductive as you explained more about your way of living, some memories you've been keeping to yourself since being a vampire was so damn solitary, memories he listens to cause he knows what it's like, to be misunderstood, to be eternal, to be alone as well.

It makes the two of you grow closer by the next weeks. You now talked during broad daylight about random shit at first, about the war sometimes, about your condition as he refers to when people is around, eaves-dropping on what you two are talking so invested in. Friends.

Simple as that.

And it's safe to admit also that in the course of the next days, Logan Howlett is a fucking mess, and he knows it, but he won't do anything about it.

He won't flirt cause he knows you're a hell of a woman, in every good sense of the word, that he's way too damaged for a vampire even, for all kinds of people out there, and as much as he'd like to say anything, he values your attention, how you switched the attitude of acting like he didn't exist to be a friend, one that you came to share secrets with a cherry aroma glued in their skin.

It gets him insane, to the point he's no longer spending much time with Jean and people start to pick up on it as if he didn't have enough headaches already. He doesn't care. Shit you are not bothered by what people say, and to be honest, he cannot seem to care either.

At first, he's reluctant of keep on talking to you as normal as it is. He's not really invested in religious themes, but he sure admits you're a sin by all meanings, a religious experience of some kind if anyone asked him — He agrees with what he has heard also in the hallways. Innocent conversations of teens and their platonic crush on their teachers. You are pretty hot.

He's so interested in knowing more about you, about the nights you spend in Rumania, when you leave to Canada, the different lives you've lived across the years. He finds himself looking forward to share his stories too, weird enough, cause he's over two centuries himself and he just craves to talk about it with someone who also gets him in a deeper level, that weariness that fills your body when you age so long.

You got the best of immortality, and instead of feeling envious, Logan finds himself attracted to you so much like he's never been in his whole existence. Not at the point it happened with you at least.

By the end of the first month he knows your little treats. You use a lot of sunscreen, and avoid activities outside as much as you possibly can with those classic, tiny black sunglasses that hided you from the rays of the sun, always in the shadow so unapproachable; how you'd usually dismiss food offerings from anyone who's kind enough to even offer you something, and when you haven't fed well during the course of the week, you'd become the most maddening woman he'd ever met.

Maddening.

"What wrong with you, Leech?" Leech. You've been in such a bad mood lately that when he's seating next to you in another random smoking session outside, your fingers twitch, clearly pissed at the nickname after saying multiple times you don't like it.

"I'm not in the mood for plays now."

He can tell from before. When you talked to him that very morning and stared at the collar of his flannel for what it seemed a good, nice minute, he realizes the same moment that you were staring at that pulse point in his neck, where the flesh blood was pumping in his blood flow: You're hungry, as any living creature would be and at your own manner, in constant control as you fight the sense of hunger.

So instead, the mutant ask, like he always does when he’s curious about something that involves you:

"When did you last feed?"

"A couple of weeks ago."

That would explain it. You don't talk much about your meal plan, he knows the professor is in charge of all of that. You've told him about blood bags and hospitals, but he's not really aware of how constant you need to eat, how the blood supplies most of your energy, makes you stronger, gives you vitality, so Logan at first, don't really know what its like to not drink any blood in the course of two weeks.

"What happened with the blood bags from the Hospital?"

The mention of blood out loud seems to triggers you. A groan escaping your lips as you can swear you feel the taste in your mouth — "Don't know. Haven't seen a single one this week, Charles said something about next week, problems in the bank I guess."

You're clearly worked up. It's a new look he hasn't registered before, your hair is tangled in a less-composed look, and there's a slight shake in your hands as if you're going through withdrawal, deprived for what you needed the most.

"And animals?" he questions, trying to find a solution. “Can’t you eat a cat or something?”

"Like shit i'm going to feed from a fucking animal," you're almost immediately grossed out, scrunching your nose at the idea. "I can barely handle being so close to a damn human but animals? I'd rather fucking die this time for real, no waking up."

"That bad huh?" the mutant asks, taking a sip from the beer he sneaked outside, chucking lightly afterwards. "So you're a leech with elegant taste, huh? Of course you are."

"Clean blood is rare," you explain, rolling your eyes. It's inevitable. He knows you hate the nickname so much that he insists to keep on calling you that way just to get a reaction—. "Humans nowadays taste like dirt. They consume drugs among other substances, pills, food supplements, even damn vitamins, don’t get me started about blood diseases cause it gets me in a bad temper. Every single thing affects on your taste, even what you eat. It's all registered there. Clean, good blood is rare to find. Call me elegant, call me picky. It's a damn fact."

"And what about mutant blood?" he questions. And it seems like a mere phrase at first, one with no subtle tones, he’s usually curious about your nature so you don’t pay much attention as he spoke—. “You’re picky about mutants too?”

“No, i’ve never had a mutant before.” The truth is, you hate feeding from people, the act being something so intimate, so damn personal, you refrain yourself. Killing humans, picking a next victim to fed on, is considered now a treat you don't appreciate from your kind, making you steal from hospitals and any kind of blood bank before Charles offered you help. You haven't fed from a mutant, cause you avoided everyone equally, but you don't want to be rude about it. “You all smell different, but i’d be lying. Maybe yes, i’d be picky about it too, feeding is something intimate.”

It's an undeniable admission, and now that he's trying to be in your position, he would also be picky about someone's blood. Logan remains stoic cause he’s suddenly filled by the thought of something else, a glimpse of his own weird creativity he forces himself to push aside, to really suppress now that it's not the time or the moment.

“How do I smell?” It's too late to stop the words from coming out of his mouth when he asks her. And at first, is out of pure curiosity. He has never encountered a vampire in his life until you, let alone had someone talking about the subtle tastes of the blood being undead, so he doesn't want to let the opportunity slip — Of course he wants to know if an over two hundred mutant like himself would be as remotely good as a fresh, clean bag from the hospital.

"You stink like wet dog," he surely deserves it after all the times he’s been calling you a leech — "Like those cigars you tend to smoke, alcohol, and musk. It's similar as wood. That smell you got when you're in a forest and it's not raining but straight pouring."

"Is this a way of telling me i'd taste bad, peach?"

You make a mental note to let him know after you like peach way more than leech.

"If i'd found a human smelling like that, you won't be hearing from me anytime soon" you're just messing with him. A playful banter you enjoy more than ever, the distraction you needed to think in something else rather than the blood bags you craved so deeply — "Hell, i've would just walked the other way."

"So i'm taking you won't be feeding from me anytime soon."

It all takes a dark turn there. You're very aware of the tension the last month now that you talk to him in daily basis, but it’s just mere tension, nothing that ever goes beyond the limit. Logan has never said something to flirt with you despite the million chances he got, and he always remained like a friend, one that you enjoy spending time with now. Cannot be blamed when you're taken aback.

“Cat got your tongue, kiddo?” Man. You're about to whine about the name before you remember he is indeed, older than you are. Vampire or mutant.

"You want me to feed from you?"

He seems so willing when you ask. Even when you teased about his smell calling him a wet dog. He just seems so eager to let you just do it, try a mutant for the first time.

"Yeah," he dismisses it like it's not something so deep — "I doubt Charles is going to let you take a bite since you could clearly kill him, and I'm not sure the others would be pleased with the idea of you sinking your teeth in them, so yes. Me, leech."

Logan Howlett doesn't really smell bad. And you don't know why cause he has all the ingredients to fucking stink, yet, you'd call him interesting. That's what you thought when you find his pulse point again, the vein in his neck you looked earlier in the morning, thinking just as the same you were thinking now.

Of course you would feed from him. Is it a good thing to do? No, in any other circumstances you'd decline. He's your friend.

Now? You’re having a hard time.

"So I'm guessing that you're pleased with the idea, then," Real talk?, you just want to hear him say it. He doesn't talk much usually, but now that he's very vocal about what's on his mind, you have to take advantage of it—. "I'm not sure either. But I do think Storm may be interested too."

He seems content with the response, taking a long sip from his beer before adding — "Please, go and ask her so you're less annoying."

You're almost completely sure he doesn't find you annoying. You also don't care about Storm. And maybe he knows you're not going anywhere, that you're not moving.

"You really want me to bite you?"

"I dunno now, princess" he looks at you pleased now cause he got you where he wanted to, cause he managed to awake all the interest now that you're looking at him "Are you going to pull a Dracula on me?"

"No, i'm not going to suck you dry if that's what you're asking."

Logan chuckles. He's a damn masochist. It's been like that as long as he can remember. It may have to be with his healing powers cause he likes it more than usual, but the idea gets to his head soon enough, all falling so damn fast: Your breathing would be against his neck and he'd take the bite like a damn champ.

"Yeah I can handle you," he says, aroused. "You're not gonna hurt me if you take some blood. I'll be fine and you won't be a pain in the ass."

He acts so gruff about it but you hear the sound of his heartbeat already high enough to wake the entire mansion, his labored breathing since he suggested the idea himself. He digs it, strange enough. Thrives on the idea.

He's a grown man already, and he can take a little leech like yourself.

It's clear you're hungry, cause it doesn't take much for you to accept, nodding like you're defeated, like you just lost the war entirely, cause there's no many options here to take and even if it were, you are now interested in have him more than any other blood bag. In fact. To hell with the hospital.

"Okay."

It's a simple answer, and it sure works with him as you get close to him, the bench you always used to sit now seeming so small as you look around confirming you guys really are alone—. "You won't tell anyone?"

It's something stupid to ask, cause after all that time he has never said anything, keeping your secrets as if they were his own, saving you from weird questions people get sometimes as they didn't know much about you. He's clearly not going to say nothing at all.

"Are you going to stop whining for a second and just eat darlin'? Cause I might change my mind here."

He's feeling overload soon after.

You don’t need a formal invitation to lean closer to his neck.

There's no way to describe it also cause he has never seen something like that, never felt a similar sensation more than when he's fucking, the cold touch of your fingers in his chest, taunting the vein in his neck without a previous warning before leaning in even closer than before—. "Stay still" you demand, face close against his bare skin, only one goal in mind. "Don't move for a minute. Just-"

You cannot finish the sentence, and Logan can experience the sporadic pain of the bite first hand when your teeth finally sink in his neck, piercing the flesh so easily as you let the blood fill your mouth. He grunts at the sharp pain, his face contracting momentarily before it's replaced by a nice wave of pleasure, one that hits him right in the guts as he grabs you by the nape of your neck, pushing you against him, almost demanding you to be closer, to keep on taking what you want, what you've been craving for two weeks.

When did he turned into this perverted sick? Getting off by something so primal as the fact you're feasting on him.

The feeling of your lips and the clear suck you gave when feeding are sending him into a spiral, and to be honest, he didn't expect to be so devastated by you, by the way your fingers stay against his chest to prevent him from moving, pinning the mutant between the wood bench and yourself so he won’t move, won’t do anything unless you want him to,pressing on the wound to draw more blood out.

"You heal so damn fast," you complain, looking at the traces of your bite with an unpleased face as they disappeared on his skin as fast as you created them.

"Then bite me again. I don't care."

You chuckle before leaning once again, and you can feel how the air grows hotter than how it was usually, the shift on his breathing as you bite him again, pressing on the wounds once again just to suck.

And you’re hungry, it’s the whole deal. His taste differs from what you believe at first, a huge change from what humans taste like, from what you’re used to deal with in hospitals. There’s a subtle taste of alcohol yes, but it mixes good with the sweet taste of honey, the weird taste you cannot put into words. It must be a mutant thing for sure cause it’s thicker than usual, a mix of flavors that explode in your tongue.

The headache you suffered from the whole week seems to dissapear as you drink in, feeding the monster you responded to in your stomach, demanding you to make him bleed more, to satisfy yourself until you can’t have any more.

Logan, on the other hand, is really fighting against his very own war.

You’re already close enough, but he just wants you damn closer, as much as he possibly can. It’s clear that well, it hurts slightly, but he has endured much worse, means nothing when it’s the pleasure that comes with it who strikes on his body, the light sucking, the idea you’re full of his blood, that you are not on trouble as you were before thanks to him. All because of him.

He's not used to acts on his impulses, but he does it anyway.

"C'mere" he says in a strangled voice, Logan's having no trouble moving you around, grabbing you by the hips to make you straddle him, keeping you glued to his neck as he doesn't want to disturb you—. "You really are a pretty leech, huh?”

You hum against his skin, pleased at the contact, and when he realizes you’re not complaining about his actions, he let his fingers grip your tights, keeping you against him.

You can hear him making this sound, quite like a moan but not exactly when you’re licking the holes you left in his skin, he does heal fast and don’t need any of your help when you’re done, but you coat his skin with your saliva anyway just to speed up the process, cause you want to do it, looking down to him after to check if he’s pale or nearly dead. You never really know.

And Logan himself is just fine cause his fingers gather the blood under your lip when he takes the sight of you sitting in his lap as the pearly white rays of moonlight makes your skin shine, and he pushes them inside your mouth so you don't waste any drop of what it can be considered food.

"So what's the final verdict?" he asks as his hands are now grabbing your tights, there's something so intimate about the moment, so personal, hot as he presses his fingers against the flesh of your muscles, he understand what you said before—. "Do I taste like utter shit?"

"Well, i’d need another taste to have my final decision" he laughs, and he don't really laugh often so the unexpected sound sends a shiver down your spine now that you’ve heard the sound quite a while now—. "Not much, just a little."

“Have you fill then, peach” He encourages you. “I want you full so you don’t whine the rest of the week.”

You don’t have any heartbeat, but if you did, it would be ragging in your ears at his words. At the warmth he’s spreading like a disease on her body that, despite being dead and cold, you can feel more than ever.

“I like peach,” you admit, this time pressing a soft kiss before directly hurt him—. “Leech is annoying.”

He’s going to say something, tease you about it maybe but he’s interrupted by the nice feeling of what he considers are your fangs tearing his skin apart, familiarity hitting him all sudden as he moans, a rough sound that comes from the deep of his throat, hands coming down to squeeze your ass, making you gasp against his neck when you experience the aching need physically forming in his pants.

“Still,” you say, concentrated on not allowing the wounds to close. But at the lack of complaints on what he's doing, Logan’s hands kept wandering around, making you move against his now clearly stiffed cock—. “Fuck’s sake I said still.”

“Stop being a damn brat. You can eat while I move you,” he grunts annoyed, shoving you against him, the friction of his jeans against the thin fabric of your shorts is enough to keep you quiet: Feeding from a stranger and feeding from a person you’re attracted to are two different things, especially in the position you find yourself in. “You don’t have to do anything. Quit whining about it.”

In response, your fingers press against the wound, not caring if it hurts or if it bothers him, but just enough to get him to bleed more and prevent the cut from closing, lapping at the blood that gathered over his collarbone, staining his white tank before you could even avoid it.

Your fingers grab the fabric just to pull it slightly down so it won't bother you, and the deep sound his chest make when he mocks about your desperation is stuck on your brain for the next couple of minutes, indulging in his taste, shutting up the rest of the world.

A moan comes out of your lips, muffling it against his skin. You're too zoomed out to hear it, but he's on a hell of a ride too, moaning as he demands more. It's been a while since the last time you did something like that, combine the pleasure of something as primal as eating with a mundane activity like sex, so you kind of forgot how good it felt, blaming yourself from depriving from something so needed.

"Do you always get this turned on when someone bites you?"

"No" Logan answers as you finish. He's rock hard beneath you, and he lets you know it when he's controlling the movement of your hips, working you against him at a slow pace—. "See, the woman i'm trying to seduce don't usually bite me, nor make me their main dinner plate."

You whine at the friction.

He looks down to the cause of all his damn problems just to notice his pants being damped with nothing but a physical form of need, soothing the uncomfortable fabric of his blue jeans — "So wet for me already, you’re making a damn mess, do you always get this turned on when feeding?"

Cheeky bastard.

He's using your own words against you, and you cannot be less bothered as you laugh softly, licking your lips only cause you know there's dried blood in them, drowned in his smell, the honey taste that lingered in your mouth.

“No, I don’t.”

At the sight, Logan's hand grabs your jaw in a rough movement, making you look at him before making you kiss him, deepening the contact as fast as you give him the chance. His tongue is soon invading your bucal cavity as he takes control of it, slow, intense and needy, as if he was holding on so much time before giving in to his own desires.

It is something like that.

You don't need to breathe in daily basis, but there's a burning sensation in your chest of wanting, of infinite lust you've been also experiencing by yourself.

The old mutant can taste his own blood in your mouth, a metallic taste as he keeps on kissing you until your lips are pink and puffed. He has thought so much about it that now that he has the opportunity, he devours as if he's a starved man having his first meal in what seems are ages.

"You didn't tell me if I tasted bad."

You think about it for a second.

"I'm afraid you're a rare breed cause it doesn't make any sense" You don't need any help now moving, cause you're rolling your hips on top of him at your own pace, allowing him to use his hands for something else—. “You have all the ingredients to taste like shit, but it's nothing but the contrary, even better than the fucking blood bags.”

“Sounds like your going to make me your meal plan, darlin. I’m here offering you a hand and you just take everything,” — “Such a greedy little vampire.”

He doesn't seem to care though, same as before he's nothing but willing to let you take everything as much as he tries to bark about it. He's more worried about his hands now that they're sliding down your oversized shirt, tracing patterns over your stomach, his touch so hot against your usually cold temperature.

"Logan," you whine,— "Someone can see us out here."

"Now you care about that?" his hazel eyes are a shade darker when he speaks. "After you're nice and full of my blood?"

His hands are big enough to take your whole cunt, allowing his digits to roam over the fabric of your underwear, almost thanking you for using those loosened pajama shorts he has seen before that very night as he just takes the fabric and pull it to the side.

"Nobody is going to see us. It's late and everyone's sleeping, leech" he teases you, and you cannot bring yourself to care about the nickname at the feeling of his hand taunting you from over the fabric—. "If you can bite me here outside, you might as well take my cock here too."

You cannot battle against that. You're deep in whatever spell he puts you into, giving in to the attraction and the tension that now needs to be taken care of. Logan's fingers touch you in nothing but experience, cause he knows how to please after so much time alive, how much pressure he needs to apply to leave you plain dumb, pliable for him.

"D'you think I need to stretch you out before fucking you?" he asks against your neck after leaving a reasonable-sized hickey in the zone, he likes the idea of people finding out about what you've been doing with him the next morning. "Or you're a big girl and can take me all by yourself?"

He'd like to take your time with you. Thoroughly enjoy you as much as he wants to, let everyone know you're his now, that you're shuddering thanks to him only, but he's too needy for that, too deprived of you to take his time.

"I want you to use that pretty mouth of yours and talk to me," he demands, coming up to look at your face while torturing you, his index and middle finger rubbing your clit from over the underwear—. "I'm not properly touching you yet and you're losing it already, peach. C'mon, you can talk to me still."

"I can take you," you say in a strangled voice. "Please Logan, please."

It's the plea of your tone that gets him, the soft begging of an ache he can only soothe, your face while you ask for more, not aware of anything else but him.

"Please what?"

"Please just fuck me already," you ask in frustration—. "I just need you to fill me up for a damn while."

You are starting to love the sound of his laugh. The deep sound he makes when he’s really enjoying something, his voice in damn general.

"Be a good little vampire" He says in a gentle tone. Logan’s trying to be kind even when his touch is so rough. "Unbuckle my pants and take my cock out. My hands are busy now, and you can do it yourself."

He is busy indeed. Toying with your underwear being the only thing that’s keeping him from the direct contact, pushing the fabric against your hole as it works as a barrier, preventing his digits to fuck you as he’d like to. He’s busy keeping you in place, preventing you from downright melt as your hands came up to unbuckle his belt first, the sound of the metal as it moves filling the air for a couple of seconds before you put all your attention in the button of his jeans, the zipper coming down with the force you’re using.

“Yeah baby,” he praises—. “You’re doing so good, keep going.”

When you pull the fabric of his briefs down, he’s already leaking for you, pink head, slightly curved to the side, moaning, erratically how much he needs your hands on him, how you're wet and ready for his cock. You close your fist around him, stroking slowly as your hips lift up enough to position yourself on top of him.

He’s big. Damn fucking right he is, you’d expected it from before cause sometimes you swear you can see his full length in his jeans, but taking him in your hand is a struggle but itself.

“Are you going to take me yourself or do you need my help? I know you can.”

Despite his words, he does help. Grabbing the black fabric of your underwear to finally make it to the side, the tip of his dick pushing against your clit before he's the one to place it in your leaky hole, forcing himself slowly, giving you time to take him in, inch by inch.

“Good girl," he says, head rolling backwards for a brief moment as he experiences the warm sensation of your walls surrounding him, clenching against his cock as he keeps one hand on your hip, helping you as you lower yourself over him. "Let me look at you.”

His fingers grab your jaw, squeezing you as he makes you look back at him, pushing you once again as you holded a loud moan. He's stretching you at his need.

"One more time," he begs. "One more time and you got it, peach. You're almost there."

Jesus fuck. You can feel yourself getting dizzy. You've drank a lot of blood and you're now overwhelmed by this intense pleasure that formed in your lower stomach, gathering there and waiting for the perfect moment to explode—. "Fuck I-"

Logan's pampering you with kisses as a mere distraction, his lips travelling through your neck to your collarbone before you're finally seated on top of him, a muffled moan you need to shut filling the calm of the night.

"Fuck you're tight," he exhales, and he's lost in the sensation, the way your velvety walls welcome him inside. He stays still for a moment, giving you time to adjust, to make you the one who starts moving on top of him.

You can see his veins popping up. All over his chest and coming down to his shoulders and his arms, and god gracious — He smells so fucking good you’re tempted to ask if you can have a bite again.

The moment feels longer than usual, the seconds pass slowly as you stay there. Logan’s hands are just touching your skin from under your oversized t-shirt, taking in the low moans you gave him, the almost perceptible whispers as you get used to him, to his size.

He likes the intimacy of it, the bliss. Man you look so pretty in his lap when the light of the moon is stripping you all to his eyes, even if you’re fully dressed an he’s seated in a damn bench, he cannot enjoy it more, pulling you in for a needy kiss, one that is rougher than the first one and leads you to move inevitably.

His cock pushes past that nice spot inside, and the friction is enough to make you move again, rocking your hips at a slow pace for a few seconds. The sound of your moans is silenced by his demanding kisses, and now that he knows you can handle him, his grip on your hips turn more firm now, squeezing the skin there so he can control your speed, the rythm of your movements now faster than before.

“Shh, don’t whine” what he lacks of vocal usually, he pours it all in just fucking, talking you through it when he feels you’re being too loud—. “Do you want to wake the others? We can’t have them seeing you like this, all fed up and cock-drunk.”

“Let me bite you again,” you ask soon enough. And it takes a lot to do it, cause you’re doing it out of pure greed, cause you can’t have enough.

“Take whatever you want, leech, just don’t make me faint” he jokes, his panted breathing betraying him as he moans, incredibly interested in the idea—. “Want to be conscious when you cum all over my dick.”

Logan’s sure your eyes glisten in a red color as you lean over his neck. And this time is less affectionate, much less gentle as you finally bite him again, teeth piercing the flesh so easily his hips jolts against you in response of the sharp pain your fangs create, the warm sensation of his blood in contrast of your cold touch, tongue-licking all you get from him.

And fuck it feels good.

He shrudders beneath you, shaking his head just slightly at reflex of pain before continue working his way with you, placing his hand between your tights as he lets his fingers rub on your sensitive clit, just enough to make you bite on his neck harder, the lewd sounds of your cunt taking him between holded moans as you suck on his neck.

“That’s it taking me so good,” He praises — “You like that, princess? Like how you’re full of me?”

You hum against his skin. The blood coates your chin as it goes down through his chest, staining his white tank for a couple of seconds before the holes your teeth made finally closes on their own.

It’s pure ecstasy. He can feel it when you clenching around his cock, cheeks red from his blood going now through your system, his vitality, his energy.

You can feel him fucking everywhere. So when you kiss him it’s all teeth, bite and his blood.

The pleasure’s taking control of you now, and Logan’s dizzy from the blood loss, his body covered now in sweat as his words slur together, not threading any coherent thought.

“That’s it,” he says, making you bounce of his cock. “Gonna’ have you in my room then, all spread out f’me.”

His hand wrap around your neck tightly, keeping the direct contact as he chokes you. Shit. You don’t need to say a word. Logan already got you.

“James-” he’s too deep to question why you’re using that name with him. How you facade is crushing down now as you let go.

When your body trembles on top of him he’s already cumming too, the squeeze on his cock sufficent to fuck him up personally, his bruising grip on your hips shoving you as deep as he possibly can as his release hits him like a brick falling from the damn sky.

He lets you work for it, ride each second of your high, milk him dry as a white circle of his own cum mixed with your juices coated the base of his cock, his underwear now slick with your orgasm.

He’s struggling to breathe, to properly say something as you’re finally coming down from your peak, looking at him through half lidded eyes.

“Did you called me James?” he questions, and you’re a damn bad liar, cause he knows imediately you’re hidding something cause of the look on your face—. “Do we know each other? From before.”

You don’t know how to respond at first, at least, cause you cannot lie in a position like that now.

“Well uh. It’s quite a long story here.”

Before you can continue he gets up, making you wrap your legs around his hips before stsrting to walk to the mansion.

“Logan-” you say in a strangled moan yourself, still sensitive as he’s balls-deep inside you.

“It will be less than two minutes, leech” he responds gruffily,— “Need to get you into my room so I can enjoy you the rest of the night, and you can tell me all of it.”

He don’t care if he’s bloody or a damn mess as he squeezes your ass climbing up the stairs, much less if anyone see the two of you in that state.

“I want to hear all the details, Cause I have a weird feeling that this has happened before.”

You cannot find a reasonable excuse to say no as the man’s already reaching the second floor.

Logan’s fucked after that night. When he learned about all that you were before, weirdly connected to you through the decades.

It must be the bite isn’t? Shit. He’s more in sync than ever now that you’ve been feeding from him a lot the last few weeks.

Ah. You fucking leech.

my masterlist

#wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan howlet smut #logan x reader #logan xmen #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett #jimmy howlett #xmen smut #cryptfile // x-men #minors dni #minors do not interact #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett x vampire!reader #deadpool 3 #xmen days of future past #deadpool and wolverine

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rinniessance · 1 year ago

Text

FAITH ༊*·˚ - suguru geto x fem!reader

suguru geto has been slipping further into darkness every day since amanai riko's death. now with yu haibara's dead body in front of you, you think suguru might sink even deeper. so you offer him a respite between your legs.

꒰ warnings: nsfw - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ hurt/comfort, porn with plot. established relationship, sex as unhealthy coping mechanism, co-dependency, oral sex (f! receiving), unprotected sex. canon compliant but you forgive geto all his crimes ♡ // word count: 6k ꒱ ꒰ notes: this is a repost from my old blog .ᐟ.ᐟ this was originally written for a collab and i love this piece so much, i want it on my new blog꒱

for a second, the world has finally gone silent. suguru doesn’t remember when was the last time it was this quiet inside his head. ever since that day, he’s been haunted by the creeping thoughts of the next time he’s going to fail; plagued by the thoughts of which friend he will have to bury next just because they were lucky (or unlucky) to be born with the gift to be special, to be stronger, to protect. but suguru should’ve known better than to trust his own mind not to play the cruel trick.

clap… clap.. clap. clap.clap.clap

raven-haired sorcerer keeps staring at the wall, paralyzed by the memories, the echoes that still breath down his spine and make the goosebumps dance across his skin. the clapping always follows the silence. same way a kid would pick on a just healed wound, making it bleed with the renewed vigor, suguru’s mind keeps tearing his never-healing soul apart and making it bleed all over again.

the water has gone cold, but geto doesn’t notice. in the end, the coldness that’s been spreading somewhere deep around his heart is harder to ignore. he has not noticed yet, but he’s been slowly losing himself to the darkness brewing inside. and if what they say about the eyes being windows to the soul is true, then suguru’s are sign of no good (you’ve been trying to find the reflection of the suguru you knew but he’s been slipping away further every day).

he knows you’ve been worried; he knows you’ve been asking him to open up and talk; whispering so softly please baby let me help you. and you’re so soft, so sweet, so willing to do anything, he tries to forget the burden he’ll always be carrying by losing himself between your legs. water droplets keep falling down his wet hair, and he thinks he’ll allow his inner demons to be satiated by the thoughts of you. he thinks of your soft lips that he yearns to kiss after a mission because the taste of the strawberry lipstick and green tea mochi you had for desert chases away the taste of vomit from the curses he had to swallow. suguru is sure he will do anything for you. he just has to make sure that you will do anything for him as well.

yu haibara is seventeen years old when he dies. you think you should be crying but the shock of the news has not worn off yet; you’re not able to comprehend yet that it’s another friend gone. you move your gaze to nanami who is sitting in the corner hiding his face behind the towel. he reminds you awfully of the suguru a year and some ago when he trailed behind satoru who was carrying the body of amanai riko. you wonder if nanami is hiding his eyes on purpose; you wonder if he's been crying and feeling guilty and blaming the villagers for what happened. you wonder because that's what you’ve been through with suguru.

you slowly turn to look at your lover: his under-eye bags have become even darker, his face appeared to be more sunken, and he looks even more disheveled than he’s been looking lately. you’ve been trying to persuade him to talk to you about the demons that are pulling him away from you but he doesn’t want to discuss this – that’s not what he wants you for. but you’re so helplessly in love with him, you’re not sure what you would do if he stops coming back to bury himself to the hilt in your pussy as means of coping. so if he wants to chase his demons away by fucking you like his life depends on it, you will allow him to do it every time.

“it was supposed to be an easy mission to exterminate a second-grade cursed spirit… fuck!” nanami feels bubbling frustration and exhaustion mix together, so he tiredly exhales. “their faith in ubusunagami... that was a local deity. that was a first-grade case.”

suguru sighs. “you need to rest for now, nanami. satoru has taken up your mission.”

“can't we just leave everything up to him alone at this point?”

the question hangs heavy in the air. satoru was becoming the strongest sorcerer, he didn’t need you or suguru accompanying him on missions anymore. you wonder if satoru really didn’t notice the changes happening with suguru, or if he just decided to ignore all the signs. maybe you should’ve brought your concerns to him but if your partner did not want to talk to his best friend about it, then you would not get in the mix.

you gently took geto’s hand and intertwined your fingers.

“i’ll wait for you in your room, my love. come find me when you’re ready.”

this has become a routine for you. whenever you would see suguru start slipping, you would offer him the oasis he seeks in your cunt. so you leave the morgue and let suguru come to you.

geto wanders around school before he makes his way to you. he thinks about the conversation he had with yu and yuki right before his mission. he thinks about yu’s sweet innocence and naïve desire to protect everything and everyone. what did he say to geto? it feels really good to be able to give my all to something i can actually do. should suguru have said something to him about how easy it is to slip and fall? how fragile human lives are and how unfair it was that the only lives that the non-sorcerer world was not scared of breaking were theirs?

and then he thinks about what yuki asked him. do you hate non-sorcerers, geto-kun? he makes a turn into a garden behind the school contemplating the question. did he really want to fight and reject the part that makes him grow hot with contempt, burning him from the inside? if the failure of the last year’s mission, if the death of yu haibara, if the thought of you bloody and dead in his arms makes his insides run cold, crippling him to the point of total numbness, then the thoughts of letting the weak and the pathetic live while the people closest to him only keep piling up as corpses make his blood boil. maybe that’s exactly what he was looking for.

suguru makes another turn to walk towards the dorm. he lets his thoughts run their own course while he’s trying to concentrate on the only person who matters to him right now. he knows you’re waiting for him in the room, and he cannot wait to slip into a blissful ignorance about everything, even if it’s just for a second. as he expects, you’re waiting for him on his bed, laying on your side facing the wall. he strips of his jacket and lays next to you snaking his arms around your waist and hugging you so close, you think he would never let you go again.

“need you right now, baby,” geto whispers so quietly and then places the first kiss in the crook of your neck. you turn to face him now instead, and gently cup his face into your hands. it always starts like this. suguru would come to you at the ungodly hour of the night, and you accept him with no hesitation.

“tell me what exactly you need, my love,” you respond and then place a careful kiss on his lips. he doesn’t respond, just lets you move your lips to the other parts of his face, pecking everything you can get your lips on.

“need to have you, to be in you.”

“then you have me. you know i’m yours, now and forever.”

with that, suguru pushes you onto your back and then climbs on top. he captures your lips in the kiss that can only be described as desperate: one of his hands comes up behind your neck and he pulls your face even closer to him, while other slowly trails down your body. he’s invading your mouth with his tongue, stealing all your oxygen for himself as if he’s to decide when you can breathe, teeth clashing. it’s messy, it’s violent in its intensity, and it makes the wetness pool between your legs. suguru pushes his knee between your thighs, spreading them further, and breaks the kiss. his gaze follows the outline of your body all the way to your clothes cunt, and the wet stain on your underwear gets him excited, and makes you blush.

“someone’s been waiting for this, huh?” geto teases and takes off your underwear. he gathers the slick dripping out of you onto his long fingers by circling them around your weeping entrance but doesn’t insert them yet.

“can you take me without any prep?” you can see his is frantic to the point of impatience. you can see how ragged his breathing already is, how heavy his eyelids are and how dilated his pupils became. suguru is a drug addict looking for his next fix, and only your pussy can offer him the relief he needs.

“anything you need, you can take from me,” is the only thing you can respond with, and suguru does not need any other confirmations. he shimmers out of his pants and boxers, takes off his shirt and his naked physic makes your breath hitch. you run your fingers on his pectoral muscles and down his pecks. you want to lick geto’s happy trail, all the way down his hard cock and then gag yourself to the point of tears. but that will possibly come later. for now, you just let him get situated between your thighs, grab your legs and bring them over his shoulders.

“you ready, pretty thing?” suguru knows that he doesn’t need to ask as if you will give any other answer but positive, but you still nod your head. geto knows that he is being selfish – there is no foreplay on nights like this, just pure desire and desperation. he will make sure he will pay you back later. now he takes his pulsating dick in his hand, strokes himself twice and lines himself with your needy hole. and when suguru pushes himself inside, he doesn’t give you any time to adjust to his size and buries himself to the hilt. the stretch is painful, you can feel your walls flatter around him trying to accommodate his cock. geto doesn’t give you any time to even think about adjusting when he suddenly pulls away and then bottoms out again. this has been rehearsed so many times that when the tip of his dick kisses your cervix, you forget all about the pain and let out a wanton moan. it’s in the moments like this that dark-haired sorcerer thinks your moans is the only melody that can sooth his troubled mind.

the pace he sets is unforgiving. it’s fast, it’s bruising, it’s almost maddening in the way he pushes himself in and out. and every time his cock leaves your dripping hole, your body just sucks him right back in. suguru’s hair is disheveled, perfect bun he likes to keep his hair in is unkempt and loose hair strands frame his face making him look like pure sin. he’s still holding onto your ankles, turning his head and placing timid kisses there when he pushes inside you especially rough.

“you’re so tight, angel. you’re always so fucking good to me. i’ve molded your cunt to take me so well, huh?” he’s babbling, and you’re drinking up every dirty thing he says to you. “open your mouth.” you do it without a second delay, and take out your tongue too, just like he’s trained you. geto grabs the back of your knees and pushes them onto your body, bringing you into a mating press. this allows him to reach an even deeper angle inside you (you didn’t think it was even possible), and you moan again through your opened mouth. he brings his face close to yours.

“god, you really are ready to take whatever i give you,” geto says through panting breaths and then spits on your tongue. your boyfriend forces your mouth closed, and you swallow without any further instructions. now that suguru is pressed against your chest, he feels so close, that you’re start losing yourself in the warmth his body provides. he speeds up even more, and with the changed position, he now hits the spot inside that makes your whole world spiral. you want to close your eyes but you cannot tear your gaze away from the devil above you – geto’s strands are now stuck to his forehead, sweat is dripping down the sides of his face, and you want to lick him clean. your breathing is shallow as you feel the orgasm starting to build up inside your belly – suguru can feel your walls flatter around him even tighter, and you know it forces him to go over the edge too.

“just like that, baby, it feels so good,” you cry out and suguru kisses you hard and rough. you know it’s because he’s trying not to come so he is distracting himself by your lips; but when you moan again into his mouth like your life depends on the orgasm he is holding off, he knows he cannot edge himself anymore. so he brings thumb to your clit to add the extra stimulation. as soon as you feel his finger on your sensitive nub, you’re grabbing onto the first thing that comes across your hands – suguru’s shoulders, his biceps, the sheet underneath you. the coil inside your tummy snaps, and your orgasm gushes down geto’s cock. your pussy becomes so tight, it’s impossible to hold back anymore so suguru follows right behind you. he keeps fucking you through your orgasm feeling your tight gummy walls suck him dry. your legs are shaking from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure and the position you're in, and you try to pull yourself away from being overstimulated.

"baby, 's too much..." you try to let him know but he just kisses you again and keeps circling his thumb on your clit.

"aw, are you saying my girl can't take it anymore?" he hits the gummy spot inside of you again and that almost brings you to tears. you know that it must be almost painful for him as well, his softening dick still throbbing inside you but geto does not seem to care. only once he sees the tears running down the sides of your face that he finally slows down.

you’re trying to catch your breath, slow inhales and exhales to bring yourself back to earth. sorcerer hovers above you, and you can still feel him twitching inside. he brings his gaze to where your bodies connect, the intimacy of vulnerability of this moment making him dizzy. suguru starts pulling out and looks at the mess leaking out of you, the combined releases slowly dripping from your hole and down between your ass cheeks. you whine at the sudden emptiness, and despite the shaking legs, overstimulation and the aftershocks of your first orgasm, you already yearn for another. you flutter your eyelids open and pleadingly look at geto, praying he would know exactly what you need right now. he clearly sees the hunger swimming in your eyes but he loves nothing more but to hear you beg.

“what happened, angel? you’ve been fucked so stupid, you can’t even use your words anymore? i bet that’s true, my dick got you so dumb.” you squirm at his words because no matter how hard you try, his mocking tone makes your pussy tighten around nothing and you whimper. "weren't you the one just crying that you can't take it anymore? dick so good you can't even decide if you want more or not?"

“please sugu…” you ask breathlessly, and suguru chuckles darkly. he doesn’t give in into a simple plea and starts kissing down your neck, making his way in between your boobs and licking the sweat that pooled there. he knows you can do better than this.

“you have to give me more than that, pretty girl. what do you need?” he gathers the dripping cum with his two fingers and pushes them back inside you. at the same time, he takes your nipple into his mouth and gently sucks on it. the combined feeling of his fingers going in and out your throbbing core and tongue leisurely licking and sucking on your hardened nipple makes you quiver with anticipation. “still not talking, huh?”

suguru draws a circle around your nipple and then bites on it, making you gasp. he releases it and then blows on the wet skin and that sends shivers down your spine. the juxtaposition of hot skin and cold air makes you wetter and you can’t take it anymore. you finally give your lover what he’s been waiting for.

“i want you to clean me, sugu.”

“and how do you want me to do it?”

“with your tongue. please please please, i need it so bad, i really really need, please clean me up 'guru,” you say through tearful voice. it’s not good enough of begging, he will have to teach you (again) better later, but geto is also running out of patience. he wants to taste the sweet mess between your legs, and he wants you to fall apart around his tongue again. so he languidly trails kisses between your breasts, on your stomach and all the way down to your cunt while still pumping his fingers in and out of you. he only stops once he’s face to face with your wanting hole.

“so beautiful, my girl is always so beautiful and ready for me,” and you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or your pussy. he kisses the inside of your thighs first, tickling you with the locks that left his manbun. he didn’t slow his fingers once, adding more speed, curling them so he can reach the spot that makes you lose you breath and wonder if you were made to always be in this position, for him only. he finally brings his mouth to your puffy lips and spreads your folds so he can see the clit dying for his attention. he lightly slaps it, which earns a surprised gasp from you, and then finally licks up from your hole to you clit sucking on your sensitive nub.

the whole world could collapse now and both of you would not care. geto groans from the taste he’s been dying to have ever since he walked through the doors, and you’re sure moans that escape your throat will make the devil blush if he wasn't present in the room with you. suguru starts lapping at your clit: he’s fully in control of long languid strokes of his tongue that makes your ears ring. he adds now a third finger into you, and the stretch is almost painful again even if you took him raw not even 10 minutes ago. raven-haired sorcerer can feel your walls tighten around his fingers again so he keeps abusing that gummy spot inside, curling them just at the right angle, while he’s licking up your lower lips and sucking your pearl.

you grab the hair tie that holds his almost non-existent bun and take it out of his hair letting the long locks drape all over your thighs and frame his face. you glance down and you think he looks absolutely mesmerizing like this – eating you out like it's his life line, your hand in his hair massaging his scalp, suguru’s moans vibrating against your clit. you grind on his face, bringing yourself even closer, desperate to get to the top of the orgasm you started climbing again.

“someone’s so needy,” geto chuckles.

“yes, baby, please, i need to come, please let me come again,” you plead with him, and he finally gives you what you want. suguru speeds up his fingers once again, swirling his tongue near your entrance to catch your release and then up the inner lips back to the clit where he keeps sucking on your almost overstimulated bud. you weave your fingers through his hair and tug, just enough to let geto know you’re very close. your breathing becomes shallow and you want to continue looking at your lover performing his magic but the orgasm waves are threatening to drown you, so you close your eyes and let go.

suguru feels your cunt tighten around his fingers and he withdraws them from your hole so he can drink up your juices instead. he is pushing his tongue inside you, tasting your sweet release, and he can swear he can taste his own cum that he pushed back into you before. you moan out his name over and over again, repeating it like mantra with “please don’t stop” and “this feel so so good” sprinkled in between your incoherent babbling. geto is unrelenting and he fucks you with his tongue through your second orgasm, not missing a single drop you have to offer him.

once he can feel you start to relax, he withdraws from your abused pussy to admire his work: the mess of your combined releases and his spit on your cunt glistens in the moonlight peaking through the curtains, and suguru thinks he’s never seen as anything as beautiful as this. he reaches for the phone in his pants and opens up a camera.

“i would submit a photo of your pussy like this to a modern museum of art if only anyone else was worthy enough to look at it,” geto says as he snaps couple of pictures of your spread legs. the blush creeps up your cheeks and you hide behind your hands (suguru thinks it’s cute he can still manage to make you blush). once he’s satisfied with the results, he climbs back on top of you. geto looks at your fucked out face and thinks this is the only thing worth to be alive for right now. so he kisses you deep and hard hoping you can feel all of him in the kiss. you softly cup his face and kiss him back, tasting yourself on his lips.

suguru pushes himself back to sit down on his knees and takes in your naked body. you look up at him with the gaze full of adoration, hunger, longing and ache, and he is falling in love all over again. geto stands up from the bed and walks over to the bathroom to grab the towel, leaving the room for a minute shortly after to grab you a bottle of water you keep in your mini fridge. you whine lightly at the loss of his body near you but you’re not even given time to complain before suguru is back by your side in a record time.

“drink this, angel.”

“thank you, my love.”

“anything for you.”

he brings the cup to your lips and carefully tips it so you’re not choking on the water. once you down the full glass, he spreads your legs and cleans everything by gently swiping away the residual liquids. you let him take care of you in a way that’s comforting to him, turning you and cleaning you like a porcelain doll he’s scared of breaking.

suguru is always so gentle after sex. no matter how hard he fucks you or how overstimulated he may make you at times, the absolute tenderness in the way he treats you after never fails to tug at your heartstrings. once he determines you’re clean enough to go to sleep now, he throws the towel into your laundry basket and lies down besides you. you turn to face him and press a soothing kiss to his lips.

“i love you.”

“i love you too, sugu. now go to sleep, you need to rest.”

and with that, geto throws his arms around your waist, traps your legs with his legs and brings you so close as if he’s scared you will slip away.

sleep tight, princess. i will see you again in a new world.

“huh?”

“don’t make me repeat myself. suguru killed everyone in the village and…”

“i heard you the first time. that's why i said, "huh?"

you could see satoru was angry and in denial. and you cannot blame him, after all, he didn’t notice (or didn't want to notice) the abyss that was pulling suguru deeper and deeper every day, it’s no wonder he is in denial of what geto has done, what he has been contemplating of doing for the past year. sure, you wouldn’t have guessed he would take things this far but you saw the darkness slowly seeping through the broken crevices of his façade, you knew it was only a matter of time before he snaps. satoru kept saying something about how this cannot be true but his words sound as if they are coming through a vacuum.

your lack of response makes yaga turn to you. you can see his mouth moving but no words can be distinguished. he calls your name, and you try harder to concentrate on the next question.

“can you hear me? did you know about this?”

“are you asking me if i knew suguru would massacre 112 people?” you snap at him. taking a deep breath, you try controlling the bubbling emotions inside. geto has been on a radio silence for a full week now, and you can’t help but feel hurt and betrayed; and deep down you know that you would never be able to leave him, even if you knew about what he was going to do from the very beginning.

“that’s exactly what i’m asking.”

“no, i didn’t know that. i’d think you have more faith in me that just letting my boyfriend to go on a murder spree.” liar, you think to yourself, you’re such a fucking liar. faith does not mean anything to either of you anymore, and if suguru wanted you to open your chest and give him your heart for his amusement, or if he asked you to drench yourself in the blood of the people he murdered, you would do it in a heartbeat. “and before you ask, i don’t know where he is. he’s been ignoring my calls and messages ever since he took that mission.”

both satoru and yaga let out a deep exhale: satoru’s sounds defeated and almost broken (you think he might be trying to hold back tears); yaga’s is resigned and exhausted. no one speaks anymore, and the silent agreement is made to go separate ways for the day.

you don’t know how to feel about this whole situation. you think you feel hurt, betrayed, shocked. and you know that you’re the only person who feels this way not because suguru committed a crime worthy of death penalty but because he didn’t trust you enough to let you know about his plans in the first place. didn’t the past year two of you spent together show him the depth of your loyalty? did all of the nights spent tangled in sheets meant nothing? when you would let him do whatever he wanted to your body because being lost in the feeling of earthly pleasure was the only way he could feel grounded? you wanted to believe that all of that meant more than just him fucking you to oblivion to forget about the pain tearing him apart. should have you done it differently? maybe made him talk, open up, let you see inside his troubled mind? you’ve been trying to call him and message him every day ever since he ghosted you, and today’s discovery just made the pit inside your heart grow even bigger.

you finally reach your dorm room. you drop on your bed as soon as you step inside, clothes be damned, and grab suguru’s sweater he left on your chair, deeply inhaling his scent. you think about “i love you” he told you the last night you saw him a week ago; you think about all the times he kissed you so deeply, it felt like he was trying to carve out a home somewhere between your teeth. you think about his eyes, and the way they glistened with that special spark every time he looked at you. and you wonder if all of the significant memories of you together were only significant to you.

you body and mind feels heavy so you close your eyes and curl yourself into a fetal position, hugging suguru’s sweater even tighter. the tears start pooling in the corners of your eyes, and you don’t remember when was the last time that you cried yourself to sleep.

4:35pm

im sorry i haven’t said anything

4:35pm

but this was something i needed to do on my own

4:36pm

pls come to this address ill explain everything

4:36pm

[sent location]

suguru keeps staring at his phone screen. ever since he disappeared a week ago, he’s been ignoring your attempts to contact him. he wanted to make sure that the coast is clear, and all of the ties are cut off before he can contact you again. leaving his best friend behind was painful; but geto is not a child, and he understands that him and satoru will never see eye-to-eye on this matter. that’s why he had to say goodbye to him today the way he did. but leaving you behind? unimaginable. so he feels his anxiety bubbling up when he hasn’t received a response back to the messages he sent you 8 hours ago.

he feels a small tug on his sleeve.

“geto-sama?” a small voice is unsure and almost scared. he looks down at the dark-haired girl. mimiko. her big doe eyes glistening with tears and face is covered with bruises that still haven’t faded: his heart breaks at the sight and he is wondering about how long the abuse was going on for before he discovered them in a cage, locked away like animals. the mere thought of that place fills him with burning rage.

“yes?”

“when will we leave this place? nanako says it reminds her of our old house, and it’s scaring her,” mimiko whispers back. and it’s so quiet, it saddens geto again thinking how many times their little voices were never heard.

“we will leave soon, i promise.”

suguru looks out of the window of this abandoned building. he had to take a temporary cover here before he can figure out what happens next. his thoughts drift back to you. he’s wondering if you’ve been interrogated about his whereabouts yet, if they used any techniques on making you talk. he swears if any of the higher-ups got to you before he could figure out how to leave jujutsu high behind, the massacred village will be the least of their worries.

he wonders if he misread your constant acceptance in the past year. he wonders if you’ll come screaming at him too, asking why he did it and that maybe it’s not too late to come back. but what he is scared of the most is to see the fear in your eyes when you see him again: they should be scared of him, but not you, never you.

suguru thinks about the last night you spent together, and the i love yous exchanged in the darkness of the night. he knows he meant it, he’s sure you meant it too, so what is this sinking feeling growing deeper somewhere inside his ribcage? he thinks it’s fear but a different kind this time – he dreamt of building his new world with you by his side so now that he’s on the silent end of the phone, he fears he was wrong, yet again.

but before geto can drown any deeper in the overwhelming feeling of possible loss, he senses your cursed energy. he springs to his feet, and the very next minute, the door to the room where they are now creaks opened.

“suguru?” your voice pierces through the oppressive silence, and geto releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. he crosses the room in three big steps and hugs you so tight, all the air from your lungs is immediately pushed out.

“god, i am so happy you’re here. i was worried you wouldn’t come when you didn’t respond to my messages.”

“baby, i had to get all of your stuff first, didn’t know if you needed anything, and i had to time when i sneak out without leaving any traces, higher-ups are on high alert now and… wait, you were worried i didn’t respond to your messages?” you point an accusatory finger at him. “what about all the messages and calls you ignored from me for the last week? what about the fact that i am finding out about whatever you’ve been doing from yaga out of all people? i thought you left me, i thought…” you stop yourself as your lips start trembling and you bite down on your lower lip to prevent the tears threatening to fall.

suguru looks at you in shock. he didn’t even consider the fact that this could be a sign of him abandoning you. because how could he? after everything you’ve done for him, unconditionally? after everything he's done for you? didn’t he make it clear that you’re stuck with him, for better or for worse, and that he does not intend on letting you go?

“i’m sorry, i should’ve thought about how things looked from your perspective. i am really glad you’re here now, i will never do something like this to you ever again, i promise,” and he cradles your face in his hands so gently, you really wonder if these are the same hands that are capable of murdering 112 people. “i love you, always and forever.”

“i love you too," he softly whispers. "by the way, i want you to meet someone,” he takes your hand in his and leads you further to the middle of the room. you're just now noticing another presence and then you see them: two little girls huddled together on a couch. they move their gaze from suguru to you as if confirming you're safe to approach.

"mimiko, nanako, this is my girlfriend," geto says your name and the girl slowly repeat it back. you squad down to bring yourself to their face level and gently smile.

"it's very nice to meet you, mimiko and nanako," you ruffle their hair, and suguru realizes that that's exactly the same thing that he did to them the first time he saw them. a warm feeling spreads inside his chest at this thought, something he hasn't felt in a while. "i hope we can be good friends soon!"

the girls are still shy and don't say anything back but they don't look as scared anymore. you bring yourself back to your full height and turn to suguru. he responds to your silent question.

"i saved them during the mission i went on last week. they were locked away in the cage, like goddamn animals," you can see the anger babbling up again so you just put your head in his chest and hug him. geto visibly relaxes and kisses the crown of your head.

"you're my new family now, i don't need anyone else," suguru says, and he fully means it. you don't bring up the real family he killed, or the friends he massacred in his village. you don't bring it up because it won't change a thing for you.

suguru cups your face again, leans down and kisses you on the lips like he has never kissed you before, or like he will never have a chance to kiss you again. it knocks the wind out of you, and your knees go weak so suguru needs to hold you upright. and no matter what anyone else might think or say, this feels right, being here enveloped in his arms, pressed against his chest, tasting nicotine on his tongue. you know this is exactly where you belong – in his arms, between his lips, in his heart, always and forever.

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hurts2think · 3 months ago

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Hi! I love your work and I know you probably are really busy with other requests and stuff. But I was wondering if you could do a Red x Chloe x fem reader? Where the reader is having nightmares and is scared to go to sleep and so she she’s really tired all the time and has lost a lot of energy, and Red and Chloe are really worried about her and confront her about it. So like a hurt/comfort.

Again you’re probably super busy with stuff so I understand if this isn’t possible. Have a great day!

⚔️Chloe Charming x Red Hearts x Reader♥️

Reader pronouns: she/her

Pairing: Chloe Charming x Red Hearts x Fem!Reader

Plot: For the past month you've been having the same dream. A dreadful dream that keeps you up all night for the past month. You start sleeping in class and becoming less attentive, of course your two girlfriends will start to pick up that something is wrong

Word Count: 1.6k

Extra: Chloe and Red are dating and you're dating Chloe and Red! Hurt/comfort my favorite, I have another hurt/comfort planned but the polycule idea was too tempting I had to do it though there isn't much dialogue as I wanted there to be. 🫠

It's never a particularly dark and stormy night when it happens. It's usually a pretty mild night, actually. Of course, the weather had nothing to do with the dreams you see in your deepest sleeps.

It started about a month ago. A lot of things happened between a month ago and today. You go accepted to your dream college, you and your two girlfriends started officially dating, you're planning to move out of your house and into the AP dormitory, and you got a job. All great things. Things that make you so happy with your life and proud of yourself.

So why is your mind plagued with horrific nightmares every night?

It always starts the same. In your room. The song "Chapel of Love" by The Dixie Cups always playing on a radio you didn't own. The song never bothered you before, you actually used to really like it.

But now you can't help but feel like it was something out of a horror movie because of these nightmares.

You'd be packing your room to move into the dorms, the song playing faintly in the back. And everytime, without fail, at the line 'Birds all sing as if they knew' there was a light knock on your door.

You skip over to open it, assuming it's one of your parents, only for it to lead into nothing but darkness. You turn around and see the same darkness through your window. Something pulls you to walk into the darkness before you're suddenly in an endless dormitory hallway. Not like the dorms at Auradon. But college dorms that smelled sour.

You'd walk down the hall, trying to find your dorm number only for your eyes to strain and never be able to read the numbers.

And then, something chases you. It's something different everytime. Your parent, a friend, a monster, an invisible force. But everytime you end up running into a room with the only number you could read. 777.

Once you walk in, you're suddenly in your room again. But there's someone else in there. It's you. You and yourself. And never does she look very happy to see you. Your dreams always end with your doppelganger pouncing you and then you waking up before anything too graphic happens.

At first you suspected it was only a one time thing, until it started to occur more and more often until it started happening every night. And this past week you hadn't slept at all other than in your classes. You've never fallen asleep in class until now...

----

Now, you really were in your room packing for your move. You knew you weren't dreaming, because instead of The Dixie Cups, Maddona was playing. And instead of a dark endless void outside, it was bright and sunny out. And instead of being by yourself, your two wonderful girlfriends were by your side, helping you pack.

Well, more like you and Chloe were packing. Red laid back on your stuffed animal filled bed and ranted about the tourney team. It was a nice day and you were happy. But inevitably, very tired. Your eyelids threatened to shut at almost every moment. And once you began getting too tired and spaced out to respond to Red and Chloe's conversation, the two of them gave each other a knowing look.

There was silence before Chloe spoke up, "So... You seem pretty tired. Did you sleep well last night?" She asked, taping up one of the boxes

"Huh?" Your head perked up. Truthfully, you hadn't slept at all last night. Though you did fall asleep as the breakfast table, "Uhm. I slept fine. I guess I just went to bed a little late, ya know?" You awkwardly chuckle.

You really don't know why you lied. You just didn't want to worry your girlfriends. If they found out you'd been only getting a couple hours of sleep a week, they'd probably smother you until you did fall asleep.

Red sat up, "Oh really? And you just happen to start falling asleep everyday in class? After never once falling asleep? You haven't been sleeping. Why?" Red asked, clearly more direct with getting to the problem, where Chloe wanted to slowly work up to it.

You turn to have your back face them. They could always tell when you're lying just by your face, "I've just been a little stressed about the move and stuff, that's it." You reassure.

The two girls looked at each other again, clearly not convinced. They bugged you about it for a little longer before finally deciding to leave you alone.

"Just, promise you'll go to bed at a normal time tonight, alright?" Chloe said, clear worry in her tone.

You sighed, looking between her and Red, "Fine. I promise I'll try to go to bed at a normal time."

----

You really did try. You tried so hard. But that night as you laid in bed, you were too scared to fall asleep. Everytime your eyes threatened to close, you only thought about what horrible thing would be chasing you next.

But your body could only hold awake for so long. So eventually, you did fall back into a sleep.

And you had the same dream. The same damn dream you haf every night. The same dream you could never escape from.

But once you opened that door and saw your doppelganger, you were suddenly jerked awake earlier than usual. You sat up quickly to the sound of something at your window.

You peer your head slightly to try and see what it was before you suddenly yelp at your window being opened.

"Wha— Red??" You whisper yelled, careful not to wake up your parents by being too loud. "Why are you coming through my window at four o'clock in the morning?" You ask, still obviously startled.

"Because it would've been rude to ring the doorbell and wake the whole house up? Duh." She said as if it was obvious, grabbing onto the top of the window sill and swinging inside.

"I told her we shouldn't have gone through the window!" Another head suddenly popped through the window. A head of blue curly hair.

Now you were only more confused, "Uhm. I love you guys, but what in the world are you doing?"

Red smiled and put her hands on her hips, "Just making sure you're actually sleeping like you said you would."

Chloe hopped inside too, closing the window behind her.

"Yeah, and maybe jumping through my window isn't the best way to make sure I get a good night's sleep." You scoff, rubbing your eyes. You still felt exhausted and a little frightened from your nightmare.

"And maybe you shouldn't keep your door unlocked." Red said, inviting herself to sit down next to you on your bed, kicking her boots off.

Chloe took her own shoes off before sitting in the other side of you, "Just tell us what's wrong, love. You've been acting weird this past week." She said. Rubbing her hand down your arm comfortingly.

"It's nothing, it's fine. It's just..." You fall silent for a moment, debating on if you want to tell them. "I guess I've just been having weird dreams recently..." You mutter out.

"Weird? Like how?" Red asked, raising a brow.

You explain your dream and how it goes everytime. The two of them listen with no interruptions until you were done. Some of it was hard to explain and you were scared it would all sound silly.

"So you're scared of moving and going to college? Growing up?" Chloe asked. There was no judgment in her voice.

You look at her and give her a weird look, "What? No? Why would I be scared of that? I'm excited for that. I'm excited to be roommates with you guys and get into my dream school."

"Doesn't make growing up any less scary," Chloe said, as if she understood exactly how you felt.

Red wrapped an arm around your waist and leaned onto you as a form of comfort, "It's okay to be scared. But why deal with this by yourself? We're always here for you and always will be. We love you." Red assures you.

Chloe smiles and nods, "Yeah. We're definitely not going anywhere. It's not healthy to deal with this on your own. Even if you think it's not that big of a deal, if it's impacting you negatively, it is a big deal and we want to help you. We always want to help. Just like the countless times you've helped us."

You couldn't help but smile bashfully as your eyes began to get a little wet. You were so grateful for being surrounded by such wonderful people. To have the two best girlfriends in the world. To be so accepted. "I guess... You're right..." You admit, looking down at your hands that were in your lap.

"Of course we are. We're always right. Especially when it comes to our girlfriends. We know everything." Red winks with a smirk.

You and Chloe both chuckle. "Right. You're right. Thank you." You look between Red and Chloe with an endearing look.

Red leans over and kisses you on the cheek, "How about a sleepover, cute stuff? Might help you sleep better." She grins.

"Oh! Good idea! Its been so long since we've all had a sleepover together." Chloe suddenly gets a grin of her own.

You laugh, "Fine fine. You guys can sleep over." You smile in defeat.

You all cuddle into each other, holding onto each other and feeling safe. Feeling safe and like nothing could hurt you this way. Nothing could get to you. You'd open that door and you'd see yourself happy and protected rather than anything else.

Because you knew you'd always have your two favorite people in the world on your side.

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barefoothighlander · 1 year ago

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HELLO i have a request so ill try my best to explain it okay uhm, so could you do threesome like ghost x reader x könig ? IDK ABOUT THE PLOT BUT LIKE first they dont give in because of the age gap cuz they think y/n is too young or whatever but them they get put in a same room for a night since they had to stop for some serious reasons LIKE IDK YOU TIDY UP ALL THIS MESS BUT PLEASE LIKE THE READER HAS CHOKING KINK AND DEGRADING KINK YOU MAKE THE REST THANK YOU SO MUCH IF YOU DO THIS BECAUSE LIKE I RLLY CANT FIND ANYTHING WHERE READER GETS SANDWITCHED BETWEEN TWO MASSIVE MEN 😭😭 i beg 🙏🙏🙏🙏

I will take every given chance to thirst over these massive men, won't lie I got carried away with this so... enjoy

warnings: mdni (18+), smut, unprotected pinv, threesome, age gap, degradation, some praise, choking, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, mention of alcohol, blowjob, blindfold, oral (fem rec), creampie

You'd been in the safehouse with Konig and Ghost for two days already, two days of waiting in silence for someone to come and rescue you. The two men gave little in means of conversation, sitting quietly in their posts, keeping watch, occasionally glancing over to you.

You grew tired of the quiet within the first night, attempting a few times to spark conversations, the men would give simple responses in the form of hums or nods, not affording you full sentences. They had been awkward around you for a few weeks, the treatment starting after a drunken night at Soaps house, a few rounds of 'never have I ever' and too many rounds of shots.

"Right but if ye were to have a threesome, who'd you pick?" Soaps question makes your eyes widen, your cheeks blushing as you realize you don't even need time to think of your response.

"Ghost and Konig" Your response caused a thick tension to fill the air, you purposefully avoid the gaze of the two men as Soap's eyes lit up.

"I dinnae if you could handle both of them, lass, I mean, they're... large" Soap chooses his words carefully, eyes glancing around the room as the two men remain like statues, your heartbeat racing in your ears.

"Next question" Ghost's voice breaks the tension, you turn your attention back to your drink, heat flushing your skin.

You didn't realize how much your drunken words would affect the men but now, two weeks later and stuck in a safe house with them it showed, barely a word muttered between them.

"What's wrong with you two?" You ask in a fit of either confidence or annoyance,

"What do you mean?" Ghost turns to you

"One day were all chatting and having fun, and the next you two avoid me like the plague"

The men share a look, you throw your arms up in question,

"We aren't avoiding you" Konig shrugs

"I don't know how long we're stuck here and if neither of you will talk I'm going to lose my mind"

"Stop being a brat" Ghosts words make you tense

"Then tell me why you won't talk to me"

"Because you're just a kid," Ghost says, his voice low

"I'm younger than you, that's why you won't talk to me" You scrunch your face

"It's more that you want to fuck us" Ghost states plainly, your body freezes, your eyes widening at his words, you turn to Konig who's just as frozen as you, Ghost rests his weight on one leg, his thumb through the loop of his belt as he stares at you.

"I don't" You stammer

"What about the game the other night?" Konig adds

"Just a game"

"You're a terrible liar kid," Ghost says

"Stop calling me that" Your hands begin to fidget, unsure of what to do under the pressure of their eyes

"What would you rather us call you?"

"My name" Your eyes are glued to the floor, unable to look at them, Ghost moves toward you, his boots heavy against the floor. His hand moves to rest on your chin, tilting your head to face him,

"You sure there's not anything else you wanna be called?"

"Ghost.." Konig warns, "We can't"

"M'not sure about that, it's just us here anyway"

Your skin burns under his stare, his hand moves from your jaw back to rest on his vest, his shoulders broad, his stance purposefully intimidating you.

"Kneel"

Your breath is rapid, you keep your eyes locked on his as you drop to your knees, your neck craned to look at him,

"Ghost" Konig glances between your bodies, his tone stern, a final warning to his teammate

"Do you want this?" He softens his gaze for a moment, giving you an out, you're tiny under his hulking frame, cheeks red as your heart races, you glance between the masked man, focusing your gaze back on his skull mask.

"Please" It comes out as a whimper

"Please what?"

You huff a breath, "Please fuck me"

"Tell him" Ghost turns towards Konig, you follow his gaze, pleading eyes landing on his hood,

"Please, I need you, need you both"

"Oh kleine maus" He releases a deep breath, moving toward you, he stands behind you, you're trapped between the men with no escape, head level with their groins as your mind flurries.

"You gonna be good for us?"

You nod your head

"You gonna take what we give you?" Ghosts hands rest on his belt

"Yes" You can feel your arousal pooling, you slick drenching your panties as you sit, Ghost palms himself over his pants the tent in his pants more visible by the second.

You wriggle your hips, trying to gain some friction on your sex but Konigs hands are quick to settle on your shoulders, keeping you still,

"Careful, you take what we give you, nothing more" His voice echoes through your ears from above, you look up at the men, trying to gage what they were thinking but their masks reveal nothing, you furrow your brows in a silent plea, the sound of Ghosts belt music to your ears.

"You stay focused on me, eyes ahead" Ghost orders, you nod, doe eyes staring at him as you feel Konig kneel behind you, his hands roaming your frame.

Ghost unzips his pants letting his cock spring free, you wet your lips at the sight, a sudden nervousness taking over your body as you realize how big he is. He takes his cock in his hand, pumping it a few times,

"Don't worry, you can take it"

He teases his leaking tip against your lips, smearing his slick against the skin as you part them, flattening your tongue, he runs his tip over the muscle, gathering your saliva on it before pushing in an inch. You hum around him, the taste of his pre cum salty on your tongue.

Konig's hands move to roam under your shirt, bunching the fabric above your breasts before urging your arms up so he can lift it, his hands moving to paw at your breasts. The contact forces a moan from your throat, the vibration making Ghost let out a small grunt as he pushes deeper into your mouth.

Ghosts hand cups your jaw, pulling your gaze up to him, you stare at him through your lashes, he squeezes your jaw lightly asking permission, you nod slightly and blink your eyes at him. You brace your hands against his thighs as his fingers pull your hair back, he thrusts into your mouth slowly, allowing you time to breathe before he pulls out all the way, forcing his cock into the back of your throat, forcing you to gag around him.

You breathe through your nose as his tip brushes against your throat over and over, the saliva from your mouth polling around the base of his cock, dripping down to his balls.

Konig's hands roam further down your frame, his fingers slipping past the band of your pants to cup your sex, the contact making you moan around Ghost's length.

"Scheiße so wet already, kleine schlampe" His fingers tease over your clothed pussy, you move your hips to grind down on his fingers and he pinches your clit, forcing a muffled yelp from you.

"Needy slut" He breathes in your ear, his words going straight to your core, tears prick your eyes as Ghosts thrusts deep into your mouth, pulling his cock out as your head falls forward, gasping for air,

"Please, touch me" You pant,

"S'that what you want you fucking slag, need Konig's fingers to stretch you out while I fuck your throat?"

"Yes, God please" You beg, your chest heavy

"Earn it" Ghosts hand moves his cock back to your lips, your reach to grip his length, your saliva working to help you glide your digits up and down his cock, taking him into your mouth as Konig's hand dips below your panties, you clench your eyes shut as he pushes his fingers into you, his thumb settling against your clit as the digits pump into your weeping cunt.

"Eyes up here" Ghost's hand grabs your cheek, forcing you to look at him, your work his length, flattening your tongue to allow him deeper into your throat, gagging around his cock as Konig's fingers curve to swipe against your sweet spot.

You moan around Ghost's cock, his grip on your hair growing tighter as your hand pumps him, you keep your eyes locked on his as Jonig's fingers stretch you out, his thumb circling your clit making you clench down on him, his chest is pressed to your back keeping you still, you're trapped between the men.

Konig's free hand moves to pinch your hardened nipple, the sensation bringing you closer to the edge, Ghost can feel your movements become sloppy, his hand moving to grab atop yours, guiding it over his cock,

"You wanted it, now take it," He says through gritted teeth, he buries his cock in your throat and you arch against Konig, the hand on Ghost's thigh digging into the muscle as you reach your peak, whining and moaning around Ghosts cock,

"That's it, filthy girl" Konig coos in your ear, his fingers fuck you through your high as Ghost holds your jaw steady, his balls tighten as his head falls forward, strings of curses and grunts coming from him as he spills into your mouth, his seed dripping down your throat.

Your tears stain your cheeks as you swallow around him, gasping for a breath as he pulls out, a string of saliva dripping from his tip as you fall forward. Konig pulls his hands from you, his hands settling on your hips, helping you up, he holds you against his form and you feel his hard-on press against your back, the sensation making a shiver run up your spine.

He guides you toward the bed that sits in the corner of the room, helping you to sit on the edge before moving his hands from you.

“Close your eyes kleine maus”

You do as he says, fluttering your kids shut till your sight is consumed by darkness, you follow the sound of the men, the noises of their buckles clattering and they drop their pants down. You hear footsteps near you, hands holding the sides of your face as a piece of fabric is placed over your eyes, and tied behind your head.

“For identity's sake,” You hear Ghost say, you can’t see him but you can smell him, gunpowder and tobacco invades your senses as he moves from you.

You feel the mattress dip below you, strong arms pulling you back against the bed as your limbs splay across the sheets, rough hands knead at your breasts causing soft meals to fall from your lips, another pair tugs at your pants, pulling them from your legs so you’re bare, the cool air of the room hitting your dripping pussy, goosebumps form on your skin.

You move your arms to feel the man behind you, trying to figure out which one it was before strong hands grab yours, pinning them down,

“No touching, not yet” The English accent rings in your ears, you sigh quietly as Konig’s hands roam your bare thighs, squeezing at the flesh, you feel his breathe ghost over your cunt, you try to squeeze your legs shut but he holds them open, pressing your lower half into the mattress.

Your head rests in Ghost's lap, one hand holding yours down while his other moves to settle at the base of your neck, his fingers on your pulse point.

“Open your mouth”

You do as he says, dropping your jaw as he leans over your form, spit dripping from his tongue past your lips, you swallow it with a hum.

“Such a good little whore” His fingers squeeze lightly at your neck, your back pulls away from the mattress, arching as Konig’s tongue flicks over your clit.

He laps at your cunt, flattening his tongue to lick a stripe between your folds before closing his lips around your bud, sucking at the nerves as your head pushes further into Ghost's lap.

Ghost releases you, letting your hands roam to grab at anything you can while his settles at your breasts, twisting and punching your nipples, Konig’s tongue flicks over your clit, circling and sucking at the bud while you writhe under him.

“You’re gonna cum once more, then we’re gonna ruin you like the little slut you are” Ghost emphasizes his words with a squeeze to your throat, strangled moans escaping your throat as Konig’s tongue laps at you, inching you toward release.

His hands pin your hips as you try to grind against him, needing more,

“Be good, needy thing” He chastises from below you, his fingers digging into your hips sure to leave bruises as he continues his assault.

“C’mon, be a good little whore and cum on his tongue” Ghost voices rings above you, his words shooting straight to your core, you strain under Konig’s grip, his tongue has you teetering on the edge, he teases his fingers around your entrance earning a wanton moan from you as he pushes in, the new sensation has your vision blinding behind the mask as your second orgasm rips through your body, your hips twitching against his lips while Ghosts hands roam your form.

He eases you through your high, letting you come down slowly before detaching himself,

“Scheiße, taste so sweet, if I knew you sounded like that we would've done this sooner”

Your breaths are heavy as you lay against Ghost, your legs falling against the bed as Konig stands, his hands reach for your waist, flipping you to your stomach with ease, you fall against Ghost as he shifts under you, his hands steadying you as Konig lifts your hips from the bed.

He slots himself behind you, his palms pressing against your ass, spreading it to get a better view, Ghost's hands move to gently remove the mask from your eyes, peeling the fabric from your face, his hand on your chin as he tilts your head,

"Need you to keep your eyes on me, gonna watch you fall apart" His voice is gruff, you wriggle your hips toward Konig in anticipation, his tip gliding between your folds, collecting your slick. Ghost holds your face up, forcing you to strain your neck, an arch forming in your back as Konig lines himself up, pressing his tip against your hole, you gasp at the feeling, now aware of how big he is.

"You can take it, I know you can"

You relax your shoulders, hands pressing into Ghost as Konig pushes in deeper, the stretch of his fingers nothing compared to the way his cock feels,

"So goddamn tight maus," He says through gritted teeth, you struggle to keep your eyes on Ghost, your jaw falling open as gasps and moans slip past your lips,

"S'alright, you'll warm her up for me" Ghost reaches for your hand, moving it to settle atop his growing erection, his hand keeping yours pressed against him.

Konig quickens his pace, your body shifting back and forth against Ghost as he drags his length across your soaked walls, your slick wetting his pubes every time he bottoms out, pressing against your cervix, you watch Ghost with hooded lids, his face remaining stoic as you palm his length.

Konig's grunts fill your ears, his fingers digging into your hips as he pounds into you, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room,

"That's it, love, take it, just like the little slut you are"

You moan at his words and you can see Ghost smirk under his mask, he's watching you unravel under their touch, your legs getting wobbly as Konig stretches you around his massive cock, forcing you to take every inch.

Konig snaked an arm around your waist, lifting your hips up slightly, allowing his fingers to tease around your clit, you let out a gasp and clench down on his length, the rough pads of his fingers circling your bud, his hold the only thing keeping you upright.

You drop your head forward but you're caught by Ghost, his fingers firm around your throat as he pulls your gaze back to him,

"Eyes on me or you don't get to cum"

You let out a small whimper, your free hand digging into the flesh of his thigh as Knoig works you toward another orgasm, the heat in your stomach building to sear your skin, every nerve alive as he thrusts into you.

He works your clit at a vicious pace, your brain a ball of fuzz as it refuses to form words, resorting to strings of moans and whimpers, you stare at Ghost with pleading eyes, tears brimming in them,

"You wanna cum?" He squeezes your throat, his other hand pressing your digits against his now firm cock.

You nod against his grip,

"Use your words"

"Yes, please, need to cum"

"You wanna soak his cock, you fuckin slag, do it, cum for us"

Your orgasm rips through your body, your limbs going limp as Konig holds you up, fucking you through your high as you melt against Ghost, fingers clenching against his flesh.

"Such a tight little pussy, mein gott, gonna make me cum"

Konig buries himself inside you, his balls pressed against your core,

"Beg for it slut, beg for his cum"

You let out a deep moan as the sensation, you're stuffed to the brim, unable to move,

"Please, need your cum, please Konig"

He grips your flesh as his muscles tighten, spilling his load inside you, keeping it deep inside your walls as he gives shallow thrusts, forcing it deeper, his spend floods your walls, spilling out as he pulls from you.

He releases you, letting you fall forward as Ghost moves from his spot leaving you limp against the bed, Konigs hands press against your shoulders, pulling you to all fours while he sits in front of you, resting against his legs. His cock is sitting in front of your eyes, his softening length teasing at your lips, you flatten your tongue but he pulls back,

"Not yet maus, gonna fill you up, don't worry"

You whimper at his words, needing to taste him while Ghost slots himself behind you, your aching core clenching around nothing as his fingers tease your slit, gathering the mixture of spend and smearing it around your skin.

He gives you no time to adjust, bottoming out in a single thrust, Konigs hands keeping you upright as your pussy clenches around Ghost, your tears stain your cheeks and Konig swipes a thumb over the wet skin,

"You're doing so well darling" He purrs, words escape you, diluted to a babbling mess as Ghost pounds into you, Konig kneels forward, his palm stroking up his length as his cock swipes across your wet lips, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth.

Ghost presses a firm hand to your spine, your stomach pressing against the mattress, allowing him deeper while Konigs tip teases at your mouth, you part your lips for him, he smears your saliva around his tip, the taste of his spend lingering on his cock as you flatten your tongue, tasting him.

He pushes into your mouth, your body pinned between the two men as they fill you from both ends, Ghosts hands spread your ass as he lifts his mask above his nose, a string of spit dripping from his tongue to your hole, wetting the skin as he continues to fuck you at an unrelenting pace.

Your vision is blurry, your body weak as the men continue to wreck you, Konigs length pushing past your lips to drag along the inside of your mouth, you moan around his length, your hands digging into the sheets as you try to stay balanced.

"Is this what you wanted, needed to be filled by two cocks you little slut" Ghost emphasizes his words with harsh thrusts, the wet wounds of your hole filling the air as you gag around Konig, his balls slapping against your chi with every thrust.

Their hands keep you steady as your brain clouds with lust, all your senses invaded by the two men as they wreck your body, every part of you claimed by them.

"You wanna walk around with our cum in you? Dirty fucking girl"

The thought makes you hum around Konigs cock, your pussy clenching around Ghost,

"She likes that, you want us to mark you huh, ruin this little pussy"

You can't think to respond, simply resorting to clenching your eyes and arching your hips further toward Ghost, allowing him impossibly deep inside you.

Konig moves his hand to grab your hair, tugging your neck back to allow himself deeper, burying his cock in your throat as you gag around him before he pulls out a moment, allowing you to breathe.

"Please, need to feel you" You beg, your head turning towards the man behind you, Konigs hand moves to your throat, keeping you still in front of him as he thrusts back into your mouth. You're a mess of moans between the men, your hips twitching as Ghost's fingers connect with your swollen clit.

"One more, give me one more" He circles your bud, your cries muffled by Konig's length thrusting into your mouth as your orgasm builds quickly, you want to beg him to stop but you can't, your body moulding to the men as they bring you back to the edge.

The coil inside you threatens to snap as Ghost swipes your clit in time with his thrusts,

"Scheiße, look at me" Konig pants above you, you tilt your head to face him, your skin red, your lips puffy as you stare at him through your lashes. He stares at you with a piercing gaze and your orgasm erupts in your chest, clenching around Ghost while you moan around Konig, your body trembling under the men as your vision goes white, a dull ringing filling your ears.

"That's it, fuck" He buries himself in your throat, his seed filling your mouth as his hips twitch, you hum around his tip, your tongue lapping up every drop from his cock as he pulls out with a pop.

You take a deep breath, panting as Ghost pounds into you, your head falling forward as your arms give out, your drool pooling under your cheek as he presses you into the mattress.

"So fucking good" Ghost grunts, leaning over your frame as his tip prods at your cervix, he cums with a growl, his sounds buzzing above you while he fills you with his seed, your abused hole milking him. He keeps his softening cock inside for a moment, pulling it out and replacing it with his fingers, pushing the leaking spend back inside you, your hips flinch from the stimulation, your slick coating the insides of your thighs.

You fall forward, your body limp against the bed, the mattress dips under the weight of the men, Ghost lays back against the bed, his arms tugging you against him so your head can rest on his chest. Konig turns to grab a small cloth, easing himself down the bed to carefully wipe around your core, careful to avoid your swollen clit as he cleans you.

You catch your breath while Konig lays behind you, his arms snaking around your waist to hold you, your limbs are tangled between the two men while your heartbeat relaxes. His hands draw lazy patterns over your skin as your muscles ease, melting into the men,

"Did so well" Ghost places a soft kiss on the crown of your head, your cheeks pressed to the exposed skin of his upper chest, the warmth of the men comforting your sore body as the light of the sun peaks through the windows of the house.

"So good for us" Konigs hands trace over your skin, his chest flush with your back as he sandwiches you between him and Ghost, the thrum of their heartbeats filling your ears.

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deathbxnny · 5 months ago

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I hope you dont mind another one but it’s something i’ve been thinking about. Dw this is more hurt/comfort. Can I request Wriothesly, Ayato, and Tighnari reacting to an alternate version of their dead kid all grown up? Like my other request, can you write it where it happens during their respective Archon quest (and well for Ayato, his story quest)?

Context:

He used to have a kid. Whether the kid was related to him or not doesn't matter as he still loves them all the same. But one day, his kid died around their pre teens. I'll leave it ambiguous on how they died but their death broke him.

Few years later, the genshin impact plot happens and he meets the traveler and their companions where one of them just so happens to be his dead kid's alternate self. And they're all.. grown up. Despite looking much older, he knew deep down that that's his kid but also not really his kid because he knows his kid is dead, they died young.

The person in front him is just an alternate version of them. A glimpse of what his kid could be if they were still alive..

- Flower Anon 🌸

This one hurts so well, Flower Anon, so thank you so much for another great request!!<33

(Just like the other request, this is also generalized to make it easier for my fish memory brain-)

Content: Reader died young, mention of alt reader being more of a doppelganger in a way, grief, vague child death, angst, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

》TIGHNARI

Tighnari didn't notice at first, or well, he tried not to pay too much attention to the fact that you looked eerily similar to his deceased child. His heart was racing, ears flattening to his head momentarily, so many unsaid words stuck in his throat. And then there was nothing.

His face gently relaxed into it's usual deadpan, shoulders dropping, his instincts grimly reminding him that you were indeed not his child, but somehow just a coincidental and much older doppelganger of it.

But the heart ache began to linger for different reasons. Mainly due to the fact that a part of him finally healed at the sight of you. He always wanted his young one to grow up happy and healthy. And whilst it never got to do so on it's own, he allowed himself to imagine that his child lived on through this version of you.

》KAMISATO AYATO

Ayato smiled bitterly, immideatly recognizing your younger features in this much older version. His heart hurt, ached, and felt like it was being ripped out all over again, yet his signature smile still remained. He had a role to play, an important title to uphold. But he still couldn't bare to look at you directly after the first time he did so.

His answers to the travelers and Paimons questions were short and swift, making it kind of obvious to his sister next to him how desperate he was to get away from everyone. Not that she could blame him, as she felt the same. Your death broke everyone in the family, and they found no joy in seeing you all grown up because this wasn't you. You weren't the child they lost.

Ayaka eventually feels too faint to continue the conversation, which frees the two siblings from you and your companions questions and confused glances. The silence between the two is deafening, as they watch you leave with dull, solemn looks, the questions of "what if" and "if only" plaguing their exhausted minds.

》WRIOTHESLEY

Seeing you, an older you, stand there with the traveler and Paimon whilst he went to greet you both, made him nearly consider turning around and leaving at once. He never confronted your death, mainly to protect his strength and what was left of his sanity after he lost you. He never spoke of you either anymore, going as far as forbidding anyone to ever mention it, too.

He just couldn't stand it, having become so awfully bitter over time, and it only worsened at the sight of this alternate version. His jaw clenched, and he had to take a deep breath to quell his confused temper. Why did he feel so angry? Was it the regret and grief of never being to actually see the real you this way? Shouldn't he be glad that he had seen a glimpse of you as an adult after all? Perhaps his anger stemmed from the realisation of permanent loss. You weren't his child, despite the similarities.

It makes him become alot harsher to you three and the Hearth children that were lurking in the shadows. Whilst he may have been more merciful beforehand, he just wanted you all out already. He wanted to return to the peace he had made with the darkness in his heart. If it wasn't for Sigewinne telling him to focus on the plan at hand, he would've perhaps lost it entirely a while ago.

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nieceeee · 1 year ago

Text

“SOUNDS OF FRIENDSHIP”

PS: Bestfriend!ony always sneaks and checks on you every night as a part of his nighttime routine. But this one night, Ony hears something he definitely shouldn’t have. Yet, he can’t seem to pull himself away.

WC: 3.1K

A/N: This has been one of my favorite plots to write lol. Im sorry Onybunny but I had to do it to you baby, NSFW, toy mentioned, suggestive, masturbation, little freaky stuff, Sneaking, Ony creeping through the dark lol.

Tag list: @iloveblogging2 @kritetakes @marshallowy @laylasbunbunny

After getting out the shower Ony tosses on a pair of gray sweatpants and slips his feet into an old pair of house shoes. The steam from the shower seeped into his bedroom, thickening the humidity in the air. Tendrils of smoke fluttered off his smooth brown skin, his body lingering with the warm from the water even after he had stepped out.

He rolled his neck stretching it out, the tightness still there from the workout he had earlier. Ony slipped out of his room door to start his nightly routine. He crept through the darkness, checking the seals on the windows and making sure everything was locked down. Although nothing had ever happened at home, he always did it to ensure both of your safety. Over time, it because engrained in his mind to do everyday. The house was quiet, the cool air whipping gently around his, cooling his still open pores. An unexpected shiver ran down his body. He turned the corner to check the air conditioner. “65?!” He whispered to himself. He should be used to the temperature by now considering how long you’ve lived together but it still shocked him every time he looked at it.

Ony shook his head and kept walking towards the living room. He wrapped around the couch in the living room and walked towards the front door. Checking to make sure both locks were secured, Ony made his way down the hallway and took a right towards your door. The closer he got to your room, the softer his footsteps became. You didn't know but he always took time to check on you every night. Ony knew about your past and the nightmares that plagued you some nights. So he always swept by your door to make sure you were resting. He pressed his body flat against the wall and side stepped until he was right next to your door. The last thing he wanted to do was wake you up out of your sleep. Last time he made that mistake, he was explaining to his brothers where his black eye came from.

Ony slowed his pace and calmed his breathing. His footsteps were as light as feathers as he reached the crack in the wall where your door was. He listened in the darkness for any signs of crying or panic in your voice. There was only one noise coming from inside, a low thrumming sound. Ony’s brows furrowed together and he hesitantly inched closer. He’d done this many times before and he’s never heard this before. He had memorized every sound in your room from the way the air blew to the sound your fan made as it spun. Am I hearing things he thought to himself. He tilted his head closer and remained quiet, holding his position in the shadows. The sound was consistent, there was no break in between it. Just a gentle low paced humming. Ony blinked a few times and began to move back slowly. As he shifted his both to begin to slip out, a noise caused him to pause. The humming as still there but he heard it clear as day. A small whimper. Ony’s heart began to race in his chest.

Because from the other side of the door, a soft moan crept from your lips. Ony held his position unable to move, unable to breath. He didn't hear that. He’s tired. His mind is playing tricks on him. But it happened again, another sweet low moan echoes in your room, creeping underneath the door, gliding across the carpet, and snaking up to his ears. Ony was shell shocked. Because as he stood in the hall, body pressed against the cream paint in the apartment, he heard the sounds of you, his best friend. And on the other side of the door, unaware of his presence, your back pressed into your bed and legs spread on each side, you drug your vibrator across your already swollen bud of nerves between your legs. Your chest rising and falling rapidly, you release another small cry into the darkness.

You had been wound up all day and were desperate to get home for release. The workout you and Ony had to endure did nothing to curve the sensation you were craving. And unlucky for you, seeing your best friend shirtless, body sweaty and muscles bulging didn't help you at all. You weren’t attracted to Ony in that way you told yourself. You and him had been friends for years. Your relationship was platonic, borderline suggestive to anyone who didn't know you both but you’ve always been just friends. But you weren’t blind. You couldn’t help but admit that your best friend had always been cute. But as you both grew up, Ony lost the boyish charm and developed into a full grown man. So eyeing your 6’0, dark skin bestie with the body of a god did absolutely nothing but cause you more problems.

Granted you could’ve called up one of your options, it wasn't unlike you to have them. But you and Ony had a rule, no sex in the apartment that you shared. Your home was your safe space, and with your past, both of you agreed to the rule with no hesitation and you didn't feel like driving anywhere at what you endured today. So instead you opted in to staying at home and pleasing yourself. Which lead you to here, with your handheld pressing deeper into your walls as you worked yourself closer and closer to your climax. Except today absolutely hated you because every time you inched closer, you lost the spot and had to start over.

You had been going at it way longer than you expected and were teetering on the edge. You needed to do something. Something to relax yourself. So you shifted your hips, pressed further back into the bed and closed your eyes. Increasing the speed on the vibrator, you took deep breaths and let your mind wander. Images of peace fluttered through your mind as you willed your body to relax. You stopped holding your moans, allowing all your muscles to relax as you imagines intimacy, trying to coax your body to it's release. Your mind thought of your ex, how well he would fuck you. The way he would pound into you with no remorse. Your side piece and the way his tongue worked you over and over. Then your mind shifted to hands. Thick hands rubbing up your sides, fingers gently gripping your hips. It envisioned full two toned lips pressing gentle kisses down your neck and towards your breasts. Perfectly sculpted arms gripping your legs and pushing them back towards you. Your mind imagined it, though you’ve never seen it, your mind still conjured up the image of his girth pressing into you, the delicious stretch it would provide as he hit your spot. Your mind plagued with images of him, of the familiar scent of cedar wood and absinthe, his velvety voice coating your ear drums as he whispers sweet nothings to you, begging you to call out to him. So you did. You knew it was wrong. Your mind was playing dirty tricks on you as it made you force it out. Made you call out to the one person you knew you couldn’t have.

“Ony”

His heart pounded in his eardrums. Ony couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Because as he stood outside your door, the sound of his name fell from your lips. His eyes widened searching the darkness. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real. He tried to rationalize with himself. But again your voice called out to him as your moans followed, increasing in speed and volume. You repeated it over and over and over again until your body shook. Muscles clenching around the toy, he heard you cry out as you worked the orgasm from your body. You released…while calling his name.

It was a joke. It had to be a joke. There was no way that you would do that. Ony assured himself. He nodded and waited. You must’ve heard him outside the door and decided to play tricks with him, pretending to call his name and accuse him of snooping outside your door. So he waited. He held his breath and waited for you to come out of the door and laugh at him for falling for your game.

But you never came out.

Instead there was a slur of “fucks” that crept underneath the door instead. There was shuffling, your feet hitting the floor. The thrumming sound stopped and the only other thing he heard was the closing of your bathroom door and the creaking of the knobs of your shower as your rushed to clean yourself up.

If his heart beat any harder it would jump out of his chest and run away from him, leaving nothing but a wide eyed, mouth agaped corpse behind. Because realization dawned on his features at the fact that this wasn't a joke. This wasn't another game you decided to play. You called out to him as you came. In one of the most intense moments, your mind imagined him. Your body wanted…him.

Ony waited a few more moments, willing himself to come back from the comatose state he was in. He crept back to his room, pace quicker than before. He made sure he was far away enough before he rushed towards his hallway and closed the door to his room, locking himself inside. His mind began to race.

You said his name. Why would you say his name? Is this the first time you said it? HOW MANY TIMES HAS THIS HAPPENED?

Ony was absolutely spiraling and every moment you have ever shared together played through his head. Every time you held hands or hugged each other. How smooth your smaller hands felt in his as your nimble fingers intertwined with his larger ones. Nights were you slept in his bed and the warmth of your body against his, the smell of lilacs and honey lingering on his pillow from your shampoo. You stealing all his clothes and the way the cotton fabric brushed right against the underside of your ass, hanging between your thighs when you sat down. The first kiss you shared when you were 12 because you wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing. The way your lips felt against his. The taste of your cherry bomb lipgloss coming back to his senses.

His thoughts were shifting into a very unfamiliar territory. Ony didn't think about you like that. You were his best friend. You’ve been that way since you both were 6 years old. You were always the one by his side, picking at him and making him laugh. Sure one or two thoughts about building something more had come to his mind but neither of you cared to push it further so you remained friends. But this was new territory. This was unspoken territory. Ony paced his room, thumb pressed to his lips as his teeth bit into his nail. He couldn’t do that to you. He couldn’t think about you like that. It was wrong.

So why the fuck was he hard right now…

Ony couldn’t lie about what he was feeling in this moment. He wouldn't admit it out loud because that was wrong. It was wrong to think about how soft you would feel underneath him. It was wrong to imagine what you face looked like when you came, how you thick hair fell across your pillow and your back arched into him. It was wrong of him to imagine the way you would squirm underneath him and his dick pushed into your cervix and his lips trailed from your toes down to the gold anklet he bought you for your birthday. It was definitely wrong for him to imagine the way you would cream against him as his hand wrapped gently around your neck and the other held your hips still so you couldn’t run from him. It was wrong of him to imagine the nail sets he always pays for scraping down his spine as he fucked tears from your eyes. The way your beautiful brown eyes would widen as he made you look at him while you cum because he knew it would break you. It was so fucking wrong.

But his dick couldn’t tell the difference.

Ony shook his head trying to clear his mind of those thoughts but it did nothing. Heat rose through his body as he quickly made his way to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and undresses before stepping inside. The icy temperature stung against his warm skin as he tried to drown the thoughts away. But as he stood there underneath the shower head, the only thing he could imagine was the fact that you had just gotten into the shower yourself. And his mind crafted images of you naked, body glistening in the water. Ony never cared for shower sex but he imagined it with you. He wondered what you thought about him. What was it about him that drove you over the edge. What turned you on? Did you taste as good as you always smelled? He imagined his tongue running up and down your core as he held you up by your thighs, your back presses against the shower wall.

A low groan released from his throat, the cold water doing nothing for him as the sounds of your moans replayed like the melodic notes of symphony, caressing his ears. Ony closed his eyes, head tilted back against the shower. “Fuck.” He let out, his body betraying him. His thick hands sliding down his body to offer himself some much needed release.

How the fuck was he supposed to face you in the morning…

#ony x black reader #smut #aot x y/n #aot x reader #fem!reader #aot x black reader #black writers #onyankopon smut #aot onyankopon #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankapon #aot fic #melovehimsomuch #nieceenotes

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hard-core-super-star · 4 days ago

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if you're weak, come to me [wandanat]

pairing: top!natasha romanoff x bottom!wanda maximoff

summary: wanda gets injured during a mission and natasha is TOTALLY fine with that (not). they seek each other's comfort in the only way they know how.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT -> porn with so many feelings and a dash of plot; mentions of dom/sub dynamics; natasha has so many feelings and no way of verbalizing them; wanda's brattiness is implied; fingering {wanda receiving}; flirty banter; begging; teasing; so many kisses; non-fatal injuries; mentions of blood; not mentioned but this takes place somewhere between age of ultron and civil war

wordcount: 3.6k

a/n: so...this week has been a LOT, i have many thoughts but they're all scattered and filled with rage so i'll save them for another time. the U.S election results have left me feeling both incredibly hopeless and numb and to counteract the heaviness of the moment, i decided to finish this fic instead of spiraling or doomscrolling. easier said than done but it's fine. thank you so much to the lovely person who commissioned this, i had a great time writing for this paring. i still don't feel super confident about my characterization of natasha but it's getting there 😅 anyway, enough rambling, i'm sending you guys all my love and support, my askbox is always open <3

* * * * * * *

No one said being an Avenger was easy.

Outside of the long hours, and the possibility of the world ending every other day, there were the unmeasurable amounts of guilt and regret and worry that seemed to plague each and every one of them. They could probably keep a whole building of therapists employed with the amount of trauma they carried.

Everyone at the compound was well aware of their personal situations, but no two felt it as strongly as Natasha and Wanda. There was no denying how well they worked together, how easy their chemistry was, the way they knew exactly what to do to stop each other from spiraling when they needed it most.

Unfortunately, there were moments where their worries clashed together and left them feeling worse than usual.

Moments like today.

Wanda had been chosen to go on a mission without Natasha and the widow had managed to threaten just about everyone she could think of until she was able to go with her girlfriend.

It all would have been fine had the witch not been incredibly annoyed by what she felt to be an overreaction. Even that would have been fine if they hadn't ended up going on the mission while they were still upset with each other.

They weren't mad enough to not worry about each other, but they still chose to go separate ways and focus on getting different things done. Something that would have been fine had Wanda not been ambushed by far too many enemy agents at once.

Steve had been the closest one to the witch and had managed to get there before things turned too sour. Unfortunately, that had been enough to make the Widow spiral. She'd heard her girlfriend request backup in that shaky voice that gave away her fear and she'd been unable to do anything about it.

If Steve had taken any longer to get to Wanda...she didn't want to think about what could have happened. She couldn't think about it.

And yet it was the only thing on her mind on the way home.

The mission had been successful, but she still felt like a failure. Like somehow, despite how inaccurate of an assessment it was, it had all been her fault. If she hadn't allowed her ego to get the better of her, she would have been there. She would have been able to help her girlfriend before she got hurt.

The witch wasn't mortally wounded in any way, but that didn't matter to her.

Wanda, for her part, felt fine. Sure, she was sore and in pain and bleeding, but she was an Avenger, getting hurt came with the territory.

It became obvious to her that her girlfriend didn't feel the same way as her when the redhead decided to ignore her on the way home. The Quinjet was small, and yet the distance between them felt massive.

It wasn't like her to sneak into people's minds without permission, but this was different. This was Natasha, and her concern for her outweighed most of her guilt around using her powers around her.

Maybe it was a bad idea, but she did it anyway, and it allowed her to see the pain her girlfriend was carrying on her shoulders. It pained her to know Natasha was blaming herself. That she didn't believe she was worth all the love the younger woman had for her.

There wasn't an easy solution to that kind of guilt, but Wanda would be dammed if she allowed her girlfriend to continue to suffer in silence.

The second they landed back at the Compound, Natasha made her way to the witch's side. There was an unreadable expression on her face as she looked her lover over and she silently extended her hand out for her.

Wanda wasted no time in accepting her help.

They made their way to their shared room, holding onto each other a little tighter than necessary. Neither of them commented on it, though, they needed the physical contact more than they were willing to admit out loud.

The silence between them bordered on awkward, but they didn't even attempt to break it. They needed to have a long conversation and it needed to happen away from prying eyes and ears.

After a tense walk, they managed to make it inside their room, and Natasha instantly set the younger woman down on the bed. "Do you need to change your bandages?"

The mention of the badly wrapped bandages made Wanda chuckle despite herself. She wasn't sure whose idea it was to go on a mission without Dr. Banner who, despite how awkward he could be about it, always did a great job at patching them up when they were hurt. Sure, it wasn't his area of expertise, but he was much better at it than Steve.

"No, I'm okay," she replied, not aware of the effect her words were going to have on her girlfriend.

The Widow let out a loud scoff. "Oh, you're okay? You were stabbed and shot at but you're okay?"

"'Tasha-"

"Don't." Her tone left no room for arguing. "You're hurt, I'm allowed to be pissed off about it."

"I never said you couldn't be upset," Wanda muttered in response. "But that doesn't change the fact that I'm fine."

It was a shitty argument, but it was the best she could do given the circumstance. There was no way to win out over Natasha's stubbornness, so the only thing she could do was hope her words would eventually get through to her. That seeing her so sure that everything was fine would bring her out of the spiral she was stuck in.

The only response the Widow gave was a long sigh, her eyes betraying the true weight of her feelings.

Her hand reached out before she could stop it, and Wanda met her halfway, leaning into her touch with a small smile.

Natasha's fingers trailed across the witch's jawline as her eyes took in every little scrape that painted her delicate features. A part of her knew she was overreacting. That they're safe and sound and Wanda's injuries will heal in no time.

And yet, it was impossible to stop desperation from building within her. The worries that threatened to swallow her whole if she allowed herself to think about things too much.

"'Tasha." Wanda's voice was barely above a whisper as she tried to get through to her lover one more time. "I'm okay."

"You were hurt."

"I've been through worse."

The words were meant to be reassuring, but they had the opposite effect. If anything, they made Natasha feel more helpless. Like despite all her skills, all her knowledge, all her training, she'll never be able to keep her lover safe.

She'll never be enough.

"Stop that, you're more than enough."

Her eyebrow raised involuntarily in response. "Get out of my mind, little witch."

"Hey! It's not my fault your thoughts are so loud."

Despite the heaviness that still lingered within her, a chuckle managed to escape past her lips. In an instant, she leaned forward to press a quick kiss to Wanda's pouting lips.

It amazed her how soft the witch could be after all the pain and violence she grew up in.

More than that, it amazed her how quickly her mood was able to shift when she was with the younger woman. How easy it was for her fears to disappear when they were together.

A soft smile was written across her features when she pulled away from her lover, her eyes a mirror that reflected the affection that was clear in the witch's eyes.

"Let me fix you up, detka." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but there was no denying the weight behind her words. "I promise I'll be quick."

Wanda couldn't help but shift nervously in response. It wasn't like she didn't trust Natasha, of course she trusted the redhead, but she knew how she could get. How easy it was for her to get caught up seeing monsters instead of shadows.

"I...are you sure? My bandages should be okay for a few hours."

"Not with the way Steve wrapped them," Natasha replied with a hint of humor in her tone.

The humor wasn't enough to mask her worry, and yet Wanda felt herself relaxing a little. If it helped her girlfriend feel better, she had no complaints about allowing her to clean her wounds up a little.

"Okay."

It was a single word that conveyed the trust she held in the redhead.

Wanda shifted back on the bed until she was laying down with her head resting on their pillows. She'd been in this position many times before, but this was different. There was an edge of vulnerability that clung to the air between them, a need for reassurance that neither of them could verbalize.

Natasha moved closer, not quite settling between the witch's legs, simply coming close enough to reach for her shirt. Her hands shook slightly as she lifted her girlfriend's shirt, her eyes taking in every inch of smooth skin that was revealed to her. Her heart ached in her chest as she examined each and every one of the cuts and bruises that littered her torso.

"I promise I'm okay," Wanda whispered, noticing her girlfriend's hesitation.

"I believe you."

Still, her head ducked down until her lips met the skin that had been revealed to her.

The gasp that escaped past the younger woman's lips made her smile. She still didn't feel completely okay but the helplessness that had settled in her chest was slowly easing away.

Her lips traced every inch of battered skin they could reach, her hands pushing the fabric up and over Wanda's head. With her shirt out of the way, she was able to fully look over the bandages wrapped around her girlfriend's injuries. They didn't look as bad as she had expected them to and she subconciously let out a sigh of relief.

It didn't matter how many times she was reassured that the younger woman was fine, she needed to see it with her own eyes. To realize she wasn't bleeding out, there was no bullet lodged inside her, no sharp knife sticking out of her. She was fine.

She was safe.

And she was already arching her back in the way that made the Widow lose all of her control.

It wasn't about the pleasure, though. They both knew that. It was about comfort.

About being there for each other in the only way that was able cut through their anxieties. Maybe it was wrong to have to rely on the physical to get rid of the mental strain they were always under, but it made sense to them. More than that, it worked.

Because as much as they trusted and loved each other, being vulnerable wasn't something that came easy to them. Especially not after a mission when their fight or flight insticts were still on.

"I'm here," Natasha mumbled, shifting until she was hovering over her girlfriend. "I'm right here, Wands."

The words brought a beautiful smile to the witch's face. "I know...but you're still too far."

Wanda managed to work up enough courage to wrap her arms around Natasha's neck. She tried to keep her grip loose, just in case the Widow wasn't ready for too much physical contact.

"Patience," she replied. "I'm in the middle of something here. I still haven't cleaned you up."

The witch couldn't help but roll her eyes at that. The last thing on her mind right was her injuries. She felt fine. More than that, she felt weirdly needy and she needed her girlfriend's lips in a completely different spot.

She knew complaining probably wouldn't get her very far, but she couldn't help it. Maybe some light playfulness would help Natasha feel better.

"Come on, 'Tasha, that can wait. I need you right now."

The redhead paused for a second, green eyes focused intently on Wanda's face. She thought things over for a second, silently analyzing the situation in front of her. Her girlfriend seemed fine. All that seemed to linger were her wounds but not the pain they had initially brought.

It was irresponsible, she knew that much, but how was she supposed to deny her beautiful lover?

"How are you always so needy?" She replied, her soft smile growing just a tad bit teasing. "Don't tell me I've spoiled you too much."

"Maybe you have." Wanda shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"I beg to differ."

Natasha leaned down to capture the witch's lips again. This time, there was a little less softness to the contact and a little more urgency. And a lot of unrestrained desperation neither of them knew what to do with.

One kiss turned into two which turned into Wanda digging her nails into Natasha's shoulders while her hips bucked involuntarily. The Widow's thigh was too far to provide the witch with any real friction and yet it only made everything feel ten times more intense. An intensity that always seemed to catch up to them when they were together in such a way.

"Nat..." Wanda groaned, head tilting back in both pleasure and desperation.

"I know." Despite the teasing edge to her response, there was nothing but affection in her tone. Nothing but devotion for her lover. "What did I say about patience?"

One of Natasha's hands made its way between their bodies, her fingers tracing a path she knew by memory. The witch didn't seem to be in the mood for much teasing but she couldn't help it. There was something so exciting about turning her girlfriend into a desperate mess.

She knew, on some level, where it came from. That Wanda needed to be taken care of just as badly as she needed to be in control. They were on opposite ends of the same spectrum.

The witch arched her back in an attempt to push her chest further into Natasha's hand, a quiet moan leaving her lips as she teased her hardned nipples. "Stop teasing."

"I've barely started, detka. Don't tell me you already can't handle it?"

"You're so mean."

"You like it."

Wanda didn't have any time to refute that claim because right when she opened her mouth to speak, the redhead decided to finally give in to what her body needed.

"I oh-" The witch's body shuddered as Natasha's hand moved down, slidding into her tight pants and cupping her wet heat. The fabric of her underwear was still in the way, but neither of them cared too much about the obstruction.

Matching moans left their lips as the Widow found the wet spot staining the younger woman's underwear, her fingers moving over the soaked fabric with renowed purpose.

"What was that?" Natasha teased. "Were you going to say something?"

Her girlfriend's tone had Wanda clenching around pure air, her hips bucking involuntarily in search of more friction. "N-no."

"Are you sure? I can stop if you need me to."

"Fuck no. Don't stop...please."

"Good girl."

The praise sent shivers down Wanda's spine and effectively turned all her thoughts to pure mush. It should have been embarrassing how quickly she fell apart for her lover and yet all she could feel was pleasure. And maybe a little pride at how fast she managed to make Natasha give in to what she wanted.

That sort of pride was mutual, though, and it caused desire to thrum in their veins. Desire for what? That wasn't as easy to figure out. Thankfully, they had nothing but time to try.

Natasha quickly grew tired of teasing her girlfriend. Not because she didn't want to keep doing it (she really really did), but because she could tell she needed more. And after the day they'd had, she wasn't sure she'd be able to deny the witch anything.

Her fingers slid inside Wanda's ruined underwear, relishing the loud gasp that escaped the younger woman when she brushed against her clit. The witch was always sensitive, and today was no exception. It made these kinds of moments all the more exciting for her.

"Oh, fuck." Wanda's voice came out more like a whine than anything else. "Please."

"Please what?" She responded, leaning down to trail kisses down the witch's jawline. "Use your words like a good girl."

The only response she could form for a few seconds was another whine. Natasha always knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say, to help her sink down into that fuzzy, submissive headspace she was slowly getting used to. They hadn't done much exploring, too busy with never-ending missions to safely allow the witch to slip, but the safe experimentation they'd done had taught them both more than enough.

Mainly, it taught them how much they both thrive in that type of scenario. How much they depend on each other, on and off the battlefield.

"Don't stop," Wanda begged, feeling her hesitation fade away with every second that went by. "Touch me, fuck me, anything, please."

If Natasha was in a crueler mood, she would have taken her time to tease the younger woman. To play with her until she was a writhing, whimpering mess beneath her.

As fun as that sounded, she wasn't in the mood for that today. She wanted to let go. To help Wanda let go until all that was left was the two of them, locked together, in the sanctuary of their room.

"That's my girl." Her words were accompanied by the movement of her fingers. They slid through Wanda's slick folds before slowly easing in to her cunt. "Fuck, you're soaked for me, detka."

The witch was more than wet enough to take Natasha's fingers but the Widow still took her time, working two fingers inside and diligently watching her lover's face contort with pleasure. The way her walls fluttered around her was intoxicating, drawing the digits in deeper and practically begging her to stay buried inside her.

She moved slowly. Not because she wanted to tease but because she wanted to draw out the sensations. To overwhelm Wanda with the devotion she couldn't properly express most days.

To be fair, it didn't seem like the younger woman minded. They were both broken, albeit in different ways, and they seemed to understand eachother without words. It was the most comforting thing either of them had ever known.

But God, she was so afraid of losing this. Of losing the one good thing she had. The one person who didn't see her as the Black Widow or a S.H.I.E.L.D. product. To Wanda, she was simply 'Tasha and it meant far more to her than anything else.

It wasn't hard for Wanda to realize the change in her girlfriend's thoughts. The sudden change in her breathing, the glosiness that overtook her eyes. She knew exactly what it meant and she knew she had to do something before the redhead started drowning in her thoughts.

So, she did the only thing she could think of right now. Mainly because thinking was getting difficult and it wasn't like she could move around too much with the Widow's fingers buried in her pussy.

Her hands moved to Natasha's face, cuping her cheeks and bringing her closer until their lips met once again. The kiss was a stark contrast to the movements of the redhead's fingers, but neither of them seemed to care.

All they cared about was being together.

Wanda pulled away first, her panting breaths turning into whimpering gasps. The coil in her stomach was about ready to snap, her hips bucking desperately into the readhead's hand. "Nat- I can't, I need-"

"What do you need, detka?" She asked, even though she already knew the answer. She couldn't help it, she loved the way the witch's eyebrows furrowed in frustration when she interrupted her just to tease her.

"Need to cum, please-" Her words turned into a moan when Natasha's thumb found her swollen clit. "Please, can I cum?"

The desperation in her girlfriend's voice made the redhead smile proudly. It was hard to think about her fears when she had the witch like this. Completely and utterly under her spell.

"Of course," she replied, speeding up the thrusts of her fingers in an attempt to bring Wanda even closer to falling apart. "Come on, be a good girl and cum for me."

The witch felt overwhelmed in the best way. All she could think about, all she could feel, was Natasha. Her words, her hands, the pleasure only she was able to bring her. It was all too much yet it felt so good.

Her walls clenched around the Widow's fingers as she lost control of herself, giving in to the pleasure and letting everything else fade away. All it took was a few sharp thrusts of Natasha's fingers before she was moaning her lover's name, her eyes squeezing shut while she rode the waves of pleasure that crashed into her.

The redhead worked her through her orgasm, making sure to slow down a little to avoid overstimulating the younger woman. She leaned down to pepper kisses across each and every inch of Wanda's neck to help ground her a little more.

Neither of them were sure how much time went by before Wanda was able to open her eyes again, but when she finally did, the large, slightly goofy, smile on her face instantly gave away how she was feeling.

Still, Natasha asked anyway.

"You okay?"

"Hmmm, yeah."

The Widow chuckled, her heart practically bursting out of her chest at the sight of Wanda so happy and relaxed. It was a sight that never failed to make her feel better, no matter how shitty her day had been before.

"Good." She placed a few extra kisses across Wanda's face before shifting further down her body. "Because we're not done yet."

Natasha was talking about the remaining injuries she hadn't taken a look at yet but if they got up to other things too...well, she wouldn't complain about that.

#wandanat #wandanat smut #wandanat fic #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #avengers fanfiction #marvel fic #mcu imagine #wlw fic #writing

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astrumark · 1 year ago

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── GIVE ME THAT LITTLE BIT OF SATISFACTION ★.

PAIRING: aemond targaryen x female reader.

SUMMARY: aemond needs your assistance after a battle, in more ways than one.

WARNINGS: blood, curse words, smut with plot, use of coconut oil as lube, hand-job, p in v, tits sucking, multiple orgasms, creampie, a hint of sub aemond? oops? :3

WC: 5.3K

NOTES: obviously this is my take on what happened after rook's rest. the show's approach next year will definitely be different. but it's fun working with the book's events and its lack of minor details (you can fill it in however you wish!).

Your eyes flutter open with a jump, a firm hand gripping your shoulder. You didn't remember when you had fallen asleep, or what hour it was, but certainly wasn't the time for your shift yet. It takes a few seconds for your cloudy vision to focus on where you were, now noticing the older servant in front of you, and you look at her dazedly.

"The prince has just arrived, and requests your presence," Annabel explains.

Aemond. Immediate relief washes over you as your face softens. "Very well."

You leave the servants' quarters as fast as you can after fixing your appearance, and as you walk through the halls, you notice the castle is way too agitated. Tension and seriousness ripple in the air, and you start to feel uneasy as well, mind fumbling with numberless possibilities.

It's one of the gold cloaks that finally speaks a little louder, talking fervently about the victory of the greens at the battle of Rook's Rest. It had been quite a few days since their army had marched, and news was often shared about their progression. Usually, you tend to avoid it, since most of it makes you feel sick in your stomach.

Besides the armored man, there is no more commemoration or sense of victory. Not on this side of the castle, at least. Lords were probably planning on throwing banquets, but people like you are too aware of the damages of the war, and how at the end of the day the smallfolk suffer the most. Countless common people would die in the name of greedy royalty that know no limits to their ambition, families ruined beyond repair, a ravaging hunger was plaguing the poorest, and the coffers would soon be emptied, money being spent on battles other than improving the realm and making life easier. It's obvious how no good could ever come regardless of the result of the war.

You find Annabel again, shouting order after order, the middle-aged woman was the one in charge of the servants for a good while now and was a reliable source of information.

"What happened?" You approach her.

"A lot happened, child." Her tone is somber.

"Did someone die?" What a foolish question. Not just someone, but hundreds.

"The queen who never was and her dragon."

You grimace, reminiscing about the princess back when she was visiting the Red Keep. Although such casualties are expected during the war, it is still difficult to grasp that the imposing woman is dead. It's fearful how one's life could be ripped from them so suddenly. A paralyzing concern floods you. Aemond being back does not mean he is unharmed.

"Has the prince been hurt?" Your voice falters, your heart pounding with fear.

Annabel's gaze flickers to your face, and you could see her disapproval, almost making you wish to recoil. But she would never say a thing about your unusual closeness with the prince, being unlike her to intrude in personal affairs. You are aware she doesn't like Aemond or any of the royals, but then again very few did. You have grown to understand it was not only because of his eye, or lack thereof, but because he simply did not inspire sympathy. Aemond is stoic, defensive, and difficult to relate to. You were only one of the very few lucky enough to know better.

"The prince is fine," Annabel says and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "However, it is said the king is in critical condition, it is not known if he will recover, and his dragon is unable to fly, one of his wings was damaged during the fight."

You gasp, in your slumber you have forgotten about the man, not being concerned about him in the slightest. Anyhow, you feel your mind almost melting as you process the shocking news and the aftermath of it. If the king were to perish, that means Aemond would be regent until his nephew is of ideal age. Seven. "Poor Sunfyre."

Annabel tries to scold you, but the amusement behind her blue eyes is hard to conceal. "You are pitying the dragon, not the king?"

"Well, people have the free will of choice, and are aware of the consequences their actions might have… a dragon can only obey their rider's command, isn't it right?"

"We cannot say. These magical creatures are beyond our comprehension."

You ponder. "That is true."

After the quick conversation, you make your way to one of the huge kitchens, assuming the prince would probably fancy a bath. Warming up buckets of water, you carry them to Maegor's Holdfast with the help of three other servants.

A strong smell of blood and smoke fills your nose as you enter his quarters, and your eyes widen. The expensive rug is stained and marked by large boots, and even more astounding is the prince's appearance.

Aemond is lounging on a chair close to his study table. His face and hair are covered by blood, ash, and dirt, and splatters of dried blood stains his black and gold armor. His braids are loose, and you can even notice some twigs tangled in his silver strands. However, the prince's hands are the most distressing, gloves discarded at some point and almost fully covered by the red liquid. With a frown, you deduce it must be from his brother's injury. He looks haunting, almighty, and ruthless. There's a scowl on his face, though his eyes seem perturbed.

You notice how the servants' hands seem to tremble slightly as they pour the water into the bathtub in the next room, their eyes never daring to look up while adding some essential oils and chamomile herbs to the water as well, however, you cannot share their fear. All you wish to do is reach out and comfort him. Leaving one of the buckets outside the bathroom, you can see from the corner of your eyes the one-eyed man dismissing the other servants with a wave of a hand, and they seem eager to oblige. You kneel in front of him.

"I am glad you are well," You squeeze his knees. "And tremendously sorry for your brother."

Aemond does not respond, and his gaze is piercing as he stares at you as if memorizing each detail of your face. You don't look away either, a comfortable but powerful silence pairing between the two of you. His fingers slowly graze your cheek, and you do not mind the blood, eyes closing with the delicate caress.

"Help me undress, will you?"

You nod, aware he was never one to talk in deep about his emotions and thoughts, to allow himself to be vulnerable. Nonetheless, you've been noticing this quietness getting worse ever since Storm's End, and although concerned, you would not push him. Especially because you weren't even aware of the extent of your relationship. That he has a certain tenderness for you is clear, but the amount of liberties you could take with the royal is not as much.

Carefully undoing his heavy armor, the pieces fall to the ground with a whump, and the clothes underneath are a lot easier to deal with. His defined body slowly comes into view, a few goosebumps arising on his bare skin with the sudden lack of materials. Aemond's nakedness is of no surprise to you, though you could never help but admire him. Grabbing a cloth you wet it in the bucket nearby and start to clean his face first, hoping to get rid of the thicker layers of dirt before starting the bath.

Your touch is light, afraid to harshly rub any scratches, big or small. "Are you hurt in any way?"

Aemond shakes his head. "None of the blood is mine," He says. "It's from the princess and my brother, and their dragons. I believe some from Lord Staunton and his garrison as well."

You shudder with discomfort and drift your attention to cleaning his hands, the cloth immediately being painted red, you discard it for another as you move to the other hand. You've always enjoyed tending to him.

His hair comes next, and you take off his eyepatch. Undoing the braids is quick, long accustomed to it, though his strands are now sticking and smelling terribly, like a pan that spent too much time on fire, simply nose scrunching and suffocating. Aemond moves his head side to side with a growl after you are done, the bones of his neck cracking.

The prince sighs pleasantly as he enters the tub, and you grab a bowl to wet his hair. The silver strands get soaped quickly as you massage his scalp with both hands, his good eye close, and the sapphire twinkles.

After washing it, you fetch another soap bar, one that the merchant guaranteed you was special, something about adding more oils while making it. There was no harm in trying, and you were surprised by how such a thing made his hair healthier, not as dry which means fewer cuts, and more tamed and lustrous. His strands instantly become more emollient as you run the soap along the length.

Aemond seems completely unbothered as you get to scrub his body, the fine hairs covering his arms and legs so light it's barely visible. It's, in fact, a moment of relaxation and customariness, a routine for both of you. But the water is already dirty and gray by now, and you cannot help but recall it's not only ashes and dirt but also the mixed blood of people and beasts alike. Some perished.

You do not notice the silver-haired staring at you until he speaks. "You do not seem very pleased."

You raise your eyebrows. "Is there something to be pleased about?"

"Is there not?" He squints his eye. "We have just won a battle."

"Congratulations."

"Your sincerity is appreciated." His voice is dripping with sarcasm. "You know you can speak freely with me." He studies your face.

You bite your lips, focusing on the task at hand and adding more soap to the scrubber. The prince would never understand your point, so you would rather avoid a useless discussion. Especially today.

Unfortunately, he doesn't give up, cocking his head. "What is restraining you from doing so? Are you disgusted? Would you prefer me to not have killed all those cunty traitors?" His voice is low, dangerous. "Would you prefer to have that whore sitting on the throne? Is that the reason for your unpleasantness? Do you believe she's more suitable than my brother? Than me?"

You look at him sternly, the scrubber falling to the water with a splash. His face is now a lot closer to yours, but he does not intimidate you, never did, and probably never will. But he hits a nerve, and your mouth moves even before you could notice you were speaking.

"I would prefer your family to resolve the succession issue in another way other than submitting the kingdom to a devastating war with horrendous consequences, for all of you certainly, as proved by your nephew's death and older brother's injury now, but mostly, innocent people that have nothing to do with your schemes." Your voice holds a cold rage. "That is my opinion if it's of any importance to you, but I highly doubt it."

Aemond scoffs, shaking his head and averting his eye for a minute. His finger rests on top of his mouth, and there's still blood underneath his nails. He inhales to control his annoyance. He looks like he's going to say something, but then changes his mind, closing his lips and opting for another choice of words.

"You would not understand it, as a commoner." He looks at you up and down, not with the usual desire, but with a hint of superiority now, clear in how the corner of his lips twitches upward dismissively.

You are quick to respond. "Nor would you, as a prince."

Deafening silence. You have a good point, the drastic difference in your backgrounds would never let you completely understand one another's views and priorities. Aemond sighs.

"You are lucky I am fond of you." A truce.

You chuckle. "And I do not dislike you entirely."

The prince smiles, tight-lipped, but it is lovely, showing off his beautiful dimples. The rest of the bath goes calmly as you resume the chore. You wrap his hair in a cotton towel, and his body in a linen one. You leave the prince to dry himself while you make your way to the bedchamber, gathering loose mud green trousers and some shea butter.

The one-eyed stands in his full glory as you spread the product all over his lean body. Back, arms, chest, and stomach, then his legs. When you get up from your kneeling position, his hand wraps around your neck swiftly, bringing your body forward and kissing you.

You return it immediately, deep and eager. However, it's also contemplative and cozy, almost lazy as you taste one another. Your hand rests on his forearm, the softness and warmth of his lips never failing to get you weak on the knees, and he smells great now, fresh. Your eyes seem unable to open as you get lost in the small kisses and teases.

"Do not resent me, beauty." He says as you part.

You smile against his mouth, you thought it was precious when he got like this, clingy in his way. It was only on these rare occasions that he let his pride and loftiness aside, and would do everything to prevent you from being upset with him. Seeking your comfort in such an intense manner it was flattering.

A verbal answer doesn't leave your lips, you just kiss him again, and it's enough. "Get dressed and sit down." You motion to the dressing table, throwing the trousers at him.

You comb his hair delicately, adding some sunflower oil to his scalp before braiding his damp hair, he prefers it this way, claiming it was the only way it wouldn't get tangled up in the morning. You start from his very root, sectioning small amounts of silver hair and crossing them over in between your fingers, slowly but surely creating a beautiful and tight pattern. It's not a fast process, but you delight in it and you suspect so does the man in front of you, almost purring as you work. Tying the end of it, you rub his shoulders affectionately, his skin always warm beneath your palms.

"I am sore," Aemond complains. "A massage would be great."

You grin, pecking his cheek from behind. "As you wish, my Prince."

He is truly very tense, and you cannot fathom how distressing all that he witnessed is. You suppose it was a life-changing experience, in the worst way possible. It was clear how his eye hardened considerably in a short time. You would have surely run to the hills in his place, but he doesn't. He breathes and keeps his composure, hiding away all his fright, pretending to be indifferent, that he accepts his duty and the price of it gladly. But nobody would, less they lacked emotions.

Aemond lays down on his stomach, folding his arms above his head. Grabbing a bottle of coconut oil from the table, you take off your shoes and raise your dress to your knees before crawling on the bed to sit on top of his butt.

His body jolts as you drip a generous amount of oil on his large back, his muscles flexing. His body is so magnificent you could easily imagine a greater force meticulously creating each detail of it. Aemond moans the moment your hands start to caress his lower back. Your first touches are gentle, tracing circles up and down with your fingertips, mapping where you can feel some knots. Your hands move from his sides, to his shoulders, and up to the back of his neck, pinching it slightly.

"Fuck," Aemond grunts, voice muffled by the mattress. "This feels nice."

You add more pressure, stroking his back up and down, and after a few minutes back to tracing firm circles, this time with the heel of your hand. The prince is unable to contain noises of pleasure. Laying one of your hands on top of the other, you start the process of pushing his spine, once again beginning down and going up. A few cracks are heard.

Then, you add gentle pressure with your thumbs on his knots, his grunts are now a little bit more uncomfortable, but it's necessary. After you are done, you softly knead his back up and down, and then start switching between circling and stroking.

Aemond's moans along with the feel of his skin start to alight a desire in you, your lower stomach tingling in a known and annoying manner, womanhood pulsating with each new sound. It doesn't help how your filthy encounters had been becoming less frequent, the prince growing too busy with the war, and often you would feel bothered and insatiable.

It's unconscious the way you start rubbing on him, trying to relieve the ache you feel, and you do not realize what you are doing until he grips your thigh, halting your tentative movements at once.

"Stop teasing." He warns.

You stammer, a bit embarrassed. "I'm not, I–"

Suddenly you are pinned down by the prince, your positions switched as you utter your confusion by the suddenness. You should've been used to his strength and fast reflexes by now. "Do you deem your behavior acceptable?"

You swallow, trying not to smile, and feign innocence. "I have no clue what you are talking about."

"Oh, yes? You are unaware you were rubbing yourself on me like a bitch in heat?"

"I would never do that, my Prince."

"You would never…?" He chuckles, feeling amused.

"During my work? No." You shake your head in denial.

"So, if I touch your cunt right now, you would not be wet?" He cocks his head.

You bite your lips. "Not at all."

"Forgive me for not believing your words, but I shall need proof." Aemond's hand sneaks under your dress, fingers moving slowly from your shin to your thigh, his eye never leaving yours, daring.

You giggle when his finger parts your folds, rubbing the dampness between your legs. You buck your hips, in need of more friction.

"Liar." Aemond disregards with a click of his tongue, his pupil blown out as he circles your bud.

"Aemond." You gasp, eyes closing.

"Do you think you deserve it?"

"Yes, I've been taking care of you so well..." You try to negotiate.

"But I deserve so much more attention, don't you agree?" He kisses and licks your collarbone, finger never faltering, teasing.

"More?" Your breath is labored, and your voice is weak. His hand leaves your heat.

"I have killed a whole other dragon. It is not frequently one can say it. Yes, I believe I am due special treatment." He faces you again.

"I see," You grin. "You want me to do all the work?" Your lips brush his. "Such an idle prince." You provoke.

"Watch your mouth," He warns, pecking you. "I am merely tired. It's been eventful."

"Conveniently for you, I am feeling generous today." Your hands trail his bare waist.

"You are?" He smirks, nose touching yours.

"Uh-huh, and very happy you are unscathed."

"Show me, then," Aemond kisses your jaw. "Just how grateful you are."

The kiss you share is lecherous, wet, and rushed. Aemond does not fight you as you flip your bodies over and climb onto his lap, an evident bulge in the thin trousers that contours all of his cock tantalizingly. Even the clothed friction makes you both shudder, and you gather all of your strength to not start instantly grinding on his shaft.

You pull his trousers down, and his manhood springs free. Big, thick, veiny. Dripping coconut oil on your hands, you rub them together. Aemond wets his lips in anticipation.

Your hand slides through his length with no difficulty with the help of the oil, and the smell of it is delicious. You start jerking him off, and the prince hums in satisfaction.

Aemond wasn't the most vocal in bed, you realized it soon into your affair, but with time you had discovered the exceptions, the things that would make him forget all about his inhibitions and scream in pleasure.

After stroking him for a while, you cup one of your hands, very slowly circling his tip with the palm of your oily hand, fingertips dragging up and down his length while you do so. Aemond breathes sharply, his stomach twitching.

"Seven hells, love." He mutters with a tight hold on the sheets due to his sensitivity. You smile.

You focus on your fingertips, running them up and down his shaft lightly. Aemond adored the delicacy of the movement, the gentle yet torturous pressure, promising and unforgiving, kind and cruel. Then you circle his head again, again, and again. Careful to not hurt him. Aemond grunts, his eyebrows pinching together and face completely flushed as he bites his lips harshly, trying to hold back his moans, but you know it won't last long.

"Stop, it 's too much." He whines, but the delighted sound that escapes his mouth tells you to do anything but, his body trembling.

"Aw," You coo mockingly. "We know you can take it, my Prince."

You add more oil to your hands, holding his length and rotating your wrist as your palm rubs over his tip and shaft over and over. He completely let go as he closes his eye, his grunts being replaced by enchanting high-pitched and broken moans. It's quite pathetic the sight of him, the mighty and fearsome prince so supple on your hands, forehead glistening with sweat and breath erratic. Anyone outside could hear him.

"My love, please." He begs in the middle of whimpers, all of his body hair stirred up.

"Please what, my dear?" You ask innocently.

Aemond squirms. "I need to come," He gasps. "Please, please, please."

"Since you asked so nicely…"

You change the movement, keeping it only on his sensitive head, your other hand squeezing his balls. His voice gets louder, face twisted in pleasure as a tear falls down his gorgeous face, violet iris shining bright. You can feel your cunt soaked and throbbing achingly with the view.

He comes in a silent scream, hips bucking as hot loads of his spend fall into your hand and his shaft. You spread some of it around his length, still jerking him off as you help him ride out of his peak, the prince's body spasming.

"That's it," You praise him. "Good boy."

Aemond's breath is heavy as you find his lips, and he struggles to follow your pace, but he tries anyway, messy and urging. "Now you are going to be even nicer and let me use your cock, won't you?" You whisper.

His eye is lidded as he stares at you and nods, and you cannot resist the urge to press two sticky fingers to his curved lips, Aemond opens his mouth with no resistance, licking your hand clean. He's so compliant, somehow still lost in the void between the extraordinary bliss and the present moment.

"Anything for you." He mutters.

You grin. "That is what I like to hear."

Even if not necessarily frequent, happening mostly when he was worn-out or glum, it was rather obvious how letting someone of your position have control over him in bed, one of the very few situations in which you could be so blunt and disrespectful to a high-born, aroused the prince more than he would ever admit, a time in which he could forget about his obligations and just be good to you.

It doesn't take long into your kissing until you can feel him growing hard again, hands eagerly grabbing the hem of your dark red dress and pulling it up around your waist.

"Stupid dress." He complains in between lustful kisses, struggling to get rid of the clothing.

You laugh and help him take it off, throwing your apron and the dress somewhere around his quarters. Aemond instantly latches onto your right breast once you are fully naked, tongue hot and wet twirling around your nipple, and making you shiver and mewl as he sucks it into his mouth as if he is starved, your hand pulling at his braided hair.

Too impatient and greedy, you push him back on the mattress, positioning his member on your wet and tight entrance before lowering yourself down on it. You both moan at the stretch. It is spellbinding the way he watches you on top of him, making you feel like the most desired person in existence, his hands on your hips tightly.

You feel so full and excited you could almost see stars, the position has always been one of your favorites, his cock being able to reach just the right spots in this way.

"Seven, you feel perfect inside me." You gasp, grinding back and forward, your lungs clenching with the sudden and powerful wave of pleasure, so strong it is maddening.

Aemond growls, his body jolting with the motion. "You are a fucking witch, woman."

"For knowing exactly how to deal with you? I might as well be." You grin viciously, your hands resting on his chest.

Your eyes close as you rock your hips slowly and sensually, strained moans already leaving your mouth, and your bud brushing over his pubic bone makes you tremble. It's doubtless the best sensation you have ever felt, his cock dragging against your walls marvelously.

"Fuck, you fit me so well," You say out of breath, fastening your grinding. "Always so good for me, aren't you?"

You lean over slightly, pressing yourself more to him as you begin to bounce on his cock restlessly, the sinful noises echoing in the chamber only increasing your pleasure.

Aemond whimpers, both by the change of the movement and your words. "Always good for you, my love." He repeats, choking out.

Aemond's hands come to grip your ass desperately, certainly to leave bruises later, but now it's nothing but motivating for you.

He suddenly sits you both up, mouth finding one of your breasts again, saliva coating it as he plays with your nipple with tongue and teeth with no care. The sensitivity makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Delightful yet torturous whimpers on your lips as you continue to ride him mercilessly.

Sweat covers almost all of your body, and you feel as if you were burning from the inside out, the prince not looking any different, his cheeks and nose terribly reddened. You don't even care about the slight throbbing of your legs getting tired, or for the man you were fucking anymore, simply focused on the building of that rapture that feels so close yet so far. Your hold on his shoulders is firm beyond pleasant, but you assume his mind is elsewhere, and not in how your nails are breaking his pale skin.

You needed this badly and you knew you wouldn't last long. The knot inside you tightens hazardously, and you furrow your eyebrows, your bouncing getting even more frenetic. However, as good as it feels, you are growing overwhelmed as you ache for a release that's taking too long to come, somewhat stuck in a sadic joy. You whine out of glee and anticipation, too fucking eager.

"Don't stop, love," Aemond says with a groan, letting go of your breast with a pop to give attention to the other, his sucking sloppy as you pull at his hair harshly. You moan.

Not even in a thousand years you would dare to. When the long-awaited white-hot pleasure slams your body, you feel like ascending to the seven heavens itself. It's astoundingly overpowering at first and then diminishes in ripples as your heart drums painfully inside your chest, cunt fluttering around his member.

Your breath is heavy as you slow down, shivering and a little weary. Aemond moans while watching you come on his cock, and fortunately, he seems disposed to help you as he lays down again, bringing your body flush against his. He seems very roused as he impales you with his cock from beneath, growling into your ears while his hands squeeze your ass possessively.

You whine due to overstimulation, his thrusts are relentless, and the squelching sounds more prominent with how much you soaked his cock not too long ago. You are unsure if you want him to finish already or just keep using your cunt as he wishes regardless of your comfort, and the sheer thought of it inflames you.

It's surprising how fast it comes back, that burning and expectation in your lower stomach, apparently even stronger now. All that was not him and his cock in your womanhood is long forgotten. Blood rushes hot in your veins, high-pitched mewls and low grunts blending.

"By the Seven, Aemond." You hide your face in the crook of his neck, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth.

"Can you give me another one?" Aemond pounds into you harder, the smell of the shea butter and coconut oil from earlier consuming you. "I want to give you another one, beauty. I want to make you feel exceptionally good, yes?"

You try to respond to him but you just babble, teeth biting into the conjecture of his neck and shoulder, painting it red and purple, too dumbfounded to think or to measure your strength. But it seems your bites only incite the silver-haired more, his shoves faster and his groans broken.

One of his hands circles your waist securely to lock you in place, no falter in his thrusts. The wave of elation that suddenly crashes down over you is potent, numbing all your senses for a few seconds, but you are certain you must be screaming as you squirm. Your legs shake tremendously and your eyelids feel heavier.

Your second peak and the clenching of your cunt send Aemond over the edge. He bucks his hips, stilling inside you as he comes with a prolonged and deep grunt, head tilted back and lips parted. You didn't know what good action guaranteed you the privilege to see such a beautiful thing. Getting off him as he tries to regain his breath, a good amount of his warm seed drips in between your thighs, walls spinning as you feel quite faint.

Your back hits the fluffy mattress, your heart pounding in your ears and black dots cover your vision, which is slightly blurry. Shutting your eyes, you could not say how much time has passed as you recompose yourself and wait for your skin to cool down, but when you do, you are shocked to see the prince already soundly asleep next to you, mouth hung open as exhaustion had finally caught up to him after the latest events and your passionate indulgence.

Chuckling, you roll to your side as you watch him, his expression for once serene and breath even. You trace your finger gently across his straight eyebrow while appreciating the details of his face. The concern comes back to torment you as you wonder what the future has reserved for him, but you try to brush it off. You could only pray for his safety.

You recall the first time you saw him sleeping, it was quite unnerving, only the sapphire shining brightly while his good eye rested, but now the gemstone staring back at you was not only usual but comforting, a unique and enchanting charm in your opinion.

After getting up, you grab a cloth to clean the two of you, and although with a drowsy complaint from him, you manage to tuck the one-eyed in warm sheets. You put on your servant robes again and organize the mess you could deal with at the moment, gathering his armor as quietly as you can to be cleaned later. Pecking his pinkish lips slowly, you exit his quarters, feeling completely satisfied.

TAGS: @godrakin @m1ndbrand ♡⋆˙

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic

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soffsh2 · 8 months ago

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Tender Touches

A/n: it’s my first time writing an actual fic, hope it’s okay. Minors DNI. NSFW

Plot summary: After having a long practice, Shauna just wanted to relax in the bath but she’s plagued with thoughts of her teammate. It doesn’t help that she has small reminders all over her body.

Shauna groaned a little as she bent over, adjusting the faucet on her tub so that the water coming out billowed steam. As she stepped back from the bath she was running, she began to undress so she'd be able to soak her aching muscles. She began to remove her shirt and caught a glimpse of her body in the mirror, newly adorned with many bumps and bruises. After having the most physically enduring scrimmage of her entire life during practice, she just wanted to unwind and clear her head. Yet all her thoughts kept reverting to you, the reason behind all of Shauna’s bruised skin.

You and Shauna had never been on the friendliest terms, and neither of you could ever fully explain why that was. You’d just butt heads so often, during matches or just in everyday practices, which Jackie would always be less than thrilled about. She’d go on about how the bickering between you and Shauna had to stop for the good of the team, or at the very least to try and keep it outside of practice. It seemed to Jackie that after yesterday's practice ended with no fighting between the two of you, a friendship was for sure on the horizon.

However, it seemed you had decided to make the intensity of your continued distaste for Shauna very clear during the practice match. Being on opposing teams allowed you to get as rough and physical as you pleased while defending her, and you decided to take full advantage. Adorned in your blue pinny and Shauna in her yellow one, you took every opportunity to throw Shauna onto her ass. Which was more times than she’d care to admit, but the growing bruise on her backside was evidence enough. You disguised every hit, every trip, and every shove as a means of stopping her from getting a breakaway to the net. God, you were such a pest, Shauna thought as she stopped surveying her body in the mirror and continued to undress. She removed her final pieces of clothing, turned off the faucet, and lowered her sore body into the hot water.

After a short period to adjust to the temperature, she laid back and closed her eyes. Shauna wanted desperately to empty her mind of everything that pertained to the day's practice and all the frustration that had built up from being so jostled around. She tried so hard to just focus on the comforting feeling the warm bath gave her, but no, thoughts of you were still circling inside her head. She reopens her eyes as she relents that the day's scrimmage will just be at the forefront of her mind. And how could it not be, Shauna reasoned. She’d received more bruises from you, her own teammate, than she had ever gotten from any opposing player in actual games.

She sank even lower into the water and let her anger stew further as she thought more and more about you. How you were guarding her long before she was passed the ball, and how she was stripped of it immediately because of how dirty you were playing. The worst part about all of it was that after you’d knock her to the ground, steal the ball, and start running off, you would turn around with the most smug grin Shauna had ever seen. She was sure that she would’ve been fine with you, your shoving, and your shoulder checking, if only you didn’t finish it off with that dumb smile. Shauna felt herself getting angry once again at the thought of every instance that day that you had landed her flat on the ground. Every time she’d look up, you’d flash her a proud smirk before running off. Even in the relaxing heat, she could still feel her face twitch with annoyance. You had looked so full of yourself, God, how she had wanted to wipe that smirk off of your face.

She folded her arms onto her chest while she sat and continued her musings about you. After a quiet contemplation, Shauna is able to get a hold of all the negative emotions and is left with a harsh truth for her to admit to herself. Even she could admit it was kind of… surprising to have you completely run her body into the ground like that, though not untypical. She’d seen you do it to opposing players during actual matches and found it pretty impressive how easily you’d tripped up others. She could appreciate the pure skill it requires to take someone down like that, and she guessed the muscle it also required. Shauna had just never thought she’d be on the receiving end of it. She felt herself take a deep inhale as she stayed with the idea for an extra moment. The longer she had sat and thought about the way you manhandled her at practice, the more aware she became of the effect it had on her.

Yeah, maybe the way you grabbed at her and pushed her down would’ve been arousing for Shauna in other contexts. And maybe she liked the way your fingertips bruised her waist as you pawed to get a good grip on her body to slow her down. There could even be a chance she was into all the shittalking you were doing under your breath, which only Shauna could hear. But, no, she didn’t like you, and that smug grin you shot her after every push you gave her cemented that thought in her brain.

‘I mean, who did you think you were?’ Shauna questioned herself as she found her hands twitching in the water with the desire to do something she knew she shouldn’t do. She hadn’t even noticed her legs, which she’d subconsciously spread. Shauna paused for a moment. She cannot seriously be thinking like that about you right now. She hated you, and that dumb look on your face, and the way that her entire body had marks left by you. Or she hated the way they made her feel. She takes a deep breath; her normal breathing suddenly wasn’t giving her enough oxygen while she debated the idea.

Shauna moves her hand further down her body in the water, reaching its destination at the apex of her thighs. Her fingers ghost over where she wanted them, and the shift of the dispersing water sends minor sensations to all her most sensitive areas. Shauna decides she could maybe calm herself down like this; she had assured herself she’d only be doing it to settle herself and nothing more. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she began to move her fingers through her folds, gently playing with herself while she tried to occupy her mind of anyone other than you. But still, as she increased the pace of her fingers slowly, it's your name that rolled off her tongue when she moaned. It’s your calloused hand that she’d imagined touching her. And it’s your smug grin that Shauna imagined looking up at as she got more and more physical with herself. Her digits work at her clit with a torturous pressure as more thoughts of you consume the forefront of her mind.

She tried her best to imagine several other people before she decided that she could use the thought of you to get off this one time. Then she can go back to hating you when she’s done. Plus, it’s no fault of Shauna’s that she found the way that you handled her exciting. So with newly self-given permission, she allowed herself to fantasize about the person she despised the most, you.

Shauna opened her eyes slightly to gaze at the bruises your hand had left on her waist from when you forcefully pushed her body out of the touch lines. She poked at her discolored skin with her unoccupied hand as she writhed against the hand between her legs. The tenderness caused Shauna small bouts of pain as she jabbed at herself, so forceful that even when she removed her grip, there was still residual pain left. Her mouth hung open slightly at the sensation, letting out little pants of breath in between moans. The slight pain made Shauna more desperate, as she began to grind harder into her hand for more pressure. The hand that prodded at the bruises on her hips moved up to her chest to grope at her breasts. She closed her eyes, let out whispers of curse words at the contact, and felt the soreness of the freshly tender bruises that she had made worse.

Shauna could feel her legs start to tremble in the water as she fucked sloppily into her fingers. She could only imagine how smug you’d look if you could see her now, as she touched and fondled herself at the thought of how you grabbed her. The way you’d tease her for how heavy she was breathing, how much she wanted it, and how fucked out she’d look. The way you'd make even more bruises form on her body from love bites or sucking hickeys all over her. Shauna’s head became too heavy to hold up as she leaned it into the side of the tub and finished herself off. She whined out a small cry of your name as she finished and slowly worked herself down.

Shauna laid there for a moment in the now-cold bath water, her legs shaking and spasming as she brought them back together. She slowly rose and rinsed herself off with the shower head before she stepped out and drained the tub. Shauna wrapped herself in a towel before making her way to her bed, so she could sit down. She took a second to process her thoughts before she decided that she was sure that she still hated you. Absolutely positive that all that nervous energy she felt about you was simply arousal and nothing more. But while Shauna gazed at her legs, she couldn’t deny the feeling of delight she got as she admired the marks you’d left on her. And maybe she went into practice the next day with a new agenda to piss you off so she could keep getting these small reminders of you.

#shauna shipman x reader #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you

203 notes · View notes

jetii · 3 months ago

Note

Roy. My love. Bestie.

I saw a tag that there was Obi Wan smut in Event Horizon but you deleted it cause it wasn’t relevant to the plot

…*deep inhale*

Can we get

Perhaps

If you’re willing

Maybe

Please?

A deleted scenes bit? 👀👀

Ahh okay so I was hesitant to post this bc I didn't want to give the wrong impression about their relationship and my planned end game. I went back and edited a few things, clarified some other things a few days ago. Decided to post this now as a treat since neither Obi-Wan or Rex appear in this week's chapter. 💙

Even though I ultimately decided to leave this chapter out, it is "canon" and takes place between chapters five and six.

Event Horizon

Interlude: Remember to Lock the Door

Words: 6,189

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, friends with benefits, Force bonds, smut, masturbation, rough sex, cum play, inappropriate use of the Force?, i would not call this a healthy relationship

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It's been months since the fight, and you and Obi-Wan have never been closer. The bond between you has strengthened, and the trust has returned, the years of resentment and pain fading away day by day.

The two of you have worked through the issues that led to the rift between you and have rebuilt the relationship into something new, something deeper and stronger than it was before. You've been meditating more, trying to find balance, and while it's not easy, you're slowly learning to control the tumultuous emotions that have plagued you.

And, perhaps most importantly, the two of you have finally made amends.

As the months go by, you spend more and more time together, and it feels like no time has passed at all. You spar, and talk, and laugh, and it's almost as if the last few years never happened. On the battlefield, you move as one, the bond between you allowing you to anticipate and react to each other's movements without a second thought.

There's still a part of you that resents the Council for not believing you, for your fellow Jedi for turning their backs on you, but Obi-Wan has been there for you, helping you to process the emotions and come to terms with the pain and loss. And while it's not easy, you're working on it, one day at a time.

You still have nightmares, and the anger is never far from the surface, but you're learning to deal with them and channel the negative emotions into something productive. It's what you're attempting to do now as you sit in your quarters, your eyes closed and your mind focused on the Force.

You can feel the darkness within you, the rage and the hatred, and you're trying to find a way to balance them with the light, to bring the two into harmony. You've been at it for hours, and while the progress is slow, you can feel yourself getting closer. It's exhausting work, and you're starting to flag, but you press on, determined to make some progress.

Just as you're about to give up, there's a knock at your door. You groan, annoyed, but rise to your feet and make your way to the entrance. As soon as you draw nearer, you feel a rush of familiar energy, and a smile spreads across your face.

You open the door, and Obi-Wan's blue eyes sparkle with mischief, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

"You didn't tell me you were back," you say by way of greeting, your tone light.

Obi-Wan shrugs, the movement exaggerated, and his voice is dripping with sarcasm when he dips his head toward you.

"Well, I wanted to surprise you," he teases. "Since you've been so busy with...what, exactly?"

He gestures at the room behind you, and you blush, realizing how much of a mess it is. There are sheets of flimsi and holopads strewn about, and your cloak is crumpled in the corner, your boots lying haphazardly by the door. You look up at him, and the laughter bubbles inside you, the frustration and exhaustion melting away.

"Oh, stop it," you say, and Obi-Wan chuckles. "You know I've been working."

"Yes, I can see that," he replies. "Working yourself to death, apparently."

You roll your eyes, but the smile stays on your lips. You're glad he's here, glad he's teasing you, and it's a welcome distraction from the heaviness that's been weighing on you.

"Something like that," you admit. "How was Christophsis?"

"You'll be pleased to know we won," Obi-Wan says dryly. He casts a look down either side of the long hallway, then, finding no one, he leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. The pose is casual, relaxed, and he gives you a crooked grin. "But I didn't come here to discuss strategy."

"Ah." You smirk, mirroring his pose, and raise an eyebrow. "What, then, brought you to my door at such a late hour, Master Kenobi?"

He huffs a laugh. "I think you already know the answer to that."

"Perhaps. But I think I'd like to hear you say it," you tease, a playful glint in your eye.

"Very well."

He sighs, feigning exasperation, but the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile. Obi-Wan steps forward, close enough to reach out and tuck your hair behind your ear. His hand lingers on the side of your face, and he lets the back of his fingers trace a gentle path down your neck.

"I missed you, and I wanted to see you,” he murmurs.

"That's sweet," you murmur. Your gaze flickers up to meet his, and you take hold of the front of his tunic, tugging him through the door. "Now get in here. We can't have your fellow Council members seeing you visiting me at this hour. They'll start to think I'm corrupting their precious poster boy."

Obi-Wan snorts, his eyes rolling, but he follows you inside without protest, the door sliding shut behind him. He engages the lock, just in case, and turns back to you, finding you standing a few feet away wearing a coy smile.

"I did miss you, you know," Obi-Wan admits, walking towards you. He slides his robes off his shoulders, letting them fall to the floor in a puddle. "Very much, actually. We could've used your expertise. There were times when Anakin's tactics were..." He waves a hand, searching for the right word. "Unconventional, at best."

"So, the usual, then?"

"The usual," he confirms.

His eyes trail over your form, and his expression softens. You know the circles under your eyes must be dark, the fatigue etched into the lines of your face. He reaches out, running his fingers down your arm.

"You've been overworking yourself again, haven't you?" he asks, his voice gentle.

"I suppose," you shrug. "But I've made some progress. I think I'm getting better."

Obi-Wan nods, and the concern in his eyes is touching. "I'm glad to hear that."

You nod, and his fingers trace back up your arm, over your shoulder, and to your face, tilting your chin up. He searches your eyes, his gaze lingering on the shadows beneath.

"Are you sleeping?"

You shrug again, not meeting his eyes. "Sometimes. Not as much as I should."

"And eating?"

"Obi-Wan," you say, rolling your eyes. "I'm fine. I promise."

He frowns, but doesn't push the issue. Instead, he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead.

"If you say so," he says, pulling back. He glances around the room, taking in the chaos, and shakes his head. "Do you think you could possibly clear some space? If I recall, there are a few chairs in here somewhere, though I'll admit it's hard to tell."

"Hilarious," you deadpan. You step forward and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing yourself against him. "But I have a better idea."

Obi-Wan smiles, and his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer.

"I'm listening," he says.

"Well, since I haven't seen you in weeks," you say, trailing a hand down his chest. "I think we should skip the pleasantries and just go straight to the good stuff."

"That sounds like a plan," Obi-Wan murmurs. His lips are only a hair's breadth from yours, his breath warm on your skin. "And just what might that entail, exactly?"

"Oh, you know." Your hand travels lower, sliding down his abdomen. "I was thinking a bit of this." You grab the hem of his tunic, tugging it upward. "A bit of that."

"I'm listening," he repeats, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

You slide his tunic over his head, exposing his muscled torso. Your fingers roam across his smooth skin, and his breath hitches, his eyes closing. He leans into your touch, and his lips ghost along your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"I'm going to need a little more information," Obi-Wan murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You tilt your head, offering him better access. Your hands move down his stomach, slipping into the waistband of his trousers. You grin when he sucks in a breath, and your fingers brush his growing arousal, eliciting a soft groan.

"Is that what you had in mind?" you whisper, your voice husky.

"Not quite." Obi-Wan's eyes crack open, and they're hooded with desire. He presses a kiss to the spot behind your ear, his lips trailing down the side of your neck. "Keep going."

You chuckle, and your grip on him tightens, eliciting another gasp. You run your thumb over the tip of his length, and he shudders, his hips bucking.

"More," he says, his voice strained.

"You want me to keep talking?"

"No, no," he groans, his teeth grazing your pulse point. "I want you to show me."

You pull your hands out of his pants, and he sighs at the loss. You turn your back to him and move toward the bed, pulling your own shirt over your head. Your breasts are bared to the cool air, and the sound of his sharp intake of breath makes you smirk.

You look over your shoulder, and his eyes are dark with desire, his gaze roaming over your exposed skin.

"What, no quips this time?" you ask, feigning innocence.

"I'm afraid not," Obi-Wan murmurs. "I think I'll leave the talking to you."

You chuckle, and begin unbuttoning your trousers, swaying your hips a bit more than necessary. You kick the fabric off and then turn around, your fingers trailing over the curve of your breast. Obi-Wan's eyes follow the movement, his pupils dilated, and his tongue darts out, wetting his lips.

“Are you going to join me, or are you just going to stand there and watch?"

Obi-Wan takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, his gaze roaming over every inch of exposed skin.

“I rather like the view from here, actually."

You scoff and turn away, feigning annoyance. As soon as you're sure he can't see, you let a mischievous grin spread across your lips. You slide your hands over your stomach, dipping into the waistband of your underwear, and slide them down your thighs. You glance over your shoulder, and his gaze is fixed on your exposed skin, his cheeks flushed, and his mouth slightly agape.

"Then enjoy it,” you tease, bending over and sliding your underwear off.

He groans, and the sound sends a shiver of anticipation through you. You lie back on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows, and spread your legs. Without breaking eye contact, you let your fingers wander down, slipping between the slick folds.

You moan as your finger circles your clit, the pleasure coiling inside you. Obi-Wan swallows, his gaze fixed on your hand, and he starts to undo his pants. You can't help the smug grin that spreads across your lips, and you pick up the pace, your breath coming in short gasps.

"This is what you want to see, isn't it?" you ask, arching your back and pushing two fingers inside yourself.

Obi-Wan is struggling to undress, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of his trousers. His gaze darts between you and the task at hand, and you can see the frustration building, his patience wearing thin.

"Stop that," he growls.

"Why? Am I distracting you?"

"Yes."

He finally manages to free himself, and his erection springs free, hard and flushed with blood. He steps forward, kicking his boots off, and moves towards the bed. You bite back a moan, the sight of him, bare and ready, making your heart race.

Obi-Wan crawls onto the bed, his eyes locked with yours. You feel the anticipation building, the pressure coiling low in your stomach, and you can’t help but grind your hips down, trying to relieve the ache.

His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your fingers out, and the whimper that escapes you makes him grin. He pins your arm to the bed, his other hand gripping your thigh.

"I thought I told you to stop that," he murmurs.

"You did." You smirk, your free hand tracing up his stomach. "I didn't listen."

Obi-Wan huffs, and his grip on your thigh tightens, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He moves between your legs, and his erection brushes against your entrance, the head teasing you. You let out a soft moan, and your hips rock forward, desperate for more.

He chuckles, and he moves closer, his lips ghosting over yours. He doesn’t kiss you though, a boundary the two of you agreed on years ago. One of the few things the two of you didn't share, even back then.

"You're insufferable," he breathes, the words a whisper against your skin.

"And yet, you're here," you murmur.

He groans, and his eyes flutter closed, his nose brushing against yours.

"Corruption, indeed."

You laugh, and the sound seems to break the last of his restraint. He thrusts inside you in one smooth stroke, burying himself to the hilt. The sudden intrusion, the sudden stretch, makes you gasp, and the pleasure washes over you, the heat of his body sending sparks flying.

"Fuck, Obi-Wan," you pant, your eyes squeezing shut.

"What was that?" He pauses, waiting for you to open your eyes. "I'm sorry, did you have something to say?"

"No," you say, shaking your head.

"Are you sure?" he teases, and his lips brush the corner of your mouth.

"Just fuck me, please," you whine, trying to roll your hips, desperate for more. He doesn't let you, though, his grip on your leg keeping you in place.

He chuckles, and pulls back, just enough for the tip to catch on the edge of your entrance. The anticipation is driving you crazy, the aching emptiness making you groan. You open your eyes, and his gaze locks with yours, his expression playful, and teasing.

"Obi-Wan, please.”

He doesn't respond, his gaze still fixed on yours, and you're about to beg him again when he finally thrusts forward, filling you completely in one swift motion. The force of his movement rocks the bed, the metal frame squeaking in protest, and your body arches, the pleasure overwhelming.

"Like that?" he asks, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his lips despite the innocence of his tone.

"Don't be smug," you breathe.

"Me? Never."

You scoff, and the sound dissolves into a groan as he rolls his hips, the angle sending stars across your vision.

Obi-Wan begins moving in earnest, setting a slow, familiar pace. His hands move to your waist, holding you steady, and his grip is strong, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips. He moves inside you, his movements languid and deliberate, each thrust drawing out a soft gasp.

The pleasure builds, slowly, and steadily, and the heat in the room rises, the sweat starting to bead on your skin. You can feel your bond with him, the connection between you humming and singing, the emotions and sensations flowing between the two of you in an endless loop.

It's a connection you've both been wary of, one that can be dangerous if allowed to spiral, but one you can't help but give into, to revel in.

The tangled threads of emotion are difficult to separate, the love and the lust, the friendship and the desire, the anger and the pain, all of it swirling together, creating a heady mix of sensations. You can feel Obi-Wan's arousal, and his affection, his concern and his desire, and it only fuels your own, the emotions spurring each other on.

You're both drowning in the intensity of the feedback loop, the connection amplifying everything, and you can't bring yourself to care, to even try and stop.

His thoughts and feelings are intertwined with yours, and you're not sure where one ends and the other begins. The lines are blurred beyond recognition, the barriers between you stripped away. It's all too easy to lose yourself in it, to allow yourself to seek out the lightness of his heart and make yourself at home.

You're drawn to it like a moth to a flame, and you let yourself go. You let yourself consume the happiness and the joy that he feels, the comfort and the pleasure, and you allow it to fill the aching void in your chest. The darkness is pushed back, the shadows chased away, and the light that fills the hollow places inside you is warm and sweet.

It's the happiest you've been in months.

"What are you doing?" Obi-Wan pants, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"I don't know," you breathe, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Just, please, keep going."

He nods, and he thrusts deeper, the pleasure rippling through the two of you. The sensation is intoxicating, and you find yourself clinging to it, the euphoria making your head spin. You can't help but reach out and search for more, the need to drown the pain and the grief, to silence the voices, driving you to chase the feeling.

It's dangerous, you know. It’s more than you’ve ever allowed yourself to take, but you're so lost in the sensation that you can't bring yourself to care. It's too much, too good, and you're desperate to hold on, to cling to the feeling of safety and peace that flows through the two of you.

You want to drown in the light, the hope and the warmth, and never resurface.

And so, you continue to take, and take, and take, until, with a sudden jolt, it's over.

The sudden absence of his energy, the cold shock of the emptiness, makes you gasp, and your eyes snap open. You’re met with Obi-Wan's concerned gaze, his eyes wide and frantic, and it takes you a moment to realize what's happened.

"Sorry," he breathes, his brow furrowed. His eyes search your face, and he swallows. "That was...intense."

You swallow, the guilt gnawing at your gut, and you nod, trying to calm your racing heart.

"Yeah," you murmur, your voice raspy as the shame threatens to make your throat close up. "Obi-Wan--"

"Shh, it's okay," he murmurs, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face. His thumb traces along the line of your jaw, and his touch is gentle, comforting. He leans down and presses his forehead against yours, his hair tickling your face. "It's okay."

You watch his eyes squeeze shut, his brows drawing together. He's trying to regain control, to rein in the emotions and the sensations that have gotten the better of him. Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, and his grip on your waist tightens.

The bond between the two of you has always been there, ever since the moment you'd met, and over the years it's only grown stronger. It was inevitable, really, with the amount of time the two of you spent together.

It's a natural, unconscious, and unavoidable process, and the fact that you can sense each other's emotions is not something the two of you can change. It's just part of who you both are, and while it's not a burden, not in any way, it is something that requires a delicate balance.

One that is easily lost.

And this, this is exactly why the Jedi forbid such attachments. Why the rules were created, why the lines were drawn, and why the two of you, no matter how much you care about each other, can never be more than this. The bond between the two of you is a double-edged sword, the connection amplifying both the good and the bad. It can bring the two of you together, closer than any two people could possibly be, or it can tear you completely asunder.

And you know, just as you've always known, that if such a thing would ever come to pass, it would be your fault.

Obi-Wan's grip on your waist loosens, and the tension drains out of him, the momentary lapse forgotten. His eyes open, and he searches yours, his expression soft. He smiles, the warmth of it spreading through you, soothing the anxiety.

"Still with me?" he asks, his voice gentle.

"Yes," you breathe.

His gaze drops, and his eyes lock on the place where your bodies are joined. He lets out a quiet noise at the sight of your arousal coating the base of his cock, the wetness dripping down his length. His softening erection hardens again, and his hips twitch, the need to move returning.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down, pressing your chest against his. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him as his body shields yours from the outside world.

You're enveloped in his warmth, and you revel in the closeness, the intimacy. The pleasure sparks to life with each shift of his hips, and the two of you begin to move, slowly at first, then with more urgency, the rhythm picking up speed until the pace is frantic.

Your lips find his neck, and you begin to trail kisses up his jaw, the stubble rough against your lips. You nip at the sensitive spot just below his ear, and the moan that escapes him sends a shiver down your spine. His arms wrap around your waist, and he pulls you impossibly closer, his hips thrusting erratically. The pleasure builds, and the pressure in your abdomen grows, the release just out of reach.

Obi-Wan's grip on you tightens, and he buries his face in your neck, his lips tracing a path along your shoulder. His teeth graze your collarbone, and you can't help but tilt your head, exposing the sensitive skin to his wandering mouth. He takes the invitation, and his lips close over the soft flesh, his teeth biting down gently.

Your mind goes blank as the pressure inside you suddenly snaps, the pleasure flooding through you, washing over you in a wave. Your entire body tenses, and a low, keening moan escapes you, the sound echoing in the room. Your back arches, and you can't help the way your hips buck, grinding down against him, seeking out every last drop of the overwhelming sensations.

Obi-Wan lets out a groan at the feeling of your walls fluttering, and he rears back, his head snapping up, his eyes wild. He searches your face, his gaze darting across your features, as if trying to memorize every detail.

"I—" He swallows, his expression almost reverent, as if he can't quite believe what he's seeing. "I need—"

He cuts himself off, and his words are lost, his voice trailing off. You watch, transfixed, as he tries to get his breathing under control, his chest heaving with the effort. His eyes drift back to the spot where the two of you are joined, and he watches as his length disappears inside you, his breath hitching at the sight.

He's always loved this, watching the two of you come together, and he's not ashamed to admit it. Obi-Wan's not shy about what he wants, and he's never had a problem asking, not when it comes to this. He likes to watch, and he's never hesitated to tell you so, and as always, the words are on the tip of his tongue.

But he's distracted, and his gaze is unfocused, and hazy. He's lost in the sensation, and you can't help but marvel at the way his eyes widen as if the sight of the two of you together is somehow brand new, as if he's never seen anything like it.

"Obi-Wan," you whine, trying to get his attention.

"What?" he mumbles, his eyes glued to the spot where your bodies meet.

"Obi-Wan."

"Hmm?" He blinks, his gaze flickering up to yours. He looks like he's trying to remember how to speak, his lips parted, and his eyes unfocused. "Yes?"

"What do you want?"

His swallows hard, and his hips stutter. His expression turns pained, and he squeezes his eyes shut, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turn white.

He shakes his head, his breath coming in short gasps. "I can't—"

"Obi-Wan."

"Please," he moans, his voice a strangled whisper, and his hips slam into yours, the force of his movement making you cry out. "I can't."

You wrap your legs around his waist, your ankles locking behind him, and he whimpers at the sudden tightness, the increased pressure. His arms are trembling, and you can feel the tension in his muscles, the strain of holding back.

"Then don't," you murmur.

You can see the conflict on his face, and his jaw clenches, his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes flutter closed, and he lets out a soft groan, his head dropping forward, his forehead coming to rest on yours.

"But—"

"Obi-Wan, please."

You reach up, and your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. He leans into your touch, and the contact seems to break the last of his resolve, his restraint shattering. He's still for a moment, as if the weight of what he's about to do is sinking in.

Then, his hips move faster, the slow, languid thrusts quickly giving way to something more primal, and frantic. You can feel the pleasure building inside him, and his thoughts, and emotions, bleed through the connection, his desire spilling over into you.

"I've got you," you murmur, and the words seem to shatter the last of his composure, the final pieces of his carefully crafted control slipping away.

He groans, the sound raw and desperate, and his hips slam into yours. You can feel the pleasure building, the tension growing, and his thrusts grow more erratic, the pace becoming frantic.

He's consumed by the feeling, and he's unable, or unwilling, to hide the way his mind is spiraling. The bond between the two of you is wide open, and his mind is an ocean, his emotions swelling and breaking against the shore. The waves of arousal and lust are overwhelming, and they're crashing over you, threatening to pull you under.

The intensity of it all is too much, and you have to turn away, squeezing your eyes shut. You can't look at him, can't bear the sight of him. He's laid bare before you, completely and utterly vulnerable, and you can't handle it. You're drowning in it, and it's all you can do to cling to him, to keep your head above water as Obi-Wan loses himself.

His hands find your thighs, and he holds them, lifting you up, and positioning you how he wants. The movement pushes him deeper, and the angle makes him hit that sweet spot, and you gasp, your eyes flying open.

"Please, I—"

"Not yet," he groans, his voice raw. "Wait, not yet."

"I—oh fuck, please," you gasp.

He doesn't respond, his body acting on instinct. His mind is a haze, and the need to be as close to you as possible, to give you everything, consumes him.

He wants to lose himself, and he's begging you to let him, and there's no way you can deny him. Tears spring to your eyes, and you can't stop the sob that escapes you.

And he doesn't care, doesn't even notice. He's blind to it, his senses too full of his own pleasure, his own need, to feel anything else. He doesn't even hear the words, the soft pleas, the whispered prayers that tumble from your lips. All he knows is that you're there, that you're with him, and he's holding you, touching you, inside you, and he wants, he needs, so badly.

And he takes.

He takes and takes, and you let him. You let him use you, and you bask in the sensation, in the knowledge that, at least for a few moments, you can be there for him.

You can be the light, and he can be the shadow.

And for those few moments, it's enough.

With a choked gasp, Obi-Wan pulls out, and you're left empty and wanting, biting your lip to stop from screaming at the loss. Through half-lidded eyes, you see him reach down, his fist closing around his erection, pumping it roughly, and then he's coming, his release coating your stomach, his cock pulsing as the pleasure floods through him. He moans through it, the sound muffled by the arm he throws across his mouth, and his face is twisted with pleasure, his brows drawn together.

The feeling of his pleasure crashes into you through the bond, and the sight of him losing himself, the look on his face and the sounds he makes, is enough to send you over the edge. You feel your walls flutter and clench around nothing, the emptiness only heightening the pleasure. Your body trembles, and your hands grasp at the sheets, searching for something, anything, to hold on to.

Obi-Wan watches in awe as your orgasm ripples through you, his eyes wide and his mouth agape as his arm falls away. You can feel his shock and wonder through the bond, his amazement at the sight of you coming untouched, and his hand doesn't stop until the last drop has spilled onto your stomach.

You're left breathless and boneless, your body trembling with the aftershocks, and you can't help the smile that spreads across your lips. The pleasure, the satisfaction, and the joy is radiating from him, and it's contagious. It's hard not to laugh, and harder still not to cry, and you're not sure what you'd do if not for the fact that you're both so utterly, completely spent.

Obi-Wan looks down at the mess, and chuckles, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. "That was..." he trails off, his brain unable to come up with a coherent thought.

You nod, and let out a weak laugh, the sound more like a sigh. "I know."

"And I didn't even—"

"I know.”

Obi-Wan chuckles, and the sound is warm and light, his happiness spreading through the room. He runs a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, his eyes sparkling, and there's a shy grin plastered on his face.

"My apologies," he says, his tone sheepish. "I don't know what came over me."

"That makes one of us," you tease.

He snorts, his cheeks heating, and he falls to the side, rolling over on his back next to you. The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, trying to catch your breath, your shoulders brushing with each exhale.

You grin and nudge his arm. "Welcome back, by the way."

"I'm glad to be back," he replies, rolling onto his side to face you. He traces a lazy pattern across your skin, smirking when the muscles in your stomach flinch. "Though if this is the welcome I get, maybe I should stay away more often."

"Don't you dare," you warn, laughing.

Obi-Wan grins, and the look in his eyes is soft, the affection bleeding through the bond as his fingers trace along the curve of your hip. He watches you, his gaze lingering on your face, and there's a look in his eyes, a vulnerability that he rarely allows himself to show.

You feel a sudden wave of emotion, a mixture of love and regret, and the force of it steals your breath.

He shouldn't be looking at you like that, like you're his entire world, because you're not. You're his best friend, his confidant, his equal, but you're not his lover. And you're certainly not his soulmate, or his other half, or whatever the hell it is people call the person they're meant to be with.

He shouldn't be looking at you, and it makes the guilt gnaw at your gut, a reminder of what the two of you are doing, and what the two of you have done, over and over again. Because, as good as it feels, as much as it eases the pain, you can't pretend that it's not a mistake.

The Jedi are forbidden to love, and for good reason. Love is dangerous, and complicated, and it's the kind of attachment that leads to the Dark Side. The Council knows this, and the rules are in place to protect everyone, to keep the Order strong and united.

It's for the best, and it's necessary, and yet here the two of you are, breaking those rules. And for what? For some fleeting moments of pleasure, and a bit of fun? For some meaningless, empty physical connection, something that will never lead anywhere, and that can never last?

It's not worth it, not really. You both know that, and yet you continue to seek each other out, continuing to risk everything for the sake of a few hours of bliss. To pretend that everything is as it used to be, and that the war, and the fighting, and the dying are still a thousand worlds away.

It's foolish, and selfish, and reckless, but it's not something either of you can seem to stop. Obi-Wan has always done well at following the rules and obeying the Code, but he's also never been the most truly obedient of the Jedi. He's never been able to completely give up his attachments, and you know that his love for you is not the only one he carries. It's something the two of you share, the inability to let go of those you care about, and it's a weakness.

A weakness that, if not handled with care, could be his downfall. One that you can't help but feed into and encourage at every turn, even if it means destroying him. One that, despite your best efforts, you have come to rely on, to seek out, and to cling to.

It's a problem, and one that neither of you are able, or willing, to solve.

And so, the two of you remain in your little bubble of bliss, pretending that the universe isn't burning.

"Let's clean up and then come back to bed," you say, interrupting the silence. "There are some things I'd like to discuss with you, and I'd rather not be covered in fluids when I do so."

"Agreed."

Obi-Wan looks around, and a moment later a box of tissues flies from across the room into his hand. He helps you wipe off, and then you stand on shaky legs. You head to the fresher and clean yourself off properly, and by the time you return, he's already in bed, the blankets pulled up around his waist.

You slide in next to him, and the bed dips as he shifts closer, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. The two of you prop yourselves up on your elbows, and the position is familiar, the two of you having spent many nights discussing strategy and planning.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asks, his voice gentle.

You hesitate. You could tell him about the nightmares. You could tell him about how the fear of losing him, of losing everything, is weighing heavy on your heart. You could tell him about how you can't sleep, can't focus, because all you can think about is how everything is falling apart, how the darkness is winning, how there's nothing you can do to stop it.

You could tell him, and he would listen. He would hold you, and he would comfort you, and he would offer his own advice. He would tell you that it's okay, and that everything will be fine, and that the nightmares are not real, and that he is not going anywhere. He would tell you that the darkness cannot win, and that the Republic will prevail, and that everything will work out.

He would tell you what you want to hear, and he would do it because he loves you, and because he wants to believe it, too.

But you don't. You can't bring yourself to, not yet. Not while he's looking at you like that, his gaze full of warmth and fondness and trust. Not when things are finally starting to get better, not when the two of you are finally getting somewhere.

Obi-Wan has enough to deal with as it is without the weight of your own anxieties, and so you push aside your doubts and fears, and you decide, for once, to follow his example and to put on a brave face.

"Everything," you reply. "Tell me about Christophsis. Tell me what happened. I want to hear everything."

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, and you know that the stories he's about to tell you are going to be anything but pleasant. You also know that, no matter how bad they are, it will be a relief to talk about them.

You'll listen, and you'll offer what comfort you can, and you'll let him vent his frustrations and worries. And then, when it's all over, and the stories have been told, the two of you will curl up and sleep will take you. The nightmares will be held at bay, and the darkness will stay where it belongs, locked away until morning.

"Anakin's plan was insane," he begins, and you smile.

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ninii-winchester · 4 months ago

Text

Unveiled Sorrows (Part 6)

Pairings : Dean Winchester X Reader, Sam Winchester X Reader (platonic), Dean Winchester X Lisa Braden (mentioned)

Word count: 4.4k

Warnings : angst, so much angst grab your tissues pls, spoilers s1-s6, violence, language, mentions of Djinn. Sam has his soul.

A/n : This series follows canon plot line but some scenes might happen differently or be completely changed. Check the warnings for each part before continuing.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Sam had been acting strange for the past two days and it wasn't sitting right with Y/n or Bobby. He was anxious, paranoid and jumpy. He acted like someone was out to get to him. And then suddenly Y/n started acting strange too. It was as if the two of them had been going crazy, which scared Bobby and Samuel. Truth is, someone was actually after the two.

"Bobby I swear there was a werewolf in the yard." Y/n panicked holding Adeline to her chest.

"Have you gone mad? Werewolves appear on full moon and at night. It's the middle of the day." Bobby replied throwing his hands in the air.

"Sammy cmon you have to believe me." She turned to her best friend. Sam stood still with his arms crossed against his chest. A knock on the door was heard and Y/n jumped in her place clutching Adeline even more firmly. Sam went to see and came back with Samuel, Christian trailing behind him.

"Anything?" Bobby asked Samuel.

"You two ever run into a Djinn?" Christian asked Sam and Y/n. Sam raised his brow at the question.

"Yeah, a few years back. He took Dean, we had to kill it." Y/n replied flatly.

"It's Djinns that are after you two. Didn't know why they were but now it makes sense. They're here for revenge." Samuel told them.

"Wait what?" Y/n asked. "Why haven't they attacked out front."

"It's easier. The things you two are seeing aren't real. It's them messing around with your heads. And soon enough you two will go insane and kill yourself." Samuel explained.

"What?" The two exclaimed.

"Well luckily for you, we have found an antidote." Christian said showing them a syringe filled with white liquid. "But we have to kill them before they come for you again."

"I'll have it first. Can't be too sure until we've tried." Sam says looking at his grandfather.

"Sammy no." Y/n stopped him.

"Y/n, respectfully. Shut up." Sam replied and then nodded towards Christian who injected him with the liquid.

"Do you feel anything Sam?" Bobby asked.

Suddenly, y/n screamed. Bobby immediately took Adeline from her arms as she backed up against the wall. her breathing laboured as she saw Azaezel in front of her. Her eyes widened, she knew it wasn't real and it was the Djinns doing but she couldn't help but choke as 'Azaezel' grabbed her by her neck. She felt herself being thrown towards a heap of books. The men watched as she was slammed against the window, the glass shattered with loud noise, she groaned at the impact.

"We can't wait Sam, she'll kill herself." Samuel said getting worried.

Sam nodded and Christian went to tranquillise her but she resisted, Sam grabbed her tightly and Christian stabbed y/n with the needle, injecting the liquid and right then she stopped moving completely. A few seconds later she opened her eyes and Sam sighed in relief. The two looked at each other when realisation dawned upon them.

"DEAN."

Dean hadn’t slept well since the night he saw her. She was plaguing his mind whether he was awake or asleep. Every time he would close his eyes he'd see her face, hear her voice. Now it's gotten to the point where he sees her when he's awake. It's like he's hallucinating. Then the appearance of the claw marks all over the neighbourhood. He assumed she might be here to hunt whatever is out here but he hasn't heard of a single death in the area. Not even a missing person's report.

He ought to check. He went to the garage of the house he shares with Lisa. He opened the trunk of the Impala and grabbed his gun. He felt a presence behind him and felt someone throwing him against the garage wall. He watched as Azaezel walked closer to him. Blood trickled down Dean's forehead.

"This isn't possible, i killed you. I shot you with the Colt." Dean said.

"Did you Dean? You might have but you didn't succeed. You can't ever do anything right Dean. You let Sam die. You couldn't save him. Your precious Y/n oh i wonder how she's doing." Dean growled as he heard him say her name. Azaezel grabbed Dean and bashed his head against the wall. The next thing he knew, everything thing went black.

When Dean came back to consciousness, he blinked slowly trying to adjust his eyes to the lighting. He gasped when he saw Sam sitting in front of me.

"Sam?" Dean asked sitting up.

"Yeah it's me." Sam said cutting his arm with a silver knife, showing Dean that he's in-fact Sam. Dean stood up and pulled Sam in a tight hug. "I expected a lot more scepticism." Sam joked as he hugged him back.

"How?" Dean questioned looking at Sam, still not believing he's here.

"I don't know." Sam shrugged. "I've researched for weeks i have no clue how i am back."

"Weeks? How long have you been back?"

"Almost a year, now!"

"You've been back for a year and you didn't come to me? What are you doing here now?" Dean snapped.

"Dean I wanted you to be happy and i knew you were happy here so I didn't bother you. You've always wanted all this." Sam replied.

"I only wanted my brother, alive." Dean replied pacing the room. "What have you been doing all this time?"

"Hunting!"

"With other people?"

"They're...more like family." Sam replied. "Look, I didn't want to come here but I had to, the things you were seeing weren't real. It was the Djinns, they came after us and I knew it was a matter of time they came after you." Sam explained.

"Us?" Dean questioned.

"Y/n and I." Sam replied. Dean stayed silent.

"So she's your only family now? You've been hunting with her?" Dean said with an edge to his voice.

"No Dean, y/n doesn't hunt and I'm not talking about her."

"Don't lie to me Sam, I saw her a few days back, heard her talking about a Vampire hunt."

"That was the only hunt she went on over the past year." Sam replied.

"Where've you been living? Bet its with this family of yours?"

"You might want to come with me."

Sam took Dean to the place where Samuel and the Campbell's lived. Gemma, Will, Gwen, Christian and Mark introduced themselves to Dean. He recognised Gemma and Will from the bar.

"Campbells as in..." Dean trailed off looking at Sam, not mentioning the fact that's met Will and Gemma.

"Mom's relatives." Sam confirmed.

"Dean." A voice called out and he turned to see his grandfather who was supposed to be dead. He looked like he had seen a ghost which is ironic considering he hunted them.

"Samuel?" Dean said walking towards him. The older man pulled his grandson in his embrace. Dean's face showed pure confusion.

"Whatever pulled Sam up, pulled me down as well. Who or why, we don't know." Samuel told Dean. And the latter nodded in understanding.

The group of hunters was now discussing their plan of action to defeat the Djinns. Dean clearly stated that he has no intention of coming back to the business, he just wants to keep Lisa and Ben. Speaking of,

"Lisa and Ben!" Dean exclaimed. "Sam you have to take me home, those Djinns know where I live, they could harm them." Sam nodded in understanding and took Dean back to his house.

Dean rushed the house and called out for Lisa. When he got no answer he grew anxious, he ran all over the house trying to find them. The front door opened and Lisa and Ben walked in. Dean immediately pulled them in his embrace sighing in relief.

Sam's jaw clenched as he watched Dean place a kiss on their heads. The way he was caring for Lisa and her kid like his own, oblivious to the fact that he has a biological daughter who deserves the same affection and love from her father.

"We need to get them out of here and somewhere safe." Dean said looking at Sam.

"Yeah we'll get them to-"

"Bobby's." Dean interrupted Sam.

"Dean, I don't think that's a good idea. We'll get them to Samuel's."

"Sam no offence but I don't trust anyone else except you and Bobby. And we're going to Bobby's, that's final." Dean stated leaving no room for argument.

It was a rare occurrence when Y/n was happy, like genuinely happy and today was one of those days. She's been trying for while to get Adeline to sit up on her own without any back support or falling back. And today the little baby sat on her own for a few seconda before plopping back on heap of pillows behind her.

"Bobby did you see that?" Y/ asked excitedly, a huge smile gracing her lips. The old man nodded, his expressions mirroring her own. "I can't wait for Sam to come home and see this. He's going to be ecstatic." She smiled.

Y/n thought had she asked for something else she would've gotten because the moment she said that, she heard the sound of Sam's car's horn thrice. He always did that, it was their secret code of sorts. Y/n picked up Adeline from where she was laying and excitedly made her way towards the front door, she heard the car door slam shut more than once indicating Sam brought company.

"See baby Uncle Sammy is hom-" She opened the door and her words got stuck inside as saw the company Sam brought.

Her gaze moved from Sam to Dean and then stopped on Lisa and Ben. None of them spoke a word. Dean's eyes dropped to the little baby in Y/n's arms and his heart dropped to the deepest pit of his stomach. He felt like couldn't breath. The baby looked like an exact copy of him.

"You promised, Winchester." Y/n's gaze turned to Sam who at least looked apologetic but she felt betrayed. She moved her arm behind her back and retrieved her gun from the back of her jeans.

"Y/n look i can explain.." Sam stuttered and she turn the safety off, of the gun. "Wait you can't shoot, Adeline's ears are sensitive." Sam said holding his hands in the air.

Sam's words broke Dean out of his trance, Adeline's ears. Adeline. Adeline. Adeline. It kept ringing in his ears when it clicked. Thats she name she told him at the bar.

"That's why I have a silencer on my gun." And with she shot Sam in the arm. He groaned as the bullet pierced him. Lisa and Ben flinched and Dean rushed to his brother's side still not believing she actually shot him. "I wish I had it in me to put a bullet in your head." She told Sam before turning her attention to the other two people.

"Hi Lisa. How've you been?" She said. "Hey Ben, remember me?" She smiled at the boy.

"I'm good." Lisa said even more shaken up at this point.

"You're y/n. You saved me from that monster." Ben said happily.

"I sure did." She wrapped her other arm which was not holding Adeline around Ben's shoulder. "You've grown, kiddo." She told him bringing him inside, Lisa followed behind.

Dean helped Sam inside as all of them settled into the main room. Bobby looked at Dean and froze but then jumped into action as he saw Sam's profusely bleeding arm.

"What happened to him?" He asked Dean and Dean eyed Y/n. His gaze again settled on the child in her arms.

"Uh I had it coming." Sam groaned as Bobby cleaned his wound and patched him up.

An awkward silence fell into the room as nobody knew what to say. And Y/n took it upon herself to break the tension.

"I'm assuming we were right about the Djinn? Him going after Dean." She asked and Sam nodded.

"Yeah i barely reached there in time." He grunted sitting in the desk chair. "We had to bring them to somewhere safe and this is safest place we know." Sam looked at Y/n hoping she'd understand why he brought them here. He added 'we' hoping she'd know it wasn't his decision.

"Alright, since we've got no leads on the Djinns at the moment its safe to say you'll be here for a while." Y/n said to Lisa. "I think we've got enough rooms."

Bobby told the group he'd get Lisa and Ben to help settle in and show them to their room, he felt like the tension in the air would suffocate him to death so he opted out. Y/n cradled the little girl who was on the verge of falling asleep. She made her way to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of beer with some painkillers. Dean couldn't keep his eyes off of her or the baby. He followed her every moment and watched as she handed the pills and beer to Sam.

"I'm glad you know you had it coming." She patted his good arm. He chuckled shaking his head. "I'll arrange some food." Y/n said leaving the room. She laid Adeline in the crib in her room and made her way into the kitchen.

Sam avoided looking at Dean and the older Winchester was shooting glares at his brother. Dean was angry, sad, disappointed and heartbroken. He finds out that his brother has been alive for a whole year and he apparently has a daughter too. He couldn't take it any longer and rushed out the back door to clear his head. Sam followed behind him.

"Dean wait." He called out.

"She's mine, isn't she?" Dean stopped and turned to face Sam who looked away. "Dammit Sam answer me."

"Yeah." Sam replied.

"And you've known all this time?"

"I did but-"

"But what Sammy?" Dean yelled. "What could you possibly say to make it better? My brother who I thought was dead has been here the whole time, and now i find that I have a daughter, who I had no idea existed until this day?" Tears were pooling in Dean's eyes and he didn't care at this point.

"I told you Dean I didn't want to ruin what you have. And as for Addy," Sam sighed. "I didn't even know it happened between you two. Y/n said it happened once and it was mistake."

"She said what?" Dean recoiled. "It wasn't a mistake and it certainly didn't happen only once." He growled, now his grief turning into anger.

"What?" Sam exclaimed.

"Why didn't you tell me Sam? I could've had what I so desperately wanted." Dean cried, hurt that his brother kept such a huge secret from him.

"She made me promise not to tell you." Sam confessed.

"Why?"

"I don't know, when I came back she asked her if I met you and I told her I did see you but you were with Lisa and I didn't want to ruin that. When she told me she was pregnant and it's yours I told her to tell you but she told me that you deserve to have a normal life with the woman you love and not some...." Sam paused not whether to continue or not.

"Some what Sam?"

"Some good lay and..a child made out of it." Sam whispered lowly, he wasn't even sure if Dean heard him. This broke Dean's heart and he wasn't sure if he could ever piece it back together.

"That woman is a not some good lay, she's the love of my life, Sam. I was pathetically in love with her. I still am." Dean said with his head in his hands.

"You told her the world doesn't revolves around her."

"I know what I said, damn it. I just wanted her to be safe. I knew she wouldn't have left had I not told her all that. I thought if our plan was to fail, at-least she'd be away from all this. She'd be safe. And if it went well, I would go back to her, tell her everything and keep her safe with me until my last breath. But you made me promise. I kept my promise and I left and I never looked back." Dean breathed heavily.

"Dean... I had no idea. I am so sorry. I wish I hadn't... God this is all my fault, I have to make this right." Sam blamed himself and that's the last thing Dean wanted.

"It's not your fault Sam. You just wanted to die in peace." Dean made a failed attempt to ease the tension.

Y/n was in the kitchen when she heard someone clear their throat. She turned to see Lisa standing in the doorway.

"I hope Ben like sandwiches, I don't know much cooking." She said as she placed the ingredients on the counter.

"He likes them.." Lisa said joining to help her with the preparations.

"I can see why he loves you." Y/n said as she watched Lisa work effortlessly and still look amazing.

"Yeah but he's in love with you." She replied without looking at her.

"Rubbish." Y/n waved her off with her hand. "I think you're still tired from the long drive."

"It's the truth. I've lived with Dean for a year now, you're his waking thought and his dream." Lisa said softly. "I think i know more about you than you know yourself." The woman added with a smile.

"Don't you love him?" Y/n bit her lip. Her asking this question was showing a sign that she still cared about Dean as much as she shouldn't.

"He's a dear friend." Lisa replied vaguely. Loud footsteps were heard as Ben entered the kitchen looking for his mom.

Sam and Dean came back inside and Dean locked eyes with y/n for the first time since he came here. He wants to hate her for keeping his daughter a secret from him but one look at her and he's a puddle, willing to do anything she wants him to do.

"We need to talk." Dean said to y/n.

"I believe there is nothing to talk." Y/n replied without wavering.

"Its your choice, you talk to me while I'm asking nicely or I drag you out, because we're talking either way." Dean said keeping eye contact.

"You watch how you speak to me, Winchester. My gun still has five bullets." She replied. She knew she had to have this conversation at any point in her life, she was hoping she had more time. She let out a loud sigh before speaking, "Ben, honey can you go up and watch Adeline for me?" She asked the eleven year old boy. And he nodded happily running upstairs.

"Now you talk." Y/n ordered Dean, who turned around and walked to the main room. She rolled her eyes and followed him. "I don't have time for your bullshit so if you could get on with it before Adeline wakes up, I'd appreciate it." She snapped as he kept his back to her.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He turned to her, his face red.

"Tell you what?"

"About our daughter! Don't act dumb."

"She's my daughter." Y/n sneered. Sam and Lisa watched from the side. "Why do you even care? You didn't care a year ago."

"I.. how can you even say that. She's my daughter too. You had no right to keep her from me."

"Yeah right." Y/n scoffed. "What did you want to me do, Dean? After you pushed me away time and time again. Did you expect me to get on my knees and beg you to stay?" She said raising her voice. "You left. You left when I needed you the most." She felt a lump forming in her throat and she knew the waterworks were on the way. "You left me at the cemetery without a word. How do you think it made me feel?"

"I'm sorry i left, had you told me about Adeline I would've never..-"

"I don't need your pity, Dean. Nor does my daughter." She yelled. "You had a choice. And you left." She felt a tear drop down her cheek as much as she hated to cry in-front of him she couldn't hold it in.

At that moment Dean hated himself. He never knew he could be this weak. He watched Y/n look so broken, exhausted. It was as if sadness has etched itself on her face permanently.

"Cas told me I was pregnant when we got back from Carthage." Dean's eyes widened as the revelation. "That's why I asked to sit out when you guys decided to hit the road. I thought I'd tell you when you'd come back. But when you did you said awful things to me, Dean. It broke my heart." She gasped taking in a deep breath as cried. "I knew it was a hard time for us with everything happening. When I arrived at Detroit I thought maybe, just maybe things could be different but..." She didn't continue, everyone knows what happened in Detroit.

"I'm sorry, you have to believe me when I say I would've stayed.." Dean's eyes watered.

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Dean. I was scared, every night I was scared for my daughter's life because I didn't have the luxury to sleep peacefully and pretend that's nothing out there. Even the rustling of leaves would wake me up at night." She cried.

"I wish i could turn back time, i would do it a heartbeat. You know that." He cried. He knows he doesn't have the right to feel bad about himself but he couldn't help it.

"I'd do it too. If i could turn back time I'd do it and never associate myself with you."

"You don't mean that." Dean whispered, his voice almost begging her to take it back.

"I do." She looked him in the eye, even though her vision was blurred. "Even for a second if we forget that Addy exists, you left me when I needed you the most. My best friend jumped into the pit and I felt like my heart had been ripped out from my chest." She was now full on sobbing. "I needed you. I knew nobody could've understood what I felt except you. I dug the ground with my hands until my fingers bled hoping the cage was still there and Sam would come out." She cried holding her hand to her heart as if it pained her physically. "I just wanted you to hold me tell me it'd be alright. We'll figure something out like we always do."

If anyone of them wasn't crying before they were now. They hadn't realised she'd been through so much pain. She's suffered and she was carrying a child. She held on for so long. Lisa's heart ached for the sobbing woman in front of her.

"Y/n." Sam spoke having enough. He needs to clear this out. He can't watch them fight knowing it wasn't any of their fault but his'. "It's my fault."

"Sammy." Dean warned sternly.

"No Dean. It was my fault. Let me do this." Sam replied.

"What do you mean?" Y/n asked looking at Sam.

"After you left I asked Dean to promise that he won't find you. I told him to go live with Lisa." Sam stated.

"Why would you even say that?" She whispered.

"Because i knew if you two had been with each other you'd just find a way to bring me back. Even worse make deals with demons or shit." Sam said holding his head down. "It wasn't his fault y/n, if I'd known he loved you i would've never asked him to leave."

"Dean doesn't love anyone but you." Y/n scoffed and that irked Dean. He could listen to her say the worst things about him but doubting his love for her wasn't something he'd take queitly. He took a few steps towards her and grabbed her arm making her look at him.

"Why're you talking about me as if I'm not here? And how dare you say that?" He growled. "How dare you say I don't love you. You're the only woman I've ever been in love with." He said pulling her closer.

"Some way you've got to show it." She scoffed pulling her arm away. "Alright I agree Sam was in the wrong but you don't get to put the blame on him completely. You took the easy way out."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, his face contorted in anger.

"Oh please, don't be so naive now." She gritted her teeth. "You're acting like you didn't have a choice."

"I didn't..- " Dean started but she interrupted him.

"You were Michael's vessel Dean, you were destined to be a part of that war. You fought tooth and nail, you told the literal angels to shove it up their ass, that you'd never say yes. YOU FOUGHT DESTINY AND YOU'RE SAYING YOU DIDN’T HAVE A CHOICE?" She yelled having enough of his excuses.

Dean knew she was right. There was nothing she said that wasn't true. But he had been scared. Whoever he gets close to gets hurt. He never wanted any of this to happen. If only he had manned up and told everyone how he felt, alot this could've been avoided.

Y/n felt betrayed. Not only by Dean but Sam as well. All her life the only people she considered her family, betrayed her in every way possible. She wondered has she been naive or they were just too good at using people? If Dean loved her as much as he said he did, then why didn't he stay. Heavy footsteps and loud cries filled y/n's ears.

"Y/n, she woke up and started crying." Ben said carrying little Adeline to her mother.

"Thank you for looking after her, sweetheart." She said wiping her tears and taking her baby into her arms. Adeline stopped crying once she was in her mother's arms.

"Are you okay?" Ben asked, oblivious to the tension in the room, standing beside his mother.

"I'm okay." She replied. "Just realised I spent my whole life loving and caring for the Winchesters only to be betrayed by them." She whispered lowly that only the adults could comprehend. She held Adeline up and looked at her face. "I'll have to wait for yours too, it's only a matter of time you do. After all you're a Winchester too." She smiled sadly, breaking Sam and Dean's heart along with her own.

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@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart @hobby27

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