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eldrith · 3 months ago

Note

i literally just thought abt this ajehbsha but like what if the reader was jace's bethrothed that was "killed" by the greens during the dance, but was actually captured and brainwashed her to be an assasin ksjwbsna

think of it somewhat like bucky barnes

safe flight on ur trip!:)

BABE YOUR MIND…. also i haven't seen the marvel movies in ages so im kinda going off what i can recall . and i took this in a bit of a diff direction i hope thats ok but i love this i could write a whole fucking book about this omfg. your mind is beautiful id love to keep it in a jar warnings: mentions of torture, death, assassinations, angst, allusions to smut if you squint, targcest bc its implied you are aegon's sister/of valyrian blood, brief allusion to suicidal thoughts, fluff mostly at the end and is a bit canon divergent. and yes i know this is 3.1k words but it's still a headcanon ok. its just a great concept

you and jacaerys are betrothed when you are young.

despite this, you remain close; shy smiles, kind whispers and youthful awkwardness that blossoms into a strong, devoted friendship. you're to be queen - and he, king. indeed you study for your future duties side by side, with prideful grins - and along the way, you find time for yourselves.

in youth, it is in teaching jacaerys to sew and read tarot, painting, or maybe even showing him the game you used to play with your brothers; it is in him teaching you to wield a sword, studying high valyrian together, him showing you how to climb the castle's ramparts, and inviting you along with he and luke to throw stones at the sea.

as you grow old, it is in jacaerys giving you rides on vermax, dancing with him any chance you can, exploring nature - mountains with caves and tall waterfalls that he pulls you under with feverish kisses, finding ways to sneak to each other's chambers; it is in you kissing his cheek and teasing him when his face grows pink, bringing lucerys along with the two of you when you begin to sneak out of the castle, in sharing too many cups of wine and stumbling to your quarters, in hands weaving through each other's hair.

it is nice.

but then, the war.

things are as okay as they can be for a while- duty is a blessing and a curse for you both. tensions mount. jacaerys feels like everything is falling apart, but he has you; his best friend, his lover, his favorite person in the entirety of the seven kingdoms. you cry with each other, train with each other, sneak off when things become too intense in court. you begin to whisper about a secret wedding, a traditional valyrian one; intimate, quiet.

he just wants to call you his wife, and you just want to call him your husband. but duty has a way of interfering with even the sweetest plans.

the evening jace leaves to treat at winterfell, you clasp a chain round his neck, one you strung your favorite ring through; a keepsake, perhaps. or as he likes to think, a reminder of you during the cold nights in the north.

despite it all, things are okay.

until he loses you.

you are killed with your dragon, defending a crucial line of passage for their men; vhagar and aemond are the last ones to see you as your dragon spirals beyond a hill, wings singed and aflame. you vanish.

jace is overwhelmed with grief.

the news comes just as he's beginning to find himself in a new world - a world without his younger brother - and he, an empty pit of grief and despair, isolates himself from others. consumed by sorrow and rage, his emotions spiral out of control - snapping, yelling, unable to contain his emotions even at council.

his days are marked by a deep mourning that he's unsure will ever be mended. life continues in its droll capacity - the war rages on, and jace becomes more bitter, and more like his great uncle daemon. bloodthirsty, demanding revenge.

and then, you return from the dead.

the day you come back to him is rainy and drowsy. he had foolishly, or in a bout of grief, not noticed the sounds of dragon overhead the caste; a dragon whose screech he had not heard in many moons.

his mother is the one to find him - alone, staring at the hearth in his quarters, eyes filmed with the glossy haze of sorrow.

rhaenyra's face is ghostly, sickly - and he grows immediately concerned as he sees her expression, rising to grasp her arms. "mother, are you well?"

he is shocked when he hears her whisper out: "she's alive."

his worry for his mother vanishes, blinded by her words. you. you're...

and despite being ordered to remain, his legs carry him out - to you. his mother's own footfalls follow behind him, her voice begging. he does not listen, even when she warns him - there is something that isn't right.

when he finally finds you he's elated, heart nearly stopping when your eyes meet.

but there's something missing.

when he takes you into his arms, you're cold; barely blinking, you are not who you used to be.

his own tears distort his vision as he cups your face, pressing a kiss to your full lips - and perhaps that is why he does not notice the sullen, empty look on your face. but he feels it in the way your lips do not kiss back.

jace tries to ignore it, at first.

as you are nursed back to physical health, you avoid telling the court of the truth. all that is revealed is the harrowing tale of your mangled body, put back together by the maester in the red keep; your mutilated dragon, whose health was dangled over your head by your own brother, the one whose head bears a crown that is not his.

you do not speak of your time, but the nightmares you wake from, screaming your throat raw, speak for themselves.

you heal.

you begin to show some signs of humanity after the initial shock subsides; and when you begin to seek his touch, he is glad for that semblance of what you used to have.

but it isn't the same.

you flinch at the slightest movements; your face, once expressive and joyful, is rarely lax of the straight, icy stare you send mostly towards walls. he knows he must be patient; you've endured something he could not imagine - but he cannot help his unease.

you do not speak as you used to - lapse in memory, seemingly unfamiliar with jacaerys; as if you did not grow up together, running down halls, whispering secrets, notching each other’s heights in the frame of your chamber’s threshold.

he can't help when he begins to turn away from your lips, avoiding the mechanical feeling of your mouth upon his, the coldness of your eyes when you attempt to unlace his tunic.

he feels as though it is a different person that tries to kiss him each time. he grows incredibly lonely.

in time, he is suspicious of you. you're... different. during conversations, you forget important details, you cannot recall milestones or memories you used to cherish.

the way your palm fits oddly into his, the way you no longer brush his hair back when it falls into his eyes. you call him jacaerys, or your grace - that, indeed, is the first seed planted in the suspicion of his mind. always jacaerys, never jace - and when he asks you what you do with all the time you spend alone in your chambers, you lock up as if mute.

when performing certain duties around the queen, your eyes would slide to odd objects, or pay close attention to cupbearers and how the queen enjoys her wine.

and he begins tracking your walks when you think you're alone: he discovers you sending ravens with a cloak pulled low over your head, visiting odd alleys in town and disappearing into the lower bowels of peculiar shoppes.

jace goes to daemon, of all people - daemon, first. he knows his stepfather's reputation—ruthless, cunning, and fiercely protective; if anyone can help him discern the truth, it's him. "something is not right," he tells him, worried daemon would somehow turn it into something it's not.

even worse, though, is that daemon is quick to agree. and when jace tells his mother, she confesses her own concern.

"that isn't her," his voice warbled when he tells his mother - lip, trembling, tears tracking down his cheeks as she pulls him into her embrace, her own fear poorly concealed.

when it finally happens, it is a shock to his entire body.

a mere word; murmured, off-hand at a council you happened to be attending - of which you often no longer attended, your trauma and recovery from the kidnapping having sequestered you to your quarters most days.

"Usurper," he'd said.

and then your head had snapped up.

a change in your face - as if no longer human, you’d leapt, ripping out a dagger that had been concealed in your bodice.

and then you'd lunged at him; slicing like a hound rabid for a piece of meat.

he does not remember much besides his reaction: striking you across the cheek and disarming you- kicking hard, your body being thrown to the stone. four swords at your throat. daemon holding you down with a look of disbelief at your heaving frame.

you were relentless, ready to kill - but you are too small, and the rest too many.

a stinging pain, throbbing at his neck as he watches you in shock.

but that was not you - a statue, some sleeping beast that'd been awoken in your tortured brain at the trigger of such a word. it had nearly been worse than when you'd died.

brainwashed, maester gerardys tells them.

it is not until after you have been thrown into the cells below and a bandage sealed around jace's neck.

the blade was one of green and black hilt; intended, likely, for the queen herself - in hopes that she'd have been the first one to utter the word.

likely, maester gerardys says, you were led to believe you'd been abandoned by them, and subsequently tortured for all the time you'd been held at the red keep.

and of course, there was the threat of further maiming your dragon, perhaps, or other similar threats - and physical torture, if the scars on your body are anything to go by; this twists a raw agony in jace's gut and he has to shut his eyes to ward off the thought of you, in pain.

it is a miracle you did not lose your head for nearly slitting the throat of the crown prince; he contests while still lying abed with the open slice of red across his throat, relieved when his mother informs him you are still among the living. she is a merciful queen.

he does not weep until he is alone that night.

breaking the brainwashing is the hardest part.

nights, falling asleep in his brothers or his mother's quarters where your screams of anguish or anger could not be heard - days walking past your heavily guarded chamber to reach his own, swallowing thick as he imagines you on the other side.

isolation is key, he's been told, but it makes it so much worse.

it takes so long that jacaerys nearly forgets what your voice sounds like, how your eyes shine in the sun. he forgets how your smile, beautiful and uneven, makes his heart flip; the taste of your lips, the cadence of your voice.

he even finds himself praying to the seven for the first time since he was just a babe.

slowly, as you begin to heal, you are permitted to see others. he is not allowed, nor is his mother - daemon first, then baela and rhaena with their grandmother. servants and maids.

he begins to hear you again. walking past the chambers which lie near his own, he'd hear your voice, conversing quietly with maester gerardys. when he dozes off over a strategy tome at his desk, he is jolted awake by your gentle, haunting humming; a tune he used to love.

his mother tells him it is not healthy to keep it in.

but he cannot bring himself to speak of it.

shame, pain, anguish, embarrassment - heartbreak. he has grieved you twice over, seen you become a ghost. he has lost you and lost you again.

herbs, potions, guided discussions and meditations. solitary confinement, exposure to the word - all of this, and you begin to shed the skin of whatever person they had made you into.

he pretends that he does not endure nightmares of that day every time his eyes close - of the glint of your knife, the soulless stare of your eyes. the swelling bruise on your cheek - in the shape of his own fist.

there is a thin scar, a puckered pink line of fresh skin across the apple of his throat the next time he sees you.

it's an accident; he walks past just as a maid leaves your chambers, and he naturally glances over. your eyes meet him, hair wet and fresh from bathing; wide as a sweet doe, pain and regret laced through your gaze. "jace."

his throat is tight when he hears your voice - gentle, laced with remorse. jace, you'd called him. he hides the tears in his eyes when he continues briskly past your chambers. he thinks about you ceaselessly the rest of the day.

he's told you do not sleep. you eat only when it becomes impossible not to, you cannot make meaningful eye contact nor hold steady conversations without breaking down in guilt. it eats away at him.

but as you begin to show signs of improvement, jacaerys is finally allowed to visit.

they're brief, supervised; he brings paintings, books, and anything they believe could help stimulate your memory of life before your change. he tries to ignore the sting of pain when you barely meet his gaze, voice stuttering, hands shaking.

you’re still not you; flickering eyes, quiet voice. but soon, after moons of quiet conversation, stunted by the armored guards standing between you and observing your every move, it changes.

little by little, he sees glimpses of you again. you laugh like you used to. you recount stories of your shared youth - with a grin, you remember the day he'd fallen from an apple tree trying to pick you a fruit, and you'd had to snap his arm into correct place.

you brush flecks of dust and lint from his shoulder with shy looks, you share the books you’ve been reading; one day, you ask him to braid your hair - a task you'd taught him in youth. you fall asleep when he's halfway through.

and yes, there are bad days - days where your grief and guilt eat your stomach and you refuse to even look him in the eye; when you sob into your hands and curl yourself on the chaise longue and jace is stuck, heartbroken, watching you push him away.

you do not forgive yourself, you will not let him forgive you - but you soon let him hold you, and you soon begin to hold him back with a desperate grip.

it takes a while for jace to accept help.

but soon, he undergoes his own healing process; he knows he must reconcile the grief of losing you with the joy of having you back, albeit changed.

eventually, he speaks openly with you about the death of lucerys and about your own assumed death as well. you stroke his hair when he cries into your chest, you kiss his nose and cheeks to rid the tracks of tears.

during quieter moments, you find solace in each other's presence. you walk together in the gardens, hand in hand, your steps in sync as you talk about the future; you sit by the hearth in the evenings, your heads close as you share whispered conversations and stolen glances.

you broach the subject one stormy day, your beautiful hair loose and whipping around your head.

he watches your mind churn behind those eyes, the ones that have regained their expressive nature - the eyes he's loved since before he knew such a word.

"i would have killed you." it's a whisper into the wind. "and yet, you saved my life."

your voice is not grateful - to his horror, it is pained - as if you believe such repentance could only be achieved through greeting the stranger.

he shakes his head, "it was not you who did it." but you've heard it countless times, and you still find it hard to accept - guilt swims in your beautiful eyes.

"i love you." he whispers it.

tears drop from your eyes as you look at him. "why?"

eventually, the fog clears fully.

you remember the details of your manipulation, the torture, the indoctrinating, the conditioning. you confess it all to queen rhaenyra and the dragonstone court - voice shaking and body bent with shame, you apologize for your weakness. jace has to look away when you begin to cry, when you beg for forgiveness, for another chance.

it is given without hesitance.

one evening, you sit by the fire with him.

something upon him catches your eye; with a tentative reach, your fingers brush his chest. jace looks down, breath catching as he realizes what you've found; gently, you pull the necklace from his tunic - a ring upon it, untarnished. your smile is sad, sorrowful - "you kept it," you whisper.

he can only nod, eyes never leaving yours. "i never took it off."

it is that night you tell him about a dream you had; you were both young again, carefree and in love. his eyes glisten with unshed tears just as yours do, and he takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "we'll get there," he promises, his voice unwavering. you both believe it.

you come back to him in ways he doesn't expect.

longing glances, eyes holding on his lips when he speaks to you - short teases that release your sharp tongue and quick wit. you are given some old duties back. kept to the castle, you mostly held draw efforts from within, but he can see the fire in your eyes return as the guilt subsides.

when the word usurper is accidentally used in conversation, eyes still flicker to you. there will remain wariness - conscious or not - for the rest of your days. but you prove yourself loyal and trustworthy, and you soon begin to forgive yourself.

nights you spend in jace's arms, fingers brushing against the scar you'd given him. tears are replaced with soft kisses upon lips, and eventually upon flushed, sweat-laced skin.

he is terrified each time you ride into battle - even when he and vermax are alongside you.

perhaps it is a weakness - to worry so, during a war; he cannot help it. but to his relief, you always come out unscathed, as does he - and you always slide off the wing of your dragon and pull him to you, murmuring into his neck, soothing over his back with your palm once you return.

you love him, and you tell him as much any chance you get. you begin to stop wincing when he tells you he loves you, too.

you still wake sometimes with a hoarse throat, but now you are soothed back to sleep when jace, bleary eyed and heart pounding, crawls into your bed alongside you. your cries turn into soft puffs of breath as he braids your hair until you fall asleep.

you still sometimes flinch when someone raises a hand, jace sometimes watches with wariness when he sees you wielding a knife.

but eventually the war ends.

you and jace marry.

a traditional, valyrian one; dragonglass sliced into lips, palms. a kiss that tastes of metal, of loyalty, of love. you whisper the words to each other, no echo of ghosts nor fear in your minds.

one flesh, one heart, one soul. now and forever.

you become prince and princess of dragonstone, first in line for the succession to the iron throne.

you show to be just rulers; fair and kind, strong willed and bright. ceaselessly, fiercely in love.

your firstborn son is named lucerys.

he has jace's eyes and your hair. you sing him the song jace remembers you humming those days after you came back to them - and when the queen visits to give her congratulations and to meet her grandbabe, the heir to the heir, she calls you daughter.

the scar upon his neck fades away, until you can scarcely trace it with your finger as he pulls you to him in the late hours of eve, wrapped in furs and the soft flicker of candlelight.

you do not hear the word usurper again.

requests open, or talk to me <3 taglist/mutuals; @bitchydragonparadisee @lukehughes43 @rhea-ripley @jottositto @chloe-petrichors @softspiderling @dipperscavern

#requests #jace thoughts ༊*·˚#jace x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jace smut #prince jacaerys #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #jacaerys fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jace fanfic #jace imagine

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nyctoaerah · 7 months ago

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋

╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: Who would've known that the man you spent a night with was the very same man that you're planning to kill? It was a cruel twist of fate, cause as you spent more time with him, you found yourself growing attached-inlove even. But, you ended up knowing the truth about suguru’s death, and the thirst for justice and redemption for Suguru consumed you. The pursuit of absolution drove you to consider any means necessary, even if it meant risking your own well-being, your sanity, your very essence. You were willing to sacrifice everything just to obtain the revenge you so desperately craved, even going as far as to ignore your feelings for Satoru. After all, it doesn't really matter, because Gojo Satoru was yours, he was yours to play with, he was yours to manipulate, and yours to kill, and he’s not complaining about it.

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: explicit smut, dub-con (kinda since they’re drunk) overstimulation, drunk sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (both m and f receiving), dirty talk, nasty shit all that. Virginity loss.

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem! Op! Assassin! Suguru's adopted daughter! Reader

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: This story is the revamped version of my previous fic “Devil in Disguise” it has the same plot, but this one just has a better story flow in my point of view;) also available in Wattpad and Quotev! Hearts and reblogs are greatly appreciated! I already posted this, but this time, i extended it and actually posted the full smut;33 Also, random fact; Gojo’s fingers are canonically 6 inches;)

╰┈➤𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Next chapter

YOU HAD SOUGHT REFUGE in the confines of a random club, craving the numbness that alcohol promised.

You were hoping that the pulsating music vibrating through your bones and swirling burn of alcohol would drown out the hollow emptiness you were feeling, you wanted to push all of your thoughts aside—to forget about Suguru’s death.

Just that, all you wanted was to drink and feel the buzz.

So how did you find yourself in this compromising position, your body entwined with a random man whose name you didn’t even knew?

How did you end up on his lap, on his bed, making out with him?

The kiss was feverish, your tongue sliding sensually against his, the taste of his mouth was reminiscent of the tangy sweetness of freshly ripened strawberries, yet there’s also this faint tang of alcohol, a flavor lingering from his previous indulgence, perhaps.

A needy whine escaped your lips as your hips undulated against his, seeking greater friction.

“So impatient...” He mumbled as one of his hands gripped your hip to keep you in place, while the other hiked the fabric of your dress up to your waist, exposing your bare skin to his heated touch.

“Can i?”

You whispered, your voice barely audible in the dimly lit room. His breath hitched as your fingers grazed the silk blindfold covering his eyes.

“Do as you please pretty girl. I’m all yours.”

You hooked your fingers beneath the bandages and slowly, reverently, lifted it away, revealing eyes half-lidded and swimming with lust.

Long, white lush lashes framed irises the deep, captivating blue of the ocean. Your breath caught in your throat—he looked so exquisitely, devastatingly beautiful without the concealing fabric—He was already pretty with the blindfold on, but gods was he smokin’ hot without it—You’re not sure if you’re just exaggerating things, but fuck, did he looked ethereal.

His snow-white hair tumbled down to veil his face in a curtain, softening the sharp spiky hairstyle he had when he was wearing a blindfold.

You bit your lip, watching as the rounded bump just under the skin in the front of his throat bobs ever so slightly at your intense gaze. A slight flush heats up on his skin, and you touched it, pressing the pads of your fingers on his skin.

You scarcely had a moment to bask in the sight before he took the discarded blindfold from your hand and let it fall to the floor, forgotten.

His mouth explored the sensitive column of your neck, tongue tracing lazy, meandering paths.

You arched into his touch slightly, wanting for more contact, craving the delicious friction that might ease the aching tension coiled low in your belly.

“You sure that this is what you want princess?” His silky baritone caressed your ear as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your shoulders.

“I don’t wanna take advantage of you, not when you’re drunk.”

“Mhm.. m’ sure.”

Though the drink had clouded your mind, beneath the shallows of intoxication stirred a deeper craving—something you never felt before, you’re sure that you wanted him.

“I’m not drunk.”

His brows arched in doubt as his hand glides down your spine with practiced care, finding the clasp that holds your dress in place, the clasp yields to his deft fingers, baring your flesh to his exploring gaze.

“Your words say yea, angel, but i don’t want no dubious consent. I want full consent.”

“No, S’ not dubious, you have my full consent.” you murmur, trailing your hands along his neck, tracing the pulsing vein in it before your hands dipped down and slipped beneath the hem of his shirt. Your fingers trace slow circles over his taut abs, feeling the contours of hard muscle and flush skin.

His body was warm, and quite nice, comforting even.

He shivers at your delicate touch—which you found to be quite cute.

You found his words weird, however—It contrasts with his actions, that’s for sure.

“I want you, okay?” you breathed on his ear, eliciting a visible response upon his flesh as shivers caressed his form. He swallowed with effort, aroused yet wary, cognizant of the libations which dulled your inhibitions as his own.

Satoru was in no means a person who likes alcohol, he hates it, infact, however, he ended up drinking, just in hopes to forget about Suguru.

Very much like you so.

But he didn’t really expected that he would end up having a woman on his lap, not that he’s complaining, ofcourse. You’re quite beautiful after all.

“Hey...It’s still dubious, can be counted as non-consensual too. Cause you’re drunk. I don’t wanna take advantage of you, okay?” He said.

You fixated your gaze on him, a brief moment of silent observation passing between you. His movements, though tinged with a subtle languor, was filled with restraint, that surpassed your own faltering self-control.

“Nope.”

you insist softly.

“I’m not drunk.”

His eyes smolder as he considers your flushed cheeks and parted lips.

“Your speech is slurred.”

“Nope, S’just an effect from you,” You replied with a lopsided grin.

“You take my breath away.” You mumbled, prompting him to blink owlishly down at you.

“Random as fuck.” He chuckled.

“But, i’ll take it. Just tell me to stop and i’ll stop, yeah?”

Your heart fluttered rapidly at his words, and a faint blush crept onto your cheeks as you swallowed thickly, your throat suddenly felt too tight, too dry.

After all, You hadn’t expected such considerate behavior after everything, such genteel conduct took you aback.

“Safeword?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady.

“hm.. Strawberry?” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

“Wait...” you say, craving the taste of his name on your tongue, “I still don’t know your name”

His brow lifts in amusement.

“Would you scream it if i were to tell you?”

You shivered as his warm breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck His lips hovered so tantalizingly close that you could almost feel his ghostly touch against your skin, tempting you to lean into it.

“Don’t worry. I won’t leave any marks, unless you want me to..?” His voice was velvety smooth, laced with a hint of lust, causing a flutter in the pit of your stomach.

“Do you want me to?” He murmurs, slowly withdrawing his touch from your skin.

You hesitantly lift your shoulders in response, shrugging.

“Speak, angel, use your words.”

“I’m fine with anything,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

A pleasant hum escaped him. “Good girl.”

You looked at him, pupils dilating slightly.

“You never answered my question though. What’s your name?” you uttered softly, your fingertips caressing the contours of his abdominal musculature in delicate strokes, tracing upwards towards his pectorals. As your hands explored the topography of his torso, drawing sensual patterns across his flesh, his breathing became heavier. He let out a hum of approval, hooking his fingers beneath the hem of his garment and lifting it swiftly over his head in one fluid motion and discarding his shirt on the ground.

You lifted your gaze to meet his, your eyes instinctively drawn to the pale line bisecting his torso. The scar was long, yet its texture intrigued you. How did he got it, you wondered. The scar was long, begining from his throat towards his lower abdomen.

It fascinated you.

You swallowed thickly.

“Can i touch it...?”

“Do whatever you want. I’m all yours.”

Your fingers drifted slowly along its length.

“Satoru,”

“My name is Satoru.” he uttered the name, and for some reasons, each syllable was laced with a familiarity that tugged at the edges of your memory, muddling your thoughts with a sense of déjà vu.

But you were too loss in the moment, not even able to think clearly, thus, you were oblivious to the fact that...

He’s the person that you’re planning to assassinate.

“That’s a pretty name,” you breathed, your pulse quickening at his caress.

“I’m pretty sure yours is pretty too.” he replied with a soft smile, his blue eyes staring intensely at yours as his thumb swept slowly along your lower lip, parting them like the velvet petals of a rose. An intoxicating shiver ran through your body at his delicate touch.

“[Name],” You mumble and he sighs.

“Sounds like a good name to groan about.”

He murmured and lifted you off him and lied you amongst the silken pillows, your [H/c] tresses fanned out, forming a vivid halo around your flushed features. His eyes lingered over your form, his tongue swiping on his lower lip to moisten them.

“Alright, Just say the safeword, and i’ll stop, yeah?” He says, earning a nod from you.

“Speak.”

“M-mnh.. yes”

“Good girl.” He praised softly.

“I’ll do all the work, yeah? Just lay down there like a good girl n’ let me please you.”

Slowly, his lips brushed the skin of your neck, eliciting a sigh from you. his fingertips traced your spine down to the clasp of your bra, and a quiet flick of experient fingers released the barrier, freeing your chest to his hungry gaze.

“Beautiful.” He complimented.

His fingertips leisurely caress delicate circles around your nipples, coaxing a delicious ache of pleasure to ignite. He lavishes attentions on one nipple, drawing it into his mouth while his nimble digits continue their expert ministrations on its twin, evoking an unabashed moan to escape your quivering lips.

He lets go off your nipples with a pop.

Starting at the base of your sternum, he planted slow, sensuous kisses, inching ever lower towards regions still untouched. When he reached your stomach, he placed a gentle kiss on your belly button.

Moving away from the bed with graceful precision, he knelt before your quivering form and slid greedy hands along your thighs, grasping your hips to pull you on the edge of the bed, so that his head was completely positioned between your legs. A wanton moan escaped you then as he lifted one leg high, draping it over his broad shoulder.

“Relax, f’me pretty girl.” He said, after noticing how tense your body is.

You watched, enamoured as he pressed a line of searing kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh—he looked so pretty while doing that.

He hummed as he saw the dampness in your underwear.

“Look at you,” he chuckled breathily.

“All we did was kiss, n’ you’re already soakin’ wet.”

His lips traced delicate patterns along your thigh, each fleeting caress like liquid fire on your fevered skin.

Fuck, who would’ve known that he’ll turn you in a whining mess with just his kisses?

Humiliation blooms in your throat as you realized how pathetic you are right now, You clasped a hand over your flushed visage, heart pounding erratically against your ribs.

Satoru seemed displeased with that though.

“Hey, none of ‘that” He scolds.

“Lemme see your pretty face.”

You took a ragged breath, though anticipation swirled within you, nervousness lingered at your edges. But then, this is what you wanted isn’t it?

“I-i don’t wanna.”

He scoffs and shifted his weight, pressing you further into the pillows.

“Do it.” He says.

You shook your head and he sighs.

“If y’don’t take your hands off your face, i’ll tie you up n’ fuck you till you can’t walk.”

“ S’ that what you want angel?”

“No..” You sighed, not wanting to get tied up, you slowly curled your fingers away from your flushed face.

“You’re so shameless...” You mumble.

“Yeah, no shame at all. Why would i be shameful of myself when I have a pretty lil’ thing like you under me? All soakin’ wet n’ pretty.”

“Besides... I know you like it anyways,” He mumbled.

Satoru’s tongue, hot and wet, darted out to leave a scorching trail against the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

You sighed, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation.

“Open your eyes n’ look at me, pretty.”

“I want you to look at me while i eat you out.”

This is so embarrassing and humiliating that it hurts, your throat constricts, his words makes you embarrassed, he was just so blunt, so shameless—he was all so sweet and using romantic words when you’re just kissing.

But fuck, did satoru changed once you gave him your consent, pressin’ you on the sheets like that and saying filthy words.

You reluctantly fluttered your lashes open to meet his stare, laying yourself bare as fingertips ghosted ever higher.

“See? That’s a good girl. Now just lie there princess, let me make you feel good.”

You felt yourself swallowing thickly as he hooked nimble fingers into the lacy edge of your undergarments, sliding the delicate fabric down your legs.

It was slow, agonizingly slow, too slow for your own liking.

Your body suddenly involuntarily jolted as a wave of his scorching breath caressed the intimate flesh between your legs.

“So pretty..” His words were a low murmur, infused with a hunger that made humiliation to bubble up your chest, feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t... don’t stare,” you murmur back, feeling self conscious, flush of embarrassment tinged your cheeks, your hips shifting involuntarily beneath his intense gaze.

“Don’t stare... S’ making me embarrassed.”

With a devilish smirk dancing on his lips, he gave another teasing lick on your thighs. Satoru wouldn’t lie, he wanted to bite your thigh so bad, sink his teeth on your plush thighs, and leave a mark, but he restrained himself from doing so.

“No, m’not staring love, just... studying, don’t be embarrassed” he murmured almost innocently, his words a stark contrast to the boldness of his actions.

“Besides... You’re so beautiful in here... You just can’t just expect me to not compliment it.” He says.

You shook your head. “It’s not that... It’s just.. i.. i haven’t done this before.” You mumble.

“Haven’t done oral before?” He questioned, watching as your face burned as you shook your head.

“I’m a virgin.” You confirmed.

His sapphire eyes widened at your confession and his throat constricts, adams apple bobbing in his throat.

The revelation caught him off guard, each breath he took feeling like a fleeting gasp of surprise. He had not expected this revelation, not from you. Your actions had spoken of confidence and skill, and, damn, you sure did like a seductress.

His hand twitched, the pads of his fingers pressing on your thighs slightly.

“No wonder you’re so shy...”

He pulled back slightly, a tinge of guilt creeping into his consciousness at the notion of overwhelming you. Aware that his dirty words may be foreign to your ears, he gazes upon you with a mixture of empathy and desire.

“We can stop this if you want.” he offers, his gaze intense and probing.

“Shit no.” you murmur.

“Don’t stop. I want you.” The words escape your lips in a breathy whisper, laden with lust, restraint flickers in his eyes, as he caught his lower lip on his teeth.

“If you say so. I have a thing for popping cherries anyways,” He says with a laugh.

Your breath suddenly caught in your throat as his thumb glided teasingly over your clit.

A playful chuckle escaped his lips at your sensitivity, before he leaned in once again, his warm breath ghosting over your heated skin as he kissed your clit.

“Sensitive, are we?” he chuckles softly before dipping down to give your throbbing clit yet another teasing lick, releasing a desperate whimper from your parted lips.

His fingers gently spread apart your folds, his face inches away as his tongue teases your slit, the wet muscles licks the slick trail that has gathered on your pussy, eliciting soft whimpers from you as your body instinctively responds with a slight arching of your hips.

“aah.. hnngh, satoru” You mewled.

“You taste so good... heavenly even.”

With another tantalizing lick, he savors the exquisite taste of your arousal. His hungry mouth then latches onto your pulsating clit, sucking on it gently. Moans escaped your parted lips as you clutch onto the sheets.

He devoured you as if starved, his hunger palpable in each expert lick and fervent suck, transforming you into a feast he couldn’t devour quickly enough—Your moans were like delicious music to his ears, and fuck, did it it make him hard. He whines, grinding against the edge of the bed, seeking friction.

“I can just eat you out everyday and not get tired of it...” he moaned shamelessly, his voice slightly muffled as your hips bucked involuntarily, a whimper of pleasure escaping your lips.

“Love your taste so much.”

Satoru’s tongue moved skillfully around your clit, softly brushing against it to send shivers down your spine. With deliberate movements, he gently licked it in distinct patterns, exploring your most sensitive spots.

His fingers grip tightly onto your hip, while he eagerly indulges in pleasuring and sucking on your bundle of nerves, causing a titillating sensation that makes your inner muscles contract and a surge of euphoria creates a swirling sensation in your stomach.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, pretty girl?” satoru whispers, his words muffled by his persistent oral ministrations. As he continues to pleasure you with unwavering determination, the pleasure he evokes from within you cannot be contained, escaping your lips in the form of unrestrained moans. The pleasure becomes so overwhelming that it threatens to engulf your vision, as though a curtain of stars is poised to blind you from the outside world.

“Fuck, Satoru, i-i’m.. haaah..” You panted, thighs shaking as your insides contracts, a tingling sensation radiating on your body.

“I know. C’mon. Cum for me, angel. Lemme taste you on my tongue,”

You let out a deep moan, succumbing to the intense climax as you cum hard. Radiating satisfaction, satoru hummed contentedly while skillfully lapping up every trace of your released essence.

“You taste like heaven itself, just like i thought...” he whispered, his voice filled with longing, as he withdrew from your pussy and stood up and pressed his lips against yours. The taste of your own cum lingered on his mouth, intoxicating and arousing, causing you to moan in pleasure before surrendering to his passionate kiss.

As the two of you kissed, his touch ventured lower, his hand finding its way to your puffy clit again, rubbing it, prompting a chorus of moans from you.

Your breath hitched when you felt his middle finger probing your hole gathering your slick before slowly pushing inside.

“Breathe.” He whispers.

“Hngnh, Satoru.” You whined on his mouth as he added another, his fingers were so long and thick, filling you so deliciously. The sensation of his fingers stretching you from within was intense and slightly painful, yet somehow enjoyable in its own way.

“You’re so tight, you gotta relax n’ let me in.”

You bit his tongue, causing him to let out a low moan.

“There.. you gotta adjust.. that’s it, good girl.” He murmurs, whispering sweet nothings into you.

Satoru’s cock throbbed painfully beneath his straining trousers, yet he focused solely on pleasuring you, expertly thrusting his fingers in and out of you. When he grazed upon a certain tender zone, an eyebrow arched knowingly as your riven flesh clenched tightly around his digits as he pulled away for a bit.

“Ahn.. hnn please,” You panted.

“Oh?” He purred slyly.

“Hm? Is something wrong?” He murmured, once more curling his finger upwards and pressing that spot within your pussy, drawing forth a lustrous moan as your arched your velvet back in pleasure.

“You tightened around me, did i hit a good spot?”

“this is where you’re weak, isn’t it?” His digits thrust rhythmically into your inner sanctum, coaxing ever more ardent moans of euphoria from your lips.

“How cute.”

A molten pool of desire gathered low in your belly, waves of euphoria washing over your trembling frame.

Satoru bit his lip as his hand slid stealthily down within his own constrained trousers, swiftly freeing his engorged member to pump smoothly within his curled fingers.

His thumb smeared the precum that was leaking on the tip, using it as a lube to slowly jerk off.

“Aahh... Fuck..” he moaned gutturally, his fingers, still buried deep within your moisture-slicked cunt, he withdrew his fingers sluggishly and raised it languidly to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste your essence.

“C’mere.” he says, sitting upright and patting his lap

His voice was ragged with want as he beckoned you closer. You rose from the rumpled bedsheets and moved to him, sitting on his lap, feeling the heat of his gaze as it roamed your naked form.

“Kiss me.” He commands.

You immediately kissed him, the taste of your essence still upon his mouth, and it made butterflies fluttering in your stomach. His cock pressed against your skin as he stroked himself.

“haah... Feel that princess? ’m so hard for you”

Breaking the kiss, you gazed down at satoru, drinking in his beauty as your fingers traced the lines of his chiselled abdomen, following each dip and swell. Your mouth followed the path of your hand, pressing feathery kisses along the scar that he had, revelling in each hitch of his breath and twitch of muscle beneath your ministrations.

Your gaze then lingered on his cock, admiring its size and girth. The tip was flushed red with arousal, and it twitched at your gaze, you pushed his hand away from it.

He seemed to be surprised at that—yet didn’t make a move to stop you.

“Ah, Ah? Did i told you that you can touch me?” He teased.

You nipped on your lower lip, as you tentatively wrapped your hand around his shaft, marveling at its sheer thickness that challenged your grip.

“No... But i wanted to touch you.” You mumbled, You ache for deeper intimacy, craving the solace of flesh against flesh in your drunken haze.

“Mmnh.. maybe if you’re really that desperate... Maybe i should just give it to you, hm?”

“Tell me what you want.” he says, his fingers entwining in your hair, tugging gently to lift your gaze to his. A moan escapes you.

“You,” you manage to breathe out, the craving evident in your eyes. His eyebrow quirks.

“Be specific.” he murmurs, his tone commanding and seductive.

“I wanna please you too,” you confess, your words laced with need—all the shyness from before leaving you, only lust remains. He exhales heavily, releasing his hold on your hair.

“So eager to please aren’t you? Such a good girl.”

He hums.

“Go on. Suck me off, show me what that pretty little mouth can do.”

As you followed his command, you delicately bent down and rested your head on his cock. Extending your tongue, you dragged the flat of your tongue and traced the vein that prominently bulged on the underside of his dick.

Your tongue slowly traced a path up his shaft, moving towards the tip. With anticipation, you opened your mouth to take him in, feeling a bit of discomfort as you adjusted to his size. It took some time for your jaw to accommodate the width of his girth as his tip brushed against the back of your throat.

You looked only to see that he was only half way in, and shit, you just realized how much he’s gonna hurt your throat.

“Ngh.. you gotta relax your throat if you want to take me in your mouth.” he moans, sensing your discomfort as you struggle not to gag. Following his instruction, you comply, feeling Satoru's sharp intake of breath as he nips his lip in pleasure.

Despite the sensation being pleasing, it's clear that he craves more.

“C’mon angel, take me deeper.” he urges softly, his fingers entangling on your [H/c] locks, his gaze fixated on your hollowed cheeks and watery eyes. The sight of your tears only serves to fuel his desire to push himself further into your mouth, relishing the idea of watching you Choke on him. The thought of you looking so enticing in that vulnerable state drives him to actually thrust himself deeper down your throat.

Satoru thrusts upwards, causing your throat to constrict as you struggled to breathe. Tears ran down your cheeks and saliva dripped onto his shaft.

“Breathe through your nose.” He instructs.

“That’s it,” he uttered with a sensual groan, his eyes half-closed as he guided your head to move back and forth on his dick. He licked his lips, observing you as you found it difficult to deepthroat him.

He hummed contentedly, the room filled with nasty squelching sounds. He savored the feeling of your throat tightening around his cock like a vice.

Such a poor thing, he thought, feeling your fingers dig into his thighs. He ran his fingers through your [H/c] tresses before slowly withdrawing from your mouth with an audible pop, a strand of viscous fluid on your lips cheeks flushed and eyes dewy.

“That’s enough, i don’t want you vomitting on my dick.”

Gingerly, he swept the disheveled locks from your face and captured your lips once more, not giving you a time to recover, humming as he tasted himself on you. When at last you broke for air, chests heaving in unison, he met your hooded gaze with a glint of intrigue.

“You suck at this.” A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as his strong hands found your waist.

“M’ sorry,”

You shuddered involuntarily as his fingers delicately traced the contours of your neck, eliciting a chill that radiated through your trembling form. Soft whimpers escaped your quivering lips.

“Shhh..” he cooed in a velvet tenor, his palm softly gliding along your side before his digits pressed deeply into the plush of your ass. A small gasp passed through your slightly parted mouth at the fervent sensation of his fingernails gingerly clawing your supple skin.

“I know that y’wanna please me.”

“But there is no need to overexert yourself,” he said as if he wasn’t the one who practically shoved your face down on his dick.

“I enjoyed it,”

“D-did you?” you inquired.

“Fuck yes, your throat’s squeezin’ me so tight n’ it feels good.”

A swelling sensation arose within your thorax as elation is in your throat, though an acute pain seized your esophagus. Your larynx felt inflamed and raw, as if scoured by sandpaper. But despite the troubles afflicting your throat, you had performed admirably based on his praise, you felt proud.

“Maybe i should reward you for bein’ so good?” he purrs, his hand sliding from your stomach down to your lower abdomen, a low hum escaping his lips as he plunges his fingers into your hole. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as he begins to curl his fingers inside you, pressing against your g-spot and stretching you again. As moments pass, he withdraws his fingers, your slick coating them entirely.

“I think you’re more than ready.”

“Let’s get you on top, yeah?” he says lifting your form to straddle his hard cock.

He reveled in the sight of you nestled against his towering frame, a delicate contrast to his strong physique. Each ragged gasp you drew in, every flush on your face, and the smudged remnants of makeup only served to enhance your allure in his eyes.

“C’mon, take me in.” he says, kissing your cheek. “Just hold onto me”

Your response was a subtle bite to your lower lip, a silent surrender as you obediently placed your trembling hand on his firm neck, burying your heated countenance in the sanctuary of his shoulder.

“Hm...”

He hoists you up slightly, his firm hand wrapped around his cock, guiding it towards the heat between your thighs. The tip of his arousal brushes against your clit, eliciting a fervent sigh as you inadvertently dig your nails into his muscular back.

“Ready?”

A soft whimper escapes your parted lips as he slowly eases into you, the initial entrance is a searing burn, it burns deliciously as he splits you open.

You sunk your teeth into his shoulder, the searing sensation reverberating through you as his cock pressed against your cervix with a tantalizing ache. “Relax, let me in.” his whispered command brushed against your nape, his lips trailing kisses as his fingers drew deliberate circles upon your quivering skin.

“It’s... it's too much,” you gasped, the overwhelming fullness causing you to scrabble at his back, your nails digging into flesh as you felt the sting of tears welling in your eyes.

“T-too much, ‘Toru, please,” You writhe

“C’mon, You can handle it,” He remained motionless, allowing you the space to acclimate to the invasion, his warm breath ghosting over your ear as he urged you to yield.

“Relax, pretty, let me in.”

Your head swims with a dizzying blend of pleasure as you feel him deep inside you, his hand venturing downward to circle and massage your clit. Gradually, you begin to acclimate And he exhales in pleasure as he revels in the tight clench of your walls around him, the exquisite sensation coiling through him.

“Do you feel that?”

“You’re taking it so well,” he groans.

“It fits so perfectly well isn’t it? It’s like you were made for me.” he whispered.

“Alrighty, time to move okay ? Put your back into it.” he gripped your hips firmly, he guides your body to ebb and flow along his dick.

“Up, down.”

You couldn’t help but let out a loud moan as you felt the heat of his rigid cock gliding inside of you . His hips bucked, setting a quickened pace that had your breath hitching in pure ecstasy. Your eyes fluttered shut as each powerful thrust hit that sweet spot deep inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being.

“‘Toru, ‘Toru” You whined his name.

“Pl-please," you gasped, your voice laced with need, as you instinctively dug your nails into his muscular back, raking them down with a delicious sting.

“I need… I need you to… kiss me,” you managed to murmur.

“You want me in your mouth too, hm?” He teased before pressing his lips against yours, your teeths clashing together.

“Fuckk, that’s it...”

His soft expletive escaped his lips as he reluctantly withdrew from the intoxicating embrace of your mouth. His hands slid down the curves of your waist, mesmerized by the sight of his cock moving rhythmically within you.

“Your lips taste like ambrosia,” he murmured, his words accompanied by the clenching of your inner muscles around him.

Fuck, he was drunk in your sounds, drunk in the way you feel, you were just so heavenly.

“C’mon, cum. I know you want to.” he coaxed, a low moan escaping him as he felt your body shudder in ecstasy, tightening around him as you cum hard.

The sensation of your climax sent a jolt of pleasure through him, his own release building rapidly. His abdominal muscles clenched as he inhaled sharply, the intensity of the moment overwhelming him.

“Fuck.. can I... inside?” he asked in a whimpery voice, seeking your permission in a breathless whisper. You, lost in a haze of pleasure, simply nodded in acquiescence. With a guttural groan, he emptied himself into you.

Even as he already released, his pace did not falter, fucking you as if you’re his little human fleshlight. His grip on your waist tightened as he deftly shifted your positions, swiftly flipping you over so that you were beneath him.

“Let’s go for another.”

━━𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋

Your respiration came in uneven gasps as your tongue lolled delicately from your mouth. Your visage was flushed a deep scarlet and a sheen of perspiration coated your form. Your gaze, though half-lidded with lust, remained trained attentively upon him. Situated backwards upon his lap, your legs were parted widely as he nestled his face against your scapular region. Your hands clung desperately to his biceps.

One of his hands rested upon the slender column of your throat, while the other rests on your chest, playing with your nipples. His cock thrusts rhythmically into your inner sanctum the tip of his dick kissing your pretty little cervix, coaxing ever more ardent melodies of euphoria from your lips.

His hand slid down your body, a subtle pressure teasing the soft curve of your abdomen as he pressed against the small bulge on her abdomen.

“Haah... Fuck.. you feel me in there pretty? M’ so deep in you.”

He let out a low moan, his grip tightening around your hip as he intensified his rhythm.

Satoru’s respiration was labored, eyelids weighed down as his lips caressed your shoulders delicately. Crimson marks peppered your skin where his mouth had wandered voraciously. Your back met his chest in a slow slide, your skin kissing his.

The sound of heavy breathing, moans, and skin slapping against each other vibrated through the room.

Your thighs ached dully and muscles sore from prior exultations.

“mnhh.. ‘Toruu, please,” You mewled, squirming.

“M’ tired already, Please... S’ too much.”

You two have been going on it for some quite time now, how many times did he made you cum again? Was it six times? You can distinctly recall experiencing orgasm twice from his tongue, once from his fingers, and three times from his cock. The sensation of being stretched caused considerable discomfort, even though he took the time to prepare you, it still stung.

“Mnh.. my poor angel is tired, huh?” satoru uttered in a mellifluous tone, tracing the swirling contours of your auricle with the tip of his tongue before affixing an ardent kiss on the pulsing carotid beneath.

“Don’t worry.” Satoru says.

“I’ll take care of you after this... So, just be a good girl and take it all, okay?”

Satoru had already become enraptured in the way you tasted and sounded, drunk on the melodic chorus of gasps and moans that spilled wantonly from you. Though sobriety had returned to claim his clarity of mind once more, for you intoxication still lingered and he knew it.

He wanted to stop, but how could he? You were squeezin’ and taking him so good and deep, and he just needed this release after the suguru incident after all.

He was having too much fun in splitting you in half after all.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

AUTHORS NOTE:

I CAN'T BELIEVE I WROTE THIS SJKSKSJS, fun fact; i’m an asexual virgin. It's so funny writing this HAHHAHAHA, i literally CACKLED when i was writing “pussy, cunt, cock,” AHHSHSHAH MY IMMATURITY COULD NEVER😭 I WOULD KMS IF I EVER ADDED BALLS.💀

427 notes · View notes

heian-era-housewife · 3 months ago

Text

Synopsis | How will Shiu react when he learns that you, his mate, are packing the heat in more ways than one while on a dangerous mission with friend and fellow assassin Toji Fushiguro?

Content | mdni 18+, omega!(f)reader x alpha!shiu, smut, fingering, masturbation, sex (p in v), knotting, biting, swearing, guns, blood, sweaty!shirtless!toji

Word Count | ~3.6k

"Got your gun, wallet, keys?" Shiu asked as you slid from his passenger seat.

"Isn't it supposed to be 'phone', wallet, keys?" You questioned.

"Not when you're an assassin," he smirked. You returned his smile, patting the firearm on your hip. Leaning in to place a goodbye kiss on your forehead, he flinched as his lips made contact with your feverish brow.

"Woah! You feeling alright, doll?" He asked.

"I think so. Why?"

"You're burning up!" He exclaimed, reaching foreward with the back of his hand. "You sure you can do this today?"

"I'll be fine," you reassured him. "Besides, me and Toji spent weeks lining up this hit. Not like I'm going to flake out over a little fever."

As your mate and handler, Shiu knew exactly how capable and deadly you really were. Even so, few people in your line of work believed an omega could make a good operative and, while he pitied those who foolishly chose to underestimate you, he also knew you had a tendency to push yourself beyond your limits.

He shot you an analyzing look before saying, "You just call me if you need anything, okay?" You gave his hand an affirming squeeze. "And hey," he added, "tell Fushiguro to take good care of you!"

"You know I won't!" You chuckled as you closed the door and watched him drive off.

"Hey, Fireball" Toji called out a few minutes later as you reached your meeting point.

"It was one time!" You scoffed at the nickname he'd given you after a particularly sideways mission where you'd fired off a shot inside a pyrotechnics storehouse.

Toji was your partner and friend. A rare exception to the alphas who questioned your skill as an assassin. Having known Shiu for over a decade, he was practically family. So it was with both confusion and a little concern that you watched his eyes darken as you approached.

"You feeling okay?" He asked, voice suddenly serious.

"Would everyone quit asking me that?" You rolled your eyes.

"It's just...nevermind." He trailed off. "Let's do this, yeah?"

"Hell yeah!"

Toji's target was sighted, barrel aligned perfectly with the mark's left temple. Even from a distance you knew Toji was a perfect shot and you tended to think of his victims in the past tense long before he ever even pulled the trigger.

But something was off.

His fingers were twitchy, eyes darting to meet yours every few seconds, a bead of sweat ran capriciously down his neck. He had already realigned the shot three times. You watched the muscles in Toji's jaw flex as he swallowed. Hard.

"What's wrong?" You mouthed, catching his attention from where you crouched, just out of the target's line of sight.

He gave you a look. Nothing more. A hint of panic in his calculating glare.

It was out of character and unsettling. What was he seeing that you weren't? The two of you, typically so in sync, seemingly worlds apart in the mission's most critical moment.

It made you uncomfortable. Itchy, almost. You squirmed restlessly in your post, hot distress churning your gut as your fever intensified. You quietly fanned your face, looking back only to see Toji had disappeared.

Where the hell...?

Your fanning became frenzied as you scanned for your partner. Just then, two large hands reached from the shadows behind you. With strength and speed, one clasped your wrist, halting your movements, while the other pressed firmly over your mouth.

"Mmh!"

"Shhhhh" Toji's breath prickled your neck as he pulled you in closer to his chest.

Straining to peer over your shoulder against his vice-like grip, you nearly gasped when you met his eyes. Inky black with pupils blown in a feral expression. Beads of shimmering sweat forming a glistening crown over his forehead. Nostrils flaring with ragged breaths he was fighting to keep quiet, chest heaving.

You felt nauseous and lightheaded, overwhelmed by the feeling you'd seen this look somewhere before. Fucked out. Rabid. Hungry.

His panting breaths tickled the mark on the base of your neck.

That's when it hit you. You had seen this before. About a year ago to be exact, when Shiu became your mate. Dawning realization crashed down in suffocating waves. You weren't sick. You were in heat. Too inexperienced to recognize the signs, as it was only your second. In an instant, everything made sense, the subtle clues of the morning drawing together- pheromones now pulsing off of you, hot and steady.

Suddenly you wanted nothing more than to be in the care and safety of your mate. Instead, you found yourself caught in the midst of a dangerous mission, bound in the arms of Japan's most deadly predator. And he wasn't letting go. Your heart began to race as you writhed in his grip.

"Mngh!!!"

"Don't move!" Toji urged. Then, pointing, he whispered,"He can smell you." Your target's head was now tipped back, nose to the air, inhaling deeply.

In your panic, you'd nearly forgotten about the man before you.

Toji wasn't the threat here. It was him. The one you'd come here to kill. An experienced alpha, Toji figured it all out before you had- your fever, your scent. Now he was protecting you in spite of whatever carnal urges were clawing at the inner workings of his alpha instincts.

Slowly, he released you as you allowed yourself to relax slightly in his grip.

"Stay still," he said using your shoulder to support his shaking hands while he rearranged the grip on his gun. He knelt behind you steadying his breath, concentrating.

Having caught your scent, the man you had been sent to kill pivoted slowly in place, homing in on your location. Aware that he was not alone, he reached slowly for his own sidepiece, pulling it quietly from its holster.

Despite his prowess, Toji was a mess. Hands trembling, heart pounding, the situation growing ever more dire. Keeping your eyes on the target, you reached up, taking Toji's hands in your own. Working together, you steadied his hold, wrapping your trigger finger over his.

"Ready?" You breathed.

Just then the target spotted you both, aiming his weapon with hasty imprecision and firing indiscriminately in your direction.

You didn't wait for Toji's answer. Squeezing your finger over his you made the shot and watched as the man folded to the cold concrete where he stood- a single red mark centered perfectly on his forehead.

You were only allowed a moment of calm, however, before another volley of shots came ripping through the warehouse in your direction, sending you and Toji scattering from your ill-concealed hideout.

The man's cronies came spilling in through the warehouse, no-doubt having heard the commotion within. Bits of fractured concrete rained down in a barrage of powdery shrapnel while metal storage containers sent bullets ricocheting in a deadly hailstorm all around you. Dodging the bombardment, you and Toji returned fire with varied success. Fear and adrenaline had taken your heat to critical mass, your scent acting as an unwanted beacon for your whereabouts. Your thoughts swam with visions of Shiu, concentration wavering as your very flesh ached in desperation for your mate.

"Need you to do something for me, Fireball." Toji panted as the two of you ran for cover. Rounding a corner, he pulled you in against the side of a shipping container, suddenly ripping off his sweat-drenched shirt. Heaving chest glistening, he stared at you expectantly and for a fleeting moment you thought he'd lost his mind. Then, clarifying his intentions, he held out the wadded up shirt. "Put this on, hurry!"

The effect was immediate. While it couldn't obscure your scent entirely, nor for very long, the footsteps that gave chase from your unseen assailants fell further and further behind while the bullets went from “near-miss” to “not even close”. Seizing your opportunity, the two of you ducked out the nearest exit, not once looking back until you'd reached Toji's car parked several blocks away.

Once in the car Toji sat, hands tight on the steering wheel, until his breathing became somewhat steady. You were sitting shotgun, face pressed to the cool window, desperate for a bit of relief.

“Call Shiu,” Toji said, handing you his phone. “Tell him we're coming to meet him. Spare the details if you can.”

You let out a cynical chuckle. Shiu was an ex-detective and a damn good one at that. Connecting the dots was his very nature, details or otherwise. With trembling hands, you dialed his number.

“Fushiguro, what's-?”

“Shiu, it's me.”

“Are you oka-”

“I'm in heat,” you blurted out. Toji slapped a palm to his forehead.

“Where are you? Are you with…” His voice trailed off, realization turning his stomach. “Let me talk to him.” His voice formidable and cold as ice. You handed the phone to Toji, collapsing into the seat while you listened to one side of the conversation.

“Look, we can't stay here,” Toji barked, “we'll get found out. We'll have to meet you halfway.” There was silence as he listened to Shiu's reply. Then, voice somber and serious he said, “You know I would never. You have my word…You can trust me.”

You were half-gone by the time the car's engine roared to life. Sick with need and drenched in sweat, you mewled your discomfort with each passing mile. It was humiliating. You, an assassin, clinging shamelessly to Toji's shirt for comfort, thighs pressed firmly together as throbbing pressure gave way to sweet-smelling pools of slick. An ache like you'd never felt radiated from your core. You needed one thing and one thing only- to be bred.

Toji, meanwhile, was having his own set of troubles. For fear of attracting unwanted attention, he kept the windows up forcing himself to take the brunt of your aroma, his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel doing little to ground himself. Half-dressed and half-baked in your intoxicating scent, it became increasingly difficult to keep his mind and his eyes on the road. Before long, a strangled sound escaped his lips. Then another, and another, giving way to a string of faint whimpers Toji prayed you wouldn't hear.

Several miles in, you'd fallen into a sleep-like state, overcome by sickly exhaustion. On one occasion you stirred, breaking the silence with a mumbled plea.

“I need him,” you begged.

“I know, Fireball.” Toji croaked.

He'd done so well to contain himself. Denied and rejected every primal urge that gnawed at his raging libido. But whatever obstinance was left- whatever dredges of chivalry and self-respect he could muster- all dissolved at the sound of your desperate voice. In that one instant, a hot rush flooded his aching shaft sending it skyward in a shameful display of powerful lust. Shifting in his seat, he tried to hide it but it was no use. He was touch starved and ravenous. Desperate for friction where his throbbing tip pressed angry tears to the front of his pants that bloomed in darkened stains as they soaked through. Sparing you a sideways glance, he hoped you wouldn’t see as he began to palm the front of his pants. With one hand on the steering wheel, the other pumped his cock through the fabric of his sweats. Visions unfolded like a wet dream before him. Your sweet-smelling cunt swallowing his alpha cock. His knot stretching you past your limits. His teeth baring down on your mark, changing its shape, making you his.

“Toji,” you whispered, eyes still closed, unaware of his thoughts and actions. His whole body tensed at the sound of his name, snapping him back to reality. Jaw clenching in forced restraint, he replied with a hoarse, “Yeah?”.

“You're a good friend.” You finished kindly, your words coming down on him like a bucket of ice water. He'd nearly lost himself. Nearly betrayed that friendship.

“The fuckin’ best.” He said, kicking himself for his lapse in restraint. Reduced to a sweating, trembling, whimpering mess, Toji forged ahead determined to see his mission through and deliver you to the waiting arms of your mate.

Shiu paced next to his parked car, worry written over his face in deep lines. Just the sight of him sent a rush of slick spilling onto the seat beneath you. You surged with yearning as Toji gripped the steering wheel with a final anguished groan, aligning his driver's side door with an eagerly awaiting Shiu.

The two men exchanged a look through the tinted glass. Stark serious. Tense. Toji's blown pupils and desperate expression framed by sweat-flattened hair that dripped to his bare chest below. An accusatory fire boiled in Shiu's beating chest and glinted behind his hardened stare. For a minute, he thought he might punch his friend. Might just kill him then and there for whatever atrocities he may have committed. But as Toji opened the door, Shiu was nearly overcome with pheromones that burst from the vehicle and flooded his senses. While Toji practically gasped for fresh air, steadying himself against the side of the car, Shiu devoured the scent like a starving man. It was heady and intoxicating. Provocative. Irresistible. That's when he saw you. Weak and feverish, curled up in the passenger seat looking smaller than ever. Wrapped in Toji's shirt doing little now to cover your scent, still very much in need. Mark untouched.

Stepping up to Toji, he squared off with his fellow alpha. Then, raising his hand, he brought it down with a firm "clap" on Toji's shoulder. A gesture of friendship. Of gratitude.

"You did good." Shiu said. There was sincerity in his words. Toji offered a weak nod, then sank to the ground where he stayed for some time.

Mission accomplished, he thought to himself.

Shiu lifted you from the passenger seat and set you in his own car, removing Toji's shirt and wrapping you in his blazer. By the time the engine roared to life, you were already half gone. Face back on the cool window, mind drifting in and out focus. Little moans mixed with Shiu's name still fell from your lips, while your hand drifted idly- numbly- over your slick-stained lap.

"Fuck, I can't do this." Shiu said, not a mile down the road. "I gotta-" using his knees to balance the steering wheel, he quickly loosened his belt and fly. "I gotta have you." Freeing his cock, he stroked himself while he searched for a place to pull off.

He had every intention of getting you home. Of bedding you down in the comfort of your own nest. But unlike Toji, he was unrestrained and unfettered by the need to keep his hands off of you. His own need now as vital as the air inside his lungs.

As he pulled off the road you nearly sobbed with relief, a strangled cry breaking free from your chest as you finally let down.

Leaning over, Shiu brushed a bead of sweat from your dampened face before closing the gap with an empassioned kiss. He parted your lips with his tongue, moaning into your mouth with full abandon. You returned the gesture, running shaking hands through his flyaway hair, whimpering shamelessly while you explored his teeth, his tongue.

In an instant he was on top of you, scooting up and over the center console to straddle your lap- covering you, kissing you. It was tight and cramped and you didn't care. All that mattered was the feeling of Shiu. His smell, his touch, his taste.

He took your face in both his hands as he continued kissing you. Before long, the kisses traveled to your ear where they became something more promiscuous.

“God I missed you.”

He whispered his need for you, nipping at the shell of your ear before moving down to your neck. Hands and teeth and sultry moans filled the space. He licked a stripe along your neck and traced the stubble of his mustache along your jawline, breathing goosebumps over soft skin as he went.

"Fuck, I gotta have you" he said, reaching down to pull the seat's lever, lowering his weight down onto you as the seat reclined. In a matter of moments he'd managed to undress you both from the waist down, lips curling in a wayward smile the second he saw your glossy cunt.

With two long fingers, he reached down to part your folds, then slid them gently inside, pumping his wrist to the rhythm of his hips while he traced a line of salty precum from his tip over your tummy. He rocked you slowly with his weight, making you mewl with each upward thrust.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed softly. “God, I was so worried.”

“Shiu…”

Your pussy throbbed at his gentle words, slick coating his fingers as you pined for something more. You needed him like a vice. Craved him like a drug.

“Shiu, please.” You breathed.

Holding up his slick-sheened hand, he licked himself clean before placing his hands on your shoulders and lowering his forehead to rest gently over yours. His face was so close he was almost blurry, but you could still see the crinkle in his eyes from his devilish smile when he plunged himself deep into your aching core. You couldn't help the gasp that escaped you as he entered.

“Fuckkk,” you groaned, rolling your hips to match his pace. “Ha-harderrr.”

“This is what you needed isn’t it, dollface? I’m sorry I wasn't there for you. I should’ve known better.” He thrusted deeper. “You were so strong. So- hahh- fucking badass.” You tightened at his praise, moaning in turn. “Oh, you like that?” He asked, picking up speed. “Of course I'd expect nothing less from my favorite gunslinger.”

“You're driving me crazy!” You cried out in desperation.

“Oh this ain't enough?” He growled, grabbing your hips to drive himself deeper. Even at this angle, you still wanted more, needed more.

“Crazy? You're the craziest fucking -nngh- dish I know,” he panted. “And I ain't got nothin’ to do with it. Out there gunning down creeps while you're in -fuck- heat. Jesus, doll, you keep clenching on me like this you'll be milking me dry before I can breed you prop-hah-properly.”

“Do it then, Shiu!” You begged, turning under his weight. “Breed me properly!”

As he pulled out, you flipped over in the seat, hungry pussy swallowing his length, rounded ass pressing into his hips.

“That's it, doll! Fuck it back into me!” He growled. “Want you to take this cock like the rebel you are.” Speed and force rocked the car and still it wasn't enough. You arched your back, tits pressed hard against the seat. In a rabid moment of lust you bit down on the leather head rest, not caring what future clients might think of the suspicious imprint.

“Save some of that for me,” he teased, hand grazing the mark on your neck.

“I need- hahh-” you gasped as he forced his way deeper. “Shiu, I n-need your knot!”

"I know, doll, I know. Workin’ on it," thrusts becoming sloppy and more desperate.

You felt like you might explode. Your heat had reached a crescendo. The only thing that could break this fever was the stretch of his knot and the warmth of his seed spilling into you. It was agony.

“Shiu, please, fuck I-”

Sharp canines pierced the base of your neck, breaking the skin at the same time his hard knot appeared at your entrance. His thighs shook from the resistance while he thrust his hips forward, teeth sinking hungrily into your neck. Then, with a satisfying stretch, your desperate pussy swallowed his huge knot sending spasms through your core. Muffled cries of “Oh, fuck fuck fuck,” came from the place where he was still biting onto you. Walls fluttering, you milked his cock, hot ropes warming your insides as he emptied his heavy balls straight into you. Waves of relief poured over you as you fucked your orgasm back into him, clear liquid trailing down his thighs and yours.

Shiu lit a cigarette, blowing lazy clouds of smoke as he waited for his knot to let down, his bodyweight bringing comfort to your weary frame.

“Hahhhhhhh….” You breathed for what felt like the first time in hours. Blood trickled down your shoulder from where he finished marking you. You'd return the favor later.

“Thank you…” You whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“You were amazing today. A real bad actor.”

“I wouldn’t have made it without you and-” you froze. Struck by the embarrassment of the day's events. “-Toji”.

Toji watched as you and Shiu drove off, still sitting on the ground, back resting against his car.

A silent tug of war played out in his head. Morals as grey as the pavement below.

“Fuck it,” he said, reaching for the shirt he had let you wear, now discarded on the ground near his feet. Breathing your scent, he stood, leaning against the driver's side door, tugging his pants just below his hips and freeing his twitching cock.

“Fuckkkk” He groaned as he fisted himself to the thought of you so desperate and needy in the front seat of his car. He stroked himself to the sight of the stains on his seat. Jerked his hips to the memory of your moans still ringing in his ears. Fucked himself out to every inch of you he couldn't have today. And finally, reaching his climax, he tightened his grip as he knotted in his own hand, white hot loads spilling thickly down the side of his door. Rutting his hips slowly, he maintained the grip over his firm knot, a final spurt of sticky cum painting his car in white.

“Sorry, Fireball.” He said, looking down at the mess he'd made. “I may be a good friend, but I ain't no saint.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #shiu kong #jjk shiu #shiu smut #shiu x reader #shiu kong x reader #shiu x you #shiu x y/n #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #jjk omegaverse #omegaverse

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silcoitus · 4 days ago

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He's My Man

Masterlist

AO3 link

Rating: Mature

Tags: Silco x gn!reader, soft Silco, established relationship, angst, fluff, character study

Word count: 840

Beta Readers: none.

As Silco's partner, only you are privy to the vulnerability he hides from his empire. Dutifully, you stand at his side and lend him your strength.

A/N: Reposting so it's discoverable in the tags. This is based on the song "He's My Man" by luvcat, as requested by @h2pinky in this post! ! It's a beautiful song and I've swiftly become obsessed with it.

Only you can see his exhaustion.

In the quiet mornings when he returns home. When he sits at the table, dinner prepared for him, his shoulders slumped forward as his rigid posture gives way to every burden of the Undercity. Oh, how curved his spine becomes when no one—no one but you—is around.

As Piltover awakens from its slumber to start a new day, faces warm in the bright sunshine, Silco retreats after a long night of work. Of toiling. Thanklessly. Day in and day out. In the home you’ve painstakingly built for him, he finds his refuge.

But he’s getting thinner.

This is not some work-induced starvation. Silco has had bouts of self-inflicted fasting, his mind feverish with the work left undone, too focused on his goals to listen to the hunger signals that cry out to him. And every time, you dutifully remind him—he cannot run an empire if he continues to ignore his body’s needs.

So he’d eat again.

And his weight would return.

As you watch him eat the meal you’ve made for him, your own untouched, you see the bags under his eyes and the way the long scars on his face seem deeper, like the rivers that carved the plains of his face into valleys have doubled their efforts, raging and consuming.

This…

This is different.

Silco was clear when you joined his family; he lives on borrowed time. He should have died in that river. And if the toxins that run rampant in his veins weren’t enough, his line of work certainly has its share of occupational hazards.

Assassins.

Power-hungry Chem-barons.

And yet, those threats all seem so microscopic, so intangible, when the largest attacker Silco faces lies in his very cells, his very being. Everyday he fights an endless war. Against Piltover. Against his competition.

Against himself.

And while he gains ground in the battles of the Underground, he’s losing on his homefront. The enemy is laying claim to everything he has. It’s evident each morning when he retreats to the bedroom and disrobes to reveal new bruises that blossom along his skin, deep purples and maroons, sickly yellows and greens.

His arms. His legs. His back. Everywhere he carries the weight of his mission, death stakes a flag and claims it as its own.

It’s no wonder his attire covers him so completely, not out of some prestigious formality but out of careful necessity—the second he shows any weakness, his empire will crumble to the ground.

While it pains you to see his state, to see him sacrifice his body in the name of his Nation of Zaun, you cannot help but be thankful for the opportunity.

To love the man behind the ideal.

You savor these quiet moments, this invitation behind the curtain. Each show of vulnerability an expression of trust. Of utter faith that you will stand by him.

You get to your feet, padding toward the gramophone in the sitting room. After carefully selecting a record, you place the needle gently into the indented line.

A little static, and then—

A melody. Soft and eerie. Haunting in its beauty.

A bittersweet smile adorns your lips and you return to the kitchen to see ocean green and volcanic orange eyes looking at you behind a furrowed brow.

His good eyebrow lifts in silent question.

You answer with an offer of your hand.

Wordlessly, he sets his fork down and rises to his feet, pulling back his shoulders to tower over you. His hand in yours, he allows you to pull him toward the open space of the sitting room, footsteps light on the worn rug. You bring your free hand up to his shoulder and he follows your cue, placing his hand at your hip.

A gentle sway. Back and forth.

Unhurried.

Frozen in time.

At last, he speaks.

“What are you doing?”

You smile with your eyes up at him.

“Dancing.”

The scar on his upper lip quirks as he gives you one of his familiar smirks.

“I don’t have time for dancing.” His voice is somber, his head hung low. “I have so little of it as it is.”

You squeeze his hand.

“All the more reason to.”

He clings to you at that, pulls you closer to him. The arm at your hip snakes around your back, pressing so your torsos are flush and his breath is in your hair.

Your eyes flutter closed and you let out a content hum, cheek pressed to his shoulder.

His hand leaves yours in favor of coming up to tangle in your hair. As you cling to each other, your bodies still swaying in time to the melody, you think of nothing else.

And when you feel his shuddering breath, a small broken sound escaping his scarred lips, you squeeze him a little tighter. The tears that fill the valleys of his face are a sight only for your eyes. Your hands alone can wipe away the flood.

He’s your man.

To hell and back.

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somber-sapphic · 1 year ago

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Fevered Confessions

〖Notes: Sorry guys, just another repost.〗

〖Summary: You fall asleep after a mission and admit something you didn't intend to.〗

〖Word Count: 770 〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It wasn't a surprise that you fell asleep. It had been an exhausting battle, and everyone knew that you had been working yourself harder than you should be; going days at a time without sleep, and generally ignoring your wellbeing. The surprise came when you fell asleep on Natasha.

You’d been swaying in your seat for a little while, trying to keep up with the Avengers conversation when you just couldn’t hold your eyes open anymore. Your body ignored your wishes and you slumped, exhausted, against the assassin, your head landing on her shoulder.

The woman jumped a little bit but recovered quickly and instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you from tipping over.

“Oh, poor girl,” Wanda noted, shaking her head slightly. They all wanted you to relax, but you seemed unable to. Every so often you would meet another sleepless Avenger and stay with them until they could go back to sleep. For some reason, your presence seemed to calm them.

“She’s been going non-stop for days now, I’m surprised it took so long,” Bruce remarked, voice full of regret. They were all wishing that they could’ve done something to help you take a break, but they didn’t know how.

“Nat, you okay?” Wanda asked, drawing attention to the stunned look on the spy’s face. She had always wanted this. She’d wanted to hold you since the minute the two of you met. She’d let herself fall in love with you.

Natasha nodded slowly, seemingly trying to take in what was currently happening. Your head was buried in her neck, burning skin making direct contact.

She pushed a piece of long hair out of your eyes, getting a little whimper in response. It broke her heart.

She pulled you a little closer, hoping she could provide you with some comfort. You muttered something in your sleep that sounded like ‘don't go’ which hurt Natasha all over again.

“Shh, shh I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here.” The woman soothed, pressing a gentle kiss to your hairline. You relaxed in her arms, melting into her warm touch.

Clint had apparently put the jet on autopilot, because he walked out from the cockpit, instantly noticing how you were curled into Natasha’s side. He smiled, knowing very well about his best friend’s crush on you.

“How’s everybody doing?” Cap asked, appearing behind Clint. You jumped at the volume of his voice and your face screwed up in discomfort.

“Y/n finally fell asleep.” Tony pointed out, raising an eyebrow at Steve.

“Tasha? W’as goin’ on?” You mumbled, eyelids fluttering a little. Everyone sighed, and Wanda shook her head at Steve.

“Nothing Y/n, Steve’s just being a little bit loud. Go back to sleep, alright?” Natasha murmured, running her fingers through your sweaty hair. You rubbed your bleary eyes and sat up, realizing that you were leaning against the woman.

‘Sorry…sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I’m sorry.” Your voice was heavy with sleep, but you were struggling to keep yourself from falling back against the assassin. She was warm and soft and felt so much better than the chills wracking your body.

“No, no honey please go back to sleep. You haven't slept in days and we’ve still got a couple of hours.” Natasha pleaded, grabbing your trembling hands.

You blinked at her, confused, and shook your head.

“Mission,”

“The missions over, Y/n,” Tony said, trying to pull you out of the feverish delirium. You frowned, looking over at Natasha who was looking at you with fear-filled eyes.

“What's wrong? What happened? Did someone get hurt?” You asked, not understanding why she looked so nervous.

“No love, no one got hurt, you’re just a little sick, okay? How about we go back to sleep?” She coaxed, nodding in thanks at Wanda, who wrapped a blanket around violently shaking shoulders.

You wanted to protest, but your eyes were slipping closed again.

“Stay?” You sniffled, drooping against the redhead's shoulder. Her heart melted at the genuine request, although there was nowhere that she could go.

“Of course.” She pressed a gentle kiss on your sweaty hairline, trying to quell the worry that your fever brought. You sighed contentedly at the gesture and moved a little closer.

“Love you, Tasha…” It was so quiet that she wasn’t sure if she heard you correctly. Her heart leaped into her throat and tears sprung to her eyes.

“I…I love you too Y/n. Now, go to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get home.” You nodded against her shoulder and allowed yourself to succumb to the enticing call of sleep.

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lucid-loves · 10 months ago

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Taste Like Venom ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 5

Pairing: Ghost x assassin!reader (fem!reader, no use of y/n, callsign “Hex”)

Word Count: 3.6k

CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, enemies to lovers trope, slow burn, fluff, clear attraction and sexual tension, smut later on, reader POV and ghost POV, minors dni, Soap lives in this AU

Let me know if I missed any CWs.

Story Synopsis: After Makarov gets away once again, Laswell decides to force a favor from you, the world’s greatest assassin and best-kept secret. You are now expected to help the 141 with taking down Makarov in addition to playing nice with them. It’s hard to play nice when you have always worked alone. It doesn’t help that one of the team members, Ghost, gets curious about you in each interaction.

Chapter Synopsis: After days of inactivity, you finally managed to pick up some key information that could lead to Makarov’s downfall. Your proceeding plan, however, makes Ghost incredibly upset. He decides to pick a fight about it on the hotel roof.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6 ~ Part 7 ~ Part 8 ~ Part 9 ~ Part 10

The following days were quiet as everyone was focused solely on listening in on conversations. The men rotated in shifts, not one of them able to stand the boring lack of information for too long. You, on the other hand, were able to sit for hours listening and watching basically nothing. Your training had you comfortable with nothing remarkable happening for days. You didn’t even fidget as you sat at the desk, waiting for one of Makarov’s men to slip.

Soap’s leg was bouncing up and down as he sat on the edge of the bed, getting impatient. He wished they went with the original plan. At least that one had some more action. Ghost sitting beside him smacked his knee. “Knock it off. You’re shaking the bed.”

“Sorry, Lt. I’m just bored. We’ve been listening to nothing for days. Is it too late to go with the original plan?” He whined, taking off his headphones to ease the ache on his ears. Ghost would be lying if he said he wasn’t growing antsy too. He wasn’t used to inaction during missions. Who knew when someone would talk as well? They didn’t have time to wait it out for much longer.

Simon looked to the back of your head, your complete focus on listening to passing conversations. You had been quiet ever since you got back from tapping the building. Distant. You have taken extra care to evade the team’s attempts at inclusion. You’ve dodged their meal invites, removed yourself from small talk, and altered your routes to avoid them. Simon was especially missing your attention, your eyes having refused to meet his for days.

It wasn’t like you were blocking out the entire world, though. You still listened in on their comments. Their questioning of your plan. You just haven’t cared enough to respond back. The desire to keep your distance has been stronger than ever, especially since your mind tended to wander towards the night you were on top of Ghost when you didn’t want to. You still remembered the look in his eyes. Passionate. Aching. Feverish. Just thinking about how he looked at you when he was so close to death by your hand made you tremble.

God, and his growing erection? You’ve attempted to make excuses for him. Perhaps it was just something in his pocket. Perhaps it has just been a while for him too. It was just the adrenaline of facing death in the face. It was just him imagining someone else for a second. Someone much prettier. Someone more delicate.

You knew it wasn’t true, though. He was turned on by you. And you were turned on by him. You couldn’t forget how your own heart was shuttering for him as he wanted you after you bested him.

This was why it was important to keep your distance. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t get wrapped up in his stupid games again.

There was a knock on the door before Price and Gaz entered, ready to take over for their shift. As soon as Soap noticed his captain, he got up to stretch his legs. Price looked over at you, wondering if you were going to finally take a break after outlasting four shift changes. You didn’t even look in his direction.

“Men, could you give me and Hex some privacy?” John asked. The team knew it was actually an order, so they nodded and left the two of you. As soon as the door closed once again, you turned around and faced the captain, not bothering to take your headphones off. He seemed tense as he took a spot on the edge of the bed. While the stay in Italy has been a refreshing experience compared to the dangerous environments he was often sent to, he felt like it was time to take initiative.

“Hex, we haven’t gotten any key information in days. We are running out of time. I think it’s about time we go back to the intended plan.” Price delicately explained, not wanting to trigger any anger from you.

You knew that the 141 was cracking. They weren’t built for things like this. You understood their need to spring into action. However, you still rejected the idea. “We need to be patient. I never promised that information would come overnight.”

“We understand that. We jus-”

You held your hand up swiftly as voices flooded into your ears. Just as quickly, you swiveled around in your chair to face the monitors. A pen was taken up in your hand, prepared to jot down notes on a piece of paper. Price’s brows shot up, adrenaline pumping as it seemed you finally were getting a lead. He rushed to the door and opened it, inviting the men to hurry back in. “She’s got something!”

Before you knew it, you had four large men surrounding you, watching you write down choppy notes that they could barely read. In order to get everything down, you excluded certain letters in your spelling. It was the best way to ensure you didn’t miss anything.

“Holy hell, this is-” Kyle began, utterly shocked over what he was reading.

“The shipment route.” Ghost finished for him. The 141 now knew how Makarov was moving dangerous weapons across Europe without getting flagged. Where he was probably hiding many of his dealers too.

Just as fast as how the conversation started, it ended. You took off your headphones and brushed out your hair with your fingers. “Paris Catacombs. Nearly 2,000 acres. Only a tiny fraction is available to the public for tourism. Many parts of it are still unexplored.”

You swiveled back around in your chair to look at Price. There was some bite in your question for him. “You still want to switch plans?”

Instead of being annoyed by your dig, he was relieved. Happy, even. He met your cocky smile with a genuine one. “What’s the plan now, Hex?”

“Follow shipment. Makarov’s men are getting ready to move their shipment at three in the morning. We’ll follow them there, dressed as tourists taking a train to Paris. On said train, we’ll plant a tracking device on a few of them. They should lead us right to their catacombs entrance and straight to the supply.” You began to plan out, the men following your every word like you were a preacher.

“Saves us time from searching 2,000 acres in the dark.” Gaz deduced as he mulled the plan over in his head. Good. He really didn’t want to be stuck in such a large labyrinth surrounded by bones. The one that Ghost sewed onto his mask sometimes creeped him out enough.

“Correct. We’ll find whatever else we can silently and discreetly. If we’re lucky, Makarov will come for a surprise inspection. If not. . .” You continued, the gears in your brain turning as you thought of something creative.

They waited for you to continue, knowing that you were calculating this all in your head on the fly. Giving you a minute to think it over was something they were willing to give you. Finally, you finished your plan. “If not, we bring him to us. Makarov isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty if he wants something done. That something will be an interview.”

“An interview?” Price questioned.

You took a deep breath. You weren’t afraid to get your hands dirty too if you wanted something done. “An interview with an assassin. One unknown to the world looking to join his cause. One that would be willing to kill off the 141.”

Eyes went wide at your proposed idea. Simon was the first to object, his tone dangerously low and warning. “No.”

Your gaze snapped to him, a scowl instantly forming on your face. “I didn’t ask for your permission or opinion. This is the plan going forward. If you hate it, keep it to yourself.”

Price cleared his throat, the days spent with you making him a little more comfortable at attempting to calm you down. “I think what Ghost meant to say is that we’re just worried about you. There’s no telling what he may do to you if you two are alone or if he suspects anything. Do you think you would be able to assassinate him before he gets wise?”

A confident nod made most of their shoulders relax save for one which didn’t surprise you in the least. He looked ready to punch something. For now, you ignored his obvious stewing. “I can do it. Once Makarov is confirmed dead, we can call in for a mass arrest of the rest of his men as well as confiscate all of the weapons. The confiscated weapons could help you figure out where they came from if you trace them back too. That should lead you to the other heads of the hydra to take care of.”

The team gave it some thought before nodding in approval. You’ve earned their trust on this. However, you did feel the need to warn them about how you were going to earn Makarov’s good graces. “In order for him to trust me enough to get close, I’m gonna need to reveal some of your information. Names, dates, reports. Anything to make sure I can slide my knife across his neck.”

They shifted uncomfortably from your transparency. They didn’t like the idea of you handing over their information on a silver platter. However, if it would lead to the success of the mission, they would suck it up. Hopefully Makarov wouldn’t live for too long with it. Price gave his final approval before telling his men to pack up so they can move right on time.

You didn’t join them. Instead, you left the room and headed up to the space you have been retreating to to decompress alone. This time, though, Simon watched you leave with the intention to follow.

The sky was painted with beautiful hues of pink, orange, purple, and blue as the sun began to set. The streets were full of people from shoppers to diners. For everyone else, today was just another beautiful day in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. It was crazy to you how so many people could live such normal lives. How you weren’t born into it. How you may never be a part of it. Your time at the cabin didn’t count. Nothing counted when you didn’t exist.

You heard the rooftop door open, no gentleness in how it creaked open. Harsh footsteps broke your peace, the steps getting louder as they approached you. When they stopped, you turned around to face Ghost who was still steaming. He was so close to you that you could smell his soap. It wasn’t the hotel soap that was provided to every guest. It was his own that he must’ve brought with him. It was a rich, spiced scent. Like spiced apples and hot rum.

“Congratulations, you have convinced everyone else that what you’re planning isn’t absolutely fuckin’ crazy. Are you fuckin’ proud of yourself?” He growled, his hands landing on the stone wall on either side of you, pinning you in place. Nowhere to escape this time. Not unless you used force again.

“What’s your fucking problem, Simon?! Why have you insisted on picking a fight with me on every single fucking thing that I do?!” You spat back, feeding off of his anger.

Every muscle in his body was tense with rage. He wanted to shake your shoulders, yell at you, talk some sense into you. Makarov was a dangerous man with dangerous thoughts. Who knew what could happen to you behind a closed door alone with him. Or worse, lost in the catacombs. It was a risk he didn’t want to take, despite his team already approving the plan. “You have no idea what you are getting into, Hex. This is a man that took down a plane. A man that organized acts of terrorism around the world. All while trying to pin it on another country. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants!”

God, he was so stupid! His inability to see the forest through the trees was beyond infuriating to deal with. “That’s what we’re exploiting, you fucking jackass! He wants information. He wants you dead! All of you!”

“When you walk into his space and offer your services, he’s gonna want you too. Not just your abilities and empty promises. All of you. Why can’t you understand that?” He coldly explained, his face inching closer to yours as an attempt to intimidate you.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work. You were just confused followed by incredulous. “Are you implying that he may become attracted to me? Trust me, Simon that isn’t happening. It’s not going to happen.”

Your inability to take the situation more seriously had him burning. It was like his blood was boiling his insides. He was so upset with you. Ghost grabbed both of your wrists and held them tight against his broad chest. He knew he shouldn’t grab you so suddenly, but he needed you to get it. “It is going to happen, Hex! He’s going to want you! Open your fuckin’ eyes to that very real, very likely possibility.”

“How do you know?! How the hell do you know that?!” You screamed as you tried to pull your hands away from his grasp, but to no avail. Being pinned against the wall didn’t help give you more flexible space either. He was just too strong. Too caught up in his whirlwind of emotion, something he has never lost control of until he met you.

“Because I want you!” He finally blurted out, his own breath gasping at his confession. The furious expression you wore melted into pure shock. That was the last thing you expected to hear from him. You almost thought that you misheard him. However, his reaction to his own words indicated that you didn’t mishear or misunderstand. He said he wanted you.

Your heart was beating faster than ever as you processed his words. Was that what his problem was this entire time? He couldn’t handle having a crush on you? You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or scream at him.

His gaze darkened as he steeled his expression, trying to salvage the situation. He tried to make his tone more soft, but it just came out even deeper than before in a way that seemed sensual. “I want you to be part of this team. I want you to finally learn how to trust us. Rely on us. You don’t have to do everything alone, Hex. You don’t have to put yourself in such a dangerous situation where Makarov may have the advantage. We just want you to be safe. I want you to be safe.”

His eyes searched yours for any ounce of understanding. Any ounce of surrender. Anything to indicate that you may change your mind about sealing yourself away with Makarov.

You averted your eyes away from his, breaking his heart painfully. The truth was you didn’t know how to react. You’ve never been cared about this deeply before. Sure, Kate cared, but you two came to an understanding. Kate always lets you do your thing. If you were to die while doing it, then she would retrieve your body to burn and scatter your ashes to the creek behind your cabin. No regrets. No remorse. No worries.

You weren’t sure if hearing Simon establish that it was your safety he wanted instead of yourself made you relieved or disappointed either.

The sick feeling in your stomach when the team praised you for your work came back. Your brows furrowed as you contemplated making your own confession. “I’m not used to people worrying about me, you know? I’m not used to relying on other people either.”

Ghost gave a sigh of relief. So, that’s what you’ve been thinking. For a moment, he thought that you were going to reject him again. Perhaps you were going to reject him soon, but your lack of immediate rejection was promising. “We’ve noticed. It’s something we can work on.”

You shook your head and gave a fake laugh, feeling like a complete idiot. It was a new feeling for you. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“We can start with little things. If you’re uncomfortable with a personal question, just say ‘pass’ and we can focus on a new one. Together.” He reassured, his grip on your wrists loosening. A free hand gingerly took your chin to guide your gaze back on him. Burning with anger, smoldering with victory, or wavering with compassion, he missed your gaze.

As you looked up at him, you felt your stomach do flips. Ghost’s blue eyes sucked you right in, drowning you in a way that you were both scared of and didn’t mind. Now more than ever, you wanted to know the face behind the mask. Perhaps with time, you would. That was, until the mission was over. Finally, after all of this fighting, you conceded. “Fine. I’ll try.”

Simon bit back his smile under the fabric, trying to hide his joy. “Good. First question; What’s your favorite song?”

“Pass.” You answered quickly, his eyes still pouring into you.

“Alright. What is your favorite food?” He tried again, his smile slowly evaporating.

“Pass.” You repeated your first answer.

“Favorite drink?”

“Pass.”

“Favorite color?”

“Pass.”

He huffed in annoyance, the grip on your chin just getting slightly firmer. How were you still frustrating to deal with after you just said you would comply? “You know, you have to answer at least a couple of them.”

You cursed, clearly not being able to help it. “I fucking know that! Just. . . Just give me a minute.”

The sun was setting deeper, some stars gracing the inky black that was making its way across the palate of the sunset. The hum of people on the streets below had quieted down. Live music began to play from one of the nearby restaurants, a soft, romantic melody drifting up to your ears. It calmed you. Allow you to settle down your mind and your heart.

You closed your eyes and finally answered his questions, one by one. Some of them amused him. Some of them were of no surprise. Yet, it all seemed befitting of you. While you kept your eyes closed, taking deep breaths, he answered the questions himself. What finally made you open your eyes was his drink of choice.

Hearing your genuine laugh was real music to his ears. Even if you were making fun of him. “Kentucky bourbon? You mean piss-flavored rubbing alcohol?”

“Hey, I didn’t make fun of your favorites.” He defended, holding back some chuckles himself. That was the usual response to his admittance of enjoying Kentucky Bourbon above all else. He was used to it.

“Alright, alright. My bad.” You continued to snicker.

A moment of comfortable silence passed between the two of you followed by a magnetic pull. His eyes scanned your face. Your eyes, your nose, your lips. Your lips looked so soft. So. . . kissable.

Your hand slowly went up to tug the edge of his balaclava between your fingers. Now, it was your turn to ask him a personal question. It was only fair. “Why the mask?”

Ghost’s collarbone tingled as your skin grazed his. He gave a light shrug, shaking off the electric current running through him. “Same reason why you keep yourself hidden. Easier to be unknown.”

“I see. . .” You simply acknowledged, your fingers still toying with his mask. They ached to pull it up and see the face that has dared to get close to you. To see if his blonde lashes matched his hair. To see if his lips were as kissable as you imagined.

His other hand went up and grabbed your hand, stopping you from toying around with it any further. You quirked a brow and smirked. “Let me guess. Pass?”

Your cheekiness was such a turn on. Everything about you was. The more he found out about you, the more he wanted you. Not just wanted you to be part of the team or wanted you to be safe like he told you. He genuinely wanted you. All of you. “Hex. . .”

The door creaked open, causing the both of you to jump away from each other. You turned around, sharing your blush with the sunset instead of Simon and whoever just entered the rooftop. Simon rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat, also flustered. Thankfully, Kyle didn’t notice anything amiss. “Sorry. Been looking for you guys everywhere. Just wanted to extend a dinner invitation. It’s our last night in Italy. It could be nice eating together. You in, Ghost?”

Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, resisting the urge to strangle Kyle for breaking the moment he shared with you. Much to his and Kyle’s surprise, you spoke up. “Does that invitation extend to me too?”

“O-Oh! Yeah, of course! We can all eat together.” Gaz happily responded, over the moon that you were finally going to join them in a meal. Your progress seems to be going well.

You turned after your blush died down and headed to the door, preparing yourself for what was to come. You haven’t shared a meal with someone since you were a teenager. Simon followed right behind you, both proud of you for putting yourself out there, and also jealous that your attention that was on him just a few seconds ago was now going to be shared amongst his team.

To rectify this, we would be sure to be the one to sit next to you while you ate.

Taglist: @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @dory-98 @cum-tea-and-towels @completelymarveltrash @watersquirtpewpewboomm @thychuvaluswife @sweetheart-im-the-boss @anotherrickinthewall @bluewinter39 @fortunatelydecadentstudent @transparentsheepsheep @rhaenryawhore @randomlyblues @issssawrap @lachimolalaa3 @callsign-pyro @corruptcrybaby

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what-immortal-hand-or-eye · 1 year ago

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Hello? Hello, is this thing on?

Wolfwood, eldest of thirty, raised by a paramilitary assassin cult, man with practically no control over his life and no belongings of his own, would not be a slob. That man is the most intense clean freak you have ever met. He goes into a crappy little hotel and immediately wipes down all available surfaces. Everything he has goes into the same perfectly organized spots every time. He opens the door and goes “tsk” if it’s not up to his standards (it never is). Cleaning and organizing is an easy way to feel in control of your space and he clings to that with feverish desperation.

#trigun #Wolfwood #‘wolfwood’s a slob’ gtfo

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vroombeams · 5 months ago

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Forgive me if i have already dropped a request in your ask box.. but i wonder if you have any thoughts on 💗 slow kiss / gentle kiss / inevitable / soft as a little treat? 🥰

hellooooo here i have for you 💗slow/soft/semi-inevitable kiss💗 from the kiss prompt game and i have selected (spins wheel) jendo! i hope this is acceptable :')

Lando climbs into Jenson's lap like he belongs there, and he supposes he sort of does, here. They're at Lando's place anyway, in Lando's bedroom, on Lando's bed. In Lando's territory, finally, after a full day of feeling a bit off-balance with the ball entirely in Jenson's court.

Lando hadn't wanted to... presume anything. He hadn't wanted to assume this whole thing was a date, even though Jenson had essentially said it was over text, like I'd like to take you out while I'm in Monaco :) could've meant anything else. like have me asssassintated? Lando'd texted back. He can never remember how many Ses are in assassinate.

He's pretty sure Jenson had laughed. He'd responded with a laughing emoji, anyway, and then No, like a date. But really, who can be sure these days? Could mean anything, couldn't it? Date. He could've meant those little dried fruity things. The big raisins.

And they had gone out. A real restaurant where they could've been papped and everything, but from the outside it never would've looked like a date, right? Between him and Jenson? Maybe Lando'd been stuck on that all afternoon. Even when Jenson'd fed him pasta across the table. Even when he'd touched his wrist, gentle, intentional, reaching for the bill. Even when they'd had a jolly little game of footsie under the table. In Lando's head at least, surely it could've just been a... friend... thing.

Anyway. Jenson's kissing him, now, so probably that's all sorted.

It's that soft, sweet sort of kissing that Lando's woefully unused to. It speaks to probably years of experience, Lando thinks, a bit dumbly as Jenson's hand slips up under the back of his shirt. There's a finesse to it, right, nothing sloppy or overly wet about it. Lando's a fan of sloppy and wet, mostly. This is... this is also good, though. The way Jenson takes his time, keeps it close-mouthed for the most part. How he splays his fingers wide between Lando's shoulder blades and rubs his thumb along Lando's spine.

It's infuriating, sort of, for someone as impatient as him. He wants it all and he wants it now. He wants to open under lips and teeth and tongue, wants to let Jenson in, let him take, take, take.

Jenson breaks the kiss before Lando can start to whine for more.

It's a feverish sort of vertigo, Jenson leaning back, dipping Lando just a bit so he can look at him. The light's gone thick in his bedroom, afternoon sun softening the already soft angles of Jenson's face, lighting up where his eyes are crinkled like wrapping paper at the corners. Lando's struck with the compulsion to touch. Press thumbs to laugh lines, to stubble, to the bits at Jenson's hairline where he's going white.

"Oh, you're just lovely, aren't you," Jenson murmurs, one hand wrapped around Lando's waist so that his thumb slots in between the ladder-rungs of his ribcage.

Lando's either going to faint or die if he thinks on that any further. All he can really do is lean back in, helpless, and let himself be kissed again while Jenson laughs all soft into his mouth.

#jendo #kee.fic #kee.fic.jbln #written IN the tumblr post without even a once-over so you KNOW it's gonna be FAST AND LOOSE #or whatever #so much squishier and gentler than what i am used to but i hope it's something like what you wanted!!!#prompt fill

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league-of-legends-hcs · 1 year ago

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NSFW Kayn Thingy

Kayn x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, mind control (ish?)

Just imagine sitting under a tree in the forests of Ionia, watching the enchanted waters flow in front of you, lightly illuminated by the moon that shone beautifully through some clouds.

There was a light chill in the air when the summer breeze whisked around you, the hairs at the base of your neck standing up whenever the gentle whisp touched your skin.

But not only because of that. soft lips were placed on the back of your neck, strong, calloused hands, one feeling a little jagged and a little warmer than the other, were gently holding your forearms... And his scent... God it unleashed a wave of emotions you could hardly describe... You felt at ease and yet excited and on edge..

"I missed you..." His voice spoke into your ear, causing a shudder to run down your spine. "Now I finally have a moment for you, my precious jewel..." The young assassin turned you around to face him, your eyes meeting his. The beautiful orbs were filled with relief and a hunger you could barely describe... Only then you noticed the change that his body had undergone, too mesmerized by the voice that seemed to put you into a trance after such a long time of not hearing it.

His face had a mark, one of his bright blue eyes turned dark... And red.. and his skin... It had turned.. partially black.. "Kayn..." You whispered, shocked... Feeling fear and pity wash over you at once. Your loved one had been... Cursed... Somehow..

"My jewel.. " he raised his hand, the corrupted one, the pain in his voice overwhelming once he had seen the fear in you. You were shivering, unable to move away from him, whimpering a little, now that you had seen the way he had changed... It did scare you. Kayn had changed... His... Aura had changed. "Don't be afraid.." he whispered, the clouds seeming to darken the sky now, the one you had called your love melting into the shadows neatlessly... Yet you could feel the heat of his touch. An almost searing heat. Another voice, deeper and outerworldly seemed to speak from where Kayn stood. "She is drenched in fear... How delectable..."

You couldn't help but jump at it, yelping, but the hand on your face that now grasped your chin kept you quiet mostly. "I'm begging you.." with one swift motion, you were pulled into your lover, feeling his heart beat in his chest erratically. "My jewel I'm begging you.." he began to kiss you now. It was passionate but feverish.. with very rough moments.. as if he was fighting himself. "... Do not cast me away... I promise you, I will.." his hands now wrapped around your body, basically pulling you on top of him, placing you in his lap, "... I will never hurt you. You know that.." there was a hunger in his tone that you could clearly hear.

Something he could really barely control...

But you thought back to your time before he had left on this quest to find a fabled weapon that would make him a Shadow Warrior... And he had never given you a reason to think that he might hurt you.. and to be quite honest, you had yearned for his touch for a while...

"I know, Kayn..." You now cupped his face, the glance of the blood red eye still very unfamiliar to you, and kissed him deeply. You let yourself fall because you still trusted him... You knew that your Kayn wouldn't ever hurt you. You knew that he had excellent self control but this new... Creature that corrupted him seemed to make it physically hurt to be around you... In a way. "What do you need?" The young man closed his eyes and took a deep, shaking breath. His chest rumbled and his mouth moved when the other voice and his own growled "You."

A blush whichs color would make a cherry jealous slipped onto your cheeks, especially when both of his hands found your behind. Instinctively you bit your lip. Kayn however, looking a little dazed when his eyes opened, was still at war with himself. "She's mine, Rhaast!" The man growled, while the voice cackled and then said "Naive child. If I want her, I will have her. You cannot hold me forever."

You were so confused. Embarrassed too. Was someone around? Had Kayn been followed all this time and knew about it? Were you just imagining the voice? Or was it really the creature? "What's going on?" You asked, but gazing into this endless void of his left eye had you dazed as well. "The creature that I am fighting within my body can talk." He told you, half absentminded since his hands had started sliding around the fabric of your loose knotted attire. you hadn't felt the need to put on any underwear since you hadn't expected any company and Kayn was happy to discover that, untying the knot of the fabric that held your clothes together, making your dress fall off of your shoulders, pooling around your thighs.

You should be questioning your sanity, but you couldn't. it was like he had really entranced you.. and little did you know that Rhaast did. Just touching you could corrupt you in such a way... Since Kayn had not nearly mastered containing him as much as he wished.

"I want to feel you." He let you know, sliding his hands along your sides, pulling you right against him, feeling his body against you. Especially the bulge that had formed in his pants.

"I want to feel you too.." you said, your desire spiking now, your body heating up while you kissed him hungrily. In the back of your mind, you could now hear Rhaasts voice too. "Yes.. give into it..." And it seemed so easy... To just do whatever he said. To give into your pleasure. Yet, Kayn took his Time. His normal hand found your core, his fingers working it expertly, having your twitch and writhe on him while he now purred "Grind on me... Be a good girl..."

You felt a shudder run down your spine when he began circling your clit and you obeyed almost immediately, the fabric of his pants feeling incredibly good against your sensitive pussy. You hadn't felt anyone else for such a long time that just his words and fingers could bring you so close to the edge.

Little moans began to slip from your lips, your eyes closed in pleasure and only when his corrupted hand squeezed your chin you opened them to look at him. At this... Dark expression he held at this moment. This joy from seeing you whine and writhe.. yet with something threatening in his eyes.

You were grinding on his thigh, the cold air around you letting you feel even better. It also let you feel the intense heat from Kayns flesh against yours. it almost felt painful, like it would sear your flesh. "Kayn please.." you whined, still holding back your noises as much as you could.

"I want you to come." He almost snarled while now wrapping his hand around your throat, still pleasuring you with the other one, and squeezing lightly, getting you a little dizzy. Now, you sobbed, both hands grabbing onto the darkin flesh that pushed the air out of you. And in your delirious state... Well... You came, croaking out his name while your muscles tightened and then.. went slack. As did his hand, the one at your core wrapping around you, holding you by your back, the other wrapped around your shoulders, keeping you leaned against him. "More..." Rhaast demanded. "That wasn't nearly enough.. I need more!" But Kayn shook his head. "Mine. She's my jewel... Mine only."

Hoookay. Some Kayn x Reader.. do you guys want a part 2 where Rhaast manages to convince Kayn? Or just the normal smexy stuff? Or nothing at all? Lemme know!

#leauge headcanons #lol kayn #kayn league of legends #kayn x reader #kayn smut

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cringecannon · 1 year ago

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You coming across Kar’niss would be pure circumstance, and most likely born out of necessity. He carries the one thing that can penetrate even the deepest of shadows, and traveling would be difficult without it.

He doesn’t trust you at first. You’re an outsider. It’s not until he bends down, all eyes intently trained on your face that he softens. He drinks in your features, staring much longer than what is strictly necessary. Some of you might shift under the attention, nervously glancing away to avoid his intense gaze. Others may stand strong, refusing to break eye contact, challenging him. No matter how you react, it’s too late- his Queen demands that he have you.

The walk to Moonrise Towers is uneventful. Besides the sneak attack, of course. You watch him dispatch the Harpers cruelly, one-by-one. What happens after that is dependent on your choices.

If you originally sided with the Harpers, you are a snake in the garden, a traitor of the Absolute. Maybe you even managed to pick off the other cultists in the fight. Kar’niss is infuriated, yes, but a fractured voice in his mind soothes the anger- there’s an opportunity here, a perfect chance to prove his devotion to his Queen. What could please her more than converting such a powerful non-believer? He steals you away, kicking and screaming if he must, to Moonrise.

If you sided with the cultists, it goes pretty much the same. He, however, is delighted. You’ve proven yourself to be a dedicated and devout follower of his Queen, willing to throw your life on the line to defend her honor. On the walk back to Moonrise he can’t help but sneak glances, and try to brush you with one of his many legs.

Once you’ve made it to Moonrise the Thorm song and dance will go mostly the same, except Kar’niss is fully present. His fingers twitch where they hold onto your arm. You find he does that a lot, suddenly. No matter how many times you pull away, he always ends up touching you again. You both watch the attempted assassination of Thorm, and the subsequent goblin death after that. Kar’niss makes a special request of Thorm- the Absolute has demanded he take you under his wing, so to speak. Thorm doesn’t particularly care, granting Kar’niss sole responsibility over you with a wave of his hand. The drider is ecstatic.

If you had been cooperative so far, he immediately takes you to the rooftop. Your days are filled with his feverish praying, although sometimes you can’t tell whether they’re for the Absolute or for you. It won’t be long before he’s started to revere you as a saint, a holy figure walking among the masses. He dresses you in the cult’s finest, tends to your every need. It’s unsettling.

As a traitor, you’ll spend almost all of your time in the dungeon. He has to ensure you won’t run away, of course. Every day he comes down to tend to you, and he teaches you the way of the Absolute. Zoning out and going numb are good enough for him, and if you become seemingly complacent he’s more than happy to let you out. Be strong-willed, though, and you’ll receive no such reward. His Queen demands your utmost loyalty and devotion, and he will not fail Her.

#Kar’niss x tav #Kar’niss x reader #.kar'niss #.bg3

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sengardet · 1 month ago

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Indomitable Pulse (F/Futa)

Ayela's shadow fell across Gertrude's peaceful form as the assassin crept silently into the cave. Her dark hand gripped the syringe, its needle gleaming in the flickering torchlight. With a sudden motion, Ayela plunged the needle into Gertrude's chest, piercing her mighty heart and depressing the plunger.

Gertrude's eyes flew open as the cardiac glycoside and stimulant flooded her heart. She clutched at her chest, gasping, as her pulse began to palpitate out of control. It felt as if a wild stallion was galloping in her breast, hooves pounding against her ribs.

"What have you done to me?" Gertrude panted, her blue eyes wide with fear as they darted to Ayela's face. The assassin merely smiled, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she watched her prey squirm.

Gertrude had never felt her heart beat with such intensity, slamming against her sternum like a war drum. The contractions were so powerful, so rapid, that she thought the organ might tear itself apart. She could feel every chamber straining, the muscle fibers stretching to their limits as they worked frantically to keep up with the poison's demands.

Ayela moved closer, pinning the weakened maiden to the cave floor. Gertrude was alone, nobody to come for help and no reason to scream, her breath coming in short, agonized gasps. The assassin leaned in, her full lips brushing Gertrude's ear.

"Shhh, don't fight it. Let me feel your heart give out," Ayela purred.

As Ayela captured Gertrude's mouth in a deep kiss, the maiden's heart hammered against the assassin's chest, throbbing , shuddering, swelling with blood until Gertrude was certain it would burst. Darkness crept in at the edges of her vision as the kiss seemed to draw the very life from her body.

Just a bit longer, Ayela thought. Soon she would feel the last spasms, savor the final futile beats of her victim's mighty heart before it ruptured and stilled forever. Gertrude's muffled moans only urged the assassin on as she tightened her grip, determined to feel every quiver and pulse until the end.

Despite the agony and confusion, she felt the unmistakable hardness pressing against her thigh. Desperate, she ground herself wantonly against the assassin's bulge, hoping her carnal offering would be reason enough to spare her life.

Ayela hesitated, but the blonde's writhing hips were irresistible. She knew arousal would further stress the woman's heart, so surely a taste of pleasure wouldn't hurt...

Smirking darkly, the olive-skinned lady shed her tunic, baring dusky breasts. She trailed nails down Gertrude's trembling body, teasing the pale flesh until the knight's heart fluttered.

With a groan, Ayela freed her throbbing member, the rigid shaft jutting proudly. She seized Gertrude's hips and thrust slowly, savoring the silken heat engulfing her. The maiden's heart slammed against her breast with every labored beat, the overworked organ straining in agony. Ayela shuddered at the exquisite sensation, losing herself in Gertrude's body.

"Got you!" Gertrude said in labored breaths. In a burst of desperate strength, she flipped them over, pinning the slender assassin beneath her. She rode Ayela hard and fast, milky thighs flexing as she impaled herself on that dark, sensitive shaft. The assassin gasped sharply, caught off guard by the intense pleasure. She could feel her balls tightening, orgasm building embarrassingly fast.

Reaching up, Ayela pressed a palm to Gertrude's sternum, groaning at the feverish pounding beneath her fingers, matching the knight's frantic pace. The freakish heart thundered, every hammering beat bringing them both closer to the edge. Ayela's eyes widened as a chilling thought intruded - what might become of any daughters sired tonight, inheriting such a monstrous heart?

Gertrude grinded forcefully on Ayela's throbbing member. "You're mine now, assassin," she growled. Ayela writhed as Gertrude's slick walls engulfed her, rendering her helpless. Focusing her magic, Ayela glimpsed inside Gertrude's chest. The maiden knight's heart was a sight to behold - bulging, straining, slick with exertion as adrenaline and arousal made it pump harder than ever. Veins and arteries snaked taut across its glistening surface. Gertrude's chest heaved as her lungs billowed desperately to keep up.

Ayela's cock throbbed, completely at the mercy of Gertrude's powerful heart and clenching sex. She knew one would have to give out soon. Gertrude brazenly pressed her chest to Ayela's, letting her feel the dominating beat of her heart - the slick, red, vascular engine that powered the beautiful warrior maiden's body in its relentless conquest of Ayela.

"You underestimated me, looks like you needed a larger dose or a stronger poison" Gertrude growled triumphantly, rocking her hips as she felt Ayela's shaft throb and pulse within her, flooding her with hot seed. The maiden knight's heart pounded with exhilaration, intoxicated by the power she now held over her former enemy.

Ayela let out a pitiful whimper, dark eyes glazing over as her tense olive body shuddered beneath Gertrude's much stronger pale figure. She gasped as Gertrude ground down onto her delicate, spent balls. "Please, mercy..."

But Gertrude showed no mercy, slamming herself forcefully onto the assassin's hips, crushing Ayela's drained, aching jewels under her rear end as the final spurts of cum were milked from her cock.

Ayela could only lie there defeated as Gertrude rode out the final spasms, thighs quivering around her conquered prize.

#dark cardiophilia #woman with vagina on woman with penis

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purpleweredragon · 9 months ago

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""The Twilight Zone" is often lauded for its social commentary; it condemned things like racism and nationalism and beauty standards, even as the world around it failed to follow suit. It was a bold and innovative show, but it was also churning out up to 37 episodes a season, so a few clunkers were all but guaranteed. Such was the case with season 3's "The Mirror," an episode that is very much not ahead of its time. Instead, it's perfectly in line with mainstream political opinion in 1961, and it makes for a somewhat dull, grating viewing experience as a result.

The episode depicts this Castro-insert as a paranoid, sadistic and cartoonishly evil man. The previous leader he's overthrown, who in real life would be the brutal far-right dictator Fulgencio Batista, is portrayed in a comparatively sympathetic light.

The United States, which has a long history of interfering with Latin American governments, did indeed try to kill [Castro] on plenty of occasions. Yet "Mirror" depicts these assassination attempts as the feverish paranoid fantasies of Clemente; either that, or the direct results of an unhappy country being tortured by his tyrannical rule.

The other issue is that, as time goes on, it seems more and more like Castro was not quite the crazy evil dictator that American media presented him as. He still did plenty of terrible things worthy of condemnation, like his now-reversed criminalization of homosexuality in the '60s and his general inclination towards authoritarianism. On the other hand, he did raise the average quality of life in the country, initiated a successful literacy program, and implemented a healthcare system that's more efficient and humane than our own. Since Fidel took over, the country's infant mortality rate also fell from 37.3 to 4.3 per 1000 live births, lower than it is in America.

Considering Cuba accomplished all this while putting up with an economically suffocating 60+ year trade embargo from the United States, we're forced to admit that Fidel's revolution wasn't a total disaster. Despite the "Twilight Zone" episode's smug certainty that Fidel would crash and burn, his government has already outlived the majority of the episode's cast and crew."

#the twilight zone #usa #cuba #fidel castro #peter falk #politics #propaganda #revolution #latin america

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lynnerdo · 5 months ago

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* The heart is not meant to rule *

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader

Tag list: @wo-ming-bai

Slow burn, knife kink, blood kink, strangers to lovers, softer!Feyd-Rautha, CONSENT, 18+, arranged marriage, assassination, poison, murder, etc

Previous Chapter - Burning Palms Current Chapter - Only I Will Remain

***

You return to your chambers alone, still shaken from the earlier confrontation. Hours pass, and the silence is heavy with your thoughts. Finally, the door swings open, and Feyd enters, his face a mask of frustration. The remaining meetings had been incredibly boring and annoying, leaving him seething with pent-up energy.

Without a word, he crosses the room in a few swift strides and takes you in his arms with more force than needed. His grip is tight, almost bruising, and he doesn't wait for anything. He starts to kiss you angrily, his lips harsh and demanding. You squirm under his touch, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you, but this only seems to edge him on.

Feyd's hands roam your body with an urgency that borders on aggression. His kisses are rough, bruising, as he pours all his frustration into this moment. Your protests are muffled against his lips, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Feyd, please," you manage to gasp between his feverish kisses, but he doesn’t slow down.

His response is a growl of frustration, his fingers digging into your skin as if anchoring himself. You can feel the intensity of his emotions—anger, desire, a desperate need for release. It’s overwhelming, a whirlwind of sensations that leaves you breathless.

You push against his chest, trying to create some space, but he only pulls you closer, his eyes dark and wild.

"I need this," he mutters, his voice a strained whisper. "I need you."

Your heart aches at his vulnerability, buried beneath layers of anger and frustration. Despite the roughness, you can sense the depth of his need, the unspoken plea for understanding. Slowly, you relax into his embrace, your hands moving to his back, offering silent reassurance.

Feyd’s grip softens just a fraction, his kisses becoming less punishing and more desperate. You can feel his heart beating wildly against yours, his breath hot against your skin. This moment is raw and intense, a collision of emotions that leaves you both shaken.

As he pushes you towards the bed and take out his dagger, making you squirm even more than before. As he cuts your dress off, he plants possessive kisses on the exposed skin, working his way down, cutting everything off your body and leaving you naked in front of him. He’s on his knees in front of you.

“Sit.” He demands darkly, his eyes darting to the bed. “What about you?” you ask in defiance.

He didn’t waste any time allowing you to talk back at him. He stands back up and forcefully pushes you back, one of his hands on your mouth. He wants you to be completely submissive right now, so you oblige just this one time. As you fall backwards on the bed, he’s on you like a wolf, hungry for blood. His dagger at your side, sharp and dangerous.

“You will learn not to doubt me, even if that’s all I can teach you.”

He spits out at you, referencing the doubt he saw in your eyes before.

You had to admit while he was scaring you a little, you reminded yourself that his feelings were mostly right at the surface. If he wanted to hurt you, he would have already done that months ago.

He returns his anger towards your body instead, cutting you with his dagger and licking it up like a mad dog. The lower he goes the more he starts cutting, until his head is between your legs, lapping at your entrance like a dog starved for water. Your blood is in splotches over his face, painting his pale face a brighter colour.

He’s slowly driving you insane, the fear turning into pleasure as he continues his assault. You keep quiet like he demanded, his submissive little wife, as he gets up from between your legs, eyes darker than the black sun. As he releases his hardened cock from his pants, he doesn’t need to do more than just look at you, taking the hint immediately. As you move towards the edge of the bed, he forcefully grips your hair in his hand and positions you perfectly in front of his cock. The dagger in his other hand grazing your cheek as you take him in your mouth, throbbing with need.

He lets out a loud sigh of pleasure, his hand tight in your hair, holding you down a little bit longer than you can handle, making you choke. As he pulls you back, he looks down at you, his face contorted in a snarl. His anger still very at the surface as he starts to pump into your mouth, making you sound completely indecent. You hold his legs in a way to keep yourself from falling off the bed and grounding yourself, as he relentlessly fucks your mouth.

“Sometimes you talk too much, wife,” he snaps at you, “I should do this to you more often. Maybe you’ll finally learn then.”

His dagger pressing into your cheek, drawing blood as he keeps his pace steady and fast. You’re barely able to understand what he’s saying at this point, feeling like a fuck-doll at this point. You decide you have enough of this and manage to push his legs away from your face, making him stumble backwards a bit as you manage to take a few gasps of breath.

You look at him angrily, wiping your own blood off your cheek. His jaw clenches at your movements and how you position yourself back on the bed. He steps forward and grabs one of your legs, pulling you towards him as you struggle to find your footing again. He’s enjoying this, watching you flail in his strong grasp.

“Stay still woman!” He demands of you with his dagger at your neck.

You freeze, not that you think he would actually kill you, but you also don’t want to be made into an example of accidental death. You huff out at him, brows frowned at him. As his free hand goes down to open your legs with haste, you manage to turn around, your back facing him but he’s straddling your hips sooner than you thought.

His thick member slapping on your ass as he pushes himself onto you, making you lay flat against the bed, effectively squishing you. You feel the same dagger at your other cheek, almost sticking into it, probably drawing blood as you don’t really notice the pain anymore.

“You’re so pretty when you struggle wife,” he snarls as he slaps his cock a few times on your ass, the movement giving you an unwanted wetness between your legs.

He’s heavy and dominating, this is the Feyd people warned you about, you’re finally seeing the true Harkonnen in him. As you struggle to breath, you feel one of his fingers circling your ass, wet with the slick from his cock. As he pushes his thumb inside, you let out a short gasp, the feeling completely foreign to you. You notice he won’t give you the time to get used to the feeling, as he’s lining up his cock with your other entrance as you try to figure out the difference between pain and pleasure.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to do this?”, he speaks as he lets his tip enter you. “One hundred and fifty-two days exactly”, he chokes out as he wastes no time penetrating you fully.

It’s all too fast and hard for you to handle, as you let out a pained moan under his weight. You’re barely able to breathe properly at this point, so your breath comes out in short gasps, trying not to faint at the feeling. Feyd is fully sheathed inside of you, and he feels bigger than before, harder than you’re used to. He has been keeping count apparently, but so have you.

“One hundred and fifty-three”, you blurt out.

He freezes for a moment and starts to pump into you relentlessly, eliciting the foulest sounds from your mouth. While he keeps his dagger at your face, he lifts his body from your and you’re finally able to take in more air. You manage to raise your butt a slightly bit higher, so that you can move along with him, his thumb in your ass keeping you in place as he pounds you hard and fast.

He can feel your wetness and it’s driving him even crazier than he thought. As much as he loves it when you’re being dominant, he loves seeing you even more when you’re submissive, offering all control to him, allowing him to decide your boundaries. He’s been waiting for five months to have you in his arms again, in his bed again.

You had also been dreaming about this moment, although, maybe slightly less violent, you welcome it, however. Feeling his utter need for you takes away all doubt, the fact that he’s being so open towards you makes you feel wanted. Maybe if you can allow some violence into the bedroom, he won’t be so violent in everyday life.

Feyd strikes your ass hard, making you snap out of thought. His dagger lay in the bed now, his free hand gripping your ass as he picks up his pace, even inhumanly fast as it feels. You almost scream out at this point, everything an overstimulation of the next, and as you cum on his cock he turns you around and forces his hand inside of your vagina, letting you ride the wave as he pulses against your g-spot, effectively making you squirt multiple times.

His face is soaking wet, as he laps up most of the fluid from the source. Taking his dagger again he places it in your hand.

“Cut me,” he says as he starts to line up his cock again as you lay flat on your back.

As soon as he enters you, he hovers over you, holding you down, his cock feeling heavy and full inside of you, his girth stretching you open as your back aches from the bed. He snakes an arm under your back to hold you there, sucking at your nipples. As you take the dagger and cut him on the side of his neck, he shivers with pleasure.

The blood drops down onto your chest and he looks at you, pleased. His pace starts to become more erratic the more you cut. Four, five, up until ten times you do this on different spots on his body, all while he’s fucking you senseless. Your body the canvas of his blood and sweat. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, how he was even allowed to touch you, he couldn’t understand.

“Feyd,” you gasp out as you’re feeling another wave rush through you, “faster.”

As you both continue, his anger fades, replaced by an overwhelming sense of urgency. He clings to you as if you’re his lifeline, the only thing keeping him grounded. And in that moment, despite the fear and uncertainty, you hold him close, offering what little comfort you can.

You come with a lightning strike shooting between your eyes it seems, completely overwhelmed. As he bites down in your shoulder you feel his seed filling you entirely, as he pumps the last of his energy into you. He turns his face to face yours, and he slowly continues to move in and out of you, making sure to keep most of it in. You kiss him softly, a tear slowly falling down your cheek. He kisses you back softly, his anger completely gone, as he positions himself next to you.

Your chest blood red and glimmering in the dim light of the room, he looked you up and down, almost waiting for you to say something first. He wasn’t easily ashamed but somehow, he felt a little bit more aware of what he had done just now. He hoped you would still love him after the display he just left you with.

“Blood of my blood,” you say as you cup his face.

His eyes close slowly at your touch, no one would ever take this away from him again. And the both of you fall asleep in a newfound bliss with each other.

#feyd rautha #feyd x reader #feyd x you #dune #dune two #dune part 2 #dune 2 #dune part two #dune movie #the heart is not meant to rule

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