#fear.. worry.. shiver.
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My brother bothered me enough to get me to send him $20 to chip in for a “surprise treat” for us to share. He won’t tell me what it is other than 1) it’s something you can eat 2) it’s sweet 3) He thinks I will hate it, but not because it’s gross.
#there is a pretty limited number of things it could be cause I don’t eat animal products and he says that I can have it#whatever it is he’s ordering it online so I don’t think it’s like. a cake.#the real mystery is trying to think of a reason I would ‘hate’ something if it wasn’t gross#I’m not picky when it comes to sweet stuff#I hope I didn’t just waste $20#fear.. worry.. shiver.
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Day 1. Monster-kinktober: Marking the territory + Cockring-plugs/Massaging
Werewolf x fem!reader || marking, breeding, cock-ring, dirty talk (low key) || tw: pregnancy talk
When he told you he was about to go into rut, you were worried about babies, neither of you didn’t have an accidental pregnancy but you were both pretty into breeding, especially when he was that close to going feral because of his werewolf hormones. So you called in a few favors and got a witch to enchant a cock-ring. At first you were skeptical, so that’s why he was trying it today as you went to work.
You spent about fifteen minutes that morning massaging his knot until it was fully set in your hand so you could slip the cock-ring on him. It was supposed to keep him in that state for a long time and made it impossible for him to come. He was pretty cocky about it in the morning, as you massaged him, he kept telling you how there was no way that ring could fit around his big knot. How your pussy felt a lot nicer than your hand around his knot. How pretty you would look when it broke and you’d be left full of cum. How pretty you’d be full of his pups before the month ended. (And not gonna lie, that made you a little more than horny).
But you didn’t let him get away with it, massaging his balls until he was shooting his come all over your tits and his face was contorted with pleasure. You slipped the ring on before he could process it, and his cum instantly stopped. You giggled as he gave you the stink eye, trying to catch you but failing as you ran out the room to get dressed. You called over your shoulder and told him to be good for a couple hours...
And that’s why you come home to find him in your bed, rubbing his massive erection against the sheets, unable to come. He looked as pathetic as ever, whimpering and groaning your name, face buried in your pillow. He was so gone in his pleasure that he didn’t even realize you were there until you spoke.
���Hell-” But you didn’t have time to finish the word before he was turning around, eyes bloodshot and fangs bared. He looked feral, and a spike of fear bloomed inside of you. He looked at you for a total of two milliseconds before he was jumping from the bed and into your personal space.
He knocked you off and tore your clothes off in the same movement. You were expecting him to be desperate when you came back, but you weren’t expecting him to be like that, to be so desperate. And then it clicked. He went into heat. He went into heat when you weren’t there and his knot was unable to go down or release. You practically condemned him to werewolf sex-torture, and he had to endure it for two hours. Poor baby.
His claws were out and he was trying to get your panties off, but ended up tearing them, too. “Slow down…” You told him, pulling at his hair and making him bare his fangs at you.
“No,” he growled.
You laughed for a total of half a second before he was pushing his dick inside of you, his knot unable to slip inside because of how big it was. He kept grinding and fucking into you, growling like a madman because he couldn’t come. You shivered and screamed his name. You were on edge all day, wet thinking about him at home, alone and hard… And now you were stuffed full of werewolf dick and you couldn’t even focus on words anymore.
“Mine,” he growled. He started a frantic rhythm, your body moving on the floor as he thrust inside of you.
“Yours. Yours. Yours,” you chanted. He was being so rough and careless, his nails digging into your hips and his fangs so close to your neck that you knew you will end the night with a huge bite-mark there. That would be hard to cover, but at that moment, with his knot pressing against your clit and his dick hitting your G-spot you couldn’t care less.
“I’m going to mark you. I’m going to come so deep inside of you that you will be feeling me for days.” He punctuated each word with a thrust of his dick, his knot still outside your body. You were dripping, but it was not enough… not yet. “I’m going to fill you so much you are going to be full of pups by the end of it,” he continued. You knew that couldn’t be as long as he had the ring on, but the thought made you shiver and let out a big groan.
He kept thrusting until you came once, twice… and by the time your third orgasm was almost sneaking on you, you felt his fangs sink in your neck at the same time you felt something release and his knot slipped inside. You cried out in ecstasy when his knot filled you completely and he started to come in you.
You opened your eyes widely as you felt his release inside, unable to move or do anything apart from groaning at the indescribable pleasure running through your body. It felt better than heaven, and your brain was too fucked out to process whatever just happened when you were so full of hot werewolf knot.
“Did it break?” You asked as your orgasm receded. Your breath was labored as he kept coming inside of you, his knot pressing against your sweet spot. “Did the cock-ring break? I’m going to kill that witch,” you said as you felt the next shoot inside of you. There was so much of it that you could feel it slipping around his knot, making a mess out of you.
“Told you it wouldn’t work,” he gloated with the biggest smirk on his face, kissing your nose.
“Ugh, I hate your inhuman dick,” you grumbled. You wanted to be annoyed, but his dick was pressing against your G-spot and he was being so fucking cute you couldn’t even be mad about it.
“Liar,” he groaned as you felt another shoot of his cum inside of you. That felt so fucking good your eyes rolled back into your head. “You are going to be so full… Everyone is going to know you are mine,” he mumbled half asleep as he kept rocking his hips slowly. You tried to worry, but the pleasure was so great you didn’t care.
He was in heat, and that meant you would be stuffed and fucked for the next three days at least… you would enjoy the ride. Whatever happened would be future you problem.
#werewolf#werewolf x you#werewolf x reader#werewolf x human#monstertober#kinktober#monsterkinktober#monster#monster fucker#monster imagine#monster x human#teratophillia#terato#monster x reader#monster boyfriend#monster fuqqer#monster kink#monster love#monster lover#monster romance#monster smut#monster x you#monsterfucker#monsterfucking nsft
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needy ☆ ( prohero!katsuki x fem!reader ) mdni | 18+ — katsuki's kink is probably you asking for it; katsuki has a filthy mouth im sorryyy 1.7k
You're usually not the first to initiate this. Sex. Katsuki doesn't worry about failing to get what he wants, not like how you are right now. He's vociferous — "Can I fuck you, baby?" and you'd melt against him so easily because you fell for Bakugou Katsuki for that reason.
You can't do that. You don't know how to approach him with the same effortlessness and not get swallowed up whole by the urge to flee before you can even get a word out. It's not for the fear of rejection but for how bare you'd be asking for it. Sex.
Katsuki, of course, notices your restlessness for the entire evening. He doesn't say anything about it at first, not even while you eat together and you can't seem to meet him in the eyes, or how you don't join him in the shower unlike always, or even how you sit on the edge of the bed like there's steam blowing out your ears.
"Spit it out," Katsuki says, his back pressed against the headboard. "Look at me."
You clutch at your chest, bringing attention to the unsteady thumping of your heartbeat. You rip your gaze off the floor and instead gravitate to Katsuki's biceps bulging from the press against his chest.
You swallow a pathetic noise, reminded of what exactly you've been needing from your boyfriend.
You tear your eyes away from his arms and meet an arched, pale eyebrow. Assessing. How is this so hard? You can't even bring yourself to choke out a "pleasefuckme" because Katsuki makes you feel like some freshman asking for some hand-holding in the hallway.
It's embarrassing to be years in a relationship with Katsuki, but you're so attracted to him that asking to be fucked feels the same as asking him out.
It's Katsuki's expression that cracks the fragile atmosphere. He has his brows pinched in a crease that wrinkles his forehead. His face doesn't betray anything else, but you're well-versed in Katsuki to understand that he is just as nervous as you are. Anxious.
"It's nothing bad," you assure him, guilt aching in your chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you."
Katsuki eases just an inch. He clicks his tongue and looks away. "Could've sworn otherwise."
As terrible as that sounds, how Katsuki is just as affected as you are invertedly calms you down. Whatever happens, you know Katsuki will be honest with you.
Clinging onto the last shred of your dignity, you crawl over pillows and settle on Katsuki's lap. Hovering.
His confusion overtakes his worry, hands instinctively reaching out to your waist. "What—"
"Katsuki," you begin, and his breathing halts in anticipation. Tentatively, barely there, you roll your hips over his, fluttering in delight when his cock swells with growing interest, and you can feel it, right there, separated by layers—
"Fuck," he hisses through his teeth, heated hands moving to your ass. "You..."
"Please," it tumbles out your mouth so nicely. "I've been thinking about it a lot lately." Shame burns on your cheeks, watching as his dick stirs. Intrigued. "And you haven't been — giving it. Lately."
"That what it is?" he asks quietly, almost in disbelief. "Needed me to fill you up?"
There's no better way to say it.
When you look up from where you two meet, Katsuki's pupils have dilated so wide that there's barely a trace of red. It speaks of a promise: I'll give it to you. Air closes around your throat, thighs twitching. He feels it, too.
"Been hurtin', weren't you?" he says, sounding untamed as he breathes it over your ear, inciting a full-body shiver. "Been needin' it bad? M'sorry. Didn't mean to neglect you, sweetheart."
"Katsuki," you gasp brokenly.
"Mm." He kisses your jaw, sucks on it, hands catching on the drawstring of your sweatpants, pulls on it. You lift your thighs. Soon enough, you're fully bare waist-down. "So fuckin' hot, asking for me to fuck you like that. Shit, I'm gonna be dreamin' about that for months."
He proves his interest by grinding up your thigh. You whine, feeling it from the back of your throat. You need him so badly. You barely notice that you're still rubbing yourself against him until there's a wet patch over his sweatpants.
"Hold still, sweetheart."
Katsuki dips a finger where you're unsurprisingly wet. He rubs where he knows you're sensitive the most, the slick of your arousal making the friction so good. Your back arches and Katsuki's cooing, coaxing each noise out with his fingers and the filth from his mouth.
"You're already wet," he says, pupils as dark as his voice.
"Don't tease," you manage to choke out, gripping the front of his shirt. "I already — ah — prepped myself. I needed you to fuck me last week."
Katsuki stills, his eyes flicking from your cunt to your needy expression, then curses under his breath.
"Fuck, fuck," he says. "Fuck you. You have no idea how hard it'll be to go out on patrol when I'm thinkin' about you talkin' dirty like that."
Embarrassment floods your entire body. "Don't say it like that, asshole. And focus on your patrol! Don't let your dick distract you from the villains!"
Katsuki shuts you up by sliding the roughness of his palm over your heat, pulling a whimper that makes him grin. "They're the distraction. Never you. Thinkin' about you all the time — this, all the time."
"Pervert," you say, but you're moving your hips along his hand.
Katsuki laughs once, pulling you off his hips, only for him to pull his sweatpants down by his knees. "Who was the one beggin' for it?"
You can't bring yourself to think of something witty. The sight of him hard in front of you has you robbed of incoherent thought.
Katsuki knows it. He's seen that look on your face time and time again — know only he can do that to you. "Let me make it up to you, yeah? Let me fill you up the way you'd been cravin'."
He's so embarrassing with that mouth. It's a wonder why you're whining louder, getting wetter.
"You want it," Katsuki says, leaning back against the headboard. "Baby, you wanted this, didn't you? Take what you want from me."
You may be the one on top of him, but you've never felt all the more embarrassed, giving him a full view of how wet you are for him just by thinking about it. It drips. Yet you find yourself too needy to complain, not wanting to waste the opportunity he's giving.
"Okay," you say, lifting your hips up enough for him to watch yourself lining up above him.
And does he watch, eyes wild. You may be the one to initiate this, but he's the one looking desperate for it. Like he can't bring himself to wait a second longer before burying himself in you. He's big. You might've stretched yourself open, yet it'd take a while for you to accommodate his size again after days without it. So you only take him in inch by inch, impressed by how Katsuki screws his eyes shut, keeping himself from moving.
"Fuck," you both say in tandem.
You shudder, feeling so full in a way you've been itching for. You can barely resist your eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel him twitch inside you. Katsuki's not fairing any better, fingers digging in your hips, some noise close to a whine by the back of his throat. The thought of him leaving marks when you've been so bare of it for too long has you clenching around him. He groans, unable to help himself from thrusting up. You share a gasp.
You tremble, feeling boneless and restless simultaneously. "Katsuki. Katsuki—”
You're not entirely sure what you're trying to say, only that Katsuki understands.
"I know," he says, sounding just as winded. "Wanted it, too, you don't even know."
At his muttering, you find yourself fucking against him, chasing the pleasure his words are giving you. You missed this badly. Nights when he had evening patrol and you were achingly empty were the worst; you couldn't complain, but you've wanted to hide Katsuki from the world and keep him to you for too long. Your wrists ache at the reminder — they were never as good as this.
Your answering moan is loud in your mouth, hips gaining speed. He reaches far deeper than you can even try. He knows it.
"Yeah? Your fingers not enough, ain't it?" Katsuki says, rolling his hips up when you slam down, gaze hot as you tremble above him. "Look at you, baby. So wet and hot. You're making a mess. Needed it that bad?"
"Yes. Please, please," you can only say. You feel yourself losing strength as your climax slowly reaches for you.
"Fuck," he exhales, and thankfully uses those years of upper body strength training to help you ride him — where it nearly feels as if you're barely exerting any effort. Sweat trails down his jaw, his eyes ravaging the sight of you swallowing him up every thrust. "You — needed me to fill you up like this, huh?"
"Katsuki, I—” You want to look away, shame filling your insides. It's unfair that Katsuki is so attractive that just looking at him makes you surrender so easily. "I think I'm close. Katsuki, I can't—"
"Hah," Katsuki twitches, breath seizing. "Yeah? You gonna give it t'me, baby? Come on. Know you can. Show me how good I make you feel."
Tears well up in your eyes. This position has him reaching so deep inside that after this, you know you'll miss how you can feel him in there, like he's branding himself in your body, staking a claim where no one else can see. But they'd know. On the bruises on your hips, the marks all over your neck, how you're chanting Katsuki's name and—
Katsuki kisses you deeply when you spill, his own release following along like just seeing you gets him every time. You moan fully in his mouth, always surrendering.
"Thank you," you sigh against him.
Katsuki snorts, massaging shapes into the sides of your hips. "You know I'll always want it more than you. Don't gotta thank me for that."
#ᥫ�� dekuneho#&katsuki#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha#bnha smut#bakugou katsuki smut#bakugo smut
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KINKTOBER #2– THE HAUNTED MANOR / theodore nott
october 3rd toys , voyeurism , humiliation , bondage
theodore nott x fem reader
summary: you have some… interesting experiences with theo when you and your friends decide to spend the night in an old haunted manor
warnings: toys (use of dildo and vibrator), unprotected piv, bondage, humiliation, 18+ content
words: 5.1k
a/n: sorry this was posted so late :(
navigation kinktober masterlist
The crisp October night wrapped itself around you like a cold embrace, the wind whispering through the overgrown vines that clung to the rusted iron gates before you. The abandoned manor loomed in the distance, a decaying relic of the past, its towering silhouette dominating the sprawling grounds.
"Are we seriously spending the night here?" Pansy's voice wavered between excitement and fear as she glanced at the foreboding mansion.
"Of course," Mattheo grinned, his usual cocky demeanor unfazed. "Nothing wrong with a little ghost hunting with friends."
Blaise snorted, smirking. "Yeah, unless we end up as ghosts ourselves."
"Relax, you nitwits. It's just an old house," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes as he pushed open the creaking iron gates.
You shivered, instinctively pulling your cloak tighter around your shoulders. "Theo, are you sure about this?" you asked softly, your gaze flickering to your boyfriend standing beside you. His sharp features were illuminated by the pale moonlight, his hair falling lazily over his eyes. He glanced at you, smirking as his hand slipped into yours, sending a wave of warmth through the chill.
"Don't tell me you're scared," he teased. "It's just an old house."
"You said it was haunted," you reminded him, trying and failing to keep the tremor out of your voice.
Theo's smirk widened. "Rumors. Superstitions. Nothing you need to worry about."
With a playful tug, he pulled you forward, leading you through the rusted gates that groaned ominously in the stillness. The gravel crunched beneath your feet as the two of you made your way toward the manor, its black silhouette growing more oppressive with every step. The air felt heavy—almost alive—with the weight of forgotten magic, or perhaps something far more sinister.
When you reached the massive oak doors, Theo paused, glancing at you over his shoulder with that same teasing grin. "Still want to go inside?"
Your heart hammered in your chest, the oppressive energy of the place thickening the air, but you wouldn't let him see your hesitation. You swallowed hard and nodded, determined not to back down now. Not in front of him.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice laced with approval.
With a forceful push, the doors groaned open, revealing the dark, decaying entrance hall. The air inside was colder than outside, thick with dust and the scent of mildew. Torn tapestries lined the walls, forgotten remnants of a grandeur long faded.
You groaned, glancing around in disbelief. "Remind me again why I agreed to this?" you muttered, frustration mingling with your mounting anxiety.
Theo led you deeper into the manor, his steps confident as if he'd been here a thousand times. The others followed behind, their footsteps echoing through the grand, dilapidated space. Cobwebs hung from every corner like old lace, and the weight of the silence was almost suffocating. Theo turned to you, extending his hand once more.
"So," he said with a grin, "what do you think? Spooky enough for you? Let me know if you need someone to hold your hand."
You shot him a glare, though the knot in your stomach betrayed your bravado. Your fingers brushed lightly against his. "Shut up. I told you, I'm not scared," you grumbled, though the darkened hallways told a different story.
Your heart thudded in your chest, the mix of fear and his teasing making your pulse quicken. “But I won't lie, there is something about being here that makes my skin crawl," you admitted, barely above a whisper, as you unconsciously inched toward him.
His arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you slightly closer. "I thought you weren't scared," he teased again, though his voice was softer now, almost amused. "Maybe you need a big, strong man to keep you safe after all."
Rolling your eyes, you elbowed him lightly. "I said shut up."
His lips curled into a gleeful smile, clearly enjoying your unease. "Lucky for you, love, I'm here to save the day." With your hand firmly in his, he led you further into the manor, the old floorboards creaking beneath your every step.
The shadows deepened as you ventured further inside, their long, jagged shapes seeming to reach for you. Theo's grip tightened on your hand, offering silent reassurance as the cold stone walls closed in. "We should stick together anyway," he mused, his tone lighter now. "Safety in numbers, right?"
Eventually, the two of you found yourselves in a grand sitting room, the large windows covered with tattered, moth-eaten curtains. Faded portraits lined the walls, their painted eyes tracking your every movement with unnerving accuracy. A cold, dead fireplace loomed at the far end, its once-mighty hearth now filled with lifeless ashes.
"Cozy," Theo smirked, wandering over to a dusty bookshelf. He trailed a finger along the spines of the old books, eyeing them curiously. "I bet there's some fascinating reading material in here."
You snorted, rolling your eyes as you playfully nudged him. "Only you would think about books in a place like this, nerd."
Before he could reply, a loud thump echoed from upstairs, causing both of you to jump. Theo's eyes widened momentarily before he composed himself with a chuckle.
"Probably just the others... or maybe the ghosts," he joked, his hand resting protectively on the small of your back.
With a shared look, the two of you headed back to the foyer, where your friends were gathered, lounging on worn furniture and discussing their next move.
"Well, well, looks like our little explorers found nothing but dust and cobwebs," Lorenzo called from his spot on an aged velvet sofa, a grin plastered on his face. "I say that’s enough sightseeing for now. We’ve got a whole night ahead of us. How about we liven things up with a game of Truth or Dare?"
Theo rolled his eyes. "Truth or Dare? Seriously, Enzo? What are you, fourteen?"
Mattheo chuckled, shrugging. "What else are we gonna do in a place like this?"
"Fine, fine," Theo said, throwing up his hands. "But I’m only playing if there’s alcohol involved." He turned to you with a wicked grin. "Since my lovely girlfriend is feeling so bold tonight, why don't you start us off? Truth or dare?"
You met his gaze, unwilling to back down from the challenge. "Dare," you replied, lifting your chin defiantly. "I'm not afraid of a little challenge.”
A slow grin spread across Theo's face. "Alright, I dare you..." He paused dramatically, letting the tension build. " ...to kiss me. Right here, in front of everyone.”
The collective groan from your friends was almost comical. "That's hardly a dare," you scoffed. "I mean, you are my boyfriend."
"Maybe I just wanted an excuse to kiss you," Theo shot back with a cheeky grin.
You rolled your eyes, but your annoyance couldn't hide the small smile tugging at your lips. "You're such a show-off.”
Without further hesitation, you stepped forward and kissed him deeply, your fingers threading through his hair as your lips moved together. You blocked out the catcalls and whistles from your friends, focused only on the warmth of Theo's body pressed against yours. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, and for a moment, the eerie manor and all its dangers faded away.
As you broke apart, breathless, Theo smirked, his forehead resting against yours. "Much better than I expected," he murmured, his tone filled with playful pride.
You blushed, looking away. "Shut up. You got what you wanted."
Theo's low chuckle vibrated against your skin as he nuzzled into your cheek. "Oh, I did indeed," he purred, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Now, who's next?"
Lorenzo's mischievous grin widened as he turned toward Mattheo, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Truth or Dare, Riddle. You're up."
Mattheo leaned back, stretching lazily before his dark eyes flickered toward Lorenzo. "Dare, of course. Give me something good."
The game spiraled from there, the room filling with laughter and mock indignation as truth after truth was spilled, and dare after dare was accepted with varying degrees of bravado. Lorenzo had Blaise sprinting across the room in his underwear, Pansy revealing a rather scandalous secret about her latest fling, and Mattheo howling in laughter after being dared to serenade one of the portraits on the wall.
It wasn't long, however, before the attention returned to you, and the smirk on Lorenzo's face sent a chill crawling down your spine. His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long before he spoke.
"Y/N," Lorenzo began, the edges of his grin sharp. "I dare you to go up and explore the attic."
The room fell into a heavy silence, all eyes suddenly on you. Your heart clenched, beating too fast as you turned to look at the darkened staircase leading up to the second floor. The attic? You had barely been able to stomach walking through the front doors, let alone venturing into the bowels of the ancient manor—alone.
"Go to the attic... alone?" you repeated, your voice sounding far smaller than you'd intended. The shadows seemed to press closer, thickening the air.
Theo's fingers tightened around your waist, his familiar warmth grounding you for just a moment. You could feel his smirk without needing to look. He loved this, loved teasing you, loved pushing you to your limits just to see how far you'd go. And you hated that it worked every single time.
"Too much for you, love?" he whispered, his breath hot against your neck. "Because I can always come with you." His voice dropped lower, becoming a rumbling hum that sent a shiver racing down your spine. "Just imagine—us, together, in the dark... how thrilling that could be."
Your mouth went dry as his words sent your imagination spinning. You could feel the others watching, waiting for your response, but all you could focus on was the heat of Theo's body against yours and the way his fingers trailed possessively down your arm.
Theo's grin widened as he nipped at your earlobe, voice dark with amusement. "What do you say, Y/N? Want me to hold your hand?"
You huffed, pushing away the growing tension. "Shut up," you muttered again, glaring at him in mock irritation, though the playful twinkle in your eyes betrayed the act.
His hand slid from your waist to your lower back, and he leaned closer, whispering, "If you're too scared to go, just say the word. No shame in admitting it."
Your breath caught as his words lingered between you, a challenge wrapped in seduction. You squared your shoulders, unwilling to let him win. You'd spent far too long playing this game with Theodore Nott, and you weren't about to back down now.
"Fine," you said, louder this time as you stepped away from him, brushing his hands off with a deliberate flourish. "But I'm not going alone." You shot him a pointed look. "You're coming with me."
Theo's smirk softened, the gleam of triumph in his eyes unmistakable. "Of course I am," he murmured.
Lorenzo groaned dramatically from his spot on the couch. "Oh, come on, that's cheating! She's supposed to go by herself."
Mattheo chuckled from the other side of the room, shaking his head. "Let them have their fun. At least one of us might get something out of this trip to hell."
Ignoring the banter, Theo wrapped an arm around your shoulders and steered you toward the staircase. The creaking of the old wood echoed through the hall as you ascended, each step a reminder of the isolation waiting above. The air grew colder, thicker, the musty scent of forgotten years clinging to every surface. The hallway stretched out before you, dimly lit by the moonlight filtering through the cracked windows.
Theo's grip on you tightened as you reached the attic door, its old wooden frame warped and splintered with age. He paused, his hand on the doorknob, glancing at you with a raised brow. "Ready for this, love?" His voice was soft, teasing, but there was something darker flickering in his gaze, something that made your stomach flip in anticipation.
You hesitated, the weight of the dare pressing down on you like the air in the old manor, thick and suffocating. But with Theo by your side, that familiar heat spreading through your veins, you nodded. "Yeah."
With a smirk, Theo twisted the knob and pushed the door open with a loud creak.
The attic yawned before you—dark, dust-choked, and thick with an eerie stillness that made your skin prickle. Cobwebs clung to the rafters, and the only sound was the faint rustle of wind outside, whispering through the cracks in the walls.
You took a tentative step inside, the floorboards groaning beneath your weight. Theo was right behind you, his presence a steadying force as you ventured further into the darkness. Your heartbeat thudded in your ears, each step sending a pulse of adrenaline through your veins.
There was a four-poster bed lying in the middle of the attic, as if the people who lived here all those years ago had used it as a bedroom.
Theo, ever the opportunist, moved closer, running a finger along the edge of the mattress.
"This place really does have a certain charm, doesn't it?" He turned to you, a wicked glint in his eye. "Almost romantic, don't you think?"
Before you could respond, he pulled you onto the bed beside him, the springs creaking under your combined weight. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you close as he nuzzled your neck.
“Romantic? That’s funny. You’re too horny for your own good, Theodore Nott.”
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he leaned in, lips grazing your ear. "Guilty as charged, love. But what can I say? You bring out the worst in me."
His hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your hips, slipping under your shirt to tease the sensitive skin of your lower back. His touch ignited sparks across your flesh, and you found yourself arching into him, craving more.
With a deft tug, he pulled your shirt off over your head, tossing it carelessly aside. His gaze raked over your exposed torso, lingering on the swell of your breasts tucked away beneath your bra before meeting your eyes with a smoldering intensity. "Beautiful," he breathed, voice husky with desire. "Absolutely stunning."
He pulled back for a moment, swiftly running a hand over his face. “I actually, um… found some pretty interesting things of yours the other day. In your dorm.”
Your eyes narrowed, cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and indignation. “What are you talking about?" you demanded, trying to keep your tone steady despite the sudden rush of heat coursing through your veins at the thought of Theo rummaging through your belongings.
Theo's smile widened, an amused glint dancing in his eyes as he reached into his messenger bag. He pulled out a small pink vibrator, waving it tauntingly before setting it on the bedside table. "This little number, for instance," he purred, leaning in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "I must say, it looks quite impressive."
Next, he produced a purple silicone dildo, holding it aloft like a trophy. "And then there's this... rather large toy you've got stashed away. Quite the collection you've got going on here, love." His gaze flicked back to your face, drinking in your reaction with a knowing smirk.
"How do these magic tricks work, hmm? Do they come with instructions, or are you an expert in carnal delights already?"
You felt your face flush even hotter at the sight of your most intimate belongings being waved around so casually. A surge of anger mixed with humiliation threatened to overwhelm you, but you forced yourself to maintain a facade of nonchalance.
"When did you even find those?” you murmured embarrassedly.
Theo's smirk deepened as he watched the play of emotions across your face—the blush staining your cheeks, the tension in your jaw, the defiant spark in your eyes. It was a delicious combination, one that stirred his blood and set his nerve endings alight with anticipation.
"Last week, when I stayed over at your dorm," he replied casually, as if discussing the weather. "I was looking for some cigs in your nightstand drawer while you were in the shower and well..." He shrugged, a picture of feigned innocence. "They just sort of jumped out at me.”
He traced a finger along the length of the dildo, humming thoughtfully before he moved closer, his fingers trailing up your thigh as he sat on the edge of the bed beside you. "Quite the naughty girl, aren't you, love?" He leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth.
As he kissed you deeply, Theo's hand slid higher, fingers brushing the waistline of your jeans, unbuttoning them before dipping underneath to caress the smooth skin of your inner thigh. His touch was electric, sending shivers racing up your spine as he teased the sensitive flesh mere inches from your core.
"So, tell me, baby," he murmured against your lips, breaking the kiss to trail his mouth along your jawline, nipping at the tender skin beneath your ear. "You prefer this—" He held up the dildo, wiggling it suggestively, “—fake cock when you have the real thing right here, always ready and willing?"
His fingers continued their maddening exploration, inching closer to the heat of your center with each passing second. His thumb rubbed against your clit through the thin barrier of your underwear, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as he continued to tease you.
"I mean, they're cute and all, but nothing compares to the feel of my cock buried deep inside you, does it?" He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered. He gestured to himself, his meaning clear. One hand drifted down to palm the bulge straining against his trousers, a silent invitation, a promise of pleasure.
"Is my girl really that impatient, hm?" he mused, a teasing lilt to his voice. "That she can't just wait for her boyfriend to come and fuck her senseless whenever she needs it?"
His fingers slipped beneath the waistline of your pants once again, teasing along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Your breathing hitched as his touch grew bolder, fingertips brushing against your clothed sex with feather-light strokes. The ache between your legs intensified, your panties dampening with each passing second.
He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating through you like a physical caress. "Using these cheap substitutes instead of demanding what she really wants. Why don’t you give me a little demonstration?"
His hand cupped your mound possessively, applying pressure that made you squirm.
You gasped sharply as Theo's fingers pressed against your aching sex, the contact sending shivers racing down your spine. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more friction, more relief from the throbbing need building within you.
“It’s not like that…” you mumbled. “Just… please…”
"Please what?" Theo arched a brow, a mocking tilt to his lips. "You think you deserve real dick right now after keeping secrets from me? After using toys behind my back like some desperate slut?"
He withdrew his hand abruptly, leaving you aching and empty. Rising from the bed, he stepped back, folding his arms across his chest as he leveled you with a stern look. "Strip. Now. Let's see how much of a show you can put on for me."
Theo's gaze raked over your body, his eyes lingering on the swell of your breasts, the curve of your hips. He licked his lips slowly, deliberately, a predatory gleam in his eye. "Come on, baby. Don’t get shy now. Show me what you've been hiding."
You kicked off your shoes, and as you unclasped your bra, he drank in the sight of your full breasts, nipples pebbling under his heated gaze. Lower still, past the dip of your waist and flare of your hips, until your jeans pooled at your feet, leaving you clad in only a scrap of lace.
“Fuck, look at you," he growled appreciatively, palming the growing hardness in his trousers. "Such a pretty little thing, aren't you? All mine to play with."
He relaxed back on a nearby armchair. "Now then, why don't you show me exactly what these toys of yours can do?"
Theo lounged back in the chair, his eyes never leaving you as you stood there trembling, exposed and vulnerable. A wicked grin spread across his face as he watched you with hooded eyes. “Go on then, sweetheart. Show me how you like to be fucked. Pretend I'm not even here."
As you grasped the dildo, he panted softly, drinking in the sight of your hand wrapped around the smooth plastic. He reached down to adjust his bulge, the fabric of his pants bunching obscenely as he watched you remove your panties.
You leaned back, spreading your legs wide in a lewd display, but you didn’t know what to do with the toy in your hand. Not when he was right in front of you.
A cruel smile played about his lips as he saw the hesitation in your eyes, the reluctance in your movements. "What's wrong, love? Suddenly shy? You weren't shy when you were fucking yourself silly with these, were you?"
With trembling hands, you brought the toy to your lips, flicking your tongue out, tracing the contours, coating it in saliva. Then, you trailed it lower, over your collarbone, between the valley of your breasts. You circled a nipple with the toy's tip, gasping at the sensation.
"There we go. Now, move it down and start rubbing it against your clit. Nice and slow. I want to see you squirm."
He reclined further into the chair, making no move to join you, simply observing your every move with an air of dark amusement.
You whimpered, feeling exposed and humiliated as you followed Theo's instructions. Your cheeks burned with shame as you brought the dildo to your aching sex, rubbing the slick head against your swollen clit.
You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood, fighting back tears of mortification. But beneath the embarrassment, a spark of arousal ignited, fueled by the knowledge that he was watching you so intently.
Your hips began to rock instinctively, the toy gliding through your wet folds, stroking places that made you shudder and moan quietly. You couldn't meet his gaze, too ashamed to see the smug satisfaction in his eyes.
"That’s my girl… Now, put it inside you where it belongs. Fill up that greedy little cunt.”
With a shaky breath, you aligned the dildo with your entrance, pushing it in gradually. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, and you cried out at the feeling. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you forced yourself to relax, letting the toy sink deeper.
"Fuck, look at you taking it like a good little slut," Theo drawled, leaning forward in his chair to get a better view. He reached down to stroke himself lazily, his thumb rubbing circles over the straining bulge in his trousers.
Reaching for the smaller vibrator on the bed beside you, he tossed it onto the sheets. "Pick it up. I want to hear you scream as you cum all over both of them. Show me how well you can multitask."
Your hands shook as you fumbled for the small device, turning it on with a buzzing whine. You positioned it against your clit, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure through your core. Your hips rolled faster, the dildo thrusting in and out of your stretched hole in rhythm with the toy's relentless stimulation.
“Come on. Make yourself cum while I watch you rut on that toy like a bitch in heat. I want to hear you moaning like the desperate whore you are.”
Theo's eyes gleamed with sadistic glee as he watched you writhe in ecstasy, your moans echoing off the walls. The obscene sounds of your self-pleasure filled the room, mingling with the creaks of the bed and the soft buzzing of the vibrator.
"That's it, baby. Fuck yourself senseless. Show me just how depraved you can be when you're alone with your filthy toys," he sneered, stroking himself harder through his trousers.
As the pleasure built to a fever pitch, your inner muscles clamped down on the dildo, milking it for all it was worth. With a keening wail, you came undone, your whole body shaking as wave after wave of intense orgasm crashed over you.
"You're so beautiful when you lose control like that," Theo purred.
He sat up straighter in his chair, his eyes burning with a dark hunger as he watched you collapse back onto the bed, spent and panting. "Look at you, covered in sweat and cum... Such a lovely mess."
He rose slowly, unbuckling his belt and freeing his aching cock. It sprang forth, thick and pulsing, already leaking precum. With a wicked grin, he climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between your splayed thighs.
Theo grabbed your wrists roughly, pulling them above your head and securing them to the headboard with silky ropes. He repeated the process with your ankles, spreading your legs obscenely wide and tying them to the footposts.
"Just relax, love. This won't hurt a bit," he murmured, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he bound your wrists above your head to the headboard.
Once you were completely immobilized, he stepped back to admire his work, licking his lips as he drank in the sight of your helpless, exposed body.
"I think it's time I took my turn playing with you," he rasped, trailing a finger along your slick slit. "Open up for me, sweetheart. Let me fill this greedy cunt with something real."
Theo's fingers probed your dripping entrance, circling the rim before pushing inside. He groaned low in his throat at the feel of your velvety walls clenching around him. "Fuck, you're still so tight... Even after all that."
He worked two fingers deep, pumping them slowly as he watched your face contort with pleasure. His thumb found your sensitive clit, rubbing firm circles over the bud. "I bet you'd love to have my cock instead, wouldn't you? To feel me splitting you open, filling you up until you can't take anymore?"
His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "Tell me you need it. Beg me to fuck you raw."
Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body trembling from the aftershocks of your intense climax. As Theo's fingers delved into your sensitive flesh, you bit your lip hard, trying to stifle the moans that threatened to spill free.
His words sent a shiver down your spine, the image of him replacing those fingers with his thick, throbbing cock making your pussy clench hungrily. You wanted it, craved the sensation of being stretched and filled beyond capacity.
"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "Please, I need it. I need you inside me."
Theo smirked as he heard your breathy pleas, his ego swelling at the power he held over you. “Such a dirty, needy girl for me, aren’t you?”
With a growl of triumph, he lined himself up, the blunt head of his member nudging insistently at your entrance. In one swift motion, he hilted himself inside you, stretching you deliciously around his thick girth.
"Fuck!" he snarled, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in. The bed frame rattled with each powerful thrust, the obscene sound of flesh smacking against flesh filling the room. Theo set a brutal pace, pounding into you with single-minded focus, determined to make you scream.
Theo's hand shot down beside your body, grasping the vibrator. He turned it up to its highest setting, the intense vibrations making your entire pelvis quiver.
"This should really get you going, doesn't it?" he sneered, grinding the toy against your clit with each punishing thrust. "Feeling my cock splitting you open while this thing eats at your poor little pussy..."
His words were punctuated by the lewd slap of skin on skin as he continued to rail into you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each brutal stroke. The dual sensations of the vibrator and his cock driving into you relentlessly pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
Your body jerked violently as the vibrator hit full force, the intense vibrations making your clit throb in time with Theo's merciless thrusts. The restraints held you in place, forcing you to submit to every punishing stroke, every deep, grinding push against your cervix.
Pleasure and pain blurred together, the overwhelming sensations threatening to short-circuit your mind. Tears streamed down your face, your vision blurring at the edges as you teetered on the brink of another explosive orgasm.
Your toes curled, your back arching as much as the bonds would allow, trying to take him even deeper.
You cried out, writhing around, the restraints holding you back as he used you mercilessly, tears pricking your eyes. His free hand grabbed at your tits, roughly squeezing them as his thumb flicked over your nipple.
"Don't hold back now, cum for me, pretty girl," Theo commanded, his own climax rapidly approaching.
Theo felt your walls spasming wildly around him, signaling your impending orgasm. He redoubled his efforts, pistoning into you with ruthless intensity as the vibrator buzzed against your clit.
"That's it, baby, make a mess for me,” he muttered, his own release coiling tightly in his abdomen.
Your cry of ecstasy echoed through the room as you shattered, convulsing beneath him in the throes of an intense climax. Theo rode out your waves of pleasure, prolonging your orgasm with deliberate thrusts.
Just as he was about to crest the peak himself, he abruptly pulled out, leaving you empty and aching. With a few quick strokes, he spilled his seed across your stomach and chest, painting you in his essence.
Theo collapsed beside you on the bed, chest heaving as he caught his breath. After a moment, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his side.
"I love you, baby.” He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch soothing as he wiped a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your face. “Let’s clean you up.” And with a flick of his wand, the white fluids covering you were gone.
“Our friends probably think we’re dead by now, you know. We’ve been up here for so long,” you murmured.
“Darling, I’m pretty sure they’re smart enough to know that the screaming coming from up here wasn’t because of ghosts.”
kinktober taglist: @mattheoriddles-slutt @theeslutintheroom @esmerai-artemis @gigival @cloudyyydayzzz @sn000py @abeoavita @yesiamthatwierd @shaquilles-0atmeal @roseofsharron438 @iouinotes @romantasyreader28 @c3liaaaaa @daenerystorgaryen @emma-grace0 @tori-303 @ilovehpb0ys
#theodore nott#theo nott#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x you#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#smut#theo nott smut#slytherin boys#lorenzo zurzolo#kinktober#theodore nott smut#harry potter#slytherin#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#leona-hawthorne kinktober
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 39: Life
Summary: Something begins to throb in your chest as you lay there. Something thrums deep within you, something you haven’t felt in weeks.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 7,343 words
Warnings: Angst, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, PTSD, nightmares, POV changes, depression and anxiety, illness, language, slightly graphic imagery, very slight violence, rumination, lots of feels, and yes finally some comfort
A/N: Yes, it has finally arrived. The time has come. We are now in the comfort. This very much is a good place to end things for the next month. If you haven't seen my post then I'll say it here, I will be putting the fic on a brief hiatus for the month of October. I have Kyletober planned and trying to do CRCB at the same time will be too much. So this will be the last chapter for a couple weeks while I focus on other things and just give my brain a little break from CRCB. It's been eight months of just pumping out long chapters every week, or almost every week, so I need a little break to focus on other things. I'll still be writing and posting things here (and Ao3 of course) but there won't be another CRCB chapter posted until November.
But anyway, I hope you enjoy this one and the comfort starting and I'm super excited for what's coming next month (can't believe it's almost October)
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“I need you to be brave.” Christine says, staring up at him.
His heart thumps in his chest. How bad is it that not only did she summon him down here, but she’s asking him to be brave. He knows you’re sick, that you’ve fallen ill after your moment of anger earlier. She had informed them over dinner as she made some broth that you came down with a fever.
They had all been worried, sharing glances at the news. John looked like a dog that had been scolded. It was his fault, after all.
If anything happens to you, it is his fault.
Johnny swallows the lump in his throat, nodding slowly as he stares down at Christine. “I can be brave.”
Christine stares up at him for a long moment before nodding. She pushes the door open, leading him inside your room. The scent in the air is thick, tainted by the bitter scent of anxiety still lingering in the air, and the sour scent of illness. He misses the fresh scent of strawberries, he has missed it over the last few weeks. Your scent had taken on a bitter edge ever since the cameras were revealed to them. It’s only gotten stronger recently after the events that transpired.
All of their scents have been off lately.
It’s dark in the room aside from the bedside lamp. It casts a soft glow around the room, elongating the shadows in the corners. They loom threateningly, and his fingers twitch to turn on the overhead light.
You don’t like the overhead light. It’s too bright.
You always prefer softer light. Is it an omega thing, or is it just a you thing? He’s not quite sure.
How little they really understand you.
The lamp illuminates a pile of blankets on the bed, stacked one on top of each other to create a lump of soft fabric. You’re underneath that pile, he knows it. You’ve always liked blankets, always carried one with you in the barracks, eternally cold in the harsh world they existed in on base. This many blankets though? It was excessive even for you.
He approaches the bed slowly, scared at what he might find. Images of you laying in a puddle of blood, cold and stiff fills his mind. Images of a skeletal figure reduced to nothing but skin stretched over bones has his heart racing. What will he find on the other side of that pile obscuring you from his vision?
He swallows down his fear, reminding himself that he’s a soldier. He’s seen dead bodies before, he’s killed before. So why is he so scared now?
This isn’t war. It’s you.
He steps up to the side of the bed, looking down on you. You’re shivering, trembling under the blankets. Sweat beads on your forehead, skin dewy and clammy in your fever. You look more alive than the skeletal figure he had pictured in his mind, but you don’t look well.
You look near death.
“I’m worried about her.” Christine says, closing the door behind her. “She needs someone from her pack close. You’re making the most effort right now, and if anyone might get through to her, it’s you. She needs...someone.” Christine sighs. “Someone who can offer what I can’t.”
“She needs a member of her pack.” Johnny says, easily putting together what Christine was saying.
He knows what she’s asking. He’s scared. He’s not sure how you’ll react. The last people you want to see right now is your pack, including him. How will you react to having him so close?
“Exactly.” Christine says, stepping up right next to him.
Her fingers wrap around his wrist, and he lets her guide his hand to your cheek. It’s hot and clammy against his palm, a fire blazing under your skin. You let out a shuddering breath, the air fanning weakly against his wrist. Your head turns just slightly, pressing into his hand. It’s a good sign, despite the delirium you have to be stuck in. What are you imagining is happening right now? What is your brain telling you?
“Touch her, talk to her.” Christine says, releasing his wrist. He keeps his hand there, pressed against your cheek. “We need to try and get her back before this gets worse.”
Before they lose you.
She won’t say it out loud.
She doesn’t need to.
Johnny nods, turning his head to look at Christine over his shoulder. She looks exhausted, and not just because of the late hour. She’s done so much over the past few weeks watching you and caring for you. Maybe it is time one of them tries to step up and help her. You can’t avoid them forever, no matter how much you might feel like trying.
He has to try. For you.
“I know what tae do.” He says, his eyes flickering to the books stacked on your dresser, the ones Simon and John picked up.
Christine squeezes his arm. “I’m just across the living room if you need me.”
“I’ll try not to.” He says.
She stares up at him for a long moment before nodding. She understands. He doesn’t have to say much else. She leaves the door cracked and he doesn’t mind, moving away from you to look through the books on the dresser. A handful of them are new, or at least ones he’s never seen you read before. A couple are ones he knows are in your collection at the barracks. He picks one of those, some fantasy novel he’s seen you read more than once.
He looks between the bed and the chairs. He could pull one over and sit by your side.
No, Christine said it was better to touch you.
Instead he climbs onto the bed, sitting close enough he can feel the heat from your body. He cracks open the book, flipping through to the first page. He clears his throat, staring down at you for a moment before he begins to read.
Rain batters the roof, coming down hard outside. The wind is blowing, whooshing past the house, rattling the shutters. The storm blew in from the sea, dumping rain by dinner and then the wind picked up by the time they were all getting ready to settle in for the night.
It feels fitting, a storm blowing in at a time when a storm is brewing within their pack.
The storm he blew into their pack.
He lays there in bed, listening to it rage outside. It’s quiet in the house, Simon and Johnny already settled in, and so are you downstairs. Kyle is beside him, but not asleep. He’s laying awake again as they have done since their arrival. He can feel the heat of Kyle’s body against his arm as he lays on his back, Kyle on his side facing away from him.
“You just had to do it, didn’t you?” Kyle asks quietly, breaking the silence. “Can’t even go a week without trying to apologize knowing full well she won’t forgive you.”
John stays silent, having expected some kind of reprimanding for his actions. He really was selfish for what he did. Kyle is right. You won’t forgive him, no matter how many times or ways he tries to say sorry.
“You’re just making it worse.” Kyle huffs out. “You’re the last person that should try apologizing right now.”
“You’re right.” He finally says. “It was selfish of me to do that. I just wanted her to know-”
“She knows.” Kyle snaps, cutting him off. “She’s not stupid and oblivious. She knows we’re all feeling guilty, she knows how sorry we all are. She won’t let us apologize until she’s ready. Shows just how little you actually understand her, trying to do that.” Kyle pushes himself up to sit. “She doesn’t want words. She’s had words spewed at her, her whole life telling her what to do, how to feel, how to act. She want’s actions. She wants us to prove to her that we do care, that we are sorry, that we’re making an effort to make things up to her. She wants us to prove that we’re putting her first by putting her first.”
John knows he’s right. Words won’t solve a situation like this. None of them know where to start, though. How do you try and make things up to someone when you’re not even sure that person wants you to try?
“She’s sick now, because of what you did.” Kyle continues. “If anything happens to her...” He trails off, shaking his head.
“I’ll let you take the first shot.” John says. “I know. I’ve been a miserable excuse of an alpha. It’s easy when you have the confines of the military to hold everything in place. When those expectations dictate your life and how to run a pack. It’s easy, when you can exist as a pack with those set routines and structures. The facade that makes everything seem like it's working.” He shakes his head. “We never would have worked outside of those confines.”
Kyle’s head turns slightly towards him, but his gaze is still on the far wall. “No, we wouldn’t have. None of us would have chosen this in the first place.”
“Probably not.” John agrees. “Then we got an omega added, an outsider that showed us just how weak we really were.”
“We were crumbling long before that.” Kyle says. “We weren’t ready for an omega, we shouldn’t have ever had an omega.”
“I should never have been head alpha.” John says. “Being an alpha is different from being a captain. It shouldn’t have been me.”
Kyle snorts. “He would have never agreed.”
“That delay might have saved us.”
“Or it would have made things worse.” Kyle says. “Shepherd wanted us to bond with her right away so his control over us would strengthen if he had to use that power. If those bonds weren’t put into place when they were, they might have tried to force it.”
“That would have only destabilized things further.” John says. Kyle isn’t wrong. Who knows what lengths they would have gone to, to ensure what they wanted would happen. “They were watching us from the start. They knew exactly how to play all of us.”
“Simon was right all along in his suspicions.” Kyle says, laying back down on the bed. Their shoulders are touching. It feels nice, having him close again. They’ve been close for the last few days, forced together by their sleeping arrangements, but it feels different now.
“He’ll be a better alpha than I ever could be.” John says quietly, almost speaking to himself.
“I think she will come to forgive you eventually.” Kyle says, turning his head to look at John. “You just have to give her time. A lot of time. You have to figure out how to prove yourself worthy of that forgiveness.”
“I want to take her to the beach.” John says. “Once she’s recovered.”
“If she recovers.” Kyle had pieced together the worry in Christine’s voice combined with her words. They all had.
“She will.” John says. “She’s a tough little thing. She’s not going to give up just like that.”
“I hope you’re right.” Kyle says.
“I may not have the best track record with being right currently, but I’m confident in her and her strength.” John turns his head to look at Kyle in the darkness. The storm is calming outside, the wind dying down and the rain lightening. “She’s stronger than all of us combined.”
The corners of Kyle’s lips twitch. “You are right about that.”
It smells good.
There’s a rich scent in the air as you begin to wake. It smells like Christmas, like spices and citrus. Warm gingerbread and cider. Freshly squeezed orange juice on Christmas morning just like every year. It had been your favorite, though you never understood the lengths your mother went to, the early morning and the hours spent in the kitchen on Christmas slaving away to make everything perfect. Everyone got something they wanted, something they loved. You never appreciated that effort until now.
Oranges. Spices. Warmth.
You know that scent.
It’s hot in the room, sweat soaking your skin as you lay on your right side. Heat surrounds you like a cocoon, just like the scent. Warm and soft and too much. You try to wiggle out from under the blankets but you can’t move, so instead you shuffle them off. Some of them hit the floor with soft plops, the others just barely hanging on the side of the bed, trapped under your body. You’re still stuck, still hot as you lay there, a comforting weight around you. The scent floods your nose, fills your body with a pleasant feeling as you lay there, breathing through your nose. Oranges, spices, warmth.
Someone is baking a pie.
It smells good. You want to bury yourself in it, press yourself into that scent until it’s the only thing you can smell. It brings you a comfort you didn’t realize you were missing. Something fills your chest, a weight beginning to press down inside of you.
Your hair sticks to your face as you lay there, tempted to get up and see who is baking and why. There’s weight pressing down on you from the outside as well. You can’t move. You’re stuck.
The weight around you moves.
No, it’s not pie.
It’s Johnny.
That’s why you know the scent. That’s why it feels so familiar, so comforting. It’s Johnny. Johnny is pressed up against your back, his arm tossed over your waist. That’s why it’s so hot, his body putting off warmth like a heater.
You should be angry at the breach of your clearly placed barriers. You should be upset that he would come in here and just climb in bed like this. You should be pissed that one of them would try something like this after your outburst yesterday.
You shouldn’t be crying.
Not out of relief.
Oh how you missed this.
Something begins to throb in your chest as you lay there, crying quietly in Johnny’s arms. Something begins to thrum deep within you, something you haven’t felt in weeks. Life? Hope? Happiness?
You should be upset.
You can’t be.
Johnny grunts quietly behind you, his arm leaving your waist as he stretches. He’s awake now, or maybe he hadn’t been at all and had been waiting for some sign of life, some movement from you, something to try and give him a hint at what you must be feeling. He doesn’t say anything, laying still as you sniffle in the silence. No one else is up yet, despite the blue light of dawn coming in through the gap in the curtain.
“Johnny?” You whisper, even the quiet sound hurting your sore throat. You’re thirsty, desperately so, but that’s a problem for later.
“It’s me, kitten.” He says hesitantly, the pet name making a sob tear from your throat.
“Johnny,” You cry, the tears falling in a cascade. You can’t stop them. You’ve lost complete control as you lay there sobbing. “Hold me.”
He doesn’t say anything else, his arms wrapping around you and tugging you close against his chest. He locks you in his embrace, holding you tightly against his chest as you cry. It feels good. Life and energy flows through you again for the first time in weeks. That empty space in your chest begins to fill slowly, warmth blossoming in your body despite the sweat soaking you both. Johnny offers no complaints as he presses his face into your hair.
How you missed this.
How you need this.
You seem more relaxed at dinner. Despite your angry outburst the day before, and your sudden illness, you look significantly less miserable than you did your first attempt at joining them for dinner. The yelling did a number on your throat, but even now it’s nothing compared to that first day. You’re having soup again, and this time there’s a side of mash and peas next to the bowl.
You even walked to the table without the crutch.
Simon sits beside you again, all of them taking their respective seats at the table. They’ve assigned themselves these seats, even when you don’t join them for a meal. You’re at the head of the table as you were the first time, Simon and Chrstine on either side of you. Kyle and Johnny are seated next to them, and John is across the table from you. You’ve been avoiding looking at him. You haven’t even so much as glanced up at him.
Simon is watching you carefully out of the corner of his eye, trying not to make it obvious. If you’ve noticed, you haven’t shown any disapproval. He’s ready in case he has to act fast again, but you are far more steady than you were that first time. There’s no tremble to your hand as you bring the spoon up to your mouth.
The others look happier than before too. Johnny has stopped crying. Not even a sniffle from him ever since this morning when he emerged from your room. None of them had said anything about it, though they have an inkling of what had happened, judging by Christine’s lack of reaction to it. Kyle looks happier too, sitting straighter like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. It probably has, with the lightening of the mood. Whatever happened with Johnny this morning, it’s made a huge change already.
John has never been much of a religious man, but god bless Johnny for whatever magic he worked this morning.
You don’t even look feverish as you sit there, spooning soup into your mouth. A lingering low-grade fever, Christine had informed them earlier that afternoon, but significantly less concerning than things had been yesterday.
He’s glad to hear it. He’s always glad to hear Christine’s updates on how you’re doing, how well you’re healing, at least physically. The body heals easily. Mentally...there’s still a long way to go. Healing physically will help mentally, but with all the trauma, years and years of trauma, it’s going to take a long time to heal from that.
The clink of your spoon in your bowl draws him from his thoughts and he glances up at you.
“Getting full?” Christine asks as you take a sip of your water, wincing slightly as you swallow it.
“Can I have some tea?” You ask.
“Sure,” Christine says, going to push her chair back, but John is already standing.
“I’ll make some.” He says, not offering any room for argument as he turns his back on the table to head for the kettle.
You’ve been drinking more tea lately, likely to soothe your throat. He never thought he’d see the day, given your determination to stand with Johnny on the side of coffee. It’s a bit late for coffee, but he does know it wouldn’t keep you awake in the slightest. You love your sleep, as most omegas do, and nothing will get in the way of it. Not even some late evening caffeine.
He sets mugs out on a tray, deciding to make tea for everyone. At least that way it’ll make it seem less targeted at you. He’s not doing it to try and impress you or win your affections back. He just wants to help take the load off of Christine’s shoulders. She’s done so much for you, for all of them, already.
He steeps the tea before bringing the mugs to the table along with some milk and sugar. He knows at least Simon and Kyle will drink some, and he will as well. He brings the kettle over, filling the mugs with tea. All of them sit there watching him, waiting tensely for what will happen next. Will you take the mug of tea he offers? Or will you refuse. Even if you threw it in his face, it wouldn’t make him mad. It would be horribly painful, yes, but he would deserve it.
Perhaps him doing this was a mistake.
He stares at the sugar and milk as he grabs one of the mugs. Do you like sugar or milk in your tea? He’s not sure. He doesn’t even know how you take your tea. He knows you like creamer in your coffee. But how do you take your tea?
What a sad excuse of a human being he is.
You don’t look at him as he sets the mug next to your water glass. You’re still eating your soup, your hand trembling just slightly now. Your scent is tainted still, a whiff of it filling his nose. Displeasure, a hint of burning anger.
This was a mistake.
He sets the milk and sugar next to you first, letting you finish making your tea. He won’t push that boundary and risk making it wrong. It would only add fuel to the fire, make it more obvious that he knows and cares so little for you. He doesn’t even know how you take your tea.
He takes his seat again as the others help themselves to the tea, even Johnny taking a mug. Whether he’s doing it because he wants to make the moment feel less awkward, or because he genuinely wants some, John will never know.
He made a mistake in doing that.
Still, despite the awkwardness, it felt good to do that.
Maybe that’s how they get closer to you.
The little things, things that take some of the pressure off Christine. She has to be getting tired, going nonstop all day. Anything they can do to help, they should. Things seemed to go well with Johnny, so maybe the others can have some success in their attempts to gain your favor once more.
John will have to stay away for now. Distance is what you need from him.
That’s alright. He has other things he can do.
He tries to hide the small grin on his face as you pick up the mug, taking a sip of the tea.
They’re fighting.
You stand at the back door watching them throw punches. They’re solid punches, nothing held back, no pulling them. They’re all breathing heavily, two of them watching the other two fight.
Simon’s fist meets Kyle’s shoulder, Kyle’s fist going for Simon’s head but he’s too fast, ducking before he drives his shoulder into Kyle’s stomach. Kyle hits the grass, disappearing from your view.
John steps forward, pulling Simon back and speaking to him, but you can’t hear from this distance.
“Still out there?” Dr. Keller asks, stepping up beside you.
“Yep.” You say, watching as Johnny takes Kyle’s place against Simon.
“John did say it would be good for them.” Dr. Keller says, wincing as Johnny’s fist hits Simon’s ribs.
“They’re gonna start a real fight.” You say, watching as Simon starts to get more aggressive. You can tell because you’ve been in that position before. You’ve seen when that switch starts to flip, when the alpha starts to take over. He was never this aggressive with you, but perhaps even his alpha could be rational given your obvious size and strength difference.
And the fact you’re an omega.
“Well, that’s their problem.” Dr. Keller says. “As long as they keep it out there.”
“They might make you patch them up afterwards.” You say.
She lets out a snort. “There’s ice packs in the freezer and a first aid kit in the bathroom.”
You try to hide your smile as you watch John get in between Johnny and Simon, speaking to Simon again. Maybe it will be good for them to get some of that pent up energy out. They’re all used to being so active and always having something to do. Being stuck inside has to be driving them stir-crazy. Simon has been going on runs in the morning, and you know John has been going on walks every so often.
You’re starting to feel a bit stir-crazy yourself. It’s taking you back to the days shut up in the barracks, unable to go anywhere or do anything, having to entertain yourself for hours while they were gone. At least there you had space and room to move around, even when you were being trailed, one of them constantly following you around. They might not be hovering quite as obviously here, but it still feels suffocating, like you can’t truly have a moment to yourself.
“I want to go for a walk.” You say, shifting on your feet. The likelihood of you going very far is slim, at least right now.
How far you’ve fallen from your running days.
“I suppose you could go for a little walk.” Dr. Keller gives you a sideways glance. “Might be good to help get your strength back. I doubt they’d let us go without one of them, though.”
“Probably not.” You agree, knowing they won’t even let you sit out on the porch without one of them watching. If you left the house without even telling one of them, all hell would break loose and you’d be condemned to your room once more.
The thought makes you wince.
You almost wish you could go out there and throw some punches at one of them. That might make you feel a bit better. Hell, line them all up and you’ll take turns beating the crap out of all of them. Maybe that might heal some of the anger and pain still stuck inside of you.
That’s an idea for a different day, though.
It’s oddly warm out today, or at least that’s what Ashley said. Soon the weather will turn, though, and the cold rain will come. Lots of rain.
Your eyes flick between Ashley and Dr. Keller. The three of you are seated in a circle around a table outside, steaming mugs of tea in front of you. Neither of them are staring at you, instead focused on each other as Ashley speaks.
Dr. Keller has a crush.
It’s not hard to tell. Her eyes are focused on Ashley, a smile tugging at her lips. Her gaze only flicks to you when you shift and move in your seat before she’s staring at Ashley again. You can’t blame her. You can hardly bring yourself to look away from Ashely too.
It makes you almost miss Kyle.
They have the same soft brown eyes and the same bright smile. They’re both perfect, like they were chiseled out of marble and brought to life. They even laugh the same, a genuine chuckle coming right from the chest.
It makes you want to laugh, even if you have no clue what was being said.
How has Kyle been handling this? You’ve hardly paid him any mind. His connection to John puts him too close to the source of your anger and rage and pain. Johnny cries, Simon is a brick wall, John reeks of guilt and misery. Kyle...you don’t know. He’s been a blank spot, a hazy figure in the distance.
It almost makes you feel bad. You’ve completely cut him off, isolated him. Has he cried? Has he been sulking? How miserable does he feel about everything? Does he feel guilty or miserable at all? He has to. They all do.
Good. You think. They deserve it.
“You do get stuck in your head, huh?”
Your gaze snaps up, looking between Dr. Keller and Ashley. They’re both staring at you quietly, a small smile on Ashley’s face. You did get lost in your thoughts again, stuck in your ruminations as you usually do. Lately it hasn’t been a problem, as you’re alone or with Dr. Keller often. You’re supposed to be thinking and processing. It just happens at the worst times.
Simon would hate it still.
“Something specific on your mind?” Dr. Keller asks.
You probably shouldn’t say anything. How would you explain how your mind went from Dr. Keller crushing on Ashley to hoping the guys feel guilty? You’re not even sure you should reveal that you know about Dr. Keller’s crush, especially if she hasn’t said anything yet. You don’t think she has. They’re not...close in the way a couple would be, a distance still between them. Does Ashley feel the same way? It’s hard to tell since you don’t know her quite as well yet.
Maybe that can be your goal, besides healing. Something to focus on, something to distract from the constant emotions and pain. Get Ashley and Dr. Keller together.
They’d be perfect for each other.
“Not really.” You finally say, looking down at the book in your lap. You’re about halfway through it. It’s fine. Nothing to write home about.
“What do you think of the book?” Ashley asks, sensing your end to that discussion. She doesn’t push. You like that about her.
“It’s alright.” You shrug. “Kinda slow.”
“They are spending a lot of time on character development.” Dr. Keller says.
“We should keep a tally of how many times the phrase “his dark eyes” gets mentioned.” Ashley says, making you laugh.
“It’s good to hear you laugh.” Dr. Keller says, smiling at you.
“It...feels good to laugh again.” You say. “It’s nice to have something to laugh about.”
“Well then I’m going to make that my mission.” Ashley says, taking a sip of her tea. “Get you to laugh as much as possible.”
You don’t think you’ll mind that one bit.
The scream dies in your throat as you jolt awake in bed. The book that had been in your hands when you fell asleep drops to the floor with a quiet thud as you jerk up into a seated position. You’re breathing heavily, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you try and calm your racing heart. It’s beating hard like it might beat right out of your chest. You’re shaking, your hands clutching at the baggy shirt you’re wearing like you’re trying to cling to some hope that it was all a dream, that you’re awake now and this is real life.
Sweat beads on your forehead as you sit there, shaking in the darkness. You need someone. The shadows are closing in around you, your nightlight unable to keep them completely away. You need someone to fight them back. You need someone to reassure you that it was all just a dream, someone that can wipe the tears streaming down your cheeks and whisper softly to you that it’s all okay. That it’s all over.
You need Kyle.
Where is Kyle? How do you get to him without waking the others? You could go upstairs but what if they think you’re an intruder? You don’t even know which room Kyle is in. You wish you had a phone. You wish you could call him. You wish you could just telepathically reach out and tell him you need him and only him.
You’ll wake them all anyway trying to find him.
You suck a breath in, your hands still shaking as they cling to your shirt. You have to do it. It’s the only way to get them all down here, to get Kyle down here.
You take a couple deep breaths before you scream.
Within seconds the house is alive, footsteps racing across the living room towards your room as others thud from above.
The overhead light stings your eyes, forcing them closed. It’s too bright, intrusive even with your eyes pinched closed. You can still see it behind your eyelids, harsh and too artificial. Just a price you have to pay to get what you need.
Dr. Keller’s hands are soft as they peel your hands off your shirt, your fingers trembling with nothing to hold on to. They open and close, seeking out something to grip, something to give you an anchor to reality. You’re still panicking, your breaths shaky as you sit there, trembling in fear.
“You’re alright,” She tries to soothe you, brushing your sweaty hair back. “It was just a dream.”
You wish it was.
“Kyle.” The name comes out as barely a whisper, stuttering out of your trembling lips.
“What was that, sweetie?” Dr. Keller asks, leaning in closer.
“Kyle.” You whisper louder now, the name shaky in the tense silence of the room.
“Kyle,” Dr. Keller repeats, standing up straight.
Quiet, hesitant footsteps approach the bed. Your eyes are still pinched closed against the harsh overhead light. You can’t bring yourself to be brave enough to open them, to face that harsh light. It might reveal the truth, that it was all just a dream, that this is still just a dream.
It might not be Kyle approaching the bed at all.
You can’t know. You don’t want to know. You’re afraid to open your eyes.
There’s a click as the lamp is turned on. You still can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. It’s supposed to be comforting, the soft light, but it could be used against you, giving you a false sense of hope and security.
You flinch as the overhead light is turned off, still too afraid to open your eyes. Your hands have closed around the blanket pooled at your waist, gripping it so tightly your fingers are aching. It’s real. You’re touching it, you can feel the texture of it in your hands. It’s real.
It’s real.
Your breaths are shaky as you breathe in and out, trying to catch a scent. Any scent. Something to tell you that you’re really awake, that it really is Kyle standing next to the bed.
“I’m here.” A soft voice says, something hovering in the air next to you.
Kyle.
You know that voice. You’d know it anywhere.
You finally crack your eyes open, tears brimming as you turn your head to look up. Kyle is standing there awkwardly next to the bed, his hand raised as if he was reaching out to comfort you, but thought better of it. You’re glad he did. You might have spiraled into another panic if he’d touched you before you knew it was him.
You stare at his hand for a moment before you peel one of your hands away from the blanket. Your hand is shaky as you lift it, reaching out towards his own trembling fingers.
His fingers are warm and rough, just as you remember as they close around yours. You’re still shaking, a cold sweat forming on your skin as fear trickles down your spine.
What if this is a dream? What if this isn’t real?
“I’m here.” He says, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles.
You want to believe him. You really do.
You pull his hand closer, pressing your cheek against it. His skin is warm against your cheek, and like Johnny, he makes no complaints about your sweat smearing on his skin. You’ve been that close to them before, sweat mixing together, slicking skin. How far things have fallen since then.
Your tears drip onto his skin as you hold him there, just breathing him in for a moment. He smells like the sea, but with that soft, light scent underneath. You missed that scent, more than you realize you did.
You let out a quiet sound as you rub your cheek against his hand, almost like you’re trying to embed his scent under your skin.
He doesn’t say anything as you lean against his hand, tears still streaming down your face. The lamp is pushing some of the darkness away, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough. You can still feel the eyes from the dark corners of the room, the shadowy figures just out of view threatening to reach out and tear you away.
A shudder runs down your spine, your fingers squeezing around Kyle’s in what has to be a painful grip.
“I’m here.” He says again, pulling you from the dark thoughts plaguing your mind. He’d know if someone was here. He’d know if anything threatening was nearby.
It’s his job.
The job.
The thing that’s kept you so separated from them, kept you at a distance. The thing that put your life in danger, that exposed them all as liars. The thing that’s left you an empty shell.
Maybe having him down here was a mistake.
But the shadows...
You tug on his hand, pulling him closer to the bed. He sinks down on the edge carefully, still a bit hesitant. You don’t blame him. It’s not like you’ve been the most welcoming of them. For good reason.
You need him right now. That need for safety and security far outweighs the conflicting emotions battling in your brain right now.
“Stay.” You say, the word tumbling out from your trembling lips.
“You’re sure?” He asks, his thumb still stroking your knuckles. You’re not sure if he even knows he’s doing it.
You nod, tugging him closer as you scoot over in bed. He lets you guide him, laying on top of the covers.
You try not to think about it too much.
It’s nice having him close. The shadows don’t seem quite as dark, the threats in them silent now that he’s here. He’ll keep you safe. He’ll protect you from the silent threats. That’s why you want him. That’s his role to play in all of this. They all have roles, they all have their places in the pack. They all have a part to play, not just for you but for each other.
They’ve been struggling.
They’re struggling because you’re struggling.
The silence is loud as you lay there listening to the hum of electricity. You’re not quite sure what to say, how to break the silence. What is there to say that you haven’t already conveyed by your silence? What is there to say beyond what you’ve conveyed in your anger? They all heard your outburst, they all know the source of your anger and what they did to cause it.
What’s left to say when you have nothing tying you together anymore except a claim and a half-broken bond? What is there to say when saying the wrong thing might fray that bond even more than it already has been?
“I’m sorry.” Kyle says, finally breaking the tense silence.
Of course he’d start with that.
You let out a huff, turning on your side to face away from him. “I know you all are. You don’t have to keep saying it.”
He lets out a sigh. He knows it. He’s not apologizing to you, for you. “Nothing can change what we did and we know that. We just...want you to know that we’ll do whatever it takes to help you and support you. We don’t want to push that boundary too far, but we’re all here if you need us.”
You let out a hum. You already know that too. That’s why Johnny came so willingly, that’s why he stayed. That’s why they all tiptoe around you and stare at you like you’re a wild animal that may strike at any moment.
Part of you wishes they wouldn’t.
Part of you wants to go back to the way things were. Part of you wants to pretend that everything is normal again, that you love them and they love you just as much. You want to go back to that comfortable, seamless flow of one around the other, the way they all moved in sync, aware of each other without even needing to look. You want to insert yourself into that flow again and let them guide you along with them. You want to trust them blindly again and know they’d catch you if you fall.
They proved they won’t though. They proved you can’t trust them to catch you. You’re on your own again, forced to catch yourself, forced to save yourself. You have to make that rope to catch yourself with.
Yet, a deeper part of you yearns for that connection. Your omega screams for it, for your alpha, for your pack. You want them back with you, you want the bonds to heal and to be stronger than they were before. You want them to do as they said and prove to you that they’ve changed, that they're putting you first.
The omega should be first. The omega should be the center. The omega should be the sun they gravitate towards, revolve around.
That’s what the book said. That book that’s sitting on your desk in the barracks. That book you read over and over, convincing yourself that it was true and they were a good pack like that book said.
They’re not.
We all make mistakes.
They’ve never had an omega before. How are they supposed to know how to have an omega in their pack if they’ve never had one before? None of them came from big packs. John is the only one who’s ever even dated an omega before. They’re just as new at this as you are.
You probably know more than them.
You spent years learning how to be an omega in a pack. You read the books and wrote the essays and did the research. You read that book.
Simon read that book too.
Yet he did nothing.
“Why did you want me?” Kyle asks softly, pulling you from your ruminations.
You turn your head to look at him, staring into those soft brown eyes. Brown eyes you’ve missed. Tears trail down your cheeks as you stare at him, wetting the paths of the ones that had slowed to a stop in your rumination.
Why did you want him and not Johnny?
Johnny was the one that came for you, that comforted you, that got you through your fever. Johnny was the one you asked to hold you, to give you that support you’ve been so desperately clawing for.
So why did you ask for Kyle?
You turn onto your back again so you’re laying side by side, your shoulder brushing his. He’s warm, and you just want to nuzzle into him and never let him go again.
Another tear slides down your face as you stare at him, at that concerned look on his face. “I need you to tell me it’s going to be okay.”
That concern morphs into understanding as he shifts slightly, reaching out for you. You let him, you let his thumb brush the tear sliding down your cheek away. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at you as you lay there in the warm light of the lamp. The shadows don’t seem so close now, so threatening with him here. The things that lay in the darkness waiting for you to sleep so they can seep into your mind and stir up the horrible memories lying there in wait are at bay for now, fought off just simply by his existence in this room.
His thumb continues to brush your cheek, your skin tingling along the path it follows. “It’s going to be okay.” He says softly, quietly.
You’re not sure if he’s convincing you of that or himself, or perhaps both. You don’t know what he’s feeling, what he’s been feeling. You’ve been ignoring him, pushing him away out of fear that if you looked too closely, you’d break down. That bond will never break between the two of you, held tight with steel simply because of that claim your alpha and his alpha has on the both of you. No matter how much you hate John, that bond can’t be broken. It can’t be cut. It can’t go away. It can’t be denied. Not completely.
A small smile tugs at Kyle’s lips, a reassuring smile. His words are stronger this time, spoken with more conviction and surety, like he’s speaking it into existence, manifesting it for the future when things perhaps can be different.
When things are better.
“It’s going to be okay.” He says, cupping your cheek, staring right into your eyes as he speaks. “We’re going to be okay.”
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#call of duty#call of duty fic#poly 141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#Johnny mactavish x reader#soap x reader#Kyle Garrick x reader#gaz x reader#John price x reader#captain price x reader#Simon Riley x reader#Ghost x reader#a/b/o#alpha/beta/omega#omegaverse
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Spellbound
Warnings: Minors dni, smut, oral, cunnilingus, unprotected, fluff, some violence, biting
Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x Witch reader
Summary: You're a witch with a specific skill set, one that has intrigued a certain hybrid.
Word count: 2.7k
...
Voodoo. Magic. Impulse. Obsession.
She was his newest fascination.
He heard her laughter cracking through the walls of the barren bar before it cut short. Klaus observed how the sunlight blazed across her, poorly parked, car. His lips slanted in mild amusement. He told himself, that’s all it was, all she was. Mild amusement for an immortal. Though, something felt different.
He strutted into the place, head hung high as he scanned the bare vicinity. His eyes halted on a man behind the bar, rinsing glass cups. The bartender's eyes adverted from Klaus, the second he caught his stare. The man's nerves were duly noted as Klaus approached him.
“I’ll have a glass of your finest red,” Klaus spoke artfully, with a fake smile plastered on his face. The worker shuddered. “Ug- we’re not serving right now.”
“No worries mate,” his mellifluous voice paused. “The red I fancy isn’t something I’d find on your menu.” The man's gaze shot up to Klaus’s. His lips trembled as Klaus continued his jest. “Unless you intend to provide me with a bite, I suggest you tell me where she’s hidden.” Klaus’s threat echoed through the building, till silence took its place.
Suddenly, the sound of a back door, opening and slamming shut jolted Klaus away from the bartender. He instantly raced to the door, ripping it open. He watched as her frame scattered into her rusted car. He growled. There was no way he'd let her escape once again...
Your body was convulsing with anxiety. Who were you to know a little magic truce with the “other side,” would have a certain hybrid on your front doorstep. It didn’t help when you levitated everything in your apartment at him, including your freshly made spaghetti with bolognese. It was to be expected, that would piss him off...
Yanking the car door shut, you forced the key in and started the engine.
“Where are we headed this time darling?”
“Ahhh!” You screamed, snapping your head to the uninvited passenger. Klaus sat leisurely beside you, and you swear your life flashed before your eyes. “I must say, I enjoyed our time in Chicago. Perhaps San Fran may be the next best thing, love.” His smug face adorned your features, absorbing the way your face contorted in both fear and frustration.
“Jesus,” you huff, and Klaus’s smirk grows. “As much as I love the idea, somehow becoming your personal chauffeur isn’t that appealing.” Klaus chuckles lowly, leaning in, more and more.
“Well, if you hadn’t decided to run off, you crafty little thing," he drawls sweetly, "We wouldn’t have the pleasure.”
“If you weren’t trying to kill me, maybe I’d stick around.” Klaus’s brows twist like he's appalled by your words. “Who said I was interested in killing you?”
“You- I- then, what do you want?” You stammer. Klaus went quiet. You watched as his expression goes blank, before he acts as though he was in deep thought. Then, his mouth gaped in 'awe,' as if the answer suddenly came to him. “Your talents of course.”
“My talents.” You repeat, baffled.
“Yes, do keep up, my dear.”
“Why? You could have any witch at your disposal, at a moment's notice.”
The corner of his lips elevate once more. “I’m flattered.”
He’s become so close now, you feel his breath, and you try not to shiver as it grazes your neck. He, on the other hand, basks in your scent.
“But, unlike my other witches, you have a gift,” he muses. “Your connection with the dead is something to behold, and something I crave.”
After a prolonged silence, you speak. “If I help you with whatever," you move further into your seat, "When it comes to an end, you’ll let me walk away, unscathed?” Your brow quirks, and with every fibre of your being, you manage to maintain eye contact. “Yes, you have my word.” Klaus’s expression went stoic, holding an unflinching seriousness that made your heart rate stutter. And strangely, you knew you could trust him.
That's how you ended up as his lackey. For the past 5 weeks, you were at his beck and call as he tormented humans, werewolves, and vampires alike.
Like any other day, your conscious is eating away at you, as you call upon another ancestor of those he plagues. Today though, you finally broke. He had been cruelly punishing a guy for hours, as you questioned his late brother through the veil.
“That’s enough!” Klaus’s eyes dart to yours, and his angry appearance softens. Instinctively, he grips your forearm and drags you out of the motel room.
“Love, what’s wrong?”
“What's wrong is that I’m tired, and his brother is telling me jack shit about those ‘hunters.’” You huff, closing your eyes.
Klaus firmly presses himself stock-still, resisting every urge that wishes to devour you, as you naively allow him to hold you so close, let your guard down, and close your eyes. Such an urge that has only worsened, and become insatiable since you started your venture together…
“Love, why don’t you grab a bite from the cafe across the street, while I fill up the car's tank?” He says heartfeltly, "That way we both can have a break."
Your eyes flutter open, and you nearly tremble at the gentle look that flickers in his gaze. However, his body language, which clutches you tightly, suggests he is anything but. “Okay.”
After five minutes alone in a booth, you gather up the last of the courage you were trying to dispel. Now, heading back to the rented room, to release the hostage. Stupid, very stupid, you think. But you can’t help it.
When you enter the room, the door slowly creaks shut, and shadows engulf you. It’s too quiet, and you can’t see the hostage. Unease fills your system, and you begin to regret this decision. That impending regret soon became alarms going off, when the captive grabs your torso, roughly caging your arms. His grip is inescapable, and when you try to scream, his free hand covers your mouth.
“You fucking bitch,” he murmurs with disgust, and you wince. “How about I leave you bleeding out here, all laid out for you bloodthirsty master.” The man crackles with humourless laughter. “I’m sure he’d appreciate that.”
While his venomous words made you cower, you relentlessly struggle against him, fighting with all that you could muster. Unfortunately, your captor was a werewolf, and far too strong for you to at least break free, to cast a spell.
He muffles Klaus’s name with his palm, and tears prick your eyes. Even after the numerous times you’d bicker and argue, he was still the first person who came to mind, who you hopelessly called out to.
The man began lifting your body towards the door, urgently turning the knob. Just as the outside light cuts into your vision, you're wrenched from him, pulled into a powerful embrace. With ease, Klaus’s arms carry you away, swiftly placing you in the backseat of your car, locked safely inside.
His figure then disappears just as quickly, and you hear your aggressor's voice wail in pain. Shaking, you curl over yourself, covering both ears pathetically.
After what feels like an eternity, two large hands cup your tear-stained cheeks, bringing you out of your shell. He quiets you, as he slides inside the vehicle, smoothly pulling you onto his lap. One of his arms supports your back, while the other strokes your hair. Calming you down, he mutters things like: 'Everything’s fine now love,' 'I’m here,' 'I’ll take care of you...'
“I’ve never felt so helpless,” you mumble.
He shakes his head. “There’s nothing you could've done to stop a werewolf, especially when a full moon draws near,” he soothes. You press your cheek further into his broad chest. “Though, I wish you would’ve just listened to me for once, and stayed put.”
You shoot your head up, adjusting to face him, close enough that your noses nearly meet. “If I listened to you, I’d probably be dead by now.”
“Oh really?” He grins, eyes creasing, “How so?”
“Well, for one, that time you ordered me to question that vampire chick's dead boyfriend about his affair, right in front of her.” Klaus guffaws. “You're laughing, but she would've bit my head off.”
“She wouldn’t have,” he denies, still chuckling.
“Yes, she would have Klaus.” You start to laugh too.
“You know, I wouldn’t have let her.” His face deadpans, “Like I didn’t let our were-friend hurt you," he voices, airily. "I gave you my word.”
“Yes, of course, your word.” You giggle nervously, glancing at the hand currently bracing your thigh, gliding its thumb back and forth. “It’s not all that I’ve given you.”
You look up and are met with a mysterious look this time. Your brows furrow in confusion. He smiles dreamily, “Your skills as a witch truly know no bounds.”
“The hell are you talking about now?” You retort, making Klaus laugh loudly.
“I’m talking about your spell," he whispers. "The one that has bewitched me.”
You freeze, heart dropping.
“You don’t mean that...” Your sentence trails off as Klaus stares through you.
He’s so unpredictable, that a part of you believes he's most likely playing some sick game. But, there was also a possibility that he meant it, and all the hidden desires, for your unconventional boss, were about to bubble to the surface.
“I've meant every word, from the moment I met you, when you got the better of me.” He smirks, breath fanning your face. “Witchcraft.”
Then his lips take yours, slow at first, but the entanglement shortly turns desperate. Slightly hesitant, you grind on him, eager to pull him closer. He groans, and his hands enthusiastically roam your waist and back, beckoning you nearer.
Moving in a frenzy, as your fingers tangle in his locks, you swing your leg to straddle him. He moans your name in between kisses, and palms your ass.
Continuously rolling your body into him, makes you feel his arousal, causing a whine to escape. When your lips break apart, his mouth runs down your jaw, to your neck. You gasp, but you don’t stop him. He audibly tells you how much he’s enjoying himself, and you squeeze your thighs over his.
“I can only imagine how sinful you taste here darling.” He remarks as his hand slides over your core, and you whimper. “How about you let me try?” He hums politely. “You know you want me to.”
“No,” you huff.
“No?” His voice rises questioningly, and a hand gropes your chest, while the other grips your chin, tilting your head down to peer into his eyes. “Not here,” you finish, and he smirks wildly.
“Then, I’ll just have to get us a private room?” He purrs seductively into you ear, making you shiver. “One that is, unoccupied,” he rolls his tongue, and you shiver again at the double meaning behind his words. You don’t even want to think about what he did to your assailant…
“Please,” you sigh into a kiss, pecking his lips, which seems to surprise Klaus momentarily. His surprise briskly turns into a beaming smile. “To be continued,” he utters before shifting you off him, and rushing out the car.
Not long after, Klaus reappears with that same childlike cheer gracing his features. Jerking the door open, he outstretches his hand like a gentleman. You accept it, and his palm completely envelops yours. He tugs you to his hip, and nibbles on your earlobe while you walk to a random room.
As soon as the door locks behind you, he presses himself against your backside. “Now, how about that taste?” He mutters while lifting your hair to kiss your nape, and rubbing himself against you. You press closer, before spinning around to enclose your mouth on his again. He groans into your mouth approvingly, backing your body toward the queen-size bed.
His lips free yours when your back legs hit the edge, and you fall backwards with a yelp. His hands soon make work of your lower half, removing your clothes as he kneels infront of your cunt. You inhale deeply, as cool air hits your bare body.
He goes silent, so you raise your head to peek at him. Klaus ogles you heatedly, like the predator he is. “Lovely,” he sing-songs.
He abruptly grips your thighs and heaves your core to his mouth, so close, his breath warms your skin. “K-Klaus.”
“Hmmm,” he hums shortly, before delving into you. You sob a cry of shock. His tongue expertly runs over your folds, sucking the nub with such a slow deliberation, like he can’t decide how he wishes to take you at first, as if he’s imagined every which way he could.
You whine, motioning him to make his choice, bucking up, feeling his stubble scratch you. Then he grows aggressive, hungrily lapping your clit, over and over, until he ushers out your orgasm.
When your lengthy climax finishes, he moves to sigh pleasantly into the crook of your neck. “You’re incredible,” he emits with a chant of your name, thoroughly relaxing your shaking form.
“Fuck, take off your clothes,” you beg. He immediately abides by your command, tearing off his shirt and pants. You grab his necklaces to haul his lips to yours. You savour every inch of yourself on his tongue, and he relishes in how dirty the act is.
“There’s only so much I can do before dawn, and it won't nearly be enough to satisfy my hunger for you.” His poetic words erupt something within. You exhale, “It seems you’re going to break your promise then.”
He stills at your words, befuddled. You elaborate, “There’s no way I’m coming out of this unscathed.” A timid smile spreads across your face, and he almost nods in understanding, feeling a strange quiver in his chest.
Wordlessly, he pulls himself from his slacks, and you take off the last of your clothes. Suddenly feeling a little out of body, you decide to take back some control of the situation. So, you flip your positions, once again, surprising Klaus, though he allows it.
You straddle him, and lower yourself onto his thick cock. You whimper the second the tip enters, and he growls, pressing his fingertips into your hips, definitely leaving bruises.
“You’re too big,” you gasp.
“You can handle it, sweetheart,” he states mindlessly. He wraps his arms around your waist and arms, pulling you down onto him. His hips press completely into you, pushing himself inside to the hilt. A wheeze leaves your lungs as he grounds into you. “Klaus, it’s too-“
“It’s perfect,” he finishes for you. You barely have any time to adapt to his size before he begins pounding. Pleasure wracks through you, and he takes whatever control you had away. His pace is unnerving, and you utter incoherent words, while his fangs graze your neck.
“Tell me,” he groans through his panting. “Tell me you want me.” He demands, though it almost sounds like he’s begging for it. “I-I want you.” The words stumble out as his thrusts reach your center.
“More,” he just about whines.
“I want you Klaus,” you shout. “You feel so good- fuck I’ve always wanted this, you.” You ramble, egged on by him. He loves it, and you feel it in his strength. He holds you tighter, and the air abandons your body.
Feeling his leg tremble, you know he’s close. “Bite me.” His clamped-shut eyelids pop open, and his dark pupils bore into yours. You kiss him, and take his bottom lip between your teeth. “Bite me while you cum,” you command.
He gulps before taking his last few pumps into you. He moans into your neck as his teeth puncture your flesh. You cry out at the mixture of pain and pleasure that shatters you both.
After almost 10 minutes, he releases you from his firm caress and kisses the holes in your neck.
Still inside, he turns you both on your sides. You catch your breath. “How are you still hard?” You sigh in exasperation, and he chuckles breezily. “I told you, you’ve bewitched my very soul darling.” He smirks.
“This is only the beginning.”
If you enjoyed this, i'm currently writing a klaus fanfic! it’ll be posted on my wattpad @ shrenvents <33
#klaus#niklaus mikaelson#klaus mikaelson#klaus mikaleson imagine#klaus mikealson x reader#smut#vampire diaries#the originals#tvd#tvd smut#klaus mikaelson smut#klaus mikaelson x y/n#elijah mikaelson smut#the originals smut#tvdu#tvd fanfiction#the vampire diaries#elena gilbert#damon salavatore#stefan salvatore#rebekah mikaelson#katherine pierce#damon salvatore smut#kol mikaelson#hope mikaelson#elijah mikaelson#vampire#hybrid#vampire smut#twilight
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Thinking about a arranged marriage, in which darling denies their spouse any opportunity to touch them. For reader, they have no reason to believe this would ever be a equal relationship. They believed, if they serviced their spouse well, and played the part of a dutiful partner, they would be able to lead a comfortable life without any unnecessary drama or hurt feelings on their end.
Of course they didn’t take into account how absolutely obsessed their spouse is with them, and how much pain their in each time their denied the chance to touch their darling.
Every intimate act between the couple, the darling does all the work. Weather it be quick services with their mouth or body, as soon as their spouse finishes the darling hops off and makes their way back to their room to take care of their own needs or read a new book. And their spouse is fucking devastated each and every time.
Their fingers grip their darlings shoulder or hair, savoring that moment of contact before their orgasm hits and the warmth of their love leaves them for the remainder of the night. No aftercare, no kisses, and worst of all, they don’t get to see their darling cum. Ever.
“Darling…? If it’s not too much to ask..”
“Yes my love?”
And they’d shiver at the hollow endearment.
“Well..perhaps we could engage in some more intimacy tonight…? I could-“
“Ah.” And their darling would pause, bringing a hand to rub their jaw tenderly. “Well, my jaw is still a little sore from last time, but if you wish I can certainly help you again.”
“N..No..I mean, I could..I could take care of you…tonight…”
“Oh. That won’t be necessary my dear.”
And god how their heart fucking breaks at that, brows furrowing nervously as they try to resist the temptation to fall to their knees and beg. Beg to taste their darlings flesh and finally feel their lips pressed against their own. Their eyes nearly well with tears, the untamed desire burning them to the core. Their darling was so cruel to them.
“But I insist, I can-“
“Do not worry my love. I’ll take care of you tonight so you won’t be so stressed for your meeting tomorrow. Or if you’d like I could find you more suitable company for the night?”
The repulsion in their body would nearly make their stomach swell with nausea at the mere idea of laying in bed with another that wasn’t their beloved darling.
“I’m…No thank you, my love.”
And you, the silly little darling won’t understand why your spouse seems so disheartened. You’d been the perfect partner, anyone’s dream. You kept to yourself, did what you were asked. They never had to care for you needs or wants beyond your allowance and the occasional outing.
You could admit you were married to a very attractive and respectable figure. Known for their kindness and intelligence. You considered yourself lucky as to deal with someone so agreeable.
And there were times you wished for a warm body besides yours in the dead of night. Someone to lay upon after you’ve both been spent.
But that vulnerability was too scary for yourself. Fear that your heart would hurt more if you let yourself feel the pain of neglect after. So, this arrangement you’d crafted for yourself would have to do.
Well, until the night you’d found your depraved lovers head buried between your thighs, moaning like a starved fool.
What a sight to awaken too.
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mark me yours - OSCAR PIASTRI
pairing : oscar piastri x gf!reader
summary : biting has weirdly always been a part of y/n's love language, what happens when she bites oscar where he's a little bit more than just sensitive?
warnings/notes : swearing, smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), sub!oscar, creampie, biting, marking kink, hickies, oral (m!receiving), edging, handjob, praise kink,degrading kink, name calling, begging, humiliation kink, cum play, multiple orgasms, slight dacryphilia, use of "good boy"
word count : 3.0k
a/n : i have a thing for submissive men i fear (this is so self indulgent)
main masterlist | kinktober masterlist
Y/n and Oscar were playfighting on the living room floor, laughing and giggling as they tumbled around. Suddenly, Y/n leaned in and planted a small, innocent bite on Oscar's neck. However, she had unknowingly found a sensitive spot, causing him to let out a sharp gasp.
Startled by his reaction, Y/n pulled back, her eyes wide with concern. "Oh my god, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.
Oscar, still reeling from the unexpected sensation, couldn't help but let out a soft moan. "Yeah, I'm fine," he managed to say, his voice slightly strained. "It just felt really intense for a moment there."
Y/n bit her lip, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Really? Well, maybe we should explore that a little more," she suggested, leaning in once again.
She grinned, enjoying the effect she was having on Oscar. She continued to suck and nibble on his neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive spot with each bite. Oscar's breathing grew heavier, and he couldn't help but let out a whimper as she bit down harder.
"Jesus fuck, are you a vampire or something?" he gasped, trying to mask the pleasure he was feeling. His body trembled slightly, and he could feel his heart racing in his chest.
Y/n chuckled, her hot breath tickling his skin. "Maybe I am," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Or maybe you're just sensitive."
She continued her assault on his neck, alternating between gentle kisses and sharp bites. Each time she found that sensitive spot, Oscar couldn't help but moan, his body responding to her touch in ways he hadn't expected.
Y/n's fingers deftly worked at the hem of Oscar's hoodie, pulling it up and over his head. She tossed it aside, revealing his toned chest and abs. Her eyes roamed over his body, taking in every inch of exposed skin.
"Mmm, look at you," she purred, her hands trailing down his chest. "So strong and sexy."
Oscar shivered at her touch, his muscles tensing as her fingers explored his body. He couldn't believe how turned on he was getting from something so simple.
Y/n leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "I wonder what other sensitive spots I can find on you," she whispered, her hot breath sending shivers down his spine.
Her hands continued their exploration, moving lower and lower until they reached the waistband of his jeans. With a swift motion, she unbuttoned them and slid her hand inside, palming his growing erection through his boxers.
Y/n guided Oscar to the couch, her hands firmly grasping his hips. Once he was seated, she knelt down in front of him, her fingers hooking into the waistband of his boxers. Slowly, she pulled them down, revealing his hard, throbbing member.
"Oh, looks like someone's excited," she teased, her eyes locked onto his manhood. She wrapped her hand around his shaft, giving it a few gentle strokes.
Oscar let out a low groan, his head falling back against the couch cushions. He couldn't believe how good her touch felt, and he was already aching for more.
Y/n leaned in, her tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock. She swirled her tongue around the head, tasting the salty pre-cum that had gathered there. Then, she took him into her mouth, her lips wrapping around his shaft as she began to bob her head up and down.
Oscar's moans and whines grew louder as Y/n's skilled mouth worked on his throbbing member. She pulled away for a moment, leaving him panting and desperate for more.
"Look at you, so needy and desperate," she taunted, her hand continuing to stroke his shaft. "You're like a bitch in heat, aren't you?"
Oscar couldn't even form a coherent response, his mind clouded with lust and desire. He could only nod and whimper, his hips bucking into her hand as she continued to tease him.
Y/n smirked, enjoying the power she held over him. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear. "Beg for it," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. "Beg for me to take you back into my mouth."
Oscar's heart raced at her words, his body trembling with anticipation. "Please," he begged, his voice hoarse with desire. "Please, I need you. I need your mouth on me."
Y/n's hand slowed to a torturous pace, her fingers barely grazing Oscar's sensitive skin. She could feel him squirming beneath her touch, his desperation growing with each passing second.
"Please, Y/n," he begged, his voice cracking with need. "I can't take it anymore. I need you so badly."
She chuckled, her breath hot against his skin. "What was that? I didn't quite catch that."
Oscar's hips bucked upwards, seeking more friction. "Please, I'm begging you. Take me into your mouth again. I need to feel your lips around me. I'll do anything, just please don't stop."
Y/n's eyes gleamed with satisfaction at his desperate pleas. She loved seeing him so worked up, so completely at her mercy. She leaned in, her tongue flicking out to tease the tip of his cock.
"Since you asked so nicely," she purred, before taking him back into her mouth, her lips sealing around his shaft as she began to bob her head once more.
As Y/n's lips and tongue worked their magic, Oscar couldn't hold back the loud, slutty moans that escaped his lips. The sound of his own voice, so desperate and needy, only served to heighten his arousal.
Y/n smiled against his cock, feeling it twitch in response to his moans. She planted soft kisses along the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, her lips trailing up and down its length.
Oscar covered his face with his hands, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he tried to process the overwhelming sensations coursing through his body. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he got closer and closer to the edge.
"Fuck, Y/n," he gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. "I'm gonna cum. Oh god, you're gonna make me cum."
Y/n picked up the pace, her mouth and hand working in tandem to bring him to the brink. She could feel him throbbing against her tongue, his body tensing as he prepared for his release.
Oscar's whines and moans grew louder and more desperate as Y/n's mouth and hand worked tirelessly on his throbbing cock. His body trembled with each stroke of her tongue, his hips bucking upwards as he sought more friction.
"Oh god, Y/n," he panted, his voice hoarse with pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop. I'm so close, I can feel it."
Y/n could sense his impending orgasm, and she doubled her efforts, her lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to push him over the edge. She could feel his cock pulsing against her tongue, his body tensing as he neared his climax.
As Oscar's orgasm hit, Y/n felt his cock pulse and twitch in her mouth. She continued to suck and stroke him through his climax, her cheeks hollowing as she worked to milk every last drop of his cum.
When he finally finished, she pulled back, his spent member slipping from her lips. She held his gaze as she opened her mouth, revealing the thick, creamy load she had collected.
Slowly, she straddled his thighs, leaning in to press her lips against his in a deep, passionate kiss. As their tongues met, she allowed some of his cum to transfer into his mouth, forcing him to taste himself.
Oscar moaned into the kiss, his hands coming up to grip her hips. He could taste his own essence on her tongue, the flavor both strange and arousing. He knew he should feel embarrassed, but all he could focus on was the intense pleasure coursing through his veins.
As their tongues continued to dance, Oscar's hands shook as he gripped Y/n's waist. He could feel the heat of her body pressing against his, and he craved more.
"Take your clothes off," he whispered against her lips, his voice rough with desire. "I want to feel you, all of you."
Y/n smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She sat back, slowly peeling off her shirt to reveal her perky breasts, clad in a lacy black bra. Oscar's eyes widened, his mouth watering at the sight.
She unhooked her bra, letting it fall away to expose her bare chest. Her nipples were hard and erect, begging for attention. Oscar reached up, his fingers grazing her sensitive peaks, eliciting a soft gasp from her lips.
Y/n then stood up, shimmying out of her jeans and panties in one fluid motion. She kicked them aside, leaving her completely naked before him. Oscar drank in the sight of her, his cock already beginning to stir once more.
Y/n straddled Oscar's thighs once more, her naked body pressing against his. She captured his lips in a searing kiss, her hands roaming over his chest and abs.
"You're such a good boy," she purred between kisses, her fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. "So obedient and eager to please."
She nipped at his bottom lip, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh. "But you're also such a dirty slut, aren't you? Begging for my touch, craving my attention like a desperate whore."
Oscar moaned into her mouth, his hips bucking upwards to meet her. He couldn't deny the truth in her words; he was completely under her spell, willing to do anything for her touch.
Y/n's hand trailed down his stomach, her fingers wrapping around his hardening cock. She stroked him slowly, teasingly, her thumb swirling around the tip.
Y/n's hand moved in slow, torturous strokes along Oscar's shaft, her grip firm but not too tight. She could feel him throbbing in her palm, his body trembling with each movement of her hand.
"Shh, it's okay," she cooed, her lips brushing against his ear. "You're doing so well, being such a good boy for me."
Oscar whimpered, his hips bucking upwards in search of more friction. He wanted to beg her for more, to plead with her to let him cum, but he knew better than to disobey her.
"If you're patient and keep being a good boy," she promised, her voice low and seductive, "I'll let you cum soon. Just keep trusting me, and I'll give you everything you need."
She continued her slow, agonizing handjob, her thumb teasing the sensitive head of his cock. Oscar's breathing grew ragged, his chest heaving with each labored breath. He could feel the pressure building inside him, his orgasm hovering just out of reach.
Y/n's hand remained steady, maintaining the slow, torturous pace that was driving Oscar wild with need. As she watched him squirm beneath her touch, she noticed the tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.
"Aww, look at you," she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Are those tears I see? Good boys don't cry, you know."
Oscar bit his lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape. He knew she was right, and he didn't want to disappoint her. But the pleasure was so intense, so overwhelming, that he could barely think straight.
"That's it, be a good boy," she encouraged, her hand never faltering in its rhythm. "Keep fighting those tears, and I might just reward you for your efforts."
Oscar nodded, his eyes squeezed shut as he focused on controlling his emotions. He could feel his orgasm building, the pressure inside him reaching a fever pitch. He just needed to hold on a little longer, to prove to her that he was worthy of her praise.
As Oscar's moans grew louder and more desperate, Y/n could sense his impending orgasm. She increased the speed of her strokes, her hand flying over his shaft in a blur of motion.
Just as he was about to reach his peak, she abruptly released his cock, her hand pulling away entirely. Oscar's eyes snapped open, his mouth falling agape in shock and disbelief.
"No!" he cried out, his voice cracking with desperation. "No, please don't stop. I was so close, please..."
He reached for her hand, trying to guide it back to his aching member, but she swatted his hand away. She smirked down at him, her eyes glinting with sadistic pleasure.
Y/n's eyes locked with Oscar's as she grasped his cock, positioning it at her entrance. Slowly, teasingly, she lowered herself onto him, her wet heat enveloping his throbbing member inch by delicious inch.
Oscar gasped at the sensation, his hands flying to her hips as he fought the urge to thrust upwards. She felt incredible, her walls hugging his cock like a velvet glove.
Once she was fully seated, Y/n paused, savoring the feeling of being so perfectly filled. She rolled her hips, grinding against him in a slow, sensual rhythm.
"Mmm, you feel so good inside me," she purred, her nails digging into his chest. "I could stay like this forever, just feeling you stretch me open."
Oscar moaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. He couldn't believe the torture she was putting him through, the way she was teasing him with her body. He wanted to pound into her, to claim her as his own, but he knew better than to disobey her commands.
Y/n began to ride him in earnest, her hips rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She leaned forward, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin of his neck as she left a trail of bites and hickies in her wake.
Oscar groaned, his head falling back against the couch cushions as he surrendered to the pleasure. Each bite sent a jolt of electricity through his body, heightening his senses and making every thrust feel even more intense.
Y/n's nails raked down his chest, leaving red lines in their wake. She could feel his cock twitching inside her, could sense his impending release. But she wasn't ready for it to end yet.
With a wicked grin, she climbed off of him, leaving him empty and aching. She turned around, presenting her ass to him as she bent over the arm of the couch.
"Come and get it," she challenged, looking back at him over her shoulder. "Show me how much you want me."
Oscar's eyes darkened with lust as he took in the sight before him. Y/n's perfect ass was on display, her pussy glistening with their combined juices. Without hesitation, he moved behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he positioned himself at her entrance.
With one hard thrust, he buried himself inside her once more, groaning at the exquisite feeling of her tight heat enveloping him. He set a brutal pace, pounding into her with abandon as he chased his release.
Y/n cried out, her fingers gripping the couch cushions tightly as she pushed back against him. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with their moans and grunts of pleasure.
"Yes, just like that," she panted, her voice strained with ecstasy. "Fuck me harder, make me yours."
Oscar obliged, his hips snapping forward with each powerful thrust. He could feel his orgasm building, his balls tightening as he neared the edge. But he held back, determined to make her cum first.
Y/n's moans grew louder and more urgent as Oscar continued to pound into her. She could feel her own orgasm approaching, her body tensing as the waves of pleasure washed over her.
"Please, let me cum inside you," Oscar begged, his voice raw with desperation. "I've been such a good boy, I promise. I just need to feel you, all of you."
Y/n's eyes rolled back in her head as she teetered on the brink of ecstasy. She could feel Oscar's cock throbbing inside her, his movements becoming more erratic as he struggled to hold back his own release.
"Cum with me," she demanded, her voice a husky whisper. "I want to feel you cum inside of me."
As their orgasms crashed over them, Oscar sank his teeth into Y/n's neck, muffling his own moans of pleasure. The sensation of his teeth breaking her skin sent a fresh wave of ecstasy through her body, and she cried out in response.
Their bodies convulsed in unison, their fluids mixing as they rode out the intense waves of their shared climax. Oscar's hips continued to thrust, drawing out their pleasure for as long as possible.
Finally, they collapsed together on the couch, their bodies entwined and slick with sweat. Oscar's teeth released her neck, and he nuzzled into her hair, his breathing ragged and uneven.
As the aftershocks of their intense orgasms subsided, Oscar began to mutter words of gratitude and appreciation. His voice was hoarse and raw, filled with emotion.
"Holy shit, that was incredible," he breathed, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on Y/n's skin. "Thank you so much, you're amazing."
Y/n smiled, turning her head to capture his lips in a tender kiss. "You're welcome," she murmured against his mouth. "And you did so well, being such a good boy for me."
She pulled away from the kiss, a playful smirk on her face. "Why did you bite me?" she asked, her fingers gently probing the spot where his teeth had broken her skin.
Oscar looked sheepish, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself," he confessed. "It was like my body took control, and I needed to do something to keep from screaming."
He grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, if you're going to point out the bite on your neck, you should probably take a look at mine," he teased, tilting his head to the side.
Y/n's eyes widened as she took in the sight of his neck, covered in a patchwork of bites and hickies. Some were still red and angry, while others had begun to bruise.
"Wow, I really went to town on you, didn't I?" she laughed, her fingers tracing the marks on his skin. "You're lucky you're so cute, or else you'd have some explaining to do."
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‘Sweet thing’
Hare! original character x bunny! male reader
warnings: predator prey dynamic,humping, overstim, mind break (kinda), breeding, slight dubcon, naive innocent reader, size kink, scent kink, creampie
notes: this idea has been stuck in my head for too long lmfao I rly went down the rabbit hole writing this 💀
You were a sweet thing, a bunny bred to be docile and kept at home like the naive creature you were! Your owner was extremely protective, never allowing you to go out and always pampering you with treats and pets!! You were the perfect house pet. However, always being at home was so boring and dull. Sure, being fawned over by your owner was always enjoyable but you wanted to be like other bunnies! Why shouldn’t a grown-up bunny like you also be able to go out and explore the huge world? All you had was a small town where you and your owner lived in, nearby meadows. There were so many delicacies you hadn’t tried yet, like wild carrots or apples! All the food you had at home were just leafy greens and pellets…so you had to formulate a plan immediately!! Sure, your owner might be a tad bit worried or maybe even disappointed but you would just go for a quick trip into the meadows nearby, only a few hours you swore!
Hence, your plan began. No better time to slip out when your owner was busy at work. Full of excitement and anticipation, you quickly jumped out of the window onto the pavement. The fields were so close! You quickly hopped your way to the meadows where the other bunnies promised there would be the precious apples and food you had dreamed about. Hungry and ecstatic, you finally arrived but the delicious food that was spoken about was nowhere in sight… you were starving! Maybe this was a bad idea, you shouldn’t have gone out, your owner was going to be so angry… Not only was the pristine and white fur they loved so much now dirtied, you were a disobedient bunny who ran away because you were too greedy…
Tears began to form in your eyes as you thought about the disappointment in their eyes and how they probably wouldn’t love such a naughty bunny anymore… You were such a silly thing, knowing nothing of the world and yet you still wanted to explore! Hours went by, and you grew tired of wallowing in your misery, it was night now anyways, it was time to finally go home even if your owner would be unhappy. At least you had a roof and a warm bed to sleep in! Trudging through the tall grass, you tried to retrace the steps you took but it was too dark. The inky darkness filled your vision as panic began to fill your heart. How were you supposed to go home now?! Oh no…you could feel the waterworks starting again. However before you could even burst into tears, your ears picked up rustling in the grass behind you.
Without a single thought left in your brain, you immediately darted in the opposite direction of whatever monster was stalking you in the night. Fear clouded your senses as you felt a shiver go down your spine. What horrors were hidden in the night? You didn’t want to know! You really should have stayed home but now there whatever was hunting you! Unfortunately you began to tire, your hunger and outbursts having sapped your energy, but you could still hear the loud thumps of whatever chasing you get closer and closer, their hot breath on your nape. Your pace slowed and the creature tackled you. Clenching your eyes shut, you willed yourself still and accepted your fate.
You could feel something caress your cheek. “Open your eyes bunny.” A domineering voice commanded you and you meekly peeked one eye out to see a massive hare over your form. He was huge! Both in muscle and size, he overwhelmed your tiny body. You didn’t stand a single chance against him. “What d-do you want, Mister Hare… I-I just want to go home..” you trembled, the stutters in your voice unable to hide your fear. A low chuckle reverberated from him, “Oh you naive thing, I just want to eat you up. You’ve been in my territory since afternoon and emitting that sweet scent. A tiny creature like you should be protected but you just happened to chance upon me, what a pity.” Hearing his words, your suspicions were further confirmed. You were never getting home and a big bad hare now wanted to eat you. You went slack, what could you even do now… “O-okay, Mr Hare, just make it quick… I don’t want to be eaten painfully and slowly…” you were ready, this would be how you went…
“You misunderstood me bunny. I’m not eating you up literally, I’m going to breed you so you reek of me all over like my property.” Confusion filled your face but not long before you felt him grind against your pelvis. Oh. He meant that… Forgetting your initial terror, you immediately flushed red. You had never done this before..and your owner forbid it, saying something along the lines of “I’m not ready to be a father”. Wait, but you were both males, how could you both mate?! Your obvious inexperience and bewilderment must have been evident because Mr Hare laughed again. “It doesn’t matter if you’re male, there’s still a hole, you silly thing.” He grunted. Not waiting for your reply, he hoisted you onto his lap, the curve of your ass now rubbing against his huge bulge.
You could feel the copious amounts of precum wet the thin shorts your owner had insisted on giving you for the sake of “propriety” and yep there they went, as Mr Hare ripped them off. A whimper escaped you as the friction of his cock rubbing against your perineum sent sensations you had never felt before running through your body. “Uagh-?!” A surprised moan ripped from your throat as you could feel something thick fill your hole. His fingers were in you! You felt his fingers graze something in you that made you clutch at his shoulders in a fit of pleasure. A knowing smirk appeared on his face and he repeatedly jabbed at the spot, “I found your prostrate.” He snickered.
“N-nng- ah! T-too much!!” You keened as you buried your face in his shoulders, your body spasming at his relentless teasing of your prostrate. Shortly after, a loud sob left you as your cock squirted all over your stomach, leaving you limp. “Can’t have you weak before I breed you bunny.” Mr Hare clamoured as he left a chaste kiss on your lips, a sharp contrast to his rough man handling. Pushing you into a mating press, the head of his throbbing dick pushed at your weakly twitching rim. Glancing down at his cock, terror filled you at the size of his dick, that was monstrous!! “N-no, wait it won’t f- AGH” Before you could protest, he sharply thrusted into you as you wailed out in shock at the sudden intrusion.
Growling, the hare left no chance for you to complain as he snapped his hips against yours repeatedly like he was a man possessed. “You really are so tiny, look at your small excuse of a cock bunny…you deserve a good breeding..” he teased as his cock plunged into you. Endless whines left you as the onslaught of pleasure left you orgasming over and over again. You could only weep as Mr Hare painted your insides white without an end in sight. “P-please sir, it’s too m-mu-much!” You pleaded but your pleas for him to stop fell on deaf ears. “Gh- just gotta give you one more load one more bunny, gotta make you full of my cum.” He murmured as he grasped at your waist tightly. Oh that was sure to bruise tomorrow. Teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, you could only mindlessly mewl in response as another dry orgasm wracked your body.
The sun was rising and you were a sight to be seen. Eyes rolled in a dry orgasm as you unconsciously grinded back on the hare pistoning away at you, a mess in your own bodily fluids and the semen dripping from your abused hole. Unable to take anymore abuse, you blacked out and before you slipped into the welcome embrace of the darkness, you could feel yourself getting cradled and picked up and a kiss pressed to your dry lips.
You were definitely never gonna go out again.
note: why does no one ever talk about how hard it is to write smut OMG 😭😭 I legit spent an hour stressing over what to write so it sounded stimulating enough and legit 😞 anyways take this pathetic piece pls have mercy lol its like my first time writing smut (despite the fact I read smut 😭🙏)
Reblogs are appreciated :) if you want a part 2 lmk!
Pt 2 is here : Mates (Sweet Thing Pt.2)
#sub male reader#bottom male reader#x original character#mlm ns/fw#male reader smut#mlm#smut drabble#male reader#uke male reader
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The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 1:
Yandere Bully Forces Nerdy You to be His
[I hope you all enjoy my first semi-series on here!]
[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]
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Everyone at your high school knew that it was best to avoid Blake.
The upperclassman was a bully, plain and simple. He had a habit of beating people down if they dared get in his way, or even if they just looked at him in a manner he didn't appreciate.
You were on the complete opposite of the spectrum: a grade-A nerd. You were a goody two-shoes to boot, always volunteering after school and helping your fellow classmates study whenever they struggled with a subject. The captain of the Mathletes team and one of the star columnists in the school newspaper, you were the epitome of nerd.
However, even with your good nature, you avoided Blake as best as you could, fearful that you'd face his wrath and have him beat your face into a pulp. You'd heard the stories, and you'd seen enough teen movies to know that bullies and nerds do not mix, at all.
Unfortunately, one Friday morning, you walked out of the front door to your house to head towards the bus stop-- but you immediately froze when Blake was in your driveway, leaning casually against his car.
"Bl-Blake?" you coughed out in surprise. "What are you doing--"
Blake just grunted and opened up the passenger side door, gesturing at it. When you didn't make a move, his frown deepened on his face.
"Get in!" he barked, the forcefulness of his deep voice making you jump.
Afraid of making the bully even angrier, you scurried over towards the car and practically leapt inside. "Um, wh-where are we going?" you trembled as soon as Blake got in and started to drive off down the street.
Blake cocked his eyebrow at you in confusion. "School," he scoffed, as if it should've been obvious.
You wanted to ask why the school bully was driving you to school, but you were too concerned with how he placed his arm over your small shoulders in the tight confines of the car.
You were stunned silent at first, but then something popped into your head that you couldn't ignore.
"How did you know where I live?" you asked Blake, your voice small and barely audible over the loud music playing over the speakers.
"Huh?" Blake asked, turning the volume down a bit before shaking his head. "Don't worry about it."
"B-but..."
Blake turned the volume back up, effectively silencing you. You kept your lips pursed for the rest of the drive to school, anxiety seeping out of your every pore. When Blake finally parked in the parking lot, you thought about bolting as fast as you could, but your legs were like jelly.
You nearly crawled out of the car and cautiously began to walk towards the entrance when a tight visegrip swallowed your hand.
Blake interlocked his fingers with yours, giving you a sneer when you attempted to pull away. He was much stronger than you, and when you kept trying, he leaned down closer to your ear.
Thanks to his proximity, a lot of the other students began to gawk at the two of you, their eyes widening and many of them murmuring to another as they saw the school bully holding hands with the nerdiest person in class.
"You're smart," Blake smirked as he whispered in your ear, "so I need you to comprehend this: You're mine."
A cold shiver traveled down your spine, and you tried to pull away once more; but Blake was much stronger than you, and he gave you a rough tug, making you topple into him.
"That's one," Blake sneered, even holding up one of his fingers to count. "When I get to three, I'll have to punish you. So make sure you behave and be my sweet little angel, got it?"
Swallowing hard, you nodded, fearful of what was in store for you.
To be continued...
#yandere boyfriend#yandere boy#yandere daddy#yandere x reader#yandere x you#obsessive love#possessive boyfriend#yandere bully#yandere bad boy#bad boy#bad boy x nerd#nerd you#Blake#my oc#Blake the Bully
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Summary: After Task Force 141 got a hint that you gave important information to their enemy- the boys do not hesitate to chain you up and give you a taste of hell. You on the other hand are innocent but they do not believe you
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Platonic Task Force 141! x Fem!Reader (Simon Ghost Riley x Reader) a/n: pretty proud of that ngl.. enjoy guys love you!
Warnings: uhm this whole fic is basically a warning. Torture; Blood; Mental Health; Angst angst angst not proof read
genre: ANGST
+ 1,6k words
part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6
You thought you were going insane.
Maybe you already were, but it was no suprise- seeing the circumstances you were in. Arms stretched uncomfortably backwards and up- chains rubbing your wrists painfully raw. The stress position Soap put you in wasn't easy peasy lemonsqueezy.
Tears brimming in your eyes at the thought. You felt fucking betrayed. You were fucking betrayed, for gods sake! by your own team- the people you cried with- the people that you loved more than yourself- the people you called your family. That one man you took a bullet for.
Fuck all that bullshit.
Those were the same people that didn't believe you when things got rocky. When some pricks pointed their fingers at you- they immediately treated you as an enemy. The same people that chained you up. The same man that made you fucking blind on one eye
Everything was a lie, apparently.
The cell you were in was shady- you didn't expect something different- i mean you just served the military for many years and did everything for your country- of course you didn't deserve something more decent.
In the end you didn't care. Just waited.
When Gaz interrogated you- you kept your mouth shut. What should you do? Lie? Fuck no, you had so much self respect left, even in this dehumanizing situation.
of course your facade broke often times- you were only human after all. And it hurt- you were in this situation before- tortured by your enemies knowing that you would probably outlive them anyway as your team would rip them apart in a few days.
But now- being here- seeing how your 'friends'- your family- spat at you with nothing more than hate made you feel even more miserable- knowing, that no one will safe you this time.
You cried- having panick attacks deep into countless nights-being triggered by any small sound that wasn't coming from you or that rat in the corner of the room. Yelling at them- telling them that you didn't do shit. They didn't believe you.
Spiraling deep in your thoughts- shoulders sore and numb hands from the stress position- still tasting a faint trace of your own blood-
the sensory of the dried up blood on your cheek was uncomfortable at the beginning- cracking everytime you opened your mouth- but it quickly got kicked to the bottom of your worries as Price's wodden bat flew into your face yesterday- tooth flying onto the ground as you spat the crimson liquid at his feet- earning another strike from your Captain.
Your Saliva turning pink with the blood, sticking to your chin- slowly dripping down- having no free hand to wipe it off.
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You were here for about 1 and a half weeks now- how'd you know that? because you could hear the guards mutter something behind that steal door.
You shivered, suffering from hypothermia, a consequence of being almost naked in this shithole. Simon himself stripped you down- ignoring your pleas and protests.
Simon.
The man you did everything for, took a bullet for, cared for and slept with. He was the love of your life- or so you thought.
You were never scared of Simon. Since the first day you met him- you were kinda drawn to that giant of a man. Always spawning in his near with hearts in your eyes- Soap always made fun of you- but he found it cute neverthless, he could see that Simon didn't hate you.
You stitched him up- knew his fears (being a therapists daughter was quite a help for having deep convos), you knew of his past- even if it took you years to finally break his many iron walls down
You saw his face- kissed his scars and showered him with your time and love- giving him your all- even your body.
You weren't in a relationship- but everybody knew that Simon 'Ghost' Riley liked you. Even if you didn't tell anybody from the Force.
In the end it seemed not be enough, as the same man nearly strangled you to death down here. At first you were desperate, scared- but you stopped pleading a long time ago.
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heavy footsteps shook you out of your trance- spiraling thoughts stopping for a mere second as you looked into his stone cold eyes.
Balaklava on his scarred face- making you inhale sharply- heart throbbing at his sight. The black paint around his eyes made them pierce through the dark even more.
The same paint you applied more than once onto his unique face. he looked beautiful in your eyes. Even after everything that happened.
You're in here since a few nights.- Clothes starting to hang loosely around your body- having not eaten in days.
"Simon-" you croaked out- voice not cooperating as it should- making you tear up. When did everything turned out to be like that? This nightmare? You flinched a bit- chains clinking softly at your slight movement when he came towards you- still not speaking.
He stared. Stared at your weak frame. The dark hole you were chained into- being in a constant state of fear- Anxiety pulling and clawing at your nerves.
You gritted your teeth- looking to the side with a defeated huff. Tears prickling in your eyes once more- threatening to fall as he watched you like you were a kicked stray dog. Maybe you were in their eyes.
"I-" you croaked out once more "I didn't do it, Simon, i swear" you whispered into the dimmly lit room- Still not looking at him. "I swear to god Simon, I didn't.." you weeped in silence as he just looked "Fuck why should I betray you!!" you screamed in frustration at his figure- tears falling as he only left- leaving you in complete darkness- letting you cry to yourself till you eventually passed out.
.
Not even two day passed before he bursted through the iron door again- the loud sound ripping you out of your unconsciousness before he angrily grabbed you by your collar- hate flickering in those eyes that once held nothing but adoration for you.
"You fuckin' liar" he seethed through gritted teeth- behind that mask. Pushing you into the wall behind you- your head knocking against the brick wall with such a force that made you wince.
You could feel his anger. And you felt the danger that radiated from the man you gave your heart to.
His hands coming up to press against your jugular with a firm grip- picking you up a few inches into the air- chains clinking again. "Y'think you hav' it in you to lie into my fuckin' face" he growled while pressing down harder- you could feel yourself getting more lightheaded- gasping for air- choking for oxygen.
"Plea' Simon" you begged inbetween small gasps- scared what he will do to you. Hands tied together, wiggling in his painful hold like a suffocating fish- legs kicking to get him away from you- it worked- you gasped, trying to get in as much air as you could while your built up saliva ran down your chin-
he let you go for a second before his fist collided with your face. Hard- knocking the air out of your lungs once more "Jus' tell us the truth" he huffed, before hitting again- at first it hurt and then it burned. Your nose cracked under his fists-
Making you see stars and breath heavily before he took the knife out you gifted him for his birthday. Both your names engraved in it-
"'t will be easier for you" he said before popping the knife out of its sheath. "No, Simon" you cried out- whilst seeing the blade. "You don't have to do this" you gasped as he came dangerously close.
"No,no,no!!" you protested as he teared down your clothing, leaving you in a bra and your underwear. Feeling helpless as he teared down your clothes- ignoring your protest. The coldness of the room let goosebumps arise on your skin almost immediately.
He was quiet. That wasn't a good sign. You waited- staring at him, pulling at your chains as he looked at the blade. Fist tightening as he saw the little heart that was engraved into the hilt. Betrayal flushed his senses as he pushed the knife into your upper leg- making you scream in return.
Twisting the knife- hearing your agony but not stopping- he quickly hit you into your left eye socket with the hilt of the knife to shut you up. he didn't want to hear your screams.
Even if he didn't wanted to admit it- he was also teared apart- but his need to let his anger out was stronger - all the time he spent with a fucking liar- gave you his fucked up heart. All for you to be a fucking snake- a traitor.
He had to do his job- protect his family.
Another jab to the eye- hearing your muffled cries echo across the room- making you see red- the burning sensation was an ugly one. You couldn't see on that eye anymore.
"I fuckin' wish I could just kill you" he seethed before leaving you there in the dark- all beat up and bloody- head throbbing and surely a broken nose- making it hard to breath.
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You waited since then. Waiting for death to come. Waiting for Ghost to end it- but of course he never came back since then. Your wounds were starting to inflame- everything hurt and burned. Your eye swelling almost shut.
They all tortured you. Johnny, Kyle, John and Simon.
But they forgot something important. You were known for being patient. A fucking patient and stubborn woman. You waited. Yes you sometimes protested, and kicked and screamed and insulted them- but you neverthless waited for the day.
The day they finally see that they wronged an innocent. The day you would hurt them. Seek revenge.
Fucking. Revenge.
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!please do reblog! :)
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#simon ghost riley#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley x fem! reader#simon ghost x reader#john price#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley angst#captain price#call of duty modern warfare#traitor!141!reader#traitor!reader#141!reader#task force 141#tf 141#johnny mactavish#captain john price#kyle gaz#kyle gaz garrick#Tw stabbing#tw violence#tw cursing#tw hypothermia#tw toxic behavior#tw weightloss#tw blood#tw torture
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Yandere!Shapeshifter x Reader
Featuring a clueless Reader and the grotesque "dog" she found in a cursed forest, yet this time they're joined by a strange man. Where did he come from, and why does the dog run away whenever he comes by? Content: female reader, dark comedy, monster romance, mildly NSFW [Part 1] | [More Monsters]
You couldn't help but stare a little at the stranger who so persistently knocked on your door. His eyes had a peculiar color - one similar to the little dog who followed you home from your hiking trip. You bit your tongue from saying such nonsense, worrying it might be taken as an insult. He extended his long, bony fingers and lowered a wallet in your open palms. "You must've dropped this somewhere", he remarked with feigned worry. "I used the address on your ID card."
Whatever initial suspicion weighed on your shoulders had instantly dispersed into thin air. You thanked the man profusely, and invited him in for a drink. "Careful with my dog, he's-" you begun warning, but the quadruped creature was nowhere to be seen. Mysterious. You led the benevolent soul into your living room with a smile.
One thing led to another, and the polite meetings for coffee turned into steamy nights in the retreat of your bedroom. Around the same time you stopped having your bizarre wet dreams involving some deformed monstrosity ramming into you. Perhaps a loving partner was all you needed. To your great shock - and delight - the stranger never abandoned you the morning after, unlike all the previous flirts. This is the one, you told yourself. For once, you had company. You had consistency.
Unfortunately, your friends don't agree with you. Your dreamy retellings are met with grimaces and horrified shivers. "He has such an unique appearance", you'll argue. "It's uncanny valley", your friends will counter, embracing themselves in a fearful, shielding manner. They claim he must be yet another curse brought by the damned devil of a hound you keep as a pet.
Every discussion regarding your beloved will turn into a back and forth. "The voice is inhuman. A broken record, as if he's copying the rest of us, with jarring interruptions and words randomly patched together!" You wave your hand in dismissal. "He's just a little shy", you say with a faint blush. You've always had a soft spot for introverts. "He's insane! Last time someone complimented your outfit, he begun chanting at the dinner table!" You puff out a chuckle. "He must be religious, or something", you defend him ardently. No one dares to mention the flickering lights, or the fact that the targeted friend never left the confines of their room after that encounter.
You will admit one thing: your dog seems to avoid this man like the plague. You've never seen the two of them together in a room. Could your friends be right? They do say dogs can sniff out bad people. You shake your head. It can't be. You get out of bed, rub your eyes, and check the time: 2am. The space next to you is empty, sheets ruffled aside. Out of curiosity, you head outside the room and follow the faint light in the kitchen. The stranger stands before the fridge, face smudged red and fingers stained and glossy. He's holding what seems to be a half-chewed heart, probably taken out of the raw organs bag you keep for your dog. "Heh. I see you like late snacking, too", you joke, dragging out a chair. "Pass me the cheese, will ya? But...maybe wash your hands first."
This isn't right. Sure, he's fucking you better than anyone else ever did, and you find his mysterious aura endearing. Yet you can't help the guilt eating at your innards, knowing that your dog cannot coexist with this man. Something has to be done, so you call out your partner and pat the sofa you're sitting on. "We must talk", you tell him. "What might be troubling you", he inquires quietly, frozen in the doorframe. "I'm afraid my pet comes before anything else", you confess. "And he seems to be scared of you...I'm not sure our current situation is sustainable." Ah. That's what it was. The man lets out a whistled laugh, as if remembering something.
His bones begin to break in wet, fluid succession, as coarse fur takes over his skin. He lowers himself to his fours, snout wide open in a sharp, toothy grin. "You mean this dog, yes?"
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere headcanons#yandere imagines#yandere scenarios#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#horror#monster x reader#monster romance#monster boyfriend#terato#teratophillia#monster fucker
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Monster in the dark
Demon x chubby fem!human || chasing, dub-con (almost cnc), breeding, cum play, tail play
There wasn’t anyone in the street. You knew you should have taken the longer path, it took you all around the neighborhood but at least it was always crowded with people shopping, talking, walking around... anything. There were always people there, but instead you choose the fucking short path, going through the less light part of the neighborhood. You hated the dark with passion, but you were in a hurry, your favorite show was about to start and you didn’t want to run into anyone and risk them stopping you.
But apparently you were out of luck. "Hey dude!" Someone called out. You didn’t turn around. You walked faster, trying to get to the end of the long street where at least the lightbulbs weren’t flickering. Your anxiety was spiking, your heartbeat so loud in your ears you were scared someone could sneak up on you. A shiver ran down your spine when a cold breeze blew past you. A bad feeling creeping out on you.
"Hey you! I need a little help!" You turned around trying to decipher if your possible attacker was close enough that you should run faster. You knew you shouldn’t have done that. It was scary movies 101 to never turn around when something was chasing you. But maybe they were hurt or something. Your big heart betrayed you. You turned around completely, but there wasn’t anybody in sight. Just empty space. Confused you kept walking, almost running, but not entirely.
“Hey darling! The one with the cute butt, I need some help!” They called. What? Your anxiety was through the roof. The lightbulbs started to flicker like crazy, some of them even exploding, engulfing the street in darkness. You screamed and started to run as fast as you could. Which wasn’t so fast.
You ran and ran, the street seeming longer than ever. You prayed to whoever was listening to let you make it. To let you run fast enough to get to your house. Then you heard something similar to a growl, a primal sound that made your blood run cold and your body fuel with a fear so profound that it made your insides twist.
"Caught you!" Someone said as you felt a hand closing down on your shoulder. "Why are you running?" You were scared to turn around, but the stranger made you twist your body either way. The sheer force in that one point of contact made your fly or fight response activated. "Don't worry, darling, I just wanna talk."
You turned around and saw nothing. Not a peep. But the hand on your shoulder was there. The voice was there. You could feel it. You could feel a presence there. What the actual fuck. Your heart was going to get out if it kept beating like that.
"Oh, shit, sorry! I forgot humans couldn't see me in this form." And right before your eyes a tall figure appeared. Just like that. There was nothing, and then there was a big as fuck man. So big you have to look up. And up. And up. Your neck hurt from looking at his face. "Better like this, right?" He asked, the black tendrils around his body shimmering as he smirked. His mouth was too big, too wide, he had so many teeth you couldn't even process it. And they were sharp, so fucking sharp. You shivered. "Oh, darling, don't be scared, I'm not gonna eat you." You thought he added maybe under his breath, but your heartbeat was deafening in your ears.
“Wh- what are you?” You got out, your body frozen in place.
“A poor demon who needs your help.” He told you, his face trying to mimic a grin, but contorting in a creepy way, making you shiver.
“With- With what?” You asked, your body sending all kinds of alert signals to your brain.
“With this…” He whispered as he pulled your body against his, his erection rubbing against your stomach. “I need a sweet human pussy to help me with this, and your luscious body looks delicious. Perfect to breed.” He answered, making your blood turn into ice. And your body started to respond, trying to fight his hold, unable to do it.
“No. Stop. Let me go!” You struggled against him, but his hold was too strong.
He turned you around, pressing his front against your back, black tendrils coming around you, caging you. They started to touch every part of you. The tendrils and his hands moving freely over your body, groping your tummy, your tits, your hips, your ass, rubbing your pussy… There wasn’t a centimeter of you that was left untouched by him. You tried to scream, but his hand covered your mouth. “Don’t do that, baby.” That pet name made something inside your brain react. Could it be?
You talked with your demon boyfriend about wanting to try some CNC a couple nights back. He didn’t react to what you said, just kept listening as you listed your personal kinks. But this couldn’t be him, could he? He was a demon, but you never saw him like this. You couldn’t know. Maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe you had a magnet for weird monsters who wanted to fuck you. Fuck. You couldn’t know. What if he wasn’t? What if this stranger fucked you and you realized later it wasn’t your boyfriend. What if a weird monster took advantage of you in the middle of a dark street?
You knew you should have taken the long path.
The anticipation and the fear mixed inside of you, making your stomach drop and your fight response kick in. You bit the hand around your mouth as hard as you could. The monster moaned and rubbed his hard cock against your back. It was so big, too big. There was no way that would fit inside of you.
He used his tendrils to manhandle you into the air, lifting you so his cock rested between your ass cheeks. Your feet didn’t touch the ground, you were completely suspended, at his mercy. You regretted putting on a dress this morning, making his advances so easy now. You felt the cool air hit your rear as he lifted the back of the dress, exposing your almost naked ass.
“Aw! Look at that, you are wearing the prettiest thong. I bet your boyfriend loves it, too bad he’s not going to fuck your pussy tonight. I am.” His voice went so low in tone that it sounded distorted, making your insides tingle. To your shame, making your pussy tingle, too.
He moved the thong aside, pushing two fingers in right away, his claws pointy, dangerous. Your walls contracted against his fingers. “Someone is excited…” You blushed so hard you could feel the blood in your cheeks. “You like it, don’t you? Of course you do, you are a proud monsterfucker, aren’t you? I saw you with that demon boyfriend you have…” He whispered against your ear. You shivered, feeling humiliated as you moaned when his fingers hit your G-spot. “You are so wet and so hot… I’m going to enjoy your slutty pussy.” He teased, a tendril flickering your clit harshly, making you cry out in pain and pleasure.
He didn’t wait, he didn’t care about you or your comfort. He pushed his dick inside of you in a fluid motion. As far as it could go. You could feel he wasn’t fully inside, his dick too big for your human pussy. But he didn’t seem to care about it. He started to fuck you hard and deep, hitting all your sensible places at once as his hands groped your tits over your dress, not caring if you screamed. Shame filled you as your pussy got wetter and wetter around his assault. You tried to struggle, but your forces bleed out every time he hit your G-spot. Fuck.
“Are you going to be a good breeding bitch for me? Are you going to keep fighting as I fill your pretty little cunt with my cum until it overflows?” You moaned, embarrassment filling you as your pussy pulsated around him. “You like that, don’t you? You try to fight but you are enjoying this. You are enjoying to have a monster’s cock deep inside of you.”
“N-no.” You choked out, the moan you let out after made your words pointless. He laughed harder, the movement of his body making his dick go a bit deeper.
“Yes, you do. You love to be a little human cum-dump for me. I bet you’d love if I fucked you harder.” He speeded up, setting a punishing pace that made a chorus of ah ah ah leave your mouth. He didn’t try to cover your mouth anymore, clearly enjoying the sounds you were letting out. You felt like the bitch he called you, enjoying as someone took advantage of you in the middle of the street. Anybody could come and see you there, exposed, being fucked by a monster, acting like his personal fleshlight. His cumdumpster.
���Prepare yourself slutty human, I’m going to cum so deep you are going to taste my cum.” His words were nasty, so dirty you wanted to say something, anything. But instead it made you moan, turning you into a mess.
And then you felt his cum hitting deep inside, so much of it you felt your lower abdomen bloating. “Look at that, you are so full… Poor little human, let me help.” He laughed cruelly, pushing against the bulge there, as cum gushed out of you, trying to escape around the cock still buried inside of you. Some of it came out, making the filthiest sound you ever heard, accompanying his laughter. He pulled out at that moment, his hand still on your abdomen, making a splosh sound as what felt like a river of come dripped down and hit the pavement under you. “So messy…” He chastised.
He lowered his hand, collecting some of his cum gushing out. He played with it, spreading it around your pussy, pushing some inside again. You groaned and moaned, his tendrils holding you in place as he played with your pussy like it was his personal toy. He took some of the cum and rubbed your clit with it, the most delicious friction taking you to the edge. It was dirty, so dirty… And then he took his hand away. You whimpered loudly and he laughed at your pathetic slutty act, slapping your pussy hard and making your eyes roll inside your head. You came, right there, right then. You screamed at the top of your lungs, his laughter fading into the background as your brain blacked out for a couple seconds.
You came back slowly. He lowered you to the ground, his front to your back and tendrils still around you. “Told you it would be fun!” His voice was back to his normal tone, making you relax, finally recognized your stupid boyfriend’s voice. He never showed his full demon form, just giving you glimpses of it through the months you dated. It came in handy for him today, you guessed, anger rising inside of you.
“You didn’t say you were going to use your fully transformed form. You scared the crap out of me, you ass!” You yelled back at him, your eyes still teary and your voice raw after the screaming marathon you just had.
“Hey! Don’t lie to me, you like my ass. And I definitely love yours…” He smirked, his hand groping your ass. He kneaded your ass cheeks like he was making bread, chuckling when you tried to pull away. You knew you were going to have some pretty nasty bruises the next day. He would love that. To have you all marked.
“I hate you.” You whispered, trying hard not to moan as he pulled on your thong’s string, the fabric rubbing your asshole and abused pussy in the best possible way.
“Aww, baby, don’t be like that.” He said softly, placating. His lips trailing kisses along your neck. “But you looked so good running away from me, I couldn’t let the opportunity pass. Also, your booty moves so nicely when you run, and your tits were bouncing like you were an anime girl.” You didn’t need to look at his face to know he was smirking like a madman.
“You are nasty.” You told him, reaching back and grabbing his balls, hard. He just moaned. You knew he liked the pain.
“You love when I’m nasty.” He teased you. He was right, you couldn’t deny that. “Can I fuck your asshole next?” He mumbled, rubbing his still hard dick against your back. You looked over your shoulder at him, trying to decipher if he was kidding. He wasn’t.
“You give me the scare of my life!” You repeated, mad at him for being so heartless, but deep down loving how shameful he was.
He didn’t look guilty at all. “You came either way. You loved to be my prey, didn’t you baby?” He teased, tendrils coming around your body to hold you tight against his embrace. You mumbled about how mad you were, not really meaning it. “Does that mean I can’t bend you down and fuck your ass?” He asked again in a pouty voice. You hesitated, and he took that as an invitation to move your thong to the side again, teasing your asshole. He pushed his traveling tail up your hole, circling it. You tried to push him away, but he just laughed and moved it to collect some of the mixture of his seed and your juices. He used it as lube as he pushed the pointed tip inside you, making you moan. “There she is, my lovely slutty girlfriend.”
“Take me home first, at least.” You told him, already giving in to the pleasure you could feel building for him pushing his tail in an out, just the tip, but it was enough to make your pussy tingle all over again. His cum was still coming out of you. He always came in what felt like buckets.
“But I don’t wanna wait!” He complained, fucking you faster and holding your hips flush against his body. You pushed back, making his tail go deeper, his laughter almost cruel.
“Don’t be a brat. Take me home.” You choked out, already feeling the signs of an orgasm building. You didn’t want to be caught, and you already pushed your luck too far tonight.
“Can I fuck all your holes if I take you home?” He tried to negotiate.
“Ugh, fine.” You tried to fake the annoyance, but you knew he saw right past your facade. Who were you trying to lie? You loved when he was so shameless, you loved when he used all of your holes as you were nothing more than a human fleshlight for him. And specially, you loved when he used his prehensile tail to fuck your ass as he pushed his dick inside your pussy. Fuck. You were so close.
He lifted you up and carried you home, his tail still fucking your hole sloppily all they way there, bouncing you over him and staring at your tits.
You came two more times before you reached your bed.
#monster#monster fucker#monster imagine#monster x human#teratophillia#monster boyfriend#monster x reader#demon#demon x human#demon x reader#chubby reader#chubby reader x monster#demon x chubby reader#monster fuqqer#monster fudger#monster kink#monster lover#terato
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𝜗𝜚 Theoretically Yours.
Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
Summary: After a series of murders at your university, the FBI has decided to give you a bodyguard. The problem is that he is extremely cute and can hardly protect himself, especially from you and your charms.
Words: 1,9k.
TW: mentions of murder, crime, blood and also a plot twist???. spicy insinuations. spencer from the first seasons. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: I'm really excited about this, I love Spencer Reid in all seasons, but in the early ones he had something different that drove me crazy. Also, this is the first time I write here and I'm nervous.
♡ Enjoy! ♡
It was supposed to be a normal day, but agents showed up at your door to stop you from going to class and left you under the watchful eye of the youngest of them, Dr. Spencer Reid. It was a precaution to protect you from the killer who has been stalking the campus, killing girls with similar profiles to yours.
You weren't afraid and insisted that it wasn't necessary until you saw him. The mere thought of spending time alone with the man made you more excited than you would have liked. He was very tall, skinny and could barely look you in the eye for more than five seconds without looking away absolutely blushing.
You had decided not to talk to him or act suspicious, but for some reason you liked the idea of him helping you with your biology homework. You were studying pre-med at the behest of your parents and were having trouble understanding some of the material. Spencer saved your life when he offered to help you and told you about his multiple doctorates.
“You are amazing, like a genius.” You said in surprise when he read the big book you had on the table in just five minutes and left a bunch of notes in it.
He blushed again, trying to adjust his glasses to hide it so it wouldn't show. Reid was doing his best to be professional and not let his guard down, he had to be vigilant in case you were in danger.
“It's nothing. I hope it helps you.” He said, giving you a little smile.
You nod and look at the television behind him. They were airing a new report on the latest murders, showing photos of the victims and interviews with family members. Everyone cried and repeated how unfair it was to lose their prodigy daughters to a madman. You thought about how they made such a simple TV show about spilled blood without thinking about it, just trying to paint the girls who had tormented you for several years as white doves.
“Don't worry, you're safe here. I can promise that.” Spencer spoke as he followed your gaze. He was trying to comfort you and take away any fear with his presence.
“I know.” You smile at him with innocence. You were more than capable of protecting yourself and you knew it.
There was an awkward moment of silence, so you offered him coffee to break it. You went to the kitchen and poured two cups, watching from afar as he talked on the phone in the meantime. You couldn't help but notice the nervousness in his voice as he repeated to his colleagues that all was well with you.
“She's pretty, isn't she?” Penelope's voice rang through the phone in Reid's ear and sent shivers down his spine. “I saw some pictures in internet.”
“I...maybe...yes.” He mumbled, trying not to let you hear him. "How does that matter or help the case?"
As you used the coffeepot, Spencer looked you over from head to toe. He couldn't deny how attractive you were and how much his heart raced when you were around. His extreme lack of flirting skills and his clear differences with you saved him from the temptation you were.
“Just have fun, lover boy. You need it.” The woman smiled proudly and hung up the call before he could answer.
The two poured cups were already on the table, you sat down on the sofa by the window to start reading the notes he had left in your medical book. His impeccable handwriting made you shudder, it was unbelievable that someone with so much knowledge would waste time trying to take care of you from yourself and not even realize it.
“You're okay?” He asked with a soft voice, sitting in front of you.
“Yes, just reading your notes.”
“Sorry, I put too many. But I can mark the important ones for you.” He gently took the book from your hands and began to place himself between the paragraphs with one of his fingers.
Your eyes fell on his hands, the way he moved them over the pages of the book bringing inappropriate thoughts to your mind. You hadn't noticed before how perfect every part of him seemed, especially now that he was spouting complex biological terms without even flinching. You were aware of your own intelligence and proud of it, but you would have liked to be like him...or at least have him around.
“Is something wrong?” He asked confused as he noticed how you had been watching him.
“Sorry. I was thinking of biology...nothing better to look at to understand the theory.” You said to justify your indiscretion.
“Oh sure, it helps. According to several studies, the human being has three main systems for perceiving information: visual, auditory and kinesthetic.” He began to explain quickly. “This theory was put forward in 1988.”
“Maybe that can help me.” You suggested, trying to look away from him.
He nods and start to talking again.
“You were watching, that was visual. And you heard me talking before, that was auditory.”
“And what is kinesthetic?” You asked, even though you knew what the answer was.
Spencer swallowed before speaking, trying to hide his nervousness at the sudden change in tone of the conversation. He was glad to know that he had been able to turn the situation around and put the recent crimes out of his mind, he had been worried that they would affect you.
“Is what is learned through sensation and movement.” He finally said with his voice trembling slightly.
“Can I...?” You try to ask, but he nods before you can finish the sentence.
You stop looking into his eyes and take his hand, put it on your legs and start tracing lines with your finger over his scarred veins. You could feel him shudder every time you touched him, and his mutterings about the technical names of each became inaudible.
“This is the radial artery, provides oxygenated blood to the hands and fingers.” You start to talking, looking him to the eyes again and letting your hand enjoy the softness of his.
“Yes...yeah, it is.” His voice came out as a whisper, as if he was losing control of the situation. No one had ever touched him in such a way before.
The smell of coffee mixed with his cologne is almost addictive and begins to drive you crazy. Just touching his hands was not enough, something inside you wanted more and the ideas running through your head began to torment you. You knew it wasn't right and that your own sanity was in jeopardy, he was one of the good guys and you not so much. It just wasn't right for you to mix, let alone under the current circumstances.
“I should check the perimeter.” Spencer rose from his seat and slowly moved his hand away from yours. He need to go away before something incorrect happened.
All the words were caught in your throat at that moment. You didn't want him to walk away yet.
“It's not necessary.” You got up after him, preventing him from walking to the door and being able to leave. “Everyone is in their classes now, the residence is empty and your coffee is going to get cold.”
Spencer knew you were right. He couldn't go against logic, so he sat back down on one of the couches and took a sip of the coffee you had poured for him. He did his best to avoid your gaze, but it was impossible when you were looking out the window and absentmindedly sipping your coffee.
“Do you think they'll find the killer?” You asked, trying to make conversation after watching through the glass as police cruisers drove around campus.
“Of course, no one else will have to get hurt and everything will be back to normal for you.” He replied without taking his eyes off you.
“I don't think you get to decide that.” You blurt out without thinking.
The phrase and your tone were enough to make him stand up and walk towards you. He put a hand on your shoulder out of inertia, to give you support and reassure you a little.
“You don't need to be afraid.” He gave you a small reassuring smile and you felt the warmth of his touch.
You took a tentative step toward him, shortening the distance between your bodies. You raised your gaze to meet his, feeling at his mercy because of the difference in height. You weren't thinking too hard and didn't hesitate to put your hand on his cheek, caressing it.
“What are you doing?” He asked, trying not to get carried away by your touch.
“To thank you for being here and helping me.” You had a burst of courage and stood on tiptoe to give him a resounding kiss on the cheek.
Then you moved your face far enough away to look at him and see his blush. He looked so affected by a simple kiss on the cheek that you couldn't help but move closer again, this time with his fingers on your chin.
“You can't. We can't.” He stopped the approach just a couple of inches from their lips colliding.
“Why? Because I'm part of your job?” You questioned in frustration, unable to tear your eyes away from his mouth.
“I'm here to keep you safe.” He tried to sound calm and professional, though his voice trembled.
“I'm very safe now.” You assured him, grabbing his arms and wrapping them around your waist. “No one can hurt me here.”
Without Spencer being able to notice, a small moan escaped him at your action.
“There's a killer on the loose.” He insisted, trying to be the voice of reason even though he couldn't look away from your lips.
“Trust me, a kiss won't bring him here. I'm sure of it.” You replied as you noticed him slowly pulling away from you.
A curse tried to come out of your mouth at the rejection and lack of his touch at your waist, but before you could finish it, his lips were on yours and his hands were pressing you against him.
His lips were as soft as his hands, but the way they moved over yours was not soft at all. At first, even his tongue seemed to ask your permission to continue. It took several seconds of clear acceptance before the uncertainty of his kiss disappeared and was replaced by need.
You took advantage of the fact that you were in front of the big couch to push him off and you both fell on top of him, having only a few seconds to catch your breath before continuing. He gave you a quick, tender kiss before pulling his hands away from your back to remove his glasses, which were already fogged up and out of place. But your hand stopped him just before he could put them down on the table.
“Do not take off your glasses. I really like them.” You whispered still over his mouth.
“As you wish.” He said before kissing you again and letting himself enjoy himself under you, without thinking about anything else.
At that moment you knew that maybe committing a few more murders to keep him around wasn't such a bad idea.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid x fem!readr#criminal minds x reader#matthew gray gubler#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer with glasses x me forever & ever <3
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Remember Me
summary: you cant make sense of where you are or even how you ended up in this cell, hells, you're not even sure of who you are at this point; any memories of your past are a blur. its all the more confusing when a group of adventurers come rescue you, and a particularly worried pale elf takes it upon himself to help you remember who you are.
rating: E
word count: 7k
pairing: astarion x you (fem!reader, reader is tav)
cw: 18+. angst, act 3 spoilers related to astarion's side quest, mentions of kidnaping and torture, memory loss, blood feeding, vampire bites, smut, oral (f!receiving), p in v, The Leg Thing followed by mating press, sweet love making, love confession. full list on ao3
a/n: loosely based on this audio (18+) from OGY.
read on ao3
my masterlist
or keep reading down below~
Pain.
It’s the first thing that hit you when your consciousness came back to you.
How much everything fucking hurt.
Your entire body felt as if it had gone through the nine Hells, all at once; you could barely find the strength in yourself to get to your feet, let alone push yourself off the ground.
Then it was the disarray when you couldn’t place what had happened for you to feel so awful.
It was as if you had woken up from a long sleep; distant voices in your head, blurry faces merging together when you closed your eyes, and an awful feeling of emptiness, as if you had forgotten something extremely important but you couldn’t put your finger on it, no matter how much you thought about it.
Nothing but endless darkness.
As much as you tried to remember your life, anything before this moment, you were met with a dark fog clouding your vision. Your family, your friends — if you even had any — had all vanished from your memory. You think you remember yourself, for the most part, but even that was a stretch; you couldn’t even remember your own bloody name.
You look around you, realising for the first time that you were in a prison cell. The course of events after waking up in this dark cell hadn’t helped; the sudden cold inhabiting you, followed by this man — this monster — barging in without as much as a warning before pushing you face first against the ground and ripping open your shirt, to then torture you as he carved your back with his knife, only to leave as suddenly as he had appeared. Barely a few words exchanged, aside from some mumbling about teaching “him” a lesson, whoever that was, and you were alone once again.
Alone, with nothing but this seething pain in your back from the butchery you had gone through, the hunger digging into your belly, and your blood leaking from your shivering form, pooling around you on the cold, hard floor.
You barely had the time to gather your thoughts when the same man came back barely minutes later to carry you out of your cell and into a larger room — keeping you restrained with some magic that visibly came from his staff — where more people waited.
By the looks of it, you had been right on one thing: this was indeed a dungeon, and you were located in the deepest part of them; this room contained only a round, rock platform, located above an endless, foggy pit.
In the state you were in, you couldn’t catch everything he said as he went on a monologue. Something about powers, freedom; whatever it was, they needed you to achieve it, that was the only thing that was clear from his speech. You couldn’t understand how any of them would follow a maniac like him, but in their eyes you noticed how they listened to his words with as much fear as awe.
Your form was shivering from the cold; you wanted to cover up your top which had been previously ripped off from your body, but it was all in vain: the restraints of his magic kept you in place, and right after his speech, you were sent flying over a designated spot floating above the ground, just like all the six other people that had surrounded you previously.
Your arms remained bound to your sides by whatever spell this monster had cast on you, leaving your chest exposed to the damp, cool air of this dungeon, and your fresh wound stinging evermore at your back.
You remember the panic tightening in your chest when you realised you couldn't escape. You remember the brief relief, hope even, at the sight of a group of adventurers approaching — one of the figures shouting at the man in the middle of the room — followed by explosions and screams. Then the fear settled in when you saw them execute one of the other unfortunate souls magically held floating around this room, one new truth forming in your mind.
They weren’t here to save you.
You would be next. They would kill you. You would die here.
The pressure in your chest grew tighter as you closed your eyes and mourned your life, one you didn’t even remember experiencing, one that — you hope — had been full of adventures, of acquaintances… of love.
This last one must’ve been true. You remember being loved — more so how it felt, even if the feeling seemed so far and long ago. You remember the butterflies in your belly, the fluster in your heart, the heat between your legs; you remember just enough to know that if you died today, at least, you would’ve died as someone who had been loved.
You didn’t expect your feet to touch the cold hard ground once more. You remember falling to your knees, your body exhausted by the abuse it had gone through in just the last few hours. You remember your dry throat when you noticed the butchered corpse in the middle of the room, barely recognizable anymore.
“Gods… what has he done to you?”
But you couldn’t seem to place the face of your saviour. The bloodied, silver curled elf who had rushed to kneel next to you after defeating your captor, who approached you and held your face so carefully.
How those crimson eyes of his had widened in horror when you flinched at his touch and backed away.
Him and his group had killed one of you who stood in this circle, who’s to say he wasn’t here to finish the job? Lure you in with a sweet touch only to snap your head off; you knew better than to let yourself fall for the first man to approach you.
“Darling, it’s over now.” He had said with his voice low, getting back on his feet to approach you as if you were an injured beast, “Just take my hand, we’re getting out of here.”
You didn’t know whether to feel insulted or reassured by his assertiveness, but you remained frozen in place, your eyes switching from the hand extended out to you and his severe look that you reciprocated with a frown to hide your terror.
“Look,” he sneered, “you can either take my hand, come with me out of this hellhole, or rot away in this godsforsaken—”
From behind him, someone from his group called out a name which stopped him mid-sentence just as his tone was rising.
“Astarion.”
A name that felt oddly familiar, despite the void in your memories. It danced beautifully as it echoed across the room and around your mind; there was something about it that just sounded right.
Astarion. A name worthy of being written in the stars, you find yourself thinking, the sound of it bringing you a familiar sense of peace, of security.
Astarion. Maybe if you repeated it enough in your head, something clearer would come up. Maybe, just maybe, then you would remember.
He took a deep breath and continued, which brought you back from your reverie, “I’m quite certain you went through the Hells and back, but for now, I’ll have to ask you to trust me, just as you’ve done in the past. Can you do that for me?”
He extended out his hand once more, this time a request rather than a command, his voice carrying out his concerns, “Can you trust me?”
“Why would I trust someone I’ve just met?” You wanted to ask, but something about the way he asked struck a chord, as if you did know him. As if you knew he spoke true when he said you used to trust him, and you finally accepted the hand he held out to you.
A hand that pulled you to your feet, and guided you out of this dreadful place.
You were given a cloak to cover your shivering form, and you walked along with them back to their camp. Back to this intriguing, yet charming man’s tent, where they all agreed you should rest for the night.
The first thing that hit you when you stepped in was the smell.
You didn’t know what it was exactly, you couldn’t recognize it, but it was intoxicating; it only made your stomach churn more. As the adrenaline of the previous hour settled down, you fell to your knees, grabbing onto your waist as the pain that had been muted came back screaming through your guts.
“Shit—” He rushed down to check on you, with one hand down your back, holding onto you, “Darling, talk to me, what’s wrong?”
“What isn’t wrong?! I was tortured, starved off, almost sacrificed for all I know, and I can’t even remember who I fucking am!” Is what you wanted to say, but all you could manage out is a groan in the middle of your sobs.
When you lifted your head, your eyes fell onto the set of messily arranged bottles from where the strong smell came from, and a quick exchange of glances told him everything he needed to know.
“Of course, you’re hungry,” He sighed heavily, "Look, I’ll gladly offer you some from my own reserves — after I’ve taken a look at your wounds.”
You had almost forgotten about them.
You averted your eyes from his gaze, your mind now racing as you expected the worst. You had no way to see what had been done to your back, but the pain you had gone through was a good indicator of how bad it would look.
Met with your silence, he continued, “I need… to see what he’s done to you. Please.”
Your eyes went back and forth between him and the dark bottles briefly considering pouncing on them to get a taste as your mouth watered in anticipation, but you reluctantly turned your back to him as you sat with your legs pressed back into your stomach, barely helping mitigate the pain in your stomach.
As you let the cloak fall from your shoulders, you heard nothing but a shaky, deflated sigh behind you. Seconds of silence passed before you considered turning around, but a part of you was terrified of the look you would find on his face.
You finally found the strength to utter your first words.
“Is it… that bad?” Your voice was rough from neglect, as the last time you had used it had been to scream when you received this torture.
You heard him take a deep breath, shaking away the shock that had previously rendered him speechless, “You must’ve already known what he carved away in your back. Hells, I knew before even looking, but seeing it…” he pauses, his tone quieting, “seeing it is another story completely.”
“I… I don’t know,” you muster with a weak voice. It's true, you had no idea, he had carved your damn back, you had no way to see the extent of his torture.
He took a deep breath, shaking away the feelings that had sneaked their way into his voice, “It’s no matter, it’s over now; Cazador is dead. He won’t hurt—” he paused, as if processing the information himself, “Anyone, ever again.”
You turned around to face him this time, “Who’s Cazador?”
He huffed, “I’m glad it was that easy for you to forget about him, but when you’ve suffered under his hand for nearly two centuries, the memories tend to linger.”
You remained silent as you stared at him, just as shocked as you were confused by his words. When he noticed your stare, his face twisted in concern, “Oh shit, you’re serious.”
You nodded silently.
He continued, tentatively, “He was my master, he’s the one we killed back in the dungeons — the one who abducted you, who did this to you. Do you not remember any of this?”
You shook your head slightly, never leaving his gaze.
“Oh dear.” His voice dropped as his eyebrows raised and his eyes widened all at once, “Do you remember anything at all — the absolute, our adventure… Do you remember… me?”
His eyes went back and forth between yours, as if he was searching them for any sign of recognition, looking for you, whoever you were behind those confused, teary eyes. You gave him another shy shake of your head, followed by a single tear coming down your cheek, a tear you weren’t sure why it was shed; whether it was from the loss of yourself, or the mourning of something you didn’t even remember having.
“Gods…” He breathed out heavily as his sight left you, his mind visibly ruminating. “He can’t… He couldn’t have… He…”
His tone suddenly changed as he growled, “That monster.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head before looking back at you, “You were with us just yesterday. You were — are this group’s leader. If… If you have no memories of your mortal life then it means…” he looked away, frowning, “He rushed your transformation to replace me in the ritual.”
None of the words he had said made any sense to you, “Transformation?”
He turned back to you to be met with your visible confusion, and he explained further, “Normally, when you’re turned, you need to be drained of your blood and buried six feet underground, before you can crawl out of your tomb to be reborn. This process takes a day, usually, and when you awaken, you are still you, but immortal and bound to your master,” he spat out the last word like it left a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.
“Now you,” he continues, “you were turned within twelve hours, which would explain why your eyes are only half red, why your fangs haven’t come out yet, and…” his voice quieted down, “why you have no memories of your past. As if the rushed transformation had actually killed this part of you along with your humanity.”
You remained focused on the first thing he had said: your eyes had changed colour?
You hadn’t had the chance to look at yourself since your awakening and if not remembering your name wasn’t anxiety inducing enough, you realised you couldn’t even recall what you looked like.
All of a sudden, panic rushed its way into your heart; you needed to see yourself. You frantically looked around the tent to find anything that could send back your reflection and practically jumped on the pocket mirror when you spotted it nearby Astarion.
Only the mirror was broken. It must’ve been; it reflected nothing.
“If that wasn’t obvious by now, this should’ve clarified things a bit,” he said.
He lowered the mirror you still held in front of you, expecting your image to be reflected eventually, maybe at a different angle, maybe with more light. Maybe another one would, maybe you were just delirious from everything that had happened only today.
“You’re a vampire now. No matter the angle, you’ll never see your reflection come out of this mirror. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
Vampire.
The word didn’t make sense; nothing made sense.
Yet, when you parted your lips to let your tongue run against your teeth; you found your canines the same size they were, that they should’ve been, but they were much sharper than what would be considered normal and you almost pierced your tongue from the gesture.
“Maybe…” he carried on, lost in thought, “there’s even a chance that the tadpole has been messing around with more of the changes your body is going through.”
“Tadpole?” You interjected, your head shaking of its own in disbelief. “What?”
He huffed in astonishment, “So you really do remember nothing.”
You sighed, “I— I don’t… As much as I try, I’m met with a void of memories. The only thing remotely familiar since I woke up has been… you.” His eyes had gone soft and bright with hope, but also melancholy. “I don’t know who you were to me, and I don’t know why, but some part of me knew I could trust you.”
He chuckled, a sad smile finding its way over his lips, “Even with your memories gone, it seems I can’t leave your mind, can I?”
You gave him a smile of your own, “Would you mind… reminding me of my life? Of us?”
“Gods, where to start, darling. Would you believe me if I told you our story began with me holding a knife to your throat?”
You found yourself smiling unconsciously, “With everything that's happened to me in the last few hours, I find that easy to believe.”
“And strangely enough it's probably the least odd part of our story.” He tilted his head, giving you a genuine smile before carrying on.
“It’s all tedious, really, but… There’s one memory I want to tell you about: The night of the tiefling party. Ugh, it was dreadful for the most part; the wine tasted like vinegar, the music was too loud, and there were too many of those bloody tieflings at our camp, to be quite sincere— “
“Not a people’s person I take it?”
“My dear, after years of being forced on and by people, the last thing you want is to be surrounded by more of them.” The sight of you parting your lips and raising your eyebrows told him you had also forgotten about this and he quickly caught onto it, changing the direction of the discussion back to the topic at hand. “But, there was one good thing that came out from this night: when we met in the woods. I had high hopes of you joining me there — although no doubts, of course — I was the most suitable option among our group after all.”
“Most suitable? Someone else wanted to spend the night with… me?”
“Darling, the whole world and their mother wanted a special moment with you. But only one of us got that honour. A chance to steal away with everyone’s new favourite leader.”
The faint sounds of the party fading: music echoing through the forest, people laughing, the cool air of a summer’s night breezing through, and good company throughout the night.
“I have been waiting for you. Waiting since the moment I first saw you. Waiting… to have you.”
You blinked, “You… were waiting for me in the woods, I’m— I’m remembering.”
“I did put a lot of effort into my entrance, I would be upset if you didn't remember it quite honestly.” You laughed softly. “Do you remember what happened afterwards?”
Your eyes roamed as you pushed the memory further, before you lifted your head to meet his gaze, “You… kissed me.”
“After you had the audacity to say I didn't have you yet while you had come to me of your own volition, yes, and then?”
You chuckled, but your smile quickly faded as your memory unlocked the next part of this puzzle. He looked at you with a knowing glint in his eyes; he was simply waiting for you to say it yourself.
“We made love.”
He sighed dramatically, “Love is such a big word for what happened back then, but…” his tongue clicked, accentuating the end of the word, “That was certainly the start of it. The start of a series of feelings that came and complicated everything. It’s what pushed me, soon after, to confess to you that it was all part of a silly plan I had to keep you in my favour. I was terrified, honestly, especially considering it was all because I initially manipulated you to fall for me…”
He paused, searching your expression before carrying on, and continued when he found nothing but soft eyes looking back. “But then — despite everything — there you were, holding me tight.”
He let go of a deep breath.
“For so long I had nothing — no one. And all of a sudden, there’s you, who held onto me, who cared so much more than anyone ever did. And I found myself not wanting to let go. I couldn't.”
He frowned, turning his gaze away, “And Cazador used that against me. As soon as he had word of my whereabouts in Baldur’s Gate and the crowd I was hanging out with, he jumped at the first chance to torture me once more. He probably thought I was unaffected by any physical pain he could impose on me by now, so he did the next worst thing: take it out on the one person I cared about in this wretched world.” He shook his head, “If we hadn’t gotten there in time—”
“But you did.” You interrupt. “You saved me and yourself in the process. This ritual wouldn’t have given you the freedom you think it carried.”
His eyes lit up, “You talk as if you knew what it entailed.”
You nodded, “It’s coming back to me, bit by bit. I remember what you told me about him. I remember the purpose of the ritual, and your plan to replace him and take his power instead.”
He sighed, “Gale thought brilliant to kill one of my brothers to stop Cazador from carrying on with the ritual. Bloody wizard didn’t realise it meant I couldn’t continue it myself then.
“Maybe he did.” His gaze flickered back to you in confusion before you continued, “You don’t need satanic powers to carry on, Astarion. You’re free now.”
He huffed, “And all it cost was my life in the sun.”
“Well,” you tilted your head, “It did cost me mine too. Once the tadpoles are gone, we’ll both be banished to the shadows once again. But we’ll be together, and that’s something at least.”
He rolled his eyes before landing them on you, “At least the transformation didn’t take away from your heartbleeding optimism, dear.”
You chuckled, “Thank the Gods for that— ugh!”
You clutched at your stomach, your body tilting forward in pain, and Astarion instantly knew the cause of your suffering; it’s something he recognized all too well.
“Hells, you must be starving. Gods know Cazador wouldn’t waste a single drop on a lowly spawn — no offence, dear.”
“None taken,” you forced a humourless laugh. “I shouldn’t have expected much considering I was to be cattle for a satanic ritual.”
He turned around and you kept a close eye on him as he handled the bottles beside him, pulling out a silver cup out of his bag of holding to pour you a portion.
“Here,” he sat back down, parting his legs open, extending one arm to you, “Come on love, sit back against me, would you?”
You stared unsure for a few seconds but obliged him. You scooted back until your back was fully resting against his chest, leaving no space lost between the two of you.
When he brought the cup forward you reached for it but he pulled back, clicking his tongue, “Oh no, my sweet, I will be the one to feed you tonight. This is your first time, we wouldn't want your primal instincts to take over now, would we?”
You turned around to stare at him for some time with incertitude and he simply tilted his head, with a sly smile, “Humour me, darling. You’ll be glad you did, hm?”
You pressed your lips together almost pouting, but acquiesced as you nestled yourself between his legs, your tense body laying against his chest once again.
He brought the cup to your mouth at long last, while his other hand held onto your chin. You gasped at his touch — while not unwelcome, it was a surprise — and you parted your lips to welcome your drink.
His hands were rough against your skin, yet there was a softness to it that made you melt under his touch. Made you want to push further into his hand to know how it would feel around your throat. It was almost enough to make you forget about the drink against your lips. Almost.
While the mere closeness of it had been invigorating, drinking it was ecstatic. It felt like your first meal in weeks, and it might as well have been with the pit that had replaced your stomach.
You took big gulps of the delectable nectar, barely pausing for air as you rushed to empty the cup’s content, eager to have your fill with this delicious substance.
“Slowly now darling,” he pulled the cup away from your lips and you gasped at the loss of your feeding source, “This is your first time feeding; I wouldn’t rush things.”
You frowned, but complied; even if you were starving, he had over two hundred years of experience with this form — you barely had a few hours. Your mind wasn’t all there yet either, and it's true that you couldn’t trust those new primal instincts to be civil enough to drink responsibly.
You held onto the one truth you knew, one that was clear ever since the start: you trust him.
You eased back into him, letting him hold you and guide you throughout your meal. The cup rested at a slightly down angle against your lips to allow you good mouthfuls of blood without overfeeding you all at once.
“There, good girl,” he purred. “You are doing so well for me, love. Small sips now, let your body recuperate from the shock.”
There was something about his voice that soothed you, brought you a peace of mind, a calm after this storm that had been your last few hours.
A shiver down your spine, that travelled all the way down between your legs.
You finished the content of the cup at a slower pace than you had started, soothed by his soft approach and the new blood filling your stomach, and he took this chance to explain more about your condition while pouring you another serving.
“Considering this is your first feeding, you’ll need a bit more to carry on until your next meal. Mind you, it’s normal if you don’t feel full; this is a curse, after all. The real challenge is to learn to live with your hunger.” He cleared his throat as he brought the cup back up to your lips, full again, “Alright now, open up, love.”
You hungrily parted your bloodied lips to welcome another serving.
“There, there, just like that.” A soft whimper left your throat between sips, and he caressed your cheek with his thumb, “Shhh, you're okay, you're doing just fine.” He leaned next to your head to whisper, “You’re perfect, my sweet.”
For a moment, you could swear you felt your heart beat anew.
You drank with his help until you finished one full bottle from his reserve, and with the pain in your stomach settling down, you allowed your body to relax against him. That’s when you felt something poking against your back, something you wanted to taste as much as the blood that had blessed your tongue just moments ago.
And he must’ve known, too.
“So, as you must’ve realised, your hunger was a side effect of the transformation. But what you’re feeling now, which I can very much smell on you, is a result of your feeding.”
If any of the blood you had ingested had made it in your veins by now, they must’ve all rushed to your cheeks at this very moment.
“Blood,” he continued, “Brings us back alive temporarily; it warms us, allows our hearts a few shy beating of their own, but it also reawakens other mortal pleasures. The first time it can be… a tad overwhelming.”
“It’s…” You hadn’t realised how quiet your heart had been until it started beating away once more in your chest; your cheeks felt warm, your breathing had accelerated, and your core was aching. You breathed out your reply, “It really is.”
As you turned your head aside, resting against his shoulder, and your eyes lingered over his lips, another primal urge awoke in you to devour him, in every way possible. You needed to taste him, his mouth, his blood, his come—
Until you were blessed with another sudden memory, and you turned away from his lips, gazing anywhere that wasn’t on him to stop yourself from acting irrationally.
“Wait, no, I’m sorry—”
He grabbed your chin and turned you back to him in one fluid movement. “You have nothing to be sorry for, darling, and I would be more than happy to entertain these carnal thoughts I saw in those eyes of yours. Unless you’d rather spend the night with someone else?” he teased.
You held your breath as he brought you closer to him, his hand lingering over your cheek. If you just closed the distance now, you could—
“No, Astarion, I won't force—”
“Stop that right now.” He cut you off without skipping a beat, stunning you once more. “You are not forcing yourself onto me or forcing me. This, right now, right here, is my decision.”
His other hand came up to cup your face, drawing you closer to him, your lips but a whisper apart.
“I want this,” he murmured against your lips, his voice lustful and heavy with need. “I want… you.”
Your eyes locked and the second after, his lips were pressed against yours and you let yourself get lost into this kiss. How his hands held on to your face, how his tongue tasted the blood on your lips, how he whimpered into your mouth at the contact of your own tongue; this memory of love you had remembered earlier, it had been a memory of this.
His kiss, his touch, his voice, him.
Your kiss was engulfing, springing your heart back to life in a sudden rush as you met every of his kisses with the same passion, and soon enough, you were laying back against his bedroll, with him over you and stealing your breath away; one — you didn’t realise yet — you didn't need anymore.
His hands rested next to your head and you allowed yourself to reach up to hold his face, trace the lines of his age over his cheeks and down his neck, and trailing along the opening of his shirt before he broke apart from your lips.
“I’ve been thinking about this for many nights now.”
“What would I be like as a vampire?” You asked semi-jokingly.
“No, silly — Although, the question did flit into my mind once or twice, but no. I was thinking of how I would have you, the next time I would bed you. I’ve touched myself at the thought of having you again, the sounds you would make, how your cunt would feel wrapped around my cock instead of my hand—”
He took your hand from where it was resting and guided it down between his legs, and a short gasp escaped you when you felt how hard he was.
“ —but tonight, after spending a lifetime looking for it, I finally know what I want.” His half-lidded eyes seemed darker than they had been, and you lost yourself in them, "And Gods help me if I can't have you—”
“I’m yours,” you answered back in a heartbeat, your voice but a whisper, “I’ve always been, and I’ll always be, for as long as you’ll have me.”
Your words broke the remaining chains of control Astarion had over himself, as he pulled your pants off from you and removed his own shirt while your hands fumbled with his trousers. A moment later, you both laid against one another, as bare as you were on your first days on this plane of existence, your lips back on each other.
“Mmh, I wonder…” Astarion let his kisses trail down from your mouth to your jaw, then your neck.
“Hm?”
“Now that you’re a vampire,” he left small kisses alongside your neck and down your shoulder, “your blood will taste different.”
“You’ll still drink from me?”
“Well of course, dear,” he lingered in the crook of your neck, before licking his way up to your ear where he whispered, “And I can’t wait to know how you taste after you’ve tasted me.”
You shivered against his breath, fully expecting him to bite you following those words, and when he didn’t you were almost disappointed. He, on the other hand, seemed extremely satisfied with himself.
“Eager already? And here I thought I was the most depraved between the two of us.” You sighed heavily as he came back up to face you, “Maybe I will be tasting you tonight, after all. Is this something that you want?”
You smiled softly, your hand finding his cheek again, “Yes.”
When your lips met this time, it was soft, pure, communicating words you hadn’t exchanged yet despite your longing for one another. It only made you want him more.
“Speaking of tasting you,” he said against your lips, “I wonder if something else has changed.”
You barely had time to process what he had said when he made his way down your chest, briefly sucking on one of your nipples.
“Mh,” he released it with a pop, “this one still tastes the same.”
He moved to your other breast to give it the same attention, teasing it with his teeth and earning him a moan from you before releasing it, “This one as well.”
He left a path of kisses as he trailed down your navel, until he was resting between your legs with a hungry look in his eyes, “Now, for the main course—”
You weren’t prepared for his fangs to dig in the inside of your thighs, making you scream in surprise as your hands grabbed onto the sheet of his bedroll. The pain quickly turned into pleasure as he nibbled and kissed the softness of your thigh, before making his way to your wet slit, which begged for attention.
The smell of you invaded his senses and you could feel his breath over your core as he breathed you in, his arms now wrapped under your thighs as he laid on his stomach and between your legs, “Darling, you smell divine.”
A soft whimper escaped your lips as his tongue pressed against your entrance and he slowly licked all the way up to your clit, “And you taste— Gods, you taste even better than before.” He smiled up to you, his mouth covered by a cocktail of your blood and juices. “I didn’t think it could be possible.”
You were past words by now, but even if you had come up with something, you don’t think you would’ve been able to utter anything with the way his tongue worked between your legs, devouring you of your essence.
“I would forsake blood for the rest of my days if it meant I could nourish myself only of your essence, my love,” he said between licks of you. “The Gods truly made you to ruin me; I could never move on from your taste, even if I wanted to.”
His hands surrounding your thighs and his nails digging in your flesh kept you in place as he continued to worship you, and no matter how much you wiggled, his hold on you held on, as if you were the first meal he was having in days and he wouldn’t let you go until he was sated.
Astarion recognized the signs of your unbecoming as your breathing started shaking and your legs tensed around his head, pushing him to tease you further.
“Are you gonna come for me now?” He smiled between your legs, “Come on, love. Come for me. Come on my tongue.”
The vibration of his humming as he continued to savour you only added to the feeling of his tongue, lapping at your entrance and sucking over your sensitive bud, and his nails digging deeper into your thighs added a delicious hint of pain. After weeks without any sex, you were sensitive to the slightest touch, and now there he was: tasting you, devouring you, wanting you; it was all too much.
“Ah… Astarion!”
Your head fell back against the rough floor of his tent as your back arched and stars clouded your vision. You knew how ironic it was to think so, but you had never felt more alive than you did at this very moment, with your devoted lover worshipping you like the goddess who had finally answered his prayers from all those years ago.
Your legs collapsed as he let go of them to move back up to face you, and he took this chance to hook your leg with his, pushing it upwards to create the perfect angle for him to place himself against your entrance.
Your half-lidded eyes met his, delirious with lust, and you wanted to express the feeling that had been weighing on you for too long now, but when his lips collided with yours and you tasted yourself, all those words got lost on his tongue exploring your mouth.
“I’ve waited so long to finally have you,” he said breathlessly against your lips. “I kept pushing back, thinking it was never the right time.”
He licked his lips, wiping off the string of saliva that connected your mouths. “When you disappeared… I thought I had lost my only chance. I’m done waiting around.”
He slowly pushed himself into you with a low groan as he felt your slickness wrap around him, and you threw your arms around his neck as you moaned into his ear.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. So tight and warm, all for me. I would stay here inside of you for a decade if I could. You feel exquisite, my love.”
He retracted himself slowly, and plunged back in with the same agonising pace, taking in the feeling of your inside. “I’ll enjoy taking my time with you; discovering what makes you tick, tease every one of your sensitive spots. But tonight — I just want this: feeling you wrapped around me and to know that I’m the reason for your unbecoming.”
His pace accelerated, each thrust of his hips brushing against your clit as your bodies almost fused as one, pushing you closer to another edge already.
A particularly well placed thrust had you dig your nails into his back and he hissed into your ear, “Darling,” he panted, “Remind me to trim your nails when we’re done.”
You quickly realised what he meant when a poignant smell, stronger than the bergamot, brandy, and rosemary you smelled on him previously, invaded your nostrils and your mouth watered in response. What you didn’t realise was how you ended up breathing down his neck, just against the popping vein conveniently displayed for you to bite down on. Just one bite away from ecstasy.
“Still hungry, little love?”
You were snapped out from your daze by his voice purring into your ear, pulling away from his neck and blinking as you gained back control of your thoughts.
“I’m— It’s just— Your blood smells really, really good.”
He chuckled, “I tend to have that effect on people. Would you like a taste?”
You forced yourself to look into his eyes, “I… Are you sure?”
He smiled, “There’s nothing I’d like more, my love.”
His gaze reflected sincerity and you gulped as you found your way back in the crook of his neck, your lips brushing against his sensitive skin. You licked the vein you had sensed earlier but didn’t push further. That’s when you felt the vibration of his chuckle, “Go on, darling. I can take it, I promise.”
With his permission, you pushed your small fangs right over the vein in his neck, relishing in the sudden flood of his crimson in your mouth.
Whatever you drank a few minutes ago was nothing compared to his blood. He was the source in a desert you had been roaming for days, one you couldn’t believe wasn't an illusion, and you drank, and drank, losing yourself in his neck, in his taste, the very essence that fueled him.
You couldn’t tell how much you had drank or how much time had passed when he growled and pinned your arms next to your head. His hips thrusting once, deeper into you and hitting your cervix is what makes you unlatch from his neck with a moan.
“I believe that’s enough, love. Now, let me taste you.”
His lips collided with yours hungrily as he increased his pace between your legs, and he groaned at the taste of himself on your lips, running his tongue across your small fangs.
“Fuck, I need you, I need to make you mine. I need—”
Something snapped within him, a side of him you couldn’t recall ever seeing — one that he could finally let go as he pushed your legs up, pinning them down across your chest and pounded deeper into you.
He growled into your ear as he desperately rutted into you, nearing the edge of his climax at the same time as yours, “I want you, I want you for the rest of our lives, please be mine, be mine, be mine!”
“I’m yours, I'm yours, I— I love you!”
You screamed as you came, his own orgasm following closely after yours, the wave of emotions clashing with the sparks of pleasure coursing throughout your body, and for a moment, you think you died and came back to life within the same minute. It was stronger than anything you remember feeling — even with your memories still scattered, you think you’d remember something as powerful.
It’s only when you came back to your senses and was met with Astarion’s soft, dumbfounded expression, that you realised what you had just said. Panic slowly made its way into your heart and you struggled to find the right words to correct yourself.
“I’m sorry— I—”
He didn’t allow you to finish that sentence, kissing you once more to steal away those thoughts of regret that faded instantly as he pulled back to speak.
“I love you too, darling.”
Your future was paved with incertitude; your memory wasn’t all there yet, but you remembered what was important for now, and if forgetting your past was the price to create new memories with him, it was a price you were willing to pay.
Thank you for reading! Comments, reblogs, and likes are very much appreciated <3
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꒰ 𐙚 keeping warm — genshin men ꒱
⟡ synopsis : as the days get shorter and the weather gets colder, your boyfriend has other ideas on how to keep warm.
⟡ characters : diluc, wriothesley, childe ( he's referred to as ajax in the fic )
⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, soft sex, riding, praising, size kink, squirting, creampie, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, gagging, edging
౨ৎ note : winter time shenanigans with genshin men ૮ • ﻌ - ა ‘tis the season !
୨୧ DILUC
❥₊ ⊹ after a late meeting with the knights of favonius in the dead of winter, you had unfortunately been caught in one of mondstadt's worst snow storms to date. the wind was blowing harshly and it burned your cheeks. when you had reached dawn wineary, diluc was already anxiously waiting near the front doors with thick blankets, clearly worried about you.
you were shivering, a lot, and diluc feared that the blankets may not do enough for you. so he led you by hand to the washroom to take a warm bath and sitting right behind you in the porcelin tub, pushing stray hairs away from your bare back to wash it. eventually when the two of you got out of the bathtub, you went to diluc's bedroom, hoping that skin to skin contact will warm you up once again.
it started off as innocent cuddling surrounded by blankets, with diluc being the bigger spoon but feathering touches turned into wanderering hands which turned into diluc's large hands leading your hips up and down his thick cock.
"ah... that's it baby..." he moans into your neck, moving one of his hands to your lower back, pushing you closer into him.
he was warm, whether it be from his body conserving heat better than yours or his pyro vision resting on the bedside table to the right of you, you don't know what it is but the warmth felt good.
you continue to ride him, your pussy milking his cock for all it's worth while your clit is rubbing against his abdomen deliciously. soon, a layer of sweat formed on both of you bodies.
"mphm! diluc..." you whine softly, pulling away to look at his face and his crimson eyes are filled with lust but also love, so much love.
"yeah? what is it, love?" he asks, his hands coming up to gently hold your face between them and his fingers brushing some hair away from your eyes. "is something wrong?"
"kiss me, please." you beg.
and he obliges, pressing a sweet kiss on your soft lips then moaning in your mouth when you resume riding him. "fuck, love you so much."
"l-love you too, diluc. s'much. love you so much!" you cry out as diluc lifts you up and starts pistoning his cock erratically in your oozing cunt. your back reacts to the overwhelming amount of pleasure by arching, causing your chest to press against his.
diluc's grip on your waist grew tighter as he neared his orgasm, now all he needed was to feel you cum on his cock. "so good, sweetheart... love your pussy... love you..." he mumbles, pressing open mouth kisses to your collarbone. then his cock hit that spongy spot deep inside you and caused you to spiral into your once impending orgasm.
you sobbed as you came, grabbing a hold of diluc's hair as you shook from the sheer amount of pleasure he gave you. from feeling your body shake and your cunt contract around him, diluc's orgasm reached it’s peak and you felt his cock twitch inside of you before his seed flooded your womb.
୨୧ WRIOTHESLEY
❥₊ ⊹ once winter hits in fontaine, there tends to be less to do in the fortress of meropide. there's no work to do, no herbs to gather for sigewinne because all the plants on the surface are dead for the season, and the production of parts for mekas has slowed down immensely. the sanctum becomes dull, boring, and cold. extremely cold. which is why you're thankful for the fireplace that wriothesley had installed in his office.
the warmth from the burning wood accompanied by the warmth, and pleasure, your boyfriend was providing you was perfect.
"doing so good for me, princess..." he groans, he has you on your back on the blue chesterfield placed in front of the fireplace, legs resting around his wide waist while he splits you open with his thick cock.
"hng... w-wrio, shit!" you moan, wriothesley's pace was unrelenting. he didn't care if anyone heard how loud you were being, the messy sounds of him fucking you amazingly was already reverberating throughout the room.
wriothesley had a strong grip on you, fingertips digging almost painfully into your hips. you felt fucking incredible, your sloppy little cunt was practically dragging him deeper and begging for him to cum inside. to fill you completely, to mark you as his.
each thrust into your pussy was calculated, precise, and accentuated, making the mix of your arousal and wriothelsey's precum ooze out from inside of you. he could tell that you were going to cum soon, you were moaning louder, your fingers were leaving red, hot, angry lines in their wake on the lateral muscles of his back, and you were clamping down impossibly tighter on his cock.
"y'gonna cum soon, baby? good fucking girl. cum all over my dick. make a mess." he coos, pulling his cock almost completely out, leaving only his tip in before ramming it back inside of you.
"mhm! gonna cum! wrio, oh m'god!" you hiccup, then moan louder as he brings one of your legs to rest on his broad shoulders with one hand while the other reaches down and toys with your clit.
the knot in your stomach finally snaps and you cry out as you cum hard, and everywhere. your arousal covered wriothesley's cock and lower abdomen, nearly soaking him completely. tears begin to flood your eyes at the intensity of your orgasm and wriothesley continuing to fuck you, "please, please cum inside." you babble.
"oh, fuuuck." wriothesley moans, fucking into you at a quicker pace to reach his orgasm. then when he cums, warmth spreads across your stomach and you feel him covers your walls in white.
when wriothesley pulls out of your messy pussy, a string of yours and his arousal is connected to his cock. "i really made a mess of you, huh?" he chuckles.
"shut up!" you laugh, sitting up and throwing a pillow at him.
୨୧ CHILDE
❥₊ ⊹ while it's well known about the rigid extremities of winters in snezhaya, and not being from there, they felt particularly more... harsh, on you because you're not used to them.
so when childe asked you to come with him to visit his family for the holidays, you thought you were prepared by packing and wearing extra layers but you were proved very, very wrong. and because your boyfriend is ever so caring, he realized how much you were struggling to conserve heat and brought up another idea on how to keep you warm.
"a-ajax... we shouldn't, your family is in the other room." you weakly protest, clearly not completely against his idea because when he pulls down your panties, almost pathetically a string of arousal is connected to them.
"yeah?" he chuckles, "your pussy says otherwise, babe."
"don't say things like that!" you whisper-yell.
"mhm... whatever you want..." childe mumbles, too enamored by your glistening cunt. "i'm putting it, okay?"
"'kay..." you say, your hands tightly grab at the counter in the washroom when you feel how his thick cock sinks into you. "o-oh..."
"shiiit... you sure you didn't want to do this?" he teases before bottoming out completely.
"hng!" you begin to moan out before childe puts two fingers in your mouth.
"i know baby, i know... but you gotta stay quiet..." he lightly scold, still thrusting his cock in and out of your sopping pussy. "so fucking pretty. prettiest girl in the world. so lucky you're all mine." childe watches the way the your ass recoils at each snap of his hips like he's in a trance, truly you were a sight to see.
he was reaching so deep inside of you and you wish you could scream it to the high heavens. your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the stimulation, you could feel your slick and his cum make a mess between your thighs and you didn't know how much longer your legs could hold you up.
as if he could read your mind, childe pulls out abruptly and you whine at the loss of contact before he manhandles you into turning around and picking you up to have half of your ass on the edge of the counter.
"wrap your legs around my waist..." he whispers in your ear and you do so. childe thrust the entire length of his cock back into your cunt and your arms fling around his neck, grabbing at the short hairs of his head.
"o-oh my god... ajax!" you sob, trying to grab onto anything or everything to keep you anchored onto him. his pace was erratic and you swore at the angle he was fucking you at, you could feel him in your stomach.
"so. fucking. tight." childe growls in your ear. even though the two of you were trying to be quiet, the sounds of skin on skin was filling the room with your silent moans. and the tie in your stomach was about to snap, you were about to cum, hard.
"fuck, fuck, fuck... 'm cumming, a-ajax! oh my go—-" and then he stopped.
"what? why did you do that?" you begin to question until childe put his finger to his mouth and hushing, then thats when you heard it.
knock! knock! knock!
"ajax, sweetie? is y/n alright in there?" you hear childe's mom on the other side of the door.
"yeah, mom!" he yells back. "she's just a little cold!"
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