#but...it can be very much read as 'losing your virginity'

[targaryen-dynasty]

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.

Modern!Daemon Targaryen x au pair/cam girl!Reader

"You didn’t expect your host dad to be back so early, yet things take an interesting turn when he catches you in a compromising situation. What’s better than losing your virginity to a man that knows just what he’s doing?"

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MDNI; non/dub-con, semi public sex?, p in v, fingering, praise kink, loss of virginity, oral fixation, rough sex, unprotected sex, female Reader, modern AU

WORDS: 3.4 K

NOTES: This is an older story, slightly edited bcs I didn't want to change too much. Consider it as my gift for reaching 3K followers! You know me: a celebration will follow from 15th of July until the 26th!

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

The luxurious apartment is quiet, safe for the soft giggles and moans coming from your bedroom, the door slightly ajar since you’ve anticipated being alone for a little longer. It’s what catches Daemon’s attention as he steps into the dark hallway with all lights turned off and both his sons put to bed. 

Curiosity is what gets the best of him as he approaches the door silently, peering inside of your room with a raised eyebrow. His jaw immediately sets as soon as he notices what exactly you’re up to, knowing all too well despite your back facing the door. 

The black office chair you sit in almost covers your frame completely, directed towards your desk with your laptop opened and Daemon and your large bed merely seeing the back of the chair. 

As a man with ample experience up his sleeve, Daemon can easily gauge what you’re doing. Both your feet are propped up at the edge of the chair, legs spread and bent at the knees, and your forearm slides up and down in a slow but steady rhythm. And if that’s not making it obvious enough already, the faint squelching sounds of your fingers slipping in and out of your cunt are a dead giveaway. 

His desire to respect your privacy is big, but he can’t seem to bring himself to shut the door, leave you alone and act as if nothing has happened. Something dark is stirring deep inside of him, surging to the surface and not allowing him to act rational. He knows what every other host would do, but he’s not like everyone else – even you’ve noticed that very early on in the job – and especially not when he’s handed the one thing he’s wanted for so, so long on a silver platter. You. 

“Do you like watching me?” you hum, far too occupied by the little messages popping up on the screen in front of you. The quiet sigh Daemon makes as he fears that you’ve caught him red-handed goes completely unnoticed by you, and his racing heart quickly calms the moment you slightly lean forward to squint at the screen of your laptop and read the chat. But he’s not sure if it’s his luck or not, because your next words feel as though the air is forced from his lungs, heat spreading in his loins that makes him palm his half-hard cock, lightly stroking it through the fabric of his slacks. 

Tipping your head back against the chair, you release another quiet moan. “I wish you could fuck me right now, hmm, take my virginity.”

The urge to groan is adamant, lingering at the back of his throat, and he takes that as his cue to interrupt, although a part of him also is curious to see how much farther you would go. His strides are leisure as he steps into the room, moving to peek over your shoulder. 

“Now that’s quite an invitation,” he remarks, his voice low and deep. “Do you put on a show like this often, little mouse?”

There is a slight stutter in your arm as you hear his voice behind you, and with merely your pelvic region up to your neck being in view, you allow your facial expression to slip. Though the movements of your hand stop, you let it stay in the exact position – perhaps a part of you wanted to be caught by him all along. 

The neckline of the tank top you wear is pulled down enough for both your perky breasts to spill over the fabric – the damn top you wear almost every evening, prancing around the apartment, entertaining the boys and practically begging for him to devour you wholly – and when heat blossoms in your cheeks, it also runs down to your cleavage. As you try to shut the laptop, Daemon is one step ahead of you, gripping it to keep it open. 

“M… Mister T–” His name dies on your tongue with the realization of your viewers still present and the stream not being muted. “I didn’t expect… I didn’t think you’d be home so–”

He interrupts you with a raised index finger, his darkened eyes shamelessly raking over your exposed body. Even your own eyes trail down to the slight dickprint in the front of his dark slacks, leaving little to the imagination. Your mouth runs dry as you try to make the size out of the outline. 

“Oh, don’t mind me, keep going,” he says, a wicked smile on his lips. “I wouldn’t want to ruin your show. Your audience is waiting, and it seems as if they’re quite enjoying the show you’re putting on for them…or perhaps I should join?”

“Join?” your voice comes out in a squeak, liquid fire spreading through your veins from embarrassment. “I… I don’t think that… the stream… my followers–”

Daemon chuckles. “Oh, come on now, I’m just offering help,” he says in a nonchalant way. “Your viewers would appreciate the extra entertainment, I’m sure. And I know I would as well.”

The feeling of his presence is so adamant as he leans closer towards you — the heat of his body and smell of his scent almost enough to distract you. You can feel your body react, your heart racing in your chest. Your eyes dart to the screen of your laptop, where the chat is bombarded with comments, most of them begging for you to agree while others even offer extra money for him to join. Even if they can’t really see him, they can hear him perfectly clearly and that seems to be enough for them. 

“You’re impossible,” you mutter. 

He grabs the chair and turns it around so you’re facing him now. With his hands gripping the armrest on either side of the chair, you’re trapped by him. “Just look at them,” he remarks, nodding towards the screen. You turn your head to the side, eyes meeting the screen again. “Seems like you have some eager viewers, little mouse. They’re practically begging for it, and you should give them what they want.”

You can feel your resolve crumble with every word that leaves his lips, your cunt throbbing at the mere thought. “But… But I have never…” you trail off, fixing your gaze with his. 

“Oh, I know,” he says. “But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. Just get on the bed for me, sweetheart.” With his hands leaving the chair, you find yourself able to breathe again, the tension in your body calming slightly. 

Nodding like an utterly obedient thing, you swallow hard, a mixture of excitement and trepidation swirling within you. You follow his instructions, rising from your chair to walk past him towards the bed. His purple eyes all but burn into your body on your way, making you shiver. 

For Daemon, there is no greater pleasure than seeing somebody as obedient as you. Watching you walk past him makes him feel a twitch in his groin, his hard cock straining against the confines of his slacks.

While you crawl onto the bed, Daemon pulls the office chair to the side to clear the view for your audience, a smug smirk adorning his face. He stalks towards the bed, movements slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey. He brings his hand to your face and cups it, his thumb running over your lips. 

You lean into his touch, eagerly opening your mouth to allow him to push his digit inside. You shouldn’t be doing this, but you have always felt drawn to the forbidden. It’s his charisma and the dominance he radiates that has lured you in ever since your first interview, and on top of that, he’s so damn easy on the eyes, you would be stupid to turn him down. 

And what’s better than losing your virginity to a man that has ample experience up his sleeve? One that clearly knows what he’s doing? 

“Now, let’s give them a show they’ll never forget, shall we?” he asks. 

You nod your head while coyly sucking his thumb, finding a weird satisfaction in it that makes you feel completely safe around and guarded by him. Despite you kneeling on the bed, he’s still so much taller than you, looming over your frame to the point you have to crane your neck slightly to maintain the eye contact he has initiated. 

“Such a good girl already,” the older man taunts, fumbling with his slacks. “I’m certain you’ll be a natural.”

It’s astonishing how easily he opens the buttons and zipper of his slacks and pushes them down to his knees only using one hand, and when his briefs follow, your teeth sink into his thumb. It’s a knee-jerk reaction, one that only seems to feed into his amusement, but he’s just so big, standing to full attention already with no ministrations on your part, a slight curve and beads of precome glistening at the tip of his cock. He’s both thick and long, and you’re sure your fingers wouldn’t even meet around its girth if you’d wrap it around. 

“This… It’s not going to fit,” you whisper with a muffled voice, staring up at him with doe-like eyes.

“Oh, little mouse, I’ll make it fit.”

At the sight of him taking himself in his hand and spreading the precome over the tip of his cock, thumb teasing the slit, you moan wantonly around his digit, just like before when you’d fucked yourself with your fingers. 

“On your back, and spread these legs for me,” he demands, pulling his thumb from your lips. It makes you pout, and you lick your lips, chasing the feeling of his thumb pressing down on them. 

Following his instructions, you shift your body and lean back until your head meets the plushy pillows, and spread your legs to give him the perfect view of your cunt, folds swollen and glistening with a desperate need.

Daemon has rid himself off his slacks and briefs, so he’s almost naked – safe for the black shirt he wears. Instead of moving, he stays exactly where he is, striking eyes solely fixed on what lays between your legs as if he’s never seen a naked woman before. 

His gaze is almost too much for you to bear, especially with his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and you’re tempted to squeeze your thighs together and pull your tank top back up – the only thing stopping you is the uncertainty on how he’d react if you did so, and you’re not keen on playing with fire right now. 

Time seems to move slower with the way his gaze all but devours you and the anticipation putting your body on fire, yet the moment also brings a sense of hurry with it. It’s evident that Daemon is desperate to be buried inside of you, because he’s not really taking his time to prepare you for him, simply assuming your fingers have done enough for it already. 

The moment he climbs on the bed, making himself at home between your parted legs, it feels as though the breath is knocked out of your lungs. The anticipation is killing you, you long for something you haven’t felt before; the painful stretch of a cock filling you. Of his cock filling you. 

He smiles at you in an irritatingly smug way, definitely knowing how his presence is making you feel. “Just relax,” Daemons rasps, hand clasping around the base of his cock as he drags it through your folds and aligns it with your entrance. “Can you do that for me, darling?”

Sheepishly biting your bottom lip, you nod. The friction causes you to arch your back slightly, pushing your hips toward him impatiently. It’s a difficult task to tear your eyes off of his hard cock, one that you do not manage.

You press your eyes shut to prepare you for the stinging pain as the tip barely prods against your entrance, but it’s his tsking that has you open them again. 

“Nah, eyes on me.”

And just like you’ve done the whole time, you follow his lead, keeping your eyes locked with his as he pushes just the tip inside – ignoring the desire to press them shut to cope with the intrusion. With the way your walls already suck just the tip of him inside, clenching tightly around it, it costs him much more restraint to not force himself into you with one thrust, split you open and pound you into oblivion than he likes to admit. 

Yet he’s kind enough to keep his word and his urges at bay, granting you a little time to adjust to his girth. The stretch is painful indeed, and every ridge and vein of him drags along your fluttering walls as you struggle to take him. He fills you up with a slow push and a strained groan slipping past his lips which drowns out your quiet whimpers.

It feels different than all the times you have used one of your toys on yourself, and your walls all but wail around him, clenching and squeezing around him in an attempt to try to accommodate him. 

“‘Tis too much… It–” you whimper, interrupted when he eventually bottoms out completely, and it feels as though he’s all the way up in your belly. Your hands fly to his shoulders for leverage as he forces you to take his lenght and accept his girth, nails already digging crescent shaped marks into his skin despite the layer of his shirt between you. 

“Ah, there we go,” he groans, and by the way his shoulders tense under your fingers, you know it isn’t easy for him to keep his hips still. 

He’s so deep, you feel the pressure inside of your belly, the tip bullying your sweet spot without him really moving. It feels like he’s splitting you in two, and you know you’ll be feeling him for days – but it’s an ache you welcome.

“You want me to continue? To fuck you?” he asks, a mischievous grin on his lips. 

Having lost your voice for the time your body needs to adjust to him, you all too eagerly nod your head, your eyes never once leaving his. He does not mind you not using your words, clearly sensing what’s going on inside of you at this moment. 

“Then beg me for it, sweetheart.”

Your mouth falls open at that, glossy eyes flickering between his to search them for the jest. “What?”

“You’ve heard that right. Beg for me to fuck you.”

It’s the single rut of his hips that almost pulls his cock out of you completely and sheathes it right back inside that has you whining and begging for him in seconds, the dire need to be claimed by him consuming your mind. 

“Gods, please… please,” you whine. “Please fuck me. I… I need it… need you.”

Just your whiney voice and the tight squeeze of your cunt around him almost have him coming on spot. How could he ever say no to you? Not when you beg so sweetly for him to fuck you, and look at him with these big, innocent eyes. 

“My my, aren’t you a good girl?” he purrs, the praise surging straight to your brain. 

Daemon wastes no more time, and plunges his cock into you, starting slow and careful. You can only assume that it’s the complete opposite of how he’s usually fucking, but you knows you’ll probably get there at some point. If not tonight, certainly sometime over the course of your stay, since you still have a few more months. Or perhaps he’ll even agree to extend your stay after this?

He leans down to prop himself up on one elbow, his broad chest flush against yours. Tonight isn’t about fucking, it’s about forming and bending you to his needs. You wouldn’t accept his advances again if your first time is painful. 

You can’t help yourself but to cry out in pleasure as he shoves his cock into you over and over, hitting all the right spots within you with little effort, your mind going hazy with pleasure. 

With each thrust you approach your orgasm faster and faster, the all familiar coil in your belly threatening to snap at any given moment, and his pelvis and the coarse hairs at the base of his cock rutting against your overstimulated clit with each steady grind don’t really help to delay it either. 

“Sir, please… I’m close,” you whimper, biting your bottom lip.

A satisfied smirk lingers on his lips as he looks at you, eyes dark blown with lust. “Then go on, sweet thing,” he rasps. “Go on and come for me.”

It’s like his words ignited something inside of you that causes you to topple over the edge almost in time with his command, the force of it reducing you to nothing more than a whimpering mess that seems to spur him on even more.

“There she is,” he groans, and cups your cheek with his free hand, squishing your face slightly as he presses it against his chest, clearly using you like a ragdoll while you drown in the comforting scent of his perfume mixed with sweat. But he doesn’t stop his movements, if anything he increases the pace of his hips. Not too much, but just enough for you to notice, and have that uncomfortable feeling of being overstimulated creeping up on you. 

Daemon gets back on his knees and clasps both his hands around your thighs. 

“No…, I can’t,” you whimper, pleading eyes searching his dark ones for mercy, but it doesn’t come. Instead, all you’re receiving is a grunted ‘you can’ as he drapes your legs over his shoulders. The change in angle has another orgasm washing over you almost immediately, your back arching off the mattress. 

A groan escapes his parted lips as your convulsing walls milk him yet again. “Yes, fuck, just… just like that. Such a good girl for me,” he stutters, though it’s obvious he’s talking more to himself than to you. 

His weight disappears from your body not long after the aftershocks rocked you, kneeling upright to pound into you. By now it is more than obvious that he has abandoned his decency and the wish to give you a pleasant first time, his hips working tirelessly to milk every last drop of pleasure out of your body. He fucks you fast and hard, and all you can do is whimper and moan thank you’s and yesses over and over again while he uses your body to get himself off. 

Soon Daemon’s rhythm falters, but he still manages to pull out of you and jerk himself off, tip of his cock pointing towards your stomach as he comes with a loud groan. His throbbing cock spills his seed onto your flushed skin and the top you wear, essentially marking you as his and staking his claim to you.  

While you’re completely blissed out by experiencing two orgasms in such a short time, you can’t stop watching how he comes undone in front of you, coating you in his spend.  

As soon as he’s done, Daemon gets on his feet and puts his briefs and sweats back on, tucking himself back into them. He stands and takes a few seconds to examine his work, especially the blissed out expression on your face and the way his seed covers your torso from your navel all the way up to your breasts. 

He smiles at you, running a hand through his disheveled hair, before he pulls his shirt over his head and throws it into your direction. “There you go. Told you I’d make it fit.” 

He exits your room so fast and leaves the cleaning up to you, you don’t even get the chance to admire his bare chest or him in general. 

But you have no time to think about what has happened as the quiet pings! of your chat make you remember your still running stream. Barely able to pull his shirt over your head before you scurry off the bed, tumbling towards the laptop with trembling legs and a very prominent aching between your legs.

Squinting at the screen, you notice that the number of viewers is as high as never before, just like the amount of tokens they’ve sent you. Your lips curve into a wide grin, and you shut the laptop and fall into your chair, hoping it’s not the first and last time you experience such bliss by the hands of your host.  

[explorevenus]

my soul to keep ♡ vampire!leon kennedy x virgin!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors. dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 6.4k

tags/warnings: romantic vampire leon, virgin/innocent f!reader, leon turns reader into a vampire, some religious allegory, bloodplay (obviously), gravedigging, some gory descriptions but not a whole lot, one instance of overeating (reader's learning, leave her alone </3), manipulation kinda, praise, fingering, p in v, creampie

description: leon creeps into your village at night for a quick drink, only to find himself infatuated with an angel like you. it's a good thing he possesses the means to preserve you for himself.

a/n: yes this is the vampire leon fic i started like a year ago don't look at me <33 i'm just proud of myself for getting it finished before halloween this year AAAAAAAA

divider by @saradika-graphics !!!!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

The last time Leon remembered feeling this alive, well… he was still living, and that was a long time ago. When lonely and undead as long as Leon has been, it can be difficult to show restraint upon first contact with anything that evokes such emotion. 

But he did, for a while. You were just too cute, he thought as he stood over your slumbering body that first night. It wasn’t something he liked to make a habit of, but a light hunting season for him meant starvation through the winter, and he didn’t have much choice but to go wandering into the nearby little village for a quick bite to eat. 

Until he found you. 

You looked like a cherub sleeping there in your plush little bed, buried beneath a quilt he could only assume you made yourself. Precious, fragile. You looked especially fragile. 

And humans are so fragile, he thought. You smelled so sweet, it made his teeth ache just standing there staring at you without acting upon his festering need to sate his appetite, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to scare you, or worse, lose control of himself and kill you. 

He wandered silently around your little cottage in hopes of learning more about you. It was tidy but lived in, well-kept in a way that made him think you were probably a good homemaker. Your old leather boots sat by the door, dirtied by years of garden work and general wear. There was a little handmade ceramic candle holder on your bedside table, the candle in it burned nearly down to the base, and he wondered if maybe you’d held onto it because the piece was sentimental to you. Carefully arranged bouquets of flowers were strung together and hung up above the cracked window, likely to dry them out and preserve them. 

And suddenly he realized that maybe he would like to preserve a flower for himself. 

He couldn’t allow himself to feed from anyone in your village that night. If word spread around about a vicious animal attack or some other form of brutality, it would only hinder his ability to ultimately get to you, and he couldn’t risk that. Weak and delirious and ravenously hungry as he was, Leon forced himself to bid you adieu and stalk off into the night, back to his crumbling old castle in the middle of the woods… but not before leaving you a gift. 

His gift. The gift.

Your lips parted in a dreamy sigh as you slept, rolling over onto your back. He admired your face for a moment before he couldn’t take it anymore— if he didn’t leave now, you were going to become dinner, and he couldn’t have that. Hastily, he bit down on the meat of his palm and squeezed, watching as his old crimson blood bubbled up to the surface, and then he held it up over you.

Drip. Right between your rosy, plush lips. Even in your slumber your face scrunched up at the foreign taste, your heavy arm coming up to swipe at yourself like you were just trying to get your hair out of your eyes.

And just like that, he was gone, having taken his leave through the very same open window that gave him the idea. 

He wasn’t a monster, of course. He kept an eye on you as you experienced the very same pain he felt decades ago. 

The next day, you woke up later than usual feeling quite lousy. Your whole body was sore and weighty and, reasonably enough, you chalked it up to poor form while tending your garden the day before. It was an easy mistake to make from time to time, after all. But as the day dragged on, you only felt worse, so you retired to bed right after supper that evening. 

The day after that, you woke up in the early afternoon feeling awful. Your head was screaming with a migraine and your heart was beating slow and hard in your chest. You were sweating and shaking and could barely even open your eyes because the light hurt so bad. A friend stopped in to check on you after noticing how late of a start to the day you were getting, and almost as soon as she stepped in the door, she was rushing back out to the apothecary, begging the village healer to come check on you. 

The village healer loaded you up with tricks and tinctures and anything she could think of to break your fever or at least ease your pain. Dried herbs and poppyseeds and fungus ground up in the mortar and pestle, the paste slathered under your nose, on the bottoms of your feet, steeped into tea that was too hot for you to drink. None of it worked. At a loss for advice to give, the village healer urged you to drink plenty of water and rest, and to quarantine yourself. Couldn’t risk passing whatever you had to the rest of the community. 

You woke up drenched in sweat in the middle of the night and didn’t even have time to throw your quilt aside as you doubled over the side of your bed and vomited. This continued for a few moments until you could barely breathe, tears dripping from your eyes as your face reddened with strain and you inwardly resented yourself, knowing you would have to drag your sick body out of bed to clean up the mess you’d just made. You struck a match and lit the candle at your bedside and hesitantly peered down to survey the damage, only to be met with the image of your beautiful wooden floors drenched in blood. Reaching up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand yielded the same result. 

As you stared at your own blood in horror, Leon stared at you in adoration from the other side of the window. For a moment your bleary eyes caught on the glass and he wondered if you saw him, but if you did, you didn’t react. 

Even at a distance he could hear your heartbeat continuing to weaken. Soon enough you would be just like him, a beautiful preserved flower, and better yet, you couldn’t be harmed. You wouldn’t change, you wouldn’t grow, you wouldn’t die.

Although your village certainly thought you did. It was a dreary, overcast day when the village healer decided to stop in and check on you, only to find you completely lifeless and splattered with blood where you laid. She had to be the one to break it to your family that you had lost your battle with whatever illness plagued you. Leon watched from the shadows as your father lifted your limp, blood-soaked body from your bed and held you close, sobbing, hesitating to admit to himself that you were gone.

By the end of the afternoon, as the sun went down and the drizzling rain refused to let up, the entire village was standing over your grave, watching you get lowered into the soft, soggy ground. 

Once everyone had paid their respects, Leon watched them all retreat to share a drink in your honor, hushed whispers revealing just how unsettled everyone was by your untimely demise. You were so young, they said, so bright and healthy and undeserving of your fate. They wondered what it meant for themselves, and only Leon knew it didn’t mean anything at all. Your illness wasn’t going to spread because he had what he wanted now, and that was you. 

As soon as the final candle was blown out for the night, Leon took a shovel from your garden and began to dig, the metal piercing easily through the soaked earth until it revealed the handmade box you’d been laid to rest in. He popped the top off and looked at you, your arms still crossed delicately over your chest with a beaded rosary tucked beneath your palms, a pale flower in your hair. Your family didn’t need to know they’d be spending the rest of their lives praying over an empty coffin in the ground. 

Leon scooped you up into his arms, cleaned up after himself and set off into the woods with you clutched to his chest like a princess.

It was a few days before you finally roused. Leon had barely taken his eyes off of you the entire time you slept, and admittedly, he was a bit grateful it had taken you so long, for your own sake. He watched over you and cared for you as the last of your body heat drained out and your fangs descended behind your lips. From what he remembered, that was the most painful part of the transformation, and you were lucky to have slept through the worst of it. 

When your eyes finally shot open, he could barely contain his excitement. In one swift movement you sat up on the couch, bringing one hand up to clutch at your pounding head, the other massaging your sore jaw as your worried eyes darted around the room to drink in your surroundings. Then and only then did your gaze finally land on Leon. 

The fright and confusion on your face were evident. He knew you would have a lot of questions, and he was prepared to answer them. 

“There you are, darling,” he greeted you warmly, the first words he’d ever spoken to you. “How are you feeling?”

"W-Where am I?" You rasped, throat sore and shot from vomiting up blood the other day. Once your new condition fully set in, you would heal, but for now you were still a touch miserable. "Who are you?"

“I’m Leon,” he was gentle in introducing himself, taking your cold, shaking hand in his own so he could brush a polite kiss over your knuckles, “and this is your new home.” 

You blinked slowly at him, brows furrowed as you mulled over what he meant, and you came up short. Tears welled up in your bloodshot eyes and you hesitated for a moment before asking him a question you were afraid to know the answer to; “Am I… Did I die?” 

Leon wasn’t quite sure how to answer that at first. He imagined that question being posed much later in the conversation, so it sort of caught him off guard. He took a breath and then replied gently, “Something like that, yes.” 

“Huh?” 

“Shh, don’t worry,” he whispered, kneeling on the floor beside the couch so he could get on your level, his cold, pale fingers tracing gently over your lifeless skin. “You’re safe, your family is safe, your village is safe. I’m just here to take care of you, my beloved, to guide you in this tricky space between life and death. Do you trust me?” 

Strangely enough, you did-- or, rather, you felt compelled to. 

But that didn’t make the implications of your condition any easier on you. You were such a frightened little lamb, your cheeks hollowing and your eyes glowing like rubies and your skin tone taking on more and more of a pallid quality by the day as you refused to feed. He knew you would have some difficulty with this at first— after all, you were just far too sweet to kill anything— but he also knew you would only become weaker and more agitated if you continued to starve, and perhaps more grim, you would remain stuck in this odd limbo between death and vampirism. 

He tried everything he could think of. You wouldn’t drink animal blood, from the body or in a glass, and you certainly refused human blood in either form too. Every time he broached the topic of sating your hunger you would cower away from him and shake your head, eyes screwed shut as you continued to deny the reality of your situation. Starvation brought forth only misery, that much Leon knew, misery and longing and weakness and worse, everything he didn’t want for you. 

For two weeks you pushed back on the topic, insisting that if you couldn’t truly die, you would rather starve than take the life of another. As much as it pained him to see you this way, Leon appreciated that you could be so stubborn about your morals. He just wished it wouldn’t come at the cost of your own well-being.

He left you at the castle one night to go hunting himself. It wasn’t often he’d stumble into humans in these woods, especially during the winter, but he hoped he would get lucky for himself anyway. Leon burned a few hours stalking through the trees and all he had to show for it when he returned home was a few small animals that wouldn't last him more than two light meals, but it was better than nothing, he thought.

Then he stepped through the creaking castle doors and his nose perked up to the familiar rich scent of human blood-- thick and heady in the air, cloyingly sweet and indulgent. Intoxicated by it for the moment, it didn’t really dawn on him immediately what that meant… until he followed the scent from the foyer to the living room and found you. 

You were on your knees in front of the fireplace, hunched over the writhing body of the village healer, her eyes wide and glassy as she choked out gurgled sounds of agony and clawed weakly at you to let her go. You didn’t even seem to notice Leon as he entered the room, a concerned grimace on his face, though it was accompanied by a tangible sense of relief that you were finally feeding. 

“Sweetheart,” he said lowly, causing you to blink with confusion and look up at him through your lashes, the poor village healer’s carotid still clenched tightly between your teeth. “Easy now, you’ll make yourself sick.” 

Your brows furrowed and you bit down a little bit harder, siphoning out a few final greedy gulps from the woman before dropping her from your grasp, your eyes still trained on Leon as her weak body flopped limply to the floor. His eyes softened with empathy as he looked you over, gore dribbling down your chin and the front of your white dress, your stomach puffy like an engorged tick. Now that you weren’t feeding anymore it would seem you made the same realization he had, the fog of desire clearing in your brain to make room for the shame and discomfort. With a soft whimper, you reached for him with both arms outstretched, but otherwise didn’t move. 

Leon gave you a nod of understanding before scooping you up into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he carried you out of the parlor. “My poor baby,” he sighed softly, “It gets easier, I promise. I’m so proud of you.” 

He ran a hot bath for you and left you to soak for a while as he got to work cleaning up the mess you’d made. The village healer was barely clinging to what remained of her life, and while he was extremely tempted to nurse her back to health and keep her around to continue feeding on, he knew it would hurt you. He could already tell you hated yourself for victimizing her in the first place, the very same woman who’d tried so hard to save your life just weeks ago and who was responsible for ensuring the health of the entire village, which included your friends and family. 

So he mopped up the blood, bottled what he could and wrapped her wounds to the best of his ability before compelling her to forget, dumping her just at the edge of the trees outside the village so someone would find her in the morning.

When he returned again, tired and dirtied from hauling an unconscious woman through the woods on your behalf, you were still relaxing in the tub. The water was tinted pink from all the blood and you still looked a bit swollen in the middle, but the color was returning to your skin and the expression on your face was one of such complete exhaustion that he wasn’t sure if you were actually conscious at first, until your gaze fluttered up to meet his. 

Leon let out a deep, sweet sigh, sitting on the bench beside the porcelain clawfoot bath as he took your hand in his and whispered, “What am I going to do with you, huh?” 

“I-I’m sorry,” you said just as quietly, bottom lip quivering as you continued to drift back down from your blood-induced daze. “I d-didn’t want to h-hurt her…” 

“Shh, shh, I know, darling,” his other hand came forward to pet gently through your wet hair. “She’s going to be alright, I made sure of that. But this can’t happen again, okay? I’ll help you get control of your urges, I promise, but you have to listen to me.” 

You were nodding along as he spoke, clutching his hand and shivering in the hot bath. Even transformed you were still fragile. Leon wanted nothing more than to care for you like the fine china you were.

It was fun watching you learn how to walk, so to speak. You were like a baby deer, taking careful steps and looking back at him for reassurance after each one, like his guidance was all you could think to cling to. While your gingerly approach to things was incredibly endearing, he loved watching you grow to love your new abilities with an innocent sense of excitement that he hadn’t seen in a long time, not in himself or in anyone else, really. 

You’d taken to exploring the rafters and the view of things from the ceiling, leaving the candles in your room unlit all night just so you could bask in how odd and cool it felt to see so well in the dark. It scared the moonlight out of him every time, when he would scour every inch of the castle in search of you just to find you perched criss-cross on the ceiling, lost in a lengthy novel in a pitch black room. 

But he would never scold you, never tell you ‘no.’ In his mind that was a very important lesson for you to learn, one that would open you up to endless possibilities and happiness in an otherwise bleak state of consciousness. 

So, when your small voice chimed in from the parlor ceiling one night and startled him more than he’d like to admit, and you asked him a deceptively simple question– “What now?”-- he knew exactly how he wanted to respond. 

“Indulge,” he said just as simply, sitting calmly down on the chaise lounge to look up at you, hanging from the rafters by your knees. “Let me ask you this. What’s something you’ve always wanted to do?”

You took pause, humming in thought for a moment. All your life you were never much of a forward thinker because you didn't really have to be. You lived your little old life moment by moment, taking extra special care to appreciate the here and now. You had good friends, a loving family, a beautiful community, food on your plate and a warm bed to return home to every night. That didn’t leave you wanting for much.

Finally, you spoke shyly, "I guess I always wanted to fall in love."

It was so quiet, if he was still human, he wouldn’t have heard you. But he wasn’t, and he did. The corner of his lip tugged up into an endeared and somewhat amused expression, baring the sharp edge of his right canine. 

Leon adjusted his posture, sinking back into the couch to gaze up at you, trying to pretend like he wasn’t looking between your legs where your upside-down position left your skirt flipped up nearly to your waist. He cleared his throat softly and cooed, “You poor thing, you’ve never loved before?” 

Your face burned and you avoided his eyes, stretching your arms out toward the floor just to give yourself something to do. “N-No,” you began, smoothing your skirt out over your thighs just to watch it ride up again. With a short huff of breath you pulled yourself back up into a normal sitting position on the rafters, staring up at the ceiling. “I guess I just never had the chance.” 

“What, not enough fish in your little pond?” He teased, quirking an eyebrow at you. 

You laughed, appreciating the way he eased the tension, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. “I mean, yeah, the dating pool made for a better puddle.” 

“I figured as much.” 

A comfortable silence blanketed over the parlor, broken only by the gentle crackling of the fireplace. You swung your feet idly back and forth, watching the warm flame as you asked aloud, “So… What does it feel like, then?” 

“What does what feel like?” He responded, but he knew what you meant. He just wanted to hear you say it. 

“Y’know…” You kicked your frilly socked feet, “Love?” 

“Well, sweetheart, that’s quite a broad question,” Leon began, patting the space next to him in an attempt to beckon you down from the rafters, and to his delight, the gesture succeeded. You dropped gracefully to the ground and fixed your skirt before curling up beside him on the other side of the couch, your legs tucked up beneath you. You couldn’t possibly be more adorable if you tried.

As you situated yourself at his side, he continued, “There are many different kinds of love. You love your family, and you love your friends, but you don’t love your family in the same way you love your friends, and vice versa. Correct?"

He watched your expression for a moment to ensure you were following along, and surely enough, you were. Your posture was relaxed but you remained dutifully at attention, just like a good little doll should.

Leon felt a pang of pride when you nodded.

“It’s the same thing, just a different kind of love. I’m not sure I know how to describe it, really,” he said, tracing his fingertips along your knee casually. “But I could show you?” 

“Show me?” Your head tilted with that innocent curiosity he loved so much about you, and his heart melted all over again. “Show me how?” 

He said something lowly and it took you a second to register it because right after, he took your chin in his hand and drew you in for a kiss. Only after your lips collided did your brain recognize his words as, ‘Like this.’ 

With one hand cradling the back of your head and the other still tracing little shapes on your leg, Leon’s embrace felt all-consuming and overwhelmingly safe. Through it all, you really did trust him. Your fangs knocked together as he pulled you closer to deepen the kiss, making your head spin and your brows furrow in concentration. It felt incredible, unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, but the nerves kept you tense and you couldn’t help but fear you were doing a poor job. 

So you let him lead. You resigned yourself to the feeling of his cold lips on your own and his tongue exploring your waiting mouth, his broad hands keeping you pressed against him and feeling slowly up the length of your thigh. His touch made you shiver and tingle in unfamiliar but exhilarating ways and when he eventually pulled away, you were left panting for breath and wanting for more. 

He watched your face in an attempt to gauge how you were feeling, and it was evident you enjoyed it. Leon felt a rush knowing he had effectively just turned a new leaf in your training. 

You had finally learned to walk. Now it was time for you to sprint. 

Leon brushed your hair away from your shoulder, baring your neck to him. He’d waited so long for this moment, for the chance to sink his teeth into you. He wished he could have tasted you fresh, when you were still living, but he would settle for the alternative, and truthfully, it didn't even feel like settling. Especially not when your syrupy sweet blood hit his tongue and pulled a deep, guttural moan from the core of him, his pearlescent eyes rolling back in a display of momentarily mindless rapture. It was unexpectedly hot to see him react to you in such a way. No one had ever expressed such intense need for you, and you were so hung up on it that you barely noticed your thighs subtly shifting together.

But Leon was observant as ever, of course, the movement in no way making it past his keen attention-- you were too precious, too virginal for your own good. He wanted to ruin you, he wanted to tear you apart piece by piece and savor you like holy communion, to pump your undead heart with his own two hands until the end of time, his beautiful baby, his fragile little doll, his corpse bride, his darling and beloved consort.

You were both gasping for breath as he pulled away from your throat, remnants of your tart cherry blood smudged around his pallid lips. Blessed be the gift of undeath, Leon thought to himself, for it granted him the ability to feed from you without consequence-- and vice versa-- to strengthen your bond in the most intimate way imaginable time and time and time again. It still made you dizzy, of course, light and a bit tingly all over, but Leon didn't see that as a bad thing, and as it stood, you didn't seem to either. 

He was just trying to come up with a smooth way to tempt you into tasting his own blood, but found himself pleasantly surprised by your initiative. 

"Can I try?" You practically purred, your sweet voice all hushed and breathy as your dainty little hand crept up his shoulder, palm coming to rest at the leftmost side of his strong neck. 

As you caressed the pad of your thumb over the icy expanse of his skin, you couldn't help but notice the faint, scarred over marks that were dotted about, barely-there dips and craters telling a story that suggested decades of indulgence like this, decades of past lovers, and your heart inexplicably clenched in your chest. Suddenly you were overtaken with the desire to leave your own mark there, much more prominent and recent than any of those faded old others. 

Leon was quick to give you his consent, of course, and that was all it took for your mind to snap into a completely different mode of function. The highest points of your mouth were flooding with saliva and the lowest points were pooling with it, slicking your puffy lips as your tongue fell forward to drag a deep, wanton lick up the length of his cold carotid. Then, as anticipated, you helped yourself to a healthy bite of him. 

And just like that, you had discovered a new infatuation, as he knew you would. You were bonding yourselves to one another in real time, creating a connection that not even true death could break. 

You nearly went weak with how overwhelming it felt, like drinking down pure heaven, hardly even noticing you were moving for a moment as you crawled mindlessly into his lap to straddle him, grinding deep and slow. The pheromones in his sap made your head spin, bringing about the kind of spontaneous sensuality that you'd only ever felt after one too many glasses of mead, the kind that loosened your bones and tinged at your cheeks, the kind that called warmth to bloom at the pit of your stomach. 

The flavor of him was coppery and rich, but balanced, a bit dull from undeath but otherwise magnificent. That it was faint only made you want for more. 

"Easy, easy," Leon grunted quietly in your ear, reaching a hand up to card through your hair at the back of your head. "Don't drink too fast, little princess... just breathe..."

But it would seem you weren't really listening to him, and that needed to change. Thankfully, Leon knew just the way to grasp your attention. 

Letting one arm slip between your two bodies, he wedged his hand down, down, down, until it dipped beneath your skirt to close his palm over the sticky cotton of your panties. That you were already leaking through the fabric like a busted faucet was perfect. You were an absolutely perfect little untouched virgin, and thanks to him, your body would remain that way forever, ripe for his plucking.

Bringing down some pressure on your clit with the base of his palm, testing your reaction, he reveled in the way you whimpered on his throat and unlatched to finally suck in a breath, rutting to meet his attention without a second thought, so easily captivated by such slight stimulation. He couldn't wait to show you more, but he'd need to work you open first. He didn't want your first time to be painful, after all. 

Leon took you at the waist and moved to put you on your back, hovering above your spread out form on the chaise lounge and pinning you there in the most delicate way possible. Every bit of that attention to detail paid off. 

"My precious doll... my most delicate princess," he sighed reverently, stooping low to breathe you in at the neck again, laving his tongue over the bite he'd left just moments ago. "This is what true love feels like, and I wish to share it with you for eternity..." 

He let you ponder that as he continued, working you carefully out of your clothes, finding it cute how you seemed to shift and arch along with him to help him get you naked, like you just couldn't wait. In your pretty doe eyes, your undead life had just begun. 

It was a bit strange at first, feeling his finger sink into you, but it wasn't long before Leon was seeking out your soft spots and doing an excellent job of it, no less. He curled and pumped one finger carefully in you until he was sure you were comfortable, until he felt any remaining tension in your muscles melt away, and then he introduced a second. You were so wet and so absorbed by the feeling of it all that you almost didn't notice at first, but that delicious stretch was impossible to miss. 

"O-Oh," you quivered, head falling back against the plush velvet beneath you as you bucked into his hand. 

With an appreciative hum, Leon allowed himself to become a little less careful with his ministrations, watching your reactions with interest as he worked you open on his fingers, his infatuation with you growing more and more with every moan and whine, every flutter of your silky walls. 

"There you go, little one," he cooed, "you like that, don't you?"

Your response was barely more than an airy nod, but it delighted him anyway. How could it not? You were just too sweet for words, too cute to handle. You could've done or said anything in that moment and he would have adored it all the same. 

Nipping playfully at your throat, fingers still pumping dutifully in and out of your drippy cunt, his lips trailed up to your ear so he could ask in a sultry whisper, "Think you can take more?"

The next several seconds were a blur of impassioned movement, each of you weaving around one another to shed the elder vampire of his own ensemble, revealing his carved marble frame piece-by-piece. You were amazed by the strength in his shoulders, how smooth and soft his skin was from being kept away from the sun for so long, the dark blonde trail of hair that disappeared below his belt, only for its path to be revealed upon the long-awaited removal of his trousers. 

Leon's cock was painfully hard, tip flushed red and weeping with milky beads of precum as he freed himself from his confines at last. He felt the intense need to give it a few strokes with how pent up he was at this point, but he didn't see a point in wasting any time pleasuring himself when you were right there, skirt hiked up to your waist while you laid there panting and leaking your arousal all over his nice furniture. With a pout that pretty, it would be a disservice not to fuck you until you cried. 

He angled your hips with one hand and lined himself up with the other, pushing in slowly. Your expression screwed tight for a short moment as the swollen head of him caught at your hole, an opportune moment of distraction for him to sink in deeper, stretching you out until he hit the root, drawing a shocked cry from your throat that gave way to a pleasured whine just as quickly as it came. 

So he began to move, wanting to draw out that gorgeous sound for as long as you would allow him to hear it. Your cunt was so fucking tight, pulsing and squeezing around his shaft like you were made for it, made for him, delivered to him by fate so that he might just get to fuck you like this forever and ever, and in that moment, he knew he made the right choice in sharing his gift with you. For the first time in recent memory, the future felt bright. 

"L... L-Leon..." You babbled, hooking one leg over his hip for purchase just to find out it allowed him to prod that much deeper. You went boneless at the feeling, finding strength only in your ability to claw at his shoulders for dear life, the faint scent of his blood lingering in the air and making your head spin. "Feels... g-good... so good... don't stop..." 

He wouldn't dream of it. 

Fingertips printing into your thighs, he pulled your legs up to rest over his shoulders instead, driving you down into the soft couch in a firm mating press. You were nose to nose, needy lips catching and fangs clacking between filthy words and gasps for breath as you felt his presence envelope you fully. Leon was in you, on you, around you...

Leon was your home now. Leon was where you laid to rest. 

For the first time in your undead life, you felt your body licking with heat, temperature rising steadily at the pit of you and threatening to hit a fever pitch. Every inch of him lit you up from the inside. 

"Oh, my baby," he groaned, letting go of you with one hand just to swipe his silvery blonde hair away from his face so he could gaze at you like a work of art. "You're getting close, aren't you? Squeezing me so tight like that..."

"Yeah," you whined, even though you weren't fully sure what it even felt like to be close. You weren't dumb, you knew what orgasms were, you'd just never had one yourself, and as such, you had no basis for comparison. 

Leon aimed to fix that, to make damn sure you familiarized yourself with the feeling over the course of your shared eternity. 

His thrusts picked up with renewed vigor, the legs of the old chaise lounge scratching against the hardwood floors with every push forward, and he didn't even care. Everything else about life felt so worthless in comparison to you, the new center of his universe. The whole entire house could collapse and he would still be content, so long as he had you. 

And every time he remembered that he did have you, that you were here with him right now, squirming and rutting on his cock so beautifully, that he was all you had... it just drove him that much crazier, made him that much more determined to make your first time one you would never forget. He couldn't be happier to spend the entire rest of his endless life topping the last performance. 

You were losing your grip, struggling to keep your eyes open and eventually sinking your itching fangs into what you could reach of his throat just to push yourself a little higher, a little closer. The flavor alone made you purr against his skin, jaw clenching tighter, and the delicious sting of it was pushing him forward too. Now his biggest concern wasn't just making sure you came, but making sure that you came first. 

So he withheld, even as his balls drew up tight and ached to release, focusing instead on getting you there. 

"Don't be shy, princess, I've got you," Leon moaned into your ear, "let it happen... just let it happen..." 

Tears pricked at your eyes, the overabundance of stimulation rendering you down into a tearful little puddle, but it wasn't until he spoke up to encourage you that you realized you really were holding back, stalling yourself at the precipice like it was wrong to let go.

But it wasn't wrong. It was divine. It was indulgent.

Sucking back a mouthful of his blood, you unlatched from Leon's neck just to press your forehead against his own, your jaw stuck open in stilted whines and gasps for breath as that molten heat in your belly finally boiled over, and you discovered exactly what it was you were close to. 

Your spine drew up into an arch, toes curling over his shoulders as you came on his length with a cry, thighs trembling with strain. Leon had never been baptized before, but it felt like he was just now. He'd never felt so close to God as he allowed himself to finish deep inside your perfect pussy. 

You collapsed together in the afterglow, the parlor going quiet again as you both caught your breath and your bearings, a heaping pile of mess on velvet.

"Leon," you whispered, kissing some of the excess blood away from his cold skin as you innocently and earnestly admitted, "I... I think I love you." 

He cracked a fond smile at this, if only because he knew you would catch up in time. After all, you still had much to learn, and he didn't want to overwhelm you more than he already had for one evening. 

"I love you too, little one."

[megwritesriddles]

In the Back of Your Mind ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Young! Severus Snape x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 4 - Stalking. Severus is in love with you from afar. Severus is also very good at legilimency. You show a tiny bit of interest by helping him out in class and he loses a little more of his self-control.

Tags: Stalking, P in V, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (f receiving, a LOT of it), Very dubious consent, Mind manipulation / control, Brainwashing, Improper use of legilimency, Toxic relationships, Yandere Snape, Creepy perverted behaviour, Fantasising, Implied loss of virginity, Self-blaming.

READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!

Word count: 3.7k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Severus in this fic is written to be a walking red flag, don't seek this kind of relationship irl!! I started to get a headache toward the end of writing this, sorry if it's noticeable in the writing!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Splat, Severus’ books thud to the ground. A cacophony of laughs erupts behind him, led by James Potter, a satisfied smirk on his face from having caused this mild inconvenience. Severus huffs and rolls his eyes, luckily hidden by his mop of long black hair. He bends down to pick up the books, not at all surprised when James nudges one further away with the toe of his shoe. He shuffles forward and picks it up too, straightening himself back up, head hung low. He shuffles across the hall to lean against a wall further from the marauders, who hoot and laugh at him. Even putting himself in their shoes he can’t understand what’s so funny about watching someone pick up books. None of it matters anyway, because you’ll be here soon. Perfect you. You always arrive at this class at 12:56, with your friend by your side. You’d usually be chatting, finishing off a pastry from lunch, whatever had taken your fancy that day, Severus guessed it would be the Pumpkin pasties today. He watches the clock above the door into the potion's dungeon, feeling a familiar tingle of excitement. Just as he knew you would, almost exactly as the clock struck 12:56, your voice drifted around the corner down the corridor. He watches behind his hair as you come into view, chatting happily with your friend, carefully holding a hand in front of your mouth as you chew. He imagines you spotting him, smiling and making your way over, giggling and offering him a bite of your pastry. He’d go to bite it and you’d withdraw it playfully, just to tease him, you’d laugh that bright laugh you have and he’d give you a chastising look before stealing a kiss from you, making you smile wider. You’d wrap your arms around his neck, pushing closer so that–

He’s yanked from his thoughts by Slughorn opening the doors to the lab, the heavy wood scraping unpleasantly against the stone floor. Everyone starts to head inside, he keeps his head down as he enters, hanging back at his usual spot at the back of the room, the spot with a perfect view of you. He places his books down, watching as you quickly scoff the last of your pastry, a pumpkin pasty as he’d guessed before the lesson started. Throughout the lesson he’s watching you, barely concentrating on the topic at hand, he doesn't need to, he already read up on it in his own time so that he can watch you. He’s lucky, in a way, that he only has you for potions, no matter how much he wishes you always there, always by him, always in view, else he may never learn anything at all. You lean forward on the desk, your chin in your palms, legs swinging under the desk. He can vaguely make out the outline of your bra through the back of your uniform shirt, it’s black, clasped on the final row. He almost jots this down on his parchment before he catches himself. He imagines that if he told you this, you’d laugh and call him something childish and endearing, like a ‘silly sausage’, flicking his nose gently. He’s lost in this fantasy, this world where he can tell you that he’s watching you and you find it sweet, going through the motions of setting up his workstation for brewing. He doesn’t even realise that Slughorn is calling out to him until your head turns towards him, looking curious. He notices with a start that the entire class is looking at him, the marauders laughing tauntingly among themselves.

“Er… what?” he croaks out, his voice a little rough from barely speaking all day. He hears a few more chuckles, but not from you. Kind, perfect you. You just glance between him and Slughorn without a hint of judgement in your eyes.

“Your hair is getting rather too long, boy, you’ll have to tie it up for this potion, it’s very volatile,” Slughorn chortles from the front of the room. “Do any of the ladies have a spare?” He addresses the room. The marauders and a couple of the other boys explode with laughter, several of the girls immediately shake their heads, or do nothing, except beautiful, perfect you. You’re picking up your bag and digging through it without a second's hesitation and he could kiss you right now, not that there was any time he felt like he couldn’t. Your friend, obviously shamed into action by you, flicks half-heartedly through her bag too. The rest of the class returns to setting up.

“A-ha!” you exclaim, pulling out a plain black hairband from your bag. Black like your bra, his brain supplies, but he shakes that off because you’re walking over to him. He’s immediately sweating, luckily you’re unlikely to notice through his robes, although you may notice the growing sheen on his forehead. You stand in front of him, smiling like an angel. He’s not this close to you often, somehow you’re even more ethereal up close. He takes a shaky breath as you extend the hairband to him. "Don't listen to them, Black is only about an inch away from needing one himself,"

“Th-Thank you…” He mumbles, brushing your fingertips with his own on purpose. It feels like a thousand fireworks exploding under his skin and he smiles shakily. You smile and shrug.

“Just get it back to me when you can, or keep it honestly, I have hundreds and you’ll probably need it again,” you explain happily. You always seem to have nothing bringing you down and he admires it, wishing he could be so positive, perhaps it’s easy when you’re as flawless as you are. You skip off back to your workstation to your friend. He has something in his hand that is yours, something he’s allowed to keep, something he didn’t have to snatch when you left the room. There’s a couple of your hairs stuck around it and he shivers in excitement. This is something you have used, and he has it through legitimate means. He’s floating on air. While everyone else is beginning to brew, he hides behind his cauldron carefully laying down your hairs in his notebook, making sure not to break them, securing them so they don’t fall out.

Eventually, once he’s sure he can’t extract any more of yours from the hairband, he finally ties his hair back into a low ponytail, getting to work. He’s confident he can catch up on the brewing time he missed, even as he keeps being distracted by the sight of you across the room, your hair pulled up out of your face in the same type of hairband you gave him. You’re gorgeous, somehow more than usual, which shouldn’t be possible or, frankly, legal. He’s often wondered if you’re part Veela somewhere far back, because of how absolutely perfect you are. Through extensive research of your family tree, he was able to prove himself wrong, but he still wonders. His potion expertise allows him to catch up on the potion, still being awarded the best potion in class by the end of it. He almost feels bad for everyone who actually put some effort into brewing just to lose to him again, but that feeling melts away when he spots you grinning at him as Slughorn announces his win. The two of you have never been friends, but you have always been silently friendly toward him, refusing to be swayed by the rumours about him. It’s perhaps what he loves the absolute most about you. He’s packing up when you approach him again, smiling softly.

“I actually like your hair up like this,” you whisper, reaching over to gently flick the end of his short ponytail. Severus doesn’t know if you’re teasing him or not. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, both by your words and your playful touch. A hundred images of fantasies he’s had about you over the years flash through his mind. You’ve touched him! Willingly! In that playful way, he’d always imagined you would. It takes a lot of effort to remind himself that he can’t just kiss you right now. His mouth falls open and he lets out an undignified throaty noise. He quickly covers it up with a cough, blinking rapidly.

“I um… you… do?” he chokes out. You study his face for a moment, he’s sure you’re about to change your mind. You could never be so cruel though, he knows this, you’re too wonderful.

“Yeah… it’s nice to see your eyes sometimes,” you tease. Severus forces himself to laugh back casually, trying to force down the love hearts that are practically forming in his eyes. He also has to stop himself from grabbing you, never letting you move away again. He regrets holding himself back when your friend comes up behind you and ushers you away to your next class. You smile at him over your shoulder as you begin to leave. He quickly decides to use the compliments you’ve just given him against you. He wonders how much you really meant to them, but he has to try anyway. He invades your mind, silently smug about your lack of defences even after all this time. He feeds you a vision based on what you’ve just said. His head between your perfect supple thighs, looking up at you with wide needy eyes, his hair pulled back just like this, devouring your sweet cunt. He knows he’s been successful as he watches you suddenly flush and turn away, your cheeks bright red.

He doesn’t really know how you feel about these visions. He’s been invading your mind and planting them since the end of the fifth year. He would love to stick around in your brain, find out how you react to them, do some digging, and find out how you really feel about him, but he can’t risk it. The longer you’re in somebody's mind, the more they can feel the foreign presence. You’re still yet to put up any wards, even rudimentary ones, so he assumes you don’t realise you’re being invaded. You also haven’t started to avoid him more than normal, if you realised these visions were coming from someone else, there would only be one logical conclusion as to who they came from, but you haven’t withdrawn or confronted him in any way, so he figures he’s safe for now. The nature of the visions he gives you is probably enough to distract you from the momentary uncomfortable tingle of someone else being in your brain. He’s been experimenting for a long while to see what thoughts you react to the best. He often sits in the dining hall, somewhere where he has the perfect view of you, and plants various thoughts. You don’t seem to school your emotions very well, so he gets a vague idea of how you react to each scenario. He’s tried visions of him bending you over, roughly taking everything he wants from you, he’s tried visions of him begging on his knees to please you and everything in between. You blush beautifully at each one, whether from embarrassment or arousal, he isn’t sure. He can’t wait to feel your cheek heat up under his hand, because he will get to feel it, some day. You don’t seem to like the more extreme scenarios, complete domination or complete submission, but you don’t seem to mind either way if the power dynamic is a little milder. He doesn’t mind, he would be anything for you, do anything. What you seem to like best is when he feeds you a vision of him eating you out. He supposes it makes sense, it’s completely focused on your pleasure, so it’s practically all he’s been giving you lately. Sometimes he holds you down and calls you a good girl, sometimes you’re riding his face and calling him a good boy, you seem to like it either way. It makes him unbelievably smug.

After dinner, he’s trailing you and your friends to your common room, just to make sure that you’re safe, nothing more. He’s a little careless, feeding you the same vision over and over, enjoying watching you blush and stutter from afar as you try to chat with your friends. You probably think you’ve been hit with a lust potion or something, as he isn’t letting you think of anything else. It seems you hadn’t lied when you’d told him you liked his hair in the ponytail, as every time he gave you the same vision from earlier, he noticed your thighs tense. This isn’t a reaction he gets from you often at all, usually, it’s so subtle that he can be convinced it was unrelated, but this vision, in particular, seems to have you doing this every time. He’d dropped his fork at dinner just to duck under the table to watch your thighs clench, the sight nearly making his mouth water. He wished he could get under your table and spread your legs, make that vision a reality, but sadly he could not. He would do it in a heartbeat if you asked, fuck the consequences, fuck who could see. Maybe one day, if he kept torturing you with this vision, you would come begging. He feels his cock twitching eagerly in his trousers at the thought. You disappear into your common with your friends, him watching from around the corner. He sighs in disappointment, deciding to leave you be for the night since he can’t delight in your lovely little reactions any more. He hangs around at the corner for a moment, debating whether to head outside onto the grounds to watch you through your dorm window like he often did. The mini telescope he had to buy for Astronomy had turned out to be a fantastic use of money, even if he did often see your roommates instead. He had seen them all in various states of undress by now, but he couldn’t care about any of them in the least, he only had eyes for you.

Over the next few days, he eases off a little, realising how reckless he’d been. He couldn’t risk you knowing what he’s been doing, he can’t imagine that would end very well, even if you had seemed to grow to like the visions he gave you. He didn’t stop altogether, because that would have arguably been just as suspicious. He keeps it tame, one or two a day, maybe a little more innocent than normal. He can’t help but continue to use the information about you liking his hair back, making sure every fantasy he feeds you has him that way. He keeps your hairband, pulling his hair back every day now, because it makes you look at him just a second longer, and he’s obsessed with it. Lucius comments on it, saying it looks odd, but he couldn’t care less. It makes secretly watching you harder too, as he can’t hide behind his hair so much, but he makes do, all for those extra glances. He continues his routines, waiting for you to emerge in the mornings from your common room by hiding around the corner, watching you at every mealtime, trailing you back to the common room in the evening and then watching you through your window whenever he feels the need.

One night, once he’s happy you’re safely back in your common room, he turns to leave but trips slightly over his feet. He glances down, realising with an exasperated huff that the laces on his oxfords have come undone. He crouches down to tie them, setting his other knee on the ground. He fumbles with them unnecessarily, frustrated with himself. He vaguely registers footsteps approaching him, but not enough to react before he hears a voice.

“Oh… Severus, what are you doing here?” your soft angelic voice echoes slightly in the empty corridor. You seem confused, and, arguably, you have reason to be. The only thing down this corridor is your common room, and he has no excuse to be here. He swallows, staring straight down at the ground, his mind working a mile a minute.

“Here to return the hairband,” he grunts, thinking fast. It’s the only excuse he has, even if you had told him to keep it. He looks up at you from his crouched position, you’re a lot closer to him than he thought. He realises how similar this position is to some of the ones he’s forced into your brain. He’s pleased to notice, from the flush on your face, that you make this connection too, without it being planted. He shifts slightly, lowering both his knees to the ground and facing you properly. He looks up at you, his eyes burning with barely contained arousal. You’re flushed and shy as you look down at him and he dares to invade your mind to see what you’re thinking. He can’t fight the twitch of his lips as he creeps into your mind, only to find you’re imagining him, just as he is now, pushing up your skirt and burying his face between your legs. He shivers, you’re thinking of this all on your own. There’s a nag at the back of his mind, telling him you don’t quite seem to want to be thinking this, but he ignores it, reaching up for your thighs. You yelp in surprise as his cold, long fingers press into the warm skin of your thighs and he pulls you forward.

“Wha- what are you doing?” you squeak, stumbling helplessly toward him. He doesn’t answer, he feels possessed, and he’s already salivating. He brushes his nose against the skin of your thigh, just under the hem of your skirt, making you gasp. You smell divine, a vague hint of your perfume, presumably stuck to the fabric of your skirt, a hint of something that he realises, with a growl, must be your arousal. You try to step away, but he grips you harder, keeping you in place. He knows you want him, even if you don’t seem to know it yourself. You whimper as he licks a stripe up your thigh, the taste is faintly salty and he groans in pleasure. He hears the old castle creak slightly, reminding him that the two of you are out in the open. He withdraws slightly. You look utterly dazed above him like you don’t understand what’s going on. You realise that he’s walking you to a cleaning cupboard nearby, and your legs just blindly follow him. You want to protest, but can’t seem to find it in you. You had been fantasising about this for years now, even if the reason for these fantasies never seemed to make sense. He brings you in, shutting the door behind you. He’s kneeling again in an instant, he almost looks crazed as he bunches up your skirt. He doesn’t even give you time to acclimate before his tongue is on you through the material of your underwear. You gasp out loudly as he tastes the small wet spot of fabric, when did you even get wet? He takes a long deep sniff, his nose nudging at your clit through the fabric. He licks at you desperately until the material is soaked through, both with his saliva and your arousal. You were shocked by just how intensely your body was reacting to all this. You let him slide down your underwear, figuring there’s no point stopping him now. You lean back against the wall as he buries his head between your legs, shaking his head slightly to get even closer, the movement making you moan softly. He’s undeniably eager, lapping and slurping at you, but it’s fairly clear he’s never done this before. This is all he’s ever wanted, and he’s determined to make the most of it, the scent and taste of you making him feel insane. He rubs you all over his face, wriggling his tongue against you, gripping the flesh of your buttocks to keep you in place. He’s mumbling against you, about how long he’s been picturing this, but you can’t quite hear him, which is probably for the best. He makes up for his lack of experience with his enthusiasm, the way he’s looking up at you like he’s desperate to please. You find yourself falling apart all over his face shockingly fast, biting your lip to stifle your whines.

“Thank you, thank you,” he mumbles over and over as he laps you all up. He pulls away and you go a little limp, sliding slightly down the wall as he stands. You barely register what’s happening as he turns you around pressing you up against the wall, your eyes widen as he pushes inside you, but by now you’re well past the point of no return, so you simply brace yourself against the wall. He humps you like a dog in heat, sloppy and fast, you’re glad he made you orgasm earlier because you don’t get the feeling you will be cumming from this. Not that it feels bad, in fact, it feels quite good, making you moan as he bullies against you. He grips your waist tight with his slender fingers. “This is perfect, everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” he whimpers in your ear. “Now that I’ve had a taste of you, I’m never letting you go, you’re mine now,” you know what he’s saying is worrying, but your fucked out mind can’t quite realise the true danger of what he’s saying and what your lack of protesting is solidifying in his mind. “All mine,” he growls, his hips stuttering violently. He buries himself as deep as he can. “Fo-forever,” he groans shakily as he spills deep inside of you. He holds you there for a long time, your body limp in his arms as he pants against the back of your neck. You feel lightheaded, you can’t believe everything that’s just happened to you. He kisses your cheek, over and over, as if it's some sort of compulsion. “Mine, mine, mine,” he mumbles repeatedly, the reality of everything starting to sink in for you. Maybe you should have believed the rumours about his mental instability, maybe you should have kicked him away when he first grabbed your thighs, perhaps you should be telling him right now that you’re not his, but instead, a string of words come out of your mouth, feeling like they’re only half your own.

“Can you eat me out again?”

And he happily complies, sliding back down onto his knees.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Write some baby Reid stuff?!

༉‧₊˚. 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: college!spencer reid x plus size popular girl!reader

— summary: who knew that seven minutes in heaven could lead to spencer losing his virginity to the girl he thought was completely out of his league?

— warnings: reader teaching spencer how to please her, light breast play, heavy consent reassurance (bc reader wants to make sure his first time is memorable), praise, sub!spencer reid, dom!reader, praise kink, heavy use of nicknames, petting if you squint, stripping, riding, unprotected sex, creampie, lack of foreplay, vaginal sex, teasing, a sprinkle of comedy in there cause i couldn't help myself, loser boyfriend!spencer plain and simple.

— wc: 1472

⋆ a/n: HIYAAAA this is the much demanded part two of my dry humping kinktober fic, but you don't have to read it to understand this one (but it would be preferred!!). i'm also writing this because I have something planned for this year's kinktober and i'm trying to set us up for greatness here sooo!! we'll definitely be seeing this couple again ;]

masterlist || AO3

Oh God, Spencer was shaking. He was about to lose his virginity to the girl of his dreams, and he was fucking shaking.

You had to cut the man some slack, because throughout his college career, all he had been worrying about was working toward his first PHD, and his mother, who he had left back in Las Vegas.

As soon as he had entered your empty dorm room, your hands were on him. You tugged lightly on the roots of his hair, attempting to coax him into doing something, because right now, he was as still as a statue and yet trembling at the same time.

“Spencer…” You separated your lips with his and he immediately frowned. “Yeah - yes, yes? Are you okay?” Oh God, you were going to tell him you didn’t want to have sex with him anymore, that everything leading up until now was a mistake and -

“I should be the one asking you that.”

“What?” He asked nervously with furrowed brows.

“Well to start, you're shaking like you're cold and you aren't kissing me back.” He started to pick at his cuticles again. “I- I-” Stop stuttering, damnit!

“What?” You teased with a small smile, “Can you only get hard in public? Is it a kinky thing?”

“What?! No, no!” Spencer sputtered incredulously. His eyes were wide and frantic to the point where he stopped picking at his nails. That wasn't what this was at all! How could you think - oh. Oh. You were being sarcastic.

“I'm just kidding, Spence.” You took your hands off his body and he almost chased their warmth. “We don't have to do anything you don't want to; we can just watch a movie or something. My roommate isn't going to be back for who knows how long.”

“No - I… I want to. I'm just… nervous. I’m -” He gulped. “I'm a virgin.” His confession was muttered and meek but you heard him. The man looked up at you through his long eyelashes, his brown irises boring into your soul in wait for your reaction.

You bit the inside of your cheek and examined him for a moment. “How about this,” You grab him by his hand. “I’ll show you what to do and we'll rectify that tonight if things go well.”

You took a step toward him and his back but the door with a quiet thud. “And I'm sure you're a quick learner, aren't you Reid?”

“Very! I'm a very quick learner!”

“That's what I like to hear.”

You led him over to your twin sized bed and stood by it. You had no idea how the both of you were going to fit on it, but you were really just flying by the seat of your pants right now.

“Take off my dress.” You command softly. “O- okay.” His quivering hands grab at the hem of your dress and tug it up, all the while he was watching your face.

Spencer sucks in a breath at the sight of your bare chest and panty clad lower half. He was throbbing where he stood, and he almost died of embarrassment.

“Touch me, baby.” You encouraged him lightly by grabbing his lithe and shaky hands and placing them on your heavy breasts. He all but gasped at the feeling, but he quickly covered it up by clearing his throat.

He pinched your nipples gently and it caused you to moan quietly.

“Is this okay?” Spencer asked with a swallow. Your hands left his own and your fingers dug into his biceps, your lips rolled in between your teeth to hold back your sounds. “More than okay.” You breathed.

It goes on like that for a moment and the need that was pooling in your gut was nauseating, and your blood was rushing to every part of your body.

“Spencer…” You sighed. “Take your clothes off.”

His eyes widen in disbelief, his hands all but snatching them off your breasts and to the buckle on his khaki pants. His fingers are uncoordinated and nervous but he manages to get it out the loop while you work on pulling your thong down your legs.

You can tell he’s trying not to stare at your newly nude bottom half, and you approach him and drag your fingertips across the band of his underwear. “Can I take this off, pretty boy?” You ask just in case. He nods dumbly. “Yes, yes please.”

He decides to take off his shirt while you rid him of his boxers. “You’re so pretty, Spencer.” You coo and look up at him through your eyelashes. His cheeks flush a deep red, just like they did in the circle. “T - thank you! You are as well and… and you’re pretty all the time too!” You just chuckle. “Thank you, baby.”

“Get on the bed.” You command, and he scrambles to follow your words. You’d work on teaching him foreplay later, because right now you need him inside you, badly.

“I figured this was better than trying to have both of us laying down on this tiny ass bed.” You joke and straddle him.

Spencer’s hands are raised, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. You take them wordlessly, placing them on your naked flesh. He can’t help but squeeze the meat of your hips, the fat of them spilling out from between his nimble fingers.

“We’re gonna take this slow, okay? Because I don’t want to overwhelm you.” You placed a hand on his cheek and grabbed his cock. He yelped, his hips shooting up at the simulation. “Easy boy, easy.” You coax.

He attempts to steady himself, teeth biting down on his bottom lip in order to try and keep his composure when the tip of his cock brushes against your entrance.

“Ready?” You ask. He nods like a maniac. “Mhm!”

Then you sink down.

Spencer sounds like he’s getting his soul stolen with the way that he moans out loud. It’s a mix between a scream and a whimper really, and his eyes practically roll back into his head. His grip on you tightens, holding onto you like a lifeline, and you honestly think that his fingers are going to bruise, but you don’t tell him.

Your legs are shaking and your stomach is tight and you’re smiling deliriously like a mad woman. He feels so good and he’s filling you up so well. It reminds you of how people say the skinniest guys are always hung.

Spencer’s fully sheathed inside of you and he’s trembling, uncontrollable whimpers and whines spilling from between his lips.

“You’re so warm please…” He begs, his hips jumping up once more. You yourself yelp in surprise and he’s instantly apologizing. “‘M sorry, ‘m sorry, I just - just need more, please…”

“I got you sweetheart, just hang on.” You lift up until his tip catches your rim before sinking down again. He chokes on his own spit.

You manage to find a rhythm and Spencer desperately follows you, trying to offer you some pleasure as well. You know he is bye the way he’s constantly searching your face for any kind of disappointment.

“Do you not -” He huffs. “Does it not feel good?” It brings out a sad mewl. “It feels great, baby, I promise; but we can worry about me later. Tonight is about you, okay?” You force him to look at you and accept his words. “Okay.”

Your legs are getting tired but you’re determined to make him cum and by the look on his face and the scrunching of his eyebrows, he’s close.

“You close?” You huff out, sliding up and down at an overwhelming pace, even for you. “I - yes! Where should I…” Cum. Where should he cum is what he wanted to ask but he’s too embarrassed to. “Inside me.” You say with a smirk.

Spencer really wants to question it, but all thought is thrown out the window when he feels his stomach tighten and his legs lock.

“I - I’m -” But it’s too late by the time he tries to tell you, because he lets out a long whorish moan, and his back arches off the wall.

You grin down at him as he paints your inner walls white, your hands that were gripping his shoulders rubbing at the skin of his neck and down his upper arms. A shiver shoots up your spine but you welcome it nonetheless.

You soothe him back down to earth through his aftershocks and tiny whimpers. You feel him go soft inside of you but you don’t try to get off just in case he still needs you there comfort wise.

“Holy shit,” You laugh. “Are you okay?” You ask in disbelief.

“I feel wonderful.” The undertone of his murmur is giggly and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[yandere-sins]

How'd you think Yandere luci and Yandere Mammon would deal with a S/O who's hiding the fact they're a virgin and is always trying to avoid intercourse by excuses like pretending to be asleep etc because they don't want to lose their virginity to them? (ALSO BTW, I LOVE YOUR WORK. like your work is super amazing and detailed <3 best yan writer)

Thank you for reading my writing!! I am so glad you enjoy it ^-^

And thank you for requesting! ♥

Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Lucifer

♡ As if he doesn't know. You might be able to fool another human, and maybe someone as dense as Mammon, but you can't fool Lucifer. He had already noticed you shying away from his touch, the goosebumps and sudden tension that would go through you every time he touched you (rather innocently even). It's like you expected something to happen and are unsure how to react. Maybe you don't want it, perhaps you do, but your signals aren't very clear, and that makes him suspect you.

♡ He could blame it on some form of trauma that he doesn't know about, but he'd expect your reactions to be a bit more violent or fueled by rejection if that was the case. Instead, they are bashful and tense, with a taste of sweetness and innocence that Lucifer quite likes. And he caught Asmo giving you a knowing look once while you seemed even more hesitant to approach the 5th oldest brother; you made it much too easy for Lucifer to figure out what kind of game you were playing.

♡ So, he'll play along for a while since it's now in his control. You might not be a well-aged drop of lust yet, but delaying the inevitable is going to do you both well. Riling you up, getting you to let down your guard, and leaving you hot and bothered will benefit Lucifer greatly. Seeing your walls crumble will be enough to satisfy him for a while, so he won't have to put his hands on you prematurely. You may simmer on the knowledge that he'll take your virginity at some point, be sensitive, and get confused at times over his actions. Maybe even fantasize what it'll be like. Will he be rough? Gentle? Ease you into it or brutal steal your innocence like he did with your freedom? Letting your thoughts and desires run wild, no matter how much you want to deny them, will almost guarantee that once you are ready, you'll be at a point where you'll crawl to him, begging for release. And Lucifer likes that idea very much.

♡ Things he'll do to chip away at your defense include but aren't limited to spooning up against you at night, his cock perfectly pressed against your body but not grinding against you. Just letting you know it's there and ready for you and allowing you to get used to it but never letting you scoot away. The same is true with his hand placement at night, his palm at your lower abdomen, just resting there, and his fingertips slipping beneath your clothes to leave feathery trails of allurement. So close yet far enough away, teasing, playful, promising. The warmth it emits seeping into your body, heating you up, only for him to retract and leaving you hanging. Sometimes, his fingers will play with your clothes, letting you know just how agile they are. Your mind will do the rest as you can imagine the chaos and pleasure they can leave in their wake. He wears human pheromones suited to your taste, and he'll flirt with you, complimenting you even when you feel vulnerable, letting you know how receptive he is to taking the next step. It's only a matter of time until you cave, but Lucifer will do everything to make it the hardest few days of your life.

Mammon

♡ Mammon is indeed a little dense. He might feel a bit off-put if you reject his advances repeatedly, but he doesn't see anything wrong with it the first few times. There is absolutely no subtlety in his advances, his kisses bordering on orgasm-territory already when he's in the mood, his hands greedy as is fitting for his title. You might be forced into these affections, but even you can't help but squirm beneath him. It only gives him more incentive to take it up a notch when he's just so passionate, your lips constantly bruised, and your neck marked by his teeth.

♡ So it becomes very frustrating and confusing for him when you kick and scream the moment he gets a bit more intimate. He'd like to respect your choice despite him not giving you one when it comes to whether or not you'll be with him for the rest of your life. Mammon likes to think he's gracious like that. But he thought you two were on the right path to taking the next step, yet you keep rejecting him. To be fair, he's been very clear that he wants you for a long time: Grinding against you, fondling your body even though he should be concentrating on other things. You've caught him jerking off next to you, moaning your name quite a few times even though you pretended to be asleep. And if that isn't clear enough, he's been nagging and sometimes even begging on his knees for you to give him some of that sweet body of yours to fuck. You've rejected him all the same, so for Mammon, it hints at something being seriously wrong, but he can't quite figure it out himself.

♡ It takes some... advice from more experienced individuals for him to come to a conclusion. Levi thinks perhaps he smells bad, Satan questions why anyone would want to be with Mammon in the first place, and Beel asks if maybe you're too hungry for any of that stuff and if Mammon fed you properly. But hey, at least Asmo is useful, hinting at the possibility of you feeling... insecure. Maybe you're too "inexperienced" (Mammon vehemently denies the possibility of you being a virgin, cause duh, look at you! Stunning, gorgeous, and he will totally kill anyone who touched you before him, but clearly, with how seductive and sexy you are, he can't possibily your first). So Mammon deducts Asmo is right; you're just nervous because you'll be with a great guy like Mammon!

♡ Worry not; he decides to show you the ropes! ... Literally. You might stutter and reject his ideas of getting close and personal, but Asmodeus had a handy bag of goodies for Mammon before he left. Even though Mammon is at his limit, he tries to keep it together for you, tying you up and making you watch him jerk off, reciting all the things he wants to do to you, how he'll do it, and showing you how insane you are driving him. There won't be any more nights to hide away after that, as Mammon will demonstrate to you exactly how worthy you are to lay with him. But at least he'll ease you into it, that's something, right? You'll get the full 7 hells of orgasms from his mouth to fingers to toys. Forcing you to rely on him as he takes away your senses, like sight, and the freedom to move as you please. By the time he finally gets to wet his cock on you, you'll be already too well-fucked to care, and if that isn't devotion, what is?

[deadly-diminuendo]

You Were My First

a spawn astarion x fem!tav reader oneshot / nsfw / ~3.9k words

Summary: The night he bit you, Astarion awakened something unexpected within you: desire. You offer to let him bite you again, only to receive a more scandalous offer in return. And though you have never before had a lover, you have never felt more tempted.

CW/Tags: virginity loss, vampire bites/blood drinking, tadpole mind sharing, fingering, oral sex, piv sex, act 1

Read on AO3

Or read below...

You toss, you turn, any hope of drifting back to sleep lost to you as memories of last night echo through your mind.

You let Astarion bite you.

And you liked it.

A little thrill runs through you as you reach your hand to your neck. You trace the marks where his fangs had pierced you, remembering the rush of exhilaration you experienced, the strange sense of intimacy you felt as he drank his fill. To lie beneath him, heart racing, losing yourself… Not so different from a lovers’ tryst, you imagine.

Not that you would know. You were quite the romantic in your youth, dreaming of waiting for the one. As the years passed by, you adopted a more practical view, seeking out not an unattainable ideal, but a genuine connection, simple and achievable—still, you never found it, and your first time has yet to happen.

Whether it is because of the unfathomable pull you feel towards your pale companion, or the threat of death lurking around every corner, you are beginning to believe attraction alone is enough.

Gods, you’ve given so much of yourself to Astarion already. And you would give him so much more.

You want him to be your first. Badly.

Really, you should know better. The man is a liar, a flirt, a vampire. He held a knife to your throat the very moment you met, questioned so many of your decisions in his exasperated, exaggerated tones, revealed himself to lack the morals you hold dear to your heart. You two are worlds apart, clearly.

But no amount of reason can dull the growing ache between your legs.

Tired as you are, you prop yourself up, your eyes scanning the surrounding campsite. Most of the others are fast asleep, or at least tucked away in their tents. Only Astarion is nowhere to be found, his tent open and empty, an extra unoccupied bedroll near the fire. Not yet back from his hunt, so it seems.

Temptation urges you to relieve yourself of this tension as you did last night following your exchange with your unexpected visitor. You were careful, shielding yourself with your blanket, limiting your movements, suppressing the sounds that nearly spilled out of you. You got away with it then, you think, but with Astarion still gone, you decide the risk tonight is too high. The embarrassment of him returning and catching you would be more than you could possibly handle.

You sigh. Standing up, you quietly make your way to the riverside. Something about gazing across the moonlit water brings you peace, and right now, peace is what you desperately need.

But you are not alone for long.

“Couldn’t sleep, my dear?”

You gasp as you whip around to see him standing before you—as useful as Astarion’s talent for stealth has proven to be, his penchant for sneaking up on you makes you nervous.

“No,” you answer, though you do not elaborate. “Did you have any luck on the hunt?”

“Not so much as a squirrel, I’m afraid, though they are hardly any better than the rats. There is nothing out there so tasty as you anyway.”

Your heart pounds, your cheeks flush, your mouth runs dry. The satisfied smirk he then gives you tells you he noticed.

You search for something sensible to say. “Will you be all right…?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” he says, a touch aloof as he picks over his sleeves. “If our little adventure continues as it has, I’m sure it won’t be long before more foes will have the misfortune of crossing our path. Blood will be much easier to come by now.”

Your shoulders slump a little, and you realize just how much you want him to sink his teeth into you—and maybe not just his teeth. You must be losing your mind.

“Maybe…” you squeak out, and then you freeze. No, this is a ridiculous idea, the worst idea—you cannot do it.

That wolfish look of his returns as he concentrates his full attention on you. “Yes?”

Ugh. You are going to do it.

“You can feed on me tonight, if you would like.”

“My, my. What a sweet, generous little thing you are,” he purrs as he inches closer, eyes ever locked on yours. “I could never refuse such an irresistible invitation. Shall we find somewhere more comfortable? Perhaps you’d care to join me in my tent?”

“Your tent…?!” You expected a little flirtation, but not this sort of proposition so soon.

“Come now, don’t act so surprised. The thought of last night has driven me to distraction, you know. And I know you feel it too.”

Oh, you do. You have wondered about it, cannot stop wondering about it—what it would be like to feel his skin, to hold him tight, to kiss his lips.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me. The way you tilt your lovely neck, even now.” Instinctively you straighten it as your cheeks burn hotter.

You cannot actually go through with this… Can you? There is something… off, about it all. Something wicked in his intense gaze and devious smile. Like a tiger eager to devour its prey.

Or a vampire eager to devour your blood, plain and simple. Perhaps that’s all this is, an attempt to guarantee his meals.

“I think it’s my blood you want, not me.”

“Not only your blood, I assure you. I rather liked having you under me. Indulging in you. Making you squirm. I’d like to explore that further.”

You know what the right choice is, the one that is sensible and safe: no.

But you’ve been sensible and safe for far too long.

“I… I would too,” you confess. You feel painfully shy now. Not even a tenday you’ve known him, and here you are, agreeing to share a bed with him.

He grins at you as he smooths away a strand of hair from your neck. You shiver at the sensation of cool fingertips touching your skin, your pulse quickening, anticipation rising as he lifts your chin, as your eyes again meet his.

“I thought so.”

And then his lips touch yours.

His kiss is perfection, equal parts sensual and sweet, the way you like it. It is not your first kiss—but this is better than anything you’ve known before. He pulls you in tight as you wrap your arms around him, longing to savour him, melt into him, become one with him. You never want to stop kissing him—but you crave more. Your hips rock gently, surrendering to instinct as he grasps at your blouse, looses it from your waistband.

This is really happening, you think—and then the reality of it all comes crashing into you, and though you have never wanted a man more, you find yourself pulling away.

You know you need to tell him.

“Second thoughts?”

“No,” you assure him, building up your nerve. “I want to, but… Well, I’ve never done this before.”

His eyes widen and you begin to shrink under his incredulous stare. “You’ve never had sex?”

You nod.

“Really, darling? I mean, there is a certain… innocence about you, but… Never?!”

“Innocence?” you repeat, feigning greater offense than you feel. He is teasing you, sure, but you don’t feel he is outright mocking you. You tease him back. “Make fun if you must, but if you really find me too sweet for your taste, I’ll gladly go to bed alone.”

“Oh, darling, there is no need for that. I’ll admit I have a bit of a sweet tooth from time to time. And I’m more than happy to help you right this terrible tragedy of yours.” He pauses, momentarily dropping his theatrics. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes,” you affirm, both to him and to yourself. “This is what I want.”

“Hm, I suppose it’s fitting, then. You were my first, after all.”        

You chuckle at this, equally charmed and perplexed. “What do you mean?”

“The blood of thinking creatures was forbidden fruit to us lowly spawn. Not anymore thanks to the tadpole—and thanks to you. You are the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Why exactly the idea of this man literally consuming you enthuses you so, you do not know—but you decide you do not care either. You might as well embrace it.

“To your tent, then…?”

“Perhaps… but there is one other place that might suit us better.”

+++

Astarion leads you into the woods with the promise of a more private setting.

You recall all the romantic tales you read over and over again as a child, the sort starring a noble hero and a kind-hearted princess who fall hopelessly in love, find happily ever after.

This is a far more lurid tale, you think. One of a maiden swept into a dark forest, carried away to the lair of a charming scoundrel, finding sinful delight in his arms.

Not what you ever pictured yourself doing. No, this is much more thrilling.

You imagine passion, primal and raw, surrendering to the predator within him as he takes your blood and your body. But as you approach a sweet little hideaway made up of blankets and pillows, you know you are in for a more tender experience.

“Funny that this cozy spot is already here,” you comment, knowing he must have set this up long before you agreed to come here with him.

He shrugs, playing innocent, though he is anything but. “I thought we might have use for it eventually.”

The first thing he does once you reach your destination is strip off his shirt, and you can’t help but steal a glance at his flawless form, your hands longing to run across his lean muscle and smooth skin. A touch nervous still, you opt for a more modest start for yourself, bracing against a nearby tree as you unlace your boots.

Just as you kick them off, he is on you, kissing you, tugging at your clothes, eager to pick up from where you left things earlier—and you are too. You work together to undress yourselves and each other, until not a single barrier is left between you.

He takes a step back, drinking in the sight of you, and you survey him with equal scrutiny. You have never before been naked in front of a man, and as much as your instinct tells you to shield yourself, you don’t.

And gods, he is gorgeous like this. You could feel him twitch against you as you locked lips, and now to see with your own eyes the undeniable effect of your touch… You want to drop to your knees and worship him, lavish him with your adoration—but your inexperience holds you back, makes you anxious.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, a welcome boost to your confidence.

“So are you,” you say, laughing softly.

“Obviously.” You laugh again, more heartily this time, your amusement lessening the apprehension you feel.

He closes the gap between you with another kiss, soft and tender and all too brief.

“Tonight will be all about you,” he tells you. You inhale sharply as you open your mouth to protest, but he speaks first. “If you’re still sure about this, of course.”

“I am, but… What about what you want?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, darling. I know I’ll have my fun with you.”

Astarion guides you down to your makeshift bed. His approach is slow, surprising you a little, but you appreciate it. He pulls you onto his lap and treats your back to a soothing massage, your muscles relaxing under his touch.

“That’s it, love. Let all that tension go.”

He draws you closer, peppering your neck with kisses as he holds you tight, the occasional graze of his fangs stirring your senses. Though you are acutely aware of his vampiric nature—how he could bite down hard and drain you dry at any moment—you marvel at how safe you feel cradled in his arms. His hands begin to roam, your need for him growing as he discovers every curve, every line, every detail—everywhere except where you want him most.

You already know how talented he is with his hands, and you wonder what else he can do with those dexterous fingers.

As one hand glides down your abdomen, you smile, knowing you will not have to wonder much longer.

A whimper escapes you as a single index finger gently runs along your entrance, curling into you with each enthralling stroke.

“Last night, when you went back to bed… You touched yourself, didn’t you?”

Oh. You were less covert than you thought. “Yes,” you admit, struggling to maintain your composure as he begins to trace slow, soft circles around your clit.

“And you were thinking of me?”

“Yes,” you sigh, a little more sheepish about this confession than the first.

“Good girl. I want you to show me what you did. Show me how to please you.”

You feel a tingle in your mind as he seeks to open the connection between you.

So you let him in.

You concentrate hard on the memory of your own touch, the rhythmic pressure of rubbing fingers into your sex, bringing yourself to elation. An art you have perfected in the absence of a lover to share yourself with.

And then the thought of him slips in, how you ache to be one with him, to share in his pleasure, and he in yours. A want that transcends the physical realm, you realize now, a want to not only know his body, but his mind, his heart, his soul, through and through.

Panic hits—you have exposed far too much, left yourself far too vulnerable. You hastily sever your telepathic link.

“You sweetheart,” he purrs, amused. Embarrassed though you are, his touch quickly makes you forget all else.

Tucking a second finger behind the other, he gravitates to the spot you prefer, the one you showed him in your mind, each stroke skilled, precise, perfect.

All you can do is give in.

You allow yourself to moan, to let him know just how well he’s working you, how easily your climax will likely come. The sensation is familiar, executed with an expertise that matches your own, but this time enhanced by the excitement of being with a partner. Of being with him.

You ascend towards your peak, your mind cycling through everything you have ever dreamed of doing, everything you hope you will have the chance to try with him: to ride him, to stroke him, to suck him, but most of all, to let him do anything he wants to do to you.

“And what was it that pushed you over the edge?” he asks, his voice now a whisper in your ear, making the whole encounter feel deliciously illicit. You could listen to him like this for hours. “Picture it. Show me.”

Oh, gods.

You follow his command, your minds melding together once more as you bring forth the memory: your favourite new fantasy.

The moment he bit you.

To succumb to him, to feel your blood coursing through you both, to let him conquer you so completely… You want him to taste you again. You want to feel his cock moving inside you when he does.

His fingers still stroke you flawlessly, the apex within reach—and you both know how you can get there.

So he bites your neck.

Release finally washes over you, waves of intense pleasure pulsing throughout your entire body as you writhe about—a result of both your orgasm and his indulgence in you.

“Gods,” he growls as he lets go, as the feeling begins to fade, as your minds disconnect once more. You delight in the possibility your bliss was a shared experience, flowing from your consciousness into his, flooding his mind with your pleasure. You let your body collapse against him.

“Oh, we’re far from done yet, my darling.” He pulls your face to his, your lips parting eagerly, welcoming the brush of his tongue against yours. You can feel him grin against you before he stops to speak.

“So eager to be tasted, you sweet thing. Perhaps I might… taste you elsewhere?”

You think you know what he means, but you are truly entering the unknown now. Unease still lingers in your mind, yet anticipation propels you forward, eager to know what carnal delights you have yet to discover.

You give him a nod and a smile.

He maneuvers around you, and with a firm tug at your hips, he has you flat on your back. His lips explore you, trailing kisses along your skin until, finally, he is between your legs.

And then he licks you.

The sensation is entirely foreign to you—overwhelming, overstimulating at first. He seems to recognize this, focusing on gentle, broad strokes to ease you into it, to build you up until you are ready to be devoured.

And when you reach that point, you instantly understand what you have been missing.

“Astarion!” His name escapes your mouth as a bewildered cry, the pleasure you feel unlike anything you have ever experienced—every lick, every stroke, every swirl has you moaning, nearing your peak already. You glance at him, and he fixes his eyes on yours, the sight of him lapping away at you driving you deeper into this mesmerizing madness. You run a hand through his hair, fingers entangling in his silvery curls, and with the other, you reach for his.

“Yes…” you hear yourself chant, high-pitched and urgent, as he tongues your sensitive nub with quick, deliberate flicks.

Orgasm overwhelms your whole being—your body tenses and spasms, your wails ringing out so loud you fear they might reach the campsite—but you are long past caring now.

You thought it might end there, but instead his tongue feathers against you, a light touch to let you recover—and then he goes in for the kill again. You buck against him in a frenzied search for release as he continues working you, desperate to let this newfound rapture engulf you entirely.

Euphoria fills you once more as you shake violently against him. Countless times you have used your own fingers, thought you had found the limits of your body, but this pleasure is beyond belief, beyond what you ever thought was possible.

He stops, but only briefly—just long enough to make a single request.

“One more for me, darling?”

You watch him as he continues to pamper you, your next climax coming so easily you can barely comprehend it, your keening shattering the quiet of the night.

And now there is only one thing you long to experience more.

Astarion crawls over you, splaying your legs apart with his knees, your anticipation for him burning so hot now it agonizes you. You whine as he guides his length along your folds, coating himself in your slick, driving you wild with need.

“Astarion, please…” you find yourself begging, unwilling, unable to wait any longer for him to claim you.

Mischief pulls his mouth into a grin. “Please what, dear?”

It takes everything in you to say it, but you do. “Please fuck me.”

He rewards you immediately, easing his way inside. You adjust to this intoxicating new sensation, feeling only a hint of resistance as he stretches you, until at last he is wholly inside.

“You’re taking me so well,” he tells you, his seductive tone making you melt.

Gods, you have never felt more full—he fits so perfectly in you, as if your bodies were made to match each other. You bask in the delicious friction he creates as he pulls away only to plunge back into you again and again, your moaning, soft, intermittent at first, becoming bold, steady.

You love every sensuous detail—the feeling of skin against skin; the look of pleasure that graces his handsome face; all the noises you make together, from his little groans to the wet, salacious sounds of your joining. You arch against him, every thrust hitting you just right—he knows he has you hurtling towards your release, knows the moaning, writhing mess he will make out of you.

And then it comes. The sweetest surrender.

You tighten around his cock, revel in in every tremor of your release, sing out in pure ecstasy.

You lavish kisses upon him, his neck, his collarbone, his lips, anywhere you can reach, eager for him to feel as cherished as you do, to take his pleasure in your body, to give in to his deepest desires. And he does, you think, his restraint beginning to falter as you surrender to the powerful, relentless motion of his hips meeting yours.

His want is clear as you feel the tips of his fangs against your neck, and you are more than willing to comply.

You open the link between you, pushing a message from your mind to his: “I’m all yours.”

You barely notice the twinge of pain, too lost in bliss to care, too stimulated by the sensations that flow from his consciousness to yours—how your blood fulfills him, thrills him, sates him; how deliciously pliant your flesh is as he sinks into you endlessly; how he’s, oh, so close to his climax.

So close that you once more find yourself rapidly approaching your own—you sense his want, his need to feel the elation of emptying himself inside of you, your own core equally aching for his spend.

When you register the tell-tale twitch of his orgasm, you slip into your own. His pleasure crashes into your mind, and yours into his, becoming indistinguishable—an intimate and intense intertwining of your bodies and minds.

As you lie together, silent and satiated, your minds both your own again as you attempt to readjust to reality. You relish in the lingering thrill of sex, recall every moment of pleasure you experienced, from your first kiss to the moment he finally spilled into you. You just had the best night of your life—but doubt creeps in, gnaws away at you.

You are sure he truly wanted you when your minds merged—yet you could sense something else, something dark underlying his consciousness. You look at Astarion—the smoulder he gives you is as calculated and collected as it always has been, betraying nothing. A perfectly crafted mask.

You realize just how much you wish that he will drop that mask for you one day, that you might truly bond and connect. You knew this risk was there, that you might end up feeling more attached to him than you perhaps should—but you have a little hope, and you will hold on to it. You reach for his hand, enclosing it in yours.

“I’m glad you were my first,” you tell him.

He gives your hand a squeeze, repeats his little joke from earlier as he smiles back at you. “And I’m glad you were mine.”

Maybe you are playing the fool, but something in his eyes, in his voice, something about the way his own words seem to surprise him… It feels genuine this time.

And for now, that is enough.

Thank you for reading!

My AO3 | My Masterlist

This was the first fic I finished on AO3, and now here it is on Tumblr! I'm currently working on two more short x reader fics, one for Spawn Astarion and one for Ascended Astarion, but I haven't ruled out also writing a follow-up for this one where our reader shares another first with him. 👀

Work is particularly annoying right now, but I hope to have more smut to share soon!

[thewritetofreespeech]

Here & Now

pairing: Aemond targaryen x Targaryen!reader [Rhaenyra & Daemon's daughter]

summary: on the morning you were set to return to Dragonstone to reunite with your family, the Greens make their move to take the throne, and Aemond comes to you.

tags: heterosexual sex, fingering, loss of virginity, targaryen incest themes, tw: blood, tw: knives

words: 3.1K

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When you were a little girl, your mother used to read you stories. Ones about knights, fey creatures, and princesses locked in towers. You never liked the tower ones. You always asked why they just didn't jump out of the tower to get away.

Looking down at the courtyard from your window, you realized that maybe they had a long way down as you did and that's why they couldn't get away.

The door opened and you sprung from your seat to face your intruder. You weren’t sure who you were expecting, but it wasn’t Aemond. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you.” His voice was even, but years of being near each other told you that his undertones were that of someone who was ashamed. “Are you alright?”

“I am a prisoner in my own home, Aemond. What do you think?!” You don’t mean to scratch at him. You are sure this is none of his doing, but he was the only one here.

You felt the fool for choosing to stay with your great-aunt Rhaenys, not wanting her to be left alone; even fierce she-dragons needed someone to lean on. But this morning you were barred from leaving your chambers by gold cloaks. You demanded to know what was the meaning of this. Demanded to know what was going on. Demanded to speak to your grandfather. Yet no one would answer you.

“Our patriarch is dead.” You felt a stone sink into your stomach. Somehow, you knew this to be true. King Viserys was very ill. It was only a collection of days in the best circumstances. “They’re going to make Aegon king this afternoon.” You felt as though the stone, and your breakfast, was going to come back up.

“So you are going to usurp my mother’s claim?! Take her birthright away!”

“It’s not my doing.” Aemond snapped at you. Clearly tired of being scratched. “It’s my mothers.” You scoff. You both know that Alicent’s clumsy maneuverings are just the attempts of her father. The King’s Hand with the knife in his back.

“So I am to what, hm? Sit here quietly while you take away my family’s future until you throw me over the walls edge?”

“I doubt you would sit here quietly, and no one is going to throw you over a wall, or any other ledge. Not if I have a say in it.”

You laugh. Despite yourself. Aemond was always funny, if you paid attention to him.

So few ever did. A second son, of a second marriage, with a princess in line for the throne. He was as meaningless as sand to the beaches to most people, then avoided completely after he was maimed. You always felt bad for that. Thought it was unfair that Lucerys got off scot-free after he crippled one of their own. People called those who took blood from their family Kinslayers, but what of those that maim their members?

“So you will let me go?”

Aemond shrugged. “Probably.” It was likely the best answer he could give. This wasn’t his decision. He couldn’t honestly tell you either way. But he did know, “you cannot take your dragon though.”

You felt your heart freeze in your chest. As if your Targaryen blood rushed out of you at the thought of abandoning your dragon. “You would take Stormsheild from me?” Your voice quaked despite your efforts. “Why not just cut off my arm? My heart….”

Aemond rushed over to you as you began to sob. Everything crashing down around you, and the thought of losing your dragon too much to bear. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “It doesn’t have to be this way.” He whispered in your hair. “You can stay here. With me.”

You pull back from Aemond’s chest to look at him. Blinking away tears as you must not have heard him right. “What?”

“Stay here with me.” He repeated it. You had not misheard. “Stay with me and you can keep Stormshield and your home, and be back in line for the throne. As my queen.”

You step back from Aemond to look at him. “You would…have me forsake my own mother? Turn my back on her?”

“You were always meant to turn your back on her to be with me.” He clasped at your hand. Not pulling you close again but not letting you go. Aemond speaks of course of your engagement. You had been betrothed from a young age, much like Aegon & Helaena or any other noble child in the realm. King Viserys last ditch effort to bring the two sides of his family together, you assumed. It had not gone over well with Alicent or your mother. Your father threw a chair when his side was alone. But none of them could stand against the king and his decision, so the pact stood.

You had not been upset about it like the adults. You cared for Aemond. He had been sweet when you left him. You sent him ravens. He remembered your nameday and sent your candied treats in secret. And when you return, he had grown into a fine, if not jaded, man. Fierce, refined, handsome. What had been childhood friendship and fancy turned into a blooming love overnight. One you were excited to explore. But now your blooms were burning into ash.

“My mother won’t stand for this. My father will come.”

“I have no doubt he will try.” There was no way Daemon would let his truest daughter, his favorite, stay here without a fight. He wouldn’t be so brazen about his favoritism like his father, but even with his one-eye Aemond could tell that you were his favorite over his Velaryon vipers. If Rhaenyra took the throne, he would have broken their engagement the first chance he got. A second son nowhere near good enough for his Targaryen jewel. Now he had all the more reason to break it, as Aemond wasn’t stupid enough to think Rhaenyra & Daemon were going to give up the throne without a fight. But what if he didn’t have a choice?

“I want you to be my wife. Right here. Right now.”

You looked at Aemond in shock. Suddenly afraid. “You’re not going to—“I would never hurt you.” He seemed offended you would even suggest it. Understandable. “But this was how it was always meant to be. You and me. No matter what happens, no one can take that away from us if you agree to be mine. We can be together.”

Your head was swimming. Your heart was pounding. “L…Let me think…”

“There’s no time.” Aemond insisted. “Once the coronation starts, Aegon will be King and that will be the end of it.” They will be divided. Those for Rhaenyra. Those for his brother. And Aemond did not trust his brother or family not to ruin this for him. Just as Daemon would have her taken from him, his mother and family would do the same. He couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t bear to give up one more thing for Aegon’s happiness. “Say you’ll be mine. Say you will be my wife. Say you’ll stay here with me and we will be here together. Tell me that you want that.”

“I do.”

The words leave your mouth without you even realizing it. You had spent so long imagining a future with Aemond. He was your intended. He was your future. You loved him, but you also loved your mother & your family.

Aemond doesn’t recognize your distress though and swooped in to kiss you passionately. The two of you had kissed before. Brief, as children, to see what it was like. Then again before you left as a sort of parting gift. Then once final upon your return as a welcome home and back in his arms. It had never been like this before. Aemond, for all his hard edge, was gentle and shy with you. Now, however, he kissed you like a man who meant to consume you. Taking you into his body, instead of the other way around, so you could never leave him. When he broke away from you your vision swam. Righting itself after a few deep breaths but all you could see was Aemond.

“Undress.” You blink up at him in shock. “If we do this now, there’s nothing they can do.”

You realize Aemond wants not just your words but your chastity. As a sign of good faith. He wants to consummate your marriage before your vows. Cart before the horse. Everyone would have no choice but to accept your marriage now, or your side would risk the news that you were no longer a maiden and rumors Aemond was no more than a craven opportunist who would force himself of a captured princess.

You gulp. Feeling your tears bead up again in your eyes. This was not how you pictured your life with Aemond starting. This was not the dream you were meant to share. But dreams often fall short of reality.

For Aemond’s part, he also swallowed the lump in his throat and began to undress. Paying no mind to the habitual work of undoing his jerkin and belts to look at you. He hadn’t thought much on his marriage before your return. Save that he would do it and try his best. He would do his duty and have you give the realm more Targaryen blood to reign and treat you as honorably as he could. But on the few times he did think of his marriage, he would think of the wedding and your wedding night. How he would take his time with you. Appreciate you, the way you should be appreciated as a lady, as a Targaryen royal, and as his wife. But that was all gone. They will not have time for sweet words and sweet moments. That will have to come later now. Just another thing taken from him.

You feel embarrassed to be standing naked in from of Aemond. Your hands hopelessly trying to cover your modesty. Fretful glances around as if some septa in the shadows was going to jump out and cast shame on you. “Lie on the bed.” You do as you’re beckoned and lay down. Stiff. Ridged. Your hands balled into fists at your sides to keep them from flying up and covering you again.

Aemond watched all of this and did not look pleased. Still, he climbed onto the bed on top of you, and you try to sink further into the mattress to instinctually get away. “I will try to be gentle.” His words certainly were. You relax as a bit of the Aemond you knew came back into his voice and nuzzle against the hand on your cheek. “But this may hurt. It is not my intention. None of this…this wasn’t what I wanted.”

You know he doesn’t mean ‘this’ in general, but how this has come about. “I know.” You were both doing something neither of you wanted in order to get what you did want. What was love without sacrifice?

“It should only be this time. And I swear I will never hurt you again. Please, do not hate me.” You touch Aemond’s cheek in return. You could never hate him. Be cross with him. Snap and bite at him from time to time, but never hate him. He must know that.

He nuzzled into your palm as you did his and rested there for a moment with his eye closed. He then nodded, opened it, and his hand was no longer touching your cheek but the sacred spot between your legs.

You jump at the touch with a sharp hiss. Trying to crawl out from under Aemond but blocked by the pillows. He held you back. Shushing you as he continued his touching. “It’s only this time.” He reminded you. And you try to remain calm and still as he kept going.

Aemond needed no proof that you were a maiden. Your trust and faithfulness was all he needed to know that you would not break the arrangement between you; although he had not been so chaste, but he was a man. When he touched you, however, it was clear that no one had been there before him. Your entrance was tight around his finger. Nearly barring him out. He wanted to tell you to relax, but felt he had no place for it. ‘Yes, my love, relax. Don’t think about the fact that you are about to lose your chastity to a brute. Or that my family is usurping yours. Don’t think about the fact that this still may not work and you have thrown everything away for a hairbrained plan of a desperate man who just doesn’t want to be alone.’ Yes. Those were the sweet words every girl wanted to hear on her ‘wedding night’.

He removed his finger from her entrance, bringing it up to his mouth to lick two then pushing both back in. You whine. Feeling your entrance stretch to an uncomfortable level of accommodation. Your mother had been very forthcoming on what to expect from your wedding night, although she had been clear she wished it to be far in the future. She let you know that there would be pain. That there would be times that it felt like it wasn’t worth it. But it was your duty as a wife, and, with the right man, it could be quite enjoyable. You knew what she meant now as you felt your apex burn. When would the ‘quite enjoyable’ start?

By the third finger inside you, you had gnawed on your bottom lip so hard you were drawing blood. Aemond said nothing. Just watched you. He seemed terrified to do anything than what he was doing. Finally, his fingers came free of you and shifted above you. "You need to spread your legs." They had instinctively closed when he pulled from you and you blush as you do as he says. "Please do not hate me."

You had thought your apex burned when his fingers were inside you, but if that was the case then your whole pelvis was on fire when he pushed inside you. Your hands fly up to claw at Aemond's back as you let out a wordless scream when he split you & your maidenhead open. "Stop! Wait, wait! It hurts!"

"I know." His words are apologetic as he offers you a kiss on the cheek but does not pull out. "Just bear with it for me."

He stopped long enough to give you time to adjust. Try to relax. Anything. Then he pulled his cock out and slid it back in. Your teeth grit at the pain. It’s not as bad as you thought, after the initial shock. It does hurt, but to hear people talk about it it was the same as losing a limb. You fell off Stormsheild once when you were a little girl. Bruised something fierce from the fall. That hurt worse than this, but it was no less uncomfortable.

Aemond tried to take this as slow as he could for you. He knows this is not how a maiden expects to become a woman. Some hard fast thing to be done with and move on. But the clock was ticking. They had very little time left before the coronation and the ceremony started. It needed to be finished before then.

That’s what he told himself.

In truth, he was a lost novice again inside you. Your warmth. Your tightness. Just…you. This was not how he pictured you being bonded to him, but he would be a liar if he said he wasn’t still elated that you were beneath him and soon all his.

He could feel his climax building. Unable to hold it back any longer. Aemond reached blindly for the knife at the side of your bed, as no true Targaryen would ever go to sleep without a blade at their side, and sliced your hand open. You cry out finally. Having kept your jaw tight the whole time you were doing this in order to not scream and turn wild eyed toward Aemond to ask him what the hells he was doing, only to see him cutting his own hand. He threw the knife away to the side and linked your hands together. His eye turned to you. Holding you there for a moment before he kissed you deeply to fully seal your bond. A Valyrian bond.

With the pain redirected to your hand, you can finally feel Aemond inside you with some joy. It’s not pleasurable, but it’s not painful. Your head swam at the realization that he was inside you, he was kissing you, that he was all around you until suddenly Aemond’s hips stopped and you realized that there was more than just his cock inside you.

He let your lips go after that. Panting with you. Sweaty. Whole. You hiss sharply when Aemond pulled out of you. The pain returning to your center from your hand. Still bloody, sheets bloody, why did there have to be so much blood for this?

Aemond sat up and ripped a corner of the sheets into two clean strips. One for you and one for him. He wrapped your hand first and then his own, before he pulled you close to him on the ruined bedding. “Are you alright?”

You shrug against him. Your maidenhood was sore. Your hand was throbbing. Your mother was about to be tossed aside and you were still technically a prisoner in your childhood home. You weren’t sure how to answer that question.

“I will have to go. For the ceremony.” Aemond doesn’t want to talk about it, but he does have to go. Must show a united front for the kingdom. “I’ll come back later. To check on you.”

“Will I be allowed to leave?” You ask him. That question had still not been answered.

“After it’s over we’ll go talk to my mother and King Hand.” A name you both gave his grandfather as children to tease him, in secret of course. It wasn't nearly as funny as you remembered now. “You are under my protection now. I will keep you safe.”

Safe. How strange that word sounded now. You had felt safe with your parents. You had felt safe within these walls. You had felt safe with Aemond. But all of that had suddenly changed. What was 'safe' now?

Aemond dressed quickly, then came over to you again. Tentative, shy even, he came over to give you a brief peck on the lips. Like the ones you used to give as children. “I will come back.” He promised again. “Everything will be alright.”

Then he was gone. You were alone. You pulled your knees to your chest, despite the pain in doing so, and look out your window. Maybe the other princesses stayed in the tower because they had no choice too.

[sdv-roseglass-farm]

NSFW Elliott headcannons

'Hi, um could I request Elliott nsfw headcanons with a female reader? Please and thank you!' - Anonymous

Hello! Thank you for the request, sorry it took me so long :) I hope you enjoy them! I wrote for both him alone, gender neutral, female and male readers :)

Word count: 1386

Masturbation headcannons:

He is 100% a virgin before meeting you, but he definitely isn't completely lost about sex or what he enjoys

He may be one of the older bachelors but he has rather poor social skills so he has not gotten far with anyone

With getting stressed about writing, he enjoys edging himself to encourage himself to get a certain amount write before cumming

With edging himself so much, especially in a writing block, he often ends up in tears out of desperation

With living alone on the beach he doesn't have to worry about people hearing him so he is very noisy, especially with dirty talk

He enjoys reading sexual romance novels and not letting himself touch himself until he finishes the book

Sex toys are all kept under his bed in a box, where he has different things including different types of vibrators and dildos.

He uses the vibrators and dildos as different ways to edge and tease himself

He loves watching porn where the participants are overstimulated and covered in cum

Watching someone using a fuck machine and become super messy is one of his favourite types of videos to get off to

With gen!reader:

Dirty talk is his specialty to the point that half the time he doesn't even realise it - and terms of endearment fall out his mouth with so much ease you would think he has forgotten your name

He sounds rather proper due to his large vocabulary from spending all of his time reading since he was young, but watching him fall apart due to it is the best thing

He is always willing to experiment, but doesn't like much physical pain, finding it too distracting.

He prefers to use soft material to be tied or to tie you up with rather than handcuffs or rough rope

He loves being able to hear the person he is with, being able to hear the become more of a mess due to him

Cockwarming when he is writing is something he loves, though he loses track of what he is meant to be writing so easily as the sight and feel of you on him makes his mind blank

He prefers watching you go down on him mostly, just because the sight of drool, his cum and your tears all over your face can cause him to cum without being touched

You cockwarming him with your mouth under his desk makes him feel as though he is permanently on the brink of orgasm

He does sometimes lose control with grabbing your hair and face-fucking you, but he is never rough with it and is always careful to not hurt you too badly

No matter the gender of his partner or their genitals, he will keep a hair tie on his wrist in preparation if he does end up having oral sex that day, as he prides himself on his hair and likes to keep it out of the way when being so intimate

While he is down for a lot of things, he does become very flustered for your first few times and doesn't fully open up to experimenting until after becoming more comfortable

You are his number one priority and will all be checking in with you throughout no matter what you do to make sure that you are okay and enjoying yourself

He will make sure you have deep discussions before trying anything new and your plans, such as if you want him to come inside you he will talk about protection for stds (and pregnancies for people with a uterus)

he firmly believes that you can tell a lot from someone's eyes and prefers positions where you can see one another

If he is writing erotica, even just to practice his writing skills, he will experiment with you to make sure the things are possible such as the positions or the look someone gets

With fem!reader:

He enjoys eating you out, watching his mouth cause you so much pleasure but with his unconscious habit of dirty talk he accidentally breaks away from your cunt a lot

Sitting on his face and being in control is the best way to make sure this doesn't happen, and he sure won't be complaining as he loves the sight of you on top of him

He loves making you wet and watching your wetness drip from your cunt

Filling you up with his cum and watching it leak from your pussy is honestly heaven to him, and he will use his fingers to spread it around and over your clit to cause you cum again and push more of his cum out

He uses it as an excuse to fill you up again, loving the feeling of your walls milking his cock

While he will use lube with you, he prefers using your own wetness and his cum to make you messy

The best position in his mind is against his desk or on the kitchen counter, where he can watch your face as you come undone and watch your tits bounce with every movement

Overstimulation is definitely expected with him as your partner, as he will love continuously going and watching your cunt become red from the amount of attention it is receiving and from the impact of his thrusts

With his love for watching you become wet and messy, he will sometimes nick some of your underwear and become instantly turned on at any dampness on them, especially if there is any slickness in them

He will keep your underwear for a couple of days, getting off on the smell of them before returning them to your laundry

He is fully on board if you ever want to peg him, with having used dildos on himself and has offered to let you watch him ride one

With male!reader:

He enjoys giving you a blowjob, watching you lose yourself to pleasure from his mouth alone is a massive turn on

You fucking his face is definitely a turn on for him, with your cock being shoved down his throat at a pace he doesn't control causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head

He has offered to let you watch him ride one of his dildos before, and is more than willing to take either role when it comes to anal sex

He uses an excess amount of lube, loving how messy it makes you and uses your precum to help make you messier

He will make you cum multiple times, preferring you to come on him or on your body rather than on the desk or bed

He will use his fingers to push any of your cum that has spilt out of him back inside of him

He is more than willing to lick up any cum off of you, whether you scoop some up with your fingers or if it is off your stomach

He will use a desk or bed to help make sure you can both face one another still during anal sex

He is more than willing to ride you or let you ride him, with it definitely causing him to talk a lot more

He will consistently overstimulate you and milk your cock - loving the mixture of pleasure and pain and the look in your eyes with how blank your mind goes from the amount of times he made you cum

Aftercare:

He will clean you off and make sure you are okay

He will make sure you are comfortable, wrapping you up in his duvet cover while fetching you both some water and something to eat

After making sure you have eaten and drank something he will help you to the bathroom to pee and to also make sure you are fully cleaned up

He will then help you back and pull you to his chest, and have a discussion about what you enjoyed, didn't enjoy etc.

Your enjoyment is his number one priority and he is the king at communication

If you need something he will run off to grab it for you, making sure that you are not hurt physically or emotionally

He will hold you to his chest for however long you want, while making sure you know his own feelings on what happened

[bucks-babe]

More Virgin Bucky

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky 

Summary: Bucky jerks off to the memory of your movie night

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: male masturbation, mention of past blowjob, Bucky is a horny boy, reader is not in this one but he thinks about them

A/N: The part two that a lot of yall wanted. Am I a tease? Yes. Bucky does not lose his v-card in this one. BUT I will write a part three I promise. I want to corrupt this man so bad. Also, I wrote this in like an hour sooo. Part of the Virgin!Bucky series but can be read alone

One week. Actually eight days and five hours, but Bucky is the only one counting. That’s how long it's been since you sucked the sense out of your boyfriend. It has taken every ounce of control Bucky has to not ask you to do it again. It’s all he thinks about ever since that night.

He would be embarrassed if you knew, but in all fairness, you did this to him. You effectively made him malfunction. Bucky has been fucking his fist practally every night, replaying the best moment of his life. How your mouth wrapped around him perfectly, the slight gagging sounds, and don’t even get him started on how you looked up at him. 

And when you told him to cum in your mouth? Fuck! His cock pulses at the memory. Bucky is a greedy man - he wants more. He wants you to suck his cock again, maybe you’ll suck on his ball this time, get them all wet and slobbery, make him cum without even touching his cock. 

For the past few days of his incessant horniness, he’s been thinking about something else, too. It always starts out with you, his throbbing cock in your mouth, but there is a shift, you on the bed with his head between your legs. He never gets very far into this fantasy before he cums all over his hand and chest. Something about eating you out has him cumming in seconds.

But Bucky can’t bring himself to ask for what he wants. He’s too embarrassed; no one in the 40’s ever talked about eating their girl’s pussy. He wasn’t completely ignorant to the fact that women’s pleasure wasn’t important to men back then, but Bucky didn’t know if what he wanted was normal, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask.

As he lies in bed, once again Bucky feels his cock harden in his pants. Luckily for his pride, he’s alone in bed, and nothing is stopping his flesh hand from inching toward his crotch. His balls are so heavy and full even though he jerked himself off twice the night before, cumming so much he had to change the sheets. 

Grabbing his erection, Bucky hissed in pleasure. No matter how many times he’s touched himself this past week, he is still a sensitive baby when it comes to his cock. “Fuck, doll, touch my cock, just like that.” Bucky lets his mind wander to his go to fantasy. He imagines you between his legs, that the hand rubbing his dick is your soft palms and not his callused one.

His hips jerk off the bed, chasing friction of his hand through his boxers. “Go ahead, doll, take it out.” When you aren’t there, Bucky is in charge, making himself feel good, directing you in his fantasy. But can’t help himself but let you take charge when he’s with you. He just gets so nervous, not wanting to let you down and never experiencing pleasure so intense. 

He’s trying to take this slow, drawing his pleasure out, but, hell, you make him so damn horny that he just can’t help but push his boxers down to his thighs, past his heavy balls, and ignores the wet spot on his underwear from his weeping head.

Using his precum, Bucky wraps his hand around his head and slowly pulls his hand down to his base. “Oh, God! Just like that!” He has to squeeze his base to stop himself from cumming at the first stroke of this hand.

Scrambling, he pushes his boxers down to his ankles and spreads his legs, “doll, touch my balls, get them nice and wet.” His metal hand cups his ever growing sack, “shit, yeah that feels fucking great! You feel how heavy they are? All that cum is going down your throat tonight. You hear me, doll?” 

With his metal hand still on his balls, he uses his flesh hand on his cock, imagining your lips instead, you slobbering over his cock, not his precum lubing it. “So good with your mouth, you know that? You’re such a fucking slut.” His thumb traces over the thick vein right under the head of this cock and has Bucky calling you a slut, something he didn’t even know he’d be into, but once that image was in his head he had to take his hand off his cock; he didn’t want to cum just yet. Not when he just started.

Taking deep breaths, Bucky tries to calm himself down, but imaginary you climbs up his body and Bucky knows this is the end. “Sit on my face, doll, and let me eat your pussy.” He closes his eyes for this part, because Bucky has never seen your pussy before, he wonders if you are sporting a bush like the women in his old porn mags did, or if you shave, or wax, Bucky doesn’t give a shit. 

He’s never tasted a cunt before, and has nothing to base it on, but the thought of your entire weight on his face, smothering him with your pussy, makes the most pornographic moan leave his mouth and cum shoots out of his tip without him touching it.

He cums for what feels like minutes before he finally stops and he lays back against his pillow, not having the energy to clean himself off before he falls asleep. He needs to taste your pussy and soon. 

[mythicmanuscripts]

i just know that sub!aemond gets really embarassed the first time he properly moans during sex.. like he knows that «only weak guys does that» so he’s really self-concious about it, but after gettibg comfortable it’s ALL he does🤭

I love this!!! I’m always glad to write more soft subby and a little angsty Aemond.

NSFW sub!Aemond below the cut :))

So my first thought when I read this was actually about the time Aegon made Aemond lose his virginity at the brothel? Obviously we know he felt so exposed and vulnerable and never went back or slept with another person until he met you, but I think there’s more to it than that actually.

Obviously he’s nervous, and even though he’s scared it does feel good. He whimpers and moans a little and every time he does the brothel worker chuckles and calls him adorable? But she’s so patronising about it and it just makes Aemond even more uncomfortable.

He doesn’t even consider laying with another again before he meets. Obviously it’s an arranged marriage and he’s very stiff at first, but he gets comfortable and he realises you’ll always care for him and he just finds a safe space.

I think that once Aemond starts to relax and let his walls down, he tends to actually be quite a bit louder? I don’t mean just sexually. I mean when it’s just the two of you and he feels safe and loved then he tends to laugh a lot easier and louder, he’ll also whine more and hum more and just generally be much more expressive. He doesn’t speak as softly either.

As he relaxes he gets louder and he stops being put together. It’s something he doesn’t actually notice and you make a conscious decision not to mention this to him because you know he’ll retreat back into himself if he knew.

And because it takes weeks of just getting to know him and forming a bond before anything sexual happens, you encounter this louder relaxed version of Aemond way before you actually sleep with him. Sometimes he’ll walk into your shared quarters and when he removes his eye patch it’s like you can physically see the weight lifted off his shoulders. He’ll stand there for a moment and then smile wider than he ever does in public and come to join you on the couch or in bed.

When things to get sexual, Aemond struggles to not lose control. I don’t mean fighting you for dominance, because of course we all know he’d never want that, I mean that his head gets all fuzzy and he gets desperate and needy and he so badly wants to just relax against you and let you control him.

The first time you hear him moan is when you’re kissing him and straddling him? Aemond feels like he’s on cloud 9. He’s gripping your hips and panting into your mouth and overwhelmed in all the best ways. You grind your hips down against his crotch and he throws his head back and moans, shaking a little.

It’s quite possibly the hottest thing you’ve heard. But the moment he realises what he’s done he goes stiff and pushes you off. You sit next to him, asking him what’s wrong and he just mumbles he’s sorry and he didn’t mean to do that.

“Didn’t mean to what?” You ask him, pulling him closer and wrapping your arm around his shoulder, “Didn’t mean to feel good?” He blushes and burrows his head in your shoulder in response, clearly embarrassed.

You let it go this time, just letting him relax until he’s asking for more kisses. The make out session ends without much more happening.

The first time you touch his cock, he tries SO hard to stay composed? He’s literally shaking and grinding his teeth to stop himself from making sounds.

You aren’t having it this time though. You pull your hand away and make him look you in the eye and let him know that if wants your attention then he can’t hold back his sounds.

For the next few weeks it seems like every time you do anything sexual for him he only gets louder? Pretty soon he doesn’t even try to stop himself, letting himself whine and moan and beg.

[youngtacoes]

Strangers, no more

Cooper Howard aka The Ghoul x f!reader

Author's note: this is a long one !! i've had this scenario in my head for a long ass time and i just had to get it out on paper. cooper isn't as cruel in this one, sorry if that's not your thing, but he can be soft sometimes too! fyi: reader is 18+ and everything is consensual! If you're only here for the smut you can skip toward the end.

Word count: 6,8k

Summary: Cooper is a bounty hunter struggling for caps and you need to be transported safely across the wasteland in "good condition", luckily it pays well. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: 18+ Mentions of r*pe, impregnation & torture, religious cult, angst, virgin!reader, losing virginity, graphic smut

~

It was getting bad, really damn bad. Days of good-for-nothing bounty jobs, vial after vial, cough attack after cough attack. He needed the caps desperately if he was to keep himself from turning feral anytime soon. He’d been taking small jobs here and there, just enough to keep himself at bay for a few days, but he knew he couldn’t keep going at this rate for much longer. He needed a bigger job, a bigger cash prize, a bigger bounty, but every time he stopped by the wall of people with prizes attached to them, he found himself disappointed in how low the numbers were. That is until he notices a fresh face staring back at him, hidden behind newer posters, large letters displayed across. "BIG JOB", and this one has an even larger number attached.

He steps forward, pushing the other posts away and rips the new face off the wall to study the number closer. Yup, he read it right.

Five thousand caps.

"Well, I’ll be damned," he muttered.

A young girl, maybe in her 20s. She looks well put together, innocent, and has a sincere smile on her face. For the first time in a very, very long time, he found himself wondering what her story was and why she was worth so damn much, but he didn’t like to dwell on it for too long. A job is a job, and this was going to be worth every damn cap.

On the poster, it states that she was to get picked up at the coordinates provided and to keep her in "good condition". Well, shit, that might just be the hardest part. The ghoul had never been one to take care of his captives, and most often he preferred if the poster stated "good dead or alive". This was definitely going to be different, and if it wasn’t for the "good condition" detail, he’d almost think it was too good to be true. Perhaps even think it was a trap.

~

It’s midnight, and you’re seated by your desk with a pen in hand, drawing carefully and concentrated on making art on this dirty sheet of old newspaper, but it was good enough for you. You drew flowers and insects from an old pre-war book about nature and their hidden treasures. You were always fascinated by the pre-war times, and though you will never know what it was truly like, you liked to imagine who you would’ve been back in those times.

It’s your way of forgetting about the current state of your life and the predicament you found yourself in. You were born in the wasteland, to a mother who did her best to protect you, but in the end, she had been brutally murdered by a group of raiders who attacked your farm, and you were taken captive by them at the age of 9. You spent a few horrid days with them before your current group found you and bought your freedom from them.

To be fair, you’ve been treated quite well by this group, and you thought you had a family in them at one point. That was until a few months ago when they decided you needed to be isolated from the rest for reasons you still didn’t quite understand. The leader of the group, Margot, had carefully selected you for a special assignment, and made sure to tell you the isolation was for your own good. Apparently you needed special treatment before a long journey to a sacred place called Halfway that was waiting for your arrival.

Your fellow peers would come and visit you to show their excitement, though you didn’t quite understand it, it must be something good with all the positive buzz that’s surrounding you. So your head got filled with all sorts of scenarios and dreams of where you were going and what luxuries you were to experience on this assignment. Though you had your doubts that it was all just a coverup for something else, you didn’t have any reason not to trust your group. They had been nothing but kind to you as long as you’d been there.

You’re startled out of your thoughts by heavy knocks on your locked door and a command shouted from behind.

"Lights out!"

You sigh at the command. "Yes madam!"

You don't bother packing up your drawing supplies, you'll be continuing with it tomorrow anyway, and the day after, probably. You find your bed and blow out the nearby candles.

Every night you can't help but wonder when your assignment and journey would begin. You had all sorts of feelings and questions about it, but every time you tried talking to Margot, she would give you answers that didn’t really answer anything at all, so you gave up on trying to figure it out a long time ago.

~

The next morning you’re awaken rudely by the guards coming into your room and practically dragging you out of bed in your dazed state.

"Wha- HEY-" you try to muster what’s going on, but before even getting a word out, you’re on your feet and Margot stands before you with her hands on her back.

"Morning lucky one. It’s time, the day we have waited long for is finally here," She's so serious in her delivery, it almost frightens you.

It’s happening.

"We’ve hired someone to transport you safely across the wasteland for your assigment, they’re here and won’t be kept waiting. Get ready in 5 and say your goodbyes, quickly."

Suddenly it feels like it’s all happening too fast, and a slight panic rise inside you. Margot must've notices your panicked stare, cause her features soften, and she steps closer to you.

"You’ve come so far, and I’m so proud of you,» She smiles at you with encouragement, "This is your moment, and I know you will succeed and make us all proud."

Her words give you enough to calm down before the panic escalated. And you give her a nod that you indeed got this. You can do this. You’ve done hard things before, this shouldn’t be any different.

"Yes madam," you say smiling back at her. She flashes you one last smile and a wink before turning and walking back out.

Outside you find everyone from your group waiting in the corridors. They smile at you, some coming to greet you, give you kisses on the cheek as you’re led out of the main building by the guards. It’s all a bit much, but this must be pretty big deal. Margot waits for you by the gate to your commune, but she's not alone. A dark figure stands just outside, looking impatient.

You’re filled with scepticism as you walk up them, but you have to put your trust in her. She notices you and takes a hold of your hands with a smile.

"You will do great," And the wave of panic that had a hold of you before, washes off of you completely. You nod confidently now, and you start believing that this is actually gonna be totally fine.

You feel the dark figure moving closer to you, his hat covering his face just enough to keep him anonymous for the time being. He still looks terrifying, but you have to trust this man is here only to protect you on your journey to Halfway, and that he will do his best to do so.

Margot shoots the man one last look, "Good condition," the man still doesn’t show his face, but he nods.

"Yes ma’am. Let’s go princess," You realize he’s talking to you, and you’re startled by the nickname at first, but you decide not to fuzz, at least not yet. He’s already started walking away, so you find yourself running up behind him, waving back to your leader for the last time, only she doesn’t wave back, she doesn’t even flash a smile. She stares back at you with a stern look as the gates to the commune come to a close.

It doesn’t give you the best feeling, but perhaps she was feelings sad you were leaving and didn’t want to show any emotions. Either way, you try to push the sight out of your mind, doing your best to follow the stranger. He doesn’t say a word for a long time, and you find that maybe it’s best we keep to ourselves for the time being, but as an hour or so go by, you find yourself a little curious.

You clear your throat, "Excuse me, sir?"

He doesn’t reply, but shoots a quick look over his shoulder to indicate that he’s listening.

"How long do you think we’ll be walking for?"

Given that Margot had given you absolutely no information about this journey, you figured it was worth a shot to ask your new strange companion.

"Couple’a days, if we don’t get sidetracked," His voice ragged, western, serious.

"Oh," not really sure if you dared asking for further details. You’d prefer to keep it peaceful for as long as possible, but you find the courage to ask anyway.

"Sidetracked by what?"

You hear him sigh, "Unnecessary bullshit."

‘Whatever that means’ you think to yourself. He doesn’t seem like the talkative type, but after months of isolation you find yourself rather desperate for someone to talk to, and if you are to spend days with this man, you figure it’s worth a shot trying to get to know him for whatever time you have to spend together.

"I see.. I’ll be on the lookout for that I suppose."

You can barely believe your ears when you hear a chuckle coming from the stranger in front of you.

After that positive feedback, you find yourself braver.

"I didn’t catch your name?"

His posture changes after the question left your mouth.

"I didn’t give to ya,"

"Well, I’m Y/N, but everyone calls me Lucky. It’s a bit of a recent nickname though. You see, I just spend 6 months in completely isolation-"

You get cut off abruptly when you find yourself crashing into the strangers back, realizing he's come to an complete halt. He turns around, his figure towering slightly over you. His hat is no longer doing it’s job to cover his face, and utter horror washes over you as it's fully visable in the golden hour light.

"Listen sweetheart, I’m here to do this goddamn job. I don’t wanna hear your whole life story, and you sure as hell won’t be hearing mine. How about we keep our histories to ourselves and try to get this over with as quickly as fucking possible. That sound good to you?"

Your eyes aren’t able to leave his face. His sunken eyes, skin looking like it's been melted by the sun, an obvious nose missing. A ghoul, a ghoul is transporting you. You’ve not met a ghoul before, and those you’ve heard stories of have been grotesque. Fair enough they had been feral, but who’s to say this one won’t turn?

You get the gist of what he’s saying, and simply nod in agreement, not wanting to make this trip any more uncomfortable than it already is.

His eyes bore into your own, and he’s a lot closer than you’d prefer. For a second you think his eyes dart down to your lips before he turns around to keep walking, but that would be crazy, and very disturbing.

~

Nightfall comes fast, and you’re finding yourself worried for where you’ll be sleeping for the night. You really don’t wanna ask the ghoul, but your steps are getting shorter and slower, and you think the Ghoul have noticed cause he starts walking off track and leads you to a broken down abandoned house off the road.

"Stay here," he says before entering the house, gun up, ready to shoot. You do as he says and wait patiently for him to clear the coast. It doesn’t take long before you hear squealing and two shots being fired. You’re not sure whether to go in or run, but it doesn't matter anyway cause you freeze up completely in these situations. All you can do is hope that the ghoul knows what he's doing.

He comes back to the door a few minutes later, gesturing for you to come in, you’re hesitant, but you do. It's not like you have much of a choice anyway, "What was the shooting about?"

In his left hand he holds a dead radroach, and you find yourself wondering why he’s holding it. That's so fucking gross.

"You should be grateful. I got us some lunch the road," he says, flashing you a smirk. It's almost like he knew you’d be repulsed by it.

"Uhm, y’know what? I think I’m good, for the time being." You try to be nice, but you feel like you might not have a say in the matter. This might be the only food you get for a while.

"Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll make a fire and we’ll put it on the grill."

You want to roll your eyes and complain, but you force yourself to give him a smile and if anything, show some appreciation. He did in fact just catch you a meal.

You’re able to swallow some of the grilled radroach, but after the fresh foods you had grown accustomed to from your commune, you found this hard to stomach.

Nightfall has fallen completely now, and you’ve done your best to make a comfortable sleeping spot by the fire. The ghoul sits nearby keeping watch, and you find yourself very curious of his past and who he is, or who he used to be. Thinking back to his speech earlier about keeping your histories to yourselves reminds you not to ask, but he didn’t say anyting about asking about where you were going.

"What do you know about Halfway?" You watch him closely for any hints he migth give away, "Is it as grand as everyone makes it out to be?" You lay on your side, arm resting under your head.

He doesn’t look at you, eyes fixated on the fire. "How about you get some rest, alright?" he avoids your question. How annoying.

You turn to lay on your back with a puff of annoyance. «Nobody wants to tell me anything,"

"Maybe there's a reason for that."

You turn to look at him, his eyes still not meeting yours. "What is that supposed to mean?" By the sound of it, nothing good.

"Look it's not my job to inform you of shit, and if your leader wanted you to know, trust me darling, she would've told ya."

His eyes flicker up to look directly at yours this time, and it catches you off guard. Not knowing what else to say, you decide to turn to your side, away from him. This whole thing is giving you a really bad feeling.

You’re back on track the next day. Your legs sore from the day before. Having been in isolation for 6 months will do that to you, you guessed, but you'll manage.

The ghoul hasn't said a word yet today, and though you didn't exactly get the answers you were looking for last night, you refused to give up completely.

"What did Margot mean when she said good condition?"

He doesn’t answer, of course he doesn’t. You sigh,

"Look, I don’t mean to be annoying. Truly, I’d just like to know what is waiting for me. That’s all, and I really don't see the harm in that." Still nothing.

"Hey! It’s not kind to ignore someone when they're talking to y-" The ghoul quickly turns, a rope firm in his hands. Where did that come from? He grabs your hands, tying them together before you’re able to protest.

"Hey- what’re you doing!?" You look at him in disbelief, anger and panic all in one.

"Trust me, it’s for your own good," You laugh at that, yeah right. Before you’re able to mock him, he takes out a piece of cloth and wraps it around your head, specially over your mouth, and it's keeping you from saying what's on your mind. For a second you’re actually fearing for your life.

"Listen, gorgeous. We’re about to pass through some dangerous territory, and the people in these parts would do a lot to get their hands on a pretty litte thing like yourself. You follow my lead and keep your mouth shut, can you do that for me?"

You look for any lies in his eyes, but you genuinely believe him. It’s not like you can argue against him anyway, but you put your trust in him and give a nod in response.

You walk for a short while longer before you actually start seeing other people on your path. They seem rough around the edges. Hostile, but not aggressive, yet anyway. You walk past a few who seem to be intrigued, but not interested enough to take their chance at battle with the ghoul. That is until a few of them start gathering in front of you. Four men stand before your path, making it impossible to keep walking without confrontation.

"Gentlemen, how do you do?" The ghoul seems to do his best to keep it friendly, not wanting to create an unnecessary conflict with precious cargo at risk.

"What’ve you got for us ghoul?" As you observe, you can tell some of them are clearly on heavy combat inhancing chems, might be a harder fight if it comes down to it.

"Delivery, to Halfway. Can’t lose this one I’m afraid." He says it so confidently, completely standing his ground, but still keeping it non threatening. The men seem intrigued, and even exchange laughs between themselves. You wonder what they find so funny.

"That religious sacrifice place? What a lucky girl,"

"Seems like she’s up for a hell of a good time,"

"Fellas, if you don’t mind, we’re on a bit of a tight schedule," The ghoul tries to interrupt their 'friendly' chatter, but to no avail.

"They only take virgins up there don’t they? That’s like their whole point?" One of the guys ask the other three.

"Yeah, it’s some crazy religious cult. They torture them and impragnate them for like 10 years or something, or at least that’s what I’ve heard."

You freeze at their words. That can’t be it. That’s not what’s been told to you. They’re joking, making it up to scare you. It’s not true.

"Crazy rich though, you must be getting a lot of caps for this huh?" Suddenly their tone is not so friendly anymore, but the ghoul doesn’t budge. He keeps his hand on his holstered gun, the other holding the rope that binds your hands.

"Lucky for you, we’re not looking to take her off your hands. This time anyway," They laugh once more, patting the ghoul on his shoulder before walking off, letting you pass. He pulls on the rope to shake you out of your frozen state, and you jolst forward, trying to keep up with him. But you're disassociating, not paying a single mind to anything around you. You're too much in your head about what was just said, and you'd like to say you didn't believe a single word, but for some reason you do.

You keep walking in silence, time becomes irrelevant when you're all up in your head. You don’t notice the radstorm closing in, nor the rain that has already started pouring. If anything is in your favor, it's that you pass by a town with an abandoned pre-war hotel that offer a room for 100 caps a night. For whatever reason, the ghoul decides to do that for you. You don’t ask questions, you don't care to.

Soaked, shivering and your legs just barely keeping you up anymore, the ghoul places you down on the couch in the room given to you. You let him guide you, and for once, you're glad he doesn't have much to say. He lowers himself down in front of you and starts taking off the disgusting saliva soaked cloth from your mouth.

You wipe your mouth your hand, "Thank you."

He keeps his mouth shut and starts working on untying the rope from your hands. You watch him crouched before you, he's being gentle when removing the knots. A horrifying reminder of what you won't be experiencing at Halfway, if the men from earlier was telling the truth that is. This thought is what breaks you, and the tears start trickling down your tired face. There's no point holding it back anymore.

He's looking at you, so clearly trying to hide the concern on his face as he stands up and walks to the door.

"I’ll head down to the square to look for some food,"

Whatever.

Your silence is making him uncomfortable, so he leaves. You stay seated, replaying the words spoken between the men from earlier, over and over in your head.

Everyone you knew had made Halfway seem like such an amazing place. That you were lucky to be going, you were chosen. The thought makes you want to throw up.

You don’t register that the ghoul is back, fresh mutfruits placed in front of you on the coffee table, and though you are starving, you can’t bring yourself to even eat one.

"Eat," he says sternly. You just shake your head.

"M’not hungry," you sniffle, drying your tears with the palm of your hand.

"It’s not nice to lie, sweetheart. You haven’t had anything to eat since the damn radroach. Eat," He's trying to act concerned, but you don't believe it for a second. You scoff and look up to meet his eyes, and he’s looking right back at you, an annoyed expression on his face. You can’t believe this guy.

"Why do you care if I eat or not? Let me be," You're so tired, and all you want is to sleep. Gradually rising from the couch, you head towards the bed.

"Please," his plead makes you stop in your tracks.

"Please eat, you're really gonna need the strength," he seems desperate, almost.

You turn around to see him standing motionless by the coffee table, clearly attempting to compose himself.

"No," you're stern in your reply.

He's growing increasingly annoyed, angry even, because he knows he can't force you or harm you in any way.

"Whatever good condition means, I’m sure they'll be pleased as long as I’m alive, right?" Your voice gradually getting louder. "Being that their plan is to torture me for 10 years and all, they must have lots of stimpacks around to keep me alive enough to birth their whole next generation of psychos, don't you think?" Tears start falling.

"Don’t make me beg again," His eyes are shut, as if he's trying to block out your words, as if they affect him somehow. what a fucking joke.

"You’re so afraid you won’t get your paycheck. Well fuck you, and fuck the caps they’re paying you for this," you say it with so much pain and hatred, and you’re sure you’ll regret it later but you don’t have an inch of fuck to give at the moment.

Suddenly you see his angry features fall, and he catches himself in a cough. It's grotesque, and it seems to be getting worse with each one. He looks at you with disrepair, and you can tell he's struggling to catch his breath. You don't know what to do, but you're getting scared for him now. It looks horrifying, but before you're able to come to his aid, he scurries out the room.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. What just happened? A part of you wanted to run after him to make sure he was okay, but at the same time you wouldn't mind too much if he left and never came back. Shaking, you decide to tuck yourself into the left side of the bed. Trying not to think about how dirty it is, you curl yourself into a ball and cry out every last drop.

You’re never able to fall asleep, the tears just keep coming. You thought about running away, but knowing that the ghoul was getting paid a lot for this job, he would likely find you again in no time. What would be the point?

Your sobs are suddenly interrupted by the door opening, and you quiet yourself down to listen closely to every sound. The sound of the ghouls boots scraping the floor as he makes his way to the couch, his coat and gear getting thrown down on it. You decide to pretend that you’re already asleep as you hear him make his way to the bed. Feeling it dip slightly as he lay down in it.

But your cover is blown when you sniffle from the snot in your nose. You damn yourself as a sigh from the stranger fills the room, and you start feeling embarrassed about the way you treated him earlier. It’s not him you should be angry at, if anything it’s Margot and your group. The ghoul is just doing his job, to collect a price which he must need desperately, you can’t really blame him. He owes you nothing.

"Cooper," his raspy voice turned soft for a second.

"What?"

"My name is Cooper, some call me Coop. Whichever rolls of your tongue the best."

You feel awful now, "I’m sorry," Wiping away the tears and the snot to the best of your ability.

"For what sweetheart?" He sounds like he already knows what you’re apologising for, but decides to ask anyway for his own amusement.

"For cursing you out, it’s not your fault, and I shouldn’t blame you," You say, already feeling better for apologizing.

You both stay silent for a while, only sniffles from your nose filling the room. It’s embarrassing, you feel like such a child.

"C’mere darling," He says it in such a soft way. You can barely believe your ears. Looking over your shoulders you see him looking at you, only the dim light of a burning candle nearby to light your surroundings. He’s on his back, gesturing with his hand for you to lay in the crook of his arm. You contemplate it for a second, but it doesn’t take much convincing if you’re being honest. You’d take any form of comfort to make you forget this whole thing, even for just a night.

You turn around, inching closer under the sheets, finding a comfortble spot in the crook of his neck, your head resting on his arm. You’ve never been this close to someone except your mom when you were younger. It’s scary in a way, being this vulnerable and intimate with someone you barely know.

Your breaths are shallow, thoughts racing through your mind and it’s making your heart is beat so fast. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, his body doesn’t give anything away.

You lay like this for a while, just a few dry sniffles and breaths heard between you. You recognize the closeness of him.

But you want to get even closer. You want him wrapped around you and have him absorb your whole being. It may come from having learned that you have extreme trauma waiting for you, and you can’t help but want to experience something good and genuine before that.

Your breaths become heavier, deeper, and you feel yourself wanting something; wanting him. This could go terribly wrong, but what exactly do you have to lose? Fuck it. You push away the what if's and inch your face closer to Cooper’s neck, your hands find themselves carefully making their way to his chest. He doesn’t react, and from what you can tell, he doesn't seem to mind.

You see his breathing stop, and you’re feeling brave. So you test the waters, gently sliding your hand up to his chest, letting them glide across his shirt. While your lips carefully grace the rough skin on his neck. You hear him puff out the air he’s been holding in while curiously letting letting you wander, but he doesn’t seem to resist.

When he doesn’t stop you, it’s easy to find the courage to keep going. Your hand wanders further down his chest, stomach, but he catches your hand right before it reaches the hem of his pants.

"What do you think you’re doin'?" He doesn't sound disappointed, more so curious. You feel a bit embarrassed, but you stand your ground, like you've already stated, you’ve got nothing to lose.

"Please Coop," just a whisper in his ear, "Please show me what it’s meant to feel like", a plea, practically begging.

He can’t help but let out a low growl, obviously turned on by the thought. "I’m meant to deliver you as a virgin, sweetheart."

You want to cry again, a sob brewing deep in your throat. "Please, they won’t know- They won’t find out," Your lips find his neck again, leaving trails of kisses up to his jawline, tongue swirling along the rough surface. You never thought you would find yourself in this position 2 days ago, but here you were, begging for a bounty hunter, a ghoul, to take your virginity.

Lucky for you, he seems to be out of fucks to give and lets go of your hand after only a few seconds of thinking it over. You don’t hesitate to let your free hand go under his shirt to feel his skin. It’s so textured, but you don’t mind. You’ve never touched anyone this way before, there wasn't much to compare it to.

Your hand travel lower until it finds a buldge. Being that this is your first time being intimate with somone, you’re startled by the unfamiliarity of it at first. But it doesn't take you long to realize that you were the reason for his cock hardening, and that turned you on more than anything.

Cooper, who's been laying still for some time now, has clearly been contemplating if he should stop this whole ordeal or not. He wants to touch you so bad, show you how good he can make you feel. Have you shaking with pleasure because of him, but he seems to let you be in control for the time being. You didn't mind, and it gave you some reassurance that this wouldn't be rushed, nor that he would force you to do something you didn't want to.

Your hands are shaking at this point as you try to unbotton his pants, and Cooper can't help but to give you a hand in your already broken state. You’re eager, and waste no time removing your own.

"Get over here darlin'," he says with that gentle voice again, gesturing for you to straddle his hips. His length is exposed now, and you feel yourself getting nervous with anticipation. You find it hard to believe that he's gonna fit inside you, it seems impossible.

Yet, you gain the confidence to sit up and make your way across his lap. You're not sure where to sit specifically, but you want to study him further and therefore straddle his thighs. His cock in view in front of you, laid across his stomach, stiff and drooling. Cooper doesn't say anything, but he watches you carefully, wondering what your next move will be. You don't pay attention to him for now.

You do however find yourself curious, and grab the length in front of you. It's warm, and you circle a thumb across the top where it's drooling a clear liquid. You hear him hum under you, an approval of the gesture you just performed. Butterflies take over your stomach, and you feel throbbing in your lower area. You want his cock so desperately inside you now, just to hear those sounds from him again.

"Sit up for me'," the gruffness of his voice draws your attention to him. You obliged without hesitation, "Scoot closer," and you do, of course you do.

He stretches a hand down between your thigs and you're on your knees straddling his hips. Rough fingers run between your folds and they run smoothly.

"Well fuck me, you really want this huh?" He's teasing you now. You nod frantically.

"Use your words sweetheart," He inserts a finger in your untouched hole. You gulp at the sensation, "Yes- yes I do-".

He hums again, moving the finger inside you, bending and stroking. It feels strange, but not painful. "I know you do honey, but I need to make sure you can handle me first, alright?"

You nod frantically, you knew already that you were prepared to do anything he wanted. "Yes, sir,"

Without warning he adds another finger, and it's starting to sting a little. You try to control your breathing as he starts moving them in and out of you, "I know it hurts baby, but it's only for a lil while. You trust me, don't you?"

You nod again, "Yes- Fuck!" He was getting agressive with it now, but he's hitting a spot you didn't know existed and it's sending you to other dimensions in your mind. Your eyes are rolling back while his fingers work hard between your thighs. It's unlike anything you've felt before.

"There we go.. You're gonna be so good for me aren't you, princess?" His words barely register as you find yourself gripping his arm and holding on for dare life to not lose your balance.

"Mhm- y- yes," and before you knew it, his hand is removed from between your folds and you're left heaving for your breath and trying to focus your vision again.

"I think you know what to do, darlin'," You need him badly now, even more now that you know what pleasures are waiting.

You place yourself over his cock, and Cooper watches in patiently as he puts his hands on your thighs, stroking them gently.

You grab his length and place it under your opening, ready to lower yourself on him. "Slow now," he warns as you as his tip meets your entrance, before letting it slip in just an inch. You both hiss, him with pleasure, you with pain.

"That’s it, doll," He keeps his eyes on you as you wince in pain. Taking deep breaths as your hole adjusts itself to his full size, but you’re feeling impatient and start pushing yourself even further despite the burning sensation. You figure it’s better to get it over with as fast as possible so you can actually start enjoying this.

Cooper hums, "Patience sweetheart," you lock eyes with him, and he genuinely seems to care. He lets you have complete control over this, not pushing any limits, and it makes you feel even more aroused, being in charge; seeing his eyes roll back with edged pleasure, yet doing nothing to force his way in.

You feel comfortable enough to start moving now, and you do your best not to squeal when you feel it burn and sting. Finally your skin touch, your ass gracing his thighs, and though it’s still stinging a bit, you can feel his whole length inside you, and it drives you mad.

"Just like that, princess," You hear his soft grunts below, and it reminds you to start moving. Slowly easing yourself off him, just to lower back down again, trying to find the right pace and angle for it to hit the right spot. It doesn't take long before you feel Cooper bucking his hips just ever so slightly to help you out, and he does. He knew exactly how to thurst his cock to give you the extreme pleasure you were searching for.

"More- please," you moan, your hands find his chest to lean on. Nails digging into his already ragged skin.

"God, you feel so fuckin' good around me, darling," His hips buck into you again, pulling himself almost all the way out before slamming himself back inside you. It's rough, and his hands have found your ass to grab to help move you to his rhythm. You're dazed, eyes barely open from sheer pleasure radiating deep inside you. It's making your breath hitched, and your moans spurt out in cries.

"My- fuckn'- god-" you struggle to draw a proper breath, your vision is blurred and rolled back, barely open.

He’s grunting with pleasure beneath you, seeing you completely lost to the way his cock fills your tight cunt, the next time rougher than last. You both sense that you're getting closer to an edge, and that’s when you realize how lightheaded you are, probably from the lack of food you’ve had today, and Coop notices how your figure slowly droops with exhaustion.

"Woah easy darling-" You feel him sit up under you, and without much effort he sits up and holds you tight to his chest, flipping you over on your back in a swift motion.

You would act surprised, but you’re too lightheaded and close to a climax that you don’t react at all. You feel his head in the crook of your neck, breathing heavy and groaning into your ear as he pushes himself deep and steady inside you. Your moans are soft, almost silent, barely there, not enough energy to show him how good he’s making you feel. But you think he gets it, if anything he can see it in how your eyes roll back, how flushed your cheeks are, and feel how your walls are squeezing tightly around him.

"You gonna be a good girl and finish all over my cock, princess?" You feel a hand reach under your chin, placed firmy on your throat, a tight squeeze is applied as you feel his hot breath on your cheek. Sloppy kisses, and a traveling tongue, licking off all your sweat and tears. Having him so near and in control of your breathing makes you feel unbelievably hot. He could kill you right now, right at your high, and you wouldn't mind at all.

"I think I'm- Coop I'm gonna-," you’re whisper in his ear, and it only fuels him more.

He lifts your leg higher, hooking it over his free arm as he goes even deeper. "Show me how fuckin' good I make you feel, sweetheart,"

And with that you think you’re about to pass out, but instead you’re hit with the intense feeling of something combursting inside you. Your head slams back, and your hands reach up to grab the headboard of the bed, your knuckles turning white from the grip. You're dazed, exhausted, feeling the lingering pleasure from your orgasm still present inside your throbbing cunt. Cooper helps you ride out the orgasm in a slower pace while coming up close to his own.

"There you go doll, it's all right," His hand leaves your throat and he unhooks your leg to find your waist, placing them on each side. He's leaning back on his knees as he pumps himself into you, softly, slowly. Soft groans leaves his lips in heavy and hitched breaths as he gets closer.

Seeing you so beautifully dishevelled and limp beneath him, he starts guiding your exhausted body with his hands, pulling you onto his cock, using it to finish himself off. You allow him, cause you enjoy watching him his chest rise with every breath he takes. His eyes rolling back with pleasure from feeling your walls pulsate with each thrust, and with one last squeeze from you, he reaches his own climax.

His hands are grabbing your waist so tightly you can feel the bruises forming already, but all you can focus on is his heaving chest, and his exposed throat as his head is thrown back. Soft grunts and curses filling the room, and you imagine his eyes closed with painfully pleasurable bliss, all caused by you.

He rides out his own orgasm and tries to settle his breathing before he lifts himself off you. He doesn't look at you, but climbs tiredly out of the bed to readjust his clothing. You’re so sleepy, greasy, smelly, but you don't care. You're high, and happy.

You watch him at the edge of the bed, and you utter a soft 'Thank you', just to let him know you're grateful for risking the success of the job. You were meant to be delivered as a virgin after all.

You hear him chuckle from the foot of the bed, you guessed he’d never gotten a ‘thank you for fucking me’ from anybody before, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

"Close your eyes and get some sleep, alright?" Hell, he doesn’t need to tell you twice.

"I think that’s a good idea," You’re not really sure if the words ever left your mouth, being that you’re practically half asleep already. But you do notice the bed dipping slightly next to you, and how you’re gently being pushed on your side. Followed by something warm pressed up against your back, and gentle kisses being placed along your exposed neck.

What tomorrow brings doesn't matter in this moment.

Part 2?

[blueparadis]

❝ HONEY D[R]IPS ❞ + AL-HAITHAM

+. CWs —» fem!sub!reader x service dom!al-haitham; virginity kink, size kink, praising,edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, marking, oral act. word count — 1kish.

+. PRECIS —» al-haitham never imagined he can be tamed by a fragile creature like you.

+. NOTES —» there is a little bit of kaveh x reader & also al-haitham x kaveh cuz i refuse to seperate them. I'm in love their ‘chaos in the calm’ dynamic. totally not losing mind over him && you can read my works via NAVIGATION LINKS.

Fragile; that was the word that flashed through his mind when al-haitham first laid his eyes on you as you walked into his life like a dashing wave on a lonely shore wrecking havoc in his mind, body, and soul.

Al-haitham hated it; the unknown feeling amongst his ribcage that made him hear his heartbeats loud and clear, even in the hubbub of a crowd. He is a man of few words unless Kaveh isn't around. Somehow Kaveh manages to create ripples of annoyance in his peaceful mind and it weathers his patience, day by day.

On the other hand, Kaveh tries his best to avoid getting so worked up upon Al-haitham's stimulation yet he can not seem to turn a blind eye to the fact that al-haitham is undeniably quiet in her presence, in your presence. Kaveh was delighted to find out that at least once, he could have the upper hand if al-haitham were to really disrespect him, or hurt his feelings. It did not turn out as he thought it would be.

When Kaveh noticed that Al-haitham's emerald eyes were not on the book's rusty pages but peeking through the book's frame, lips twisting and occasionally turning whenever you are about to leave his sight he knew he could not use this as his wild card but watching him like this is more agonizing than getting yelled at by him. 

“Quit staring. it’s creepy.”, Kaveh uttered slamming the book on the table to gain his roommate’s attention. Al-haitham’s eyes shifted from her to his senior, as he whispered, “I wasn’t”, like a lovesick fool. At that moment, Kaveh knew he was hopeless. Not only he flat-out denied his fondness for her but also refused to act. “Guess it’s the other way ‘round”, he hisses before beckoning her in his direction shouting her name from the bottom of his lungs in the library. What an incredible idea to get her attention!

Al-haitham thinks his life hasn’t been livelier before. Watching you talk with his not-so-cool senior, and hearing your giggles, complaints, and tantrums was more than he could ask for. It did not bother him how you were always like a blooming flower around Kaveh. As for Kaveh, he would not go that far as having you as Al-haitham wants. He is satisfied just getting al-haitham worked up once in a while but after a few attempts, Al-haitham got used to it.

What he was not used to is you, your innocence around him, the unalloyed conscience. It drove him insane so much so that he started to observe you more, thinking about the minute details about you like would there be any mole like the one near her chin? Does she always wear light-colored clothes? Is her nipples same the color as her lips? how would she look underneath him, naked and . . .

It has been days since he started to think of you, in a very particular way, thought of getting close to you, and discarded the habit of staring at you through the frame of the book. He was tempted to touch himself, to relieve himself from this ache but he wanted to be over once and for all, not in installments, not in the dead of night jacking off in the bathroom.

And now, here you were underneath him, just like he imagined. 

Beads of perspiration sedimented at the lining of his forehead, fingertips being rigid, heart beating like drums, and all because his cock would not fit in your pussy. He has eaten you out for hours, tasted you to the very core, fondled your boobs till you were moaning loudly, shamelessly, sucked and bit your pebbled nipples until they were bruised and yet it was not enough. 

every time you were screaming, telling him to stop fingering you he would not. “You’re about to cum angel.”, he mentioned, eyes focused on ready to pull out the moment your legs give up to hold them apart again that are craving to shut close as to submerge in the euphoric high; so that he would have you creaming on his cock rather than his fingers. 

Tears like raindrops accumulate at the corner of your eyes as he tries to push his fat cock inside you and then retreats thinking he might hurt you as you lay blanking out, reflexively playing with your boobs, biting your bottom lip, whimpering, “so..sorry.”, as he brushes the tip of his cock up and down, over your pussy lips.

He shushes, leaning to kiss those bruised swollen lips murmuring, “shhh…shhsh angel. Just relax for me, yea? Can you do that?” you nod anticipating what is going to happen next, curling your arms around his shoulders as he adds in further, “tell me if it hurts. i’ll  stop ‘kay?”

“Um-hm”

He aligns the cock to your entrance and as he had your eyes on him, he pushes his cock in with a single broad thrust making your arms instantly fly back over your head gripping the edge of the pillow, wincing in pain, and gasping at the feeling of being full. He grits his teeth feeling the warmth of your gummy walls and sheathing his cock, halfway through.

“It..hu..hurts���”, you blurt out, eyes squeezing shut, body arching and suddenly feeling more full than before. 

“Want me to … to pull out?”, he asks exhaustively grazing the tip of his nose against your neckline. You pull him into a kiss bucking your hips up trying to take him all in and then gasping as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix.

Al-haitham watches you meticulously: eyes rolling white you squirm underneath him sensing a knot in your belly button that is slowly building up its moment as you adjust to his girth. “Yo’r so good for me, angel.”, starting to kiss along your glistening neckline. He is relishing the feeling of being inside you. Finally, he is fucking that pussy that has been driving him crazy for days. How can it be over just a few minutes? 

—

@tokyometronetwork.

[erenjaegerwifee]

Brat Tamer

Survive the Night: Day 4

Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: MINOR DNI 18+ hate fucking, mentions of alcohol, jealousy, degradation, rough sex, explicit language, fingering, p in v, overstimulation, bondage, slightly jealous Neteyam, begging, slapping, spitting, blowjob, marking, mentions of blood, facial, this is consensual sex! It’s just very rough

Word Count: 5.4k

Disclaimer: all my characters are aged-up! If for whatever reason this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read my work. Any negative feedback will be blocked from my page. thank you!

Event Masterlist

“Oh, please Neteyam spear me” you roll your eyes at your future mate. For some reason Eywa thought it would be a good idea to make Tsahik conjure up a vision of you and Neteyam being a mated couple a ruling the clan together, with all your non-existent babies, apparently the number is yet to be determined.

“Can you just back off and let me hunt princess? I’m more than capable of feeding a psycho shrew such as yourself” he said condescendingly. “You are so fucking full of yourself; we could have been eating an hour ago if you didn't scare away my prey with your fucking wheezing”  

“You whacked me in the stomach with your bow what the fuck were you expecting me to do” his comment makes you laugh at the memory, “it’s not my fault you're a bitch, take that shit up with your daddy” you smile at him wickedly when Lo’ak spoke up, “damn just fuck already, end your misery” he said to both of us. 

“Shut up Lo’ak go home, you aren’t even helping” Neteyam said to his brother while you were making fake gagging sounds at his comment, “yuck- I don’t want this man anywhere near me, let alone fucking me” you gag again making Lo’ak laugh. “You know, you talk a big game for someone who has never seen a dick” Neteyam looks directly at you. 

You turn around looking for whoever he’s talking to with such audacity, settling with the fact he must be talking to himself, “are you calling me a virgin? Cause I can assure you I’ve had hotter sex than you that’s for sure” you cross your arms over your chest looking at him smugly.  

“How do you know I don’t have hot sex princess?” Neteyam copies your action crossing his own arms over his chest. “Uhm well let’s see, firstly I don’t think it's possible to have good sex when you have a stick that big up your ass and also, you’ve never fucked me” you flip your hair over your shoulder sassily.  

“Whatever you pompous bitch” Neteyam walks off bow in hand with every intention of catching your dinner. “You are such a fucking goblin” you tail behind him leaving Lo’ak laughing on the floor.  

Lo’ak isn’t the only person who catches kicks off your misery. The entire Sully family laugh at you from time to time. They have a front seat row to the drama that is you and Neteyam. When your mate ship was announced both your families joint together to build you a hut, the first hut you will be living in together. Since it is a known fact you are always at each other’s throats, they built it right next to the Sully family hut. But it was only in case they had to break up one of your numerous fights. The sully family tends to hear everything that goes on in your hut, every small argument you have, every altercation that turns into a screaming match between you too. 

You and Neteyam sleeping on same sleeping mat but he made sure it was big enough so you won’t have to touch each other, even going as far as to build a pillow wall. Even while your families both know you don’t get along, the rest of the clan, besides close friends, do not know. They are well under the impression you and Neteyam are very much in love, we couldn’t have the clan losing trust in the leadership, it would just be another problem. It’s one of the only things you both agree on.  

Clan members have been congratulating you both since the announcement, they bring loads of gifts like things for your hut, some of the older women have taught you to make things for our future husband, teaching you how to repair his arm guards and cummerbund, making loincloths, which sometimes you do occasionally have to do. They even go as far to bring you both food. 

Neteyam is set to take up the mantle of Olo’eyktan in 3 months which is when you will also ascend to Tsahik alongside him. You are meant to be mated before that happens which is why you’ve already moved in together; you are meant to get used to living with each other to avoid slip ups.  

For something that was sprung on both families, they have done extensive planning to make sure you become accustom with each other, almost as if they expected it. Never the less, you both have now settled into a routine of sorts. You both wake up around the same time and you make breakfast or one tired morning, go to the sully hut and you eat there. Then You get ready for you clan duties all done while bickering with each other about small things like usually. After that you both go out into the clan playing happy couple. 

At dinner time you usually are the one to cook whatever he brings home from his hunt during the day. If neteyam wasn’t so infuriating you would have thought about how domestic it was, how much you would have loved a life like this. A loving husband, a few kids. 

“You what, if you would just sit still for a few minutes, I could catch us some fucking dinner” neteyam says in an irritated tone. “Don’t curse on my dinner I have to eat it” You counter, “No sweetheart the real curse is eating your cooking” you gasp dramatically at him comment, your hands come over your heart, “you love my cooking you blue ape, don’t fucking lie.” you point at him. 

“Can you just sit here and shut the fuck up so we can go home, I’m about to leave your annoying ass out here and spend the night at my parents” he rolls his eyes at you, ignoring your cooking comment because he knows you’re right. “UGHH FINE” you dramatically drop down on the rock that was conveniently situated behind you.  

“Ugh fine” he mocks you sassily his voice is pitched and his hands sway in the air as he turns around making you roll your eyes. You wouldn’t tell him this, but neteyam is a good hunter, it shouldn’t take him that long to catch dinner. In the mean time you sit quietly on the rock making flower crowns from the nearby flower tree.  

When he comes back you both go home and you make dinner, “It’s kind of early can’t we just eat after the party?” you ask him after you are done cooking. “No, the food will get cold” you sigh not feeling to flight with him about it and you bicker about what you should wear for Lo’ak’s birthday party.  

At the party you and Neteyam split up to mingle with your respective friends and not have to deal with each other all night long, you dance and laugh while slipping from your cup of very strong alcohol. When you start to feel high you get a tap on your shoulder making you turn around.  

“Hey y/n where is your husband?” you make eye contact with one of Neteyam’s hunting buddies, At’ok. “Hey um I don’t know he was around here somewhere” you shrug thinking he was just looking for Neteyam. Your future mate has grown to dislike the man quite a bit with the way he constantly stares at you, under no condition is he admitting to liking you but at the end of the day, you will be his wife and its naturally disrespectful for him to try getting with another man’s girl. 

“Oh, good cool- you wanna dance?” you know he likes you; you also know Neteyam doesn't like him, it’s a win-win situation. What is neteyam gonna do? Divorce you? You aren’t mated yet and he’ll have to take that up with Eywa first which is essentially impossible. “Sure” you smile brightly at him. 

You grab ahold of his hand and move towards the other dancing na’vi, you sway your hips against him and his arms wraps around you swaying in sync. He turns you around and you throw your hands over his shoulders and that’s when you feel the burning stare. You know it all too well, you have experienced this too much times to not know. You pay no mind to him though as you listen to at’ok whisper how beautiful you look in your ear making you giggle and smile at him.  

If Neteyam treated you half as good as this, it wouldn’t be so difficult to live with him, you could make a lot of things in his life easier if he’d just be a little nicer to you, but apparently you are so hard to get along with, the woman who makes sure he has clean clothes and his warrior gear is intact, who cooks for him and cleans his living space. You are so fucking hard to live with.  

His hand moved down while he leaned back a bit closer to your lips and tilted his head as if he was gonna come in closer, his hand slid down your back and rested lowly on your hips. You wanted to kiss him honestly, but you got interrupted by a harsh tug on you bicep, pulling you away from At’ok’s warmth.  

“You don’t have any fucking shame, do you? The next time I see your hands on my wife- the next time you even look in her direction I'll fucking kill you” Neteyam’s voice was deadly calm, it made shivers run down your spine at how scary he sounded, but you would show no weakness. As soon as he was dragging you in the direction of your shared hut you started throwing a hissy fit, “What the fuck Neteyam we were dancing-”  

“Dancing?! You were dancing with someone who isn’t your fucking husband like that? Of please y/n” you rip your arm from his grasp, “what the fuck is your problem-” he didn’t wait for you to finish he just interrupted you again. “You, you are my fucking problem, I thought we agreed, the best interest for the clan is you stay in your fucking lane as my wife and I stay in mine as your husband”  

“You are not my husband yet and-”  

“Three weeks, just three more weeks you couldn’t keep your legs closed three more weeks? Then after that I knock you up and you could fuck whoever you want. We only need one” His voice sounds stranded, Neteyam has been pissed off before but even you have never managed to make him this mad.  

“Jeez everything is not about you and what you want! Maybe I miss having sex! Maybe I’m horny and I wanna have some relief! Did you ever even considered the possibility that I don’t want to have to wait anymore? It's been months since the last time I felt a man and it’s all your fault!” you shout at him.  

“You are such a slut you couldn’t wait a couple fucking weeks? You don’t think I feel the same way? Have some fucking self-control! Why should you get to fuck anything that walks while I have to stay loyal and be content with nothing?!” he shouted back to you in the same tone, truthfully it made you kind of turned on the way he spoke to you but your irritation outweighs that right now. 

“I have been loyal you asshole, I haven’t let anyone near me in months! Besides I've been so fucking tired making you sure have properly cooked food and that YOUR hut is cleaned and that YOU LOOK PRESENTABLE WHEN YOU GO OUT IN PUBLIC! And this- THIS is what I get for it? I’m a slut?” your tail thrashes around as you scream at him, your hands push his body backwards and you yank on the braid that falls over his ear in front his face. 

What you don’t expect after your outburst is Neteyam’s smug laughter filling your ears. You look up at his face seeing his head thrown back and his shoulders shaking. He suddenly bends his body forwards resting his hands on his knees holding himself up as he laughs. 

“What’s so fucking funny?” you tail twitches angrily your arms crossed over your chest pushing up your tits slightly. His laughter dies down and his head raises to look at you, a smug smirk sits on his face. 

“Nothing, it’s just- you are so fucking difficult to please. Eywa could have given me anyone, ANYONE in this ENTIRE clan. But she chooses you? The cock hungry slut that can’t even be bothered to say thank you after all the effort I put in to make this mate ship work. All you want is to fuck! You know if you wanted cock so bad, you should have just fucking asked for it” his voices drop a couple octaves when says his last sentence.  

You were about to protest but get cut off by him grabbing your bicep harshly once more, pulling you towards your hut, “Ah ah- shut the fuck up I don’t need to hear more” he continues to cut you off until you are at your door step where he opens up the flap widely and shoves you in, you stumble but catch yourself before you fall.  

“Neteyam what the hell-” his large hand met the back of your neck easily, putting pressure on your kuru while pulling you straight up to stabilize you. “You know, you look real pretty tonight, this the one I made you” he toyed with the flowers hanging from the rope of your top. Frankly, you feel a bit nervous of what he might do right now, opting to not sass him, he’s never been this rough with you, or at all so you simply nod your head.  

“You have been such a pain in my ass since I could remember and now, you’re gonna be my wife. Looks like I’ll have to teach you some manners,” Neteyam lets go of your neck and closing the flap behind him and taking off his cummerbund and arm guards. “Take it off.” His voice is deep, makes you shiver.  

You stand still not sure if you should listen to him or not, you really did it today huh? “Don’t make me come over there” he says glancing at you as he puts away his stuff neatly. He stretches his muscular arms and broad shoulder while he watches you still not move at all.  

“Y/n why don’t you ever just listen, I'm giving you what you want and you listen won’t listen to me!” His voice sounds stranded once more as he tries to get through to you. He sighs before walking up to you a ripping the top off your body. It was one of your prettier tops so it made you upset when he ruined it, you watch the pretty petals fall to the floor exposing you. 

You gasp and brought your hands up to cover your chest, you tail twitches as you look towards him angrily, “Neteyam what the hell I actually liked that top, probably the only thing you ever did that I-” his large palm slaps over your mouth, “shut up” his voice is so calm as if he’s used to doing things this. 

Honestly, this approach he is taking with you is turning you on so much, you didn’t think he had it in him. You bite his hand and he rips it away from your mouth, “what do you even think you are about to give me here? Have you ever even made a woman cum? Do you know what to you? I was under the impression you liked men considering the stick up your ass in snug in there.”  

“You are about to regret your words you slutty bitch” he mumbles to you when he rips your loincloths off your body forcefully making you stumble forward. Eywa don’t let this man see how mess in between your legs look it’ll be over for you. “Neteya-”  

“No.” he pushes your body down on the sleeping mat that is adorn with comfortable blankets and pillows you both made. “You need to learn to shut the fuck up and listen sometimes, I’m sick of your shit. You want to get dicked down fine” he doesn’t give you a minute to protest when he's immediately on top of you tying your hands to the bedhead, he made to go behind your sleeping mat using soft pieces of cloth, it was such a pretty pattern to you know he spent a lot of him on yet, you never imagined he’d use it like this.  

“Neteyam-” he cuts you off again, “there you go saying my name again, don’t worry you won't remember anything else when I’m done with you.” he smiles down at you obnoxiously. He doesn’t even wait a second before he grabs your thighs spreading them wide and pinning them to your chest. “Oh Eywa, sweetheart, look how wet.” he smiles wickedly at you, “Did I do this or that little hunter boy you were dancing with huh?” his smile never falters as he takes in your blushing expression.  

“Well, it doesn’t really matter does it? I get to play with it.” You wank on the restraints keeping you still but it only tightens the knot, you can practically feel the marks it will leave on your wrist. When he removes one hand from your thighs you instinctively shut them closed trapping his hands inside, you should have known that wouldn’t work, Neteyam physically much stronger than you are. 

His hands push your thighs apart harshly and he slaps his heavy hand on your thigh cruelly making you wail out at the sting, “Don’t fucking close it” his voice was steady even with your whimpering. You don’t make the mistake of closing them again when he removes his hand once more, dragging one of his long fingers slowly up your folds to your clit. The feeling makes you mellow softly, you lips parted and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were even holding. 

Neteyam brought his finger up to his mouth watching it drop slick on the bedding and put it in his mouth humming at the taste, “I have to say sweetheart I wasn’t expecting you to taste so sweet, I thought you’d be sourer you know... cause you’re a sour bitch, but my, y/n you taste like utumauti (banana fruit).” Your eyes roll at his comment but you can’t find yourself uttering words when he continues his action. 

Without warning he inserts a finger into you, his face is so close to your intimate area you can feel his breath on your clit as he watches your cunt suck in his finger when he’s pulling it back out. He repeats the cycle going faster before adding another finger, your eyes are shut now as he fingers you at a moderate pace, but it still feels amazing. “I can feel you sucking me in, gonna cum on my fingers evenge (girl)?” he speaks out glancing at your flash face. Your lip is trapped between your teeth as you watch his arm flex when he thrust in and out of you. When he curls his finger hitting your sweet spot you mewl loudly and throw your head back, resting it on his fluffy pillow.  

His scent invades your nose as you start to lose your senses coming on his fingers. You try to muffle your noises not wanting to give him any kind of complex. “Awe, look at you trying to be quiet. You don’t want me to hear those noises huh? I guess I’ll have to coax them out.” he fakes disappointment pouting his bottom lip out for you as he curls his fingers again pressing down on your sweet spot and he does this over and over and over again. 

You can no longer hold in your moans at his movements and he speeds up making you tense your legs up. You release on his hand with a loud whimper you try to shut your legs to make him stop his movements, Neteyam doesn’t falter he open pries your legs back open and delivers another harsh slap to your other thigh, “You just don’t listen huh” he delivers another, then another one slapping both your inner thighs.  

“Neteyam please stopp” water wields up in your eyes as you take his rough, heavy slaps to your skin. “You know, you came without permission, what should we do about it slut?” he slaps you again completely ignoring you pleads. Your thighs are turning red from the abuse but he doesn’t care. His fingers speed up their pace inside you and you feel like you are seeing stars, “Neteyam-” you whimper as you try to squirm away from his hands. 

“Yea sweetheart? I thought you said I couldn’t make you come?” his tone is condescending when he speaks to you. The overstimulation makes you roll your eyes back, your face flushes deep purple and you bite your lip. “I take it back-” you whimper to him. “Aw, I’m afraid it’s a bit too late for that now you wanted this didn’t you? You wanted a man to touch you like this. You got it.”  

You glimpse at his figure in front of you. He’s having so much fun teasing and touching you, you can see the way he enjoys watching you come undone for him, “All this just for me huh? Just imagine you wanted At’ok to be the one touching you, instead of me? Your husband. You think he could make you feel half as good as this? The answer is no.” Neteyam uses his other hand to push his body up and over yours, his hand moves to graze your nipples that harden a while ago being left untouched. 

“Such a little slut. Fuck” neteyam pinches your nipples roughly, feeling your cunt pulse around his fingers he knows you want to cum again but he’s not giving in so easily this time. “You’re gonna cum” he says, he’s not even questioning you, like he’s done this a million times, he just knows. You don’t deny it nodding your head vigorously, “wanna cum yea” you whimper 

“Beg.” his voice is stern, he slows his movements a bit, “No fuck you” you bite back. “Oh, then I guess you won’t be cumming tonight” Neteyam voice sounds innocent but his face tells you an entirely different story, he wants you to give him, he’s just waiting for you to roll over and beg for him. His fingers slowly retract from your pussy and the emptiness drives you crazy, “wait!” you shout accidently pulling on the restraints.  

“Please?” you mumble so softly he almost didn’t catch it, “What was that sweetheart?” his head leans in tilting his ear towards your mouth, his fingers still inside you half way in, half way out. “Please neteyam..”  

He chuckles at you, “feeling shy? Speak up please what?” he eggs on, “Please let me cum” he tries to hold in the satisfied smile making its way to his face, “one more time let me hear it, please what?” he urges you to speak louder, “PLEASE NETEYAM! LET ME CUM!” your eyes are glassy when you scream. You want it so bad you can barely think.  

“There it is, that wasn’t so fucking hard was it, all you had to do was ask nicely whore” his smile is wicked when he calls you that, he watches your face bubble up in anger before he continues his ferocious pace. You feel like you melt down into a puddle when you cum on his fingers with a loud scream of his name. You didn’t mean for it to happen but it certainly did, you are sure if someone was around your hut they would have heard you screaming out for you mate. 

Neteyam laughs wickedly when he pulls away from your body. The hand that was previously inside you comes up to your face and he smears your wetness onto your skin as he cups for face. “You gonna fucking listen now if I untie you?” 

“I always listen Net-” he cuts you off with a harsh slap using the same hand, right across your face whipping your head to the side. His grip comes back, “I didn’t ask for back talk you dirty whore, I asked if you were gonna listen” you mumble something under your breath that he couldn’t quite catch making him smack you across the face again. For what felt like the thousandth time, he made your eyes tear up. You decided against answering and just nodded your head, big mistake. His heavy hand comes down once more on your face and before he can utter any words you scream out to make him stop, “yes- fuck yes, I’ll listen”  

Neteyam smiles victoriously at you, and reaches his free hand up to rip the restraints off you. You could try to fight him, but you have no energy to even move properly. You were under the impression he got his point across, and that he was done, but you were in for a rude awakening. He moves off of you grabbing the hair on the top of your head roughly and pulling you onto your stomach, you whimper at the pain.  

When he lets you go his roughly pulls you up on all fours, and you raise your head to see his positioned you in front of the mirror he got for your hut. “Oh no” the thought ran through your head, you take in your form; half of your face is red from his slaps, you can see your red thighs. Your bottom lip swollen from biting down on it.  

“Oh, but yes, were not done” you must have said it out loud and not even realized, when your eyes shift to his form looming over you, his head is right next to yours, his loincloth has been discarded and he was stroking himself behind you. You couldn’t see his cock from this angle so you drop your head down to the mat, your chin touched the floor and you looked in through the mirror directly as his dick, you watch him stroke his incredibly long and thick length, your eyes widen as you wonder how the fuck that was about to fit inside you, you have never taken anything so big before, how does he even hide that thing? 

Neteyam notes your expression easily and raises up highly to give you a better view. When his tip presses at your overstimulated clit you raise your head up and shook a ‘no’ quickly pulling your body away from him. “Don’t run, you were cursing breeze about an hour ago about how horny you were, and how much you wanted another man to touch you” he pulls you back roughly, dragging your bent over form closer to him and you felt his tip pushing against you once more. 

“I’m going to have to teach you who this pussy belongs too” he pushes in this time without warning and you feel his length stretch you out, your mouth makes an o shape but not sound comes out as you take him in. You didn’t even know it was possible that to fit in you, but then again you never thought you would be fucking this man so things change. 

“Eywa you are such a slutty doll, watch yourself fall apart on my cock, and I just stuck it in.” he doesn’t give you any time to adjust, he just starts pounding into you. You cream on his cock while he’s thrusting, he fucks you so good, it’s like Eywa made his cock especially for your cunt. When you are almost coming for the third time, he pulls out of you leaving you untouched. 

Your eyes shoot up to look at him threw the mirror and you find him already staring at you, “Who’s making you cum sweetheart?” he asks you in a sickeningly sweet voice, “No one, I’m not coming you pulled out. What, can’t keep up with me?” you feel upset at his action making you manifest an attitude. His hand comes down smacking your ass, your tail whips when your feel the fat ripple, “What?” when you done answer he smacks the other cheek of your ass making you whimper, “nothing...” you said softly, but loud enough for him to hear.  

“Sweetheart you always make things hard for yourself” smack. “Why can’t you just be a good little wife” smack. “You didn’t answer my question yet” smack. “Who’s making you come slut?” smack. Smack. Smack.  

Neteyam thoroughly enjoys spanking you like you were a naughty child. He didn’t stop until he heard you small words, “You, you’re making me come please?” you push your ass back into his dick feeling the tip slip down and slap your slit making you jump. He catches you off guard when he pushes back in fucking you with the same vigor ask before, making you drop your face down to the mat  

“Now tell me who’s making you come?” his right hand comes around to your neck and pulls you up choking you. Your lips part as you exhale with every thrust he delivers, “Y-you” you stutter out, “Say my name whore come on” his face comes down next to yours and his hand moves from your neck to your face, squishing your cheeks between his fingers, his head comes down to the junction of your neck and face and sucks harshly on the skin. 

Neteyam leave dark purple marks all over your neck then he feels your cunt clenching down on his cock, “Gonna cum?” he whispers to you. You can barely form coherent words but you do manage to hm out a “mhmmmm.” his hand that is holding your face smacks it lightly a couple times, “Is that how you ask?” he questions, his pace never faltering, “Pul-lease Net-teyam!” your teeth are clenched as you whimper and moan at the amazing feeling of his cock dragging along your walls.  

“Such a quick learner come on slut, come on my cock” his words send you over the edge coming on command, your orgasm is intensified by the feeling of his teeth digging into your neck, he’s biting you, marking you, Neteyam creates a pretty wound when he draws blood out of you making you scream loudly. 

You pant your mouth feels dry and your throat hurts, you want to fall down but his grip is strong, he doesn’t let that happen. Neteyam pulls out of you quickly and moves his hand from your face to the top of your head pulling you to sit on your knees in front of him. He strokes his cock before tapping it on your lips a couple times, “come on, open up taste your juices slut.” His cock presses against you lips when he lets it go and slaps you across the face again, “Are you slow bitch, open up” he smacks you around whipping your head from side to side before you answer him, “My mouth is dry-” he can hear it in your voice, he knows it’s true.  

“Open.” he says sternly, his hands now occupied holding your head, “Stick your tongue out.” he continues in the same tone, when you do it, he lets a glob of spit fall from his mouth into yours and you instinctively swallow it, he shoves his cock into your mouth right after, “Now suck” he demanded thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth. 

He observes the way your cheeks puff out when he fills you up and the bulge in your throat when he thrust harshly into your mouth. The view is perfect for once you can’t complain or bitch about anything you do, your mouth is stuffs, you are quiet. Neteyam enjoys the silence aside from the occasionally gagging, your tears fall down your cheeks creating such a perfect picture for him. 

When neteyam come he pulls out of your mouth, stroking himself coming all over your face and chest with a sexy moan, “fuckkk yea take it bitch.” He takes a deep breath and looks down at you seeing you stick your tongue out tasting the cum that sits on your lips. Neteyam thinks it’s so hot, next time he’ll be sure to come in your mouth but for now, “gonna stop being a little bitch now and behave yourself?” he brings his hand back squishing your face, ignoring the feeling of his come on it. You nod quickly before opening you mouth and responding, “I’ll behave.”  

You both know it’s not true but at least you said it.  

✨ I’m not sure how much I like this but I hope you do when you read it! Repost, likes and comments are always appreciated, I love the positive feedback!

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[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ── Part 4

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), SMUT! Halloween Party, sensitive topics, discussions, unprotected sex, jealousy, sexual tension, heavy angst, insecure and confused reader, angst, painful

Word Count: 11.1K

A/N: English is not my first language.

🎃🕸️── Halloween Special Part ──🕸️🎃 Song: 'Honeythief' by Halou.

“Can we talk properly?” Upon hearing that you wished to return home, Dean implied he regretted what he said earlier. What is done was done though.

You cut him off abruptly, saying, “I really don't want to,” and indicated the need to stop talking to Dean about the depth of your friendship with Robb. What he asked wasn’t appropriate and though he knew it, he had asked a second time with a more rude manner. “I am really exhausted. A lot.”

To change your opinion, Dean replied, “Sam invited you,” as if telling you that Sam's suggestion was any better. Your wish to return home was overwhelming.

This time, you spoke out with a firm tone. “Really, Dean,” avoiding his gaze with a turn to face the road. “The next day I'll be working too. I should definitely get some sleep. It was a very busy day. I can’t feel my legs.”

“Alright.”

Dean shut his mouth, not wanting to annoy you any longer, and considered the bond you have with Robb. Dean wondered if the son of a bitch had already made a move on you since he was quite sure he was up to something. He found it disturbing that he would have to work together with you at the hospital in the days to come.

Sighing, he took a quick glance at you and seeing that you were staring at the road while lost in thoughts. It was only a simple question; maybe he shouldn't have asked it that way, but he did not like the thought of getting on your nerves. Maybe you were simply too exhausted for a brief discussion. He didn't mean to hurt your feelings. But he felt bizarrely pleased that you and that man hadn't shared any intimate past. He wasn't your type anyway. Too tall and too skinny for your taste. Dean was sure of that. 

You knew you arrived when Dean pulled over. He should have been aware of the boundaries; it wasn't that you wanted to part ways with him that way and watch him leave. You hated seeing him leave. Your mind and heart yearned for intimacy.

Dean responded, “I'll pick you up tomorrow morning,” just as you were about to get out.

“Alright, good night. Tell Sammy that I'm sorry and also worn out.”

Even if you didn't get the finest sleep of your life, at least Dean showed your home sooner than you anticipated and brought coffee. You kindly turned down his offer to have breakfast together because you would be late for work. In reality, it was primarily due to his strangely impolite behavior recently. You made every effort to remain normal and behave as though nothing had occurred between you and him. But even though you tried your best and talked to him very normally, he had been acting like a jerk, as though it was your fault all along.

That's why you made the decision to set a few boundaries despite what your heart felt. If not, Dean would end up hurting you much more. Love was an awful type of disease. 

“Will you be coming tonight?” Dean asked as you turned to face him and opened the door.

You just stated, “I don't want to.” Although your anger had subsided from yesterday, you still felt uncomfortable and needed some alone time. 

“Why not?” Dean softly inquired, clearly taken aback by your answer. After all, you never used to reject him for anything. 

Fuck, you didn't even say no when he approached you for your first quick sexual experience. When Dean spoke, you had to learn to say no. For real. Otherwise, you had no idea what to do, even if he dragged your head between his legs right away. Your face turned red. You felt pathetic.

“Robb and I will be having our dinner tonight. Outaide. We haven't spent much time together lately,” you stated while looking at your watch. You still had some more time.

Dean's hands tightened around the steering wheel. There was no doubt that Robert would be a pain in the ass. Deal was becoming increasingly irritated by knowing that you would be spending the entire night with him; in fact, it was making him want to break Robert's face.

“I'll make dinner. You are welcome to bring Robb, your buddy,” Dean said. Before he could stop himself, he spoke. After all, he was never particularly good at thinking twice. “He's new here after all, and he can get to know his friend's friends by himself.”

Although Dean's offer seemed sweet and generous, you still raised an eyebrow and were ready to say no. You asked naively, “Really?”

“Yeah.” Dean smiled a bit at you, seeing that you were already thinking about accepting his offer. That wasn't too difficult, he guessed. “Making new friends and having dinner together would be awesome.”

When you eventually said, “Okay,” you looked at your watch and said, “But I have to ask Robb first, then I'll give you a call. I have to go right now.”

Dean picked up your bag and handed it to you when he noticed you had forgotten it. “Okay. After you speak with him, give me a call. Take care.” 

Because you were restless and kept yawning, you continued receiving warnings; thus, the rest of the day didn't go as smoothly as you had planned. You could get some relaxation at the end of the week which was two days late. It was Halloween Week after all. You had no plans though. Remembering that you had spent it in your own house doing nothing, your heart clenched with sorrow.

You didn't have enough time to chat with Robert because the emergency was so busy. In the meantime, he was consumed with his own work. When lunchtime rolled around, you managed to get his attention and told him that Dean offered an invitation for dinner. You awaited Robert's rejection. In fact, you would feel better if you avoided seeing Dean for a day at the very least. You needed some time alone for yourself. God, what made you say "yes" in the first place?

Robb, much to your surprise, accepted the offer with enthusiasm and stated that you all should spend time all together. He had also wanted to know who your pals were. If he found out that you and the Winchester brothers were ghost hunters, you wondered what kind of reaction he would have. He would suggest that you see a doctor. You'd die because of embarrassment.

You were going to tell him that you knew Dean from when he helped you a year or so ago and was skilled at fixing cars. That would be enough as an explanation. Of course, you had to warn Dean first. Your face reddened as you thought back to when he had mentioned how good you were about using your hands. God knew what exactly he meant. He was an asshole. Sometimes.

Sam shot Dean a strange glance when he placed everything he bought from the grocery store. 

“What are these for?”

Dean revealed, “We have a special guest for dinner tonight.”

The fact that he had asked your friend to come to the dinner made him uncomfortable. He was an absolute stranger. Still, it was preferable to letting you and him share a night together. He believed that you two were growing more and more apart every day, and you two had too much to talk about. It seemed like Robert would be an obstable.

The more time you spend with Robert, the more boundaries you build between you and him. That wasn't right. You were, after all, a long-time member of the family. A year of hunting wasn't an exaggeration. 

“Who?” Sam inquired, puzzled by Dean's peculiar behavior. 

“Y/N and her friend, Robb.” 

“Is she in a relationship already? I can't believe she would act that quickly.” Sam laughed out loud, enjoying the memory of his conversation with you. He was unaware that you would meet a man so quickly. Would that make him a friend or a good manipulator? As long as the result was beneficial for you, Sam was okay with both. 

Dean nearly threw the tomato at Sam's big head, but he restrained himself.

“She's not in a relationship,” Dean stated calmly. “And what you mean you didn't think she would act so fast?”

Sam grinned triumphantly, assuming from his previous words of encouragement that you were already in a relationship. After all, you needed a break from your job and the anxiety it caused. You have the right to pursue your own pleasure.

“Remember the night that she spent here the day before? We had been watching TV, and I asked Y/N whether she was seeing someone. Jo and you were enjoying your little fun. Remember now? You know, we are spending time together and going hunting, but for gods sake, I've never seen her with anyone,” Sam remarked, trying to think back on every minute of your conversation. 

As Dean chopped the tomatoes, he frowned, remembering the terrible night he had spent with Jo. He was still tormenting himself over the time he liked fucking her while he thought of your body throughout that moment. When he thought back on these times, Dean felt uneasy. He didn't know what had overcome him to do something that shouldn't have been done in the first place. 

“And?” Dean remarked, pushing Sam to continue. Regarding the other subjects Sam had brought up, he remained silent. 

“And I asked her whether she's into someone already or if she simply doesn't let people into her life. To be honest, I still don't know the answer, but I told her to see someone at least,” Sam said, beaming with pride at having offered you some helpful guidance. “I mean, she's been lonely for a long time, and her job is already too stressful,” he added. Actually, he wasn't all that excellent at managing his own life, but he was wonderful at offering advice and listening.

Dean felt a bit better when he heard that Sam hadn't seen you with anybody before, but he wasn't pleased about Sam's attempts to give you dumb advice that seemed totally useless. “She's not alone. She is one of us. And why would you fill her troubled head with such stupid ideas? Her work requires a lot of effort and energy already,” Dean said, annoyed with his brother's jerky behavior. 

You were handling too many things at once; therefore, it was helpful to avoid relationships and to quit doing meaningless things like dating. It was too much for you to handle. Dean was aware of how demanding and time-consuming nursing was. In short, relationships took a lot of time. Right now, you were too vulnerable and too soft to handle a man.

Bewildered by Dean's comments, Sam tried to defend himself. “What even are you saying, Dean? She won't be living alone for very long. Her entire family is gone. She is, of course, one of us, but it's very reasonable that she would desire to start her own family as a form of escape. She is not a child to protect; she is an adult.”

Dean scowled at Sam and rolled his eyes. It seems as though his brother would never stop bombarding you with his rubbish thoughts. Dean was sure that you would listen to his brother's idiotic words and, worse, that you would take them seriously because you were too naive.

“You had to be kidding me. Why on earth are you giving her such crap ideas? She shouldn't spend her little spare time with a man for just that reason. Dealing with a man's shit is more difficult than her job, which is already tough enough. Ask your partner. She will probably whine about how annoying you are occasionally. I'm sure she has much to tell.” 

“Takes one to know one, huh?” Having no idea about Dean's behavior, Sam raised an eyebrow. His brother was behaving strangely these days, for sure. Particularly about you. One of Dean's specialties was being overly protective and acting oddly tough. “Have you met her friend yet?”

“Yeah.”

“And? Is he working in the same hospital with her or?” Sam asked curiously.

Dean answered, “Yes, he's a doctor.” To observe how he was treating you while at work, perhaps he should get himself a fake identity and pretend to be a doctor for a day. Dean wondered if Robert treated you well. 

“They would make a great couple, huh? A nurse and a doctor. Sounds lovely enough and a bit...kinky.”

Lovely my ass.

“Why don't you help me, my lovely brother, instead of just sitting on your ass there uttering bullshit? She is your friend too,” Dean bitterly said, “I can't do the entire work by myself.” It seemed as though Sam had made it his mission to irritate Dean today. He wasn't sure if Sam was doing it on purpose. His brother was always a hopeless romantic bitch, but he never knew the ideal partner for himself and neither for you.

“Will you invite Jo?” Sam inquired, uninterested about Dean's plea for assistance. He was not even fond of kitchen stuff. It was something he never liked. 

“Fuck, no. Not that we are in a relationship. We're not seeing each other anymore.”

“Friends with benefits then?” Sam seemed to find the concept disgusting. How someone could fuck another every day without feeling anything at all was beyond his comprehension. Perhaps that was the reason for your prolonged single status. But for Dean, if he was in the mood for fuck, it didn't matter if he felt anything as long as the person had a pussy. 

“Fine. Good.” Sighing, Sam noticed Dean's sharp gaze as he cut the tomatoes, as if he wanted to throw the knife at him. 

When you saw Robert outside after he had to wait an hour for your shift to end, you felt awkward and apologized for something that wasn't your fault. He was polite and understanding enough to accept Dean's invitation, and he also waited for you in his car.

Following you, he drove his own car to Dean's house. You tried to calm Dean down over the phone after your small argument so that he wouldn't treat you like a child and rebuke just because you were talking on the phone while driving. He was the one to call you. In an attempt to avoid ruining the night, you made an effort to settle down beforehand.

It was annoying that when you told Dean what to tell Robb about how you met him and Sam since he didn't sound pleased. It was a story about Dean helping you with your car a year ago. It wouldn't be a lie; he was skilled at repairing after all. You couldn't tell if he liked Robb. It was insignificant, though. He should treat your friends with the same politeness that you showed him, along with his hookups and everyone else, even Jo. If not, you would have to really set a few boundaries. 

You were clueless about how to make an impression on him during the last several days, or even if you could win him over at all. Almost everything made him angry.

Soon after Robb and you parked, you nervously knocked on the door. He was standing next to you, and you prayed he hadn't noticed your nervousness. It was soothing that he always had an infectious smile on his face. It was nice to see someone at ease and easygoing. 

You briefly forgot how to breathe as Dean opened the door. You could smell his fresh fragrance from a distance, as if you were some animal. You couldn't tell if he had recently taken a shower or had simply changed his clothing. You blinked as your eyes met, and you forced yourself to look away from the tight, dark blue t-shirt that was revealing his enormous arms. You both awkwardly stood there, staring at one another without moving. You smelled like sweat and tiredness, most probably.

All of your fury at him vanished the instant you laid eyes on him, took in his piercing look, and smelled his clean scent. When your heart was beating wildly the moment you laid eyes on him, how were you going to set boundaries? Was there any chance for it?

Sam grinned broadly and said, “Hey,” reaching out to give you a hug as Robb walked in.

Sam gave you a tight embrace and said, “Welcome home,” as Dean and Robb exchanged strange looks.

Dean was staring at him as though he hadn't even invited him in the first place.

When Sam eventually quit holding you, Robet and Sam shook hands, and Dean tried to embrace you too, grabbing you by your belly, but you just murmured, “Hi, Dean,” smiling shyly, stroked his arm briefly, and hurried inside as you literally escaped from the hug though your heart craved for touching.

You didn't think you could resist melting in his arms and forgetting all he said if he gave you a hug right then. You weren't the god's strongest soldier. Plus, you were positive you smelled awful.

Dean's fingers burnt as soon as he touched you to pull to himself to give you a hug. He tried to make things normal and wanted you to comfortable with him just like you were comfortable with Sam. However, watching you escape from his hug with a simple greeting and a light touch, Dean's body tensed. He was consumed by your timid and icy behaviour as if you hadn't talked him about how you wanted things to be normal.

It didn't calm him up to see you being touchy with Robb and Sam. Moreover, Dean was already becoming irritated. It was a bad idea to invite a complete stranger. God. He should have considered his words wisely before speaking.

You sat at the table and looked around to see whether Jo was present, but she was nowhere to be seen. When you gave Dean a questioning glance, he said nothing. He assumed you were exhausting. You moved so slowly and heavily that it was simple to understand.

Robb interrupted, “Everything looks delicious,” while Dean continued to give you serious eye contact. “Thanks for having me.”

Dean smirked widely and continued, “Don't mention it.” You exhaled a sigh of relief. "So how was your day?" 

While you were fiddling with your food, Dean continued to eat, and you began to eat as well, though you weren't sure if you were truly hungry or not. You just felt a little anxious. Trying to unwind a little while, you watched Sam enjoy his food and listened to Dean and Robb. You hoped that your earlier action of trying to run away from Dean's touch hadn't offended him in any way. 

Robert responded shyly, “It was exhausting enough. But there weren't any deaths today, fortunately, which is not very common nowadays.”

“I bet. It's undeniable that these are crazy times,” Dean said while his mouth was full. Dear God. “But in emergencies, I'm sure things are much more crazier. There's no denying that the staff there deserve far more respect. Especially nurses.”

You nervously smiled and said, “Thanks, Dean,” acknowledging his sincere admiration for the work you were doing. “Robb is also quite deserving of respect. It's not easy to save someone's life and to see someone else lose their life at your hands. To be honest, I deal with broken bones and bandages on people's cut bodies mostly.”

“Well, I'm grateful. When it comes to medical problems and saving lives, there is no such thing as a little or huge job.” Robert sipped on his wine and stated, “I assure you, honey, you're very good at your job. That's sufficient.”

Dean rolled his eyes, carried on with his dinner, and gave Sam a quick glance. Rather than eating in solitude and messaging his girlfriend, his brother should have supported him in interrogating the doctor. In an attempt to get to know your friend, Dean felt as though he was battling alone. 

“Would you also save the life of a terrorist? or that of a rapist?” Dean inquired abruptly, and you gave him a stern look to let him know he was pushing things a little too far. 

When he invited you and Robert for dinner, you expected him to act nice and fix the complicated situation with you. However, he was determined to make you annoyed with his unpredictable behaviour. If only you could find a time to be alone with him right now, you could ask him to behave. You hoped he got the message when you frowned at his face.

Sam stated calmly, “Of course he is supposed to save people's lives no matter what,” and Dean briefly closed his eyes while smiling angrily. Even if his brother interrupted in this way, how in the world was he to question the morality of this dumb? He was doomed. Sam should have shut up instead of standing up for a stranger over Dean's face.

“I would and that’s what I’m doing,” Robb said in a tone as cold as was to be expected. “Even if some of these people are terrible and don't deserve to live, I made a vow to save their lives, not take them. Although I must admit that I don't enjoy it sometimes, I still do my best to help them. It is not my responsibility to judge them, put them in jail, or have them put to execution.”

You felt the air getting heavier, so you timidly put your hand on Robb's shoulder and patted him to express your sympathy and help him feel calmer. “And that's the right thing to do even if it doesn't feel right,” you mumbled. It was the kind of thing you had to answer every day, so you hoped Robb wouldn't take offense at Dean's question and that he wouldn't take it personally. 

“I don't think I would do it though,” Dean stated, fiddling with his meal at the moment. It was ridiculous to watch how he toyed with his fork now. 

With a broad smile, Robb said, “That's why I'm the doctor here and you are not,” seemingly trying to enrage Dean. As he thought he was being challenged as well, he didn't back down. They attempted to turn the talk into an ego battle, so you just rolled your eyes.

Aware of Dean's short temper, you gave Robb a hint by kicking him under the table. You then apologized and asked Dean for more wine.

“Dean had also questioned me with the same questions, which I'm sure were purely out of curiosity. After all, we all receive quite similar questions every day,” you remarked softly, hoping Dean wouldn't respond negatively this time and exacerbate the situation.

“Obviously. It is all curiosity. Don't take it personal.”

His remorse overcame him at seeing your timid and anxious appearance. It wasn't as though he invited your buddy and you to hurt feelings and spoil your evening again. It felt like a challenge, though, the way Robert called you nicknames while grinning slyly at Dean. If that guy stopped acting like he was more attractive, Dean might try to be more respectful. That guy was an asshole, though. He simply knew that being around you must make Robb feel more intelligent. 

He had such a punchable face, especially when he smiled. 

“How did you meet?” At last, Robb asked. If nothing else, you hoped he would help you ease the situation and stop getting on Dean's nerves. 

You didn't trust Dean and cut him off as soon as he opened his lips. “He helped me with my car. It was a dreadful, rainy day that included a small accident. As you are aware, Dean is excellent at fixing cars,” you made and attempt to praise him. It was true. “And I am not very good at driving in the rain as you know. In fact, he's the best.” He gave you a hand with your vehicle on many different occasions. Those were beautiful, memorable times.

“His and Sam's girlfriends are also good friends of mine.” Now that was a complete lie. However, you didn't want Robb to make any comments about romance when they were seated at the table. You were not very good at hiding your feelings, and Robert had an innate ability for reading people. 

But Dean was blind.

“That's right,” Dean remarked with a cold whisper, “I'm very good at fixing things and breaking things.” He gave you a stern look. 

Sam smiled and nodded nervously, for it was true that you and Ruby were close enough. You had the impression that everything was going well for him. But Dean instantly entwined, saying, “Jo and I weren't a thing.” When he used the past tense, you scowled, and he saw the look of perplexity on your face. You stopped asking questions after that. He would soon find another partner. You were surprised he dated with her that long. 

You asked Robert, “Do you have any plans for Halloween?” to change the topic. 

You were wondering whether Robb had any plans for Halloween because you had never spent the holiday with Sam and Dean before. He loved cosplaying and was always coming up with the funniest and most original outfits compared to other people. To him, it was much like a hobby. You were better than him at thinking of the worst possible ideas, but it was still an enjoyable activity. 

“Yes, without a doubt.” Robb swallowed the piece and took a drink of wine. “My costume is ready,” he declared with excitement. “By the way, I met an old friend of mine yesterday, and he informed me that he would be throwing a party this week. God, he told me some strange things.”

“Like what?” Sam cut him off. He sounded both interested and suspicious. 

“I'm going to tell you what he told me, and I really hope you guys don't laugh at me. In any case, he told me that his house is definitely haunted. Not that I buy this garbage, but in the previous three years, there have been three murders that have all occurred in the same room during Halloween.”

Your eyes met Dean's, and Robert laughed shamefacedly, as if he were having trouble believing what he was saying since he has never believed in the supernatural events. Dean's excitement-filled eyes and altered posture suggested that he was missing hunting. You two hadn't spent any time together in a while.

“It may be a serial killing,” Sam guessed. “Who has been arrested for the murders? Any witnesses or suspects?”

“That's the unusual part,” Robb stated. “Neither witnesses nor suspects are there. If a killer exists, there was not a single piece of evidence that may lead the police to them. All guests over the past three years have been thoroughly investigated, but not a single person has been identified as a suspect. Given the killings, my buddy Jordan purchased the house a year ago for a rather low price. Although they haven't had any events in a while, it appears that the owners have made the decision to get rid of it.”

Before you could say a thing, Dean inquired, “How did those people die? Has your friend provided you with any details?”

“Yeah, it is sick. Every year, the victims had been discovered in the same room, nude on the bed. There's a high chance they were killed while having sex. Perhaps it's a one-person job, but for heaven's sake, I can't say a damn thing until I analyze the victims' bodies and determine just how they were killed. He informed me that a woman had been killed in the same room years before. I suppose this is the reason why people believe the house is certainly haunted. I don’t know man.”

“And your friend wants to organize a Halloween party in the same house?” Dean asked, surprised. He was still shocked that people were so keen on doing all the wrong things. 

“Indeed,” Robb replied. “But we're not going to use that room. He'll exercise caution with this. All he wants to do this week is plan an awesome Halloween party. If it's okay with you, I'd want to invite the rest of you as well. No pressure.”

“We'll be there, of course,” Dean said immediately. He was thrilled that Sam and he got the invitation.

You give Dean a nod as he looks at you to see whether you're comfortable with it. This mysterious situation, including ghosts, might strengthen your relationship with Dean and help you two become as you once were. You were desperate for it, and the thought of acting like someone else excited you. It had been a long time. 

It was pleasant enough for the rest of the evening. Dean stopped being hostile toward Robert and didn't say anything to make you feel uncomfortable. While Robb and Sam were deep in conversation, he continued to stare at you. You were full, yet you continued to fiddle with your meal as you frequently glanced at Dean. That being said, you didn't know why he was staring at you weirdly. You couldn't help but imagine your fingertips lingering over his pointed jaw as you saw how wonderful he looked in his tight t-shirt and freshly shaven face. Your cheeks were hot from the strange ideas that were running through your mind.

You wished that you had also changed into new clothing. Damn. You smelled like a hospital; that much was certain. No one liked the hospital smell. Dean has often told you how much he despised that smell. Just like he made you feel exciting, you desperately wanted him to feel the same about yourself. However, one thing he didn't enjoy was the scent of your hospital.

Dean stared at you with anticipation, just after Robert had told Sam and Dean that he had to go and thanked them for their hospitality. You got the message. Undoubtedly, you had to bring up that Halloween party Robb brought up. There were things that had to be discussed beforehand.

“I guess I'll stay here for the night,” you said to Robb. “I'm too tired to move right now.”

He thanked Dean again, didn't ask any questions, shook hands with both of them, and departed the home, leaving you and the Winchester Brothers by alone. Before he went away, you gestured that you would give him a call soon.

You took a big breath once the door closed, satisfied that the dinner had gone well enough. At that point, you needed to sleep and recharge since your feet and back were starting to hurt. To get rid of your overwhelming scent, though, you had to take a quick shower first.

Sam said, “I will not be coming to the party with you guys,” before you could say anything. “I wish I could. But I promised Ruby that I would be hanging out with her and her pals that day. I cannot change the plans now.”

"It's okay." It surprised you both when Dean smiled at him and said, “You don't have to change your plans.” Sam joining him on hunting was something he was usually quite obsessed with, but this time he didn't even argue with him.

“Really?” inquired Sam. He shared your shock.

“Yes. I'm certain Y/N and I can handle this crap. It will be simple. You shouldn't disappoint your girlfriend.”

You looked at Dean's face, and you arched an eyebrow. He appeared quite serious. Sam gave him a skeptical glance. He was about to leave the room after saying good night to both of you and realizing that Dean was truly being thoughtful and kind, but you stopped him.

“Could you please give me one of your t-shirts, Sam?” You asked shyly as you assisted Dean in clearing the table, “I think I need to take a shower.” You didn't want to wait to take a shower for another minute because you were afraid Dean would smell your sweat and the hospital fragrance while he was that close.

Dean said, “I could give you—” but Sam intervened.

“Sure. I’ll put it on your bed. Alright?”

“Thanks, Sam,” you said, casting him a friendly glance.

You reasoned that asking Dean for anything to wear would be strange given what had transpired between you and him. Whether or not he broke up with Jo didn't matter. You had to establish some limits if you both wished to keep your friendship healthy. You had, after all, stepped over a pretty fragile line. It could be harmless to wear his t-shirt, but there was no reason to get your hopes up and think delusional things. You were normal before you had sex, even though you occasionally wore his clothing. So much had changed by now.

Even though Dean told you to sit down and rest after Sam left the room, you persisted in helping him clean the table. Robb occasionally attempted to get under Dean's nerves, and Dean responded with the same ferocity, but he unexpectedly played well. He didn't usually say pleasant things of people he didn't like, but he even cooked for him and did his best.

He broke the silence as soon as he noticed you carrying the last glass and handing it to him, shortly after he began to slowly wash the dishes. You were fascinated with his physique and thick wrists, yet you attempted to divert your attention to something else before he could see you staring at his body.

His abrupt question, “So, are you satisfied?” made you tense up in shame.

You naively said, “What?” not realizing what he was getting at.

When Dean turned to face you and saw your confusion, he had to force himself not to chuckle. “The dinner. I think I did well there, huh?”

You ignored the dirty thoughts that were running through your head, focusing solely on the conversation as you picked up on the arrogance in his tone. You suppressed your nervousness as you wondered whether he was intentionally attempting to make you feel shy.

“Yes. Dean, it was wonderful. Thanks for inviting Robb. I'm glad we had such an enjoyable time together,” you said genuine, smiling a little at him.

Instead of looking him in the eye as you hurriedly watched him wash the dishes, you continued to see his rough hands soaked in water. Your mind was contemplating things you'd be embarrassed to admit, even though you were trying to focus on the talk. You bit your lips out of tension and eventually turned away from him, folding your arms over your chest when he curled his fingers around a glass. As quickly as you could, you had to wash your dirty mind of filthy ideas.

“Yeah?” he murmured, surprised by the praise, which didn't appear to have enough impression. “You didn't care to give the generous hug there, though.”

Without intending to offend, Dean had to bring it up. He kept his mind occupied during the dinner with the way you left him feeling as though you were far more distant than before. He couldn't keep wondering why you were acting the way you were, even if it wasn't really that important.

Surprised by the way of the embrace you ran from he mentioned, you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The cause of it was not something that could be easily explained, almost as if discussing it was forbidden. To clear your head and avoid saying anything absurd, you took a deep breath.

“I just smelled bad. I didn't want to bother you with it,” you eventually said. Although you weren't being quite honest with him, it was accurate enough.

“What smell?” With a perplexed tone, Dean inquired about as he quickly wiped dry his hands with a towel.

You tried to say it an amused way to cover your shyness, “Sweat and hospital smell, you know,” but you were embarrassed to admit it. “You always say it makes you throw up.”

The way he complained about the hospital and its stench didn't bother you months ago when you first met him, and he brought it up immediately, but by the time you fell in love with him, you could see how much he hated it and the way he portrayed it. When your shift finished and he was around, you tried your best to be cautious and avoid physical contact. However, you arrived at the house without having had time to change into new clothing or take a shower this evening. It was one of your insecurities.

Not that you held him responsible for it. After all, everyone disliked things for various reasons. You didn't take it personally.

“What? I-” Dean questioned in a hushed voice, as if that were the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. While he remembered the things he had said to you while you were close to him immediately following the end of your shift, his heart felt heavy. He didn't mean to offend you. Never.

He moved in your direction, holding the towel in one hand. You could not have merely run away from him this time since your legs did not receive any signals from your brain on how to move as he drew closer. “It's just... I didn't mean to hurt you. I would never.”

He stopped in front of you, and you felt caged, your back touching the kitchen sink. To meet his gaze, you had to raise your head. Your hands, not knowing where to rest, began to linger on the surface of the kitchen sink, where Dean had placed the towel. You knew you would touch him if you could only get your hands to move a bit. A little gasp was visible between your hands. But you could never have the guts to approach him in that way. Your hands paused there so as not to make the wrong action.

Dean smelled you now, but he didn't take a deep breath so as not to disturb you. You did smell like a hospital, but it was in a nice, fresh way. It was just sweet somehow. He didn't care whether you smelled blood and sweat. Your hair had become messy due to your job, and your overall scent made you appear...nicer. Perhaps in order to make a wise decision, he needed to have gotten a bit closer.

Stating that “I didn't say this to bother you.” To soften the air, you gave him a kind smile. “Do you want to talk about that Halloween party?” You asked to change the subject in order to break the distance a little between you and Dean; otherwise, your heart could burst because of anxiety and excitement anytime.

Dean didn't say anything as he saw you feeling uncomfortable, but his face fell. “I suppose we should first decide what to wear,” he commented, folding his arms over his broad chest.

“I have an idea for what to wear already.”

This time, you were unable to help but smile genuinely. Even if you lacked creativity, at least you had a sense of humor. That was also remarkable.

“Oh, yeah?” Curious about what you were up to, Dean chuckled. “What's your idea?”

“You'll see,” and you chuckled along with him. He was happy to see your former attitude returning. This was something he had missed.

You kept talking to Dean about what to do as Halloween Week drew nearer so you wouldn't make a mistake and ruin everything. It would place you both in a very difficult situation. For your sake as much as his own, Dean took great care to hunt down ghosts and to look after his car.

As you adjusted your costume and red lingerie, you took one final glance at yourself in the mirror. It had enough fake blood on it. While you and Dean attempted to find the ghost, you prayed that you wouldn't fall on your ass wearing the red high heels. Of course, if there was one at all. You also had to be careful when moving in the outfit because it was barely covering your legs. You were unsure whether your choice of a seductive, bleeding nurse costume was a mistake.

You knew Dean had come when he called. As you got into the front seat, your heart was racing crazily. He muttered something behind his mask, but you were too busy fighting to keep your costume from baring off too much of your flesh to understand it.

“What are you wearing?” you said, perplexed as you peered at his black cloak and mask. It was almost invisible in the darkness.

“I am Batman,” he responded in a rather aggressive manner, his hands motionless on the driving wheel as he continued to study your lace and revealing clothing. “It is expected of us to pretend like someone else. It's the concept. How are you even expected to move in this, by the way?”

Arms crossed across your chest, and you felt like you had to defend yourself. “I am pretending that I'm a sexy killer nurse, Dean.”

Sighing, Dean stopped from mentioning that you'd move more easily in a Catwoman outfit. He only said, trying not to look at your naked legs and lingerie, “Alright, sexy killer nurse. Let's go.”

Upon arriving in the house, you couldn't help but gawk at the people enjoying themselves by the pool and around the house; they were drinking, dancing, and sharing kisses everywhere they were. You could only see Dean's long cloak and mask, which covered half of his face, in the dim lighting. Whether it was anxiousness or anything else, he was biting his lips invitingly.

You said, “So,” as you glanced around the house and the entire people. Because of the loud music, it was difficult to hear your own speaking. “What are we going to do now?”

Nobody welcomed Dean or you when you entered the home. Everyone seemed to be going about their business as usual. Turning your face away, you watched other people taking cracks. Oh god.

The mood was gloomy, and the music was loud. You saw that the majority of people had frightening symbols painted on their faces. Even though ghost hunting was plainly meant to be more frightening, watching people continue to use drugs and drink made you feel nervous. The majority of their costumes were gorgeous, though, and you selected a few as your favorites. The ones you loved most were the ones with Princess Leia, the Shrek and Fiona pair, the Tree costume, the Hamburger one, Gimli, and Legolas costumes. They were exceptionally good.

Dean said, “Come with me,” gesturing for you to follow him upstairs. “We need to find that room.”

“This house is quite big though.” You took his cape in your hands and helped him move more easily. “There must be a lot of room,” you said.

As you climbed upstairs, the number of people in the corridor decreased, and Dean appeared to be looking for something. Even though you had no acknowledgment of what he was doing, you continued to follow him. You said nothing about how his cape made him appear a little funny.

Dean went past the rooms and opened each door one by one. Fortunately, though, there weren't many. “What are you doing?” you eventually said, not completely comprehending his reasons for doing so.

Dean explained, “We need to lock the door or do something else to prevent those teens from trying something funny.”

Those people trying to fuck each other in the same room where someone was murdered wouldn't be unexpected. As soon as Dean opened the doors, every person in the room complained, and he instantly apologized not to make a scene. While some of them were becoming drunk, others were acting in ways that instantly made you look away.

When one of the doors Dean attempted to get open was locked, you exchanged meaningful glances. “This room has to be it,” Dean stated with confidence.

“All right,” he said, reaching into his pockets to get a tool to unlock the door. “A little bit of coverage would work fine.”

As Dean began working on the door, you turned to face the hallway. When he eventually unlocked it, you hurried to get into the room with him before he slammed the door behind you and turned on the lights. You gave Dean an inquiring look when he locked it again.

“To avoid being disturbed,” clarified Dean, clearing his throat.

As you realized the music wasn't playing too loudly in the room, you breathed deeply. There were too many things to dwell on, making it difficult to concentrate on anything.

When you realized that you and Dean were now in an awkward situation, you just touched the room's furnishings randomly to soften the mood. While attempting to avoid staring at your body and touching any objects in the room, Dean cleared his throat nerveously.

With a silent prayer that he wouldn't break anything significant, you said, “What are we going to do now?” You could feel the tenseness and need between your legs as you remembered Rob's words.

Robb informed you that every single one of the people mentioned died during coupling. It had to have a backstory, but for now it was insignificant. While you placed your hands on the shelf, you awaited Dean's reaction, which came when he removed his mask and placed it in his pants pocket. In his Batman outfit, he looked extraordinarily good. The silence grew, and your heart began to beat.

You finally had the guts to stand beside him so as to avoid adding to the awkward matter. You both turned to face the bed and said, “Do you think we can... fake it until we make it? I mean until the ghost appears?” He was clearly uncomfortable as well.

He reluctantly answered, "I guess that's what we are going to do," which hurt your feelings. It wasn't like you had planned to risk everything to that extent in search of a ghost. Even if you thought you were exposed a bit, you avoided saying anything that might have made things worse.

With a shaky voice, you said, “What should I do?” as your heels began to hurt.

With a grunt, Dean clenched his jaw and glared at the bed. You had no idea if he felt powerless due to the situation or whether it was because he would need to set boundaries with you after this once again. After all, he had been making an effort to maintain your friendship strong and ongoing. If you were less in love with him, you may agree to let him do it with someone else if it would make him feel better, even though you didn't have the strength to do it.

Disappointed, all you could do was sit on the bed and wait for Dean to come to help you so that, when you'd dealt with the ghost, you could either go back home or join the party.

You gasped in surprise as Dean finally moved and pushed you further on the bed while holding you by the hips. You raised your head to see his eyes. Your hands went straight to his shoulders for assistance. Dean slid his body between your legs, but he was extremely cautious not to put his weight on you. You let him take control. But your legs were spread wide apart due to how you were dressed, and you could feel the chill causing your thighs to shiver with cold. He could see your underwear and your lower body if he looked at them.

In your first time, there was no electricity in the room, so you couldn't even see each other properly. However, now that there was light, you could see each other so clearly that your heart was racing. You could spend as much time as you pleased studying each line and spot on his face. He appeared much more handsome.

The room suddenly felt cold while Dean waited on top of you, staring at you as well. It was difficult not to give him a clear sign by not glancing at his lips. It was impossible to resist the temptation to moisten your dry lips.

You broke the stillness with a whisper, “Do you think the ghost will appear?” Waiting there with nothing to do but stare at each other felt uneasy.

Dean only said, “I don't know,” while eyeing your lips. “I guess we have to act a little to trigger it.”

“It's okay,” you said, quickly nodding to him. You were instantly ashamed by how eager you sounded. Hope that he didn't cringe.

As you waited underneath him, almost half nude, Dean appeared rather serious and used both of his hands to steady himself. You prayed your heartbeat was not audible to him. You were going to melt beneath his body and go completely insane.

You gasped in anticipation as Dean's head began to draw closer to yours before you could ask him another question. You fought the urge to shut your eyes. That would have made it obvious what you needed, but you carried on to focus on his green eyes. He paused and put one hand on your legs as he felt his hot breath on your skin. His fingers gently made their way under your clothing and contacted the skin beneath them. Your hips were pleading with you to lift them and give the signal, but you pressed your lips shut to avoid making an excited sound. Dean was not placing himself between your legs; he was supporting his body with his hands, but you needed to feel his weight on you again.

His cloak touched your legs as your hands moved to each side of his belly, wrapping your body. You could taste his lips if you moved slightly since there wasn't much space between your lips. You kept your lips shut and tried to concentrate on your surroundings to feel if the ghost was around. There was nothing. Even if it wasn't helping the ghost, you were definitely wasted from the start. You pleaded with the ghost deep within not to show up and ruin your night until Dean took care of you. It was only one innocent prayer.

It was uncertain to you if Dean was having as much fun as you were. He appeared dead serious.

You hardly made any motion when Dean's lips touched yours, causing you to stay still beneath him. You hesitantly opened your mouth since your lips felt dry. You had to moisten them, but there was nothing you could do. It seemed as though your brain had given up working. You were waiting for Dean to take action, not realizing that you had already closed your eyes and were uninterested in the ghost or anybody else. You inhaled deeply as your heart raced with excitement, and when his lips brushed yours, your hands gripped his back even more firmly. Instead of moistening them in an attempt to torture you, Dean was simply rubbing your lips. He seemed to be testing your patience while waiting for you to take the lead.

Without thinking twice, you lifted your head and put your lips to Dean's, parting them wildly when they were too dry.

Once your lips were parted, Dean captured them wildly with his burning lips by delicately sucking the upper lip between his, giving soft bites. He bit your lower lip the same way again. With the same intensity, he followed your lead as you grabbed his upper lip and sucked like you were starving. On his lips, it was evident that your red lipstick was ruined. It appeared as though Dean was trying to get rid of the red color on your lips by sucking and biting them.

You let out a low moan as he finally put his tongue in your mouth with such force. His tongue was slowly but firmly invading your mouth, like if he meant to ruin you under him. Your hands, unable to think clearly any more, released his back and found his neck to draw him in closer than before.

Raising your hips of expressing to Dean that you were feeling desperate for anything to calm you down as you let him take control of the situation. Dean's touches were all that you needed. You hadn't touched him since the night you spent together. Your heart clenched with pain and desires.

Your moans were silent, and Dean's torment lingered on your lips. There were wet sounds all across the room, as if your tongues were striving for supremacy over one another. Your cheeks turned red as you focused on the obscene noises that your mouth made.

You were aware that the more he touched you, the more your emotions would consume you, and that you were never going to be able to get a response from him. But you tried to concentrate on the here and now, blocking off the past and future. To feel Dean a little bit longer was all that was necessary.

Dean got the message, and with a single move, his tongue was more dominant in your mouth the moment he pressed his hardness between your legs, finally making you feel him. His fingers were pulling your underwear rather aggressively now. It seemed as though you two lost control.

Although Dean knew he should have stopped and gathered himself, he wasn't finding it any easier when he sensed you were unintentionally attempting to find the pleasure. He was going wild by your tiny nursing dress and scarlet underwear. His body was yelling for him to have the much-needed relief. Ever since he fucked Jo that terrible night, he'd craved this. His body was wildly yearning for yours. It was hard for Dean to pull away. It didn't matter at that time why they had joined the party or why they were going to kill the ghost. It was difficult to stop his body from reacting to you while he was touching you in this way and seeing how ready you were to surrender to him.

Dean drew back, his tongue finding your neck and taking delicate bites that left your lips burning. You had to moan aloud this time as he sucked the delicate spot on your neck. When Dean suddenly pressed himself on you, you both moaned and felt your pussy throbbing.

He bit and sucked the most sensitive parts of your neck before glancing at your burning lips. He was harder than ever because your lipstick had been ruined and you were still holding out hope for him to continue.

Dean carefully put his fingers into your underwear while studying your response. All you did was gaze at him needily and passionately, yet he would stop at any moment if he sensed any hesitation on your part. There was no hesitation in your eyes, though. That was plenty to push Dean over the edge.

You both let out a gasp when he pushed his fingers into your panties. Just by kissing, you were shamefully wrecked, but you hoped it wasn't wrong.

“Dean,” you murmured quietly. He was too blind to notice your love for him, but your voice was nervous and full of love that you couldn't or wouldn't put into words. You wanted him to be nearer. You needed to know that he truly noticed you.

Without uttering a word, he kept rubbing you through your wet underwear while staring straight into your eyes and driving you insane. Placing your hands on his back, you recklessly widened your legs to give him a little extra space. You needed to give him more of what was left of you to feel him more. You would never, ever turn him down. He had to know that.

Dean inhaled deeply and then, unable to contain his throbbing cock any longer, slipped your moist panties aside to check your level of wetness, exposing you while he moved your body slightly to take up a better position. After having fucked you for the first time, he was in desperate need of that. His thoughts wanted you, and until he fucked Jo, he had no idea how wonderful it truly felt. Denying his surroundings and the place you were, Dean began to unzip himself with aggressive motions. Indeed, nothing matters. That was something you both needed. Right now.

He lowered your underwear just enough to expose your pussy, just enough to make your heart fall apart. Your body was shaking from excitement, nervousness, and cold. You waited for Dean to release his hardened cock while placing your unsteady hands on his broad shoulders. You inhaled deeply and made an effort to reduce your stress. You kept your eyes on him the entire time. Considering that he didn't use his fingers this time, you assumed it would happen quickly. Perhaps it was because you got used to his size.

With a swift motion, Dean lowered his pants to allow him to properly move on top of you and free his cock. He gave himself two or three strong strokes and moved your body somewhat further on the bed. He was getting ready himself as you were trying to regain your breath and admiring his attractive features. You would provide him with anything he needed or desired from you.

It didn't matter why you had come to this house or what your purpose was. Just the you and him. He saw you already becoming lost in the moment without closing his eyes. There was no need for words.

After giving you one more glance, Dean gently put his lips to yours, but this time he didn't kiss you. You gasped at the sensation of the cock's head on your entrance. Although you were no longer a virgin, your body felt stiffened. After all, you had only had sex once in your life. You have no prior knowledge of what to do or exactly what is expected.

When you tightened up even more, Dean scowled and sighed. He could see you had become soaked and practically pouring there, and your body was pleading with him to get in, but you were refusing to allow him. He pulled back his cock's head, and then he slightly pushed harder once again. You nailed his shoulders in a panic. He immediately pulled back upon noticing your distressed expression.

“Come on, you're wet enough,” Dean pressed his lips to yours. “Relax a little. Let me in.”

Your eyes got teary a little, but you weren't sure if it was from fear of disappointing him or of doing poorly. This seemed a little more distant than the first time, for some reason. You felt vulnerable. Sighing, you pressed your head into his neck to keep your face hidden and concentrated on calming down the way Dean asked. Your hands were shaking on his back.

He praised you, “Good girl,” and carefully pushed his cock inside your pussy once more. You were overcome with emotions, even though his movements were considerate and gentle to put you at ease. Dean kept praising you and said, “You're doing so good,” when he noticed that you were beginning to loosen up and let him in. “Almost there. Just a little bit more.”

“How come you're so tight?” When he finally managed to push himself fully inside of you, Dean asked with a groan and a tinge of disbelief and confusion in his tone. He pulled back, then gave it a single shove to get his cock within. You put your lips to his neck and pressed in your moans.

Dean waited inside for a while after he completely pushed his cock to allow you some time to catch your breath. Dean was certain he wouldn't last long because of how tightly you were clenching around him. He inhaled deeply and buried his head on your neck to avoid coming too soon. He had to make sure you got what you needed.

“You okay?” When you eventually start to calm down, Dean asked softly. He held back, even though he was going crazy to move already.

You silently nodded "yes," waiting for him to continue.

Your body was hot and yearning for pleasure, but unlike the previous time, you were unable to stop sorrow from taking over your heart and making you feel nearly awful. You didn't understand what was wrong with you. Dean was all you needed, and he was right here, inside of you, kissing you the way you wanted. You were touching each other like you had always wanted. But you had a feeling that it wasn't what you had hoped for or expected.

Dean took a moment to draw back slightly before pushing again, just to make sure you were ready. Instead of closing his eyes, he made every effort to focus on his surroundings and the sounds that surrounded him. He wanted to see your lovely and flushed face the entire time and watch your desire, but he had to keep his eyes on the surroundings and not lose himself watching you since there was a strong chance that he might be stopped at any moment by a ghost. As much as possible, he had to maintain his composure and act responsibly.

You heard Dean moan in a low voice as he began to move on top of you, as if he wanted to maintain his composure and not get carried away with what was happening. You were facing his neck as he shifted on top of you, so you gently pushed your lips there as he pounded his hard cock inside of you.

Your bodies created loud noises, and Dean's hands waited on your cheeks as if he were doing his hardest to please you. His cloak concealed your bodies as your legs were wrapped around his back. You were clenching around him constantly and getting wetter by the second, but you were not able to experience the intimacy you so much craved. With desperation and affection, your shaky hands found his jaw and caressed him. Eventually, you worked up the strength to try to bring his face toward you so you could kiss him.

Dean resisted your touch, gently pushing your hands away as he accelerated his pace inside of you.

Your mind raced with ideas as sadness shattered your mind and soul; you let go hands away with shame, with a heavy heart. You stopped kissing his neck since you didn't know where to place your hands anymore and waited beneath him so that he could at least enjoy himself. You were unsure about what to do. If he led you, it would be better. He began to groan as his rhythm intensified, but you forced yourself not to touch him. Your soul was wrecked by rejection.

Even though your body enjoyed being with him and the image of his enjoying himself on your body thrilled you, you were unable to stop those awful thoughts from racing through your head. It seemed as though your soul was being torn apart. This seemed less intimate than the first time. Your eyes uncontrollably started to well up with tears as your heart began to hurt so much. Being in Dean's arms and caressing him was something you had craved, but every time you felt like you were slipping further away.

You got consumed in your own thoughts and found it difficult to get the bravery to look into Dean's face. You wanted him to feel good. You needed him to enjoy you and what you were doing.

You found yourself sobbing aloud, just when Dean's motions inside of you became sloppy and his hands tightened around yours.

Dean froze on you the instant he heard your sobbing and cautiously pulled off his cock. Dean muttered, “Fuck!” upon seeing your face. His tone and the way he was staring at you made it clear that he was terrified and concerned.

You wept, trying to draw him back with trembling hands, but he resisted. “I'm sorry,” you said. You were embarrassed to let your vulnerability ruin the long-awaited situation.

“Hey, calm down,” Dean mumbled as he hastily tucked himself in his pants to take good care of you and figure out what was happening.

Even if you stated, “I'm alright. I swear, Dean,” he just regretfully fixed your clothes and underwear carefully. He shouldn't have let things get out of hand. He was unable to remember if he hurt you by moving too quickly or too roughly. His heart was heavy with regret at seeing your teary cheeks and hurt face. He had messed up badly this time.

You felt like a spoilt child getting help from him. Your legs were shaking from anxiety and cold, and you simply felt horrible. You couldn't contain your emotions and kept crying longer since he didn't even finish, and you made him feel bad rather than satisfying him. You weren't sure if you were actually ill or just lovesick. You just ruined a chance to spend good time with Dean, something you can no longer afford.

You sobbed more because you knew he would probably not touch you again.

He said in agony, “You're trembling,” and helped you sit on the bed.

Not even your bed, nor his.

Just as you were going to persuade him, you felt so bad that you had no energy left to utter any more lies. You were sick.

Dean waited silently, contemplating the events that had transpired five minutes ago and unsure of how to respond to handle it. He was as confused about what was happening. It was possible that Dean was being harsh with you, even if he didn't think so. He glared and sighed with regret at the thought of perhaps physically harming you. All he knew was that something was wrong. He didn't speak or touch you to avoid making you feel worse.

He was lost in thought and simply waited alongside you. Then someone knocked the door.

Next Chapter

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A/N: That was a looong-ass chapter huhh.. I thought about rewriting many times, but here we are. Please, let me know what you think about this one. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! Remember writers have a praise kink, haha. ^^

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[malertop]

!poly Billy Loomis x Stu Macher x Male Reader

FIRST TIME

Gif is not mine!

Stu,Billy and Y/N were secretly dating,Stu Macher was obsessed and overprotective with Y/N just like how much Billy was.Y/N was now in one of Stu's famous parties,Y/N wasn't the type of person to go to party,he liked reading books,study,quite..or otherwise you can just you say he was a big nerd,but that didn't stop Billy and Stu to date him and (love) like him.He owns them,they own him and that should be known.But today the party was different because in this party Stu wanted to lose his virginity to Y/N and he made sure he wanted to as much as possible,he called Y/N and told him to go to his room to find something for him which was obviously a lie but he had to get him in his room so he could have sex with him.Stu just entered his room now and saw Y/N sitting in his bed and when he just made eye contact with Stu,Stu just jumped and started kissing Y/N roughly but with love,a lot of love.As him and Y/N we're kissing Stu started to undress himself,Now Stu was shirtless which confused Y/N by his actions and why he is undressing himself,after 5 more minutes of kissing Y/N finally pulled and said "Stu...Stu..." he said while trying to catch his breath "Why are..are you undressing yourself..and..you took all my breath oh my god" Y/N was still out of breath as Stu watched him with a smirk and while Y/N was taking deep breaths he started stripping Infront of Y/N which just shocked him,now Y/N shocked and Stu naked we're next to each other in his king size bed.

"Y/N you don't know how long I've waited for this" Stu said with a smile while Y/N was confused,shocked and all blushy like a tomato "w-wait what,waited for what?" Y/N said with a confused look while Stu was still smiling and then the smile turned into a smirk "for you to fuck me of course!" Stu said as he turned and now Y/N was facing Stu's ass "please Y/N pull that cucumber out of my pussy~" Stu said with a smirk and Y/N could tell by the way he said it,Y/N then grabbed the little peace of the cucumber that was left and couldn't fit inside of his ass and started to pull out while Stu was kind of moaning,Y/N pulled out the whole cucumber out of Stu's asshole which now was wrecked and very much opened "now it's..it's open just for you...so..so fuck my ass and let me lose my virginity Y/N..please!" Stu started begging as he was also taking his breath while Y/N started to get hard then Stu turned to face the other male who was with him.

Stu looked at him in the eyes and after a second he started to kiss Y/N again,while kissing he grabbed Y/N's hand and started rubbing his fingers all around his ass,teasing him and hiss asshole at the same time and fuck he enjoyed it,after more of the rubbing and Y/N out of breath he stopped and pulled out from the kiss,now he was looking at Y/N and then lay down on his bed and put his legs in the air revealing his pink little asshole "C'mon Y/N" as Stu said that he slapped his hole with his hands and continued to talk "fuck that pink little hole and make it into a mess just like that cucumber made it" Stu slapped his hole again "just let me have that cum of yours" he slapped his hole again "all over my ass and all over it" he slapped his hole "PLEASE Y/N JUST FUCK MY PUSSY DUDE!"

Stu said in a tone that sounded like he was about to cry which obviously he used just to get what he wanted and needed,Y/N just looked at his lover and just couldn't handle it and so he pulled of his pants and underwear leaving himself only with his shirt which revealed his big thick dick which shocked Stu completely then Y/N started getting closer to the male who was smiling,Y/N was now facing the laying Stu face and his ass "C'mon dude,just fuck my cunt with your big...big..big dick" Stu said as Y/N's dick hipnotized him and just after a second Stu's eyes winded up as he moaned "oh fuck!" Stu moaned as Y/N started to enter inside of him.

Y/N was thrusting more and more inside of Stu's ass while Stu was just basically loosing his mind,moaning and begging for Y/N to be faster and Y/N just followed his order "Fuc-Fuck it hurts so good" Stu said as his head fall back from the enjoyment "Fuck that pussy Y/N~" Stu said as his eyes rolled from the enjoyment "fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck,fuck my cunt deep just like that Y/N, of fuck fuck fuck fuck my cunt..oh my fucking cunt!" Stu said as Y/N's dick could have been seen inside of Stu's stomach "Fuck your wrecking me baby..wrecking that boy pussy so bad..so fu-ungh..ungh oh-oh-oh ye-ye-yeah" Stu kept moaning as Y/N was about to cum soon "Stu..Stu I think i will cum" "Cum inside me,make that pussy pregnant Y/N...fuck,make that pussy pregnant with you seed!~" as Stu said this Y/N couldn't help it but cum inside of his asshole while Stu kept moaning feeling Y/N's seed flowing inside for his asshole,but the cum didn't stop and Y/N eyes crossed as he moaned abd took his dick with one hand and pushed out of Stu's ass thinking it would stop but he continued to cum on Stu's ass "oh fuck" Y/N said as his cum finally stopped,Y/N came in Stu's ass,on top his ass and even in Stu's blanket "Fuck...that was amazing" Stu said as his own ass gaped and pushed out Y/N's seed "fuck...Y/N...you ruined my boy cunt...fuck my boy cunt is ruined" Stu said this as a joke,even tho it was and wasn't with a weak voice,he enjoyed every second of it "..You know...Billy wants to lose his virginity too.." Stu said panting as well as an offer and then Billy entered "I am so not walking tomorrow...am i?" Y/N said in a tired voice while Billy was already started to undress him"Nope" Stu said and looked at Billy who smirked while looked at Stu's gaping hole and then looked at Y/N and said "Oh babe..i am just the next Stu~".

[tamayakii]

Hi I read your post about yan!Tywin and that you have more inc*st headcanons about him and I’m interested if you’re cool with that 🫣

hehe thank you anon for giving me the chance to talk about this <3

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, incest, yandere themes, female!reader, nsfw, is it bare or bear, tama asks herself BY PROCEEDING PAST THIS WARNING, YOU ARE THEREFORE CONSENTING TO VIEW THIS CONTENT.

Being Tywin's pretty pretty girl, dressed in the finest of silks and jewelry, the lady of the rock from a young age.

Whilst, of course, you weren't married, people came to view you as Lady of the Rock, which ofc didnt help with Tywin's delusions.

Okay but listen, him HIDING your monthly bleed from the world. Threatening maids that if a slip of your monthly bleed comes out that they’d lose their eyes. So westeros comes to know you as a woman with no viable womb, right? that means you have no value in being married off cause you “can’t bear children” therefore you’d his, no one would fight for your hand.

Losing your virginity to Papa Tywin, riding the same cock that helped made you, imagine a little bit of blood seepin on his cock when he first thrusts into you 😭😭 the same blood that flows through him, smeared across his loins.

BUT IMAGINE PAPA TYWIN BRINGING YOU TO THE RED KEEP WHEN HES HAND OF THE KING :(( you can’t fuck more openly now, back his casterly rock he had more control but in the castle where the rodents kill the cats, it’s a death sentence to be found out.

THAT MAN SUCKS TITTY!! i just know it!! hes a rough one too, harshly sucking on his granddaughters tits whilst sitting at his desk, palming your hips as you grind against him.

For awhile he was reasonable, you couldn’t be with child, at least to the world but as his delusions deepen, he tampers with your moon tea, and practically locks you in your room.

You’re HIS alone, HE made you.

Any man that offers his hand to you is gone, any winning knight that names you the queen of love and beauty in tournaments is suddenly crippled for life.

Your entire LIFE is controlled by him, i cannot emphasize this enough. The very air you breathe might as well be permitted by him, your meals are controlled, you garden time- oh and the GARDEN WALKS!!! When Tywin has a little time to spare and you bat your eyelashes at him, he finds that he can stomach a walk around the beautiful flowers(tho they arent as beautiful as you), servants tending to the bushes and trees find that you cling a little too close, lips a little too pouted and breasts pushed against his arm a bit much but can they say a word? no.