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Falling Into Me
Read on A03!
Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Smut (p in v, fingering, oral f receiving), angst, loss of virginity, light fluff, feelings :(, real bad self-image issues
Summary/Warnings: You're a virgin, and it's really not a big deal. Everyone was a virgin once. You're just a virgin longer. Maybe forever, because nobody really seems to be willing to solve that problem for you.
You've never told Sam and Dean, and you don't have any intention to. Ever. But when a hunt goes wrong, Dean finds out. And he might have been keeping something from you as well.
Author's Note: This might be the horniest thing I've ever written. Enjoy <3!
Title from Red Wine Supernova by Chappell Roan
Word Count: 8.9k
You haven’t slept in three days, and it’s starting to be a problem. But you can’t afford to sleep. You can only drink staler and staler coffee, sit at the motel table, and pretend this is a case that, somehow, you’re going to solve. That Dean isn’t grumpier than usual, and Sam doesn’t constantly look like he’s going to kill the next person that dares to have an incorrect idea. It’s why you volunteered for the next round of interviews. You don’t want to be there when one of them snaps and kills the other, and while you wouldn’t love to return to the room and find it covered in blood, at least then you’d have an excuse to call it.
You wouldn’t call it. You’d work the case until it was done, because that’s what you do. And Sam and Dean won’t kill each other, because they’re Sam and Dean. That said, you are expecting a pouting Dean to pacing back and forth outside the room as he waits for you to return, and a grumble about how Sammy said he was being annoying and needed to walk it off. You’re more than prepared to give him a sympathetic smile and ask him if he was being annoying. And he’ll probably protest that he wasn’t, and you’ll raise your brows, and he’ll admit he mighta been drumming really loud while eating the chips.
It’s not an unreasonable expectation. None of you have slept, because this thing is insane. There’s no obvious pattern to the victims, no connections, nothing in line with everything you’ve ever seen. It’s men and woman, a wide age range, no previous coflicts or knowledge of each other in life. There are holes through theirs chests that could be bullet wounds, but obviously aren’t, because Bullets don’t remove the heart from the body. But it’s not werewolves, because werewolves aren’t clean killers like this and every fucking person in this stupid town has passed the silver test. There’s a new kill every night, and a new body every morning, and another reason for you, Sam, and Dean to start screaming every day. Every hour makes you all wired, because it’s closer and closer to another evening where you won’t have caught this asshole and another person will die.
And it’s become really easy to get on each other’s nerves. Sam was mad at Dean because he’d purposefully gotten you all burgers instead of Sam’s rabbit food, you’re mad at Sam because he said you were bad at poker—and you are, but what the fuck—and Dean’s mad at you because-
Dean’s not mad at you. You and Dean don’t really get mad at each other. You understand each other, better than you’ve ever understood anyone else, and it’s the perfect amount of alike that you’ll lend him grace you wouldn’t lend anyone else—including yourself—but you don’t see enough of your own twisting, molding innards to hate him. You mostly see something better. A man that has all the same rotting parts, but has made something out of them while you just waste away in toxins.
And you think Dean sees something similar in you. It’s why you’d been obnoxiously chewing potato chips, right in his ear, and he hadn’t punched you or snatched the bag away from your hands. He’d just rolled his eyes, grabbed one of his own, and started chewing in Sam’s ear.
So you hadn’t really volunteered for interviews so much as been aggressively told by Sam you were doing interviews. And it was only fair Dean met the same fate.
But he hadn’t. And when you opened the door to the room, they both looked happy.
Dean practically shouts your name when he sees you, wildly gesturing for you to join them at the table. “Sammy found it!” He grins at you almost manically, and it’s a little adorable. “We can finally fucking leave.”
“I might have found it,” Sam corrects, his smile a little more tentative, but still real. “And we can’t leave yet. Not until we actually get the thing-“
“Obviously, dude, but that’ll be soon, instead of in a million years.” Dean looks to you for agreement. “I mean, c’mon. You guys can’t really wanna stay in hicktown Ohio forever?”
You shrug. “I dunno. Good coffee.”
Dean glares at you. “The coffee tastes like ass and you freakin’ know it-“
“Dean.” You give him a flat look. “Do I actually get to know what the monster is?”
Sam sighs. “You’re not gonna like it.”
“I already don’t love it, it’s a monster that’s killed like, ten people-“
“Worse than that.” Dean lets out a dry chuckle. “It’s sorta like a dragon.”
You, very suddenly, don’t feel really well. Everything is hotter than it had been a second ago, and the walls seem to be closing in as your skin begins to prickle and ache. “Like a dragon?” You ask, forcing your voice to remain steady. “Or a dragon?”
“Like a dragon. Tell her, Sammy.”
Sam shoots Dean a glare—not happy being thrown under the bus—and mutters, “It’s a unicorn.”
You stare at him for a long minute, then shake your head. “It’s a what.”
“Unicorn.” Sam mumbles. “They’re, uh, looks like they’re real.”
“But not Pinky Pie and Disney.” Dean adds, turning Sam’s laptop for you to read. “Real fucking assholes.”
“They hunt virgins.” Sam explains. “To bond with. And it’ll kill anyone who falsely lures it.”
“Stab the poor son of a bitch right through the heart, then pull that sucker right out.” Dean adds, spreading his legs and propping his elbows on his knees. “And it looks like it’ll go after chicks and dudes, any age, so that’s why there’s no pattern. You’re able to fuck, you’re fair game.”
“Oh, cool.” You mutter, a lump starting to form in your throat. “I’m always looking for equal opportunity murderers in the monsters I hunt.”
“Yeah, well, it’s gonna make it a little harder to find the thing.” Sam grabs his laptop back, frowning at the screen. “It’ll take a human form, then look for a virgin. And it won’t be able to tell until it gets the person’s heartbeat up, so it might be a guy or a girl, depending on who it’s hunting tonight.”
“But,” you glance at Dean, who’s grinning as you start to put it together. “It is hunting tonight.”
“Hunts every night.” Dean says, rubbing his hands together. “And we don’t know where, but we can take some guesses. Split up and look at all the bars in town ’till one of us finds something, then gank this douchebag and get the hell out of here.”
“Split up?” You whisper, something wired and flailing coiling around your guts. “That’s, um, shouldn’t we stick together? If it’ll go after anyone?”
“Not everyone.” Same shrugs. “Low, uh, body counts. I guess. Low enough that it can’t tell immediately.”
“So we just need a bunch of whores?"
Dean snorts. “Well tonight,” he spreads his arms, shooting you a wink that really isn’t helpful right now. “We’re the whores, Sweetheart. We’re safe, and we’re going to kick some unicorn ass.”
It’s a cheesy, stupid thing to say, and usually you’d laugh and crack a joke back. Something about unicorn ass and whores that you can’t really think of right now, because there’s bile in your throat and something heavy fogging over your brain.
“How do we, uh,” your tongue is numb in your mouth, and every word is dragged out of your throat. “How do we kick a unicorn’s ass.”
“Well, we’re looking for electrical malfunctions, golden eyes when it gets, uh, excited, and a refusal to drink anything but water.” Sam frowns at the screen, looking up at you with a half-shrug. “Anything amoral seems to knock it down, so just, uh, swear? Then shoot it with iron. Iron kills it.”
“And, um,” you swallow, tugging at the fabric of your sleeves. “What’s gonna to the virgin? If the unicorn finds it?”
Sam sighs. “They, uh, they seem to use them.”
Dean frowns, leaning around to try and read the screen. “Use them-“
“Their purity. Use their purity.” Sam raises his brows, and you can see the exact moment it clicks in Dean’s head.
“That’s...” Dean trails off, running a hand over his face. “Shit.”
Sam mutters an agreement, and your mouth feels like sandpaper, your heart beating like it’s trying to escape your chest.
“And after?” You whisper, a little unsure you want to actually ask the question, or know the answer. “After they’re used?”
“Well, they’re not ‘pure’ anymore.” Sam puts an air quote around pure, and you feel a little sick. “So, uh, stab.”
“Oh.” You nod slowly. You might need to lie down. “Stab.”
Dean looks over you with a drawn brow, his voice low and cautious as he says your name. “Are feelin’ okay-“
“I’m fine.” You remember how to smile, and hope it looks real. Not like your teeth are starting to feel out of place in your mouth, and you can’t seem to find enough spit to choke on. “Let’s get the unicorn ass.”
Dean doesn’t look convinced. Hell, Sam doesn’t look convinced. But they both let it go for now, and you can breathe just a little easier knowing you’re not barreling towards a fight.
But only a little easier.
Because you’re fucked.
Virginity is a funny thing. It’s just a social construct, but it’s a social construct some monsters seem to take as scripture, making it a hazardous thing to still have in your line of work.
And you hadn’t meant to be a hazard. It just kind of happened. Because it started as something that was a given to have, then turned into something that you just were a little too busy to lose, before becoming an awkward conversation you’re not willing to have. Something that hangs, silent and sharp, over your head and around your throat. Something that’s now a question of why? Why is it never you? You’re not ugly. You’re even pretty enough that, if you tell someone, they won’t believe you and it’ll all feel worse. You’re even pretty enough that you’ve seen people size you up at bars, but none of them ever approach you.
So it might just be you. You might just have something on your face that gives away that you’re more trouble than you’re worth, a little too rough to touch and not have it sting, telling people stay away.
And Sam and Dean will never know. You’re already a little younger, a little worse of a hunter, a small problem when they’re obviously trying to take someone to their bed but the girl sees you and makes quick and inaccurate assumptions. Sam is better at brushing them off—She’s like my little sister—but Dean gets red and awkward and suddenly loses all his well-practiced charm. He sulks back to the table, and won’t look you in the eyes for an hour or walk with you back to the bar. You’re honestly shocked neither of them have thrown you to the curb by now, an you’re not going to give them another reason to. Another reason for Sam to make a sad, puppy-eyed pity face and Dean to stare at you like he’s not sure you’re real. Like there’s no way someone could’ve possibility survived as a hunter like this.
And a small, well-contained part of you wishes Dean would look at you the way he looks at other women. Like they still have beautiful, horrible secrets that he’d love to uncover with only his hands and mouth.
You’ve got secrets. Dean can’t have them—because they’re a liability and you’re not looking to lose him forever—but you really wish he’d just look at you. Once, really look at you, and not see you. See something so much better, that you think he’s always a little close to finding, that nobody else ever seems willing to try and look for.
You’re a little grateful they left you alone in this backwater dive bar. It would hurt to watch Dean flirt right now, when everything feels raw and wired in your body, and every time someone drops next to you at the bar you feel more and more sick. There are quick, polite conversations with random strangers who sound like they’d rather be anywhere than here, with you, and by the time you’ve repeated your cover story for the eighth time your lungs are wrapped iron and your nails feel like a burden on your fingers.
It’ll be over by tonight. All three of you know what you’re looking for, so the unicorn will be dead before sunrise, and you won’t have to do any explanations about why you’ve been quiet and tense since Dean said like a dragon. Nobody will look at you with pity or confusion, nobody will get hurt, and you won’t end up with a hole in your heart as the only people that have ever seen you to be worth something realize just how wrong they were. That you’re really just a small, useless burden that even a literal monster wouldn’t be able to stomach the presence of-
“You here all by yourself?”
Something sparks in your gut at the voice, coming from off to the side, because for a second you really think it’s Dean. It’s deep, moves through your whole body, and knocks loose something in your lower gut that always makes you feel hungry, but it’s not Dean. When you turn, the man next to you looks like someone ran Dean through a printer too many times and he came out faded. A little too short, not quite as broad, all the pretty scars that make Dean Dean seemingly vanished, and a gleam in his eyes that Dean’s never had. It’s a little more feral, without any playfulness or glowing shadows. Too much yellow instead of green, the cocky smirk just a little off, none of it right. None of it Dean.
“I’m, um,” you frown, because this man even smells like Dean. “I’m waiting for a friend. He’s running late.”
Not-Dean clicks his tongue. “Shame, leaving a pretty girl like you all alone. You want some company until your boyfriend shows up?”
You shake your head, turning your glass around in your hand. “Not my boyfriend. And I’m actually…” You trail off, your eyes falling on the man’s own glass. The clear liquid inside. “You drinking vodka?”
“Am I- Oh, sure.” The man chuckles, raising his drink for you to click. “Here’s to not-boyfriends-“
“Can I have some?”
You watch the man carefully as he looks between you and the glass. “Nah, sweetie, you don’t want this, it’s some strong stuff-“
Sweetie. Not sweetheart. Not Dean, not right, not safe. And something is starting to crawl over your skin and shoot up your spine, making you sit a little taller as your heart pounds louder and louder.
As Not-Dean licks his lips, and scans over you with yellow eyes that might be shining.
Fuck.
“I, um, I’m gonna go call my friend.” You start to shift off your seat, pulling your phone slowly out of your pocket. “He should’ve been here a few minutes ago, and I’m worried-“
“C’mon, you haven’t even told me your name.” Not-Dean wiggles his brows, and it looks wrong on his face. “Bet I can guess, if you give me a hint-“
“No, it’s fine, my name is, uh…” you look down at your phone, the screen completely black. You’d charged it before you left.
“Your name?” Not-Dean prompts, grabbing your arm. Holding you near him, at the bar. “I’d really love to learn it. I could teach you a few things in exchange-“
“I was never given a name!” Your voice is a frantic shout, Not-Dean’s eyes narrow, and you do the only thing you can think of. Punch Not-Dean square in the face, yank your arm from his grip, and run. Fucking sprint out of the bar and not allow yourself to falter as you hear a roar that’s a little hoarse and off pitched. Like a horse keen. Like a wounded animal.
Like a monster.
Splitting up had been a terrible fucking idea. Now you’re alone, you don’t have even an idea where Sam and Dean are, and you can’t afford to stop and jack a car because you can hear it in the distance. Hooves, clapping against the pavement, getting closer and closer as you begin to run out of breath. You can’t hide, it can hear you, and you can’t go faster because you already feel faint and everything is beginning to collapse in your body. Muscles tightening and skin crawling and eyes pushing out of your skull, every breath too shallow and every step too short.
You fall to your knees behind a truck, wrapping a hand around your own throat and trying to force your heartbeat back down. Slow, even breathes that come out in choked gasps, nails digging into your skin as the hooves slow, and you hear a low sputtering sound from somewhere behind you.
And it’s too quiet. You can’t hear anything but your blood in your ears, and all you can see in the night is the flickering yellow light of a streetlamp in the distance. You squeeze your eyes shut and swallow every breath, hoping you can force yourself out before the unicorn finds you. You don’t want to be used. You don’t want to be alone. You just want Dean, where’s Dean, why the fuck did you let him leave you alone, why didn’t you tell him the truth, why can’t you think of anything else but Dean, where’s Dean-
There’s something hot on your neck, and a large presence at your side. Something like spit is being splattered on your neck, and you can’t contain the vomit when a too-rough hand trails up your arm-
“Get the fuck back, you son of a bitch!”
A loud bang cuts through the air—making you jump out of your skin as a heavy body slumps onto yours—and it sounds like church bells and music. It sounds like Dean. That’s his voice shouting your name, his arms wrapping around your body and carrying you away from the unicorn, his breath fanning over your face as he sits you on the curb and starts to turn your face in his hands.
“Fuck, never should’ve left you, but I didn’t-“ Dean cuts himself off with a huff, and you think he’s talking to himself more than you. “Did the asshole touch you anywhere I can’t see?”
You shake your head, keeping your eye glued shut as you curl your hands in Dean’s shirt. Maybe Dean’s shirt. Not-Dean had been wearing plaid too, and you don’t have the nerve or will to open your eyes and seen if it’s your Dean, or the cheap unicorn knockoff.
“Shit, sweetheart, I need you to talk to me. Sam’s on his way, but we gotta get you out of here-“
“Didn’t touch me.” You whisper, fighting every urge into your body to curl forwards and start sobbing weak and pointless apologies. “I’m okay.”
“You’re okay? You think, fuck-“ Dean’s arm—bigger, warmer, maybe actual Dean—loops around your waist, his voice a little closer to your ear. “Need you to hold onto me, got it? We’re goin’ back to the car, and you gotta, fuck, can you open your damn eyes?”
They fly open, almost on command, and it’s Dean. The smell of whiskey is stronger, more authentic, and his face is sharp in all the right places, and it’s really Dean.
And he looks pissed. His touch on your body is careful, and his eyes are attentive and sparked with worry, but his jaw is clenched, and his every word is suddenly pushed through his teeth.
“You’re gonna hold onto me.” He orders, holding your wide-eyed gaze with a glower. “I’ll take a better look at you when we get back to the room-“
“Dean, I’m fine-“
“And,” Dean barrels on, as if he didn’t even hear you. “We’re going to have a chat. You’re, I can’t-” he shakes his head scooping you fully into his arms. “Just hold on.”
He sounds pissed. Dean’s rigid and silent the whole ride back to the hotel, his grip white-knuckled and tight on the wheel, and you feel even worse than before. This is it. He had to save you, and he’s going to learn why he had to save you, and he might not kick you out but he won’t look at you the same again. No more ease or awe or comfort or understanding, because Dean’s rotten in places where the mold can be burned away with every good part of him, but you’re just rotten. Just a hideous thing that roars in your chest, just angry and cowardlyand revolting and wrong. You’re just wrong.
All the panic and paralyzing adrenaline had left your body, so you push yourself out of the Impala on unsteady feet. Dean mutters something about Sam dealing with all the cleanup as he opens to motel room door, watching you shuffle inside with clenched fists and an unreadable expression. You flop onto the bed with a small whine, your body beginning to drown in exhaustion, your gaze locked on the peeling paint of the ceiling as Dean moves around the room out of your view.
“Why’d you come back?” You ask, your voice hoarse and weak, and Dean lets out a long, low exhale from somewhere off to the side.
“You were actin’ really weird.” He grunts. “Didn’t sound like yourself. Weren’t laughing at my jokes, or making fun of Sam. Looked sick every time one of us said stab.”
“I could’ve just been-“
“Don’t.” He snaps, and you crane your neck to see him at the foot of the bed, arms crossed and looking at you. Dean seems to be really looking at you, all of you, and you suddenly really wish he would stop. You’re complete exposed below him, under his glare, and he’s going to see something he hates. Something you don’t have a name for that you’ve never wanted him to see, never wanted him to find. The thing that makes everyone else look away.
But Dean’s attention is like a drug, and you need him to stop before you lose him, but you also never want him to stop watching you. It’s confusing and raw and makes you feel like a live wire, one word or touch or stare away from snapping and bursting into a million sparks.
And Dean’s still looking at you.
“I didn’t,” you swallow, his eyes like a magnet on yours. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry-“
“Don’t.” He repeats, his voice lower. Harsher. “You’re not injured.”
You shake your head.
“Good. We need to talk.”
“Dean, I-“
“I’m asking the questions.” Dean leers over you slightly, and you nod again. “Why the fuck did that unicorn seem like it was hunting you.”
He knows the answer. His whole face is already painted in anger, and you know he knows. He just wants to hear you say it.
“Because it was hunting me.”
“Unicorns only hunt virgins.” Dean grunts your name, still not looking away. “You’re not-“
“I am.” You mumble, folding your arms over your own body as you drop back down onto the mattress. “Sorry.”
“Why would you say, fuck- Why in goddamn hell wouldn’t you tell me and Sam-“
“Tell you and Sam what?” You scowl at the ceiling. “That I’m untouched? Pure? Boring-“
“That you’d be in danger!” Dean all but roars, and you don’t flinch, but you do cringe. All the mold in your body feels as if it’s spreading like cancer, because Dean would never hurt you with his hands, but he might be about to curb stomp your heart with only his mouth. “I don’t give a shit about the virgin thing, I care that you were so fucking stupid to go off alone, that you didn’t trust me enough-“
“It’s not about trust, Dean,” you sigh, squeezing your eyes shut again. “And it’s not like you tell me everything-“
“I do! I’ve told you about all the shit in my past, and my fear of flying, and Rhonda Hurley, and that weird freaking dream I had with the mice in top hats-“
“That’s not the same!” You’re pushing back up on your palms, raising your voice to match Dean’s. You just need him to stop yelling at you, to rip the band-aid off and finally give up on you so you can rest. “This isn’t your business-“
“It’s my business if it’s gonna get you fucking killed, Sweetheart. And I coulda helped you-“
“Helped me?” You scoff. “I don’t need your help with this, Winchester, I’ve come to terms with it-“
There was a brief moment where Dean had looked like you’d kicked him, but it vanishes in a second as he gapes at you in disbelief. “To terms with virginity?”
“Yeah,” you shrug, holding his suddenly slack expression with your own glare. “Nobody wants me, it’s not a big deal-“
Dean snorts. “There’s no damn way you’re that stupid-“
“I am not stupid-“
“Yeah? Cause you’re a fucking idiot if you think nobody wants you.”
It’s your turn to gape at him. Your heart stumbles slightly in your chest, your fingers curling into bedsheets, and the world begins to spin as you try and understand his words. “What?”
“You,” Dean takes a firm step forward, drawing your name. “Are a fucking idiot if you think that there’s not one damn person on the planet who wants you.”
“But-“
“Nah. No freakin’ buts.” He’s closer now, his knees bumping yours as he glowers down at you. “I’ve watched too many hair-gelled losers at bars size you up like they wanna take a bite for you to have buts. Hell, I’ve-“ Dean shakes his head, running a hand over his face. “Shit, there’s just, there’s no way-“
Your face twists back into a scowl. “Fuck off, Dean. It doesn’t matter if you believe me-“
“Oh, I believe you, Sweetheart.” Dean’s eyes flash, nostrils flaring as a low groan leaves his chest, rolling through the air and settling between your legs in an aching heat. “And I finally fucking get it. You just, you have no idea. I thought you just didn’t want it, but you’re just- Shit-“
“Dean,” your voice is soft, a little breathless, and can’t help but rub your thighs together as his hands start to flex at his sides. “I don’t know what you’re talking about-“
“I know,” he mutters, scanning over your body with an almost predatory expression. “I’m not, I just gotta,” his gaze flies back to yours, his voice suddenly stern. “Sam tell you how the unicorn choses its form?”
You blink. “Wha-“
“It takes the form that will be most appealing to the target. To help the asshole get attention quickly. That unicorn,” his voice drop, deeper than you’ve ever heard it, and it takes all the will you have to not start fall back into in the sheets. “Looked kinda like me.”
“I, um, I don’t-“
“Do you want me?” Dean grunts your name, and you make the mistake of dropping your gaze down, to his pants. To where an impressive outline is straining against his jeans.
“I’d, I mean, I’m not-“ You swallow, everything a dizzying haze of Dean. “Yeah, I think, but you’re not-“
“I’m not what?” He growls, kneeling down to your eye level, trailing a slow hand up your thigh. “Not interested?”
“Yeah?”
“Wrong.” Dean’s hand moves higher, trailing closer and closer to your center before running back down to your knee. “So incredibly wrong, Sweetheart. I’ve wanted you since, fuck, since I first saw ya’. But you didn’t seem to want me, so I backed off, but if you just didn’t-“ He pauses, his brilliant green eyes suddenly tearing into your soul, unraveling you before he’s even touched bare skin. “Do you? Want me?”
“I already said-“
“You said yeah.” He mutters, rubbing his hand is a slow pattern on your knee. “Need you to say the full thing, before I do anything else.”
Dean’s face is suddenly softer, with something that aches and tugs on your own heart shining through his eyes, and you couldn’t lie to him if you tried. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to Dean. It feels cruel, and wrong, and as if you’d be denying yourself something so good and rare it will never be replicated if you walk away now.
“I want you,” you whisper. “I’ve wanted you. But I’m not, it’s not going to be good for you. I mean, I know how to take care of that,” you point to the bulge in his pants, pressed slightly against your calf as he crouches before you, and Dean frowns. “But I’ve never, um, you know-“
“You’re not takin’ care of anything.” He says, scanning over your open face with drawn brows. “We’re doing this, it’s gonna be about you.”
“Oh.” There’s a little drool falling out of your mouth, Dean reaches up to swipe it away with his thumb, and your voice becomes a squeak. “Okay.”
“If you really wanna,” his mouth curves into a smirk, and you need it on yours now. “Next time, I’ll let you go to town on Little Dean.”
You can’t stop the small giggle escaping your lips, and it turns into a full laugh as Dean’s own grin grows, and nothing really feels that bad anymore. “Little Dean?”
“Compared to the rest of me, yeah.” Dean does a loose gesture at his broad, strong body, his grin growing cocky. Hungry. Starved. “But trust me, gorgeous. Ain’t nothing little about him.”
Your eyes widen, your thighs rubbing together as the need for him becomes almost unbearable, and Dean lets out a deep, low chuckle.
“You want me, babygirl?”
You nod, and Dean’s eyes narrow as he squeezes his hand on your leg.
“Need you to say it-“
“Yeah.” You whisper. “Yes, please.”
A grin splits over Dean’s handsome face, and his hand drifts to your stomach, his eyes never leaving yours as he drawls your name. “I’m gonna need to get you ready, so just,” he pushes you slightly, and you fall flat on your back, moving your own hands to hold his against you. “Stay there, look pretty, and let me work.”
You nod, your vision already a little blurred with desire as you stare at the ceiling. Dean draws back, shuffling around at the edge of the bed, and you look up to see his shirt gone. It’s all warm, slightly golden and freckled skin, strong and soft in all the right places. His muscles flex as he takes a long, deep breath, and big, calloused hands lowering to trace over your midriff, his eyes never leaving yours.
“What’d I say about stayin’ there-“
“I, um,” you gasp a little as his hand slips under your shirt, bunching the material and starting to slowly pull it over your chest. “I’ve done other stuff. Just so you know. And I’ve done things to myself-“
“I bet you have,” Dean mutters, wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you carefully against him as he helps you out of your clothing. “Shit, Sweetheart, you’re so damn beautiful. Can’t wait to taste you, touch you, fucking ruin you-“
You let out a high, needy moan, burying your face in his neck and mumbling against his skin. “Please, Dean, just-“
You cut yourself off with a gasp as his free hand slips into your pants, cupping your pussy over the fabric of your underwear and rubbing back and forth so torturously slow you might fly out of your skin.
“So wet for me already,” he grunts, tugging on your hair until you lean back, meeting his gaze. “Ready?”
You’re not sure what you need to be ready for, but as long as it’s Dean doing it, you’re good. You nod, wrapping your arm around his neck in silent affirmation, and Dean pulls back to pop open the button of your jeans with a single hand, offering himself easier access.
Two broad fingers toy with the hem of your panties, Dean’s eyes almost glittering as his attention falls to where he’s touching you. Watching your body shiver when he glides his thumb over your clothed slit, your hips jerk when he presses down on your clit, your legs stretch as wide as they can when he starts to rub small circles against you.
“Dean,” you whine, your free hand moving to cup his jaw, trying to move his gaze back to yours. “Please, shit-“
“That feel good, babygirl?” Dean starts to quicken his movements, adding small, teasing flicks and pinches that make your eyes roll back in your head. “You like me teasin’ you? Playin’ this pretty fuckin’ pussy until you’re soaked- Fuck-“
You start to grind on Dean’s hand, trying to chase relief while showing him that he didn’t need to play with or tease you. He has you, unraveled on his fingers and desperate for more of him, all of him, whatever he can offer you that will feel like this-
“Shit, you’re dripping.” Dean’s movement on your clit still as he drags his thumb down, resting right over your aching, already sensitive cunt, and pressing into you just enough to make you whimper. “I gotta taste you, Sweetheart, c’mon.”
His gaze shoots back to yours, something a little animalistic in his low, hoarse voice that almost makes you cum on the spot. “Need you hold on, pretty girl, we’re gonna get you out’a these.”
You nod, letting Dean lay you back down on the mattress, lifting your hips as he drags your jeans off your body, taking your underwear with them. Leaving to totally, completely naked on the bed. Vulnerable, entirely at his mercy, with not another place you’d wish to be in the world.
Dean crawls slightly over you, one of his hands tracing up your stomach, palming at your breasts, then rolling your nipple between two, rough, expert fingers. You gasp, arching slightly off the bed, and a low, deep groan rolls from Dean’s chest.
“Holy fuck, Sweetheart. You’re,” Dean cuts himself off, dropping his mouth to your other breast and latching plump, slightly chapped lips around your nipple. Your vision starts to line with light that might be angels coming to take you away, because this has to be heaven. This is better than heaven. Heaven wouldn’t allow such sinful things as Dean groaning against your skin, his boner pressing into your thigh, or his hand kneading at your ass. Someone shouldn’t be allowed to feel this good. This feels like everything, and blissfully nothing, and mostly just Dean.
You must have moaned his name, because he crashes up, fisting a hand in your hair as he pulls you into a sloppy kiss. All teeth and spit and burning need. Dean tastes like coffee and whiskey and syrup and fruit when he shoves his tongue down your throat, and he smells like gunpowder and leather as his weight hold you easily down, and his lips are so soft but so demanding as he practically devours you, and you’re high. He’s not even inside you yet and you’ll never have enough. This isn’t more than what you’ve done before, but Dean’s ruined you with just teasing touches and wet, starved kisses, and you’re starting to worry you might ascend when he actually fucks you.
He starts to kiss and suck a line over your jaw, down your neck, and between your breasts. It’s heavy and wanting, but still so carefully coordinated. Every move Dean makes seems to be calculated, because he nips at your collarbone right as he tugs on your hair, and the sound that leaves you is high and undignified and exactly what he wanted. His chuckle rumbles in his chest—now pressed against your stomach—and all you can do is moan as he continues his perfect torture. Licking one nipple as he pinches the other, dragging two fingers through your folds as he kisses down the plane of your stomach, stopping right at the apex of your thighs with glittering eyes and firm hands, slowly guiding your legs open.
“Shit.” He mutters, warm breath right over your pussy, making your hips jerk slightly. “Goddamn, baby, you’re responsive.“ A wide, smug grin overtakes Dean’s face as he pushes one finger into your pussy, and you squeak. “I’ve been waiting for this.” He growls your name, and starts to pump that finger in and out, the pace so slow and almost painfully good. “God, you have fucking idea how long- How bad-“ Dean groans as you squeeze around him, and adds another finger. “You’re making such pretty sounds, babygirl, better than I ever imagined. Shit, you’re sexier than a fucking dream.”
His eyes drift back to yours, and shiver goes up your spine from how Dean’s looking at you. Really looking at you. Watching your writhe in the sheets and plead for him in weak gasps, watching you at your most vulnerable state, and grinning like he loves what he sees. Like he’s never seen anything better.
“Dean,” you gasp as his fingers pick up speed, starting to scissor inside your dripping cunt, bumping against a tender spot inside of you that seems to sing under his touch. “Oh my god, Dean, please-“
“Such pretty sounds,” Dean grins at you, crooking his fingers against that same spot to rub. “Let’s see if we can make some more.”
Without further warning Dean drops back down, latches his lips onto your clit, and sucks it right into his mouth like candy. It’s almost immediate, how he pulls you from warm pleasure to raw, almost feral desperation. You’re right on the edge, grinding on his face as his stubble burns your inner thighs in the best was possible, his tongue flicking over that pulsing bundle of nerves, his fingers reaching a demanding and brutal pace-
“Fuck, I’m-“ You let out a loud moan as Dean growls against you, pulling at his short, soft hair to try and both move him away as you dangle over the drop, and urge him on to let him catch you when you fall. “Close, Dean, I’m close, please-“
He pulls away, and you almost scream from the loss. You even force yourself up to glare at him, but you’ve barely gotten a steady balance when a high, needy breath escapes you at the sight of him.
Dean’s towering over you, his pants discarded into another corners of the room, stroking his massive, fully-erect cock in one hand as he scans over your sweaty, flushed body.
“I wanna fuck you dumb, babygirl.” He grunts, and you can’t really hear him your own Dean-addled brain, so you just gape and moan, and he chuckles. “Shit, looks like we’re already halfway there. You got any words for me-“
“Dean, please.” The words start to fall out of your mouth with the slight drool on your chin, almost as if he’d commanded them. “Please, I need you, need you so bad-“
You spread your legs in offering, and Dean groans. “Fuck, Sweetheart, you can’t just-“ He closes his eyes, running a hand over his face, and there’s a moment before he speaks again where you worry you’ve ruined it. That you’d shown too much, or Dean saw too much, but no matter what this is over before you can even get that huge, glorious cock inside of you-
“I’m sorry-“
Dean frowns, his brow drawn as he looks down at you. “What the hell are you sorry for.”
“I dunno, I’m just not-“ You swallow. “I’m not good at this, I don’t know what to say-“
He grunts your name, prowling over your body under your trapped between his strong body and the bed, unable to escape his intense, searing gaze. Looking at you, examining you, and not flinching or moving away. “You,” he says, tracing one gentle hand over your cheekbones. “Are fuckin’ amazing at this.”
You can only gape at him, so he keeps going.
“I’m the one that might fuck this up, Sweetheart. You’re so,” he makes a loose gesture to your body, and you really wish he’d use words, but the look of sheer awe in his eyes will be enough for now. “And I get to do this for you, and I’m not trying to blow my load before you even cum once.”
“I almost came.” You offer him a small smile, your fingers tracing over the sharp line of his jaw. “But you stopped me.”
He lets out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, well, I’m plannin’ to make that up to you. If you still-“
“I want it.” You cut him off quickly, rolling your hips up, right against his cock. “Please, Dean, I really want it.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, dropping a little further down. “Are you-“
“I’m sure.” You guide Dean’s lips back to yours in a soft, almost sweet kiss, and say the words you really hope will snap whatever leash he’s put on himself. “I want you.”
It works. Something flashes in Dean’s eyes, and his hand snakes between your bodies, finding your clit and rolling it in slow circles as he growls in your ear.
“Wanna feel you, babygirl. Fuck you raw. I’m clean, but if you want me to grab a rubber you’re gonna need to keep yourself going while I-“
“No!” You almost yelp, wrapping your arms around him in a desperate attempt to keep him above you. “I mean, I’m clean too, obviously, and I take birth control just for like, lady stuff-“
Dean raises his brows at you. “Lady stuff?”
“It kinda helps with period cramps and-“ You cut yourself off with a moan as Dean flicks your clit, tossing your head back you start to squirm, trying to catch him into you. “Fuck, Dean, please just fuck me-“
“You mean like this?” Dean guides the head of his cock inside you, and your mouth falls open in a silent scream. “Fuck ya’ like this, baby?”
You grind on him, scratching at his back as you plead. “Shit, that’s, Dean that’s good, more-“
“More, baby? You need more already?” His grin is shit-eating, and you’d hit him if the dark look of lust in his eyes, the baritone of his voice being several octaves lower than you’ve ever heard it, and the throbbing ache of him starting to split you open wasn’t rending your limbs only putty in his arms.
“Dean, please-“
You might stop breathing as Dean guides himself fully into you, settling his face in your neck as he bottoms out. There’s a long moment where it’s only Dean’s warmth over and inside you as he gives you time to adjust, groaning against your skin as you squeeze around him.
“Shit, Sweetheart, you’re so tight.” He kisses right behind your ear. “Feel, fuck, feel so good around my cock, so fuckin’ good-“ He emphasizes his words with one, short thrust that pushes him right against that one spot and makes you whine. “You ready, baby? Ready for me to pound this tight little pussy until you cum all over my cock-“
You almost yank him back down into a desperate, borderline feral kiss, because if he kept talking you might have cum from just the sound of his low, rough voice growling in your ear and rumbling in your chest.
Dean takes a long, ragged breath when he pulls away, and you roll your hips only once. Just enough for him to groans and fall back over you, kissing and sucking on your skin like he thinks you’ll vanish if he doesn’t mark you with his touch.
Then he starts to move, and you were right. This is heaven. Dean’s moving so slow, pulling almost all the way out before driving back inside, until you’re fully impaled on him—his cock pressed fully against that one spot, making your whole body feel warm and alight, and your head feel a little dizzy—then repeating the movement again. And again. Over and over, so fucking slow, still leaving softer, slightly uneven kisses along your collarbone and grunts against your skin but-
“Dean,” you gasp his name, your nails digging into the muscles of his broad back as he continues to move on you. “Fuck, Dean, go faster, please-“
He rises up to meet your eyes, an unreadable expression on his face that’s made entirely hunger and want, but edged with something a little stronger you don’t understand. “You sure-“
“Yes.” You’re practically whining, scratching at Dean’s skin as you squirm under him, desperate him to really, properly fuck you. “Please, Dean, feels so good, need more, need you-“
He shakes his head slightly. “Don’t wanna hurt you-“
“Not gonna-” you let out a breathy moan as Dean pushes back into you, the movement a little harsher than before, and so fucking good. “You won’t hurt me, please, Dean, fuck-“
“I’m-“
“You said,” you force your eyes to stay on Dean’s, even as he sits deep into you, cock throbbing against that soft spot and making you see stars. “You said you wanted to fuck me, Dean.” You raise your chin, grinding up into his torso until his throat bobs. “Fuck me.”
A low, primal noise leaves Dean’s mouth, and he fully snaps. You might have screamed his name when he began to move again—ramming into you at an unforgiving pace, creaking the bed and bruising your hips as he grabbed at your skin, molding you perfectly into his touch and body—but he swallows the noise with a deep kiss that makes your eyes go unfocused, your whole body slack and only for Dean to play with as he drags you higher. Slamming against that spot, balls slapping onto your ass, one free hand squeezing at your tits before dragging down your side and finding your clit-
“So fucking good, babygirl.” Dean groans into your mouth, and you think you might be floating or falling or flying, but it doesn’t matter because Dean grunting in your east and slamming into your dripping cunt, and that’s the whole world. “Look so good, all ruined and whiny, such a good fucking girl, taking this cock so well, made to be fucked so fucking pretty-“ He pinches your clit, and you whimper his name. “Wanna cum, baby? Wanna fucking soak this cock-“
“Yes,” you gasp, scratching at his back, muscles rippling as he drills into you. Something in you hopes it leaves a mark. That Dean feels you on his back a little forever, just like you know you’re going to feel him in your pussy and on your neck for the rest of your life. “Feels so good, Dean, feels so fucking good, wanna cum so bad-“
“Beg-“
Dean barely grunts your name before you bite on his upper lip, almost screaming into his mouth. “Please, Dean, please, need to cum, wanna cum so bad-“
“Shit, baby, you’re-“ Dean groans, his pace becoming uneven and thrusts slightly staggered, cock twitching deep inside you as he ruts into your aching, clenching pussy-
Dean flicks your clit once, sending your hips almost flying off the bed, and starts to rub you at a frantic, savage pace.
“Cum with me.” He growls your name, lips ghosting over yours and you stare at him under, cockdrunk, lidded eyes. “C’mon, baby, cum-“
Your scream is hoarse as your orgasm slams into you like a freight train—pure, drug-like bliss washing over your whole body, a soft haze of Dean settling behind your eyes and over your skin—and Dean roars as he slams open, warmth coating inside you and dripping between your thighs, down your ass, and onto the bed.
Dean rolls over, taking you with him, and remains carefully sheathed inside you as your cunt grows sensitive and your breathing slows back down. It helps that he keeps your ear pressed to his bare chest, where you can hear his heart beating. Calm and steady and strong, just as certain and constant as the man it’s inside.
As the man had been.
You’re not sure what he’s going to be now.
“That, ah,” Dean breaks the silence, his voice low and almost soft. “That do it?”
You smile against him. “If you mean take my virginity, then yeah, I think you did it-“
“No, I mean was it,” He groans, his arm shifting slightly around as his voice drops. “Was it good. For you.”
“Oh.” You nod slowly, trying not to hum like a needy fucking when Dean starts to run his fingers through your hair. “Yeah. Really good.” You stifle a moan as he twitches inside you. “It was awesome. Good, uh, good job?”
“Thanks, Sweetheart.” You can hear to smug grin in his voice, his free hand starting to rub soothingly on your back. “You were pretty fucking awesome yourself.”
There it is. You were pretty awesome. And he’s still inside you. And you need to know if you were awesome enough for something, anything to stick.
“You said, um,” you swallow, staring at his tattoo because you can’t bear to look at his face right now. “You said I could give you a blowjob next time. Did-“
“Did I mean it?”
You nod nervously, and Dean’s whole chest rumbles with his low laugh, rolling right through your body. He grunts your name, and—when you still don’t look at him—hooks a finger under your chin to guide your gaze to his.
“Look.” He sighs, and this is it. He did you a favor, and that’s it. He won’t stay, nobody stays, why would Dean Winchester be the one to stay-
“I get it,” you mumble, and wish you would find the will to make your body roll away from his. “You don’t need to explain-“
Dean’s grip on you remains firm, and his voice is a deep, amused drawl. It feels a little cruel in your gut, because you’d have really liked more. More would have been the best. You didn’t even need all of Dean, you’d just have really like more.
“You get it.” He raises his brows, and you nod again. “Sweetheart, you might want to actually hear the explainin’ part before you say anything.”
“I, um-“
“See, I’m a firm believer that all ladies should ride more than one dick in life. Too much of a good thing, ya know?” He winks at you, thrusting slightly up into you, and you flush. “But, if you’re taking applicants for long-term dicks, I’d have to be dumb not to apply. I’m never gonna complain if I get you all to myself.”
You stare at him, your voice barely a whisper. “So, um, you mean-“
“If you’ll have me,” he mutters. “I’ll take you up on that blowjob offer soon. And any other offers you’ve got.”
“Offers,” you swallow. “For long-term dicks?”
He shrugs—tracing a finger over your arm and refusing to meet your eyes—and it might be your turn to make the move.
“Dean.” You whisper, crawling up his chest just enough for his eyes to easily find yours. “I’d really like you being my long-term dick.”
He frowns. “Sounds stupid when you say it like that-“
You drop down to press a soft, tentative kiss against his lips, and he tenses for only a second before overtaking you. Deepening the kiss with his tongue pushing on your lower lip, groaning when you open for him without a moment’s hesitation, pinning you onto his chest with big, strong arms as you fall fully into him.
Dean pulls back for only a second, searching over your open expression—all affection and need for him, swollen lips and shallow breaths—until he finds what he’s looking for, and his face splits into a wide grin.
“If you’re lettin’ me,” he says, tucking a little bit of hair behind your ears. “I think I’ll stay your long-term dick for while, Sweetheart.”
“I’m letting you.” You whisper, a small smile pulling on your own lips. “But we need to come up with a better name than long-term dick.”
“Boyfriend?”
You stare at him for a second, unsure if this is real, because Dean just said that word like it was obvious. Not something he’s adamantly refused to be for anyone, ever, for the entire time you’ve known him. He said it like he was waiting to say it. And, looking at him—unfamiliar hope haunting the very deepest part of those perfect eyes, his grin so genuine but filled with nerves—you think he might have been. And all the money and glory and pleasure in the world couldn’t make you tell him no.
“Yeah,” you whisper. “Boyfriend’s good.”
Dean’s grin becomes almost boyish, and this last kiss is sweet. It’s a kiss in the rain, or under bleachers, or on a rooftop with nothing but time and peace around you.
And you and Dean have never had either of those things.
But you’d really like to and find them. And if it’s with Dean, you really think you could.
End Note: Look at Dean. Being Emotional. I'm so proud of him (I made him do that)
If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3
Taglist
@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature
#x reader#reader insert#romance#canon typical violence#jensen ackles#jensen ackles characters#godmadeaterribleerror#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#sam winchester#dean x reader#dean x you#dean fanfiction#smut#p in v sex#loss of virginity#virgin!reader#monster of the week#light angst
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DIDN'T GIVE UP
pairing; postrehab!rafe x sweetie reader
summary; after getting out of rehab, rafe is desperate to be intimate with you, so it feels like his whole world falls apart when he’s unable to arouse himself. but with plenty of commitment and a promise not to give up, he finally manages to succeed, even if it’s not in the way that you’d both wished for
content; talk of addiction and rehab, brief mention of overdose, erectile dysfunction, masturbation, handjob
authors note; re upload!
you hold rafe’s hand as you both walk inside. tonight has been so special, your first date since rafe got out of rehab. it had been intimate and quiet and comfortable. a lovely meal at the local gourmet restaurant filled with gentle loving touches had left you both wanting more, a more that neither of you had had for a while.
even before rehab, rafe had just stopped having sex with you. you’d thought you might get somewhere but then the od happened and he’d needed to go to rehab which meant you didn’t even see him for months.
you’re both so touch starved, no words need to be spoken before you’re both making your way up to the bedroom, kissing and fumbling with each other’s clothes, quickly and desperately.
“god— missed you so much,” he murmurs, hands on your hips as he backs through the bedroom door, turning and kicking it shut like he always used to when you first started sneaking around together.
you moan softly “me too. missed you rafe.” one of your hands wraps around his neck and the other comes down to palm at him through his pants, his bulge is noticeable but he’s not hard yet. you undo his zipper and touch him through his boxers.
you both move back towards the bed and you pull his dick out, taking it in your hand and starting to jerk him off, but you both notice something. that something being nothing, nothing is happening. his dick isn’t doing anything.
rafe frowns and you do the same, both of you look down as your hand keeps moving for no reaction. after about thirty seconds rafe steps away, “shit I– I didn’t know that would happen.” he rubs the back of his neck, “shit… shit.”
you step forward and place a hand on his arm, “oh rafe… hey I’m sure its normal.. you did just get outta rehab,” you try to pull him to look at you but he doesn’t, he stares straight at the floor and shrugs you off.
“no… I.. this happens when I’m high not– I’ve been sober for two months.” he exaggerates, you can hear his voice beginning to break. you had considered that this might be an obstacle but you weren’t expecting him to react like this, surely all it’s going to take is a bit of trial and error until he can get it up with as much ease as he used to.
though you suppose this must be hard for him. finally getting some normality back and he can’t even properly enjoy it. and you know how much he hates to feel emasculated. maybe it is a big deal for him. even though it’s not guaranteed to happen yet, the imminent possibility must have shocked him into a panic.
that’s fine, you’ve dealt with rafe under much more serious circumstances.
you step forward, more confident now that you have an idea of what the problem is and how you can solve it. “rafe, sweetie don’t panic,” you speak gently, “we’re gonna sort this out okay?”
rafe looks down at you, “sorry– sorry I’m.. just wasn’t expectin’ it..” he scratches the back of his neck, looking down at his uncovered self. you nod, understanding his distress.
“that’s okay, it was a surprise huh?” you stroke his arm gently, “you wanna try again?” you ask gently and he nods shakily, taking a calming breath before letting you guide him to the bed. he sits down first and then you climb on after him, straddling his lap and quickly managing to retain the mood you were in before.
you grind down a little and his hands come to your hips to help your movements like he normally would but he’s quickly letting out an agitated noise and pushing you off. “it’s not working,” he groans in frustration.
you pull yourself up to sit next to him. your hand comes to his chest, “oh baby,” you coo as you notice the tears welling in his eyes that he’s so obviously trying to hold back. in his mind not being able to get aroused is bad enough, crying would just make him pathetic.
“what do you wanna do huh?” you pry, stroking his chest now and coming up to kiss his shoulder. “I’m sure that there are things we can try… it’s only been a couple of minutes.” you try to reassure him but you’re pretty sure he’s going to be inconsolable until he can feel confident in himself again. in his mind, a couple of minutes should mean you’re already halfway through round two.
“I– I don’t understand,” he sniffles pitifully, not daring to make eye contact with you as he instead stares down at his completely motionless dick. “this wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.. I- I got sober.”
you kiss him again, “you did baby, you got sober,” you smile sympathetically, “and this is normal, its normal to have erectile dysfunction after stuff like this.” though that reassurance sets him off more.
“don’t– don’t call it that,” he snaps ever so slightly, shoulders tensing and momentarily shrugging your hand away, “I don’t– I can’t have a dysfunction, okay it’s– it’s gotta work.” his voice breaks just a little.
you nod, “okay… okay then we’ll make it work, okay?” you move your body so that you can look him in the eyes, you bring your hand up to cup his face. “you just tell me what you need, okay? we can do whatever you want, whatevers gonna help you.”
he thinks for a moment, you can see the cogs in his brain turning behind his eyes as he tries to find something that he thinks may help him. his lips are parted and his cheeks are slightly pink. he eventually seems to come to a conclusion, he hesitates for a moment before speaking tentatively, “can uh.. can I try doin’ it myself?”
you nod, “yeah, course baby.” you smile, proud of him for being able to articulate his need, “where do you want me? should I give you some privacy or–”
rafe shakes his head, “can you stay,” he asks, “please… just.. I really need you to be here.” he tries to avert his eyes, he’s embarrassed, you can tell, he reeks of humiliation and you wish that you could just take it away from him. after all that he’s been through in the past few months you feel this is the last thing he deserves.
“I’ll stay here,” you affirm, “I’ll stay here as long as you need okay? you just do whatever you need to do.” you move with him as his hand comes to grasp yours whilst the other supports him while he shakily manoeuvres himself to half sit half lay against the headboard.
you stay on the edge of the bed, keeping a hold of his hand as that is evidently what he wants you to do. his chest rises and falls slowly as he pushes his pants further down and then gently grasps his soft dick.
he begins to move tentatively, doing his best to throw his head back and not think about it. you stay quiet, just letting him figure it out for himself.
he manages to get it up, a little, you notice a look of clear relief on his face as he relishes in the sensation he’d worried that he wouldn’t get back. his movement quickens and then his face falls as he loses it.
you stroke his thumb with your own, “it’s okay baby, just take your time.” you murmur softly as his face scrunches up in annoyance. but he perseveres, hand going back down to try once again.
he tries, he really tries. he tries so many times, over and over again, and to both of your increasing dismay he keeps losing it over and over again too.
poor rafe, tears slip down his cheeks and he groans from sadness and surely a little pain at the fact that he’s basically rubbed himself raw down there. his tip is pink and angry, you have half a mind to tell him to stop but you fear he may hurt himself more if he can’t manage or stop on his own terms.
he huffs sadly. he knows he needs to stop too, “just– just one more try.” he says, “one more.” he nods decisively before looking up to you, almost as if to ask for your blessing to just try one more time.
of course you nod, “yeah, one more time. you’ve got this rafe,” you tell him, squeezing his hand reassuringly with a loving smile, hoping to encourage him to finally get it.
rafe starts again, slowly at first and then he builds up his movements, it takes a long few minutes but he manages to get himself hard, fully hard. he grunts and groans and you have to stop yourself from slipping a hand under your own underwear so as not to distract him from his moment.
after another long few minutes he practically cries out, then whimpers and then tears of relief fall down his cheeks as he finally cums. it’s not a lot, and it doesn’t last long, but it does him good. the feeling simply overwhelms him and he finally feels reassured that he can be normal again.
once he’s ridden it out you wipe the tears from his cheek with your free hand, “hey.” you smile down at him, “well done, you did so good.” you speak gently, “I’m so proud of you, you didn’t give up.”
rafe smiles, his previous humiliation replaced with pure bliss and relief, “yeah,” he nods, sighing breaths of relief, “didn’t give up.” maybe this evening didn’t go exactly as expected, but you think, with the circumstances, it turned out okay.
#lily writes 𝜗𝜚#rafe cameron prompt#postrehab!rafe#sweetie!reader#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron concept#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut
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You come home and see that babe got you a present. What's in the box?
The Perfect Gift
Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader
Word Count: 700 (exactly hehe)
Summary: Living in Jackson has given you as close to a normal life as you can get in the post apocalyptic world and Joel just makes it that much better.
Author's Note: Thank you my sweet Cia for sending such lovely thoughts my way! I was doing some yoga this morning and this idea hit me. I appreciate you always thinking of me! I hope you're having the best week and happiest holidays! HUGS and LOVE! ❤️Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy🥰
Warnings: Soft and sweet fluff
Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist
The world outside is muffled in a hush, every sound softened by the blanket of sparkling, cold snow. But inside, there’s only warmth.
A strong arm rests against the curve of your waist and calloused fingertips trace idle shapes on your soft skin. The steady rhythm of his breath is warm along your neck before his lips press delicate kisses down to your bare shoulder.
“Mornin’ darlin’,” he whispers, his voice still deep and rumbly with sleep.
You turn over, burying your face in his chest and mumbling, “good morning.”
He pulls you closer and kisses the top of your head.
“Ready to get up?” he chuckles.
“Is it still snowing?” you ask, keeping your face hidden.
He stirs slightly and after a short pause, quietly answers with a “yes.”
“Let’s stay in bed.”
“What about your present?” he murmurs.
At the mention of a gift, you blink open your eyes and reluctantly drag yourself from his warmth to meet his gaze.
“Gift?”
He nods with a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. You run your fingers through his mussed hair, twirling a stray curl around your fingers before softly kissing him.
“Ok. I can get up for that.”
“I thought so,” he grins with a wink.
He starts to move but you cling to his biceps. “But I don’t want you to leave,” you pout.
“I don’t have to go far,” he says and sits up to reach into the small makeshift nightstand next to the bed.
He pulls out a package, wrapped simply in brown paper with some twine holding it together. He suddenly looks nervous, his expression wide eyed with worry and your eyebrows draw in.
“Joel?”
Without blinking he stares at you and sets it in your lap.
You give him one last curious glance and pull at the string. The paper opens and out falls one of his flannels, your favorite one.
Your face lights up in a smile and you hug it to your chest, letting the sheet fall from your shoulders, revealing more of your naked skin.
He reaches out to touch you. “Do you like it? I know it’s nothing new, but I know how much you love wearing them. Now this one is officially yours.”
Pressing the soft fabric to your chest you bring the collar to your nose with a deep inhale.
Sighing softly, you whisper, “it’s perfect Joel. I love it!”
You throw yourself into his arms and he helps you put it on, slowly and carefully closing each button but not without brushing his knuckles along your skin, sending a shiver of goosebumps down your spine.
“There,” he says, looking you over. “My perfectly wrapped present.”
You giggle and run your hands down the front. As you do you feel something hard in the front pocket. You stop and look up to find Joel smiling softly.
“Find something else?”
When you reach into the pocket your fingers close around something small and cool and then you pull out your hand in your palm rests a simple gold band.
Your eyes widen and you suck in a gasp.
He takes it from your hand and grabs your chin between his fingers, tilting your face up to his.
“Darlin’,” he starts, his voice gruff with emotion. “I was so lost before. But now that I have you, I need you. Not in the ways to survive, but in the ways that make life worth living. I was made and meant to look for you and wait for you and become yours forever…that is, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”
The tears fall freely down your cheeks, and you manage a “yes,” just before your arms wind around his neck and you pepper him with kisses. He takes the ring and with a gentleness that makes your breath catch he slips it onto your left ring finger.
“I love you.”
Your words are a whisper, and he takes your hand in his, lifting it to his lips to kiss across your knuckles, then your palm and finally your wrist before your hand opens to cradle his cheek.
“I love you more,” he answers, closing his eyes.
#joel miller x reader#joel miller#pedro pascal#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller imagine#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal x reader
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A love like in the Christmas movies II Lea Schüller x Reader
romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1133
summary: Lea and Reader do a cozy Christmas movie marathon together. requested
author's note: Dear readers, have you spot the easter eggs from met someone ? Nonetheless, enjoy the fanfic. 🫶🏻🫶🏻
Everything was set for a great Christmas movies evening, the overhead lights were out, instead fairy lights and candles turned everything into a warm glow including your girlfriend’s and your face. It was perfect until a phone call interrupted the peaceful atmosphere.
“Wait, I’ll just take the call and then I’ll make us two cups of hot chocolates.”, Lea promised.
With an innocent smile on your lips, you asked her: “Okay. With marshmallows too?”,
“Of course.”, she loved warmly.
“Thank you.”, you mouthed still smiling as the blonde answered the phone call.
The Bayern Munich player didn’t expect to hear her friend this evening, the brunette was on the mission to find love in a queer bar which Georgia recommended. From the disappointment in Lena’s voice she could tell that it wasn’t going according to plan.
While the minutes’ passed by Lea was looking longingly at you cozying up in her sweater on the sofa, oh, what the forward would do to be back in your arms to watch a few Christmas movies sipping some hot beverage.
“Tomorrow at my place? I’ll cook a lot of hot chocolate and then we’ll watch a stupid romcom?”, the blonde offered her best friend.
“Didn’t you do that today already.”, the midfielder returned the question in a teasingly tone turning the older players cheek soft pink.
Touché, Lena knew her teammate all too well. Even though the younger woman mocked her lovingly, she agreed to come the next evening to do exactly what the striker suggested.
“Was that Lena?”, you asked your girlfriend curiously once the blonde ended the phone call.
“Yes, Lena’s not coming, the finding love in a bar sadly didn’t work out for her, but that means more space for us on the sofa. Do you want some Lebkuchen along side the hot chocolate.”, Lea nodded.
“Homemade or shop bought?”, you questioned.
“Sorry, I’m a very busy person just like yourself, so it’s not baked by me.”, your girlfriend chuckled, putting some gingerbread biscuits on a festive plate as the blonde waited for the drinks to be ready.
“That’s okay. I don’t trust your baking skills yet anyway.”, you teased smirking referring to the first time you properly met each other.
“Oh my god, it’s hard to cook while being filmed by such a gorgeous woman behind the camera, okay?”, she protested, her cheeks turning into an even deeper pink which you thought looked adorable on her.
“Oh, yeah sure.”, you replied and laughed nervously. Receiving compliments wasn't exactly one of your strengths. Although you knew that the striker meant every sweet word that crossed her lips.
To show that she was serious about it, she gave you an encouraging smile as she finally handed you a Christmas mug. “Trust me.“
“At least your hot chocolate is good.“, you subtly changed the topic after you took a sip from the hot chocolate, careful not to burn your mouth.
“It is, right? Have you chosen a Christmas movie yet?”, Leah asked while sitting back down on the sofa.
“I have. I hope you like it too.“, you nodded and pressed play.
You were not surprised that she recognised the movie within the first few minutes.
“Happiest season?”
“Yes?”, you confirmed, uncertain if she even liked the movie.
Lea tilted her head as if she was considering your choice for a moment. “I mean sure. Even though Audrey Plaza and Kristen Stewart should have ended up together, so if they ever do a part two and you direct it, it needs to be about them getting together.“
You tried hard not to laugh as you reminded her: “Lea, I do sports documentaries.“
“Just saying.“, she shrugged.
“Okay, I will tell my agent that she should keep an eye out for that.“, you joked.
Lea nodded with a grin: “She better should. I know you would do a better job.“
“You think so?”, you laughed.
“Yes.“
But you could tell that Leas thoughts were somewhere else all of a sudden. She had been staring at the plate of chocolate covered gingerbreads without saying anything else until you realized what was going on.
“Are you calculating how many Lebkuchen each of us get? You’re such a math nerd.“
The striker looked back up at you, her mouth opened in a little offended O. “What do you mean math nerd? Who wouldn’t? I just want to share them fairly.“
“You know what I meant.“, you continued to tease her with a smirk.
Rolling her eyes, she agreed: “Yeah, I do.“
“See.“
You only spend a few minutes watching the movie in silence until Lea asked: “What would happen in a Christmas movie you made?”
You tore your eyes away from the screen, taking a moment to think about that question while Lea watched you curiously.
“Easy. I’d let protagonist A and protagonist B meet three Christmases in a row. The first time A is in a relationship while B is single, the next Christmas it would be the other way around and then on the third Christmas they would finally get together.”, you explained.
Leas eyes narrowed: “Wait, this is our story.”
“Says who?”, you asked innocently.
“So I’m person A.”, Lea concluded.
“Maybe yes, maybe no. Fiction doesn’t work like that, meine Liebe.”, you shrugged. The truth was that it was in fact about the two of you. Two years ago, you had been working on a short documentary about Leas career and immediately found that you liked her but she was in a relationship.
You kept in touch and a year later you accidentally ran into each other again right before Christmas but at that point you were dating someone who you thought could be the right person. Until Lea. And now you were sitting in her living room as girlfriends and discussing if your story would make a good plot for a Christmas movie.
“Yes, it does!”, Lea protested.
“If you say so. You can choose the next Christmas movie.“, you said while pointing towards the TV where the credits flickered across the screen already.
“Okay, fine.“, the football player agreed but instead of taking the remote, she just studied you.
“What? Or… do you want to do something else?”
“I mean I have a few suggestions.“ Her blue eyes lit up as she flashed you an innocent smile.
“Which ones?”
You watched Lea bite her lip in response, a flash of impatience on her face as she got up from the sofa. She gently pulled you up with her and winked: “Let’s go.“
You made your way to the bedroom. The lights on her Christmas tree were still on and the hot chocolate mugs stood forgotten on the coffee table. It didn’t matter. You both waited too long to finally spend this Christmas together.
Christmas/Winter Oneshots
if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !
#lea schüller#lea schuller#lea schüller x reader#lea schüller imagine#lea schuller imagine#lea schuller x reader#lena oberdorf#lena oberdorf x reader#lena oberdorf imagine#woso x reader#woso community#woso#woso imagine#woso fanfics#woso x y/n#woso blurbs#woso one shot#woso oneshot#woso fluff#dfb frauen#dfb frauen x reader#gerwnt#gerwnt x reader#bayern frauen#bayern munich frauen
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𝐲𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞
summary: being an assistant to a Hollywood star has its perks like attending a lavish holiday event that’s brimming with celebrities.
warnings: fluff! dieter bravo x afab!reader. meet cute? kissing. Christmas vibes. mistletoe. dieter being his usual silly self. w.c: 1.7k
author’s note: this is a gift for @jennaispunk via the @dieterbravobrainrotclub Holiday Gift Exchange! I hope you enjoy this lil’ fic, Jenn! Happy Holidays, lovely! 💙 thank you @sp00kymulderr for hosting!
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⋅ 𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭
It was the kind of holiday party where everything felt just a little bit brighter—lights twinkling from every corner, the smell of cinnamon and pine hanging in the air, laughter rising over soft jazz in the background. A sleek modern mansion nestled in the Hollywood Hills hosting the annual gathering.
You adjusted the straps of your dress while you sat at the bar. It was a sleek dark red velvet number you'd picked up on sale, hoping it'd help you fit into the glamorous party and not stick out like a sore thumb.
You glanced at your phone, scrolling through a few emails you needed to catch up on. As an assistant to one of the hottest new actors in Hollywood, your life was a constant balancing act, but tonight, for once, it was about a bit of relaxation.
"Feel free to unwind," Your boss says, adjusting their outfit in the back seat of the SUV on the way to the festive soiree. "No need to keep an eye on me. Darren Eigan will be there, so I'll be stuck to him like glue."
You turn in your seat and lean against the bar, surveying the party. From across the room, you spy your boss eagerly chatting up the infamous director. They'd gushed about wanting to work with him for years. You couldn't blame them for trying.
Your eyes scanned the room again as you slowly sipped the tart purple wine. You'd never been a drinker, so the glass felt more like a prop than something to enjoy.
A raucous laugh catches your ear.
He was standing, drinking glass in hand, with a group of people near the opening of a dazzling archway decorated with little sprigs of green mistletoe tied with a bright red bow.
You knew a fake laugh from a mile away. You learned the craft when you moved to LA, having to grace a phony smile and compliment almost every second of the day.
Dieter Bravo. Hollywood's reluctant star— known for his roles in blockbusters and indie films and winning an oh-so-coveted Oscar. You were surprised to see him at a party like this. He seemed to be the loner kind, much preferring to work on his art than bullshit his night away.
His salt and pepper curls helped prop the shades he wore like a shield, ready to slip the glasses down his hooked nose and sneak out the back door at a moment's notice. The first three buttons on his black silk shirt were left open; his golden skin glowed in the dim room. His black on black attire looked crisp and expensive, like the gray scruff filling his jaw and lining his lips.
Something was magnetic about him—his presence drew others in without trying or caring.
Someone in the group spoke, and Dieter laughed again. Another half-hearted smile tugged at his lips before falling into a thin, flat line.
You found yourself slipping from your seat and leaving your drink behind as you moved closer. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe because Dieter resonated with your pain. Even in a crowd full of joy and glittering faces, you felt alone.
As you neared the group, your heel caught on an ugly red and green throw rug, making you tumble into the actor and ceasing the chatter.
"Whoa, hey now," Dieter blurts, catching you with one arm.
He weaved it securely around your waist as you both stumbled away from the group. You clutched his broad shoulders, a safe haven if you ever knew one, and steadied your heels back on the ground. Thankfully, his drink didn’t spill all over his suit and your dress.
"You okay?" Dieter's voice was warm and familiar despite the fact you'd had never met him before. His hands lingered on your waist, a wry thumb rubbing the dark butter like velvet, zeroing all his attention on you.
You cleared your throat and bid the flames that fanned your cheeks away. "I'm so sorry. I normally don't wear heels." You apologize. "Pobody's Nerfect!"
Dieter's dark eyes caught like a bright starscape in the sparkling overhead lights as he laughed wholeheartedly at the silly phrase. It was genuine and natural, forcing himself to hold his belly and bowl over with honest laughter.
As he catches his breath, he wipes a tear from his eye. "Did you come up with that?"
You shrugged and waved a hand, "I wish. I'm not that clever."
"I highly doubt that." the actor comments, before taking a sip of his drink. “You must be someone special to be invited to a party like this." He raises the glass toward the throngs of people filling the massive living room.
You cock your head. "My boss is someone special. Thankfully, they need me like a goose needs a gaggle."
His eyes go wide once more. "There you go again!"
You wave him off, but inside, you're melting.
A waiter places a tray of food on a table to your right, distracting the both of you.
"Do you think anyone actually eats these tiny hors d'oeuvres, or are they for like little Christmas elves?" Dieter asked, glancing at a tray of tiny canapés.
You chuckled. "I'm pretty sure they're just to make the people who aren't drinking feel productive. Like, here, eat this, pretend you're having a full meal."
He laughed again. It gets better every time you hear it— it lights up the room.
"Wanna be productive with me?" he flirts, picking up one of the tiny snacks and holding it out to you with doe eyes.
You quirked a brow, hesitant for a split second before biting into the canapés. It was absurdly delicious for something so small, and you giggled, caught off guard by how natural it felt to talk to him.
"How do you look so... untouchable on screen and so normal off it?" you question without thinking.
Dieter tilted his head, his smile softening. "I'm really good at pretending." He drifts off, eyes wandering to the floor, thoughts drifting to the front of his mind before he takes a healthy swig from his glass. "Sometimes it's nice to escape yourself for a while."
You nod, understanding the need to run away.
"Are you working on any new art?" You try to lighten the mood, glancing at the red paint under his trimmed nails. "I can't wait for the next mind-bending piece from the one and only Mr. Bravo."
He smiled again, that knowing, almost mischievous look in his eyes. "Wouldn't little Ms. Canapés like to know." he teases, the warmth in his voice holding something more than just casual conversation.
Just then, someone at the bar called his name. Dieter turned his head, briefly distracted by the person waving him over. You take a timid step back, wishing you had more time with the artist, but before you can move, a reveler nudges you toward the archway where the mistletoe hangs.
You glanced at Dieter, who was still distracted by the call but now seemed to have noticed where you were standing. He looked at you with a wry smirk.
"Do you believe in fate?" he queries, his voice suddenly quieter.
You whisper, heart in your throat. "I suppose so."
He takes a step toward you, his leather wing tips shuffle against the floor, and for a moment, the noise of the party fades as the space between you closes. The dim lights cast shadows that make his features even more inviting. There was something in his gaze—something natural and soft that wasn't at all like the characters he portrayed on screen.
Without a word, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that felt like it had been waiting to happen. It wasn't dramatic or rushed, just slow and honest, as though the mistletoe wasn't just some holiday tradition but the beginning of something unexpected.
When you pull away, Dieter smiles again, this time with a hint of surprise. "That was... festive."
You chuckle, a little breathless. "I hope I'm still on Santa's Nice List now."
"The Nice List?" Dieter raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, don't you want to get what you wished for?" You jibe, grin widening as you step back, giving him space to leave.
Dieter snorts, glancing toward the bar as more people wave him over. "Oh, but I already did," he winks.
Your face flames. You bite your cheek, trying your best to not squeal.
The two of you share one last look before the crowd pulls him away. Neither of you could quite shake the moment.
As the night continued, shared glances from across the room kept you busy. Every conversation with someone new resulted in sincere apologies when you had them repeat what they said because a particular actor kept stealing your attention.
It seemed you distracted him just as much at times. You caught him dragging his eyes down your frame and back up again. He'd either cower like a thief caught red-handed or gaze at you like he wanted to watch the sun come up with you in his bed.
The crowd of people slowly dwindled down as the clock struck midnight. Much to your dismay, you'd lost sight of Dieter an hour ago when he stepped out onto the back patio for a smoke with a fellow actor. You begrudgingly slipped on your heavy coat, headed down the front steps to the SUV, idling at the curb, and waited for your boss.
Leaning against the passenger door, you slowly breathe in the crisp night. The heated feelings that swarmed your belly all evening finally simmered to a rolling boil.
"Canapés?"
You jerk against the metal door as a voice chimes to your right. You clutch your chest with a gasp.
Dieter appears from the shadows, hands raised, like he's dealing with a stray animal. "Shit, sorry, it's only me." He cringes at the slight fear in your eyes.
"You bastard." You curse with a playful huff. "Wait, did you just call me Canapés?"
He flashes an awkward grin and anxiously rubs the back of his neck. "Well, I forgot to ask your name, and I didn't realize until after we kissed, and then I thought it was too late. I don't want to be "that guy." Dieter mimes quotations in the air and swallows hard. "So, yeah."
You step closer, your heels clink against the cement, as you whisper your name and slink your arms around his shoulders. Dieter once again weaves his hold around your velvet waist, molding your body to his.
His plush lips brush across yours. "We don't have any mistletoe." He states cheekily.
"I would've kissed you without it in the first place." You confess, pressing your lips to his for another precious moment before he breaks the kiss.
"Wanna go make it on Santa’s Naughty list with me?"
feel free to scream at me -> 💌
reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!
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FALLING OUT OF FRAME | Part 9
pairing: you x drew starkey
authors note: hi friends, first of all so sorry for my delay in delivering you guys part 9! but if you hadn't read my post from last week, my phone basically got stolen which meant all of my drafts got deleted as well as some papers for my classes so it has been a rough couple of week. this is part 9, but later today or tomorrow i'll publish part 9.5 with their getaway. part 10 will be the last part of this series. Enjoy! <3
The soft hum of the car's engine was the only sound as Drew pulled up to the curb in front of your apartment. The city’s street lights flickered in the distance, casting long shadows over the quiet sidewalk. You glanced out the window, your chest tight as you stared at the building that had always felt like your refuge—but now, with Drew by your side, it felt more like a place of uncertainty.
The moment in his car earlier still lingered in your mind—the kiss you shared, ignited by the weight of your miscommunication and the sudden, raw honesty that had passed between the two of you. It was a spark, a fleeting glimpse of something that might have been… but was it enough to rebuild the trust you once had?
Drew turned off the engine, his hand hovering over the gear shift for a moment before he looked over at you. His gaze was soft, vulnerable—something you hadn't seen from him in a long time.
"Y/N," he began, his voice hesitant, as if choosing each word carefully, "I… I know I hurt you. And I don’t want to rush anything, but I also don’t want to keep pretending that this—that we—don’t matter to me." He took a deep breath, his hand sliding over the steering wheel. "I don't expect you to forgive me just because I say the words. I know it’s going to take more than that. But I need you to know that I’m trying. I’m trying for us."
You stared at him, your heart pounding, your emotions in turmoil. You wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that this wasn’t just another empty promise. But the doubts lingered like shadows, whispering that you couldn’t let yourself be vulnerable again, not after everything that had happened.
"Thank you for saying that," you said softly, avoiding his eyes as you spoke. "But you know… it’s going to take time. I can’t just jump back into this, Drew. I’m not sure if I’m even ready to open up again."
He nodded, though the sadness in his eyes was clear. "I know. And I’ll wait for as long as it takes." There was a pause, a heavy silence that settled between them. "But I’ll keep showing you, Y/N. I’ll keep proving that I’m not the same guy I was before."
His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The tension between you felt palpable, thick with the weight of unspoken thoughts.
Finally, you exhaled, a faint sigh escaping your lips as you unbuckled her seatbelt. "I should go," you said, glancing at him before opening the car door. "Thanks for the ride, Drew."
"Yeah," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll text you when I get home."
You nodded, stepping out of the car. As your hand closed around the door, you hesitated for a moment, then turned back to face him. Drew was still in the driver’s seat, watching you with a mix of longing and restraint. Without thinking, you took a step closer, and before either of you could say a word, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. It was soft, barely a brush of lips against skin, but it said everything you couldn’t put into words.
Drew’s eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause, the only thing that mattered was the connection between them—the unspoken hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find your way back to each other.
As you pulled away, you gave him a small, tentative smile. "Goodnight," you whispered, then turned and walked toward the building, your heart pounding in your chest.
You didn't know what the future held for the both of you, but tonight, in that fleeting moment, it felt like there was hope.
The Next Morning
You sat on the couch in your apartment, wrapped in a blanket with a steaming mug of tea cradled between your hands. You couldn’t stop thinking about Drew’s words, the sincerity behind them, the way he’d looked at you before she left. You had expected him to be the same as before, to show up with excuses and promises that didn’t hold weight—but he hadn’t. He’d shown you vulnerability, and for the first time in a long time, you had wondered if maybe you could find their way back.
The message pinged on your phone, a simple text from Drew:
Drew: I’ve been thinking about last night. And I just wanted to say… I’m really glad we’re taking this slow. I know it’s going to be hard, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to prove myself to you. You deserve that.
You smiled softly at the message. You had always been able to read between the lines with Drew, and something about this felt different. There was no rush, no pressure—just a quiet promise that he was willing to wait. That was something you weren't sure you could have imagined just a few weeks ago.
Your fingers hovered over the screen as you thought of how to reply, but before you could type anything, your phone buzzed again, this time with a call. You glanced at the screen. Drew. You answered, your heart skipping a beat.
“Hey,” you said, a little breathless.
“Hey,” Drew’s voice came through the line, calm but with an undertone of excitement. “I was wondering… if you’d want to do something this weekend. A getaway. Just the two of us, away from everything. No expectations, just time to relax and get to know each other again.”
The suggestion hung in the air, and for a moment, you felt her mind whirl. A getaway? It felt like exactly what you needed, but the idea of stepping away from the city, from everything that had happened—was it too soon?
But then again, maybe it was the right time. Maybe this was exactly what you needed to figure things out.
You took a breath and smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I think I’d like that,” you said, your voice steady but with a hint of excitement you hadn’t expected.
“Great,” Drew replied, relief in his voice. “I’ll plan it all. You just… pack a bag, and I’ll take care of the rest. I promise you’ll love it.”
As they hung up, you leaned back against the couch, feeling the tiniest spark of hope flicker inside you. Drew had changed—you could see it in the way he spoke, in the way he was acting, in the things he was willing to do. And maybe, just maybe, you were on the right path again.
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#drew starkey#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x female reader#obx season 4#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey imagines#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey smut#drew starkey angst#drew starkey fluff#fallingoutofframe the series#fallingoutofframe#starkeyslibrary
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DOUBLE OR NOTHING
after countless empty promises spilled from his lips, you wanted to believe that he’d show up to your anniversary of all things.
FEATURING: toji fushiguro x wife! reader
CONTENTS: non canon compliant/au, marriage problems, talks of divorce, angst, smut, porn w/out plot rly, unprotected p in v, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, doggy, missionary against a wall, pet names (ma, princess, etc.)
WORD COUNT: 4.9k
AUTHOR’S NOTE: repost bc i need this dilf in my bed rn 😞
"I'll make it home to you by six, mama. Take you out on a nice date, get you some flowers, all that stuff you like. Promise."
The clock was nearing eight o'clock with no signs of Toji coming through the door anytime soon, your own patience starting to run out with every tick. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. The sound echoed through your ears since you'd sat down on the leather couch nearly two hours ago, waiting for Toji to fulfill the promise. A promise that he'd made after flaking out on the date planned prior to that one.
And prior to that one. And prior. It'd been more missed dates than actual ones that he'd taken you out by now—you weren't exactly sure why you'd hoped for tonight to be different. Well, you knew exactly why. Today marked three years of being married to one another. You knew that he didn't prioritize date nights with you as much as he should, but you had held some sort of foolish hope that your anniversary would mean something—anything to him.
The divorce papers felt like a dead weight in your hand, much like how your relationship would be the second that you brought it up. It all just seemed so final, seeing the terms laid out that would end years of marriage. Just by the flick of a pen. But the idea was almost like a reprieve, like something that was worth looking forward to. You shook your head, getting up from the couch to set the stack of papers on the kitchen table where Toji wouldn't miss them.
Another half hour of eerie silence and Toji still hadn't come through the door. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep some semblance of hope that he'd even show up at all, much less for your date. You admitted defeat, slipping off your heels and pulling up a throw blanket over yourself. Succumbing to the sleep that was weighing down on your eyelids.
You weren't even sure how much time had passed when you heard the door swing open, the door hitting the wall from the force. The thud of his shoes hitting the tile followed, a grumble leaving Toji's lips. "Fuckin' bastards rigged that race. Robbed me of fifty bucks," he muttered to himself, slipping his coat off before placing it up on the coat rack.
"You're home late," you called out, watching as Toji turned to look at the couch before flicking on one of the living room lights. "Jesus woman, you scared me," he grumbled, a large hand resting by his chest as he looked over in your direction. Toji rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion lingering on his face like a second skin. It was only then that he looked over at you, really looked at you, and what you were wearing.
Ah shit.
Almost as if he wanted to make the situation worse, he'd chosen to go with, "You got all dolled up just to fall asleep on the couch?" You could've sworn you felt your eye twitch at the question. He'd barely opened up his mouth and you were already wishing that he didn't even bother showing up for the night.
Toji knew he was in deep shit with each step he took into the living room, his mind already starting to work overdrive to figure out what he could do for what he'd missed. A date? No, you wouldn't have put on the very expensive pair of Louboutins for just any date. His mind was blanking on anything other than the numbers that he'd lost with earlier in the day. Come on, think.
"No, I got dolled up because I thought I'd be going out with my husband tonight," you retorted dryly, smudges of eyeshadow sticking to your hand when you went to rub at your eyes. You could see Toji's brows furrow, the wheels seeming to turn in his head for once, before a look of realization settled on his features.
"Look, I'm sorry. I got carried away at the casino," one of the many excuses you'd heard before coming back to bite you in the ass. The same excuse that he'd used last month when he forgot about a work party you'd mentioned to him. Which wouldn't have been too bad if it weren't for all the snide comments being whispered in your direction and all the unwarranted marriage advice.
Advice that you ended up forgetting about chugging down two glasses of tequila like water. "I'll make it up to you, I swear. You can pick the place and all that shit." There went another one. He'd really topped himself using the two of them in a row. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, looking over at him in disbelief. "Do you even know what today was? Why I'm so pissed off?"
"It's your birthday?" Toji spoke after a couple seconds, the answer clearly wrong just by the look on his face. You rubbed a hand over your face, standing up from your spot on the couch. "It's our wedding anniversary, Toji," you spoke up before he made another guess that would just piss you off even further, "And I have something I need to talk to you about. It's on the kitchen table."
Underneath the vase filled with wilted flowers—a collection more than anything that you kept around as a reminder that Toji used to care, was a stack of papers. He placed the vase down on the table with more force than necessary upon realizing what the documents were. "A divorce?" The words slipped out of him with such venom, such distaste, like the idea was unfathomable.
Toji slammed the papers down on the table, the salt and pepper shakers trembling before falling over. "Is that really what you want?" He stepped closer to you when you approached the table, his hands instinctively moving to hold your hips. Holding you close to his body. "No, I didn't get married with the intention of getting a divorce. But you've been neglecting this marriage for a couple months now."
"I'll make it up to you now," Toji spoke quickly, like he was afraid of losing you at any moment. Like you'd disappear if he didn't. And as much as you wanted to avoid looking over at him, the task had just become all that much difficult when you had nowhere else to look at. It only took one glance at his face to realize just what he meant by 'making it up to you.'
"You think you're gonna fix months of pushing me aside with just sex?"
"Nah, I know it's gonna take more. But you've been so tired, isn't that right? So tired of tryin' to keep this marriage from falling apart and nobody taking care of you?" His words were like a siren's song when he whispered them in your ear, your traitorous body leaning back to meet the drag of your fingertips. It was almost laughable at how easily your resolve had melted. "Lemme take care of you mama. Promise I'll make you feel good."
"You wanna call me a dick, never wanna see me again? That's fine, just don't deny me one last taste. Please," And while Toji wasn't a man to beg for anything in his life, he found himself saying the words anyways. "Thought this was you making it up to me," and as much as you were willing yourself not to fold, you felt yourself spreading your legs almost instinctively when his finger dragged up your inner thigh.
"Can't it be both?" Toji's teeth nipped at your neck, licking a stripe up the junction of your neck. Practically salivating at the taste of you, of the expensive perfume you'd put on just a mere hours beforehand. "One could say that you're just being selfish," your words quickly died out when Toji started sucking on your pulse point, your own heartbeat betraying you. You'd expected Toji to sass you back, say something about how your body was just so needy against his touch.
But instead, he dropped down to his knees in front of you. The wooden floor underneath his knees almost made him feel bad for all the times he had you in a similar position. Almost. Toji looked up at you, "Selfish only when it comes to you."
Every slow drag of his fingertips across your smooth skin seemed almost reverent— like you were something to worship. You were, he just failed to realize that until now. Until you were almost out the door. "I'm sorry," the first real apology of the night slipped out of his mouth, his lips pressed against your shin. "I'm sorry," he moved up to your knee, repeating the action. Hushed whispers of I'm sorry's and featherlight kisses moving up your legs, stopping only when he gets to your clothed cunt.
"I'm sorry," Toji uttered his last apology against your cunt, his eyes locking onto yours as he applied an open mouthed kiss on your clothed clit. Barely darting his tongue out, swirling it against the nerves that were just begging for one ounce of stimulation. And he was practically reveling in how needy he made you in the span of seconds. Your back arched to rest against the seat behind you, one of your hands going to rest on his head.
Toji's fingers dragged slowly in between your folds, feeling the wet patch already starting to form through the thin lace material. You refused to make eye contact with him, knowing that if you did, he'd be able to see just how desperate you were in just a manner of seconds. Even if the bastard probably had a clue already. "You sure your pussy agrees with the divorce?" His voice came out to something akin to a purr, the drag of his fingers slowing down.
Getting you even more worked up than you were already. "Fucking hate you, can't even apologize right," you let out a hiss, your hand going down to his hair. Pulling his head even closer to you despite your previous claim. "Fine, I'll apologize correctly," Toji sounded like you were the one inconveniencing him—to which you were. He wanted to take his time with his meal, have you begging for him to touch you. And normally, he would've.
If he weren't desperate to have your cunt on his face again after weeks, months? of just having his fist to work with. His fist and a used pair of your panties up to his nose like a pervert, hips humping the air in desperation. Imagining that it was your tongue flicking across his leaking tip instead of his thumb, that it was your soft hands in exchange of his rough ones. And as easy as it was for him to get laid—he didn't want to be with anyone that wasn't you.
Toji hadn't tasted someone as sweet as you, heard someone so angelic before, but now he supposed that maybe he'd have to put that theory to the test if you left him after all. Just the idea was maddening. That someone else would be doing the same thing that he's doing to you now, that they'd give you the affection that he should've given.
"Especially sorry to you. Been neglecting you for too long," he hooked his fingers around the side of your panties, pulling them to the side just enough to reveal your slick folds to him. Toji swiped the tip of his finger along your entrance, your slick glistening against the harsh kitchen lighting before he stuck in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it, licking away at it like the slut he was.
And like the deprived man that he'd been, Toji's hands went to the lace of your underwear and stretched it out until a loud rip echoed throughout the kitchen. "You always this wet for people you hate? Or is that just for me?" Toji taunted, pushing your tattered panties down to your ankles. Finally leaning in closer to where you were aching for him to touch you. To do something other than just tease you relentlessly.
Toji settled on his knees behind you, spreading your legs open like you were his favorite meal. His tongue swiped up on your dripping cunt, licking up your essence with sheer greed. "Mmph fuck, so good," his words came out muffled, his tongue swiping across your folds before darting inside of your cunt. Your grip on the table tightened, your hips working on their own accord to push back onto his face. Practically suffocating him in your pussy. Not that he minded. By any means.
Toji practically welcomed it, his hands pushing you down onto his face. Getting absorbed in your cunt completely. "A-Ah fuck, Toji!" You could already see the noise complaint hanging on your front door first thing in the morning. But how could you be expected to keep your voice down? Toji spread your folds apart with two fingers as if he were preparing for a feast, his tongue feverishly licking in between.
"Fuckin' soaked already, knew you loved me," The vibration of the low chuckle that followed his words shot currents up your spine, your ass jiggling all that much more in his face. With such a decadent taste coating his taste buds, dying by your pussy would be nothing short of a blissful way to go out. One of the fingers that he'd been using to spread your folds had been pushed inside of your cunt, your walls clenching around him.
Toji's tongue flicked against your clit, swirling the tip around the bud while his finger slowly pushed further inside of you. The loud squelch of your cunt was the only thing that filled the apartment, everything else completely silent. Your fingers dug deeper into his scalp, a low groan leaving his lips. "F-Fuck, Toji Toji," he pushed another thick finger inside, moving them in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.
"You think y're gonna find someone who can do this?" Toji looked up at you, his fingers curling up to hit that spongy spot inside of you almost perfectly. And if you didn't know any better, you'd almost say that he looked vulnerable while he made the question. Toji's lips wrapped around your clit, gently sucking on it as his fingers worked you closer and closer to your orgasm. You couldn't bring yourself to answer—didn't trust yourself to speak.
"Toji, Toji, gonna cum," you gave him a warning, your jaw falling slack and your lips parting in a o-shape. Soundless moans leaving your lips, feeling that coil in your lower tummy start to tighten up all the much more. With one final pump of his fingers, you were covering his lips with your release. His tongue swiped across his lips, across the scar that he hated, collecting every drop. Savoring what he imagined would be the last taste of you.
"Turn around," It was almost embarrassing how quickly you'd turned around per your soon-to-be ex husband's request.
Toji didn't take more than a couple seconds in unbuttoning his pants and taking them off, his cock hitting his stomach once it was released from its confines. Precum dribbled from his annoyingly almost pretty pink tip, dripping onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. His cock slid through your folds like a slip n slide, your previous orgasm coating his tip with every lazy drag. "Toji," your voice bordered on a whine, pushing your hips to try to meet his movements.
"Tell me what you want," Toji clicked his tongue, one of his hands moving to hold your waist. Keeping you completely still until he got what he wanted. You figured there wasn't any harm in whining—you were already fucking the man after you brought up a divorce. There truly wasn't that much more to lose. "Why do I have to ask for it when you're the one apologizing?"
"Because you're the one pushing your hips back against me. All needy 'n shit. So.. beg."
"Want you inside me, Toji. Please."
"Want?"
You let out a huff before correcting yourself, "Need."
"Come on, doll. You can say it nicer than that, right?" Toji's pointer trailed up your torso, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
So goddamn annoying. You swallowed whatever pride you had left before looking back over at him, "Please, Toji. Need your cock in me. Please."
Toji clicked his tongue, one hand wrapping around his cock and giving himself a couple tentative pumps. "Think you can beg better than that. But since I'm feeling nice, I guess I'll let it slide." So much for feeling apologetic. Toji pushed his cock inside of you in one swift motion, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. Even with the fingers that'd been inside of you, nothing could've really prepared you.
"You okay?" Toji dropped his head to rest on your shoulder, whispering the words in your ear. Staying still while your walls tried to adjust to the overwhelming stretch. "You try taking your cock," you muttered dryly, giving him a nod to start moving. "Why would I do that when you take it so well?" Toji pushed the rest of his cock inside, his hands resting on your hips.
Toji wasn't particularly known for being gentle—the one hospital visit after he'd injured your cervix more than enough proof of that, but he started off slow. Slow, shallow thrusts. Fucking you in a way that he hasn't since your honeymoon. "Toji, you can speed up," you assured him, your words getting cut off with a smack to your ass. "What I'd say about tellin' me what to do?" Ah, there was the mean Toji that you recognized.
"Wouldn't need to tell you what to do if my vibrator wasn't looking more appealing right now."
Famous last words.
The change was almost immediate. Mascara dribbled down your cheeks, the sight of your once composed makeup all ruined making Toji's cock twitch inside of you. "Fucking pretty like this, y'know?" His teeth sunk down on the junction of your shoulder, his teeth grazing across the sensitive flesh. His hips snapped roughly into yours, your breathing growing erratic. "Fuck, Fuck, Toji!"
The coldness of his gold wedding band hit your skin as soon as he went to grip your hips, holding you against him like he needed to be close to you. The two of you had been distant for some time and he hadn't bothered to take off his wedding band once, not even on the rare occasion that he actually did happen to take a job. Toji would never admit it, of course—but he was starved for the feeling of your skin against his own.
To confirm that you were still here after all.
Your hands reached out to grab to whatever you could grab—anything, and of course, it just happened to be the divorce papers sitting on the middle of the table. Practically taunting you as your own signature glared back at you. "This good enough for you, princess?" Toji taunted in your ear, his blunt fingernails digging into your sides. "Mhm, j-just like that," your voice came out in a mewl, all bits of defiance completely out of your system.
"There you go. Nasty fucking girl," Toji all but purred in your ear the moment you started to jerk your hips back to meet his own, your ass bouncing with each one of his thrusts. "Just needed Toji to take care of ya," all you could was nod your head fervently, your grip on the divorce papers tightening. And Toji, of course, took notice. He took the papers from you with one hand, giving them a once-over before passing them back over.
"Come on, since ya wanted it so bad, read me those divorce papers," Toji handed you the stack of papers, pointing to where you'd signed your initials just a couple hours prior. Your hands shook as you held the papers, your vision blurry as you tried to make out the legal jargon in front of you. Even the simplest of words seemed all too complicated to try to make out.
"T-Toji, I can't," your voice cracked, your grip on the papers tightening when his cock reached all that much deeper inside of you. Toji clicked his tongue, peering over your shoulder to read the first sentence from the document. "That's not what it says ma, try again."
"Without all the stuttering too."
You took a deep breath, willing yourself to focus on the words in front of you instead of Toji's cock sinking further and further into you. "S-Says that the divorce agreement was made today between us," you clutched the sheets tighter, your eyes almost rolling back when Toji bottomed out inside of you. The tip of his cock dripping precum, your walls fluttering as you tried to get adjusted.
"Mm, yeah, keep goin'," Toji really couldn't care—his focus solely on the way that your cunt stretched out to fit his cock. Leaking around his shaft, loud squelches when he pulled out overplaying whatever shitty soap opera was playing. "And what'd I say about the s-stuttering?" Toji mocked your words, his own hips stuttering mere seconds later while he tried not to get absorbed in your cunt. Not that it was an easy task by any means.
It was hard, especially with the way that you claimed to be over this marriage despite your pussy claiming otherwise. When you opened your mouth to speak, the only thing that left you was a moan. "F-Fuck Toji, right there," your eyes shut tightly at the touch of his calloused hand making itself in between your legs, his thumb rubbing at your clit in a speed that felt like it combated his own running abilities.
"That's not what it says, c'mon," Toji grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointer, turning your head to face the overwhelmingly long divorce papers. You wouldn't finish tonight if he intended for you to read the whole thing, you knew that much. A harsh slap against your swollen clit made the pleasure coursing through your veins mix with pain, a shaky gasp leaving your kiss-swollen lips.
Drool leaked from the corner of your mouth, the black ink smearing with each drop that fell from your parted lips. Your walls enveloped every inch of his cock perfectly, your cunt holding his cock in a vice-like grip. "That I won't try to t-take your things," you managed to get out, hoping that it would be good enough. You knew the two of you wouldn't finish today if he made you read the never ending stack of papers.
"Good enough," Toji sounded like he would've kept it going if he could, but you set them down as quickly as he spoke. It was almost like Toji was trying to remind you of why you'd fallen in love with him in the first place—the man reverent to your cunt and your cunt only. Every grip of your hips kept you closer and closer to his body, almost as a way for Toji to make sure you weren't slipping away.
"Wh—" Before you had the chance to complain about the loss of contact, Toji had already carried you without a smidge of struggle. His hands hooked underneath your plush thighs, hoisting you up against the wall. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his slutty waist, practically clinging onto him like a koala. "There we go, there's that pretty lil face," Toji placed his pointer underneath your chin, taking in the view in front of him.
The glazed over look in your eyes, the sweat beading up on your forehead, the makeup that he'd successfully ruined—everything about you was just so beautiful. How you tried to avoid looking in his direction for too long. "Don't leave me ma, need you in my life," the words were whispered into your ear, his cock pushing back inside of you in one swift motion. Toji's fingers went back to your throbbing clit, his pointer and middle rubbing against it at the perfect speed.
Not too fast, not too slow, and not too rough.
"Don't ask me to do that," you almost sounded pained as you spoke—not from him filling you up, but for the implication of his words. You'd practically babble anything right now, anything for him to keep going. To forget about the reality that awaits the two of you. Toji's lips found yours in an instant, the exchange between the two of you almost depraved. His mouth was feverish in the way that it moved against yours, like he'd never get the chance again.
Your hand went to the back of his head, pushing him closer against you. Letting yourself forget for just a little while longer. A string of saliva connected your lips to his when you pulled away—only to catch air. "I’m close, Toji, so close," you whined against his lips, your release coating his shaft a mere moments later. Toji only used that as lubricant, his movements quicker against your cunt to chase his own release.
"There's no one else for me, I'll stop goin' to t-the casino, stop gettin' into trouble," Toji had been reduced to a babbling the first thing he pulled out of his ass, if only to get you to stay. His head rested against the junction of your neck, basking in the remnants of proximity that he could get. Shaky breaths left his lips with each thrust of his hips, feeling himself getting closer and closer. "You've been saying that since we've been married."
"I mean it this time, I promise," you'd never heard a lie sound so pretty slipping from someone's lips before until now.
He bit down on the side of your neck, hard. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to where you'd probably have to use a tube of concealer to even attempt to cover up the bruising mark. Causing you problems even now. But you'd be lying if the sudden act of possessiveness had your walls clenching against him even tighter, if that was even possible anymore.
His cock was barely moving against the tight grip you held around his shaft, his pace stuttering. "Fuck, fuck, so tight," Toji let out a loud groan, completely at the will of your pussy. He threw his head back, a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks in this lighting. Ropes and ropes of cum decorated your cunt, his softening length snug inside of you. Toji ended up pulling out a couple moments later, scooping the drops of cum that leaked down your thighs with his finger.
Toji was shameless in the way that he stuck the finger in his mouth, a low moan leaving his lips at the combined taste of him and you. Before your rationality came back, before you got the chance to even think about regretting this, you leaned in and crashed your lips against his own. Tasting yourself on his tongue. The kiss lingered between the two of you more than it needed to, it was less rushed than the prior ones you'd shared.
Like a last taste.
"So, you still want to get that divorce?" Toji knew you would've just babbled whatever for him to keep going, saving the question until now. His movements were almost reluctant as he pulled his pants over his legs once again, making little attempt to fix up his hair. If anything, his fingers only ended up messing the strands even more. Despite knowing the answer deep down, Toji still held out hope. That maybe you'd had some eye-opening moment while he was balls-deep.
You stood up properly, looking over at the ruined sheets on the table before looking back over at him. "I do," you spoke after a couple seconds, grabbing your tattered panties from the floor and smoothing over your dress. Trying to maintain whatever semblance of dignity you had left. Even if it was probably just as tattered up as your underwear at this point.
"Why? You know I love you. You know that you love me. So why should we get separated?" You did know that. But you also weren't sure that he'd ever loved you enough to consider changing. To consider the fact that you needed some sort of affection outside of sex.
"Because you think that somehow every problem between us can be resolved with sex. You say that you want to do better and yet, you never do. It doesn't even feel like you're my husband half of the time," all the bottled up feelings from the past couple months spilled out of you in a manner of seconds. All the bottled up thoughts that maybe you should've told your husband about earlier. Though, you weren't even sure if Toji would've paid it any mind.
And almost as if he'd read your train of thought, "Why didn't you tell me about all this before just hittin' me with divorce papers?"
"Because the few times that I did, you told me to stop bitching. That I shouldn't have anything to complain about with a roof over my head and a fridge full of food," you started off, almost waiting for him to deny what you were saying, "And while I'm not saying that I'm not thankful for those things, I also don't want to feel ungrateful for saying that I miss my husband."
Silence lingered between the two of you, each second that passed by only confirming what the two of you already knew by now. That a divorce wasn't such a far-fetched idea. Toji knew there wasn't left to even attempt fighting for, so he simply just told you, "I'll sign 'em when you get the new ones."
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Can we get a doctor phosphorus X reader where the reader has power similar to Deadpool. Example of unable to die and sometimes has ability to pull things out of thin air for comedic effect
You were a curious case to most, from your inability to die, to your unique ability to seemingly pull things that people needed out of thin air as though by pure coincidence. When asked about how you did what you did, you merely shrugged your shoulders - you sipped a drink you plucked out of thin air through a silly straw- and replied with something that only left the rest of the monsters even more confused;
‘Plot convenience and comedic effect for the audience reading this fanfic that author took far too long to actually get to writing.’
Many left you alone after that, deducing you a tad mentally unstable, all but Dr Phosphorus who also thrived off of the chaos and unpredictable nature that you brought to every situation you found yourself in. He found comradery in you and your ability to piss of basically everyone by getting under their skin, even him at times but he knows when to laugh with you as while everything that came from your mouth might sound insulting, that’s just how you came across and it only takes someone with a likemindedness to understand when you were being genuine or not.
Dr Phosphorus remembered the first time you interacted with one another when you scared him by accident, making him grab your shoulder with his exposed radiated hand, thinking you’ll die a violent death but imagine his surprise when you only shrug his hand off to reveal a healing shoulder where his hand once was. ‘Is it hot in here or is it just you? Oh who am I kidding it is you because of your…yeah.’ You said as you gestured to all of him and while he couldn’t smile since he was a literal skeleton, he couldn’t help but chuckle at your words now that the initial scare was over.
‘Oh you’re the wise ass who thought it’d be funny to scare the irradiated Skelton?’ Dr phosphorus says as he crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head as he took you in and the burnt cloth at your shoulder from his touch, your skin however -now fully healed at this point- looked untouched as though he wasn’t close enough to even hurt you. ‘Who are you newbie, I would think that I would remember a person like you.’ He adds with an almost flirtatious purr.
You smiled as you offered out your hand. ‘Of course you wouldn’t as I was hauled off here just this morning, but for the sake of keeping this fanfic a reasonable length as to prevent the possibility of stretching the readers attention span too thin, I killed a bunch of bad guys and lost a couple of limbs in the process.’ You said as though it wasn’t as big of a deal as it would be to others, ‘people were screaming, I was screaming. and here I am being called a freak, monster and whatever even by people who should probably look in the mirror before saying shit. It’s like the pot calling the kettle black.’ You finished.
Dr phosphorus looked at you then back down at your hand before looking back at you once more, amused. ‘I’d take your hand sweetheart, but I don’t want to hurt you…again.’
‘Oh then take these gloves.’ You said.
‘What gloves-‘
‘These silly!’ You exclaimed as you shoved a pair of irradiation proof gloves against dr phosphorus’s chest.
‘How did you-‘ dr phosphorus tried to ask, only to then decide that logic wasn’t all that important to you when you seemingly worked outside of logic as a person, logic and sound decisions didn’t exist within you, and it shows in the most subtlest ways that one wouldn’t notice unless they were paying attention as to how you seemingly controlled an unforeseen narrative to your very will.
‘How did I what?’ You asked.
‘Pull shit out of thin air.’ Dr phosphorus replied as he slides the gloves over his hands.
‘Plot convenience and comedic effect for the them.’ You then pointed towards a part of the room, almost as though gesturing to an audience , only for there to be no one there at all but cold walls. You two were the only ones in the room and dr phosphorus thought he was the only mentally unstable one in this facility. ‘Who are we looking at sweets?’ Dr phosphorus says as he tried to see what you were seeing, but all he could see was the cold walls that he was far too familiar with then the outside of the very structure he was trapped within, which sounded sad but to his knowledge no sane mind would blink twice at the mistreatment of a monster.
‘The audience reading this very fan fic.’ You informed him with a smile before seeing that he had put on the gloves and boldly grabbed his hand, making the skeleton jolt as he then relaxed when remembering he did put on the gloves. ‘But never mind them, it’s good to meet you dr phosphorus.’ You add as though knowing his name without him telling you was all apart of your character and dr phosphorus had to say that he was liking you more and more you spoke.
‘I don’t think I disclosed that to you sweetheart, but it’s good to meet you too.’ He chuckled and in that moment he knew that your relationship was going to be unlike any other. And he was right.
There would be times where all of you were gathered in the cafeteria, where one of the monsters nudged past you rather rudely while sneering at you. You were use to this as technically while you had abilities that went beyond human comprehension, you were still the closest thing to being a human in comparison to those who had physical appearance that screamed monster.
‘Watch where you’re going human.’ They’d spit at you venomously.
You only smiled back at them while Dr Phosphorus looked between the two of you from the sidelines along with everyone else. ‘Someone who’s going to get bitchslapped by a fish says what.’
The bat like creature scrunched up their face. ‘What-‘ before they could finish their sentence, they were then smacked across the face with a fish rather violently as they were sent to the floor. They hold a hand to their cheek, clearly unaware of what had just happened along with the rest of the room, before looking at your hand that was once empty now was grasping the tail a dead fish the length of your arm; which explained the disgusting smell that soon hit their senses a second after they realised that they were hit in the face with a dead fish.
‘Where did you get that thing?!’ They’d spit exclaimed but you shrugged.
‘That’s on a need to know basis.’ You replied as you shoved the fish into the hands of a gargoyle like being as you took your place next to dr phosphorus, who had been trying to hold back his laughter but couldn’t when you were close enough if g for him to ask. ‘A fish? That’s what you come up with when insulated?!’ He wheezed. You shrugged ‘thought you would like the image of someone getting slapped with a fish and so I went with it.’ You explained as though it was something that happened on a daily basis for you.
‘Well it was definitely a sight to behold for not just me sweetheart.’ Dr phosphorus tells you as you both carried on with your day, all the while everyone else could only watch as the irradiated skeleton and you continue your conversation before being joined by weasel who had the fish firmly liked in his jaw.
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Leather Jackets and Ketchup ‘Mishaps’- S.Black x Reader
Word Count: 2.7k (my longest yet :p) Request: hey there! can i get one with prompts 79, 174 and 175, with Sirius, please? thank you! Prompts: 79. No its just… I cant believe your wearing my clothes” 174. “Did you see what she was wearing?” 175. “So what if I had sex with your ex?”
A/N: this is a rewrite of an old fic from nearly 5 years ago. Find the terrible original here. Lmk if ive improved. Warnings: None rlly, swearing, kissing, marlene hate (sorry marlene your my wife but youre sacrificed to the story)
A hogsmeade weekend! Practically the only thing keeping the students of Hogwarts from pitching themselves off the astronomy tower during their 6th year. You and Lily had planned to meet up with the boys later on for some drinks an some shopping, definitely spurred on by Lilys growing affection to James (no matter how much she denies it).
You stared into the full-length mirror stuck to the wall. It felt as though something was missing in your outfit. Youd worn your favorite today, but it still didn't feel like enough. Lily sat on the bed behind you, looking as perfect as ever.
“Can you stop hogging the mirror please, i need to do my makeup!” She nudged you with her leg that was hanging off the bed as a giggle bubbled up from her throat.
“My outfit is not suffering because you want to look nice for James Potter!” You turned to her with that sly look as her face dusted rosy, pink, whilst she spewed phrases of denial.
“Well, my makeup is suffering because you want to look nice for Sirius.” Now it was your turn to gasp.
She had this idea that you were in for it with Sirius. You disagreed of course. Sure, i mean, you had feelings for him, you liked him. He was funny, attractive, and almost as smart as you. But it had been 6 years, if there was going to be any movement on that front, besides flirting that could make Casanova blush, it probably would've happened already. You were trying to let it go, but its difficult when you see him every day.
“Not true! You know he doesnt like me like that, im totally over it!” You began observing yourself in the mirror again, as she gave you that, ‘whatever you say’, look. “Speaking of, though, a nice leather jacket is just what this outfit needs, do you have one?” Lily agreed and turned to look into her trunk for a jacket.
“No, sorry sweetheart”.” You jutted your lip out and frowned a little. There goes your perfect outfit.
After a little more observing in the mirror, whilst you watched Lily apply her makeup on the floor, the obvious thought entered your head. “You know who does have a leather jacket.” That mischievous smirk littered your face. “Sirius.”
Lily then put a head in her hands, and you could see her reaction in the reflection of the mirror. “Sure you don't have a thing for him?”
“Shut up lils, your just jealous of how goooood im gonna look.” You guessed Sirius wouldn't have a problem with it. Youd shared a lot of things over the years. Blankets, books, food, tea, you name it.
She chuckled at that and finally stood up, giving herself a final glance in the mirror. “You know the boys will have a fit when they see you in that.”
You rolled your yes, laughing softly. “Yeah, because those boys are the authority of fashion.”
She giggled at that too, before picking up everything she needed for the day. “Well, whilst you commit grand larceny, im going to go get my pancakes!” She drawled sarcastically as she turned to leave.
You muttered a soft goodbye as you also grabbed everything you needed. The boys had said before that you were free to use their dorm whenever, although Remus did add ‘Not for nefarious purposes Casanova’. You slipped out of your dorm, your boots hitting the floor with purpose. A woman on a mission. A leather jacket mission.
The door to their dorm creaked open slowly, as if you were trying not to wake them. but you were surprised to see they weren't all still asleep right now, desperately savoring every extra 5 minutes.
Their dorm was an exact reflection of each of them. Vinyl records of the latest rock bands on the walls. Books and chocolate strewn about. Stubbed out cigarette butts (Don't tell Minnie). Dirty shoes and outfits from the last quidditch game. Mugs of tea forgotten about. It was so them. Everything you loved about your friends, all perfectly wrapped up in one little room. You made a mental note to spend more time here.
As your eyes glanced around the room, you finally spotted it, dangling across the back of a chair that was pushed against his desk. It was surprising that it was actually here, since Sirius was very rarely seen without it. It had S.B written on the back in big white letters, and various patches from bands. But according to Mary, ‘the back of my outfit isn't my problem because i can even see it’.
You slid it across your shoulders and instantly felt more comforted. The familiar scent that you loved enveloped you. You turned and checked yourself out in the boy's mirror. Now this was a complete outfit. Perfect for a Hogsmeade weekend.
You slipped back out of the boy's dorm and started making your way down to the great hall for breakfast.
You pushed open the heavy doors to the great hall, the smell of fresh breakfast food immediately hitting you. You skipped down to the table, going to meet up with the girls to discuss the future Hogsmeade antics.
You giggled as you jogged past the marauders. With the prettiest smile, you waved to them. “Hi boys, don't cheap out in Hogsmeade later!”. You rushed to meet with the girls, oblivious to all the eyes that were on you.
As you sat down, the boys, who were a little further up the table, all sat gawking at you. James nudged Sirius excitedly. “D’ya see what Shes wearing mate?”
He had seen, which is why, when James had asked him, he had barely been able to form a response. He had felt the wind be knocked out of him as he saw you giggling and waving, clad in his leather jacket. It was almost like he was in a trance, raking his eyes over every inch of your frame, wondering how on earth that happened. And how he could get it to happen every single day. His thoughtfulness was broken by his friend's voice belting across the table.
“Oi, (Y/N), you look absolutely astonishing in Padfoot’s jacket!” The sound of your name made you whip your head up, as you giggled with a blush coating your cheeks. Just as quickly as he had shouted, Lily had shouted back.
“Dont be jealous James, just because you don't want to share him!” This caused all your friends to burst into a fit of laughter, all except one. Marlene was holding a firm glare at you from across the table.
The boys vehemently questioned Sirius for the next 5 minutes. Questions of ‘did you know she was gonna wear that?’ or ‘did you finally make a move?’ or ‘i bet you're loving this’. The latter wasn't really a question, more a very correct observation which made him blush.
Their conversation was cut short however, when they heard a clatter of plates from a little way down the table. They all snapped their heads toward the sound and found you and Marlene glaring at each other across the table. If looks could kill, wow. It had honestly only been a few minutes since you arrived, and they were all puzzled as to what could've happened in such a short time.
And then, as if you were reading their minds. “So what if you had sex with your ex?” Came from you, as you flicked your head to the side condescendingly. The boys' jaws dropped; they probably would've hit the floor if there wasn't a table in the way. James looked as if he was watching the best soap opera of his life.
Sirius and Marlene had a fling a few weeks back. It obviously meant more to her than him. And through the pangs of jealousy, you had comforted her. But it seems that wasnt enough for her, she wanted you to drop Sirius entirely.
Sirius felt a jab into his ribs, and he quickly dragged his eyes away from the scene. “Ow!” He mouthed silently, trying not to disturb the tension. Remus rolled his eyes and mouthed back, ‘did you actually sleep with her?’. Now it was Sirius’ turn to roll his eyes as he whispers. ‘Obviously not, you know she doesn't like me back’.
‘Yeah, he wishes. Peter added quietly, which caused Sirius to blush and tut, before they all turned their attention back to the scene.
“Listen, im sorry he didn't want you, but that's no reason to treat me horribly, because he wants me now, is it?” The condescension in your voice was enough to grate on anyone who was on the receiving end.
“Not wrong on that one.” Remus whispered quietly, causing Sirius to whack his arm lightly. HIs heart rate sped up like crazy. Did you know he liked you, all this time? Or where you just trying to get under her skin. The thoughts felt overwhelming.
And then, It almost felt as if time slowed, as they watched Marlene snap. She grabbed the jug of pumpkin juice on the table and dashed it all over you. You had an utterly shocked look on your face. Not just because you were covered in pumpkin juice, but also because you were slightly impressed, she stood up for herself.
But alas, war does not stop because of bravery. Your hand quietly slid a bottle of ketchup under the table as you spoke. Marlene had missed it, but it didn't get past Sirius. “You know Marlene, I wouldn't wanna ruin that pretty fake blonde hair of yours.” You laughed cynically, lifting the ketchup bottle.
That second, Sirius jumped from his seat and ran down the table, grabbed your waist and hauled you up in his arms. He was already dragging you away as you pressed down on the bottle, squirting it all over her.
“Ugh! You Bitch!” She screamed as she desperately tried to rub the ketchup from her face, with the girls next to her trying to calm her down.
You laughed maniacally as you struggled against Sirius's grip while he carried you out of the great hall. Phrases of ‘let go Sirius!’ and ‘it wasn't my fault!’ fell from your mouth. Youd eventually stopped struggling about halfway to the common room, accepting your fate.
When you finally reached the common room, he dropped you lightly onto one of the couches, and loomed over you, like a teacher about to reprimand you.
“Sirius! Why did you drag me out of there I was winning?” The adrenaline was still clearly running through your veins as you laughed. By the look on his face, he did not find it funny.
“(Y/N). You’ve just lost your friendship with Marlene, and potentially just sacrificed your friendship with Lily and Mary.” That definitely soured your mood. Suddenly, it wasn't very funny. “Why, in Godric Gryffindors name, did you do that?”
You threw your hands down on the couch and pouted. “You wouldn't get it, Pads.” You sighed and tried to turn away from him.
He had crouched down to your level now, turning you back to him with a hand on your knee. “Oh yeah, what’s so possibly bad that it warranted staining a girl, apparently fake blonde hair, news to me by the way, red with ketchup?” You tried to hide your giggle at his comment and did your best to keep silent. “Seriously, did she insult you or something? Whatever it was couldn't have warranted that.”
You sighed again as the argument replayed through your head. You could already feel the anger building up in you again. “You should’ve heard what she was saying about you Sirius, it was all ‘he’s this, he’s that’ And then! She insinuated I slept with you, for my own personal gain, not because I liked you, not because Im in love with you, she thought I did it for bragging rights! Which is absolutely ridiculous by the way. Anyone who uses someone for bragging rights is absolutely disgusting, especially if they use you. So no, her insulting me wasn’t enough to warrant ketchup hair, but insulting you was!”
You were bordering on shouting at this point, although your anger was misdirected. You took a deep breath and tried to calm your shaking hands. After a beat, you lifted your head to look at him, worried youll still find an angry look in his eyes.
Instead, he was gaping at you. You furrowed your brows, questioning the incredulous look on his face.
“You said you loved me.” He whispered lightly, worried if he spoke too loudly the words might crack his resolve.
Your eyes widened as you studied his features. “I did not!” You tried to insist but the shock caused it to come out smaller than intended.
“Yes, you did! You love me!” A smirk spread across his face as he pointed a finger at you. There was another beat of silence, before you jumped up from the couch and tried to run away from him.
“Come here!” Unfortunately for you, his tall stature was not just for show, as he quickly caught up with you.
He caught up with you as you rounded the couch again, pushing you down onto it. He had you captured between his arms. All he did was stare at you, into your eyes.
“Im sorry your jackets covered in pumpkin juice.” You spoke softly in the space between you two.
“It's fine i just...” His eyes racked over your figure once more. “I just can't believe your actually wearing my clothes.”
You giggled in response and muttered low apologies.
“Plus, I like the taste of pumpkin juice” He smirked, capturing your gaze again. Obviously, you didn’t get the memo, as your response was…
“Taste? I know you're a dog, but you don't lick your-” but your words were soon cut off by Sirius’ voice.
“For once in your life, be quiet!” He chuckled lowly before leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss. It was slow at first, soft, almost anticipatory, but it quickly sped up, almost like it was 6 years of emotions spilling out into one kiss.
“I love you too, by the way” He breathed out as you broke apart, your foreheads laying against each other
“Well id be very upset if you kissed somebody you didn't like, like that” You giggled, lightly running your hand through his hair.
“And i love seeing you in my jacket by the way. But maybe next time tell the truth, and dont antagonize and cause a scene.” His reprimand fell short since he had the dopiest grin on his face. “But thank you for standing up for me.”
You didn't think your grin could get any wider, “Of course.” You lay another kiss on his lips. Maybe Lily was right, you are definitely in for it.
Bonus
The portrait hole swung open as James, Remus and Peter tried to search for their friend. Who was wrapped up in his own little world with his sweetheart on the couch.
They stepped through as James tried to shout up to the dorm. “Pads? We're going to Hogsmeade soon!” His shout wasnt answered, so he glanced around the room. He found you two nuzzled together on the couch, only breaking away at the sound of his voice.
“Oh, Christ alive, Pads get a room! Peter cover your eyes!” James wrapped a hand around his friend's eyes as you and Sirius burst into a fit of giggles on the couch.
“Were coming!” You both untangled from each other and shifted off the couch.
“I cant believe that was what got them to confess! A jacket! D’you think it would work the same if i wore Lilys clothes?” And with a smack of the back of his head from Remus, the group left to finally enjoy their Hogsmeade weekend.
A/N: lmk how i did, leave requests for any hp character. comment for taglist. i love u
#sirius black x reader#sirius orion black#sirius black#marauders#marauders era#remus lupin x reader#harry potter#sirius black x you
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haiii I love your writing and esp your self aware au!
Do you think you can do one for your au with Riddle and mc where mc basically fusses over him (trying to do all the chores before and after work so he doesn’t have to even though he has nothing better to do, double checking for his needs/wants a lot) all the time like they’re trying desperately to keep a house plant alive even though he’s more than fine?? (If that makes ANY sense 😭)
thanks a bunch, take your time!🖤
Xo, Manny
"Take a break"
Self-aware!Riddle Rosehearts x GN!Reader
Cw- Reader honestly just overworking the self, fluff, oneshot
Word count: 1446
A/N: HII imma be so honest I hope I did this req right if not I beg your biggest pardon 🙂↔️(fancy voice), also while this is technically a yandere au this one is just Riddle getting reader prioritize their needs so, either way enjoy!
Riddle Rosehearts was always your favorite twisted wonderland character. Even so you never expected or could have prepared for him to not only gain Self-awareness but also become a real person.
Since he's started living with you, you felt the need to monitor him almost like a toddler. You're always cooking and cleaning for him , despite his constant protests. Yeah he can do everything himself he's fully capable but a part of you is so afraid that he'll break or something if you don't.
You would wake up early in the morning just to make sure everything was tidy and Riddle would have breakfast when he eventually woke from his slumber. You would always clean up after him even if he told you he was going to once he was finished.
You made sure he'd get sleep or drink enough water. Which would be fine if you yourself did the same. You're always so worried about if he's getting enough of something or if there was anything he wanted, yet when it came to you, you'd completely brush them off.
You stumbled through the door late at night. Riddle watched observantly from the couch, closing the book he was reading. His gray eyes followed you as you went to set the bags you held in your hands on the island surface.
“You're home rather late [Name] “ He spoke as he stood up, slowly making his way over to you. You just yawned and stretched out your stiff body. You could just feel his gaze on you.
“Yeah sorry they had me working late— yawn , you need anything? I could make you some dinner if you hadn't already or I could run you a bath” you responded trying to stay upbeat despite your clearly tired appearance.
Riddle shook his head. “No not at all you should sleep “ he spoke sternly, crossing his arms. You let out a tired giggle.
“Yeah yeah I will, after I finish cleaning up the kitchen — speaking of did you eat and drink today?”
The red head let out a sigh. You'd constantly worry about him, he was completely capable of taking care of himself, he wasn't a small child anymore and despite not being completely familiar with this world he wasn't stupid either.
“Yes, I did but from the looks of this you clearly haven't, ” You snickered a bit before shaking your head.
“Oh you worry too much, I've just had a busy night I'm fine” You replied, walking over to the other side of the island just to be stopped. You lazily tilted your head as Riddle held your wrist firmly.
“I already cleaned the kitchen while you were away” The house warden said, before gently guiding you away with a hand on your back.
“Great, I'll make us something to eat” you said, letting out a yawn. Riddle sighed before leaning you over to the couch.
“You shall do no such thing, now sit” He commanded, his voice stern. You blinked , but continued to sit anyway, not wanting to see what would happen if you didn't. The idea of him using his signature crosses your sleep deprived mind and it makes you shiver despite him ever using it on you since he got here.
“Riddle I'm fine I promise I just need to—”
“To what Collapse of exhaustion?” Riddle cut you off, his voice was pointed and full of authority. Much more serious than before “You're overworking yourself again, I'm more than capable of taking care of everything so just relax” he continued, expression softening at your tired state.
You groaned and laid back against the couch cushions. You felt a little guilty. He was the one teleported into a different world. You should be the one taking care of him and all his needs, not the other way around.
Riddle moved around the kitchen with ease. You watched as the red head got on his tippy toes to grab one of your mugs from the cabinets. You wanted to tell him you could do it for him but you just knew he'd protest. You slumped into the couch more.
He was quick to take the kettle off the stove once it started to hiss softly. He carefully poured the hot water into the cup. Riddle was observant and made sure to add just the right amount of sweetness. It had to be perfect. Once satisfied he set the tea down to go find the cookies he had made earlier.
He had a lot of time to spend when you were gone after all. He made his way way over to you, gray eyes watched as you perked up at the sight of the sweets.
“You didn't have to rea—”
“Don't start “ The house warden cut you off. He handed you the cup, carefully so you wouldn't burn your hands. He placed the cookies on the coffee table before sighing.
“You seriously work yourself to exhaustion and still proceeded to worry about me, it's foolish if you ask me” Riddle said, placing his hands on his hips. You looked down at the warm liquid in your mug thinking for the right words.
“It's just, I'm supposed to take care of you , I owe you that at least you know… “ you mumbled before taking a sip of the tea.
“You owe me nothing, I am not a child who needs to be protected, I am not fragile and neither are you however “ He pauses for a moment looking down at you. “You can become fragile if you do not upkeep yourself “
You opened your mouth to respond;to protest, but Riddle held up a hand to stop you.
“I am not ungrateful,” he spoke out, his voice softening yet still stern.“I appreciate everything you’ve done since I arrived here.You’ve given me a home, patience, and care that I could never have expected. But…” He hesitated, his gray eyes searching your face for a moment before he continued. “...You can’t give all of that to me at the expense of yourself.”
You blinked at him, a little stunned by the depth of his words. “Listen I’m not—”
“You are,” Riddle interrupted firmly, leaning slightly closer. “You work late, come home, and immediately worry about whether I’ve eaten or rested, yet you neglect your own needs. Do you think I don’t notice? I’ve seen you skipping meals, staying up far too late cleaning, and leaving your own tasks undone to take care of mine.”
You frowned, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. If you could you'd sink into the couch cushions even more. “I know that, Riddle. I just… It feels like if I don’t do these things, I’m failing you somehow.”
His eyes widened for a second before shaking his head. “No, no how could you be failing me? If anything you're failing yourself”
You hesitated, your tongue poking at your cheek as you toyed with the mug in your hands. "I'm not failing myself," you tried weakly, though the exhaustion in your voice betrayed you. Riddle let out a long sigh, running a hand through his vibrant red hair.
“You are," he countered, his voice lowering. "And if you won't take the necessary steps to care for yourself, then I will ensure it happens."
Your breath caught in your throat "You don't have to do that, Riddle," you said, "You're supposed to be my guest, not my caretaker."
Riddle's lips twitched, his frown somehow deepened more for a split second. A look of…disappointment? "A guest? Is that how you still see me?"
You blinked at him, caught off guard by the question. "I mean… I guess. I don’t know how else to describe this situation. All I know is I don't want you to go back to being under that pressure like you did back at home”
His mind went blank for a second. He shook his head and cleared his throat. “[Name]” he started softly. You watched him as he looked away with red cheeks. After a moment he continued.
“Like I've stated before you've helped me in ways I couldn't imagine you don't need to push yourself just for my sake I can help I am a house warden after all, I care for you…a lot so do not tangle yourself in with my needs if you are not to take care of your own…please”
You wanted to protest but the words laid flat on your tongue. You could just nod in defeat as you rested your mug on the coffee table. Riddle smiled slightly before clearing his throat and putting back a stern face—blush still clear on his face.
“Good now I shall go run you a bath, then you shall get some much needed rest” The house warden said taking your now empty cup and plate into the kitchen.
When was the last time you felt cared for like this? All you knew was that it made your heart swell. Riddle Rosehearts was always your favorite..
MASTERLIST
#crunchystarz#starz in wonderland#x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland x you#twst x reader#twst x you#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#Riddle Rosehearts x you#twst riddle#twst wonderland#self aware au#reader is gender neutral
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Tender Touches
[Screenshot by me!]
Pairing: Gale x F!Reader
Author's Note: When your period hits you like a mac truck going 100mph on the highway (as it has myself; send help, Gale, and chocolate. I am dying as we speak).
♡♡♡
You groaned softly, feeling the ache before you understood it; familiar, deep, and all-consuming. You curled in on yourself instinctively, sleep still gripping at the edges of your mind, preventing you from realization. The ache built until an agonizingly slow tidal wave of pain washed through you, carrying your slowly waking conscious into a chasm of apathy. 'Make it stop.' your inner voice whimpered. 'Please, please make it stop.' You curled tighter. 'Nnngh. Hurts. Stop. Please.'
Another voice came from somewhere in the dark, faraway but recognizable. "-ove?" A sudden urge to go towards the voice consumed you and you tried to unfurl, but another wave of pain was building, then blooming, and you were knocked back into darkness. What felt like several blinding eons of pain swept across you before slowly easing again.
"-y love?"
"Mmh?"
The voice had returned, and had become clearer now; warm, soothing - concerned.
"My love?"
"Mmm...Gale?" you slurred, your surroundings finally beginning to dawn on you.
"Love, you've been groaning and whimpering. I've been attempting to wake you for some time now." A large, warm hand glided down your side and you hummed, the heat keeping the wave at bay. "Were you having nightmares?"
You shook your head, inching closer to him, seeking his body heat. He understood almost immediately and pulled you close, allowing you to relax into his hold. You sighed in relief as your abdomen met his, the pain fleeing further from the molten touch.
"It's your moon cycle, isn't it?" Your lover murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair. You nodded, nuzzling into the crook of his neck; lavender, old tomes, and last night's fire. A smile stretched across your lips unbidden. You would never tire of his scent. It caressed you like the gentlest of lovers - it caressed you as lovingly as he did. His palm made tracks up and down your spine as you let out a quiet purr of appreciation. His chuckle rumbled through his chest and into you, relaxing you ever further.
"Well, our fearless leader is quite overdue for a day of respite as it is," Gale observed. "I'm certain the rest of our campmates can survive a day or two without us. Perhaps not Astarion, but he's another matter entirely."
You sighed, the sound almost coming out as a defeated bleat, and Gale laughed. "Worry not, I'll inform Wyll to keep a sharp eye. The rest, I'm sure, will be fine without any additional chaperones. The first druid, however, will remain here with us."
You quirked your head and looked up at him curiously. You had never needed the tadpole to communicate silently with Gale, and this was no different. "While my many expansive talents as a wizard and former Chosen have their unending uses in the battlefield, I am quite limited in my knowledge of herbology and alchemy. Not only that, but I regrettably lack forms of healing magic in my arsenal. Halsin, on the other hand, is quite well-versed, and I'm certain can brew you up a tonic for that persistent pain of yours."
You listened to him quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips as he explained his thoughts to you. You were certain you'd never tire of it. How anyone found him frustrating was beyond you. His voice covered you in a blanket of comfort, and to know that he had already decided on a plan that's entire purpose was to ease you through the coming days sent a delightful buzz through you, slicing through the remaining ache.
"Thank you, Gale," you whispered, almost inaudibly.
"Always, my love," he whispered in return, his lips seeking yours, and breaking into a grin when he found them.
♡♡♡
Tagging, Darlings: @fanon-and-canon @knightofmight01 @just-a-refrigerator @micropoe10 @charlenestrawart @senualothbrok @worfs-glorious-hair
#baldur's gate 3#bg3#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#gale x reader#gale x tav#gale x f!tav#gale x f!reader#gale x female tav#gale x female reader#gale bg3
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You're Already Mine
aegon x f!reader // irrelevant!male x f!reader for 2 secs
au-ish where there are other dragon houses/families in westeros (kinda giving valyria ig) but targs still rule 👑 bc why street race in the modern world when you could dragon race in this fantasy world
Summary: You finally meet a rider worth your time at a race in the Kingswood. Having no care for the consequences, you spend the night with him and you both hope it won’t be the last.
Warnings: 18+ swearing, vulgar language, drinking, public(dragonback), fingering, oral(f), p in v, a fake wedding, ’whore’ is somewhat a term of endearment?, mention of pleasure houses and brothels
Authors Note: save me aegon the magnanimous save me 🧎🏼♀️ we were robbed of sunfyre and egg 🫠 this was supposed to be chill but i forgot i don’t know how to be chill w him
Word Count: 6.7k
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You’ve been secretly seeing the son of one of your fathers vassals for a couple months now. The rumors of you both have been causing tensions at family meals and you couldn’t be more delighted. Your mother reprimands you time and time again that you need to stop dragging the family name through the realm or it’ll ruin your chances to marry into a house of equal or better standing. You couldn’t care less of the house's standing but whether the man had a dragon or not and the son of the vassal has a dragon.
That’s all that he has going for him. He’s not even set to inherit his family seat, not that it was much anyway, but when he flew to your Keep you had to have him. He wasn’t the only one in his family to have a dragon but the way he carried himself drew you in. At first he seemed ever the perfect gentleman but after you bedded him, he started acting differently. He seemed to only use you for your cunt and you in turn only used him for his dragon. The past couple of months he’s taken you to different dragon races and you use these meets to see if you can find a better suitor. You know it’s vain and you shouldn’t use him but he’s using you.
So now you wait patiently on your chaise for the vassal's son to come and sneak you out of your chambers. He said he would meet you after moonrise and the moon has been high in the sky for well over an hour now. As the minutes tick by you become more annoyed and rise walking to the table to pour yourself a glass of wine. You down the cup and tap your fingers against the bottle debating on filling your glass once more. When you begin to tilt the bottle there’s a rapid knock and you sigh with relief as he slips through the door.
“Gods I thought you would never get here.” you place the bottle on the table abandoning your glass. “We’re gonna be late.” you pout and he chuckles pulling you out of your chambers.
“You know I’m the fastest flier there is.” he puffs his chest out and you roll your eyes.
“Yes, of course.” you pat his arm as he tugs you down the dark halls. He’s nowhere near the fastest flier in the realm let alone this city.
“Up you go.” his hand lands on your ass and you scoff before starting your ascent up the side of the winged animal. You take your seat and chuckle as he takes his seat behind you and pulls you against him. “I love that you refuse to wear riding leathers.” his fingers dance up your bare thighs.
“If you make us late I’ll make sure to never wear a dress around you again.” his hand lands on the inside of your thigh and you gasp.
Before you can turn around with your retort he has you both climbing to the skies. You hold tightly to the saddle as you pull further off the ground. A smile spreads across your face as his dragon launches you forward and the wind whips through your hair. This is the reason you stay with him. You’ve never been able to find a replacement for the freedom riding a dragon offers. As he starts your descent your eyes search around the forest floor to see if you spot any new dragons.
Aegon watches as you slide down the side of some losers dragon and groans as he watches your dress slide up showing him your stockings and thighs. He decides you’ll be his by the end of the night no matter what it takes. He watches as you ignore the rider and look around with wide eyes until they stop on Sunfyre. He smirks knowing he has you now. Aegon chuckles as you tug the rider's arm and point to Sunfyre excitedly and he watches as the rider starts to frown.
“And what’s so special about her? Besides the fact that she’s obviously here with someone.” his friend follows his eyeline to you.
“She likes Sunfyre.” he drags his eyes back to his friends as they offer him a cup of ale.
“How have you decided this?” one of them laughs.
“She was looking at him.” he takes a sip. “All wide eyed.” he nods and his friends start to chuckle.
“He’s gold. Of course she’s going to look at him.” Aegon waves his friends off and downs his cup.
He walks over to Sunfyre and pats at his chest as he curls his neck around him. His dragon chuffs as he scratches at his scales. Aegon chuckles as Sunfyre starts to circle around him. When his tail swishes past his head you’re standing in front of him with a smile plastered across your face and a fuming male rider behind you. He bats Sunfyre back who sits behind him as he approaches you.
“He’s so very beautiful.” you coo looking up at his dragon. Aegon smiles at your tone and sees the rider flare his nostrils.
“I’m sure he’s blushing hearing that coming from you.” your eyes flick to his and you look over the silver haired rider and sigh. This rider and his dragon are absolutely devastating.
“What’s his name?” you step closer and Sunfyre purrs, craning his head down towards you.
“Sunfyre.” Aegon offers the name and your face softens.
“Sunfyre.” you hum. “Because he’s as golden and as beautiful as the sun.” you muse as the golden dragon hovers a couple feet above you.
“He’s very sweet.” Aegon smiles watching you reach up toward him.
“If you touch his dragon I’m leaving you here.” the vassal's son grits through his teeth.
“Sunfyre doesn’t mind giving a ride home to a beautiful woman in need.” Aegon smirks at you and watches you mirror his expression as you reach your fingers higher for his dragon.
“Such a sweet boy.” you hum as Sunfyre presses his snout into your hand. “So handsome.” you hum as he lowers his head and you bring your other hand up to him.
“You’re a whore.” the vassal's son's voice is dripping with hatred. You snap your head back to him and as you open your mouth Sunfyre’s rider speaks.
“Aren’t we all?” Aegon raises his brow and you turn your attention back to him.
“Then you can have her.” he waves off both of you and stomps away.
“Who might my new ride be?” you tilt your head at the silver haired man.
“Aegon.” he watches with a smile as his dragon curls around you as you offer him your name.
“Not like the Aegon?” you can already tell this is the Prince from how finely his riding leathers are.
“So you’ve heard of me?” he tilts his head looking at you.
“Unfortunately my parents made me study with the septa everyday so yes, I know of you, my Prince.” you make a show of bowing lowly.
“I might prefer you a little lower.” he purrs and your eyes flick up to his.
“How would you like me? I’m yours to command.” you blink up at him, nibbling your lip.
“Preferably on your knees.” he watches your face spread with amusement before Sunfyre pushes you towards him. He reaches out and steadies you and you look closer at him and feel your cheeks heat. “I didn’t know whores blushed.” the words come from his mouth automatically and he is so scared you’re going to turn and leave him but then you laugh and everything changes.
“I can’t believe you said that.” you wipe away the tears as you hold your stomach still laughing.
“I can’t either.” he scolds himself for his voice wavering.
“It seems as if whores get shy as well.” you hum brushing your fingers against his blush. After the words leave your mouth he knows he’s never letting you go.
“Do you want to fly with me tonight?” he watches your pupils dilate.
“You’ll let me ride with you when you race?” a smile spreads across your face. “Really?” you search his eyes.
“Did he not let you ride with him?” he scrunches his brows looking at you as you shake your head.
“He said it would slow him down.” you nibble your lip.
“You’ll ride with me tonight.” he nods his head and your heart begins to race. “Do you have riding leathers or?” he stands back and looks at your dress.
“I don’t like wearing them.” you look up at him. “Will it be too distracting for you to have my skirts up to my waist?” he smirks thinking about the way you’ll be pressed back against him as he races through the sky.
“I’d be okay if you just took it off.” he says lowly and your tongue darts across your lower lip.
“You’d have to keep me warm.” you step closer to him.
“That’s not an issue.” he pulls you flush against his chest and smirks that you melt into him right away. He feels your hand reach for your dress laces and he groans, stopping your hand.
“Mm, too scandalous for you?” you smile up at him. “Are you a maiden, my Prince?” you whisper as his eyes grow wide.
“No, I just-
“I’m sullying the perfect, pure prince with my whorish ways.” you sigh and he grabs you pulling you against him.
“I just want to show you off to my friends before I fuck the words out of you.” he says lowly watching your cheeks slowly flush. He grabs your hand and starts to lead you in the direction of his friends spread around the massive fire.
“You stole her away from that rider already?” a man with blonde hair looks up at Aegon incredulously.
“She came to me.” he corrects. “I told you that she liked Sunfyre.” Aegon rolls his eyes, waving him off.
“When did you tell them this?” you ask with a smirk on your face.
“Gods the second you slid off that dragon I thought he was going-
“That's enough.” Aegon nods and grabs the flagon and fills two cups.
“But I want to hear this.” you accept the cup with a smile and sit on the ground with his friends.
“You saw the drool coming from him when her skirts lifted up right?” another one of his friends jokes with the blonde from earlier.
“How Sunfyre needed tending to right before a drinking game.” another male chimes in and Aegon groans taking a seat next to you.
“He did.” he glares at his friends over the lip of his cup.
“Are you blushing again?” you chuckle and he turns his head quickly to you as his friends start to giggle.
“Gods not you too.” he rubs his face. His friends all start talking over one another and you lean against him.
“I need tending to.” you whisper in his ear.
“Is that so?” he whispers back, his lips brushing against your ear sending shivers through you.
“If you put your hand up my skirts you’ll know what I need.” he swallows and turns to look down at you looking up at him innocently. As he’s about to respond a horn sounds and the riders start to walk towards the announcer.
“Later.” he pats your thigh before rising off the ground.
He holds his hand out for you and brings you with him to the gathering riders. You cling against him as you enter the crowd while he leads you both to the front. The announcer claps Aegon on the shoulder and brings you both up next to him. You feel no better than a man as you lean against him watching all of the women look at him with soft pouts. Your hand slides up his back to his hair almost possessively and he chuckles looking down at you.
“I’m the one who’s supposed to be holding you like a metal.” he whispers down to you.
“I’m not stopping you.” you grin up at him. You gasp as he pulls you against him and presses his lips to yours. As quickly as his lips are on you they’re gone and he’s looking down at your red cheeks. “One more?” you pout and he presses his lips to yours quickly. The announcer clears his throat and Aegon turns back towards him.
“I wanted to make it clear that attacks and burning are not permitted.” Aegon rolls his eyes. It was once and he didn’t even start it. “With that, to your mounts.” the announcer claps his hands together. Aegon leads you back over to Sunfyre keeping an arm wrapped around your waist.
“Are you ready?” he pulls you in front of him.
“I’m a little nervous.” you chew on your cheek. “I don’t want to slow you down.” he rolls his eyes.
“Trust me you won’t.” he smooths your hair back. “If anything I’ll fly faster just to impress my sweet whore.” you playfully push him back.
“Well help your sweet whore up or it seems we’ll be left behind.” you nod to all of the riders on top of their dragons already.
“Let’s go,” he smiles. “I wouldn’t want you to go home with another loser.” he gives you a quick spank pulling a gasp from your lips as you start your ascent. He helps you to climb up keeping his fingers dug into your hips as you straddle the leather. He watches your skirts ride up exposing your stockings and bare thighs to him once more. You lean forward to offer him more space and he groans when you arch your back as he presses in behind you. “Just like this.” he pulls you back roughly and lifts your dress more.
“Aegon.” you shiver at the breeze and his hand trailing up your thigh.
“It seems as if you do need tending to.” he smiles hearing your whimper as he trails a finger up the center of your small clothes. You squirm in his arms as he starts to press his lips to your exposed neck. “You’re gonna have to hold on tight.” you nod your head and reach out to grab onto the saddle. He watches as your knuckles turn white as his fingers slip under your small clothes.
“Yes,” you cry out at the soft swirl of his fingers against your bud.
Aegon fists the reins in one hand as you push back into him. The whimpers leaving your mouth make him want to abandon this race but Gods the thought of you coming on his fingers as he wins this has him straightening his back and getting into position. The horn bellows and you push back into his chest as Sunfyre shoots into the sky.
One moment you’re rocking against Aegon's fingers the next the ground his meters below. You sigh as his fingers leave your small clothes but it’s soon made up as the wind slips through your hair. Sunfyre gives out a cry and pushes forward faster. You turn your head to the side and see the other dragons falling behind. You smile and peer up at Aegon who’s concentrating on keeping course.
The sounds of your laughter cause Aegon's chest to tighten. The way you lean with him when he starts to turn brings a smile to his face. You can feel the confidence and energy pouring off of Aegon and it’s exciting you to no end. You’ve never flown this fast before and you get lost in the freedom of it. The winds shift once more as he turns back as you make your final stretch of the race. There’s a couple dragons behind but they are quickly forgotten when he slips his fingers back into your small clothes.
“Fuck Aegon,” you whine as his finger start to quickly circle your bud as he presses you closer against the saddle. He feels your hips roll against his hand and he slides his fingers down and slips them into you. He groans into your ear at the feel of you squeezing his fingers before he starts to pump his fingers. His thumb comes to circle on your bud once more and your body trembles beneath him. “Please.” you squeak.
Aegon tightens his grip on the reins and jolts Sunfyre forward faster. You gasp leaning back into his chest and he smiles as he sees the smoke rising from the fire. He starts to move his fingers faster and Sunfyre starts to dip back to the ground. Your heart races as you chase your high and feel yourself falling. The second Sunfyre touches the ground Aegon slams his fingers faster and your pleasure snaps.
“Aegon.” you moan loudly and heads start to turn your way as your chest heaves until more dragons begin landing behind you. He chuckles listening to your soft whines as he continues to slowly pump into you.
“We won.” he whispers as he pulls his fingers out.
“You can have me as your prize.” you pant and he pulls you back against him.
“You’re already mine.” he brings his fingers to his mouth to clean them off. “Let’s go celebrate.” he hums, helping you off of the saddle. When your feet touch the ground you sigh seeing the vassal’s son approaching.
“Are you coming home with me?” you can’t help the laugh that slips out.
“No, she’s coming home with me.” Aegon pulls you to his side with a grin.
“What do you think your parents will say? They’ll know you’ve been sullied then.” you blink at him as if that mattered to you.
“They’ll be glad it’s by a Prince and advocate for a betrothal.” you bite your lip to hide your smile. “They’ve been begging me to get rid of you for some time now anyways.” you watch his face drop and Aegon chuckles.
“And you’d marry him?” he glares at you.
“I’ll at least fuck him.” you shrug and his mouth drops. “He’s already made me come and that’s more than I can say about you.” his face gets red before he turns and leaves.
“He never made you come?” Aegon looks down at you with scrunched brows.
“No.” you feel your cheeks heat.
“Never?” you shake your head again. “Has anyone ever made you come?” he tilts his head.
“You.” you look up at him. “And my fingers.” your voice barely audible and he groans.
“Use my fingers next time.” he smiles watching you flush. “Or my tongue.” he steps closer to you, keeping his voice down. “Or my cock.” he runs his fingers down your arm before he presses his lips to yours. His arms slowly wrap around you pulling you against him while you cling onto the front of his riding leathers. He smiles at your soft gasp as he licks along the seam of your lips. When he pushes his tongue into your mouth you completely dissolve into him.
He groans hearing his friends approaching voices and cheers and reluctantly pulls back watching you look up at him with parted lips. His friends tug him from you and jump all over him congratulating him on his victory. He pushes them off playfully before pulling you back to his side. You both follow his friends back to the fire and one of them fills up cups and passes them out.
As the night grows older the more you lean against Aegon. Most of the other riders and dragons are gone, allowing the atmosphere to settle. You don’t think of the consequences you’ll face in the morning, only of how the night will end. Aegon feels you scooting closer and he wraps his arm tighter around you before resting his head on top of yours. You grab his hand, studying his fingers and rings. You move and look up at him and he smirks.
“I want to use your fingers.” you whisper and he clears his throat. ”Please,” you slightly pout your lips.
“Let me just-
“So when is the wedding?” one of his friends says pulling you both out of your bubble and you flush seeing his friends watching you both with smiles.
“Hopefully by the end of the week.” Aegon smiles squeezing your side.
“Aegon,” you roll your eyes lightheartedly.
“You’re right. Why wait? We should get married now.” he nods and you smirk up at him. One of his friends clears their throat dramatically and rises pulling your attention to him.
“It would be my honor,” he bows ridiculously deep. “To be the high septon for you both tonight.” Aegon looks up at him with a toothy grin.
“And I, the witness.” the blonde stands.
“Shall you be our flower girl then?” you nod your head at his remaining friend and they laugh.
“Yes, yes,” Aegon giggles, nodding his head and you turn to him at the sound seeing his face light up. “Then it’s settled. Get to it. Tell us when our ceremony is ready.” you watch as his friends jump to their feet and start moving things around.
“I didn’t plan on getting married tonight.” you look at Aegon who is already watching you.
“Oh Gods.” he buries his head in his hands. “You’re getting cold feet?” he looks up at you as you try to hide your smile.
“I’d say tepid.” he groans and leans back until he’s laying on the ground.
“You wound me, my betrothed.” he pulls you down onto his chest. He brings your lips to his and you scoot further up to press yourself against him. His hands find your ass and dig into it pulling a gasp from your mouth.
“This seems like coercion, my Prince.” you mumble against his lips. He chuckles, bringing one of his hands up to your hair and bringing you back down to his lips.
“Now, now, no fucking until its official.” his friends let out small giggles and you begin to untangle. “Come all to witness the Prince marry the one he has claimed.” you both chuckle seeing his friends gather closer to the fire.
Aegon helps you up and leads you over to his friends and they begin to move you both around. You walk with one of his friends to the end of the gravel walkway and wait until Aegon is next to the false septon. Aegon whispers to his friend with a smile and he pulls back and looks at him with scrunched brows. You hear a loud exhale and watch as he winces before he starts to talk again.
“I’ll now have you all turn your attention to Aegon's chosen whore.” you cover your mouth as you begin to laugh. Aegon watches you with a smile and holds his hand out towards you. His friend next to you tosses grass around while you walk up to Aegon.
“Your chosen whore?” you look up at him with a grin.
“Let the Gods look down and bear witness to this union. Bless them with many orgasms and drinks. Many sleepless nights and hungover mornings. Gods if you can hear this please bless this woman’s cunt from how thoroughly the Prince is going to fuck it tonight.” you can’t stop your snort of laughter and Aegon pulls you closer. “With the Gods as my witness I now announce you man and wife.” Aegon's lips smash to yours as he lifts you into his arms.
“Pick a ring.” he holds up his hand to you. “Just for now. I’ll get you one tomorrow.” he mumbles against your lips. You grab the ring closest to you and slip it on your hand and he slowly sets you back down.
“I don’t have a ring for you.” you look up at him.
“Let me have your small clothes.” he sinks to the ground.
“Aegon.” you softly scold. He smirks as you flush above him. He disappears under your skirts and starts to pull your small clothes down. He places a soft kiss on your slit before pulling them down to your ankles and having you step out.
“Thank you.” he wraps them around his wrist and his friends cheer and laugh watching the exchange. Aegon grabs your hand and tugs you away from the fire and spins you around the open field. You look and see his friends leaving the both of you and going back to drinking. You rest your head against his chest as he sways you under the moon. “What if I’m the one who begs for a true betrothal in the morning?” he mumbles, holding you closer so you can’t look up at his flushed face.
“Aegon.” you chuckle hearing his heart's rapid beating.
“Let me court you at least.” his hands squeeze your waist. “Please.” he presses his forehead against yours, finally taking in your eyes.
“Why do you want to court me?” you roll your eyes.
“Cause you’re my chosen whore and you laugh with my friends.” you raise your brows.
“Wow Aegon. I didn’t know your expectations were so high.” he hears your laugh but it doesn’t have the same ring to it.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” he stops swaying with you to really look at you. “I just- I don’t know, I think you're perfect and funny. You’re so beautiful. You like Sunfyre and want to race with us. You don’t think I’m some pig.” he rambles before seeing the grin form on your face. “Fuck,” he groans shutting his eyes. “I don’t know what to say without sounding stupid.” he looks down when you lean your head against his chest once more.
“I think your stupidity is endearing.” you smile as he holds you closer.
“Then let me court you so you can be around my stupidity more often.” he starts to regain some of his confidence. “You’ll be closer to my cock too.” you pull back to look up at him with a smile. “I can arrange it so your chambers are next to mine.” he nods.
“I don’t even know if I like your cock yet.” you purse your lips. “What if it’s tiny? What if you don’t fuck me the way I want?” you watch his eyes light with amusement.
“Then let’s go back to the Keep.” he starts tugging you in the direction of Sunfyre.
“Why?” you chew your lip with a smile, almost jogging to keep up with his pace.
“So we can find out if you like my cock or not.” he turns to take in your red cheeks. “And it’s our wedding night.” he pulls your hand to his mouth as we start to pass his friends.
“Enjoy bedding your wife.” one of his friends calls out and the rest of them laugh.
“I’m sure the rest of the Keep will enjoy hearing it.” another calls out and he laughs helping you climb back up Sunfyre.
Aegon helps you sit and smiles at your soft whine when your bare center meats the cold leather. He scoots you up and you whimper his name as his hands trail up your thighs. Sunfyre lifts you both into the sky and begins the journey to King's Landing. Aegon wraps the reins around the handles and brings his hands to you. His hand slips beneath your skirts and you push back into him.
“Does that feel good, my wife?” he smiles feeling your body start to tremble. “Do you like the way my fingers feel when they play with your wet cunny?” he circles his fingers around your bud faster.
“Oh Gods, husband.” you whine rocking against his hand. “Yes,” your soft whimpers have him turning your head and capturing your lips. You gasp into his mouth as he moves faster.
“Gonna come again for me?” you nod your head as your legs start to shake. Your lidded eyes slide up to his as your pleasure washes through you. You wrap your hand around his wrist as he keeps swirling his fingers. “Need a break already?” he chuckles as you jerk against his hand. He pulls his hand out and leans you back against him.
“Thank you.” you squirm as he presses his lips against your neck.
“Once I get you in bed there will be no more breaks.” he bites down softly, smiling at your whimper.
As Sunfyre circles the city you look at the streets still filled with people. Aegon watches your face light up and has Sunfyre soar over the city once more before landing at the pits. As you slide down into the cave you turn as Aegon starts to remove his riding gear. When he’s left in his tunic and trousers he walks over to you grabbing your hand.
“Shall we go home?” he presses his lips to his ring on your hand.
“Yes,” you nod looking up at him. “Let’s see if your cock is to my liking.” you hum and he starts tugging you down the stone halls. As you exit the dragon pits you look down upon the city at your feet. Aegon watches as a smile forms on your face and pushes away his desire, ready to parade you through the city and show you anything you want.
“Do you want to walk back?” he watches you chew your lip in thought but your desire outweighs everything.
“Take me to bed now and show me the city later.” he’s pulling you to the carriage his guard is standing in front of and whisks you inside. When the door snaps shut he pulls you onto his lap and presses your lips together. “I’ve been dying to ride another dragon.” he groans as you start to pull at his trousers.
“I’m not fucking you for the first time in this wooden box.” he grabs your wrist chuckling as you pout. He pulls you back down to his lips, letting you grind against him. You let out small whines as you feel his cock press into your bare center. He sighs in relief as the carriage comes to a stop and he pulls you off of him. As you step out into the night air he chuckles as you crane your neck up at the Keep.
“Don’t laugh at me.” you squeeze his side. “I haven’t been here in years. My parents don’t come to court often.” you purse your lips.
“I’ll show you everything later.” he pulls you in through the main doors and you trail after him looking around at the art on the walls. He leads you through the dim halls and up the stairs before he comes to a stop in front of a set of double doors.
“Are these our chambers, husband?” he has you sealed inside before he responds and you take in his thoroughly lived in chambers. “You’re a little messy.” you nibble your lip trying to hide your smirk.
“I don’t usually have anyone in my chambers.” he scrunches his brows.
“Then where do you take your pleasure, Aegon?” you walk over to him and he blushes wondering how you got the upper hand at this moment.
“Brothels and pleasure houses.” he mumbles looking down at you.
“Will you take me to one?” his eyes widen at your request. “Not tonight.” you chuckle patting his chest. “Maybe when you sneak me out of my chambers that will be next to yours? We can see and try new things together.” Aegon's mind goes blank at your words.
“Yes.” he nods his head quickly. “Gods yes. Please marry me.” you laugh and he’s pulling you to his chest and quickly starts to unlace your dress. He pulls it down your shoulders and leaves it discarded on the floor and stands back to look at you. “Gods I’m thankful that man never made you come.” he walks over to you letting his fingertips coast over your skin.
“Why?” your voice shaky as you tremble under his touch.
“Cause you left him for me.” he says with a smirk. “And I get to show you what real pleasure is.” you pull at his tunic as he starts to press his lips to your neck. He starts to kiss down your chest to your breasts while his fingers tease the underside of them.
“Aegon,” you whine as his tongue glides across your nipple.
“I’m sure he never offered these the proper attention either.” he circles the hard peak before blowing on it. He smiles watching you clench your legs before he sucks your nipple back into his mouth. When your fingers travel to his hair and softly tug is when he brings his hand between your thighs. He teasingly trails one finger down your slit and your fingers tighten in his hair.
“Please,” your soft plea goes straight to his cock as he licks over to your other nipple.
“I didn’t know whores begged.” he chuckles and you pull his hair tightly.
“Maybe I should’ve picked a rider who could be quiet.” you purse your lips looking down at him and his hand lands on your ass.
“No one else could ever make you feel as good as I can.” he bites teasingly next to your nipple before he backs you up to the bed. “Has anyone ever licked your sweet little cunny?” he lays you back watching a flush spread across your chest as you shake your head. “Can I?” you nod quickly and he kneels on the floor and slowly spreads your legs pressing his lips to the insides of your thighs.
“Mm,” a soft moan falls from your lips and you watch him lick the sides of your slit. When his tongue pushes into your core your eyes fall shut. His tongue is slow and deliberate as he listens to how you react to each swipe and flick. Each small jerk of your hips spurs him on to keep showering you with pleasure. You arch off the bed when his tongue circles your bud and pulls you flush against his mouth fully devouring you.
“Aegon,” you gasp as your hand flies to his hair. “Oh Gods,” you rock against his mouth as his tongue lashes against you. Every noise that comes from you goes straight to Aegon's cock and makes him move his tongue faster. Your stomach tightens and you hold his face against you feeling your high quickly approaching. “Please, yes,” you cry out as your thighs slam around his head. Aegon moans into you, licking at you as you shutter above him.
“Did you like that?” his tone teasing as he lifts up from you with a wet chin, licking his lips.
“Yes,” you nod, still trying to catch your breath. You watch as he stands and starts to pull off his tunic and trousers. Your eyes travel to his cock and your legs spread a little wider.
“Is my cock big enough for you?” he fists himself watching you squirm up his bed as he walks towards you. “Do you think your little cunny will hug it nicely?” he taunts as he crawls over you on the bed lifting and scooting you up towards his pillows. He leans down and presses his lips to yours as his tip slides between your slit. “Does that feel good?” he chuckles watching you squirm as he slowly rocks his hips.
“Please Aegon,” you whine arching up into him.
“What do you want?” he presses his lips against your neck.
“Fuck me. Please,” you feel his cock twitch between your legs. “Aegon, please,” he lines himself up and slowly starts to push into you. “Yes.” the softest plea he’s heard comes from you as he rolls his hips. He repeats his actions a little faster to hear your noises.
“You feel so good.” he groans as you wrap your legs around him.
“Harder.” you hear his low chuckle before he snaps his hips into yours. He starts a harsh pace and pulls back to watch your pleasure take over your body. When his thumb brushes against your bud it takes you so unexpectedly that you pulse around him. “Aegon.” you cry out holding him tightly. “I’m-I, please,” your pleasure continues to wash through you as his pumps slow.
“You did so good.” he hums, rocking into you once more. You peel your eyes open and look up at him as he presses into you slowly. “Taking me so well.” a small whine comes from you at his words. “Hugging my cock so tightly.” he presses his forehead against yours.
“More.” the word barely audible. You jerk your hips up and he smirks, hammering back into you once more. “Thank you,” your small gasps start to come out more high pitched as he snaps into you. “Please,” your body goes taut as waves of pleasure wash through you.
“Fuck,” Aegon groans, burying his head in your neck as he spills his pleasure into you. You pull his lips down to yours while you both softly rock into each other. He pulls back and watches your face scrunch with pleasure as he keeps rolling his hips into you. “So?” he looks down at you.
“Hm?” you raise an eyebrow. “Aegon,” you whimper as his hips continue to push into you.
“You said our marriage depended on my cock. How’d I do?” you blink up at him as you still feel every inch of him buried in you as he chuckles. “Tell me.” he presses his lips to your neck.
“You fucked me so good,” you breathe out and he smiles hearing your soft gasps. “Fuck me again just so I know you can do that more than once.” you smirk as he lifts up and looks down at you with a raised brow. He pulls out of you and flips you over quickly.
“Oh my sweet wife,” he chuckles, lifting your hips. “That was only the beginning.” he watches you fist the sheets as he slams into you. He leans over you slowly snapping his hips into you listening to your moans. “How does this feel? Hm?” he whispers in your ear as he keeps pushing into you.
“Aegon,” he chuckles, hearing his name slurred on your tongue. He slows his thrusts and you whine rocking your hips back.
“I asked how it was, not who was fucking you so thoroughly.” he smiles feeling you squeeze around him tightly. “Tell me.” he snaps into you once before slowly grinding you into the bed.
“Please,” you arch your ass up into him and gasp when his hand lands on your ass.
“My little wife, if you don’t answer my question properly I won’t let you come again.” he smiles hearing the frustrated whimper come from you.
“Feels so good, Aeg.” you pant. “So fucking good. Please, husband.” he kisses your shoulder before lifting up and pounding into you. You whine as his fingers dig into your hips and you feel your high building.
“I feel you squeezing me so tightly.” he chuckles, moving his hands to dig into the soft flesh of your ass. “Is your little cunny wanting me to fill it again?” he watches your elbows give out as you slide against his sheets with every thrust. He listens to your soft pleas and whines and the second you pulse around him he’s filling you. “I’m never letting you go.” he groans, pulling out of you.
“I want to do that again.” you pant, turning your head to him as he collapses next to you.
“I’m nowhere near done for the night.” he turns to you with a lazy grin.
ততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত
masterlist 🔌
um do i make a couple more parts to this? yes or yes
taglist ✍️
@ka1afbr @ninihrtss @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @alexxavicry @misspendragonsworld @papichulo120627 @ashovertheriver @gabriella-aesthetic @moonymoo1 @faenyra @uwuuness @lizzylovebooks280501 @nostalgiagoth03 @multilover19
#i dont think ill ever get over this man and im not sry about it x#aegon the magnanimous#aegon targaryen ii#aegon ii#aegon the second#aegon x reader#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aegon ii fanfic#aegon smut#hotd aegon#aegon x reader smut#aegon ii smut#aegon ii x reader#hotd smut#hotd fanfic#x reader#x reader fic#x reader smut#aegon ii x you#aegon ii x y/n
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STAY WITH ME
pairing; rafe cameron x sweetie reader
summary; being with rafe means being with the camerons which means going to large events full of businessmen and looking pretty while your boyfriend makes his face known. these events are the kinds of things you can’t get out of, even if you are absolutely not in the right headspace and being there will cause more of an inconvenience for you and rafe than not
content; subspace, ddlg themes, thumb sucking, fingering, ‘dad’ nickname
authors note; re upload!
you walk into the venue, hanging from rafe’s arm like an accessory. your dress is uncomfortable, your heels are rubbing at your feet, your hair is pulled back and it’s hurting your scalp. normally these are all things that you can put up with for the few hours that these functions last for, but today you’re not feeling right, you’ve been using your head for too long and you need to be taken care of right now.
that’s not an option, rafe had made that ever so obvious when you’d nearly slipped away in the car trying to mouth at his neck. he’d told you that you can’t stop thinking right now, and he is not going to be letting you slip away until after the function when you’re back in the security of your own home.
you’re halfway gone already whether he likes it or not, inside the venue he has to keep you close to his side, and he doesn’t miss that absent look in your eyes. you stay quiet while he mingles with many businessmen whom you do not know, answering with nothing but little incoherent murmurs when you’re addressed.
rafe chuckles, “excuse me sirs,” he looks down at you and then back up again, “my girlfriend is feeling… under the weather tonight.” he explains before turning away, taking you with him. as you both walk towards the dining hall he leans down to speak to you, “can’t do this right now.” he tells you, “you’re gonna keep being a big girl like I’ve told you to, ‘kay?” it’s not a question, it’s a command, you must stay there, stay with rafe.
“m’trying.” you huff, still leaning against him, trying to be as close to him as you can, “it’s hard… just need you dad..” you look up at him with wide eyes. you need him to get it, you need to have him take care of you.
“dont care, you’re gonna hold out okay?” and that is the end of the conversation as you take your place in your assigned seats for the meal. rose is next to you, ward is next to rafe. there are two more businessmen at the table, each accompanied by their wives.
you take a moment to look at the set menu. it’s all fancy shit that you don’t want! you want to be at home, this stupid function is so dumb. you need to stop thinking, but you can’t.
you’re half tuned into the small talk of the table when the waiters bring out starters. steak tartare. you have to stop yourself from gagging when it’s placed in front of you, what an abomination of food. you can’t believe that the concept of riches became, and this is what they came up with for it.
you don’t manage one bite before subtly spitting it out into your napkin. you can’t do this anymore, you can’t sit here, you can’t think anymore. you push your chair back and stand up, lip wobbling as you don’t even make an excuse before you push your chair back and stand up.
upon realising that you’ve drawn eyes, you send rafe an urgent look and he sighs in deep annoyance before standing with you. “excuse us. she has an upset stomach.” he makes something up before placing a hand on your lower back and starting to walk you towards the restroom.
rafe pushes the door open and leads you inside. it’s a large, rather extravagant bathroom. there’s a parting area where the sink is, and then another door leading to the toilet area. rafe ushers you in and takes you to the counter where the sink is, lifting you up to sit on it. it seems he’s finally accepted that you can’t hold out in this headspace anymore.
you sniffle, it’s all crashing down on you now, finally in a private space with the one such unlikely person that you feel safe with. “I need-”
“I know.” he cuts you off, sighing exasperatedly, but his gaze softens and he brings his hand up to your face, tapping your bottom lip with his thumb so you can take it in and suck, “need dad. m’here.” he speaks defeatedly.
you take his thumb thankfully, closing your eyes and finally allowing yourself to slip into that oh so happy place. your whole body relaxes and you find yourself falling forward to be supported by his upper body where he stands in between your legs in front of the counter.
“there you go,” he sighs, reluctantly providing the care that you need from him. “just suck on dad’s thumb.” he rubs your back, letting you fully relax into your headspace. you feel serene, all of your troubles melting away. you’re safe now. safe with dad.
he sighs, “can never do this when it’s convenient can you?” even though the most prominent tone in his voice is clear frustration, you only allow yourself to notice the small amount of affection. it brings you great comfort, and with no understanding of his rhetorical question, you nod against his shoulder.
he chuckles, rubbing your back, “m’gonna take care of you, then you’re gonna be my big girl again until the end of this thing,” he presents, pulling you back so that your wide eyes make contact with his. “think that’s fair?”
you look up, “don’t wanna be a big girl,” you shake your head, “want to stay with dad.” you tell him, voice quiet from being relaxed, and warbled around the digit that remains in your mouth.
he tuts gently, “gotta compromise,” he tells you, curling his thumb in your mouth just a little to cause you some sensation. “can you do that? make a compromise for dad?” he raises his eyebrows, making a clear command, not a request.
you huff moodily, but you nod, knowing that if you don’t do as he says then you’ll be forced to come out of this headspace much sooner than what would be your compromise. “just,” you start, pulling his thumb from your mouth for a second so that you can talk, “just look after me now dad. please?”
he nods, “alright, alright.” his hand comes down, thumb now soaked in saliva. he slips it under the short skirt of your dress and brushes your clit through the lace of your underwear, making you shiver from much needed stimulation.
you shift around slightly on the marble counter, allowing your skirt to ride up a little and bunch around your hips. rafe pulls your panties to the side, revealing your glossy cunt to him, making your need for him so obvious.
he smirks, and his thumb brushes through your folds, as you react physically he supports you like a pillar, strong and sturdy and there for you. you let yourself go limp against him and he lets himself push two fingers inside.
slowly but surely, he starts to finger you, and he does it good. he doesn’t treat you like this often, normally there must be something in it for him. so it’s such a relief when he does something specifically for you, just for you.
you relax into bliss for what easily feels like hours even though it’s not. pleasure that reaches you so well, so deeply like it’s in your bones. you open your mouth, nearly biting his shoulder to muffle the noises that you want to make. there’s sure to be a large patch of slobber there when you’re done but you don’t care.
your whole body squirms, as much as it can in this limited space of movement. your legs shake, and your belly ripples with every wave of blissful pleasure that washes over you.
you can barely think of where you are by the time that climax finally reaches you. all thoughts leave your mind and the only thing you can do is whimper a small “oh, dad!” as it happens. it lasts you a minute, and you are completely out of breath afterwards.
“hey,” rafe pushes you up from where you lay limp on his shoulder, “gonna come back to me now,” he tells you, “come back to rafe.”
rafe. rafe. rafe. you don’t want to, you want to stay with dad in this thoughtless state of mind. but it’s not an option, so you must return to your uncomfortable, half gone headspace for the rest of the night until he can take you home and be dad for real. not quickly and rushed like this.
with great difficulty and great reluctance, you nod. “rafe,” you murmur sadly, “m’here with you rafe.”
rafe smiles affectionately, “there you go, good girl.”
#lily writes 𝜗𝜚#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron concept#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron
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Yandere!Fyodor x Reader
I took a liking to this man recently so bear with me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_ Promise I'll write one for Dazai soon.
The step-mother who once wore a mask of kindness revealed her true nature after your father passed away.
"Y/n!!!!! Get down here!" The woman adorned in luxurious fabrics and expensive jewels screamed your name at the top of her lungs. You were cleaning the messed she caused you earlier that morning.
I'm thirsty! Go make me a drink - the elder woman demanded, tossing you orders like you were nothing but a servant. Dutifully, you got her a glass of orange juice, only for her to knock it to the floor, watching it shatter without so much as a sip. Now, you carefully pick up the sharp fragments, trying not to cut yourself.
Her voice rang out again, shrill and impatient. You replied reluctantly, fully aware that hearing your name from her lips rarely brought anything good "Yes, I'm coming!"
Descending the stairs, you were greeted by an unfamiliar man seated on the couch sipping tea while speaking to your stepmother. The moment his eyes - cold and calculating met yours, a chill ran down your spine. Something was off.
Behind him stood two soldiers, their presence exuding quiet menance. Without warning, at his signal, they raised their weapons and shot your stepmother dead before your eyes.
"Y/n.." The man said, stepping forward. His uniform bores an air of authority, and his eyes, a piercing shade of violet, seemed to see right through you. "I need your ability." You stared at him with question. What ability? You have one?
You avoided his eyes and stared back where the corpse of your stepmother was. The man moved in your direction to keep your eyes on him. "You didn't know? Your father was a honorable man, yet he told you nothing?" You shook your head, stunned.
He sighed, almost amused "My my... You have the power to predict the near future, Y/n. Now that I've freed you from.." his gaze flicked to the corpse "whoever that was to you. I want you to work for me." Suprisingly, you agreed.
The man introduced himself as Fyodor Dostoevsky. He was straightforward, almost unsettlingly so. He admitted having prepared several ways to persuade you, but things had turned out far easier than he anticipated.
As your childhood home burnt to the ground, You felt little attachment to the ashes left behind. Without your father, it had never truly felt like home.
┈┈┈┈
"Now that you're with me, I'll teach you to use your ability." Fyodor said, his lips curling to a smile as he lead you to a room in his mansion. The place was old, its hallways cracks and worn, yet some rooms looked oddly well-maintained. The moment you sat on your bed, a strange sensation overtook you. Pain pierces your skull like a hammer blow, your nose bled, and your body collapsed. You fainted.
When you open your eyes, the first thing you saw was Fyodor sitting by your bedside. "Ah, you're awake. How do you feel?"
"Much better", you replied, though your voice was quiet and hesitant. "Good, rest." His hand gently patting your head. Suspicious of his kindness, you put his hand away and backed of a little. "You said you need my ability, what for?" For a moment, he was silent, simply staring at you with those unnerving eyes. That act creeps you out. Then, he stood and turned toward the door. "You'll find out soon enough." Before leaving, he added "You'll understand."
That night, sleep evaded you. Creaking footsteps echoed from above and around your room. A constant reminder of guards patrolling the mansion. Your mind raced with questions about Fyodor. Cruelty seemed second nature to him. After all, he had ordered your stepmother's death without hesitation.
A voice suddenly whispered from the windows "Shh, over here!" You turned, startled to see a man with white hair and a distinctive fringe. "I'm here to save you, open the window!"
"Save me?" You murmured to yourself, wondered.
┈┈┈┈
The story started to unfold as you encountered Atsushi and the men he mentioned to be detectives from Armed Detective Agency, your ability leading you to dangerous visions and even more dangerous choices.
"So she fled?" Fyodor stood in your room questioning the two guards, eyes scanning the whole place. "W-we didn't hear any sound.. sir- --khoff-" The one who was answering him cough up blood and drop dead soon after, leaving the other trembled in fear. "FIND HER!" Fyodor ordered.
Suddenly, a vision flashed in front of your eyes, you saw Fyodor. "STOP!!" You screamed, frightened Atsushi who was rushing through the bushes. He then stopped. He knew you saw something, as your ability is unstable, he didn't know when it will happen, yet it's better to be cautious. Fyodor is no man to joke with.
And so You returned. On your own.
Fyodor didn't even have to go, you're already here. "What did you see that changed your mind?"
"A lot" you replied "and definitely not worth risking the lives of others." By 'a lot', you mean there will literally be mountains of corpses. You got a hint of his nature and it was wrong for you to follow him back here, but he freed you from that wicked woman. You have mixed feelings about him. Fyodor signaled you to come closer to where he sits. You followed, he pulled you in. "Don't worry, You are in good care."
┈┈┈┈
Months passed. The bond between you and Fyodor grew more complicated. He exploited your ability ruthlessly, yet showed an inexplicable tenderness towards you. His touch lingered, his words carry a weight you couldn't ignore, and his gaze seemed to pierce in your very soul.
The only drawback to using your ability was the toll it took on your body. Prolonged use often left you feverish and drained.
Today was one of those days. You lay sprawled in your bed, feeling as though every ounce of strength had left your body. It was nearly impossible to even lift a finger.
"Y/n! Time to take your medicine." Fyodor called as he pushed the door open. Since aligning yourself with him, you had become something of a criminal, constantly moving from one safe house to another. You had long lost count of how many places you'd stayed in. Fyodor often leaves you behind, disappearing for meetings or visits to members of his mysterious organization. He never shares the details of his plans, brushing off your curiosity with a dismissive "It doesn't concern you."
Now as he sat beside you, you couldn't help but feel conflicted. You'd seen firsthand how easily he sacrificed others, treating them as pawns in his schemes. So why did he bother taking care of you with such apparent concern?
"Y/n, what are you thinking about?" He asked, his piercing eyes scanning your face. You shook your head weakly, unable to answer. He sighed and helped you sit up, his hands steady yet firm. "Your temperature is no joke, can you take this on your own?"
Before you could respond, another vision overwhelmed you. A sudden flash of Fyodor mercilessly killing the members of ADA. Blood, screams and lifeless bodies filled your mind, and it was enough to make your stomach churns. You had only encountered Atsushi and others a handful of times, but their kindness had left an impression. You couldn't bear the thought of them meeting such a cruel fate.
"Y/n! Y/n!" Fyodor's voice broke through the fog of your vision. "Huh..?" Your consciousness wavered as you turned your head towards him. The dizziness hit you like a wave, and you nearly collapsed into his arms. For a brief moment, you thought you saw worry flicker across his face. That couldn't be right, Fyodor, worried? It had to be your imagination.
Without a word, he placed the pills into your mouth. Then, to your surprise, he drank water from the glass and passed it to you through a kiss. You were too weak to resist, and before you could process the intimacy of the act, the medicine was already working its way down your throat.
By the next morning, your fever had broken, and you felt noticeably better. You left your room quietly, your curiosity pulling you toward Fyodor's study. He was asleep, his usual composed expression softened in slumber. You hesitated, unsure whether to disturb him, but the stack of papers on his desk caught your attention. Creeping closer, you skimmed the documents. Your breathe hitched. Among the papers were detailed accounts of your father's death, your personal profile and outlines of Fyodor's larger plans.
And then there were the pills, your medicine. The documents revealed that their side effects weren't a natural result of using your ability but something he had engineered.
"Enjoying yourself, curious cat?" The low, mocking voice made your heart stop.
Before you could react, Fyodor was behind you. His hands pinned you to the desk, his tall frame casting a shadow over you.
"You..." the words caught in your throat. You were powerless, frozen under his control.
He leaned down, his breath warm against your neck as he inhaled deeply. "What a shame, I had hoped you would find those later," he murmured, his voice tinged with disappointment. Without warning, pain seared through you as his teeth sank into your neck. You gasped, the sensation both shocking and terrifying.
"I suppose I'll have to accelerate my plans" He said, pulling back to meet your wide-eyed stare. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him "I've given you everything you wanted, haven't I, Y/n?"
Your gaze dropped to his chest, unwilling to meet his piercing eyes. "Yes.." you whispered.
"Good." His voice softened, almost tender. "Then from today onward, you'll give me what I want."
#yandere bsd#bsd#bsd fyodor#fyodor dostoyevsky bsd#fyodor x reader#bsd x you#yandere x reader#bsd x reader
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I'm so super curious can you tell me more about your interpretation of Yuusaku as a character ^_^
oh thank you for asking! tbh i haven't given yuusaku all that much thought compared to other characters, but i tend to ramble when no one is there to stop me, so this will probably still end up lengthy. (edit from the future: it did)
because of my latest fic and a previous ask, one might get the impression that i dislike him, but i don't. i don't feel one way or the other about him, he's fun to me as a tool for writing ogata and that's about it (same for vasya but this ain't about him). but! ever since i've written 'all that loves you', i've been thinking about the juxtaposition of his good intentions and the more sinister undertones of his worldview, and that's a juicy contrast to sink my teeth into.
on the one hand, he's a naive sheltered kid, a victim of his father and his country. i cannot in good conscience prescribe him ill intent. i believe he suffered at the hands of his father as ogata has suffered -- he was raised an unquestioning lamb to the slaughter and sent off to charge head-first into said slaughter over and over and over until his inevitable end.
not his father, not tsurumi, not ogata, not any other soldier saw him as a person. being disdained for who you are and put on a pedestal for the very same thing are both a kind of dehumanization. he was never hanazawa yuusaku the man to anyone, only a symbol, either in life or in death. even to the story, he's nothing but ogata's plot device. he's barely there. hell, he's nothing but ogata's plot device to me. talk about tragedy.
he wasn't given much time or chance to break out of what he's been taught. all that bullshit about duty and purity and having to be a symbol of both -- when it's all you've ever known, it'll stick. maybe, the inevitability of all i'm about to describe makes him tragic all the more.
and yet!
he is not any naive sheltered kid. he is a japanese soldier in china in 1904. he is dying and leading others into death for a brutal imperialist landgrab. you could argue about how much agency he has over the fact and over his convictions (as a ukranian in russia and the child of an officer, i've had PLENTY of that argument), but i'm not gonna do that here. whatever your stance, the outcome is the same: he's an enthusiastic participant to something truly horrible.
and in the midst of it, his desire to preserve his "purity" comes off as absurd and self-delusional. i'm not arguing for murder; i'm arguing that his belief in this abstract purity, that he has one to maintain in the first place, and, by extension, that he's the only soldier around who should do it makes him extremely out of touch. i've written about this from ogata's perspective in 'this weapon wants' and 'all that loves you': while ogata doesn't think much of the war they're in, he does see a holier-than-thou attitude in the way yuusaku refuses to kill. it's as if he's the only one who can and should keep his hands clean in an inherently dirty ordeal. yuusaku may not himself be an arrogant man, but arrogance does follow from his worldview.
there's a different, more sinister side to this i've explored in 'all that loves you', which i remember you (the author of the ask) (god i hope you're still reading) have read! the world is complex. you cannot let black-and-white thinking dictate your actions without eventually stumbling into a whole lot of harm, whether to others or to yourself. murder is a terrible act, yes. but some people need to be stopped, and for some of them, murder is the only way to do it. if you (the person reading this) haven't read 'all that loves you', it puts yuusaku's views to the test in this exact scenario. and the result is. well. quite fucked up. and it follows pretty seamlessly from what we see of yuusaku in canon, so make of that what you will.
speaking of which, you know how he tells ogata that people like him shouldn't exist while embracing him? also fucked up. yuusaku has the best of intentions, and there's not a chance in the world he has the awareness to go "ok not feeling the emotion of guilt doesn't inherently make you Wrong", but the fact remains: he assumes ogata shares his presumably universal morals and ends up playing right into his insecurity.
there's also yuusaku lacking the self-awareness to know that he's imposing on ogata with his affection. i'm extrapolating here, but i feel like yuusaku's simplistic worldview only allows for affection=good! desirable! and he doesn't stop to question whether it's welcome.
to that: a friend of mine has pointed out once that this astounding inability to read the room could be due to autism. genius take in my opinion. seeing how strong, rigid morals are also an autism thing, i'm convinced now that autism runs in the family. diversity win?
so yeah, to sum this all up, yuusaku has been set up to fail, and fail he did. he's naive, kind, well-intentioned, he's as much of a victim as his brother, but all sorts of messed up things follow from his beliefs and his actions.
and i just think that's neat.
#golden kamuy#hanazawa yuusaku#god. so many letters. i am so sorry dear tumblr user vvindication#note to anyone reading: don't ask me open-ended questions#“i'm not arguing for murder” (1 paragraph later) *argues for murder*#ask
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Authors killing off characters because, "It's not realistic for everybody to survive."
Yeah? Well last time I checked, vampires, werewolves, dragons, fairies, etc... none of those things are real. Last time I checked, there aren't serums you can inject yourself with to gain abilities, physical or magical. Last time I checked, no one has the ability to get into someone else's head and see their thoughts, alter their memories, or take complete control of their mind. Last time I checked, people can't speak fire into existence or control the flow of water with a thought or conjure magical shields.
Nothing about this story is "realistic," so JUST LET EVERYBODY LIVE!!!!!
#is that really too much to ask?#what's one more unrealistic thing in a world of fantasy?#why create these wonderful characters that you know I'll love#just so you can use them to rip my heart out later?#I don't read these books for them to be realistic#I read them to see the impossible come to life#to experience incredible new worlds#and meet incredible new characters#and all of you authors need to keep your hands to yourself#and stop killing off my beloved characters#authors#writers#books#books and reading#fantasy
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