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darkmatilda · 3 months ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐩 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a short story of how you became the intrigued observer of madness. possession. fixation. obsession—and every other synonym you can think of. a witness to how the taste of your lips marked spencer like a curse he can’t break…unless you let him do it again. the only question is: will you?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, diva's pov gunshot so a little sneak peek into her inner thoughts <3 spencer being obsessed with her lips after they kissed, reader wearing a lipstick, sassy spence supremacy

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.7k

𝐚/𝐧: anon's request.

No one would be surprised to hear you enjoyed teasing Spencer Reid.

Enjoyed? That’s an understatement – you loved it, just as much as things like a hot bath with fragrant bubbles that reached all the way up to your nose, testing out a new microscope model, or discovering the perfect lip combo that made your lips absolutely irresistible.

But we’ll get back to those irresistible lips.

Anyway, you loved it just as much as those little everyday pleasures, the essentials to get through the day, like your morning coffee or a little sweet treat.

Well, you weren’t about to pretend this was something reserved solely for him. On the contrary, this kind of dynamic colored most of your interactions with men. Sensual inaccessibility, sharp wordplay, a clear assertion of your place and expectations. Honesty about your intentions. Yes, honesty. Because if you wanted to have some fun with someone, you weren’t about to pretend your goal was a shared future, settling down, and offering them all of yourself. Men were drawn to your beauty like naive flies to honey, but you didn’t care about them enough to hide your true nature and everything that lay beneath that perfect facade – if one got put off by a few unkind but truthful words, another would quickly take their place, one who could keep up with you better.

Yet, you couldn’t hide the fact that teasing him gave you just a bit more pleasure. Maybe because, unlike some, he was actually smart, and his remarks and comebacks were sharp, spot on, and challenging. The kind that sometimes required some real mental effort to come up with the right answer—what a perfect way to train your mind. You liked being around him also because he amused you.

Yes, he amused you. It was fascinating watching him try to maintain indifference to your attractiveness, pretending it didn’t catch his eye with every move you made, every step you took. You knew your physicality attracted him, though there was nothing special about that – you’d grown used to it. Desire was deceptive, you yourself wanted people you had nothing to do with, or ones you barely tolerated, but you were always aware of that, just as you were aware that it didn’t have to immediately mean that dreaded L-word. Yet he deluded himself into thinking you hadn’t noticed. He even took pride in how perfectly he hid it. He’d even tell you that you were pretty—in the same tone someone might use to point out that someone had eyes of a particular color or freckles on their cheeks, a simple impersonal statement of fact, in no way connected to a personal opinion. A personal opinion that could upset the balance of a relationship. Because if the other person knew you were attracted to them, it was as if they had power over you—nd it seemed he truly believed that.

He pretended to be indifferent to you, but the moment you managed to coax him into kissing you, he lost it all.

Actually, you hadn’t expected him to actually go through with it. You thought he’d stubbornly fight your unyielding gaze until the very last moment, not that he’d actually press his lips to yours. Without a hint of hesitation, you could boldly declare that he was good at it. His experience wasn’t vast, you could tell, but he made up for it with his enthusiasm and thirst, which fueled his confidence and led to an intensity that almost made your knees go weak—something you wouldn’t admit so readily. And paradoxically, the fact that he gave in, surrendered, made you think he walked away from that elevator incident with some dignity.

At least, that’s what you thought at first. Then something very, very strange started happening.

First, it was as if he had disappeared from your radar. You could hardly catch sight of him anywhere. Not that you were particularly trying—after all, he wasn’t the center of your world, and you had plenty of work and other concerns to keep you occupied, but still, hand on your heart, you could swear you bumped into each other more often before, even if just by chance. Since the elevator incident, whenever you did see him, someone was always with you, most often a member of his team. This allowed him to silently avoid you, without raising any suspicion —he could bury his nose in the case files he was working on, squint his pretty eyes in concentration, and no one dared distract the genius from his duties. Ugh. But whenever you did manage to strike up a conversation with him, all that intelligence seemed to evaporate from his face.

He swallowed hard. At least he didn’t stutter (though you kind of wished he would, just once…), and to be fair, his words and quips remained high quality—but only when he managed to avoid your gaze. The moment your eyes met, a dazed sort of fog would pass over his face for a second, and then, unmistakably, his eyes would drop straight to your lips.

It happened so many times that you turned it into your own little game. You’d catch his gaze—and then count to three. Right on cue, all his attention would zero in on your lips.

And while at first, like any little game, it amused you, it quickly started to get on your nerves. Because days kept passing, and Spencer still acted like he was under some strange spell. Even Penelope noticed, muttering under her breath that you two seriously need to kiss already to ease the tension. Blissfully unaware that you had! And maybe it had worked—at least, you weren’t glaring at each other or snapping anymore. That tension had vanished, but it was instantly replaced by another.

You wanted to confront him about it, but that turned out to be harder than you’d expected. Catching him alone was nearly impossible. It wasn’t until one Wednesday that fate, apparently, decided to give you a break. During a rare lull, in an empty lab (which was shockingly unusual at that hour and only proved your theory that fate was absolutely meddling) just as you pulled a tiny mirror from your lab coat pocket to fix your lipstick, he appeared in the doorway—clutching a plastic evidence bag in his hands.

First, he swallowed.

“It needs to be checked for any genetic material," he informed you stiffly and matter-of-factly, standing a bit further away and extending the bag toward you.

You didn’t take it, not even nodding, too focused on fixing your makeup. You saw him roll his eyes, irritated by being ignored, which made you smile involuntarily. Welcome back, old Reid.

He placed the bag on the counter, turned his head as if he were about to leave, but his legs seemed to betray him, not moving. He stayed frozen, standing in front of you, as you set the lip liner aside and reached for your lipstick. However, you didn’t immediately start applying it.

"I realized," you started, twisting the lipstick in your hand, focused mainly on the task at hand. "…that we didn’t agree on which one of us was right."

He furrowed his brows, something you caught from the corner of your eye.

"Right about what?"

"The kiss, smartass. Did it work? Are we getting along better now? Did the team mention how much easier it would be to tolerate the two of us now?"

The silence stretched out, lingering between you. You didn’t rush him, still focused on applying the lipstick with delicate, precise strokes. You gently parted your lips, tilting your chin slightly upwards. The silence continued.

You finally tore your gaze from the small mirror in your hand, only to catch him staring at your lips.

In the most obvious way possible. The kind that made you sigh, which immediately broke him out of his trance. For pity's sake.

"Honestly, it doesn't even matter if it worked," you muttered. "We couldn’t stand each other before, now I can barely stand you. Seriously, Reid, what’s happening with you?"

You were dying to see how he would explain it.

"With me?" he repeated, looking confused, then tilted his head slightly, as though trying to collect himself. A mock cough followed, one of those pseudo-serious ones. "With me, nothing. I don’t know what you’re talking about."

You snorted.

“You’re getting liptrified every time you see me,” you said.

“I’m getting what?” he scoffed.

“Liptrified.”

“You made up that word, so don’t expect me to know what it means.”

“It means that you’re staring at my lips. Nonstop. Like you’ve never seen anything like it before in your life,” you explained, tilting your head slightly to the side. The next words danced on your tongue for a moment before you spoke them aloud. “Or like you’re just hoping for more.”

The confidence and lack of hesitation with which you spoke hit him like a slap to the face or a bucket of cold water dumped under his shirt. Suddenly, his posture straightened, his gaze sharpened, and he shook his head slightly, as if in disbelief.

"You really think you're the center of the universe, don’t you?"

You looked him in the eye, and surprisingly, he held your gaze, not once looking down at your lips. Ladies and gentlemen, new record.

"Aren't I?"

"You’re hilarious when you think you are."

"Blah, blah, blah. You’re mocking me, but you could’ve just said that kiss was heavenly can i have another one?'"

Reid crossed his arms over his chest, letting out a short laugh. A bit stiff, but quite attractive, if you were being honest. You wondered if that was how he masked his embarrassment from this confrontation.

"Would you give me another one?" he asked.

Your eyebrows lifted slightly, unable to hide your surprise at his response. Before you could speak again, his hand shot out toward you. You followed its movement with your gaze, completely forgetting what you were going to say, but it landed… on the plastic bag, gently sliding it toward you.

"Please, check it as soon as you can," he requested.

Your gaze lingered on his hand as it traveled along his arm and up to his face, which now was much closer to yours than before. His eyes conveyed urgency, no extra glimmers or shine. But then, just for a brief, very brief moment, his eyes rested once more on your lips.

"The previous lipstick color suited you better," he remarked. His chest rose slightly, as if he was taking a deeper breath. "It tasted pretty good, too."

With a slight, almost dismissive nod, he turned toward the door, which you observed in silence.

This bitch—

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #diva reader ♱#spence reid #spencer reid criminal minds #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic

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spider-stark · 1 year ago

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PRECIPICE

Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary - Forced to attend a stuffy ball, you find yourself hiding beneath a table with Aegon.

Warnings - implied targcest as always

Word Count - 4.5k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

The delicious aroma of roast mutton is wafting over you as you pass one of the many long serving tables lining the walls of the ballroom. Your gaze drags along the vast spread that has been prepared for tonight; a variety of artisan breads, cooked meats, and candied desserts are laid out upon silver serving dishes.

As you reach the end of the first table, a pile of lemon cakes snag your attention. Neatly stacked atop an ornate porcelain platter, the cakes are coated in a thin glaze that shimmers in the light. Your mouth instantly begins watering at the sight, your stomach growling in a way that would be deemed improper for a Lady.

Beside you, holding a plate that has been loaded with mashed potatoes and honeyed chicken, Jace turns his head to cock a brow at you.

“Hungry?” He asks, chuckling softly.

You suck in a deep breath before forcefully tearing your gaze from the cakes. “Extremely.”

It takes an enormous amount of will power to turn away from the serving table while still empty-handed, but you somehow manage to do just that. Having hardly even walked a few steps, though, Jace is abandoning his plate to rush after you, softly seizing your wrist to keep you from moving any further.

“If you’re hungry, then you should eat.”

His concern is obvious, not only through his tone, but his expression as well. With his furrowed brow and tight-mouthed frown, you’re fairly certain that he’s already considering the consequences of dragging you back to the table and feeding you himself if need be.

Jace had always been that way—not only with you, but with everyone. He was kind hearted and considerate to fault.

“I would,” you smile, shaking your head slightly to dismiss his concern, “but I’m afraid that if I do, I might very well pop right on out of this ridiculously tight corset.”

You wave an idle hand down to your waist, unnaturally cinched by the intricate lacing and boning of the garment beneath your evergreen gown. His eyes follow the motion, tracing along the intense curve, lingering for a moment too long.

The explanation seems to wash away much of his concern, relieved to know that discomfort was the only reason you had chosen to abstain from the treats being served. Even so, a touch of empathy remains, accompanied by the faintest hint of desire gleaming in his amber gaze.

Amber—an unusual color for a boy of Velaryon blood. His eyes were one of the many reasons that your mother, the Queen Alicent, felt so confident in labeling Princess Rhaenyra’s boys as bastards behind closed doors. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew that there was likely truth to her claims. Your nephews probably were bastards—but you didn’t particularly care.

Jace was nice to you, and that was all that had ever mattered to you.

He clears his throat, realizing that he had been gawking at your body for far longer than he should. “It looks uncomfortable,” the words spill out without permission, and you nearly laugh when his eyes go wide. “That didn’t come out right, nothing about it actually looks uncomfortable—it looks stunning! I mean, you look stunning! It’s just that, I don’t know, I imagine that having something squeeze you so tightly might be-”

“Jace, it’s okay! Truly,” you interrupt his rambling with a soft giggle. “You should know that I’m not so easily offended,” you playfully chide. “Besides, you’re right. It is quite uncomfortable!”

Actually, quite felt like an enormous understatement. But you didn’t figure that Jace was particularly interested in hearing about how your breasts were aching from being roughly shoved up by the tight garment.

Jace looses a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. “Then why bother wearing them? Many noble-women go without corsets. Even my mother hardly ever wears one—she believes they’re vile things that only aid in the objectification of ladies.”

Your brows rise, agreeing with the claims of your half-sister. But then you let your attention shift to the dais, meeting the rough stare of the reason why you had been forced into the tortuous garb—your mother.

She’s already watching you when you meet her eye, her lip curled as she sends you a pointed look, silently urging you away from your nephew. It takes a great deal of effort not to shrink beneath the weight of her attention, and you’re beyond grateful for the group of women who shuffle past you towards the dance floor, giving you an excuse to break the hold she has on you.

“I wear it because my mother wishes for all of her children to look their best,” you answer, shifting your focus back onto Jace. “And who am I to disappoint the Queen?”

He notes the sudden callousness of your tone, as well as the way you clasp your hands together at your waist, fidgeting with the golden ring on your index finger. He doesn’t bother asking if you’re okay, however, knowing well enough that you were not—and already knowing why, as well.

You imagine that Jace doesn’t much like your mother; both for her part in the rumors spread about him and his brothers and for the way she has treated his mother.

It makes you upset in a strange way, a part of you always wishing to defend the Queen, no matter how abhorrent her actions. After all, she was your mother—whether you like it or not—and you knew very well that if someone were to try to hurt you or your siblings, then she would gladly lay her life on the line for you.

You were thankful for her; even if her protection hurt, even if her maternal love only exists when your life is at stake.

“Speaking of your siblings,” Jace suddenly notes, veering slightly off-subject as his own stare drifts towards the dais, “how did Aegon manage to weasel his way out of attending tonight?”

Your brows snap together before letting your head snap back towards the dais, managing to avoid your mother’s nasty stare this time by looking to her right, taking note of each of your siblings.

Aemond is sat directly by her side, his posture rigid as his eye scans across the room, alert and on-guard as usual. Next to him is Helaena, leisurely picking at her plate of food and mindlessly bobbing her head along to the symphony being played for court musicians. Daeron, who your mother insisted fly Tessarion here from Oldtown so that he might be present for tonight, is sat next to your empty chair, making idle chatter with those around him.

But Aegon’s chair, sat between yours and Helaena’s, is vacant.

A knot forms in your stomach when you look back at Aemond, his piercing violet eye catching yours, gleaming with a silent order—find our imbecile brother before he makes a fool of us all.

You give him a curt nod before looking away, head whirling as you begin searching the crowd around you for any sign of your eldest brother.

“Simple,” you huff, “he didn’t.”

Jace hums his understanding as you politely excuse yourself, turning away from him to begin shoving through the throng of people filling the room.

You decline invitations to dance and spout excuses as to why you can’t stop to chat as you push past noblemen-and-women from various Houses, trying to maintain the pleasant persona your mother favored while still moving fast enough that you might find Aegon before he finds any new ways to publicly bring shame upon the Targaryen name.

It’s exhausting work—and by the time you have shoved yourself to the other end of the room without finding him, you nearly consider giving up. Your chest hurts and your scalp is itching from being poked and prodded by a dozen or so pins, all of which had been meticulously placed by servants to arrange plaits into a fanciful half-updo.

In many ways, you look like your mother; with your elaborate hairstyle and green dress, the look is tied together by a pendant of the Seven-Pointed Star dangling from your neck.

And, in many ways, you hate it.

Much to the Queen’s dismay, you’ve never much liked the elegant styles preferred by many women at court. No, instead you spent much of your time donning mail with your hair lazily pulled back, joining Aemond for practice in the training yard.

She hated how unrefined you were, how indelicate you were; fearful for how others at court might view you for it, for how much attention you might draw to yourself.

You blow out a sigh, resisting the urge to pull all of the pins from your hair as you will yourself to keep walking, to keep looking for Aegon. A table overflowing with carafes of arbor wine and flagons of ale catches your attention, setting off alarm bells in your mind.

If Aegon were going to choose anywhere to hide at this godsforsaken ball, then it would certainly be in close proximity to the alcohol.

A cacophony of laughter and clinking goblets surrounds you as you approach, scanning over rows of bottles and skimming the faces of those nearby. Spinning your ring on your finger, you walk along the entire length of the long serving table, disappointed when you reach the end of it and find that your brother is still nowhere in sight.

Chewing on your cheek, you fight the urge to pour yourself a drink when you notice a carafe of blackberry wine. The plum colored liquid seems to call your name, singing promises of sweet oblivion, an escape from the restless feeling clawing at your chest.

You’re out of place here in court, and you always have been—you know that, and you worry that everyone around you knows, too.

Sensical enough to recognize that alcohol would likely just exacerbate your current ill-feelings, you shun the carafe and turn towards the grand entrance. Lifting your chin and squaring your shoulders, you try to appear more composed than you feel as you saunter towards the large wooden doors.

If Aegon had snuck off with one of the serving girls, then there was a good chance that he was still somewhere in the hall, either flirting or feeling up their skirts. And, if you were wrong, then at least he had provided you with an excuse to slip away from this mess of a ball.

As you pass by the last serving table, the platters and dishes atop it already thoroughly picked over, you feel someone tug at your dress. You whirl around, a fiery retort already falling off your tongue, fully intending to rip into whoever had found the audacity to touch you without permission—only to find yourself insulting the air.

There was no one there, at least not close enough to have touched you.

For a heartbeat you begin to reel, wondering if you’ve started to lose your mind before feeling the sensation again. A sharp tug at the fabric, just by your knee. Your head snaps down towards your dress, covering your mouth before a gasp can slip your lips.

An arm is peeking out from beneath one of the finely embellished tablecloths, and a well-groomed hand is clutching your skirts. You instantly recognize the hand as Aegon’s, having become intimately familiar with your brother’s touch throughout your life.

Taking a step closer to the covered table, you try to look natural as you hunch over it slightly to get closer to his level, feigning an interest in a half-eaten roast duck.

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing, Aegon?!” Your voice is hushed, not quite a whisper, but low enough so that no one other than him might hear.

Releasing his hold on your skirts, Aegon lifts the tablecloth a little higher, revealing his face. “Get under here,” he tilts his head, motioning for you to join him beneath the table.

“No!”

He swiftly presses a finger to his lips in response to your incredulous shout, shushing you. You stiffen, nervously flicking your eyes to each side, checking to ensure that no one had heard you. Fortunately, the courtiers around you appear far too invested in their conversations and drinks to notice how you appear to have shouted at a roast duck.

Aegon’s lilac eyes are wide, pleading as he shoves the tablecloth up higher, giving you more room to slip beneath it. “Would you just shut up and come?”

It’s the sheer urgency of his tone that piques your interest, although you wish that it hadn’t. You huff out an annoyed sigh, taking another look around the room before gathering up your skirts and sinking to your knees, crawling underneath the table.

Once you’ve successfully sat down beside him on the stone floor, he drops the cloth, shielding the two of you from any prying eyes. The material is thin enough that it allows some light to pass through it, very dimly illuminated Aegon’s grinning face, all urgency having suddenly vanished.

“Welcome,” he almost sounds breathless, the word airy—and utterly unnecessary.

You can faintly see the rosy coloring of his cheeks, a few messy silver waves tumbling across his face, and you’re immediately willing to bet that he’s extremely buzzed. “What are you doing, Aeg?”

Your tone is firm, but there’s a certain gentleness to it that was specially reserved for your eldest brother. While you maintain that you love all three of them equally, it’s undeniable that your relationship with Aegon has always been… different.

He reaches to his side, lifting a carafe from the ground beside him. “Having a party,” he says, raising it towards your face and playfully swirling the garnet colored liquid.

“I’m unsure if you’re aware,” you motion towards the cloth shrouding you from the bustling ballroom, “but our mother has already planned quite the celebration for tonight—and she likely does not wish for it to be ruined by her drunkard son ducking beneath tables like an imbecile!”

Aegon pokes his bottom lip out into a pout. “Why must you assume that I am drunk?”

“Because you’re you,” you drone, cocking your head at him, “and you are always drunk.”

Rolling his eyes, he sits the carafe down on the ground between you. There are only mere inches separating the two of you, both of you squeezing your limbs close to your body to avoid having a foot peek out from beneath the table. Sitting this close to him, you can smell the sweetness of the arbor red of his breath—as well as the faintest hint of sulfur, a sign that he had clearly gone riding on Sunfyre earlier and had failed at washing off the dragon’s strong scent.

You take another breath, inhaling the smell of him into your lungs. It was familiar—comfortable, urging your taut muscles to slacken in his presence.

“And what if I told you that I am sober right now?”

A snort escapes you, sparing him an incredulous look. “Then I would call you a liar,” you tell him, tapping a finger against the rim of the half-empty carafe.

His stare drops down towards it, watching as the liquid ripples when you pull your hand back. When he looks back up, he’s wearing a crooked smile that makes your heart flutter. “Mostly sober, then.”

It’s nearly impossible to stifle your laugh, clamping a hand over your mouth so that you might muffle the sound and prevent passersby from becoming suspicious. The sound only makes his smile grow wider and more genuine, an expression that he graced very few people with.

“I’ll ask again,” you say, speaking only when you're confident that no more laughter will tumble out. “Why are you down here? If mother finds out then she will be furious and-”

Aegon tosses his head back, cutting you off with a groan. “Mother will be furious no matter what,”

Disdain drips from each syllable, thickening the air around you. He didn’t like talking about her much, and you couldn’t blame him for it. Of all your siblings, Aegon had been dealt the worst hand, simply by being born first. He got the brunt of your mothers vile behavior; and you hated that, too.

“Because,” lazily rolling his neck so that he can look at you again, he answers, “I’d rather spend my night under here,” he flicks a hand up, lazily gesturing around himself, “than be forced to sit through even one more tedious speech from some ancient Lord of gods-know-where!”

You bite your tongue, holding back another laugh.

“And,” he continues, nodding in your direction, “I am now saving you from the same mundane fate. You’re welcome.”

“What makes you think that I needed your saving?” You ask, brows rising.

Aegon purses his lips, placing a finger against his chin as he feigns contemplation, studying the intricate styling of your hair, the modest long-sleeved gown, and the Star resting against your covered breasts. “Perhaps it was that our mother has you dressed up as though you’re an aspiring Septa.”

Thinking of the plain women, with their simple gowns and traditional head coverings, you nearly laugh again as you ask, “How many Septa’s do you know that wear corsets and jewelry, brother?”

“None,” he admits, shoulders lifting into an indolent shrug. “Though, if they looked more like you, then I might finally have a reason to attend prayer. Beautiful women would be more than enough to turn me into a pious man.”

A warmth creeps up your neck as blood rushes to your cheeks, unsure if his statement was meant as a compliment—was he saying that he found you beautiful? If so, it shouldn’t have been a particularly shocking revelation. After all, Aegon had complimented you before, many times.

In all fairness, however, most of those times had been when he was thoroughly besotted. He had a habit of sneaking into your rooms and practically draping himself off of you, muttering drunken nonsense about how breathtaking you were. You had never placed much truth in the statements though, assuming that Aegon likely didn’t even recognize who he was speaking to, much less whose bed he had crawled into.

But even if this was a genuine and mostly sober attempt at complimenting you, the flattery of it doesn’t last nearly long enough. Your own insecurity washes back over you far quicker than you like, reminding you of just how unlike yourself you currently feel.

“I do not believe that anything would be capable of turning you into a pious man,” you joke, trying and failing to cover up the melancholy that has settled into your bones. “Not even beautiful women.”

“You could.”

The answer comes far too quick, spilling from his tongue with an eagerness that even seems to catch him by surprise.

“Though, I must say, for as exquisite as this dress makes you look,” his hand reaches across the short expanse dividing you, mindlessly running his fingers along the fabric covering your shoulder, “I much prefer the way look in armor—sweaty skin, messy hair, sword in-hand—all of it.”

Your breath catches in your throat as his touch drifts towards the center of your chest, fingers dragging along the thin chain leading to your pendant, lifting the Star into his palm. He stares at it for a moment before yanking it roughly from your neck, grinning when you yelp. “But this,” he lifts the Seven-Pointed Star slightly, “I absolutely hate.”

With that, he tosses it from underneath the table, sending it skittering across the floor beyond the tablecloth.

Your jaw drops open, a hand pressed against the now-sore spot along the back of your neck. Despite yourself, your lips start to curve into a playful smile. You try fighting against it, try pressing them into a firm line, but fail. “Mother will not be happy about that-”

“She’s never happy,” Aegon interjects. His own expression shifts, the line on his forehead deepening as he says, “Do not let yourself bear her misery. Life is too short—and you deserve more than that.”

A palpable silence is thickening the air, and your breathing seems to synchronize as you simply stare at one another.

Slowly, nervously, you say, “I’m not sure what it is that I deserve,”

“You deserve,” he pauses, lips still parted despite the absence of speech. Then, swallowing back the words that had been building in his throat, he says, “you deserve whatever it is that you want, sister.”

Your hand falls from your neck into your lap, and you avert your gaze, watching your fingers as they fidget with your ring. “And what if I do not know what I want?”

Once, you had thought that you wanted a life like Jaces. A happy life, with a mother that knew how to love you and siblings that hadn’t been raised in fear of their half-sister ascending the throne, taught that their very existence was a threat to her power. But, suddenly, you felt as though you were no longer sure.

Aegon hesitates, watching you carefully. His lilac eyes appear as though they’re searching for something within your own—a hint of recognition, or reciprocation. If he found what he was looking for, then you were unaware. “Then you’ll figure it out,” he sighs, his smile not reaching his eyes. “You have all the time in the world to decide.”

There is something reassuring about his statement, making it resonate with you in a way that you hadn’t expected. You look up, holding his gaze for a heartbeat, then two, and you almost swear that you can see it—the silent invitation, the plea to delve deeper into his words, to decipher exactly what it was that he was promising you.

You have all the time in the world—all the time in the world to decide if he might ever be something you want.

Suddenly you find yourself dancing on the edge of a precipice, chest tightening as you grapple with the idea that, maybe, something more might exist between you and Aegon.

That, maybe, he had always known who he was complimenting and what bed he was slipping into.

That, for him, it had always been you.

“Aegon, I-”

He shakes his head, cutting you off before you have a chance to say something that he fears you may regret. Then, sliding the carafe between you to the side, he scoots closer. “If you plan on staying under my table,” he teases, clearing his throat, “then we need to do something about your hair.”

“I thought you said I looked exquisite?” You stay still as he starts toying with the strands, trying to swallow the tumult of your own emotions.

Aegon’s plucking various pins from your hair, tossing them to the ground. “Yes, but I also said that I prefer your hair when it’s messy. It’s more…” he sucks in a breath, unable to hide the admiration swelling in his chest when he finally exhales, “you.”

Your cheeks are burning hot, and you’re suddenly very thankful for the lack of light around you. On instinct, you almost tell him how your mother wouldn’t agree—but then you think better of it.

“You’re… generous.”

Something about your voice sounds foreign in your ears. You sound nervous—and you’re not used to feeling nervous around Aegon.

His fingers are combing through the plaits forming your updo, his brow drawn taut, framing his lilac eyes, shining bright with concentration. “Generous,” he snorts softly, nails raking lightly against your scalp as he shakes the strands loose, “I don’t hear that one often.”

“Well perhaps you’d hear it more if you weren’t such an ass,” you shoot back, slowly trying to slip back into your usual self.

“Me? An ass?” He’s untangled the final braid, scooting away from you slightly now as he presses a hand to his chest, feigning innocence. “Never.”

Now falling in loose waves, free of those incessant pins, you brush your hair over your shoulder. “Just earlier I heard you telling Lord Grover that if wisdom were measured in wrinkles that he would be named Grand Maester.” You point out, unable to mask your amusement while recalling the old man’s shocked expression.

“Is it not true?” Aegon smirks. “The man is nearly seventy, and his age certainly shows.”

“Lord Grover is only two-and-fifty, brother.”

His brows shoot up, gaping at you. “Tell me that you’re not serious!” When you nod, confirming that you are, he sucks his teeth. “Wow—how unfortunate. He looks positively dreadful for his age, then. I thought that he surely had one foot in the grave by now.”

“Aegon!” You rebuke through your own sputtered laughter, shaking your head at his insolence. “See? This is what I was talking about! If you weren’t so crude then you might get more compliments.”

Swinging his arm back to grab for the carafe, Aegon’s nose scrunches slightly. “Why bother?” He implores, a hint of mischief in his tone. “My crudeness is what you like most about me, is it not? Without it, dear sister, your life would be quite boring.”

Just before he brings the carafe to his lips, he inclines his head towards the tablecloth, emphasizing his words. A reminder—that, without him, you would still be out there, sitting miserably amongst your siblings and being forced to dance with Lord’s twice your age.

There was something more beneath the veil of humor and arrogance, however. A craving that had him tipping the carafe back, hoping that the stinging of the alcohol might numb his gnawing desire for validation—to hear you say that you yes, my life would be boring without you.

“I suppose you’re right,” the admission has him pausing, the carafe lingering against his bottom lip. “Truth be told, I had never put much thought into it before, but you do have a way of keeping life interesting, Aeg. So, I must agree that, without you, my life would be positively dreadful.” Staring at the ground in-between you, you smile before adding, “After all, who else would be able to convince me to risk our mother’s scorn and crawl beneath a table to drink wine and fix my hair?”

There’s a slight tremor in his voice when he speaks, trying to mask the warmth swelling in his chest, “You have yet to drink a single drop.”

“Then I suppose that is the next thing you’ll have to fix,” you say, sticking your hand out towards him, urging him to pass you the carafe. He hands it to you while biting back a grin.

“Careful,” he warns, “drink too much and you may end up like your drunkard brother.”

“I don't mind,” You mirror his expression, your own lips curving as you raise the glass upwards, the strong scent of the arbor red stinging your nostrils. “I quite like my drunkard brother.”

His gaze burns against your flesh as you tilt your head back, allowing the alcohol to slip over your tongue, and you suddenly realize that you are no longer standing on the edge of that precipice.

You’re falling.

a/n - i was honestly just thinking about jude and cardan hiding under a table in the cruel prince and ended up with this? so yeah, definitely inspired by jurdan content (but y'know... no coup d'etat lmao).

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juleswritesstuff · 1 year ago

Text

Starving

Basically, just Theo being the munch that he is.

theodore nott x fem!reader

warnings: smut

Enjoy💗

You had always hated Herbology with a deep passion.

Not the plants per se, those were rather fascinating to observe, but did they really need to have such a vast variety of species ? Was it actually necessary ?

Apparently it was, or Mrs Sprout wouldn't have given you a whole 600 words essay to write on every type of mandrake known to man.

Those screaming little things got on your nerves, and you could barely understand what the professor was talking about while tending to them. Hence, you were finding it extremely difficult to complete that paper.

The door of your dorm room suddenly opened and you had to restrain a curse from slipping through gritted teeth.

You had really hoped to not get interrupted.

Apparently your prayers weren't heard.

“You busy, dolcezza ?” (sweetie)

A more than familiar voice reached your ears. You lifted your eyes from your paper and they landed on none other than Theodore Nott, who was standing right in front of your door, now closed again, with a faint smirk plastered on his face.

You rolled your eyes. You knew that little grin all too well.

“Kind of, yeah” you replied, your attention going back to the paper in front of you as you started scribbling again with your quill “Aren't you ? Have you already finished your essay ?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Just turned it in, so I have some time to kill” he said with that cocky attitude of his.

Infuriating and charming at the same time, truly unfair.

“Good for you, then. I don't, so if you could leave me to it, it would be much appreciated” you said as a forced smile curved your lips.

“Oh, come on. You don't even have a little time ? Per me ?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side with the most innocent expression he could master. (For me ?)

Which didn't work because his eyes screamed trouble.

Theo looked like an angel with his brown hair curled in soft locks and eyes as blue as the ocean, although dead and emotionless looking.

Actually, he was the devil in disguise. Especially when he acted all coy like this.

“No Theo, I really don't have time for your little antics today” you said huffing.

‘His little antics’ being eating you out till tears rolled down your cheeks and your mascara was smudged and unsalvageable.

You and Theo were ‘friends’. You got along just fine, you talked, and you bickered like there was no tomorrow. It was part of your friendship, the teasing, the little harmless jokes. It was routine for the two of you.

What was also routine was the flirting.

Shameless and obvious flirting.

You never thought it would lead anywhere. You were so used to the little Italian endearments he gave you and the ever present smirk on his lips that you didn't really think anything of it.

Until one night, after one of the biggest parties that Slytherin had ever thrown, you ended up in his bed, with him between your legs eating you out like his life depended on it.

You didn't even know how you found yourself in that situation, you just knew that you hadn't minded one bit.

You ended up with shaky legs and a dizzy brain just by his tongue alone.

Saying that you didn't mind it would've been an understatement.

The day after was awkward as hell, but you both were too direct and honest to not deal with the weird atmosphere immediately.

So you decided to add some…privileges to your relationship.

You discovered Theo had quite an oral fixation.

He needed to keep his mouth occupied with something.

Cigarettes were a great way to keep his mouth busy, but they were extremely damaging for his health.

You didn't mean to make him stop smoking, you knew it would've been basically impossible, and, if you had to be completely honest with yourself, he looked so damn hot with those death traps between his lips, but you wanted to at least try to reduce the amount of nicotine that went into his body.

And what better way than to bribe him with the second thing he loved the most in the world ?

Eating you out seemed to be his favorite hobby.

Anytime he felt the need to light one cigarette more than necessary he came to you, with that sinful smirk on his lips and the hottest ‘fuck me’ eyes he could master.

And who were you to say no ?

You had proposed the deal in the first place.

Plus, he was amazing at it too. The way his tongue worked on your cunt definitely felt like ascending to heaven.

But now you really didn't have the time.

“I'm not here because I feel like smoking, Y/n” he said walking up to you and stopping in front of the desk, leaning forward a little as he supported his weight with his hands on the table.

You made the mistake of lifting your eyes from the parchment and locking them with his. His gaze was magnetic. Once those pools of stormy sea caught you, you couldn't escape.

“Then why are you here ?” you asked, raising your eyebrows.

“Cause I'm starving, bambolina” he uttered with the calmest and most unaffected tone in his voice. (babydoll)

You narrowed your eyes.

“Then you should be in the kitchen to solve that little problem, don't you think ?” you asked rhetorically, eyes going back to focus on the parchment in front of you.

You heard him scoff, and suddenly he was leaning so much closer.

Your head was still hung low, trying to write that damn essay, but his presence was distracting as hell and you couldn't help but shiver when he leaned to whisper in your ear.

“You're right, that would be the perfect solution if I was hungry for food” he stopped and you could feel the teasing smile plastered on his face.

“But all I'm craving is you and that pretty little cunt of yours, so I don't think the kitchen elves could really help me with that”

You wished you could say his words didn't affect you, you really wished.

But the sudden warmth on your cheeks and the unconscious clench of your legs told another story.

You really didn't have time for this, but your body was craving him and his touch like crazy, and you weren't sure you would've been able to focus if you didn't feel his tongue working its wonders on you.

So you sighed and pushed the chair you were sitting on a bit farther away from the desk, enough to take your knickers off and throw them somewhere behind you, then you sat back, your skirt still covering you up until your mid thighs.

His eyes darkened with lust.

“Make it quick, I have an essay to finish” you said, faking indifference.

On the inside you were burning alive.

“Quick ? It's like you don't know me at all, dolcezza” he said with a scoff as he sank to his knees, crawling until he was right in front of you.

His gaze locked in yours as his hands made contact with the bare skin of your legs, caressing them gently, tenderly.

“I'll take my sweet time with you. Ora fai la brava and open those gorgeous legs for me” you hated how fast you complied, but with the way he was looking at you you really couldn’t help yourself. (Now be good)

He lifted your skirt and he leaned forward.

As soon as his tongue made contact with your folds you melted.

You choked out a whimper, and you could feel him smirk right against your groin.

"Wipe that grin off your face, Nott, I'm only -ah fuck, I'm only doing it because you begged me” you said as he kept lapping at your core with his tongue, wrapping his lips around your clit to give it a gentle suck.

The moan that rippled out of you was almost pornographic.

“Piccola bugiarda, you know that's not true. You're doing it because you want it too” he moved his mouth from your cunt to your thighs, giving feather light kisses on the sensitive skin. (Little liar)

“You're so wet, you didn't think I would notice ?” he asked with that fucking cocky attitude that made you go crazy.

“Shut up and put that mouth to a better use” you said, but the bite in your voice was definitely toned down by the urgency and neediness of having his mouth back where you needed him the most.

His head tilted to the side as he leaned back just the tiniest bit.

“What's with the attitude, uh ?”

“No, no, no, -shit Theo. Come back here” you said, almost whining.

He was too far, and you needed him.

You needed him closer, way fucking closer.

“E come si dice ?” he teased, his eyes were dark and fogged up by lust and hunger. (And what do you say ?)

“Fuck, why do you always want me to beg ?” you asked, defeated. He leaned forward again, his breath hovering right above the tender skin as you clenched around nothing, feeling the loss of his tongue.

“Because it's fun, I love it when you beg me with that sweet mouth of yours. Plus I like seeing you flustered” he said as he started to kiss every inch and nook of your most sensitive area, avoiding where you really wanted him to.

You wanted to curse so bad, but you knew that was not what he wanted, what he needed.

“Theo -fuck. Please Theo, just touch me. Please” you surrendered, your voice whiny and broken, until a melody of moans and whimpers started to ripple out of your lips as soon as his mouth met your folds again.

And this time he didn’t stop.

He lapped at your juices like a starved man enjoying his meal for the first time in days.

He licked, and sucked, and kissed every centimeter, every inch of tender skin like he was born to do that.

Your hands buried in his soft brown locks and you tugged at them unconsciously after a particularly good roll of his tongue made you see stars.

“Cazzo, se continui così verrò nei pantaloni porca puttana” he said, hissing. His mouth kept working wonders on your cunt, his groans creating delicious vibrations on your clit. (Fuck, if you keep this up I'll come in my pants, holy shit)

“Ancora” he said between ravenous licks and delicate, teasing sucks, guttural moans leaving his lips. (Again)

“What ?” you asked, lost in pleasure. Your little knowledge of the Italian language became nonexistent when he was busy making you cry on his tongue.

“Again, baby. You know i fucking love it” he says, mouthing the words right against your core.

And so you obeyed, tugging at his hair again, a little rougher, a little harder.

A low groan left his lips.

You were close, you were so fucking close.

“Shit, Theo, baby” you moaned out loud, the term of endearment completely slipping out.

Theo seemed to notice, because he started to go faster, tongue flicking desperately at your folds.

Your breath got caught in your lungs, your ears rang and your sight turned black as you got hit by pleasure.

The hand on his hair kept Theo close as you rode your orgasm on his tongue.

He lapped at your juices carefully, to not overstimulate you, leaving sweet butterfly kisses on your thighs, worshiping the skin with his lips.

Once your breathing started to go back to normal and your sight was not blurry from the pleasure anymore you looked at him.

He was still kneeling in front of you, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as his eyes focused on your face.

“You look quite disheveled, principessa” he said with a chuckle, pride oozing from his features for reducing you in that state. All fucked out and breathless. (princess)

“Oh, yeah ? And whose fault is that ?” you asked in mocking shock, but you couldn't help a chuckle from escaping your lips.

“And you're one to talk” you added as you took in his appearance. His eyes were still quite foggy and unfocused, his hair a mess from all the tugging, and his lips.

Oh, his lips. Red and shiny with your essence and the tiniest bit swollen.

He looked too fucking good to be true.

You knew you folded too easily when Theo was involved, but you couldn’t help it.

“I told you I was starving, you underestimated my eagerness to fucking devour you” he said with a shrug, wetting his lips to savor your taste once again, like his words didn’t make you feel like you were catching fire.

That mouth of his was a menace, physically and metaphorically.

“I’m never gonna be able to finish this stupid essay now” you said almost desperately.

He laughed at your pathetic whining, but it was a warm laugh, not one made to mock you but one that was closer to endearment.

“Was it so good that it melted your brain off ?” he asked with that cocky grin of his.

You looked at him with a deadpan expression.

“Your overly confident attitude never fails to amaze me, Theodore Nott '' you said with a chuckle. You straightened your posture on the chair, smoothing out all the wrinkles that he had left from fisting your skirt and holding on for dear life to keep your hips still.

“Now I don’t want to kick you out, but I really need to finish this”

“No need for that, tesoro, I’ll leave you to it. Wouldn’t want to distract you too much” he said, getting back up on his feet and tucking a rebellious strand of your hair behind your ear.

“See you at dinner ?” he asked.

You simply nodded your head yes.

His hand was still gently caressing your cheek, the pads of his fingers were as light as a feather as they danced on your skin.

His eyes were locked in yours, and you had no idea of what was happening.

Until his fingers reached your chin, tilting your head up the slightest bit.

Then he leaned in.

For the first time since you had started this ‘arrangement’ his lips met yours.

And they were sweeter than you thought, gentle, but there was an undertone of hunger, of neediness that you couldn’t ignore.

He tasted of nicotine and butter beer, bittersweet and addicting.

His lips were slightly chapped but you couldn’t care less about it as his tongue swiped on your bottom lip, his teeth grazing at it gently right after as he carefully bit the plump skin.

He pulled back slowly and you were left speechless.

He just chuckled at your wide eyes and agape mouth.

“Good luck on your essay, ok ? I’ll see you tonight” he left a quick kiss on your cheek before storming out of the door with a smile on his face.

Your thoughts were all over the place, because what the hell had just happened ?

Did Theodore Nott just kiss you ?

Something a little different from my usual marauders content, but he's been stuck in my brain for weeks now, and I couldn't help myself 😔

And honestly, as an Italian girl, I really think Lorenzo Zurzolo should be classified as a national treasure, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

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buttercandy16 · 7 months ago

Text

Mistress

PAIRING(s): Vampire!Agatha Harkness x Maid!Reader

SUMMARY: Your mistress becomes obsessed with you, leading to a dark, twisted relationship where love, power, and obsession collide.

WARNING(s): Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive, Blood, and SMUT.

A/N: Been a while since I've written some smut. Enjoy!

The halls of the Harkness estate were vast and cold, like a labyrinth of secrets etched into its ancient stone walls. Candlelight flickered across shadowy corridors as you carried a silver tray of wine toward the parlor, your heels clicking softly against the marble floors. You tried to focus on balancing the tray, but you couldn't ignore the eerie stillness of the estate or the way the other servants whispered nervously about their mistress.

Agatha Harkness.

Even among her wealthy contemporaries, her name was uttered with equal parts reverence and dread. She was a woman of unparalleled elegance and power, known for her biting wit and an aura of danger that clung to her like a second skin. Rumors swirled about her cruelty, her temper, and her insatiable appetites—not just for luxury but for something darker.

You’d taken the job as her maid out of desperation, knowing little of her reputation. Now, after only a few weeks, you wondered if the warnings had been an understatement.

And yet, you found yourself drawn to her in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

The moment you entered the parlor, you felt her eyes on you.

Agatha lounged in a grand velvet armchair, her long fingers elegantly wrapped around the stem of a wine glass. Her gaze slid over you like a caress, sharp and assessing, making your skin prickle under the weight of her attention.

“Finally,” she purred, her voice smooth as silk. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost.”

“My apologies, mistress,” you said quickly, setting the tray down on the table before her.

“Hmm.” She didn’t look away, her lips curving into the faintest smile. “You’re new, aren’t you?”

“Yes, mistress,” you said, fighting to keep your hands steady under her piercing stare.

She stood slowly, her towering frame somehow both graceful and intimidating as she circled you. The scent of her perfume—a dark, heady mix of amber and spice—wrapped around you, making it hard to think clearly.

“I noticed you the moment you arrived,” she murmured, her voice dangerously low. “There’s something… unique about you. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

Her fingers brushed your shoulder lightly as she moved behind you, and your breath caught.

“Tell me,” she said, her breath warm against your ear, “do you enjoy working for me?”

The air felt heavy, and the words got caught in your throat. “Y-yes, mistress,” you managed, though your pulse quickened for reasons you couldn’t fully name.

Her low chuckle sent a shiver down your spine. “Good. I have high expectations, and I’d hate to be disappointed.”

Over the following days, her interest in you only grew more intense.

She began finding reasons to summon you alone—fetching her wine, helping her dress, accompanying her on her nightly walks through the moonlit gardens. Always, she kept close, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of you.

At first, you thought it was simply her eccentric nature, but soon it became clear there was more to her obsession.

“I can hear your heart racing,” she said one evening as you stood in her chambers, tidying the delicate lace cuffs of one of her gowns. Her tone was amused, but her eyes burned with something primal.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

“Oh, but I think you do,” she said, taking your wrist in her hand. Her grip was gentle but unyielding as she pulled you closer. “You’re quite… intoxicating.”

One night, you found yourself summoned to her private chambers. The room was dimly lit, the scent of wax and roses thick in the air. She stood by the fireplace, her long dark gown catching the light like a pool of ink.

“Come here,” she said, her voice low and commanding.

You hesitated but obeyed, stepping closer until you were standing just inches from her.

Her hand reached out, her fingers trailing over your cheek. “You’re shaking,” she whispered. “Are you afraid of me?”

“N-no, mistress,” you lied, your voice barely audible.

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You should be.”

Before you could respond, her grip tightened on your arm, and she pulled you against her. Her other hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet her gaze. Her eyes glowed faintly in the firelight, hungry and unrelenting.

“You don’t understand yet, do you?” she murmured, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “The hold you have over me. Your scent, your warmth, the taste of your fear…”

Her lips brushed against your neck, soft and deliberate, and your breath hitched. You wanted to pull away, but her presence was overwhelming, suffocating, and somehow… thrilling.

“I could devour you,” she whispered, her voice tinged with both lust and menace. “Body and soul. And I don’t know if I could stop myself.”

You felt her teeth graze your skin, a soft scrape that sent electricity coursing through you. But instead of biting, she pulled back, her expression carefully controlled.

“Not yet,” she said, more to herself than to you. “Not yet.”

Her fingers lingered on your wrist as she let you go, her touch burning long after she released you.

“Leave me,” she said abruptly, turning away.

You didn’t wait for her to change her mind.

The next day, she was colder, more distant, as though trying to suppress whatever had taken hold of her. But the heat in her gaze never dimmed when she looked at you, and you knew the storm wasn’t over—it was only just beginning.

Every interaction with her left you more confused, more tangled in her web of obsession. The line between fear and something far more dangerous blurred, and you found yourself standing at the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to flee or to fall.

And as her lips curled into a knowing smirk, you realized that decision might not be yours to make.

The air in the Harkness estate grew heavier each day, as though the house itself was responding to the tension between you and its mistress. Agatha’s presence loomed everywhere—her perfume lingering in the hallways, her voice echoing in the back of your mind, her piercing eyes locked on you at every stolen glance.

You told yourself it was just her nature, an eccentricity fueled by wealth and boredom. Yet deep down, you knew it was more. Agatha wasn’t merely interested; she was consumed. And despite the gnawing fear in your chest, part of you couldn’t help but lean into it, daring the flame to burn brighter.

One evening, you were summoned to her private chambers yet again. The summons itself wasn’t unusual by now, but the tone of her note was: “Tonight, you’re mine.”

You smoothed your trembling hands down the front of your uniform as you knocked on the grand wooden door. Her voice drifted through, low and sensual.

“Come in.”

Pushing the door open, you stepped inside, only to be greeted by a sight that made your breath hitch.

Agatha stood in front of a gilded mirror, her silhouette framed by the glow of the roaring fireplace. She was in a deep plum silk robe, tied loosely at her waist. The fabric clung to her curves, revealing far more than it hid. Her hair tumbled down in dark waves, and her gaze met yours through the reflection.

“You kept me waiting,” she said, her tone soft but full of unspoken weight.

“My apologies, Mistress Harkness,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Agatha,” she corrected, turning to face you fully. “When we’re alone, you’ll call me Agatha.”

Her smile was slow and predatory as she crossed the room, her bare feet silent on the thick rug. She stopped just in front of you, her presence commanding every ounce of your attention.

“You’ve been working so hard lately,” she said, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face. “Have the other servants been treating you well?”

“Yes,” you replied, though the closeness of her fingers to your skin made the word come out shakier than intended.

“And yet,” she continued, tilting her head, “I can see the exhaustion in your eyes. Do they know how much you give?” Her fingers lingered on your cheek, her touch as delicate as a whisper.

“I—”

“Shh,” she interrupted, pressing a single finger to your lips. “No need to speak. You’ve already given me enough with just your presence.”

The air between you crackled with an intensity that was impossible to ignore. Her eyes roamed over you, her gaze so unashamed and hungry that you felt exposed even in your modest uniform.

“Have you thought about me?” she asked, her voice a low, dangerous hum.

Your throat tightened. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

Her smile deepened, a sly curve of her lips that seemed to peel away every pretense. “Don’t lie to me. I see it every time your hands tremble when I’m near. The way you avoid my gaze, yet I catch you staring when you think I’m not looking.”

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, your heart thundering in your chest. “Mistress, I—”

“Agatha,” she corrected again, more firmly this time. Her voice softened as she leaned closer, the scent of her perfume intoxicating. “Do you feel it too? This… pull between us? Don’t deny it.”

Her hand trailed down your arm, her fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your wrist. The touch was light, yet it left a trail of fire in its wake.

You stepped back instinctively, trying to create distance, but she followed. Her movements were slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring its prey.

“You’re nervous,” she said, her voice almost teasing. “Good. I like the way your pulse quickens when I’m near. Like it’s calling to me.”

Her fingers brushed the delicate skin of your neck, lingering for a moment as her gaze followed the motion.

“Do you know how hard it’s been to restrain myself?” she whispered, her voice dripping with hunger. “You’ve awakened something in me—something dark, something primal. I can hardly stand it when you’re near.”

Her lips ghosted over your ear, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Every time I see you, every time I smell you, I wonder… how would you taste?”

Your knees threatened to buckle beneath you, but her hand moved to your waist, steadying you. It wasn’t just her words—it was her voice, her touch, her presence. It was overwhelming.

“You should go,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Her laughter was soft and rich, like the purr of a satisfied predator. “Go? You’re the one in my chambers, darling.”

Agatha’s other hand slid around your back, pulling you impossibly close. The silk of her robe brushed against you, her warmth seeping into your skin.

“Tell me to stop,” she said, her lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “One word, and I’ll let you walk out of here. But if you stay… you’ll belong to me.”

Your breath caught as her fingers tilted your chin upward, her dark eyes blazing with intent. It felt like the world had stopped, like the only thing that mattered was her—her lips, her touch, her dominance.

This was no longer just your job, your duty. This was something much deeper, darker, and inescapable. And as her lips brushed against yours, soft and commanding all at once, you knew there was no going back.

The kiss started soft—tentative even—but there was no denying the fire that ignited the moment her lips claimed yours. Agatha wasn’t the kind of woman to ask twice, and now, her dominance poured over you like molten honey. Her hand tangled in your hair, holding you in place as her lips parted yours, the taste of her intoxicating.

“Do you feel it now?” she murmured against your lips, her voice like a low growl. “How you’ve bewitched me?”

Your body trembled under her touch, your breath hitching as her sharp nails dragged lightly down the curve of your neck. The trail they left tingled, a shiver that rippled through you like electricity. She stepped back, just slightly, her hungry eyes roaming over you as though she was calculating her next move.

Then her expression shifted—intense and dark, her pupils dilating as she fixated on your neck.

Before you could speak, she moved, gripping your waist and pressing you against the cold stone wall of her chambers. Her lips brushed your collarbone, soft and deliberate, as she inhaled deeply.

“Your scent…” Her voice broke, heavy with need. “It’s… maddening.”

Her mouth trailed along the line of your throat, kisses becoming hungrier, rougher. Then you felt it—the sharp press of her teeth.

"Agatha—" you gasped, half-panicked and half-lost in the thrill coursing through you.

“Shh,” she cooed, pinning your wrists above your head with surprising strength. “You’ve already given me your lips… your trust… What’s one more thing?”

Her teeth broke the delicate skin of your neck with a swift bite, pain mingling with the heat of her lips. Your cry was stifled as she pressed her mouth fully against you, drinking deeply. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt—the sharp sting giving way to a strange, dangerous pleasure as her body molded against yours.

The world blurred at the edges, your heart hammering as she drank, the wet, visceral sound filling the chamber. Your pulse slowed, your knees weak, but Agatha didn’t falter. When she finally pulled back, her lips and chin were smeared with your blood, crimson standing out stark against her pale skin.

“Look at you,” she whispered, her voice husky, her eyes glowing faintly with an otherworldly hunger. “So fragile, so perfect. Do you understand now what you do to me?”

Her hands slipped to your waist, her grip firm yet somehow tender, steadying you as you sagged against her. “You taste like heaven,” she murmured, licking the remnants of your blood from her lips as though savoring a fine wine.

“You—” You tried to speak, but the words didn’t come, your breath hitching as her thumb traced over the fresh wound on your neck.

“Shh, don’t speak,” she said, her voice softening, almost tender now. “You’ve given me so much already. Let me take care of you, darling.”

She lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the massive bed draped in deep violet and gold linens. You felt the world sway as she set you down, her robe falling open just enough to reveal the smooth curve of her shoulder. Her predatory grin had returned, but now it was laced with something gentler—a strange, possessive affection that made your stomach twist.

“I told you, didn’t I?” she murmured, brushing your hair away from your face. “You belong to me now. Completely.”

She leaned over you, her bloodstained lips brushing yours in a kiss that was gentler this time. It was possessive yet worshipful, as though she was memorizing every inch of you.

The blood loss left you lightheaded, the line between fear and desire blurring until it vanished entirely. Agatha’s hands roamed over your body with reverence, her touch burning like fire.

“Such strength,” she purred, her lips hovering over yours. “Yet so vulnerable.”

She pressed another kiss to your neck, careful to avoid the wound this time. Her tongue flicked over the edges of the bite, soothing the sting, even as her hands trailed down your sides, setting every nerve ablaze.

The fire in the hearth crackled, casting flickering shadows across the room as Agatha’s lips left your neck, her tongue lapping at the wound she’d made. Her hands were everywhere—tracing your collarbone, gripping your hips, sliding up your thighs with a possessiveness that left you breathless. She pulled back slightly, her eyes dark and glinting with something primal, something that made your stomach twist in a way that was equal parts fear and desire.

“You’re trembling,” she murmured, her voice low and rough, like the growl of a predator savoring its prey. “Do you want me to stop?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your body was betraying you, your pulse racing as her fingers slipped under the hem of your uniform, brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Her touch was electric, sending shivers up your spine, and you bit your lip to stifle the moan that threatened to escape.

“No?” she teased, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “Good. Because I don’t think I could stop even if you begged me to.”

Her hands moved with purpose, yanking the fabric of your uniform up and over your head in one swift motion. The cool air hit your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of her gaze as she took you in—every curve, every inch of exposed flesh. Her eyes burned with hunger, and you felt utterly exposed, utterly at her mercy.

“Beautiful,” she whispered, her voice dripping with reverence. “Every part of you.”

Her hands were on you again, rough and demanding, as she pushed you back onto the bed. The satin sheets were cool against your back, but her body was a furnace as she climbed over you, her robe falling open to reveal the smooth, pale skin beneath. Her breasts brushed against yours, and you gasped at the contact, your nipples hardening instantly under her touch.

“You’re mine,” she growled, her lips trailing down your neck, your collarbone, your chest. “Every inch of you belongs to me.”

Her mouth closed over your nipple, her tongue flicking against the sensitive bud, and you arched into her, a moan escaping your lips before you could stop it. She chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your skin, and her teeth grazed you lightly, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through your body.

“That’s it,” she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Let me hear you.”

Her hand slid down your stomach, her fingers dipping between your thighs, and you gasped as she found your wetness. She groaned, low and guttural, as she felt how ready you were for her.

“So eager,” she purred, her fingers teasing your entrance. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

You couldn’t answer, couldn’t think, as her fingers pushed inside you, curling just right to hit that spot that made your vision blur. She moved with a practiced precision, her thumb circling your clit as her fingers worked you, and you writhed beneath her, your hands gripping the sheets for dear life.

“Look at you,” she said, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “So desperate for me. So perfect.”

Her pace quickened, her fingers thrusting deeper, harder, and you felt the coil in your stomach tighten, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Come for me, darling. Let me feel you fall apart.”

As the firelight flickered in the darkened chamber, her mouth found yours again, her kiss consuming you entirely. She poured everything into it—her obsession, her hunger, and her unspoken claim over you.

When you woke, you were wrapped in satin sheets the color of freshly spilled wine. The dull ache in your neck reminded you that last night hadn’t been a fever dream. You touched the spot cautiously, your fingers finding tender flesh but no wound. Agatha had tended to it somehow; you could still feel the faint sting of her tongue against your skin.

As you turned, you realized you weren’t alone. Agatha sat on the edge of the bed, her robe draped loosely over her, revealing more than it hid. She held a glass of dark red wine in one hand, her other hand lazily tracing patterns on your thigh.

“You’re awake,” she said without looking at you. Her voice was calm, almost casual, but there was a sharp edge to it—possessive, in control.

You tried to sit up, but the room spun, and Agatha’s hand was on your shoulder in an instant, pressing you gently back down.

“Easy, darling,” she murmured, her fingers cool against your flushed skin. “You’ve given me so much already. You need to recover.”

Her words were kind, but her tone betrayed her satisfaction—like a predator who’d gorged herself on her prey and was now savoring the aftermath.

“Why?” you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse.

Agatha smiled, setting her glass aside. She leaned down until her face was inches from yours, her dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that stole your breath.

“Because I couldn’t resist,” she said simply. “You’re… exquisite. Every look, every breath, every drop of blood.” She cupped your face in her hand, her thumb grazing your cheekbone. “You have no idea the effect you’ve had on me.”

You flinched as her lips brushed over your forehead, but you didn’t pull away. There was a strange tenderness to her touch that made it impossible to move, even as your heart thundered in your chest.

“I should have left you alone,” she murmured, almost to herself. “But I’m not that strong. Not when it comes to you.”

The days that followed blurred together.

Agatha no longer kept her distance. She was everywhere—in the gardens during your morning chores, in the kitchen as you prepared meals, in your dreams every time you closed your eyes.

And always, her hands were on you—brushing against your arm as she passed, grazing your neck when she adjusted your collar, lingering on your waist as though she couldn’t stand to let you go.

“I’ve been patient,” she said one evening, pinning you against the cool stone of the hallway. Her voice was low, dangerous. “Do you think I’m a patient woman, darling?”

You shook your head, your words stolen by the heat of her body pressing into yours.

“No,” she said, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “I’m not.”

Her hand slid up your thigh, her touch searing through the thin fabric of your uniform. “Do you understand what you’ve done to me? How you’ve consumed my thoughts, my dreams, my every waking moment?”

Her mouth found yours before you could reply, the kiss rough and commanding. You couldn’t think—only feel. The way her hands gripped your hips, the way her teeth scraped your bottom lip, the way her breath mingled with yours as though she intended to drown you in her need.

The next morning, you woke again in her bed. She was watching you, propped up on one elbow, her fingers idly playing with your hair.

“Good morning,” she purred, her voice soft and lazy, though her eyes held that same dangerous glint.

“Why… why me?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Her smile widened, and she leaned down until her lips hovered just above yours.

“Because you’re mine,” she whispered, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

Her teeth grazed your ear, and you shivered. “And I don’t share.”

The days turned to weeks, and the line between fear and desire blurred beyond recognition. You found yourself waiting for her touch, aching for her attention, even as a small part of you screamed to run.

But there was no escaping her.

Agatha Harkness had claimed you in every way that mattered—body, blood, and soul.

And as her lips trailed down your neck, her sharp nails leaving burning paths along your skin, you knew you didn’t want her to let you go.

Because no one could consume you like she did.

No one could burn you so beautifully.

You belonged to her, entirely and inescapably.

And somehow, you didn’t care.

_-_-_

Please don't forget to vote, reblog, and comment 💜

#agatha harkness x reader #dark fanfiction #agatha all along #agathario #agatha harkness #agatha harkness fanfic #marvel #aubrey plaza #rio vidal #kathryn hahn #dark!agatha harkness

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kujiba · 7 months ago

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【I think, moto moto likes you! 】

୨୧ — ꒰ himbo!reader | he/him prounouns | NPC reader | shit posting

୨୧ — ꒰ Reader who's just your average Joe, going on about their day as an npc for the Traveler to pass by. Yet managed to rizz up a important character with 0 effort

Ft. Pantalone, Kaeya, Zhongli

A/n: I'm juggling two fanfics in one cause I'm him, also I need my himbo reader crumbs. OOC probably cause I can't read for shit

P A N T A L O N E

— Pantalone was never too fond with his subordinates nor co-workers, opting to instead focus his attention on the mora he had collected and Snezhnaya's economic policies. Indeed the man's plate was already a handfull to deal with.

— Though his life definitely took a turn once his eyes locked onto yours

— You were a simple worker for the fatui, only doing your job as a helper by carrying the more heavier and larger crates packed with weaponry for the fatui soldiers.

— To you, you generally look average, having no special qualities to be worth mentioned. But to him, good god you looked straight out of a Greek painting.

— Your muscles would bulge under your clothing, the buttons on their last lives trying to hold everything together. That sharp gaze that could cut through anything with a single stare, oh no.. HE'S HOT

— And before you knew it, your pay check began to SKY ROCKET. You almost thought it was a fever dream seeing 6 digit mora be handed over to you like it's nothing, even after you did barely anything.

�� Curious enough, you decided to personally see him in his office, questioning why you abruptly received such high pay. Not that you minded it, but you were kinda worried this was some kind of final goodbye fee before you get fired or maybe worse.

— To say that Pantalone was excited to see you was an understatement, he was absolutely ECSTATIC too see your divine and gracious self in front of him in arms reach. Oh how he wished he could just reach out to you, imagining how your strong and well built arms would wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to your body.

— Pantalone had met with many attractive people in his life, many being above the average, but you? You're a different case. Pantalones legs felt weak and wobbly JUST by being close to you, it must be an achievement to have such an important character like him act like some high school girl with a crush.

— And some days later after, you'd be flabbergasted seeing yourself climbing the ranks in a rapid pace, earning yourself a position of Pantalones personal assistant...though grateful for this opportunity, you can't help but notice the man's undeniable favoritism to you.

K A E Y A

— Kaeya is often depicted as a confident or dramatic man, regularly seen chatting with the locals and having a faint deviousness in his sapphire eyes. Being one of the more relaxed members of the Knights of Favonius, surely nothing will break the man's inner self?

— So why is it that Kaeya is standing infront of you, shy and flustered with your hand on his shoulder, previously catching him after a slight trip.

"Are you alright sir?"

— Kaeya shuddered slightly, his body twitched hearing your voice be so close to his ear, he didn't expect your voice to be so...pleasant to hear

— He mentally cursed himself, being such a high figure and acting all embarrassed for some hot stranger

— But as the days passed by, Kaeya decided to grow a pair. You often found him in some alleyways, a vast field, or even when you take a small stroll outside of your house

— Kaeya might look all calm and collected in the outside, but mentally he felt flustered and even sometimes shy by your presence, he has to take a 5 minute breather before 'coincidentally' bumping into you for the 1947th time

— But you're a pretty nice guy, not commenting on Kaeyas behavior, so like any normal person, you decided to befriend him, thinking nothing much of it but a new friend to talk to.

— But to Kaeya? This was a WAVE of bewilderment

— Mostly, when making friends he's usually considering his benefits, not having much friends anyway despite his 'flirtatious' and 'laid back' attitude.

— Kaeya even sometimes experience a sense of longing, loneliness. He never had a true friend yet all his life, but when you offered to be his friend? He felt... Sort of relieved.

— Though he himself couldn't even explain the emotions swirling inside him, the sight of you soft smiling at him. You weren't befriending him for your own benefits, but to instead genuinely be his real friend.

— And before Kaeya knew it, the two of you began to grow closer and closer as the days passed, hanging out in angels share whenever Kaeya or you had some spare time.

— He only hoped you'd accept his confession in the near future, but for now. He liked it this way.

Z H O N G L I

— Zhongli has his fair shares of companions, some still staying by his side till this day, while some others had to go. The mans basically seen it all at this point, with an experience of over 5000+ he's already accumulated thousands of stories to tell

— And you're just a guy who likes to listen in on stories here and there while eating some freshly cooked Chop Suey (杂碎)

— You two met while Zhongli was taking a small walk in Liyue Harbor, he who was peacefully enjoying the harmony and the people, admiring the sky and plants. And you who traveled from Fontaine to Liyue just to try some food and visit a family member

— You, obviously lost in the city decided to come up to him immediately since he looked pretty wise and handsome. Zhongli didn't mind guiding you around the harbor, since he had some spare time anyways

— Zhongli couldn't help but take note of how.. Tall you were compared to him, it was almost unreal. He'd met with many humans before, all of them being unique with one another, and you were no different.

— Zhonglis eyes quietly glanced at your body before right back at your oblivious smiling face, it wasn't right to check out a stranger so intimately. He had to keep his himself under control and provide you with the necessary details on your trip.

— Though, his keen eye already took notice of how you were absolutely mesmerized at him, not being able to listen much and only giving small nods.

— Zhongli eventually grew curious enough to ask why you stared at him so delicately

"Is there something on your mind?"

"Oh! Haha, sorry you're just very handsome and smart. Thank you alot sir"

— You shaked his hand and left, thanking him for his guidance, leaving a confused yet embarrassed Zhongli.

— Zhonglis gloved hand covered his face that was turning slightly red, what was it that made him so bashful? Was it the way you smiled at him? Or how you bluntly praised him out of the blue? Zhongli wasn't a stranger to compliments, yet when you said it.. Suddenly everything came crashing down.

— By the next day, Zhongli luckily found you once again, eating some of Liyues delicacies while listening on some stories, stories that were specifically about the Geo archon.

— Over time, Zhongli began to grow more and more intrigued by you each time you two cross paths, the way you act so aloof yet kind to the people, or how you always say anything that's on your mind keeps Zhongli more and more entertained by you. Regularly looking forward to meeting you every day.

— Zhongli wasn't unaware of what he was feeling as he grew closer and closer to you, even dropping some subtle hints to show his feelings for you. Yet the himbo you are, you answer completely oblivious to his feelings.

— Well, he has alot of spare time in his hands anyway. Slow and steady wins the race, and Zhongli could wait for thousands of days just for you.

A/n: Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Thanks for reading≧﹏≦

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smuttysabina · 10 months ago

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Everglow's Big Cock Impregnation

(Male Reader X Everglow, 8k Words) Tags: You have a massive cock; Like, an unreasonably huge penis; Idol impregnation; Lots of fat sloppy creampies; Anal, oral, and vaginal sex; Some messy consequences from taking a gargantuan cock; Piss; Tears; Some puking; Brutal sex; Loving sex; These girls are built like rubber; Also Jihyo shows up

You stir nervously on the bed as the idols of Everglow eye you speculatively, with expressions ranging from interested to resigned. All of them remain silent though as Sihyeon slowly reads through the letter that you had brought, her eyebrows raising higher with every line until her face is a parody of shock. She coughs awkwardly as she finishes, before giving a slight nod that makes the other girls groan with disgust; their suspicions were correct after all. Any sort of gift from that perverse matriarch Jihyo was bound to involve insemination. You of course, had already been thoroughly briefed upon what your task was to be, you were to impregnate all of Everglow, and were to continue trying until each of them had swollen bellies. Their company had been attempting to get the girls knocked up for some time, in part so they could do a pregnancy concept, and also because then they could have an actual reason for not giving the girls as many comebacks as they would like. Everglow however, had remained noticeably without child, even after countless gangbangs that had left the girls practically drowning in semen; so the expert on such matters had been consulted. Jihyo had already thoroughly examined Everglow when they had visited one of her... seminars, and so knew exactly what was required to achieve the desired results. You had been selected from amongst Twice's vast pool of breeding material, and packed off to Everglow bearing only a box and a cheerful letter from Jihyo; with her own instructions burning bright in your mind:

"Knock them up, dear," she had purred encouragingly, "and don't be afraid to be a little rough with them..."

Everglow were not entirely too pleased about their most recent assignment. They had all expected to be impregnated by their fans at some point, having their holes glutted with seed on a weekly basis would eventually result in their eggs getting properly fertilized by inferior sperm, but this was the sort of thing that usually happened near the end of a group's lifespan. Of the six idols, only EU and Sihyeon were open to the idea, the latter due to her kindly nature, while the former was simply aroused by the perversity of getting fucked while pregnant. Aisha and Mia were indifferent on the matter, they would continue to enjoy getting roughly plowed even if they had a baby bouncing around in their stomach. Onda and Yiren however, were vehemently opposed to the plan, Onda because she was horrified at the thought of having so large an object squeezed through her tight pussy, and Yiren because she was physical revolted by the concept of lowborn scum filling her with their child. So to say Everglow's reaction to your arrival was mixed would be an understatement; as they all look at the boy Jihyo had sent them, wondering what made you so special...

Aisha makes a pleased noise as she tears open the box, pulling out a purple bottle that glistened in the light, by now every idol was more than familiar with Twice's aphrodisiacal concoction; and Aisha enjoyed the raw sexual aggression it gave its drinkers. Then she notes the rather large "2" emblazoned on its label, and sighs as she reads that the new brew had tamped down on the sexual aggression in favor of... "Enhanced sperm density and capacity," Aisha gives the other girls a bland look as she tosses the expensive bottle onto the bed, "Jihyo really is serious about getting us knocked up." Yiren rolls her eyes, "If that is all it takes, then why can't we just give it to a more... suitable man," before giving you an unhappy glare. "Hey now," Sihyeon coughs awkwardly as she tries to placate Yiren, "Jihyo picked him for a reason, so let's see, okay?" Grumbling, Yiren waves at you to hurry it up, "Well?" And the rest of Everglow return to staring curiously at you, "show us already..." So you blushingly wriggle out of your pants, and wait for the inevitable mockery and disgust. "Oh," says Aisha with interest. "Wow," says EU with a perverse gleam in her eyes. "What the fuck," says Yiren naseausly. "Goodness," says a shocked Sihyeon. "Mmmph," says an aroused Mia. "Nononono," says a horrified Onda, who promptly pisses herself.

The other girls ignore the puddle spreading from beneath Onda as they thoroughly examine your truly monstrous manhood, as if someone urinating on the floor was not an uncommon sight for them. Everglow crowd around to poke and prod at your massive cock, muttering in disbelief and shock at the sheer size and heft of it, and you worry that it would all end in tears or laughter like so many of your other liaisons. Having such a gargantuan dong had meant that you had never been inside a woman before, most girls had simply refused to even try, while those that did usually ended up shaking their heads in exasperation; it simply couldn't fit. You had hoped that Jihyo would put your virginity out of its misery, but she had simply smiled knowingly and told you to hold on a little longer; she had kindly milked you using her breasts though, which had resulted in you hosing Jihyo's face down with thick semen. So you were expecting more of the same from your beloved idols of Everglow, that they would reject Jihyo's instructions and look for another way to get knocked up; really, you should have known better. While some of the girls appeared downright horrified, others looked on benignly, or even watched with obvious arousal as their sleek hands touched your meat. You shudder as Mia and EU unexpectedly lean in and smooch the length of flesh before them, before they hold their arms up to your cock in comparison, laughing with the others in wonder as your dick dwarfs their forearms. To your shock, it is Yiren who ends the festival atmosphere by making the first move.

"What the hell is that bitch trying to say, that we're too loose to get impregnated?" Yiren sneers contemptuously at you, "Fine then, I'll fuck this ridiculous thing, and then I can get back to getting bred by men who actually matter!" The other idols greet this pronouncement with cheers and teasing laughter, evidently they were as used to Yiren being a haughty bitch as they were to Onda pissing herself in fear. Sihyeon busies herself with opening the bottle of aphrodisiac, and feeds you a measure of it with a reassuring smile before backing off as warmth rushes through your body and surges in your balls. Your heart pounds in your chest as Yiren confidently strips before you, uncaring of any trepidation you might have as she stalks towards you, her perky breasts complimenting her rolling narrow hips. She shoves you onto your back with a delicate hand, before gracefully straddling your crotch, her lips curl as she takes in just how massive your cock is compared to her petite body; but her pride drives her onwards. Yiren hoists your monstrous dick, and pauses once more as it thuds between her breasts, her eyebrows raise as she looks down at you with incredulity, "Seriously, what the fuck," Grimacing, she precariously plants herself atop your drooling cockhead, which itself was nearly as wide as her entire pussy, and takes a deep breath to relax her hole. Yiren's legs tense as she applies more and more of her bodyweight to the task, and the thick trunk of your member starts to wobble dangerously, as soon the idol is forcing her entire upper body onto it. She soon has support however, as Mia, Onda, and Sihyeon work to hold your cock steady as Aisha and EU grasp their groupmate's shoulders to add their own efforts to the struggle. Yiren grits her teeth, as you feel a moist sensation slowly spreading across your tip, until with sudden tearing sensation, your cockhead pops inside of her.

Yiren screams. The rest of Everglow jerk back in surprise as Yiren howls as if she had been stabbed, clutching at her pussy and struggling to stand off of your cock, but she is trapped by the flare of your head. The other girls rush too sooth her, she might be an arrogant bitch, but she was their arrogant bitch, and under their tender touches she eventually calms herself down enough to glare down at you furiously, "Fucking peasant, how fucking dare you-" she hisses with pain as she slowly starts to move, "Why is it so damn big?" she bemoans. You would reply, but you are too busy enjoying the novel sensation of a real woman's hole wrapped around your cock. Whatever details Yiren's pampered pussy had were obliterated as it was stretched agonizingly wide to accommodate your meat, but it's burning heat and wetness stimulated you to no end as the idol picks up her pace. You instinctively reach up towards her waist to haul her further down your length, but she angrily slaps your hands away, "Don't fucking touching me, you scum! she snarls as she slowly impales herself on your cock, her entire body quivering as an obvious bulge appears in her stomach. Yiren halts with only a third of your cock inside of her, groaning as she tries to force herself deeper but is unable to do so. The rest of Everglow lounge around you both, idly masturbating beneath their skirts as she gingerly starts to ride you, the pink flesh of her pussy dragging along your shaft as she moves.

The privileged idol gradually regains her hauteur as she grows used to the massive length stretching out her belly, and soon Yiren is sneering down at you once more, "Such- a- useless- hunk- of- meat," she hisses between strokes, "You are- lucky- a lady like me- took your- worthless- fucking- virginity!" You simply lay back and take it, groaning as the aristocratic bitch perched atop your cock hurls abuse at you even while she fucks you. The changing pitch of your voice causes Yiren to pause though, and an imperious smirk crosses her face, "What, already? Very well, I shall allow your filthy, lowborn seed inside of me," she stops and gives you an expectant look, "Well peasant? I don't have all day!" With that she resumes her ride, gritting her teeth as she impatiently pleasures you until your balls are nestled against your shaft and pulsating rhythmically. Yiren preens as the first ropes of semen splash inside of her, expertly rising upwards to make room for your load as it gradually fills her, "You really think your worthless seed could- ah?" she glances down as the tight lips of her entrance bump against the flare of your cockhead, even as your seed continues to steadily flow inside of her pussy. Yiren's eyes widen in shock, and then panic as she struggles to unmount you, her pampered cunt was filled to capacity but your orgasm was not yet finished. She moans and clutches at her stomach as it bulges with your cum, but she retains enough of her pride to refuse calling for help, even shoving a finger up her urethra to stop her bladder from voiding itself from the pressure.

Only when your balls have fallen does Yiren demean herself enough to ask for assistance, her legs trembling as she struggles to hold herself upright on top of your gargantuan cock. The other girls hurry to help her off of you, they might have enjoyed watching her getting her guts pummeled, but they would still support the arrogant bitch no matter what. Your dick slams wetly against your chest as Yiren finally succeeds in unmounting you, a gush of seminal fluids and precum follows, but the majority of your enhanced load remains within the idol. Everglow seems to have mostly forgotten about you as they sooth a groaning Yiren, though they are quick to examine the load currently clogging her insides. Which causes EU to undiplomatically note, "I think you're getting pregnant whether you like it or not, his jizz is like butter!" Yiren, of course, is deeply unhappy about this, and the other girls retreat as she petulantly drives them off, before quietly crying and shamelessly pissing on the bed. Sihyeon remains behind to give her some comfort, but the rest of Everglow now eye with far more respect than before, as well as desire. "So," says Aisha as she pulls up her dress, revealing the flushed, cinnamon-colored slit between her legs, and gives you a sleazy grin, "Me next then?"

Aisha's long legs are wide open in welcome as you approach, your monstrous manhood bobbing between your legs, already leaking once more after you received another draught of aphrodisiac. Unlike Yiren, Aisha's meaty pussy was more than ready for you, her lower lips gaping, and her hole already drooling creamy fluids in anticipation for your dick. You press your tip against her entrance, but it keeps slipping upwards, grinding against her hooded clit as it penetrates the air above her belly. Aisha laughs at your frustration, but is as eager as you are to fuck, so she guides you inside of her; though she does tease you remorselessly as she does so. Her eyes roll back as your thick member pushes inside of her, and she lets out a sultry groan as you slowly stretch her out, her gushing folds slobbering all over your shaft as you fill her. The warmth of her body thrills you as you steadily shove yourself deeper into Aisha, and it only stops when you are nearly all the way in, no matter how hard you press against her completely expanded cunt. Aisha pokes at herself just beneath her ribcage, and gives you an impressed look, "Fuck, I don't think you can go any deeper," she pauses for a moment, before a salacious smile crosses her face, "This is going to be fun..."

You had never been active with a woman before, so to say your technique was terrible would be an understatement. You clumsily adjusted your bodyweight as you awkwardly attempted to thrust into Aisha, your motions tentative as you don't want to injure her with your colossal cock. But Aisha is not Yiren, and after a few minutes of fumbling she sighs and gives you an encouraging pat on the cheek, "I'm not fragile you know, be as rough as you'd like," So you stop holding back, and attempt to put more weight behind your movement, making her gasp every time you hit deepest spot, but it still isn't enough. Aisha slaps you, "I said, be rough, virgin," she hisses up at you, and adrenaline surges through at this shaming. You pull all the way back until the flare of your cockhead touches her entrance, before viciously slamming your entire length into her. Aisha's eyes balloon, and she gulps dangerously before stabilizing, her entire body quivering from the violence of your insertion; her lips spread into a wicked grin, "Good boy... just, like, that!" With her greedy cunt wrapping itself as tightly around you as it can, you vigorously plow the idol into the bed, making the sensuous slut grunt like an animal as you pound her insides out of shape. Aisha climaxes repeatedly, dousing your crotch with vast quantities of squirt that eventually transforms into almost continuous pissing as she completely loses control of her bladder.

The puddle soaking into the soggy sheets only grows as you actively fuck a woman for the first time in your life, reveling in the cramped warmth you are forcing your member into. Her lower lips sputter noisily as the pressure from your fucking causes steamy air to rush out of her hole, and her butt palpitates weakly as her guts are pistoned. Aisha seems to be enjoying it as much as you are, holding tightly onto Onda's hand, who gives you curiously furious glances as she attempts to needlessly sooth her friend. The other two members of your audience are busy chattering away as they watch you rutting with Aisha, with both EU and Mia fondling the site of yours and Aisha's joining, "Fuck, look how deep he is!" "Wow, good thing we cleaned our asses out before this, Aisha's is wide open!" "Literally fucking the guts out of her!" "I wonder if I could fit him all..." "You can't get knocked up through your butt, Mia!" "Eh, just scoop it out and shove it in my cunt." "Gladly! Hmm I wonder..."

Aisha gasps beneath you suddenly, and you feel someone's narrow arm pressing up against your balls, as Aisha's pussy abruptly clamps down on your cock like a vice, "Fuck... they're in my ass," she manages through gritted teeth before spasming once more as she messily orgasms all over your crotch. The squelching stimulation of the idol's cunt already had you on the edge, but the arousing realization that the sultry Aisha was getting anally fisted while you were stretching her out was too much for you to handle. Your strokes grow long and deep, as you instinctively seek to force your cock as deep as possible inside of her before planting your seed in her belly. Helping hands urge your swaying balls upwards, as Aisha's lithe legs lock tightly and around your waist, ensuring there would be no pulling out even if you wanted to. She cups your cheeks and nods encouragingly, growling lustfully for you to knock her up as the bulge your tip is making pulsates almost between her perky breasts. You groan as pleasure surges up your shaft and spills into Aisha, whose eyes roll back from the perverse stimulation of being impregnated, her entire body quivering as it takes your semen. Much like with Yiren, your cock is forced back out by the immensity of your load, but unlike with the previous idol, Aisha was capacious enough to take it all without to much trouble; and she is left looking smug when you finally stop shuddering with your cock only halfway out of her.

Aisha's pussy makes disgustingly sloppy noises when you pull out of it, as she lays back and idly strokes her stomach, "Ugh, I am so fucking sore," she lifts her head up to look at you, "Thanks for the fuck though, and the baby I guess," before laughing painfully. Her cunt gapes lewdly, drenched with piss and sexual fluids, palpitating as its owner breathes heavily, thoroughly inseminated. EU curls up against her, the pair whispering conspiratorially while Onda holds Aisha's head in her lap, glaring irritably at you. Mia drags your attention away from the somewhat endearing tableau, by returning with a familiar purple bottle, and teasingly opening your mouth to feed you some of the aphrodisiac by hand. Once she was satisfied you had swallowed enough to give her a properly potent load, the idol promptly bends over and spreads her cheeks for you; calling over EU to lube her up. The pervert responds with gusto, sloppily eating out Mia's asshole while you watch with cock in hand, shoving her tongue as deep as possible inside of her friend while she moans with pleasure. Eventually, Mia musters up enough energy to swat EU away, laughingly telling her, "No, actually get some lube you idiot! I'm going to need more than spit to take... that," she says, glaring meaningfully at your monstrous member.

EU proceeds to empty nearly an entire bottle of lubricant into Mia's butt, squeezing it until her guts were awash, before using the remaining fluids to lather your cock. You shudder as her tiny hand skillfully stroke your thick meat, working it until it was bulging at full length and ready to fill her friend. Wearing a nasty smile, EU guides you to the other idol, who was waiting patiently with her anus gaping in soggy welcome. Your bulbous cockhead slowly forces Mia's asshole wider, causing her to stiffen as you gradually strain the flesh around it, until with a sudden push you were inside. Mia's legs spasm, and she almost collapses from the entrance of your colossal manhood, but she catches herself and looks back at you in amusement, "Wow, you are thick, I won't be able to sit down after this!" You deliberately work yourself deeper inside of her, the tight coils of her ass wrapping themselves around your shaft far differently than the soft folds of Aisha and Yiren's pussies had. You groan in amazement as you grasp her petite waist, watching inch after inch of your cock disappearing inside Mia, until finally your weighty balls kiss her drooling slit. The idol gurgles in triumph, her toes twitching as she clutches at her belly, moaning in pained pleasure as she struggles to deal with the massive spear of flesh impaling her guts. You were finally balls-deep inside of a woman.

Trembling, you pull out until most of your glistening length is revealed before shoving yourself all the way inside once more. When you had first entered Mia, you had had to slowly press through several interior sphincters, but now you simply blew through all of them. Mia promptly pisses on the bed as she nearly passes out from the trauma, her breath hiking dangerously until Sihyeon sprints over with a trashcan; just in the nick of time. Mia vomits spectacularly into the black trash bag, heaving with every thrust as you find yourself unable to stop from pleasuring your cock with her innards. Not that any of the idols seemed inclined to stop you from violating her during her vulnerable moment, and the lady herself seemed to be furiously masturbating the entire time. The soft flesh of her asscheeks pressing against your crotch while your entire shaft was inside of her warm body was intoxicating, you were starting to see why everyone loved doggy position so much. Mia quivers uncontrollably as you force her insides out of shape, brutally pounding away at her body, impossibly deep inside of her but she still does not tap out. Instead she continues to climax, groaning as she indulges in one of her more extreme fetishes; you only wish you could see her face as she gruntingly urges you on. Soon the stimulation from having your entire length pleasured has your balls throbbing once more, which does not go unnoticed by the experienced slut, "You! Cum in," she growls through gritted teeth, "my, cunt!" But as the moment fast approaches you find yourself unable to resist Mia's sloppy asshole...

Luckily, Everglow were not about to waste one of your loads inside Mia's intestines, even if EU seemed more than happy to scoop it out into her cunt, and EU and Sihyeon promptly haul Mia off of your cock. What looks to be a decent portion of the idol's asshole follows you out, a spasming pink tube that gapes uselessly as it strains to pull itself back inside of its owner's body. Your dick twitches mournfully as it leaves the warm confines of Mia's anus, and your hands grasp at the air in surprise, until the pair promptly yank Mia back up; except this time they make sure that your member enters the lower hole. You and Mia both gasp as your filthy cock slams into her unprepared pussy, filling her only to only half your length, but it was enough to drag the semen up from your balls. Groaning, you fuck Mia's cunt as best you can as rope after rope of cum spews inside of her, but you are surprised to discover that your cock is not forced back by the sheer volume of sperm inundating her. Mia looks back at you, drooling as she proudly gurgles, "Fuck, my womb is so full..." Evidently Mia's cervix had been loosened by excessive use, and you can already feel yourself stiffening slightly at the thought of violating her most sacred place. The idol laughs as she feels it, "Hit me up in a week or something, I want to try getting my guts filled up until I'm puking your cum," she pauses thoughtfully, "We can try fitting you into my womb as well, but you won't get much inside."

You leave Mia laying there on the bed after promising to call her, blandly trying to shove the prolapsed length of her guts back where it belonged with little success; and hopefully with a well-fertilized egg attached to her ravaged womb. Which of course, still left half of Everglow to impregnate, and so you look around to find your next partner. Sihyeon was busy bustling around looking for Twice's special sauce, while EU was having a hilarious time playing with Mia's blown-out anus, and Onda... Onda was still busy soothing Aisha, but the moment she notices your attention she makes a break for it, going nearly horizontal as she scrambles to get off the bed. The other girls howl in outrage as they notice her attempting to escape, but Aisha is quick to grasp her ankle, and Onda plows a furrow through the sheets as she faceplants onto the mattress. EU and Sihyeon scuttle over, and are soon locked in a vicious melee as the recalcitrant idol attempts to fight them off. Aisha and Mia exhaustedly haul themselves closer to assist in pinning her down, and soon Onda is on her back with her legs painfully forced open. Who wails like the damned as you position yourself in front of her and receive your usual draught, her eyes boggling at the stupendous sight of your gargantuan cock twitching so close to her sex. The rest of Everglow roll their eyes at her dramatic behavior in exasperation, evidently they were used to this.

"Onda, just relax okay- ouch! She bit me!" Mia hisses in pain and Onda struggles to free her arm from the annoyed idol's grasp. "Ow, watch it!" "Can someone please grab their panties?" "Mine are covered in piss..." "Whatever, just shove it in her mouth!" "Mmmmmppphh!" Onda screams through the stinking fabric, struggling mightily to escape to little avail. "Maybe if you actually did some stretching exercises, you wouldn't be so worried," Aisha shakes her head indulgently, "Seriously," EU pipes in, "If Yiren's pampered pussy can take it, yours can too!" Onda merely whines pitifully as the rest of Everglow vent themselves a little bit, before remembering you were right there. At their urging, you hesitantly move between Onda's legs, you really didn't want to hurt the poor girl, even if the other girls were acting so callous about it. So you cautiously put your tip against her neat lips and start gently pushing.

You could not get it in. You started applying more and more pressure, but Onda's pussy was simply unable to stretch wide enough to accommodate even your tip, even as you start to put your entire body-weight into it. Urine sprays wildly over all of you as Onda's bladder lets loose in an animalistic defensive response, futilely pissing on you in an attempt to drive you away as she writhes beneath you. Eventually you are forced to stop, your frustration growing as you find yourself once more unable to enter a girl due to the massive size of your manhood; idols were supposed to be able to handle you! Luckily, like most idols, Everglow knew how to help a girl along, and quickly get to work loosening Onda up while Sihyeon entertains you. She sucks your tip and strokes your shaft, kissing up and down your length while behind her the trio are hard at work ravishing Onda's erogenous zones and gradually stretching out her cramped entrance. Once the faux-virgin had been suitably loosened up, the girls urge you to try again, and this time the initial portion of your tip makes some headway before coming to stop. Onda practically chews through her gag as she wriggles, trying to escape her coming impalement but unable to do so with three girls pinning her down. Only when Sihyeon presses herself against you, and adds her bodyweight to your own, does your cockhead finally pop inside of Onda before almost immediately hitting her limit.

Onda shrieks bloody murder and goes berserk, clawing at the bed in a frenzy before exhaustion takes hold and she moans piteously, her hips quivering. Her pussy was even tighter than Yiren's, almost crushing your tip as it sought to expel it from her cramped canal, and you could barely fit any more of your dick inside of her. Unable to properly stimulate your manhood, you are reduced to awkwardly fucking the few inches of pussy that you could; this might take a while... Or it would if Everglow were a bunch of squealing virgins, which they weren't (no matter how much Onda tried to pretend), and leaving AIsha to keep Onda's arms down, the other three start to skillfully work your load out. Mia plies your balls and taint with her tongue, urging your sack upwards, while EU and Sihyeon kiss you and rhythmically stroke your shaft until you can almost believe that you are fucking Onda. While not the most intimate sex you've had today, having four beautiful idols all pleasuring you was far from unpleasant, and you enjoy fondling them while they do so. You are surprised at how smooth and supple their bodies are, you should have been feeling them up from the start! Your excitement builds, and soon a familiar warmth is coursing down your shaft, you groan as you feel your load pour into the helpless Onda, whose tight cunt struggles to contain the semen pouring into it. The idol thrashes around, her eyes widening with horror as a bulge starts to show in her belly, spit foaming from her lips while she howls through her gag. Abruptly, Onda stops moving, her eyes roll back, and she promptly passes out, even as her pussy continues to slowly expand with buttery cum.

It takes some effort to extract the small portion of your cock from Onda's snug cunt, but once you remove yourself, it only gapes for a few moments before closing until it was at its original diameter. Aisha curls up with the unconscious idol, reversing their roles as she now tenderly cares for Onda like she had for Aisha. Mia meanwhile sprawls loosely on the bed, she was already tired after getting her guts rearranged, and having to help with Onda's impregnation had sapped what energy remained. Sihyeon meanwhile wanders out, politely excusing herself before leaving; only for a short while though she insists. EU pulls your attention away from the other girls by kissing you passionately, hungrily forcing her tongue down your throat and pressing her petite body against yours. Your cock is squished between your sweaty bodies, the tip nestled between her perky breasts while you gleefully grope her soft butt. EU growls between kisses, "I want it. I want you so fucking bad," she moves down to your neck, latching on like a lamprey and leaving her mark on your skin. She plants kisses as she winds down to your nipples, sucking and teasing them until she is satisfied before slobbering all over your cockhead. EU's face is flushed with excitement as she gives you a nasty grin, "Hey, gotta piss?"

You realize with a start that you are indeed in need of a lengthy bathroom break, but before you can excuse yourself the pervert idol offers you an easy solution. "Why don't you just piss in my ass then," EU smirks, "Or wherever you like, really. I am down for... anything" she purrs, drawing out the last word seductively, as she demurely looks up at you. She rises once more and nibbles on your ear, eager to corrupt you, "And by anything, I mean it. Wanna fill my throat with your cock, rape my ass until I scream, plow me until I break, make me eat your filthy ass out, piss in my mouth until I puke it out, roleplay as your cute little sister? C'mon, c'mon! Let's make it nasty," Her eyes gleam with excitement as she slowly pries your most depraved fantasies out of you, things you had always wanted to do with a naughty girl but never had. EU giggles maniacally as she sees your depraved urges win over, licking your cheek as she asks, "So, where are you pissing then, baby?"

EU looks excitedly up at you, her mouth wide open with her fingers prying her cutesy cheeks even wider, her tongue sticking straight out. The initial stream of urine splashes over her face before you can zero in on her mouth, which steadily fills with yellow fluid until she swallows it with a gulp. But EU's mouth starts filling up a moment later, and her throat bobs steadily as she does her best to swallow every last drop of your urine. Her gag reflex suddenly catches, and she coughs your latest load of piss up, leaning back as you continue to shower her with stinking liquid until she is soaked in it. EU looks smug as your bladder finally finishes emptying itself, licking her lips clean, "So how did you like using an idol like a piss-rag?" She grins sleazily as your manhood bulges in answer, rubbing her slit that was dripping with more than just urine, "Fuck I want it inside of me so bad..." EU scrambles up and forces you back down to your knees before straddling you like a monkey, rubbing her drooling cunt against your cockhead, moaning eagerly. You had thought the smallest member of Everglow would be even more difficult to penetrate than Onda, but instead your dick slips inside of EU as easily as it had into Aisha. Both of your eyes widen as a bulge slowly travels up her stomach until it nestles between her tits, and you realize that almost the entirety of your cock was buried inside of the petite idol. EU smirks, and voluntarily pisses on your crotch in celebration, "I told you I make a good fleshlight..."

You groan loudly as you use EU like a cheap sex toy, her legs wrapped tightly around your waist, her toned body light enough to lift with ease as you slam it down your length again and again. The perverted idol squirts repeatedly as you pound her innards out of shape, gasping and squealing as her surprisingly stretchable pussy devours your monstrous cock. "Breakmebreakmebreakmebreakme-" she wails as her tongue lolls, her tummy bulging obscenely as your dick forces its way through her insides, and loving every second of it. Moaning, you continue to pleasure yourself with the petite girl, churning her sloshing stomach with every thrust until a hint of panic enters her eyes, and she hurriedly motions for you to turn her around. So you drop her, and she squirms off your cock, looking around desperately for support, and a queasy-looking Yiren crawls over dragging the trashcan. EU gratefully opens her mouth to say thanks, but instead of gratitude, partially-digested piss spews out of it, and only most of it makes it inside of the bin. Yiren grimaces and curses in disgust at the sight, while you are treated to the far more arousing display of EU's sloppy cervix forcing its way out of her gaping cunt, her womb prolapsing itself.

So of course you take EU from behind, even with her head buried in a trashcan, shoving her womb back into place and sending fresh convulsions through her with every thrust. Her pussy spasms around your cock every time she retches, squeezing your cock in new and interesting ways, while she squirts and pisses all over the sheets. Yiren scowls at your indecorous display of lust, but the stench coming from the bin gets to her too, and she unhappily joins her fellow idol in noisily venting her stomach. Once she has finished filling the trashcan with a frothing mess, EU looks back at you with an exhausted yet ecstatic gleam in her eyes, "You literally fucked your piss out of me," she gurgles happily, "fuck, it feels like you're breaking me in half!" a shudder runs through her as she climaxes once more, "C'mon, make me your fleshlight, ruin me, I'm your toy!" Groaning you hoist the petite idol up and do just that, viciously slamming her down onto your gargantuan cock as your muscles burn with adrenaline. EU's tiny body shudders with pleasure as it is abused beyond its limits, the perverted slut unable to do anything other than orgasm and beg for more, your dick so deep inside of her it nearly is coming out of her throat.

You had always destroyed your plastic fleshlights when you finally came, so it only made sense that you were doing the same to your first flesh-and-blood fleshlight as well. EU's arms flail as the supreme moment approaches, burbling eagerly in anticipation of your massive load; while your thrusts grow long and deep. She babbles happily as her cunt quivers around your length, urging you to pump her full of seed, to put your baby in her tiny belly. "Breedmebreedmebreedme!" EU squeals as she feels your shaft pulsating, and her cries grow higher in pitch as your load erupts inside of her stretched out pussy, drooling uncontrollably as she climaxes from the sheer pleasure of being bred. The petite idol shudders, impaled upon your cock as your seed pours into her ravaged hole, unable to escape and unwilling to do so. You groan as rope after rope spews into EU slowly filling her until your cock was mostly outside of her and you were forced to drop her onto her hands and knees; whereupon she promptly collapses in a soggy puddle of fluids and piss. With a disgusting plop, you pull out of her pussy, which sputters foully as your thinner seed and precum leaks out of her blown out cunt. EU strokes her distended stomach and coos, "I-I'm gonna have a baby! Sorry," she gurgles as she starts to pass out, "your mom is a pervert..."

As exhausted as the rest of Everglow after your frantic sex with EU, you collapse back onto the bed, your chest heaving as you try and recover from your exertions. Whereupon Sihyeon returns, cheerfully waving her knee-support, "Okay, I found it everyone! Did I miss much?" She takes in the situation, Yiren with her face buried in the trashcan, still heaving, and EU, with her creampied cunt gaping wide open and passed out in a puddle of her own piss and cum; and doesn't even blink. She beams as she notes the thoroughly inseminated state of EU's pussy, and kindly rubs Yiren's back before hauling her out of the trashbin and onto the bed, where she groans and clutches at her stomach. Only then does Siyheon plop down next to you with a smile, "Well it's my turn now, isn't it?" she rummages around in the tangled sheets until she pulls out the bottle of aphrodisiac, giving it an experimental shake before giving you a quizzical look, "EU did give you some before you bred her, right?" she sighs as you tiredly think about it, "Oh well, you can just come back next week and try it again, and I'm sure Mia wouldn't mind getting some sex in as well," she pats your cheek affectionately, "but it's our turn now, so let's put a baby in my belly!" with that she carefully gives you a hefty draught of purple liquid, before smooching you gently.

Unlike the previous member of Everglow, Sihyeon seems content to take her time with things, and lavishes you with attention as she slowly nurses your cock to full length. She gives you kisses aplenty, as well as intimate cuddles while she gingerly strokes your shaft, working the blood back into it with surprising care. Sihyeon urges you to relax and regain your energy, massaging you with her hands, kneading your flesh, and licking and sucking upon your erogenous zones, but always making sure to return to press her lips against yours. Slowly but surely, your erection returns, and with it your arousal, which you can only partially slake by exploring Sihyeon's body as thoroughly as she was working yours; squeezing her modest breasts and rubbing her butt. The idol is visibly pleased to see your lust returning, but is still firmly insistent that she initially set the pace, to make sure you do not strain yourself unduly before finishing. Sihyeon raises your cock skywards once more, and like Aisha before her, attempts to squat awkwardly atop it before grimacing as her knee spasms; even with her brace she could not put too much pressure on it. So instead she leans it back downwards and straddles your chest, her stomach pressed against your face, and mounts it horizontally instead, sliding slowly down your body until your monstrous member is all the way in her.

Sihyeon looks somewhat self-conscious as she sits atop your crotch, as if waiting for criticism, but you are at a loss as to why until you realize the sheer mundanity of the situation. Sihyeon had taken your entire gargantuan dick without any trouble at all, she was not wailing in pain, pissing herself uncontrollably, or puking her guts out; instead she was seated calmly atop it, faintly embarrassed but otherwise without distress. What was most striking though was how different her pussy felt, its soft folds cradled your cock, instead of attempting to crush your dick as it was stretched out; was this how ordinary sex felt like? Sihyeon coughs awkwardly, "I hope you don't mind, I'm a little... looser than the other girls" rocking slowly atop your cock as you rush to assure her that you were more than satisfied with her pussy. She flushes slightly, "Well then, let's get started, shall we?" With that Sihyeon starts to ride you, unable to get much height into her bounces due to her knee, she still manages to get enough movement in to stimulate your cock. You let out a moan as her fleshy insides massage your shaft, softly pleasuring you with its heat and wetness as much as its tender pressure.

Your lovemaking was relaxed and intimate, with your hands around Sihyeon's waist guiding her down your length, while she alternatively groped herself or ran her hands down your chest. When the idol finally climaxes, it is with little fanfare, she simply moans and jerkily grinds on your cock for a few moments as her pussy spasms around your member; you were pleasantly surprised to not get showered with urine for once. Sighing languidly, Sihyeon's eyes flicker open and she gives you a flirtatious smile, "Want to be on top this time, how would you like me?" You were tempted to take her in doggy, but with the intimate mood of the sex, there really was only one position to choose... Sihyeon giggles shyly at your answer, and leans back, smoothly pulling you on top of her as she goes so that you end up in missionary. She hikes her hips upwards and wraps her legs around your shoulders, ensuring you would be able to reach as deep as possible inside of her, "I haven't done mating press in a while," she muses as you position yourself atop her thighs and start thrusting. Now on top, you were able to maintain a steady rhythm, almost bouncing on top of Sihyeon as you dragged most of your length out of her before slamming it back into her capacious pussy. The idol seems mostly untroubled by your vigorous thrusts, smiling knowingly as she kindly urges you on, your faces only inches apart as you make love. Her soft folds lavish your shaft with moist warmth, pulling you deep inside of her again and again as your hefty balls slap against her asshole. Sihyeon's eyes widen as your pace quickens, and her pussy tightens noticeably around your manhood to spur you on, "Yes," she gasps, "just relax, let it all out, that's it..." You groan and kiss her as heat surges up through your shaft, melting into her as the turgid warmth of your seed spills into her belly.

You thrust gently as your balls empty themselves into Sihyeon's fertile pussy, staying hilt-deep inside of her as your semen gradually floods into her hole that stretches ever deeper to accommodate your load. You both shudder in the afterglow of sex, pleased by the comfortable normality of the sex that was usually far from ordinary, relishing in the warmth of one another's' bodies. Eventually you recover enough to gingerly unstick yourself from her, the sweat from your passionate coupling having fused your skin together. Sihyeon sluggishly rubs her stomach, "There is so much in me," she marvels wearily, "I think I might have just gotten knocked up..." She gives your hand a loving squeeze and you take the hint to pull out, and crosses her legs behind you to seal your seed inside of her; she was making absolutely sure her egg would get fertilized. Sihyeon glances around, visually collecting the other members; EU was still passed out in the puddle of fluids, Aisha and Onda were curled up together napping, Yiren had fallen asleep not far from them, and Mia was noisily pissing in the trashcan. Sighing, she gives you a sleepy smile, "Well, thank you for stopping by and impregnating us all, and do remember to come back in a week to make sure EU actually got bred! Ummm," she pauses thoughtfully, "I guess we can discuss parentage stuff later? Don't worry too much about it though, we will be putting Forever down on the bitch certificate," she winks knowingly, before awkwardly waving goodbye, "So, see you in a week, and hopefully at our next fanmeets!"

As you leave, Mia glances up at you, still shamelessly squatting over the trashbin, and gives you an enticing smirk, "Try to save up until then, you can fuck me after you finish plowing that pervert full of cum again," You blush at this crass statement, but know that more likely than not you would follow her sordid request. Once you leave the room, you are politely escorted out of the building and bundled into a waiting car, which takes you directly back to Jihyo's lair in the JYPE building. Once there, the matriarch herself quizzes you intensely on what occurred, nodding approvingly as you relate how exactly you had creampied each member of Everglow; her nose wrinkles with faint disgust at times, but she remains encouraging throughout. After a solid hour of debriefing, she insists that you help yourself to a hearty meal, and kindly reminds you to drink lots of water, before assigning you a room near hers for the night; she wanted to make sure you recovered without an overnight interruption. You fall asleep in the luxurious covers, exhausted, yet pleased by your performance, it was not everyday that you got to lose your virginity to one of your favorite idol groups, let alone impregnate each and every one of them...

You gradually awaken, aware as always of the colossal weight of your morning wood resting against your chest, but was surprised by the additional heaviness of another person as well. Your startled motion awakens your curvaceous bed-partner, who languidly sits up, stretching before giving you a motherly smile, "Good morning, dear," Jihyo says with a kindly yet hungry gleam in her eyes, "Now it's time for mommy to enjoy herself as well..." she purrs as she leans down to kiss you.

You might have a massive cock, but that didn't mean Jihyo couldn't have you begging for mercy within minutes...

#smut #kpop smut #everglow smut #aisha smut #e:u smut #mia smut #onda smut #sihyeon smut #yiren smut #Everglow fanfic

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meadowfics · 2 days ago

Text

night carnage

hwang in-ho x f!reader

synopsis: carnage happened all around as you slept peacefully.

warnings: violence, death, the 2015 games, graphic descriptions. 18+

requested

you lie in bed, the thin mattress creaking beneath you. it was never comfortable, the way you feel like your back was pressing into the metal below the mattress.

the way your heart pounds so loud, it feels like it might burst through your chest. the dormitory is quiet now, save for the soft snores and occasional mumbles from the other players.

five days ago, you were just player 067, one of 456 strangers thrown into this hellish game, fighting for survival and a fortune you could barely comprehend.

now, only seven of you remain.

to say that you're terrified would have been an understatement.

this kind of unease settles into your bones and makes every breath feel like your last.

you didn’t drink the soju at last night’s feast, unlike the others who laughed and clinked glasses, their faces flushed with false hope as they beg the guards for more soju and rice.

the guards called it a gift, a way to “fuel up” for the final game tomorrow.

you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something else.

as if it was a trap, a way to dull your senses.

inho, player 132, didn’t drink either.

you noticed his sharp eyes scanning the room as everyone else ate, his jaw tight, as if he knew something you didn’t.

you met inho five days ago, on the first day of the games.

you were both exhausted, battered from the red light green light game that really cemented your fear.

he grabbed your arm when you stumbled, saving your life as you nearly fell in front of him.

inho's grip was firm but not cruel, and his eyes held something you hadn’t seen in days: humanity.

from that moment, an unspoken bond formed between you.

unfortunately, you seen the humanity leave his eyes over the last few days. there was no more since you met him almost a week ago.

you didn't realize that he was the only player losing it.

you were too.

since forever, you didn’t trust easily. how could you now, in a place like this?

however, inho was different. he didn’t talk much, but when he did, it was with purpose. he shared his food when your hands shook too much to hold the spoon. he stood watch when you slept, his silhouette a quiet reassurance in the dim light.

you didn’t know his story, and he didn’t ask for yours.

it was enough to know you were both still here, together.

the dormitory is a vast, cold space, the walls were once lined with bunk beds stacked like cages. now, its only seven beds spread out.

the golden piggy bank looms high above, its glowing hue casting eerie shadows across the room.

as you notice most of the players asleep, you sit up, your back against the wall, trying to fight the exhaustion pulling at your eyelids.

sleep is a luxury you can’t afford, not with the final game looming.

the guards promised no violence, but you didn't believe that.

your nerves are frayed, each creak of the beds or rustle of sheets sends a shockwave through you.

you glance at inho’s bunk, a few beds down.

he’s awake too, his eyes glinting in the faint light.

he nods slightly at you, a silent acknowledgment.

you nod back, your throat too tight to speak.

the feast last night was strange.

the guards had rolled out tables laden with food....steaming rice, grilled fish, vegetables, kimbap, water, and bottles of soju. the other players, desperate for a moment of relief, had eaten and drunk with abandon.

you and inho had exchanged a look, both of you picking at the food but avoiding the alcohol.

“they want us soft,” he’d muttered under his breath, you had to read his lips from ten feet away to understand what he was saying.

inho's eyes flickered to the masked guards standing watch.

you’d nodded, your stomach twisting.

the guards’ generosity felt wrong, like the calm before a storm.

now, as you sit in the dark, you wonder if you should’ve warned the others.

what could you have said? they wouldn’t have listened.

they were too busy drowning their fear in soju.

your eyes grow heavy, the weight of the past days pressing down on you. you fight to keep them open, but they close involuntarily, your head dipping forward.

you’re still sitting up, your hands gripping the edge of the bed, but sleep is winning.

you don’t hear the soft thud of inho leaving the dorms with two guards, you don’t notice the glint of metal that he was gifted from the chairman himself upstairs for being such a 'favorited player'.

you don’t notice the way he stands, his movements silent and deliberate, his breath steady despite the weight of what he’s about to do.

the first muffed scream doesn’t wake you.

nor does the second.

the room erupts into chaos, but you’re lost in a haze of exhaustion.

your body is slumped against the wall, still sleeping.

inho moves like a shadow, the knife flashing in the dim light. one by one, the other players die as they've slept in their beds. some woke up, but were too drunk and tired to fight off the knife going into their necks.

five lives were cut in moments.

blood pools on the floor, seeping into the cracks, staining all of the bedsheets.

the air fills with the coppery scent of death, but you sleep through it all, unaware of the carnage unfolding around you.

when you wake up ten minutes later, the world around you is a blur.

your eyes are gritty, your head heavy, as if you’ve been drugged.

you blink, trying to clear your vision, and a golden haze fills your sight...the piggy bank above, its glow almost mocking.

you rub your eyes, your movements sluggish, and then you see it.

blood.

everywhere.

it’s splattered across the beds, dripping onto the floor, painting the walls in streaks of red. the bodies of the other players lie twisted and still, their faces frozen in expressions of shock, tiredness, and pain.

your breath catches, a gasp tearing from your throat as your heart lurches.

what?

this can’t be real.

it’s a nightmare, it has to be.

you were just awake, what the hell happened?

you pinch your arm, hard, but the scene doesn’t change.

your eyes dart across the room, landing on inho.

he’s leaning against the wall, his chest heaving, the knife still in his hand. blood stains his clothes, his face, his hands, but his eyes are steady, locked on you.

panic surges through you, and you scramble to your feet, backing away instinctively.

your hands tremble, your mind racing.

is he coming for you next?

you don’t know him, not really.

five days isn’t enough to trust someone with your life.

“stay back,” you choke out, your voice shaking.

your legs hit the edge of a bunk, and you nearly fall, your eyes never leaving him.

inho’s face softens, and he drops the knife. it clatters to the floor, the sound echoing in the silent room.

“I-i’m not going to hurt you,” he says, his voice rough.

he takes a step toward you, and you flinch, your body tensing.

he stops, raising his hands, palms open.

“I was able to do this for us. for you.”

you stare at him, your mind struggling to process his words.

“what… what are you talking about?” your voice is barely a whisper, your eyes flicking to the bodies, the blood, the knife.

“the next game,” he says, his breath still heavy, “they needed more than three players. now there’s only two of us. they can’t continue. we’ve won.”

you shake your head, your thoughts a jumbled mess.

“you… you killed all of them.” your voice breaks, and you press a hand to your mouth.

“i had to,” he says, his voice low but firm.

“it was the only way to get us out. to get you out.”

he takes another step, slower this time, and you don’t move.

into's eyes are intense, but there’s something else there.

something almost desperate.

“i couldn’t let them take you.”

you’re frozen, your heart pounding so hard it hurts. you want to scream, to run, to wake up from this nightmare, but you can’t.

your eyes flick to the knife again, now lying useless on the floor.

he threw it away.

he’s not holding it.

he’s not coming for you.

slowly, the realization sinks in.

he’s telling the truth.

he did this for you.

inho closes the distance between you, his movements careful, like he’s approaching a scared animal. you don’t back away this time, but your body is still tense, ready to bolt. he stops a foot away, his hands still raised.

“i’m not your enemy,” he says softly.

you don’t know what to say.

your mind is a storm of shock, and something else...something you can’t name. you look into his eyes, searching for a lie, but all you see is exhaustion and a strange, fierce protectiveness.

he’s not going to hurt you.

you know it now, deep in your bones.

inho steps closer, and before you can think, he pulls you into a hug. his arms are strong, steady, and you feel the warmth of his body against yours.

the blood from his victims stains your suit.

you don’t hug him back, not at first.

you stand there, your face pressed against his chest, his heartbeat loud in your ear.

you don’t cry.

you thought you would, but the tears don’t come.

it’s not sadness that fills you.

“we’re the last two,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your hair, “456 players, and now it’s just us.”

you nod against him, your throat too tight to speak. you don’t know how long you stand there, his arms around you, the silence of the dormitory pressing in.

the golden piggy bank watches from above, its glow casting long shadows over the carnage as it fills up with more money, making a strange animated sound.

you try not to look at the bodies, but you can’t unsee them.

the guards come eventually, their masks expressionless as they survey the scene. you and inho pull apart, and you brace yourself for punishment, for execution, for something.

they don’t touch you.

they don’t even speak.

one of them gestures for you and inho to follow, and you do, your legs unsteady.

inho walks beside you, his presence a strange comfort in the midst of the horror.

they lead you to a room you’ve never seen before, a sterile black space with a single table and three chairs, two of which being unoccupied.

a man in a suit sits there, his face hidden behind a golden blinged out mask with even more gold trim.

he doesn’t introduce himself, but his voice is calm, almost bored, as he explains that the games are over.

with only two players left, the final game cannot proceed.

little did you know, this was the man who gave inho the knife to win.

you and inho are the winners. the prize is billions of won, and will be split between you. you barely hear him, your mind still stuck on the blood, and inho’s tired eyes.

when it’s over, they let you go.

you walk out into the world, the money deposited into accounts you didn’t even know you had.

inho stays by your side, at first.

a year later, everything changes.

you don’t know how it happens, only that it does.

inho disappears for weeks, then months, and when you see him again, he’s not the man you knew.

you figure out that he got a job. a job as the frontman now, his face hidden behind a mask, his voice cold and commanding. you discovered it after you received a card again, asking you to meet at a location for a meeting.

you don’t recognize him at first, not until he looks at you with those same sharp eyes.

you’re different too.

inho offered you a role...a black masked guard, the guard who oversees all of the other guards.

you took it, not because you wanted to, but because the world outside felt too big.

in some way, the games changed your mind about humanity.

after everything you’d seen, the money didn’t fix you, and it didn’t erase the blood.

you stand in the shadows now, your mask heavy on your face. every year you watch new players run through the same games that nearly broke you.

you don’t think about being a player anymore.

you don’t think about inho, or the knife, or the dormitory stained red.

you tell yourself you’ve forgotten.

deep down, you know you haven’t.

you’re still there, sitting up in that bed, sleeping through the carnage.

masterlist

author's note: I don't write for inho much, but I loved writing this one.

280 notes · View notes

fyodior · 9 months ago

Text

⌕ pairing: dad alpha!toji fushiguro x daughter omega!reader

⌕ warnings: BLOODCEST, reader goes into heat, piv sex, use of dad/daddy/papa, kind of subspace-ish but just bc of heat, knotting, toji is guilty as hell, a/b/o stuff like pheromones/scent/slick, toji is a dominant alpha, crying. dead dove do not eat! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

⌕ word count: 2.7k

MORE A/B/O-TOBER HERE!

This was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime. You and your beloved father had planned this vacation months ago, with the hopes of finally having a full two weeks of father-daughter alone time you two had so desperately been craving recently. Between both of your demanding jobs, respective social lives, and other various responsibilities, you barely even got to see each other anymore, outside of when you both came home at night. It had been a rule that you were to eat dinner together every night, and you had upheld that for a long time, but it had gotten to the point where it was no longer feasible.

So, the solution to missing each other? A two weeklong trip to the beach town of your dreams, at an all-inclusive resort that your wonderful dad had spent months saving every last cent to pay for. He had said it wasn’t right to force his beautiful daughter to pay even a single dime for this trip. It was his gift to you. Your gift to him? Just your presence and love.

To be quite honest, you and your dad had a… less than conventional relationship. Your friends found it odd that you still lived with him even though you were plenty financially stable enough to go out into the world on your own, and would surely have much more freedom in doing so. But you just couldn’t leave your beloved dad. Not when he loved you the way he did, cherished you and pampered and spoiled you at every turn. Who in their right mind would ever give that up? Certainly not you. You made it a point to never mention to others that you still slept in his bed every night, put to sleep by his strong arms wrapped tightly around you as you breathed in each other’s familiar scents.

When planning the vacation, you had made sure to schedule it in a timeframe where you would not be in your heat. They had always been fairly regular, so you had just done the math and planned it for when you’d be in the clear. Toji was more than happy to do so, as he wanted you to enjoy this trip completely uninhibited, especially from something so debilitating as a heat. Toji himself wasn’t too worried – in his older age, his ruts had slowed down pretty significantly, and even then, they weren’t ever severe enough to truly hinder his day-to-day life too much.

To say the vacation was much needed would be a vast understatement. The stress of busy lives had melted off both of your shoulders as you basked in the sun on white sand beaches, calmed by the sound of the waves lapping against the shore and sipping fruity cocktails served in coconuts. At night you’d go out dancing, grinding against each other in a drunken haze amongst people who didn’t know your familial relations. Sure, the age difference was apparent, but they didn’t know Toji was your dad. It was so freeing. And if he had kissed you soft and sweet on the dance floor? That secret would go with you to your graves.

Of course, with your luck, the magic couldn’t last forever. In the afternoon of the fifth day, you had started to feel… odd. Twitchy. A little foggy. Your skin felt hotter than normal, but you chalked it up to too much time in the tropical sun. The strange tingling between your legs was just because of… something. Whatever. Nothing was to ruin the vacation of your dreams, so you’ll ignore, ignore, ignore. No need to pay attention to such silly things.

Until it got worse. You had uncharacteristically asked Toji not to cuddle you to sleep that night, which he found profoundly odd, but your skin felt like it was on fire. The thought of anyone else touching you, even your dad, sounded like hell.

And then… even worse. In the wee hours of the night, you woke up gasping and whining. You felt hot all over, a sheen of sweat coating your body. Everything ached, your head felt fuzzy and sharp at the same time, and you could barely breathe. The worst, though? You were so painfully horny, your cunt throbbing and leaking, it was pure misery. There was no denying it anymore – you were in heat. Immediately, you began to panic. This was not supposed to happen.

The only thing you could think to do in your haze was shake the man next to you awake.

“Dad, daddy, please wake up,” you whined, shaking him by his arm.

“Wha- what it is it, sweetheart? Everything okay?” Toji mumbled gruffly, eyes still closed and clearly still mostly asleep.

“I’m in heat.”You could barely get the words out, speaking suddenly feeling impossible.

That woke him up quickly, lurching up. What? W-what do you mean?”

“Heat,” you repeated. “I-I’m in heat,” you damn near cried.

The heat pooling between your legs was getting more unbearable by the second, groaning as you cupped your hand over your throbbing pussy.

“Why? How? We-we planned around it!” he stuttered, staring at you with wide eyes. It was unmistakable, the presentation – despite never seeing you in one for long, he had witnessed the beginning phase of it multiple times.

What really tipped him off, though was your scent. The whole suite reeked of your sickly-sweet scent, pheromones emanating off your shivering body in droves. To say Toji wasn’t affected by it would be a lie. In fact, he scooted back in the bed to try and escape the potent yet divine odor, but there truly was no escape.

Toji wants to panic, unsure of what to do in this shocking moment, but it’s clear you’d beaten him to it. Hyperventilating and scratching at your skin, the panic of an incident so interruptive really settling in. He had to comfort you, and fast.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, calm down,” he attempts, gathering you in a tight hug to try and soothe you. “It’s okay, I promise. Daddy’s here.” That was the problem. Only daddy was here – no heat partner in sight. While you had no real partner, you had a few alpha friends who didn’t mind helping you out during your heats to ease the pain. Of course, those same friends were a plane ride away, and it’s not like you could ask the alpha next door if they could knot you.

As his eyes trailed down your body, he gulped when he saw the crotch of your sleep shorts was soaked in slick. Fuck.

Fat crocodile tears ran down your burning cheeks as you sobbed in his arms, and all Toji could do was hug you close and rock you side to side. With you so close to him, he had no choice but to inhale your bleeding scent, and he wishes he could rip his nose off. This is not good.

Resigning himself to the situation at hand, Toji sighed. There’s only one way out of this – unless he just locked you in the suite to suffer through your miserable heat alone.

“Calm down, baby, daddy’s gonna help you, okay? Daddy will help you.”

“R-really?” you sniffled, pulling back to look your dad in the eyes, gauging his sincerity.

“Of course, baby. Daddy’s gonna make you feel all better, okay? No need to worry anymore.”

Saying that Toji had never had thoughts like these about you before would be far, far, from the truth. In fact, he’d lost count of the times he’d jerked off in the shower to the thought of burying his cock so deep inside you, you couldn’t breathe, but he always watched the cum swirl down the drain in shame. And you, the same. Your fingers never felt as good as you’d imagined Toji’s would. Even though you were closer than the average father-daughter duo, the two of you had never crossed that line. At least, not yet.

But now, your brain was so addled by this primal state that the implications of what your father was promising you meant nothing. All you could think about was relief.

Toji gulped. There’s no going back now.

“Lay on your back, baby.”

You quickly do as your told, movements far from graceful as you fell from his arms and stumbled back on the bed. Maybe he could just get away with a quick fingering – maybe that would put you back to sleep for now.

Slithering a hand down your sleep shorts, Toji shivered when he felt how soaking wet you were. Pressing the tip of his ring finger just at the rim of your hole had you whimpering, head falling back against the pillow and gripping his arm tight.

“More, please,” you groaned, eyes screwed shut.

“Okay, sweetheart.”

His ring finger slipped into your hole with shocking ease, absolutely no resistance. Clearly your body was well beyond desperate. The gasp and groan you let out was one of pure desperation and distress. The thick finger inside you surely felt nice, but it was still only one – you needed much more.

“More, more,” you whined, gripping his wrist and attempting to force him further inside you.

Toji’s heart pounded in his chest, dread filling his entire body and chilling his blood as the realization that his fingers would almost certainly not be enough. Even worse, the lethal combination of your scent, slick, and whines sent blood rushing south. Fuck.

A second finger dipped inside you, and he began slowly pumping them in and out of your hole, scissoring his fingers apart in a hopeless attempt filling you up enough to beget enough relief. It was simply futile.

Whines and whimpers filled the suite as you bore down on his fingers, taking it into your own hands to push him further inside you. The arousal churning through your veins was intolerable and it just wasn’t enough.

Throwing your arms around his neck, you yanked him towards you, making him stumble and almost collapse on top of you. Hot, frantic breaths fanned across his face as you pressed your forehead against his, involuntary guttural groans escaping your throat.

“Dad, please,” you begged. “P-put it in.”

His heart stopped, blood running cold at your desperate request. Once you crossed that line, you could never go back. Hearing your pained moans though, was addling Toji’s judgement.

“Honey, I…” he started, fingers still pumping in and out of you in hopes of keeping you slightly satiated. “I don’t know…”

Toji fought hard to maintain his composure, but the fact of the matter was, he was still an alpha - and a dominant one at that. Though middle age had relieved him of some of the more undesirable, undeniable traits of such a label, he was only human. One could only fight biology and primal instinct for so long.

“Fuck it.”

Pulling away his fingers despite your protests, he roughly yanked off your shorts and panties, flinging them off the side of the bed before throwing your legs over his shoulders. Tugging his boxers down just enough to pull out his aching cock, wasting no time at all as he forcefully thrusts into you, bottoming out immediately. Your cries were almost certainly loud enough to be heard outside your room, but neither of you could give less of a fuck.

Guttural groans tumbled out of Toji’s mouth as he basks in the feeling of your tight, wet heat clenching hard around his length, thrashing underneath him. Despite his considerable endowment, you had not a single complaint, your pussy clearly frantic to be filled.

“Daddy!” you cried out, throwing your arms around his neck and panting deeply, chest heaving.

“It’s okay sweetheart,” Toji assured, resting his forehead against yours. “Dad’s got you. It’ll be okay.”

It’s not long before he’s building up a considerable rhythm, fucking you hard and deep as you keened underneath him with a constant stream of whimpers and cries. The wet, sticky sound of skin on skin was sweet music to Toji’s ears, encouraging him to pick up the pace – something you were more than happy about.

The primal alpha instincts in him had him digging his nose deep into your neck just over your scent gland, huffing your potent scent like the sweetest drug, soaking up your pheromones that emanated from you. He wasn’t even aware of the way his own pheromones had mixed with yours, the musky odor clouding your senses. It was like you were made just for him, and he just for you. Your pheromones swirled together and encased the both of you in a blissful bubble of primitive desire and ecstasy.

The sex was messy, sloppy, and uncoordinated, having lost any sort of real rhythm in favor of frantically rutting into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass with every desperate thrust. A tiny voice in the back of Toji’s head, what was left of his rational mind, wondered if maybe your heat had catapulted him into rut, but that was no concern to him in the moment.

All you needed, all he wanted was to satiate your burning desire and arousal, to curb your instinctual need to fuck and be fucked, if only for a little bit.

Wanting to feel you deeper, Toji leaned forward to press your knees to your shoulders, allowing him to bury himself deep in your pussy, his tip kissing your cervix. So caught up in the ecstasy, a familiar yet bygone word escaped your lips.

“Papa!” you exclaimed, throwing your head back and gasping.

Papa. A term you had given up well over a decade ago, indicative of how far gone you were. How you had reverted to nothing but pure instinct, recognizing the man fucking you as what he once, and always would be, to you.

Toji almost came right on the spot. A strangled moan came from his throat, his arousal increasing tenfold.

“Say it again,” he demanded, voice deep and gruff.

There was no need to tell you twice. “Papa! Papa! Papa!” you chanted like a perverted spell, entirely unaware of what you were saying, much less the implications.

And Toji does something he swore he wouldn’t do – without halting his movements, he cupped your cheek and crashed his lips against yours. It was messy, all teeth and tongue and spit, but he could no longer keep himself from kissing his sweet, sweet daughter.

“Papa’s got you, baby,” Toji mutters against your lips, punctuating his words with hard thrusts. “Papa’s gonna make you feel so much better.”

The overstimulation of pheromones, messy kisses, and the hardest fuck you’ve ever had, had you hurtling closer and closer to what you so badly needed.

“Gonna come,” you whined, gripping his cheeks and pulling him in for a sloppy kiss.

That had Toji’s heart racing even faster, scared he’d go into cardiac arrest at this point.

“Come for me, baby,” he encourages, kissing you back. “Come for Papa.”

Your next words yet again brutally took him by surprise.

“Knot me, daddy, please.”

Fuck. How is he supposed to deny that?

As your own orgasm crashed over you like a suffocating wave, screams and moans piercing Toji’s ears, he continued to fuck into your oversensitive pussy deeper and deeper until he began to feel the familiar swelling at the base of his cock. And soon enough, he’s damn near howling as he spills hot, sticky cum into your welcoming cunt, balls spasming as they empty themselves inside you. Neither of you were in the right mind to reckon with the potential consequences of that.

Toji’s thick knot had swelled to full size, stretching to a point that had you whimpering, hugging your dad close.

“Hurts Papa, it hurts,” you whined, tears gathering in your glossy eyes.

Toji quickly kisses the tears away, cradling you as best he could. “I know, sweetheart, I know. It’ll go down soon, okay? And we can get some rest, you and me.”

The alpha was far from prepared for how many more of his knots were in your future.

#toji smut #jjk smut #toji x reader #toji x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fic #toji fic #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut

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sheepispink · 9 months ago

Text

The Perfect Pair

Masterlist AO3

WC: 7.6k Tags: fluff, marriage of convenience, leon kennedy/ reader

Summary: Leon can barely hold himself upright most days and you've finally decided to ditch the DSO life in pursuit of happiness. However, that'd mean leaving all those beautiful tax benefits and medical insurance behind. Turns out Leon and Chris are pretty persuasive, landing you as Leon's 'wife' but you cant help but start to feel something more, unaware that Leon's already set his eyes on you for life.

It’d been a long day at work, the usual really— Chris had roped him into dealing with another bioweapon appearance, thus leading him to take a helicopter to some trashy place, locating the bioweapon, and promptly knocking its freaky nature out of action. Now he lugged his weary feet home to the apartment you shared, his stomach craving a taste of something only your skilled hands would prepare for him. After a short elevator trip that thankfully alleviated the ache of his feet for a moment, he reached the front door and, with a quick fumble with the keys he had inserted the right one inside, opening the door.

“I’m home.” He calls out, his raspy voice filling the silent yet serene space before him. He somehow grew used to this; the sight of two sets of keys on the hook, the vast difference in style as he places his shoes on the rack, and the two coats on the bannister, one far smaller than the other. “Smells good..” He mumbles beneath his breath, making his way towards the kitchen where you stand, back facing him as you work your hands through a ball of minced meat.

“Welcome home.” You turn to meet his hungry gaze with your typical warm smile, heart warming at the exhausted look on his face and even more so that he’d soon find relief in the food you had made.

“You’re lucky, we had just enough mince meat in the freezer for your favourite beef burgers.” That was a lie. You had woken up early this morning and decided he had looked far too tired recently, and it’d been far too long since he’d had his favourite meal. So, as any good wife does, you wanted to make him feel better and took to the nearest supermarket, picking up all the ingredients you needed and some for a tasty dessert too. He always denied that he enjoyed sweet treats, but he would always be the first to finish them, whether it was a sweet chocolate mousse or a tasty doughnut you picked up on the way home.

He chuckles, his hand disappearing into his work jacket as he slips off the leather and lays it on the back of a wooden chair. It then migrates to his collar, tugging on it to alleviate the heat through his body, which is proven by the thin layer of sweat covering his limbs.

“Oh? Thanks, I was sure you finished it last week when you gave Kitty a gourmet meal for once.”

This home wouldn’t be complete without its resident cat, a Siamese fur ball that Leon graciously named ‘Kitty’ though he has no doubt referred to it with a million different names anyway.

“I guess I must've missed a bit. I really treated her for nothing.” While he was smirking, your mind was far from the lightheartedness of this conversation, currently panicking over his words. He had seriously caught you out there; of course you finished the mince, last week but was he actually accusing you of lying or worse—did he know? As you let out an awkward chuckle, he speaks up again, undoing his belt with one hand as his other grabs a glass from the shelf to fill with water. “I’m not complaining though; they really are my favourites for a reason.” He drinks down the glass of water in one swig, letting out a satisfied breath before rolling his shoulders back. “I’m gonna take a quick shower—I don't want to drown your nose with my sweat.” He chuckles again, finally leaving you alone in the kitchen again as he takes his path up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

To say your relationship with him was complicated was a massive understatement; it was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, feelings that felt illicit, and signals that were impossible to decipher. Well, for you it felt like this—you’re not so sure about him. In fact, for someone who sleeps beside him nearly everyday, cooks him meals, eats dinner with him, and even drops off his lunch, you barely knew anything about the man.

This all began when you decided to quit the DSO, finally having enough money to move to a more peaceful job with flexible hours and still end up supporting yourself. You had only worked in communications at the DSO, but that was still a pain in itself. Before you left, they had an informal work dinner. A bunch of agents and other workers came along to a diner for some food before heading to mess around at a karaoke place before the weekend hit. With so many people around, it grew far too hot too quickly, and you soon wandered the halls seeking a breath of fresh air before you heard your name called by an agent. The voice belonged to Chris Redfield–your superior—who was beckoning you to come over, cigarette in hand, to where he stood with Leon right beside him. They were both your superiors in the work field but were perceived as far more important due to the missions they accomplished and lives they saved.

“Yes..?”

You were more confused than scared or anything of the like—why did they even want to talk to you? It’s not like you often saw them. Even so, you walked over to them, trying to reduce the awkwardness when you slipped your hands into the pockets of your jacket, tilting your head slightly.

“You’re gonna leave soon, right?” Leon asks, taking a swig of the golden whisky in his glass whilst Chris blows another puff of smoke off to the side.

“Yeah, I wanted to move onto a different job, a quieter one that isn't so taxing.” You shrug, having only thought out a bit of it so far.

Chris and Leon shared a glance at each other before Leon spoke once more, rolling back his shoulders a little. “You see, I have a bit of a predicament, and Chris thought you could help.”

Before you know it, he’s explaining how busy his work is and that he barely gets home in time for a sip of water before he knocks out, and you’re not really sure how this is your problem until Chris butts in.

“So basically, he needs a wife. You, on the other hand, won't have any of the perks of the DSO since you’re leaving, which includes medical insurance, tax benefits..” He trailed off as you started to ponder it, you really would lose a lot of the things you had grown to exist around. It would be very difficult to manage, and you can't say you’d miss a lot of those perks greatly. The two men give each other a glance as you speak up, nodding along. “You’re right, I will miss out a lot, but I really don't want to stay here longer..” Before Leon can even try and slide it in, Chris has already blurted it out.

“Well, you won't lose anything if you marry him.”

So, after a bunch of awkward talks and surviving interrogations from your coworkers, you ended up with a small wedding, which was mainly done to please your own parents rather than yourselves. Now you’re here, almost a year into this non formal contractual marriage, and your feelings are muddled. Very muddled. It’s hard to not catch feelings when you’re somewhat of a hopeless romantic yourself, or maybe the teenage girl mentality came back full force now you have a lot more free time. You owed him a fair amount to be fair—he didn’t realise how stress-free your life was these days. Wake up, eat a healthy breakfast, maybe watch some television too, head down to the small little bakery you own and teach the part time teenager there before wrapping up at four o'clock and heading home again. Your skin had cleared up, you were actually able to sleep in on the weekends and actually do whatever you want— pick up new hobbies, eat proper meals, and read books to your heart's content.

What you’ve concluded is that your life has drastically improved and you are more relaxed than you’ve ever been. The problem with that is that with the new addition of all this free time and air to breathe in, you’re able to actually think about the man you’ve married. In simpler terms that you tried to deny for a year now, you’ve caught feelings—a lot of feelings for him. That’s why you’re currently stuck in a conundrum; you’re technically allowed to pursue said feelings, as you’re married and no longer ‘colleagues’ needing to act professionally, but does he want the same?

The pan starts to sizzle, snapping you out of your daydreaming as you place the flattened patty into the oil, lightly frying each side. Being his wife meant looking after him as much as he did to you, so cooking was often your chore to handle. Even though you were more than happy to do most of the chores, he’d still help with the dishes after dinner and often cooked when he could—when he was exhausted from another mission. Plus, he did his own laundry. He would’ve done yours too, though after the first time he tried, your cheeks had flushed immediately when he handed you a pile of your freshly washed underwear and t-shirts, and you quickly told him you’d do your own.

The staircase groans as he steps down the stairs, his movements a lot slower now that he had let the tension ease from his muscles in the shower. So far, you’ve managed to cook four patties, which was more than enough to satisfy his stomach and yours. But you had an extra two for his lunch tomorrow and because he tended to have a third burger “just because it’d be a shame to let it go to waste.That’s when you hear him curse softly under his breath, turning back to glance at him in confusion. “What’s wrong?” His hair is damp, still dripping with water onto the white tee he wears. It’s loose and the one you bought him last month when you went on a shopping spree. You try to ignore the way your eyes naturally drift towards his chest; a small sliver of his pale skin peeks out where his hand disappears under his shirt, rubbing his abdomen in a strange way. “Did you get hurt?” You continue, turning down the heat on the hob so you can turn to face him better.

“Oh? This?”

He lifts the shirt a little, revealing the bruise on his right side of his stomach, and also gives you a perfect view of his toned abs. Damn. “It’s not as bad as it looks..” He mumbles, but his eyebrows are still knitted in a frowning gesture. “I’m annoyed because I missed an opportunity..”

That makes you blink, wondering what he could’ve missed in the time he went for his shower and came back here. Did he get a phone call? Or perhaps something happened this week you hadn't picked up on?

“An opportunity?”

“Yeah. I completely missed the chance to ask you, ‘What's cookin, Good Lookin?’. Damnit..”

Did the corniest line to ever exist really just make your chest tighten for a second?

You can’t deny the fact that the line itself had made your lips part as you stood there dumbfounded. Leon had a history with corny one-liners; in fact, whenever his colleagues happened to see you, they’d always mention whatever stupid thing he said during a mission. He’d say it to you occasionally too, usually random puns that he’d quietly snicker about, but he’d never quite openly flirt with you like that. Was it supposed to be a joke? Was it real? You couldn't tell, and so you quickly turned back around before your patties ended up burnt.

“O-of course only you would worry more about that than your own injuries.” His snickering is obvious behind you as you place the cooked patties onto a small plate. “Stop pestering me and go sit down at the table.” You feign annoyance, grumbling as you hide the furious flush of pink upon your cheeks. Unfortunately for you, he didn’t intend to give up that easily, walking up behind you and peering over your shoulder with his hands planted on the counter on either side of your waist.

“That was a good one, c’mon.” He argues, the most exaggerated pout on his face quickly disappearing when he watches the burgers sizzle in the pan. He loves your food so damn much.

“That was not a good one, shoo.”

Thankfully, he ends up leaving you alone in favour of Kitty, who had just woken up from her nap— eager to play with him even if it just means chasing after a wrapper he had thrown across the room. You place down two plates at the table, as per usual, along with a plate full of salad, a bowl of fresh chips you fried, and the small plate of patties— six to be exact. Then, you place down the two fancy glasses you bought last week and grab your usual favourite canned drink while grabbing a Coke Zero for him. Finally, you place Kitty’s dinner on the floor which she runs over for, immediately gobbling up the food. “She’s just like you.” You giggle, watching as she hungrily wolfs down the food, thus making him groan in return. “I do not eat like that.”

Dinner is the same. You’ll ask about his day in which he usually retorts in grunts and moans about the government, incompetent workers, and that woman.. Ada. Just the mention of her name used to make him go quiet back when you worked at the DSO, and even in the first few months of your “marriage”, he would shrug off the subject quickly. Now he talks about it here and there, mentioning how she suddenly appears and always seems to know his location. For some reason, it puts a sick feeling in your stomach, like someone is dragging their nails across the flesh of your insides.

“Ada.. was there. Ever since I saved the president’s daughter, it’s like she’s followed me everywhere. She helps me.. but then she claims to not care..?”

His words stopped registering in your mind after a while as your teeth grit against each other and you absentmindedly dipped your chip into ketchup over and over again. You can’t believe he could be so naive. She had played him once in Raccoon City, faking her identity and using him to her advantage. The same played out in Spain even if she ‘saved’ him. You didn't care about her damn motives; she worked for the enemy, and it irked you—she just used whatever she could to gain her benefit, and it seemed like no one could stop her.

“Earth to my beautiful wife, hello?” He waved his hand in front of your furrowed eyebrows and the obvious scowl upon your face. “You look like you just ate something you find disgusting. I thought you liked this too.”

You immediately realise you had zoned out, your face shifting to something sheepish before you finally stick the ketchup-soaked chip into your mouth. You didn't even get a chance to process what he just called you.

“No, it’s not the food; I was just thinking. Sorry, it’s nothing.”

That only serves to make him all the more curious, though he doesn't push it, instead continuing his story. “Where was I? Oh, right, then Ada shot—” He cuts himself off as your eyes immediately narrow, and you lower your head, picking with your food again subconsciously. It doesn’t take much to piece the clues together, his lips twitching upwards as a smile threatens to spread. Though he wants to test his suspicions one more time.

“Wanna hear something crazy? Ada tried to kiss me again.”

“What?!” You immediately sit up straight, the scowl returning just as fast and teeth grit, but it quickly softens when you see the smirk on his face.

“I knew it. You hate her, don’t you?” Leon always saw right through you, thankfully not with your growing feelings yet, and it made it all the harder to keep his marriage… Well, just as a contract.

“Fine, maybe I don’t like her. So what? She’s not exactly the most moral person.” You say, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly as you take a bite out of your burger and chew it down. “She helps Umbrella, can you really blame me?” That only makes his lips twitch again, and he leans his elbows on the table, eyes trained on every feature of your face.

“Are you jealous of her?” That almost makes you choke on the burger, and you have to take a large gulp of your drink to swallow down the rest of the food, your face immediately pinkening. It can’t be possible—there’s no way you’re jealous of that cunning, manipulative, hot, extremely hot woman. How did she even look that good?

“Ha— she should be jealous of me.” You scoff boldly, finishing the last of your burger soon after.

“Oh, and why’s that? Because you’re the one wedded to me?

A moment earlier, your heart would’ve described his face as a perfectly carved sculpture, the ones that people bid thousands to place in their homes because not showing off such a perfect creation would be a crime. Right now, he wore a sly grin with his eyebrows raised as he eyed you suggestively.

And that look was very punchable.

“Because I'm living the dream. I’ve got a bakery, a ton of free time, and I guess you’re there too, I suppose.”

With a roll of your eyes, you dismiss his words quickly, even though the faintest blush on your cheeks betrays your true thoughts. What if you said yes? What happens then?

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t give me that satisfaction.” He feigns a pout before his grin returns as he takes a massive bite into his second burger of the night. Of course, he just has to make an exaggerated moan, one elbow leaning on the table as the other covers his face dramatically.

“This is heavenly, you know? One day I swear I'll start dreaming about these burgers.”

There he goes again, babbling on about Lord knows what and his corny lines again. You can't help but flash a small cheeky smile, winking as you pour yourself a glass of water from the pitcher.

“Another reason for her to be jealous of me.”

Once the dinner has been packed away by his speedy hands, he’s returned to make the couch his home again, stretching his whole body against the length of it like a cat would. You’re placing the dishes into your dishwasher before inserting a tablet and putting it on for three hours. As you walk over to wipe down the table, you notice his eyes have fluttered close as he groans and gets comfortable on the cushions. You can't say you didn't feel a tinge of affection—well, much more than that, like a heap almost—every time he crashed out like this, completely exhausted from a mission. “Weekend tomorrow..” You remind him with a gentle hum, swiftly removing any stray stains off the table. “Don’t you want to have a good sleep, y'know, in bed?”

He lets out a muffled grumble in response, burying his face into the cushions before he reluctantly sits up, making you smile a little more—you’d scold him regularly about lying down after eating. “What movie d’ya wanna watch?” He says even if he would usually wander his way to the bedroom after you said that. It’s been at least a month since you had been together like this to watch a movie. A lot had changed in that month, specifically your growing feelings for him. Perhaps distance really does bring fondness, you think.

“I don’t mind; you like action, no?” You finish wiping down the dirt from dinner to glance over whatever he’s doing on the television, only to find him flicking through your favourite genre of movies. Shoving down the warmth on your cheeks is near impossible as you speed walk back to the kitchen. Were these signs? Were you reading too much into it? Your teeth graze against each other nervously as you look up to see him waiting expectantly on the couch for you to join him. What the hell is happening right now? He had always gone to bed immediately or scrolled through his phone for a while— so what’s with the sudden change?

Moments later you’re sitting beside him on the couch, knees tucked to your chest as he presses play on the movie he picked—the one you had mentioned you wanted to watch when it first got announced that it was in production. Despite your excitement, you could hardly concentrate on the movie when he was practically centimetres from you. He was leaning back against the cushions, one arm resting around the back of the couch where you sat and the other comfortably against the armrest. If you had just moved your head back slightly, you would brush against his arm. If you did that, would he wrap it around your shoulders? Just the thought makes you shudder a little, your chin moving forward to sit comfortably on your knees. It was like you were a teenage girl again, sitting in the movies with your crush while you wondered if he thought of you as a friend or something more. You couldn't even believe you were acting like this—hell the two of you were married legally, not to mention you were both grown adults! Who cares if he had just stretched out his arms, his shirt riding up, and you could see the scars on his stomach? Your breath hitching when he had shuffled up to you was completely unnecessary; the warmth radiating off of him was irrelevant, no matter if the characters were kissing on the screen right now. You practically jump when he pokes your shoulder with his hand, your head snapping to him instantly, and you can barely even form a noise when you see how close his face is to yours. His eyes had to be one of your favourite things about him, or was it the messy mop of dirty blond hair on his head? It could even be the sharpness of his jawline, the lines of wear beneath his eyes, how perfectly his nose seemed to be carved, or perhaps, crazily enough, the way his voice rang out in your ears in the mornings.

“Do we have any dessert? I’m craving something sweet.”

Every step back into the kitchen is like torture from how hot your cheeks are, the cold fridge air doing nothing to soothe the embarrassment as you grab the microwave puddings you had bought today. You can't believe you had been so flustered by the proximity that all that had escaped you was a strangled noise before you just hurriedly nodded and escaped to the kitchen. Those five seconds between the poke and his words felt like a millennia— an incredibly romantically tense millennia— where for those whole five seconds, you stupidly thought he’d kiss you right then and there. You fan yourself as if that’ll soothe the metaphoric rush of warmth in your face right now, incredibly embarrassed by your own thoughts and desires. When you sit back down again, you quickly hand him the hot pudding and sit further away from him this time. If you even felt that again, you felt like you’d simply explode altogether.

Unbeknownst to you, he was now wondering if you were annoyed that he had interrupted, and he frowned as he glanced down at the plate with just a singular spoon. Weren’t you going to eat too? Not to mention, you were all stiff and sitting further from him than before—now you’re really twisting the knife in his heart. First he had agitated you by teasing you about Ada, then he laid on the couch right after dinner like you always told him not to do, and now you even refused to eat dessert! Maybe he isn't putting enough effort into all of this as he originally thought. After all, you did a lot to run a bakery in town and still cook, clean, and look after his cat. So, he decides to take a shot and scoops up a particularly chocolatey part of the pudding, the part he always eats first, and holds the spoon up to your lips.

“I know you’re mad, but you can't deny this.” He plasters his typical boyish grin, nudging your lips with the metal of the spoon. But he’s caught off guard when you pull back in surprise, waving your hands around frantically in denial. “H-huh? I ate a lot of sweet things today already—”

“Shut up. Don’t you dare even say you’re on a diet either; you’re perfect already.”

He pushes the spoon against your lips which you accidentally part in surprise at his words, the warm chocolate filling your mouth immediately like an instant boost of serotonin.

“See, it's good, told ya.” He says smugly as you swallow down the tasty pudding and sauce. That’s only for a moment before he notices the smudge of chocolate around your lips from his struggle, casually wiping away the crumbs with his thumb before licking it.

He had just wiped the crumbs.

He wiped it from your lips.

He wiped it and then licked it off his hand.

He didn't even think twice.

“I-its not bad-” That was all you could mutter out before he committed the crime, and now you were left dumbstruck as you watched him casually lick his thumb and then take another spoon of the dessert—the same spoon you just ate from. He leans back against the couch again, about to shove another in your mouth once he gets comfortable enough, though he quickly realises that you still haven’t spoken since. “You can’t still be mad; I’ll shove another one in your mouth, you know—” At that, you know you’re sure to blurt out the truth, and you scramble up, about to make an excuse about needing a glass of water, before your wrist is caught in his hand, and you’re promptly pulled back against the couch again.

“Hm? Where are you going, pink cheeks?”

He says it teasingly, instantly making you flush all the more. You couldn’t understand how anyone could even be so casual about these things, not that you had little experience in the area, but seriously— he had literally just licked the chocolate on your face. That was an indirect kiss!

“Do you do this with all your friends?” The frown on your face is suddenly a little harsher, accusing, and suddenly there's a hint of betrayal. That only serves to confuse him more, you’ve been acting off for a while now, had he cheated in his sleep or something? “What? You’re not my friend, though? That's not comparable.”

He doesn't even see you as a friend? You can't help the way your heart drops in a way you’ve never felt before in your life; it almost hurts the way he can just so easily dismiss you after all the time you’ve spent together—contractual or not. “I- I see how it is..”

“See how what is? You’re not making much sense.” His eyes narrow as you suddenly turn your head away from him, arms crossing firmly on your chest, but what doesn’t escape him is the sudden daze in your eyes. Gently, his hand grabs your chin, squashing your cheeks as he forces you to face him, and his mind instantly clicks all the pieces together.

“.. (Name).” He says firmly, making you let out a small hum in acknowledgement, unaware of the way your eyes are suddenly a lot wetter than they had been before.

“What did you drink earlier?”

“What? All I drank was water, mostly.”

“What about when I told you about Ada, was that water?” Your eyebrows furrow as you hear him repeat her name again, immediately growing more frustrated. “What about her now?”

He lets out a heavy sigh, wrapping a firm arm around your shoulders before he forces you to settle against the couch against him. “You drank some of my drink, didn't you? You were way too annoyed to even notice the whiskey I mixed in.”

The thought immediately clicks into your head; everything is suddenly a lot clearer now, even though you still weren't quite sober yet. Plus, you were pretty much a lightweight when it came to his strong stuff. It perfectly explained the warmth spreading through your chest, the uncoordinated actions, and the way nothing seemed to follow the way your head wanted it to. “S-still, you said I’m not even your friend.” Gently, his thumb rubs the tears that have formed in your eyes and tucks you close into him with his arm snugly around you. Just in case you decide to face plant off the couch as you seemed to want to do before. “You’re not my friend; you’re my wife. Who else would I treat like that?”

“I’m not your real wife though.” You slowly look up at him, turning your head, so your glossy eyes can stare up into his, searching for the right answer— the truth.

“Those papers seem pretty real to me. The way I feel is also pretty real to me.”

He grins at you like he hadn't doubted that fact for a second, and he hadn't, not since you both had signed and received the certificate, one he sometimes sneaks a small fond peek at whilst you’re sleeping. Not that he’d tell you, at least not yet.

“But— I’m not your wife; that’s my title, but I don't act like that.”

“So? I still love you as anyone would with their wife; do you really think I wouldn't fall for you? You’re even more perfect than I imagined.”

You’re momentarily stunned into silence, not quite expecting that but still not believing it quickly, your tipsy mind making you say things that you never would before.

“That's because I do everything for you— not that I mind b-but, I just act like a good partner. You don't feel romantically for me.” You huff, your teeth gritting together as you pettily narrow your eyes at him. What you hadn't considered is that he’d tuck your hair behind your ears, carefully pull you into his lap, and take one of your hands in his. He fondles your hand beneath his, his thumb rubbing gently over the skin before he brings it up to rest on his cheek, smiling fondly at you.

“I’ve been busy, I know. It’s quite hard having an agent as a partner, no? I already regret all the love I've lacked to give you.” This time, you’re positive that your cheeks are reacting to him, breath hiccuping when he turns his face in your grasp. His lips press a kiss to the palm of your hand before intertwining that hand with his and holding it against his heart.

“You just had to go get tipsy, didn't you?” The warmth of his hand on yours as he squeezes it gently is like a drug, one that squeezes your heart at the same rhythm whilst his teasing voice dances in the air around the two of you.

“Not my fault you always have to have a glass with dinner..” You grumble, not happy with how fast he had proven you wrong even if he had just confessed to his deepest feelings. He finds it quite endearing how stubborn a little bit of alcohol can make you. ”Alright, we can blame me for this one. How about you finish this pudding with me, and we can get you settled in bed, how does that sound?”

Before you know it, he’s wiping chocolate stains from your lips again as you sniffle in his lap, mumbling some nonsense about your so-called lack of lovelife while the movie plays in the background. He enjoys all your little comments about the movie, even when you subconsciously glance back at him when the couple starring do something romantic. Taking you up to bed is easy enough considering you’re only just bordering tipsy at the moment and you hardly weigh anything compared to the things he usually deals with. Your head just lolls lazily as he helps you upstairs, your eyes slowly blinking up at him when he sits you on the edge of the bed. “What pajamas do you want, pretty girl? How about your favourite?” The water he helped you drink before had sobered you up a little so you’re starting to feel better already. However, your mind is still a little hazy so you just nod along, not minding if this is the first time he undresses you.

Making sure to be gentle with you, he strips you down to your underwear before helping you pull on your warm sweatshirt and plaid pants. His lips twitched upwards when your own fingers tried to beat him with dressing yourself, finding it adorable how you still insisted on doing everything yourself. He could just put you to bed, but after watching for countless nights how you slave away at your skincare routine and keeping your teeth brushed well— he’d feel awful if he broke that. Before you know it, you’re sitting on the sink as he gently holds your jaw, his other hand using the electric toothbrush to clean your teeth. You’re a little uncooperative, swerving your head away at first until you just settle into a sleepy calm and he handles you with no problems. In no time he has you back on his lap, sitting at your small vanity as he carefully attempts to remember the order of your night time routine. What even is this? He thinks as he picks up a suspicious looking serum, labelled as snail mucin and gives it an experimental sniff. He thought it’d smell worse to be fair.

“No, you have to put the toner first and then the serum.” You mumble at him, gently tugging at his hands with your fingers and before he knows it, you have a toner pad all up in his face, wiping over his nose and cheeks before you cover the rest of his face.

“Hey- i’m meant to be doing your skincare. I don't need this stuff.”

He almost feels a pang of hurt in his chest as you raise an eyebrow at him, as if accusing him of having bad skin. With a huff, he removes the toner pad from your hands and throws it in the bin before gently pulling at your cheeks. “I have great skin, thank you. Dont give me that look.”

You immediately frown and attempt to puff your cheeks, causing him to have mercy and let go before he grabs a new toner pad and repeats your actions to yourself.

When you come back to your senses, your head is smushed against a pillow whilst he changes by the closet behind you. Your thoughts don't feel as hazy as they used to be, and you’re even starting to contemplate everything that happened earlier. Did he really mean what he meant? Did he actually like you.. romantically? You physically cringe at your own thoughts and hide your face behind your hands, groaning just quiet enough that he doesn't quite hear it. Sleeping next to him had always felt odd to you, but you always slept at different times so it never really felt romantic in any sort of way. You liked to stay up late and he liked to get a decent rest before the next morning. It was only recently that you started glancing at his sleeping face beside you, admiring the peace in his expression when he lost himself to his dreams and no other worries. Otherwise, it just felt like a roommate, nothing more nothing less.

But now his trousers were falling to the floor behind you, and you were laying in bed not quite falling asleep nor attempting to stay up. Suddenly, he wanted to sleep with you, not only beside you. It suddenly felt all too real that you two were actually married, actually partners and actually slept beside each other each night. What next, were the notes you left in his lunch romantic too? In truth, you were slightly freaking out but that might’ve been the alcohol making things a hundred times worse than they should’ve been, especially since you had started crying unannounced earlier. That’ll play in the back of your mind forever but for now you’re focused on his soft footsteps as he approaches the bed, dressed in a much looser shirt and pants. He always slept like this but this time he looks down at you, one finger gently poking your cheek as he sits on the other end of the bed.

“I actually prefer to sleep with my shirt off. But we always fell asleep at different times so I never got to ask your permission.”

He hums quietly, the finger now gently rubbing along the soft curve of your cheek instead.

“You can.. I don't mind.” You say quietly, eyes trailing over his form as he settles himself against the headboard right beside you. Touching you.

“Are you sure your cheeks won't get too red?”

He teases, hand moving towards the top of your head to gently card his fingers through your locks. You push yourself up to a sitting position, letting out a soft yawn as you do so before you blink at him hazily again. This time, you press forward and place your hand on his abdomen, absentmindedly rubbing your finger there back and forth. “I want to see your injuries.”

Not even he can stop the way his face softens at that and he tucks you into his side again, his other hand pulling the shirt up and over his head to discard onto the carpet beneath the bed. This view is only for you: his paled skin, the fresh scars, the old scars, fading bruises and fresh bruises, stitches that fall out and others that are pulled tight but most of all, his body. All for your eyes only, only for you. Your hand runs gently over the outline of his newest bruise, a deep purple that covers the entire expanse of his hip. It’s blooming into something worse and you’re sure it’ll hurt more tomorrow, not that he’d ever complain about that anyway. “You always come home with injuries, and you just play them off. Don't they hurt? Don't you want me to care for you?”

You say quietly, voice even softer now that you’ve sobered up, and he just lets out a breath, his face turning to watch the way your brows furrow and your lips press together. To have someone fuss over him like this is something he never thought about much, but it didn't mean he hadn’t craved the idea before. Yours was genuine worry, and you always held that genuine care for him. But it felt different now, more natural, more intimate. Like he was the only one you would worry about like this— he loved that feeling.

“I don't ever want you to worry about a thing, even if I do like the way your eyebrows crease when you do.” He chuckles softly, leaning down to press his lips affectionately against your hair before sitting back up properly again. “I suppose if you really want to.. I couldn't deny I'd be flattered to have you care for me.” The curve of your lips is what makes him smile as well, finding it all too endearing how easily a grin can form on your face.

“You’re such a flirt..” You mutter, trying to play it off and wiggle out of his hold on you, only serving for him to raise an amusing brow at you. “I’m only making up for what I can’t do to a tipsy girl.”

“I’m not tipsy..” You argue, sitting up a little straighter which makes his arm gently rest on your lower back instead.

“Oh? Really now? Let me test you then, since I used to be a policeman.”

“Fine, give me what you’ve got.”

“Sing the alphabet backwards if you’re sober.”

You instantly splutter, shaking your head quickly.

“Hey! Not even a normal person can do that. I knew you didn't actually like me.” He has to stop himself from rolling his eyes up at your grumbling, squashing your cheeks to make you shush.

“Is it really a crime that I don't want you to forget our first kiss because of some stupid whiskey?”

“Your stupid whiskey.” He finally rolls his eyes at your retort, gently pushing you back into bed and pulling the covers up and over you. “Alright fine, my stupid whiskey. Now, be honest with me, are you sober?”

The little frown on your face has disappeared with the hope his question brings, and you nod quietly, wide eyes looking into his.

“Are you very sure?” You were definitely sober now, his voice immediately lowering to a rasp as his hands travel up to cup the soft curves of your cheeks as they begin to turn pink. Just like that, he’s the man you’ve fallen for all over again, soft strands of fair hair framing his chiselled face as if they’re perfectly placed to put you under his spell. His index tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, gently rubbing the skin of your cheek with his calloused thumbs. His skin is so rough and yet you can't help but feel he is so soft at this moment; his eyes are like gentle waves, looking at you so fondly that you finally remember to reply.

“I-i'm sure.”

He doesn't hesitate, leaning in closer until his nose just touches the tip of yours, eyes locked onto every small movement you can even think about doing. “Can I?” The nod you give is the green light he’s always dreamed of; this day is all he has ever thought about since you joined his life. You let your eyes flutter closed, feel the warmth of his breath that tickles your skin as he draws closer and closer until his lips meet yours so gently. You have to physically stop yourself from giggling, probably the alcohol still trying to make a fool of you, but you just can't believe he’s the one wrapping you in his touch. Likewise, you wrap your arms around his neck, and he lets out a small gasp when you suddenly gain the strength to meet him upright, almost as if you’re threatening to pin him instead. Of course, he couldn't just let that slide easily. So, as anyone would, he pushes you back down into the mound of pillows, causing you to squeal as he leaves his touch all over your face, fleeting kisses painting your skin a rosy red. “You better not forget this in the morning.” He scoffs playfully as your eyes squeeze shut, giggles that spill out your mouth while he gives the affection he’s craved to gift to someone for years.

His job is hard, his life has been hard, and even this marriage initially felt the same. It wasn't so much the fact that he had essentially tied himself down to someone he barely knew, it was the realisation that he would never find his one person. That's why he did this after all, it seemed like it’d benefit the both of you and the day where he’d actually have a woman by his side slipped away with each mission. You, you were different though. You may have been an agent before, but outside of work you were the sweetest thing. Always subconsciously fussing over him, delaying sleep to prepare his lunch no matter how much he insisted you didn't need to, taking a personal duty to look after his cat, and still not being afraid to ask him when he seemed low or uncomfortable. You were everything he never had, even the annoying nagging of trying to get him to not lay on the couch after he ate or the fact that's his third whiskey yet.

Corny lines, the occasional flirty remark, dragging you to watch a movie— he wanted to do all of that before so you’d become actually his, actually the one he could say he loves and loves him back. But things got in the way, life got in the way, and he was starting to see his opportunities dissolve with each tired return from the mission. Despite his grumpy attitudes some days, his exhausted look as he collapsed into bed at eight, you still managed to fuss over him all the same— never once did you treat him differently, if not for the fact you’d cook him a slightly nicer meal after missions.

He was still busy, yes of course, but somehow he had managed to win you over. Maybe it was his silly jokes, though he’d seen you stare at his hair many times before so maybe that caught your eye. In any case, he’s happy to give any part of him to you, if not all of him. So when he’s pressed the last kiss on your nose and pulls the covers high over you, he tucks you into his chest, a final kiss to your temple as he looks down at your angelic expression. The way your smile curves at literally nothing but his touch is enough to make him fold right there, but he doesn't right now, squeezing you against him.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”

He whispers out, and you can't ignore it, eyes snapping up to look at him just from those three words. He sees the wonder in your eyes, the way they question the truth and if this really is real. Then you nod slowly, tuck your head into his chest, nestled against the beat of his heart.

“I love you too.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #flufftober #resident evil fluff #resident evil fandom #resident evil 4 #re4make #re4 leon #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy fanfic #re fanfic #!pinksheepfics #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy #resident evil fic

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l0stglitch · 10 months ago

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Platonic yandere lost boys

Notes- I’ve had this idea for an au in my head for a while now after reading the lost boys daughter au by @bella-goths-wife. I don’t usually post so sorry if the quality isn’t the best (I’m also from the UK so I might get some slang mixed up 😭).

Warnings- Light yandere behaviour (Reader is unaware) | Non violent kidnapping

• You moved to Santa Carla when you were young- around 6 or 7.

• After a fatal illness stole your father’s life- you, your mum and your two half siblings packed your bags and left for the coastal town.

• Unlike your siblings, you seemed to instantly fall in love with Santa Carla. Your little eyes wide as you took in the beauty of the vast beaches with their towering palm trees.

• To say you settled in quick would be an understatement.

• It was only a month or two after moving that you first met them.

• Your siblings, much to their dismay, had been tasked with watching over you for the night.

• The moment your mother had left you to do her ‘adult chores’ (no one had bothered to tell you what she was actually doing) the two of them were quick to do their own thing.

• Kelly, being 16, left to go and chat up a couple of guys with her friends.

• Sean stuck with you a little longer than his sister had, however upon seeing a group of kids from school, the 14 year old mumbled some half-hearted excuse and told you to stay by the carousel before promptly ditching you.

• So that left you, a defenceless child, all alone.

• You weren’t particularly bothered, after all, this wasn’t the first time they had left you by yourself.

• You found it interesting to watch all the different people go by.

• Santa Carla was a lot more diverse in terms of population compared to your previous home.

• There, you had lived a pretty sheltered life. Only exposed to a small slice of the world. Everyone there was like you. Or at least, like your family.

• Here though, everyone was different.

• You thought it was amazing.

• Dwayne noticed you first. An alarmingly young child sat by the carousel all by yourself. He didn’t usually take much notice of the people around him, but seeing you alone had awakened some long forgotten feeling from within.

• He wasn’t sure if that uncomfortable squirming in his stomach was some strange vampiric instinct Max had failed to tell them about, or if there was still some humanity left in his unbeating heart.

• Either way, it put him on edge.

• The others were quick to notice Dwayne’s change in demeanour. Particularly David- the self appointed leader of the pack.

• Every now and again the brunette’s gaze would drift over to the carousel, land on you, and then flitter around in search for someone who may be looking after you.

• Needless to say, he couldn’t find anyone.

• After around an hour David grew tired of his partner’s divided attention, and suggested they just ask you where your parents were.

• You’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little intimidated by the four men who for some reason had decided to surround you.

• Dwayne crouched down, so that he was at your level, and regarded you thoughtfully. He didn’t smile, but his expression wasn’t exactly threatening either.

• He asked where your parents were, and upon finding out you had no idea, offered to stay with you until someone came looking for you.

• David left, refusing to be seen with a child, and dragged a conflicted Marco with him.

• Much to Dwayne’s surprise, Paul stayed, although it was obvious he was too high to understand what was actually going on.

• For the rest of the night, you stuck by Dwayne’s side as he guided you through the busy crowds of the boardwalk.

• Eventually the three of you stopped at a stall selling handmade jewellery.

• You couldn’t help but stare at one of the necklaces laid out on display.

• To your young brain, it was beautiful.

• The necklace was made of leather, with beads and feathers hanging from a knot at the end.

• Dwayne noticed the way you fixated on the jewellery.

• “Do you like the necklace?”

• You nodded, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically shy. You knew your mama hated jewellery like that. If she were here, she’d scoff and call it ‘tacky’.

• Dwayne didn’t reply. Instead, he turned his attention to the woman running the stall.

• He waited until she had turned away, before snatching the necklace and grabbing your hand.

• You had to jog to keep up with his giant steps.

• Once you were a fair distance from the woman, Dwayne bent to your level and carefully fixed the necklace round your neck.

• It was ridiculously long for you, but you didn’t care.

• “You shouldn’t steal.” You said, looking up at him with an innocent frown.

• Behind you, Paul cracked up laughing, making you flinch at the sudden loud noise. A large hand came down to rest on your little shoulder as Paul crouched next to you.

• He looked between you and Dwayne with a grin, “Hear that Dwayne? Little missy here’s telling you off.”

• Dwayne chuckled slightly at Paul’s comment, keeping his gaze fixed on the ground, as if trying to compose himself.

• When he finally met your eyes, he sent you a gentle smile.

• “Stealing’s only bad if you get caught. If nobody knows you did it then it doesn’t count.” You blinked, not entirely understanding his logic but trusting him nonetheless.

• “Yeah- no point in paying for shit when you can just steal it,” Paul chimed in, patting your head as he stood up.

• Dwayne sent his lover a stern look at his vulgar language but didn’t say anything.

• The three of you continued wandering around for some time after that. You weren’t sure how long it had been since your siblings had abandoned you, but it felt like hours. Your feet had become sore from walking so much, and you were struggling to keep up with Paul and Dwayne’s pace.

• Thankfully, you eventually ran into Sean, who seemed slightly disturbed by the two men you were accompanied by.

• You were surprised by his mistrust towards them: after-all, they had been very kind to you. A small smile graced your face as you remembered the necklace that hung limply from your neck.

• Well, you didn’t care what Sean thought of them. They were nice to you. Nicer than your real family.

• After that incident, you began noticing Dwayne and his other friends more whenever you visited the boardwalk at night.

• Sometimes you’d run away from Sean and Kelly, preferring the attention you got from Dwayne and Marko.

• You were introduced to Marko not long after meeting Dwayne and Paul.

• He had greeted you with a lot more energy than the other two, surprisingly happy to meet you.

• You liked Marko a lot. He always seemed excited to see you, and never grew tired of playing games like hide and seek.

• David, on the other hand, you weren’t so sure on.

• He never spoke directly to you, in fact, you weren’t sure he ever looked directly at you either.

• One night you had asked Dwayne why David didn’t like you. He simply gave you a sad smile and said, “He will one day, Y/n, just give him time.”

• Unbeknownst to you, David did like you.

• He liked the way you giggled at Paul’s jokes. The way you squealed with joy when you caught up to Marko in a game of tag. The way you stared up at Dwayne with absolute adoration every time he spoke.

• It pissed him off how much he liked having you around.

• After all, you weren’t their kid. You already had a family. A neglectful one at that- but a family all the same.

• You weren’t theirs.

• You should be, David thought, watching your face light up as Paul somehow managed to win you a giant bear at a carnival game. You fit in with the pack perfectly. He had never understood Max’s desire to start a family until you had shown up. Whilst at first David couldn’t stand the thought of being seen with such a young child, he now felt a strange, sick sort pride when people saw you with them.

• Unfortunately, he wasn’t the best at showing it.

• But for now, that didn’t matter. You had been living in Santa Carla for around 6 months, and most nights were spent with at least one of the boys.

• You never questioned why they were so eager to see you all the time, or why you only ever saw them when the sun was down and the moon was out.

• To your naive, 6 year old brain, those details were irrelevant.

• Your big sister Kelly, however, thought otherwise.

• She had brought up your strange company over dinner one evening. As per usual, your mother was out, so she had left her eldest daughter in charge food, which unsurprisingly meant that the three of you had ended up eating greasy pizza from a takeaway.

• “You need to stop running off with those creeps, Y/n,” she had told you sternly, taking a small bite out of the slice of pizza in her hand.

• Your gaze dropped down to your lap, and you anxiously began fiddling with your fingers. You hated being told off.

• “But they’re nice to me,” you looked back up and met her eyes timidly, “And they spend more time with me then you two,” you added, looking over at Sean, who kept his eyes firmly fixed on the food in front of him.

• Kelly scoffed at that. “I don’t care how much you like them. You’re 6! Mum’s gonna kill us if she finds out me and Sean left you by yourself!”

• You flinched at her harsh tone, tears beginning to gather in your eyes.

• Sean finally looked up from his food, immediately noticing your distress.

• Your head was bowed, so he couldn’t properly see your face, but a fat droplet falling onto your plate told him all he needed to know.

• “We just don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said gently, leaning in slightly.

• Unfortunately, his words seemed to provide no comfort whatsoever, as you jumped down from you chair and ran out of the room.

• Sean scowled at Kelly.

• “That went well.” He snapped, shoving another slice of pizza into his mouth.

• She glared back at him, “I’m trying to make sure our sister doesn’t get kidnapped.”

• “…Half-sister.” Sean mumbled through the food in his mouth.

• “Yeah.. well she’s still our responsibility- mum’s too busy to help.” Kelly replied, unaware that you were hidden behind the door, listening in.

• You had no idea what a ‘half sister’ was, so hearing Sean’s comment made your throat tighten uncomfortably as you fought another fresh wave of tears. You didn’t understand why you were only ‘half’ a sister. Were you not good enough for him?

• Sean had always been nicer to you than Kelly, but suddenly you weren’t so sure either of them liked you that much.

• Not wanting to hear any more of their conversation, you ran upstairs to your room and buried yourself under the covers.

• You fell asleep quickly. Crying always seemed to make you tired.

• It wasn’t until at least a week later that you were able to see the boys again.

• Your siblings had made sure to keep you in sight every time you went to the boardwalk.

• Fortunately for you, there was a concert one night.

• The crowds made it easy for you to slip out of Sean’s hand and run away as far as possible.

• You weren’t even looking for Dwayne and his friends, really. You just wanted to get away from Sean and Kelly- their conversation about you still fresh in your mind.

• Despite this, you ended up running into David.

• He was leant up against some metal railing, a lit cigarette hanging leisurely from between his lips as he listened to whatever the woman beside him was talking about.

• You weren’t sure what to do. None of the others were around, and you didn’t want to be walking around the boardwalk alone, but you still weren’t entirely sure David actually liked you. Sure- he had never been outright rude to you, but there was something about the way you’d catch him staring at you that creeped you out.

• After significant hesitation, you walked over, your stomach twisting into knots as you caught his eye.

• He seemed slightly surprised to see you, but not necessarily unwelcoming.

• The blonde woman beside him took a step closer to you before squatting down and holding your hands in hers.

• “Are you lost sweetie?” She questioned, her head tilted slightly and her lips curving up into a gentle smile.

• Your eyes jumped from hers to David’s, unsure of what to say.

• He came closer and rested a hand on your small shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze. You blinked. This was new.

• “Alyssa, this is my daughter- Y/n.”

• You kept your expression neutral, but internally you were just as shocked as this ‘Alyssa’ woman was.

• “Oh! I didnt realise you..” She started, before trailing off, processing the new information.

• “Well, it’s not something I usually tell people right off the bat,” David replied, completely unfazed by the whole interaction.

• He glanced down at you, almost theatrically, before looking back up and meeting the blonde girl’s eye. “Her mum’s a total druggie, so it’s just us two now,” he continued, lowering his voice slightly with a crestfallen expression.

• Alyssa rubbed your knuckles pityingly before standing back up to her full height and looking at David. “I’m sorry- that’s terrible. Y/n is lucky to have you as a father.”

• David just smiled at that, before glancing down at you, “Y/n, Marko and Paul are hanging around the video store- why don’t you go and say hi. They’ve missed you.”

• You nodded eagerly, offering up a quick goodbye to the pair before running over to the video store, almost tripping over your own feet in your haste.

• You weren’t sure why David had introduced you as his daughter to that nice lady, but you weren’t completely opposed to the idea. David might be scary, you thought, but he would certainly make a pretty cool dad, with his spiky blonde hair and long black trench-coat.

• By the time you had reached the entrance to the store, you were completely out of breath, breathing in short, excited gasps as you walked in.

• For a moment, you were distracted by all the screens. You had never seen so many TV’s in one place, it was hard to know which one to look at.

• Suddenly, a hand came down to rest on your back, jolting you out of your thoughts.

• Turning around, you were surprised to find a man who seemed to be in his 40s or 50s (you weren’t particularly good with ages) smiling down at you.

• He wore a pair of pale rimmed glasses and his brown hair was nearly combed into a side part. The complete opposite of who you were looking for.

• Max knew exactly who you were. He had overheard the boys talking about you numerous times when they thought he was out of earshot, and additionally, he could feel it through their shared vampiric bond.

• He could feel their possessiveness every time you were with your biological family. That burning desire to protect.

• Max wasn’t at all surprised. Despite his boys’ apparent ignorance to the reason behind their strange situation, he knew exactly what was going on.

• You had unknowingly wormed your way into their pack, and they had become obsessed. Unintentionally of course, Max mused. David in particular wasn’t exactly the nurturing type. Despite that, there was little anyone could do to combat their instincts to protect the youngest member of the pack, especially with how vulnerable you were.

• “Hey kiddo, you in need of any help?”

• You blinked up at him, momentarily forgetting why you had ran into his store in the first place.

• “I um- I’m looking for my…” You trailed off, unsure of how to describe your relationship with Marko and Paul to the man.

• “Your parents?” He offered up gently, his eyebrows quirking a little.

• You shrugged timidly. Were they your parents? You weren’t sure at this point. You already had a mum, but she wasn’t around much anymore. What about your dad? You realised you couldn’t remember a whole lot about him.

• Dwayne and his friends seemed to have taken his place. Although you were starting to wonder whether they actually were his friends, or perhaps something else.

• They held hands a lot- particularly Marko and Paul. And when no one was around, sometimes you’d catch them exchanging tender kisses. It reminded you of how your mama and dad used to kiss. She’d often tell you how in love she was with your father. Maybe Dwayne was in love with David, Marko and Paul?

• The two latter individuals strode into view, as if summoned by Max’s question.

• Marko greeted you with an excited grin, “Hi pumpkin! Where’ve you been hiding all this time?” He questioned playfully, picking you up and spinning you around.

• You laughed, happy to see them. “I wasn’t hiding silly!”

• Paul gently hit Marko’s arm, “Stop hogging her man!” He huffed, prying you from his lover’s grasp.

• You wrapped your arms around Paul’s neck, causing him to chuckle slightly.

• “I’ve missed you baby. Where’ve you been?”

• Max, who was stood slightly off to the side now, didn’t fail to notice how keenly they wanted to know your whereabouts.

• For the past week or so, all he had felt through the pack bond was a painful longing for you. It was very sweet, but unfortunately quite distracting for a man who was trying to run a store.

• You smiled sadly at Paul, “Sean and Kelly didn’t want me seeing you guys anymore- they said you were creepy…” You trailed off, noticing how Paul’s expression had grown considerably darker.

• “Did they now?” You looked over at Marko, who had just spoken. He was staring at you intently, almost as if you were the one who had said those things.

• You looked down at the floor and nodded, unable to hold his gaze any longer.

• “You don’t agree with them do you?” Paul asked softly. You weren’t sure you had ever heard him sound so… dejected?

• You quickly shook your head in response, desperate to try and cheer them both up. It made you uneasy seeing Paul sad and Marko angry- they were both usually so cheerful around you.

• “Well, as long as you know that they’re wrong about us,” Marko said with a shrug, his lips forming a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Not that you noticed, only being a young child.

• “I know!” You assured him, smiling back.

• Paul and Marko shared a look, both of them feeling slightly threatened by the apparent worry of your siblings.

• Max cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him. “Perhaps it’s time you took her back with you.” It came out as more of an order rather than a request, but that wasn’t what bothered Paul and Marko.

• They were more confused about how their head vampire somehow knew exactly what was going on with you and what their plans were.

• “You uh- you know about..?” Paul gestured down to you, frowning at Max, who merely chuckled at the younger vampire’s confusion.

• “Trust me. I know what it’s like to crave a family, that’s only natural for… people like us,” he explained, amused by the bewildered looks that adorned both their faces.

• Max looked down at you briefly, making sure you weren’t paying attention to their conversation before adding, “Might I suggest you get her-” he paused, searching for the right phrase, “-settled in as quickly as possible. The sooner you remove her from that neglectful mother and her spawn, the sooner she’ll forget about them.”

• The harsh choice of words caught them off guard, but neither said anything.

• Marko couldn’t stop the grin from forming on his face, “That shouldn’t be a problem Max,” he replied, resting his hands on your shoulders and crouching slightly so he was eye to eye with you.

• You weren’t sure what had caused his mood to change so erratically, but you weren’t in a hurry to complain.

• “Me and Pauly wanna show you a very special place, but you have to be a good girl for us.”

• Behind him, Paul scoffed quietly at the nickname.

• “I’ll be good!”

• “You promise?” He asked seriously, holding out a pinky finger.

• “I promise.” You answered solemnly, linking your finger with his.

• He nodded, satisfied with your answer before standing to his full height and glancing back at Max, “We’ll see you around then I guess.”

• Max hummed in reply, and watched as the two of them led you out, Paul holding your small hand in his.

• You excitedly squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. “We gotta go find Dwayne and David now, Y/n,” he told you, carefully scanning the surrounding area.

• “I already saw David earlier!” You replied gleefully, trying to tug Paul over to where you had seen him before.

• Marko stopped you before you could lead them over. “David told us to meet back at the bikes,” he countered, mainly speaking to Paul rather than you.

• Paul nodded in agreement, “Yeah I remember now. We should probably head over there then.”

• You felt slightly dejected by the way they had both completely ignored your help, but that feeling melted away as the bikes came into view and you saw David and Dwayne hovering nearby, clearly deep in conversation.

• “Hey! David! Dwayne! Look who we just ran into!” Paul called over, grabbing both men’s attention.

• Dwayne snapped around the moment he heard his lover’s voice, his eyes immediately landing on you.

• “Dwayne!” You cried gleefully, slipping out of Paul’s grip and running over to hug the long haired brunette.

• He embraced you tightly, as if worried you were going to disappear at any moment.

• You were surprised by how firm the hug was, but thought little of it. You were back with your favourite person, and that was all that mattered.

• “I’ve missed you princess.” You smiled, happy to hear his deep voice again after a week of being stuck with your siblings.

• “Me too!” You replied, pulling back so you could look Dwayne in his eyes. He looked like he wanted to hug you more, but refrained from doing so- not wanting you to feel smothered.

• “Marko says that you’re all going to show me somewhere special!” You informed him matter of factly, unable to contain the excitement that was leaking into your words.

• Dwayne’s brows shot up in surprise. He knew exactly where this “somewhere special” was, but he was caught off guard by the suddenness of it all, and the fact that Marko of all people was the one to call the shots.

• His gaze flickered over to said person, shooting him a questioning look.

• David seemed equally confused, almost choking on his cigarette smoke. “Tonight? You knew we were going to wait longer.” His tone sounded slightly more threatening than intended, but he didn’t care. David hated feeling undermined- even if it was from one of the men he loved.

• Marko’s head cocked to the side as he casually met David’s irritated gaze, completely unfazed. “Change of plan I guess. It was Max’s idea, not mine.” He paused momentarily, his brows furrowing slightly, “And those other two kids are starting to become a problem.”

• Had you been a little older, you might’ve realised that the ‘other two kids’ they spoke about were your half siblings, but instead you remained completely oblivious. Unaware of the tension hanging in the air.

• “You told Max?”

• “He already knew,” Paul answered with an unbothered shrug, failing to understand Dwayne and David’s concerns.

• David nodded slowly, not entirely surprised that Max had caught on. “So… we’ll take the kid back to the cave and then sort out our little problem.”

• “The kid? She has a name David,” Dwayne muttered, shooting him a pointed look.

• “Fine. We’ll take Y/n back to the cave.” He hesitated before continuing, “I’m assuming you’ll want her to ride with you?”

• “Well, I was the one who found her first. And Paul and Marko aren’t exactly the safest drivers.” Dwayne shot back defensively.

• “What the fuck man? We’re great drivers!” Paul retorted, nudging Marko, who stumbled slightly at the action.

• The shorter man steadied himself on Paul’s shoulder before nodding passionately in agreement. “Yeah- some might say we’re the best in Santa Carla!”

• David scoffed, “That’s debatable.”

• You were still stood at Dwayne’s side, waiting patiently for the four of them to finish their grown-up conversation.

• You hadn’t been listening very closely, but it seemed like they had finally come to an agreement on something.

• Dwayne squeezed your shoulder, grabbing your attention. “You’re gonna ride with me now Y/n, so you gotta hold on real tight.”

• You felt an uncomfortable twisting sensation in your stomach at his warning. It was probably just the nervousness that came with riding a motorcycle for the first time, but something about the situation felt off.

• “I can’t. Mama doesn’t like motorcycles- she says they’re dangerous.”

• He sighed, “Look sweetheart, I know you think your mum knows best, and that she’s some amazing parent who would do anything for you, but the reality is she’s not.”

• You frowned. Dwayne’s words hurt a lot more than he had intended them too.

• “But she loves me..” You protested timidly, confused by the pitying look he was giving you.

• “Then why isn’t she here looking after you?”

• The question caught you off guard. He had a point. Where was your mum? You hadn’t seen her since yesterday, and even then she hadn’t even spoken directly to you.

• Dwayne took your silence as an answer, cupping your cheeks in his hands and making sure your full attention was on him.

• “She doesn’t matter anymore Y/n. We’re your family now, and we won’t let anything happen to you.”

• “You promise?”

• “I swear Y/n, I won’t ever let anyone or anything hurt you. You’re safe with us- ok?”

• You nodded silently, finding comfort in his words.

• Dwayne smiled reassuringly before picking you up by the waist and placing you onto the back of his motorcycle.

• You watched as the four of them all mounted their rides, before revving their engines and racing down the path.

• It wasn’t a particularly long trip- especially with how fast the boys rode. The whole journey you clung to Dwayne’s waist like your life depended on it, eyes tightly shut and head curled into his back.

• Eventually the five of you stopped near the edge of a cliff. Dwayne twisted round and set you on the ground before dismounting and checking to see if you were ok.

• You nodded wearily, unable to fight the way your eyelids kept fluttering shut.

• “She won’t be able to make it down those steps if she’s practically falling asleep,” David said taking a step closer, “I’ll have to carry her.”

• Dwayne’s head shot up. “I can take her.”

• “You’ve had Y/n for the whole ride- I’m sure you’ll survive the short walk to the cave without her,” David remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm.

• Dwayne glared at the blonde but stepped back to allow him to pick you up.

• You didn’t resist when David lifted you up, it was a relief to not have to worry about standing up, or keeping your eyes open. Your small arms wrapped around his neck and your head came down to rest on his shoulder.

• You were asleep before he even started walking.

• The walk down to the cave entrance was spent in complete silence. They spoke to each other telepathically through the pack bond, discussing what they were going to do about your previous family and how they were going to get you settled into the pack.

• It wasn’t until they reached the cave entrance that anyone spoke.

• “So she’s sleeping in the room we prepared?” Paul asked from behind David.

• “Yeah that’s right.”

• You stirred at the sound of a voice, lazily lifting your head slightly to look at Paul and Marko behind you.

• They were oblivious to your sleepy gaze watching them from David’s shoulder as he carried you through the dimly lit cave.

• Not before long they eventually reached the ‘room’ that had been prepared for you.

• Being in a collapsed hotel, it was an unusual shape, with a ceiling that slanted down towards the far end before abruptly being cut off by the jagged roof of the cave. It wasn’t completely ready yet, so the only furniture was a queen sized bed and an unusually large bean bag in the corner.

• David carefully settled you down onto the bed, and you blinked up at him.

• “This is your room now baby. We’ll decorate it how you like later on, but right now you’ve got everything you need.” Dwayne said softly, crouching down to the side of the bed.

• “Where’s your bed?” You asked through a yawn.

• He smiled, “Not too far.”

• Paul took a step closer. “We’ll be down the hallway, Y/n.”

• Your eyes flickered back over to Dwayne, “Why can’t you just stay here? I don’t like the dark.”

• He gently brushed some of your hair out of your face, “We can stay if you want.”

• You nodded with a smile, and shuffled further into the middle to let him climb in next to you. Dwayne wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer protectively.

• The bed dipped to your left, and you turned over to see who it was.

• You were surprised to see that it was David rather than Marko or Paul, but you didn’t say anything. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep your eyes open, especially with the inviting darkness of your new room. As you were drifting off to sleep, you felt a hand gently rubbing your arm, and the soft murmur of David’s voice.

• “She’s finally ours now.”

Final notes- I do plan on writing more for this au. This was more of an introduction/explanation of how reader ended up being a part of the pack, and it wasn’t originally supposed to be written as an actual fic but I kind of got carried away.

I have some vague ideas for where I wanna take this but nothing is really set in stone at the moment. One thing I do know however is that it will definitely get darker as the reader gets older (sorry if you were hoping for smth fluffy). Updates might be slow so I apologise in advance 🙏

#the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #the lost boys x reader #platonic #yandere #platonic yandere #poly!lost boys x reader #the lost boys x child!reader #Yandere lost boys

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