#doctor strange x f!reader

[darsynia]

Upside Down and Backwards | Oneshot

I'm glad I worked out the angle that made this story less a rehash of Animate Objects, because I enjoyed writing it and wanted to share! I wanted to add I am deeply honored that you suggested that I write one of your OCs. I was so touched I kind of blocked that out the first time, my dear @sobeautifullyobsessed, because I didn't know what to say, and I feel like that was a disservice to you.

Summary: Stephen understands why the best place to train new devotees to the Mystic Arts is Kamar Taj when he impulsively saves the life of a young woman. It turns out he trained himself on all sorts of mindfulness-- except for the kind where he sees someone he wants and steals her from fate's grasp without thought to the consequences.

Length/Warnings: 2,544 / rated T for swearing

UPSIDE DOWN AND BACKWARDS

The problem with having access to actual magic is that in the real world, you’re not instantly granted the discernment to use it un-chaotically.

In retrospect, that was probably why the Ancient One and her predecessors trained people in Kamar Taj: to keep large mistakes at a minimum.

It’s not that Stephen thinks of himself as a novice, it’s just that he’s recently gone through a sequence of life-changing events, and that kind of thing changes a man. Enough to make him incapable of watching someone else go through a life- ending event without intervening.

The moment had been simple enough; one second he was standing in front of his favorite cafe with a to-go cup, the next he was sending you into the mirror dimension with a sweep of his hand. The old man’s sedan didn’t hit you, instead crashing into the building across the street with considerably less energy than it would have without Stephen’s interference. Everything happened fast enough that he was able to jog across the street, enter the mirror dimension to find you standing dumbstruck and confused. He’d led you out through a portal back to a nearby alleyway, and before you could say anything, Stephen had portaled back to the Sanctum.

It wasn't until he went to take his first sip of his coffee that he noticed it was gone.

A mysterious stranger saved your life. He’d also given you coffee.

It’s days later, and you’re still bemused. You’d gone home and looked up ‘Avengers’ in an incognito window, but none of the pictures had looked familiar. Statistically speaking, those particular heroes are unlikely to be the only ones who exist, but you’re understandably obsessed by how and why you were saved. 

The only other clue you have is the coffee he’d handed you, and since today is your day off, you head down to the cafe it came from, seeking answers. 

You’re in luck: the barista recognizes your description of the man (you’re not surprised. He’s distinctive and handsome, certainly memorable), remembers the drink he usually gets, and only then thinks to tell you that he’d been there ten minutes ago.

“Do you know where he came from?” you ask, and the barista gives you a sly look. “He saved my life,” you explain, feeling oddly like that should be a secret between yourself and the stranger, somehow. “I ended up with his coffee-- I just want to return the favor.” --and ask him a million questions, confront him about how in the heck he did what he did, where he came from, where he’s going, whether he’d maybe like to have coffee WITH you sometime--

This seems to earn you the young woman’s trust, and she points out which way to head. You don’t think you can catch up, but it’s a nice day, and you don’t know how else to find him.

Five minutes into your hurried pace, though, you suddenly find yourself in a garden, with no idea how you got there. You catch a glimpse of golden sparks in your peripheral vision, and alarm floods your senses. Determined not to go down without a fight, you take the lid off of your piping hot coffee, tossing the liquid at the tall figure that’s approaching you.

“Aurghhhh!” the man hollers, as you drop into the kind of fighting stance you’ve seen on tv shows. He moves his hands in a strange way, and an odd blue light flickers to life, bathing his body in its glow for a few seconds, before he straightens and frowns at you. “I suppose I deserved that.”

It’s your handsome (somehow dry and un-stained) stranger.

“What do you want?” you say, snatching your keys from your pocket and trying to arrange them between your knuckles like you’d seen in a YouTube video once. The man is silent, and you look over to see his skeptical expression, complete with expressive eyebrows. “Just because you have magical powers doesn’t mean I give in without a fight!” you grumble.

“No, no, I’m impressed,” your captor says.

He sounds anything but. You try to take in your surroundings in a way that won’t reveal your next move, but he gestures to the courtyard that borders the small garden you’re standing inside.

“I thought the garden would be soothing. A non-threatening space.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Are there mountains in the distance? You back up a little bit, adjusting your stance so there’s a column in the way of the view you refuse to believe is real. The man before you is similarly unrealistic; handsome, clearly powerful in a mysterious way, and confident. Your fatal weakness.

The man is nodding. “All right, in retrospect, kidnapping you after wordlessly saving your life using inexplicable means is the opposite of reassuring. I swear, when I planned this, it wasn’t supposed to turn out this way!”

“So you’re admitting to premeditated kidnapping? Smooth, real smooth,” you say, sidestepping to stand next to instead of in front of the plant you’d been cowering near. There’s a wooden sign on a stake planted in the ground next to it, and you intend on grabbing it in a minute. Unfortunately, you’ve telegraphed your intentions.

“Will you just--” he says in an exasperated voice-- and suddenly, you’re being lifted in midair in a haze of golden magic. “Listen to me?”

“You’re really used to getting your way, aren’t you?” you blurt out. For some reason, the man’s bizarre blunders and frustration are reassuring in ways his grandiose displays are not. Not that you’re going to tell him that. He’d probably look smug and then you’d really be in trouble.

His brows are furrowed. “Yes, actually.”

“How long has it been since you’ve needed to say please?” The man’s hands drop to his sides, consequently dropping you to your feet. You’re rather proud of the way you manage to keep your balance, in the face of all of this. To press your advantage, you say, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I was taught the golden rule. Do unto others, and all that. So: please explain what the everliving heck is going on?”

He should be angry. He should be affronted. Instead, Stephen’s captivated. You are uncowed, unsoothable, and somehow undaunted in the face of everything he’s done. Hell, he’d almost accidentally dropped you on your ass, and you’d landed on your feet.

“‘What’s going on?’ I thought I saved a damsel in distress, but it turns out I’ve abducted a wildcat instead!” he says, just to see what your reaction will be. 

“Exactly what would you expect a person to do in this situation?” You are incredulous, but even so, you seem to be looking around for a weapon of some sort.

All of a sudden, it strikes him that you might be unconsciously ramping up based on his own vehemence. Taking in a deep breath, he connects with the mindfulness he’d only touched lightly back in his surgeon days, the kind he’d perfected in his first months at Kamar Taj. You’d been tensing up like you were about to run, maybe grab hold of something nearby, but you let out a breath of your own and watch him.

“Frankly, I’d expect you to be afraid of my power,” he says quietly, sliding a casual hand into his trouser pocket. “I’m not in the whole sorcerer getup today.” Stephen leans forward conspiratorially, adding, “I feel certain if I were, you’d have been a little cowed.”

“I do recall some kind of blue contraption,” you muse.

Contraption! He almost, almost gets upset, but as Stephen circles you to slough off some of his frustration, he sees a bit of a twinkle in your eyes. You do seem attuned to him-- but that doesn’t mean you’ve ceased fighting back.

You’re just doing it in a different way.

“All right, Java Joe the All Powerful, what do you really want? I could have plans you’re disrupting with this, you know.”

Java Joe? You fight dirty, it seems. He stops in his tracks to slowly turn toward you. For a long moment, the two of you look at each other, and he watches the signs of embarrassment rise in your body language. Even so, you don’t look away despite starting to shift your weight from foot to foot, and he feels something stir deep inside.

Right as your hands start to jitter at your sides, Stephen raises a single eyebrow.

You burst out laughing.

Stephen grits his teeth and waits, but not because he’s annoyed. Oh, no. It’s worse than that. He grits his teeth to prevent a smile. You’re a handful, and he’s been alone a long time.

“Well played,” you finally say, lifting your chin. “I’d ask forgiveness for the shitty coffee nickname, but I don’t think your dignity suffered a whit there. I just have to ask: have you ever looked at yourself when you lift an eyebrow like that? It’s just the most--” 

“Go on.”

You angle your head sideways at the tone of his voice, your eyes narrowing, and Stephen’s breath catches. Is there a way you can sense his inner turmoil?

It seems that you can, because you step forward. “I was going to say it was very dramatic, maybe even villainous, but I’ve changed my mind about you. You’re no villain.”

“Am I meant to be disappointed?” Stephen can’t help but ask.

Your smile is lovely, sending another tremor toward his heart’s hastily-erected sheath of armor. “Not at all, because I think you know that heroes are still dangerous. I can rephrase, if you like.” With a regal dignity that makes him mentally dress you as some kind of Roman empress, you bow before him, pulling yourself back up to a stand as you say, “All Powerful one, tell me why I’m here?” You meet his gaze and brazenly raise a single eyebrow of your own.

In that moment, Stephen understands why he’d saved you. He wants you. He’d somehow known that in the split second your paths crossed-- but would he have done it if he’d realized that by saving your life, he might end up being responsible for it?

“Hardly ‘all powerful,’ but close,” he says smoothly, walking closer. Only when he’s inches away and you’re still standing tall and unafraid does Stephen speak again. “I wanted to know what you thought happened that day. Then I didn’t want you to lash out before I got to--” he breaks off, surprised at himself. The things he wants to say, the things he wants to do, they’re not ‘day we met’ kinds of things.

They might be, though, if your time is short.

“What is it?” you murmur, looking worried again.

Stephen smiles, feeling the sweetness along with the bitter realization that his gut is usually right. If it is, he might have a fight with fate on his hands.

“I stole you away,” he whispers. It’s been forever since he’s done this, snatched someone from death’s grasp. Usually he puts them back together better than nature had. He’s never put someone back together with magic before. “I suppose I’m afraid I don’t get to keep you.”

The words fall out before he can stop them, but you drift forward rather than back, as though the seismic sway he’s been feeling might have harmony to it.

“Before I react to that, tell me what you mean?” you say, your eyes searching his.

“I hadn’t meant to say--” Stephen starts, but shakes his head decisively. “I’ve saved lives before, with skill. I don’t know whether there are different rules for lives saved with magic.”

Your eyes widen, but with awe, not fear. “So you really mean ‘keep,’ don’t you! You think some sort of Cosmic Conservator will come and fix the glitch?” Stephen nods. “Who says you’re not the Conservator?”

With the same split-second impulsiveness that he used to save your life, Stephen reaches out and draws the back of his fingers across your cheek. The touch is electric, stunning his vocal cords to a deeper register. 

“Would a Conservator do this?” he says, right before his lips brush yours.

You’re delighted by the shocking heat of his touch. There’s an instant yearning that takes over both of you after that first testing press, as though it could be possible to attune to a person’s charge within seconds of tasting them.

Somehow, without knowing his name, you trust this man, both as a function of seeing his frustration (something almost as intimate as feeling the prickle of his beard as the kiss goes on), and knowing he’s saved you at least once. There’s something desperately moral about him, almost arrogantly so, and you tug him closer, hoping to spark more frustration and thus another thrill.

From across the courtyard, there’s the sound of voices, of many feet, and you slide your hands down from clutching his collar to press on his chest, reluctant to stop but unsure of your surroundings. The man gentles the kiss so sweetly that you’re left reeling when he does pull back.

“My name is Stephen,” he whispers with a thin, vulnerable smile. “I’m doing this all out of order, and I have to make you angry with me again, because--”

Breaking off without explanation, Stephen pulls you to his side and swings one hand in a circle in front of you, drawing up the golden electricity you’d seen more than once before. It leads to the very spot he’d kidnapped you from.

“You left me with a coffee, last time. Is the kiss more valuable, do you think?” you say, clasping your arms around yourself to bolster your stung confidence. 

Stephen’s response is another unexpected kiss, brief but heartfelt. He leads you through the sparking archway right afterwards, his expression stern but earnest as he takes your hand.

“Why do I feel like I’m already in danger of leaving my heart behind?” he whispers, shaking his head as though he’s as stunned at the possibility as you are. It feels right, though, and you want to tell him that, but Stephen stops you. “Hold still, I--” 

His hands are already moving, generating neon runic symbols in the air that hover for a few seconds before rushing towards you to disappear in splashes of magical light.

“Protection spell. I have to go, but something tells me you'll subsist on curiosity and fury until I can step away again.”

“That’s a given,” you manage to say through the spinning of your heart and head. Things like this don’t happen to ordinary people like you, but you suppose that no one is ordinary, once Stephen takes notice of them. “Stephen?” you blurt out, after he steps back, obviously about to leave. He lifts his eyebrows, and you say, “Take care of it, will you?”

“Of?”

“The part of my heart you stole away. We still have to find out whether it belongs to you or Death, right?”

Stephen’s grin is blinding. “Right. I’ll, ah…” he steps back into the halo of his portal and lifts his chin, a picture of utter confidence. “I’ll pull some strings.”

His smile is the last thing you see as the whirl of the portal closes between you.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Wandavision (The Scarlet Witch Saga, Part I)

Summary: (Y/N) meets with S.W.O.R.D.’s Director Hayward in an attempt to reclaim Vision’s remains for burial but after Wanda makes an unexpected and hostile appearance at their headquarters, both women uncover far more than they’d originally bargained for…

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! Sorry it's been so long between stories, but I've been taking care of my mother post-hip replacement surgery and I haven't had very much free time to write. However, I found the time to finish this little angst-filled one-shot up, so yay! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Wandavision Part I of The Scarlet Witch Saga November 2023 S.W.O.R.D. Headquarters, Florida (Superhero Snapshots Masterlist)

“I’m sorry, Mrs. (Y/L/N), but Director Hayward’s itinerary is completely booked-”

“And yet, I was assured over the phone by his secretary that he would finally be available to meet with me today at eleven o’clock, which is…” (Y/N) made a show of pulling back the sleeve of her blouse to look at her watch. “Right now. I don’t appreciate being given the runaround, so I suggest that you give his office another buzz before I come back with a few Avengers; believe me, they won’t be as friendly and accommodating as I am.”

The security guard gulped, snatching up his phone’s handset and hastily punching in the extension to Director Hayward’s office as (Y/N) leaned against his desk and looked up at the towering screens that lined the lobby’s walls. News footage from all across the world played one after the other, each of them depicting families being reunited and celebrations taking place in the wake of the Battle of Earth, and a wistful smile tugged on the corner of her lip. Although it had been nearly three weeks since they’d completed their Time Heist and Bruce utilized the Infinity Stones to bring the Vanished back, she still couldn’t quite believe that they’d done it; Carina, Sam, Bucky and every other friend and teammate they’d lost that traumatic day five years ago in Wakanda was back. But as the news footage changed to coverage of Tony and Natasha’s deaths and all the memorial services being held across the world in their honor, (Y/N)’s smile fell and she quickly averted her gaze from the screens.

In the wake of Tony and Natasha’s deaths, it had fallen to (Y/N) to pay a visit to S.W.O.R.D.’s headquarters in Florida to retrieve Vision’s body and arrange for his burial. Fury had pulled several strings before departing for space and finally managed to uncover where the android’s body was being held, even going so far as to discover that there were several proposed plans floating around the organization to study his remains for the development of high-tech weapons. Since her fellow Avengers were busy helping to re-stabilize Earth and countless other planets across the galaxy and Steve was at home with Carina – and, as far as the rest of the world was concerned, Steve Rogers was presumed dead after the Battle of Earth – (Y/N) volunteered to represent the Avengers in a meeting with Director Tyler Hayward to discuss the return of the fallen Avenger’s body. Now, why do I get the feeling that S.W.O.R.D. isn’t just going to hand over Vis out of the goodness of their hearts, she thought to herself with a frustrated sigh, mindful of the half-healed cut across her stomach (an aggravating physical memento from her brief clash with Thanos) as she straightened her posture and looked out at the bustling lobby.

“Oh shit…” (Y/N) swore under her breath as she spotted none other than Wanda Maximoff striding towards the security guard’s desk; the younger woman’s expression was nothing short of incensed, with her green eyes blazing and her lips pressed into the thinnest of lines, but her expression subtly softened when her gaze landed on (Y/N). With the memory of Wanda’s near-defeat of the Mad Titan still fresh in her mind, she pushed herself off the desk and stepped forward to deescalate the situation before it began. “Wanda, I tried to call but all I got was your voicemail-”

“I was tracking down a lead when you called, and I came down here the moment I listened to your message,” The younger woman interrupted, and she looked around the busy lobby with an air of suspicion. “So, this Director Hayward has agreed to meet with you?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yes, but now that I’m here, they’re trying to tell me that I was never penciled in and that his schedule’s fully booked for today.”

Wanda’s eyes briefly glowed scarlet as her lip curled up and without another word, she brushed past (Y/N) and stormed up to the security guard’s desk. “I know you have him.”

“I-I’m sorry, but like I already told Mrs. (Y/L/N)-”

“Please…” She trailed off when she spotted the nearest armed guards tighten their grips on their weapons and while (Y/N) cautiously moved to stand beside her, she took a steadying breath and forced herself to calmly continued. “Please. When I came back, he was gone. His body…” Her voice shook with barely-restrained emotion and her fingers anxiously tugged on the cuff of her jacket’s sleeve. “And I know he’s here. He deserves a funeral, at least. I deserve it.”

The security guard’s growing discomfort was alleviated by the ringing of his desk phone; with a barely-perceptible sigh of relief, he snatched up the receiver and listened to the speaker on the other end of the line. “Yes, sir. Yeah, she’s still here.” Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) watched Wanda stare intently at the security camera affixed to the wall behind the desk and a shiver ran down her spine; I’ve got a bad feeling about all this, she thought to herself, her fingers anxiously twisting her wedding ring around and around her finger. “Are you sure? O-Of course…” The security guard’s forehead was beaded with sweat as he set the receiver down and looked back up at (Y/N). “Through the doors, down the hall. Two lefts and a right.” Wanda pushed herself off the desk and started towards the guarded double doors off to the side, forcing (Y/N) to flash him a fleeting smile of thanks and hurry after her. “One moment, I have to buzz you in.”

“I got it, thanks!” Wanda’s voice dripped with sarcasm and before anyone could react, she lobbed a ball of scarlet-hued energy towards the locked double doors that forced them open, the walls shuddering as they slammed against them; ignoring the stares of dozens of security personnel, armed guards and employees and the uncomfortable tugging on her stitches, (Y/N) quickened her pace and fell into step with the younger woman. “You disapprove of my methods, don’t you?”

(Y/N) hummed thoughtfully and followed it up with a half-hearted shrug. “Well, they did try to waste my time back there, time that I’d much rather spend with my husband and newly-returned daughter, so I can’t say that I entirely disapprove. But Wanda…” They turned left and continued walking down the hall. “We’ve got to play this carefully. Do you know what S.W.O.R.D. stands for?”

“Honestly, I don’t care,” Wanda snapped, but quickly grew contrite when she caught sight of (Y/N)’s arched brow. “Sorry. What does it stand for?”

“Sentient Weapon Observation and Response Division. A few years ago, they redirected most of their resources to studying and developing robotics, nanotechnology and A.I.; they essentially stopped studying and began to both design and build their own weaponry.” They turned another corner and (Y/N) carefully weighed her words before continuing. “My point is that this organization might’ve once been dedicated to defending Earth from extra-terrestrial and extra-dimensional threats, but they’ve evolved into quite a formidable agency and one that won’t easily bow to external pressure. We’re Avengers and we just saved the world, but that doesn’t mean that things can’t and won’t go south if we burst into this asshat’s office and start making demands.”

Pursing her lips, Wanda ruminated on her statement and as they turned right into an empty hallway, she shook her head in disbelief. “So, you’re suggesting diplomacy for the organization that’s withholding my lover’s corpse from me?”

(Y/N)’s hand reached out to clasp Wanda’s forearm and she succeeded in halting their momentum for a moment; she looked around for any signs of security cameras or employees before lowering her voice and answering, “I’m suggesting self-preservation, Wanda; you know better than anybody how quickly these organizations can turn on someone the moment their interests stop aligning with theirs.” A lump of emotion formed in her throat and just as she’d done for nearly three weeks, she blinked away her tears and forced herself to smile. “Nat’ll come back from wherever she is and personally kick my ass if I let you end up in the Raft again.”

The younger woman’s green eyes softened, and the air hung heavy around them as they both thought about their fallen friend. “She would, wouldn’t she?” Taking a deep breath, she gently pried (Y/N)’s fingers away from her arm and gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “Self-preservation it is.”

They shared a look of understanding before continuing down the hallway and approaching a metal-plated door near its end; the engraved plaque on the wall beside it read ‘Level 101: Director’ and as they came to a stop, the electronic keycard reader below it blinked green and the lock clicked open. (Y/N) straightened her posture and opened the door, stepping into an impressive office and immediately fixing her gaze upon the salt-and-pepper haired man getting up from his desk to greet them. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Wanda Maximoff. It’s an honor to meet you both, truly.” (Y/N) reluctantly shook Director Hayward’s outstretched hand as he gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’d like to offer you my condolences, Mrs. (Y/L/N); your husband was a personal hero of mine, and his loss is a profound tragedy.”

It took a moment for (Y/N) to remember the lie that Nick Fury had helped to propagate and spread from the shadows for the past several weeks: that Steve Rogers was reported missing in action in the wake of the Battle of Earth and was presumed to have died while fighting Thanos. It was the lie they’d crafted together after he’d returned from his final mission de-serumed and steadfast in his desire to retire from the mantle he’d carried for decades in favor of a quiet life with (Y/N) and Carina, but it was a challenging one to maintain when she knew that he was safe at their home in Brooklyn with their daughter. Rearranging her features into a sorrowful expression with the ease of a trained spy, (Y/N) offered the older man a tight smile and nodded. “Thank you, Director.”

“Who are you?” Wanda demanded, her tone sharp and borderline accusatory as she took a step forward and pointedly refused to shake the director’s hand.

Director Hayward took her hostility in stride, lowering his hand and giving her a polite smile. “Director Tyler Hayward. I understand you’re both here to see the Vision – to recover the body, that is – is that right?”

“Well, I’m his next of kin,” She replied and gestured towards (Y/N). “And she’s here acting as the official representative of the Avengers in this matter.”

“I understand. I’d like to show you both something.”

The alarm bells had already begun to go off in (Y/N)’s head, but there was something about his statement and the glint in his eyes that immediately gave her pause. “And then you’ll give him to us?”

Instead of answering, Director Hayward crossed the room and opened a glass door for them to enter. “Please, just come with me.”

(Y/N) and Wanda exchanged a distrustful look before stepping through the doorway and into what appeared to be an observation room comprised of floor-to-ceiling glass windows and a set of armchairs. The buzzing and whirring of power tools nearby quickly drew (Y/N)’s attention, prompting her to walk up to the wall of glass and look down; the scene below reminded her of a mechanic’s garage, with four floodlights illuminating a handful of S.W.O.R.D. personnel dressed in protective gear, who were working to dismantle five separate sections of machinery as armed agents stood guard. The machinery’s unusual shade of maroon and uniquely-shaped panels of silver instantly drew her suspicion, and it only took her a moment to come to the sickening realization that what they were viewing was Vision’s unceremoniously dismembered corpse.

“Oh my God…” (Y/N) covered her mouth and stared down at the grisly scene below in horror, her stomach churning at the desecration of her friend’s body and her heart sinking when she caught a glimpse of Wanda’s confusion in the reflection of the glass as she took a step closer.

“What is this? Why are you showing us this?”

(Y/N) glanced over her shoulder to see a visibly puzzled Director Hayward’s head tilt to the side as he slowly answered, “Because you asked to see it.”

Tears prickled in (Y/N)’s eyes while Wanda looked back down into the laboratory; the color slowly drained from the younger woman’s face and her lip trembled with emotion when one of the S.W.O.R.D. scientists moved and revealed the decapitated head of her lover. A quiet sob escaped her and her hands came up to press against the glass, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from the synthezoid’s corpse. “Stop…stop…stop it!” She whirled around to face the director. “What are you doing to him?”

“We’re dismantling the most sophisticated, sentient weapon ever made.”

Wanda’s eyes filled with tears as she insistently shook her head. “But Vision’s not a weapon. You can’t do this!”

Unfazed by her emotional reaction, Director Hayward’s lips pursed together in an obvious attempt to appear sympathetic. “In fact, it is our legal and ethical obligation.”

“You know, I could’ve sworn that Vision was created using stolen vibranium from Wakanda, not America.” A surge of white-hot indignation filled (Y/N) as she faced the director and crossed her arms over her chest. “But what the hell do I know? I was only there the day that Ultron bought that vibranium off of Ulysses Klaue in Johannesburg.”

“The Vision signed the Sokovia Accords in 2016. With it, he established his personhood and shortly thereafter took the necessary steps to becoming a naturalized citizen of the United States of America.”

“Seriously, that’s what you’re going with?! You know as well as I do that the Sokovia Accords are currently in the process of being repealed, and all I have to do is call up the King of Wakanda to-”

“I just wanna bury him,” Wanda forcefully interrupted their escalating face off. “That’s all I want.”

Director Hayward’s hazel-colored eyes narrowed as he studied Wanda’s grief-stricken features. “Are you sure?”

A look of incredulity flashed in Wanda’s eyes and while (Y/N)’s brow furrowed in befuddlement, the younger woman recoiled away from the director. “Excuse me?”

“What exactly are you getting at, Director?” (Y/N) demanded.

“Not everyone has the kind of power that could bring their soulmate back online, Mrs. (Y/L/N).” There was a strange cadence in the older man’s voice that quickly put her on edge; seemingly realizing the strangeness of his statement, Director Hayward rearranged his features into a more apologetic expression. “Forgive me. Back to life.”

Wanda shook her head. “No, I-I can’t do that. It’s…that’s not why I’m here.”

“Okay. But I cannot allow you two to take three-billion dollars’ worth of vibranium just to put it in the ground.” While the younger woman turned back around to look down into the bustling laboratory below, (Y/N) paced the floor and shook her head in incredulity. “So, the best I can do is let you say goodbye to him here.”

Wanda’s hands moved to rest against the window as she softly replied, “He’s all that I have.”

“Well, that’s just it, Wanda. He isn’t yours.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to denounce the director’s callous words, but several things caught her attention all at the same time: the look of almost eager anticipation on Director Hayward’s face, the reflection of Wanda’s grief-stricken expression in the glass and the scarlet-hued energy beginning to emanate from the palms of her hands. With only a split-second advantage, (Y/N) spun away from the windows and shielded her head with her arms just as the glass shattered in a deafening explosion; the S.W.O.R.D. agents screamed and ran for cover as they were pelted with fragmented glass, and she could hear the armed guards collectively ready their weapons. (Y/N) lowered her arms in time to watch Wanda wave her glowing crimson hands and descend into the laboratory, seemingly transfixed by the remains of her deceased lover and unaware of the semi-automatic guns pointed directly at her.

“Wanda, no!” (Y/N) hurried over to the very edge of the floor and, ignoring the surge of fear in her stomach that came from her long-standing fear of heights, leaned forward for a closer vantage point.

“Fall back,” Director Hayward ordered, and the guards exchanged cautious glances with one another. “It’s fine. Let her see for herself.”

After a tense moment, the armed guards reluctantly lowered their weapons and steered clear as Wanda slowly approached the table containing Vision’s severed and lifeless head. Watching the younger woman hesitantly stretch her hand out and hover her glowing palm over the crater in her lover’s forehead, (Y/N)’s heart clenched in sympathy and she found herself once again cursing Thanos; although the Mad Titan was dead and gone, with his quest to destroy the universe successfully thwarted and the Infinity Stones returned to their rightful places, the overwhelming pain he’d caused them all would remain, and none would suffer under the weight of their grief more than Wanda Maximoff. By the time she’d reached her mid-twenties, Wanda had already lost her parents, her brother, her country, her mentor and her lover and while the rest of the Avengers could turn to their loved ones for support, she was entirely alone. It’s not fair, (Y/N) thought to herself as she watched the younger woman leave Vision’s side and walk through one of the laboratory’s emergency exits, she’s lost so much already and now she’s being denied the one thing that could possibly give her closure.

“I truly am sorry for your loss, Mrs. (Y/L/N), but seeing as he was a fully sentient synthezoid, I believe that the Vision would not only understand but fully support our good work here.”

The director’s words caused (Y/N)’s jaw to clench in anger and her carefully crafted control over her emotions to finally slip; whirling around to face him, she stood tall and unflinchingly stared him down, her fury only growing the longer she studied the artificial sympathy written across his face. “His name was Vision, just Vision, and you don’t know a damn thing about him. You’re a cruel, egotistical, half-baked warmonger who’d love nothing more than to bring that body down there back online to use as a weapon against anyone S.W.O.R.D. deems a threat.” She snorted in derision as the older man pursed his lips in irritation. “You’re no better than S.H.I E.L.D., Director, and you know as well as I do what’ll happen to your little chop shop down there when the Avengers find out what you’re up to.”

“What Avengers? A third of your group of circus freaks are off-world and a third are dead, leaving a half a dozen powerless and mentally-unstable vigilantes to burden us with their problems,” Director Hayward shot back, and the carefully-constructed façade he’d worn since they’d burst into his office finally fell away to reveal a snide smirk. “So I suggest that you stick to writing books and let the adults take over the protection of this planet.”

(Y/N) took a calculated step forward and stared unflinchingly into the director’s eyes for a moment before finally speaking, her tone calm and collected in contrast to his clear vindictiveness. “Believe it or not, I know what my limits are; after all, what can a best-selling historical-fiction novelist do besides make a few phone calls and write a scathing op-ed in a prestigious newspaper?” A humorless smile curved her lips upwards. “But you’re wrong about us ‘circus freaks,’ Director. Not only does Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes possess the highest security clearance that this country has to offer and is tasked with investigating those that the executive branch of our government suspects of breaking both national and international laws, the King of Wakanda has made it his personal mission to ensure that not an ounce of vibranium leaves his country’s sovereign borders; I’m sure that both men will be interested to learn all about your so-called legal and ethical obligation to horde stolen vibranium and how to attempted to goad a mourning Avenger into weaponizing it for you.”

Director Hayward visibly paled but still managed an incredulous scoff. “Is that a threat, Mrs. (Y/L/N)?”

“No, it’s a promise.” (Y/N) strode past the fuming director and through the observation room’s doorway, the shattered glass crunching beneath her high heels as she walked towards the office’s closed door; she grasped the door’s handle but paused, glancing over her shoulder to give Director Hayward one final glare. “Good luck, Director. You’re going to need it.”

Opening the door with more force than necessary, (Y/N) exited the director’s office and stormed down the hallways until she located the lobby, ignoring the security guard’s feeble farewell as she blinked away her tears of frustration and hurried to the front doors. She emerged out into the bright Floridian sun and was forced to shield her face with her hand in order to scan the packed parking lot for Wanda; spotting a burgundy Buick turning out onto the street and catching sight of the driver’s bold scarlet-hued hair, her heart sank into her stomach and she mentally kicked herself for not being quicker. Now she can add my name to the lengthy list of people who’ve failed Wanda Maximoff, (Y/N) thought as her shoulders dropped in dejection. While she pulled her cell phone out of her purse and texted Stephen Strange’s number, she tried not to linger on the memory of her friend’s heartbroken expression and the pain that had filled her green eyes while she grappled with the agony of losing Vision for a second time.

(Y/N): All finished here, eagerly anticipating a portal to get me the hell out of this godforsaken state S. Strange/The Wizard: Sounds like it went about as well as I’d anticipated… (Y/N): Oh, you have no idea ☹

A sparking orange portal appeared beside (Y/N) and whirled itself open to reveal her living room. Ignoring the handful of S.W.O.R.D. employees that were gawking from inside the building’s headquarters, she stepped through the portal and breathed a sigh of relief when the portal closed itself behind her, leaving her standing in her unruly but blessedly private home. They’d accepted Nick Fury’s offer of living in a temporary safehouse while they healed from their traumatic ordeals and acclimated themselves to civilian life, which meant that for the past week, their home was steadily piling high with taped-up moving boxes while they waited for Fury to finish making the final necessary arrangements for their new house; they’d still maintain ownership of their Brooklyn home, of course, but for the next several months, the (Y/L/N)-Rogers family would be calling the peaceful town of Rockport, Maine their home.

“We’re in here, sunshine,” Steve’s voice emanated from the kitchen. After tossing her purse onto the nearest armchair and kicking off her high heels, (Y/N) padded into the kitchen but froze halfway through the doorway at the unusual sight that she was met with; her husband was perched on a stool at the kitchen island with the sleeve of his shirt rolled up, his nose wrinkled in displeasure as a floating syringe punctured the skin of his small bicep, and Stephen Strange, dressed in full Master of the Mystic Arts regalia, was carefully manipulating the hovering syringe with magic as his blue-green eyes narrowed in concentration. “Bruce dropped off my last round of vaccinations; today’s Tdap, Varicella, MMR and an annual flu shot, so I’m feeling particularly pin-cushioney.”

“Well, I think you’ve been a very brave pin cushion, sweetheart.” With a sympathetic smile, (Y/N) crossed the room to where Steve was seated and kissed his cheek. “And all of your Band-Aids are very cute.”

Steve huffed in exaggerated dissatisfaction and Stephen’s lip curled up into his signature smirk; the sorcerer willed the empty syringe away and magically applied another Paw Patrol Band-Aid onto the former super-soldier’s bicep. “Just think, Rogers, in two weeks you’ll finally be able to be around your daughter without wearing a surgical mask, and your de-serumed life will officially begin.”

“Definitely something to look forward to,” Steve conceded, biting back a wince as he wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s waist and looked at her expectantly. “How’d your meeting with Director Hayward go?” She grimaced at his question and his expression fell. “That bad, huh?”

(Y/N) shrugged half-heartedly. “Wanda at least showed up but after seeing S.W.O.R.D.’s work firsthand, I wish she hadn’t come at all.”

While she recalled their contentious meeting with Director Hayward, she looked between both men and was struck by their differing reactions to her story; Steve was rightfully enraged on Wanda’s behalf for being denied a sliver of closure and beyond livid when he learned of the organization’s plans for the remains of his former teammate, but Stephen was primarily focused on Director Hayward’s comments regarding Wanda’s powers and the young woman’s momentary loss of control. (Y/N) arched a brow at the sorcerer’s piqued interest but didn’t address it, drawing the conclusion that as a Master of the Mystic Arts, he was naturally curious about powerful beings and their unique skill sets. They were both disgusted by the director’s callous behavior towards her after Wanda departed, with Steve’s jaw clenching tight and Stephen’s eyes narrowing as she spoke, and they both nodded in approval at her biting response to his cold-heartedness.

“I’ll give T’Challa and Rhodey a call to let them know what Hayward’s up to, but I’m afraid that that’s all I can really do.” (Y/N) let out a defeated sigh and twisted her wedding ring around her finger. “Fury made it clear that we can’t afford to draw any unusual attention to ourselves for the time being.”

Steve looked down at the marble countertop as guilt filled his azure eyes. “Because of me.”

“Steve…” Cupping his cheek, she gently coaxed him to look over at her and offered him a small smile of understanding. “After a lifetime spent prioritizing others, you finally chose to prioritize yourself and that shouldn’t make you feel an ounce of guilt. We may not be able to help Wanda ourselves, but we can pass along some very valuable information to the people who will.”

While the former super-soldier returned her smile with one of his own and gave her a chaste kiss, the sorcerer shrugged and leaned back against the kitchen counter. “All I can say is that it’s a real shame this can’t all be solved with a sling-ring, a portal and a little bit of grand theft.”

A soft whimpering began to emanate from the baby monitor resting atop the microwave, drawing (Y/N) and Steve’s immediate attention. “It must be time for Cari’s bottle; I’ll go get her while you start prepping it?” She hummed in agreement, turning to retrieve a clean bottle and a container of formula from the cabinet while Steve approached Stephen with his hand outstretched. “Thank you again for all your help today, Doc.”

“It’s nothing, really. In fact, I should be the one thanking you.” Stephen shook Steve’s hand and chuckled. “I don’t exactly get many opportunities to put my medical degrees to good use, so thanks for that.” After grabbing the baby monitor and donning a fresh surgical mask, Steve left the kitchen and Stephen turned his attention to (Y/N). “I wouldn’t worry too much about Wanda, (Y/N). I’ll keep an eye on her, check in from time to time and make sure she’s doing all right.”

(Y/N) screwed the cap back onto the full bottle and shook it as she studied the older man standing before her, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to his reasoning than selflessness. “You’re concerned about her powers.”

“…I’m more so intrigued by her powers; after all, reckless experimentation with an Infinity Stone somehow imbued her with enough power to nearly kill Thanos and made her one of the most formidable beings on this planet.” Stephen’s quaking fingers withdrew his sling-ring from his pocket and slipped it on with a half-smile. “As the Master of the New York Sanctum Sanctorum, it’s my responsibility to keep a list of every powerful or supernatural person in my general vicinity and after what you’ve just told me, Wanda Maximoff’s shot to the very top of it.”

Biting her lip, (Y/N) watched as the sorcerer waved his hand and created a sparking orange portal that opened into the sanctum’s foyer, contemplating his words before countering them. “I understand. Just don’t…don’t forget that even with all that power, she’s still just a person, Stephen. Promise me?”

“I won’t,” Stephen solemnly vowed, taking a step into the sanctum and turning to give her a small wave. “See you around, (Y/N).”

She smiled and waved back while he closed the portal and in an instant, she was left alone in her kitchen with her daughter’s bottle of formula clutched in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she worked to ground herself and avoid replaying the memories of Wanda’s losses and heartbreaks in her mind, but her effort was for naught; she recalled Clint carrying Pietro Maximoff’s body onto the helicarrier after evacuating Novi Grad, Wanda huddled in the corner of a tiny prison cell with a collar fastened around her neck, Vision using his last words to reassure his distraught lover as she used her powers to destroy him, the anguished cry that echoed throughout the Wakandan clearing when Thanos used the Time Stone to bring Vision back and rip the Mind Stone out of the android’s forehead, the emptiness that remained in Wanda’s eyes throughout Tony and Natasha’s funerals…

“Everything okay out there, baby?”

Shaken out of her memories, (Y/N) wiped away her tears and took another breath before calling back, “I was just seeing Stephen out; I’ll be right there!”

While she made her way through the house to their daughter’s nursery and beamed down at the cooing infant as she took her into her arms and sat down in the room’s rocking chair to feed her her bottle, (Y/N) took solace in the feeling of Steve’s arm draping around her shoulders and the adoration that illuminated Carina’s face. It isn’t fair, she thought again to herself as she absentmindedly hummed the Sokovian lullaby that had been taught to her by Wanda years before, it isn’t fair that we’ve gotten our happily ever after and Wanda’s all alone. With all she’d seen and done throughout the years, it would be foolish not to believe that there wasn’t some sort of higher power out there, so as she was surrounded by her beloved husband and daughter, (Y/N) sent a silent but earnest wish to that power that while she healed from her past traumas, Wanda Maximoff would finally find her own lasting happiness.

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

A/N: All I want is for Wanda to be happy, but I guess the universe continues to have other plans for her :/ Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5 

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist 

Stumblin' In Book VI: "Endgame" Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @fanficfandomlove @momc95 @savedbystyle @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @mads-weasley @username23345 @crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @crowleysqueenofhell @mary1raven @groovy-lady @ljej95 @toostrangerkid @prettysbliss

[i2sunric]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 (s.jy)

PAIRING: alpha!jake x omega!reader (f)

SUMMARY: being an omega was already hard, but being an omega with an alpha roommate was worse. especially during your heats. you’d lock yourself in your room, trying to ignore his strong scent and his presence, but jake has had enough of hearing pained wails. he’ll help you, even if he wasn’t your alpha (yet).

WARNINGS: omegaverse, roommates au, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), breeding kink, doggystyle, dirty talking, riding, cream pie, fingering, pussy eating, knotting (?) , heat and mentions of ruts, pet names (baby, good girl), mentions of pups (this feels strange idk), reader is a virgin, overstimulation, tits sucking (😋), mentions of pregnancy, manhandling, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 28th August 2024

WC: 4.2k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emisloves @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 (oneshot) @nyfwyeonjun @high-and-low-all-the-way @victorylr @jaeyunwon @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @nshmrarki @hchoes @entenen @heeseungshim @seungminsapuppy @starfallia @ratchet-sebooty @jakeyismine @laurradoesloveu @denleave1088 @weebgeek22 @victoriasimm @strxwbloody @love4hee @strayy-kidz @iheartshopping @isa942572 @hazycottagedreams @jky001 @haelahoops @chososloverfr @mitmit01 @icepriincehoon @kaykay11sworld @riribelle @coraldonutmagazine @seuomo @sn03 @hoonwonsoul @pinksweetlittlepiano @jiminie-08 @leiclerc BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED (adding the rest in the comments cause i can’t tag more than 50 ppl)

a/n: why do i always end my jake fics with a cliffhanger? it’s a mistery to me as well. i don’t really like how it turned out but i sincerely hope y’all do. idk much abt omegaverse and i searched on google most of the information, if it ain’t accurate let’s just say it’s caseyverse and call it a day. please REBLOG & COMMENT bcs only likes get me shadowbanned. also, lmk your thoughts on this fic 🫶🫶

You were prepared.

You had your favourite blankets, all your plushies, your phone and your charger.

You had even bought a mini fridge to keep enough food so that you would resist for at least three days.

Your heat was coming, you could feel it in your bones, which was the main reason as to why you were locked in your bedroom.

Taking the pill to stop the heat from coming was a good idea, especially since you didn’t have an alpha of your own, but the doctor refused to prescribe them, saying that they would really damage your health.

Because suffering for two to three days straight wasn’t.

Your skin was hot, too hot, sweat started gathering on your forehead, and sticking you to the sheets.

You laid on your bed, trying your best to even your breaths and willing your mind not to slip away.

You hated being an omega and going into heat, especially in summer. The weather affected it, making the pain unbearable.

As you thought about it, a sharp pain like a sting hit your lower stomach, you could feel your panties wetting with arousal.

A small yelp left your lips, your hips slowly bucking in the air to soothe the ache between your legs.

It was humiliating, the way your mind succumbed to the primal urge to mating, to being bred.

Suddenly, a soft knock came from the other side of the door and you scrunched your nose.

Jake, with his strong hormones scent, minty but musky at the same time. You normally could live with it, he was good at hiding his scent so as not to bother you and you hid your pheromones well too.

But now, it almost suffocated you and he wasn’t even in the room with you “Y/N… can I come in?”

You scoffed, mood already ruined by your denied pleasure. It’s not like you didn’t have toys, they were in your drawer, but most definitely you weren’t to use them while Jake was in the house.

You just needed to keep control of your mind.

“Jake, no.” You hissed, even if he already knew the answer “Not for the rest three working days.”

Jake pressed his forehead on the door. He also went into rut, but he would just find a willing omega or a beta to bury himself and then forget about them.

You weren’t like him, you didn’t want someone you didn’t know to be inside you, to have such a power over your body.

“Three days?” He sighed “Fuck, your scent is so strong.”

And it was true, during your heat you released more pheromones so as to attract other alphas. Fact was, it also drove your roommate insane.

“I can smell how bad your heat is, it drives me crazy.” Jake murmured, making you shiver.

You could hear his breathless voice, the thick Australian accent rolling off his tongue was such a turn on.

“Don’t—“ You groaned when another wave of pain hit your lower stomach, “Don’t talk like that.” You pleaded.

"I can't help it." He said, "Your scent is so strong, you smell so good…”

He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw.

“Please, Jake.” You clung the sheet under you, needing an anchor against your lust “Leave, go outside.”

“I can’t.” He was quick to say “You keep whimpering and I don’t want to hear you in pain.” He stated.

“I’m g-grand.” You replied, “I can manage.”

He gripped the door handle, his muscles tensing up. “I want to help you." He said, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I want to take care of you and make you feel good, please, just let me in."

“Don’t complicate things,” You breathed out, your hips moving around the bed “We set boundaries, remember?”

“Boundaries don’t expect me to sit back, knowing you’re suffering.” He bit back, voice strained.

“Still,” You commented.

Jake and you had a nice relationship, you weren’t just roommates but also friends. You loved to hang out with him and you didn’t want him to see you like this. Again, it was too embarrassing, you weren’t sure you’d be able to face him afterwards.

He tried to pull the handle but obviously, you had locked the door “Y/N, open up.”

You turned around on the bed, your hips humping against the mattress, your face flush on the sheets “No.” You said, trying to sound convincing.

“I just want to help you, don’t overthink it.” Jake sighed, pulling the door knob again. “I said no, Jake. Go away.”

At another groan that escaped your lips, Jake couldn’t take it anymore and kicked the door a couple of times until it swung open.

You widened your eyes “What—“ Before you could talk, he pounced on you, his body holding yours down.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent that resembled vanilla and peaches, making his head spin “You smell so good, baby.”

You breathed out, trying your hardest not to think about his body so close to you, his skin on yours, “Jake please, get out.”

He planted hot kisses down your collarbone, his hands roaming over your body. “Let me take care of you, I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

“No..” You murmured but as his hands yanked off your shorts and panties, you could feel your wetness running down your thighs in the same way your consciousness crumbled.

You wanted it, you wanted Jake to take you, to make you his and calm the burning desire that consumed you.

He cursed under his breath, two fingers gathered your arousal and he put them in his mouth, humming “You even taste delicious baby, can you be anymore perfect?”

“Jake..” You murmured, “Make it better.” Your voice was strained and whiny, making Jake’s pants tighter.

“Say no more.” He said and without any warning he pushed two fingers deep inside of you.

How they even fit was foreign to you, given that nobody had ever dared to touch you there, but you didn’t really care at that moment. It felt good, so good.

You moaned out, gripping the sheets under you, your mind already a puddle of pleasure.

His digits were skilled, brushing and thrusting in every spot that got your eyes rolling.

“So wet for me baby, mh?” Jake groaned, the squelching sound filling the room, imprinting in his ears.

He raised your shirt with his free hand and started groping your breasts, kneading the soft flesh in his palms.

He towered you, his presence dominant behind you, like a shadow swallowing you whole.

Whimpers left your lips, but this time they were a reaction from pleasure, not pain.

“Where is it?” He asked, biting his tongue as he desperately searched for something inside you.

When he felt you moan loudly, he smirked “Got it.” And he started thrusting his fingers in and out, reaching that spot again.

You felt as if your body was being burned, you needed him to continue it, to take you to the edge.

And Jake never stopped, even if his wrist hurt and his fingers grew sore. He lived to hear your cries of pleasure, to be the one making you squirm.

“Close?” He asked when he felt your walls clench around his digits and you nodded.

“Ugh.” You moaned, your eyes squeezing and with one last thrust of his fingers, you fell apart.

Your body trembled, your legs shook. Jake gently helped you ride out of your high before pulling out his fingers and licking them clean.

“If only you could taste yourself, baby.” He took your chin in his hand and raised your body so you were kneeling, back flush to his chest “So sweet, I can’t get enough.”

You felt his bulge brush against your back and it was the moment where your mind went completely black.

Lust winning over reason.

You breathed out “Jake,” Letting one of your hands wander down his chest until it reached his sweats, feeling his clothed hard-on “Put it inside me.”

Jake cursed, his body trembling “You want it inside?” He questioned, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear “Want me to fuck you, mh?”

You nodded blissfully, trying to pull his pants down.

Jake chuckled and let you fall on the mattress, quickly working both his shirt and pants off.

You peeked at him over your shoulder and gasped. His cock was huge, so long and thick it made your mouth water.

Any worry that it might not fit in your virgin pussy was clouded by lust, so you said “Hurry.” Raising your backside in the air.

“Patience.” He ordered, gently pulling your shorts and panties down your ankles, as well as removing your shirt.

He stroked his hard shaft, already leaking precum, he kneeled closer to you and you held onto the headboard.

Jake gripped your backside, squeezing your hips as he teased your entrance with the head of his cock.

You gasped, the feeling so good “I’m going in now.” He had the decency to warn that time and slowly, pushed inside you.

“Ngh.” You moaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he put all of his length in you, reaching places you didn’t even know existed.

Jake sighed, his head thrown back. Your walls hugged him, “You’re so tight.” He grunted.

He was going slow so he wouldn’t hurt you, but it wasn’t enough for you. You needed more, you needed to feel all of him in all of you.

“Faster,” You pleaded, arching your back “Faster, fuck me fast.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, baby.” He murmured, his pace still too slow

“You hurt me if you don’t start moving fast.” You groaned, reaching a hand behind you to pull his hips nearer you.

Jake shook his head, amazed “Anything you want.” Like that, he moved faster.

The sound of skin slapping filled the room as well as the squelching ones from your wetness.

“M’gonna fuck you so good,” He said, voice so husky. He took your chin in his grasp and pulled you up, tilting it to the side so he could kiss you.

Finally, he got a taste of your lips, his tongue licking yours, giving delicious strokes.

You moaned in his mouth and he rewarded you with a rather deep thrust that hit your cervix.

He smirked, knowing he had found your sweetest spot, so he kept hitting it repetitively, alternating slow to fast thrusts.

“That’s it,” He snuck a hand on your neck and gently squeezed “Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

You couldn’t almost see straight from the amount of pleasure you were given.

He licked your ear, then pressed wet kisses down your jaw, occasionally sucking.

Your pussy clenched around him, signalling that you were close to your orgasm.

“Jake,” You breathed out “Jake, m’so close.”

His free hand went to your clit, gently rubbing circles that sent jolts of pleasure through your body.

“Ugh!” You moaned, the knot in your stomach snapping, making you cream all over his cock.

Jake gave you slow thrusts, helping you ride out of your orgasms and waiting for you to come down off your high.

Your eyes flickered open as you flopped on the mattress, your body growing tired.

Jake pulled out, making you frown “W-what about you?” You asked quietly.

“I’d love to continue baby, but it’s easier to get pregnant during your heat and I have no condoms.” He explained, pressing a featherlight kiss on your shoulder.

How he wasn’t yet a slave of lust, you didn’t know.

“But..” You wanted to argue but your reason was gone, even the lust, replaced by an immense tiredness.

Jake helped you lay down properly, caressing your sweaty forehead “I don’t want to take advantage of you, if we keep going I won’t be able to pull away.”

He leaned down to press another kiss on your lips “Rest, I’ll clean you up and stay with you, ok?”

You only managed to softly hum as your eyelids grew heavy and his voice grew faint until the world was just black.

⪩⪨.

When you felt the second wave hit, you had half expected to wake up in a pool of sweat and slick.

Definitely, not with Jake’s nose rubbing your clothed pussy, inhaling your sweet smell.

“Jake?” You asked, your voice laced with sleep.

He raised his face and looked up at you, his eyes bloodshot. You couldn’t control your pheromones while you slept and they drove Jake insane, making him lust drunk.

“I’m sorry,” He murmured, giving your pussy another smell “Really need to taste you.”

You still felt groggy from your deep slumber when he slipped your panties down and smelled them again.

“Christ,” Jake groaned, slipping them into his sweatpants’ pocket.

He placed gentle kisses on your thighs and raised your legs, letting them rest on your shoulders.

Jake’s breath fanned against your pussy, making you let out a whiney exhale. He smirked and licked a long stripe out of your wet folds.

He moaned, really moaned, at the taste of you and you couldn’t help but glance down at the man between your legs.

He was drop dead gorgeous, with two deep brown eyes, messy hair and the expression of a starved man ready to dig in for his long awaited meal.

Jake gave you kitten licks again, alternating soft kisses to sucking.

You moaned, throwing your head back. You had always fantasised about how good getting eaten out felt like, but Jake must’ve been the masters of it because lord, if he made you see stars.

Your pussy was dripping with arousal, your juices coating his face, running down his chin.

But he didn’t mind, instead, he tried to gather them all on his tongue so as not to miss anything.

He buried his face between your legs, your feet locking behind his neck.

“You need to keep them open, baby.” He murmured on your clit, “Alright? Can you do that for me?”

You let out a broken hum in response, your mind just filled with unholy thoughts of him. You just barely opened your legs for him.

You needed him to make you cum, over and over again, to teach you everything he knew, in all the positions he liked.

“Good girl,” Jake whispered before downing again, his tongue lapping on your bundle of nerves.

He thrust one finger inside of you, gently curling it to reach your sweet spot, making you a moaning mess.

“Ugh..” You yelped, your back arching, “Pussy so good.” He said between licks “Could do this all day.”

You groaned and put one hand on his head, fingers grasping his locks “Less talking, more licking.”

Jake loved how desperate you were, so different from your usually collected and shy attitude.

You were clouded by lust and all of that was for him, he was really the luckiest alpha on earth.

Your hips bucked against his tongue, you were so close to your orgasm you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Jake...” You breathed out, and he understood what you meant. He removed his finger from you and put his tongue instead, the sensation so new and wet.

His nose brushed against your clit and he patted your waist, signalling that you could start moving.

Both your hands grabbed his hair, riding his tongue, your hips bucking fast against him.

He moaned, sending vibrations all through your body. You rolled your eyes back, “M’so-so close.” You murmured “M’gonna cum.”

If Jake’s mouth was free, he would’ve cooed at how cute you looked, so lost in pleasure you couldn’t even speak properly.

With a few more strong bucks, your legs shook around his neck, your orgasm reaching you like a tidal wave.

You pulled his hair so hard it hurt, but Jake didn’t mind. No, he actually liked it.

“Ride it out,” He murmured “Fuck my tongue, baby.”

You slowly calmed down, your legs fell down on Jake’s sides, your chest heaving slowlier.

You peeled your eyes open, glancing down at Jake.

He had been humping the mattress, as if eating you out was a source of pleasure for him as well.

You could see that the precum leaking from his bulge had stained his sweats, his chest already bare.

“Can I ride you?” You asked such a filthy question so innocently that Jake could’ve cum on spot.

“You want to ride me, baby?” You nodded shamelessly while he chuckled, patting your leg “Get up.”

You followed his lead, getting up so he could take your position. He leaned his back against your bed’s headboard and held out his hands to you.

You took them in yours as he helped you sit on his lap.

Jake’s hands settled on your waist while yours on his shoulders, your hips slowly rocking on his.

He groaned, his head thrown back against the headboard. “You feel so good.” His smirk made you want to do many unspeakable things to him.

Swiftly, he removed your shirt and started touching your warm breasts, teasing your nipples.

He tilted you towards him and latched his mouth on one, kissing and swirling his tongue around your nipple while kneading the other.

You moaned, rewarding him with a rather deep grind, feeling his whole length underneath you.

Suddenly, a thought crossed your blackened mind “Breed me.”

Jake stopped his work on your breasts and looked up at you, his brows furrowing.

Something in his brain was trying to warn him, but he was far too deep to even care “Yeah? You want me to breed you?”

He circled your waist with one arm and pulled you up, pulling his sweats and boxers down and kicking them off his ankles.

“I want your pups.” You murmured, your voice frail and quiet but full of desire.

Jake groaned, his cock twitching “Fuck, baby.”

“I’ll give you my pups,” You pumped his shaft with your hand and held it to your entrance as he slowly lowered you on him “I’ll fill you with my pups.”

The thought of your belly all swollen, your body changing to carry his pups wasn’t such a bad idea… was it?

You wanted everyone to know he was the alpha who took care of you, you wanted— no, you needed him to mate you.

He moved you up and down, slowly at first, so you could get used to him, but then he snapped his hips up into yours forcefully.

He debated whether to let you ride him or to just take the lead and fuck into you, but his control had crumbled long time ago and all he needed was to breed you.

The desire was consuming the both of you, leaving the room only with moans, grunts, heavy breaths and filthy sounds.

You sincerely hoped your neighbours weren’t to hear your late night activities.

You wrapped your arms around Jake’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You left kitten kisses and sucked on his skin, making his head spin.

You fit so well in his arms and he fit so well inside of you.

“Pussy was made for me,” He grunted, his pace picking up “Mh, Were you made for me, baby? Aren’t you my omega?”

You nodded, your walls sucking him in, squeezing around him “I’m yours,” You cried out “I’m yours, all of me.”

Jake’s eyes lit up “Yeah?” He chuckled, placing one hand on your lower stomach. He could feel the shadow of his bulge under his palms.

“Do you feel it, baby? I’m here.” You felt him press down, earning a moan from you.

You looked down to where his hand was and almost came on spot “So— S’deep.” You threw your head back.

He circled your hips, making your clit brush against his pubic hair.

“You like it deep?” He asked, his voice low, his accent thicker when he was lost in lust. “You like it when I’m so deep you can feel me everywhere?”

You nodded mindlessly, your eyes squeezing as you felt your second orgasm approach “Like it!” You exclaimed “Like it so much, Jake, please.”

Jake groaned in answer and goped your ass, lifting you up so he could fuck into you.

His hips moved fast, his balls smacking on your skin. You grasped his shoulders and bit down on his neck, the pleasure he was giving you was overwhelming all your senses.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close.” He murmured, his grip on you so tight it left red marks.

“Jake, oh lord—” You cried out, feeling your orgasm approach “Cum around my cock.” He whispered, his lips so close to your ear it sent shivers in your body.

“Mh— Ah.” You moaned as your euphoria reached you, your legs trembling and body squirming. If it wasn’t for Jake’s iron grip, you would’ve fallen out of your small bed.

But he didn’t care that you needed to calm down, not really, because his hips continued to snap against yours.

His cock was in so deep he hit your cervix with every thrust, sending waves of pleasure all around your body.

Your ears rang from your powerful orgasm, your breath laboured. Overstimulation made your body tremble. But still, you didn’t feel complete.

“Cum in me.” You managed to whisper in his ear, your arms clinging to him for dear life. “Please Jakey, I need you to breed me.”

That was all it took. Jake’s movements altered, his cock twitching inside of you as his balls emptied.

You felt his hot seed filling you up, but soon it was followed by a sharp pain.

“Ugh!” You groaned, tears filling your eyes “J-jake…”

He cursed under his breath, his orgasm still washing over him. It had never happened that he came so much like that time, liquid spurring inside of you.

“Shit baby, I’m sorry,” He breathed out “I may have knotted you.”

“What?!” You widened your eyes, back to your normal self. Your worried and overthinker self.

You tried to move away from him but the sharp pain came back.

“Shh, don’t move.” Jake instructed “It’ll hurt more if I pull out now,”

“It hurts either way!” You groaned, clinging on him like an anchor.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He pressed featherlight kisses on your neck “The first time always hurts, but I swear it gets better.”

“I’m dying here.” You whimpered, but Jake’s touch was soothing and so were his words and a few minutes later, the pain stopped.

Slowly, he pulled out of you and kissed your temples “You okay?”

You nodded, now that there was nothing tied up inside of you, you felt refreshed. Happier. You didn’t even feel any discomfort caused from the heat.

Jake smiled softly and caressed your cheek, he leaned in to whisper “Knotting helps with your heat pain.”

“But it hurts like a bitch.” You frowned, watching as he carefully placed you down on the bed and cleaned you up with a tissue.

Jake chuckled, “I told you, it gets better.”

⪩⪨.

And it did, Jake was no liar.

The morning after he was kind enough to drive you to the doctor who gave you a prescription to take birth control. He said it would be better than fully stopping your heat.

He also reassured that the percentage to get pregnant was high after a knot (nagging at Jake for losing control), but as long as you took the pill within twenty-four hours, it would slow or block the process completely.

You hoped for the latter.

Obviously, he highly recommended to always use protections and to avoid knotting… but, you used a condom just a couple of times, because your heat wouldn’t get better unless Jake fucked you raw and filled you wih his seed.

In fact, he took you in the shower, on the couch and even in the kitchen. Any time was a good time to eat you out and stuff you full.

The only place left ‘holy’ was his room, but he said it’d be filthy once his rut started. Which, by the way, you agreed to help him through.

Jake even skipped his lectures to stay at home with you and provide you whatever you needed. Not like he attended much on a daily basis.

Everything went smoothly, he was so caring towards you, always looking after you when you passed out from the intense sex, even cooking for you (even if he burnt the pan and you two had to order out) and giving you nice massages until your heat completely stopped.

However, it was around a month later, when you came out of the bathroom with teary eyes and a positive pregnancy test in hand that you and Jake realised you had taken it too far.

[ssweetleaf]

doll parts.

summary: you agree to let dr crane experiment on you for ‘scientific purposes’.

jonathan crane x fem!reader

includes: SMUT 18+, based on this ask here <3, dub-con, clit play, fingering, overstimulation, kinda innocent!reader, doctor kink, jon being a condescending ass, unprotected p in v

˖ ࣪⭑

When you agreed to let Dr Crane experiment on you, you certainly hadn’t had anything remotely crude on your mind. A few tests, you thought, maybe he’d take your bloods— anything to help his scientific studies along and you agreed to be his little guinea pig for the day.

So, when he had you undress and get upon his silver operating table, it was quite the shock.

“Push your knees up to your chest,” he hummed, having you hold them in place while he analysed your pussy, “gotta make sure these tests are thorough, don’t wanna miss a thing.”

Jonathan ran a knuckle through your folds watching them flutter around his digit and coat it in your sweet slick, clit throbbing in anticipation just waiting for his touch.

“D-Dr Crane,” you stuttered out, finding it hard to keep your mewls choked down when he used a thumb and forefinger to spread you open, inspecting you even deeper. “I don’t think this is appropriate.”

You didn’t notice the flicker of a smirk that lifted his mouth before he pouted at you, mocking you, though you had no idea.

“But you said you’d let me experiment on you, sweetheart,” he cooed, using his other hand to pat at your thigh, attempting to somewhat calm your heavy breaths and wide eyes. “It’s for scientific purposes, you know that.”

You bit your lip, unsure.

“For science?” You repeated hopefully, staring at him with glistening eyes, eager to help the young scientist in any way, even if it did mean touching your most private parts.

“For science.” He nodded, “now be a good little patient and let the doctor carry on with his tests.”

Your cheeks burned, but you nodded anyway.

“O-of course, doctor.”

You resumed your position, chest already heaving from the tense atmosphere, peering down at his trailing hands when they squeezed at the fat of your thighs.

Jonathan’s thumb and forefinger parted your pussy lips, opening you up for him and exposing the pretty little pearl of your clit. With his other hand, he pressed his thumb to it, rubbing in figure eights, watching your facial expressions and how they changed with such simple touches, soft whines escaping the confines of your throat.

His eyes flitted back to your cunt, watching your arousal seep with each circle of his thumb, your hole clenching, desperate to be filled.

So he did just that and slipped a finger inside you, curling the digit upwards as it hit the base of his knuckle, and he smirked when you gasped at the sudden intrusion, your wetness just letting him slip right in, having him easily add another finger on his outward thrust.

“Oh, doctor,” you breathed, clenching hard around his fingers, the crude squelching causing your cheeks to burn.

“How do you feel, dear?” He asked, the tips of his fingers prodding at the spongy wall of your g-spot.

“F-feels good,” you managed to choke out, bashfully meeting his smug gaze. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

A virgin, he thought. Of course you were, pathetic little lamb— with the way you shivered from just his words alone he should’ve known. Hell, it made him harder, cock growing and forming a tent underneath his slacks, throbbing hotly and just begging to be released.

“I’m so glad to hear it, dear,” he cooed, reaching up to pat at your cheek with his palm, a little too hard, though you were sure he didn’t mean a thing by it.

With each passing moment, your belly started to tighten, growing warm and tingly, butterflies were flapping around and you felt like you needed to pee.

“Dr Crane, I feel strange,” you pouted, tears threatening to ebb over your waterline, it felt so good, but so unfamiliar.

“Just let go, darling,” he said, “this is what I was hoping for— my tests are going absolutely splendidly.”

Before you knew it, your orgasm rushed over you, your slick gushing along his fingers and down his wrist, your pussy clenching and spasming around his still prodding digits and you heaved out sobs. The feeling was so intense, so good, you hadn’t realised anything could feel as good as what Jonathan had made you feel.

“Say thank you, dear, it’s only polite.” He was smirking, though you somehow mistook it for a smile.

You nodded your head, staring at him with big, glassy eyes.

“Of course,” you breathed, “thank you, doctor.”

You had started to settle, your breathing and heartbeat evening out, until Jonathan’s thumb pressed to your clit once again, rolling and playing with the sensitive nub.

You whined out, you didn’t think you had it in you to go again. You grabbed onto his wrist, clawing at his skin and gasping into the stuffy air.

“In our agreement you said you’d take whatever I gave you, correct?” He spoke, an unoccupied hand grabbing at your cheeks, your lips jutting out into a pout.

You nodded, eyes wide like saucers and you shifted from all the fondling to your poor clit.

“Am I correct?” He repeated, much more stern that time, his jaw clenching and eyes narrowing from underneath his lenses.

“Y-yes, doctor.” You nodded.

“Well then,” he muttered, letting go of your face, directing his attention to your quivering cunt. “You’ll be a good girl and do just that.”

Quickly, another orgasm approached, simply by him playing with your abused little clit, urging you to cum for him and watch your hole quiver around nothing.

One after the other, over and over again, you came around his fingers and on his hand, your body heaving and jolting from the constant painful pleasure, he had to restrain you with a hand to your stomach, pinning you to the table and forcing you to ride out each orgasm.

Jonathan’s cock was painfully hard, and he reached down to palm at himself, smirking when he caught you staring, pussy fluttering at the sight.

“Now for my last experiment,” he pulled at his belt, tugging it from the loops and unzipping his fly, grasping at his cock, he pulled it from his briefs, pumping himself a few times, little beads of pearlescent pre-cum dripping from his tip.

You were babbling, completely inebriated from his touch— he was so long, and just the right amount of thickness, veins protruding along either side and underneath, his tip a pretty shade of red that had your mouth watering.

“Let’s see if you can take this, hm?” He mocked you, pouting down at your pathetic form, tears streaming down your cheeks, long lines of mascara staining your skin all the way down your neck. “M’sure you can— been so greedy for everything I’ve given you so far.”

He tapped his cock against your pussy, the wetness splashing up against your thighs, the obscene sounds of your sopping cunt had you blushing.

He pushed into you without a warning, to the hilt with no resistance, your creamy pussy letting him slip right inside, the mushroomed head of his pretty cock nudging at your spot so deep inside, even his fingers couldn’t reach.

Oh, you felt so full.

“Such a good little patient.” He groaned. “On second thoughts, I might need you to stay overnight— get a much more thorough examination.”

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Fever (Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac Choso x f!Reader)

SMUT, MDNI, 18+ ONLY

8k words. A curse with a strange and intimate defense mechanism has done something to Choso, with Shoko busy with more pressing matters, his healing becomes your soul responsibility. And like any good, young doctor, you're willing to do anything to help your patient. ao3

not, not made while listening to Disease by Lady Gaga.

Warnings: (This is a SEX POLLEN fic, which always carries a degree of dubious consent, I feel I have clarified a lot of of the grey-er areas, but if that is not your thing, this is your heads up, see you in the next one <3.) Sex, premature ejaculation, kissing, oral (f receiving), probably a lot of really dumb sounding attempts at medical jargon, smoking, discussions of ovulations/menstruating, Virginity loss (choso), BLOOD, some scent stuff, feelings and some stuff about conception. Choso is pretty pathetic, but i feel like you probably knew that.

When you woke up this morning, you could feel it. That dull, barely there ache in your lower back, telling you that your cycle was nearing. You weren’t the best at manually tracking your cycle but you had enough lived experience menstruating that you knew the sign posts. Brushing your hair and washing your face, you found your skin was smooth, any dullness you would have usually fussed over seemed to have righted themselves and been replaced with a bouncy, full glow.

When dressing, you found your breasts felt fuller, filling out the cups of your bra, almost to the point of spilling. They felt heavy, the lace pressing against your nipples for a sweet sting. Your hands stayed holding your breasts, tracing your areolas softly, sucking in a sensitive breath. A glance at the clock tells you there's no time for you to rub one out before you have to leave for work. But you feel a tingle of excitement knowing you’ll come home to your vibrator and whatever naughty media you can get your hand on. There’s supposed to be a new sexy, vampire show your friends hushedly told you about. Maybe tonight? You have a bottle of red you've been waiting to open, why the hell not! Some wine, maybe a long bath….your eyes travel to a candle on your nightstand. You can light candles for your own masturbation, right? Wow, you’re quite the romantic. 

The excitement of your evening of solo pleasure carries you through the rest of your morning routine. You pour yourself a coffee, you make sure to grab an umbrella, the forecast predicting rain for the next few days, and double back to plug in your favorite vibrator(s) before heading out. As expected, it's already drizzling, light grey clouds spilling their contents all over the city streets. The cool fall air wets your face, but you don't mind. You had gotten yourself a bit worked up inside, so it was nice to have something to bring you back down to reality. You still had a full work day ahead of you. Your walk to work was quick, a subway ride even quicker, the manager that met you with a car to carry you the rest of the way to Jujutsu Tech was punctual and polite. She was pretty new, a young woman, probably not even 25, but she was a great driver, and made a few jokes here and there that made the usually long drive feel clipped. Arriving at the school, you were quick to thank her and head inside. She was cute, you found yourself thinking as you turned away from the car. 

Young and funny, a sweet face, a good body, how old did she say she was again? 

Oh geez, whats going on with me? 

You shake the inappropriate thoughts from your head, and mark the doorframe as your own compartmentalization threshold. Within these walls you must remain an absolutely iron clad professional.There can be no mistaking it, no distractions, and no anticipation. Students pass quickly to their classes or from the breakfast lines, some wave or bow in greeting at your pass. You're quick to return their gestures. You make your ways down to the hospital floors, making a quick stop by the lounge to refill your coffee. The school grounds took on many purposes, education, training, treatment, triage, conference, protection, archival, morgue…etc. Your business primarily took place on the lowest levels, being the medical wing, the labs, and the morgue. You never had the chops to go into the field after your graduation from Jujutsu High School. Opting instead to apprentice under Shoko Ieri, the reverse cursed technique wunderkind, just two grade levels higher than you. The absolute chance of a lifetime. She was a terrible teacher, truly awful. Too genius to make her lessons practical. But thankfully you weren’t some talentless schmuck, you could hold your own against genius. You learned fast, were excellent with your hands, and eventually Shoko brought you in full time as her second in command. If she was the head of surgery, you were the school nurse. Where she was tasked with reviving fallen sorcerers and performing bizarre autopsies, you mostly reset broken fingers and administered stitches. 

This last year had not been kind to your practice. Far too many familiar faces meeting you in the chilly, sterile basement morgue. Shoko was taking on more and more…experimental (?)  projects. Ones with more weight, more stakes. Especially now. Which meant you held things down more and more. But once you reached the stainless steel double doors leading to the main hall of the medical wing, you knew she was here. You could smell the cigarette smoke, and the lilac perfume she swears covers it. The first exam room light was on, the door cracked, white light seemingly unbroken between the hallway and door frame. The light never changed down here, it was as steady as the tile, and just as cold. 

“Shoko?” You peeked around the cracked door. 

She was prepping the room; someone was coming in. Her words spilled immediately as though they had never had a beginning, she had simply always been talking. 

“Big one coming in. Associate Manager just called, they’re on their way back. Apparently it’s nothing broken or bleeding, but they couldn’t explain any more than that. Go figure.”

The possible orders of procedure began listing themselves in your brain. Shoko exited the room and you followed closely, her heels and yours clacking together in perfect time. 

“Choso, the half curse from Shibuya. Apparently something hit him, or bit him?” Shoko wasn’t often without the right information so her irritation was growing at every reminder, “whatever, we have his blood samples and the remaining curse womb death paintings, if—god forbid— anything serious needs to happen.” 

Viles clinked against one another as her gloved hand searched the refrigerated cabinet of samples taken from each sorcerer. You wondered whose blood was next to yours in there. 

“Can’t you just…fwoo?” You tried to imitate her stupid circle gesture she always made when trying, unsuccessfully, to get you to master reverse cursed technique. 

Shoko turned to face you, “well that’s just it, I won’t be here. I have to get back underground before anything changes. This is your pop quiz, okay?” 

Finally, the intensity dawns on you. You truly had no way to know what would be coming through those doors. A half second later, it dawns on you that none of the supplies she has been gathering are even for you! Every second you spoke was another second you lost to prepare, valuable seconds. 

“Oh shit.” You mumbled, quickly turning back to the labs, scanning your brain for relevant material to gather. Allergy lists, blood, most recent labs, gauze?? 

“I see you get it now, try and be a little faster if the guy’s dying, okay?” A cigarette has manifested between her lips as she heads down the hallway you had only just entered, “call me afterward and update. Bye!” 

And just like that she was gone, the doors swinging shut behind her, but you don’t see them zip up their seam. You are already turned away and heading back into the lab. Pulling anything potentially useful: pain relievers, antibacterial salves and ointments, gauze, anything you could think of. You didn’t know Choso all that well, but knowing sorcerers was a mixed bag anyway. It often felt the ones you did know, were the ones you lost. But he had been in and out plenty of times in the last month, rounds and rounds of testing with Shoko, with assistance by you. He was quiet, kind of emotional, but a great help to your cause. Not to mention he had been quite the looker. Dark, gloomy eyes, excellent bone structure, a body that looked carved in marble. You quickly chastised your body for wasting valuable seconds even thinking about anything except preparing to help save his life. 

 His strange position as both a half curse and a turn coat made him even harder to anticipate. His blood wouldn’t likely be the problem, as it is nearly entirely regenerative. How would that work for infection? Before you can wonder too much, the subject of your mystery arrives with his smaller, too grizzled looking younger brother in toe.

“I don’t know what happened! I’m really sorry, he looks like he’s going to faint. But he walked all the way here. He won’t let me touch him.” 

There was blood, but only streaming from the amorphous block shaped marking across his face. It was hard to tell what shape it had taken on, his face was so flushed. He was panting, the glowing blood spilling into the floor, seeping into this clothes, onto Yuji’s shoes. 

“It’s okay, Itadori. Did he get hit with something or by someone?” You kind of sheep dogged Choso towards the exam table with Yuji’s help, finally getting him to lie down, which caused him to ground and sit back up. 

“This big weird curse squirted some goo or some gas or something on him, but it looks like it sank in, I can’t see where it even hit him. Its was like POOF! And then like nothing! And then…” Yuji’s voice was high and shaking, he sounded every bit the child he was, it was easy to forget both how young he was, and how novice he was to the world of jujutsu. 

Choso groaned again, shifting uncomfortably, rolling onto him back and then his side. You watched the concern wash over his younger brother’s face all over again, big brown eyes unable to look away from his ailing brother. You placed a hand on the top of Yuji’s back. 

“Are you hurt at all?” 

He shakes his head. 

“You did a great job getting him here, Itadori. He’s in good hands, I promise you I’ll do my best to get him right as rain, okay?”

You weren’t completely sure, mystery curse-related ailments were more Shoko’s jurisdiction, but if she trusted you, then you must be more than capable!

“You should head back upstairs, get some rest. I’ll have someone bring you when he’s ready for visitors again, okay?” You have an easy, warm smile, hoping to soothe his anxieties. 

Whether it worked or not, you couldn’t tell. But Itadori nodded, and giving one last look to Choso, turned to head back upstairs. Looking back down at the writhing man on your exam table you weren’t sure how to start, it seemed like every muscle in his body was tensed. He had to relax before you could begin any kind of testing. He was too flushed, his blood pressure, even for him, must be skyrocketing. 

You bit the inside of your cheek, “Choso, do you know where you are, can you hear me?” 

He nods wearily, not uncurling from his core. 

“Choso, do you think you can sit up, for me?” You attempted, bringing your hands close to his back. 

“Don’t touch me!” He barks, heavy pants follow. He rolls completely onto his side away from you, groaning. You can see  the line of sweat drenching the back of his shirt, “I’m sorry, but-- please, please don’t touch me.” 

“Okay, can you try and sit up?  I have to assess you so we can figure out how to make it stop.”you urged.   

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t start to move, he stays still, fully tensed, desperate pants through gritted teeth. You watch the sweat bead up at the back of his neck, those beads begin to fall and merge together, falling under the collar of his shirt. You moved away from him, getting an instant ice pack from the refrigerator, breaking it, and feeling the cold spread across your hands. Returning to his back, you wrap the cold pack in a thin towel, taking in a breath. 

“Don’t.” He gasps out, “please, just hand it to me.” 

You were shocked he was still so aware of his surroundings. Against your wishes you passed him the cold pack, his hand snatches it from you without making any contact with you. You can barely see his face, but you see the muscle in his jaw pop as he pressed the cold pack to his forehead. 

“What are you feeling, Choso? I can't stop it if I don’t know.” You don’t mean to sound so irritated when you say it, you aren’t irritated, you’re worried. 

“Hot. Really hot.” He sighs, moving the cold pack to the side of his neck. 

“Okay, and did it start right after you made contact?”

“What?” 

“Yuji said a curse attacked you, it had some kind of defensive response, and it put you into this state? Do you have any idea what kind of curse it may have been?” You were gaining your confidence back, steeling yourself against the immediate shock that had set in since his arrival. You were a doctor for fuck’s sake. 

Choso nodded his head, “yes. Maybe? I don’t know, I blacked out. It was out of it for a few seconds and then Yuji was shaking me.” His breathing was starting to even out, maybe he was calming back down. 

“Okay, and that’s when the fever started?” You couldn’t yet place what the cause of the fever would be. Some kind of poison? Or venom? 

Choso nodded, another groan, pulling him further, prone on the table. He seemed to hate this position, choking out a gasp as he pushed himself up and sat up facing away from you.

“Choso if you’ll just let me take your vitals and a blood test I can probab—-“ you reached out and touched his shoulder. 

His body shivered, he let out a long, low moan. 

He didn’t have to tell you to not touch him, you pulled your hand back so fast you lamented your reflexes had never been so sharp and would never be again. 

He was frozen, you were frozen. You came back to yourself first. 

“I’m sorry, I know you sa—.” You started to panic ramble 

“You should go. Please go.” Choso’s hands gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went from tan to pink to white.   

This was too much, he needed help now, the cold pack had melted completely, faster than you had ever seen, no longer offering its menial relief.

“Choso, I’m your doctor, I can’t leave you. It’s my duty to help you. Please just be honest with me about what you’re feeling, and I can help. I promise I’ll do everything I can to help.” You began to curve around the table to face him. 

His neck was red and wet, muscles straining underneath like angry snakes. He can’t meet your eyes, his mouth is open, panting to pull as much breath as possible, lips wet and drooly. You're too busy scanning his face to see the way he covers his lap with his hands as you approach. 

“Please, let me help.” You reach your hand out to touch him, even with your gloves on and inches away you can feel the heat radiating off his body. 

Finally, finally, he looks at you, urging his body upward into a sitting position. His pupils are huge, brown irises having been consumed by two large, desperate black holes. There are tears in his eyes, dripping into the blood on the bottom half of his face. 

“It hurts. It’s so hot, and everything is so tight and sensitive. I can feel…everything, so much, fuck, it hurts.” He pleads, finally crumbling under the agony. 

You nod and start to mentally run through treatments for the symptoms as he lays them out. Your main concern is his heart, it’s used to overproducing and pumping at will, but this isn’t at his will, and this isn’t in his routine. This is entirely unpredictable. You’re in your head when Choso stops talking, he watches you closely, the drool along his bottom lip starting to build into a drip. He watches you, as you think a million miles away from him, but so close. He isn't sure if you have ever been this close, you have checked in on him hundreds of times, helped him through his training, you have always been so kind to him, even with his…less than glowing personal history, brief as it was. He can smell your perfume, he had smelled it before, soft and light, but this was something different. It smelled so much stronger, sweet and full, enticing, hypnotic. 

“You smell different.” The words leave him before he can even think better of himself, and once he does the words can't stop, “Good. You smell good. Really good.”

He leans closer to you, pulled in by the smell coming from your neck. You don't stop when he comes closer, he doesn’t stop himself when he presses his nose against your neck and inhales. Your body goes completely taut, you can feel the tip of his nose on your neck, you aren’t sure what to do.

“C-choso?” 

One of his big hands moves your hair off your shoulder, then settles on your waist, he pulls you closer, inhaling at your neck again. His other hand finds your hip and pulls you in. 

“You smell so sweet.” he mumbles into your neck, you can feel his lips move against your skin, “You feel so good.”

The blood from his face was slowing, the mark shaping itself back into a smaller line, you could feel his pulse slowing. The back of your mind flickered alive, a sneaking thought, something you had never imagined to be true, or to be presenting itself now. A defensive countermeasure some high ranking curses employ in order to redirect the attackers focus. Preying upon the most carnal needs, most commonly manifesting itself as prolonged, continuous sensitivity and sexual arousal. You had only ever read about it in the abstract, you never imagined it was something that was still active, let alone could manifest this intensely. Choso’s hands tighten on your hips. Your throat starts to tighten, you are paralyzed as to what to do, the ethics of helping and not helping racing through your mind.  

You press his shoulder, “Choso. Just a second, you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

He pulls back, suddenly, eyes wide with surprise, unsure of how he had found himself buried in your shoulder, how he had let himself succumb to whims that plagued his mind. He felt his throat closing, his heart racing, the heat in his body rising again faster than before. He felt pathetic, like some animal, some curse, that can’t control himself. And to you, who had been nothing but kind and accommodating with him since he first joined. He stands suddenly, putting as much distance between your bodies as he can. From your smell, from the feeling of your skin, from your soft hair between his fingers. 

“I-I’m, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please, go.” He heaves out, “I don’t know if I can control myself.” 

“What you're experiencing is an apex aphrodisiac. It won’t end until it has been expelled from your body, which will probably happen over time. But I have no way of knowing how long the effects will last. It could be hours, Choso, days, even.” 

Some deep ache in his abdomen causes him to double, gripping against the counter top so hard you hear the laminate begin to split. 

“I can hook you up to an IV, keep you hydrated and locked in here until it passes, but there’s no guarantee you can last it. Your internal body temperature keeps rising, and without someone here to keep an eye on you, there’s no telling what that fever will do to your brain. Not to mention your heart.” 

He fights your eyes, glaring instead at his hands in front of him, hands that had been attached to you so recently. Hands that burned against any sensation that wasn’t you. He’s swelling between his legs again, it aches, it's hurting, it's dripping onto his leg. He could hear his molars creaking against one another as he grinds them in a desperate attempt for restraint. You approach so carefully, he doesn't notice you until you're close enough for him to smell that intoxicating aura again. His eyes flutter closed, relief beginning to spread through his body, strained muscles loosening just barely. 

“Or…” You stride forward so carefully, not wanting to scare the desperate, hurt animal caught in a trap in front of you, you see his shoulders slide down his back through the damp fabric of his shirt, “I can help you now.”

Choso’s head whips around so fast that the room spins. He worries that this fever may actually be cooking his brain. Surely there was no way you were actually proposing this, he had to be hallucinating. The arousal plaguing his body had finally taken over his mind and shifted  his reality to fit its sick fantasy.  

You nod at his shocked face, trying to stay as even and professional under the circumstances; God, as if there were any chance of that happening. 

“Choso, listen to me, from what I’ve read, the quickest way, and the only guaranteed way to find any kind of repose, is to…” You blush at your words, the impending reality starting to illuminate far too realistically to be called fantasy, “oh god, I don’t know how to say this. By briefly…succumbing… to the urges, it could rid your body of whatever lingering material is causing you to feel this way, or at least offer some alleviation while your body fights the infection. Like scratching an itch? You shouldn't, cause you may open the wound, but it helps you deal with the pain and discomfort.” 

A thousand thoughts pass between the two of you, nothing spoken. He studies you carefully, desperate for any sign of a practical joke, some ill timed faux solution at his expense. Part of him looked twice as desperately for any sign of attraction from you, something that would show him you have felt the same way as him. That you have wanted this, before it became…medically necessary. 

“You think having sex with you will make it stop?” He says bluntly. 

You blush furiously, feeling embarrassed for even saying it, “It may. But of course, it’s up to you. If you want the IV, we can wait it out, you don't have to decide now. If it’s…me I can-” 

“No!” He shakes his head furiously, “no, it’s not you. I mean it is! Fuck, I mean…”

He can barely think, let alone try and string together the way he feels and has felt. The feelings that he never dared to explore. 

“I didn’t want it like this.” He finally sighs out, resigning himself to a seated position on the floor. 

“You…?” You didn't get it yet. 

“I wanted this, you, but I never wanted it like this.” He presses his back hard against the wall, eyes pulled tight together, blood trickling onto the floor again. 

You got it then. You hadn’t known, never even thought that he would look at you like that, that he would hold feelings for you so privately. He had been so quiet, so brief, so polite. Your heart ached for him, he was so sweet, you had always thought so. Even as brief as his time here had been, you thought it was sweet how dedicated he seemed to fixing his mistakes, to training Yuji, to helping the cause. It had crossed your mind, recently even, how handsome he was. Seeing him in this state, entertaining the idea of fucking him, you found you were heating up, yourself. Your legs squeezing together as he lay before you, so desperate for you. 

“I know it's not what you imagined, but I’d really like to help you.” You join him on the floor, looking up at him from under your dark lashes. 

You lean closer to him, he can smell you again, he can see your lips part, he clears his throat “I don’t just want to scratch the itch.”   

You shake your head, “Then let me help you, let me get it out of you. Choso, please.” 

You lean closer to him, you want to help him. The ache between his legs is getting too much to bear, he is too hot, his clothes are too tight, your smell is overwhelming him. Or maybe that's the fever, maybe he’s losing his mind. He scans your face, it's so beautiful. You are the only person he would want to help him. Maybe this was preordained, it was fate that brought him in here to you, so you could help him. So he could finally be with you, if only for a moment. If only once. 

“Okay.” He nods, one of his hands gripping the back of your neck and pulling you in to meet his lips. 

He can’t help himself, he kisses you with every ounce of himself. Every moment of his century in stasis, every ounce of remorse for the people he has killed, every sleepless night ruminating on his place in this world that barely half of him even belongs in. Your lips on his feel electric, sending the synapses in his brain into overdrive. His tongue wiggles past your parted lips, tasting his first of a mouth besides his own. He moans unabashedly at the taste of you.

It's only then that you even think of him being inexperienced, potentially even a virgin. But the time to discuss that has passed, you can barely get air, let alone a moment to talk. His hands are quick to find your bare skin under your shirt. You feel him trembling, his hands shaking as he kneads the flesh of your sides. The taste of him floods your mouth, copper twinged from the blood on his face, but making your lips and tongue tingle with excitement. His hand finds your bra, taking your right breast into his hand and squeezing hard. You cry out, remembering your hypersensitivity due to your own hormone filled body. He pulls off to look at you, heavy blush in his face, spit connecting your lips. 

“I’m sorry,” you swallow, “I--”

“You’re ovulating.” He finished for you. 

“How di--” 

“You smell different.” He leans into your neck again, inhaling deeply from your pulse point, “I can smell how bad you need this. Just as bad as me. Your body is begging for me.” 

It was like a switch had flipped, the gentle, polite, shy man who had stumbled in was gone. Choso’s teeth found your neck, just scratching before he licks a long stripe from the crook of your shoulder to behind your ear, he squeezes your breast again, just as hard, making you keen back, pressing further into his hand. He decides he has had enough on the floor. He scoops one hand around your back and pulls you up with him, laying you down on the exam table before him. In a flash his shirt is gone, and you are slower to follow. But you remove your coat and your top, leaving you in your bra. Choso attaches himself to your neck against, biting, kissing, sucking, licking, anything he can. One hand holds himself up above you, towering over you more like, the other tugs at the button of your pants. 

“Have you done this before?” He asks you, just as he gets them open. 

You nod, feeling his hair soft against your face.  

He hums, “You’ll have to show me what you like. I promise to do my best. I’m a fast learner.” 

Your heart nearly bursts at the thoughtfulness, “This is about you, Choso. Let me.”

You finally touch him back, moving your hands over his torso, feeling the muscles straining, the heat from him spreading to you. You sit up, slotting your mouths together again, desperate for his kiss and grab for the tie of his pants. He hisses as the fabric brushes past his throbbing, blisteringly hot erection. Finally you undo the knot and his pants are quick to fall to the floor, leaving him naked over you. His tongue moves across yours, massaging, tasting, combining flavors with you. Your hand blindly finds his cock, you take it into your hand and Choso howls, separating your lips. He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes screwed up tight. You look between your bodies, to where you're holding him between your still clothed legs, just in time to see the last spurts of cum spill from him, and onto the table. You can't help feeling a little disappointed, having gotten worked up yourself, only to have it end before he ever entered you. But you’re quick to push it away, this isn't personal, it was to help him. Choso catches his breath above you, before looking down to meet your eyes. 

“Do you feel better?” You ask, but you aren't able to finish before he kisses you again, his previous passion now turned up to eleven, his mouth is hotter, he pushes his tongue deeper, his teeth clash against yours, his hand returns to your waistline as he moves to keep undressing you. 

His cock in your hand hasnt retreated, if anything it seems completely unchanged, still raging and red tipped. 

“Choso…?” You whimper against his hungry lips. 

“Please, I need more. Please.”He sounds desperate, almost as if he is begging you

You nod and help him out of your pants, uncaring as they slide though the cum and onto the floor below you. Your heels clatter to the floor as Choso scoops you cup and lays you on your back, folding your legs up. 

“Fuck you’re perfect. I've wanted this for so long. You have no idea.” His voice is low enough he could be talking to himself, were it not for him looking directly at your panties, wet and clinging to your swollen lips, “You’re so wet already. You’re so nice for helping me. Thank you.” 

He slides one thick finger along the part of your lips, still shrink wrapped to the soaked cotton, you bite your lip. The mark on his nose has shifted again, back to the black bar you had grown familiar with, just barely beading up at the very edges. The blush on his face and neck has deepened, it seems his blood is redistributing properly again, aside from his cock, which has made no signs of softening. It still throbbed in your hand, which you kept in a steady, tentative rhythm as he explored you further. His finger slips inside the gusset of your panties, feeling the wetness first hand. 

“You’re so warm inside,” He marvels, again, likely to himself. 

He had come across pornography in the time since his awakening. In his journey to understand the urges of his body, and the innate knowledge that resided within the vessel he now inhabited, he had learned about sex, both for reproduction and for pleasure. He dabbled in masturbation, it was hard not to when discovering the body of oneself. He had watched plenty of movies in the brief instances of down time, many of which outlined the inner workings of sexual relationships on an emotional level. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you, writhing and wet beneath him. He explored your pussy further, the nub of your clitoris against the pad of his finger enough to rouse more cum from him, which lubricated your pumps along the shaft of his cock. It was brief, but the second orgasm made him crumple against your leg, pressed against this shoulder. 

This time you smiled, feeling his warm cum slid down your wrist, “Are you always like this?”

You watched him pant his way through the climax as you brought your messy hand to your mouth, licking it clean, and tasting him. He was sweet, how fitting. He watched you feed yourself his cum and nearly gave you more, drool slips from his mouth and down your leg. You feel it slide down your skin, still too far from your begging pussy, you wanted to feel him there, his mouth, his spit, his cock. The taste of him filled your mouth now, you looked over him carefully as he came back to himself. 

He shook his head, answering you, but looked down at you, meeting your eyes, “my blood goes where i want it, as long as i need it there. No waiting, but I don’t usually cum this much.” 

He was so crass suddenly, you felt your pussy clench, aching to be filled by him. Your body had heated so much, the lace of your bra digging in far too tight, your panties now feeling restrictive. Your clit throbbing along with your racing hard, just barely having been brushed by him. You squirm, hoping that he sees how desperately you need him. And you need him, more than air, more than water, more than anything. The room becomes all there is in the universe, only for the two of you, complete privacy, a perfect oasis for him to fill you over and over and over until the end of time. And he was the perfect one for the job, to go endless rounds, no need for sleep or rest, no refractory periods. He could keep you full, used and full. 

It appeared that the curse’s effects were contagious. You would later speculate that when you ingested his cum, some fraction of the aphrodisiac entered and took host in your body as well. 

Surely that must be the case, what else could explain what you said next. 

“Cho, please, I want you to cum inside, please fill me up. I want it inside, Choso please! I need it, I need you. Please.” you begged, you could barely hear your own voice, but you could see the effect your pathetic keening had on him. 

He tore through your panties in a second, your bra was relieved of duty, likely permanently as he seemed to cut through it just by pulling. The exam table’s icy surface seemed to sizzle against your overheated skin, he moved both your thighs over his shoulders, hands under your buttcheeks, using his thumbs to hold you open for him as he licked a flat tongue over your vulva. You cry out, not caring if your screams travel through the basement floors and up to the populated floors. One lick from him has you cumming so hard your vision goes white. He doesn't stop. Kissing and slurping over and over, you're quivering and shaking, but he can’t stop. The taste of you is too much to give up, even for a second. So sweet, so uniquely you, so intimately for him to enjoy. At this point he holds you up by your hips, as though you are attached to his mouth, your legs wrap around his head, you can't do much else but try to breathe through the intense waves of pleasure that he continues to give you with every flick of his tongue. 

“Choso, please!” You finally cry out, “Please, I need you inside. It's too much, please, baby, I need you.” you pull at his hair, hard enough that you’re sure a weaker, more inhibited man would have wailed. 

But he flicks his eyes up at you pleadingly, not wanting to give you up yet. But seeing your desperate, tear stained face, he relents. He lays you back down, allowing you time to cum down as he wipes a hand over his wet face, using your cum to pump his still aching cock. He squeezes the base, trying not to look too closely, knowing he couldn't cum too soon…again. You gather yourself, pussy weeping onto the table below, but already aching for him again. 

“Lay down,” You tell him, moving onto your knees ungracefully. 

He obeys, laying where you just had been, helping you to move over his lap, settling you just above his standing cock. You keep one hand on his chest, the other grips him again and carefully aligns his tip with your gasping hole. You find his eyes again, as if now is the time to reconsider, but he meets them. He gives you a small nod through hazy eyes, his hair is sticking to his head and his neck, the top of his chest is blotchy and flushed, your wetness makes his chin and jaw shine under the light. He looks beautiful, how could you not have seen it sooner, how magnetic and enticing he was. 

“Please, I want to cum in you,” He begs, breaking you out of your admiration, “Please let me give you my cum, please. Please.” He squeezes your thighs, urging you down. 

You sink down slowly, the feeling of finally being connected, sending you both into fits of pleasure. You can’t stop your hips, as soon as they fall fully and meet his, you fuck yourself back down onto him, starting a pace riding him that would normally be laughably advantageous for you. You just cant stop yourself, the tip of his cock kisses your g spot perfectly, fucking even deeper into you than you thought possible, no vibrator or partner you’d had before had ever made you fee like this.The stretch hurt so good, as you moved over him again and again.  

Choso was just as bad, an absolute mess underneath you. He had no idea what he was in for. Your pussy was so much hotter and tighter than he imagined, it felt like his cock would break off, but he never wanted it to end. He could feel every hitch of your breath though the snug walls flush with his dick, he could feel your heart beating, he thought he could hear your blood moving through your body. He couldn't keep his mouth shut, whimpering, whining, gasping, begging you for … more, … or slower, …  or simply just please. 

please. please baby please. more. fuck. yes more. just like that. fuck. please please please please pleasepleaseplease. too fast, it's too much. too much. fuck. please. don’t stop. please please, don't ever stop.  

He watches you ride him, your breasts bouncing with every lift and drop of your hips. He pushes himself up with one hand, using his knees to move you with him. His shift into a seated position pushes him even deeper inside of you. You arch your back feeling him press against your cervix, whining and pulling him closer to you. He brings your breast to his mouth, biting, sucking, swirling his tongue around your nipple. You struggle to ride him like this, but you grind down on him regardless, the friction of his public hair against your clitrois combined with his work on your nipples, more than enough. You aren’t sure how you’ll ever be able to go without this feeling. You paw at his back and shoulder, wanting to keep him close forever. He coos in your ear something unintelligible about just relaxing and letting him take care of you. 

“You’re so good to me, baby. Let me take care of you. You want to be full, right? Let me fill you up. Thank you.” He coos, moving your hair off your neck and letting him return to his new favorite place, your neck. 

He carries on fucking into you, your clit grinding against his pelvis, his lips on your neck, his other hand holding your flush against his chest. You feel your eyes roll back, your kiss along his head, relishing the sound of him going back and forth between whining and praising you. Your skin is blooming, your thighs are shaking, you feel the swirl of building pressure in your abdomen. 

“Cho….” you whine. 

He carries on pumping his hips, grabbing at your ass, digging in his nails. 

“Me too,” He chokes out, bringing your lips to his as he fucks you both to your peaks. 

A vastly different type of orgasm descends upon you both. Profound and all encompassing. His mouth stays on your as long as he can stand it, leaving humid breaths on your lips before he pulls off moaning and tossing his head back. You feel fat tears roll down your cheeks, Choso buries himself as deep as he can into you, spilling shot after shot of cum into you, you feel him pulsing inside of you. He rakes his nails up your sides, sending you trembling. You whine out, Your body swirls and melts into his. He collapses the pair of you back onto the table, keeping himself sheathed inside of you, not allowing any of his cum to escape you.

 You pant on his chest, pressing your ear to where you can hear his heart beating, it's fast, but not nearly the frenzy it was when he first arrived. His big arms encircle you, your bodies feel warm and hot pressed together, but you can feel the chill of the basement air on the sweat of your back, you feel your own heart slowing as you catch your breath. Your own heart rate is steadying as well, at some point the surrounding area had come back into your view, he had stopped bleeding, and both of you felt the effects of the aphrodisiac leave you.  

Choso lies beneath you, feeling your weight against him, feeling your body tremble in his arms, his cock still feeling the quivering, fluttering walls around him, taking his cum, pulling it deeper inside. He was told early on that biological children weren't in the realm of possibility for him, but he already had his family; his brothers, and the ones they loved. But now, with you rested on top of him, he felt sad knowing despite the timing, and despite his efforts, he would never-- could never give you your own. He realized the curse’s effects had lifted, either from time or sweat or exertion they had been exorcised from his body, and with them went his sureness that this had been a good idea. 

“Choso?” You spoke softly, conspiratorially. 

He hummed in acknowledgment. 

“Do you feel better?” You raised your head to meet his eyes. 

He looked down at you, seeing your warm, kind eyes worrying about him. Surely this couldn’t have just been for today?  

Choso nodded, his dark eyes crinkling at the outer edges in a soft smile, “I think it’s over. My heart is still racing, but I don't think that's the curse anymore.” 

You leaned forward, feeling brave, and a bit anxious from how quiet it felt now that the screaming and moaning and panting had stopped. Connecting your lips again, now that the worst had passed you felt no need to hungirly attack his mouth, neither did he. You gave him the sort of kiss you would have given him if he came to you with his feelings and had taken you out. You weren’t the sort of people to be able to go out very often, but whatever date it may have been, wouldn’t have been as successful as this bizarrely unorthodox first encounter. When the kiss was over you tried to move off of him, but he held you down, pumping his softening dick into you once more. You let out a high shaky breath, almost giggling. 

“I meant it when I said I didn't want to just scratch the itch with you.” Choso cups your face in his hand, making you look at him, “I know I’m not your best choice for…someone to be with…I can’t give you a family or guarantee you a future. But I will keep you safe and treat you well.” 

You feel your heart swell at his admission, and more so at the look in his deep, sad eyes, a look that wants nothing more than to be understood, and cared for. 

“Well, I don’t know about forever, but how about after we clean up here. You and I go to dinner and we figure out where to go from here. I like you a lot, Choso. Like, a looooot.”

You punctuate your sentence with a clench of your pussy around him, making him gasp and grip your hips again. You start to laugh and he swats at your butt. 

“I’m serious. After this we have a lot to talk about, but I know that I’m glad we did this.” You suddenly feel shy, despite how bare you have already been. 

Choso smiles again, a contemplative smile, but an honest one, he holds your hips again, “Ready?” 

You nod and move with him as he guides you off his lap, moving to the side so you can lie next to him. He keeps one hand on your waist, not wanting to be parted from you yet. You push some of his hair back on his head, tracing your finger down the slope of his nose, then over his top lip. Choso soaks in everything you give him, sighing blissfully occasionally, so unafraid to make sounds and show you how he feels about you. You're inexperienced with men so open, and so willing to express it abstractly, or at all. You find that Choso makes you nervous, the enigma of his shy, stoic nature, and his desire to be known and understood, compounded with a half curse’s worth of shamelessness. You smile at him again sitting up on the table. 

“I’m willing to bet Shoko has at least one cigarette in here. I know it's a bit cliche, but I can dig around for it if you’re interested.” You stretch a bit, already starting to feel the lactic acid building in your body. 

“I’ve never smoked before.” He shrugs, leaning on his elbow. 

You sit up, not worried about covering yourself and begin rummaging through drawers. You found a pack in the second one you opened, slipped one out and then had to search for a lighter, which proved harder to find. But a long forgotten box of matches sat in the bottom drawer of the desk. Choso watched as you searched, admiring seeing your body in so many shapes, at so many angles. It was so beautiful to see the human form so relaxed and unposed, he had to fight the lump in his throat back down, so as to not disrupt you with his emotion. YOu climbed back up to the table and lit the small, thin cigarette. You inhaled and blew out a plum of soft grey smoke before passing it to him. He followed your lead, feeling the smoke slide down his throat, burning on the way down. He quickly exhaled, not wanting the taste to overpower yours on his tongue. 

“Not for you, huh?” You took another drag. 

He shook his head, “Maybe another time.” 

You hummed to yourself, taking in the room around you. Choso had no interest in the room, only to watch you leisurely inhaling and exhaling. He thought that all the movies he had seen had gotten it wrong, that while he didn’t know exactly what it was he was feeling, he knew that no one could have ever felt like this. You turned back to him, another beautiful smile coloring your face. 

“There is a locker room down the hall, we can get cleaned up.” 

“Together?” He reaches for you. 

“Sure, Cho.” You leaned in and kissed him again, your fingers under his chin tilting his face up to you. 

You got up from the table, haphazardly draping your coat around yourself, avoiding as much of the cum that had pooled as possible. You offered him his, mostly, unstained trousers. Which he shuffled in to. You discarded the cigarette and hung on the door, turning back to face him. He was still watching you, picking up left over clothes, brushing his sweaty hair back. 

“Coming?”You flirt. 

He feels his face heat up and nods, watching you leave down the hall. He grabs the last of your discarded clothes, replaying the events of the last few hours in his mind. 

“Cho…” he whispers to himself, a little celebration, before following you down the hall. 

Your evening with your vibrator was long forgotten as you made your way to the locker room, with something far more enticing catching up closely behind. 

I hope y'all enjoyed!!! I really hope i can keep this moment going and get out some of the ideas i have had over the last two months! Cause i've been thinkin big thoughts!!! I cant believe there are almost 200 of us on here, I'm so flattered and grateful! Thanks for indulging me with this one. Love you, see you next time! -- Doodle. <3

[wwandaslover]

STRANGERS | W.M

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x F! Reader

Warnings: A bit angsty, swearing, fighting, short little fic bc I’ve been gone too long

Summary: Wanda’s trying to get her boys back and Doctor Strange comes to you for help, trying to get you to kill your ex wife. Wanda’s not happy that you’re in the way.

You had been living your life as peacefully as you could ever since Thanos. You quit using magic, you moved across the country to Oregon. It was lonely.. but it was calm. You appreciated no longer having to put yourself under such immense stress, no longer fighting people and aliens, no longer worrying about stupid diets, no longer constantly feeling like you were going to die. It was amazing to be alone despite how boring it was.

You had heard about Westview from the news not long after moving to Oregon, and though it worried you to hear that Wanda was getting to such a horrible point, you couldn’t get involved and part of you didn’t want to. You and Wanda did not end on good terms, Wanda broke your heart. You were staying out of all of that shit, you were finally getting your well deserved lull.

It grew harder to not try and help Wanda the more you heard about her, you were constantly worrying about her wellbeing. Then to your luck, Doctor Strange showed up at your doorstep asking for help and disrupting your peace, telling you he had gone to Wanda and found out she’d been corrupted by the Darkhold, trying to kill America Chavez to go to her sons in another universe. It took him very little time to convince you to help.

He needed your help since you were one of the most powerful magic wielders, yet still not anywhere near Wanda’s level. Despite being stronger than you, Wanda couldn’t absorb your magic when used on her or it could kill her, you were a Green Witch. You wielded earthly magic while Wanda wielded chaos magic, and Strange wanted you to trick her into trying to absorb your magic.

You refused to kill the woman you had loved so dearly, instead you promised to help her. You wanted her to be happy and no longer hurt so much, despite how much you hated her for what she did to you.

+

Standing at Kamar Taj, seeing the dead bodies of sorcerers lying on the ground after Wanda used her magic to kill them all, seeing her walk over them like nothing.. it hurt you to see her now a shell of the woman she once was. Wanda stared at you with an icy glare as she stepped closer, annoyed that you were blocking her path to America.

Wanda laughed dryly “Of course, you’re the one they bring to stop me.”

You took a deep breath, swallowing thickly. Part of you wanted to hug her and the other wanted to punch her as hard as possible. You spoke calmly, “Wanda, I’m here to help you end this madness. I don’t want to fight you.”

Wanda hummed “I’m sure you don’t. You’d rather not die, I’m sure.”

You scoffed softly “I doubt you want to either.”

Wanda sighed in annoyance “You’re right, what I want is my sons. Now get out of my way.” She began stepping closer and you used your powers to push her back.

Wanda snarled and threw blasts of energy at you which you managed to dodge by a hair. Wanda lunged at you and grabbed you by the throat, squeezing your airways shut. You gasped and coughed, gripping her wrist, your eyes wide and full of shock. You kicked her harshly and Wanda instinctively let go.

Wanda stumbled back and shouted at you, “You little bitch, get out of my way!”

You coughed into your arm, glaring at her. Once your throat hurt a little less you shouted back, your voice slightly hoarse “Fuck you! You’re the one acting like a bitch!”

Wanda scoffed “You sound like a petulant child.”

You rolled your eyes at that, annoyed by Wanda’s comments “I have no idea how I put up with you for half a decade.”

Wanda raised a brow “You never complained about me when we were together, so I must’ve been alright.” Wanda pushed you aside and began walking inside the temple.

You caught her wrist and tried to pull her back but it didn’t quite work how you wanted it to, instead she simply dragged you along with her. After a few seconds Wanda looked back at you in annoyance. “Wh- are you seriously not going to let go of me? You know I’m just going to keep dragging you with me.”

You shrugged and tightened your grip on her wrist, trying to plant your feet on the ground but they simply slid over the stones as she dragged you. You got irritated by how your efforts fell flat, so you opted for tackling her. The two of you fell together and Wanda shouted, looking up at you “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you held her down and Wanda was distraught by the sweet sound. It had been a long time since you laughed like that around her. Wanda swallowed thickly and tried to speak angrily, but sounded more nervous than anything, “Quit laughing! What’s so funny?”

You shook your head, still laughing softly at the situation. “This is all so stupid..”

Wanda’s jaw clenched and she quickly became angry again, mad that you had called it all stupid when she was struggling “I’m trying to get my sons back, how is that stupid?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, your laughter dying out. “I’m not saying that you losing your kids is stupid, I’m saying us fighting is stupid. I also think you’re stupid for believing this’ll work, for believing those boys would just accept you as their mother when they already have one. I mean seriously, you can’t truly believe that they’ll immediately love you, or ever love you for that matter. This won’t go your way.”

Wanda roughly pushed you off and stood up, glaring down at you “Stay out of my way. I don’t want to hurt you.” She began walking away but you used your powers to throw her back to the ground, walking over to her.

“You are not killing that innocent girl! You have no right! She’s just a child, she doesn’t deserve to die, or to go through any of this! Think of how terrified she is!” You yelled at her, angered by her lack of humanity and remorse.

“I need my boys, you don’t understand! You aren’t going to stop me!” Wanda sat up and yelled back, her eyes tearing up. She didn’t want to kill anyone, or hurt anyone.. she just needed her boys.

You stared down at her, wide eyed and in disbelief of how she was acting. “Wanda, you can still have a family in this universe!”

Wanda scoffed and stood up, stepping closer to you “And how on earth would I do that? I lost Vision, I lost my boys, I lost everything!”

Your heart ached when Wanda brought up Vision but not you. You were her first love, and apparently the least important. You ignored your own feelings and spoke, “There’s still someone out there in the world for you, somebody you can love and have a family with.”

Wanda shook her head, wiping away her tears away with a scoff. “I don’t want anybody else, I don’t want other children. I can’t just replace Vision and my boys.”

God, you wanted to strangle her for acting like this. You wanted to be understanding, but she was making it so much harder than it needed to be.

You snapped at her “I’m trying to help you find happiness somewhere in this universe instead of giving up on a life here and ruining a different version of yourself’s life, so quit acting like a fucking idiot!”

Wanda stared at you with widened eyes, surprised that you had actually gotten angry at her. You were usually not the type to get mad, but when you did it was always hard to ignore.

Wanda muttered “Calm down, there’s no need to get so-“

You cut her off by yelling at her “You’re so goddamn selfish! You are condescending, controlling, possessive, overly protective, you are so infuriating and yet here I am trying to help you all because I care about you, and I still love you, but I also fucking hate you at the same time!”

Wanda sputtered slightly, her eyes still wide. Her expression was a mix of concern and shock, concerned because you were so upset, and shocked by what you had just said. You still loved her after four years of being apart.

“Are you serious?” Wanda scoffed. It had been years, you had to be over her. She didn’t want you to keep loving her, especially not after what she had done both to you and other people. She wasn’t a good person and you were.

You scoffed back, mocking her “Yes, obviously, I’m being serious. Can you quit being such a dick now?”

Wanda hated that you were still in love with her, she wanted you to move on and she wanted to move on as well. No matter how much she loved Vision he couldn’t fill the hole in her heart from leaving you. She didn’t feel worthy of your love, or your help, not after what she did. How she left you so heartbroken and then she just went and got together with Vision. She felt horrible for what she had done to you back then, and she felt horrible for leaving you again now, knowing she should immediately go back to you and mend your broken relationship, she could experience happiness for the first time in months, but she wouldn’t.

Wanda thought for a moment and decided to just ignore the whole situation, turning away and continuing to walk. “I’m going to get my boys back.” she muttered.

You watched her with now tearful eyes, your jaw clenched and your breathing turning shaky. You were done trying to help her. You shouted after her, “I’m going to finish this whether you come out dead or alive, Wanda!”

Wanda’s heart hurt from your words, but she kept walking. She still felt great love for you, but she needed Tommy and Billy. She needed them more than she needed anything else, even you. You knew that, and watching her disappear into the temple made your heart squeeze in your chest, you knew you had lost her but you weren’t going to give up on saving America from Wanda.

a decent amount of people have asked for part two and I kinda have an idea for part two, soo, go to my requests and ask to be put on the tag list, or ask in the comments.

[magicdustsworld]

𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀(4)

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: A guide on how to properly date your tattooed, big, bad boyfriend.

𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒: Established relationship, slice of life

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Profanity, illness, fluff, mentions of blood, no curse AU, no mentions of y/n.

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟒: 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇

A/N: ik i haven't posted in a while (in my defence, school is taking up too much of my time to focus on anything else) but I got an off day and this was a quick write up (actually not) jhjhjhs wc - 3.7k. Hope you enjoy <3

Divider credits - @cafekitsune

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟑

It's not usual for Sukuna to fall ill.

However, when he does it’s like all the pathogens known to mankind have taken it upon themselves to infect him.

This time, it isn't so different after all.

Since the break of dawn Sukuna's been awake. Body twisted in an uncomfortable manner under the duvets, the dim flicker of the night lamp proves to be a companion in the otherwise solitary room.

"Fucking hell," He curses under his breath, shifting his position to ease the persistent ache that ripples through his body; his joints, for some reason, seems to have tightened itself to his bones. Slight movement proving to be difficult. While the air conditioner functions properly, a sheen of perspiration aglows his forehead—he swabs the moisture only to meet with another thin layer marring his skin, seconds later. He forces open an eye, trying to contemplate why your figure beside him does seems so fuzzy. No sooner, he can clear the mystery does a wave of shiver runs down his spine. "What the hell is this?"

The question leaves his lips, followed by strange churn of his stomach and on instinct he smacks his hand over his mouth.

The next minutes are blurred. Literally blurred for the brief time as if his body is set on auto-pilot, beckoning him to rise from the bed and walk to the bathroom.

As the expunging liquids leaves his throat and down the toilet does his distinct vision returns. Lips apart, he breaths in copious amount of air while the room seems to spin in a whirl. Once his senses have returned, he reached to flush down the contents only to halt.

Is that... blood?

.

"Temperature 101.6 °F and he threw up in the morning."

Sukuna would rather be anywhere but here.

Sitting in a doctor's cabin with you while the former wouldn't stop with his ridiculous questions. Inadvertently, he rests his scalp against the wall, a searing pain ripping from his chest every once in a while, causing him to jolt as if he's being electrocuted.

"Any other discomfort? Body ache or...?" Shinzo trails off, continuing with the physical examination of his patient.

In response, Sukuna shakes his head negatively. However, you take it upon yourself to be honest, "He does and he coughed through the whole drive."

"Not the whole—"

"Keep your mouth shut." Harshly you rebuke, shooting a scornful glare his way.

His lips curl down, on the verge to retaliate before the notion of it seems indolent. He's already been through a series of blood test and chest X rays since the last thirty minutes, exhausting him beyond relief; no need to add more to the list. Therefore, his mouth forms a thin line.

Shinzo hums, finishing with the check up as he returns to his seat across you. Scribbling down on the prescription, a knock sounds from the door and soon his assistant strides in with a number of reports. While the doctor reads through the files of his current patient, your hypertension manifests itself upon your being when your eyes find your boyfriend.

Awfully muted, his throat must have chipped while he threw up—reason to the unusual bleeding. Shoulders raised in a manner, tints of red stains his skin and the groans that escalates from him whenever he attempts to move just causes you to wince. You chew on your bottom lip, fiddling with the fabric of your jacket as the momentary silence in the room stretches. For too long that this might be the loudest silence, you’ve been in.

"Does he need to be hospitalized?"

"No—"

"I am not talking to you."

Sukuna clicks his tongue, just taking a mental note to give you an earful once all of this shit is over. It's so fucking funny. Oh, for heavens... he is perfectly fine. Well yeah, maybe some coughing fit but he can work through that for the day. No way did you call Kenjaku and call in sick for him. And he allowed that? Allowed you to drag you here as well? Alright, maybe he is sick.

Shinzo sets the files down, "Stage I Pneumonia," He concludes, straightening his posture and continues with the prescription. "No need for hospitalization but I am prescribing an antiviral— Tamiflu. Thirty minutes after breakfast, lunch and dinner for three days. Ibuprofen remains whenever he gets high fever and for the cough..." He pinches the bridge of his nose, ripping the sheet before passing it to you. "There's the Honiitus syrup, he can have 10 ml now. Rest, you know."

You nod, scanning the sheet in your grasp, irises halting on the specific medications. Craning your neck upto him, you ask, "Thank you and anything else?"

"Adequate rest and homemade food and he's good to go."

.

"Don't be difficult now, drink it."

"No."

Sukuna scowls at you and you scowl back. His eyes shifts to the tin medicine cup-cap in your hand filled with the amber coloured liquid which is supposed to heal his sore throat.

Currently, confined inside the four walls of his room, this place is 100 times better than that doctor's cabin and any hospital bed. He is sure just a whole day of sleep will make him back on his feet but you just have to be so... persistent.

"I am not asking, drink it." You extend your hand, bringing the liquid to his lips, only for him to turn his face away.

"And I said no," He spits back, eye twitching as he disregards your terse call. "Get that shit out of my face."

"This is for your own good, Sukuna. Stop acting like a child."

Sukuna only huffs in response, muttering a string of curses under his breath. No way is he letting you win this plus that thing in your hand smells disgusting.

“Absolutely not.”

You heave out loudly, "I don't want to force you."

That draws an almost amused chuckle out of him, he tilts his head—eyes shutting down and mouth clamping with a sound as another wave of nausea overrides him. Once composed, he reopens his eyes, challenge swirling in the crimson hues, "You think you can force me?"

“I don’t think so,” A mirthless smile curves into your own mien, you regard his dare with one of your own. "I know so."

"Sure."

"So are you going to be a good boy and drink it or do I need to make you?"

He scoffs, "Go on and try."

You pause for a second, bringing the cup down, gaze settled on him and for reasons unknown, Sukuna senses trouble. "Remember, you asked for it."

He shuts his eyes, rolling the irises behind the lids. You are just so funny sometimes. To think you can force him? Really? Even in this state, he can easily overpower you without even trying. Pick you up and throw you on the bed without any effort. But just for the jokes and laughs, he will let you get a head start.

In the reverie, he is when your warm palm grazes his jaw.

Here it comes.

Until it doesn't.

There's no hint of strength, no force, nothing as you let your palm trail over his skin. He opens his eyes and good lord's... You are close. Too close for his liking. Not that he is complaining. Of course. You can be closer if you want but wait– he is infected, right?

So you shouldn't be near him.

But it's like some hypnotism that's in play as he gazes into your eyes. With the added bonus of your soothing touch on his jaw, the pad of your thumb running on his lower lip—you pull down the flesh. He can see you more clearly than ever, from the slight furrow of your brows to the twitch of your lips and the light reflecting on your eyes.

It's clear.

So, so clear.

A heat spreads through his cheeks, mingling with the blood flowing in his veins and in seconds, his heart rate amplifies. Was it one of the side effects of Pneumonia? Shinzo obviously didn’t mention this but- fuck! You are here and the proximity only hitches the breath in his throat. Your rhythmic exhalation of air fans his skin and he swallows a lump.

Fuck!

He is truly sick.

You draw him in, "Open your mouth."

Before he can make sense of the situation, his body complies. Lips parting and soon you are pouring the medicine down his throat. He gulps, eyes still trained on you and yours on his.

You sit back on the bed and Sukuna blinks.

Wait– what just happened?

"That wasn't too hard now, was it?" You chuckle, pouring some water on the cup and swirl it.

"You– you tricked me."

"Oh? Did I?" Feigning innocence, you laugh again. "And what if I did? ...Oh, and don't make that face now, it doesn't taste that bad.”

“Taste it yourself then speak.”

“I am not the one who’s sick, you are” You muse, cleaning the cap and fastening the lid. He mutters an incoherent curse under his breath and you stand up. Straightening the duvet, you beckon him to lay down.

Something he does without any protest. However, his eyes flickers to the door for a brief second and now only, he is met with the yellowish eyes of a feline.

He raises an eyebrow, “What do you want?”

Kuro passes him a languid stare, his whiskers tremor once almost like its scowling. Only serving for the former’s vexation, the man waves him off without a thought. A low squeal is erupted from him and he is on the verge of pouncing of him when step in.

Picking up the cat, you bring it up to your face, “See Kuro, your papa is sick. So no trespassing here for a week.”

He blinks and answers you as though he understands what you mean.

You’re pretty sure he will try to barge in the second you leave but hey! What’s the problem to hold a little hope? Setting the cat down, you usher him out. Turning towards your boyfriend, you shoot him a heads up. One which he returns with a dismissive gesture.

“Get some rest in the meantime. I will be in the living room, just call if you need something.”

The lights dim out, curtain pulled over – creating the perfect atmosphere for an hour or more nap. Chirping of birds and the revving engines of cars from outside fades into background as comfort envelopes Sukuna amidst the sheets.

Despite it all, hollowness unfurls into his being.

The notion of silence returning again while he the room cloaks itself in darkness strikes an anonymous melancholy though his chest. A garter wraps around his neck, tightening with each passing second. And just like that the calm veneer crumbles into dust.

He pries an eye open and although the blackened room vanishes everything, its difficult to amiss your retreating figure. The haze increases, mouth sealed shut – he can’t speak. So, he extends an arm.

Wait-

The door closes shut.

.

He is walking through a mirage.

Surely, he has strolled through this area before. Once. Twice. Thrice. This is the fourth instance he is met with the same beige tinted cottages with scarlet thatched roofs.

He walks through the secluded lane across them.

Where is he going? He doesn’t know that. Just he is walking all alone. On his own. Just cause he has to.

Sky obscured with thick clouds, every once in a while does the thunder cracks. Lightening over the whole region. Sound so prominent, so daunting that it shakes the whole neighbourhood. For reasons, Sukuna finds an undulating spark tightening over his frame as every step forward becomes a struggle on its own. Down pouring heavily, the droplets causes his clothes to stick to his skin. Dripping down his ink stained countenance, clouding his vision. Breaths filled with raggedness, he wipes the moisture off- it isn’t removed.

He tries again and again and again.

Doesn’t work.

Nothing works.

How can anything ever work when-

Only a singular step he has taken and its like he is pushed off from a building.

Falling down, he doesn’t know what awaits him.

However, when he returns to his feet, the whole scenery has changed.

Instead of the murky countryside stretching with grasslands till the horizon, he is met with the picturesque view of a beach. Sparkling waves rises with all its glory, flaunting its sheer power before crashing on the sandy soil. Seagulls fly over the water bodies, their voice being a distinct reminder of this serenity. Murmurs of human life accompanied by distant tune from seaside eateries greet him. The gentle wisp of the sea breeze ruffles his hair, wafting sand into his eyes and nostrils; he doesn’t flinch.

When he looks around, everyone vanishes.

From the footprints on the soil to the sea castles to all the tourists. No one’s here.

The seclusion stalls on him only a second later. That’s when he realizes, everything’s truly gone.

The scorching sun blazes in fury, momentarily blinding him. Humidity persists in the air, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. The waves crash again and he walks towards it. For some unknown reason-this feels right.

What’s the point of continuing anymore?

The sand prickles under his feet as he staggers towards the water. Sky high waves flicker and dance, crashing onto him and even though the musky salt should cause him to recoil, the intensity should strike some agony – he feels nothing.

Paving his way through the water until the very liquid surrounds him. All of this, just seems so empty.

“Sukuna,”

As if broken out from a trance by the mere call of his name, he turns.

Once again the vast expanse of the world does everything shift.

“You’re holding yourself well,” Jin remarks, wiping some specks of soap water from a plate. “Better than I expected you to.”

Sukuna’s eyes drift to take in the surroundings; standing across the kitchen counter of his apartment. His brother indulges in cleaning some utensils, a forlorn lilt of his lips prompts the former to raise an eyebrow. The room remains quiet only broken by the usual cling of the cutlery. From his periphery, he could see his nephew crouched down before Kuro, the boy ruffles the feline’s hair and now the cat should retaliate. Until it doesn’t.

“Taking care of Kuro as well,” Jin stares down at the duo. “Give yourself some credit y’know.”

Wait- since when did his brother know about the cat? And since when did Yuji turn to silent?

Gazing out the window- his eyes widen.

When did his neighbourhood change so much?

Without any explanation, Sukuna marches out of the apartment.

Greeted by a hoard of stones situated all over the grassland. Each of different shapes, sizes and perhaps… something just might be written on it. He doesn’t wait to read. Why should he doesn’t have his reading glasses with him?

Feet squashing the lifeless grasses, the leaves don’t crunch under his boots. His steps are steady, turning round a corner or more whenever he so pleases. Maybe this is the way out of the labyrinth of stones.

However, he halts before a particular stone.

For reasons unknown, Sukuna feels life slipping out of his fingers.

.

Sukuna wakes up with a jolt.

Eyes wide open, he breaths in through his mouth. Fingers trembling with the surge of adrenaline as his shoulders rise and fall in a cadence. Think coat of sweat mars his whole body, vest clinging to him like a second skin and the duvets covering his form renders him panting fit.

What was that? The beach? His brother? Those stones?

What- what was happening?

The eerie maze where he walked? Ran?

Wait- what occurred?

The ceiling lights blinds him with all the intensity, he shuts his eyelids, grunting out like a wounded animal. Some external voice rings out, too loud, too disturbing that he’s forced to press his palm over his ears. Touches guide his skin from his cheek to shoulders and a burst of repulsion compels him to push the person away.

Who the hell was it to hold him like that?

He’s got a girlfriend for fuck’s sake. Get the hell away from him.

However, instead of leaving him alone they are inching closer. He is met with the same touch again but the noise starts to clear as well.

“…Just a dream, you’re fine...”

Albeit begrudgingly, Sukuna removes his hand from his ears.

“…You’re home, calm down…”

It’s a gamble but he manages to reopen his eyes.

“Are you ok? What happened?”

Sukuna blinks, stupefied for the second.

There you are, standing before him while cupping his face in your little palms. Thumb running circles over the tattoos on his face, irises pooling with sheer concern, your eyes are solely focused on a subject. That subject being him.

He looks around.

Notably, nothing has changed. He is still in his bedroom, sitting on the bed with the comforter pooled around his hips. From the traces of light pouring from the ajar window, he can make out how the light fades to dark as twilight tints the skies in hues of violet and blue.

“Hey,” You tap his cheek, urging him to face you, “Why aren’t you speaking?”

He only responds with long stare.

“Sore throat? Should I bring honiitus again?”

“Don’t even think about it, woman.” He barks, lips curling down in utter disgust as the very prominent taste of the damn syrup lingers in the back of his mouth.

Without making a fuss about his sudden outburst, you place your backhand over his forehead. “Mhm… you don’t seem to have fever.” You nod, “No ibuprofen, then.”

“Fucking finally.”

“Don’t celebrate too early,” You snort, a mirthful smile creeping onto you, “Tamiflu after lunch, remember?”

“Well genius, I didn’t have lunch.”

You snap your fingers, “I know, and there it is,” You point to a tray stacked with a lidded container resting on top of the nightstand.

He stares at it for a second too long, “What’s that?”

“Boiled vegetables and… no–” You flick your index finger in the air, a clear negative sign. “No more tantrums, you’ll shut up and eat.”

“As if,” He scoffs, twisting his body away from the utensil, he faces the wall as if the blank canvas seems more interesting than the food you cooked.

You sigh, sitting down on the limited space provided for you on the bed across him, “Just because I call you baby doesn’t mean you have to act like one.”

“I am not enacting–  no, just– fuck,”  He curses under his breath, fumbling with the words too many times before he reaches a conclusion. “I am not acting like a god damn child.”

“Sure.” His eyes narrows down while he regards you. You stretch your arms, the joints cracking under the evident tension, “I added a few pieces of meat for taste, just so you know.”

He raises an eyebrow, retorts accumulating in his mouth. Just a second away from being unleashed before his gaze lands on a bowl and a pack of damp towels. “What happened with that?”

“What?”

“That.”

You glance at the way he points, taking a moment to contemplate before you answer, “I called Dr. Shinzo again, he said applying cold water towels will help with the fever so…”

Sukuna doesn’t know why, but he stills. “You were doing that all this time?”

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

You tilt your head, “Maybe cause you need it?” He blinks and you find your patience wearing thin. Dismissing the confusion clouding his visage, you reach for the tray and pick it up. The clattering of the utensils due to your unstable balance rings through the whole room. “See, this won’t be that bad. Besides, it’s only for a few days, you can manage, right?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Aw c’mon, now,” You unfasten the lid, dipping the spoon. “I will feed you as compensation. How does that sound?”

He still doesn’t answer but with the way he doesn’t protest your offer, he hopes to let you know his affirmation.

.

Sukuna refuses to let you know that the boiled vegetable soup isn’t as bad as he thought.

.

Two days later

.

Credits to his above average immunity or whatsever but Sukuna is almost back to complete health in just a span of few days.

Finally.

Done he is with all the ibuprofen and every other shit he has to endure.

Never again.

As a ritual, only does the lunchtime ends with the empty hot pot of boiled vegetables being lidded back does Sukuna notice the uncharacteristic clattering of the utensils as you try to hold them in place.

“Give me that.”

Before you can reply, the tray is already being grabbed by your boyfriend as he sets it down on the nightstand.

“That needs to be in the kitchen.”

 Instead of gracing you with a proper answer, you are met with his crimson hues filled with something you can’t quite put a finger on. He urges you to sit with him and you comply. Feeling the need to for some reason.

“What?” You ask. His eyes darts down, following his gaze, confusion clouds your head for he is looking at your hands. “Huh?”

No sooner does the word leave your mouth than he grasps both of your hands on his own. You gasp yet don’t try to pull away.

Sukuna traces his thumb over the ridge of your knuckles to the tips of your nails. Turning them around, he draws every single contour lines on your palm as if he’s etching them onto his memory. It’s not the first time, he is holding your hand but it’s the first time he is noticing all the details. Like how a tiny callous has formed beside the edge of your thumb or how the tiny scar runs down the side of your ring finger.

His grasp tightens over yours, nothing to make it hurt. He would never.

He brings them up, pressing his lips over each and every, societally deemed, imperfection. At last, he turns to your backhand. This time, keeping his gaze stilled on you, he kisses your knuckles.

Perhaps, he’d have kissed you too but he doesn’t want the infection to pass.

Perhaps, you’ll know someday that… he is grateful.

Taglist: @comeonatmebruh @sweetpo1son @malazloje @tadabzzzbee @o-ikawaii

[melodygatesauthor]

The Only One

Dark - Duke Leto Atreides X f!Reader

Not Beta Read

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

The duke needs an heir, or Caladan will fall under the rule of his enemies. There's one woman is capable of saving the planet...she's the only one.

Tags/Warnings

Disclaimers: This fic does not comply with canon, throw everything you thought you knew about the Dune lore out the window. The duke is (in my opinion) in character for this situation, despite the obsessive tendencies. There is heavy non-con in this fic, it's not for everyone. If you're sensitive to that sort of thing in fanfiction, please keep on scrolling thanks. NSFW, non-con, rape, kidnapping, sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, praise kink, lactation kink, pregnancy, blood kink, cockwarming, forced pregnancy, non-consensual bondage, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, body worship, pregnant sex, oral sex (f receiving), Dark fic, Dark Duke Leto Atreides. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 6k

Prelude

After many years of trying for an heir, Duke Leto has begun to give up hope. Without an heir, the emperor threatens to give away his birthright, strip him of his title, and hand Caladan to his enemies. He has been given only one final year to produce a son who will carry on his family name. While searching for someone who could give him what he needs, he happens upon a mysterious woman. The strange woman tells of a prophecy, one that Leto takes very seriously, because he has no other choice. "In a village, not far from here, my lord, there's a girl. She is not of noble birth, but I have seen her future, and she will give you many sons." Duke Leto, a kind and gentle man, would never hurt someone so innocent on purpose, but when faced with the choice of taking you, or losing Caladan to those who meant to oppress it, he must set aside his morality for the greater good...

The duke entered his chambers where you were suspended from the lofty ceiling, as he’d requested his men to do once they found you. A warm smile spread across his face at the sight of you, so beautiful, so scared. Leto stepped forward, nearly jumping when your head shot up and your tear-stained eyes locked on with his. He held one hand behind his back in a regal manner, holding the other out to touch your cheek as he closed in on you slowly.

“W-wh…” you cleared your throat, “where…”

“Shh,” he whispered softly, brushing his thumb over the soft skin of your beautiful face, “you’re safe now. There’s no need to panic.”

Despite his words, it was clear you were terrified, struggling to breath in a normal, even heave. No matter the fear you displayed in your eyes, the duke’s expression remained calm, and filled with adoration.

“I know you’re frightened. It is…expected,” he said softly, standing up straight and casually walking to his wardrobe. “Would you care for some wine perhaps? Or I can call for the doctor, he could provide you with a mild sedative?”

He turned to look at you, your head was hung downward once again, naked body trembling and rattling the chains that held you in place. He wasn’t a cruel man, though he suspected you thought he was. He’d never done something like this before, sending his guards out to retrieve a young woman to keep in his chambers indefinitely. A nearly inaudible sob escaped your lips.

“No need to cry my dear, you’re not in any danger,” he said, beginning to unbuckle his belt, the sound of the metal piercing through the room. “In fact, you’re going to be very well taken care of here. Do you have any idea just how lucky you are?”

You cried harder, sobs becoming even louder as you looked up at him again. He removed his shirt, revealing his warm, sunkissed skin. It was hard to tell, but he appeared handsome through the blur of your tears. You dropped your head again, your neck aching from the position you were in. Your arms were pinned behind your back, body bent forward at the hips, leaving your rear exposed and open. Your thighs ached, legs spread wide, forced open by a metal pole secured between your knees. The ache in your chest from your labored breathing was horrid enough, only made worse by the chains wrapped around you, keeping your torso held upward and parallel to the stone floor.

“You don’t even realize that you are the most important piece to maintaining our way of life of Caladan,” he continued, removing his pants completely and letting them fall to the ground. “I have been unable to find anyone compatible. Perhaps it’s that my genetics are too much for the average woman to carry to term.” He stepped closer to you, cock bobbing heavily with every stride. “But you’re not average, are you my dear?”

“P-please,” you croaked, “I…I…”

“No no, not another word. You’re frightened now, yes, but you’ll soon realize the important work that you were made for,” he walked past you, running his hand along your arm and to your hip as he did. “The important job you’ll be doing for me…”

You whimpered, struggling slightly against your restraints but to no avail. The duke used to pride himself on being an honorable man, and even in this morally reprehensible moment, he felt justified in his actions. He didn’t always like what his duty called him to do, but knowing it was for the greater good, he would do almost anything.

“You see my dear,” he cooed, “you were found for me, a beautiful, fertile woman who is prophesied to give me many children…” he leaned into your ear, “many.” His tone turned to a low rumble. “So even though this may seem sudden, you will realize with time that you’re fulfilling your purpose…your destiny.”

His right palm splayed over the globe of your cheek, moving toward where your body was spread in two. He didn’t like hearing you cry, but he knew it was inevitable. No normal girl would consent to being abducted and restrained in a man’s bedroom, not even the duke’s bedroom. He saw your puckered hole, and he pressed his index finger to it gently, inciting a gasp from you, followed by the rattling of the chains. You cried out, begging him to release you, but your wails fell on deaf ears.

“I know you care about Caladan, our people. I know you care about the Atreides legacy, and you know…” he spit between your crack, letting his warm saliva trickle from your rim down between your folds, “you know I need a strong, healthy heir.”

Leto positioned himself behind you, using his hand to fist the fat tip of his cock at your glistening entrance. The metal pole keeping your legs spread for him creaked with tension as you struggled to close your thighs, a pointless endeavor. He sighed heavily, gliding his head between each crevice of your pretty little cunt, making himself slick with your arousal.

“You must think me to be a cruel man, but you’re mistaken darling. I don’t want to hurt you, and if you’ll relax this will be much less painful for you.” His breath was ragged with an almost animalistic desire. “You must understand, however, that I care far too much about the future of my people not to provide them with an Atreides heir.”

No matter how hard you tried to escape the flesh splitting thrust of his wide girth, your attempts were futile. A pained scream echoed off the walls of his chambers, followed shortly by the warmth of your blood against his thighs as he slapped them against yours loudly. He wasn’t trying to hurt you, but he wanted to get your first time over with, and not drag it out any longer than necessary. He slowed down after a moment, once your screaming turned to soft whimpers.

“You’re doing so well…” he huffed through his nostrils harshly “…I know this isn’t easy for you,” Leto leaned forward, grabbing one of your hanging breasts in his large hand, pinching the nipple gently, “b-but your body was built for this…it was built for me…”

“No, n-no…” you trailed off, feeling your head fall back down, neck aching still from the strain. A small moan left your lips, despite your attempts to keep it in.

“O-oh sweetheart is…is it starting to feel good?” The roll of his hips remained at a steady pace. “That’s wonderful, it will help with the pain, and your time will be more enjoyable for you if you can gain some pleasure from this as well, I don’t want you to feel misery if I can help it.”

“S-stop, please, my lord…”

“Shh,” he whispered softly, continuing to palm at your breast.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips against the soft skin of your spine. He could feel your tied-back hands fidgeting against his ribcage. His free hand moved to your left hip, holding it tightly to angle himself deeper.

“I’m going to fill you with every bit of me , every-single-drop,” he punctuated each word with a harder thrust. “I need to make sure you get it all, need to make sure it takes…mmph!”

Surely your noisy whimpers could be heard in the halls, yet no one came to help you. They all knew what was happening in there. You were to be the mother of the next Atreides heir. You would be made to bear child after child for the legacy obsessed duke. A breeding vessel for a desperate nobleman, torn between his kind nature and his need for the security and wellbeing of his people.

“The emperor will take everything I have if I can't secure my bloodline. He’ll give it t-to the…” he whimpered and gulped deeply, “Harkonnens, and I can’t let that happen to my people.”

You could hear nothing over your whimpers save for the wet slapping of his skin against yours as his pace quickened. You didn’t know what he was going on about - destiny, legacy, an Atreides heir? - He snapped forward again, a gravelly rumble falling from his chest. He moved to an upright position, letting your breast hang loosely once more. You wailed loudly, the feeling of his thick fingers leaving their impressions in the flesh of your hip.

“M-my lord, my lord…it hurts so…s-so-much-s-sir!”

“I know, but you’re taking me so well anyway aren’t you?” He looked down where your puffy little hole swallowed his crimson painted cock. “Look at that.”

His index finger touched where you were stretched around him, that little bit of skin that held onto his cock like it never meant to let go. You whimpered, chains rattling around you as your body involuntarily moved, only serving to sink you down further on his length once more. He could hear you hyperventilating, a panic-stricken whine punching out of your chest that he felt a tad guilty for inciting.

Until he remembered what your purpose was…the reason he’d had you brought to his castle in the first place.

He reached an arm around your leg, sinking the pad of his finger into the wet, bloody mess between the slippery lips of your cunt. In the sea of your arousal, he found the swollen bud that made your walls flutter around him. You gasped, and seemingly on their own, his hips slid forward, chasing that delicious feeling of your body finally accepting him, pulling him deeper inside.

“You like that don’t you?” He bit his lip, a breathy chuckle escaping through his teeth with the knowledge that he’d found a way to settle your terror, if only for a moment. “I promise, no matter how terrible this may be, that I won’t allow you to stay like this…and-s-suffer-oh-my…”

He felt your body squeezing tighter, walls contracting around his cock. He thrust forward again, shuddering at the way you were taking him, pulling him deeper, like your body was begging for his cum, like you needed him to feed your hole until you were stuffed and overflowing.

“Mmm-m-my-lord…p-please–”

Your tone was different now, more sultry and full of desire. It was good to hear you like that, moaning instead of crying, grunting with pleasure instead of pain. This would be so much better for you once you gave in, he knew that much. He could give you everything: make your body shake with orgasm after orgasm, clothes made from the finest silks, and comforts that were reserved for only the lords and ladies of Caladan.

“Your pleas don’t go unnoticed sweetheart, don’t think me cruel, I wouldn’t do this if the circumstances were different,” he huffed, breathing becoming more ragged with every glide of his hips. “I need you…Caladan needs you–needs-you-full-ah!”

The smooth roll of his hips slowed as his seed spilled into you. You felt it, warm and slick as it coated your insides white. You felt a sensation you’d never felt, rolling over your entire body and pooling in your core, causing your legs to shake and your mind to go blank. It was euphoric; a reprieve from the pain you’d endured for what felt like hours, but couldn’t have been more than several minutes.

Leto felt your pussy walls squeezing, crushing down over his girth in waves while you moaned. What a sweet sound, one that made him feel mental relief that he’d given you something in return for your suffering. His finger slowed around your hardened clit, letting you come down slowly from your high.

As your pleasured whines subsided, you thought he would remove himself from you, letting your hole relax after such an ordeal, but he didn’t. The duke stayed there, hips pressed flush against your rear, making no motion to release you from his hold. You moved slightly, but he gripped tightly on your hips, keeping you firmly in place.

“No, no darling, no.” His voice was calm but raspy, still settling after his climax. “I’m going to stay like this for a moment longer, just to make sure it takes. We wouldn’t want to waste it.”

He looked down, seeing the way your body had bled on his, coating his pubic hair in a deep red shade. He felt for you, truly he did, but once you realized what an honor it was to be in your position, he knew you’d find it was worth the sacrifice. Your breathing was slowing, going back to normal, and after several moments he pulled back, letting his limp cock fall from where it had torn you open. 

You groaned, feeling yourself become empty all at once. Your head hung down, neck finally too tired to hold it up any longer. You heard the duke tsk behind you, his palms pressing against your cheeks and spreading them further. The sound of dripping cum on the floor echoed through the room.

“Let’s keep it all inside, sweet one, I need you to give me a son,” he pushed his spend back inside you with his finger, what little was still there and had not fallen to the floor.

You winced and hissed, the metal holding you in place rattling once more. His thick middle-finger slid in deep, Leto shuddered as your hole clenched in response. He could hear you crying, a soft, defeated sound he wished one day would stop. But he couldn’t expect that from you, not now as he broke you in for the first time. He expected you would be like this for a while until you were used to him, used to his size, used to the way he kept you as full as possible, as often as possible.

“Your body handled me very, very well darling,” he said, idly fingering you as he spoke, continuing to push his spend back inside you. “Looks like I’ve made quite the mess of you, but don’t worry, I’ll have you cleaned up in a moment.”

He kept true to his word, once he was thoroughly satisied he’d kept his cum in you long enough, the duke turned onto his back, positioned himself between your thighs, and propped himself up on his elbows so his lips could reach your cunt with ease. A gasp shot from your lungs, the feeling of his warm mouth enveloping your sore folds bringing comfort to the ache. You moaned, a sound that represented more than just sexual pleasure, but a sound that told him you were at least accepting your fate…for the moment.

He was right, there was no more fighting, and it was clear your words weren’t going to change his goal oriented mind. His desire to have an heir was stronger than his desire to act honorably. His tongue went flat, you felt it soothing the tear of your hymen, then dragging upward and flicking once it reached the peak of your folds. You exhaled a sigh, cunt throbbing in response to the way he lapped at you masterfully.

“You know not many,” he kissed your pussy lips, “can say,” another peck, “they’ve been lucky enough to carry such an important role for Caladan. Even I’m not as important as you are right now.”

His hand reached up and pressed against your stomach while his mouth continued to melt into your cunt, soothing you even more as he cleaned you. He never felt such pride as he did in that moment, knowing that this was a good effort, even if it didn’t take. The sheer amount that he ate from you, in combination with his already discarded seed on the floor underneath him, gave the duke a sense of relief to know that he was producing sufficiently on his end. It wouldn’t take long for you to give him a healthy child, if you were indeed the girl the old woman had told him about.

You whimpered still when his tongue would touch your wound, though it was always followed with the relief of him dragging it over your clit. He slurped quietly as he continued, not making an indication that he would be stopping any time soon, despite the likelihood of you being clean already. The hand on your stomach moved, reaching up and cupping your breast, holding it and squeezing softly.

“Oh, my lord, y-yes…”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t deny the heat pooling at the base of your abdomen once again. Was it even worth trying to deny the way it felt? He was the Duke of Caladan after all. If he wanted a hundred concubines tied up to his ceiling he could take them, and no one would stop him. You should be grateful it was he who took you, and not someone who might’ve been much more cruel in their claiming of your body.

He hummed into your folds, breathing heavily through his nose as he did. His hand slid over to your waist, gripping around you and holding tight. The vibration from his moans, and the brush of his peppery beard against your thighs was causing your body to near release once more. That would only be the second time in your life that you’d felt it, and you wanted it more than you could bear.

“Mm, let yourself go my dear, I only want you to feel good from now on, now that I broke you in a little.”

His mouth never left your cunt as he spoke, his words only serving to draw your next climax from your body faster. You felt it fall over you, warm and heavy, making your body melt once more, going limp save for the involuntary crashing of your walls around the emptiness the duke had left behind. He didn’t stop until he was sure you were fully satisfied, head hanging down again and breathing returned to normal. 

With a grunt he rose from beneath you. You heard him padding on his bare feet to the wardrobe on the far side of the room. If you turned your head just a little you could see him, much clearer now than before. He looked at you as he put a loose cotton shirt over his shoulders, then leaning down to pull his trousers over his legs.

“You’re simply the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he said in a gentle baritone, moving back to kneel in front of you. “I do not kneel for many, but I’ll kneel for the mother of my children.”

You strained your neck to look at him once again. He cupped your cheeks to help you, seeing your struggle and feeling sorry for the part he played in your suffering. He kissed your forehead, feeling the salt from your sweaty brow upon his lips.

“I’ll return every day, at least until I’m sure you’re pregnant,” his lips curled into a compassionate smirk, “then I’ll let you rest while your belly grows.”

He stood, striding to the washroom and leaving you hanging there, like a prized animal on display. Before long, the same men who’d captured you returned, undoing most of your bonds, save for the ones holding your hands behind your back. They weren’t rough, just like before when they’d abducted you. You felt your entire body sigh, your bones and muscles feeling relieved to fall back into place. 

You weren’t sure when exactly you’d conceived. It must’ve happened at some point between that first time when he tore you apart, and the following month when your period didn’t arrive when it should’ve. By then you’d become, not unlike, a piece of furniture in Duke Leto’s chambers, restraints much less restrictive and painful than your first meeting. Only a week after he’d broken you, you’d become more willing for him, crying less when he came to take you. 

“I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner here, despite your situation, and since you’ve become so compliant, I think I can afford to make you more comfortable,” he’d explained.

And so he had you moved to the bed. Though you weren’t completely free. That was a risk the duke could not afford. So he had metal cuffs around your wrists, and chains that connected them to the stone wall behind the bed. You could move easier, but you could never leave.

When another week went by, two weeks after your torment began, he was swelling with pride, seeing you spreading your legs upon his entry into his chambers without prompt. You said you appreciated the silken evening dress he’d had the servants craft for you, the one that fell open on either side of your hips when you presented your cunt to him. He wasn’t supposed to love you - it wasn’t necessary for him to love you - but he felt himself overwhelmed with feelings he couldn’t contain every time he saw you.

Three weeks after that first meeting, you kissed him. It was clear he’d been holding back, allowing you to maintain some level of autonomy, despite having taken your body for himself so many times. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, force you to be intimate with him if that wasn’t what you wished.

So it was a shock when he was several moments into fucking you, cock sliding wetly along your walls in a desperation to fill you with him again, and you grabbed his face on either side. His hooded eyes shot up, meeting with yours but then quickly flicking down to see your precious lips closing in. You closed your eyes, and so did he, and everything seemed to slow down for a moment, including the pace that he thrust into you.

The slow roll of his hips was heavenly, and was soon accompanied by the feeling of his hand on the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss, gliding his tongue inside your mouth so he could taste you. The duke filled you faster than ever that night, being so engulfed in the moment that he couldn’t hold on any longer.

And now, it was just over a month beyond your arrival to Castle Caladan, you were sitting with the physician while he examined you, confirming that yours and the duke’s efforts had been fruitful.

The way Leto looked at you in that moment, was a look you’d never seen before. His dark brows turned up and stitched together, soft lips parted just before a smirk curled over them. He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, the glossy sheen of tears apparent in his eyes.

“After years of trying to produce an heir, I finally found a perfect vessel, such a precious thing,” he cooed, touching your stomach before leaning in and finding your lips with his own. “My most wonderful treasure.”

Leto heard nothing else as the doctor murmured about you, voice seeming background to where his focus lied. Part of him was still shocked that the old woman was right. She told him in his search of her prophecy that you, a normal village girl, would produce many sons for him, and she was right. 

That night, the duke did everything he could for you. His kisses were softer, less desperate and more deliberate. His hands didn’t grab your flesh as a means to hold you, but rather to feel you. And when he sunk his cock into you, he did so in a way that emphasized your pleasure over his own, angling for those spots that made your body quiver.

You may not have been of noble birth, but to the duke, that night you were his empress. There wasn’t an inch of your skin that hadn’t been brushed by the coarse hair of his bearded chin. He worshiped you, giving you an evening dedicated to only your satisfaction.

For many weeks he would come into his chambers and ramble on about how proud he was, and how well you were doing. He would whisper the most depraved, while beautiful, things in your ear about how the people of Caladan owed you their lives, and how he couldn’t wait until it was time to breed you all over again. All of that praise was nothing though, not compared to the way he looked at you after coming back from his trip to Arrakis.

When he walked into his chambers, and you were there on his bed, only a couple short months away from birth, he stopped dead in his tracks. He felt like the words were trapped in his throat, and his feet were stuck to the floor. All he could do was stare, and take in the beauty before him. You were simply radiant, pregnant belly full with his son, his heir; swelling breasts nearly spilling out of your dress.

Once he found the ability to move again he slowly walked over to you, taking off his coat as he sat beside you.

“Look at you…” his voice trailed off.

“Hello my lord,” you greeted softly.

His hand reached for yours, and he was quickly reminded that you’d been a captive there, metal cuffs still wrapped around your wrists, rattling as he held you. He felt a pang in his chest, wanting desperately to release you. Every time the thought crossed his mind though, he worried you would run. You didn’t seem like you would try to leave, having become much more docile since your arrival months ago. There was also the glaring fact that you were pregnant, and it wouldn’t be easy for you to get away even if you managed to pass every one of the guards who might see you before reaching the doors of Leto’s home.

There was always that small chance though, no matter how slim, that you would leave. It was a risk he couldn’t afford to take.

He looked back at your body, eyes wide and trained on your stomach. The duke leaned in, kissing just above your navel, a satisfied hum escaping his lungs as he did. It was hard not to like him, and that was what you hated about him the most. The man was dedicated to his people, to his title, and his legacy more than anything. The longer you were around him, and the more time you’d spent under his care, the more you’d begun to understand your purpose within his walls.

The idea of the Harkonnens, or any other house for that matter, claiming the right to Caladan, should House Atreides produce no heir, was a frightful one. He broke you from your thoughts, eyes trailing up your chest and to your eyes. Your breath caught in your throat, he looked so handsome, lips slightly parted with a few stray hairs falling into his dark eyes. Despite holding you captive for the sole purpose of breeding an heir from you, you’d begun to fall for Leto Atreides, against all odds.

“My sweet girl, my darling, you’re doing so well, growing my child in your womb. I couldn’t have asked for a better woman to give me a son, to give House Atreides its heir,” he whispered, cupping your cheek, bringing his forehead to yours. “I’ve been disappointed so many times.”

“Thank you my lo-”

“No sweetheart, no, shh…” he pressed a finger to your lips gently before replacing it with a tender kiss, “you should be worshiped by Caladan, it's people…I want to worship you.”

His hand grabbed at your waist, pulling you against him into a deeper kiss. You felt his growing arousal against your thigh, followed by an involuntary rut of his hips. You whined, trying not to be bothered by the incessant ache in your chest, your engorged tits becoming too heavy and painful to bear. It was hard to focus on the duke’s soothing touch when you felt such discomfort.

He stopped kissing you, looking at you with concern, “are you alright sweet one?” His eyes trailed to your tits, “are they sore? Oh you poor thing.”

You nodded and whimpered, wincing as he pulled one of your straps down and pulled a heavy breast from its confines. Your puffy nipple had a bead of white sitting on it, threatening to trickle down the mound. His pink tongue darted out, lapping up the milk that nearly fell from your breast, and humming in approval of its taste.

“Let me help you my dear,” he said softly, leaning in and latching his mouth over your chest.

You gasped at first, the coarse brush of his beard stinging against the sensitive skin, but it very quickly gave way to a much better, more soothing sensation. You sighed in relief, feeling him suckling at your flesh, drawing out the milk that had been causing your breasts to swell beyond belief. He moaned against your skin, rolling his hips idly as he did. This was very unusual for him, to be so needy and desperate for you, clinging onto your body the way he was.

In the past, Leto would’ve just taken you if he wanted to, but with your body so soft and full with his child, he would resist. Of course he knew you could take it, you weren’t made of glass, but he wanted to give you nothing but comfort, emptying you instead of filling you with more than he already had in the past. He felt your hand reach up and grab the back of his head, delicate fingers massaging between his peppery locks.

“Mm, my darling, so sweet,” he muttered against your tit, a little milk dribbling down his lips.

You felt his hips moving more, now more deliberate before, as though he were accepting of his primal urges to find release, rather than suppress it, but still unwilling to ask you for help.

“It’s alright my lord, you haven’t…mmph…you haven’t been satisfied in some time. Do what you must.”

Even though he was trying to remain stoic and refined, your permission was all he needed to throw all that aside. With his free hand he tugged at his belt, keeping his lips pursed around your nipple as he did. You heard the unmistakable clanking and rattling metal as he found success, pulling the leather from the loops and tossing it to the ground. His dexterous fingers then made quick work of his pants, pulling them to his thighs.

Leto Atreides was a nobleman, not one to give in to such animalistic delights so easily, but something about drinking from your chest, and how perfect you were serving him and his house with your pregnancy made him feral for you. His hands were shaking as he tried to bring his cock to your hole. He’d done it so many times before, why was he struggling now?

“Sir…” you pushed him off your breast, biting your lip at the sight of him as he looked up at you.

His eyes were hooded, milk-drunk and heavy. The lips that had been suckling for a while were now pink, puffy, and covered in a white, glossy sheen. You lifted your leg, sliding yourself into a position that you were both parallel to one another. You wrapped your leg around his hip, angling his fat tip to your slippery entrance.

“You’re too precious, too g-good…oh…” His hips stuttered forward, opening you wide around his cock once again.

You hadn’t been with him in so long, your body had nearly forgotten how to take him. You winced, needing to readjust once again, but he was patient, holding himself flush against your hips while your walls moved aside for his girth. He let out, what sounded like, a low growl as he mouthed at your neglected tit. His hips remained in place, making no attempt to retreat, nor to glide in further. His cock rested there contentedly, throbbing every now and then.

He gulped, humming into your breast as he drank more, the ache in your chest slowly subsiding with every moment that passed. Eventually he moved his hips lazily, pulling back after a time before rolling back forward.

What the duke was feeling with you in that moment was more than a simple sex act. What he felt now was comfort, his cock buried in your soaking, slippery heat, and his lips pursed around your nipple. Leto swirled his tongue in a slow roll over your peaked mound, taking a moment to inhale several shaky breaths before going in for more.

The way he drew more and more milk out of you was causing your body to relax further, your walls becoming more open to his slow movements and deep strokes. A low moan escaped you, forcing his eyes to shoot up, still so dark in their feral hunger. You tugged his hair, forcing him to pull off your breast with a loud pop. Without hesitation, you kissed him, filling your mouth with a combination of your sweet fluids and the duke’s own signature taste 

“You’re like no other. Not a day goes by that I don’t want to hold you close sweetheart…”

He brushed his nose against yours, eyes moving slowly from your lips, to your eyes, and back again. A swell of emotion poured through him, his desires going beyond just wanting to give you his seed, but it was something more. Your last name…it was wrong. He never wanted to take a wife, in fact, he’d vowed never to do such a thing, but you’d changed the very fiber of his being from the moment he’d found you.

“After my son is born, I’ll give you the best gift I can, the only gift I can give a woman of such importance…oh my…g…”

The duke lost himself, holding you tightly against him, though careful not to squeeze against your stomach too harshly. His choked moans vibrated against your chest while he filled you, pumping your body with his cum once again. You felt your own climax wash over your body, inspired by his own, drawing everything it could from him as it did, both of you a trembling, moaning mess.

He sighed with contentment after his mind cleared. He looked at you once more. 

“I’m going to keep you,” he kissed your lips breathlessly, “I’m going to keep you here with me. I’m going to give you my name, and until the day I die you’ll be mine, my precious thing.” He pecked you again, and then pressed his lips to your stomach.

“I can’t wait to have your name, sir, and to be able to walk around the castle freely,” you said softly.

Leto’s blood ran cold. 

Walk around freely…

Perhaps you’d misunderstood him, in fact, he was certain of it. He could see how his words may have been misconstrued. Evidently he would need to be more clear with you. The duke’s gaze darkened when he looked back into your eyes.

“My sweet girl.” He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead. “Until the day you are barren, I cannot risk any harm to you, nor your body.” His words were chilling, but his gaze was warm. 

“You’ll never leave this room, so long as I can help it.”

Duke Leto Atreides Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 26- Zoro x F!Reader: Sex Pollen

Summary: While on an island, Zoro gets lost and accidently gets sick off of the strange plant life. His only cure...is you.

Warning: MINORS DNI, SMUT, sex pollen-you know if you know. Creampie

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It had only been a few months since Luffy had convinced you to join his crew. You were deemed the 'babysitter' of the group. Watch this person, watch that one, it was stressful; however, a few months was all you needed to fall in love with the blockhead swordsman of the crew, Roronoa Zoro.

You had wanted to believe that Zoro shared the same feelings towards you, but he was a difficult man to read. You had confided your feelings to Nami and Robin and both had to wish you the best of luck.

"Gaaaaaaah!!! Something's wrong with Zoro!!!" Chopper cried out as Zoro collapsed on the deck.

You rushed over along with the others as Chopper checked on Zoro. Worry washed over you as you tried to offer your assistance to the cute ship's doctor.

"I said...I'm fine!" Zoro grunted as he tried to stand.

"No you're not! Did you do anything different on the island we were just on?!" Chopper lectured as he placed Zoro on the infirmary bed.

"Tch, just wandered into...a patch of flowers is all."

"The same flowers the residents told us to avoid?" You asked, placing your hand against his forehead, "You're burning up, Zoro."

"Hn!"

You bit your lower lip as Zoro grabbed your hand. His breathing was erratic and his pupils were blown. Chopper was still panicking as he tried to do some research, but this...this you knew was different.

"Chopper, I think I know what's wrong. Um, he just needs some private rest."

"Are you sure?" Chopper asked in all his cuteness. You felt bad for lying to him,

"Yeah, I just remembered what the villagers said. If you wander into the flowers, let the person sleep off the sickness. Um, only a person of opposite sex can stay...alone with the sick person."

"Okay!"

Ah, how your heart clenched for lying to Chopper. He was so innocent to believe your story that he left, allowing you to lock the door.

"(Y/N)," Zoro groaned, his body pressed against your back, "You should...have left too."

"How could I?" You shivered as his hands started to roam your body, "The villagers warned...mhm...me about those flowers."

Zoro grunted softly as he started to grind his hips against your ass. His kisses getting rougher against your neck as he kept pressing you against the door. Worried that someone will hear, you struggled to face Zoro, pushing him gently.

"(Y/N)," Zoro hissed as he grabbed your ass, "Let me have you,"

Feeling your body against the bed, you looked into Zoro's eyes. He looked like he was in pain. Smiling, you leaned forward to kiss Zoro as he continued to take your clothes off.

This wasn't how you were expecting your first time to be, but at least you were helping Zoro. The way he looked at you was intoxicating. Once he took his own clothes off, you nearly felt your pussy drench the bed at the sight.

Zoro was toned and his dick was massive. You were afraid that he wasn't going to fit.

"Z-Zoro-"

With a groan, Zoro captured your lips in a hungry kiss. His fingers rubbing against your clit before entering your pussy. You winced at first, finding it slightly uncomfortable, but started to enjoy it as Zoro kept pumping his fingers into you.

"Shit, I wanted...to savor you..." Zoro groaned as he took your breast into his mouth, "Fuck you right,"

"Ah~" You clenched against his fingers towards his words, "D-Does that...mean?"

"Let me eat you properly after this," Zoro took his fingers out, licking them clean, "Shit, taste so sweet."

Your heart was racing as Zoro confessed. He spread you legs and slowly slid his dick inside your folds. You gripped the bed sheets, groaning towards the pain. Zoro's dick was big. He was stretching you out.

"Tight," He groaned, finally entering balls deep inside you.

You only had a moment to catch your breathe before Zoro started to pound into you like a beast in heat. You grabbed the pillow to cover your moans but the room was filled the slapping of your bodies. His dick abusing your poor pussy with every slap.

"Fuck," Zoro hissed as he held your hips tightly.

You felt your eyes roll back as Zoro kept hitting your sweet spot. His tip kissing your cervix with every rough thrust. Your body was burning with heat as you gave into Zoro's harsh thrusts.

Unable to handle the intensity, you cam quickly. Your body unable to keep up to his pace. Zoro kept pounding inside you, groaning and moan with every thrust. Little by little, you felt yourself getting full, wondering if Zoro had cummed inside you without noticing.

"Z-Zoro~" You moaned, arching your back as you felt another orgasm building up. Zoro threw your legs over his shoulders, wanting to taste you even deeper than before,

"So good, (Y/N). More," He whimpered.

Honestly, it was so hard to deny him. Zoro was still in pain. Shivering as Zoro continued his rough pace, you felt your throat starting to hurt. It was hard to moan and your body was growing numb. You were starting to see stars.

-------

Feeling his vision start to clear up, Zoro panted heavily as he finally came back to his senses. Looking down, his eyes widen as he saw you breathing heavily, your eyes half open. Honestly, you had a delicious fucked out expression on your face.

Wincing, Zoro finally realized that you were like this because of him. His memory returning as he pulled his dick out of your pussy. His cum flowing out of you like a waterfall.

"Shit," Zoro hissed as he got off the bed.

Looking around for some cleaning wipes, Zoro did his best to wipe your body down. His attention focused on his cum pouring out of your pussy. Oh, how he wanted to fill you back up. Stroking your hair, Zoro grumbled that this had to be the first time he fucked you.

"Sorry, (Y/N), next time I'll be more careful."

"Mhm," You rested your head against his hand, smiling softly as you fell asleep. Zoro sighed heavily in response,

"Tch, didn't leave enough marks on you either."

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

Hope you enjoyed!!!

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

[froggibus]

Graveyard Smash - Cole Cassidy

Pairing: Cole Cassidy x f! reader (fem pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: while investigating an abandoned asylum, you and Cass come into contact with slime that has a strange effect on you...

CW: ghost hunter! au, near-death experience, kinda horror elements to start (but those are the vibes teehee), sex pollen (but it's slime), dubcon, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it), creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cum stuffing

omg day one of kinktober! i meant to post this much much earlier but the wc got away from me and i took a four hour nap ;') hopefully tomorrows will be out earlier tho! i don't like this v much but i cannot spend anymore time tweaking it sorry

also def should’ve made todays movie ghostbusters but oh well

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

You shiver at the feeling of Cole’s fingers on your chest, fiddling with the gold buttons of your coveralls. The blue fabric scrunches in his calloused hands as he makes his way upwards, slipping the buttons through the loops with ease.

You glance at the looming abandoned asylum behind him, the old brick building creaking beneath the howling wind. “So, what’re we dealing with here?”

“Dunno,” he shrugs his broad shoulders, his matching coveralls bunching up at the motion. “They just said it was slimy, loud and real mean.”

“Great.”

He chuckles at the lack of your enthusiasm, finishing the last button and pulling away from you. You miss the warmth of his hands immediately, a chill running up your spine.

You hop down from the back of the van, slinging your backpack over your shoulders. “You packed the flashlights?”

His face goes pale. “What? I thought you did.”

Your mouth falls open. You drop your bag, squatting on the pavement to start rifling through it when you hear him chuckling above you. 

“Very funny.”

“Hey, just tryna lighten the mood.”

You go quiet again at that, once again sizing up the asylum before you. Being a paranormal investigator wasn’t for the faint of heart, and you’ve dealt with some creepy buildings over the years, but none were as eerie as the one waiting for you.

You swallow hard, adjusting the straps of your backpack. “So,” you gesture to the decaying steps outside, “shall we?”

“Ladies first.”

You scoff, but force yourself forward regardless. The rotting steps creak with every move you make, the concrete landing a distant paradise. You suck in a breath, glancing over your shoulder to see Cass hot on your heels.

Cass breaks down the barricaded door with just one kick, the wood splintering and falling to the floors with a bang. The sound echoes off the walls, spreading out through the massive building.

“Well, if it didn’t know we were coming before…”

You snort, pulling the flashlights out of your bag and passing one to him. For a second, you’re cast in darkness, the only light being from the full moon beaming from a nearby window. You smack your flashlight a few times and it slowly flickers to life, illuminating the crumbling grand staircase in front of you.

Cass raises his brows at the sight. “Guess we’re not going up.”

“You can say that again.”

You swing the beam of light from right to left, identical disgusting hallways on either side of you. Your flashlight falls on his chest, the golden buttons glowing like the sun. He raises his thick brows at you in question.

“Dealer's choice, cowboy.” You offer a weak grin, “do you want disgusting hallway number one, or two?”

He sighs, shaking his head at your antics, but turns to the right and starts shuffling off down the hall. You trail after him, staying only a few steps behind him. It’s eerily quiet inside, the only sounds being from your footsteps and the occasional whir of the EMF reader in his hand.

A broken security door lies ahead, torn caution tape beckoning you in. You frown, “so, what even happened here to make it such a hotspot?”

“Patient abuse, mad doctors, insane cover-ups. The usual for a place like this.” He’s gentle opening the door this time, the old wood creaking on its hinges. “Fuckin’ creepy.”

The hall ahead is even worse than the one you just trekked down. The floor is crumbling and broken in odd places, covered in stains that you really hope aren’t blood. Doors line either side of the hallway, looted carts of medical equipment staggered throughout. 

You’re only a few steps through the door when it slams harshly behind you, a terribly warm gust of air ghosting over the back of your neck. You flinch harshly, spinning around to face the few feet of empty space between you and the closed door. There’s nothing there.

“Any chance that means it likes us and wants us here?”

Cass only snickers.

“Yeah,” you grumble, adjusting your collar, “figured as much.”

Cass pushes open the first door and the EMF reader whines in response. You can just barely make out the reading on his screen—Level 4. That chill runs up your spine again. It’s gonna be a long night.

—

The basement of the asylum is somehow even creepier than the upstairs. It’s boiling hot and smells strangely of strawberries despite the rotting walls and floors.

You clench the ultraviolet flashlight tighter in your hand, sweeping it over the walls around you. Aside from the door closing, you’ve yet to see anything paranormal in the hours you’ve been here. 

Cass keeps close to your side, the two of you now relying on only his flashlight. The smell of his deodorant floods your nostrils, the scent so familiar and comforting it almost has you forgetting the creepy asylum around you. Almost. 

He wipes at the glistening skin on the back of his neck, muscles flexing at the motion. You glance away quickly, heat pooling in your stomach.

“Hotter than hell down here,” he grumbles.

You whimper in agreement, your own skin starting to take on a slight sheen. The smell only grows stronger as you dip into another hallway. You scrunch up the nose at the nauseatingly sweet smell.

Both of you freeze as the purple light of your flashlight grazes over a handprint on a nearby door. You turn to Cass with a frown, both of you knowing a handprint can only mean you’re getting closer. 

He braces his hand on the handle and takes a deep breath before shoving it open. You stagger in after him, eyes burning at how intense the scent is inside the room.

You turn to him, ready to ask if he’s picking up on anything, when his face goes pale. 

“Get down!” He shouts, tackling you to the concrete floor.

He manages to manoeuvre just enough to brace your fall, your back crashing against his chest. The air is knocked from both of your lungs from the impact.

You cough harshly, trying to roll away when his grip around you tightens.

“Don’t move.” He whispers.

You open your mouth to ask him why but freeze in your tracks at the pink tinged spectre only a few feet away from you. Its eyes are unfocused, its mouth moving without making any sound. Heat seems to follow its movements, growing closer and closer to where the two of you lay on the floor.

You force yourself to lie completely still, not even breathing while it skims across the floor. The smell around it is so strong your eyes start to water, hot tears leaking down your cheeks. It drifts farther into the room, towards the door on the opposite side.

Cass’s chest has also stilled behind you, his movements as frozen as yours. Both of you are stuck in shock as it reaches the door. You’re almost home free, it’s almost gone. 

And then the EMF reader crackles back to life—having landed a few feet away from you in the fall—and lets out a screeching tone that can only indicate an EMF 5 reading.

The spectre whips around, screeching back at the gadget, and speeds towards the two of you. Cass shoves you off, flipping onto his feet in an instant. He goes to dive for his bag, but he never makes it.

Before either of you can react, the spectre is unhinging its jaw and projectile vomiting glowing pink slime on the both of you. You gag, sliding around in the goo in an attempt to get away from it. Cass slips and lands on his ass next to you, raising his forearms to shield his face.

In the chaos, you somehow manage to reach into your bag, fingers grasping at the small metal trap. You squeeze it tightly, tugging the lever open before tossing it outwards.

The trap opens, landing at its feet and crackling with electricity. The two of you watch with blank stares as the ghost is sucked inside. 

“The switch!” Cass shouts at you through a mouthful of slime, “where’s the switch?”

And then you’re both digging through your bag, feverish skin rubbing against his as you desperately search for the small metal switch. Cass grabs it, holding it up triumphantly before slamming his hand on the button. 

“See you in hell, motherfucker.”

You laugh in relief when the trap slams shut behind it, a small puff of pink air sneaking through from the pressure. 

“What,” you breathe, “the actual fuck just happened.”

Cass laughs, rising to his feet and offering you a hand. He tugs you to your feet, the slime coating your sneakers making you slide into his chest. He catches you, hands lingering on your waist as he helps you get steady.

You swallow hard. Despite the slime coating both of you, the warmth of his chest and the proximity to him has you swallowing hard, a sudden heat between your legs.

You cough, turning away from him. “We should get out of here.”

He hums in agreement, collecting the trap off the ground and following you back into the hallway.

He keeps a step behind you the entire way out, his body frustratingly close. The heat coursing through you only gets worse the closer you get to the exit, even the cold night air leaking through the broken windows doing nothing to sate it. Your core throbs, horrible cramps wracking your stomach and thighs with every step.

You brace yourself on a nearby wall, trying to force some air into your lungs. Cass gently pats your shoulder and you moan. You clamp a hand over your mouth, both of you frozen in shock.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and the deep, raspy tone of his voice has your legs quivering. “You’re burning up.”

“Y—yeah,” you gasp out. “Just need to—to keep moving.”

He nods, squeezing your shoulder in reassurance before the two of you begin stumbling your way out of the asylum. You’re only a few feet away from the van before you double over, a nauseating wave of cramps and heat and need coursing through you.

Cass manages to catch you before you hit the ground, strong hands helping guide you to the pavement. He squats down in front of you, his slime coated suit clinging to his body in all the right places. You lick your lips.

Amber eyes follow the motion and you swear they darken at the sight of you. He trails a hand up and down your side, your cramps subsiding at the motion. “You alright?” He rasps.

You swallow hard, his voice sexy and husky and sending electricity surging through you. “Cramps,” you frown.

His hands trail up to the chest of your coveralls, fingers popping the first button open. “You’ll probably feel much better once we get these damned things off.”

You stay perfectly still, scared that if you move any closer to him you’ll do something you’ll regret. His fingers linger after each button, the breath leaving your body at each touch. Your eyes flutter shut, your whole body shaking beneath him.

You don’t even notice he’s done until his lips are hovering over your ear, hot breath ghosting the side of your neck. “Isn’t that much better?”

You moan in agreement, not even bothering to cover your arousal. You let the coveralls shrug over your shoulders, falling in a sopping pool on the ground. Cass helps you rise on shaking legs, guiding you to the back of the van.

You open the doors, letting yourself slump against the cool metal of the back bumper. Cass stands in front of you, fingers fumbling around on the buttons of his own suit.

You’re mesmerised by the sight, practically panting as the suit slides off of him and reveals his black compression shirt and blue jeans. Your eyes trail over him and you’re only barely aware of how he’s watching you take him in. 

Your eyes fix on the bulge in his pants, straining against the denim. You wet your lips at the sight.

“Like what you see?” He rasps.

Your eyes snap up to his, shock written on your face. You stumble over your words for a second, the sight of his flushed cheeks and dark eyes driving you wild.

“Cole—”

“I need you.”

And you’re left with no time to react before he’s pouncing on you, grabbing your face in his hands and slamming his lips against yours. You whine into his mouth, dragging your nails down his back.

He leans into you, hands slipping to cup your ass. Your legs wrap around his waist, drawing him closer as he lifts you further into the van. His teeth graze at your bottom lip and you gasp, letting his mouth swipe over the backs of your teeth.

He’s hot against your mouth, both of you overheating despite the cold night air. You can taste the strawberry remnants of the slime on his lips, overshadowed by the tang of cigars and spearmint. Rutting your hips against him, you whine into the kiss. 

He returns the motion, rolling his hips into yours. Despite the layers of clothes between you, he can feel the heat pooling between your legs. Sweat beads down your temples and you pull away from him gasping.

“I need you,” you echo.

His face is equally as hot as yours, cheeks red and glistening with sweat. His hair is stuck to his skin and tears brim the corners of his eyes. He looks utterly pathetic, melting into you with mutual desperation.

A whine of protest slips from your lips when he pulls away from you to unbutton his jeans, fingers flying so fast you can hardly keep track. Despite his speed, you can’t take it anymore, dipping your own hand between your legs to sate your cravings.

Your pants have completely soaked through, hot slick ruining the fabric. You rub at your clit, clenching your thighs around your wrist and rocking back and forth. His cock springs free but he makes no move to touch you, watching you fuck yourself with burning eyes.

“D–don’t just watch,” you gasp, “help me. Please.”

He rasps, “damn, that’s hot.”

And then he’s on you again, slotted perfectly between your legs while he presses his lips into yours. His hands fumble with your pants, managing to tug them down to your knees. He fixes a hand between your thighs, stroking at your soaking panties with a whine.

“So wet, fuck, god,” the thick head of his cock rubs against your panties. “T-tell me I can fuck you. Please.”

 He ruts against you through your panties, his cock rubbing against your clit with every thrust. The heat of his body pressing against yours, the scent of his deodorant and his breath on your body is all too much. You roll your head back, arching your back into him.

You barely manage to gasp out a string of slurred curses before you come undone, gushing on his cock through your panties. Cass watches with wide eyes, your slick making your panties almost see through. He rubs a thumb over your clit and you twitch beneath him.

“Please fuck me,” you murmur through pants. “I need it badly.”

That’s all he needs to hear before he’s ripping open your panties and slipping his cock inside of you. Your pussy greedily takes him in, walls stretching around his cock in a way that has both of you groaning. You reach for him, pulling his broad shoulders into you and dragging your nails along his sweaty skin.

He’s barely bottomed out before his cock is twitching inside of you, hot cum painting your walls. You clench tightly, your attempt to keep him from pulling out. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, cumming in a series of gasps and whines.

You keep your ankles locked around his hips until he’s finished, slowly rocking yourself against him through his orgasm. 

He pulls away, looking at you with those pathetic fucking eyes. “Need more,” he says, and its all he manages before he’s pulling out and fucking his cum back into you.

You gasp with every harsh thrust. Each snap of his hips has his cum sloshing inside of you, has his tip hitting the edge of your cervix and making you whine. He hangs his head low into your shoulder, babbling dirty things against your skin. 

He shifts a hand down to your knees, throwing your ankles over his shoulder so he can bend you in half and fuck you even deeper. You squeal when his cock is driven so deep inside that it almost hurts. He nips at the skin of his neck, the sharp bones of his hips hitting yours so roughly it’ll bruise.

It’s so hot that it’s dizzying, the stretch of his cock inside of you driving you near insanity. Your legs shake around his shoulders, your stomach cramping in anticipation of your next orgasm. You squeeze your eyes shut, digging your nails into your palms as it washes over you.

Your whole body shakes, pussy fluttering around him. He fucks you through it, his pace unrelenting as he chases his own high within your walls. You’re just barely coming to when he’s coming undone inside you once more, another gush of hot cum filling you up.

His hips stutter against yours as wave after wave fills you up. He gasps with each hot strand, his cock twitching inside of you. It’s nearly a minute before he’s done and you’re left so full it hurts.

He only takes a second to recover before he’s fucking into you again, chasing the heat within your walls. Both of you are soaked in sweat, gasping and whimpering and twitching with every motion—but neither of you care.

“M-move your legs.” He swallows, “need to be deeper.”

And then you’re folding your legs into your chest, pressed taut against your tits through your t-shirt. It only gives him better access to fuck you, his cock slamming deeper and deeper with every motion. He’s panting and struggling to catch his breath but his movements never falter.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, drawing him closer into you and planting kisses across his collar bone. His skin tastes like sweat and strawberries and you relish in it. Relish in him. 

Your pussy aches desperately, every inch of your skin feverish and wanting. Your head feels dizzy and you’re suddenly wondering how long you’ve been at this, but it feels so fucking good and he’s so fucking hot and all you want is to cum over and over and over again.

You let out a sob of pleasure as another orgasm tears through you, electricity crackling through your nerves. Your head goes fuzzy, the world around you fading away while wave after wave of pleasure wracks your body. All of your muscles seize, clenching and unclenching around his cock.

He cums with you, his thighs red and shaking from how hard he’s been fucking you. He lets himself drape over you, the weight of his body only adding to the dizzy fever threatening to take you.

The two of you lay there for a while longer, his cock still hard and your pussy still gushing. He twitches against you, and his small pants let you know that he still needs you just as bad as you need him.

You sob again, your poor pussy aching and abused and still clenching him like he’s the only thing you’ve ever needed. “Need more,” you whine, “can’t take more.”

He nods against you, sweaty hair tickling your sensitive skin. He slowly rolls your hips against yours and even that small motion has both of you cumming again, seizing against one another.

—

It’s hours before you’re fully coherent again. The sun has already started rising before Cass is able to move off of you, rolling onto the van floor next to you. 

The fever in your body has finally subsided but your strength is sapped from the dozens of orgasms you endured throughout the night.

In the afterglow of your orgasms, neither of you seem to notice or care about the pink, glowing puddle of fluids beneath you, or the rattling of the ghost trap in your backpack.

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

[netherfeildren]

How to Endure Ardor:

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel teaches you how to love him.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post outbreak; QZ Joel Miller; I'm saying this, but the setting is sort of ambiguous anyways, Stream of consciousness, Character Study, Alternating POVs; PIV sex; The troubles and toils of breaking up and then making up with a fucked up old man; Uncaring Joel; Mentions of painful sex; Toxic relationships or situationships or whatever you want to call it; I think I'm addicted to the idea of a Joel who'll never love you and I should probably see a doctor about it

A/N: she remembers how to write, who'd of thought!

Word Count: 1.3K

Read on AO3

This is a lesson:

“Tell me again,” she says, and it’s a begging.

A begging like what? Something that carries shame and smallness in the shape of it. Stay a little longer. It humiliates him for the wretchedness it pulls from him. Joel, please. Seeping blood the color of her supplication. Please, she says, please. And who else says please to him anymore? Who asks him for anything anymore but her? The only ones who ever had are long past and gone, and he can’t even barely remember they were ever really there to ask anything of him to begin with—can’t remember what it feels like to owe someone something and want to give it to them in a way that will actually make him. 

Tell me what again? That I want you? That I’ll stay? That I love you? I’ll come back, he says instead, the only thing he can promise and keep. And he wonders if it humiliates her too, the way he lies, the way he runs, the way he swears, the way he always comes back and comes back but never returns with the things she needs. A humiliation just like it is a begging. 

The thing they have: it’s strange, fickle, honest in its lies, very, very ugly. An ugliness that is shocking in a world gone to rot already. The sky doesn’t shine anymore and they bask in it. 

But also, and, the thing they have: it’s physical, saving.

This is obvious too, even if only to them.

He slides inside and you’re what? Hot and wet and slick, and—yes, a thing like a dream, but still only a thing. Something to have, something close to desire, but not quite, more like biological want. Woman turned possession. In his mind this is an excuse, a reason, a begetting. Like, what—like what? Like when you want a thing very badly but it is very bad for you, and you need to make up any excuse to have it, lie and lie and lie—to your mother, your best friend, the mirror—a begetting like that. Easy to understand only if you’ve been there. 

It started simple, it started like nothing, it started like the first time you meet someone and you know they’ll matter, you know they’ll mean something. So it started like what? Like a lie. 

Shifts at the QZ, long and toiling and reminders of the sort of life that died in an outbreak of monsters, only if for how unlike that past it was. Humans or fungus or—

—men who hurt—you, men who refuse your love, Joel Miller.

The crutch of your age, of you being weaker or smaller or in need, him being easily felled, wooed, easily conquered by something young and given without a try because there was never the opportunity for trying before. 

Now, it is like this: you take my cock and you take my come and you take my nothing, and I give so little and yet you still find a way to take and take and take, leech of a girl, dream of a girl, hungry. And with the excuse that it’s only in a way you contrive for your own self. But in the end, what does that make you? What do I make you into? 

These are the things he asks himself. 

Perhaps she goes away for a time, tries the route of escape, of variety. But when she inevitably comes back because addiction is riddled always in the same sorts of ways: did you try different bodies? Did you try different flavors and sounds? Did you look for me in all of them? 

The answer is usually yes.

At reunion’s turn: he rolls her over to face her, Joel, damp and panting and trying to be something—perhaps better, more honest—after a season of variety and honest attempts and shut eyes. He’s so hard for her, always is. 

Again: he slides inside and you’re what? His, undeniably. Not yours. Something to want but not desire because it’s too romantic a notion, and yes, there’s a difference even if he can’t put into words what that difference specifically is. Body and heart, perhaps, definitions that differ between disparate anatomical parts or levels of deniability. 

Nothing either of you have ever been able to put into words when lust and love aren’t things you can even say out loud for the shame of them, even if they exist within said same anatomy. 

You come together, the season passed, the separation passed but still kept at hand for the next time the closeness becomes too much. 

“Tell me again,” she says, and this time he remembers what she’s asking for.

“I fucking missed you, baby. Missed this pussy.” Because he can’t say it’s her heart he missed. Because Joel Miller does not have honesty in his arsenal. 

He spreads you wide, knee to shoulder so it hurts and pulls, so it’ll be sore and reminding tomorrow. The slap of his pelvis against the back of your thighs is obscene, wet and lewd, a string of girl cum keeping you connected, such togetherness, curve of your ass to the root of his cock—the two of you are together again. 

You know what I thought, when I tried to go away, you say. He doesn’t want to know, but he doesn't tell you so either, only slides in again, the mouth of your womb right there, threatening. I’m never going to feel like this again, and I hate how certainly I know that. He wonders if the unsaid part is that he’s the recipient of that feeling, the hate. 

He wonders if the pinch inside him is hurt. He wonders if the throb is love. 

All he says because he can’t say the rest is, I missed you, I missed you, and if he could look himself in the mirror—something that’s twenty years past lost—he’d ask: are you alright? Just tell me you’re okay. And it sounds in your own voice and with your own care and the feel of your own warmth. Is there anything I can do?

Other times, he sees himself through your own eyes, and then he knows for certain that the throb is love 

So he makes up for lost time, hard—and if it was a thing he knew how to be— loving. Mouth to cunt first, primed and soft and begging, making you come again and then another once more, then inside of you. Slow, splitting you open, red cunt like a wound, balls slapping wet, pulling out to watch the gape of the space he’s carved for himself. His cock is so hard and missing you something desperate. And he’s reminded of what it is to really miss something in a way he hadn’t been in twenty years of apocalypse, he’s forced to realized that it’s been so long since he’d had something to love that he’d not realized the feeling of missing that long past someone had gone away, only faint memory remained. 

Violent, is what this makes him after that realization—thrusts turning hard and punishing. How dare you give yourself to me? How dare you then take yourself away? You come around him again, the gift of your orgasm. How dare you not be able to accept the little I’m able to give when I’m trying so desperately fucking hard to give you even just this? 

He fucks you mean, he fucks you in the way of a man who doesnt know how to say the things he needs to say, in a way that’s confusing, that could make a less discerning woman feel only the hurt. 

But then again, you know him.

Fucks you in a way that is a little bit like love.

And so, amidst all of it, there is an honesty amongst the lies. A truth unspoken that they both know—I’ll come back because I need you, because you’re the only one who can give me the things I'm not strong enough to ask for out loud. 

You’re not sure which of the two of you is the one saying it.

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog

[honeybeedrabble]

Casanova (Cheating!Sasuke x AFAB!Reader) - iii

CW: MINIMAL EDITING !!! mean!sasuke x AFAB!reader, reader pregnancy, homewrecker!reader, deadbeat dad activities, cheating, piv (unprotected), creampie, spitting/spit play, oral (f receiving) degradation (loser, whore), zero after care, breeder!sasuke, generally scummy behavior, lmk if i missed anything. short chapter lol

18+ MDNI !!!!!!!!!!

Sasuke knew he hated himself, like seriously- hated himself. He hated himself because everytime he came home he was reminded that he destroyed the family he loved so much just because he wanted to fuck you. Sure, the first time was an accident, if anything he helped you the first time! At least that’s what he told himself to be able to sleep at night. But the second time? The second time was pure lust, nothing but dirty lust that had taken over him and made him want to fuck you.

What didn’t help was how he heard people talk about you. How they would gossip about how nice your newly found motherhood was, and how it was sweet you’d decided to have your own little family. He hated that whenever people would ask who the father was you’d dodge the question, a flustered blush overwhelming your face as you clutched your chest.

But probably what Sasuke hated most of all was how the days went by and your belly got bigger, he got hard at just the sight of you. Your skin was always glowing, your breasts bigger, and of course your stomach bigger. He would think about how hot it was that he had gotten you pregnant, showing off how you were his, regardless as to how nobody knew it. In fact, the ignorance of how it was him got him unbelievably horny.

Whenever he would fuck his wife, he would put a hand flat on her stomach, feel the way his cock would bulge underneath, and imagine it was you while caressing where your child would’ve been. Sakura had no idea of course, she was just happy to get dicked down after a strange dry spell. Sasuke silently refused to fuck her, out of shame and pity mostly, but after getting hot and bothered by just the sight of you for weeks mixed with the feeling of sexual frustration he had to let himself go.

After the deed was done, his post but clarity kicked in like no tomorrow.

What am I going to do? How fucked am I?

He thought as he looked to his side and watched as his wife would catch her breath, post orgasm. He shook his head, pulling the covers up to his chest to cover himself up. Sakura rolled over, putting a hand to his covered chest.

“We haven’t done that in quite a while, huh?” she softly laughed, still breathing in and out.

“Yeah,” he smiled, looking away quickly. Sakura furrowed her brow.

“Are you okay?” She asked, sitting up and closer to him.

“Um, yeah… why?”

“It’s just… you’ve been so distant lately, and that’s saying something.” She nudged him and Sasuke made a halfhearted laugh. “You’ve been like this for weeks… if I didn’t know any better I’d assume something…” Sasuke tensed up.

“Assume what?” He bit back, jaw clenched. Sakura was taken aback.

“All I’m saying is ever since that genjutsu user got away you’ve been acting strange. You don’t feel bad about her getting away, do you?” Sakura asked, tone softer.

“She didn’t get away…” Sasuke muttered.

“Huh?”

“Oh, um… Her. Yeah, that’s what it is.” Sasuke replied, rolling over and facing away from Sakura. She giggled.

“Oh Sasuke, you’ve always been so hard on yourself.”

“For good reason…” He sighed, once again the feelings of shame and guilt returned.

“There you go again. Why don’t we just change the subject, hmm?” Sakura asked. Sasuke wanted to vomit when she said your name.

“W-what about her?” he felt the bile building up in his throat.

“Well you know how she’s pregnant right?”

“Yes, yes, of course I know she’s pregnant! What about her?”

“Well she’s coming into the hospital tomorrow for an ultrasound! When I found out I just knew I had to be her doctor so I’m going to be giving her her screening!” Sakura chirped happily.

Without a word Sasuke got out of bed, not facing her the whole time.

“Sorry, I just realized I have to go to the bathroom,” he said, walking out the door.

“Oh okay, we’ll can you bring me a glass of water when you come back?” Sakura called as he was already walking down the hall.

“Yup.” He responded. He locked himself in the bathroom and turned the fan on, then vomited into the toilet before tangling his fingers into his hair and silently crying as his heart beat out his chest.

___________________

You had no idea of course, so nobody could imagine the slurry of emotions erupting inside of you when Sakura walked into the room, clipboard in hand for your check up. You laid back on the examination bed, heart beating out of your chest as she made conversation with you about your baby.

“You can tell me, c’mon! Who’s the father,” she asked, pouring jelly on your belly and spreading it around.

“I can’t…” you frowned.

“Why not?” She asked, turning to the screen and flipping it on.

“It’s cause,” you felt sweat bead on your forehead, you felt sick and had no idea how to tell her this was her husbands child. “It’s cause I had a sperm donor.”

Sakura spun around in the seat and looked at you.

“No kidding! So you’ve really wanted to be a mom that badly?” She asked, moving the small device around on your stomach.

“Um… Yeah I guess so,” you mustered a laugh.

“Didn’t they tell you who the donor was? Y’know if I check your appointment date I can see who’s they gave you-“

“Oh no that’s fine! I didn’t have a preference…” You lied as you both shifted your attention to the screen. “Just wanted it to be healthy…”

Soon enough the fetus was on screen and Sakura gasped with delight.

“Well it seems healthy to me!”

“Um, do you know it’s gender yet?” You asked, shamefully curious.

“Well it’s too early to tell, that’s also why it’s so small.” She pressed a little harder against you, and shifted it around. She pointed at the top of the oblong shape. “There’s the head.”

You smiled as you looked at it, then your face dropped. You felt tears roll down your face and soon enough you were crying. Sakura turned her head to see you.

“I’m sorry…” you cried, wiping your face.

“No no! It’s okay, plenty of mothers cry when they get their ultrasound done it’s completely fine! It’s also all those hormones don’t worry.” She sat closer to you and gave you a small hug, running her hand up and down your back.

You wished she had punched you, kicked you, or even yelled at you, maybe then you wouldn’t feel so bad about being her husbands mistress and baby mother. But instead she was coddling you and telling you it would be alright, which it certainly would not be. Eventually you stopped crying and Sakura grabbed her clipboard and started writing down on it. She tore a piece of paper out and handed it to you.

“It’s a list of some prenatal vitamins, they’ll make you feel better especially when you start to get further into your first trimester.” She was too sweet, and you were so shitty.

_______________________

That night after dinner you heard a knock at your door and when you saw who it was you wished you slammed it immediately.

“Can I come in?” Sasuke asked, looking around nervously.

“Get the fuck in here.” You muttered. He shut the door behind him and locked it. You crossed your arms angrily.

“You know it’s already fucked up as it is that I have to raise your child alone, and now i’m reminded that your wife literally exists. You know she gave my ultrasound?” Sasuke cringed. “Yeah. Didn’t think about giving me a heads up?”

“I can explain-“

“Oh! So you did know?”

“Listen-“

“What the fuck…” you cried, sobbing into your hands and turning away from him.

“So emotional…”

“Fuck you, loser.”

“If i didn’t know your hormones were out of control right now I’d remind you that out of the both of us the real loser might be the one carrying the married man’s child.” Sasuke snapped. You growled low, then with an open palm struck him across the face. He winced, a soft grunt escaping his lips.

“I should kill this damn fetus that you find so fascinating. I hate it. I hate you. Everyday i’m reminded there’s something disgusting growing inside of me that you put there, it makes me sick.” You cried again, ugly sobs ripping their way out through your lungs to bounce around the walls of your home.

“It’s not my fault you were acting like such a whore that day.” Sasuke frowned, his hand running over the red skin on his face.

“If you had killed that genjutsu user we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You got in the way.” You scoffed.

“Always so pretentious, aren’t you?”

“It’s the truth. I could’ve handled it but no, you just needed to show off.”

“Show off? You’re one to talk. You’re practically showing off to the whole village how you got me knocked up everywhere I go.” Your brows furrowed. Sasuke was silent.

He knew you were right. Maybe he knew it was the pot calling the kettle black, but he was backed into a corner. Something about the word ‘loser’ struck a nerve with him. A deadbeat dad with a distant wife- no fault of anyone else but him. Did he somehow think starting a family with you would be some sort of do-over? something to rid him of his guilt?

When he looked at his wife he saw a beautiful woman, strong and accomplished. But how can you have any room for attraction to someone you have so much guilt for. Guilt for his old days of vengeance and hate, guilt for his job that kept him away from home for years.

But you? You were a fresh face. Beaming with optimism and a subtle hint of indifference that he knew he could change. You had something Sasuke couldn’t quite identify, simply being around you now felt dangerous. Sure, it could be, but it was more than the thrill of danger. You were his whim, his drug, the fever he couldn’t sweat out and being inside of you was the only place he wanted to be every hour of everyday. Maybe you have animosity for him now but could this family save you? more importantly- could it save Sasuke?

You took a deep breath in, shakily letting it go.

“You need to leave…” You were about to walk for the door when a possessive hand grasped your wrist. You froze.

“You don’t understand, I need you.” His voice was almost a whisper, the low growl that it almost produced set a shiver up your spine.

“I…” you started, face flush from his sudden shift. “Please, I can’t deal with you right now. You’re just too confusing.”

Sasuke gripped you brash and pinned you against the nearest wall, mounted frames ratted when you made contact. You gasped, your free hand coming to rest at your belly.

“Sasuke! You can’t just do that! It’s not good for the baby, knock it off,” your face burned hot. Sasuke raised a brow, a small smirk pricking up.

“Oh? So you do care about the well being of our baby, huh?” Bastard. He had you.

He leaned down partially, teasing you with a warm breath against your lips. You fought yourself to not close the gap, your mind racing and your face flaming. Soon enough you gave into your impulses and kissed him passionately.

You both let out an exhale, his soft lips making yours wet with his saliva. He opened his mouth to lick your sweet lips, tracing how plush they were only for his tongue to slip past them and feel along your own. His tongue ran along the smooth underside of yours, then swirled back up to trace your rougher taste buds, leaving his own flavor behind.

He grunted when you tangled your fingers in his hair, digging deep towards his roots and gently yanking when he pressed a growing erection into your swollen core. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck and he carried you to your bedroom, where he laid you down onto the mattress as soon as you both arrived.

Sasuke ripped off your pajama pants then ducked down to the valleys of your flesh, kissing in between your thighs to suck deep hickeys into. You moaned and writhed under his chin, then he made haste to your sensitive pussy, licking hard against your clit. You let out a harsh and untamed cry of pleasure, it almost sounded like you were in pain. But the way you bucked your hips into his mouth and dig deeper into his scalp proved otherwise.

You didn’t realize your body was craving Sasuke for so long until mere seconds later you were cumming on his tongue, hoarse moans and soft whimpers escaped your lips without warning as your juices filled his mouth. Sasuke palmed himself when you flooded into him, he swallowed every drop you could’ve given him and when you were done with your orgasm he didn’t stop devouring you until you were shaking like a leaf.

Sasuke roughly grabbed one of your tits as he stood up, looking down at you through narrowed eyes, you quivered under his gaze.

“Off.” He commanded. You took off your tank top and threw it across the room. Sasuke swooped down to caress your tits in his hand and mouth, biting harshly on your sensitive nipples. You clenched around nothing when he did so, thighs clamping shut around his torso.

He quickly came off of you and he undid his pants, you watched as the waistband of his pants and boxers fell to the floor, his large cock standing straight up against his chiseled abdomen.

There were no words spoken between the two of you. No promises of love, no claims of possession, no gifts exchanged or fancy jewelry to court with, no battles won to impress with, and no acts of tenderness. Only one single thing was present and that was the absolute orgasmic pleasure that came from being impaled be Sasukes cock over and over and over again. He got off watching you bounce from underneath him, your tits giggling every time he bottomed out and his balls smacked against your ass.

Sasuke bit his lip to stutter his moans when you started shaking again. Your climax looked almost like a seizure, more whimpers and cries were let out as you shook, only to be met with more tremors the longer he fucked you, continuing to deliver what practically seemed like pleasure epilepsies.

“F-Fuck! Sasuke, you’re so good…” you mewled, toes curling when he hit that good spot deep inside of you.

His hips didn’t slow their violent pace, his thumb traced along your clit, rubbing tight circles against it with he pad of his finger.

“Yeah…” he grunted, pace getting rougher. “You like this dick, huh? You like it so much you got pregnant from it, little whore.” He smirked, teasing you with long, deep strokes that slowed down to an agonizing pace.

You breathed heavily, heart pounding so loud and fast you were scared you might have a heart attack.

“Fuck- yeah…” you blubbered, hips twisting when you felt him bottom out.

“You’re gonna raise my fucking baby, aren’t you?” Sasuke murmured, his pace intensified and yet again you were crying out again.

“Y-yeah,” you whimpered, legs shaking as Sasuke obliterated your leaky pussy.

“That’s right… you’d do anything for this uchiha dick, wouldn’t you?” He asked with a smirk as he jackhammered you raw with his thick rod.

You neared your orgasm, cunt clenching tight and making Sasuke grunt as he continued to rail you. You nodded, eyes rolling back as your eye brows furrowed. Your mouth fell open and Sasuke took this opportunity to spit into it, you shocked yourself when you swallowed it. Sasuke had a feeling you would but watching you do it made him go crazy and his pace inside of you was excruciating.

“Say you want our baby, say you’re keeping it,” Precum was spilling out of you, it was fully mixed in with your arousal and your ass was drenched from your fluids dripping down.

“I want our baby, Sasuke- I… I’m keeping it I promise…” your face burned, your body surprised you would utter such words to the man who ruined you.

It didn’t matter for much longer since you came hard on his cock, appendages flying all around him to get him even closer to you. He complied and pressed himself deeper into you, almost as if he were fusing into you. his cock twitched when he filled you up with hot cum and you loved hearing his soft moans. you wrapped your legs around him to keep him right inside of you and if it wasn’t for the fact it was sasuke who had led you to this misfortunate spot, you wouldn’t be upset by the state you’re in now.

Eventually Sasuke got off of you and clothed himself. His pants covering his sex, almost as if in a way he was ashamed of where it had got him. Hiding it away from the mess he had made.

“I’ve got to go, I’ve already overstayed my welcome.” Sasuke sighed, he turned around and looked back over his shoulder at you. “Goodnight.”

You were still naked and drenched in sweat and sperm, juices leaking down your legs. It was like he injected you with his own venomous guilt for living, having desire, having your own craving for freedom through your sex. That freedom was gone now, only one of you had to deal with this fuck up. Now this venom was killing you. It was as if the most pleasurable knife was jabbed inside of you and you were bleeding out your emotions.

The sheets were all messed up besides you and as you watched him go you were glad he didn’t offer to tuck you in. A good man would’ve offered, a better would’ve tucked you in without even asking. In a way, it was confirmation he was a shitty lover and maybe even a worse partner. It made you feel better he wouldn’t do such an intimate thing for the fling like this when he has a wife and child at home.

Still shaken, you managed to sit upright, angry and defeated. You knew your body and mouth betrayed you of the freedom you wanted so badly. They reinforced his belief that you wanted to keep this anchor of a weight that was Sasuke Uchihas child. You were furious your body betrayed you and led you down a path of self destruction. You felt cheated, then felt worse when you realized that the only person who should really feel that way was Sakura.

AN: i have been LAGGING !!! i am so sorry gang i'm trying to be better with posting like how i used to but somethings been up idk what is is or when it'll be over but i think i just gotta womp womp my way through it. anyways i'm sorry if i forgot to add you to the tag list just leave a comment and i'll add you to the next part.

tag list: @just-your-emo-sensei @princess-saki1 @mandy-yeager @emmaaas-posts

[thwd4510]

Zayne x f!reader who loves the smell of alcohol.

○o。. ○o。. ○o。.

mentions of sex, slightly suggestive themes

summary: meeting up with zayne at the hospital after finishing up a mission so you can go home together. the strong scent of alcohol clings to him, much to your satisfaction.

A soft knock resounds from the other side of Zayne's office door. You decided to stop by at Akso Hospital just so you could both head home together.

"Come in," Zayne's ever firm, but rather tired-sounding voice echoed from inside.

You gently pulled down the door handle, revealing his dimly lit doctor's office where he sat at his desk, swarmed with neatly stacked paperwork. Momentarily looking up from the rims of his thin glasses, he pauses the scribbling of his pen as he notices you. A warm smile tugs at each corner of his lips as you approach him.

"My love," he began, turning his swivel chair to face you. "It's late, yet you came here instead of going home."

He outstretched his arms, beckoning you to come and close the space between you. You warmly embrace him, gently sitting on his lap as his arms fervently wrap around your torso. Zayne burries his face in the crook of your neck, relishing in the comfort of your presence.

"I wanted to wait for you to get off work as well, so we can go home together." You smiled, fingers coming up to his head, carding through his slightly dishevelled hair, a bit messed up from the stress of his work day.

He only hums in response, the low vibration from his voice causing a few goosebumps to appear on your skin. For a moment, peaceful silence envelops the room as you two find warmth and relaxation in each other's hold. Besides the white noise from the air conditioning ringing in your ears, you finally take notice of the strong scent of alcohol from your boyfriend.

Ever since you were little, you often found yourself in the clinic or hospital due to a few health issues. The scents of alcohol/disinfectant and latex gloves are things you've grown accustomed to—comforted by, even. Not to mention that your boyfriend often comes home and instantly shrouds any room he's in with the same scent. You've learned to associate such smells with Zayne, being reminded of his handsome face every time you disinfect your hands after a mission.

And, oh, you just can't forget the countless times you've had sexual encounters with him while he smelled like that. Your skin pressed up against each other, faces just inches away as he grounds his hips into you with fervor. The air is always filled with the smell of sweat, sex, and... alcohol.

It drove you half crazy.

You take a long, deep inhale of Zayne's white coat, the smell settling deep within your sinuses as you sigh.

Zayne lifts his head, a little startled by your sudden sniffing.

"Y/N," he whispered, a small smirk on his face. "What are you doing?"

You pull back, a coy smile on your face, and meet his gaze.

"You smell so good."

Zayne chuckled at your remark, reaching up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb lovingly drawing circles on your skin.

"But I smell like alcohol, love."

"Yeah, I know. That's why..." You trailed off, letting his hand remove itself from your cheek as you dove back down for another whiff of him.

"You are quite strange." Zayne chuckled heartily once more, hands cozily resting on the small of your back.

His strong scent overwhelms your senses in the best way possible, making your heart flutter with each inhale. You laugh nasally, your warm breath hitting Zayne's neck, making his hairs stand on end. You continue your endeavors, nose burried in the collar of his coat, drowning yourself in the sharp scents.

"Y/N," Zayne softly huffed, your actions obviously taking effect on him.

His hands grip you ever-so-slightly tighter as you make small movements in his lap. You pay no mind to his words as you finally stop and rest your head on his broad shoulder.

"You enjoyed that quite a lot." Zayne's ears, warm and red, are the first things that greet your vision as you reopen your eyes.

"I got a little carried away. You just smell so good, though," you giggle softly, pressing a sudden kiss to the end of his jaw.

You watch as his Adam's apple bobs up and down from a sudden swallow, his throat feeling a bit dry. Zayne clears his throat a bit, adjusting himself as you finally step down from his lap. He swiftly puts the paper on his desk atop one of the neat piles, putting the pen away as well.

Getting up from his chair and pushing it in carefully, he turns back to you with a relieved sigh as the work day finally comes to a close.

"Let's go," he says, shaking off his white coat and hanging it up. "You can continue your little smelling inspection when we get back home."

You happily take his hand and step out his office, waving goodbye to the familiar staff at Akso Hospital. Few have noticed the small tent forming on Dr. Zayne's pants, choosing not to call it out as he left hand in hand with you.

He never noticed just how much you enjoyed what he thought was an unpleasant smell. Perhaps now he finally enjoys smelling like a surgeon.

ahhh... my first post on tumblr (≧□≦)im a little shy, but at the same time im sure not many (if any) people will see this hehe

hope u enjoyed reading this little fic i wrote after smelling some alcohol lol.

[moonydustx]

Good Medicine

Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

warnings: F!reader is sick, Law has some problems taking action to take care of her. Pre-established relationship, mentions of disgusting things about being sick (basically vomiting) , fluff

a/n: maybe I'll rewrite this better later, I just needed to get it out there to see if it sparked my creativity.

requests open | one piece masterlist

Today was one of those days where you woke up already knowing something was wrong, your only mission was to find out what. The plate in front of you looked strange that morning. The same coffee, the same bread, everything seemed wrong. The same went for your body, it seemed to weigh tons and your stomach was boiling with something that went beyond the hot drink in front of you.

"Are you okay?" Shachi snapped you out of your reverie, watching you roll a piece of the sandwich from one side to the other.

"I just need to get some air." You stood up, not having the trouble to even take your plate off the table.

With hurried steps, you reached the bathroom with just enough time to open the toilet seat before all your breakfast went away. You just hoped that like a good hangover, emptying it would be enough to improve but apparently you were wrong.

You had recently left the last island you had visited, which meant more things to keep: more work for you. In those days, you knew that rest would be scarce, as would the times you would meet your captain - who also served as your boyfriend in his spare time. Chills ran through your body as you struggled to stack two boxes of medical supplies, your body seemed to sweat more than usual. You heard your name being called in the distance, needing to focus a few times before you saw Law approaching.

"Are you ok?" He analyzed you from top to bottom. Pale lips, deep dark circles, something was wrong.

"Yes captain." you replied, respecting your treaty for when you were in public. "Just some heartburn."

"Keep an eye on it. You know where to find the medicine." he simply responded, analyzing you once more before leaving.

You finished putting away the boxes and leaned against the wall, trying to regain the air and strength lost in the whole process. Following the quick orders your captain had given, you swallowed some pills and continued with your tasks, even though your body seemed to fight against every movement.

You loved Law and you knew he loved you too, but sometimes it was a little difficult to deal with how methodical he could be especially when it came to being sick. On days like these, he tended to be more of a doctor than a boyfriend and you hated that. Ignoring the thoughts, you made your way to your shared room, reaching the bed and seeing Ikkaku hanging from the top.

"What ghost scared you?"

"What you mean?" you threw yourself against the pillows, using the blanket.

"You're pale, you look like you're going to disappear." She came down, standing in front of you and placing her hand on your forehead. "And you're burning up with a fever."

"I've already taken my medicine." you covered your head, trying to escape the cold that only you felt. "I just need to get some sleep."

"Did you eat anything bad?" She pulled your blanket back. "Or are you pregnant?"

"I'm betting more on the first hypothesis." you immediately reassured her, knowing that for the other proposal, you and Law were always responsible in terms of protecting each other. "I think it's just a virus."

"Did you warn Law?"

"He asked me to..." you sat down, to continue talking, but again your stomach turned.

Without responding, you ran once again towards the bathroom, this time Ikkaku's hurried footsteps followed you.

"Open the door." she asked and even though she didn't see it, you shook your head. A few minutes passed before it knocked again.

"I am worried." she warned. "Open the door or I'll have to call him here."

"It is not necessary." you reached up, unlocking the lock. "I'm just a little dizzy."

"Let me help you." Ikkaku pulled you, supporting your body as you washed your face. "Are you sure the medicine alone is enough?"

"Yes." you replied with clear discouragement in your voice.

"I'm going back to my room, maybe getting some sleep will help me."

Walking a few meters from the bathroom, the two of you came face to face with Law followed by Bepo, both discussing something about the likely next island they would find.

"Are you feeling ok?" Bepo was the first to ask and you just nodded. Law's gaze burned over you again, analyzing every inch of your body.

He knew there was something wrong, but he didn't know how far he wanted to intervene, for fear that you would feel uncomfortable.

"Do you need any help?" he asked in your direction, waiting for you to say yes.

"It's okay captain." you replied before Ikkaku spoke for you, giving what was your best smile for the moment.

he two of you walked away from him and it didn't take long for you to reach the bedroom. Ikkaku helped you get to the bed and watched you cover yourself up to your head. Being one of the only two people who knew about your relationship with the captain, she sat at the foot of the bed, watching you.

"Are you sure you don't want to ask him for help?"

"He's going to medicate me, probably tell me to eat and rest. I've already done almost all of that." you answered. "I don't want to be a problem for him, I know it's not in his profile to take care of someone like that, in a more intimate way."

"But it's what you need right now." she replied, walking away. "Get some rest, I'll ask them to prepare something light for you to eat."

The lights went out and you remained there in a light doze bothered by the fever. Ikkaku followed with firm steps, finding the captain heading towards his room, approaching him halfway and pretending to be angry.

"Captain, I need to talk to you."

She tried to appear more imposing in order to advocate for her friend, but she knew that would be a bit difficult when the person you want to impose yourself on is your captain. Law just gave her space to enter the room, closing the door for her.

"What happened?"

"Are you really going to let your girlfriend walk around dying?" she crossed her arms, indignant.

"She said it was just heartburn."

"That was her talking to her doctor. With her boyfriend she would definitely ask for help. Can I give some unsolicited advice captain?" Ikkaku leaned on the table, taking the opportunity to look around.

"I guess I have no choice, right?"

"She's burning up with a fever in her room, she vomited her guts out and can't stand up." with each new symptom, Law was the one who seemed to get paler and more worried. "Take care of her a little. A little affection is also good medicine."

"Right..." he seemed to analyze, waiting for more answers from the woman in front of him.

"I'll ask them to prepare some soup for her and leave it in her room, okay?"

"Could it be." Law turned his back to Ikkaku, ready to leave. "Thank you. This time I won't throw you into the sea out of insolence." he joked, earning a few laughs from the woman.

Law knew something was wrong, now he needed to find out why you didn't ask for his help. He walked quickly and felt his heart shatter when he found you curled up and shaking under the blanket.

"Just let me sleep Ikkaku, I don't know if I can eat right now." your dejected voice murmured, squeezing Law's heart even more.

Now it was all so clear, so obvious that part of the doctor felt ashamed for not having noticed it before. You were so careful with anyone who even cut a piece of their finger, it was obvious you wanted the same treatment.

"Hey, sorry it took me so long." he whispered. You opened your eyes and found Law bent down on your bed, his fingers were removing the strands stuck to your face by sweat. "I'm going to do a quick scan on you."

He warned and then used the sword he carried, analyzing every millimeter of your body. It seemed to be a virus and a resistant one. That would explain the fever and the tremors.

"Let me take proper care of you."

"No." you murmured, feeling his arms go around your legs and back, picking you up. "I already took medicine."

"I know."

"And I don't want to be tied up in an IV." you tried to pull away from him, feeling your stomach drop at the movement.

"I'm not going to medicate you." the blue dome appeared around the two of you.

"And I think I need to throw up."

At the last second, Law changed your fate, taking you to the bathroom. As soon as the gray walls of your room turned into the walls of the bathroom, you reached the floor again, leaning over the toilet and despite the immense urge your body didn't seem to have any more bile to be expelled. It took him a few seconds to follow you, but soon his hands found your hair, holding it with one hand while the other passed your forehead.

"Law." you called and flinched, pressing your own body against yourself. "It hurts."

"I'm so sorry sweetheart." he placed his hand on top of yours, which was pressed against your stomach. "You still have a fever and haven't eaten anything, we need energy for your body." he confirmed, gently lifting you off the ground. "Come on, I'll give you a bath.

"I'm disgusting."

"That's the point." Law spoke and saw you laugh, albeit lightly, which was already a relief for him. "I'm just kidding. Let's try to get this fever down."

Knowing that you didn't have enough strength to even talk, Law guided you to the shower, taking off your clothes while you leaned on him. As soon as the cold water came into contact with your body, you tried to escape and were immediately held by your boyfriend.

"Law!"

"Just a little, I know it's pretty cold." he allowed you to hug him even more and consequently get him wet in the process. "I promise, just a few minutes and I'll take you back to our room."

"If I survive until then."

"Do not say that." He scolded you, even though he knew that your way of dealing with problems was always sarcastic - sometimes even too much.

Law slowly turned off the shower. The first breeze that hit your damp skin made you cling against him and whimper, Law's usually colder skin this time was a warm pleasure to your body.

You felt a drastic difference in the environment and broke away from the man, seeing that you were in his room. Law guided you to sit on the bed and pulled a small blanket over your shoulders while he looked for some clothes for you to wear. Taking advantage of the comfort, you lay down and watched him walk from one side to the other.

"Can you sit down?" He knelt in front of you, using a small towel to dry your still damp skin.

Leaning on his shoulders, you sat on the bed and for a few minutes, you felt like a delicate, small doll. Using the extra strength he had that you lacked, Law dressed your body piece by piece, like a delicate puzzle. Even with the simple touch of your hand on your shoulder, Law could feel you tremble, probably due to the weakness that the virus brought to you.

A few minutes later, you were dressed. A pair of baggy black sweatpants and a blouse of the same size. Surprising you by showing that he had more pieces than the hat adorned with black circles, Law placed a black cap on your head, adjusting your ears so that they were also warm in the fabric.

"Unfortunately, we can't use that." he pushed away the blanket you were about to use. "If you cover yourself up and get hotter than that, it will only make your fever worse."

Avoiding your grumble, Law sat with his coat against the wall and pulled you to sit against his chest. Watching you curl up against his body, Law picked up the small bowl on the table next to him that Ikkaku had probably left as they agreed.

"I do not want it." you tried to move it away with your hand, having used your strength in vain as Law didn't move an inch. "I just want to sleep, just a little."

"Just a few spoonfuls and I'll let you sleep. It's that or more medicine." He warned, seeing you pout at the time. "Come on, I'll help you."

"Sorry to bring you into this."

"You don't need to say sorry." Law wished he could get rid of that virus right away when he saw you grunting in pain when you swallowed the first spoonful of food. "I should have noticed sooner, I know I can be more distant sometimes, but I need you to make it clear when you need me in moments like this."

"But what about the others, if they suspect something?" you accepted the other spoonful of food, the discomfort this time was smaller but still present.

"It's okay as long as you're okay."

Supporting the bowl of soup in one hand and the spoon in the other, Law convinced you to eat just five more spoonfuls, the last one being enough for him to see you push the bowl away and writhe in pain again. Law placed the bowl in the same room he was in before and saw you cling to his body, your eyes already heavy.

"Law you're going to get sick." you mumbled, already practically giving in to sleep.

"Don't worry about that." the last thing you felt was his lips on your forehead. "And if I stay, it will be worth staying with you."

[vickiee-mcmuffin]

Ahhh your requests are open!! You can write a smut where the reader is America's friend (of legal age!!!) and has a crush on Stephen. I would be happy if you can do something really dirty with dirty talk and creampie.

A little crush

Word count: 3.4k

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Female Reader

Trope: Explicit smut, Age gap, Oral (F Receiving), (18+ Warning, Minors DNI)

Summary: You became good friends with America when you started your journey at Kamar Taj a few months ago. But you also found yourself having a bit of a crush on America’s carer, Doctor Stephen Strange.

A/N: This is a very old request, so I’m not sure if the person who asked for this is still here. But I hope you like this idea.

You were glad that it was America you had met first at Kamar Taj. She was sweet, friendly, and welcoming, and it only took a few months for you two to become best friends.

She was staying in New York with one of the masters: the one and only Doctor Stephen Strange. He had helped America out: saving her after a witch attempted to steal her powers. That was when Stephen became America’s carer, and since the two of you were so close, you often found yourself spending your days and nights at the sanctum. You’d see Stephen a lot, and you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t have a crush on him. He was a good twenty years older than you, but you found him so handsome, and there had been so many nights where you laid in bed having the filthiest of fantasies about him. There was no way you could ever tell America, though.

Just like a lot of other nights, you were staying over at the sanctum. You were resting with America in her room after a long day of training when the urge to down a cold drink hit you.

“I’m gonna go get some soda,” you told her.

Smiling at you, America nodded. “Okay.”

You began your journey to the kitchen, but that was when you made your way past Stephen’s room. The door was open with just the tiniest of cracks and you could hear music pouring through. You couldn’t help it when you looked through the little gap, gasping when you saw Stephen in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and one on his shoulders, his hair slightly damp from the shower. He was humming to the song in the background, and you found yourself staring. He was just so damn beautiful.

Suddenly, Stephen looked in your direction. Your eyes locked and you backed away fast, spinning on your heels. 

“Y/N?” you heard Stephen call out to you. 

But you ignored him, your cheeks bright red and your heart racing. You chose to just forget about your drink and scurry back to America’s room.

You weren’t sure how you’d face Stephen again.

******

A few hours had passed since your little incident with Stephen. You and America were deep in conversation when there was a knock at her door.

“Come in!” America called out.

Stephen pushed the door open, eyes darting between the two of you. “You two should get some rest now. It’s late and you both have training tomorrow.”

America nodded. “Okay.”

Then Stephen’s eyes landed on you, and slowly but surely, he ran them up and down your body. He shot you a little smile, one that made your body tingle. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

It was hard to fall asleep after that. After the way he looked at you. You tossed and turned, your mind not letting you forget how dark his eyes had got as he stared your way. You needed something to cool you down, so you hopped out of bed to get a drink. You moved into the kitchen as quietly as you could, pouring yourself some cold water, just about to raise the glass to your lips.

“What are you doing?” a deep voice asked.

You gasped and jumped, heart racing as you turned to see Stephen. “You made me jump!”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to know why you were still awake.”

“I just wanted to get a drink. I can’t sleep.”

It stayed quiet between the two of you, but your skin felt hot and tingly as Stephen took slow steps your way.

“Are you okay?” he asked, head tilted a little.

You turned around. Stephen was so close to you. Closer than he had ever been. You stared into his eyes before looking at the floor, feeling your face go all hot. You must have been blushing.

“I’m good,” you finally said.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked, taking another slow step your way.

“No. No, you’re not.”

“Why won’t you look at me then?”

Swallowing, you realised just how close Stephen was. Just inches away. You could smell him. That deep, masculine scent. It made your whole body heat up. “I can’t tell you. It’s embarrassing...”

You felt a long finger on your chin, your head tilting up. You met Stephen’s eyes and just like earlier, his eyes moved up and down your body. Slowly, he leaned in close, his soft-looking lips by your ear. “I know that you were watching me earlier. I bet you liked what you saw, huh?”

“I… Um. Ma-ma-maybe,” you stuttered, unable to think of the correct words to say. 

Stephen kept his eyes on you and chuckled. “Seems to me that a certain someone here has a crush on me, hmm?”

“I’m so sorry, Stephen.”

“No, you’re not sorry. I’ve known about your little crush on me for a while now.”

You had been caught. Really, you weren’t sorry. He knew about your little crush on him and had caught you red-handed with your eyes on him. You weren’t subtle or slick. No. You were painfully obvious.

Stephen pressed his broad body to yours suddenly, and it had you gasping.

“Stephen?” you asked, grabbing his arm.

“Tell me, Y/N. Tell me what you want from me,” he whispered.

“No, I can’t.”

“You can.”

“It’s… bad. It’s inappropriate. You’re so much older than me.”

Stephen laughed lowly. “Is it inappropriate that I think about you?”

Blinking at him, you gave him a wide-eyed stare. “You do?”

“Yes. A lot.”

“Oh...”

You couldn’t hold yourself back anymore after that. Standing on the tips of your toes, you softly pressed your lips to his. The kiss was slow and soft as Stephen held you to him, the two of you sharing a sweet kiss. But then you remembered your friend. The girl who had been so kind and warm to you.

You pulled away from Stephen quickly, your hands on his chest as you shook your head. “We can’t do this.”

Stephen’s brows pulled together. “Why?”

“What about America? What if she finds out?”

“She doesn’t have to know. This can be our secret. America is sleeping right now, anyway. I won’t tell her if you don’t.”

You could definitely keep the secret to yourself. You already had experience with that. Humming, you nodded at Stephen. “Okay,” you said. “As long as you promise to keep us a secret because I’m not sure how America would react if she saw us doing this. I never want to lose her as a friend.”

“I won’t say a word to her. I promise.”

You knew you could trust him. You kissed him again, pushing your tongue into his mouth, the kiss growing more intense by the second, his hands moving all over your body until he grabbed you and lifted you onto the kitchen counter. One big hand pushed through the elastic of your pyjama bottoms. He pressed a skilled finger to your clit, his finger circling against the wet, sensitive bud. You whined against Stephen’s lips, the feeling sending a spark up your body.

“You’re so wet, Sweetheart. Go on, tell me. Tell me what you want,” Stephen asked you again.

“I want you so bad,” you finally confessed with a cry.

“Good girl.” Stephen grabbed at you, picking you up from the counter as your legs wrapped around his waist. “I’m gonna give you what you want.”

He held you tight as he carried you to his bedroom. Stephen kicked the door shut and with a wave of his hand, the sound of the door locking hit your ears. He must have locked his door with some kind of spell. A second later, his tongue was back in your mouth, his grunts and groans loud as he got you settled on the bed. His eager hands tugged your pyjamas and panties off, and he took a step back, eyes moving up and down your body.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. His lips met your neck and he gave you wet, little kisses along your breasts and stomach, not stopping until he got to that spot between your thighs. 

Stephen suddenly gave you a dark look. You locked eyes, the two of you almost staring each other down before Stephen finally gave you a cocky smirk. His tongue pushed out between his lips as he ran it right along your slit, right until he got to your clit. A soft moan fell from your lips, your back arching at the sudden feeling of pleasure. You brought a shaky hand down, dragging your fingers through Stephen’s locks.

“Stephen,” you whined out. “Mm, feels so good.”

You were being too loud. Your teeth bit into your bottom lip, trying to keep your sounds of pleasure muffled as Stephen kept playing with your clit. You had never felt anything so good. Your fingers gripped Stephen’s hair hard and tight, a fistful of hair in your grasp. Stephen wouldn’t stop. He just kept licking and sucking at you as you laid there, trying to keep your filthy sounds of pleasure to yourself.

But he managed to make it even better as he slid a long finger into you, curling it just right as he kept taking care of your clit. It was all too much for you. His lips, his finger. Another finger. He slipped one more into you, and then you found yourself clamping your free hand to your mouth to keep your scream low and muffled.

“Stephen!” you called out, the sound thankfully softened thanks to the palm of your hand up against your lips.

Stephen’s eyes met your half-opened ones and he smirked against your wet pussy. Then he carried on sucking and licking at you, his goatee tickling you with each second that passed. It just added to the pleasure. You were getting closer and closer. You could feel it. You were on the brink of your orgasm.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you whined to Stephen.

Stephen began to pump his fingers into you at an impossible speed once you said that. He wouldn’t stop. He just seemed so focused on giving you nothing but pleasure. You rocked your hips against his face, so desperate and eager to cum. His nose began to rub up against your sensitive bud, his tongue lapping at your pussy lips. You just couldn’t control yourself anymore. You came right then and there, crying out loudly behind your hand as the pleasure hit you. Stephen didn’t take his lips off of you, though. He kept licking and sucking at you, dragging out your orgasm and making it last as long as possible.

Panting wildly, you allowed yourself a few moments to calm down. Your pussy still felt so sensitive as you looked down at Stephen, his lips and goatee glistening with your pussy juices. He pulled his fingers from you and moved up your body, pressing his lips to yours. You could instantly taste yourself right there on his mouth. It was filthy but in the best way possible.

Shoving your tongue into Stephen’s mouth, the two of you laid there kissing one another hungrily. But Stephen suddenly pulled away and stood up. He smirked at you as you watched him pull his clothes off in a second flat. You gasped when you saw how big he was: thick and long and veiny. You wanted to feel him inside you badly.

Stephen got settled on his knees in front of you, keeping your legs spread before he grabbed his cock, pumping himself up and down. He gave you a long, deep kiss before resting his forehead against yours.

“I really wanna hear all those beautiful sounds you’ll make,” he said lowly, “but you gotta be quiet for me.”

You nodded. “I’ll be quiet.”

He kissed you again before pressing the swollen tip of his cock to your entrance. Slowly, he slid into you, and you already found yourself whining at the stretched out sensation he was giving you. He was just so big. He groaned above you, pushing into you more.

“You’re so big,” you said with a whisper. You had never felt anything so big and thick and perfect. “God, you feel so big inside me.”

“Fuck,” Stephen grumbled out. “You feel so fucking tight, warm and wet.”

He inched into you more and more until you had all of him, until you were stuffed with his cock. That was when he pulled out and began to pump himself back into you, stretching you out with his cock. You felt so full as he fucked you, your legs wrapping around him as he took you and fucked you and made you all his. In and out, in and out.

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” he muttered into your ear. “God, you feel so good. Does my cock feel good inside of you? Hm?”

You nodded, whining as you bit into your bottom lip. “So… So good. Please, you feel so good.”

“Mm, this is what you wanted, huh? You wanted my cock. You wanted it so fucking bad. You’re taking it so good, baby. You’re taking my cock like such a good girl. Look at you. Look at how good you look like this.”

You didn’t do it on purpose. It was just that Stephen’s cock felt so good stuffed inside of you and his filthy words were getting to you as well: the moan was ripped right out of you, the sound loud and shrill. Stephen’s hand was suddenly on your mouth, your eyes big as he carried on fucking you and filling you up.

“You gotta stay quiet for me,” he said. “I know it feels good. I know that little pussy wanted my cock so fucking bad, but you can’t keep moaning so loud. I know it’s hard. My cock feels so fucking good inside of you, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm!” you let out behind his hand.

He chuckled. “You take it so damn good. You’re taking every fucking inch. Look at that look in your eyes. I bet you’re so close for me again. Are you? Hm? Are you close?”

You were, and all you could do was nod in response as he slid in and out of you, his cock so thick as he took you. Your orgasm was seconds away. You could feel it. Stephen pulled out of you and pushed into you deep, the movements fast and wild, the sound of skin hitting skin in the air.

“I’m so close,” you said, your voice so soft and muffled. “Mm, I’m so—” It was all too much, and soon you found yourself losing control right there with his cock stuffed inside of you. Your orgasm hit you, taking over your whole body. Your skin felt hot and your toes curled as Stephen slammed in and out of you.

“There we go,” Stephen said with a chuckle.

You laid there panting for a good full minute until Stephen pulled his soaked cock out of you. He flipped you over so that you were on top, his hands moving from your waist to your hips to your ass, lifting you up before he lowered you back down onto his cock. A second later, he had filled you back up, stretching you out once again. Hands on his broad shoulders, you began to ride his cock wildly. Up and down, up and down. You took every inch of his cock as he groaned below you.

“That’s it,” Stephen muttered. “Just like that. Keep riding my cock.”

Your own moans were far too loud so you pressed your face right to his neck, hoping that would keep the sounds muffled. You couldn’t help it when you sucked at his soft skin, leaving behind little love bites as you bounced on his cock.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” said Stephen. “You feel so fucking good, Y/N. Fuck.”

There was a knock at the door suddenly. A loud one. It made you jump a little, your eyes widening as you stared down at Stephen.

“Shit,” he said, voice laced with panic. “Stop.”

You halted then and there, waiting to see Stephen’s next move.

Stephen cleared his throat. “Who’s there?” he asked, a fake, sleepy tone in his words. Like he had just woken up.

“It’s me,” America said from the other side of the door. “I was just wondering if you knew where Y/N was. I just woke up and can’t find her anywhere.”

“Uh,” Stephen said, that feigned, sleepy tone still there in his voice, “maybe she went for a walk or went back to Kamar Taj or something. I dunno.”

“Hmmm, okay then,” said America. “I’m going back to bed. Goodnight.”

You both stayed still with Stephen’s cock still buried deep inside of you. You waited to hear the sound of America’s door clicking shut, and with that, you lifted yourself up that little bit and worked yourself back down Stephen’s cock, eager to feel him again. You were moving fast and hard, your nails digging into Stephen’s shoulders as you took his cock. It was almost impossible to keep your moans to yourself as his thick cock stretched you out, and every now and then, a pleasure-filled moan would slip from your lips.

His swollen tip kept hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you. You were so close, and it seemed like Stephen could sense it.

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock for me again,” he said from below you. “Fucking do it. Just cum.”

You nodded, bouncing right there on his length, so eager to feel your third orgasm of the night. You rode him hard and fast, not stopping until that feeling of wild pleasure pooled all over your body. Stephen was fucking up into you, dragging out the feeling, letting your orgasm turn your body all hot and shaky.

He pounded into you from below with a groan. “I’m gonna cum,” he said.

“Mm, please cum inside me,” you whispered.

“Fuck, okay,” he said with gritted teeth.

One, two, three more thrusts, and then it was it for him. He pounded into you deep and hard, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he lost all control and emptied himself inside of you. Hot and sticky, his cum coated your inner walls and you shuddered at the feeling.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he let out with a pant.

For a little while, the two of you just stayed like that before Stephen reached forward, giving you a quick, sweet kiss. Then he gave your ass a tap, and you knew that was his way of telling you to lift yourself off of him. The second you did so, you felt his cum spilling right out of you. You laid against his chest, your own breathing heavy, but it was Stephen who got his back on track first.

You laid there in the bed as he got up and put some underwear on. Then he moved into the bathroom and came back with a warm cloth, letting it gently trace along your body and cleaning up the filthy mess he made. He threw it to the floor before sliding into bed with you, your head suddenly back on his chest. He kept his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you close to him. Eyes heavy, you were just about to let them shut and get lost in sleep.

“Y/N,” Stephen said softly.

You looked up at him, watching him smile at you. “Yeah?”

“You better get back to America’s room before she gets suspicious,” he said.

You had almost forgotten. “Oh, right.” You kissed him before you grabbed your hastily thrown pyjamas from the floor. “Goodnight, Stephen,” you said as you slowly moved towards the door.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said.

Being as quiet as you could, you slipped back into America’s room. You moved into her bathroom, cleaned yourself up that tiny bit more, and then put your pyjamas back on. Then you climbed back into bed and America almost made you jump when she spoke up.

“Where were you?” she asked in the darkness.

“Um… I just went for a walk,” you lied. “I couldn’t sleep. I just needed to clear my head, you know?”

“Oh, okay,” America said, voice sounding sleepy.

You were pretty tired yourself. Your eyes slowly shut and you couldn’t fight back the smile as you thought about what had just happened. What a night. Stephen’s touch had been so skilled, so perfect. Everything you had imagined. You just hoped that you’d get to do it again, and hopefully, the next time wouldn’t be so rushed. You also hoped America wouldn’t ever find out the truth.

[pix-writes]

I can hear your heartbeat

Vampire!Stanford Pines x F!Reader

Summary: Ford encounters a creature in the woods that bites him and he seems to be a little… strange. He can't seem to focus with his lab assistant around.

AO3

Words: 3.4K

Rating: Explicit (18+) | Warnings/tags: blood drinking, smut, mutual pining, possessive!ford, mildly dub con (because of circumstances, if you squint?), passing out/fainting, blood and vampire kink (ofc), no use of y/n | A/N: Here's my vampire ford fic, happy halloween!

He knows that you know something’s not quite right. He pauses in his journal entry as he risks a glance in your direction.

He knows that you know something’s not quite right. He pauses in his journal entry as he risks a glance in your direction. You were focused, head bent over your work, leaving him the sight of your curved neck. Sensing that you are being observed, you look up across the lab and meet his eyes.

He can almost fancy that he can hear your heartbeat change as he resumes writing, the steady thump-thump rising to a faster tempo. He can feel your stare as he looks down at his page… now, your heart’s rhythm goes back to resting. Ford has always felt a comfort in your presence, now it seemed to be permeating the whole house… warm, inviting. It’s become a distraction.

He needed to recall in detail what he had observed of his latest creature sighting, he crosses out his last line, realising that he had actually written about you in his distracted state. He just needed to convince you that he was fine, so he could continue to observe the effects, he had most of an antidote ready once he had recorded what he needed.

It had all started a few days ago, you had been at an out of town harvest fair. You had tried to persuade Ford to take a step out of the lab for once, though he declined. It was the perfect evening to study the nocturnal fungi species he had been observing in the forest.

Suddenly, out of nowhere he had been chased, heard the beating of leathery, wide wings of a bat-like creature. It had pursued him for half of the journey and despite his frantic attempts to shake him off, the creature had been able to sink his claws into him and left a bite before he managed to get some good punches in, rolling off of a verge down into thicket. The vampiric creature flew off at that point, whether it was the forest terrain or the fighting that had deterred it from following him home from there, he didn’t know for certain.

You had found him, of course you had. He had lost so much time, that by the time he had gotten over the threshold, his strength had weakened, he’d dragged himself into the kitchen by the time you pulled up in your car. He could imagine now, how disturbing it must’ve been to see the house and him in such a state on your return. However, he didn’t catch it at the time, your determined mind a useful asset times of emergencies, patching him up. He had felt proud in that moment, despite his position, your attributes were perfect qualities in an assistant. Even if he had to endure a mild reprimand to lone working from you after the fact, he congratulated himself that he had found someone up to the tasks that his research would need.

You had insisted that he see a doctor, just in case, maybe the creature could’ve carried rabies. As the days wore on, though, he knew you weren’t satisfied with his explanations. You hadn’t said anything, but from your breathing, how your eyes widened, he sensed the slight fear. It was foolish of him, but Ford was only just realising your observant nature was not purely limited to study, but to people and your surroundings. Had you always been scrutinising him in this way before?

Ford felt a nagging guilt at the idea of withholding information from you, however, he didn’t want you to freak out. You could be mad at him later and once you saw his results, he was sure that you couldn’t be upset for long. After all, wasn’t it you he had caught reading those cheap, gothic romances a month into your acquaintance? It still amused him to find you at your desk during breaks reading them, irked that you had been interrupted. Sometimes he even found them on the shared counterspace in the lab and he had gleaned that vampires seemed to be a common denominator.

Part of him wished that Fiddleford was still here, having left you both for a long stay with family, although his good friend was more superstitious than either of you put together. Perhaps the house was too quiet without him? Though that didn’t seem right.

Working silently with someone who didn’t feel the need to converse (or play the banjo at odd hours) wouldn’t have bothered him before, in fact he liked how you weaved past one another in the lab when you were working on the same analysis, completely in tune. But something had shifted… his new state was testing his endurance, if only he had another distraction…

A hand waved in front of his face and he dropped his pen. “Earth to Ford!”

“Yes?”

“I’ve finished the first round of the experiment!” You grinned, beckoning him to follow you to your side of the lab. “I think it might need just a little adjustment with the amount of sample I used but…”

Absorbed in your own explanation, your elbow knocked over the tripod that held your analysis.

“Be careful!” 

“Shit, sorry I’ve got it!”

The crucible had broken, and you scrambled to pick it up and sliced one of your fingers in the process, letting out a hiss at the sting.

Ford had let in a breath at that moment. Big mistake. His senses had been flooded with the delicious scent of your blood. He dug his fingers into the flesh of his arm to centre himself.

He could feel saliva flood into his mouth, the soreness in his canines and tried to swallow. His vision became tunnelled, focused now on the scents of the room. He could hear his own heartbeat, fast and erratic in his ears. Not now!

“Clumsy me, stay back, I don’t want you to get acid on you!” You hadn’t picked up on anything strange about him as he moved back. Your voice sounding far away.

After sweeping up the broken pieces into the waste bucket, instinct made you go to put your bleeding finger into your mouth. Ford caught your arm harshly. 

“Don’t do that!” You looked at him quizzically. Ford could sense the fluctuations in your heartbeat. When you breathed in, the muscles in your neck, your jugular, became more prominent at this angle. Fuck. “It’s not hygienic.” 

“It’s like a papercut, Ford.” The thump, thump, thump became steady again.

“Here.” Quickly handing you a tissue to stem the flow, he opened the packaging on a band-aid.

You noticed the clench to his jaw. “I’m fine, you know, I can patch myself up.”

But he continued without saying anything, securely wrapping your finger, the tension remaining.

Ford was packing items back into the first aid kit when he suddenly stumbled, holding onto the counter so he didn’t fall. “Hey! Ford, you alright?”

“Ah, fine, I- um…”

You frowned. “I really think you need to go to see a doctor; this isn’t right.” Before he could stop you, your hands were cupping his face, checking him over. The heat of your hands felt like fire on his skin. “Your wound looks worse. And you’re freezing!”

“Maybe you’re right. I’ll go in the morning, first thing, don’t worry.” 

Ford told you to continue with what you were doing, and you relented under assurances that he’d take care of himself. He saw the disappointment in your eyes as he brushed you off. It took all of his will to not grab hold of you right then and there, wanting to sink into your touch and your care. You and Fidds were always clucking round him like mother hens. He felt so tired, his mind wanted him to give into it, but he pushed himself up the stairs, feeling with each step that haze that had almost overpowered him dissipate.

He let out a groan of relief once he closed his bedroom door. His skin felt like it was in a cold sweat. He dragged a hand through his hair and pulled at the roots to sharpen his focus. He couldn’t keep this up much longer, he needed to feed. Later, he told himself. Later.

Slipping out of your shoes, you navigated the quiet hallways of the shack, your home away from home, with care.

Ever since he had the encounter with that giant bat creature in the woods, he hasn’t been the same, perhaps anyone else would not notice the slight changes in his patterns, since he was one to neglect himself and bury himself in work on a daily basis, but you knew better. You had become determined to figure it out, once and for all.

He was too stubborn for his own good, something you clashed on at times, and so you hadn’t pushed him too much to seek medical attention, knowing there was a fine balance in how much you could say to Ford as his assistant. You had your suspicions of what was happening, but even then, it seemed absurd; you had seen some strange things happen in Gravity Falls, but could that really be real?

Just in case. Just for my peace of mind, you reassured yourself as you pulled the journal out of the pile of notes on Ford’s desk, flipping through sections to skip to the last entries. There must be something in here that can give you a clue to how to help him…

There was always a dim light in the lab, a faint bluish glow from the machinery that Fiddleford was working on. Sneaking around like this felt illicit and you knew that Stanford wouldn’t take kindly to you going through his work without permission. Turning on the desk lamp felt like it would dispel the stillness of the empty place and so you strained your eyes to read on in the light already provided.

A creak sounded from behind you, sending a jolt of panic to your gut.

“You shouldn’t be down here. It’s late.” The light backlit the figure’s silhouette as they stepped out from the doorframe, the tone unreadable. 

“S-Stanford!” You retreated from the desk. “You startled me. I was just-”

“-Sneaking around in the dark?” As he stepped forward, turning on one of the lamps, the warm lighting disrupting the angle of the shadows.

“Look, I apologise if I have crossed a line but,” You paused in your answer, noticing behind him in the storage room, where discarded cups had rolled across the table, leaving trails of blood. “I want to know what’s going on.”

“And what will you do with the answer?” The reply made you grit your teeth, hands balling up into fists. You felt awash with adrenaline. How dare he ask you such a thing! Did he think after all this time you’d do anything against him?

Without even thinking of it consciously, Ford had been stalking towards you as you had been backing away and you bumped into the counter behind you.

“I just want to help you, Ford!” You didn’t mean for it to come out sounding indignant. It was almost a whine as Ford practically pinned you to the spot, gripping the counter either side of you. Your breath hitched at how close he was.

"I can hear your heartbeat." Ford’s eyes were dark as ink as he met your gaze. You shivered. “It's beating pretty fast.”

“Ford,” You let out a nervous laugh. “C'mon you're messing with me.”

“Seems to happen every time I get close to you. Do I make you nervous?”

“N-no I, nhg!” Your reply is cut off as Ford leans down to place a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist. The touch tickles your skin, making you flush with pleasure at the intimate sensation.

“Couldn’t stop yourself, could you?” It seemed like he was murmuring to himself, nuzzling his head into your hand and you catch a glimpse of pearly, sharp canines. “You want to help me? Because I don’t think I can stop myself right now.”

Even as alarm bells flood your mind at the situation, you didn’t stop him, didn’t pull away from his touch. Instead you gently pushed your thumb across his lips, inspecting the fangs, another shot of fear coursing through you. Stunned, you watched as Ford pressed a kiss to your wrist, opened his jaw and bit into your flesh in a supernaturally fluid motion.

The scream that escaped your mouth became stuck in your throat as the pain seared through you. It felt as though his fangs had hit bone.

The muscles in your body locked up. Heart thudding against your own chest, tears flowing unbidden from your eyes. You whimpered as Ford’s mouth felt tight around your now-open wound, free hand striking out at the table for support.

The stabbing pain suddenly subsided, leaving in its wake a pleasure that made you feel like you were on the drunk side of tipsy. It thrummed through your body, down between your legs.

You moaned, unable to look away from the sight of Ford, eyes glazed over as he took what he wanted from you.

Why had he resisted for so long?

The animal blood he had been gorging himself on just a moment ago, faded away in comparison to human blood. The salty taste of your skin giving him a complete contrast to the sweetness of your blood that was as blissful as it was hard to describe.

He felt every throb of your heart as he fed from you uncoiling his self-control, the shame in his gut from hurting you mixing with the lust he had pushed down for far too long. It wasn’t until your fingers carded through the side of his hair that a flash of clarity came over him and he loosened his grip on your arm. Soothing the bite with his tongue.

“Fuck, you taste incredible.” He growled.

This had to be some kind of dream of yours, some fantasy come to life as you stared blearily into the hungry look of the man in front of you. Now it was your turn to pull him in, pressing your lips to his, the metallic taste of your own blood on his tongue.

"I need to taste more of you." His touch roamed over you, fingers dipping under your clothes before he paused. "Can I?"

"Yes, god, yes.” You didn't have to wait long, helping him to push off your pants, flinging them to the side by the time his mouth was on you. Lips trailing across your inner thigh. If your head wasn’t swimming with desire, you would have felt a little embarrassed at how wet you had become since the researcher had fed from your wrist.

But Ford wasted no time, mouth warm and insistent, humming as you moaned, the vibrations making you tip your head back.

Though, you could tell his movements were careful, and you wondered whether he hesitated from not wanting to hurt you or from inexperience.

“Ford, please." Taking hold of his hand on your hip, you guided him. 

“Yes, yes! Like that.” He was a quick learner, slipping his fingers into your wet pussy, relieving the ache you had felt. 

Ford’s little pleased noises from your praise was setting you alight. His tongue glided through your folds, flicking up to your clit, his prominent nose adding extra stimulation as he ate you out.

“So good.” Your fingers once again ran through his hair, this time gripping as you reached your climax, whimpering as Ford lapped at your sensitive skin, savouring the taste of you.

There was a moment where you both caught your breath.

“Wow! That was amazing.” Ford looked dishevelled, a rare sight for you as he was usually so composed. Even when you had both been running from danger, he didn’t look like… this.

His face wasn’t the only part of him that was flushed, the ruddy colour dusted over the tips of his ears and over his chest. Tiny specks of blood littered his white shirt like freckles. Further down you could see the straining bulge in his pants, untouched. His pupils were blown, raking over you from head to toe in a way that made you feel conscious that you must also look a wreck. He felt warmer to the touch now and you filed that thought away for later analysis. That’s when you noticed that he wasn’t nearly as undressed as you are. That seemed unfair.

He said your name. “-I… It was, remarkable! But I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- are you, oh!”

Ford ceased to remember what he was trying to say as you kissed him, fingers quickly unbuttoning his shirt.

He helped you to push up onto the counter, shrugging his shirt off as he went, pulling more off of you as you nibbled at his ear and down his jawline.

“I need you.” Your touch went to his waist and he paused to unbuckle his pants. God, he had already left a wet spot on his boxers and you gasped into his mouth as you felt him. He was thicker than you had ever had before.

Ford leant onto the desk, gently pushing you backwards as he took up the space between your thighs. He pushed his cock against your slick folds, teasing you for a moment with the tip to watch you buck into his touch before he pushed himself all the way in. A guttural moan escaping from him as your pussy clenched around him.

His hands spread over the warm skin of your torso, pushing up your sweater which you discarded.

“Doing so well for me.” He rolled your nipples between his fingers as he continued his slow pace. You begged for him to use his mouth and when he did, it felt incredible, the barest hint of fangs along soft skin as he sucked at your tits. “Perfect.”

You whined, loud, clenching around his cock.

Ford let out a soft noise. It was familiar to you, like when he found something unexpected within his research, or you did something he found surprising. “You like that?” 

The smirk that was starting to form on his face was devastating. He could hear as your heartbeat thrummed once more into the rhythm that thrilled him, continuing to praise you.

“So perfect… So beautiful… Feel so good.”

But his newfound confidence started to crack as he started to get close, his grunts and groans becoming louder and more drawn out, lost in the feeling as you blissfully moved to a faster pace. Tugging at his hair once more to watch him keen.  

When two of Fords thick fingers reached down to circle your clit, you faltered.

“Please, please cum. Please, honey. N-need to, ah, need to feel it!”

Ford bit down just above your clavicle, brow resting against your shoulder as he devoured you once again. Your eyes were starting to roll back as you held onto his broad shoulders, nails digging into soft flesh, hearing him groan in response. Tightening around his cock, each thrust of his hips hitting that delicious spot within you. Tipping right on the edge, you didn’t want this to end, trembling as you felt Ford drag his tongue over the new bite.

“So beautiful and mine. All mine.” He groaned, looking at you slack jawed, chin shiny with spit and cum. “Mine.”  

The words went straight to your core and you came, back arching as you let the waves crash through you, bringing Ford over the edge by the rocking your hips. He held you close as you rode it out together, murmuring softly.

Although you had no idea what he said, head feeling fuzzy as he released you. You caught your breath and slid off of the counter, but your legs felt unsteady.

Ford called your name. “You alright?”

You wanted to reassure him, but you felt dead on your feet, head slumping against his chest.

He cursed under his breath. “Ah, I-I’m sorry! Sorry, there,” Ford quickly scooped you up, over his shoulder. “I’ve got you, darling.”

Post fic A/N: I had Ford as the narrator for most of it, cause I thought it was an interesting perspective, because even in his thoughts he's in denial ^^' so he's a little unrealiable on what his feelings to the reader are, so I thought people would be able to fill in the gaps where its obviously been a mutual pining situation! (disrupted by vampirism hahaha)