#I know you can't let this drag you down but it's maddening | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eunseoksimp · 1 month ago

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Obsession ; Lee Donghyuck

Pairings: Ex Boyfriend! Donghyuck x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst, smut

Description: trapped in a web of desire and destruction, you find yourself drawn back to donghyuck—a man who thrives on your desperation, wielding your vulnerabilities like weapons for his amusement. he's cold, cruel, and intoxicating, a storm you can't resist even as it tears you apart. torn between guilt and longing, between a love that nurtures and a lust that consumes, you surrender to the chaos, knowing he’ll leave you broken but always coming back for more.

Warnings: donghyuck being your piece of shit ex that you can’t resist, infidelity and questionable morals, fingering, unprotected sex, use of swear words

a/n: it’s been such a long time since i’ve written something, but i saw the dreamies live three weeks ago and i couldn’t get haechan out of my head. also isn't a riize post oops. also trying to slowly ease back in to writing a bit more smut without cringing :)

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“i’m starting to think you’re enjoying this a lot more than you let on,” he drawls, his voice a velvet blade, cutting through the fragile resolve you tried to muster.

what could you say? what excuse could possibly justify why you always found yourself drawn back here, like a moth courting the flame it once swore to avoid?

the door swings open, and there he stands, the glow from the hallway casting a golden halo over his sharp features—a devil in disguise. his lips curl into that infuriatingly lazy smile, a smirk that teeters on the edge of arrogance and amusement, gaze raking over you, deliberate and slow, before his fingers loop around your wrist and pull you inside.

the warmth of his touch shoots through you, a traitorous shiver trailing in its wake and he catches it, of course, his smirk widening, as you practically feel the weight of his ego swelling in the confined space.

nine months. nine months since you stormed out of this very apartment, every door slam echoing your hurt, every bitter word hanging in the air like a ghost. you had left him, shattered and raw, swearing it was the last time. yet, here you were—cruel fate, or perhaps just your own weakness, leading you back to the scene of your undoing.

“shut up, hyuck,” you murmur, keeping your gaze firmly anchored to the floor. even now, you can’t bring yourself to meet those molten eyes, the ones that always seem to see right through you.

“cute,” he muses, his tone dripping with mockery. “you think pretending to hate this will make cheating on your boyfriend any easier to justify?”

the words hit like a lash, shame igniting across your skin. but then he moves, closing the space between you with the ease of a predator circling prey. each step is deliberate, calculated, until your back hits the edge of his marble countertop, the cold surface seeping through your clothes, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from him.

his hands settle on the small of your back, the grip firm but not harsh, like he knows he doesn’t need force to reel you in. his touch drags you forward, and your breath catches as the cool metal of his rings presses against your sides, tracing small, maddening circles.

shame courses through you like a tidal wave, bitter and suffocating, but it’s no match for the inferno he stokes within you. desire, hot and all-consuming, rises to meet his touch, stealing the air from your lungs as he tilts his head, lips ghosting dangerously close to yours.

in this moment, your body betrays you completely, leaning into his pull, despite the fractured pieces of your conscience screaming in protest.

and he knows. god, he knows.

“look at me,” hyuck’s voice is a low, deliberate murmur, the kind of sound that slithers down your spine and pools in your stomach. his lips hover near the shell of your ear, the heat of his breath prickling your skin. your fingers dig into the edge of the table, the hard wood biting into your palms as you fight the tremor threatening to buckle your knees.

you don’t dare obey. you know better than to meet his gaze—those dark, magnetic eyes that have always been your undoing. one look, and you’d be lost. he’d have you exactly where he wanted, and like the fool you are, you’d let him.

instead, you shake your head in protest, squeezing your eyes shut as if that flimsy barrier could shield you from the pull of him. you don’t see it—the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips, the way that wicked grin carves its way across his face, sharp as a blade and twice as dangerous.

and then you feel it.

his hand wraps around your neck, firm and unrelenting, his grip just enough to force your eyes to fly open. a gasp tears from your lips, sharp and startled, as you’re dragged back into his orbit.

“you know I hate asking twice, angel,” he says, his voice dripping with mock sweetness, though the pressure of his hand tightens ever so slightly. your pulse throbs wildly against his palm, and you hate—hate—the way it echoes the same rhythm pounding between your thighs.

he sees it all. knows it all. and the glint in his eyes says as much.

as if to drive the point home, hyuck pulls you closer by the neck, erasing the last sliver of distance between you. his gaze doesn’t waver, locked on yours like a predator reveling in its prey’s surrender.

“but of course,” he purrs, his lips curling into a smirk that’s pure sin, “you probably like making me have to bend you to my will.”

you can’t speak. whether it’s from the pressure of his hand around your neck or the weight of his question, you’re not sure. but deep down, you know the real reason—the truth festering in the corners of your mind that you could never bring yourself to admit.

how could you say it aloud? that you relished this? that the chaos he stirred in you, the reckless abandon he ignited, was something no one else could replicate? certainly not your sweet, dependable boyfriend.

your boyfriend. the thought flickers briefly, like a distant beacon you don’t really want to follow. he was kind, attentive, always answering your texts with care, never vanishing into thin air to “enjoy the night” or leaving you second-guessing yourself.

he was everything hyuck wasn’t. and yet, here you were.

because there was something about hyuck—the way he upended your calm, the way his unpredictability set every nerve in your body alight. you knew the butterflies in your stomach weren’t some romantic thrill but a warning, your body screaming danger. yet, you ran toward it anyway, like a ship steering straight into the storm.

you’d leave your boyfriend’s place with flimsy excuses—work, errands, anything to mask the truth—and find yourself here, wrapped in donghyuck’s intoxicating pull.

donghyuck, with his honey-brown skin that seemed to glow in the dimmest light. donghyuck, with his dark hair falling just so, framing those piercing eyes that stripped you bare, laying your soul out for him to toy with. no one else had ever reached you like this—peeling back layers you didn’t even know existed, exposing raw emotions you didn’t know how to hide.

and he knew it. of course he did. that’s why he’d send you pictures of other girls he was hooking up with—deliberate, cruel, knowing exactly what it would do to you. he fed on your reactions, thrived on them, wielding them like a blade. and like the masochist you were, you let him. you always let him.

“enlighten me,” he taunts now, his lips curling into that smug, wolfish grin. “why is it you keep showing up at my door, hmm?”

“i thought you told me you found everything you deserved in him.”

his voice is low, teasing, but there’s an edge to it, sharp enough to cut. he knows the answer, of course. he always does. but he wants to hear it fall from your lips, to drag the truth from you as if it’ll make his triumph all the sweeter.

“words, angel. i need you to use them,” he coos, his mockery wrapped in honey. his lips purse into a feigned pout, as though this were some mundane conversation, as though his fingers weren’t still wrapped firmly around your neck, holding you in place.

“i-i…” the words stumble from your mouth, fractured and useless. the dizziness comes next—a hazy swirl from the weight of his grip, but worse, the heat that floods your body as his lips descend.

they graze your neck, soft yet deliberate, each kiss a spark igniting a trail of fire beneath your skin. goosebumps erupt in his wake, your body betraying you yet again. you head tilts of its own accord, baring your throat to him as if in surrender.

and hyuck? he chuckles softly against your skin, low and smug, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“so eager for me. i wonder,” hyuck murmurs, his voice a silken blade that slices through the last of your composure, “if you’re this pliant for sungchan.”

the name lands like a blow, a reminder of the person you’ve betrayed in your spiral back to hyuck’s clutches. your breath hitches, eyes squeezing shut as the sting of guilt prickles behind them.

you bite down hard on your lip, desperate to stifle the sob building in your throat. what kind of person does this? what kind of girlfriend are you, when your body—traitorous and weak—only seems to come alive for him?

a single tear escapes, tracing a slow, shameful path down your cheek. hyuck’s low chuckle follows, dark and knowing. the click of his tongue reverberates through you, his enjoyment as palpable as the air that thrums with tension.

he releases your neck, his hands sliding up to cradle your face instead, his thumb swiping away the tear with a tenderness so contradictory it makes your chest ache.

“don’t cry, silly girl,” he croons, his tone both mocking and saccharine. “i already know the answer to that question.”

you try to look away, but his grip keeps you steady, his gaze locking onto yours with the kind of intensity that burns.

“of course you don’t,” he continues, his lips curving into a smirk that doesn’t reach his eyes. “nobody knows how to make you feel this way but me. that’s why you keep coming back.” he leans in closer, his words brushing your skin like an intimate caress.

“isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

your resistance crumbles under the weight of his words. against your better judgment, your eyes meet his, truly meet them, for the first time tonight. you take him in, every detail. the dark flecks in his irises, the scattered moles you once traced with your fingertips, the way his hair falls a little longer now, grazing his lashes.

your heart slams against your ribs, a violent rhythm that feels too loud, too desperate. you swallow hard, unable to tear your gaze away as your eyes trail down, drinking him in like you’re parched and he’s the only thing that could ever quench you.

god, he hasn’t changed. not a bit. he still burns with that same maddening allure, that magnetic pull that sets your world ablaze. the fire he ignites in your stomach roars to life, an uncontrollable inferno that only he seems capable of sparking.

and that’s the most terrifying part of all.

you’ve tried to move on, tried to fill the void he left behind with someone kind, someone stable. but it was all in vain. every attempt to leave him behind had been futile. every lie you told yourself unraveled the moment you stepped back into his orbit.

because no matter how much you pretended, no matter how much you wanted to believe otherwise, some part of you—the most vulnerable, broken part—would always belong to him.

the silence between you is unbearable, charged with the kind of tension that tightens around your chest like a vice. his thumb lingers on your cheek, dragging slow circles as if savoring the tear he just wiped away. his gaze, dark and piercing, drinks in every crack in your composure, but there’s no softness in his eyes—only cold amusement.

“you’ve always been so predictable,” hyuck says, his voice as smooth and sharp as a blade. “throwing yourself at the things you know will ruin you. it’s almost pathetic, angel.”

your breath hitches, and his smirk deepens, smug and unrelenting as his hand drops to your throat again, holding you in place. his grip isn’t tight—yet—but the promise of his strength makes your knees tremble. you wish you could deny the power he has over you, but the truth is in the way your body responds to every word, every touch.

“maybe,” you manage to whisper, though your voice wavers under his scrutiny. “maybe i like the way it feels to fall.”

he lets out a low laugh, humorless and biting. “oh, i know you do. that’s why you’re here. why you always come crawling back.”

his hand slides down to your collarbone, then lower, the heat of his touch searing through your clothes. his eyes rake over you, slow and deliberate, like you’re nothing more than something to be dissected, picked apart piece by piece.

“you’re just so easy to break,” he continues, his lips curling into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “always so eager to let me destroy you.”

your fingers twist into his shirt, your grip trembling as you try to ground yourself, but it only seems to fuel his cruel amusement. his free hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it free with a force that feels more like a warning than a rejection.

“look at you,” he says, tilting his head as if observing something trivial. “you don’t even try to hide how much you like this, do you?”

the sting of his words slices through you, but shame only tightens the knot of desire in your stomach. he knows it—sees it in the way your lips part, the way your chest rises and falls as you fight for composure, how you’re struggling to clench your thighs together.

“say it,” he demands, his grip tightening on your wrist as he yanks you closer, his voice a low growl in your ear. “admit it. admit that no one else can make you feel like this.”

you want to fight, to cling to some shred of dignity, but it’s useless. he’s already unraveled you, stripped you bare, and he knows it.

“i hate you,” you whisper, but even to your own ears, it sounds like a plea.

he barks out a laugh, sharp and mocking. “liar,” he spits, before his lips crash into yours.

the kiss is rough, bruising, a clear reminder of how little control you have. his hands are relentless, sliding over your body like he’s claiming you, like every inch of you belongs to him alone. and in this moment, it does.

the counter digs into your back as he presses you harder against it, his grip firm and unyielding. your fingers claw at his shoulders, desperate to find something to hold onto, but he doesn’t care. you’re nothing more than a toy in his hands, a distraction to pass the time.

when he finally pulls back, his eyes are cold, calculating as they search your face. he doesn’t need to say anything to remind you of your place—you see it in the smug curve of his lips, the way his gaze lingers like he’s already grown bored.

“see? that wasn’t so hard,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with condescension as his thumb brushes your bottom lip.

“you always give in eventually. it’s almost too easy.”

your chest heaves as you try to steady your breathing, your head spinning from the intensity of him.

to him, you’re nothing more than a game. a way to stroke his ego, to remind himself of the control he wields. and yet, despite knowing that, you still find yourself reaching for him, your fingers grazing his arm as if you can’t bear to let go.

hyuck chuckles, low and derisive, before shaking his head. “pathetic,” he says, the word cutting deep, but you don’t flinch.

because he’s right. And you hate how much you like it.

“hyuck—” your voice cracks, trailing off as your fingers clutch at the hem of his tank top again. the fabric is soft but stretched taut in your grip, an anchor in the storm of your own undoing. you tug him closer, your hands trembling, though whether it’s from desperation or shame, you can’t be sure.

“what?” he drawls lazily, his voice dripping with mockery. “what do you need from me, princess?”

the nickname isn’t affectionate. it’s laced with condescension, a sharp reminder of how thoroughly he has you wrapped around his finger. you can feel the weight of his gaze, studying you like a specimen caught under glass, a plaything meant only to amuse him.

and you hate yourself for the way it thrills you.

hyuck tilts his head slightly, feigning ignorance, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrays him. he knows why you’re here—of course he does. this is his game, after all. you’re just the piece he maneuvers however he pleases.

“come on,” he presses, his voice smooth and teasing, like a predator drawing out its prey. “you’ve got something to say, don’t you?”

your breath hitches, your chest rising and falling as you try to force words past the lump in your throat. but all you can manage is a shaky, “hyuck, please.”

his smirk widens, and the way his eyes gleam—dark, triumphant—makes your stomach churn with both desire and self-loathing. “please,” he echoes, as though the word tastes foreign on his tongue. “you’re so weak. you can’t even say what you want, can you?”

the sting of his words leaves you breathless, but it only tightens the knot of longing in your chest, and most importantly between your thighs. you’ve walked willingly into this trap, after all.

this is what he does—feeds on your vulnerability, siphons every ounce of emotion you have to give, leaving you hollow and craving more.

he closes the sliver of space between you, his shadow swallowing you whole. his eyebrow arches, the picture of bored indifference.

“you’re an adult,” he snaps, his tone sharp enough to cut. “start acting like one. if you want something, you better speak.“

your grip on his shirt tightens as you stare up at him, trembling under the weight of his presence. the cruel set of his jaw, the way he looks at you like you’re nothing more than a toy he hasn’t finished playing with—it shouldn’t excite you the way it does. but it does. god, it does.

you take another deep breath, trying to piece together a coherent thought, but your mind is a blur, your words caught somewhere between your heart and the tightening ache in your stomach. he’s watching you unravel, his gaze cold and calculating, like he’s already grown bored of this moment and is waiting for you to catch up.

“hyuck,” you whisper again, though it’s more of a whimper now, your voice trembling as you meet his eyes.

he chuckles, low and derisive, the sound reverberating through you like a pulse. “that’s it?” he taunts, his hand shooting out to grasp your wrist. his fingers curl around it firmly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that you’re his for the taking.

“all that begging and you can’t even tell me what you want? what a waste of my time.”

his hand moves, gliding from your wrist to the base of your throat, his thumb resting just below your jaw. he tilts your chin up, forcing your gaze back to his, his smirk cruel and unwavering.

“let me guess,” he says, his tone mocking as his eyes trace over your face.

“you want me to ruin you, don’t you?” his voice slithers through the air, coiling around you like a noose.

your breath caught in your throat, chest rising and falling in uneven gasps as his eyes bore into you—dark, sharp, dissecting every inch of your trembling frame. the room felt impossibly small, the air heavy with the weight of his presence, thick and suffocating, like you were drowning in him.

“you want me to take every last shred of dignity you have,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin, “and destroy it.”

the words hung in the air, a challenge, a promise, a sentence. you felt the floor beneath you disappear, the groundlessness of your own desire swallowing you whole. the ache inside you was unbearable, raw and clawing, a hunger that could only be sated by him.

he tilted his head, watching the way you trembled, the way your lips parted without sound, as if your body couldn’t keep up with the hurricane of emotion ripping through you. his smirk deepened, cruel and predatory, as though he were feeding off the desperation radiating from you, drinking it in like nectar.

“do you see yourself?” he sneered, dragging the back of his knuckles down the curve of your jaw, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the way you leaned into his touch despite his words. “allit takes is a few words, and you’re already falling apart for me.”

your voice faltered, your throat tightening as shame and longing tangled into one insidious knot. he knew exactly what he was doing, dangling you on a string like some pitiful marionette, pulling at your every weakness with precision, unraveling you with his callous control.

you craved the way he broke you down, stripped you of everything you thought you were until all that remained was your raw, unfiltered need for him. it was dangerous, maddening, addictive. the fire in his eyes burned too brightly, and yet you leaned closer, knowing it would consume you.

“say it,” he pressed, his hand cupping your chin now, forcing your gaze upward to meet his. his grip was firm, unyielding, and the dominance in his stare made you feel as though he could see every fragile piece of you, exposed and laid bare.

“say you want me to ruin you.”

You swallowed hard, shuddering, your chest heaving as you try to steady yourself, but it’s no use. you’re already undone, every wall you’ve built crumbled to dust at his feet.

“i—” you start, but the words die on your tongue as his grip tightens slightly, just enough to make you gasp.

“speak, princess,” he sneers, his smirk widening. “if you can’t even do that, stop wasting what little patience i have left for you.”

the cruel dominance in his tone makes your head spin, your body betraying you as heat blooms in your core. you hate him. you hate how easily he breaks you, how effortlessly he pulls you apart. but more than that, you hate how much you need this. need him.

“i want- i want you to ruin me. love it,” you finally manage to choke out, your voice barely audible. tears prick at your eyes, but you don’t care. he’s already seen every ugly, vulnerable part of you. there’s nothing left to hide. “i love the way you ruin me.”

hyuck’s smirk sharpens, his satisfaction rolling off him in waves. “good girl,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your lips. “you’re learning.”

he tilts his head, his smirk curving into something sharp and predatory. His fingers trail down your jaw, the cool press of his rings sending shivers through you.

his touch is light, teasing, but there’s nothing tender about it. every motion feels calculated, designed to make you unravel just a little bit more.

“you’ll say anything I want, won’t you?” he murmurs, his voice low and condescending. “you’d do anything just to keep me interested. it’s disgusting.”

“you hate yourself for it, don’t you?” he continues, leaning in until his lips are just a breath away from your ear. “hate the way you keep coming back. like a moth to a flame. like you don’t know you’re going to get burned.”

you can’t answer, can’t even look at him. your head dips, but he catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing your gaze back to his. his eyes are dark, devoid of warmth, but the power they hold over you is suffocating.

“you think you’re special?” he asks, his tone almost amused. “that i actually care about you? that i lose a single second of sleep wondering if you’ll come back?”

“i know what you are,” he says, his voice soft but laced with venom. “you’re nothing without me. just a sad little thing, begging for scraps of attention.

“is that why you keep coming back, hmm? because no one else would put up with how pathetic you are?”

you flinch, the tears threatening to spill again, but his smirk only deepens, pleased with how easily he can manipulate your emotions. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, tracing it slowly, almost mockingly.

“cry all you want,” he murmurs, leaning in just enough for his breath to ghost across your face. “it won’t change anything. you’ll still be here, won’t you? letting me do whatever i want. because you can’t help yourself.”

“hyuck,” you whisper, the sound of his name barely audible. your voice shakes, and you hate how desperate you sound, but the way his eyes glint with satisfaction tells you he loves it.

“what is it, angel?” he mocks, tilting his head as if he’s genuinely curious. “tell me what you want. use your words like a big girl.”

you bite down on your lip, struggling to force the words out. Your mind is a mess, every coherent thought drowned out by the sheer presence of him—overwhelming, suffocating, intoxicating.

“say it,” he demands again, his tone hardening as his hand drops to your throat, the pressure just enough to make you gasp.

“i want you,” you finally choke out, your voice breaking. “i want—”

he cuts you off with a laugh, sharp and cruel, as if the mere idea of you wanting him is a joke. “of course you do,” he says, his grip tightening slightly.

“you always want me. no matter how many times i push you away, no matter how many times I remind you that you’re nothing to me, you come crawling back. like a good little toy.”

you squeeze your eyes shut.

“open your eyes,” he commands, his tone cold and unwavering.

you hesitate, but his hand tightens around your throat, and your eyes snap open instantly. His face is so close now that you can see every detail—the sharp lines of his jaw, the faint shadow of stubble, the glint of malice in his eyes.

“good girl,” he says, the words dripping with mockery as his thumb brushes over your pulse. “you’re so easy to control. so desperate to be wanted, you’ll let me do whatever i want, won’t you?”

you nod, your breath hitching, and his smirk widens.

his other hand trails down your side, his touch firm and possessive. the room feels hotter now, the air thick with tension as he presses his body against yours, pinning you against the counter. his gaze never wavers, holding you captive as he takes in every crack in your resolve.

“you don’t even care that this is going to destroy you,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his smirk curling into something sharper, more dangerous. “you just want to feel something, don’t you? even if it ruins you.”

he’s right. you can’t deny it, can’t fight the truth in his words. no one else makes you feel this way—alive, raw, completely undone.

“my room. now.” his voice cuts through the charged air, sharp and commanding, leaving no room for hesitation.

he doesn’t bother sparing you another glance, already turning on his heel as if your compliance is a foregone conclusion. of course, it is.

you scramble to follow, nearly tripping over yourself in your rush to keep up with his lazy, unhurried strides. the disparity in your urgency and his indifference couldn’t be more stark, and it only serves to amplify the tight coil of tension in your chest.

there’s no warmth in the way he looks back at you—if he even bothers to look at all. he doesn’t need to. he knows you’ll follow, knows you’ll stumble through fire and glass just to stay close enough to bask in his shadow.

it’s dehumanising, and yet you can’t stop. you don’t want to stop.

your breath comes shallow and quick, anticipation crackling in the air around you like a live wire. the hallway feels endless, every heavy footfall echoing in the suffocating silence. it’s all-consuming, this quiet, and it does nothing to mask the way your heart hammers against your ribs or the way your palms tremble.

hyuck barely spares a thought for your clumsy attempts to keep pace, his hands shoved casually into the pockets of his sweatpants. if anything, he seems amused by how desperate you are to match his rhythm, your starry-eyed eagerness practically oozing from your every movement.

“you’re really just a pitiful thing, aren’t you,” he mutters under his breath, the words low and dismissive, but it hits you like a freight train nonetheless.

when he finally reaches the doorway to his room, he doesn’t pause. he pushes the door open with a careless shove, the motion so casual it’s as if he hasn’t already consumed every one of your thoughts, hasn’t already rendered you into this trembling, obedient shell of yourself.

he strides inside without looking back, leaving you lingering at the threshold for a heartbeat too long. the hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed.

“are you just going to stand there?” his voice is sharp, laced with irritation, as he glances back over his shoulder. The way his lips curl into a faint smirk is a silent dare. “or do you need me to drag you in, too?”

the air feels thinner now, harder to breathe, as you finally step inside. the door clicks shut behind you with an unnervingly loud finality.

“look at you,” he says, turning to face you fully now. His eyes rake over you, slow and deliberate, and it feels less like admiration and more like dissection. like he’s picking you apart piece by piece, savoring every crack in your composure.

“you can barely stand still,” he taunts, his tone thick with mockery.

“what’s got you so worked up, hmm? is it the way i talk to you? the way i remind you just how insignificant you are to me?”

your throat feels tight, your pulse hammering in your ears. but even now, even when he’s baring his cruelty so plainly, you can’t bring yourself to turn away.

hyuck takes a single step forward, the distance between you shrinking until there’s barely a breath of space left. his hand finds your chin again, his grip firm as he tilts your face up to meet his gaze.

“do you even realize how pitiful you look right now?” he murmurs, his smirk twisting into something sharper. “standing here, waiting for me to throw you a bone. it’s almost sad.”

almost. the word lingers, cruel and deliberate, reminding you that whatever scrap of validation he might offer will always come with a price.

but it doesn’t matter, not when his thumb brushes over your lip again, not when his presence feels so overwhelming that you can’t think straight. the shame, the desperation, the sheer exhilaration—it all blends together, until you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

his gaze darkens, his smirk never wavering as he leans in just enough for his breath to ghost over your lips.

“you love being treated like this. like a toy I can pick up and toss aside whenever i feel like it.”

“of course you do,” he says, answering his own question with a laugh that sends a shiver down your spine. “you wouldn’t keep coming back if you didn’t.”

he pulls back slightly, just enough to give you a moment to catch your breath, but the space he leaves feels suffocating in its own way. his hand doesn’t leave your chin, his thumb still resting against your skin as he watches you with a cruel sort of satisfaction.

“go on, then,” he says, his tone light but laced with command. “tell me how much you need me. how much you hate yourself for it.”

and you know he’s enjoying every second of this—the power, the control, the way you’re crumbling under his touch. because for all his apathy, for all his cold detachment, there’s nothing he loves more than watching you fall apart for him.

“i need you,” you whisper, voice trembling as your fingers clutch at his shirt. “please. i want you so badly—please, hyuck.”

the words tumble out of you like a confession, raw and unfiltered, and for a fleeting second, the weight of your own desperation threatens to crush you. but then his laughter cuts through the silence, low and mocking, and it draws your focus back to him.

he leans against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk as he takes you in. your tear-streaked cheeks, the way your chest heaves with shallow breaths, and that reverence in your eyes—it’s intoxicating. you look at him like he’s something divine, something worthy of worship, and he drinks it in like it’s his lifeblood.

“you’re a fucking mess,” he says finally, his voice laced with amusement. “crying, begging—do you know how stupid you look?”

his words are cruel, but his tone is almost light, as if this is all just a game to him. and maybe it is. you can’t be sure anymore, not when he tilts his head to the side and his dark eyes glint with unspoken intent.

“you really can’t help yourself, can you?” he muses, reaching out to swipe a thumb across the wet trail of a tear, his touch deliberate but devoid of any real tenderness.

“such a wretched little thing.”

his hand doesn’t linger, pulling back as quickly as it came, and the absence of his touch feels like a punishment in itself. you shift, uncertain, waiting for him to say something more, to give you some sign of what he’ll do next.

“you’re my stupid girl,” he says, his tone almost conversational, like he’s stating a simple fact. “aren’t you?”

his grip on your chin tightens, just enough to demand your response, and you nod weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“yes.”

his grin is wicked, devoid of anything remotely kind, and he lets go of your chin, stepping back just enough to make you feel the loss. he watches as you sway slightly, unmoored without his touch, and the satisfaction in his expression is unmistakable.

“good. on your back for me, pretty.”

the command, simple and sharp, slices through the tension thickening the room, and relief rushes through you like a flood. you obey instantly, scrambling toward the bed with a clumsy urgency that only feeds his amusement. propping yourself up on your elbows, you inch backward until your shoulders press into the edge of his bedframe, waiting for his next instruction.

hyuck takes his time, leisurely closing the space between you as his dark eyes sweep over your body. his tongue darts out, wetting his lips, and his gaze lingers shamelessly on the curve of your thighs, the hem of your skirt pushed just a little too high, the knee-high socks hugging your legs like they were made to tempt him.

“you’re such a sight,” he says, more to himself than to you, his voice low and edged with a cruel sort of amusement. “and all mine to play with.”

heat blooms across your skin under his scrutiny, but you stay perfectly still, holding your breath as though any sudden movement might break the fragile thread of attention binding you to him.

“you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?” he steps closer, towering over you now, his shadow stretching across your trembling form. the corner of his mouth tilts into a smirk that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“take everything i give you without complaint, right?”

you nod frantically, lips parting to form a shaky affirmation, but he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“words,” he reminds you coldly, his tone clipped. “you know i hate repeating myself angel.”

“yes, hyuck,” you blurt, voice barely above a whisper. “i’ll be good. i’ll take it all.”

satisfaction flickers across his face for a fleeting moment before he leans down, pressing his palms into the mattress on either side of your head. his proximity sends a shiver rippling through you, his scent—clean, sharp, and intoxicating—wrapping around you like a noose.

“no tapping out until i say i’m done.”

the warning in his voice is as sharp as the glint in his eyes, and the way he says it leaves no room for negotiation.

it’s not a question, it’s a sentence, handed down by the man who holds all the power in the room, and you know better than to argue.

“yes,” you whisper, though your voice trembles. “yes, hyuck.”

hyuck doesn’t rush. he takes his time watching you squirm, his fingers tugging at the edge of your skirt as he basks in the control he wields so effortlessly. the corner of his mouth twitches, his smirk deepening as his eyes lock on yours.

his hand reaches out, brushing against the side of your face, his touch deceptively soft as he tilts your chin up.

they trail lower, down further until he stops at your thigh, tapping it once, then twice, watching your face for any reactions.

you try your hardest to stay still, taking heed of his earlier words, knowing that any time you showed your impatience or tried to take the lead would only make things worse.

leaning down, he places a soft kiss on your stomach, before placing several more down the expense of your thighs. it’s torture, having him so close to where you wanted him to be, yet still too far.

“you’re getting better at being patient for me, aren’t you angel?”

you nod, sucking in a harsh gasp as he uses his middle finger to pull at the hem of your panties, as he slowly slid them down till they stopped mid thigh.

stupidly, your cheeks heat up as you feel embarrassed as the way hyuck’s gaze rakes over your bare skin, hungry even, as he positions himself between you, your legs encompassing his broader frame.

without warning he plunged a finger inside of you, not caring to take off his rings because he knew you liked it like that, the edge of the metals soothing your burning cunt.

you cried out his name, fingers clutching the sheets as a way to anchor yourself against donghyuck’s viscous attacks. the spontaneous addition of his tongue only intensified your pleasure, and he worked hard to make sure your body stayed planted on his mattress.

the truth was, sungchan was too soft when it came to having sex with you. he was always too concerned with not hurting you, taking things excruciatingly slow as he constantly checked up on you, asking if you were okay, pressing soft kisses all over your body.

he was the complete opposite to hyuck who so violently used your body like it was nothing more than a ragdoll to him, bending and moulding you to his liking, throwing you around and treating you like nothing.

even now, you shudder as he adds another finger licking and sucking on your cunt as if starved, making your toes curl and your fingers card through his hair.

it’s embarrassing how fast you feel yourself approach the edge, the tell tale sales making themself more apparent as you moan pathetically, your senses on overdrive.

“you wanna cum?”

“please —fuck— please please please. i’ve —shit — been such a good, such a good girl.”

“good girls don’t fuck their exes while their boyfriends wait at home. you’re not a good girl, you’re a cock drunk whore,” you clench around his fingers at his harsh words, another pathetic moan escaping your lips.

“yours—shit— your whore.”

the grin that breaks out in hyuck’s face is so wide yet so delicious as he adds a third finger, your whines only spurring him on as he uses his thumb to trace circles on your clit.

one particular thrust has your head thrown back against the pillows, your hands instinctively reaching out to his wrist, the pleasure becoming unbearable.

“that’s the spot, isn’t it baby?”

“oh hyuck– fuck it feels so so good.”

you’re incoherent, the only thing on your mind is chasing the delicious orgasm burning in your lower stomach. thoughts of sungchan have been pushed so far back in your mind, your own selfish release tainting you.

“yes– yes– yes,” you’re chanting, your words slurring as you buck your hips to the pace of hyuck’s feelings that piston in and out of your dripping core, legs already shaking uncontrollably until you scream out his name, gushing all over his fingers as your thighs trap his hand.

“look at all this mess you made slut,” he doesn’t seem to care much about your sensitivity of having just orgasmed, collecting your juices with his fingers, spreading them all around your lower body, as if he were painting on a canvas.

“i’m not even close to being done with you,” he tells you once he’s done, tugging his shirt off with one hand, hastily reaching for the drawstring of his sweatpants as he discards of them somewhere near the foot of his bed.

It had only been two weeks since hyuck had last been inside you, but staring at the heavy bulge protruding through his boxers, you knew the stretch would burn all the same.

as he grabs a hold of your ankles in his hands, you can’t help the eagerness spread so obviously on your feautures- biting down on your lip as you look up at him through your eyelashes.

like a habit your hands hold onto his thighs, your eyes trained on his cock as he holds the base of it, so dangerously close to your welcoming, wet pussy.

as much as he ridiculed you—mocked you for being the desperate little thing you were, so consumed by lust and your filthy cravings that you discarded every shred of dignity—there was a flicker of something untamed beneath his carefully crafted exterior.

hyuck prided himself on being detached, the puppet master pulling your strings for his amusement, but even he couldn’t entirely deny the rush that coursed through him as he looked down at you now. the sight of you, flushed and trembling, your ruin written all over your tear-streaked face, did something to him. something primal.

you were his creation. his masterpiece. every tremor in your limbs, every shaky breath, every ounce of humiliation and need—you wore it like a brand, and he was the one who burned it into you.

and that knowledge? it fed something dark inside him, a satisfaction so raw it was almost animalistic.

be tilted his head, the smirk on his lips widening as his eyes roamed over you again, slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every second.

“look at you,” he drawled, voice dripping with derision. “you don’t even know how filthy you look right now, do you?”

your lips parted to respond, but no sound came out, just a shaky exhale that betrayed every effort to keep yourself composed.

he chuckled, low and cold, the sound curling around you like a chain and you feel a shudder wracking through you at his words.

“that’s right,” he murmured, his voice dipping lower, his smirk twisting into something cruel. “you’re mine. no grace, no dignity, no self-respect—just a pretty little mess for me to destroy over and over again.”

“you ready for me princess?”

you nod, heart leaping out of your chest in anticipation, throbbing as the tip taps on your clit twice.

as he pushes in you can’t help but screw your eyes close, the feeling euphoric as he sinks in. your legs automatically come around his waist and his hands reach up to cup your breast, squeezing them between his palms, his thumb rubbing over your sensitive bud.

but he knows how you really like it, and so both hands dance up your body till they stop at your neck. he squeezes, hard enough at first to knock the wind out of you, delighting in the way your moans now come out in breathless squeals as he drives himself impossibly deeper into you.

He reached out, fingers grazing your jawline before gripping your chin, forcing your head up until you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His touch was firm but cold, an unyielding reminder of who held all the power here.

“i could tell you to walk out that door right now,” he said, his thumb brushing over your trembling bottom lip, “and we both know you wouldn’t make it five steps. you’d be back before you even reached the elevator.”

you whimpered, the sound pitiful, but it only made his grin widen, his amusement at your weakness as sharp as a blade, revelling in the way you were falling undone on his cock.

“say it,” he demanded, voice low and commanding. “tell me why you’re here. why you keep sneaking off from your boyfriend.”

“b-because i— fuck” you stammered, your words catching in your throat as tears pricked at your eyes again, feeling him so deep inside of you that you were sure he would leave a mark, the tip kissing your cervix so deliciously.

“because you need me,” he finished for you, his tone dripping with mockery. “say it, angel. i want to hear you admit it.”

your breath hitched, shame warring with the unbearable heat pooling in your stomach and the way he lifts your legs and lazily throws them over your shoulders.

“i- i need, i need you,” you whispered, the words so soft they barely reached your own ears, any morsel of strength dissipating.

“of course you do,” he murmured, the satisfaction in his voice undeniable. “you need me to tell you what to do. yo remind you what you are.”

“he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as his hand slid lower, skimming the edge of your waist as his nails dug into the plump flesh, eliciting a hiss from your lips at the cocktail of pleasure and pain.

“a toy,” he continued, his voice a velvet whip. “something for me to use when i’m bored. isn’t that right?”

you swallowed hard, tears slipping down your cheeks as the last vestiges of your pride crumbled beneath his words.

“yes,” you choked out, your voice raw and broken.

“i’m your stupid toy. stupid slut, stupid toy,” your words are garbled, hardly making sense as he kisses up your neck, feeling dizzy as his hair tickled your skin, the sweet smell of his cologne mixed with sweat invading your senses.

he pulled back just enough to look at you again, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction.

“sweet angel,” he said, the praise cutting as it was rewarding. his thumb swiped at a stray tear, his smirk softening into something even more chilling.

“now let’s see if you’re as obedient as you claim to be.”

the night stretched painfully as hyuck pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you, cruelly making you keep score, and rewarding you with a harsh slap to the cheek if you were wrong.

you were writhing in his hold, your hands feebly pushing against his pelvis as you reached the climax yet again, swallowing shallowly as you will yourself to manually breathe.

“good slut, there you go. how many was that?” he makes no effort to stop to help you catch your breath and your eyes gloss over, and your mouth lolls open, the feeling of being filled so well too much for your brain to handle.

a stinging pain accompanies your right cheek as punishment for not answering hyuck’s previous question and he flips you over on your stomach, plunging into you without warning.

“dumb sluts so fucked out she can’t even use her fucking mouth,” he enunciates every word with each thrust, your thighs quivering as you bury your head into the sheets.

you had no more intelligible answers to any of hyuck’s words, brain turned to mush as the sound of skin slapping together becomes overbearing.

“too – fuck – too much – can’t– fuck please hyuck,” you whine, tears spilling from your eyes as you try to find strength to speak.

“what was that? you want more’” he’s cruel in the way he lifts you up by your neck till your body is plush against his own, the new angle only making your eyes roll back even further.

“i don’t give a fuck about how you feel. i’ll be finished when i decide i’m done with you, so be a good cum slut and take it all.”

he presses a kiss to your temple before releasing his hold on you, fucking you further into the mattress, your whole body quivering as your face screws tight.

it feels like you could snap at any moment, your body so frail and limp, as the only thing that keeps you from collapsing in a heap on hyuck’s bed is the firm grip he has on your hips.

“fuck.. pussy’s sucking me in so deep, it’s practically made for me,” he groans, the restraint he had been practicing for the last half hour withering, his face screwing at the feeling of your walls hugging his cock unbearably tight, like it didn’t want to let go.

he wanted to push you even further, to keep going until you teetered on the edge of life and death, but he knew he couldn’t last much longer.

he lifts one of your legs up, jackhammering into you with as much force as he could gather, using his strength to keep you in place as he continued to fuck into you.

“fucking take it, useless slut. that’s all you’re good for,” his chest rises and falls, dick twitching at the sight of your head cocked to the side, eyes glimmering from all of your tears as you try to push him away, your body seizing.

“move that fucking hand and take it,” he swats your hand away with ease, deepening your arch as you let out a sharp gasp before your body is convulsing again, your fourth orgasm of the night washing over you with such intensity that hyuck had to hold you up by the waist to stop you from collapsing.

it was hard to keep you in one place as he fucked you through your orgasm, but he’s bigger and stronger than you as he tightens his grip on your body, racing towards his own release.

“gonna fill your pussy till it’s dripping down your thighs. hope that – shit – hope your fucking boyfriend finds out how much of a whore you are.”

his thrusts get choppier as he loses himself to the feral urge to fill you up, to paint your insides pearly white and let the world know who had the ability to ruin you like this.

“yes please – need it – need it please – need it so bad,” a heavy groan rips through donghyuck at your words, thrusting into you a couple more times, pushing himself impossibly deeper inside of you as he pours hot spurts of cum inside of you, overstimulating himself so that it reaches deep before he lets go of you as you fall into a heap on his sheets.

the room felt oppressively quiet now, save for the sound of donghyuck’s soft footsteps as he moved away from the bed. he didn’t look at you, didn’t speak. his attention was already somewhere else, his movements casual, indifferent, like nothing had just happened.

you lay there, sprawled across his sheets, the aftermath of it all still clinging to your skin. your chest heaved as you tried to steady your breathing, but the hollowness in the pit of your stomach made it impossible to feel grounded.

you turned your head, watching as he crossed the room without a backward glance, already flipping the power button on his game console, simply throwing a towel in your direction with an infuriating amount of carelessness.

the screen illuminated the corner of the dark room, and you could hear the familiar chime of the startup music as he slid onto the chair, controller in hand, as though this was just another ordinary evening for him.

for you, though, the silence pressed down harder. the ache in your chest began to mingle with something sharper, something you were too scared to name.

your phone buzzed from the nightstand beside you, pulling you out of your haze. the sound felt jarring in the stillness. turning your head, you reached for it with trembling fingers, watching the screen light up, and the name at the top of the message.

sungchan.

i miss you. let me know when you’re home safe, okay?

the words reverberated in your chest, soft and full of kindness, the exact opposite of everything donghyuck was.

sungchan was stable, predictable, safe—the type of person who held doors open and kissed you goodnight like it was second nature. but here you were, sprawled out in another man’s bed, the ghost of his hands still lingering on your skin.

you turned your head toward donghyuck, searching for something in him. something human. something that might tether you to the idea that this meant more than it did. but there was nothing—not even a flicker of acknowledgment as he barked a low curse at his game, his focus unwavering.

and yet, despite his cruelty, despite the hollowness he left in his wake, you felt yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. it wasn’t love, and it wasn’t even lust—it was the gravitational pull of your own self-destruction.

the bed creaked as you sat up, the cool air biting against your bare skin. your phone buzzed again, its screen lighting up the darkened room. sungchan’s name flashed across it once more, and the guilt twisted like a knife in your chest.

this was wrong.

you knew it was wrong.

but as much as you wanted to gather your things, to walk out of this apartment and leave donghyuck behind for good, you knew you wouldn’t.

“you’re thinking too loud,” donghyuck muttered, his voice cold and detached as his fingers moved deftly over the controller. he didn’t even look at you.

“i should go,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

this time, he glanced over his shoulder, raising a brow in mock amusement. “then go,” he said simply, his tone devoid of care, as if your presence—or absence—meant nothing to him.

your throat tightened, tears threatening to spill again. you gripped the edge of the sheets, your knuckles white, your mind warring with itself. every rational part of you screamed to leave, to call sungchan, to beg for forgiveness.

but the irrational part of you—the part that craved donghyuck’s indifference, his cruelty, the way he stripped you down to your rawest form—kept you rooted in place. because for all the emptiness he left behind, donghyuck made you feel something.

the shame, the desire, the heartbreak—it was all consuming, chaotic, alive. and as much as it hurt, it was better than the numbness you felt everywhere else.

your phone buzzed again, the sound cutting through the air like a razor. sungchan was waiting. he always was. and yet, you turned your gaze back to donghyuck, who had already dismissed you, his attention back on his game.

you would stay.

you always stayed.

and as you sank back into the mattress, staring up at the ceiling with tears pooling in your eyes, the frailty of your willpower sank in like a stone. you hated yourself for it, hated how weak you were, hated how easily he broke you.

but deep down, you knew you’d come back again.

you always did.

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saltnsugarbear · 1 month ago

Note

congrats on 200! love your writing <3

i'd like to request “Oh God, yes, just like that. Keep— keep going.” with carmy pls

im so fucking insane over this

word count: 0.6k

content warnings: MDNI!!! pervy roommate Carmy, stolen underwear, getting off with that underwear, pillow humping, sort of voyeurism?? maybe??, reader is having sex but like across the hall behind closed doors so

side note: this came to me in a flash I wrote this in like an hour holy shit

He didn't mean to get a hold of your underwear. Carmy was doing his laundry, folding clothes and hanging them and it just fall out.

He remembers it very clearly. When he was putting a hoodie on a hangar and a small piece of fabric fell out. Imagine his embarrassment when the fabric was a pair of black panties covered in little cherries. God, he can still feel the warmth from how flushed his face got, cheeks and ears probably bright pink.

And the problem is Carmy can't just sneak into your room to put it back. He can't because whenever he is home, you're home. You're asleep when he's leaving for work and you're up when he's getting back from The Beef, there's never a good time to put it back.

So Carmy just hid it under his bed, letting it sit in the dark where he could forget about it.

And he did forget about it. For a while.

Until tonight.

And it's not your fault, truly not your fault, that the walls are thin. It's not your fault that Carmy can hear you through the walls. And it's certainly not your fault how his body is reacting or the fantasies that are running around his head.

At first he thought he could get away from it, distract himself with dishes and food over the sounds your making across the hall. Keep his mind off the stirring in his boxers by any means.

But it got to be too much at your first cry of frustration. The quiet pleading that came after, your sobbing and begging to come.

Carmy's hand flew to his erection almost immediately, rutting up into his palm when he makes contact. He tries to pace his hand movements in time with your moaning, but it's not enough.

Something in him remembers. He doesn't know what part but Carmy is rolling over quickly, sticking his hand under his bed and patting around until he makes contact with fabric. He wraps his fingers in the material and brings it out from under as he shoves off his boxers.

The idea of wrapping your underwear around his cock isn't enough. He needs something solid, something underneath him.

He's moving automatically as he grabs his pillow and lays your underwear over the side. Carmy lays one arm above his head and one in front of his face, perfect placing just incase he has to quiet himself. Positioning himself is easy, keeping one leg tucked up as he pushes his hips up against the pillow.

The pressure of pushing himself against the fabric is maddening, causing him to grind into it. He slowly finds the rhythm of your moans and applies it to his grinding. He's surprised by how fast it is, whining at the rough and quick drag of the fabric under his cock.

It doesn't even register to him that he's being a little loud, his own quieter moans being masked by yours across the hall. He presses his muttering into the fabric, almost trying to melt into the mattress.

"Oh, yes, just like that," Carmy mutters into the mattress, bucking his hips up against his pillow. "Keep- Keep going.."

His words get more slurred the quicker he grinds his hips. Soon he's nothing but a whining, moaning mess against his sheets. And he's hoping to God that you or the person you've brought over can't hear him.

"Fuck- fuck- shit.." Carmy mutters when he feels the band in his stomach snap. He bites the fabric under him to muffle his whines, stomach clenching at the warm spurts of cum against his skin.

His breathing settles as his hips twitch at the slight overstimulation from him grinding. Carmy huffs as he lets go of the fabric in his mouth, laying back against the bed as he comes down.

He groans when it hits him. The reality of it all. Carmy shoves his pillow off the bed before rolling back don't his stomach, covering his eyes with his arm.

He's going to have to wash his sheets.

#saltnsugarbear #too much salt (18+)#200 grains of salt [ 200 followers celebration ]#cloak and dagger of it all [ anon ]#carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #the bear fanfiction #the bear

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lostfracturess · 10 months ago

Text

wanna join me in the shower?

ღ pairing satoru gojo x female reader

ღ summary satoru gojo craves nothing more than to unwind with you in a hot, steamy shower after a long, stressful day. that's it. no more plot found.

ღ wc 1.9 k

ღ warnings/content 18+ ONLY. porn without plot, established relationship, unprotected sex, backside rubbing, penetration, fingering, kinda breeding kink, lots of cum, praising, overstimulation.

ღ author's note this idea was in my head for so long, i needed to write it down already, so here it is lol. & pls like or repost if you enjoyed, it means the world !! ♡

Steam fills the air, swirling around you as the hot water cascades down your body. The day's tensions slowly melt away, carried off by the rivulets streaming down your back.

Your eyes flutter closed and a soft moan escapes your lips as you feel him press against you from behind, his muscular body molding to yours.

"Do you know how many times I thought about you today?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. His hands, strong and purposeful, glide up your damp arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Oh, is that so?" you tease.

"Yeah, you have no idea how hard I've gotten just thinking about being inside you again. I could hardly control myself all day."

His lips trail urgent kisses down your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against him. Your slick bodies mold together as the water rushes over you.

"Been fantasizing about having you pinned against the wall, bending you over and fucking you so deep you'll feel me for days."

You feel Satoru's throbbing erection pressing against your back, hard and insistent. He's long, thick, and already pulsing, promising to stretch and fill you in the most maddening ways.

An aching throb builds up between your thighs and you both know one thing for sure — you both need each other right now, desperately.

"I want you so fucking bad right now," he says, grinding his hips against you, letting you feel every rigid inch.

"Fuck, Satoru... don't stop." You arch your back, pushing your ass against him, seeking more friction.

"Someone's eager, huh?" He bites down on the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder, making you cry out, before spinning you around to face him.

You barely catch a glimpse of the burning intensity in his blue eyes before his mouth crashes against yours.

Your lips part automatically and his tongue plunges past them to claim your mouth, your tongues tangling together. Sharp teeth dig into your bottom lip until they're red and kiss-swollen.

Your hands roam over his slick body, tracing the sculpted contours of his abs and pecs, reveling in the way his muscles flex and ripple beneath your touch.

His hot skin scorches your palms, but you can't get enough. Your fingertips brush the trail of coarse hair leading down from his navel and you feel his cock jump against your stomach in response, throbbing and leaking.

Unable to wait any longer, Satoru breaks the kiss, grabbing your hips and roughly spinning you to face the wall. The cold tile against your chest makes you gasp.

He kicks your feet apart and pins you in place with his hips, the blunt head of his cock nestling between your ass cheeks. "Gonna show you just how good I can make you feel."

He starts trailing biting kisses along your shoulder, working his way down your spine. You moan and arch your back, silently begging him to claim you, to make you his.

Goosebumps race across your overheated skin as his teeth scrape against your skin, alternating between gentle nibbles and sharp bites.

Satoru presses his rock-hard, throbbing length between your ass cheeks, groaning at the feel of your soft skin enveloping him. He rocks his hips slowly, dragging his cock along your backside.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he rasps, his breath hot against your ear. "So fucking hot, I could come just like this."

He drags the swollen, weeping head of his cock against you, trailing it down between your legs to your dripping slit. You whimper and arch your back, granting him better access, silently begging him to stop tormenting you.

Satoru lets out a ragged moan as he grinds against you, the sound echoing off the shower walls. His hips thrust in a slow rhythm, stroking his heavy length along your folds, the rigid shaft bumping against your clit with each pass.

Satoru lets out a low, wrecked moan as he grinds against you, the lewd sound echoing off the shower walls. His hips grinding against you, stroking his heavy length along your seam, bumping against your sensitive clit with each pass.

"So fucking hot, I'm gonna lose it," he pants, lost in the sensation of grinding against you. "Gonna paint that perfect ass with my cum, get you all messy."

You moan desperately, torn between wanting exactly that and needing him buried deep inside you. And as if reading your mind, Satoru's hand finally drifts to where you need him most.

His skilled fingers part your slick folds, gliding effortlessly through your drenched sex. You cry out in relief as he strokes your slit before rubbing your clit.

"Fuck, you're absolutely soaked for me."

Without warning, two thick fingers plunge knuckle-deep inside you, curving upwards to stroke that spot that sets your nerves ablaze. Your walls clench around him as he pumps his fingers in and out.

"God, love, you're shaking already?"

"Shut up and fuck me already, Satoru," you manage to gasp out between moans, barely able to keep your footing as he fucks you with his fingers.

You can feel your orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter, ready to snap. But just as you're about to tumble over the edge, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you empty and aching.

"Wha—why did you stop?"

"Not so fast, love."

Before you can respond, Satoru spins you around and hoists you up effortlessly. Your back slams against the cold tile wall as he pins you there with his hips.

You wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles behind his back. Your fingers dig into the firm muscles of his shoulders, finding purchase on his slick skin.

"I want to feel you come around my cock."

His swollen tip nudges against your entrance and then with one powerful thrust, he thrusts himself fully inside you. You cry out at the sudden stretch, your walls clenching around his thick girth as he fills and spreads you almost painfully wide.

"Fuck, I've missed you so much," Satoru moans against your parted lips, his breath mingling with yours. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size before he starts to move.

The angle is perfect, deep — almost too deep — his thick cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. It's intense, overwhelming, and you can already feel your orgasm building embarrassingly fast.

"You like that? Love feeling me fill you up like this?"

"God, yes... right there, don't stop," you mewl, clawing at his back, urging him impossibly deeper.

Satoru lets out a low moan, tipping his head back to allow the water to cascade over his face and down his neck. It flows over his chiseled chest and abs, making him look like a goddamn wet dream come to life.

"Fuck, you feel so good, so fucking good, squeezing me so tight. Made to take my cock," he pants.

As the water pounds down around you, Satoru's thrusts become more frenzied, skin slapping against skin as he rails into you. His grip on your ass tightens to the point of bruising as he pulls you onto his cock harder, faster, fucking up into you.

And you just know, you'll be sore tomorrow.

Your legs tremble as Satoru pounds into you, the force of his thrusts making it nearly impossible to keep your balance. If it weren't for the bruising grip of his hands on your ass and the wall at your back, you'd have collapsed by now.

The sounds of your fucking fill the room—the wet slaps of skin against skin, the squelch of your pussy being plowed, the splashing of water, and your shared moans echoing off the tiles.

"Fuck, I wanna hear you scream my name when you come on my cock. Can you do that for me?" He yanks you impossibly closer, mashing your body against his as he thrusts into you at a truly punishing pace.

Every inch of your overheated skin is pressed flush against his, slick and slippery as the steaming water pours over you both. Your nipples drag deliciously against his hard chest and your clit grinds against his pelvis with every aggressive pump of his hips.

Your head lolls back, mouth falling open in a silent scream as your orgasm crushes over you. Every muscle seizes, your cunt clamping down on Satoru's cock.

"Fuck, love, you're gonna make me come if you keep squeezing me like that," Satoru chokes out, his rhythm faltering as your spasming walls squeeze him.

Somehow he fucks into you even harder, moaning with the effort as he chases his own release. His strokes turn sloppy, every snap of his hips bruising your cervix, but you welcome the sweet ache, crave it.

You arch into him, meeting his thrusts. "Satoru, please. I need it, need to feel you come inside me," you whimper, hazy, lost to everything but his cock pounding into you.

"Shit, gonna fucking—" Satoru's words cut off into a groan as he slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt. His cock throbs inside you, spilling his seed deep into you.

He pumps into you shallowly as he empties every last drop, filling you to the brim until his cum is seeping out around his still-hard length and dripping down your trembling thighs to swirl down the drain.

After catching his breath, Satoru starts thrusting into you again, his pace slow and deliberate, making sure his cum stays where it belongs — inside you.

Your body writhes in his grasp, overwhelmed as he continues to stroke your sensitive walls. Every drag of his thick cock against inside your core has you shuddering, and you're not sure if you want to push him away or pull him impossibly closer.

"Satoru, please, it's too much," you whimper, clinging to his slick shoulders.

"I know you can take it, be a good girl for me, yeah?"

Despite your whimpered protests, you can already feel another orgasm building dangerously fast. Satoru feels it too, angling his thrusts to push even deeper into you.

"Come on love, give me one more. I know you have another one in you. Be a good girl and come on my cock again."

And it doesn't take long before you orgasm all over again. With a broken cry, you shatter on his thick cock, coming undone in his arms. Satoru groans as he feels you clenching around his length.

"Hmm, that's my good girl," Satoru rasps, never letting up. He fucks you through it, drawing out your orgasm until tears are leaking from the corners of your eyes and you're weakly pushing at his chest.

"I love when you're like this—fucked stupid on my cock, all messy and mindless. So goddamn beautiful."

Eventually, exhausted and completely spent, Satoru pulls out of you, hissing at the drag of your walls against his sensitive cock. You whine as he slips free, followed by an obscene gush of his cum.

He gently lowers you to the shower floor, keeping a strong arm banded around your waist as your trembling legs threaten to give out. "You did so good for me, love."

Satoru tips your chin up and captures your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. You melt into him, surrendering to the slow slide of his tongue as he soothes your overwrought senses.

When he finally pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours. "That was exactly what I needed after the shit day I had. You're always exactly what I need."

#gojo saturo #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #saturo gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #jujutsu kaisen

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dinoace2 · 6 months ago

Text

For @hg-aneh , this comic they made :]

Bit of a different take, this time, what if it wasn't just that he didn't talk, but he couldn't?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a shitty day.

All the days had been shitty.

Aziraphale had lost count how many there had been so far, and rain doesn't exist in Heaven. But clouds massing over Soho suggested that the newest thunderstorm was on its way, and it was going to be a big one.

Earlier...

"No, no, please, you can't do this!" Aziraphale thrashed about, trying to loose the grip of the Powers who held onto each of his arms. One on either side, holding tight to ensure he couldn't move.

Uriel sneered at him, their eyes flaring with anger. "I already told you once, Aziraphale. You ask too many questions. Supreme Archangel or not, there still remain standards that must be met. Lines that cannot be crossed."

Aziraphale frowned. "It still seems quite reasonable to me to demand why! The very idea of creating Humanity, just to destroy it, it's...well, it's senseless! Sure, they've made mistakes, but they don't deserve utter annihilation for it! And they definitely don't deserve it if the only reason is 'the Almighty has grown bored of Her little social experiment'! That logic is, quite frankly, nothing short of childish and ridic- !"

One of the other angels cut him off with a knee to the stomach. He winced, letting out a huff of air as he sank to his knees.

"Thats enough!" Michael frowned. "I'm not sure what the Metatron saw in you before, but I'm glad He finally came to His senses." She leaned down, inches from his face. "I've half a mind to strike you down where you stand, traitor."

"S-surely," Aziraphale whispered, his voice hoarse. "Surely, this can't be what She wants. This can't be Her will."

“You don't have the right to suggest what She wants.” Michael scowled. “such blasphemy begs execution.”

“I think you and I both know what happened the last time you tried.” Aziraphale managed a smirk.

“We're well aware, thank you.” She huffed. “we had to get creative this time around, I hate to say.” She waved a hand. “Uriel!”

She stepped aside as the other archangel approached, some sort of weapon in hand. They raised their arm to strike, and Aziraphale flinched, his eyes shut tight.

…

He paused. Wasn't something supposed to happen? He opened his eyes, only to find Uriel already putting their weapon away.

What happ- he paused. His mouth had opened, his lips formed the words, but…he didn't say anything. No sound came out.

He tried again, getting the same result. Michael chuckled. “A fitting consequence for the angel who talked too much, no?” she waved to the angels on either side of him. “You know what to do.”

Aziraphale struggled in their grasp as they dragged him away, far past the point of no return.

~~~

It burns...

It's so cold, but it burns...

Aziraphale wasn't sure how long he'd been falling.

He felt infernal wind flying around him, whipping in his hair and tearing through his feathers. It was completely dark, he couldn't see anything. The only reason he knew which way was down was because thats the direction he was going.

Hellfire lashed at him as he Fell, flicking at his clothes, his skin, his wings. Every burst of flame stung with a flash of icy, searing pain that burned deep into his soul.

He wanted to cry out, to scream, to call for something, anything, but when his mouth opened he was still trapped in the same empty, maddening silence as if he had done nothing at all.

He wondered if this was how Crowley felt when he Fell; freezing, burning, hurting...alone. Thinking through everything that led him here. Wondering if he did the right thing. Wondering if there was anything else he should have done, anything else he could have done, to possibly have changed what he now faced.

Crowley...

What would he say, when he saw Aziraphale like this? What would he do? Would he even do anything? Would he glare down at him? Say 'I told you so'? Grin and laugh? Or maybe he'd just walk away, not even dignifying a response. Aziraphale wouldn't even blame him for that, considering how he left things. Whatever Crowley decided to do, it was definitely going to be deserved.

He put a hand to his throat, realizing that, whatever happened, he wouldn't be able to say anything. Wouldn't be able to explain himself, or say anything that he wanted to, or... he paused, then hugged himself. For the rest of eternity, no matter how much he may want to, no matter how hard he'd try, he would never be able to tell Crowley those three bloody words that he'd always wanted to say. Those three blasted words that had been on the tip of his tongue for millenia. Those three damned words that he should have said before.

But...even if he said them now...there was no guarantee (or, at this point, no chance) that Crowley would accept it, surely. Not after everything he did...after everything that happened.

He hugged himself, pulling his knees to his chest, and choked on a silent sob. Everything hurt, he felt confused and scared and ruined. All he felt he could do was fall, and wait for the crash.

~~~

Aziraphale's eyes opened. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know what he was. He felt nothing at all. But at the same time he felt everything…and it all hurt. His lungs burned and his eyes stung. A cloud of ash lingered around him, smothering the nearby air and nearly making him choke.

He wanted to curl up, to cry, to never move again. He felt like he couldn't move, yet still that he had to. His face hardly moved, his expression limp and exhausted and miserable. In all fairness, that's exactly how he felt. Nothing.

He gathered what strength he had and pulled himself to sit up, looking around. His skin stung with burns and his eyes couldn't quite focus. His fingers curled in coarse, sharp, black sand beneath him, and waves lapped at his feet. A burnt smell came from the bubbling ‘water’. Sulfur…? It looked like some sort of…infernal beach.

He got to his feet, brushing the sand off his coat and beginning to walk. Hell's offices must not be far from here.

Sure enough, after walking for a while he made it to a dim-lit building, greenish light spilling out of the few windows. Heaven's basement, indeed.

When Aziraphale opened the doors, all went suddenly still and silent. All eyes fell on him. The cramped crowds parted as he walked past, perhaps out of recognition, perhaps out of fear. He stopped one demon on his way, asking for directions by simply pointing a finger up.

~~~

The clouds overhead were dense and dark, nearly blotting out the natural sunlight of the late afternoon. Thunder rolled in the distance, deep and low, a promise of the storm that was to come.

A distinct ding echoed in the empty Soho street corner, and a cloud of ash spilled out onto the sidewalk.

As if to gather what dignity he had left, Aziraphale straightened his coat, straightening the wrinkles in the fabric, and approached A.Z. Fell and Co. The first raindrops of the oncoming tempest splashed against the pavement.

He hesitated as he reached for the door. The bookshop was an embassy after all. Demons aren't allowed to pass without permission...would he even be able to go inside his own- well...not his anymore - home? His fingers clasped around the doorknob and gently turned it, breathing out a sigh of relief when nothing stopped him.

The familiar chime of the doorbell was almost comforting as he stepped inside, but relief was quick to be replaced by regret.

It was dark. The lights were all out, the shades all drawn. The shop looked untouched, and while ordinarily that would be a good thing, not like this. Everything was covered in a visible layer of dust. He swiped his finger on the till counter, carving a revealed line of clean wood beneath the soft gray film. Not just untouched, but abandoned.

You poor thing...wasn't Muriel supposed to look after you?

Among the stagnant, silent scenery, a mop of long red hair was draped across a table. The body slumped beneath it stirred at the sound of the doorbell. Golden eyes blinked slowly, adjusting to the shift in lighting.

Aziraphale stood still, saying nothing, doing nothing. What happened to you? How long was I gone? How long have you been alone? His mind raced with questions that he couldn't voice.

Once he noticed the figure in front of him, Crowley was quick to sit upright, eyes wide. "Oh..." Frantic emotions of all natures flashed across his expression as he tried to determine whether the sight before him was really and truly there.

"Oh!"

He got to his feet, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well! Look who bothered to show up!" A sharp grin took over his face as he sauntered up to the visitor. "The Supreme Asshat of Heaven, dirtying his clean little shoes to come and laugh at the pitiful, sad demon." His voice came out as a hiss, laced with bitter sarcasm and poorly-disguised sadness. Aziraphale didn't move, didn't respond. He couldn't.

I'm so sorry, dear…is that what you think ive been feeling? What I've been up to? Why would I ever mock you, I could never-

Crowley put his hands up and spoke in a mocking tone. “‘Ooh, poor Crowley, he must be feeling so pathetic, all alone’.” He grinned wider, his arms flat at his sides. “Well. The joke's on you. I'm better than ever on my own. Just me. A team of Myself.” He stepped forward once more, blinking away tears. “I don't need you!”

Aziraphale just looked at him, part of his mind wondering if this new form could cry.

Inches away from his face, Crowley nearly shouted, “So tell me, Angel, why did you come back?! Why are you here, Aziraphale?!”

With a shaky breath and a whoosh of feathers, Aziraphale answered his question. It…seemed the easiest way to communicate, considering the circumstances. Thunder cracked outside, a flash of light through the windows highlighting the jet-black wings from behind. He could do nothing but watch, as the color drained from Crowley's face.

“You….you-” he was still for a moment, quiet and shaky. His anger seemed to shift, still present but no longer directed at Aziraphale. “You idiot!” He launched forward and grabbed Aziraphale by his jacket’s lapels. “Why, Aziraphale?! Why did you leave?! Why did you go back?! Why?” He finally choked on a sob, collapsing against Aziraphale's chest. “Why, Angel…why…why…” He dissolved into broken cries, sinking to his knees as he begged for answers.

Oh, Crowley…

They sat in silence for a long while, Aziraphale unsure of what to do. He certainly couldn't say anything.

When Crowley's sobs slowed to soft whimpers, the angel stepped back. Crowley looked up at him, confusion in his gaze.

Aziraphale took a breath, then recited the simple, memorized steps in his head. Stepped forward with one hand up and the other on his hip, kicked his leg back and lifted his arms, spun around on one foot, and ended in a bow. You were right, you were right, I was wrong, you were right. He sunk down on the bow, propping himself on one knee and keeping his head low.

Crowley was silent, his jaw slack as he processed what just happened.

“...Angel-”

He reached up, gently holding Aziraphale's cheek with one hand. Aziraphale closed his eyes, leaning into the demon's touch.

“...say something…please…” He whispered, leaning closer.

‘I can't,’ Aziraphale mouthed, trying to gesture to his neck. ‘I'm sorry.’

Crowley paused, nodding slightly. He seemed to understand. He pulled him close, pressing their foreheads together. “...Heaven took it from you…didn't they.” It was more of a statement than a question. When Aziraphale nodded, he sighed. “Those angels and their ‘poetic justice’, huh? They…they think they have the right to take everything…I get it. I've been there. Though I'm sure you know that already, heh.” He smiled weakly, and he felt a silent chuckle shake in Aziraphale's chest.

“...im glad you came back,” Crowley whispered. “I…im sorry how I acted…what I said, when you left…a-and…the…the kiss, i…im so sorry…I wish it had happened under better circumstances…or…maybe even just…never at all, I…I just…you…” his rambling trailed off, as Aziraphale cupped his face in both hands, gently lifting his chin.

The little space between them closed, their lips falling together as both demons desperately clung to one another, their only lifeline in an otherwise empty world. This wasn't like the last one. The last one was a plea to stay…this one was a promise.

Tears finally fell down Aziraphale's cheeks, stinging his skin as he pulled Crowley closer still. He pressed kisses to his lips, his cheek, along his jaw, anywhere he could reach. He mouthed what he couldn't say against Crowley's skin, three words over and over, whispered silently wherever he touched. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Crowley pulled away, if only to breathe for a moment. “Aziraphale…” He wiped at the tears on his cheeks with his thumbs.

He hugged him, pulling him into a tight embrace. “my offer still stands, you know…our side…together. Just us…if- if you're interested, I mean. I…I know, it…sounds lonely…but…nothin’ wrong with being lonely together, is there?” He offered a weak smile.

Aziraphale smiled, a real, true smile for the first time since getting on that bloody elevator oh-so-long ago, nodding as he clung tightly to his other half.

Together. Our side. As long as we have each other.

~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading! :]

#angst my beloved #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #aziraphale good omens #aziraphale #good omens aziraphale #crowley good omens #crowley #good omens fic #good omens

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sugar-omi · 1 year ago

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I THINK I FINALLY GOT IT TO WORK.... jfc anywayz this is nasty n i love it. so fellow monster freaks, this is for you my loves!!!! <333

DAY FOUR — MONSTER FUCKING

*kinktober masterlist | *ao3

tags : NSFW, fem/afab reader, dub-con just bc y'all are so outta it, (mentioned/implied) dom/sub space, mermaid!cove x human!reader, soft to mean dom cove, biting, scratching, stomach bulging, knotting ment, ignore the kinda scary mer pregnancy bit okay

synopsis : cove finally lets you spend his heat with him, and your mermaid boyfriend is so much different than you had thought...

maybe you should have listened to cove when he said humans couldn't handle a mermaids heat. at least not without fighting for their life.

mermaids are naturally rough during their heats, biting and fighting for dominance over the other.. not to mention the sheer size of them.

cove is bigger than the average merman, "standing" at 12 feet tall.

which is something you should have factored in along with the sharp teeth and claws. because now, you're in a isolated underwater cove, with a horny, giant mermaid who is currently rearranging your guts.

"cove-!" you cry, pushing against his chest. it's fruitless, and you're just asking for more assertiveness, more pain

"stay still." cove growls, his sharp eyes striking through you, urging you to stay still and take it. you whine, your eyes rolling back. you know cove is trying to be gentle, but his mind is clouded.

"i-i can't take more!" you whimper. even though he's proportional for a merman of his size, it's too much for you. you couldn't possibly take all of his dick. "it won't fit-" you drawl, the words straining through gritted teeth.

cove kisses your cheek, licking your tears. "it's okay, it's okay..." he comforts, panting from the effort to control himself. "you can take it... i've prepared you for this.."

you whine when he moves again, the prominent ridges on the underside of his dick stretching you open.

he really did try to prepare you, gifting you a toy roughly the size of his dick and some smaller ones to work up to his size. cove even ate you out beforehand, his fingers slowly stretching you open and making sure you would come out as unscathed as possible.

cove kisses you, swallowing your whines and moans and trading it for his long tapered tongue.

you kiss back, letting cove consume your senses and take away all your burdens.

bitten, bruised, and sore, it's so worth it. to be connected with cove on this level.. it's maddening.

"are.. you okay?" cove pants into your ear, his fingers flexing around your waist as he tries to keep restraint.

you swallow, drool pooling in your mouth. "yes, yes, please move…"

cove fixes his grip on your body to move you the way he wants, his hands are so big they easily wrap around your waist and the heat coming from cove makes you feel like you're burning…

"ah-!" you drape yourself over cove. wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. he's moving your body so easily..

you know you're much smaller than cove, so his strength shouldn't be a surprise. but the way he's moving your body up and down on his cock like you're his personal cock sleeve drives you crazy.

"covee~" you drawl, your eyes rolling back. fuck you're losing your mind.

every part of your body and mind is consumed with pleasure, any thoughts you have melt and reform to think about nothing but cove and his dick.

cove's nails dig into your skin, pearls of blood coming to the surface and washing away with the movements of your hips.

the scratches should hurt, cove's claws aren't for decoration afterall, but it seems that medicine cove gave you helps with the pain you are sure to endure during his heat.

cove groans, "fuck.. you're so tight…"

you pang, blinking away your fucked out haze. "you're… you're just too- ohh fuck- too big!"

cove's laugh is cut off by your twitching cunt tightening around him, "jesus christ, y/n… stop tightening up.." cove growls.

you whine, dragging your nails down cove's scaled shoulders. "i'm-i'm trying.." you whine, "it feels so good."

cove drags his teeth over the exposed column of your throat. his lips trail down to your shoulder, and with much care that most mermaids wouldn't afford, he bites down hard enough to leave evidence of his teeth, and he runs his tongue over it soothingly.

you huff, squirming in cove's hold. "please, please cove! faster!"

cove peeks at you, stopping his assault on your neck and collarbone. "...can you handle it?"

you huff irritably, rolling your eyes. "i'm taking your dick right now aren't i? i'm not going to break."

cove glares, "it took you a week to get up to the toy that was only 2nd to my true size, you shook and cried that you couldn't take it."

his voice is booming, and maybe it should scare you, but something about cove reminding you how you pathetically ran to him to help you with the toy… it turns you on.

"you've trained your pathetic human cunt to take my dick and you still cried that it wouldn't fit." cove stares down at you, his height and gaze making you still and a fire is burning in your stomach.

"if i give you more than you can take, you'll break. aren't you worried about me hurting you?" cove inquires and his gaze is a mix of intrigue and confusion at your eager negative shake of your head.

"as if, you can't hurt a fly." you're testing him, he's already holding back for you and yet you can't help but want to push him over the edge…

cove growls, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest and his gills flare.

he doesn't say anything else, you've said enough after all and if it's more you want, it's more you get.

cove hugs you, one arm around your back and the other under your butt, and uses the power of his lower body to thrust up into you.

you yell, your nails scratching down his scales and to his back, surely scratching off skin if cove's hiss is anything to go by.

with the change of pace, the last couple inches of cove's dick forces itself into you. you can't even catch your breath since with every rearing of his hips, the knot at the base of his dick pop in-and-out of you.

"cove!" you slap his shoulder, shaking at the stimulation.

cove nips at your shoulder and chest, leaving small marks where he pleases. "you wanted more. don't blame me if you end up becoming my pathetic cock sleeve."

you whine, drool slipping past the corner of your lips.

he's really fucking you dumb, leaving you no choice but to think about nothing but his dick.

his fat tip keeps bumping against your cervix, hitting that lovely spot between your womb and your gummy walls.

"ah! ohh fuck!" you cry, cove has taken your nipple in his mouth, swirling his long tongue around the bud and teasing it with his teeth, your other breast in his hands, rolling the bud between his fingers.

you whimper and moan, shaking your hips in return. the sensation is so good, especially since he's keeping you from running with his arm around your waist, forcing you to take the pleasure he's giving you.

as if you would want to run anyway. you've become way too addicted to this now.

sure you and cove have been intimate before, but this is the most you've ever taken of his ridiculously large mer dick and this is the roughest he's ever been with you.

usually he’s the one holding your hips to keep you from sinking any further on his length. but now he's fucking you with reckless abandon, giving into your pleas after all this time…

it doesn't take much to succumb to the pleasure that you've been craving this whole time.

“cove!” you cry, your legs shaking.”i’m gonna, i’m gonna make a mess!”

cove growls, picking up pace, purposefully angling his tip to slam against your g-spot.

a couple solid thrusts is all it takes to have you shaking, your legs wrapped around cove as you squirt.

you're seeing white, your legs shaking and toes curling. you can barely process the groan that comes deep from cove's throat because of your convulsing cunt, you're wrapped so tightly around him that his cock drags against your walls when he tries to pull back.

you whine and shake, feeling sensitive after such an intention orgasm.

"cove…" you weakly call, pulling yourself up by his shoulders to try and get off his dick, that spongy spot inside your walls too tender from the abuse.

"don't pull away from me.." cove grunts, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter.

you pant, blinking and trying to keep consciousness.

you barely register that you're slipping into sub space, you've completely surrendered yourself to cove and obediently swallow the pearls he presses to your lips.

"mm, what.. what was that?" you ask, swallowing several times at the after taste. you know one of them was for breathing underwater, but you've never seen the other before..

"it's a contraceptive."

in this position you feel really small to cove, his body leaning over yours, completely trapping you between him and his nest.

combine that with his feral grin and sharp eyes… you're stuck and absolutely hypnotized.

"merfolk are very fertile, remember?" cove leans down to whisper in your ear. his voice deep and it penetrates your soul.

"we have a lot left to do before i impregnate you with my seed."

you shiver, looking at him with wide eyes. the thought doesn't terrify you, although maybe it should with what you know…

most humans don't survive it. and that's typically because they're not mated… something about DNA and special pheromones to relax and aid you in pregnancy and birth.

cove kisses your cheek, grinding his the tip of his dick near your womb. "don't worry… i know hoe to make it easier, don't be scared."

you nod mindlessly, trusting him.

"fuck!" you curse, the power of cove's thrust nearly burying you in his nest.

you cling onto his shoulders for dear life, your leg kicking out, allowing him to go even deeper.

"cove!"

"shhh, it's okay. just a bit more.." cove soothes, "i'm gonna cum soon…"

he groans, removing himself from your thoroughly marred neck to hold your legs and spreading them open, allowing him to piston into your weeping cunt.

you howl, throwing your head back and fisting the organized mess of blankets and materials of cove's nest, arching your back.

the movement just forces his dick deeper inside you, making you whine loudly.

you flip over, although not without much shaking, whimpering, and cove's nails digging into your skin.

although now that you've made it onto your stomach, weakly trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure, cove tugs your hips back and easily manhandled you.

he presses you against his chest with his hand, the other on your stomach, which he brings something interesting to your attention…

"fuck.. you see that?"

it takes you a minute to respond, too long because cove grabs you by your chin and tilts your head down, and shows you your stomach.

you moan lowly at the sight.

with every deep thrust you can see cove's dick protrude from your stomach, popping up right below your belly button.

cove lifts your head back up, his hand under your jaw, and he can't help but laugh at the tears running down your face.

"look at you, you've become a brainless slut."

you moan at cove's degrading comment. fuck you didn't think he had it in you but he does and you are losing it.

"maybe i'll keep you to myself forever. merfolk already have a bad reputation because of sirens.." cove growls in your ear, "wanna be my cute lil' cock sleeve, y/n?"

all you can do is beg and squirm for more.

"please.." you whimper, feeling cove's knot catching on your entrance. you want to be filled, you need him to cum inside..

cove laughs at your plea and kisses your lips, grinning a sharp toothed, wolfish smirk. "good girl, i'll take care of you…"

#sugar omi kinktober #sugar-omi kinktober #kinktober #olba #our life: beginnings & always #cove holden #cove holden x reader #smut #cove holden smut #our life cove #cove holden x mc #cove holden x reader smut #our life smut

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blue-sadie · 1 year ago

Text

Save Him

Moon System x Ex Reader

Summary: he thought he could save you but leaving you was the worst thing he ever did

Warning: pet death, dog name = buddy

Yn/3rd person pov

I groaned out in pain as I dragged my battered body across my floor crawling over to my fur baby "buddy" I chocked as I finally reached him I felt my eyes glaze over with tears as I looked over his wounded body "buddy".

My hands trembled as they went to touch him "no no no" I cried and slowly cradled him into my body "please stay with me please" I kissed his snot "p-please don't leave me".

The tears fell from my cheeks onto his fur dampening it I screamed out hoping someone would come help me "someone please" the tears flowed down my cheeks like a river and my lips quivered.

I let my eyes wonder over the recked apartment searching for anything that could help me my eyes locked on my phone I threw at the intruders "come on" I cried and slowly clawed my way to it still holding buddy tightly in my arms.

"Fuck" I coughed seeing a small splatter of blood land on the floor infront of me as I reached out for my phone screaming out as it damaged my wounds more.

I opened the phone as fast as my bloodied finger tips let me going straight to contacts my heart froze I didn't have anyone to call and for the life of me I couldn't remember the emergency number 'why can't they all be 911'.

I scrolled through my contacts knowing if I couldn't get a hold of anyone soon it would be the end for me, my hand stopped as I came to his number he was the only one in this area that could help me.

We didn't end on good terms so would he help me anyways I sighed in pain and pressed call it rang for a few minutes before being sent into voice mail "fuck" I cried and hit call again "please please pick up" I pleaded.

It went to voice mail again "m-marc, please I-I don't have anyone else to call, they broke in and I'm wounded buddy is hurt please.... I need you" my voice wavered as I spoke the last words.

My thumb hesitantly pressed the hung up bottom and it was like the whole world fell into a maddening silence except for the sound of my short breathes.

I placed the phone down beside me and sat myself up against the flipped over couch keeping buddy close to my chest hugging him tightly because I was afraid he'll disappear.

The minutes that passed felt like ours it was funny how when your in pain time almost slowed down into a complete stop, with each passing minute breathing started becoming harder and my vision started to darken.

I looked towards the door praying for something to happen and that's when I heard it the thundering foots coming down the corridor and the familiar voice I once loved "yn" he sounded breathless as he banged on the door.

I watched as the door flung open to reveal a very freaked out marc who rushed towards me "s-save him" I choked trying to pass buddy to marc but I didn't have the strength "shh I got to help you" marc whispered and gently took him from my arms and layed him beside.

I tried pushing his hands away from me "save him, save him please" I sob and tried to get out of his arms as he picked me up to get back to buddy's side "he'll want me to take care of you yn" marc tried calming me down but I just pushed my head into his neck trying to convince him to go back but all my words were landing on deaf ears.

He gently layed me in the back of the car and rushed to the driver's seat and as soon as the door closed I could see him change "t-take me back jake" I whimpered my throat tightening as I started to cough "I'm sorry mi amor" was all he said before driving towards the hospital but all I remember was rounding the first corner before sleep took me.

Jakes pov

I paced back and forth in the waiting room as steven frantically tried to calm himself down while marc didn't speak at all "this is all our fault" I stared at Steven in the mirror that was to the side of me "we did this to her they did this to her because of us".

We just listened to him because we knew he was right "Mr Lockley" I snapped turning towards the lady calling out to me "any news" I asked and walked to her swiftly she shook her head "she is still in surgery but I think it's best you head home we have your number for any updates on your friend".

My heart stung as she called yn our friend, I looked towards the mirror again and saw marc watching me with puffy eyes "ok gracius" I murmured and slowly walked out the door to my car "why are we abandoning her" steven shouted but I just ignored him and got in.

The drive was almost silent, Steven's shouts had turned into mutters and whispers, I was on autopilot I've driven there so many times I could do it blind folded "what are we doing here jake" marc spoke up for the first time "the least we can do is clean up the mess we caused" i muttered I closed my eyes and let steven take control.

Steven pov

I climbed up the stairs and with step getting closer my heart felt more shattered, I paused outside the broken door taking a long breath before pushing it open, I looked over all her ruined belongings "what have we done" I whispered and with shakey legs went inside.

My eyes locked on buddy's unmoving body I slowly went to sit close to him but not touch him, a single tear ran down my face as I stared at his blood covered fur I covered my face as the tears got worse "we could have saved them" my breathes quickened as I cried.

"If we just came earlier" I sunk further into myself with each word I spoke flashes of all the good memories we had filled my mind "she didn't deserve this" I whispered into my hands, "steven" I ignored marc and didn't even bother to look up "Steven" this time it was jake.

"What" I whispered my breath catching as I looked up "buddy" I asked causing the small dog to bark I looked around the apartment to see if this was a joke but no one else was there "buddy" I cried out in joy and brought the dog into my arms he squirmed in my arms and licked my face barking in excitement.

"H-how" I frowned my brows in confusion I looked behind me once more to see khonsu there "she is what we protect" he spoke calmly "she is the light no one shell extinguish" "thank you khonsu" I murmured and gently put buddy down.

My sadness felt lifted "let's fix this place up shell we" I smiled petting buddy one last time before standing up I sighed out and looked around the room "let's get to work" I murmured, I just did the basics like picking up all the broken pieces of her gadgets and shards of glass and putting back all her furniture back and when I was done with that I just felt like to do extra.

I washed all of her dirty clothes that were all over her bathroom floor, changed her bed sheets, I did the dishes sorted out her fridge and pantry even decided to vacuum and mop all her floors in till the place was spotless "good days work" I smiled admiring all of my hard work but suddenly a yawn escaped my lips "a quick nap won't hurt" I murmured and slowly collapsed onto her comfy couch.

Marc's pov

I stared at the familiar ceiling for I don't know how long its been about 5 days since the break in, I was stuck in my head for most of it, my hands softly petted buddy as he layed on my stomach I thought of many different ways we could have prevented this from happening or how I could stop this from happening in the future "we should go see her" steven murmured but I just sighed and moved buddy carefully off of me "she doesn't want to see us steven" I said and rubbed my face.

I looked towards the door as I heard nearing footsteps to the door the person knocked lightly and spoke "ms yn, it's the adoption agency" I tilted my head I confusion as I got up and opened the door "oh your not ms yn" the woman murmured looking down at her clip board in confusion "I'm her... friend im house sitting for a while may I help you with something" I sighed crossing my arms she nodded eagerly and brought out a cage that was behind her.

"Um this is her cat she has the food and everything the last time I check" the lady rambled and pushed the cage into my hands I nodded lifted the cage up to look in, my eyes softened as I saw the kitten we talked about adopting a few months perier "does he have a name yet" i asked "yes let's see here" she dragged her finger down the page "uh khonsau chandu I can't say that" the lady huffed and showed me the paper I laughed "khonsu" I whispered.

The lady nodded "here please sign here and here" I gently placed the cage inside and signed the paper "ok have a good day" the lady walked off hurriedly I closed the door quietly and slowly opened the cage so I didn't frighten it "come on little guy" I smiled to see the little kitten shyly walk out it looked around its surroundings his gaze landing on buddy who just sat patiently staring at him with curiosity I smiled fondly at the two.

My phone started to vibrate in my pocket and I took it out and answered it "hello" I murmured "hi Mr lockley, this is the hospital phoning to let you know ms yn is being released now and is being taken home I'm sure it would be easier if your there as well" I confirmed with the caller that I was already here "that is all thank you" the caller said before hanging up I popped my phone back into my pocket and took a deep breath "everything is going to be ok".

Yn pov

I stared out the window, he didn't come visit once maybe he hates me more now and just saved me out of guilt "we're almost there" the driver smiled back at me through the review mirror I gave him a forced smile back, I didn't want to go back and deal with the whole mess and... buddy I bit my lip I have to stay strong, my body trembled as the car came to a stop I felt weak and just wanted to srivel up and disappear "here we go ms" the driver opened up the door for me and helped me out.

"Do you need me to walk you u-" "I got it from here thanks" my eyes snapped to Marc's as he stepped out from my building the driver looked at me for confirmation I nodded slowly "ok have a nice day ms" the driver said before getting back in his car and driving off, I just stared at Marc not knowing what to saw "hi" he said nervously, I let out a shakey breathe "I'm sorry for getting you involved" I murmured making him frown his eyes in confusion "you don't have to apologize for that yn it wasn't your fault" he reassured walking up to me.

He wrapped his arm around me carefully "now come on we have a surprise for you" he smiled and helped me into the building "I swear Marc if you stuffed my dog I will chop of your balls" I murmured half jokingly, for some reason it almost feels like we're back to normal he chuckled and shook his head and urged me first into my apartment I hesitated for a minute "it's ok" he whispered rubbing his hand comfortly up and down my back I let out a sigh and opened up the door my eyes instantly widening.

"H-how" it was like time has been rewinded "buddy" I squealed out and caught the dog as he leaped into my arms I stumbled a bit but marc caught me "and look over there" he murmured his hands still around me as he pointed I looked over to see the cat I adopted slowly walking towards us I placed buddy and watched in aw as the two played, i glanced at marc to see him already staring at me, I felt my heart full once again "thank you guys" I smiled and leaned up onto my tip toes and layed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

He blushed and dark red his hands tighten around me keeping me close to him "I'm sorry yn" he whispered making me shake my head "you were only trying to protect me" I murmured "but that almost got you killed" I could see the tears welling up in his eyes I gently raised my hands to his face and caressed his cheeks "you did even though you ignored me the first time" I squinted my eyes playfully at him making him chuckle "you protect everyone every single day so you can protect me" I murmured and pecked his lips.

"I will always protect you, I thought I was by leaving you but it just shows me how much I need you and I'll never miss up like this again I promise you"

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@sweetirilly @greekgods15 @neteyamyawne

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winxanity-ii · 12 days ago

Text

⌜Catch Me If You Can | Chapter 08 Chapter 08 | serpents & shadows⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

The world blurred around you as the two of you tore through the woods at breakneck speed. Branches clawed at your arms and legs, roots snagged at your boots, and the golden glow of Apollo's wrath pulsed ominously behind you.

Hermes moved like smoke, effortlessly darting through the chaos as if the forest bent itself to his will, while you struggled to keep up, panting and stumbling over the uneven ground.

"Are we almost—" you gasped, breathless, but Hermes cut you off with a bright, maddening laugh.

"Not yet!" he called over his shoulder, his voice frustratingly chipper. "What's the rush? We've got all night!"

All night, indeed. The hours stretched endlessly as you ran, the dark woods closing in around you, and every time you thought your legs might give out, Hermes would glance back, his golden eyes gleaming with unspoken amusement.

By the time the trees started thinning and the first rays of morning light broke through, painting the forest in muted golds and soft greens, your legs felt like they might give out. The weightless satchel slung over your shoulder was the only mercy, though it didn't stop your muscles from screaming in protest.

Finally, as you reached the edge of the woods where a narrow dirt path stretched out before you, Hermes came to an abrupt halt. You nearly crashed into him, stumbling to a stop with a strangled gasp.

"What... now?" you managed, hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath.

Hermes didn't answer right away. He stood perfectly still, his golden eyes scanning the horizon with an uncharacteristic seriousness. His brows furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he hummed low in his throat.

"Eventually, he'll catch up," Hermes said finally, his voice quieter now, thoughtful. "Especially if we stay in the mortal plane."

Your stomach twisted at the implication. "So... what do we do?"

Hermes didn't respond immediately. His gaze turned inward, his fingers tapping lightly against the polished wood of his staff. His wings fluttered faintly, almost as if responding to his thoughts.

And then his eyes snapped to you, narrowing with sharp intensity.

"I wonder..." he muttered, his tone almost absent as he scratched his chin.

You bristled at this, biting your lip hard to swallow the sarcastic remark that nearly slipped out. Don't antagonize the god of thieves. Don't antagonize the god of thieves.

Hermes tilted his head, humming thoughtfully again before his expression shifted. His grin returned, wide and mischievous, and he clapped his hands together like he'd just solved a riddle. "Alright! Let's continue."

"...What?" you blurted, staring at him in disbelief as he turned and started walking down the winding dirt path ahead.

"Come on, little thief!" Hermes called over his shoulder, his tone light and teasing once more. "We've got places to be."

You groaned but followed, dragging your feet as exhaustion tugged at every step. "Mind telling me where we're going this time?"

"Patience," Hermes said, waving a hand as if brushing off the question. "I have a few ideas. Apollo can't watch everywhere at once, now can he?"

You frowned, your suspicion bubbling back to the surface despite your fatigue. "You mean you don't know yet."

Hermes snorted, his smirk visible even from behind. "Oh, I know plenty, little thief. The real question is, how lucky are you feeling today?"

Your lips pressed into a thin line, and you glared at the back of his head. But you couldn't deny it—wherever Hermes was leading you, it was better than standing still.

Still, as the two of you trudged down the dirt path, the golden light of dawn casting long shadows around you, the weight of Apollo's anger lingered like a storm on the horizon.

You couldn't help but wonder what Hermes was planning—and whether you'd live long enough to find out. His steps were light and confident, his staff tapping the ground rhythmically as if the chaos around you didn't exist.

He led you through places you couldn't have imagined, taking shortcuts through mortal villages, vast divine realms, and strange in-between spaces where reality itself seemed to shift.

After what felt like hours of walking in silence, the forest began to change. The trees thinned and twisted unnaturally, their branches curling like fingers pointing the way. The golden warmth of morning faded, giving way to a strange, muted stillness.

The first stop was a mortal village, but something was wrong. Time stood still here. Villagers were frozen mid-step, their faces caught in expressions of joy, frustration, or confusion.

A woman balanced a basket on her hip, her other hand reaching for a door handle that would never turn.

A dog hovered mid-leap, its jaws stretched wide as if barking at something unseen.

"What is this place?" you whispered, your voice barely carrying in the eerie silence.

"Ah," Hermes said, grinning as he glanced over his shoulder. "Just a little detour. Time's on pause here, thanks to a hiccup in the mortal flow. Charming, isn't it?"

"Charming is not the word I'd use," you muttered, shivering as you stepped carefully around a frozen child, her hand outstretched toward a ball suspended midair.

Before you could question further, Hermes tugged you onward, and the village melted away, replaced by a vast canyon with walls that seemed alive.

The stone shifted subtly, rippling like water in a breeze. You swore you could see faces etched into the rock—faces that moved, their expressions flickering between sorrow and rage.

"Don't stare too long," Hermes warned, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "They don't like that."

You swallowed hard, tearing your gaze away as the canyon narrowed, its shifting walls brushing dangerously close to your shoulders. Great. Just great, add moody sentient rock walls to my growing list of things to avoid.

Hermes, of course, moved effortlessly through the space, his wings fluttering faintly as he glided ahead.

And then, as if the canyon had never existed, you stepped into a world where reality seemed to defy logic entirely.

The sky was a patchwork of colors that shifted with every blink—red to green to deep indigo. The people here were... different. Half-human, half-animal hybrids walked casually among one another, their fur, scales, and feathers gleaming under the strange, shifting light.

A woman with feline ears and a long tail passed by, balancing a stack of baskets on her head. Nearby, a man with wings sprouting from his back barked orders to a group of children with webbed hands and gills.

"Where are we?" you asked, your voice shaky as you tried to keep your focus on Hermes.

"Bestialis," Hermes said simply, not bothering to elaborate.

He moved through these realms with effortless grace, always a step ahead, always knowing exactly where to go. You, on the other hand, scrambled to keep up, your heart racing as the surreal landscapes shifted around you.

Hermes, naturally, found your struggles hilarious.

"Keep up, little thief!" he called, glancing back with a grin. "Or do you need me to carry you?"

"Don't tempt me," you grumbled, nearly tripping over a root that hadn't been there a second ago.

But as you moved, you began to notice a pattern. No matter where Hermes led you, Apollo's omens followed.

Golden flames flickered in the shadows, their light casting unnatural shapes against the ground.

Whispers echoed through the wind, soft and unintelligible but always carrying the same weight—a reminder of the god's wrath.

Animals with glowing eyes watched from the edges of your vision, their stares unblinking and unnerving.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore.

"What in Hades is going on?" you demanded after a particularly unsettling moment where a deer with golden tears streaking down its face appeared, only to vanish as you blinked.

"Oh," Hermes said, snapping his fingers as if he'd just remembered something trivial. "I forgot to tell you—Apollo's curses follow you until he's satisfied." He flashed you a wicked grin. "Have fun with that!"

You nearly tripped again, your voice rising in disbelief. "And you're just now telling me this?!"

"I figured you'd notice eventually," Hermes said with a shrug, his smirk maddeningly bright. "Besides, it's not all bad. Adds a bit of spice to the chase, doesn't it?"

"Are you helping me or making it worse!?"

Hermes tilted his head, tapping his chin theatrically. "Both, probably."

You glared at him, your fists clenched at your sides, but you didn't have time to argue. The golden flames flickered again, closer this time, and you pressed on.

Still, as you followed him through these strange, shifting places, you began to notice little things about Hermes.

He was always a step ahead—literally and figuratively—guiding you with an ease that bordered on instinct. But sometimes, when he thought you weren't looking, his grin faltered, replaced by something almost... thoughtful.

You caught him tensing once when Apollo's presence grew stronger, his fingers tightening subtly on his staff. And though he mocked you mercilessly, he was always quick to pull you out of harm's way, his sharp eyes scanning for dangers you didn't even notice.

He wouldn't admit it—not in a thousand years—but it almost seemed like he cared.

Almost.

.☆. .✩. .☆.

Currently, the two of you were walking through a strange, surreal place—a space between worlds.

The air shimmered with a swirling mist that seemed alive, constantly shifting and morphing into tendrils of soft blues, vibrant pinks, and eerie silvers.

Echoes of laughter, faint and haunting, rippled through the air, as if the voices of long-forgotten wanderers were trapped in the folds of this in-between place.

The ground beneath your feet wasn't ground at all, not really. It looked solid but rippled slightly with each step, like walking across a shallow pond that refused to get you wet.

The air smelled faintly of ozone and something sweet you couldn't place, and every now and then, a flicker of light darted across the horizon—too fast and fleeting to catch.

"What is this place?" you asked, your voice hushed despite yourself.

"Well, aren't you just full of questions?" Hermes sarcastically smiled before grumbling under his breath, "You've got more questions than a sphinx on a slow day."

You snapped back without missing a beat, "Well, excuse me for wanting to know about the mythical nonsense that might kill me at any moment."

He stopped spinning his staff for a moment, giving you a look that was equal parts amusement and exasperation before huffing a quiet laugh. "Fine. It's called The Seam—a sliver between here and there, where the rules... bend a little."

His casual tone didn't do much to ease your nerves, especially as the shimmering mist coiled closer, almost as if it were listening.

You hugged the satchel tighter to your side and muttered, "That's reassuring."

Hermes only grinned, his golden eyes gleaming with mischief as he strode ahead. "Don't worry. It's not the rules breaking you need to worry about. It's what's watching while they bend."

"Like I said, exactly as comforting as I expected." Your eyes scanned the ever-shifting mist.

As you walked, your attention caught on something ahead—a fissure in the ground that glowed faintly with an otherworldly light. You couldn't help but stop, peering down into it.

The crack wasn't just a break in the surface. It swirled.

Colors danced within it—deep reds, greens, and golds twisting together in hypnotic patterns.

The longer you stared, the more you realized you could hear faint voices emanating from it, soft and indistinct. They weren't loud enough to understand, but something about them tugged at your curiosity, drawing you closer.

Before you realized it, you were leaning over, your body tilting forward instinctively to hear the voices better.

The sound was strange, not quite words, but almost... a memory? You weren't sure, but you wanted to know—

Your foot slipped.

"Ah!" Your arms flailed wildly, grasping at empty air as you felt yourself tipping forward. Your heart plummeted, the swirling crack beneath you glowing brighter, its strange light stretching upward as if to meet you.

Before you could fall completely, a firm hand grabbed the back of your shirt, yanking you backward with a force that nearly sent you sprawling onto your rear.

"Whoa there!" Hermes' voice was bright, almost teasing, as he hauled you upright. "Careful! That's a crack in reality—you wouldn't want to fall in."

Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, your pulse pounding in your ears. For a split second, your foot had dangled over the edge, and you swore you'd felt the pull of whatever was inside that crack.

You shot a weak glare at Hermes, your lips trembling slightly as you tried to regain your composure.

"S-Shut up," you muttered, your voice shaky as you brushed yourself off and moved forward, desperate to put some distance between you and the fissure.

Hermes, of course, was grinning like this was all part of the plan, his golden eyes sparkling with amusement as he followed behind. "Really, little thief," he said, spinning his staff lazily. "If you keep stumbling like that, I might start charging for rescues."

You didn't dignify that with a response, keeping your gaze forward as you pressed on through the mist. Your heart was still racing, but you refused to let him see just how rattled you were.

Behind you, Hermes chuckled softly, the sound carrying through the strange air like a melody, warm and maddening all at once.

☆

After what felt like forever, the mist began to thin, revealing more solid ground beneath your feet. The ever-shifting colors around you faded into muted tones, though the whispers and faint echoes lingered like a dream you couldn't quite wake from.

You trudged along behind Hermes, the weightless satchel bouncing lightly at your side. Exhaustion weighed heavy on your limbs, but your curiosity and the sheer strangeness of this place kept your mind too restless to fully collapse.

As you walked, you noticed Hermes tapping his staff against the ground in a steady rhythm, his gaze distant as though he was deep in thought. The staff was always in motion—spinning, bouncing, or resting across his shoulders like an afterthought.

Then, you caught sight of Hermes' staff as it gave a sudden jolt, the twin serpents coiled around it seemingly shifting. You blinked, assuming it was a trick of the light until one of the serpents lifted its head and yawned.

"What the..." you breathed, stumbling back slightly as the second snake stirred as well, its scales shimmering faintly with golden hues. Both snakes unraveled slightly, the upper half of their slender forms lifting off the staff while the rest remained coiled tightly around the polished wood.

They were small, no thicker than your wrist; they moved with fluid grace, their heads darting about as if testing the air like excited hatchlings.

The bronze one on the left stretched upward, its forked tongue flicking out before it tilted its small head to look at you. "Ssshe'sss ssstaring at usss," it said, its voice high-pitched and childlike.

"Of courssse she's ssstaring at usss," the gold one on the right replied, its tone equally whiny but with a hint of smugness. "We're impressssive."

"Hermes!" you hissed, pointing at the creatures as one of them looped lazily through the air. "Your staff is alive!"

Hermes sighed dramatically. "Of course they're alive. Meet Aceso and Panacea." He waved a dismissive hand before glancing at the snakes out of the corner of his eye. "And will you two behave?"

Aceso—the bronze one—darted toward you, its forked tongue flicking out as it stared curiously. Its voice, high-pitched and almost childlike, echoed in your head. "Food? When do we get food?"

"Yesss!" chimed Panacea—the gold one—snaking around Hermes' hand. "You promisssed food! Where isss it?"

Hermes groaned, rubbing his temples as if the two's whining were giving him a migraine. "Yes, yes, I know what I said. Just... quiet down, would you? We're in the middle of something important."

"Important?" you repeated, incredulous, Aceso darted closer, wrapping itself loosely around your wrist. Its scales were warm against your skin, and its tiny golden eyes peered up at you with an almost unnerving amount of intelligence.

"Exciting isss more like it," Panacea giggled, unweaving from Hermes' staff before darting down to inspect your satchel.

"Oh, for the love of—" Hermes muttered, swatting lightly at Panacea. "They're not dangerous. Just dramatic." He thumps his staff against the ground once again, jostling the little reptiles. "I just got you two, and you're already driving me mad."

"You choossse usss!" Aceso protested, uncurling from around your wrist in a lazy loop. "You sssaid it'd be cool!"

"Yesss," Panacea added, slithering dramatically. "But it'sss not cool! All this walking and no food? Sssuch a disssappointment! Ssso lame!"

You stared, dumbfounded, at the two snakes as they continued their bizarre back-and-forth. "How...? Are they talking?!" you managed to ask, your voice rising an octave.

"Unfortunately," Hermes muttered, glaring at the snakes as they whined in unison. "Enchanted serpents have been a part of my staff since the old day, though let's just say they're not the originals. They're... fresh out of the egg, you might say."

"Fresh out of the egg?"

"They're still adjusting," Hermes said with a shrug.

"And we regret joining! This isss boring!"

"Yesss, boring! No food, no excitement—ugh!"

Hermes ignored them. "Which also means I haven't had time to teach them how to be useful."

"Ussseful?!" Aceso gasped, coiling in mock offense. "We are ussseful!"

"Yesss, like how we're alwaysss keeping you entertained," Panacea added smugly.

Hermes rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath about regretting every decision that had led to this moment.

The snakes turned their attention back to you, their small, beady eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Ssshe'sss funny-looking," Panacea whispered loudly, earning a scowl from you.

"Ssshe alssso sssmellsss weird," Aceso added, tilting its head.

Your jaw dropped. "Excuse me?!"

The indignation flared hotter because it wasn't just an insult—it was coming from them. Your eyes flicked to Aceso, who had just been coiled around your wrist not a moment ago, nuzzling you like a newfound best friend. And now? It darted through the air as if it hadn't practically purred at your touch.

Hermes snorted, clearly amused despite himself. "Oh, don't mind them. They're still learning manners... or the lack thereof."

Fake, you thought bitterly. Completely fake. Aceso, with its high-pitched whining and dramatic coils, was the worst offender. It had been practically singing your praises moments ago, and now it was sniffing at you like a suspicious stranger.

Suddenly, an idea struck you then—one that reminded you of an old circus performer you'd watched as a child. He had been a snake charmer, soothing his creatures with oils and whispered words.

Digging into your satchel, you pulled out a small vial of oil you kept for your dry skin—and occasionally slipping out of ropes when you got caught. You poured a bit onto your fingers, rubbing them together before holding them out toward the snakes.

The snakes paused mid-squabble, their forked tongues flicking out curiously.

"What'sss that?"

"It sssmellsss nice."

Slowly, Aceso slithered back toward your hand, its tiny scales glinting faintly in the fading mist. You held still, your heart racing as the snake's small head dipped forward to sniff the oil; its tiny body shuddered before it let out a delighted hiss, nuzzling your fingers like an overexcited puppy. "It'sss ssslippery."

Panacea darted over, sniffing at the oil on your fingers before letting out a similarly pleased hiss. "I like thisss one!"

"Me too! You're better than him!" Aceso pointed its small head toward Hermes, who rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Traitors. The lot of you." Hermes muttered, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You smirked, stroking the Panacea as it curled closer. "Maybe they just needed someone with a better touch," you said smugly.

"They needed someone who spoils them," Hermes corrected, shaking his head. "You've created a problem for yourself, little thief, because that"—he pointed to the two snakes hissing in happiness—"is something I refuse to make part of my daily routine. I'm afraid they'll never leave you alone now."

The snakes hissed softly, clearly satisfied, as they returned to coiling themselves partially around the staff. The upper halves of their bodies remained free, however, darting occasionally to inspect you with curiosity.

As you continued walking, the serpents' warmth lingered on your skin, and for a brief moment, the strange, shifting mist around you seemed less oppressive. The laughter in the distance grew faint, fading into soft whispers before vanishing entirely.

You wouldn't admit it—not even to yourself—but there was something oddly comforting about the snakes' playful antics and the constant presence of Hermes, smug as he was.

A/N: okay, confession time: I recently rewatched Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightning Thief (don't judge me; nostalgia hit hard 😩), and I couldn't resist adding Hermes' iconic staff snakes! Aceso and Panacea just slid right into this story like they've been waiting for their moment in the spotlight. I mean, how could I not? two sassy little snake gremlins that talk, complain, and have their own personalities? Perfect.

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littlemarianah · 9 months ago

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Now after this post you have to write a smut of Peeta and Katniss fucking in nature.

in response to this post.

Alright then, we all know that everlark is wild and raw! So I'll do it.

I lay down on the sand listening to the sound of lake water in my ear. On this sunny summer afternoon, after eating all those wild fruits we found on the way here. Everything seemed perfect. I spread my body on the warm sand and relax.

I hear Peeta start to draw on the paper, those rough chalks on the smooth sheet of paper. He puts the picnic blanket on the floor and sat down next to me. He doesn't like lying in the ground with nothing in between his butt from the dirt. It's silly, I laugh.

"What is it?" he asks, looking at me with his blond eyelashes shining in the sunlight. He looks so handsome today, his forehead is sweaty from the summer heat. There's only one thing that can make this afternoon better.

"I want you to kiss me." I say.

"Okay then." Peeta puts down the sheets of paper and leans over my body, giving me a peck on the lips, still tasting like wild strawberries.

"No, Peet. Give me a real kiss." I beg. He smiles, pleased to see me beg, but I don't care. He kisses me again, with a soft mouth this time, letting me use my tongue. When his hands touch my neck and his fingers tangle in my hair I feel such a strong heat in my stomach that I lose my breath. The feeling grows and spreads throughout my body making my face burn. My hands cup his cheeks and I bring him closer, if that's even possible. I want him with everything in my body. I want to devour him. I want more.

My hands go up to his hair, the more his lips move on mine, the more I feel like it's impossible not to have him for me right now. I lift my sundress up to the middle of my stomach, Peeta glances over and looks surprised. "Oh, love." he says breathlessly. "Do you really want to do this in the sand?”

"Please, Peeta." I say sighing.

He purses his lips, taking courage and wipes his hand on his shirt for a considerable time. He touches me through the fabric of my panties. It's enough to make my eyes soften and my head fall back. His eyes shine on mine and he kisses me again. This time, fiercely. With his hands running circles over my clitoris. It's not wonderful, but it's the spark I need to go crazy. I suck his lips with mine, I let my voice come out without any shame. We are in the middle of the forest, who could hear us?

My feet sink into the sand the more my body moves in pleasure. I take my hands to the hem of Peeta's pants and try undo his belt. I'm a little too dizzy to do this alone, so he helps me. It seems to me that he is also eager to have me because it takes him a little too long to get his pants down.

"You always catch me off guard." he says. I dig my fingers into the sand as he drags my underwear out. I open my legs and he lies between them. My lips tremble in anticipation of what is to come. I can't look away from his blue eyes.

He slides inside me and he lets out a moan so deep that it makes my belly burn. His voice sounds so good in my ears. I feel the difference there is when he doesn't put his fingers in first. He opens me up and I tighten around him. It's maddening. My body is so weak, that my arms can barely wrap around his neck. My eyes close. I lose my breath, my chest starts rises and falls so fast it feels like I'm hyperventilating.

I open my eyes again, and see him looking at me, just as stun as I am. His eyes don't leave mine for a second, blue and bright, wanting me so fiercely that it sends a shiver down my spine. Peeta pushes my leg open, being able to go a little deeper. I don't want to look into his eyes anymore, my moans are louder and more acute than I would like them to be, following my trembling breath.

“Katniss... is it good like that? ." Peeta whispers, I give an angry growl at his question. As if I wasn't already acting completely crazy under him. I refuse to answer. His lips come and touch mine, they crush each other. Gasps come out of his mouth and his tongue vibrates with his moans. "Tell me if it's good." he repeats the question.

I take a deep breath and hug his neck. "Obviously it's good." I moan.

That's it, guys. I let your imagination flow now. 🫣🤧 I'm tired lol Maybe one day I'll finish it and put it on Ao3

#tw: suggestive #the hunger games #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #everlark #thanks for the ask!#everlark smut

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umbral-archives · 3 months ago

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Kinktober 2024: Day 8 | Boot Worship Breeding + Murdock

Rating: NSFW MINORS DNI

AFAB!Reader/Femme

Pairing: Murdock (Markiplier CU) x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Breeding Kink, Eldritch Anatomy, Tentacles, Pet Names, Risk/Intent Kink, Helplesssness Kink, Risky Sex, Dirty Talk, Dubcon to Hell and back your honor, Murdock is just a nasty fucker ok

I can't write boot worship worth a shit so we're doin this. Also be aware that this is my brand of breeding kink. No, nothing happens. My brand.

My brand! i have speshul eyes 👁👁

Word Count: 916

Ragged, gasping breaths and desperate noises scatter into the air, puffs of condensed steam mingling together before fading into the twilight. Autumn chill nips at your bare skin, but the human-shaped space heater beneath you more than makes up for the cooler weather.

So focused you are on your pleasure, you barely register the cold now.

Murdock fucks up into you ruthlessly, wantonly–an overwhelming need meeting the desperate cant of your hips down onto his cock. Each thrust–god you can practically feel him in your throat–knocks the wind out of you, scattering your already hair-thin self control and tipping the scales in his favor yet again.

Greedy bastard.

This had all started out in a rare instance of you initiating, riding him–trying to regulate the encounter on your terms. Controlling the speed, the depth, teasing him–trying to get him to cum first.

A tall order with his stamina, but you’re no quitter.

Oh, but then you had to go and get cocky at a particularly uncharacteristic noise he made, reeling from an adrenaline high. You’d made some offhand comment, grinding down on his cock languidly–and the look he shot you when you stopped…

Murdock is never one to let hubris go unpunished.

And here you are. Forced to cum on his cock again and again, your mind systematically turned to mush, leaking out of your ears with the rest of your self control. Lost to sensation, to his sinful words and the inevitable end of your encounter–

Which is coming much sooner than you realize.

Murdock’s thrusts intensify, dragging you down onto his cock, jolting an incoherent cry from deep in your chest. Your hands splay across his bare chest as you try to reclaim some sort of balance but he doesn’t let you, firmly gripping your hips and fucking up into you with abandon. Practiced, intentional–he knows exactly what pace to take, which angle has you at your weakest.

Pliant for him.

You can feel yet another orgasm rushing up to meet you, that abused coil tightening up yet again, breath catching as you struggle to fight it. It almost feels wrong to do so, so attuned you are to his desires–but you started this, you want to end it on your terms.

So you struggle power from him the only way you know how: denial.

“N-No-” you choke out, trying to squirm out of his grip.

Murdock doesn’t stop, eyes glinting with a dangerous light as he slows down just enough to grind up into you. Forcing your clit against his pubic bone, delighting in the little squeaks each maddening swirl earns him.

“No?” he echoes mockingly, leaning up from his seat. You look absolutely wrecked and it does nothing but inflate his ego further. “Since when are you into edging, Sweetheart?”

You shake your head, pushing at his chest, trying and failing to get up out of his lap. “D-Don’t w-wanna cum-”

And that’s when he understands–at least his version of understanding. Your little helplessness kink, denial on the grounds of dubcon. Resistance.

Too bad he’s not into games, not when he’s this close.

Murdock smiles cruelly. Something small, devious and black flickers into existence by your hip. The newly manifested tentacle attacks your clit at the same time Murdock begins his pace anew–and every conceived plan of yours falls to threads in your mind.

Each thrust drags you closer and closer to that inevitable cliff, every twitch of that little bastard tentacle forcing you much faster than you thought possible. Within seconds, you’re curling up over him, mouth caught in a soundless scream, all but begging him for more and–

Then it all stops.

Murdock stops. Leaves you wailing, twitching, right on that blissful edge of oblivion, dragging you off his cock just as easily as you sank down upon it. You collapse onto his chest, squirming, incoherent pleas caught in your throat, desperation taking over and it burns.

That kind of denial always burns–

The world tilts suddenly and you’re on something soft–warm leather and the scent of pine, Murdock’s coat beneath you–before a heavy presence behind you brings you back to reality. Murdock’s hand around your throat, forcing you face down, ass up as he practically mounts you.

Balls deep before you can think, a languid thrust that forces all thought from your head, the breath form your lungs. Pressing your face into the soft fabric of his coat, muffling your incoherent sounds.

Your arms and legs tremble as you squirm, try to regain control enough to push back- but then there’s the familiar sensation of tendrils winding up your arms, pulling them behind your back and securing them there.

Shit– hell, where did this come from–

“There we go,” he rumbles from above you, breathless and hungry in his own right. Open-mouthed kisses against your shoulder, his warm breath against your ear. “Pretty little thing… you can’t expect me to deny you this, can you?”

“M-Murdock, wait-” you gasp out, cut off when another full-body thrust jolts you forward, a tentacle wound around your hips dragging you back into it. Hitting deep. Right where you need him.

“Especially with what day it is-”

Shit– Fuck– Oh god wait– Yesyesyesyes–

A shameful thrill shudders up your spine and he feels you clench around him, all the indicator he needs to resume that bone-rattling pace, fucking you into the back seat of his Challenger.

“M-Murdock!”

“That’s it, Sweetheart, fuck–keep saying my name. Missed this greedy little cunt-held off for a while, know how much you need it. We’re gonna make sure it takes this time.”

#murder bastard 🗡#my writing #idk who to evil heehee so heehee (general)#i'm being so real be aware of the tags #this is my brand of breeding kink #and if you know me #you know it's an INTENT kink #like this man is TRYING #Fighting god/the entire 1987 denver broncos team/tony soprano/etc #to get this bred #yknow how he is #absolutely fucking stinky god #AWFUL STINKY #afab!reader

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jumpywhumpywriter · 5 months ago

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"I Want You to Scream" -- Hero Tortured by Villain, Intimate Whumper part 4

Warnings: betrayal, PTSD, chains/restraints, severe torture, blood, cauterization, iron rod branding, knives, intimate whump, etc.

The poll I posted asking which of my stories people wanted me to continue most is over, and this was the #1 most wanted continuation!! So as promised, here's a new chapter for it! I'm always open to continuing other stories too if requested.

The last thing he was aware of was someone taking the metal cuffs off his wrists before the darkness claimed him completely.

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

Hero woke up screaming. His whole body was on fire with agony, there was something stuck to his face, and several sharp things buried in his arms. He started clawing frantically at the thing on his face, hyperventilating because he couldn't breathe right -- but strong hands grabbed his wrists and kept them down.

"It's okay, it's just an oxygen mask," a soothing voice said, but it sounded too far away, hard to hear over the blood roaring in his ears, his own terrified, skittering pulse. And his vision was blurry, all he could make out was the dark silhouette of a person looming over him.

Where am I? WHERE AM I?! Hero fought hard against the firm hold, a ragged wail escaping him as another wave of pain washed over him.

"Can't you do something?!" The voice hovering over him said.

"I'm working on it! He wasn't supposed to wake up so fast!" A second unknown voice barked.

Hero panicked, thrashing and struggling as much as his ravaged body would allow, maddening screams filling the room as several pairs of hands grabbed his limbs, pinning him down. Vaguely familiar voices were talking all around him, but he couldn't figure out where he knew them from.

An animalistic, primal fear reared up inside him, the desperation to get away and escape -- but there were too many enemies, too many hands subduing him. Amidst his weak flailing, something sharp pricked him in the shoulder, and he felt a cold liquid flood into his veins. A needle. What was he being injected with?? What was this some new form of torture?!

His struggles were lessening, his heartbeat slowing against his will despite the adrenaline pounding through him. He tried to scream again as another agonizing muscle spasm ripped through him, he really did, but the sound only ended in a high whine.

Someone's fingers were running soothingly through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. At first Hero flinched, throwing his head to the side to escape the contact -- but then he focused on the feeling, using it to distract himself. It felt good, he admitted, and he was desperate to cling on to any sensation that wasn't more blinding pain.

Hero instinctively leaned into the soft touch with a pathetic whimper, craving even the most basic touches of kindness.

"It's okay to let go, let it all slip away..." a voice murmured.

But Hero was terrified of the darkness closing in on him, dragging him back. The edges of the world were turning an awful shade of black, sapping his sight away.

It's okay to let go...

It's okay.... to let go...

He latched on to the words, the echoing thoughts slowly dying out in his mind... until the empty void that awaited him swallowed him completely.

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

The crawl back to consciousness was much harder this time, like wading through thick mud. The first thing Hero noticed is that he wasn't in searing agony like before -- the pain was still there, sharp and insistent, but lessened to a throbbing ache. But even so, his anxiety climbed. He still didn't know where he was, what was happening. Had Villain taken him back to her lair to torture him further? The hands that had pinned him earlier... who knows how long ago it was... did they belong to her henchmen?

He could hear a quiet beeping noise that kicked up a notch in speed, beeping faster, and through his delirious mind he somehow recognized it as a heart monitor. But if that was the case, was he in a hospital? Villain would never give him medical luxuries like this.

"His heart rate's spiking too fast." A gruff voice made him jump in his skin, heart springing to his throat with fear. "I'm gonna have to knock him out again before it climbs too high."

"Wait, let me try something first." A new voice, right next to where Hero was laying. "Hero? Can you hear me? Are you awake?"

Hero hesitated, then twitched his hand in acknowledgment -- he hardly had the strength for anything more. His pulse calmed a little at the genuine concern lacing the voice -- concern for him meant he wouldn't be hurt, he reasoned.

It took a gargantuan amount of effort, but Hero managed to slowly crack his eyes open, blinking dizzily until his vision focused on the face looming over him.

"...Sidekick?" He whispered hoarsely in disbelief, his voice barely more than a raspy breath of air from all the screaming.

A choked sob, and then someone was hugging him, arms wrapping tight around his torso in an awkward embrace on the medical bed. At first Hero recoiled, but relaxed a second later at the familiar presence. He was safe. He didn't know how, but he was at the hero headquarters in the medical bay, he was sure of it now. How else would Sidekick be here? And the first voice -- it must have been Medic's.

"What... happened?" Hero croaked, noticing how dry and parched his mouth was. How long had he been out...?

Sidekick's gaze dropped to the floor, his demeanor turning uneasy and tense. "Our team tracked you down just in time to get the drop on Villain," he started. "But it was bad. We thought we were too late, there was so much blood everywhere..." Sidekick grimaced. "Half of us thought you'd die on the way here... you needed a lot of work from Medic and a bunch of blood transfusions to save you."

"And Villain...?" Hero trailed off expectantly, but his stomach twisted with fear and nausea at the brief pause that followed his words.

"...She got away," Sidekick mumbled.

Hero's chest seized, it was hard to breathe. "...How?" His voice came out in a racking cough that shook his whole body.

"We barged in and thought we got the drop on her, but she had everything planned out from the start, Hero. She was already five, no, ten steps ahead. The instant we kicked down the door she jumped out the window and fled. And she even left a note. She knew we'd find you like that. She wanted us to." Sidekick's lip curled with disgust and hatred.

Hero wet his lips uncomfortably, apprehensive with sudden fear as he remembered the one thing he hadn't brought up yet. "Sidekick -- about those pictures of me on the bed--"

Sidekick raised a hand to cut him off, and Hero's mouth instantly clicked shut.

"You don't have to worry about any of that, the whole team knows you'd never agree to something like that of your own free will. Villain tried to create a trust rift between us, but failed. We believe in you, Hero. You've done nothing wrong."

Maybe not this time... but I did do something wrong in the past. So terribly wrong, Hero though miserably. A rattling breath wheezed out of his lungs as he sighed. Then he stiffened, remembering.

"Sidekick, about Villain..." He chewed the inside of his cheek, mulling over his words before speaking. "Villain isn't just another criminal... she's Old Hero."

Even the heart monitors themselves seemed to go quiet at that in shock.

"She... what?" Sidekick sputtered, then whirled to face Medic, who had been watching things unfold without saying a word. "Just how much pain meds did you give him?!"

"I'm not that high," Hero rasped indignantly. "And I'm serious. Villain is Old Hero. The same hero thought to have been killed by the citizens after I revealed her affair with a villain. Everything that's happening right now... it's all my fault. I shouldn't have gone sticking my nose into other heroes' business. If I'd just kept quiet when I learned about what Old Hero was spending her free time doing--" his breath hitched, and he swallowed dryly.

"So that's how Villain's stayed so many steps ahead of our team," Sidekick breathed with dawning realization. "It's because she knows us. Our strengths, our weaknesses, our tells in a fight... no wonder we haven't caught her yet! Because she used to be one of us." His voice came out in a hiss, eyes huge as he started pacing anxiously next to the medical bed.

"So that's why--the note she left--" Sidekick shook his head grimly, talking to himself.

"...What did the note say?" Hero hesitantly asked. He wasn't completely sure he wanted the answer.

Sidekick's alarmed eyes flicked up to meet his, and he reluctantly pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket to read aloud. "It says... 'Say hi to (Superhero's real name) for me, she's next on the list. P.S, Hero might need therapy'. And then... a smiley winking face emoji?"

Hero snorted a humorless laugh. "Yup, sounds like Old Hero all right."

Sidekick's face was ashen. "You weren't lying... Villain really is Old Hero. How could we have not seen it sooner..."

"Villain played her masks well," Hero admitted grimly. "That's why she was the best undercover spy in our hero team. She can don a dozen different personalities on a whim." His heart sank to his stomach, and he sat himself up with a grunt, carefully pulling out IV lines from his arms, white gauze shifting with his movements. "I need to talk to the other heroes, after I get cleaned up. We need to make a plan, and fast, before Villain makes her move. Knowing her, she'll use the ripples of shock she created by torturing me to slip inside our base of operations unseen while everyone's busy worrying over me."

Sidekick suddenly looked nervous, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. Suspicious. "Oh, uh, I don't think you should be moving just yet--"

"Sidekick."

"You must be exhausted after your ordeal, why don't you just take it eas--"

"Sidekick." Hero said it more firmly this time, his voice shaky but stern. "Why don't you want me to get up yet?"

Sidekick's gaze dropped to the floor, filled with guilt and sorrow, two emotions Hero hadn't expected. "Ah, it's... it's your wounds, I--" he glanced over at Medic for help. "C-Can you tell him instead?" He squeaked.

Medic quickly raised his hands, scooting his chair back. "I'd rather not. I'm the one who spent hours patching Hero up, that should earn me a break."

Sidekick's shoulders drooped, his face crumpling as he turned back to Hero. "It's hard to explain... it might be better if I show you instead..." His voice was a strained whisper. Why was everyone so uneasy about Hero's wounds? It wasn't like they hadn't seen vicious battle wounds before.

Hero's stomach churned with unease at how cryptic Sidekick's words were, but he nodded, sliding over the edge of the medical bed to try out his legs -- and promptly collapsed. Not even the strong painkillers in his system could override the blasting agony that streaked up his whole back and shoulders. The intensity stole his breath away, leaving him drowning in air -- before arms caught him, holding him up so he didn't hit the floor.

Hero instinctively jerked away from the hands with a terrified shout, because for one second he was back with Villain, at her mercy as she cut into him again and again -- for one second, he could feel the hands disguised as help turn right back into hurt.

"Hero! It's me! Calm down!" Hero snapped back to himself, head swimming as a low whine escaped parted lips. He hadn't realized he was shaking so hard, trembling violently as Sidekick held him to his chest. He sucked in shallow, uneven breaths, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to spook you," Sidekick hastily apologized. "I didn't think about how you'd react, given what you've been through..."

Hero felt cold fingers on his wrist, and realized that Medic had appeared right next to Sidekick, checking his pulse with worried eyes.

"I'm f-fine," Hero snapped a little less-than-convincingly, shoving Medic's hand away. Medic let it happen, and shared a glance with Sidekick before backing off.

"Come on, let's get you to a washroom," Sidekick muttered, and slung one of Hero's arms across his shoulders, pulling him up.

Hero gasped at the pain that speared him, but it was a little more bearable now that he'd braced himself for it. He leaned heavily against Sidekick for support as Sidekick guided him out of the medical wing.

But Sidekick hesitated once they reached the bathroom door. Hero was the one who took the first step in, taking his arm off Sidekick and limping on his own until he reached the sinks, a giant mirror mounted above them.

"Hero, you might want to wait before you--" Sidekick started to speak, but Hero was already ripping his shirt off, tugging at the gauze and bandages wrapped around him. He winced and flinched in pain at every small movement, and soon he felt Sidekick's presence standing right behind him, and could see his friend's reflection in the mirror as he wordlessly helped remove the medical dressings one by one without comment.

Hero froze when the last of it was discarded, leaving his torso bare. He gaped in horror at the mirror, shocked at the extent of the damage.

On the front of his shoulder a large emblem was emblazoned into angry red flesh, charred and blistered around the edges. Villain's mark from when she was Old Hero. It was perfect, too perfect, clear that Villain had taken great care to make it last and make sure the shape was pristine. A permanent brand from his torturer. Every time he ever saw himself again, he'd be forced to remember her. For the rest of his life.

Hero swallowed the bile in his throat as he angled himself to see his back, and had to force himself not to gag and vomit on the spot. His back was practically shredded, long lines of dried red criss-crossed over his skin. It made a pattern -- an intricate form of art, and what was worse was that it was his own hero emblem. A star with a triangle in the middle. The same sign engraved into every piece of the hero suit he wore to battle, the emblem that gave people hope when they saw it.

Seeing the wounds like that hurt Hero on a deeper level. And that was exactly what Villain had intended, he knew. Villain was one who always went right for the heart above all else.

'The best way to break someone is to leave something behind that will last an eternity,' she'd once told him. 'Physical pain is temporary. It hurts and then it's gone. But invisible pain? That stuff will stay with you... forever.' Hero had found the words odd at the time, spoken by Old Hero as she sat with him on the roof of a skyscraper drinking wine over the latest victory thanks to her skills. The irony was revolting.

"...Hero?" Sidekick's worried voice brought him back from the haunting memories, and he realized he had a white-knuckled grip on the sink ledge.

His stomach lurched violently, nausea rushing up his throat, and he couldn't stop himself from retching, heaving the last feeding tube-fed meal into the sink. His body was shaking when it was finally over, and he spat a last mouthful of bile and stomach acid out before wiping his mouth with a towel.

He felt like crying, like shouting, like screaming at the ceiling how unfair it was. All his anger, the excruciating pain he was in both inside and out… it was too much to handle. But Sidekick was here with him. And he didn't want to fall apart in front of his teammate. He wanted to cling to that last shred of dignity that hadn't been stripped away by Villain.

So he forced down that agony in the place where hope goes to die, pulling the broken pieces of himself together into a man-shaped figure and composed himself, dissociating. He didn't have time to break down. Villain… Villain was on the loose. And he had to find a way to stop her with his team, before she found another victim to claim.

But the hollow void in him ached with something dark and twisted as he caught another glimpse of his ruined and violated body in the mirror, shaking his resolve.

Hero shook his head with a shiver, gritting his teeth. “We have to talk to the team,” he forced out. “Put a plan together.”

“But don't you want some time to yourself to recov–”

“NO!” Hero cut Sidekick off a little harsher than he meant to, and Sidekick's eyes widened.

“No,” Hero repeated, softer this time. “I can do this. I have to. Villain needs to be stopped… no matter the cost.”

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