#a chill that blows through every so often

[gensokyogains]

Also thinking of what a casino built into a cave would look like-

[maxinesgun]

i'll keep you warm ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

pairing: jackson!abby x fem!reader

summary: you're in jackson with the salt lake crew, and tensions are high. losing herself in you on a cold night is the perfect way for abby to ease her pent-up worry and agitation.

cw: nsfw, porn with plot, soft dom!abby, tribbing, fingering (r!receiving), boob touching/licking, tense and stressed abby, established relationship, semi-public (?), dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl), fluff then smut, reader comforting abby. 3.1k

a/n: there's something about jackson abby... mmm. this is somehow both fluffy and smutty at the same time, which i didn't fully intend, but i think my adoration for her just slipped in lmao. also the longest and possibly filthiest thing i've written so far, soo do with that what you will. enjoy!!

The world outside was a snow globe, a swath of white blanketing towering pines. Dark had fallen, and the wind had started up again, blowing the thick flakes every which way and making it hard even to see the forest beyond. It looked frigid, and you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, grateful to be back inside. You were still tired from the journey over here, and it felt like the chill had settled deep into your bones, making everything ache dully. You wanted to be back in Seattle, back where it was familiar. Not this cold, lonely-feeling place—but you knew you were here for a reason.

And the sooner it was over and done with, the better.

You turned from the window when you heard the faint creak of the floorboards, and Abby rounded the corner, exhaustion written across her features. She was tense, had been ever since you’d left home; you could see it in the stiff way she moved, in the way she seemed distracted, often lost in thought. Her mind was clearly elsewhere, and you could guess precisely where that was.

“You’re still up,” she said, slightly out of breath from coming in from outside. There was a light dusting of snow on her coat and hat, and her face was flushed from the cold. You thought she looked like an angel.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You watched her pull off her hat and begin shucking off her coat as she moved further into the room, eyes scanning you briefly as if to make sure you were okay. She was always doing that—always looking out for you even when there was nothing to worry about. It made your chest flicker with warmth. “It looks pretty bad out there.”

“Awful,” Abby confirmed. She ambled over to join you at the window. “Scoped out the area, though. The plan is to head down into the valley. I’m hoping it’ll get us somewhere, at least.”

“We’ll find him,” you said firmly, reassuringly, your voice hushed in the quiet of the room. Everyone else had gone to bed, and it was almost like it was just the two of you out here, in this lonely cabin. It felt intimate. You closed the remaining distance between you, resting a hand on her arm and rubbing it lightly. “We’ve come so far already. Try not to worry about it anymore until tomorrow, ‘kay?”

She puffed a small sigh, and after a pause she nodded, looking back at you. “Yeah,” she murmured. A soft look came into her eyes as she stared at your face for a long moment, gaze lingering over your features in a way that made you want to look away, unexpectedly shy. She brought a hand up to tuck a piece of your hair back behind your ear, her fingers brushing lightly against your cheek as she did.

You felt heat bloom across your face under her attention, at the tenderness of the touch. You breathed a quiet laugh. “What?”

“Just… glad you’re here.” Abby’s thumb skated across your cheekbone once more before slowly drawing back. She looked like she wanted to say more, but you felt all the meaning of the words, heart swelling in your chest. Before you could say anything, a shiver rippled through you, and her gaze dipped down to where you were clutching your sweater tightly around you. “Are you cold? I’ll get the fire going.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to—” you started, but she was already halfway across the room, striding to the fireplace. She tossed a few logs in and then crouched down in front of it, using a piece of flint and steel to spark a flame. Truly, what had you done to deserve her?

Slowly, you made your way over to the old mattress you’d stationed before the hearth, where your sleeping bags were spread out. You sat, quietly watching her nurse the flames into a steadily blazing fire that filled the room with warmth. Immediately, you felt a bit better as the chill in your bones dissipated.

Your eyes traced over Abby as she worked, a somewhat faraway expression on her face as she stared into the flames. You made no effort to hide the way your gaze lingered indulgently on the veins in her hand as it gripped the fire poker, the flex of her biceps beneath her shirt. It wasn’t something you could help; your admiration for her never lessened, and you still felt a flush of awe each time you stopped to really look at her—which was, needless to say, often.

Still, though, seeing how high her nerves were sent a stab of worry and protectiveness in your gut. You knew how much this meant to her, avenging her father. It had been the sole thing driving her since his death, and now that she was finally so close, the tension and impatience radiating off of her was palpable. You wished you could take it away, carry the burden of it yourself—or, at the very least, ease it for awhile.

Abby set the poker aside and sat beside you on the mattress, grunting a bit with exhaustion as she lowered herself down beside you. She began unlacing her boots, glancing sidelong at you as she did. “Better now?”

You nodded, a soft smile ghosting across your lips. “Much better. Thank you,” you said quietly. When she had kicked her boots off, you closed the space between you, swinging a leg over her to settle in her lap. Your arms laced around her neck, and her hands came up to rest on your thighs instinctively, squeezing them lightly.

“I should be the one asking you if you need anything. You’ve had a long day.” You gave her a light, chaste kiss, and brushed the pad of your thumb over her soft bottom lip. “Are you hungry? I’ll go heat something up for you.”

“I’m fine. I had something before I left,” she told you, her hands rubbing against your thighs languidly. “Don’t worry about me.” She leaned forward to capture your lips in another kiss; this one was deeper, tinged with yearning. You sighed into it, feeling her tongue run along your lip before dipping into your mouth to brush against yours.

When you pulled away, you looked at her earnestly. She was always downplaying her own needs, always insisted on being the one to cater to you. You loved it, of course, but you felt the need to take care of her, too, especially right now. “Let me make you some tea, then.” You made to get up, but her grip on your thighs tightened a bit, pulling you back down against her lap.

Wordlessly, she drew you into another kiss, tongue stroking into your mouth in a hungry way that made you groan. The pure need in it caught you off-guard, stirring the desire in the pit of your stomach so suddenly it was almost startling. “I don’t want tea,” she murmured against your lips when you broke apart for breath. The implications of the words were clear—it was something else that she wanted.

She kissed along your jaw before moving down to your neck, lightly sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. You sucked in a breath as your head tilted a bit to the side, giving her easier access. It was your favourite spot to be kissed, instantly made you dissolve into putty, and she knew it.

Her hands trailed up your thighs and under your shirt, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they slid over your bare skin. They were calloused and warm, her touch firm as it roamed higher, stopping just under your breasts. Then she tugged lightly at the hem of your shirt. “Take this off,” she ordered, voice firm but still achingly soft, her breath warm against your neck.

You complied almost instantly, the heat pooling south in your abdomen not making you inclined to oppose her. Reaching down, you pulled your sweater up and over your head in one smooth motion, leaving your torso bare but for the lacy lilac bra that Abby loved so much on you. The heat of the crackling fire behind you warmed your exposed skin, keeping the chill from fully getting to you.

Abby pulled back to look at you, her gaze drinking you in as her hands wasted no time moving to undo the clasp of your bra. You could tell she was impatient for this, her eyes dark with lust, her breathing growing heavier as she unhooked your bra and slipped it down your arms a bit clumsily. It sent a sharp stab of desire through you, and suddenly you needed her hands on you, needed to feel them everywhere.

The bra came off, revealing your bare chest, nipples already hard and perky both from the chill and arousal. Abby’s big hands reached to cup them, squeezing them lightly, her thumbs rubbing over your sensitive buds. “So pretty, baby,” she breathed as she scattered kisses along the column of your throat, your shoulders, your collarbone. They trailed down to your chest, and then she took one of your nipples into her mouth, tongue licking and circling over the perky bud. You sucked in a sharp breath, your body arching into her.

“Abby,” you sighed, clutching at her shoulders as she continued nipping and sucking at your chest. The ache of need in your core was growing with every passing second. Even as you glanced nervously toward the dark hallway, your hips shifted against her thighs, seeking stimulation. “We shouldn’t. What if someone��?”

“They’re all asleep by now,” she said, her voice a breathy whisper as she pulled back to look at you. It was only a second before her hands were back on your tits, kneading them—it was safe to say that she couldn’t get enough of them. “But you’re gonna have to keep quiet, yeah? Think you can do that for me?”

You smirked a little at the teasing note in her tone. “I can manage,” you said, a bit shakily. It was clear, from the way you were squirming in her lap and on the verge of panting, that you needed this just as badly as she did. At this point, you were so aroused that you couldn’t even bring yourself to care much about the fact that you weren’t alone here, that your friends were just in the other room. Fuck it—you would just have to hope that nobody walked in.

Abby’s lips quirked up slightly, amused, as she fumbled to undo the button of your pants. She held your gaze as her hand slid past your waistband and between your thighs. You released a shaky breath as she cupped your heat through the soaked-through fabric of your panties.

“Fuck, look at you,” she groaned lowly as she slowly dragged her fingers over you through the thin fabric. “So wet for me already.”

You bit your lip, a soft moan escaping you as your hips rocked into her touch, desperate for more. You were already aching for her, and her voice, silky and breathless in a way that betrayed her own arousal, certainly wasn’t helping.

She began a slow rhythm, stroking you firmly in a way that had the pleasure climbing steadily. Her hand was angled just right, the heel of her palm pressing right into your clit, and you were fighting back whimpers as it sent shocks of heat through you. As she worked you, her lips found your neck once again, biting and sucking soft skin that would surely bruise tomorrow. You always pretended to be exasperated at having to hide the hickeys she gave you, but in truth, it sent a little thrill through you whenever you caught someone eyeing your neck, the proof that she’d been all over you.

Your head was bent against her shoulder, your faltering breaths and tiny sounds of pleasure muffled against her shirt as you angled your hips to grind your clit harder into her palm. It was getting harder to keep control of yourself, and as you felt the wave of heat begin to rise, your grip on Abby’s arm tightened. Her bicep was solid and muscled beneath your grip.

“Mmph—Abby,” you panted, eyes squeezed shut in barely contained pleasure. “M’not gonna last much longer.”

With those words, it was like her last bit of restraint snapped. Suddenly she was hoisting you up by your thighs, shifting you from her lap to the mattress and pushing you down beneath her with more force than you were expecting, a little “oof” puffing from your lips. She leaned over you and began tugging your pants and underwear down your legs eagerly, making quick work of them. You lifted your hips a bit to help her, and watched with hazy, half-lidded eyes as she got them off and tossed them aside before immediately starting on her own, shoving them down her hips.

It was nothing like the way things usually went between you; nothing like the times she would tease you, drawing out your need until you were practically begging her to fuck you, all while murmuring encouraging words in your ear. This was different—this was pure, carnal lust, itching desperation, and your entire body was burning with arousal at the rough way she was handling you.

You were whimpering with anticipation, your thighs almost trembling with it, in the few moments it took for Abby to get her own pants off. You were completely naked as you lay splayed out across the sleeping bags, but no longer felt the least bit cold, not when Abby covered your body with her own, those big arms braced on either side of your head and her weight pressing you into the mattress below.

She grasped one of your legs and hiked it up sharply as she straddled you, slotting your thighs together perfectly. When you came together, her slick heat sliding wetly against your own, you couldn’t hold back the moan that rasped from your throat as the pleasure slammed into you all at once. Abby muttered a curse in your ear, only pausing for a second to breathe heavily before beginning to move. She gave a firm rock of her hips, and then another, grinding her throbbing pussy against yours and wrenching more sweet moans out of you.

“Shhh,” Abby hushed softly after you uttered a particularly dirty sound that bordered on too loud, her breath warm against the side of your face. Her own breaths were faltering as she kept up her rhythm, not stopping for a second. “Gotta be—mph—quiet, baby. Said you would, remember?”

You bit your lip hard, making a controlled effort to reign in the sounds of pleasure that were threatening to escape at the feel of her rubbing up against your aching clit. The slick sounds of your bodies moving together and your combined panting was all that you could hear in the quiet of the room. Every so often, a low, strangled groan would rumble from Abby’s throat when she wasn’t able to stifle it, her jaw clenched, the space between her eyebrows scrunching in pleasure.

Each movement sent a fresh wave of heat pulsing through you, and Abby’s pace was relentless. She let out a growl, her grip on your thigh tightening as she angled her hips to grind into you even harder. Her hips pushed you into the mattress, now thrusting into you with abandon.

“That’s it, fuck—so good for me, baby.” Her breaths were coming hard and fast, her face hovering close to yours as her eyes roved over you, taking in your blissed-out expression. Your eyes were dropped shut, your fingers clutching the fabric of her shirt so tightly your knuckles were white. You were rocking up into her weakly, but you could hardly do much with all of Abby’s strength on top of you, controlling the movement.

“So pretty when I fuck you like this,” she huffed. “You like it, yeah? Like it when I fuck this pretty pussy? Fuck.”

You just managed a weak nod in response, unable to even grasp the thoughts to form words in the midst of what you were feeling. The tug of heat in your abdomen was pulsing stronger and stronger; you could feel yourself unraveling. Whimpers had started to spill out of you, your body tensing as you neared release.

“Gonna come? Gonna show me how fuckin’ good it feels, huh?” she panted roughly, moving faster as she saw that you were right on the precipice, mouth hung agape, eyes clenched shut, head thrown back. “C’mon, give it to me.”

When you came, your orgasm crashed into you so hard that Abby had to quickly cover your mouth with a hand to muffle the cry you let out as your body jerked underneath her. She moaned, seeing the intensity of your pleasure clearly driving her closer to the edge as well. “That’s my—haah—s’my good girl.” She uncovered your mouth again and watched it wash over you, the aftershocks rolling through you at Abby’s continued thrusts. A few moments later she grunted, and you felt her reach her own peak, her pussy clenching against you, her hips stuttering as she came.

Together, you came down from your high. Abby dropped your leg as she slowed to a stop, her body slumping forward slightly into you for a few moments as she panted into the crook of your neck. You tilted your head to rest your cheek against the side of her face, the sound of your heavy breaths mingling with hers. A small grin tugged at your lips as a wonderfully light and floaty feeling washed over you, and you ran your hands languidly over her muscled back, the slope of her shoulders.

Abby pressed a soft kiss to your skin before rolling off you and onto the mattress beside you, relaxing into it with a sigh. She was still catching her breath, her eyes closed, and you just stared at her for a few beats, glad to see the serene expression on her pretty face. You wished it could stay that way.

After getting up and slowly pulling your clothes back on, you settled beside her again. She looked at you, raising her arm up expectantly in a gesture that invited you to come closer.

“C’mere,” she murmured, and you did, nestling against her and resting your head on her chest. You breathed in the familiar scent of the pine soap she used, listened to the beating of her heart next to your ear. It was utterly quiet now, peaceful, and you began to give in to the call of sleep. You felt Abby’s light touch rubbing soothing circles against your torso, lulling your eyes closed.

“Love you." Her voice was a hushed whisper in the dark.

“Love you, Abs.”

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | lava girl!reader, prohero!reader

The moment Pro Hero Dynamight lands on the scene, he knows something’s very wrong. Not only because of the amount of chaos around but also because fuckin’ Deku is down. Literally, face down, whole body trembling in pain due to the beating he just received, and fuck, that’s not a scene Bakugou encounters often.

Dynamight runs towards his hero partner, hand immediately landing on Deku’s back. Yes, he’s breathing, heart beats gallop in his chest –he is alive. Deku moves, raising his head when he feels Bakugou’s touch. The blond sighs relieved.

“Deku… What the fuck happened?!” 

“The villain’s… quirk…” Deku coughs in between words.

He doesn’t have a chance to completely warn Katsuki before an explosion makes them both fly apart. Dynamight swears loudly, barely holding his stance as the blast pulls him away. When the smoke subsides, he opens his eyes and they widen when right in front of him he sees himself.

A carbon copy of Pro Hero Dynamight comes walking, smiling smugly and evil as his cannon shows the residues of the blast.

“THE FUCK??!!” The real Pro Hero exclaims, completely gobsmacked. And angry. How they fucking dare to copy him?? A villain above all!!

“Kacchan… His quirk copies a person and their quirk! Look out!” 

As Deku yells in his way, Bakugou has to dodge another blast, this time intended completely at him. He hisses as his left elbow caught a bit of the fire. Fuck. This villain even copied the amount of power? By the burning pain in his elbow, Bakughou checks off that as a yes.

He shakes the pain off his brain, standing ready this time for another blow from himself. He’s fucking ready to beat some ass –well, kinda like his own ass.

But as again the smoke dissipates, this time is not himself who Katsuki encounters but you.

It's you.

You stand a few meters away in your hero costume. Dynamight frowns, “Y/H/N?? What the hell are you doing here?!” He intends to walk closer to you, but the evil smirk that appears on your face is so out of your character –especially directed towards him– and Deku’s yell again makes Katsuki stop dead in his tracks.

“NO! It’s not her! It’s the villain!”

A bone-chilling laugh leaves your mouth that makes everyone in the scene freeze in worry as lava strings start falling from your hands, and Dynamight gulps. Holy fuck.

For the first time in his career as a pro hero, Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t fucking know what to do. Fuck, he knows the person in front of him is not you but the villain. Yet… SHIT! FUCK! He can’t fucking fire against his wife! He could fight against anyone… Damn it, even if it was Deku or Kirishima or anyone, he could do it. He knows is the villain. But you?? Hell fucking NO.

So, Bakugou ends up doing what he never does, no matter how beaten up he gets. But this is a fuking emergency. 

“I need backup. NOW!” Dynamight barks through his hearing aid, and the whole agency hears loud and clear as everyone moves towards the scene.

In the meantime, Bakugou avoids every whip of lava the villain in the form of your persona throws at him. He dodges smartly –thanking every possible existing god that you bugged him enough into training with you similar to this a while ago; if not, he doubts he would be this agile against this fucking attack. With every attack, he moves further away from where Deku is –alongside some civilians, ‘cause those noisy ass fuckers are always in the way trying to take a damn picture!– and closer to the river. He needs to find a way to get the villain to make some contact with the water. If this piece of shit villain has your quirk now, it would only take a bit of water and they are fucking out.

Dynamight fails to dodge a particular whip that catches his shoulder, making him groan in pain as he falls to his knees.

“You’re pretty stupid if you think I haven’t realized what you’re trying to do,” you laugh mockingly, your lava whips stopping for a moment. “I thought you were smarter than that… baby.”

The way the villain says the nickname in your voice makes Katsuki want to vomit. It’s so… disturbing and ugly. He will definitely have nightmares after this.

Fuck! What the hell does he do now?! He can’t– FUCKING HELL! He feels dizzy, the sole image of you makes him want to puke, because he can’t. He can’t shoot you. It doesn’t matter that it’s a villain, it’s the perfect image of you, his beautiful and loving wife, in front of him. He will cut his own damn hands if he ever has to shoot against any form of you. He can’t– He CAN’T– HE FUCKING CAN’T–

As the villain laughs at his pathetic turmoil and a whip of lava stands high in the air ready to be sent at his kneeling form on the floor and probably cut him in two with the burn, a roar comes from under the ground. 

It’s an intimidating deep sound that makes everything tremble. The sound it’s so profound and raucous, filled with rage and determination that Katsuki feels it in his chest.

The ground between him and the villain starts to collapse, a burning heat and lava coming from down there that makes the villain retreat several meters when a wave of lava lunges against them.

And right there, from the middle, you emerge. 

Katsuki shakes his head suddenly realizing what is going on. Shit, it’s some sort of trance.

“You fucking dare hurt my husband with my own quirk?!” You growl, completely blinded by rage at well– yourself.

Pro Hero Dynamight snorts astonished, his heart beating fast and so fucking in love with you. Fuck, he loves it when you defend him, and he will never get tired of witnessing such a majestic view. Lava dancing around you at your disposal and own will, whole body glowing in red heat that chills his bones at how demonic you look. Fucking beautiful. Beautifully perfect. All his.

You lunge again against the villain, this time yourself included with the lava wave; but as you’re about to approach them, the villain changes form again and it’s Katsuki in front of you. It makes you hesitate in your attack as you stop right on time in front of the villain.

The real Katsuki opens his eyes wide as he finally understands.

The villain probably takes the form of one’s loved one to weaken them, not only attacking with their same quirk, but also sinking their mind into a state of submission that prohibits any counterattack. Shit, that’s a fuckin’ powerful villain. But it is just that. A copy. And it’ll never understand each quirk as the owners themselves. Still though, the use of the quirks are pretty lethal, real. Damn it.

“FUCK, NO!” He screams as the villain in Katsuki’s form smirks evilly, less than a meter in front of you, and his canon fires against you.

Howitzer Impact.

The blast flies you away, completely unexpected and unable to control your own body in your flight. And Katsuki is right there to catch you.

The villain cackles wildly, the smoke around blinding him from the real heroes. He looks so satisfied he could land an attack like that, and to none other than Dynamight’s wife. “How’s wifey, Dynamight? She survived? How would like the titles on the news, mh? ‘Dynamight kills his own wife’ or ‘Poor Dynamight couldn’t save his wife’?” He taunts, the smoke clearing the view of the real Bakugou, one knee on the floor and the other flexed as his entire body covers yours in protection.

He’s looking at you, the blast made your lava retreat completely even from your body as you look now in your normal and delicate human form, the fire has burned your face, right from under your left eye down to the neck. When you flutter your eyes open, you encounter the hateful look he has written all over his face as his eyes roar only one word: KILL.

When Pro Hero Dynamight turns to look at the villain, Deku –who finally got closer to the scene with Pro Hero Shoto holding him up with an arm around his shoulder– swears under his breath. He knows that look.

The villain in Dynamight’s form takes a step back when the real hero stands up slowly, a crazed look in his face as he turns.

“Now, this is fuckin’ personal…”

[wandasaura]

YOU CAN HEAR IT IN THE SILENCE

summary — as you navigate this new season of love with wanda and natasha, you make the time to fall into soft moments of comfortable silence, even as the world prepares to challenge you as the semester begins

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, domestic fluff, very light elements of dom/sub dynamics, alludes to mommy kink if you squint, oral fixation, just soft girlfriends wandanat and their little duckling

authors note — a little blurb inspired by this ask

The love you held so tenderly in your heart for Natasha had somehow grown to include Wanda as the months came and passed and the weather changed just as quickly. You’d gone through seasons of scarves, of thin jackets and long layers, of bikinis and designer sunglasses. This new season was softer, sweeter, and you cherished where it would lead you as the leaves changed and the breeze carried a welcomed chill. Throughout the seasons of your love, there were things that had never grown on you despite the weight they held in your relationship. You’d still not found a love for gardening despite seeing Wanda through a plethora of projects and renovations since the barren ground of winter had become plush with moisture and sunlight, and you still couldn’t tolerate the sitcoms that she’d roped Natasha into adoring just as equally. You could compromise, find entertainment in their joy, but some things had remained only theirs throughout your relationship, and you’d find genuine peace with that. Still, there were nights where you tried to fit into their puzzle for two, attempted to merge the sliver of separation that harmed no one, but could feel quite isolating when all you desired was their silent company. 

As you laid across Natasha, your head cradled between soft thighs in her lap, her fingers weaved into your hair that had been washed and blow dried affectionately just an hour earlier, you found a gentle peace in the laugh track that filled the living room with a delicate buzz and the lightness of the sound stages that brought forth an incandescent glow which turned soft colored eyes that you’d memorized since that first season of love where scarves had been wrapped around necks into dazzling specs of precious priceless gemstones. You hummed every so often, when her nails scratched at your scalp just right, but other than your soft noises of contentment, nobody spoke. 

You’d only gone back to classes last week, and while the introduction period was calm as it always had been, the buzz of academic anticipation had exhausted you tremendously. Your senior year was here, firmly upon you whether you were ready to dive into it or not. This would truly be the turning point that would irreversibly contribute to your future, and the stress of coming out on top felt debilitating before it had even truly begun. Wanda and Natasha had simultaneously taken a plunge into organized chaos within the last seven days, now back in the office full time, although Natasha still prioritized working from home. Your routine had shifted since the season of bikinis and designed sunglasses, now filled with long sleeves and cozy shorts that didn’t dig into your belly during lectures, but there was something to look forward to in this new stage of navigating your relationship. 

You were up earlier now most days – sparing Wednesdays which fortunately provided you a break – needing to be to campus by nine, having to leave at eight to ensure traffic didn’t set back your ambitious attempt to live off campus during the semester, which meant that you had a couple of soft, tender minutes to steal with Natasha before you really did have to start getting ready at seven. She never did come downstairs before you left for school, preferring to milk the absolute most out of her quiet mornings before she headed into the office across the hall, but you could count on stealing a kiss from Wanda who left within the same ten minutes of you, most times in the kitchen, after you’ve stolen a sip of her coffee that was always poured into the same stainless steel travel mug, but sometimes your departures aligned, and she’d walk you to the car with a gentle hand on the center of your back, and she’d kiss you sweetly before seeing you out of the driveway with an enthusiastic wave of encouragement. It was different, less entangled, but their soft company guided you through the mornings where it felt impossible to leave their side. 

Saturdays had an unspoken promise to them now. Where Wanda had once prioritized not working so intensely on Fridays, wanting to spend that day with you and Natasha at home, she’d rearranged her schedule to assure that any leftover assignments were delegated between trusted employees that could handle and meet the standard of which their company strived to uphold. You’d done nothing short of nothing all day, starting with a cheap breakfast of frozen pancakes and strawberries that weren’t quite in season anymore, leading into a dip in the pool beneath wind rustling leaves, although you quickly realized that fall temperatures were not as appealing as summer, and despite the use of the heater that Natasha had cracked up to a mid-ninety, you scrambled out within minutes and cocooned yourself in a fluffy bath towel that provided more protection than a beach towel could. You’d ordered takeout for lunch, ate those leftovers for dinner, and soaked up every moment of company you could in between meals at the dining room table, knowing that eventually, you’d have deadlines to meet and they’d have cases to work even if you’d silently vowed to spend as much time as you could reconnecting on Saturdays. 

When Natasha shifted beneath you, gently picking your head up from where it had rested in her lap for the last hour, you whined in discontentment, struggling against her tender hold to reclaim your position against her. She laughed softly in response, leaning down to lay a sweet kiss against your temple, before she slid out from beneath you entirely, stretching her arms above her head and revealing the milky skin of her belly that you couldn’t resist reaching out to poke. Without her fingers tangled into your hair, keeping you calm and stimulated against her warmth, the echoing laughter that played from the speakers scratched at your brain annoyingly. You sat up fully with a huff, criss crossing your legs as you looked at her glumly, unable to conceal your betrayal. 

“Oh, I’m so mean, aren’t I?” She cooed softly, cupping your face to lay her lips against yours, leaving you with the taste of her chapstick against your tongue before she slipped away into the kitchen. The sounds of her filling up three different cups of water told you all that you needed to know, and begrudgingly you attempted to rise to your feet and follow her, wanting to help complete the routine she’d set for herself when you’d first moved in, but Wanda grabbing at your waist kept you confined to the living room and her presence alone. 

“Nu uh, we’re not playing duckling tonight.” She teased softly, her fingers adorned with glimmering silver rings slipping beneath the shirt you’d stolen from her closet after you’d showered off the salted pool water that tarnished your softness, her blunt nails raking trails down your skin as she held you, keeping you from seeking out Natasha like you’d sought out to do. “You gonna come cuddle with me? Or am I not as good as Natty?” There was a wrinkle of lightness in her tone, a clear indication that she found great amusement in your clinginess that had been directed at her through the past season of bikinis and designer sunglasses. 

“Not as good.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, although you melted into her within the same breath that you turned down her proposition, which prompted an affectionate chuckle and a kiss to be laid against your head. “Want Natty.” You grumbled, mindlessly grabbing at the hand that laid draped against your lap, keeping you pinned against her chest. 

“Natty’s coming back. You’re stuck with me in the meantime.” She laughed, humming softly when you lifted her hand to your lips and kissed at each glimmering knuckle, the cool metal against your lips a refreshing addition of stimulation, although that quickly found a way to become a reason for you to wrap your tongue around her pointer finger and give an experimental suckle. “Ah, so that’s your problem. My sitcoms still boring you, detka?” Wanda teased, playfully pressing down against your tongue, startling you as you gagged softly in response, wide eyes flittering upward to meet hers. 

You nodded softly, a crinkle in your nose an amusing sight as you sat entangled with her limbs, teeth nibbling affectionately on her pointer finger, not willing to let it go. “Well, let's fix that then, hm?” You whined softly when she removed her finger from your possessive hold, but sank two in place of the one that you’d clung to, pacifying your restlessness. “There we go, that’s better isn’t it, moya lyubov?” 

You nodded softly, sinking further into Wanda, mindlessly watching whatever sitcom had stolen both her and Natasha’s interest as you suckled and chewed on her fingers. When Natasha came back, you hardly noticed, too entranced with the sensation of cold metal against your tongue. 

“It sucks not having you both home with me, but I can get used to this.” She sighed softly, her hand coming to rest on your thigh, keeping you pinned between their bodies equally. 

[naughtyneganjdm]

Sharing Father and Son

Summary: After a physical hunt, you finally invite John Winchester into your bed, but you get more than you asked for when Dean comes back and gets involved.

Characters: John Winchester, Dean Winchester & reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59479396

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, female reader, threesome, double penetration, unprotected p in v, ass play, age gap, no use of Y/N, etc.

Notes: This is day 2 to go with this kinktober list. The prompt I used was double penetration. When I started this fic, Dean and John were winning the pool so that's why I chose this duo. Credit for the gifs @jdmorganz & @spacedean

In the darkness you laid waiting. A strange smell was coming from the heater that was barely blowing out any hot air, leaving you cuddling the comforter closer to your body. Today you had done something bold. Something you never thought you would have the strength to do. After going on a hunt with John that was very physical, you decided that you wanted to give yourself to him. So when John went to take a shower in the room that was connected to yours, you wrote him a note and left it on the table for him to find when he got back. You made sure to put the corner of the note under the bottle of whiskey so he would certainly see it. John always drank himself to sleep every night so you knew he wouldn’t miss it.

Lately, you had been spending a lot of alone time with John. Especially with Dean trying to prove himself to his father and him going off on his own for hunts. Sam was away at college and truthfully? You looked forward to it just being the two of you.

You were a fellow hunter that teamed up with John and Dean after a group of vampires killed your family. The boys had empathy for you being alone, so they taught you everything they knew and trained you. You were Dean’s age, but there was something about John that drew you to him. When Dean was around, you tried to hide your feelings for John. You didn’t want to make it weird since you were the same age as Dean. When you’d flirt with John, a lot of the time he’d flirt back. On the nights he had a few drinks in him, that’s when John’s confidence seemed to come out more. Maybe it was just because he was more relaxed, but the things he would say to you when the two of you were flirting would warm you to the core. Many nights you wished he would take you, but it often led to John falling asleep with a bottle of alcohol in his hand.

Tonight, you just wanted more. So you finally made it known.

After you left that note for John, you went back to your room leaving the connecting door between the two rooms unlocked. You stripped out of your clothes, turned the lights off and laid at the center of the bed.

Your note was very direct.

I want you. I’ll leave the door unlocked. I’ll be naked underneath the blankets.

It felt like things were taking too long. And that left you having second thoughts. Maybe John didn’t have those kind of feelings toward you. Maybe he would just flirt back with you not to make you feel bad about yourself. The longer you waited, the more you wondered if you should have just put your clothes back on and went to explain yourself to John.

Right as you went to pull the blankets back, the sound of the door pushing open was heard. Your blood rushed through your veins with excitement. Nothing was said. It was so dark in the room with the heavy curtains covering the windows that you couldn’t see him. You just heard him. That was something you were starting to regret.

The sound of something dropping to the floor was heard causing you to let out a nervous breath. There was a dip at the bottom of the bed and you felt the blankets being pulled up at the bottom. A cool rush of air surrounded you, but it was soon replaced by the warmth of a body crawling up the bed from the bottom.

Rough fingertips dragged across your ankle toward the inside of your leg. Immediately it drew chills through your body. With him coming in here? That meant he wanted you too. Tipping your head back into the pillows, you felt the warmth of breath hovering over you. A faint brush of lips was felt at your knee. The short stubble scratched at your flesh and you liked the way that it felt.

You wanted to speak, but he seemed determined on something else. Each kiss grew stronger as it led up over the inside of your thigh. There was a wetness that was left over your skin and you licked your lips. More than anything you wished you could watch him, but the idea that you couldn’t see seemed to enhance the sensation of his kisses over your flesh. So maybe this was a good thing.

Gasping, you felt arms hooking under your thighs to pull you down toward the center of the bed closer to him. The force his hands had on your flesh was strong and you were surprised how eager he seemed for this. Licking your lips, you lifted your head with the warmth of his breath lingering over your most personal parts. His right arm released one of your legs, pushing at your thigh to separate your legs enough for him to be able to bury his head between your thighs.

A few stray kisses were pressing further up the inside of your thigh until he found your core. Kiss after gentle kiss covered your folds with him taking his time. By the time his tongue dragged a strip out over the length of your sex, he had you trembling with anticipation. Focusing on the buildup was not something that you pictured John doing, but he was. When his tongue met your clit, it circled your sensitive bundle of nerves with soft circles at first. Growing in strength with each circle of his tongue led to him slurping at the small nub.

Moaning out, your hips lifted toward him wanting to feel more of that, but his left arm was still hooked around your other thigh keeping you locked in place. Stretching your arms up, you balled the material of the blanket in your fingers squeezing tightly. Each stroke of his tongue grew stronger focusing for a while on your clit until he turned his attention onto your folds sucking at them and giving them a small nibble.

Your breathing grew broken, your eyes slamming shut with him drawing a long line down from your clitoris to your entrance. Teasing at the tight hole had you whimpering out, your fingers squeezing even harder at the blankets. Prodding at your entrance with his tongue, he slurped and sucked before dragging the length of his tongue back up toward your clitoris to do the same dance with his tongue.

That’s where he focused for a while, his mouth working hard at the bundle of nerves. Switching from his mouth to his fingers to circle it with a bit of pressure. He was working to get you to an orgasm first and you appreciated it. You were enjoying what he was doing very much and you were letting him know with the sounds he was drawing out from you.

Crying out, your hips were rocking into his movements with your thighs twitching. You were right on the edge of your orgasm and he could tell by the way you were breathing. The strength of his tongue grew with him burying his head further between your thighs. It didn’t take long before you were shuddering beneath him, your thighs tremoring from what he had done to you.

Releasing the blanket, you licked your lips and tried to catch your breath. Fuck. That was good. Soon he was kissing up the lengths of your body. Over your abdomen, between your breasts and then over the side of your neck. Bracing his weight over your body, you felt the warmth of his breath lingering over your lips and you leaned up toward him wanting him to kiss you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” the familiar voice breathed against your lips causing your body to immediately tense up. You knew that voice, but the only problem? That wasn’t John Winchester.

“Dean?” you blurt out his name hearing the confused breath that followed.

“Yeah?” Dean’s raspy voice replied back. Involuntarily, without thinking, you immediately pushed into the center of his chest shoving him back. Scrambling for the light, you flicked it on and when you met the green-eyed stare of John’s son you let out a small scream. It had Dean jumping up from the bed, standing beside it. He was shirtless only wearing his jeans that were hanging low at his hips. The room was spinning around you as you buried your face in your hands. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s going on?” the door swung open with John soaked standing in the doorway clinging tightly to the worn-down white towel that he had grabbed from the bathroom. Coming to a quick halt, John’s eyes fell upon your bare breasts that were revealed with the blanket hanging at your waist and color flooded into his face. “Oh, wow…”

Tugging the blanket up, you covered yourself wishing that the world would just open up and swallow you whole. Lifting your stare, you saw that John was looking to Dean expecting some kind of answer. Dean threw his hands up in the air, his jaw flexing in panic. Having a nearly naked John soaking wet, only holding the towel that he had grabbed together with his hand and a shirtless Dean in your room made you feel lightheaded.

“Does someone want to tell me what’s going on, or…?” John finally spoke up, reaching up to brush his fingers through his wet hair to slick it back.

“I got the note you left for me,” Dean explained pulling the note you left for John out of his back pocket. Holding it up, it had John’s eyes narrowing trying to read what it said. “I don’t understand, why did you just scream?”

“Damn it,” you scoffed under your breath hating that you were being put in this position. “I didn’t leave that note for you, I left it for him.”

Pointing to John had Dean’s face going completely pale, his eyes growing wide as he looked to John, “Him? My dad?”

“I didn’t even know you were going to be back today Dean,” you claimed with guilt eating away at you over what just happened. John stepped forward to snatch the note from Dean’s fingers to read it. A raspy laugh fell from John’s lips that he tried to hide by biting down on his bottom lip. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” John confessed with a wrinkle of his nose looking between the two of you. “Come on, I thought it could be something bad. Demons. Vampires. Something else. This? This is at least a little amusing.”  

“It’s not,” Dean snapped, his chest rising and falling heavily. By his reaction, he was offended that the note you left was for his father and not him. “I thought dad told you that I was coming back tonight and you missed me.”

“I mean, I missed you, but…” your eyes lingered back to John, your stare dropping down to the top of his towel making your mouth go dry. “It was meant for him.”

“You…you want to be with my dad?” Dean blurt out, his face scrunching up in disgust looking between you and John. You were embarrassed, but at the same time your body was still euphoric off the orgasm that Dean had got you to before everything fell to shit. “But, you’re my age.”

“I know,” you whispered noticing that John was really quiet in the moment. His hazel eyes were shifting as if he was contemplating things. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought you were attracted to me. We kissed several times,” Dean reminded you of your past together with the years that you spent alone. “I’ve been crushing on you this whole time and I thought you were playing hard to get. I thought the time away from me…”

“This doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” John interrupted Dean, holding his finger up to silence his son. “We can actually make a very good thing happen from this.”

“How?” Dean panted, his hands resting at his hips while he tried to catch his breath. “I just found out the woman that I’m jonesing for wants to fuck my dad. I can’t imagine how weird that is for you since she’s my age.”

“Well…” John paused to think about what to say next, his eyes fixating on you again. “I wouldn’t have turned her down if I found the note first Dean.”

“Come again?” Dean threw his head about dramatically with John sucking at his bottom lip. “The two of you…you want to…?”

“I do,” John admitted with a grunt, carefully closing the door behind him. Switching on the main light, John cleared his throat and waved his hand about in the air. “So you want me?”

You nodded.

“What about mom?” Dean stammered to find words, his eyebrows furrowed with John muttering something under his breath.

“Your mom is dead, Dean. I will love her until the day I die and I will do everything to avenge her, but…” John let his words linger, his head tipping from side to side. “I am a man…and she’s a beautiful woman. We all have needs.”

It went silent in the room. Dean didn’t know how to handle that. But you were thankful John was fighting for this.

“How about a two for one deal?” John reasoned having Dean let out an overwhelmed exhale. “You obviously have some kind of attraction for Dean. Would you be against having both of us?”

“Dad?” Dean tried to get his father’s attention with John holding his hand up to silence Dean.

“I mean…” you started, taking a look between both of them. Dean was breathing heavily, undoubtedly worked up and confused. After what Dean had just done to you, he proved that he was ultimately talented with his mouth. That was the honest to god truth. “I wouldn’t say no. It’s Dean that I would worry about.”

“You like the girl, right?” John commented, stepping further into the room, shrugging his broad shoulders. “This way you get to be with her. We both do.”

“Yeah, but you’re my dad,” Dean stressed, his eyes narrowing and he dramatically bobbed his head about. “That’s…that’s kind of weird.”

“It’s bonding,” John came up with the first thing he could think of and it made you smile. John was trying to come up with an idea to make this work for everyone and honestly? You didn’t hate it. “It’s a father and a son sharing…”

Swallowing down hard, John moved over to the side of the bed lowering down on it. Extending his hand out, he grabbed the blankets and pulled it down over your body letting the blanket rest at your hips. Your naked upper half was on display and you were okay with it.

Stretching out his long fingers, John palmed in over your abdomen. Dragging it up over your breast, he cupped it firmly in his large hand and it had Dean’s cheeks flushing over with color, “If you want to leave, you’re welcome to, but I think you’d be missing out.”

Giving his son a final glance, John turned toward you, using his free hand to curl his finger in underneath your chin to get you to raise your head up. Claiming your lips in a forceful kiss took your breath away. Your eyes came to a slow close with the way he took you in that moment. You had always wanted to kiss John, but never had the guts to do it. Now with his lips caressing over yours, you were eagerly kissing him back enjoying the taste of him. Surprised, you felt his tongue forcing its way into your mouth to brush against yours and you lifted your hand to hook your fingers into his wet hair.

“Good girl,” John growled when his lips pulled away from yours, capturing your jaw between his thumb and index fingers. Stealing a quick look back at Dean, John knew that by the expression over his son’s face he was lost in contemplation. “If this weirds you out too much, you’re welcome to leave.”

In that moment, John’s hand lowered with his thumb circling over your nipple causing it to grow into a hard bud. He was so nonchalant about the way he was doing things. It had Dean’s eyes following the movement with his lips parting.

After taking a minute to consider, Dean’s hands rested at his hips and he nodded, “You would want both of us? And you’re okay with that?”

“I am,” you admitted right as John lowered down again to start covering the side of your neck with wet kisses. His left hand wrapped around your throat in a possessive grasp eliciting a hiss from you, but you liked the way that it felt.

With a nod, Dean moved across the room and sat at the other side of you opposite of John. Matching his father’s motions, Dean’s lips pressed in over your jawline pampering your flesh with wet kisses. The grasp John’s hand had on your throat grew stronger having you suck in a sharp breath. A moment later, he was standing up from the bed and Dean stole a quick kiss from your lips. The taste of you still lingered over his lips making you hum.

“Alright sweetheart,” John breathed out, curling his finger in underneath your chin to get you to turn your head toward him. Releasing the grasp he had on the towel had it fall to his feet in a thud allowing his body to be exposed to you. With John still being wet from his shower, the dark curls of hair over his body enhanced the lines of every inch of him. John’s girthy uncut cock was semi-erect and it was big. He also had a nice set of testicles on him too. It took your breath away seeing it. By the look on John’s face you knew he was waiting for you to pleasure him. You could tell by the expecting look in his hazel eyes. Grabbing a hold of the base, John wiggled it a bit bringing your attention to it. “Go ahead.”  

With a smirk you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, throwing your legs over the side. Stepping closer, John allowed you to press lingering kisses at his hips. It had his head tipping back, his long eyelashes fluttering to a close. Nibbling at the soft flesh just under his navel had him releasing an intoxicating growl that spread chills throughout your body.

Shakily reaching up, your fingers curled loosely around John’s manhood giving it a few small strokes. At that moment, you felt the warmth of Dean moving in behind you. A tender caress at your shoulders was felt before he started pampering your flesh with hot, wet kisses. Stepping closer to the bed, John lifted his cock up to your lips dragging it across your lips.

“Be a good girl and open your mouth,” John ordered and you did as he said. Wrapping your lips around John’s cock had him humming out with his fingers sinking into your hair. With flicks of your tongue, you lapped at John’s body enjoying how he seemed to grow harder in your mouth. Purring out against John’s flesh had him moaning out when you felt Dean’s hands drag across the length of your breasts. Dean’s hands were everywhere, touching you and caressing you in attempts to sooth you and make you comfortable. Pulling your lips away from John’s body, you took your time to sheath him in your grasp teasing the flesh back and forth over his growing erection. His hazel eyes watched you closely with you leaning in to kiss at the tip of his cock, sweeping your tongue around the sensitive underside. “That’s it.”

Purring out, you felt Dean’s hand reaching between your thigh to caress over your mound. The sound vibrated against John’s body having him involuntarily arching forward toward you. Dean left tiny nibbles at your shoulder and John led you back toward his arousal. Hooking his fingers around the back of your head helped in leading you to take his cock back into your mouth and down your throat. It was hard to take at first, a slight gagging sound falling from your throat with John groaning out. Thrusting his hips toward your throat had his cock pulling back and pushing forward toward the back of your throat. Wet, slurping sounds were filling the air and John’s manhood was growing harder with every move he made.

“That’s good,” John hummed, pulling you away from his cock by grasping your hair and tugging you back. Stroking his erection in his palm drew attention to the tip and you held your tongue out eliciting a smile from John. Tapping his length against your tongue had an amused rumble of a sound escaping him. Dean’s fingers were working furiously between your thighs and greedily you were rocking your hips against his movements. Dragging your tongue across the slit of John’s manhood left you with the taste of him and you licked your lips. “Dean, get up.”

Snapping his fingers, John pointed to the area beside him. Doing as he was told had you panting out, yearning to be touched again with your hips twitching and your body aching at the loss of friction. Whimpering, John’s firm grasp returned with him getting you to tip your head back. A demanding, breath-taking kiss was stolen from your lips and it had you caressing up over the back of his neck, sinking your fingers into his thick locks. The way his tongue caressed over yours made it feel like the room was spinning around you. As soon as Dean stepped before you, John took his time pulling back, giving your bottom lip a tiny tug and then he dragged his tongue out over the inside of your bottom lip.

Licking his lips when he pulled away, John dragged his thumb over his bottom lip. There was still discomfort in Dean’s features when you looked to him. Undoubtedly this was the first time that he had a threesome with his father and you pictured that’d be uncomfortable for anyone. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw John stroking over his length in sluggish movements. Between the two of them, there were a lot of similarities, but also a lot of differences. John had a lot more hair on his body, whereas Dean was mostly smooth.

Grasping to the loops on Dean’s jeans, you tugged him forward eliciting a gasp from him. Stumbling toward you, Dean swept his fingers in over the side of your face drawing you to close your eyes. Turning your head toward his touch left you appreciating the gentleness of Dean. Kissing at his pulse point took Dean’s breath away and he shuddered. There was a big difference between John and Dean already. John was dirty in the best of ways, but Dean appeared to be more innocent. Then again, did an innocent man really have that kind of talent when going down on someone?

Unhooking the belt in Dean’s pants, you felt a breath catch in your throat with John lowering down beside you on the bed. John was sweeping your hair from your neck, his mouth covering the side of your neck with you pulling apart Dean’s pants. Licking his lips, Dean traced his thumb in over your bottom lip collecting the wetness at your lips. Allowing him to push his thumb into your mouth, you looked up at him with big eyes enjoying the way that it felt between the two of them.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dean commented, his green eyes locked on your movements while you sucked at the tip.

“Fucking gorgeous,” John agreed, his large palm pressing between your thighs causing your eyes to flutter to a close. Shifting your hips forward and opening your thighs gave room for John to caress and touch you as he pleased.

Parting the material of Dean’s jeans, you tried to focus yourself. Sliding your hands down over his hips, you grabbed at his jeans tugging them down firmly. The movement had Dean’s hard cock bouncing free from behind the confinements. Unlike John, Dean was already rock solid with his erection throbbing. Which honestly made since after everything the two of you had already gone through before John showed up. Like his father, he was uncut and big. Not as thick as John, but still impressive. It visibly ran in the family.

The way it bobbed in front of you had your mouth watering. Like you had done with John, you curled your fingers around Dean’s length, stroking it while you peppered his hips with wet kisses. Gasping, you felt your body being pulled forward toward the edge of the bed. It had you falling back on your elbows. John had lowered himself between your thighs and Dean had knelt on the corner of the bed to make it easier for him to trace the tip of his cock over your lips. Drawing your mouth open further, you allowed Dean to press his hips forward to sink his cock between your lips. Dragging your tongue along the smooth length of his cock had Dean dropping his head back and moaning out.

John now had situated himself between your legs, his rough palms caressing over the fleshy part of your thighs. It was hard to focus with John’s kisses growing closer to your core, but you did your best to stroke over Dean’s body at the same pace that your mouth was moving over his length. By the time that John’s mouth met your center, it was easy to tell that he was much rougher than Dean was. Closing your eyes, you hummed against Dean’s cock getting him to shudder on his knees before you. Bracing himself with his free hand on the bed, Dean lowered just enough to help start thrusting his hips forward drawing his cock further into your throat.

Wet slurping sounds surrounded the both of you between John eating you out and you giving Dean a blowjob. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see John shaking his head from side to side. Pulling back every so often to lick his lips. John was feasting on you like he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Growls were escaping his throat, his tongue lapping at your entrance having you crying out.

One of John’s long, slender digits circled your entrance before pushing forward into your warmth. Cooing out, you watched John pumping his finger inside of you at a steady tempo. Joining the first, John inserted a second finger rubbing them up against your g-spot. Dropping his head back between your thighs, John’s lips latched to your clit, slurping and suckling at the sensitive bud.

“Rest back,” Dean urged you getting you to lay back against the bed. Bracing his hands on the bed, Dean used his right hand to urge his cock back to your lips. Opening up, you knew you were shaking with what John was building up inside of you. Sinking his member back into your mouth had Dean moaning out at the heat that surrounded him. Being careful at first, Dean was thrusting his hips working to fuck your throat while John pleasured you.

It was hard to breathe, but you were doing your best with your hands squeezing up and over Dean’s hips. Tremoring, you began to realize the pressure that John was flooding you with. The pit of your belly was tingling, your hips arching up toward every caress of his tongue. Moaning out sent vibrations throughout Dean’s body with his cock down your throat. A wet sound filled the air with a growl from John having you pulling your hips up and away from him. Pushing into Dean’s hip gave him the hint he needed to let you have a minute with you rolling onto your side. Your body was shaking, your thighs twitching and your eyes slammed close.

“Oh, she’s gonna be fun,” John stammered, getting up from the bed and reaching for you. Moving you to the center of the bed, John gave Dean a quick look and cleared his throat. “Why don’t you go first?”

“Yeah?” Dean confirmed with John who gave him a confident nod. Crawling in over you, Dean attempted to get you to open your eyes. Whimpering out, your breathing was broken and your body was still high off of what John had done to you. “Look at me beautiful.”

Forcing your eyes open, your heart skipped a beat at the way that Dean was looking at you. Even though this whole thing was meant for John, you weren’t really losing out in getting Dean either. He was gorgeous and the way he looked at you took your breath away.

“I’m gonna go grab something,” John announced pointing back toward the door that connected your rooms together. There was a kick to his step, but before you could say anything to beckon him back, Dean’s hand palmed in over the side of your face getting your eyes to connect with his.

This was never a way you pictured yourself with Dean. Yeah, the two of you had kissed in heat of the moment situations or when you were both drunk, but you never saw it going any further than that. But now with the warmth of Dean’s naked body over yours, you realized that this was actually happening.

Bracing himself on his left hand, Dean allowed his hand to trace down over your side, down over your hip and to your thigh. Chills flooded your body with the way it felt, your breath catching in your throat with the way he looked at you. It was safe to say that you were looking at Dean in a completely new light.

“You have no idea how long I’ve dreamt of doing this,” Dean breathed, his words vibrating against your lips with you arching up toward him wanting him to kiss you. An arrogant smirk tugged at his lips and it was a smile that you had seen so many times before on John. Bringing your lips together in a heated sweep, Dean reached between the two of you leading himself to your entrance. With a push forward of his hips, the tip entered you causing you to moan out and drop your head back into the pillows further. Dean’s lips found their way to your jawline, peppering your skin with wet kisses that felt incredible.

Dean’s forehead pressed forward against yours, pushing forward agonizingly slow until he filled you completely. It had your hips arching up toward his, your body trembling at the way it felt with him inside of you. Your lips were agape, your fingers caressing into Dean’s shoulders until his hips pulled back. Each movement was dragged out with Dean thrusting forward and then back. Everything was brand new so you felt like Dean was taking his time to cherish the way your warmth felt around him. Footsteps were heard and you clung to Dean, looking beyond the bed to see that John was returning to the room. Setting down what he had grabbed on the corner table, John smirked seeing you biting down on your bottom lip as Dean’s movements grew faster. Sharp breaths were falling from your throat, your eyes locked on John’s while his son fucked you. Dropping his hand down, John curled his fingers around his swollen erection sheathing the skin in his fist as he jerked himself off.

With your eyes still locked on John, you kissed at the side of Dean’s face moaning in his ear as his thrusts became more pronounced with his hips smacking up against yours.

“Alright Dean, don’t be greedy,” John slurred, moving over beside the bed to hint to Dean that it was time to switch up. With a frown, Dean pulled his hips away from yours leaving you with a whimpering sound. It didn’t take long for John to reach for you, pulling you to the edge of the bed. Positioning himself between your thighs, he got on his knees at the edge of the bed hooking his arms under your knees to pull your legs up over his thighs. “You’ve been a real tease, you know that?”

Licking your lips, you lowered your stare to watch John grabbing a hold of his erection, tapping the swollen tip against your clit. Purring out, you arched your hips up toward John hearing him hum in appreciation. Tracing his cock over the length of your sex, John took his time to admire your body stretched out before him. Lining his body up with your entrance had you sucking in a sharp breath of air. With a firm smack forward, John thrust inside of you with a wet sound. Unlike Dean who took his time, John forced you to take all of him. Whining out, your body arched at the stretching feeling his thick cock left you with.

“Now that’s a beautiful sight,” John hummed, licking his lips at the way his cock looked inside of you. Pulling his hips back dragged out his girthy cock just to the tip. Hooking his arms tightly around your thighs, John smacked forward again. It had your breasts bouncing with the force, your cries flooding the air. Repeating the motion again and again, John kept his right arm hooked firmly around your thigh while the left outstretched to cup one of your breasts in his large palm. Circling his thumb in over the nipple, with his head tipping back.

“Does that feel good?” Dean whispered, the warmth of him pressing in beside you and you felt his lips kissing at your jawline. Nodding, you couldn’t form words. You just turned your head to the side and met Dean in another hot, lingering kiss. John’s thrusts seem to grow stronger having you wince against Dean’s mouth. Dropping his right hand, Dean’s fingers connected with your clit trying to match the pace his father’s hips were making. Cooing out, you bit at Dean’s bottom lip giving it a firm tug enjoying the moan that you got from Dean.

“I have an idea,” John announced, pulling his body from yours swiftly leaving you with the worst empty, aching feeling that you could imagine. Breathing loudly, your heart was hammering in your chest while Dean’s fingers continue to caress over your sensitive folds. Heading to the table to grab what he had brought in, John waved his finger about and nodded toward the bed. “Get on your hands and knees.”

Doing as you were told, which you often did when John gave you an order, you shakily pulled yourself up. It was harder than you thought it would be with the way your body was tremoring. Bracing yourself, you looked over your shoulder when you felt someone palming down between your shoulder blades over the length of your spine. It was John who was gazing over your body. His erection bounced with his movement when he palmed down over your hips to give them a firm squeeze.

With John behind you, Dean worked himself before you to lower himself down on the bed. Motioning you to lower down, Dean curled his fingers around the back of your neck and led your mouth back to his length. This time you took him eagerly between your lips, working to bob your head in steady movements over his manhood.

“You have such a beautiful ass,” John growled, his hands squeezing at your fleshy bottom. Giving it a firm spank had you moaning against Dean’s cock and his head dropped back with a throaty groan. Another spank had your hips bouncing forward and then back against John. The sensation of his cock pressing against your bottom was there as he palmed and squeezed at your flesh once more. Pulling your lips from Dean’s arousal with a wet popping sound, you purred out with John kissing at your lower back and his hands caressing at your thighs. Lowering down behind you, John squeezed at your fleshy bottom, separating the flesh so he could drag his tongue in a long strip along the length of your sex. Focusing on your entrance, John’s tongue flicked, plunged and he slurped at your flesh. Kissing at the tip of Dean’s cock, you tried to focus on continuing to give him a blowjob but you felt John’s tongue drag out against your tight pucker and it made you whimper. Looking back, you saw John pushing apart your cheeks while his tongue focused on your ass eliciting a whine from you. It was a strange sensation that you had never done before, but you didn’t hate it. It had your body tremoring, your hips bouncing back toward him with a growl from John vibrating against your body. Pulling back, John spit causing your hips to bounce forward before he went back to eagerly feasting at your body. Standing up, John yanked your hips back and sank into you again with his thumb circling your tight pucker. Trembling beneath him, your head lowered resting against Dean’s hip with the loud smacking sounds that John’s thrusts were causing. “Do you think you can take the both of us.”

“You mean…” you cooed out with John’s thumb pushing it’s way into the ring of muscle of your tight canal while he continued to pound into your pussy leaving you a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,” John rumbled proudly, sucking in a sharp breath with how good it felt with the warmth of your body surrounding him. By the sounds you were making and the way you were tremoring, it was obvious that you were nearing another orgasm. Right when he got you to the edge, he pulled from your body eliciting an upset whine. “Lay down on your side. Dean, get her comfortable.”

Helping you to roll over onto your side, Dean laid in beside you urging your leg up over his hip. Pressing in closely, Dean reached between the two of you to lead his cock back into your eager body. Arching in closer to Dean, you were still riding off the high of John almost getting you to another orgasm only to keep you from it. Dean’s heavy breaths were warm against your lips while the two of you shared kisses with the bed dipping behind you.

The heat of John’s body moving in behind you had your forehead pressing to Dean’s. Licking at his lips, Dean’s fingers swept over your jawline having you turn your head toward his hand to press a kiss at the center of his palm.

Tender caresses were felt over your fleshy bottom and it surprised you since John had been rather forceful with the way he had done things previously. Looking back over your shoulder, you met John in a passionate kiss. Sliding in closer to you, John reached for the bottle of lube that he had grabbed earlier. Popping open the lid had your heart hammering inside of your chest. Dean’s movements had slowed with his hands dropping to your hips to keep you steady.

“Dean,” you panted, your body aching with the way he was stagnant inside of you. Your body wanted that movement, it needed it. Forcing you forward toward Dean, John’s hands braced at the small of your back. Arching your back, you felt the cool liquid pouring down in over your flesh and closed your eyes tightly when John’s fingers started to stroke and prod over your tight pucker. Wincing, you buried your head against the side of Dean’s neck, panting when John’s fingers entered you. Thrusting again and again to prepare you for what undoubtedly you weren’t ready for.

When John’s fingers pulled from your body, you whined and John hushed you from behind. Again he reached for the bottle to coat his thick cock in the slick fluid. Pressing his hips forward, John brought your bodies together with all of your legs tangling with how you were sandwiched between both him and Dean.

“You’re such a good girl,” John growled, nipping at your jawline giving your chin a small bite. Sucking in a sharp breath of air, you tensed up with the swollen tip of John’s cock at your tight hole. Bouncing your hips up had Dean moaning out and his grasp on your hips grew tighter. “Hey, relax. I would never hurt you. Ever.”

“I know,” you tried to relax yourself, lowering your hips back down. Caressing down over your arm, John’s left hand found yours. Hooking his fingers with yours, he used his right hand to lead himself into your tight opening. A deep rumble of a growl fell from John’s throat as the tip of his cock pushed through the tight ring of muscle. It had you clutching tightly to Dean who whispered calming words in your ear while he pressed kisses against your skin. “John.”

“I know,” John hushed, a raspy moan rumbling against the back of your neck from where he was nuzzling his nose. Reaching back, you grasped a hold of John’s thigh, your fingers digging into his flesh. Using his strength, he pushed forward further having you let out a pained sound. “Do you need me to stop?”

“No,” you realized that your fingers were digging so hard into his skin that he might have thought you needed to. “Just give me a minute…”

“No problem,” John whispered, his hand lifting up to curl his fingers around your throat. Closing your eyes, you appreciated the way that Dean’s lips covered yours. Soon as you were relaxed, you gave John the nod to continue to fill you. The stretch between the two of them was unlike anything you had ever felt before. You had never felt this full before and it was a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Let us know when you’re okay.”

“You can go ahead,” you confirmed for them, swallowing hard bringing more attention to the grasp that was over your throat. Whimpering, you didn’t expect this to feel like it did, but you didn’t hate it. Their movements were uneven at first. Dean faster because you were already used to him inside of you, but John was slower, trying to work you into being comfortable. By the time their tempos matched, it left you a panting mess between them. Their hands were everywhere, touching you and making you theirs. Dean’s moans were short often with his nose buried against the side of your neck and John’s were loud, raspy against the back of your neck or on your shoulder.

The sounds coming from the both of them turned you on more than you could ever imagine. Which honestly probably helped you enjoy this all the more. Lowering your hand, you curled it around John and urged his movements to be harder.

“Are you okay?” Dean whispered, drawing your attention to him by grasping at your chin. With a nod, you knew that you were breathless and you could hardly gather your words. Dean’s mouth claimed yours again, his tongue brushing against yours.

With how paper think these walls were, you hoped that no one was on the other side because none of you were being quiet. The headboard was smacking up against the wall, moans flooding the air. By now your hips were eagerly rocking back between Dean and John taking them in and out of you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” John slurred against the side of your face, his grasp growing tighter to your hips. With how hard he was grasping to your flesh, you wondered if it would leave a mark. Pulling your hand forward, you hooked your fingers with John’s. Nipping at your earlobe, John gave it a small tug before whispering in your ear. “You’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you.”

“Please…” you panted knowing that you were still riding that line of being right on the edge of an orgasm. Realizing what it was you were looking for, Dean started to bounce his hips harder against you. It had you rocking back harder toward John so every pull and push of their cocks was not only harder, but faster inside of you.

The smacking of John’s lower abdomen against your ass grew louder until he roared out, pulling out of you and you felt the splashes of his cum covering your ass along with your lower back. Kiss after forceful kissed was pressed at your neck with Dean pulling you closer to him. He was desperate to get you a release as well as himself. Sinking your fingers into his hair, you purred out and tossed your head back when a rush flooded to your temples. Covering your lips with his, Dean’s moans became more frequent with him pulling his hips back and thrusting his hand over his length until he covered your lower abdomen with his release.

Dropping down beside you, the three of you laid out at the center of that bed trying to catch your breath. John’s arm possessively wrapped around your waist with Dean’s arm stretched out across your shoulders. For a long time, you were all quiet. Saying nothing because what else was there to say? You were all riding off the high of your orgasms.

“It’s going to be weird from here on out, isn’t it?” Dean lifted his head, his messy hair in his eyes while he looked you over.

“Only if you let it be,” John snorted, turning his face further into his pillow with a huff. “Don’t ruin a good thing Dean. Shut up.”

An involuntary laugh fell from your lips. It got you a glare from Dean, but you were impressed that John wasn’t going to let this change anything. You didn’t want anything to change. The only thing that maybe you hoped would possibly change was getting to sleep with them on occasion. Other than that? This was the perfect scenario for you and you loved it.

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @pixelb4rbie @ibelongtonegan

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@sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf

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[mrsshabana]

𝐙𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐄!𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 ⛧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary As a modern-day witch, you're used to encounters with the supernatural. But when your crush suddenly dies in an accident you act on a whim and bring him back to life, turning him into an undead monster. Will you be able to make him feel alive again? ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, witchcraft, gore, body horror, violence ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.3k words. This story was inspired by American Horror Story Coven.

༺ Art ༻

⇢ Chapter two ⇢ Chapter three ⇢ Kinktober Masterlist

Things were never supposed to happen this way.

You had good intentions, but you didn't think things through. God, you should have thought twice.

But you couldn't not do it. The only reason he died was because he fell for you. A cursed girl.

Gyutaro worked at the local plant nursery where you shopped weekly. He wasn't the type for customer service, but he liked seeing you. Always going out of his way to order rare plants and materials for you.

You are a witch after all, so his assistance was very helpful for you and your coven. Of course, Gyutaro didn't know you were a witch, he just thought you were a cute girl who liked the shop. He never thought much about why you came in so often.

Besides, he only worked there because they were chill and didn't care that he would come to work smelling like weed.

He was a strange guy, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a crush on him. Those pretty birthmarks and that crooked smile were too much for your heart to resist.

But everything changed when you found out about the accident. One night when he was driving home from work, his motorcycle was hit by a semitruck.

An accident like that doesn't happen every day. It was no coincidence, and you knew it.

Being a witch has its perks, but there are also cons as well. Every boy that's ever loved you has died a tragic death. If only you knew how much he liked you, you would have stopped coming around. But it's too late now.

That poor, sweet boy died because he fell in love with a witch. You couldn't let this be his fate. Maybe he was just some shop employee but he was so much more than that to you.

And that's what caused you to make the rash decision to perform a resurrection ritual. You've only ever resurrected small animals, so this was very new to you.

There was no turning back after you broke into the morgue. Reattaching his body parts and sewing them back together. The accident must have been horrific for his body to have been separated into so many pieces. At least piecing him back together wasn't too hard, the pieces were easy to identify since they had those pretty black spots on them.

At first, you thought the ritual didn't work. After blowing out your candles and double checking you did everything correctly, his body still lay there motionless and cold.

You didn't realize you had been there for so long until an employee came in to start their shift for the day. Quickly hiding behind a metal table, you tried to stay out of sight.

The poor guy wasn't ready for what he saw. In his eyes, it seemed like some kind of devil worshippers broke in and desecrated the body.

He shouldn't have gotten so close.

Maybe it was the smell of fresh flesh that awoke him, or maybe he sensed that his summoner was in danger. Who knows? But Gyutaro opened his eyes and attacked the man. Animalistic as he sunk his jagged teeth into the man's throat.

"Gyutaro, stop!!" You tried to pull him away but there was no use. The warm blood entering his cold dead body was too much to turn away from.

Eventually, you were able to pull him away and coerce him out of the building. And that leads you to where you are now. Desperately trying to lead him into your apartment without any of your neighbors noticing.

He moans and groans as he struggles to walk. Some parts of his body were more decomposed than others, so it'll take a while for them to work properly again.

Somehow you manage to get him inside, helping him onto the couch so he can rest.

Seeing him in this state, a bloodthirsty monster, barely able to control his body, and unable to speak. That's when the regret starts to set in. Maybe he's suffering more now that he's been resurrected. At least in death, he was at rest.

Tears prick at your eyes as you begin to clean the blood off of him.

"Gyutaro... do you remember me? Y/N? I was one of your customers."

He groans and stares at you, "...Y...Y..." He mumbles the beginning of your name but he isn't able to push the word out.

Feeling relieved that he seemingly remembers you, you go on to explain the situation to him. "I don't know how to say this... but Gyutaro, you died. You were in a terrible accident. Do you remember what happened?"

"..." He's silent as his mismatched eyes dart around. Then out of nowhere he begins to yell, banging his arms on the couch, grabbing things off the end table and throwing them across the room in a fit of frustrated rage.

"Hey, hey calm down!" You try to calm him down but to no avail.

He screams until his voice is raw. Unable to speak or properly control himself, his tantrum intensifies. There's nothing you can do as he's far too strong to restrain. So you just let him let it all out until he's left tired and full of so many emotions he isn't able to express in his new form.

Seeing him now, you aren't even sure if he's Gyutaro anymore. How much of him is left in there? Maybe you only created a monster in the shape of the boy you once loved. But either way, this monster is now your responsibility.

You try giving him time to adjust to his new life, but the tantrums keep coming. Bursts of anger ensue when he gets frustrated. He feels like he's trapped inside of a body that barely works. Deep down he knows how to function, but he just can't. Not to mention the nothingness he feels inside. He feels like a walking husk of who he used to be, completely hollow and empty.

Not only is he emotionally numb, but physically too. Whether his arm falls off because the stitches came undone, or he stabs himself because he gets curious about what would happen. He doesn't feel a thing.

You're the only exception. As soon as your fingers grace his cold discolored skin he feels a spark of warmth. A sensation so pleasant that he can't help but crave it. In a body full of nothingness, your touch is the only thing that makes him feel alive again. He just wishes that he could tell you.

Countless nights you've spent researching spells and remedies to help ease him. Some books say he needs human flesh. Others say you must give him some of your life force. Some suggest doing something to get his blood pumping again, something to kickstart his instincts. But nothing comes to mind.

Not until he limps his way into your bedroom one night as you're researching.

The thuds of the zombie boy's footsteps get louder as he walks towards you.

"What is it, Gyu? Are you hungry again?" You turn and give him a soft smile, "Remember, no eating people-"

He interrupts you with a low groan like he has something he wants to tell you.

"Y-Y/N..." he barely mumbles your name.

"Yes? Do you need me to do something?" You say as you get up from your desk to stand in front of him, ready to help him with whatever he needs.

He looks down at you, his undead eyes glossed over. With slow and jagged movements he grabs your wrist and places your hand on his chest. "F-Fe...eel... al-ive..."

Your eyes widen as you feel his heart weakly begin to beat under your touch, "Y-You feel alive when I touch you?"

He nods slowly, "Tou...ch... mo-more..."

[astarioffsimpmain]

Consternation

Astarion x F!Reader

Warnings: Explicit violence; gore; mentions of abuse

Synopsis: Astarion realizes that Cazador is no longer his worst fear

Author's Note: This is my first ever Astarion fic, and I have to thank the members of the Astarion fandom that I have met thus far. This fic would not exist without your encouragment. <3

It was foreign to him, this fear. This icy chill that rattled his bones struck him deep at the core and unsettled him in a way that had him desperate to both pace ceaselessly and never move again. Oh, he had felt fear. It had been his constant companion since he was taken by Cazador; often his only companion as he writhed in the dark, his eyes open but nothing behind them. 

But this… 

He watched as Karlach carried you back to the campsite. You were bloodied almost beyond recognition, your heartbeat barely reaching his sensitive ears. It was his fault. You and he had argued last night; it was petty. He had been petty. He used the words that he knew would hurt you, and you, too spent after a grueling day to see through his act, had retreated to your own tent to seek out sleep in painful solitude. But sleep had not come. He'd seen it in your eyes this morning when you emerged from your tent, squinting and glaring up at the sun as though it was your enemy, and not his. 

And when you, he, and Karlach had gone out in search of food and firewood, you had been too slow, too fatigued, and too distracted to guard yourself from the attack. Orcs. They were a vicious bunch, springing on the three of you from the thicket near the base of the mountain range where you hunted, and while he and Karlach had suffered several minor injuries before winning out, you took a blow far more damaging. One of the orcs had taken you by surprise and bludgeoned you in the side of the head with its club before gaining the upper hand and stepping down hard on your ribs. 

He'd been focused on the orc in front of him until he heard the crunch. The sound was so grotesquely familiar to him that time nearly stopped as he swiveled his head in your direction. No. You lay flat on your back, your body bent in several unnatural directions, as the orc stood over you triumphantly, raising its club to finish the job. Your head lolled to the side and your unharmed eye met his and he shuddered, his breath catching in his throat. You didn't look scared. You didn't even look angry. He knew that expression. He'd seen it on your beautiful face as the moon bathed you in ethereal glow, the night he confessed his feelings to you. The night he surrendered his mask of flippant indifference and let you see him for who… for what he truly is. You had looked at him with such- such love, that night, so much that he thought he wouldn't be able to bear it. 

But now? Now he would trade the air in his lungs and every day of freedom he had left to be there with you on that night again. He would rather surrender himself to his master than watch you die because of him, and still look at him with love. 

It wasn't even him that had managed to save you in the end. It was Karlach, who had all but rammed the orc off of the top of you before gathering you up in her arms and running back towards camp. He had stood in a useless, pitiful daze, and had your tiefling companion not been there to end the last of the orcs before saving you, he would have been quick to join you at death's door. He remained useless as he followed Karlach back to the camp where Wyll, Shadowheart and Gale rushed off in the directions of their tents to see if they had something that could help you. Lae'zel had let out a bloodthirsty cry upon seeing you, demanding the blood of whoever or whatever had attacked you. Once Karlach told her the story, she posted herself at the edge of the campground, circling to prevent any more surprises. 

Everyone was doing something. Everyone but him. All he could do was sit beside you with his cool hands running over your body, trying desperately to cool you down. Your face was marred nearly beyond recognition, and the blood from your internal wounds had begun to pool just below the surface of the skin on your abdomen, creating angry violet spots all over your soft and beautiful body; the body he had held bare against his not too long ago; the heart he promised to love as wholly and genuinely as he was capable, beating far too weakly inside your chest. Guilt twisted further inside of him. If only he was strong, like you believed he was. If only Cazador didn't haunt his every moment. If only he was truly as free as you made him feel. Perhaps if he was better, stronger, more, he wouldn't have said those things to you. He wouldn't have hurt you, and instead of a sleepless night alone, you could have been wrapped up in him.

But he was foolish; weak; less. And he let his pain seep out like a fresh wound onto you, and now you suffered for it. Up until this very moment he had been under the false illusion that being sent back to Cazador was the worst fate he could possibly endure. How many times did he have to be proven wrong by you before he would listen?! Losing you was the fear he never expected. Losing you was far worse than losing himself, and the realization of that only deepened the already gripping dread in his heart. 

"Please," he whispered softly, leaning over your unmoving form. "Please, gods, stay alive. Even if you hate me forever, please stay alive. Please." His voice cracked as a tear rolled down his cheek and collided with yours. His body trembled as he prayed to gods he wasn't even sure he believed in, wishing for a miracle he didn't really think could happen. What would he do without you? He always insisted that he was his own person, but… was he? Or had he just traded one master for another; the first a master of his body, and the second a master of his heart?

[lurochar]

A Snow Day in Hell

Heeey, anyone else remember that ‘special feeling’ meme from years ago? No? Me either

–----------------------------------------------

Hell had frozen over.

Literally.

It was an extraordinarily and incredibly rare occurrence, according to Charlie, who, a literal native demon born of Hell, had only seen it snow once before in her lifetime.

It generally occurred once every few hundred years, perhaps add or minus a century here or there, Lucifer could not be bothered to keep track when Charlie had asked him how often it actually happened since the snow only stuck around for a day at the very most and was just a minor inconvenience.

You were honestly excited to witness such a unique experience and were dismayed to find that Alastor could care less about such a thing.

And so, you had to pester him and even promised him a favour (his proceeding and chilling smile sent immediate shivers down your spine) just to take a stroll with you around town (and would probably regret when he came to collect that favour).

“Of course, Darling! I have no important tasks to complete today. Why, I would be ever so honoured to escort you to town on such a… lovely day.”

You gave Alastor a skeptical look when he glanced outside with an expression that screamed the opposite of what he was saying.

He clearly hated snow.

“But, seeing my partner beg me in such a pitiful manner – well, how can I possibly say no to that?”

Maybe you should have just asked Charlie? She seemed just as excited as you to see the snowfall.

It took quite a bit of self control for Alastor to not let out a dark chuckle at your varying expressions. You may be his companion, but he was still a sadist through and through. 

Maybe it was a bit soft when it came to you though. Just a little bit.

Besides, as irritating and cold as it was, a little snow, that would literally only last for a day, would never hurt anyone, right?

~00~

“It’ll be on any minute now!”

You covered your face with a pillow in pure embarrassment, unable to look at the screen of the TV as Charlie bounced in excitement. 

How did she find out? 

Ah damn, she already gathered the others to watch.

“W-why are you here?” You barely lifted your face enough to eye Alastor, seeing him sitting smugly in his usual chair. “It was you, wasn’t it?! You told Charlie, didn’t you!?”

“Well, of course I did!” Alastor’s grin was utterly demonic and he was obviously taking pleasure in your mortification. “Normally, I am completely against these awful picture box shows and was utterly baffled when you agreed to a… television interview, Darling, with me when you are completely aware of my distaste.”

“Uh, wait,” Angel Dust raised his arm, “you’re on TV, Smiles? How did they capture you on camera? How’d you not, ya know, blow up the whole network with that whole staticky thing you do? Why is Vox even letting this air?”

Everyone glanced over to Alastor, but he answered nothing.

You had no idea either.

“Oh, it’s on!” Charlie pointed with a wide grin and you slumped over, ready to just pack your bags and leave to save yourself the embarrassment.

On the TV, the scene was that of you and a tall figure that was distorted, blurry, and pixelated, yet was clearly Alastor from shape and colour alone. Honestly, you were surprised he was showing up even this much and not blowing out the camera like Angel Dust had pointed out.

It was a simple question, you were only stopped by the news reporter to ask what you thought of the unprecedented snowfall.

You had just been caught up in the moment, the idea of experiencing the whole once-in-a-lifetime thing with your partner.

So you had replied with something straight out of a Christmas romcom movie or something equally as cheesy. You really had no idea where it came from. Maybe the fact that Alastor had summoned an umbrella and was holding it over both of your heads?

It was mainly so he wouldn’t get snow in his ears, you would find out later.

“Isn’t this just amazing? Snow that falls only every few hundred years? It’s stunning, isn’t it?” Your face was beginning to turn red as you continued on without waiting for another question from the reporter. “Being in the snow with my lover like this immerses me in a special feeling. I love it.”

Oh fuck.

How the fuck could you say that with a straight face!?

It was clear that Alastor felt the shame for you, even through his blurry distorted figure, you could see his ears flatten against his head and his head completely turn away from the reporter like he wasn’t there to hear your cringey words.

“Oh my Satan, are you fucking serious?” The news reporter sneered at you. “I just asked you about some fucking frozen water. Not your version of a romantic date you’ll have in your shitty wet dreams.”

You blinked and the distorted Alastor slowly turned his head back towards the reporter.

“This is fucking Hell, not some Barbieland bulls–”

You couldn’t help it and a few of your more demonic features were showing before you could stop them and you grabbed the umbrella Alastor was still holding. “You asked me a question about snow and I answered and then you make fun of me for that!? So what if I want a romantic outing with my lover!?” You shoved the umbrella’s pole into the gut of the reporter and growl into the camera, hearing the cameraman cry out before it cuts out and the interview is over.

.

.

.

There was complete silence.

“W-well, maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was.” You scratch your cheek, “J-just forget what I sa–”

“Oh, that was so romantic!” Charlie’s eyes were wide and sparkly, “I never knew snow could make you feel that way.” She gasped loudly, looking at Vaggie. “There’s still time! Come on, Vaggie! We need to go out in the snow to ‘immerse ourselves’ in that special feeling!”

Vaggie just throws you a grumpy look before sighing and following after Charlie.

Angel Dust is laughing his ass off, “Special feeling? Seriously, Dollface? Did that cold freeze your brain cells or somethin’? Well, at least ya showed that dick reporter who’s boss. Smiles, over there, did nothin’.”

“I don’t need him to do everything for me.” You muttered, glancing over at Husk and, for once, glad to see he’s too drunk to care and Niffty had lost interest as soon as she saw a cockroach. 

You looked over to Alastor.

“Are you satisfied?” You asked with a sigh, “Watching me embarrass myself and then lose control on the news that’s aired all around Hell?”

Alastor’s grin widened. “Very much so, Darling. Not only have you provided me with great entertainment, but now you have also given me an excuse to go after the one who aired your follies. I do believe I should give my ‘old pal’ a visit quite soon.”

Yeah.

You really should have just asked Charlie earlier.

[charlesslut16]

-Cold hands-

summary : you and charles go outside and wander around but your hands are freezing colf. Charles knows an solution...

PAIRING : charles leclerc x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : I am super late but i hope that you still like it.

december masterlist ; masterlist 

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

The winter chill always found a way to sneak into my fingertips, leaving them icy despite layers of gloves. Charles, your sweet boyfriend, was a beacon of warmth in this frosty season.

His understanding nature always comes through when your hands turn into miniature icicles. Charles was concerned that if you were not warm enough, you would freeze to death.

You were strolling through a winter wonderland, the air crisp and the streets adorned with delicate snowflakes. You tried to tuck your hands into your pockets, but the cold had already seeped in.

Charles, ever observant, noticed my struggle. And immediately he was concerned. He had told you to bring your gloves, but you were too stubborn and went without them outside.

With that heart-melting smile, he gently took your hands in his, his touch a soothing balm against the biting cold. The warmth of his hands enveloped yours like a cozy embrace, instantly thawing away the frosty chill.

He chuckled softly, teasingly calling them "little blocks of ice" while rubbing them gently between his warm palms. His warmth transferred to your frozen fingers, and you couldn't help but marvel at how his touch had the magical ability to make everything better.

As the both of you continued your stroll, Charles intertwined your fingers, holding your hands firmly in his. His caring nature never ceased to amaze you; he would often blow warm air onto your hands or rub them vigorously to bring back the warmth.

The winter landscape seemed even more enchanting with his loving gestures. Charles would occasionally bring your hands to his lips, blowing warm breaths onto them, creating a playful game to banish the cold.

His laughter echoed through the wintry air, filling my heart with joy. The laughter that made you fall in love with him instantly. The moment you heard his laughs, charles had caught you.

At one point, you found yourselves near a charming café adorned with twinkling lights and a welcoming fireplace. You stepped inside, the cozy ambiance embracing you like a comforting hug.

Sitting by the crackling fire, Charles took your hands in his once more, gently rubbing them between his to generate warmth. His thoughtful gestures were as heartwarming as the fire crackling before us.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he suggested a remedy for the chilly hands - a cup of steaming hot chocolate. As you sipped on the rich, velvety goodness, your fingers intertwined around the warm mugs, your laughter mingling with the soft melodies playing in the background.

Laughter, conversation and Christmas movies were playing in the background, making the winter time just so much sweeter. Everyone had their own life, but they came to this café, on this day, just to warm up and drink something warm.

The way Charles cared for you, from warming your hands to just being there, made the winter seem a little less frosty and a lot more magical. His affectionate nature made every moment together feel like a warm embrace on a cold winter's day.

As the both of you bid adieu to the charming café, Charles wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. He enveloped, his girlfriend, in a hug, his warmth spreading through you, making you forget the cold entirely.

With a gentle kiss on your forehead, he whispered,

"I'll always keep you warm, my love."

And at that moment, surrounded by the winter's chill, you knew that with Charles by your side, your heart would forever be aglow with the warmth of his love. The warmth you would never want to miss ever again.

[cvpiddszn]

𝐫𝐮𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐩𝐡 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐥.𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

a/n: not edited, i'm too lazy. maybe ill go back later

summary: nyx asks luke to go on a walk with her to search for a christmas tree and when they get back she begins to notice how bright red luke’s nose is. nyx can’t help but laugh at how adorable he is, her own little rudolph.

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, sexual innuedos

word count: 0.9k

nyx & luke masterlist

"What do you think about this one, Lukey?” I pointed out, my boyfriend silent from behind me. His hand clutched onto mine, squeezing every once in a while. So at least I knew that he wasn’t dead from the cold. Although, I did warn him that there was a cool breeze blowing in.

When I turned around, Luke had his free hand pulled up to his mouth breathing warm air onto his hand and shoving it in his jacket pocket. My brows furrowed, “I told you to bring mitts, and you refused to listen to me.” I scolded, taking my gloves off and handing them to him.

Luke groaned in protest, “Angel, no. I don’t want your gloves. You keep them.” His hand pushed away the gloves offered in my hands, I sighed rolling my eyes before pulling them onto my hands, while he leaned down to kiss my cheek. I shivered at the chill of his lips.

“Fine, but it might help if you put them in my pockets, they’re warmer than yours,” I argued, grabbing onto his hands and turning around before stuffing his hands into my pockets. My boyfriend was leaned down quite a bit just to rest his body against my back, stuffing his head into the open spot between my neck and shoulder. His long legs dragged behind me, sort of like a penguin.

I could smell his cologne which made my heart practically melt, the same expensive shit that he always bought. I had some strange obsession with Luke and his expensive cologne. Maybe it was the fact that he had never changed it since we were fifteen. He had never been so happy to be able to tell me that his parents bought his first expensive cologne and he hadn't changed it since.

We continued to walk through the trees until I settled on one that seemed to catch my eye. I stopped abruptly, causing Luke to stumble into my body but his hold was enough to keep me upright. I eyed the tree curiously, waiting to see if it was going to speak to me.

“Babe, you know that you look fucking crazy looking at that tree as if it’s going to grow legs and start walking and spill all of its secrets.” The brunette pointed out, and I swung my hand back to slap his shoulder gently.

“Luke, don’t be a Grinch. You don’t pick out the tree, the tree picks you.” I spoke, causing Luke to laugh at me. I grinned back at him for a moment before he caught me off guard, pressing his cold lips to mine. His left hand removed itself from my jacket, spinning me around to face him fully, both his hands coming up to my cheeks.

I pulled back from me, breathless and cheeks aflame. “So this is the tree?” I looked up at my boyfriend who grinned at me as if he didn’t just take my breath away. It was insane to so many when I told them that Luke was such a romantic, but he just didn’t like public displays of romance. Sure, his hand always found mine, rubbing small circles or his arm around my shoulders or waist but that was as far as we would go in front of others, but now it was just us and millions of pine trees.

“Whatever you want, angel.” He replied, kissing my cheek before grabbing onto my glove-covered hands and pulling me to one of the employees. My mind spaced out as I watched him admirably, feeling his hands squeezing mine every so often. As if it was a reminder than he knew that I was there.

My stomach filled with butterflies as I couldn’t help the smile on my face. As soon as the employee left to grab the tree, his brows furrowed in confusion as he studied me. “What are you grinning at?”

“You,” I replied immediately.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Luke and I were cuddled on the couch, a blanket covering the both of us. Hot chocolate in our hands, warming them through the mug. It would be a surprise if neither of us caught a cold by the end of the week. 

My boyfriend set his warm drink down, and it wasn’t until that moment that I truly looked at him. I nearly burst out laughing seeing his rosy cheeks but even better was his bright red nose. Instead of laughing, I settled for a smile but Luke paused, narrowing his eyes at me accusingly.

“Why are you giving me that look?” His hand reached under the blanket placing themselves under his sweater that I wore. I shivered at the chill that went down my spine.

“Baby,” I spoke softly, bringing my finger up to poke at his nose, “you look like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” I teased quietly, finding it adorable that his nose was so red. I placed my hands on either side of his face, and he enjoyed the heat of it, eyes closing as he chased the warmth from my fingers. My thumbs rubbed soothingly at his face, hoping to warm him up. 

Luke groaned, diving his body into mine before his head sunk between my shoulder and neck, dragging his nose from side to side of my neck as I shivered. “Lukey, you’re so cold,” I mumbled as his hands gripped onto my bare waist, his hands freezing.

“Just trying to warm up, angel.” He said softly lips pressing at the side of my neck affectionately. “Stay nice and still, have the perfect way to warm up.” Chills covered my body from head to toe, his hands travelled right to my stomach creating patterns as my breath caught in my throat.

His hand lightly pushed against my leggings, pulling them forward to create space as his cold hands travelled further and further down, right to my throbbing heat and right before he dove in, his mouth crashed against mine, silencing any future pleas and moans.

Luke might be cold but I would always be his warmth.

[godidontevenknowwhat]

I've got you

MK1!Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: I only got into MK super recently and I've only played MK1 and MK11 so I apologise for what is probably shitty characterisation idk I just really like Liu Kang okay also I didn't reread before posting sorry

Synopsis: You've felt drawn to Lord Liu Kang since you first met him, he's unlike anyone you've ever met even beyond his abilities. You spend a lot of time watching the man you've become so fond of, seeing how kind and gentle he is, how fierce he is when he needs to be. You've seen the look he gets in his when he looks at earthrealm's champions, when he looks at you.. a sort of melancholy look of longing. During one of your routine tea nights you plan to express your feelings to him.

Fic Includes: NSFW so MDNI, nothing particularly intense this is a lot of ✨romance✨, mentions of relationship between Liu Kang and Reader in MK11 timeline but mostly hinted, p in v, some mention of tears on both parts but it's okay because you've got each other 💕 my writing abilities so watch out, possibly ooc Liu Kang idk I made him a little sad , 2.7k

The subtle aroma of freshly brewed tea fills the air as you carefully pour the steaming beverage from Liu Kang’s beautiful decorative teapot into the matching cups. The man himself is busy behind you, you can hear him filling the firepit in the middle of the main room in the fire temple with fresh wood and you can’t help but turn to watch as he ignites the fire with his powers.

With his back to you, you take the time to look him over. His strong body and broad shoulders, his long inky black hair, the fire dancing along the skin of his tattooed forearms as he sets fire to the tinder in the firepit. 

You find yourself admiring the god of fire more often than not, watching the way he moves and interacts with those around him. The way he treats others is something to be admired surely, every person he speaks to is treated like a precious being and you suppose that might be what comes from living for so long and witnessing so many lives pass by him. A profound love for the human existence that he shows through his every action. 

Sometimes there’s something in his eyes though, something forlorn and melancholy that only appears when he looks at earthrealm’s champions or even when he looks at you. It’s like something takes over him, like for a moment he’s not himself.

You take note of his tense shoulders and when he finally turns to face you there’s a furrow in his brow, he looks like the weight of the world is on his shoulders and you have no doubt in your mind that if he was in a situation where he had to, he would try and take that weight.

“Ah, the tea is ready” Liu Kang takes a seat beside him, picking up his cup and blowing on the tea. He sends you a sweet smile over the rim that melts your heart and reminds you of what you wanted to talk to him about during your teatime together. “Thank you”

He sips his tea but you can’t help but notice that there’s no relief from the calming brew. The furrow between his brow disappeared when he looked at you but the tense coil of his body was still wound tight. 

The chill of the evening air contrasts with the heat from the fire warming your back and the soothing burn of the tea coating your tongue as you think about what to say. Is it enough to ask a god ‘are you okay?’? Would that question seem juvenile to someone like him?

“Liu Kang?” He hums a soft sound of acknowledgment, encouraging you to continue. “I just want to ask.. are you feeling alright? You seem to have a lot on your mind..”

You watch as he thinks your words over, 100 emotions and micro expressions flying over his face as he struggles with how to answer your question. He looks in your direction, almost looking through you as you wait for his reply. 

“Do not waste your time filling your head with my problems, there is no need” The smile that he sends you is soft, subtle and yet it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he continues “I would rather keep my burdens to myself instead of weighing you down with them”

“That..” It takes you a second to gather your thoughts as you look at the man in front of you. Eons of life and wisdom. Was he protecting himself by not opening up fully? Surely he’d had friends in his lifetime, ‘had’ being the optimal word. Was he protecting you? Maybe his problems were truly more than you could handle. 

Again you look him over as he sips his tea, the gentle breeze flowing through his long hair and the glow of the fire highlighting his features creating an image so beautiful that it makes your heart hammer in your chest.

“That sounds.. incredibly lonely Lord Liu Kang..”

You watch the fire god lower his cup, a subtle tremor in his hand that makes your heart clench with guilt and your own hand reach out for him.

His glowing eyes drift to your gentle hand on his own and you notice the tension leaving his shoulders with every second he feels your touch.

“I worry what you would think of me if I told you the truth..” His head bows slightly, eyes drifting shut as if he’s scared to look you in yours.

“Nothing you could tell me would make me think of you any differently Liu Kang..” Your voice is soft, quiet and barely louder than the crackle of the fire. Taking a chance you reach for his face with your free hand, his cheek laying so delicately into your palm as if drawn to it with magnetic force. “Because.. I like you very much, just as you are”

Liu Kang takes a shuddering inhale and when he opens his glowing eyes again there’s a thin veil of tears glossing them over. He looks you over like it's the last time, like he’s trying to memorise every detail of your entire being and you have no idea how true it is. How much Liu Kang has waited for you, wanted for you. How many eons he has spent dreaming of you and how terrified he was when he met the ‘new’ you that you’d yearn for another the way he has always yearned for you.

Fearing that his silence is a kind rejection you begin to turn your head to avoid the gaze of his glowing eyes only to be stopped by the feeling of his large, warm palm catching your cheek to hold you in place. 

Before you can think he pushes forward and his plush lips press against yours. It’s embarrassing how quickly you melt into him, your mind going blank at the feeling of being kissed by a God. By Liu Kang. 

Every movement of his gentle lips against yours and every soft, timid caress of his tongue only serves to hypnotise you further. Reaching out for something to grip onto and support you, you end up with a fistful of Liu Kang’s tantalisingly unbuttoned shirt. Your fingers barely brush against the warm skin of his chest but it's enough to make the God's breathing catch and force him to break away from your passionate kiss.

“I apologise.. I shouldn’t have-”

Liu Kang's words die in his throat as you move your gentle palm to the centre of his exposed chest, you can feel his heart racing under your touch. You have so much you want to say, your mind going a million miles per second trying to figure out how any words are good enough to express how you feel for him.

“The only thing you need to apologise for.. is stopping..”

The combination of your teasing words, sweet smile and the feeling of your soft skin against the heated skin of his chest feels so familiar to him. He feels silly for the tears in his eyes, ashamed of the way one escapes and rolls down his cheek when he realises that he really has you, that he doesn’t have to wait any longer and that you really want him in this timeline just as you did in the last.

A smile spreads across his face, one that reaches his eyes this time and softens them so beautifully. He looks younger like this, less troubled by being protector of earthrealm and, unbeknownst to the version of you that now sits before him, the soft smile on his face is the exact one he gave you so many eons before this very moment. The smile of the man that loved you, lost you, feared he would never have you again and now finally knows he will.

Liu Kang smashes his lips to yours in a kiss so impassioned it makes your head spin, expressing everything he can through his kiss. The way his tongue licks into your mouth makes your skin burn hot enough to rival his own and you worry for a moment that the rapid beating of your heart may be loud enough for him to hear.

Gripping onto you like you’re his lifeline, Liu Kang pulls you closer until you settle on his lap as he kisses you passionately enough to make your head spin. You’re delighted to feel the pressure of his grip on you, his fingertips hungrily digging into your soft flesh keeping you exactly where he wants you.

His warm palms caress you, slowly sliding to the fat of your thighs just to encourage you in wrapping your legs around him as he lays you back. Liu Kang settles between your legs, finally pulling from your lips just to press his own against the sensitive skin of your throat. 

You barely register Liu Kang’s gentle voice speaking to you; distracted by the feeling of his lips against your skin, his hands working to remove your clothing and the weight of his impressive, hard cock pressing against you through far too many layers for either of your likings.

An embarrassing whine slips from you uncontrollably as you feel him break contact with you to remove his shirt and, despite your disappointment at the fact his hands and lips are no longer on you, you’re granted the unreal view of tattoos and muscular upper body in all its glory. 

Your hands meet his exposed skin like they’re drawn to it by magnets, fingers exploring the bare expanses of his chest and abs that are always just so teasingly visible with how he regularly wears his shirt.

Large, warm hands circle your wrists to pause your caressing hands and your eyes dart up to meet Liu Kang’s. 

“Tell me.. you want to be with me” Sensing your confusion he gently squeezes your wrists and closes his eyes to hide how they pool with vulnerability. “I need to hear it.. please”

With the final word barely a whisper from his lips you pull free from his grip and embrace the man, the god, in front of you. 

“I want you Liu Kang, I want to be with you”

You press your lips to his cheek.

“I want to be with you in every way I can be”

Emboldened by your words, his hands grip you once again and he wastes no time in baring the both of your bodies to each other between passionate, breathtaking kisses.

Laid on your back once more, your legs lock around Liu Kang’s waist to selfishly pull his hips closer. The feeling of his bare cock brushing against your soaked cunt causing a desperate whine to escape from your throat.

Supporting himself with one arm to hold himself over you he uses his free hand position himself, briefly running the head of his thick cock through your slick and bumping it against your clit before slowly pressing into you.

The moan Liu Kang lets out is sinful, a deep, rich sound that you wish you could hear on repeat for the rest of your days and the flushed expression on his face as he finally sinks the full length of his dick into your pussy is so beautiful you think for a moment that you truly understand what it means to ‘see God’.

“Forgive my impatience.. but believe me when I say I have waited longer than you know to have you like this”

He really did want to take his time with you, feel your pretty pussy clench and gush around his fingers, feel your clit pulse under his tongue as he spends hours between your legs, spend as much time as possible making you fall apart in the best way imaginable but the idea of waiting another second without being as close to you as he possibly could be is pure torture.

Your moans are loud and so unbearably pretty as Liu Kang begins with a few experimental thrusts, the sound of your sweet voice and the wet slap of each slow thrust driving you both further into a lust filled haze. He knows he should wait longer before ramping up the pace and force of his thrusts but the desperation he feels for you along with the feeling of your gentle hands knotting into his hair only encourages him into fucking you the way you both need him to.

Your head drops back into the pillows, each deep thrust sending pleasure coursing through your veins and making your brain go foggy with want. Every punch of Liu Kang’s tip against your g-spot makes your toes curl and your fingernails dig deeper into his muscular shoulders. 

Liu Kang brings you back with a gentle grip on your jaw, angling you to better look him in the eyes while he buries his cock in you. He drops closer to you, encompassing you with his body and pressing his thick cock so deeply it makes you see stars. His heat surrounds you, long hair tickling your face as he presses his forehead to your own. 

There's a burning love in his eyes as he takes in your fucked out expression and Liu Kang thanks whatever power higher than his own that controls fate because he has you in his arms again, in his bed. He has a chance to be yours forever again, to make you his wife, make you a mother and all of the things that he spent so long wishing he had done before this time around.

All of your senses are completely overtaken by him, your mind blank to the world and the only intelligible thing leaving your mouth being the God of fire’s name.

Gentle fingers meet your puffy, sensitive clit and every circle combined with perfectly aimed hits to your g-spot brings you dangerously close to the edge. The pleasure is overwhelming, almost bringing tears to your eyes and forcing you into a pleading babble that only serves to make Liu Kang fuck you with even more purpose.

“I c-can’t!” 

The speed of his fingers on your clit picks up as the clench of your needy cunt draws borderline whines from the god of fire amid his pleasure filled grunts.

“You can, my love..” Your mouth opens in a silent scream, your legs tighten around his waist to the point that he’s reduced to barely thrusting at all but instead grinding his hips into yours giving you an overwhelming pressure against both your clit and your g-spot. 

“You can and you will.”

A strained sob rips from your throat as the God’s words do the job of sending you over the edge. Your vision bursting with stars while your body trembles, overtaken by every jolt of pleasure your orgasm sends through your nerves.

The feeling of your pulsing cunt clenching around him even tighter with your high pushes Liu over the edge with barely enough time to pull from your heat. A gorgeous moan of your name falling from his lips as his hand moves to his cock to stroke himself and prolong his orgasm, each rope of his cum landing on your used pussy and trembling thighs.

There's a comfortable silence between you, no words spoken as he reaches for his discarded shirt to clean you up with. The only sound other than the subtle movements being the crackle of the fire and the gentle pants that you can’t quite get under control so soon.

Spare a final glance at the mess he made of you, a sort of possessiveness and pride rears its ugly head as he cleans you up as tenderly as possible with his shirt. Each pass of the cloth against your skin is done so carefully that it feels as if it barely touches you.

You watch him with a smile on your face that he can’t stop himself from returning. A lovesick, soft smile shared between lovers which remains present even as he settles himself beside you and pulls you into his comfortable embrace.

You can hear the comforting rhythm of his heart as your head rests on his warm chest, your eyes barely able to stay open as you’ve been reduced to a drowsy mess.

“Rest my love, I’ve got you” And he vowed to himself he would never let you go again. In every universe, in every timeline, he’d do everything to make sure it was you and him.

[sixpennydame]

Summer Promises

A one-shot for the Levi Ackerman x Fem!OC series, North Star

Read on AO3

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: fluff; post-Rumbling world; postwar!Levi feeling the healing power of nature

Author's note: While this one-shot is part of the North Star world, it can still be enjoyed without having read the series.

But the story is best enjoyed while sitting under the trees.

Levi can’t recall ever enjoying summers in Paradis. It had always been unbearably hot and humid; every shred of his uniform sticking to his body making it difficult to move. Not to mention that summer was the busiest time of year for expeditions. Riding for hours in the heat, the only time he felt a cool breeze was when he was flying through the air on ODM gear. The sound of nearby thunder from a summer storm would mingle with the footsteps of titans, and the flowers that dotted the forest ground were often splattered with the blood of his comrades. 

No, he had no good memories of summer. 

He’d arrived in Mursa at the peak of the season and with no knowledge of mountain summers.  But the moment he’d moved into your home he saw how much you treasured it: the fresh flowers neatly displayed on the breakfast table every morning, and the basket of vegetables from the garden under your arm. You opened every window in the house to let a crosswind cool the rooms, the gossamer fabric of the curtain blowing in the wind. 

He started his walk to his job at the stables in the early dawn hours, when the sun had not yet burned off the heavy dew collecting on each leaf and flower, the birds just beginning their songs. He noticed that the air was cool and crisp in the mornings and evenings here, and you’d given him a jacket when you’d seen him bristle at the chill. 

You - 

If people could be seasons then he’d decided you were summer. You were bright and warm, and had a bustling energy about you. He could hear you humming in your garden when you were pulling weeds, humming when you put laundry on the line to dry. Always humming, always singing…

…he didn’t mind it. 

“Come ride with me,” you said one day while visiting the stables. You were brushing your horse, Astrid, and she seemed to snort in approval. “You were saying you need to ride Demon more anyway, right?”

It’s true, he needed to get the stallion out and stretch its legs. 

“Ok, but just for a quick ride. I need to get back and do the rest of today’s chores,” he answered. 

“Pfft, you’ve done most of them already, the rest can wait. Besides, it’s summer!”

(This was something you often said, he’d realized -  when you wanted to sleep in a little longer on the weekends, when you’d eat an extra helping of strawberries with cream, when you’d stay up too late reading a book - as if summer was some magical pass to do things you don’t normally do.)

“He’s fine to leave for a few hours, right Mathieu?”

The old man smiles, the deep wrinkles around his mouth deepening. “Levi works so efficiently, I barely have anything left for him to do today.” He grabs a saddle and gives it to Levi. “Go, enjoy the summer’s day.”

Once both horses are saddled, you and he ride out of the stables and into the meadow. 

“Where to?” he asks, having a feeling you’ve got something in mind. 

“We’re gonna ride up into those mountains a bit.” You point to a mountain range just to the west of the stables. “I have a place to show you that I think you’re gonna love.”

You look at him with a gleam in your eye. “Wanna race to the foot of the mountain?”

He liked this competitive side of you. “You know Demon and I will beat you.”

“Not if I get a head start!” 

A gentle prod to Astrid’s and you’re off in a flash. Levi smirks and pets the side of Demon’s neck.

“Time to show off a little, eh?” Levi clicks his tongue and taps Demon’s sides, just as they’d practiced over the past week. The black stallion snorts, stomping the ground before he starts his cantor. It doesn’t take long before they’re neck-in-neck with you, but he says a command and Demon goes even faster. By the time you and Astrid reach the foot of the mountain, the other two are relaxed, Demon nibbling on some blades of grass.

“What was that about beating me?” Levi smirks.

You roll your eyes before moving past him, starting up a narrow trail that leads into the trees. He follows behind, welcoming the cool shade as you ride further up. There’s a rustling in the bushes and Levi whips his head toward the sound, suddenly on alert. A deer’s head rises, seemingly unbothered by their presence.

Levi sighs. Even after all these years, it’s hard not to think that any movement in a forest is a possible threat. He keeps his eyes on your back as you ascend, the trail too narrow for you to ride side by side. But it’s a well worn trail, Levi notices; whether it was you or someone else that created it, it’s been used often. You don’t speak a word the entire trek until suddenly the ground evens out and you stop.

“Here we are,” you declare in a sing-song voice, “my little hideaway.”

The dense foliage of the pine and elm trees has given way to a small clearing dotted with white and blue flowers, their petals open towards the sun as if greeting its warmth. It was almost perfectly circular, like it was cleared of trees and specifically made. 

“Martin and I would come here when we were kids.” You step into the clearing. “We thought fairies made this place - it’s always felt so magical.”

“Fairies?”

“Magical beings that live in the forest.” Levi looks at you, perplexed. “There aren’t forest spirits where you’re from?”

“Not that I’m aware of. But there were plenty of things that wanted to kill us,” he replies. 

“Fairies can be mischievous, but they’re usually kind and benevolent. Especially if you give them a gift.”

You take out a peach and a small bottle from your saddle bag and place it under a large tree next to the clearing. “They particularly like wine and fruit.”

“Who doesn’t,” Levi says, slightly to mock but he must admit, his interest has peaked. “Now what happens? Do they jump out of the trees or something?”

 “No! That’s silly,” you answer. Your eyes shine as you take his arm and pull him into the center of the clearing. “I know you don’t believe in any of this stuff, but..”

You sit down, pulling him down with you. “...you’ll see, there’s something special about this place.” 

Before Levi can respond, you’re lying down in the grass, your face towards the sky, just like the flowers around you. “Just lay down. Close your eyes. Listen.”

There’s something about the calm and confident way you voice those three commands, and the next thing he knows, he’s lying beside you, his arms crossed against his chest.

One final sigh of resignation, and he closes his eyes. He waits a few seconds, wondering if something will happen, and laughing at himself internally for even entertaining these kinds of foolish thoughts. 

But then his breathing steadies, and he notices that it’s in rhythm with the breeze blowing through the trees around him: an in and out, as if the trees are also breathing. 

He feels a tiny insect - probably an ant - walking across his hand, the tall grass brushing against his body.

He smells the scent of pine in the air, sweet and woody.

He hears the bird song around him - the same melody he hears every day, but now, he notices every note. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

There’s another sound - a voice in the air, but it’s not yours. 

“Rest..” it says..

…

…

Levi opens his eyes to the sound of you humming in the distance. He sits up, blinking a few times to adjust to the changing lighting.

“You felt it, didn’t you?”

You’re picking some flowers next to a tree, twisting their stems into a flower crown.

He rubs the back of his neck before standing up and wipes off the grass from his pants. “How long was I out?”

“Oh, for about an hour. I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so peaceful.” 

Levi walks over to the tree you’re sitting under and leans against the trunk. You look up and smile at him.

“The fairies tend to give us what we need most. Apparently, you needed rest.”

Levi does a mental scan of his body. He does feel rested, more than he has in a long time. His muscles are relaxed, and even his knee isn’t aching as much. He’s never been a superstitious person - he believes what his eyes and other senses tell him - but he has to admit, there is something special about this place.

He wants to ask you what you were given during your time in the clearing, and what you need most. And why you brought him, of all people,here.

Instead, he looks away, his face apathetic. “Yeah, well, an afternoon nap is never a bad idea.” He glances down to see you smiling at him. “What?” he asks defensively.

You smile so sweetly at him, he feels a slight heat to his cheeks. 

“Oh…nothing…nothing,” you reply, standing up as you hold the flower crown. “Thanks for coming with me today.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Would you…come here again with me some time?’

He can feel the blush growing across his face now and he turns away, walking towards Demon, who’s grazing nearby. “Sure.”

“Promise?”

He looks back at you to see that you’ve now put the crown upon your head. The breeze blows some of your hair across your face, and he almost reaches out to push the strands behind your ear, but you beat him to it. Of all people, why would you want to spend time with him? You'd only just met him a little over a month ago. And what is it about you that makes him want to say yes to whatever you ask?

He can’t explain what it is about this place that makes it feel so special. Maybe it’s some natural phenomenon, maybe it is fairies.

Or maybe it’s just you.

He reaches out and straightens the crown on your head.

“I promise.”

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[delulufortoji]

HOW MANY TIMES? - toji fushiguro

pairing: toji x fem!reader

summary: you and toji have been together for over a year, but every time you say you love him, he never seems to be able to say it back…

word count: ~3k

content: 18+, modern au, established relationship, oral, overstim

notes: i was sick, tired, suffering from jjk brain rot, and it was like 1 in the morning when i wrote this so it might seem like some straight bullshit 😅 and this is like the first jjk fic i’ve ever written, so yeahhh

You still remember the night you two met, the memory ingrained clearly in your mind: it was a stormy afternoon, nature raging outside with branches scratching against your windows and leaves beating on the glass. The sky above darkened, the warm drizzle mixed with the humid breeze. Gray clouds drifted overhead, bringing a sudden chilling wind and shower with them, causing water to flow down the pathways and pool into puddles. The air itself carried an earthy scent, and the wilting leaves from the trees gracefully descended to join the wet ground. The soothing sound of rain trickling down the window added to the enchantment of the moment.

And then, there he was, behind your door, a strikingly toned and towering figure, utterly drenched, his hair clinging to his face, hands tucked in the pockets of his pants, and a subtle, intriguing smile playing on his lips. “Hey, can I stay here for a couple of days until the storm blows over? I ain’t got anywhere else to go.” He asked, his voice low and laced with a hint of vulnerability.

You could feel your jaw drop, your cheeks flushed with a mixture of shyness and amazement. This man…he was undeniably handsome—his bold and quiet confidence, his voice, his charming smile, all of it made your heart throb. “S—Sure…” you muttered, “ you can stay here.”

“There’s no need to be shy,” he chuckled, “I’ll be gone and outta your hair in a couple of days.”

The blush in your cheeks deepened. “Yeah, okay,” you replied shyly, avoiding his icy gaze, “go sit by the heater to warm yourself up. I’ll go get you a towel so you can shower.”

“Alright, then.” The man said with a sly grin.

You don’t quite recall how, but somehow “warming up” took on a different meaning than intended: you soon found yourself entangled with him, your body sweating underneath his touch, his hips meeting yours in monstrous thrusts. The room resonated with the sounds of your moans and his grunts, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you.

“F—Fuck Toji…slow down…” you gasped amidst the pleasure.

“Shh,” he whispered, silencing you by plunging his digits into your mouth, “the only sound I wanna hear is the sound of your pussy purring.” Toji's pace intensified, his grip on your hips growing more possessive. You couldn't contain your ecstasy, climaxing as fire surged through your body. His thrusts grew erratic, and his breath quickened in tandem with your movements.

On a high of both pleasure and euphoria, you did as Toji said—you let your pussy talk for you, breathlessly blurting out: “I love you, Toji.

“...Heh, do ya really?” A response less than what you expected. But the wave of pleasure that coursed through your body was too much for you to inject, to express your dissatisfaction at his answer.

As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, Toji's presence became a permanent fixture in your life. He moved in, sharing the burdens of rent and groceries with a part-time job, allowing you to take more breaks. Yet, amidst this peaceful coexistence, there remained a lingering issue—those three words you so desperately wanted to hear repeated. Each time you uttered "I love you," Toji's response fell short, often met with laughter or a casual "Okay," leaving your heart yearning for the affirmation you craved.

You glance at him now from where you are: in the dimly lit room he sits, his eyes stuck on the dull glow of the phone in his hand. On instinct, you make your way over to Toji, settling into his lap, your fingers delicately toying with the fine ends of his hair.

A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he meets your gaze, curiosity dancing in his eyes. “What’s wrong, doll?”

You offer no answer, instead, you continue to run your fingers through the strands, captivated by the finely sculpted features of the man before you: his features seem meticulously crafted, each detail carefully considered in the making of Toji’s face, from the angular lines of his cheekbones to the gentle slope of his chiseled jawline. His pale, pink lips curve perpetually in a sly smirk, and his dark eyes hold an untamed intensity that ensnares your attention. You can’t help but be enamored, can’t resist the urge to confess, "I love you."

Another light laugh escapes his lips. "I know."

A heavy silence envelops you, leaving you taken aback by his lackluster response. Toji, still engrossed in his phone, finally asks, "Is there a problem?”

You can't help but press further, frustration building. “How many times do I have to say it before you say it back?”

"Say what back?"

You scoff. "You know what I meant." A hint of frustration colors your tone as you shift in his lap, turning away from him.

Toji pauses for a moment, carefully considering his words. "Baby, you know how I feel about you," he eventually concedes, though it seems more like a half-hearted attempt to soothe your emotions.

He doesn’t mean to be disingenuous, doesn’t mean to hurt you with his lack of a response. You know him well enough to know he isn’t one to verbally express how he feels, nor is he one to blurt “I love you’s”, but part of you had hoped that would change after a year of being together.

A frown etches itself into your features as you stand up, turning to the door. "You don't mean that."

“Where are you going?" He calls after you, a slight layer of concern evident in his voice.

"To sleep."

Determined not to let you go, Toji follows you into the room, pulling you closer by your waist. “C’mon baby. You know I ain’t mean to make you mad.”

“But you did.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he croons, resting his forehead on the nape of your neck, pressing light kisses to your skin. “My bad.” He turns you around so that you’re facing him, arms crossed.

“What do you want?” You ask.

A slight smirk plays on Toji’s lips as he inches closer—by now, you two are stuck in an intimate proximity, his breath tickling your face. Just being this close to you is enough temptation for him to pull you into a deep, passionate kiss, his rough hands cradling your face. “Let me make it up to you.” He whispers, his warm breath mingling with yours.

His lips curve into a smile on yours as he presses you down onto the bed. Toji positions himself between your thighs, his lips never leaving yours, not even for a second. His touch ignites a passionate fire as he explores your body, his tongue tracing a scorching path from your lips, down your neck, and further, leaving you breathless with desire.

“Toji…keep going…” As your pleasure mounts, you can't help but moan his name, encouraging him further. His hands explore your inner thighs, spreading his warmth, his kisses become more insistent. His tongue moves lazily down your panties, the subtle friction from the stubble on his chin heightening the sensations. Your breath quickens, and your thighs quiver as he slowly slides his thumb over the moist fabric of your underwear before deftly moving it aside.

Toji's breath, hot and tantalizing, teases your sensitive flesh, his lips hovering mere inches from your core. His eyes, heavy with desire, meet yours for a fleeting moment, and a mischievous smirk tugs at his lips. "Still shy, even after all this time?" he teases, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "C'mon, girl, put it on me."

“Stop talking,” You say, dropping yourself down his face, wrapping your legs around his neck, “just make this quick.”

“I’ll make it anything but.” His response is a wicked promise in itself. You barely manage to hold back a whimper when Toji dives into his task, latching his mouth onto your pussy, his tongue exploring every inch of your pulsating walls.

“Toji…” you moan, gripping his hair, pushing his head further down.

You lose yourself to the sensation, clenching from the pace of his tongue. Your hips begin to move on sheer instinct, riding his face—your fingers are tangled up in his hair, your fists tugging on his soft locks. You’re grinding on him, your body craving every sensation, every touch, every flick of his skilled tongue, and twitching every time something grazes your folds—Toji is so damn ruthless with his tongue that it has you feeling high, like you’re on cloud nine. His every touch, no matter how brief, drives you to the brink, leaving you in a blissful state of disarray.

“To–Toji…more…” Toji’s nose-deep now, the tip of it rubbing against your sensitive clit. He brings his head up, taking a moment to breathe. He’s gasping for air, his face is slick with your essence. He swallows and then after a couple of seconds, he goes right back to sucking.

He’d almost forgotten how good you tasted—a few minutes was enough to get him hooked on you all over again, getting hard at the sound of your whines echoing through the room. His tongue is running laps like a track star, only gaining in speed with each moan you emit. Each gasp, each whimper only pushes him closer to the brink of his desire.

He needed more of your moans, more of your sweet taste, more of you—he had lost himself in his cravings, only desperate for you. His strong hands trace your inner thigh, savoring the taste as he lavishes your pussy with his saliva, worshiping your wetness with his mouth. He laps at your cunt like a starved man–like the taste of you is all the nutrition he needs.

“I’m—I’m gonna…” you gasp, but he ignores you and just keeps going, his tongue working your clit, just the way you like it. He let his eyes close in ecstasy, feeling you as your hips bucked up into his mouth, groaning at the sensation. “Toji, please…” you whimpered, your need reaching its peak. He’s still going, making you wait until he’s finished eating, until you’re a fucking mess—until you’re quivering, reduced to incoherent pleas just to come. After a couple more minutes of teasing you, of edging you, he finally grants you the release you crave. As he lifts his mouth from your pulsing core, you can only grip his hair tighter, gasping his name until you can finally come down from the intense high.

He slides his mouth up to your lips, his mouth smooth and buttery on yours—the sheer thought of tasting yourself on his tongue right after he had just eaten you out was disgusting, but you can’t be bothered when Toji feels this good.

He stares at you, a grin playing on his lips. “You forgive me now?” he asks, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

You shake your head, huffing out the words: “Sh–shut up, Toji.”

He looks at you with a cocky smirk, his hair matted to his face, his breathing heavy, but his dark blue eyes, normally cold and distant, are now aflame with longing and desire—he said without words what he rarely admitted with him.

“Open wide.” He says, his voice a low, sultry rumble.

You take off your shirt and lie down on your back, legs spread out—you look so fucking hot for him, sprawled out like this, your pussy soaking wet and on full display. You’re an irresistible vision of his desire, every curve of your form a masterpiece in his eyes. God, he can almost feel himself stretching you out and you clenching, tightening around him, and he’s not even inside you yet.

He can’t bear to wait any longer, can’t bear to hold it in—he’s throbbing, desperate to plunge into you, to be buried deep within your warmth. He needs to be balls deep inside of you, right fucking now. Toji brings out his cock with a groan, and god, is he full and aching to be inside you—only you could ever get him this hard.

He pulls your hips closer to him, dick poised at your entrance. “C’mon girl,” he says with a slight grunt, a hint of impatience in his voice. That’s when he slowly begins his descent into you, inch by inch—he’s not even fully in, but his tip alone is enough to steal a small gasp from your lips.

You stare at him and whimper, feeling him as he forces himself deeper. He is so big—his thick, rigid shaft glides within your velvety folds, leaving you trembling and powerless to resist. You bite your lower lip to stifle your cries, completely lost in the waves of lust that crash over you. “To…Toji…” You’re already babbling as he buries himself balls deep into you. Toji’s hips slap against yours once—a single thrust already has you moaning, salivating at the sensation, arms wrapped around his neck.

With your hand pinned above your head, fingers interlocked with his, Toji rocks into you with an intensity that borders on primal. His forehead is nestled in the crook of your neck, his ragged and hot breath caressing your soft skin, his free hand claiming every inch of your skin as his own. He’s pistoning his hips with a purpose, stretching you open with each thrust, the physical sensation and the raw intimacy between you both like a potent drug. Toji focuses on the tight heat of your walls around his cock, the way your hips meet his rhythm, the delicious way you clench around him as his dick stretches your pussy out. It should be illegal how good you feel to him right now.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Toji murmurs in your ear, his voice a husky, sensuous melody that rings through the room. “Keep doin’ what you’re doin’.”

His words are so provocative, so disgusting, yet so fucking hot—they make you want to continue, to keep teasing him with the way you feel to the point where his cock is twitching, throbbing inside of your wet heat, to the point where he can’t thrust into you anymore.

“M-More.” Your whining intensified—his movements are becoming sloppier, his thrusts beginning to lose their pattern as he loses himself in the melody of your cries and the intoxicating sensations you provide. His tip is just attacking your sweet spot, stealing those beautiful noises out from your mouth. Toji can’t focus anymore, can’t maintain his rhythm—you’re just too damn loud for him to think about anything else but you: the way your lips part each time you moan, the way your nails dig into the muscles on his back, the way you writhe under him.

The pace of his hips quicken, the beautifully lewd sound of his balls slapping against your ass and your moans filling the room. “Fuuuckkk—” Toji grunts. Just one round with you has him in disarray—his black strands are a mess, drenched with sweat, his ruffled hair obscuring his vision with how it fell over his eyes. But even in this fevered state, he’s fucking you like there’s no tomorrow, his relentless thrusts making your throbbing core scream for more.

“Toji…Toji…” His dick throbs each time his name falls from your beautiful lips in breathy cries, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth. His lips find yours in fervent kisses, his navy blue eyes locked onto yours as his hips meet yours with increasing urgency.

He’s so damn rough with you, but he can’t help it, especially when you feel like a slice of heaven—he’s ruthlessly fucking you into the bed, grunts escaping his mouth every time he does so. You’re stuck in a passionate trance, each strike to your core, vigorous and accurate—fuck, it’s got your throbbing pussy yearning out for more.

“Goddamn, Toji—” You stammer, rendered incapable of finishing your sentence, shuddering with the hypnotizing movement of Toji’s hips, with the intoxicating feel of him inside of his body. His thick cock is being engulfed by your sheer warmth, each pulse only stretching you out more. “S–so good.”

Toji grumbles, and you whimper as his base repeatedly strikes you, his every thrust taking you deeper. You're lost in the heady pleasure, your core gripping him tightly, refusing to let go, making him push harder and faster.

The repeated sound of his skin slapping against yours becomes a relentless symphony of pleasure: slap, slap, slap. He’s losing himself even more, completely drunk off of you—he just can’t help himself. You’re like a drug. And fuck, did you look pretty beneath him, giving him the most spectacular view of your body. Tits on full display, your eyes rolling back each time he hits your sweet spot. He can’t help but breathe heavily when he looks down at you naked under him. Bites and hickeys cover your flawless skin, and shit, did the sight of those marks drive Toji wild.

Toji’s brows furrow together, and the pace of his hips begins to slow for a brief moment. He chuckles softly and brushes a strand of hair from your eyes, his voice carrying an unexpected tenderness. “Hey–I love ya. I really do. Our feelings are mutual.” It’s not the confession you were hoping for, but still, it was his own unique way of confirming what you had been longing to hear—his own way of confirming that he had never felt for anyone the way he felt for you.

With a contented sigh, he releases a thick load, and you feel it deep within you, your inner walls stretching to accommodate his passion. You laugh lightly and pull him closer, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your nails digging themselves deeper into Toji’s back. "F–faster, Toji... k–keep going..."

“So needy.” He obliges, pounding his cum deeper into you. He sighs gently, his lips curling up into a smile against the curve between your neck and shoulder. “Anything for ya, baby.”

[moonsandmobilityaids]

Disappointed

Pairings: poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: You're struggling after you couldn't finish in sex. Your boys know better. Warnings: Discussion of sexual dysfunction. Series Masterlist

"Don't worry, Y/N," James's voice echoes in your mind as you lay awake in bed long after the boys have left. "We're here for you."

His words were meant to soothe, but they only serve to deepen the pit of unease that has settled within you. You turn onto your side, pulling the blankets tightly around yourself, trying to ward off the lingering chill of vulnerability.

The room is dark and silent—your own private sanctuary—but tonight it feels like a prison, the walls closing in with each passing second. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, the sound hollow and empty in the vastness of the night.

You want to believe them—to trust in their reassurances—but doubts gnaw at the edge of your consciousness, refusing to be silenced. It's not their intentions you question; it's your own response—or lack thereof—that leaves you feeling adrift.

"I'm sorry, love," Remus had murmured against your skin, his touch gentle yet insistent. "We'll do better next time."

But there was a rush—a desperate need to reach the peak they promised, to prove to them—and to yourself—that you could. That you were enough.

Yet despite their patient coaxing, the much-anticipated climax eluded you, leaving behind a trail of frustration and self-doubt. The memory of your failure burns brightly, a beacon signaling your inadequacy even in the most intimate of moments.

"You did great, Y/N," James had assured you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he too retreated into the night.

Did I? you wonder now, staring up at the ceiling where shadows dance like specters of your insecurities. Did I really?

A part of you wants to scream, to let out all the fear and disappointment that's been building inside. But you swallow it down, pushing it back into the recesses of your heart where it festers, feeding on your uncertainty.

What if you've let them down? What if this changes everything?

"You were amazing," Sirius had said, holding your trembling body close to his. His voice was steady, grounding. But could he see past your facade—the tremors of desire masking an undercurrent of apprehension?

The questions are relentless, each one chipping away at the confidence you'd painstakingly built over time. With every replay of the evening's events, the reality of your inability to finish looms larger, casting a shadow over the shared laughter and whispered promises of earlier.

A strange and unyielding sense of guilt begins to creep into your interactions with the boys, a constant reminder of your perceived failure. Instead of seeking their company as you once did, you find yourself withdrawing—pulling away from their gentle touches and avoiding their lingering gazes.

It's not that you love them any less; rather, it's the fear of falling short again that holds you back, the nagging thought that you might never be able to give them what they truly deserve. And so you retreat further into your shell, putting distance between your heart and theirs—a protective measure against the imaginary blow you're certain will come.

"You okay, Y/N?" Sirius asks one morning at breakfast, his brow furrowed in concern when he notices how quiet you've been.

"Fine," you murmur, forcing a smile onto your face even while your chest feels like it's being crushed under the weight of unwelcome thoughts. "Just... tired."

But the lie tastes bitter on your tongue, and you can't help but wonder if they see through your facade. Can they sense the turmoil roiling beneath the surface? Do they know about the battle raging within you?

You begin to avoid those stolen moments—the secret kisses shared in hidden corners of the castle, the playful banter that would often lead to more intimate encounters. Each time James' hand brushes against yours, or Remus' gaze lingers a little too long, you pull away, making excuses about needing to study or catch up on sleep.

Your actions don't go unnoticed. The boys exchange worried glances, their brows furrowing in confusion and concern. But you brush off their questions, assuring them that everything is fine even though nothing feels right anymore.

As much as you crave their touch—the warmth of their bodies pressed against yours, the familiarity of their scent enveloping you—you can't shake the feeling that you're holding them back, that you're denying them an experience they should be having. It's this thought that haunts your every waking moment, planting seeds of doubt where there was once only certainty.

You see the way their smiles falter when you flinch away from a touch that was once welcome, how confusion clouds their eyes as you avoid sitting too close in the common room. And each time you make an excuse to leave early or decline an invitation to sneak off somewhere more private, the silence that follows is deafening.

"Y/N," James calls softly one evening, settling beside you on the plush sofa of the Gryffindor common room. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into his side for a cuddle like so many times before. But instead of melting into him, you sit rigidly, every muscle tense with unease. "I thought we could..."

"I have to study." The words are out before you can stop them, filling the space between you with a new kind of distance—one not measured by physical proximity but by the gulf widening in your hearts.

James blinks at you, surprise etched onto his handsome features. You've never turned down a moment of closeness before, and he's left searching for answers in the depth of your evasive gaze. As you rise from the couch and head towards the girls' dormitory, he watches you go, a frown creasing his forehead.

The pattern continues over the next few days, your laughter growing quieter, your presence less constant. Sirius picks up on it during one of your usual study sessions, the library's vastness suddenly feeling oppressive without the sound of your shared chuckles echoing off the stone walls.

"Something's up," he murmurs to the others later that night, his grey eyes clouded with worry.

"You think?" James retorts, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words as he runs a hand through his unruly hair. "It's been days since she's even looked at us properly."

Remus, ever the observer, nods in agreement from his place by the fireplace, his amber eyes flickering with concern. "We should talk to her."

So they do.

The following evening finds you curled up on your bed, a book open but unread in your lap as thoughts whirr relentlessly through your mind. A soft knock pulls you from your reverie, and before you can respond, the door creaks open. James peeks around the edge, his hazel eyes filled with trepidation.

"We need to talk, love," he says softly, stepping aside to reveal Sirius and Remus waiting behind him.

Your heart stutters in your chest as you sit up, setting the book aside. You swallow hard, nodding for them to enter despite the knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach. This is it, isn't it? The moment you've been dreading—the confrontation you've been hoping to avoid.

They move in unison, crossing the threshold into your sanctuary. Their presence fills the room, their silhouettes outlined by the warm glow of the setting sun streaming in through the window. Each step they take feels like an echo of the distance you've created—intentional yet painful, necessary yet heartbreaking.

"Y/N," Sirius starts, his usually confident voice wavering slightly. He settles on the edge of your bed, so close yet miles apart from where you're sitting. "We're... we're worried about you."

"Worried?" You laugh, but there's no humor in it, just bitter disbelief. How could they possibly be concerned when all you've done is hold them back?

"Yes, worried," Remus confirms, taking a seat next to Sirius. His fingers drum against his thighs, a nervous habit betraying the calm exterior he presents. "You've been distant lately. Not just physically, but emotionally too."

"And we want to understand why." James completes the thought, standing near the foot of your bed, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze never leaves yours, searching for answers within the depths of your guarded expression.

At their words, something inside you breaks—a dam holding back weeks of pent-up emotions. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you look between the three faces before you. Faces that used to bring comfort now only serve as reminders of what you believe you can't give them.

"I don't..." Your voice cracks, and you have to stop, swallowing hard against the lump forming in your throat. You draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself before attempting to speak again. "I don't want to disappoint you."

"Disappoint us?" Sirius echoes, furrowing his brow. "Y/N, how could you—"

"But I am!" you blurt out, unable to contain the wave of desperation crashing over you. "You all expecting something I can't give!"

Confusion passes between the boys before realization dawns on each face. It's James who speaks first, his tone gentle, understanding creeping into his voice. "You mean... during sex, don't you?"

Your silence serves as confirmation, the weight of your admission hanging heavy in the air. The truth, once hidden beneath layers of fear and self-doubt, is now laid bare before them, exposing the raw vulnerability you've fought so hard to conceal.

"Y/N," Sirius begins, reaching out tentatively to brush a lock of hair from your face, "is this about... finishing?"

A single tear escapes, trailing down your cheek as you nod. Yes, that's exactly it. That elusive peak of pleasure that seems to come so naturally to them remains stubbornly out of reach for you, and you can't shake the feeling that you're somehow less because of it.

"I'm afraid," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "Afraid that one day, you'll grow tired of me, tired of trying... because I can't... I can't finish the way you do."

The boys listen carefully to your confession, their expressions filled with nothing but love and understanding. There's no trace of judgment in their eyes, only concern for the pain you've been shouldering alone.

"Y/N," James says softly, his voice a soothing balm over the rawness of your exposed fears. "You don't disappoint us—never have, never will."

He moves closer, sitting on the edge of your bed, his hand hovering just above yours as if asking permission to comfort. You give him a small nod, and he gently takes your hand into his, offering silent support.

Sirius shifts next to Remus, leaning forward so he can look directly at you. His grey eyes are intense, not with desire this time, but with determination to make you understand how much you mean to them—all of them.

"Our love for you isn't dependent on whether or not you reach climax," Sirius begins, his tone steady and sure. "It's about so much more than that."

"Exactly," Remus adds, his own voice a touch softer, yet equally reassuring. "We care about you, Y/N. More than I think you realise."

They remind you that their intimacy isn’t about performance or expectation; it’s about being close, about sharing something meaningful and intimate.

"It's not about reaching some end goal," James explains, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "It's about being together, experiencing pleasure and connection in whatever form that takes."

"And we do feel connected to you, Y/N," Sirius insists, his gaze never leaving yours. "Every touch, every kiss—it means something. It's real and beautiful, regardless of where it leads."

Remus nods, agreeing with the others. "And it's perfectly okay if you don't finish—we’d like you to, of course, but it’s okay if you don’t. That doesn't take away from the intimacy we share or how much we love you."

They tell you that your worth to them is far beyond physical pleasure, and they don’t need you to finish to feel fulfilled.

"You're not less because of this, Y/N," James assures you, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. "Your worth to us isn't measured by orgasm counts."

"That's right," Sirius chimes in, his resolve unwavering. "You fulfil us in countless ways, love. Don't ever think otherwise."

The boys' words start to seep into your consciousness, washing over you like a soothing balm. The weight on your chest feels a little less heavy, the knot in your stomach loosening ever so slightly as their reassurances begin to take root.

"Everyone has insecurities," James admits, his voice barely above a whisper as he continues to hold your gaze. "Even us."

"Especially us," Sirius adds with a wry smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "You should hear Remus fretting over his transformations or me worrying about living up to my family's expectations."

"And don't get me started on Prongs here," Remus teases, nudging James with his elbow. "He can be just as unsure of himself, especially when it comes to Quidditch."

Your eyes widen at their confessions, surprised by this glimpse into their vulnerabilities. You've always seen them as confident, almost untouchable in their self-assuredness. Yet here they are, sharing their own doubts and fears, reminding you that everyone—no matter how strong they appear—has moments of insecurity.

"That's what makes this relationship work," Sirius explains, his hand gently squeezing your knee for emphasis. "We navigate through those feelings together."

"For all of us, being intimate is more than just physical," James echoes, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks as he brushes a stray hair from your face. "It's about trust, vulnerability... allowing someone else to see us—not just our bodies, but our souls. And Y/N, believe me when I say we see you. And we love what we see."

"You trusting us enough to let us in—to share not only your body but also your worries... That means everything," Sirius says, leaning closer until you can feel his breath against your skin. His grey eyes reflect sincerity and warmth as he holds your gaze. "More than any climax could."

Remus nods, agreeing with his friends. "Pleasure doesn't always look the same for everyone, and that's okay. What matters is that we're here, together, caring for one another." He reaches out, placing his hand over yours and Sirius's where they rest on your knee—a silent vow of support and understanding.

When the conversation finally winds down, you feel lighter than you have in hours. Your insecurities haven't disappeared entirely—you know they may never fully go away—but for now, they seem manageable, less overwhelming. The boys' words echo in your mind: It's not about performance. We care about you. You fulfil us...

"Perhaps we should just spend some time together," suggests Remus, breaking the silence that has settled over the room. "No expectations, no pressure... Just enjoying each other's company."

"Yeah," Sirius agrees, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. "Sounds perfect."

James gives your hand a final squeeze before letting go, pushing himself off the bed to join Sirius. "Come on, then. Let's make ourselves comfortable."

What follows is an evening filled with shared laughter and whispered secrets, the four of you huddled together on your bed, talking about anything and everything that comes to mind. There's no urgency, no expectation of what might happen next; just the simple pleasure of being close, reaffirming the bond that goes beyond the physical.

As the night draws in and the glow of the setting sun fades, replaced by the soft light of the moon spilling through your window, you find yourself nestled between James and Sirius, Remus's arm thrown lazily over your legs. Their presence is warm and comforting—the best kind of anchor—and with every passing moment, you feel a little more grounded, a bit more secure.

"Thank you," you murmur into the quiet, your words barely audible yet carrying the weight of your gratitude.

There's a beat of silence before Sirius speaks, his voice low and laced with tenderness. "Always, Y/N. Always."

And in that moment, surrounded by their warmth and love, you realise the truth of their words. They love you, wholly and unconditionally, despite your flaws and insecurities. And perhaps most importantly, you haven't let them down. If anything, you've shown them once again why they fell for you in the first place: your strength, your resilience, your willingness to open up—even when it scares you.

[eyesofbong]

Red Spider Lily ꕥ

art cred. @taak_CHOI on twitter/x

❀ pairing. Chrollo Lucilfer x Founding!Spider Reader

❁ warning. mention of death. Just pure angst ♡

✿ word count. 1.5k

✽ sypnosis. unrequited love, is still love isn't it just as beautiful?

A/N: This piece was inspired by the random red spider lily I found this morning, blooming in the middle of my yard right on time for September—its season. It was particularly strange since I’ve never had one grow before. (My dog tried to eat it.) Also, the chain I’ve had since I was a child randomly broke a couple of nights ago after being indestructible for years! I’m taking it all as a sign. side eye...

The crimson flowers danced in the wind, their delicate petals reaching out, as if grasping for something lost in the void. Red spider lilies—each bloom a splash of scarlet against the gray, lifeless earth. They thrived here, in this forsaken field, where death had long claimed dominion. You stood among them, feeling the chill of the breeze slip through the narrow spaces between the petals, carrying with it the faint, sweet scent of decay—a cruel reminder that beauty and death often walked hand in hand, inseparable, like lovers bound by some twisted fate.

For a long moment, there was only the wind and the rustle of flowers. You didn’t notice him at first. Not until his voice, soft as a whisper, cut through the silence, slicing into your thoughts like a blade you hadn’t seen coming.

“They say these flowers bloom along the Sanzu River,” Chrollo murmured, each word caressing the air like a secret. “Guiding souls to their next life. A fitting backdrop, don’t you think?”

You turned slowly, as if moving through water, your heart stumbling in your chest. And there he was—Chrollo, standing at the edge of the field. His dark cloak fluttered slightly in the wind, like a shadow with its own life. He looked almost like one of the flowers, swaying in the breeze, a figure easily lost among the shifting light and shadows. He gazed intently at the sea of red, a faint smile playing on his lips, yet it never reached his eyes. Eyes dark and deep, like an abyss that promised to swallow you whole.

His expression was unreadable and distant, as if he were looking at something far away, something only he could see.

“I always thought their beauty was wasted on something so fleeting as death,” he continued, his gaze never wavering. “But maybe that’s why they’re so beautiful... because they don’t try to hold on.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, yet they left you feeling hollow, like an echo of something you couldn’t quite grasp. There was a time when you knew that face so well, when every subtle shift in his expression, every flicker in his eyes, told you more than words ever could. But now, that face was a stranger’s—a mask you could no longer read, a portrait painted with shadows and cold light.

You longed for the warmth you once saw there, the softness that had made you believe in things you knew were impossible. His mind, once an open book, had become a locked room, the key stolen, leaving you stranded on the outside.

He stepped closer, and you felt the air shift around you, charged with something you couldn’t name. Your body tensed, muscles tightening as if preparing for a blow that never came. His fingers brushed against yours, so lightly it might have been a dream, as he handed you a single red spider lily. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, an electric jolt that numbed the ache you carried inside—the yearning you kept hidden, even from yourself.

The flower trembled in your hands, and you held it as if it were made of glass, fragile enough to shatter at the slightest pressure. It felt like a lifeline, a thread binding you to this world, to him. To everything you had ever wanted but knew you could never have. Because this was love to you. A quiet, desperate love with no place in words. A love that thrived in shadows, in stolen glances, in moments when his hand brushed yours and sent your heart racing.

You were content to hide it, to bury it deep where he would never see, because you knew he didn’t need to know. You’d rather pretend. Pretend that this was enough—that his presence, his breath mingling with yours in the cold night air, was all you needed.

You looked down at the flower in your hand. It was small and fragile, its petals a deep, crimson red, like drops of blood on bone. It was nothing compared to the treasures you had stolen for him, the riches you had laid at his feet, hoping for a smile, a word, a touch. And yet, it was everything. This single, fleeting gesture—a flower plucked from the earth, handed to you without thought or care—was worth more than anything. The fact that he had given it to you, even with such a cold, detached expression, made your heart flutter like the wings of a dying bird.

Your leader had given you a flower. You could survive on that alone, on the knowledge that, for one brief moment, he had seen you and thought of you.

This was love to you, and you were content with it. Hiding your heart from him because you didn’t need to tell him. You’d rather pretend. Because your love was different—silent, enduring, untouched by the light of day. A love that thrived in quiet spaces, where hope and heartache intertwined like the roots of a tree. You would rather pretend, because its purity was its own reward. It wasn’t about wanting something in return. You knew he would never love you back—not in the way you loved him. And that was fine. You had accepted it long ago.

Your love was about loving him so deeply that you were willing to feel everything, even the pain of knowing he would never feel the same. You had become accustomed to that pain; it had become part of you, a constant companion, a reminder that you were alive, that you could love, even if that love would never be returned.

Your love had survived against all odds, even after he had led the massacre of the Kurta. It was a love that filled the spaces between words left unsaid, in looks that lingered too long, in the silent longing that never truly faded. He had always been out of reach, even when you were children. Always slipping through your fingers like smoke, like a dream you couldn’t quite hold onto.

Perhaps that’s why you clung to him so tightly, why you adopted his ideas as your own, why you never questioned his decisions. You would do anything for him. Anything, if it meant you could stay by his side just a little longer, even if that light were cold and indifferent.

Your love was both a gift and a burden, a testament to the heart’s ability to love fiercely without the promise of anything in return. Pakunoda had seen it—the way your love consumed you, the way it burned like a slow, smoldering fire that refused to go out.

“Can you make these feelings go away?” You had whispered to her once, hiding your face in her shoulder, her arms the only sanctuary you knew. “Can you make it stop?”

The sharp pain of the chain cutting into your heart brought you back to the present, tearing you away from that memory. Blood warmed your lips, pooling at the corners of your mouth, and the world around you blurred into a mess of color and sound. You clung to the lily he had given you, cradling it close even as the chains tightened around you, threatening to crush it in your grasp.

You didn’t blame Chrollo. Not for your pain, not for your death. These were choices you had made willingly, with your eyes open and your heart laid bare. You would make them again, a thousand times over, if it meant you could have this—a flower, a moment, a breath in his presence.

The chain user was gone, and you felt the presence of the other Troupe members drawing nearer, their shouts growing fainter in your ears, echoes from a place you could no longer reach. You had seen all the signs. You had known. But still, you had chosen to believe. To pretend. Because it was easier than facing the truth.

Your vision blurred, but you felt him there, his arms around you, holding you close. For a moment, your heart surged with hope—a foolish hope that maybe, just maybe, he cared. That maybe, this time, he would say something—anything to make the pain go away.

Your fingers tightened around the withering red spider lily, its petals soft and fragile against your skin. Through blurry vision, your eyes searched his face, desperate for a sign. But all you found was the same unreadable mask, the same cold distance. The silence between you was suffocating, more painful than any wound.

In that silence, you finally understood—he would never love you the way you loved him. You were just another piece on his board, another pawn in his game.

“But maybe that’s why they’re so beautiful... because they don’t try to hold on.”

Your grip weakened, and the flower slipped from your fingers, its petals scattering like the remnants of your heart.

So, you let go. Not just of the flower, but of the love that had been your constant torment. You released it into the wind, into the void between you, accepting the truth you had fought so hard to deny.

Maybe, as you crossed the Sanzu River, you would see the cities he burned—for you.

© eyesofbong / Do not plagiarize my work. If you see this content on any account that is not mine, please report it.

[memescomicswriting]

Okay, but here me out … modern!Aegon x reader Casual coded

I know that our Queen Miss Roan did not write this song about a man and the fandom has dubbed it one of the Rhaneyra x Alicent songs. However, as a bi I can attest that this song can apply no matter the team you bat for. It especially applies when the situationship is with someone who’s emotional attachment skills fluctuate whenever the wind blows. So Aegon.

Modern!Aegon, maybe you met in college through overlapping friend groups. He likes to party, your friends like to party. This continues past graduation.

My friends call me a loser/ 'Cause I'm still hanging around

Whether you’re still in uni or not, your friends think it’s time for you to mature and move forward from this cycle you have with Aegon. He’s not good for your health.

I've heard so many rumors/ That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch

Your friends fill you in on what’s being said about you as a part of their reasoning.

“See how he talks about you. And you stay?”

I thought you thought of me better/ Someone you couldn't lose/ You said, "We're not together"/ So now when we kiss, I have anger issues

You confront him about what he’s been saying to his mates, but that silver tongue of his can smooth anything over. When you’re alone, he’s so sweet and you’re putty in his hands.

You said, "Baby, no attachment"/ But we're/ Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out

Aegon’s got big Peter Pan energy. He bolts at any form of responsibility and that includes the responsibility of maintaining a relationship. He doesn’t want to grow up, his partying years to end, and to take on the role his parents have carved out for him. He’s afraid that if he commits to you it’s a sign he’s ready to commit to his future.

Is it causal now

He likes you. He wants you. Maybe as close to love as he can get. But he’s Aegon, so he keeps you at arm’s length despite demanding the intimacy.

Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach

However, you’ve been around long enough that his parents do know you. They’ve seen your face enough. When he has an event that needs a date he always brings you.

I know what you tell your friends/ It's casual

It’s what he tells them when they’re high at 3am and the question comes up again. He can’t bring himself to say it’s anything more.

Then, baby, get me off again/ If it's casual, it's casual now

You always fall back into his bed. He’s addicting. You love the rush and thrill being with him gives you. You crave it despite the burn you receive every time you crash out.

Dumb love, I love being stupid/ Dream of us in a year/ Maybe we'd have an apartment/ And you'd show me off to your friends at the pier

Despite your better judgment, you still go to that delulu headspace. It’s the post orgasm high and he’s being so sweet and gentle. Maybe he’s finally changing.

I know, "Baby, no attachment"

And then his words are bringing you crashing down into the reality of it all.

Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out/ Is it casual now?

And yet he gives you these intimate moments. They almost feel sacrosanct. And you’re thrown in the whirlwind of emotions again only to be smacked down.

It's hard being casual/ When my favorite bra lives in your dresser

You’re with him so goddamn often that his neighbors think you share the apartment.

And it's hard being casual/ When I'm on the phone talking down your sister

You’ve been at this for so long. You know him. You know Helena. She treats you as if you’re some pillar, some constant, someone who’s always been in the family.

And I try to be the chill girl/ That holds her tongue and gives you space/ I try to be the chill girl

You try so fucking hard to please him. You’re trying so goddamn hard to suppress all your desires that will scare him off. It’s like he’s given you a 4x4 dimension of space to take up in his life, but you’re a 5x5. You’re tipping over and bleeding out.

But honestly, I'm not

For some unknown reason on some random day, the scale finally tips to far. Like a spring that’s been coiled and tightened as far as it can go, you bounce back with force.

I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner/ Your parents at the table, you wonder why I'm bitter

Maybe that was the moment. You’re thinking he’s finally taking this seriously if you’re having a one on one dinner with his family for no special occasion. His parents compliment his growth. You’re more than willing to comply when he drags you off to the bathroom. You think you’re both caught up in the evening. When return is when you realize it was all to antagonize his parents. You go home alone.

Bragging to your friends, I get off when you hit it/ I hate to tell the truth, but I'm sorry, dude, you didn't

You confront him the next time you see him. For the first time you actually catch him talking with his friends about you. He’s gotten bold to do it with you around. You nearly blackout while burning with rage. You’re spewing every hurtful thing you’ve ever thought while he’s dragging you into a private space.

“What the hell was that?”

I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself/ Hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell

The invisible string that’s connected the two of you, he’s stretched so far that it’s finally snapped. You’re furious but you’re finally free. And you leave him. Not like any other time before, where you were meek and teary eyed. There’s no “I love you, but…” No, you’re red faced, voice hoarse, no decorum letting him have it. Everything.

You leave him a stuttering mess. Nothing left to say. Nothing to go back to. You’re broken but you’re free.

And his pain is just beginning.