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spider-stark · 6 months ago

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SWORN PROTECTOR

Criston Cole x Targaryen!Reader

Summary - After sneaking back into the Keep from a night spent out in the city, you find your sworn protector, Ser Criston Cole, waiting for you in your room.

Warnings - fem!reader, targtower!reader, not edited, reader has mommy/daddy issues, duty turned devotion type bullshit, criston can't just guard a woman without falling in love ig, yearning

Word Count - 2k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

Soft footfalls echo in the narrow corridor of Maegor’s passages. You keep a palm cupped around the candle in your other hand, protecting the flame so it won’t gutter out. Secret doors are scattered throughout the corridor, each leading into bedchambers or solars or other forgotten passages. Having already left your brother, Aegon, at the secret door leading to his room, you keep count of your steps.

One, two; seven, eight; thirteen, fourteen; twenty, twenty-one.

At just over twenty-five paces, the exact distance between his room and yours, you stop, turn to the left and blow your candle out, setting it on the ground for next time you go sneaking through to passages.

Cold stone bites at your palms as you press them against the aged door. You cringe with every scrape and groan as you push it open. When there’s a gap just wide-enough, you turn sideways and shimmy inside.

You’re greeted by warm light, candles flickering from all around your room, chasing the shadows of dusk into faraway corners. If you weren’t so preoccupied with heaving the door back into place, adjusting the tapestry that hides its seams from view, you may have noticed that there are more candles lit now than when you slipped out earlier, having abandoned the Keep in favor of a night spent in the city lying below Aegon’s High Hill.

When all is as it was, the secret door shut and covered, you turn around. Heaving a sigh, you shrug your cloak from your shoulders, letting it fall into a heap on the floor. Gooseflesh immediately forms along your arms, kissed by the chill breeze blowing in from the open balcony.

You walk to the vanity on the far side of your room, rolling your neck and shoulders, muscles sore from hours spent dancing among the smallfolk in a Flea Bottom tavern. Exhaustions made your bones weary, fantasies of crawling into warm sheets plague your mind. They tempt you, urging you to forego your nightly routine in favor of sweet, sweet sleep.

Your footsteps falter, casting a wistful glance down your shoulder to your bed when—

Seven Hells!

Your pulse jumps, a scream threatens to rip from your throat at the sight of a figure sat on the foot of your bed. You react quickly, clamping a hand over your mouth to muffle any sound, not wanting to raise alarm amongst the guards. Recognition washes over you in a matter of seconds, taking them in one detail at a time: their weathered boots and polished armor, tanned skin and ever-present frown.

Lowering your hand, you have half a mind to curse Criston for frightening you like this, for not announcing himself as soon as you snuck in—

Rational thought trumps what remains of fear.

He had to have seen you—sneaking in from the passages, hiding the door upon entrance.

Fuck.

The air turns thick. Every breath is like sucking treacle into your lungs, slow and suffocating. Criston’s stare is heavy, his expression like weathered stone. Armor grinds against itself as his arms cross over his chest. “Where have you been?”

There’s some relief that he doesn’t first question you about the passages. Does he already know about them, you wonder? After all, before Criston became your protector, he was sworn to your half-sister, Rhaenyra—who, in your youth, was said to be quite rebellious.

A trait Criston finds to be alive and well within you.

You look away from him, continuing to your vanity. “I was out,” you answer, purposefully curt. “Obviously.”

Nudging the vanity stool with your foot, you take a seat upon its plush velvet cushion. Criston pushes off your bed, and you fight a smirk at the sound of his footfalls, heavy and fervent as he strides to your side.

“Out where?”

You pull your neatly plaited hair over your shoulder, watching yourself in the mirror as you untie the ribbon binding it. “In the city,” you tell him, tossing the scrap of silk onto the vanity top. “Where else would I go?”

“Were you alone?”

You reach for your brush, begin combing. “What does it matter?” Before he can answer, you catch his gaze in the reflection, eyes playfully narrowing as you ask, “If I said that I wasn’t, would you be jealous, Ser Criston?”

He certainly looks jealous.

The knight’s breathing is shallow, tanned cheeks flush with frustration. At your question, a muscle feathers in his jaw, clenched so tight that you can nearly hear his teeth grind together. There’s a dark gleam in his eyes, a shadow of rage—not at you, you don’t think. But at whoever may have been graced with your presence tonight, showered with your favor and affection.

“As your sworn protector,” Criston says, voice strained, “I have a right to ask if you were escorted by another member of the Kingsguard.”

There’s such emotion in it—the way he said: Your sworn protector. A trembling betrays his fraying restraint, revealing the raw nerve beneath and exposing Criston’s desperation, a desire to not only be sworn to you, but to be wholly possessed by you.

Your sworn protector—no longer a title, but an identity.

Your sworn protector—no longer an oath, but a sacred devotion.

You set your brush down, holding his stare with a faint smirk. “I’m afraid that doesn’t answer my question, Ser.”

Something snaps. His mouth twists into a scowl.

“Are you truly so thoughtless, princess?” Criston asks, his tone maintaining a delicate balance between respect and disappointment. “Do you understand it’s your very life you play with? And that it’s not only you who would suffer the consequences of this… this utter lack of duty! This wanton negligence!”

You could have him dismissed from the Kingsguard for this.

For speaking so freely. For interrogating a princess. For trespassing in your rooms.

Criston continues, “If something were to happen to you, my life is forfeit. The king would–”

He’s interrupted by wood screeching against stone, the vanity stool thrust back as you rise to your feet. You turn to stand toe-to-toe with the knight, chin tilted to lock eyes with him. “The king,” you hiss with a sickly smile, contradicting the venom in your voice, “would do nothing—just as he’s done all my life.”

The energy shifts. Criston’s scowl morphs to a pitying frown.

“He is your father,” his protest is a tentative breath, laced with underlying uncertainty, “if something happened to you, he would seek justice.”

You laugh, low and bitter. Shake your head and shove past the knight. “If he mistook me for Rhaenyra, perhaps,” you say, kicking off your shoes as you head to the wardrobe next to your bed. “If not, then I imagine he wouldn’t even notice I’m gone. My life—the lives of my siblings—has never meant anything to him.”

Criston redirects, facing you now. He argues, “It means something to your mother.”—And to me, he holds back.

A scoff, throwing the wardrobe open.

Your mother loves you, of course—but it’s the kind of love that hurts. It’s cold distance and piercing scrutiny, violent words and stinging cheeks. If you were to die, she would certainly mourn. But it won’t change that she failed you. It won’t make her a good mother.

When you don’t respond, mindlessly digging through a drawer of nightgowns, Criston knows better than to broach that particular topic any further.

With a hesitant breath, he says, “It’s my duty to protect you. To keep you safe.” He takes several steps, decreasing the distance between you by coming to stand at the foot of your bed. You stay facing the wardrobe. “It’s true that I cannot tell you what to do—if you wish to fraternize with common-men—” such distaste laces this word—“then that is your will.”

There’s a pause. Your hands falter, swathed in a mess of silky fabric as you wait for him to continue.

“I only ask that you heed caution, princess. For you to allow me to accompany you and do my job—to safeguard your life, your virtue-”

Genuine amusement floods your chest. It spills from your lips in a string of vivacious giggles. “Is that what this is about, Ser Criston? My virtue?” You settle on a nightgown, turn around and toss it onto your bed. You glance to the foot of it, at Criston and his ever-present frown. “You truly are a jealous man,” you muse, smiling, “aren’t you? Thinking I go into the city to fuck common-men.”

His fists tighten at his sides, the blatant mockery in your voice having invited a wave of embarrassment.

“It was not my intention to imply that—”

The words catch in Criston’s throat as you turn the opposite way, slip your shirt over your head and shimmy out of your trousers, leaving the smallclothes beneath. All he can see is your back—the smooth column of your spine, brushed by tendrils of long, silver hair—but that’s enough.

Enough to make his heart jolt, hammer against his ribcage. Enough to make his knees weak, threaten to buckle beneath his weight. Enough to light a fire inside him, flames licking at every inch of his skin.

Grasping at the final shreds of his restraint, Criston averts his gaze to the floor.

He swallows on a too-dry throat. “King’s Landing is full of vile men, princess,” he tells you, a sense of guilt pricking at his conscience. “And vile men are known to commit vile acts.”

You reach out an arm, grab the nightgown and pull it over your head. Silk glides over your skin, covering the exposed flesh that tempts the knight so.

Whirling to face him, you ask, “And what about you?”

Criston doesn’t answer, still studying the rug beneath his feet with a staggering intensity. You catch his brow furrow, though, a small wrinkle forming there. You elaborate on your question.

“You’re a man in King’s Landing,” you tell him, leisurely placing one foot in front of the other, gliding to where he stands at the end of your bed. “Are you as vile as the rest of them, Ser Criston?”

Again, only silence.

You take another step. Less than a foot of space separates you, close enough now to scent the earthy musk of his armor. “Some might think it vile,” you continue, taunting him, “for you to be here right now—hiding in my bedchambers well after dark.”

Criston stammers, his words broken-up by serrated breaths, “I merely wished to know that you were safe, princess.” Dark eyes flutter up from the floor, drawn to yours. “My intentions were pure.”

“Were?”

His blood thrums. His lungs ache.

You continue, “Do you mean your intentions have changed, Ser Criston?”

Criston tells the truth. “No.” With you, his intentions are always pure. It’s his desires that complicate things. “My intentions are the same,” he tells you, clearing his throat, “I only wish to know you’re safe. That you’re well-protected.”

Your mistrust in his answer is evident. Lips pursed, your eyes scan his face, searching for something. At this moment, he feels every bit like prey. A cornered animal trapped beneath the searing gaze of a dragon, left entirely at your mercy.

A part of him is terrified. Another, utterly entranced.

Finally, you click your tongue. Reaching out a hand, you place it against his chest. His gaze falls, staring at where your palm is pressed to his armor. He wonders how it might feel against his skin. “You’re an honorable knight, Ser Criston,” you tell him, smiling. “A good man, too.”

Criston doesn’t remember the need for oxygen until your touch falls away.

Turning your back to him again, you stride back around your bed, pull the blankets back, and sit on the edge of your mattress. His mind is still reeling when you next speak.

“I was with Aegon.”

Criston blinks. “What?”

“You asked if I was alone,” you say, reminiscing on his earlier question, “I wasn’t. I was with Aegon—who was accompanied by Ser Erryk.” Sliding your legs beneath the blankets, you lean back against a stack of plush pillows. “So I was well-protected from those vile men you speak of.” Chewing on your lip, fighting a wider grin, you add, “I just thought you might like to know—despite how unjealous you are.”

Criston’s own lips twitch, curving upwards.

“Good,” he says, a bit awkward. Then: “And about that secret door…”

You groan, tossing your head back against the pillows. Criston softly chuckle, another lecture already poised on the tip of his tongue.

It’s going to be a long night.

a/n - idk man. I randomly decided at 8pm that I needed to write 2k words about this man after never writing for him a day in my life, and this is the product of that. any and all feedback is welcome and much appreciated!

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pedrospatch · 2 years ago

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Just Friends

Javier Peña x DEA Agent Female Reader

Part 2

Summary: You’re planning to have sex for the first time and you’re nervous—Javi offers to show you a thing or two, but just as friends of course.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. reader is in late 20’s; reader is an agent for the DEA; established friendship, idiots in love lust, overprotective/slightly jealous Javi; Javi is his canon manwhore self, reader is a virgin, talks of virginity loss and her desire for no strings attached sex, a bit of pining and yearning, lots of pet names, a couple insults, friendship fluff; touching, groping, dry humping, reader gets off, Javi does not. I know, I know. I will make it up to him in part dos. this does not follow the timeline of the show accurately, Messina is in the picture, Connie is still around. reader is bilingual, no descriptions of her race or ethnicity mentioned though. *translations at the end.

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: This took me forever to edit and post because I’m scared lmao.

thank you to @cutesyscreenname for encouraging me to write this idea. I owe you cherry gansitos!

You observed your own reflection in the full length mirror in front of you and let out a curious little hum as you lifted the short, scarlet red minidress, holding it right up against the length of your body. You then held up the second dress that you had clutched in your opposite hand, a stunning, satin black midi number whose length was a lot longer than the first option, the hem of it falling down to your calves.

It appeared rather innocent, modest enough while it was still on the plastic hanger, but it fit you beautifully, just like a fucking glove. The bodice of the garment cinched at your waist and it was tightly fitted, hugging the curves of your upper body so closely that it looked and even felt like something of a second skin whenever you wore it. The billowy skirt of the dress flowed out around you, darling and sweet at first glance, however it came with a borderline dangerous slit in the side of it that stopped about two or three inches above the middle of your thigh near the hinge of your hip. It exposed the entire length of your leg whenever you walked, danced, or moved around in it—Murphy had once referred to it as the infamous femme fatale dress, telling you that it was a far, far more dangerous weapon than your gun could ever be.

You were fairly certain his remarks had something to do with the fact that you’d worn the dress on a number of different occasions while you were out on the job, going undercover in Bogotá for the US Drug Enforcement Administration.

As the only female agent on her team in Colombia and a younger, very beautiful female agent at that, Messina found herself using you to her advantage quite often these days. She would send you out all over Bogotá in that very same black dress with the hope that it would aid you in luring in members of the Medellín drug cartel in efforts to capture their leader, Pablo Escobar.

Tonight, however, you weren’t going undercover.

You were doing something much more frightening than mingling among some of Colombia’s most dangerous men.

Far, far more daunting than that.

You were going out on a date.

“I like the red dress the best,” Javier’s deep voice came from behind you, startling you slightly. He had mentioned to you earlier that day that he was going to some lounge with Murphy for a smoke and some drinks after work hours since it had been a long, draining week for him at the office; Messina had stuck him with an endless amount of tedious paperwork to do and it had just about driven him insane, but nothing a pack of cigarettes and some bourbon couldn’t fix. With the soft, Latin cumbias playing from the old stereo perched on top of the white oak dresser beside you, you had completely missed the sound of the front door opening and closing when he’d gotten home.

You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing there in the open doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. Javier’s dark brown eyes were fixed intently on you, a small, devilish smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he casually leaned up against the door frame of your bedroom. Well, technically, it was actually the guest bedroom of his apartment unit that he’d let you take over several months ago. The housing department of the agency had placed you into a unit in the building across the street from his, right next door to Murphy and his wife, Connie. It had been a special arrangement requested by your diligent supervisor in an effort to make sure that no one found themselves in a compromising situation—she trusted you enough not to get any dumb ideas, but she didn’t trust Peña as far as she could throw him. It wasn’t very far.

While it had certainly been quite nice, and even kind of comforting at times to have Steve and Connie as your neighbors, you’d expressed to Javier one night over dinner at his place that you weren’t all too fond of having to live alone. Without an ounce of hesitation on his part, Javi offered to have you move into his spare bedroom that very same evening after you were both done eating, but only on the condition that Messina didn’t find out about the new living arrangement. She would wring Javier’s neck with her bare hands if knew that you two had been sharing his apartment this entire time.

Hell, she would wring yours too. And you were the favorite child of sorts. Less annoying than Murphy and certainly a lot less problematic than Peña.

She only liked you because she never had to worry about you. On or off the job.

But even though you were Messina’s number one, her star player, that would do absolutely nothing to spare you from her wrath if she ever came to find out that you were living with Javier Peña. She wasn’t a fan of just how close the two of you had become over the last several months; she’d told you herself that she much preferred it if you kept your distance from him while you were off duty. One wrong move on your part or Javi’s and it was game fucking over. Messina wouldn’t hesitate to send one of your asses packing, back home to be assigned somewhere else, somewhere far away from the other.

Pursing your lips together lightly, you turned your attention back over to the mirror. Raising an eyebrow, you lifted the red minidress up against your body once more to get another good look at it, as if you hadn’t just been staring at it for the last five minutes before he’d appeared. “I don’t know, Javi. I don’t like this one all that much to be honest. I’m not even sure why the hell I let Connie talk me into buying it in the first place. She said it was cute,” You remarked, tilting your head slightly to the side. You wrinkled your nose at the diamond cut out design in the sides of it. Whoever designed it must have not had enough money to spring for more a teensy bit more fabric. “But it’s kind of tacky. And it makes me look like a whore.”

“Mm yes, but a very beautiful whore,” Javi stated, his smirk widening as he drank in the gorgeous sight of you before him. He licked his lips, openly admiring the way you were clad in nothing but one of his shirts, his pink button up with short sleeves that you had once told him you loved so much because it was your favorite color; you’d sneakily stolen it out of his closet on laundry day a couple weeks back while all of your clothes had been in the washing machine and had never given it back to him. Not that Javier even really wanted it back at this point—his shirt looked a million times better on you than ever it did on him. Seeing you in it did inexplicable things to him and he fucking loved it when you padded around your now shared apartment in nothing but a pair of panties and his pink shirt. He took another glimpse at you, nearly foaming at the mouth at how it fit your frame, how the hem of it fell to the tops of your smooth thighs, the material hardly doing anything to cover up the tantalizing curves of your hips and your perfect ass. “Hermosura. The most beautiful whore in all of Colombia.”

You narrowed your eyes at him through the mirror, wishing you had a free hand you could flip him off with. “Gee, thanks for the compliment, Peña. You are always such a fucking charmer, aren’t you?”

“Oh, come on. Solo es una bromita, muñeca. No tienes por qué ofenderte. I’m just messing around with you. You know I don’t think you actually look like a whore—and trust me, I know what a whore looks like,” he responded with a deep and hearty laugh. He uncrossed his arms, allowing them to fall down to his sides as he pushed himself away from the door frame. He sauntered his way further into your bedroom, uninvited. “I’m being serious about the dress, though. Go with the red one. El vestido rojo. It’s perfect. Besides, that color would look gorgeous on you, cariño. I bet it would look almost as good on you as pink does.” He laughed again as he added, “Nice shirt, by the way.”

Your annoyed expression immediately softened into one of guilt. “I’ve been meaning to give you your shirt back,” You told him, sheepishly. “Te lo juro, Javi.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you have,” Javier snorted, waving off the little white lie. He finally forced himself to tear his attention away from you and glanced around, observing the current state of your room instead. It looked like a tornado had hit the inside of your closet; dresses, jackets, and high heeled shoes were strewn all over the place. He wasn’t all too surprised by the mess. He knew you like he knew the back of his own hand by now, and this was typical of you when you were searching for the perfect outfit to wear on a free night out in the city. “I don’t remember you telling me you had any plans tonight, bonita. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with the chismosas of the office? Or are you going out for a girl’s night with Connie?”

You momentarily hesitated.

“Actually, I have a date.”

Through the mirror, you saw the smile fade from Javier’s face almost instantly.

Here we go, You thought inwardly to yourself.

“You have a date? With who?” he demanded.

Reluctantly, you turned around to face him. “You know Valeria, don’t you?”

The color drained from his face.

“That’s the translator who works up on the third floor, right?” He touched his hand to the back of his neck, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know her, but I’ve seen her around a couple of times.”

You almost laughed at the manner in which Javier tried playing dumb.

Of course he knew Valeria.

He had fucked her three weeks ago.

Javi had tried to keep it on the down low, but loud mouthed Valeria would brag to anyone who would listen all about how Agent Peña had fucked her in her office one evening while they’d been working late together and everyone else had gone home. Not that Javier even needed her services as a translator, he’d just needed an excuse to find himself in her office after hours so he could get his dick wet.

For some strange reason, you felt oddly fucking generous and decided to let Javier have this one, playing along with him and his sheer stupidity. “Yeah, her. She has an older brother who’s visiting the city for a few days. His name is Diego. He’s an immigration attorney who is here on business in Bogotá. She offered to set me up with him,” You explained, keeping everything as brief as possible. “I’m meeting him for drinks tonight.”

Javier frowned. “Have you met him in person?”

“Well no, but Valeria showed me his picture and she told me all about him. It’s not like he’s just some random ass guy I met on the street, Javi. He’s her brother, she advocated for him,” You tried to reason with him, knowing all too well where this conversation was heading. Sure, it was nice to know that Javier cared about you enough to be concerned about you meeting up with someone who was essentially a complete stranger, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t handle yourself. You’d spent many evenings sitting right in the laps of the violent criminals who worked for Escobar—a blind date with a coworker’s brother was nothing for him to make a fuss over. “I really don’t think that I have anything to worry about with him.”

He rigidly shook his head. “Look, no offense to Valeria, but I don’t like the idea of you running around this city at night with some fucking prick that you’ve never even met before. And before you throw all that undercover bullshit at me, just know that it’s not the same thing. You aren’t going out on the job tonight. You’re not going out with your team on standby to watch your back, you’re not going out with me and Murphy armed and ready to jump into action if things head south. What if something happens to you?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at the complete and utter ridiculousness of his drama king antics. “Oh, give me a fucking break, Peña. Diego’s not a member of the fucking cartel, he’s a lawyer. And besides that, you’re acting like I can’t take care of myself.”

“Listen, I know damn good and well that you can take care of yourself just fine, muñeca. But still, that doesn’t make me feel any better about this whole arrangement.” Javier’s hands went to his waist and he let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head once again. “I’m going to need to meet this guy before you go out with him. I don’t care whose fucking brother he is—whichever way you try to spin it, the bottom line is that he’s a still a fucking stranger and I want to check him out for myself before I let you go out with him.” He saw the mischievous twinkle in your eyes and peered at you suspiciously. “Please tell me he’s coming to pick you up here at the apartment.”

You laughed. “Of course not, Javi. I’m not stupid. I already knew you would behave like this. I knew you would go straight into overprotective mode, just like you always do. I didn’t want you scaring him off, so I’m taking a taxi cab and we’re meeting up at the bar instead.” You easily clocked the all too familiar glint in his eye and smiled sweetly at him. “And don’t even think about trying to guess which one it is so that you can show up and keep tabs on me the whole night. There are thousands of bars in this damn city and I can promise you that you’re not smart enough to figure out which one we’re going to, Agent Peña.”

Annoyed by the smugness in your tone and the way it was starting to get under his skin, Javier’s lips pressed into a thin, tight line. He watched you walk over to your closet, subtly swaying your hips to the music as you pulled out yet another dress to add to your rapidly growing list of options.

He could feel the envy prickling at each and every last single nerve ending in his entire body, his frustrations stewing at the mere thought of you going out with another man. His jaw clenched and he forced himself to shove the feeling down knowing damn well that he didn’t have the right to be jealous. Not when you two weren’t anything more than just friends.

If you’d just been a coworker, it would be different.

Javier would gladly, happily, risk mixing business with pleasure as he had so often done in the past with several secretaries—and a translator or two—in his time. But no matter how hard he’d tried over and over again to place you into that box, into that category, he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it.

You weren’t just his coworker, you were his friend.

His best friend.

For as much shit as he gave you, you mattered to him. You were important to him, way too important to ever risk fucking up your friendship by fucking you.

Still. Javier would be lying if he said he didn’t think about it. He thought about it all the damn time. When he discovered that fucking himself into the palm of his hand and moaning your name quietly over and over again under his breath didn’t quite do the job for him anymore, he would find himself standing outside of your bedroom prepared to say fuck it all and make his move on you. But then it happened every single fucking time without fail—as soon as he lifted his curled fist to knock on your door, he started to remember things.

He’d remember the way you could so easily make him laugh with your clever and quick witted sense of humor. He remembered all those late nights you two would spend together lounging on his brown leather couch in your pajamas watching old, poorly made slasher films while indulging in the greasiest, unhealthiest takeout Bogotá had to offer. He remembered how you could read him just like a fucking magazine, how you always knew when something was wrong—and how you would always somehow know exactly what to say and do to comfort him whenever he needed it the most.

He would remember how you’d come to feel like his home away from home.

And then he would drop his hand right back down to his side, whirl around on his heel, and march straight back into his bedroom where he had little choice but to go back to fantasizing about what could never be between you and him.

Snapping himself out of his own train of thought, Javier carefully stepped over the mountains of clothing and shoes on the floor and made his way over to another pile of dresses that were draped over the foot of your bed. He caught a glimpse of the lingerie set on top of them, brand new with the price tag still attached to the fabric; the set was black, made of delicate, see through lace that would leave very little to the imagination when you put it on. He picked up the thong, hooking the thin elastic of it around his index finger. “Something tells me that you’re not planning on coming back home tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Confused, you turned around and gasped, dropping the dresses in your hands. “Javier!”

“Are these even going to cover anything up?” he teased you with a laugh, his eyes gleaming with pure amusement as they darted between the thong and the lower half of your body. “Falta mucha tela, cariño.”

You rushed up to him and made a dive for the underwear. “Give me those!”

“How come you don’t ever wear anything like this around the apartment, hermosa?” Javi dangled them above your head and out of your reach. “All I ever get to see you in are those cotton panties, the ones with polka dots on them.” He glanced down, getting an eyeful of you and the aforementioned polka dot panties. “Kind of like the ones you’re wearing now—”

“Javier, cut it out!” You placed a hand on his shoulder as the other continued grabbing for the lingerie. “Come on, stop being such a fucking asshole!”

Although he could have easily enjoyed taunting you for hours and hours on end, Javier knew you wouldn’t hesitate to have your knee meet his balls. Not wanting to risk ending up on your floor curled up in pain, he eased up and handed them over to you.

“Idiota!” You hissed at him, furiously snatching the underwear out of his hand. You stomped over to your dresser and shoved them into the middle drawer, slamming it closed so hard the old stereo nearly went crashing to the floor. “You can be a real fucking douchebag, Peña.”

Javier wasn’t bothered by the insults; he’d grown used to those—however any trace of playfulness vanished as the reality began to set in for him. The reality of you sleeping with another a man tonight. “Wait a minute, are you really planning to fuck the guy?” He didn’t even make the attempt to mask the disappointment that laced his tone. “I mean, you haven’t even met him yet. I didn’t think you were that kind of girl, querida.”

“You sound awful judgmental for someone who brings home a different escort every other fucking week,” You snapped at him, placing your hands on your hips. “Oh, and speaking of escorts, I had the pleasure of meeting Alessandra in the bathroom this morning. She asked if I had a tank top that she could borrow since apparently you got too eager and ripped her shirt off last night.” You tilted your head, squinting at him as he started shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “If you happen to go back to her for a second round, tell her that I want it back. Washed.”

Javier grimaced, looking down at the floor. “Shit. I thought she would be gone by the time you woke up,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Lo siento, bonita. I’m sorry.”

You blinked. “Sorry for what?”

He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut.

Javier wasn’t all too sure, actually.

He didn’t have anything to apologize for, not really.

He was a single man who could do as, and who, he pleased.

Yet he still felt like a pile of dog shit knowing you’d encountered Alessandra while he had still been asleep.

You would never admit it, but Javier knew that to some extent, it hurt you to run into the women he would bring home. As if having to hear him railing them on the other side of your bedroom wall for hours wasn’t bad enough, having to meet them the following morning and seeing them half naked with their smeared makeup and disheveled hair from the previous night’s activities only made it so much fucking worse.

Having read his mind, you sighed and offered him some reassurance. “It’s fine, Javi. We both know that you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” You said, prompting him to look back up at you. You pointed a finger at him. “I do want my shirt back, though. And then maybe I’ll be nice and give you back yours.”

You expected Javi to scamper off to his room with his tail between his legs in shame. It was what he usually did—he’d avoid you for about a few hours until the dust settled, and then everything would go back to normal. Instead of running off, he stood there and spoke again.

“Are you really going to have sex with this guy?”

You tried to ignore how disheartened he sounded.

“I don’t know,” You confessed, quietly. “I want to have sex with him, but I don’t know if I’ll actually have the fucking balls to go through with it.”

“Por qué? Estas nerviosa?”

Though Javier hadn’t been poking fun at you, you couldn’t help but feel irritated with him for asking you if you were nervous; because you actually were nervous, and him asking you only made you even more fucking nervous. “And so what if I am a little nervous?” You challenged him, lightly. “Sorry that we’re not all just confidently fucking our way through this city like you are, Peña.”

“When’s the last time you had sex, anyway?”

“None of your fucking business, that’s when,” You quipped.

“That’s not fair.” Javi pouted at you. “You know when the last time I had sex was.”

“Not by choice,” You retorted. “You’re right on the other side of my paper thin wall and I left my Walkman in the office.”

Javi waited expectantly for an answer. He wasn’t going to drop the subject, and you knew that.

“You’re such a stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?” You muttered. Feeling a burning heat flood to your face, you decided to give him just about the most generic answer there was in order to get him off your back. “It was a long, long time ago.”

“Okay, but how long ago?” He pressed, curiously. “Are we talking weeks? Months?”

Your stomach began to churn violently, the hidden secret you’d kept to yourself for your entire adult life now at risk of being exposed.

“I-I really don’t remember,” You stammered out in response, averting your gaze away from his. “Can we not talk about my sex life, please? Besides, it’s getting late and I still need to take a shower and get ready for my date tonight. So if you would just kindly fuck all the way off, that would be great.”

Javier took a step back and there was a very brief moment where you had been certain you’d just narrowly avoided what could have been a painful, humiliating conversation. However, just as he was about to turn to leave, Javi’s eyes widened as it slowly clicked into place for him.

“Wait a minute—are you fucking serious?”

You groaned. “Javier, please don’t. For the sake of what’s left of my sanity, please don’t,” You nearly pleaded him, wishing that a large, Twilight Zone style swirling vortex would open up in the middle of your floor and swallow you whole.

“You’ve never had sex before,” he realized. “Have you?”

Your face felt like it had caught on fire.

Not knowing what to say or even do, you clasped your hands together and wrung them anxiously in front of you.

Of all the people to find out your secret, it just had to be Peña.

“Cariño, are you really a virgin?”

Surprised, you looked up at him.

Javi wasn’t teasing you or being a dick about it.

He seemed genuinely perplexed by the fact that you’d never had sex before. Not that it made it any less mortifying.

“Yes,” You admitted, exhaling the breath that you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in. “I’m a virgin, alright? There, are you satisfied?”

“But how? Going undercover? And informants—”

Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I know this might come as a shock to you, but you don’t always have to fuck your informants to get what you need out of them, Peña. It’s not a requirement. I use my brains, not my body.”

“You’re shaming me for using my body?” he joked lightly, hoping it would further ease the awkward nature of the conversation—for your sake, not his.

“Just a little bit.” You offered him a small, crooked smile and felt your tense shoulders finally begin to relax. “You’re probably going to think it’s stupid or maybe even crazy, but the truth is that I’ve always wanted to wait and give it to the right man. Maybe even to a man that I’m in love with. But with the way my romantic life has been going, it just seems like that’s never going to happen for me.” You shrugged. “I just want to lose it already, Javi. I’m almost in my fucking thirties—either I lose it now, or I may as well throw in the damn towel and join a convent.”

“You would look kind of cute in a nun’s habit,” Javi mused, thoughtfully.

You shot him a glare, but felt the corners of your mouth threatening to turn up into another smile.

After a long minute, Javier broke the silence that had fallen over the both of you. “So then, Valeria’s older brother is the man you’re going to lose your virginity to? Tonight?”

“That’s the plan. He’s only here until the end of the week. It’d be no strings attached, so it works out perfectly.” You anxiously chewed on the inside of your cheek. “But only if I can find the courage to actually go through with it.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Not knowing what to do.”

Javier quirked an eyebrow. “It’s not exactly rocket science, querida.”

You resisted the sudden urge to go up to him and backhand the stupid smirk right off of his face.

“Could you please just take me seriously for one second, Peña?” You huffed out in frustration. “I’m just really fucking nervous about it, alright? What if I can’t—what if I’m not good at it?”

Javi’s bottom lip rolled between his teeth and he stifled his laughter. “Preciosa, you’re being kind of…” He trailed off, trying to choose his next word carefully.

You lifted your chin. “Kind of what?”

“Ridiculous. And before you come over here and start pummeling me to death with those little fists of yours...” He stopped and held up his hands in defense. He took a second or two to let eyes glaze over you from head to toe. “I’m only saying that because you’re fucking gorgeous, muñequita. Any man would be lucky to have a night with you. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

“It’s not about how I look, Javier. It’s about how I perform.” You felt your face grow hot for what had to be the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes. Never did you think this would be a conversation you’d be having with him of all fucking people. “I listen to the way those women you bring home—I hear what they do to you. And I hear how much you like it.”

His lips parted slightly. “And you want to do that to him?”

“I want to make him feel good.”

Javier’s jealously simmered in his veins. But what could he do?

Nothing, that’s what. Just like him, you could do as, and who, you pleased. But if he could just get his hands on you first, at least to some extent, it would help ease the blow. He saw nothing wrong with blurring the lines, so long as he didn’t cross them.

Javi hummed. “If you really want to know how to make a man feel good, I can help you.”

“You can help me?” You repeated. “How?”

“By showing you a thing or two.”

You let out something mixed between a scoff and a laugh.

“I am not having sex with you, Peña.”

He tossed you an innocent look. “That’s not what I was suggesting at all.” He crossed the bedroom and walked over to you, reaching for your hands. He took them in his own and then started pulling you towards your bed. “If you’re really that worried about not knowing what to do, I can give you a few pointers. And calmada, querida. Our clothes stay on,” he reassured you before you could open your mouth to protest. “Just think of it as a friend helping out a friend. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”

You chewed on your lower lip. “I don’t know about this, Javi.”

Javier’s thumbs softly smoothed across the back of your hands. “You trust me, don’t you?”

“Right now, I’m not so sure that I do.” You paused long enough for him to throw you an exasperated, almost offended look. You rolled your eyes at him and nodded your head. “Yes, of course I trust you, Peña. I trust you with my fucking life. Literally, I put my life in your hands at least once or twice a week.”

“Then let me help you, hermosa.”

You inhaled a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled it softly. “Fine. But remember, our clothes stay on—” You were cut off, all the air leaving your lungs as Javi yanked you forward, slamming you against his chest. You looked up at him, ready to give him a piece of your mind for knocking the wind out of you, but as his eyes met yours, words failed you and all you could do was stare at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

This could not possibly end well.

And yet here you were, going along with it.

He snaked an arm around your waist, holding your body flush against his. Feeling how tense you had become, stiff as a fucking board, Javi gave you a light shake in an effort to get you to loosen up a bit. “First thing is first, you need to relax. There’s no need to overthink this, cariño. Especially not with me.” He reached up with his opposite hand, letting his index finger feather along your jawline. He then slipped it underneath your chin, lifting it ever so slightly and forcing you to look right into his rich pools of espresso. “I mean it. It really wouldn’t take much for a beautiful girl like you to drive me—I mean, drive him wild.”

You tried your hardest to keep your voice from trembling, but between his touch and being in such close proximity, you were finding it a hell of a lot more difficult than you’d imagined. “Show me, Peña. What drives you—I mean, what’s going to drive him wild?”

“Well, it always starts with the right kiss.”

You quickly shook your head. “Javi—”

“Kiss me.”

Had he lost his fucking mind?

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” You echoed your thoughts

“Just a friend helping out a friend,” Javi reminded you in a murmur. “Remember?”

You should have said no. You should have decked him for even suggesting such a thing.

Instead, you gave him a small nod. You rested your hands delicately on his hard, lean chest and tilted your head upwards, lightly pressing your lips to his for a split second before quickly pulling away.

“There.”

“That was fucking pathetic,” Javier laughed softly, his warm breath fanning over the tip of your nose. “You’re not kissing your abuela, you know.”

You smacked his chest. “Javi! Leave my grandma out of this.”

“You have to kiss a man like you actually want him, querida. Here, allow me to demonstrate.”

Your throat went dry as his grip around your waist tightened. He moved his other hand away from your chin and it went to the back of your neck, gingerly tilting your head up towards his. Your heart hammered almost painfully against your ribcage, beating way too hard and way too fast for him not to feel it against his own chest. You had to silently remind yourself to breathe as Javi inched his face closer to yours, slowly. You knew that he was doing it on purpose, moving an agonizingly glacial pace to allow your anticipation to build; all the while his dark eyes were staring deeply into the depths of your very fucking soul, causing a fire to set ablaze deep in your lower belly.

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily as the tip of his nose skimmed a spot near the corner of your mouth, his lips brushing the underside of your jawline.

God, he was fucking good.

“Javi…” You uttered his name weakly.

You needed to stop this. Javier was your friend—friends didn’t do shit like this.

Javi sensed your reluctance. “It’s alright, mi vida,” he whispered, uttering an affectionate pet name that he’d never used before. He gave you a small grin as he moved in to finally close the small gap of space between your faces. His lips met yours and every ridiculous cliché of sparks flying and fireworks exploding occurred the moment they did. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, gently coaxing its way into your mouth to begin a slow, sensual dance with yours. Cupping the back of your neck, he tilted your head up a bit further, granting himself better access to your mouth so that he could fully explore it inch by inch.

There was kissing other men.

And then there was kissing Javier.

Whimpering, your body melted against his as he swelled your lips with a kiss that was slow and sensual, yet somehow still hungry and possessive at the same time. Javier’s hands travelled down to your hips, his fingers skimming the hem of his shirt that you wore. He took the opportunity to sneak them underneath the garment, allowing them to meet the warmth of your skin.

Gasping, you jerked back and pulled away from him.

“Javier!” You squeaked out his name breathlessly, furiously swatting his hands away from your sides. You glared at him. “I thought we agreed, our clothes fucking stay on!”

“Funny, I wasn’t aware that I was taking any of your clothes off.” Javier reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. He then took a step backwards and gestured towards your bed. “Lay down.”

Your mouth fell open at his request.

“W-what?” You sputtered out, your eyes wide.

“You heard me. Get on the bed and lay down.”

Javi reached down, sweeping your pile of dresses off of the bed and onto the floor.

“Why? What are you going to do?” You questioned him, shuffling anxiously from one bare foot to the other.

Javier rolled his eyes and let out a small, impatient sigh. “Just do it, hermosa. You can trust me.”

Swallowing harshly, you obeyed him and walked around to the side of your bed, taking a seat. You inhaled another deep breath before bringing your legs up and laying back, your head resting against your decorative pillows. You nervously tugged and pulled at the hem of his stolen pink shirt, trying to cover yourself up as best as you could as you laid there, sprawled out before him; however Javier had other plans. He climbed onto the bed after you, positioning his body so it hovered over yours. He nudged your legs apart with his knee, settling himself right in between your thighs. He grabbed one of your legs and hiked it up around his waist, putting the two of you in a very, very dangerous position. His fingers remained wrapped around your thigh, his touch burning right into your soft flesh as he held your leg in place around him.

“Don’t be shy, muñequita.” His voice had gone low and husky. He trailed his hand further up your thigh.

He grinned, feeling satisfied with himself when he felt the goosebumps erupt across your skin.

“Shut up, I’m not shy,” You fibbed, prompting him to chuckle.

“Mentirosa.” Javi’s hand abandoned your leg and he brought his hand up to the side of your face to cradle your cheek in his palm. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip.

“Kiss me,” he commanded, gently. “And this time, kiss me like you mean it.”

You reached up for him with trembling hands and grabbed two fistfuls of his pewter blue, button up shirt. You pulled him down towards you and lifted yourself up slightly off your pillows, crashing your mouth against his. You allowed yourself to finally release any fears that you might have had before and kissed him greedily and with fervor, as if it would be the very last time you’d ever get to kiss Javier Peña—because it very well could be the last time you would ever get to kiss Javier Peña.

You kissed him deeply, going on until your lungs began to burn—you only broke away from him once they started screaming, demanding oxygen.

Tearing yourself apart from him, you released his shirt and dropped back down onto your pillows, breathlessly asking, “Better?”

“Oh, so much better. Good girl, mi muñequita linda,” he praised, grinning again as he caressed the silkiness of your cheek. He lowered his head and lips ghosted over yours for a moment before he moved them down your neck, feathering kisses to any exposed skin peeking out from underneath his shirt. His hand found your breast and he groaned realizing that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath it. He kneaded the perfect, soft mound of flesh through the thin fabric, rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers. He bucked his hips into yours, causing a loud moan to escape from your lips the second you felt his hardened cock through his tight, light blue jeans. He caught sight of the way you blushed at the sound that he’d elicited from you and his grin widened. “Noises like that? The louder the better. So don’t hold back, preciosa.”

“What else can I do to make you—to make him feel good?”

Javier dipped his face right into the hollow of your neck, thinking it over for a moment. “A woman who takes control can be very sexy. I like it—I bet he’ll like it if you get on top.”

“I think I can do that.” Biting your bottom lip, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him back, sliding yourself out from underneath him. You guided him to lay back onto your pillows and climbed on top of him, straddling his waist.

Shit. Javier cursed inwardly.

Maybe he’d been in over his head with this idea.

He knew at some point he’d have to stop it from going too far—but would he be able to?

“How do you like it?” You asked him, shyly. This time, you hadn’t bothered to correct yourself.

You didn’t want to know how to please another man.

You wanted to know how to please Javi.

Even if you’d never get the chance to do it.

“Depends on the mood,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders in the most nonchalant manner that he could muster under the circumstances—as if his cock wasn’t rock hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans and begging to be inside you.

“Te gusta despacito?” You start to rock your hips back and forth against his, slowly. “Do you like it slow?”

Javier’s breath hitched in the back his throat. At this point, there was no doubt about it—you could feel him underneath you, throbbing. “Sometimes,” he managed to choke out in reply. “Like I said. Just depends on the mood.”

“Or what about like this?” You grinned down at him, gaining a sense of confidence as you started to move faster on top of him, finding your perfect rhythm. You could see and clearly feel what you were doing to him. Knowing that you were having this kind of effect on Peña was nothing short of a fucking dream come true.

His hands went to your hips, holding on as you picked up the pace, grinding your clothed core down against his bulge.

You could feel your own arousal pooling between your legs, soaking your panties; you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d leave behind a wet spot on his jeans. “How am I doing?”

“Fucking amazing, muñeca,” he answered, earnestly. His long, thick fingers dug into your sides as he suggested, “It helps if you put on a little show while you’re up there, too.” He then pictured you in that sexy black lingerie set you’d bought; he imagined what it would be like to slip that tiny little thong to the side so you could freely ride his cock. The mere thought had him seeing stars.

“A show, huh?” You smirked and popped the top two buttons of your shirt—his shirt—exposing the smooth valley between your breasts to him. “I think I can do that too,” You giggled, pulling the fabric to the side, just enough to give him the tiniest glimpse of the soft curves of your chest but not enough to expose yourself completely.

“Hermosa,” he couldn’t help but groan out. It took every ounce of strength he had inside him not to reach up and tear his shirt right off of you so he could see all of you.

You grabbed his hands from your hips and slowly began guiding them all around your body. You started by placing them on your breasts, giving him permission to cop another feel before moving them slowly down the lengths of your sides and placing them on your bare thighs. From there, you picked up Javi’s hands once more and placed them behind you, allowing him to take two generous handfuls of your ass. Your hands then abandoned his and you placed them on his chest, supporting yourself as you continued to roll your hips against his, riding him through his jeans. You tossed your head back and closed your eyes; the friction of your clit against his pelvis even through all the clothes felt like absolute heaven, and you let out a lustful moan that bounced off of your bedroom walls as you continued to drive your hips harder against his own.

Realizing that this was no longer a lesson and you were actually pleasuring yourself, Javier groaned again. He moved his hands back to your hips and found himself bucking his own hips upwards to meet you halfway—he abandoned any and all worries about taking it too far. He wanted you to come.

He needed to see you come.

“Javi,” You gasped his name, moaning again.

“That’s it, muñeca,” he rasped out. “Just like that, baby. Keep going. What a good girl, what a good fucking girl.”

Any and all common sense had been washed away by pleasure and by your need to reach that sweet, sweet release.

It was so close. You felt him right there, right between your clothed folds, and all you could do was imagine what it would be like to have his cock fill you up and stretch you completely.

His name began to slip from your lips, rolling off of your tongue over and over again with such ease.

Your movements fell in perfect sync with his.

You went down, he went up.

You pulled, he pushed.

No doubt about it, Javier was trying to get you off.

Somehow, you find a voice that speaks in between all your pitiful little pants.

“J-Javi, maybe we s-shouldn’t—”

Javier quickly sat up and wrapped one of his arms around your waist. He slammed your mouths together, silencing you mid sentence. He thrusted upwards, and you whined into his kiss, rubbing your clit against his bulge even harder.

The beginning of your orgasm coiled up tightly in your belly, and you knew it would spring forward any second now.

“Javi, I’m so close—”

“It’s okay, hermosa. Come for me,” he mumbled into your mouth. “I’ve got you.”

Your arms found their way around his shoulders and you buried your face into his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, your loud cries came out muffled against his collarbone as you unraveled, coming undone with one last cry of his name.

You slumped forward, resting your head on his shoulder as you fought to catch your breath, the pleasure still pulsing between your thighs.

Javier’s other arm curled around you and he said nothing as he held you.

Once you’d finally started coming down from your high, your eyes flew open and a chill went up the length of your spine.

What had you two just done?

Still straddling his lap, you pulled back. “Javi—”

Without warning, Javier flipped you over so you were on your back underneath him once again. He hovered over you, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he dipped his head and captured your lips with his one final, deep and sensual kiss.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about tonight,” he murmured once he had pulled away. “You’re fucking perfect, mi vida.”

He touched the tip of his nose to yours before climbing off of you.

“I fucking hope this guy realizes what a lucky son of a bitch he is,” Javier said quietly before turning on the heel of his boot and walking out of your bedroom, leaving you laying there with your mouth parted open in complete shock.

Translations

Solo es una bromita, muñeca. No tienes por qué ofenderte. - It’s just a little joke, doll. No need to get offended.

El vestido rojo. - The red dress.

Te lo juro, Javi. - I swear to you, Javi.

Chismosas - Gossipers

Falta mucha tela, cariño. - There is a lot of fabric missing, darling.

Mentirosa. - Liar.

Te gusta despacito? - Do you like it a little slow?

#javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x you #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña fic #javier peña angst #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x y/n #javier pena #pedro pascal characters #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #javier peña smut #narcos smut #javier pena smut

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cthulhus-curse · 1 month ago

Text

What To Expect When You're Expecting

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 11,175

Warnings: Angst, Degradation, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Miscarriage, Other, Pregnancy, Reader has a Penis, Smut | 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: Wanda’s pregnancy is a journey you’d never let her transverse by herself, so through every little moments of it, you are there by her side holding her hand whether good or bad moments ensue.

Wide, hazy green eyes flickered over the small stick beneath them. They tried to make sense of it, to find an explanation for it, among the others scattered in the room that shared similar results. Teeth grabbed her bottom, chapped lip in their grasp. They dug themselves deep enough to draw small bits of blood, but nothing was enough to avert her gaze away – away from the two lines that showed a positive result that other tests shared.

After her period had been late and a mysterious sickness overtook her each morning with a heightened sensitivity for certain smells, Wanda knew to rush to the store and buy enough pregnancy tests to get concise results. She waited patiently, and when they all came about with the similar conclusion, her giddiness soon turned to dread. Surely she hadn’t been careful, the point had always been for her to reach such a place after months of discussing it with you, and yet it was impossible to rid herself of the tight knot forming in her chest. Once again, she had to duck as she threw up, and the tears in her eyes were from both excitement and fear.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Stuck in her trance, Wanda barely took in the words as you passed through the front door. She cleaned her mouth, and while standing gripping the bathroom sink, she couldn’t help but look up at herself. Her breathing was ragged, surely her sudden anxiety making the most of the situation. Previously she had been ready, even joyous, to find such a result, but when reality came about, Wanda nearly ran from the responsibility of it all.

“Hey, where are you? You’re not gonna believe what happed to Jen at work. We were walking to get lunch and she tri- Wanda?” Your voice grew louder the closer you got. Soon enough you stood in the middle of your shared bedroom inside a seemingly empty house – apart from the light peeking from under the bathroom door that was. Frowning, you carefully stood before it and lightly knocked. “Wanda, are you in there?”

There came no response as Wanda grew lightheaded. She could feel her knees beginning to give out as her thoughts went blank, all except for that small twinge of insecurity that made its way across her mind. You’re not good enough, it said. And as she fell against the floor, her backside stinging, a feeling that mirrored the tears cascading down her face, Wanda believed it.

“Baby? Is this…” You didn’t want to assume, but based on previous experiences, you posed the question. “Did you get your period? I can go get your heating pad and put on a sitcom while I run to the store and get you some chocolate. Oh, I can even make you those salted caramel banana pancakes you like and get you some meds for the pain.” All you received as a reply was a choke sob, and although it could be nothing, you wouldn’t dare take a chance. “Shit, that’s not good,” you mumbled before trying the door handle again. “Honey, I’m coming in!”

A mental note was made for you to remind yourself to repair the door after you used all your strength to crack it open. Hissing, you stared down at the broken lock, but alas, that was not your focus. Instead you went to Wanda’s aid, and as soon as you saw her sitting in the corner of the bathroom so disheveled and finding it difficult to catch her breath, you were on your knees before her.

Your hands clutched Wanda’s shaky ones. They squeezed tight to signify your appearance, to show your wife that she was there, that she was safe with you. Leaning in, you pressed your lips against her clammy forehead and left them there as you pulled her close to you. Even in her highly frightened state, she knew to throw herself onto you and allow herself to be comforted.

“Shh you’re safe, sweetheart. You’re right here at home safe in my arms. See?” You accented your words by running your hand up and down her arm, and cupping her face, cleaning up tears, so she could feel you. “You’re safe, Wanda.”

Minutes passed until she could finally catch her breath. Wanda cried out loud, but the sounds were muffled by your chest as she nuzzled against. Ever since you had met her, she dealt with extreme bouts of anxiety that left her frozen. Quickly you learned to comfort her during those times, but it was rare for Wanda to exhibit such feelings after a long time of being fine.

She was still shaky and her sight seemed unfocused, but once she stopped crying, Wanda finally spoke. “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh?” You frowned as your brain rummaged to take in the words and make sense of them. It had been months of non-stop work to get to that point, so as soon as you registered them, your eyes widened. “Oh!”

“They’re all…” Wanda exhaustively looked around the bathroom, nudging a pregnancy test with her hand to show you. “They’re all positive. I know this is what we’ve been trying for, but I’m scared. I can’t do this, Y/N?”

“How come? You’re the most capable and confident woman I know,” you mumbled as you brushed wild strands of red away from Wanda’s face. “You’ll be a great mother, Wanda. That little peanut would be lucky to have you as a mom, if that’s what you still want.”

Wanda knew it to be true, and although she would always have the option to not go through with the pregnancy, the thought of having a small kid running around the house made her smile before her thoughts turned sour. “But what if something happens to me or you like it happened to…them?”

The crash had occurred during your childhood. You knew Wanda then, and as soon as you heard of your parents getting into an accident, your blood turned cold. You were only kids during that time. Back then you didn’t stop crying whenever the slightest mention of your parents came about, and it was up to both Wanda and Pietro, their family as well, to comfort the lonely orphan they left behind. Although you didn’t dare bring up your parents much, it surely had been something you gave thought you when trying for a child.

“That’s not going to happen, honey. I promise,” you reassured her. “Plus, I’d do anything to keep you safe. I won’t let anything happen to you or to myself, okay? Not under my watch.”

“Thank you,” Wanda stuttered out weakly. “I, uhm, I know I’m showing the exact opposite, but I’m really happy right now.”

There was nothing for you to feel, but as you dragged a hand to Wanda’s stomach, one of her own subsequently flying to yours, your heart skipped a beat. “Me too, baby.”

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

During the first trimester you were focused entirely on educating yourself about the baby on the way. Wanda had gone to see Dr. Harkness, a friend of hers at that, who only gave more certainty to the pregnancy. She hissed the first time the gel was squirted onto her belly as a wand soon came to pass over it. The six weeks mark passed, and an entire month after you two had found out was finally met.

“Well that’s definitely a fetus in there,” Agatha hummed as she stared at the screen. She left the wand unmoving, turning to a laying Wanda for you and her to see the screen. There was barely anything there but a small circle she deemed as the baby. “Everything looks fine. The little bugger is about the size of a sweet pea right about now. You see that blob right there?” Agatha pointed at the circle. “That’s your baby.”

“Our baby,” Wanda repeated with adoration. She clung to your hand and stared up at you with glowing eyes that drifted down to her abdomen. “Can you believe it, honey? That’s our kid.”

“That’s a pretty cool blob,” you settled for laughing at the sight of it, which only earned you a light slap for your wife. “But yeah, that’s our sweet pea.”

“Sweet peas,” Agatha casually corrected.

The room went silent as she uttered her words and kept staring at the screen that showed off a second blob. You and Wanda stared at it, then at each other, all before returning to the screen. Surely the idea of having a child was solidified in your minds and you were ready for what was to come, but never did you expect to find out you were having two at once.

“Come again?” You sputtered with fear. “Sweet peas?”

“It looks like you’re having twins. It should show up better during your next ultrasound, but from what I can see, those are two fetuses growing in there,” Agatha said with the utmost calmness. “Thank god I only got stuck with one. Between Kate and the newborn, I have been stuck taking care of two kids as it is.”

Neither nor Wanda were awaiting to find out you were having twins. As you found out, the rest of the appointment went quiet. Even when you scheduled the follow-up, Wanda squeezed your hand for dear life and nodded dumbly when the dates were given to her. You waltzed to the car in a haze, and as soon as you entered, Wanda didn’t care to start the car.

“Twins,” was all she said in defeat.

Gulping, you nodded with a blank stare. “Yup, twins.”

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While keeping up with her changing hormones, you were always there by Wanda’s side. Whether it was to hold her hair up as she puked or even ridding yourself of smells that made her nauseated, you were unable to leave her as it was. She needed you the same way you needed her. Especially in her state, you refused to leave her alone.

So it was a no-brainer when you met Wanda’s urges…all of them.

“How do I look? I feel a bit stupid,” Wanda grumbled as she stood by the door frame exiting the bathroom. She gazed down at her body and cringed slightly. Her breasts had already increased in size slightly, something she knew had your mouth watering in secrecy. Surely she’d be excited for such a feat if it wasn’t for the soreness she felt upon them. Sighing, she watched as they were clothed in frilly fabric before eyeing the skirt that barely covered her thighs. “Don’t you think it’s…too much? I know we’ve done more before, but I don’t think I look great.”

You knew Wanda was talking to you, but you were unable to register the words as your eyes nearly boggled out of your head. Regardless of her insecurities, you settled then that she was absolutely glorious while wearing the outfit you got her. It was one that mirrored that of a maid with a little band over her head and even thigh-high socks to match. Surely when you bought it Wanda hadn’t been pregnant, but it made her appear more delicious as her body begged to break free from the tight dress.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” you grunted. With a mind of its own, all nude sitting at the edge of the bed, your cock twitched. You gulped down with embarrassment, but the flush over your cheeks was enough to help Wanda relax with amusement. “I, uhm, I really like it.”

Raising her eyebrows, Wanda scoffed. “Yeah? Perv.”

“You’re the one that agreed to it!” You exasperated back as Wanda made her way towards you, her hips swaying even more than usual as her breasts threatened to spill out of the confines of the dress. “I didn’t mind if you picked out the cow outfit, the princess one, or even the cat ears.”

“A cow?” She stood before you with arms crossed. Her gaze averted itself to the harness between your legs. “But I wouldn’t be the one getting milked, sweetheart. Shouldn’t you be my little cow?”

“Not when you’re my whore of a maid,” you confidently said, but immediately regretted your words. “Sorry, was that too much? I know you said you’d like it but I don’t know how to be mean to you. Guess I just love you a lot.”

The head tilt she gave you was a trademark move of her. “If you love me then you should treat me like a whore, baby. We can take it slow if you’d like. Hm, maybe do a little bit more roleplaying. Wouldn’t you like that, master?”

Wanda’s hand grazed your hard cock, and for a moment time stopped. No matter how many years you had spent by each other’s sides, you still melted as you did the first time she touched you. There was no denying your adoration for her. Wanda was everything you wanted and more. The simplest movement caused you to moan and throw your head back, while she smiled watching you intently.

“R-roleplaying?”

“That’s right. Lay back for me, honey,” she pushed you onto the bed before taking her rightful place on top of you. “Today is all about me cleaning up the mess I caused. I made you this hard and sticky, huh?” Wanda questioned in awe as she gripped your dick. “Maybe some other time you can film us while fucking me. We can pretend I love posting videos online and slutting myself out for the world to see, and you’re the little pervert that makes me. Fuck, I want you in control so bad. As much as I love making you squirm, I just need you to blow off all your steam on me while I…” she leaned in dangerously close. “Blow something else.”

“Oh my god,” you whined as you felt the tip of your member being brushed against Wanda’s slick, throbbing center. Her words made your skin burn bright red while she lit it aflame. It was impossible to resist her, but even more so in her pregnant state that made her glow further. “I- just wait a second.”

Wanda knitted her eyebrows together as you hastily reached out to the nightstand. She was even more confused when you retrieved a small packet. Knowing what it was fueled her innocence. Watching you tear it open was just the last straw she needed to break out.

“Wha- what are you doing?”

You shrugged, sharing a similar amount of doubt with her. “I’m…putting on a condom?”

“Why? You can’t get me more pregnant than I already am,” her laughter made you feel embarrassed, but you knew she had a point.

“Well, I just thought it would be safer to-”

“Y/N, you have about five seconds to put yourself inside of me before I make you,” Wanda grumbled. Her hand reached out for the condom you tried to tear open, only to grab it and throw it over her head. Neither cared where it landed. Not when she slowly pulled herself away from you and teased her way out. “Five, four, three, two…”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Your hardened length was grabbed and lied up against her gaping hole. Pulling up her skirt, you were met with the glorious sight of her shaven pussy. It made it easy to see her juices running down her inner thighs and hear the sloshing sounds of her pussy as you rubbed against it. With a nod from Wanda, you very slowly pushed your way inside, almost erupting immediately as you clung to her hips for support.

“There you go,” Wanda whimpered with feigned confidence. “Oh f- fuck baby!”

No matter how many times Wanda had you inside her, she simply couldn’t grow tired of it. Her velvety walls clung to your cock for dear life. They welcomed you with a tight hug that made it impossible for her to descend further on you. It was then up to you to hold her in place and gently push yourself to her depths.

“Is that good?” You knew she wanted more, so you gave it to her. Even if your bottom lip was gnawed by your teeth, you wanted your wife to enjoy herself. “You fucking slut.”

“Your slut,” Wanda echoed with a sudden thrill dripping from her voice. “I love it so much, master. You spoil me, always making me feel so good.”

“Well, it’s your job to clean this mess up,” you explained as you found a steady rhythm. Your eyes were glued to her pussy where your cock was deeply nestled inside. It wasn’t hard to see how you disappeared inside Wanda, feeling as your balls slapped against her skin letting out a mouth-watering sound. “I don’t give a fuck about how it makes you feel. You’re my property, meaning you should be focused on making your master feel better. You wouldn’t want me to find a better maid to help me out with my not-so-little problem, would you?”

“No!”

The two of you always discussed the scenes previously. Wanda held your hand as she told you exactly what you wanted. Although she knew you were apprehensive about potentially hurting her feelings, she promised it would do the exact opposite. Being made to feel like nothing turned her on to no end. As an alternative she said you could use a paddle on her, one that you used only a handful of times. Surely hurting her made you feel aroused as well, but with her being pregnant you hesitated to be too much.

When she was on top of you bouncing like the perfect maid, all those thoughts subsided. She swallowed your dick as though it was meant to be. You were her owner, and Wanda, as she begged to be, was your dumb property. Grabbing the neckline of her dress, one that barely covered her breasts, you strongly tugged at it.

Her tits poured out of the torn fabric making you even more motivated to ram her. Your hands curiously grabbed both of them, ensuring to squeeze them tenderly so as to not hurt your lover who pushed them closer to you. Rosy erect nipples were swirled before being pinched enough to draw a scream from the depths of Wanda’s throat. You loved hearing her, but more so if the entire neighborhood was well-aware of how you took her.

“Fuckin’ bitch,” you grunted. The deeper you went, the closer you got to your tip pressing against her sweetest spongy spot that always made her cum when repeatedly stimulated. “You like that? I bet you do. You’re nothing but a stupid cumrag for me to use. A fleshlight can do the same fucking thing you can, but you can’t shut up, huh? Go on, show the neighbors just how good your master fucks you. I bet they all know by now what a dumb cumrag of a maid you are by now.”

Never had you gone so far with your degrading verbiage. Most of the time you kept to sweet praises. Seeing Wanda smile beneath you as you worshiped her body was enough. You didn’t even need release, but instead to spoil your partner as she wished. Now that she had many different thoughts about what could be done to her, you’d humor her ideas until the end of time.

“Baby I’m so fucking close,” Wanda broke out of character for only a few seconds, but you wouldn’t fault her for that. She desperately jumped up and down your dick as she begged you to ruin her for anyone else. From the dress that was tugged up, you could practically see the outline of your penis even through her appetizing stomach rolls you’d often kiss before eating her out. “Ah! Y/N!”

Using all your strength, you made quick work to flip her over so she’d be laying on her back while you rammed her from above. Wanda hugged you close, and as drunk in lust as she was, she still found time to giggle when your face buried itself between her tits. That sound immediately died in her lips when you gave her something to cry out about.

The moment Wanda came, you did so as well. Her pussy was unbelievably tight and it gripped you with an immense force you simply couldn’t get anywhere else – not even with the beloved fleshlights she’d gotten you. Your balls hit her skin as you were close enough to merely ghost in the slightest bit at her swollen clit.

As Wanda rode out her orgasm, you stuffed her to the brim with your own seed. You didn’t remember the last time you came so much. Still, it was nothing compared to the desperation you had felt on the night you conceived after a rather wild time at her friend’s birthday party when you returned home to claw at one another. The woman had begged you for months to fill her up “nice and good” as she said, and although you had been successful in your chore, you simply couldn’t shake that feeling away.

Even when the two of you were spent, your tongue stuck out and licking at her sore breasts and nipples, you were still balls-deep inside of her. “That was…fuck.” It was impossible to find the proper words to describe such achieved pleasures. “It was amazing.”

Wanda allowed you to nuzzle your face and almost suffocate yourself on the valley of her breasts. “You really outdid yourself, master,” she chuckled. “But I do think it’s time for me to do a better job at cleaning, with my mouth at that, sweetheart.”

That night neither of you found the strength to do anything else but devour one another. Wanda’s hormones grew, but so did you desire for her. Even later in the shower you were unable to keep your hands off her in your exhausted state, eventually falling asleep hugging her tightly. With her by your side, it was a wonder how you got anything done.

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“You know, I’ve been doing some reading…”

Although more words were spoken, you simply couldn’t help but involuntarily ignore them. There came enough stress once the first trimester was out of the way. The monthly appointments with Wanda’s doctor helped relieve some of it. Agatha was kind enough to reassure you two that although pregnancy with twins was not a walk in the park, that you’d do well. But alas, that did not soothe the anxieties you felt over telling her parents. During the beginning of the second trimester Wanda decided to tell them, and she wanted you to be there for it.

Oleg and Irina weren’t bad people whatsoever. During your childhood once your parents passed, they were the ones who were always there by your side when your grandparents took you in. If anything were the surrogates of what you lost in the beginning, guardians who’d ensure you’d never be harmed. Even when you and Wanda became open about your relationship, nothing changed. They still loved you, and yet you sought out their approval enough to fear anything other than that.

“...and then Peggy actually ate her placenta. She told me all about it while I was eating lunch and I’ve never felt sicker. Apparently it tastes really good, but I wouldn’t be able to do it,” Wanda carried on. It was only the end that you barely listened to, and were far too confused to ask her to explain herself again. “I can’t imagine walking out of the hospital with your placenta in a bag. Do you think they drain the blood? I mean, I assume you do. Does it count as meant or…Y/N? Are you listening to me, honey?”

“Yeah, that’s awesome. Sounds great,” you absentmindedly replied. Your eyes were on the clock stuck to the wall counting down the minutes until her family arrived as you did your best to add the finishing details to the meal you had cooked together – meaning only you did the work while Wanda stood back and attempted not to puke at all the strong smells.

“So you want to eat my placentas?” Wanda asked with raised eyebrows. That made you turn to her with bewilderment-stricken features. Waltzing towards you, Wanda pressed her front against your back. Her chin rested on your shoulder with arms that quickly wrapped themselves around you. “What’s wrong, baby? You’re so tense.”

“I’m so scared to tell your parents,” you shuddered. “What if your mom thinks I’m no good for you? Or if your dad doesn’t want me seeing you any longer?”

“Sweetheart, we’re not high schoolers anymore. My dad walked me down the aisle on our wedding day and gave me off to you. I don’t think he’s going to try to get us divorced,” Wanda chuckled against your ear. “Besides, he’ll miss his bowling buddy. You know what happened the last time he tried replacing you with Pietro when we were on our honeymoon.”

The clear image of the picture Irina had sent you and Wanda of that night still made you laugh. Pietro had been smart enough to throw, not slide, the bowling ball hard enough that it went to another lane and proceeded to smash itself against the bar covering the pins. Oleg would never let his son live it down and reassured his son it was best to stick to his career as a football player than anything else, something which Pietro agreed with. They all loved you, you knew that much, and when you took Wanda’s last name, becoming a Maximoff yourself, you turned into one of the family.

“Don’t overwhelm yourself, my love,” she reassured you lovingly with a peck on the cheek. “They love you so much, and so do I. I bet they’ll be so excited to know we got two little peanuts on the way. Now, let me finish this up and go get ready. They’ll be here any second.

Surely enough as soon as you descended the stairs and made your way into the dining room, Wanda’s family already sat there. Your wife had been kind enough to put out the food she finished cooking. Waving at her parents and her brother, you attempted to dim down your anxious thoughts as you pulled out Wanda’s seat, allowed her to sit, and then did the same for your own.

Towards the beginning you were a frozen mess. You couldn’t stop thinking of the worst-case scenario. Rationality was thrown out the window as within your peripheral view you could take sight of the tiniest sign of Wanda’s bump showing. Gulping down the knot forming on your throat, you began bouncing your leg.

“So, what was so important that you just couldn’t tell us over the phone?” Pietro questioned as he immediately dug into his paprikash chicken. “You know, I had to miss practice just to travel down from the city. You better be pregnant or something.”

As soon as he finished speaking, you were chugging down a whole bunch of water. Rather than spit it all out, you swallowed with wide, fearful eyes, only sputtering out tiny drops as you hid your face away in embarrassment. Wanda did her best to keep her smile suppressed, but it was impossible to do so as your torture was her amusement.

“Actually…” she reached out for your clammy hand and squeezed it. “I am pregnant, twelve weeks!”

“Twelve? And you’re only telling us now?” Oleg sounded hurt, but it was nothing compared to Irina’s beam of excitement. If Pietro wouldn’t give her grandchildren, she trusted her daughter would. “You’re almost halfway there by now! How did this happen?”

At that your eyebrows were furrowed, but you decided to answer his bizarre question nonetheless. “Well, sir, when two people love each other they-”

Wanda wasted no time in slapping your arm hard enough to nearly make Pietro choke on his food out of the hilarity of it all. Her parents frowned, but all your wife did was flash them a smile as her hand dropped to your lap. The last thing she wanted was for you to dread having experienced such humiliation even more.

“Sorry, papa. Y/N and I really wanted to tell you, but I got scared. It’s so new to us and we wanted to make sure nothing would…happen.” Her voice was shaky, and you knew exactly what she referenced. It wasn’t the first time you had gotten the news of her pregnancy. Back then the two of you had been fresh out of high school, just two dumb kids going about life without precaution. Both were scared yet thrilled at the idea of having a child as you went to college, but that only lasted for a few months up until Wanda was awoken by a searing pain and a pool of blood gushing down her legs. It was the worst year of your shared lives, and from then on you made sure to not only protect her body, but also her mind and heart. “We wanted to be sure, that’s all.”

He wasn’t upset, but Wanda knew her father loved being involved in her life. They sat in silence for a second awaiting his reply only for Oleg to show off his excitement. He congratulated the two of you, making sure to run to the other side of the table to wrap his daughter up in a hug. Just as they had cherished you as a child, they’d do the same to the twins on the way.

The remainder of dinner went by smoothly, but just as you began relaxing, Wanda made you tense more. Her dominant hand moved around your lap until it eventually went to cup your soft penis through your pants. It rubbed you up and down, gripping only slightly as you let out a stifled grunt. And yet your wife was unfazed, smiling even as she used her free hand to take a sip of her water.

“Doesn’t that make you feel better?” Wanda allowed herself to lean onto you far enough so her whispers were unheard by the others. “All you need is some…released. If you behave for the rest of dinner,” her eyes looked down at your growing bulge where a small pool of wetness began forming through your briefs and slacks. Slapping you gently, she hummed. “Then maybe I’ll give you what you want. You can even take me from behind just how you like it, baby. I’ll be a good girl only if you are good as well. Remember that.”

You couldn’t stop counting down the minutes until Wanda’s family left, and as soon as they did, you were pleased with what she had to offer you. While insatiable, your wife loved putting your needs above her own. After all, getting on her knees and looking up at you as she pleased you was one of her favorite things.

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Around week 16, according to the calendar you set up on your cubicle at work, Wanda began showing even more. Her flat stomach was adorably swollen. Often she’d stare into the mirror and grimace at what she saw after stepping out of the shower, but you bore holes into her body with your insistent stares. Maybe she didn’t believe it, but the further into her pregnancy Wanda got, the more you lusted after her.

When she was at work and you were left to go into your shifts from home, thankful to be part of the IT department at a law firm, you took care of yourself. Your growing appetite for Wanda made it impossible for her to keep up with you, you mused. So instead you settled on doing what she did for you, although it never did feel the same.

Sitting with your back pressed against the headboard, you groaned. You had poured enough lubricant onto your cock to get it all nice and shiny before doing the same with a clear fleshlight. Wanda was an avid lover of it. She’d watch in awe, sometimes even move it herself, as your cock was enveloped by the sweet material. It was impossible for her to not grow incredibly wet at the sight.

“Fuck,” you mumbled into the nothingness of the room. Your laptop was open right on the bed with the program from work ready in case you needed to watch over it further. It didn’t faze you though. You still guided your thick, hard cock to one of the openings of the fleshlight and lined yourself up perfectly.

The warmth that enveloped your dick was nowhere near as delicious as it was when Wanda was around, but it would have to do. You took your time with her, but not when you were alone. Rather than care about how much pain you exerted on the toy, as you’d do with your wife, you let yourself go.

Animalistic thrusts came about as you focused solely on jacking off. It felt so good to be rough and uncarity. With one hand you held the fleshlight in place while the other went down to carefully massage your balls, prodding them with adoration as you imagined it was Wanda touching you.

Fucking the fleshlight, you longed for it to be Wanda’s pussy. She was always so drenched and ready for you, making it easier to slip inside without any issues. Getting her pregnant was just the tip of the iceberg. It was what made all of your desires spill out of Pandora’s Box. Every single sick, perverted thought you had, you humored. And knowing your partner, you knew she’d happily indulge you without a question asked.

Deciding to tease your wife, you reached out for your phone. The camera was pointed at the toy where your dick disappeared into, and as you got it on video, you smiled. Wanda loved nothing more than to watch you masturbate. At times she simply sat back to look at how you made yourself come undone. You’d be desperate yet confident in your thrust as she knew you pretended to be fucking her.

“Fuck, baby. I miss your pussy,” you let out a guttural moan from Wanda to enjoy. The wet, sloshing sound of the fleshlight being masterfully fucked was all she’d hear. “This is how I’m fucking you as soon as you get home. I bet your pussy’s gonna be so wet and ready for me. ‘M gonna get you to beg for this cock, slut.”

For the past few weeks the two of you further explored Wanda’s insistent desire to be degraded. Not only did she want such vile words to be spewed her way, but also to be treated as though she was nothing more than a toy for your amusement. You could claim her whenever you saw fit. While you loved the idea, it would take a lot more coaxing from her part to make it happen.

Sending off the short video, you kept up the slapping sounds even when you got the receipt that Wanda saw it. You could already imagine how she’d excuse herself from her cubicle and run off to the bathroom in a haze. Her mind always felt too cloudy when she was turned on, and once she came it all turned blank.

In only a matter of minutes, you received back an image of her wetness through her panties with a caption reading “for you, my favorite perv.” Two could play that game, you thought after having saved the image – Wanda knew full well you stared at the little folder of herself that you had in the depths of your phone. You each sent the other numerous pictures and videos, with Wanda showing you exactly how drenched she was at the thought of you, and how heavy her breasts appeared. It was the sight of that alongside her swollen tummy that made you cum all over your own stomach, her name coming out choked from your lips.

“Can’t wait to see what you have planned for me at home,” Wanda texted as she saw the image of the cumshot you sent her. “I’ll be ready for you, Y/N.”

And as much as you hated to admit it, a sole text like that made you fully hard once more.

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“Baby, I’m hungry!”

You mused that was your Bat-signal as it made you instantly rush to Wanda’s side. For the past few weeks after her ultrasound, where she was able to receive a much clear picture of the twin babies growing inside of her, she’d been rather…glued to the couch. Her feet were sore along with her back, and although Pietro constantly wondered why his sister refused to visit him in the city with a huff, you couldn’t imagine the amount of discomfort she felt with not one, but two lives forming within her.

“What do you wanna eat for lunch, pretty girl?” You asked as you took a seat next to the couch that you might as well call Wanda’s. She lay watching yet yet another rerun of Superstore, giggling away as she remembered the time the two of you shared as teenagers working at a rather large chain retail store. “I can make you some mac & cheese or even order a pizza and-”

“I’m really hungry,” Wanda interjected, nudging you a bit with her leg. “Burger-type of hungry…with fries.”

“I’ll go get you a burger right now then. Anything else you’d like since I’ll be out?”

Wanda gave it some thought, and after enough time she settled for texting you a list of things to pick up from the grocery store. Lazy weekends were her favorite. During the week she attempted to keep busy by doing yoga in the morning or pulling you out of bed to run across the neighborhood, shower, then go to work. Your wife said she wished to be active, but deep down you knew it had something to do with her changing appearance. No longer was she as slim as she used to be with the bigger her bump grew. While she found problems with that, each day you reassured Wanda without fail that her beauty never left.

Knowing Wanda’s appetite would only evolve for the worst. You ran across the grocery store and zoomed by her favorite fast food restaurant to pick up her food, getting something for yourself as well as you knew your own hunger would give you a headache. Each time you went out without her, you felt a newfound fear stirring the pot. Surely she’d be safe and fine, and yet you couldn’t help but think kf the worst. What if the twins didn’t make it? Or Wanda at that? You wouldn’t know how to properly function if either were to happen.

You had already lost a little peanut once. Although she hid it well, you were fully aware of the ultrasound picture Wanda hid underneath the pillow on her side of the bed. The back of it had excited scribbles from the both of you. Back then life was anything but great, and yet that surprise had made you realize it was worth living it together. She carried that picture everywhere, even to work, but once she received the news, Wanda didn’t dare let it leave the safety of her home.

The torturous image of Wanda shaking you awake desperately, tears in her bloodshot eyes that cascaded down furious cheeks, covered in blood still haunted you at night. She let out incoherent babbles then as you turned on the light and took sight of the mess on the bed. The pain she felt had been constant for days along with the bleeding, but it never got as intense as it did on that cruel night of May 14. You ran with Wanda to the hospital, her hands clutching a small bunny your friend Peter had given you when he found out about the pregnancy. Neither of you were the same after that, nor did you care to be.

Clutching your steering wheel, you blinked rapidly. The flashbacks hit like a brick as you made your way back home. You could already feel your chest beginning to tighten, and while uncaring about any traffic laws, you sped towards Wanda.

Upon arriving at the house, you hastily gathered all the bags before running to the door. They were thrown over the floor, alerting a rather groggy Wanda who had fallen asleep on the couch. She sat up slightly with half-open eyes and furrowed eyebrows wondering why you rushed to her, but as soon as she noticed the tears in your eyes, she was on alert.

“Baby? Oh honey what happened?” Wanda was taken aback when she sat up at the edge of the couch only for you to kneel before her. She simply lay a hand atop your head, tilting her own as you hugged her tightly with your face buried against her belly. “Hey, you’re alright, Y/N. I’m right here.” You barely nodded, something that made her smile sadly because at least you could understand her. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I need them to make it,” you choked out with your forehead pressed with Wanda’s bump. “I…I need it to happen.”

That only confused Wanda even more. “Who needs to make it?” But realization dawned upon her instantly. “Wh- oh.”

Your shaky hands took hold of her stomach that you pressed countless kisses against. “I miss our little girl — our Magnolia.”

By the time she was gone, neither of you picked a name until it was too late. It was Wanda who settled on it while remembering through tears that when you were children, that was the first ever flower you gave her. Each year on the anniversary, on what would’ve been her birthday, you made sure to give your wife another one. Those were the ones she wore on her head on your wedding day. Whether physically or not, your forever little peanut would always be there with you.

“I miss her too,” Wanda admitted solemnly. She always wanted a little girl, someone who mirrored her in every way. You and her would lay watching the sunset imagining how your futures would turn out. Wanda was rather excited about the concept of braiding the girl’s hair for her first day of school that you’d drive her to together, but it never came. “But our boys are healthy, they’ll make it. T-they be safe, honey. They have to be.”

As teary-eyed as you were, you couldn’t help but stop to question her. “Our…boys?”

“Don’t be mad. Agatha called a few days ago and I told her you’d want it to be a surprise, but that I couldn’t wait. I’ve been eyeing some things for them too,” Wanda shrugged. She leaned down far enough to be able to place a kiss on your forehead before cupping your face. “We’re having twin boys.”

“That’s amazing!” You exasperated with sudden joy. Your hands went to touch her stomach, overzealous at the idea of having boys, but then again, you never did hope for one or the other. As you rubbed your hands all over her clothes skin, that is when you first felt it. “Was that…a kick?”

Wanda was unfazed as she had felt it before during her previous attempt, but still giggled. “I think the little buggers can tell mama is hungry and so are they. As much as I’d love to sit here and have a heart-to-heart with you, baby, I really am starving over here.”

You went to give Wanda her food, and while the two of you sat on the couch eating your lunch, you realized once more how lucky you were to have her by your side until death do you apart.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Early during Wanda’s third trimester, you were even more in need of her; it surely didn’t help that she got bigger and liquid sprouted from her breasts. You didn’t say much, instead opting to remain quiet and keep your perversions to yourself out of fear of being judged. Your wife was fairly open to whatever you wished to explore, but you doubted she’d be keen to the idea of you suckling from her tender nipples.

From afar you watch her fall into the pits of pain. At times she’d beg you to help her gently massage herself, throwing her head back in relief as the harshness of the built-up milt in her tits was gone. Each time they grew heavy, you were to offer helping hands and allow your partner to feel better. Only your guilt and shame grew during those moments. You stared in depth at the mounts, watching in awe as liquid traveled down their bulkiness before Wanda went to clean herself up. Agatha reassured the two of you that it was normal, but that didn’t deter her suffering during those moments.

“Between the kicking and the soreness, I don’t think I can make it,” Wanda hissed on a particular day where her breasts made it impossible for her to carry on. She had come back from work complaining about the pain she was in, instantly laying across the couch rubbing her hands against her stomach. “You know I love my boys, I really do, but I’m pretty sure at this point Tommy will be a football player just like his uncle,” her face scrunched up momentarily as she clutched her bump. “And Billy thinks he can kick his way out of this earlier than he’s supposed to.”

“Is there anything I can do?” You felt for her, you really did. The sole image of her facing such horrors made you shudder. You couldn’t imagine having to experience that, so as you set a hand atop Wanda’s swollen tummy, you hoped the twins would settle down for once. “I can get your heating pad or maybe make you some comfort food? Anything I should go out to get you?”

“Just stay with me, please,” Wanda cried as she put her hand above yours. “I don’t even want to imagine how horrible it’ll be when I popped these little shits out.” As soon as she spit out the words, a kick came. “Fuck, sorry boys. You’re not little shits,” she went to mumble under her breath. “Sometimes.”

“Just a few more months, honey. You’re more than halfway there,” you cooed at her. Leaning in, you pulled her shirt only slightly to be able to press your lips upon her skin. “Our peanuts will be here soon. Our Billy and our Tommy.”

“You’re lucky we’re having twins, otherwise I wouldn’t have let you name our kid Billy,” Wanda grumbled with feigned annoyance. It quickly turned into a moan as she arched her back and her hands shot up to her chest that almost throbbed. “Fuck, I’m full. I need them to get out and help me out because otherwise I’m going to start t-”

“What if I help you?”

Wanda frowned at that, wondering what else you could provide other than the glorious massages you were so kind to give her. “Honey, you’ve already helped me enough. There’s nothing you can do unless you’re willing to suck all the milk out of me.”

She meant it as a joke, but the words made your throat dry up. You couldn’t help the burning sensation that settled at your cheeks. A shrug came out before your voice was found. “Maybe…maybe I can? If you’re alright with it,” you choked out while refusing to look at Wanda. “It’s embarrassing, but that’s all I’ve been thinking about as of late. God, Wanda, you’re so fucking gorgeous that I…I can’t contain myself.”

“You’ve gotten off to the thought.”

At the confidence in her words you turned to her ready to form a lie. “I, uhm, haven’t.”

“No, no. That wasn’t a question, honey.” A dry laughter came out, one that allowed you to properly relax as you were consumed by anxious imagery. “I know you do. Honestly? I’ve been dying for you to finally come clean. It was about time, darling. Mommy doesn’t like when you make her wait.”

“Mo- what?” you frowned, confused as to whether or not she found it to be humorous. “You’re not creeped out?”

“Of course not. You’re just a little baby that wants mommy’s milk, huh? A hungry angel,” her voice was sweet and serene. You easily got lost in the devotion you had for her. “Come here, Y/N. I know you’ve been dying to try. So be a good pup and help mommy feel good.”

With shaky hands, you helped Wanda shed her shirt. The knot at your throat wasn’t easily dissuaded, especially not when she stared at you with amused eyes. She guided you on top of her, carefully getting you to lay on your side so you wouldn’t harm her stomach. With lips merely grazing at one of the swollen nipples, you licked your lips and looked up in question at the woman before she nodded your way.

As soon as you latched onto her, your mind went blank. Lips tenderly suckled at the rosy bud before white liquid began descending into your mouth. Your tongue welcomed it, tasting every slight drop as you grunted with need. Wanda tasted amazing in every way imaginable and you simply were unable to get enough of her.

“There’s a good pet,” Wanda tried, but she couldn’t churn away her own arousal. Her arms were wrapped around you the same way yours embraced her. On her thigh she already felt a tent, growing by the second, poking at her with desperation. “Keep going, baby. You’re already making me feel so good.”

Her hand drifted down to the area between your legs with fake innocence, and yet you couldn’t muster any case for it. Instead, you nuzzled your face against Wanda’s breasts still continuing to suck on one. The other, out of fear of leaving it unattended, was massaged. Your thumb swirled around it, making faint drops of milk spew out that you brushed with your finger before bringing it to your mouth.

Kneading her one of her tits made her moan, but you were the one to do so louder as Wanda slipped into your pants. “Help me,” you begged as digits trailed their way along your thick hardened shaft before finding the wetness your pre-cum left. “Please, m-mommy. I need it so bad.”

“Yeah? Oh honey, your dick is all hard and sticky,” Wanda pouted as she jerked you off momentarily. She pressed her lips against your forehead, planting butterfly kisses there as she made quick work to tease your already-throbbing member that you humped against her. “Be a good puppy and drink up all of mommy’s milk. Then maybe we can talk about me milking you instead.”

For the remainder of the night, you didn’t hesitate to do exactly what she said. It ended up being a rather fruitful evening, leaving you full of Wanda’s essence as well as with a fussy mind that was hazy as you came all over the palm of her hand. You felt limp against Wanda, milk drooling out of your lips as she hugged you tightly.

“Such a good little one for mommy,” she whispered to your exhausted body with the utmost love residing in her soul. “My perfect baby.”

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

The insatiable nature Wanda had was not easily dissuaded no matter how close she got to giving birth until Agatha put a halt to it. She urged the two of you to be careful and cease any of your typically fun workouts with each other until weeks after the birth of the twins. Although it left your wife pouting all the way to the car knowing she’d need to stop at the very least a few weeks before giving birth, given she carried not one but two lives inside of her, you were the one which upheld the advice given to you by the doctor.

But alas, that didn’t stop either of you from humoring Wanda’s increased sex drive for whatever time you could.

“I want it to be special,” Wanda had told you late one night as she lay exhausted beside you with her head in the clouds. “Let’s make it a night we won’t forget.”

Keeping in mind her words which resonated with you, you made sure to do exactly what your wife wished. Previous talks about several different fantasies came to you, but only one stood out. Surely she’d look ravishing with a schoolgirl outfit being bent over the desk as you spanked her with a meter stick, but you didn’t think it would be safe enough for the moment. From all the possible choices there could only be one that you knew she’d enjoy while remaining unharmed.

Wanda had stared at you incredulously when she first stepped into the room, but as she quickly went to do as you told her, to get on her hands and knees on the bed, the thrill came to her. She hadn’t noticed the camera pointing at the bed until a few minutes passed of you undressing yourself. When you happened upon her suddenly wide smile, your eyebrows were raised.

“So, what do you think?” You questioned knowing what the answer would be already. After days of online shopping, you had finally settled on a beautiful gift to commemorate what Wanda deemed as the last official night of lovemaking before the twins were born. Walking around the bed, you stood before your partner showing off the item in your hands. “I got this for you to wear. I thought it would be fitting.”

“It’s beautiful,” Wanda mumbled, emerald orbs gawking at the pink collar that resided in your hands. She was particularly intrigued by the heart-shaped tag that hung from it with the words ‘pretty girl’ bestowed on it.

“Just like you,” you replied cheekily. Nodding her way, you brought the collar close to the woman. “May I?”

The redhead shuddered at the unfamiliarity of the faux leather around her throat. She giggled happily, looking down as you locked the collar that sat comfortably on her body. It was the perfect fit, and you knew then it would be hard to get it off Wanda without even a smidge of protest.

As the two of you settled into the scene, your bodies relaxed and melted against one another. You couldn’t help but laugh as each second Wanda attempted to steal a quick glance at the area between your legs – already painfully hard and oozing with pre-cum. Your tip slapped accidentally against her legs as you settled behind her, the camera already turned on and began to take video of what was happening.

“Such a pretty girl,” you repeated the words from her collar as your hands came down upon Wanda’s ass, squeezing tightly until your handprints were left behind. “And a fucking slut.”

Each time you dared spew such degrading words, Wanda’s chest would become filled with exhilaration. Not only were her features reddened with her immense arousal, but her pussy appeared flushed with puffiness and slickness. It was impossible to keep yourself from running your fingers through such wetness, much less to prevent yourself from grabbing your erect cock and rubbing its bulging head to part the folds of her slit.

Her guttural moans were low as they banged against the four walls of the bedroom. Already having been cleared for maternity leave, the woman found herself to be both bored and in desperate need of you at all times. Even the slightest touches, a brush of your dick upon her cunt, made her squirm before begging to have you inside – and that is exactly what you gave her.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” you grunted as you eased into Wanda. She was far too wet to cause any difficulty, instead leading you to be enveloped around her gentle warmth. “I bet you like it when I stick my cock in you, huh? You’re nothing but a mindless bitch for my dick. So fucking needy and obsessed.”

“I love it,” Wanda groaned while nuzzling her face against the bed sheets. “I love your cock so fucking much.”

“Yeah?” You tried your best not to let yourself get carried away, but it was impossible when Wanda’s pussy gripped you with such firmness. Suddenly you couldn’t contain your urges as you gripped her hips to begin fucking her with hard thrusts. “It’s like your pussy was only meant to take me. Oh baby you’re fucking dripping like a needy slut in heat. It’s so adorable.”

Wanda’s pleasure wasn’t deterred by the way in which you treated her almost like an object. She knew she was nothing other than a fleshlight of yours to have, and she loved every second of it. You spent the majority of your days constantly praising your wife, but at times she needed to be reminded of her place within scenes. No longer did she care for control, but instead found solace within the warm embrace of forceful submission and objectification.

Your cock was hugged warmly by her inner walls that were stretched out with each time you pounded her. Wanda was forced to stare directly into the camera, her hair pulled as you made her show off her new beautiful collar. Her stomach was swollen, and at times a hand drifted down to cup it before making its way to her sensitive breasts whose nipples perked up when you grazed. The alabaster skin was set aflame and you were the culprit, but your eyes solely remained upon her cunt where your dick disappeared into, hitting Wanda’s sweetest spot and making her scream.

“F-fuck,” your wife stuttered out through gritted teeth. “Oh baby…baby! I’m so close.”

“Then cum, you naughty whore,” you huffed. The sounds of your skins slapping together made for a glorious orchestra. Knowing you were close as well, you gripped Wanda’s waist, humming as you were ready to let go. “Show the camera how much of a cock-addicted bitch you are, Mrs. Maximoff.”

When she came, so did you. Your bodies were synched up and connected as one. The growing arousal one felt carried on to another, and you failed to see how you’d ever let go of such a lustful heat. Wanda squirted, her juices overflowing all over her inner thighs, your twitching cock, and the sheets. Meanwhile her insides were tainted by white drops that stuffed her pussy full of cum, some even leaking out adorably.

Neither of you could move, at least not until you found enough energy to gently slide yourself out of your partner. Her cunt released your dick with a sloshing sound which made you arche in even more need. Gulping down, you teasingly slapped a hand over Wanda’s ass, who turned to sit facing you with her reddened face.

“What a mess,” Wanda giggled as she eyed your throbbing member bouncing excitedly calling for her cunt which oozed out a mix of cum and juices. “Hm, don’t you want me to clean that up, sweetheart? With my mouth?”

Grabbing your still hard cock, you bit down on your bottom lip. “Then get on your knees, pretty girl. And get to sucking.”

For the camera, mostly for you, Wanda put in the utmost amount of effort into entertainment. You sat at the edge of the bed with her kneeled in front of you. The tip of your dick pressed against her cheeks inside her mouth, bulging them up for the camera to see. There was no time wasted as her head bobbed up and down, taking in countless inches of you while you very lovingly guided her through it.

“Such a cute cock sucker,” you couldn’t help but say, all for Wanda to look up with wide, doe eyes before gargling all over your length. “That’s it, baby. I want you to swallow every single drop like the good girl I know you are. Hm, can’t wait until I can fill that pretty pussy of yours with even more pups knowing how needy you get for my dick…”

And by the gods did Wanda deliver.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

When the twins came, all of your anxieties came crashing down into a mixture of a breakdown and hyperventilation. It was night when Wanda’s contractions felt worse, leading the woman to wake you up with a wail as she clutched her stomach painfully. You feared seeing blood between her legs again, but were relieved to find other fluids lying there before rushing to lead her out of the house, go-bag in hand with other necessary trinkets.

Hours passed before any news came. You were to sit by Wanda’s side at every second, holding her hand and remaining uncaring about how much she squeezed it from pain. The twins wanted to get out, you knew, but refused to do so quickly enough. It left your wife in a state of frenzy, her face continuously scrunched up as she begged you, not the nurses, to get the babies out of you – at times even threatening to divorce you if you failed to complete the task.

“These little shi-”

“Wanda,” you calmly interjected. “You know, they’re coming out soon. Imagine the first words you tell our children being those. That’ll do something to their self-esteem, don’t you think?”

The snide look Wanda threw your way was synonymous with that of murder. “Really? Because I doubt they’ll remember the time they almost killed their mom giving her so much- fuck! So much pain,” she hissed. Her teeth gritted against one another, and as she saw a nurse coming to check on her, the redhead scared her off with flaring nostrils. “But I sure as well am remembering this. I can’t wait until they get old enough for me to blackmail them for doing this to me.”

“Well, they didn’t exactly choose to be born,” you mused hoping it would diffuse her anger only for it to be made worse.”

“You…” Wanda paused, eyebrows furrowing as she gave her words some thought. She turned to you, but you refused to even look her in the eye before shriveling up to her mighty hand. “You did this to me. You put not one, but two fucking babies inside of me! Oh Y/N, I’m about to fucking kill y-”

Her words died in her lips as the doctor rushed in. She did more to soothe your wife’s fears, something you were thankful for as being at the receiving end of her rage, even if heightened by her situation, was never taken with positivity. They prepared her to finally push, and that was the moment your eyes flashed before your eyes. Time stood still as the realization panged at your heart. I’m going to be a parent again. My twins, our Billy and our Tommy, they’re coming…

The process by no means was easy to watch, but your empathy was with Wanda who was the one needing to go through all the hard work. Even when covered in sweat and yelling out profanities in the midst of her pain, your wife was forever defined by her beauty. You leaned down to praise her, to remind her of the brave warrior she was for carrying two lives in her at once. There was no one stronger than your partner and you needed her to remember.

Cries of the first baby came out, and you immediately knew that it was your Tommy who went out faster than the speed of light. You shied away from seeing him in the first few seconds, but as soon as you could see the doctor holding up a small, frail child, your eyes widened with love. Tears formed in your eyes, and while they carried on to get Billy out, you were solely focused on the little one that you realized was the picture-perfect image of you as an infant.

Complications ensued in getting Billy out as copious amounts of blood were left in the first twins’ wake. You wondered what went on, but as soon as the doctor mentioned the need for a Cesarean section, your face went pale. Holding down bouts of fear, you faced Wanda, but she was far too high by her torture to care. So as soon as they brought out the necessary instruments to get the second child out, you shuddered.

“It’s okay,” you promised Wanda even as she was put to sleep. The hold on your hand loosened, but you never let go of hers. “It’s okay, honey. Billy’s going to get to meet his mama soon just like Tommy.” You so wanted to believe that, but a small part of you feared for the worst. “You’re going to be okay, Wanda. You both will.”

Nothing could ever prepare you for seeing your wife cut open, but as soon as you noticed a small infant being pulled out, you beamed. The cries let you become aware of his healthy state as a nurse grabbed Billy to give him the same exact treatment. He was checked out before you requested to hold him, all while watching over Tommy. Those were your boys. Not identical, but each one of them mirroring either you or Wanda.

Hours passed before your wife was awakened, and as soon as her eyes fluttered open, she ignored the pain on her lower abdomen from the fresh set of stitches. Instead she scanned the room carefully, humming as her panic died out upon the sight of you still by her side.

“Are they safe?” Wanda groggily questioned, suddenly afraid of what the answer would be. But as soon as you nodded, the exhausted ends of her mouth rose. “Thank you, Y/N. I…I am in so much fucking pain right now, but I’m glad I got you by my side, sweetie.”

“I’m the one that should be thankful for you. I mean, you just gave birth to two kids. I can’t ever imagine going through that,” you replied. “The nurse said that they’ll bring the twins up in a few hours. Billy, uh, looks a lot like a mini-Wanda I have to say. He’s got your nose scrunches and everything down.”

“Really? Oh I can’t wait to see them.” Wanda squeezed your hand once more, but this time you could feel all the love she had for you with a simple electrifying touch. “I wish we got to meet her too.”

At that you merely hummed, but she knew how much you longed for that to have been a reality.

When the time came for you and Wanda to see the twins in a much cleaner, sleepy state, both of you were overcome with joy. She had trouble moving with her fresh wound, so the nurse carefully placed Tommy on her chest while you received a yawning Billy. No words needed to be spoken at that moment. The love you had for your children, even if new, wouldn’t ever die out. They were your lives, and as you shared a knowing look, you both came to be on the same page – nothing would dare intervene with them so long as you were alive.

#cthulhus’ fanfics #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wlw smut #wlw fanfic

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secret-moonstruck · 11 days ago

Text

STUCK ON ME | Y.JW | PART 2

— Pairing: Jungwon x fem!reader | Part 01 | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: When Y/N was with her friend, Jungwon became jealous and possessive. He decided to show who Y/N belonged to. .

— Genre: smut, Horror, bloody

— Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, praising, cum inside, making out, clit play, begging, hickeys, cum eating, overstimulation, gore, death, blood, torture, kidnapping, more. .

Warning: The content may be dangerous. Read at your own discretion.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories.

A few weeks have passed since Y/N met Jungwon, at first it was a bit difficult, but now she was getting used to the situation.

She had gone out for drinks with some people from the publishing house to celebrate the sales of her book, among them was Hyun, he was the cute guy who worked there and he always showed interest in Y/N, whenever she went to the publishing house he tried to please her.

When they left the bar, they decided to walk a bit. He was a little drunk and started confessing to Y/N again.

- Why don't you go out with me? - He said, stopping suddenly and turning her towards him.

Before Y/N could say anything, he disappeared. She saw him a short distance away in the alley next door, pinned against the wall with a furious Jungwon choking him.

- What the hell is this? What the hell are you doing? - She ran towards them. - Let him go now, Jungwon.

She ordered, she knew he couldn't disobey an order from her, she had already witnessed how it caused some kind of horrible pain.

However, he didn't let him go; he suffocated him until his body fell to the ground unconscious.

Y/N thought he had killed him, and out of fear, she ended up fainting.

Upon waking up, she still felt a bit dazed, looked around, and saw that she was in some kind of abandoned warehouse. She saw Jungwon sitting on a table reading a book calmly, but when he lowered the book and smiled at her, his face and clothes were covered in blood.

She looked around desperately and saw Hyun unconscious, bloodied, and tied up in a corner of the room.

- Did you kill him? - She asked in despair.

Jungwon rolled his eyes before putting down the book and getting off the table.

- Not yet, my dear. Maybe, if you are very nice, I'll let him live.

He approached Hyun and kicked him to wake him up.

- Where is Y/N? Please, let us go. - Hyun said as soon as he woke up, further irritating Jungwon.

- Who or what do you think you are to try to steal something that is mine? - He lifted him up before throwing him back to the ground.

- Please stop. He is innocent, he didn't do anything. I am yours, okay, you know, you always remind me of that. He has nothing to do with us, let him go. - Y/N pleaded.

A horrible pain coursed through Jungwon's entire body for disobeying her, but it only enraged him even more; she was causing him pain to protect that worm.

Jungwon approached her, lowering himself to her level with a smile that frightened her.

- I know you are mine, but it seems he doesn't know yet, and you seem to have forgotten. - He squeezed her neck, making her stand up. - Maybe I should remind you who you belong to, and show this nothing that you only have one owner.

Still with his hands on her neck, he pulled her face for a kiss full of anger.

- Now, how about you being a good girl? - He pushed her away, and as if it were nothing, dragged the table to where she was.

- Don't touch her, or I'll kill you. - Hyun shouted.

Jungwon went up to him and gagged him, he wanted to kill him, but not before displaying her, not before showing who she belongs to.

Leaning against the table, he ordered her to come closer, she obeyed out of fear.

- Suck me, like the good slut you are, show him what he'll never have.

Trembling, Y/N did as he commanded, kneeling in front of him. She tried to open his pants, but she was trembling too much. He got irritated and took off his clothes by himself, his cock already hard, waiting to be sucked.

Y/N looked at Hyun, who was struggling to break free, before turning their attention back to Jungwon.

With tears in her eyes, she touched him, pumping it before running her tongue over the tip covered with pre-cum, eliciting a moan from him. She licked his length a few times before putting it in her mouth, starting to suck it, but he needed more, he pushed everything in, making her gag.

Jungwon held her by the hair while pushing deep into her throat. The sight of her crying, choking on his cock, excited him even more; he pulled out of her lips and came all over her face.

- Come here dear. - He said, helping her to stand up and bringing her closer to Hyun. He pushed her in front of him, holding her face firmly to confront Hyun.

- Isn't she beautiful covered in my cum? - He smiled frighteningly as he said that.

- Do you know how she becomes more beautiful? When she's moaning desperately for me to fuck her. - Upon saying this, he bit Y/N's neck.

Y/N shuddered at the initial pain of the bite, but soon it was exactly as he wanted, moans escaping her lips mixed with her heavy breathing. Her legs tightening as she began to feel aroused.

Hyun looked horrified as Jungwon drank Y/N's blood. Jungwon easily tore her dress, and did the same with her underwear, before running his fingers over Y/N's pussy.

- You really are a slut, how can you already be so wet? You really get turned on by having your blood sucked, don't you?

Desperate moans escaped Y/N's lips as Jungwon's fingers worked on her pussy. She no longer cared about anything else, she just wanted more.

- Yes, yes, please, Jungwon, I love this, more, please.

Despite being scared, Hyun was starting to get excited seeing Y/N in that state. It was wrong, everything there was wrong, but he couldn't help it.

- Look Y/N, he likes what he sees. - Jungwon continued his movements while rubbing her clitoris with his other hand. - Come on, darling, cum for me already, let's go.

She shuddered, Jungwon's voice both sweet and venomous pushing her to orgasm, she came on his fingers, just as he wanted.

He raised his hand, displaying it with a smile before licking his fingers, while moaning in pleasure.

Y/N knew it wasn't over yet, Jungwon picked her up, she was still trembling when he set her down on the table.

He saw her tired face, her eyes red from crying. He wiped her face, which was still covered in his cum.

- You don't know how beautiful you look like this, all messed up. - He said, caressing her face. His fingers running over her face and neck. - It just makes me want you even more.

He said before biting her again, while pushing his painful cock into her wet pussy.

Y/N gasped in surprise when she felt him enter her so suddenly. If it weren't for him holding her, she would have already collapsed on the table while he mercilessly pounded inside her, the sound echoing through the room.

- J... Jungwon, please! I want, I need. - Y/N was begging for their liberation.

Hearing Y/N's pleas, Jungwon couldn't hold back and came, painting the inside of Y/N, who not long after also reached their orgasm.

Jungwon pulled away from Y/N, watched for a few seconds as her pussy leaked before starting to lick it, holding her thighs firmly. While sucking every drop, his claws tore into Y/N's thighs, who screamed with a mix of pain and pleasure, still very sensitive from the previous orgasm. She buckled, trembling, when she came again, this time more intensely than the others, covering Jungwon's face, who savored every drop before releasing her with an arrogant smile, while Y/N collapsed on the table, her breath still uneven.

She had already forgotten about Hyun, but when she remembered and looked in his direction, her eyes widened in panic.

Jungwon, already dressed, was holding Hyun by the neck with his hand inside his chest.

- No! - Y/N shouted, a desperate scream, a scream that caused an unbearable pain in Jungwon, he had already endured too much pain disobeying her that night.

With a quick movement, Jungwon pulled his hand back, covered in blood, with Hyun's heart in it. Blood splattering across his face, while the most terrifying smile Y/N could imagine was on his face.

He threw Hyun's body to the ground and went to Y/N. The pain of disobedience was torturous, but the anger was greater.

- This is so you never forget that you belong solely to me. - He held her by the shoulders. - And remember that I will never allow you to get close to any man again. I am the only one for whom you should exist. You are mine, and you must never forget that.

The panic that was etched on Y/N's face was replaced by a dark smile, which left Jungwon confused.

- What? Why are you smiling? - He said, releasing her.

Y/N pulled Jungwon close, tilting their head while still smiling.

- You look so sexy like this. - She pushed him away while assessing how he was covered in blood, eyes shining, his expression full of rage. She loved it.

- Y/N said while getting dressed. - Just thinking about having to put up with him every time I entered that building. Aaaah, so annoying.

Jungwon was confused, why was she acting like this when just a moment ago she was crying for him to spare Hyun?

- You know, Jungwon, I was kind of missing the feeling from when we first met, how you seemed so cruel that night. I wanted to see that side of you again, so I decided to combine two useful things. I could have fun and also get rid of something annoying.

- You are a psychopath. - Jungwon didn't know if he found her scary or amazing.

- Oh, no, of course not. I'm just a defenseless woman trapped by a sadistic vampire. - She said with a false fear on her face before approaching him with a smile and kissing him.

— Note2: Sorry if it's not good, I'll try to improve it.

#smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #kpop #kpop fanfic #enhypen imagines #jungwon #jungwon smut #jungwon x reader #jungwon imagine #vampire #vampire jungwon

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artemismoorea03 · 1 year ago

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DPxDC Prompt: Damian's Friend

I feel like this has been done before so if it has please let me know!

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Damian is still learning to make friends. Sure, he has Superboy but according to his brothers and teachers he needed more friends. But why should he bother with new friends when one was already such a pain to keep up with? Social cues were hard to understand, jokes didn't make sense, and most civilians were far too squishy. He could end up hurting them accidentally and that would endanger his secret identity.

Though he quickly learned that meeting people as Robin made it considerably easier. That's how he ended up meeting Phantom, a 15-Year-Old boy who seemed rather lost. His only explanation for why he was in Gotham had been, "Listen, my mentor told me to come here and to stick with the birds and the bats. I don't know what that is or why I'm here but considering I don't seem to be able to go home yet I can only assume that I haven't found what I was looking for yet."

Phantom was strange, even for a meta. He didn't know what Gotham was, who Superman or Batman were, he had never heard of the Justice League, or even heard of 'metas' until Robin explained it to him. The kid seemed honest and he was staying out of the way of patrols and stuff which was more than most meta's did.

The only time he interfered with any fight was when Robin was cornered in a fight. In theory Robin would have been able to handle it but in the moment he had - admittedly - been a little in over his head. Phantom showed up and not only got Robin to safety but had managed to take down all of the enemies without killing anybody.

From that moment on Robin considered Phantom a friend and had given Phantom the number to one of the burner phones he kept on him during patrols. Phantom never called but would answer any time Robin checked in.

Which came in handy one day when the entirety of the team got trapped when a building came down, including one very frightened Superboy. The team was arguing loudly among themselves as they tried to figure out how to get out while Batman sat to one side with a headwound.

None of them were in good shape.

They were running out of air.

And the team were fighting and wasting even more air.

"We need more help." Nightwing said, "But I don't think Superman could hear us from here and nobody else in the city will be able to reach us before we run out of air."

"I could call my friend." Robin suggested, leaning against the wall.

"Uh..." Everybody looked at Superboy then each other.

"Your what?" Red Hood questioned.

"Is he saying friends?" Whispered Signal.

"Did you hit your head?" Spoiler asked, walking over as Robin stepped away from her.

"No, this is delirium. The air is too thin in here for him." Red Robin said.

"Robin, all your friends are right here." Superboy said.

Robin scoffed. "I have other friends. You guys told me I needed more friends, so I made friends. It was a task which I completed." He said, pulling out his phone as he silently muttered a 'please work' under his breath.

"Aw! I'm so proud of you!" Nightwing doted as Robin rolled his eyes and hit the call button.

"Yo, Robin, you see the collapse?" Phantom's voice said, sounding weirdly echoed on the line, not that it was unusual for Phantom's voice to do such a thing on calls.

"Bigger problems. I was inside the building during the collapse. Batman is down. Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan, Signal, Spoiler, and Superboy are all in here with me. We need exfil."

"Oh shit, on my way. I can get all of you out at once but you guys will have to forget what personal space is for a minute." Phantom said as Robin ignored the looks from the others.

"Whatever it takes, but hurry we're running out of air."

"What floor are you on?"

"Basement."

"Got it, I'll be there in just a second." The call turned to static for a moment before Phantom phased through the ceiling and looked at them. "Wow, a party." Phantom said, ending the call and slipping the phone into a bag on his back.

"No time, get us out of here." Robin pushed.

Phantom nodded, "You and you put Batman between you." He ordered Nightwing and Red Hood who after a moment did as they were told, supporting Batman between them. "Now use your free hands and hug me. The rest of you guys hug them and no matter what do not let go of each other or me. If you do you'll die."

"Great, trust the weird glowing kid not to drop us and kill us or die here. This will only go well." Red Hood growled but didn't question it further as they all held onto Phantom.

Robin could feel the ground vanish from under them as they flew upwards through the building and then out into open air. Phantom then took then a safe distance from the building near where the police were and made sure they were all on the ground before he stopped flying.

"There you go. Thanks for riding Phantom-Air." Phantom said, sounding exhausted as he leaned against Robin who frowned up at the taller teen.

"You okay?"

"All good. Been a minute. You guys get checked out. See you around Robin." Phantom said, then flew away as Superboy grabbed Robin's arm.

"Are we going to talk about the fact that your new friend doesn't have a heartbeat?" He said anxiously.

"He... doesn't?" Robin tilted his head.

"No!" Superboy squeaked, "Where did you even meet that kid?!"

"He saved me from being shot. It's no big deal."

"Does B know he exists?" Red Robin asked.

"No."

"Then it's a big deal." The others sighed.

Nightwing shrugged. "Next time introduce us to him properly though, when we're not suffocating in a hole."

"I suppose I will consider it."

Orphan was quiet for a moment, "New brother?"

"NO!" They all said together as she chuckled.

#dp x dc prompt #this is pretty terrible #but it's been a long day #so it's here #my prompts

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azfell-ajcrowley · 11 months ago

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Something we didn't notice (part 2)

part 1

Overall, the meta is based on close observation of Aziraphale (for the most part) and Crowley. Without speculation or trying to guess what we haven't been shown (well, almost).

The Metatron makes it clear that he is watching Aziraphale delivering the "good news". Aziraphale looks back at him.

The first thing I'd like to explain. The Metatron is talking to Muriel, and then he stares at the window of the bookshop duplicating that gaze toward Crowley. The frame changes and we see Aziraphale looking out the same window, just for a second, but he will do it repeatedly.

As Crowley starts his monologue, Aziraphale tries to stop him by gesturing for him not to say too much, while looking out the window himself. Aziraphale continues to turn to the window with every meaningful attempt to speak.

Let's also note that Aziraphale doesn't usually behave in a similar way in conversations with Crowley. Yes, Aziraphale is characterised by active gesticulation, but the constant pauses, averting his eyes from the interlocutor, nervous and jerky movements - these are messengers that angel is holding something back, hiding or simply doesn't want to tell. Most often we see this Aziraphale in conversations with the leadership - God and Archangels.

https://commonmexicanname.tumblr.com/post/734305363759890432/good-omens-thoughts

Here's a prime example, comparing his interaction with Archangels when he's caught off guard and frantically trying to figure out how to get out of the situation.

I don't think Aziraphale is just lying to Crowley here, no. He just has an audience beyond Crowley. He tries to tell everything, knowing he has more than one viewer.

When Aziraphale mentions the Metatron, he is not just hinting, he points his index fingers - one at the window, another at Heaven, and then in a distinctly active quick motion once more at the WINDOW.

And again - turns his face to the window at the words about Gabriel failing, and then tilts his head towards the transparent panes of the bookshop.

The conversation with the Metatron is important, among other things, to assess Aziraphale's behaviour when Crowley is mentioned by his superiors. At the words about their partnership Aziraphale looks frightened: his facial muscles are tense, his forehead and eyebrows are furrowed, and there is a terror in his eyes.

When the God's spokesman concludes his really suspicious speech, Aziraphale swallows nervously and averts his eyes. He certainly doesn't look like someone who's been offered the fulfilment of his cherished dream. And not like someone who believes it.

Aziraphale looks like someone who has just found out what an enormous amount of incriminating information is in his opponent's possession.

"Tell me you said no. Tell me you said NO." Crowley is definitely shocked and horrified, he thinks the best of his angel. He can't believe what's going on (and he isn't supposed to).

Aziraphale turns his head towards the window again as an answer.

He actually said:

And

We see him right before he walks into the bookshop, he never says yes to the Metatron.

Aziraphale utters his most delusional words while looking out the window. Of course, they're not meant for Crowley. Aziraphale hasn't believed it for a long time, Crowley even more so.

And then Crowley says "Oh, God", without correcting himself afterwards, because this demon can only hope in God here.

For a second Aziraphale has a look of hope on his face that Crowley has realised what he's getting at. Then Aziraphale realises that Crowley is trying to confess. He's waited for so long not to realise. He was about to confess too.

Aziraphale already knows everything Crowley is about to tell him, but more importantly, literally everyone already knows it. It's impossible to stay and start pretending again that there's nothing between them.

Aziraphale has a completely blank stare past Crowley, and then he looks out the window. Again.

And then the most interesting thing happens. Crowley starts his line "And I would like to spend…" But he turns his head and finally looks out the window, where Aziraphale has been pointing so hard since the beginning of their conversation.

Maybe that's the reason Crowley doesn't complete the sentence. And he begins to pick up different words. Maybe not, maybe the sun from the outside is preventing him from seeing the Metatron.

In the final part of their conversation, when they move closer to the bookshop's door, Aziraphale looks towards the window again.

After "no nightingales" line he turns away to hide his feelings and pain.

The cherry on the cake is the kiss, Aziraphale is falling into the abyss. He averts his eyes trying to figure out if the Metatron could have seen what just happened.

When Crowley leaves, Aziraphale thinks he's lost him. But then, even when the Metatron walks in and says devaluing words about Crowley, Aziraphale can't tear himself away from the window, because now he can see Crowley there. Maybe not everything is lost.

Aziraphale retreats back to the clock - to the very spot where Crowley was standing a few minutes ago. He looks out the window at Crowley, as if to say, "I stand where you stood, you stand where the Metatron stood."

#aziraphale #crowley #good omens #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #final fifteen #good ineffable omens #good omens 2 #good omens analysis #good omens parallels #ineffable divorce #ineffable spouses #the final fifteen #the metatron #good omens finale #good omens theories #good omens thoughts #good omens theory #good omens clues

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seat-safety-switch · 19 days ago

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In my neighbourhood, there is nothing more terrible, more frightening, more suburbanite-scaring than nature. We wall ourselves off into these massive suburbs of concrete and glass to avoid ever interacting with the wild kingdom, but it's still out there. Sometimes it comes right into our homes.

Recently, I was out pushing some broken cars around to avoid the 72-hour parking limit, when one of my neighbours engaged me in conversation. Sometimes, I like to have a little chat, both to break up the monotony of spending my entire day foiling the bylaw officers' cruel plan to make me stop parking 100-plus cars on the street, but also to befriend my neighbours so they will stop calling them. My neighbour, who will remain unnamed except to say her name is Julie Hendow of 131 Maple Lane, was concerned about a monster she saw last night.

"It was a skunk, can you believe it?" she asked in horror. I was entirely capable of believing that a small nocturnal animal was capable of heading up from the public park down the street, and hiding her babies under Julie's porch. That skunk, though, represented a tension in the neighbourhood. I immediately realized that if I could remove her from the public eye, I would be hailed as a hero. And heroes get to park wherever the fuck they want. It's in the Bible.

Now, you might think it's difficult, or even risky, to move an animal that can spray you with bad-smelling juice. This is only the case if you don't want to smell bad. I grabbed that skunk and her kits, and loaded them into the back of a dilapidated Subaru wagon in the corner of my backyard. There, they would be able to do their shenanigans (growing up and discovering the bounty of life) without my neighbours seeing. And I only smelled a little worse than usual: when I went by the YMCA they'd probably give me a shower pass for free, again, figuring I was one of those unhoused folks that they were obligated to help out. No, I have a house. It just doesn't have any water or electricity, but they don't need to know that.

Most importantly, I had sacrificed my health to save the neighbourhood. A hero now walked among them. And until I decided to cash in that free YMCA shower, nobody was going to get within 30 feet to talk to my stinky ass. A golden age was dawning over the Maple Crescent housing projects, friends: an age that will never again have anyone asking me to stop parking my rusty-ass Plymouths in their driveway.

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cherie-doll · 12 days ago

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Could we please have a part 2 on the vampire cod men + victorian era + vampires.

Maybe with reader moving to the countryside abd being the towns new school teacher instead?

yep! link to first part is here for anyone who hasn't read it

i rlly wanna write a whole fic off of this plot i've built up bc i have SO MUCH LORE but idk how it'll fare

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Them As Vampires #2

๋࣭♱ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

The ripples of hysteria that had been caused by what the people believed were vampires preying on vulnerable people could barely be felt in the countryside, he had resided here for some time, surely there was no need for caution here

He was respected among neighbors, honored for his service in the past and now lived rather peacefully under protection of the wealth he had acquired in his youth

You had become an interesting individual who had dismantled his idyllic life, you were youthful, so full of vigor and life being around the children and instructing them

He sensed maturity and sagacity from you, and you revived what he thought had been dormant for a long time; lust and violent devotion, the need to possess and protect you

And passing through the final threshold you'll see he is actually the gentlest, using his many years of wisdom to guide you, convincing you to settle with him and despite the tumult you've found yourself in by being the muse of multiple vampires, he'll provide all the support and help you need to pursue your passion of teaching

Now, when accepting a vampire's offer, you must be very careful, for you may end up indebted with them and their requests may seem unreasonable, but he is not cruel, he only requires you to lend him your love for one lifetime, to save him from his many long years of solitude, that's all he asks of you

Ghost

Here was the worst of the unsalvageable, the damned, the condemned and the poor, forgotten souls of the departed beings trapped on earth, he was barely a person; a remnant and a corpse

He despises himself due to the curse he was to live with for eternity lest something put him out of his misery, the cycle of turning others into that he was; a monster, a corpse, a despicable creature

Yet the first moment he saw you, he knew he needed you, that overpowering sense of going after what called for him, he wanted you to understand his pain, of being different from everyone else because of an ugly past

It's not like you to be frightened but the scare he gave you on the first encounter was one that could have had you turning away from him had you not seen him in a moment of weakness, him doubled over, pain overtaking him, in his wild and crazed state you saw how forlorn his eyes were, half-starved was he and all you could do was observe his erratic breathing

you want to know his thoughts, you don't want him to hide any longer and to live as he's never lived before

He too, is drawn in by your soft nature, in this isolated pocket of earth, hidden from the bustling of crowds in town, you have all the time in the world to heal him, all you did was show sympathy and he took and he learned to not seize it as if you were to never offer it again but ask for it in return

Soap

He considers his bloodline irrelevant to his value, disregarding the riches his family has wanted to hand down for him to manage but he knows that as the eldest and with an eternity ahead of him, he'll be held down by earthly possessions from doing what he truly desires

He'll be more than pleased to donate some of that money to you without his family's knowledge so you can use it to give the poor children an opportunity to study without their having to pay, he knows a good natured person when he sees one, you're more good than all those bloody guilty and deceitful men who can walk by a starving child and only tip their hat in greeting

Just as he spends a great amount of time studying plants he finds himself wanting to learn more about you, observing every detail and habit of yours as if another species to learn about, he wishes he could take you home like he has done with many of his plants and keep you under his watchful eyes constantly

Stepping into his rather large estate can prove difficult due to the overgrown plants stretching and overtaking the place, they have crawled up the walls and creep into cracks which can easily get you lost if you were to enter alone

He'll give over any amount of money if you agree to have dinner with him as he gets rather lonely in his grand place he's inherited, he was to get a wife along with the passing down of the estate but he declined saying he already had his eye set on someone

Gaz

He's the most passion driven soul you've come across, his entire being emits warmth and sincerity, never would you have guessed he was half cold had he not told you so

His douceur nature is what attracts you to him, more tightly bound is this simple gesture than honeyed words of seduction which are commonly used by vampires for their victims, but his human half does not allow him to be completely consumed by carnal desire

Despite his better judgement he spends many evenings with you past what is proper of "good company" only, knowing sooner or later you'll grow curious at the mask he wears to hide what truly pains his soul, you seem to so easily read his emotions from his work as an artist

It captivates you how beautifully he can compose a dulcet song or write the pains of his melancholy on bloodstained paper, you want to mend the anguished heart within him before his sanity deteriorates and the madness awakes and takes away the human in him struggling to live with this feeling of alienation from being different from both halves

The only solace he knew before you was getting lost in the hills of this quiet countryside scenery and taking in all of what is good for the tortured senses, standing in silence to marvel at the moving clouds and sky, but now he is glad to find someone who is not only passionate about learning but also teaches the young children

Roach

How cruel had fate been to thrust him into this unchangeable course for the remainder of his days, it is terrible knowing there is something sinister living inside of you just waiting to claw out and shed your old skin, when he just wishes to live his idyllic life which is why he's even moved out to the countryside in the first place, town is no place for him, especially not a vampire

He wishes for a somewhat normal life, he sees you can your ability to be loving without being afraid of of the repercussions, he seeks the very things that may destroy him in the end if he does not learn to proceed with discretion

He is a fledgling; his lack of expertise and experience prevent him from going on with his life normally, finding it extremely hard to find the rhythm of this merry go round without the help of the sire who turned him this beast of blood

The fear upsets his heart as he ruminates on it but with time and your showing him how to prevent it from getting to him release his mind from the prison he's set for himself, he devotes his care to helping as best as he can to others

He finds a lively imagination that he can use to his benefit and it is this animated spirit that demonstrates how much he wants to live despite the cold in his body

Alejandro

He's felt a growing need to seek sanctuary in things that other vampires are unlikely to show an interest in, while others may seek riches and wealth he seeks power through ways people may be less heedful of

Just like him, humans will seek the approval of something, someone greater than their kind, and no matter how many times he is thrown away into the abyss to be forgotten he will dig through and find a way to live and make something out of himself

He just wants to avoid being forgotten about, and he is especially interested in how you are able to so easily make a place for yourself in this little countryside small town without making so much of a commotion, you quietly slipped and fell into a constant pace without clawing at anyone or having to bare your teeth

But for him to know this he must first step down from the podium he's positioned himself upon and learn to live in control of his sinful nature, the recollection of his nature and controlling it is still something he must come to terms with, especially if he's outside of the strict environment he's hidden away in for years

In time he learns to treasure those moments that will wither away with the people if he does not let them sink into his mind as he cradles your reassuring hand in his palm, enveloping your hand to remember the everlasting feeling of what amity must feel like

Rudy

He'll gently hold and savor every moment with you in his hands because chances like these only come once in an eternity, with a life like yours which is so fleeting you must allow him to admire and keep this to himself, it is not jealousy if he worries about you

Your unchanging smile that beams a little brighter for him than the others is more than enough to prove to him that there is light in the world he has seen so enclosed in darkness and seclusion, that there is no reason to hide away like all his other companions do

It is like a new world unfolding in his mind as he gets to know you, how marvelous it feels when you allow him to gaze into your eyes full of liveliness unlike the dimmed eyes he's been accustomed to seeing, you are alleviating to him like the cool shade on an overbearing summer's day

To him, it is such a beautiful thing to witness life from a human's perspective, because life for them is so fleeting and fast anything that happens is worth waiting for, unlike the same routine based lifestyle he's had to put up with for he doesn't even know how long, he only wishes to know simplicity

He is glad to finally have found someone as deserving of love to value nurturing he had kept within him for years

Phillip Graves

Will you choose the man everyone advises you not to go with? Even the undead seem to avoid him and he has few who outright declare to know him, obviously against your better judgement you will because you know no better, he has that tantalizing manner of luring you in

In a moment where you are alone, he finds you, soon as your eyes meet there already is a whole evening's worth of conversing said between the both of you and it's as if he is able to easily control your inquisitiveness to lead you astray from everyone who wishes to protect you and walk right into his arms

"It's all lies, darling" he whispers into your ear when you express worry of what others may think, truly you mustn't believe them, they just don't like outsiders, and he's been one in every place he's been to, seemingly hated or disliked by everyone except you, you make him feel welcome in your home, or so he says

There is now a tether between you and him, a bond unable to be broken so you may never want to be apart from him, why when he has everything you need in this life and the next?

Makarov

It seems death itself follows you no matter where you go, once someone in the family has been in close contact with a vampire, it is hard for the vampire to leave the members of the family alone, for it hopes to find another impressionable heart to overpower and you have been the one with the susceptible heart

He asks you to ignore all the ignorant fools, they're far too brash to bask in your kindness that you give too easily, he is by far the one you are scolded at for even thinking of going near, there have been many rumors of what he does to those who are too naive, those poor victims who have been discarded, their veins sucked dry

He could easily make you surrender completely to him, but you have placed yourself under his care so benevolently that he has felt no need to forcefully subject you to him, with your gentle caress you have made him tremble and quiver out of what can be the closest thing to love as a vampire can experience

And it is with this fragility that you have found in his heart, that you now are in control of him, what happens next is determined whether you will let it taint you by reciprocating the manner in which he has approached you or will you show it purely

Keegan

He has no interest in what humans have got to offer, he finds their existence pitiful if all their efforts are in vain for they do not live very long, he holds a certain hatred for those who are greedy and succumb to every want of theirs

Yet, you arrive without any evil in your heart and you present yourself without filter to hide your intentions, he is curious of this when most of what he's known is greed from others, he keeps mostly to himself and is rarely involved in the affair of others

Still, curiosity is a vampire's greatest weakness, he stalks you nightly to know your persona, he is there to see your disposition in helping others, your kind heart when helping the children, you've displayed more fondness than a mother

In the light of the moon he becomes aware of his senses, the turmoil soon to brew under the stars that will watch as he divulges under susurrus that catch softly in the wind and drift into your room at night through the window; the whispers of confession that you don't quite catch while awake but rather find a way to manifest in your dreams, not sure if they are a nightmare or of a terrifying reality

His deep eyes that catch the light from the candles illuminating the room as he silently observes you

König

Despite the relationship between their countries, there still seems to be some sort of tension between König and the other vampires, the alliance they once had had begun weakening and he is distrusted, just when he is ready to completely untangle himself from this mess you drew him in

Gathering all the violent tension within him and burning it away, letting his rage dwindle and water it down to nothing in the pure night where no one can observe and reprove of him

You soak him in unfathomable amounts of amour and he does not find it within him to bite back, his breath catches in his throat at this feeling he cannot name, he can barely imitate you as a meager way of loving back

You sacrifice all the love you can give for him and he marvels at how you are able with so little you have received in life to give it up to an immortal being who's lived for so long yet received so little

He holds your hand to his face, closing his eyes to remember these moments of a mortal and to not let them be erased by the wind which can so easily take

Horangi

Your curiosity shall surely be the end of you, you spoke to a gentleman at a function for one night and now he's always lurking around you whether you like it or not, you don't even know of it

A vampire's adoration can go to great lengths when they find a human they are infatuated with, other than this he has no reasonable motives, he wishes you would accept his advances, only a vampire can love you forever, he has no difficulty entertaining you with promises exchanged at midnight

This nocturnal romance which tarnishes you, whether it destroys you for nothing or everything you are worth, leaving a deep scar within your heart which you can trace with your fingertips as your ache for him to return

You venture the uneven terrain where angels fear to tread, along the long desolate hallways of an uninhabited home where no other dares to enter, you maintain there waiting and trusting that he'll return every so often to adore you like always, you may go mad but it is something you look forward in the cycle of everyday life

Nikto

In order to escape deep solitude that has turned into loneliness he takes to watching over you like a butterfly on your shoulder when he cannot be there during the day, he seeks the pulsating of your heart, the tremors that run through your bodies when together

You don't draw back in fear like the others do, and this was the first time he was truly loved, in all your fantasy, you always knew he wasn't a monster, he could love, he could be tender and gentle, there was no need for desire or selfishness to consume him entirely, there was a time for him to live the life he deserved, the one you showed him

Still, there is a darkness he cannot fight that comes when listening to your tranquil breaths, the temptation he feels growing and gnawing within him to drink and confine you to the grasps of everlasting immortality, because it truly is terrible to love something that death can take away from him

He can already see the image forming in his mind; the fog that comes from the shaky breaths escaping your lips, the rise and fall of your chest stained with droplets of blood, letting you go cold for a moment before you join him in eternalness

He can only contemplate this as he watches the sun rise over the hillsides through the curtains that shield him from the rays of light

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fqntasies · 9 months ago

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Prize - Feyd Rautha x Reader

Summary: The Na-Baron is set to fight in the arena once more; yet his opponent's reveal is a shock to you and perhaps the other Harkonnen as well. Upon his impending victory, your husband claims you as his prize, ravenous, of course.

Disclaimer: connected to my other fics of feyd. I dont write my stories as chapters, but rather time-jumps to various moments in the reader & feyd's story (considering that I write you both as connected through dreams since childhood, betrothed, etc.)

Word Count: 1,988

This was to be the second fight you would witness of the Na-Baron's, a momentous celebratory event that filled arena's and sparked a sense of frenzy among the inhabitants of Giedi Prime. The first you had witnessed took place just months before your wedding ceremony; in part a testimony of the Na-Baron's prowess and strength, a claim perhaps to your hand, if you were to view it as such. The spectacle had left you breathless then, and you were certain this time such a reaction would be warranted as well. If nothing else, the racing of your heart and the thunderous chorus of the crowds stood attest to it. They were like beasts among the stands, delirious for their prince, and loyal to their homeworld above all else, chants in the air.

This particular occasion already felt separate. Opponents were typically drugged enemy houses or military prisoners let loose in the triangular space, as was custom. But not today. You had seen odd glances among the servants, and even whispers from other members of the Harkonnen house along passing corridors. Something had been changed in the lineup. But what? Had a prisoner been injured? Escaped before the fight? When you look to your handmaidens, they give nothing away but reassuring nods, pale skulls angling towards where the battle will commence after but a moment.

You could not deduce; instead aware of the light breeze that clips at the base of your neck, and the blinding light that reigns above. It casts sharp shadows over your party, jutting from the edge of the alcove's decorative ceiling.

You stand from your seat to walk the few paces to the edge of the balcony, the dark silk of your gown sliding across your thighs like rivets of water. It is just a few paces, but you feel as though you have stepped into a new world as the sun lathes you in it's blanket of heat. You press your palms against the stone that greets you, and eyes turn down, fixed at the doors to the far north of the arena. The ring on your finger sparkles brilliantly in the day, and for a moment, the roars around you are deafening.

Then, silence... and there he is.

You see that pale visage stark against the darkness behind him, hands gripping twin blades, and you are rapt with attention. Feyd's shoulders heave with his heavy breaths, armor only enhancing his form. You knew if you were to stand up close, his eyes would be endless black pools, ravenous for the blood that was to spill before him, striking against the milky softness of his skin. He was his own animal. Foreignly alien, and yet yours all the same. Husband.

You blush as his eyes find yours abruptly, and he stalks from the entryway, steps bringing him towards you in the sand, even as he is leagues below. Your mind drifts to just hours before, where the Na-Baron had caged you among ebony blankets in your shared chambers, leaving no escape from the broadness of him in the cool of the morning. Ghosts of his tongue and mouth have you heaving a breath; licking your lips as though parched. You knew you would dream of him again tonight, even as his arms would trap you like a vice in the safety of sleep. It thrilled and frightened you alike.

Feyd lifts his blade in oath above his head, like a promise to the heavens, and you nod in reply as that sharp edge glints in the light. This blood he spills for you. Always for you. As he would for any who dared to come between.

When he turns, he rolls his shoulders languidly with a tilt of his head. Ready to strike. And you shift to look towards the very same gates he had come through moments ago. That's when you pause - a breath catching in surprise.

The harpies - you were sure of it; their angled forms were roped about each other, a strangling mess of light limbs as they were dragged by burly guards towards the center of the sands. An offering before their dark prince. Proposed like some strange kind of sacrificial lamb.

Suddenly you knew - this was what had made everyone so surprised.

Feyd has turned again, his face now determined, set. You can see it in the sharpness of his jaw, like he vibrates with a new kind of rage. It's his declaration of his love. He will destroy the things that sought to destroy them and their bond; greedy creatures who cared not for the destiny set before their master. Only seeking flesh and carnal sustenance.

At one point, members of the Harkonnen house had thought to leash the Na-Baron with the harpy creatures; perhaps thinking such temptations could control him, avenues orchestrated by the Baron himself, or Rabban, though you assumed the former. But they had failed to see the lengths to which Feyd was devoted to you, had never known the dreams you both had shared since before your very meeting.

This was what he offered to you. Power and promise. Heady in the air, and ripe with opportunity.

---

When they were lifeless upon the sands, you meet your husband's gaze again. There is red painting his body like stars in the milkyway; and a gash covers his chest where one of the harpies had caught him in her claws. He sways a bit, almost drunkenly; and a bloodied grin paints handsome features as he picks up a pace towards you, black cloak carrying behind him like a billowing shadow. You know where he is headed, as his form disappears beneath. It sets your heart to a stampede, goosebumps prickling along the flesh of your arms, and you are swift to dart from the cover of your ladies.

He hunts you, a hulking form somewhere below, closer and closer.

You envision the Na-Baron stalking through the main doors as you flit between sunlight and shadows, a rasp low in his chest as he parts his lips to taste the air, bloodlust and craving. A needy hunger. It makes your legs feel unstable as you blindly chase between archways, imagining the ghost of your prince behind you at your neck. Would he grab you, you wonder...? Would such hands that had slaughtered moments ago trap you now? The horror. The wonder. Your fingers grasp fistfuls of your gown, bare feet pressing against the cool of the marble under your padded steps.

You huddle swiftly behind a wall to catch your breath, angling your jaw to listen as you puff air in and out of your lungs.

"I know your here, princess."

You startle in silence, running cold - gosh - that voice. It was a weak point for you, Feyd had learned swiftly (as had you). A dangerous piece of knowledge, used more often than not as a way to keep you in your shared bed, wanton and delirious as he sought you out. You knew he carried a dare in his words now. Try to run, little rabbit. Try and see.

You want him to catch you, you think. Though perhaps not yet. Your mind fights for what to do - envisions him around you, and you battle the fog of your machinations in a fleeting moment - dashing towards a new hall at the opposite side of the room.

His laugh is low and drawn out as you fly from him, turning into a growl. You are nearly through a new door when he has you - twisting your fighting form and pulling you with him into the unfamiliar space, strong fingers gripping at your waist.

Then he is claiming your mouth with his, pulling you down with him and into his lap, arms trapping you like you were meant to be there - precisely so - all tongue and taste; the two of you stumbling against a wall. You moan - preen against him, fitting to his hold like a puzzle piece that was perfectly matched.

The slide of his tongue on yours is wet and heavy - and in the haze of kisses you see his eyes heavy lidded, watching, following a growl and the nip of his black teeth. It has you sighing again, mewling like some wanton thing, and the silk of your skirts are gripped in his hand at your hip, which cranes to push you against him. The other angles your neck, tipping your mouth deeper into his, and you think for a moment there is no where else you could go. No where quite like this where you belong so completely. His touch is so warm, and broad - iron too, you are aware that even if you attempted a form of escape, he would have you again in an instant.

"- My prince."

His eyes flash at your breathy words. You two had danced this game before - pretending it was your first meeting, feigning some kind of unaware strangers scenario, though you were both well aware of the visions that plagued each other's sleep for years.

He couldn't ignore the calling of your soul even if he tried.

"My lady." He sounds debauched as he cranes to attach a hot mouth to the spot below your ear, and you arch further into him, brows knitting together at the sensation; fighting for control. You make that sound again - the gentle whine that makes his eyes nearly roll back in his skull, and he chases it with another lathe of his tongue, and a warning rumble in his chest.

Don't tempt me - he taunts.

You have half a mind to mark him the same.

"You're not leaving this time, sweet one. I still haven't even gotten your name." His words proceed a suck at your bottom lip, and you angle to taste him in the fog that covers your mind. You almost don't understand the words in your haze; but the smile you taste in his kisses brings you back, and you pull away enough to face him, lips detaching from his own with a wet gleam.

"But my lord - you know I am engaged." the rumble he makes is another warning, hips against your own as his hands hold you there.

"Then I shall cut him down like all the rest." There is a pride and a jealousy that glimmers in the Na-Baron's eyes, even in this pretend world the two of you have crafted, and it takes you a moment to snap out of your heady admiration of him, chasing after his tongue with your own as you lean back in. Heads turn this way, and that, the heat of your breaths and the wetness of your kisses filling the silence of the space you've chosen.

Feyd groans - followed by a gentle tilt of your head, and his lips are by your ear, his hand in your hair, a commanding hold - though you know he'd never hurt you.

"I quite think you'd enjoy that, wouldn't you, little one?" You pant softly in response, only able to suffice a delicate nod in his embrace, overcome with your desire for him. And that's all he needs to hear, sliding his tongue against yours once more before he's hoisting you in his arms, the fabric of your dress bundling by his hold, baring the soft tenderness of your thighs. It has the muscles in his neck craning with a ragged groan, eyes trailing to meet yours with barely restrained tension. A man at his breaking point.

His swift strides have you clinging tightly to him, nose against his neck, pressed just under his ear. The wafting aroma of his cologne and the sweat and blood of the arena are filling your senses. You know he brings you to your chambers; the grip of his hands and the speed of his steps tell you as much; it makes you taste your lip between your teeth, pressing just so against him.

His prize.

#WE'RE BACK BABYYY #y'all know i couldnt stay away from another feyd fic #enjoy this delicious chapter #gosh i just wanna kiss a man #and feyd's got the most kissable mouth ever its so not fair #feyd x reader #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #x reader #fanfic #dune #dune part 2 #dune pt 2 #dune 2 fanfic #austin butler #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha x you #feyd x you

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moonselune · 7 months ago

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Seluneyyyy I can’t get over the dark bg3 content!!!! I am absolutely devouring it and am ravenous for more!! 🥵 Especially for Gale, Astarion, and Halsin! SO enchanted with your writing style and everyone is so IC down to the last detail!

Just an idea for a future one—you could base it off of “Just where do you think you’re going?” like an escape attempt or something

Xxx

mwhahahahahha yes yes yes I love this series icl

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Dark!BG3 | Escape Attempt

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

For: Conqueror!Minthara, MotherSuperior!Shadowheart, God!Gale, Ascended!Astarion, Naturist!Halsin

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

CW: Controlling, manipulation, murder, gore, coercion, forced memory loss, entrapment

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Conqueror Minthara:

After weeks of confinement and illness, Minthara's tender care brought you back from the brink (a brink she had pushed you towards but you tried not to dwell on that). Though you were far from fully recovered. One morning, restless and craving some semblance of freedom, you decided to take a walk around the gardens. It was a rare privilege, and one Minthara had permitted as a gesture of goodwill.

The gardens were eerily beautiful, filled with lush, vibrant plants and flowers that contrasted sharply with the gruesome displays of traitors’ corpses hanging from gnarled trees and spikes. Each corpse was a grim reminder of Minthara’s ruthlessness, a warning to any who might consider betrayal. As you walked among them, the air thick with the scent of decay, a rising panic began to claw at your insides.

Your breath quickened, heart pounding in your chest. You could almost see yourself among the corpses, your life snuffed out as easily as theirs had been. The terror grew, feeding on itself, until you were consumed by the overwhelming need to escape.

Without thinking, you turned and began to run, your steps frantic and uneven. You stumbled through the gardens, desperate to put as much distance between yourself and the macabre displays as possible. But in your panic, you collided with a solid figure, the impact jarring you back to reality.

Minthara stood before you, her eyes narrowing with a mix of surprise and amusement.

"Where do you think you are going?" she asked, her voice a soft, dangerous purr.

You couldn’t find the words to respond, your mouth dry and your mind blank. You could only think of escape, of getting away from this house, this place, this woman who held your life in her hands. You tried to push past her, but Minthara’s grip was firm and unyielding. She encircled your waist with her arms, pulling you close with an ease that belied her strength.

"Clearly, you are still unwell," she murmured, her breath warm against your ear. "Come, let’s get you back to the garden."

The suggestion was a trigger, and your panic surged again. You struggled against her hold, but she was unmovable. In your desperation, you found yourself nestling closer to her, throwing your face into her shoulder and clinging to her, desperately trying to hide from the sight of the corpses that haunted your vision.

Minthara’s eyes lit up with realization and satisfaction. She understood the source of your panic, and it pleased her. She placed her palm on the back of your head and held you dear to her.

"Oh, my dearest," she whispered, her voice dripping with dark delight. "Are you frightened? You should be. This is what happens to those who defy me."

She held you tighter, her arms a cage you couldn’t escape. Her fingers brushed through your hair soothingly, a stark contrast to the horror around you.

"But you are not like them, are you?" She cooed to you, "You are mine, and I take care of what is mine."

Minthara began to lead you back towards the house, her grip never loosening. You clung to her, your panic attack rendering you helpless, your body trembling against hers. She guided you with a twisted sense of gentleness, her satisfaction evident in the way she held you, in the tone of her voice as she whispered reassurances.

"Shh, shh," she hushed, her lips brushing against your temple. "You are safe with me. As long as you obey, you will never end up like them. Do you understand?"

You nodded weakly, the fight drained from you by your terror and her unyielding presence. Minthara smiled, a cruel, victorious smile, and continued to lead you back into the safety of the house. As you crossed the threshold, the grisly sights of the garden faded from view, but the memory of them remained, a chilling reminder of your place in Minthara’s world.

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Mother Superior Shadowheart:

The dim light of the temple flickered as you slipped from Shadowheart's grasp, your heart pounding in your chest. The shadows that usually comforted you felt suffocating now, and an inexplicable urge to escape overwhelmed you. You didn't know why you needed to run, but the pull was irresistible, like a siren song luring you to freedom.

The more distance you put between yourself and the temple, the lighter you felt. The oppressive weight on your shoulders began to lift, and a clarity you hadn't known in months started to seep into your mind. You moved through the darkened hallways, past ancient statues and altars, each step bringing a sense of liberation.

Finally, you reached the edge of the temple, the threshold to the outside world just a few steps away. The moonlight bathed the entrance in a silvery glow, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you. Freedom was within your grasp. But as you lifted your foot to take that final step, a voice shattered the serene silence.

"Where do you think you're going?" Shadowheart's voice was panicked, her eyes wide with fear and confusion as she appeared before you, seemingly out of nowhere.

"I… I don't know," you stammered, the urge to run still strong within you. "It just felt right."

Shadowheart's expression softened, but her eyes remained filled with worry. "Please, come back to me," she pleaded, reaching out a hand. "You don't understand what's happening. You need to stay with me."

You hesitated, torn between the instinct to flee and the bond you shared with Shadowheart. You eyed her with confused caution as she stepped closer, her presence commanding yet desperate.

"We belong together," she insisted, her voice a mixture of urgency and affection.

The seconds stretched into an eternity as you stood on the brink of freedom, your mind waging a war with itself. Shadowheart's eyes bored into yours, her desperation palpable. She couldn't afford to lose you—not now, not ever.

Growing impatient, Shadowheart's demeanor shifted. She muttered an incantation under her breath, her fingers weaving a quick, intricate pattern in the air. You felt a wave of magic wash over you, and your vision blurred. Your legs gave out, and darkness claimed you before you could react.

When you regained consciousness, you found yourself back in your shared quarters, the familiar surroundings a stark contrast to the freedom you had nearly tasted. Shadowheart sat beside you, her face a mask of concern and relief. She had carried you back, her determination to keep you by her side evident in every action.

"You can't leave," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You belong with me. You belong to me."

You tried to sit up, but the remnants of the spell still weighed heavily on you. Shadowheart gently pushed you back down, her touch both tender and firm.

"Rest now," she urged. "You need to regain your strength."

As you lay there, exhaustion pulling you back into unconsciousness, you couldn't shake the feeling that something vital had been taken from you. The pull to escape still lingered, but for now, there was no running away. You were hers, bound by a connection that you would never understand.

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God of Ambition Gale:

The desire to reconnect with the mortal world had been growing within you for weeks, an insistent whisper in your mind that became impossible to ignore. The material plane called to you, a siren song of simpler times and fleeting pleasures. The idea of feeling the sun on your skin, of walking among ordinary people, filled you with a yearning that bordered on desperation.

You waited for a moment when Gale was deeply engrossed in his divine affairs, a rare instance when his attention was not focused on you. Slipping away from his grand palace, you moved quickly and silently, your heart pounding with both fear and excitement. The portal to the material plane shimmered ahead of you, a gateway to the world you once knew.

Just as you reached the portal, ready to step through and taste freedom once more, a voice, rich and resonant, stopped you in your tracks.

"Where do you think you are going?" Gale's tone was smooth, but there was an undercurrent of displeasure that sent a shiver down your spine. You turned slowly to face him, trying to muster a semblance of calm.

"I just wanted to see the mortal world again, to reconnect with the life I had before," you explained, your voice trembling slightly.

Gale's eyes darkened, a dangerous glint appearing in them. "Mortal life? Those lesser beings are beneath you now. You belong by my side, not mingling with them."

Frustration surged within you, a rebellion against the gilded cage you were trapped in. "I'm going, whether you like it or not," you declared, turning back towards the portal.

A dark chuckle echoed through the air, and Gale's presence seemed to fill the entire space. "Are you really trying to test my powers?" he asked, amusement and a hint of malice lacing his words.

Before you could take another step, the world around you shifted. In a blink, you found yourself back in Gale's throne room, chained to his godly throne. The chains were ornate and shimmering with an unearthly light, but they were unyielding. You pulled and twisted, trying to break free, but the more you struggled, the tighter they became, drawing you closer to Gale.

He sat on the throne, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of possessiveness and irritation.

"You cannot leave me," he said softly, his voice a velvet caress. "You are mine, bound to me in ways you cannot comprehend."

You continued to fight against the chains, your breath coming in ragged gasps, but it was futile. The chains tightened further, the metal biting into your skin, making escape impossible. Gale watched your struggle with a mixture of pity and amusement.

"Why do you resist?" he asked, leaning forward. "I have given you everything—power, immortality, a place by my side. Why do you long for the mundane, the ephemeral?"

"Because it's real," you whispered, tears of frustration and helplessness streaming down your face. "Because it's life."

Gale's expression softened slightly, but his resolve remained unyielding. He stood, his hand reaching out to gently lift your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Your life is here now," he said firmly. "With me. Embrace it, or you will only find yourself in more pain."

The chains pulled you even closer to him, until you were practically in his lap, your body pressed against his. He held you there, his arms wrapping around you with a possessive tenderness that made your heart ache.

"You are mine," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "Forever."

The reality of your situation settled over you like a suffocating blanket. No matter how much you longed for the mortal world, for the freedom to live as you once had, you were bound to Gale, his power and will inescapable. And as he held you close, whispering words of possession and eternity, you realized that your struggle was not just against the chains that bound you, but against the very essence of your existence by his side.

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Ascended Astarion:

The grand hall of Astarion's palace was bathed in opulence, the glittering chandeliers casting a warm, inviting glow over the sea of influential nobles and highborn guests. The air was thick with the heady scent of fine wines and exotic perfumes, mingling with the sound of laughter and music. Astarion, now an ascended vampire lord, moved gracefully through the crowd, his every gesture a blend of charm and predatory grace. By his side, you played the role of his dark consort, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination.

Astarion's intention for the evening was clear: to ply his guests with drink and charm, loosening their tongues to reveal their most guarded secrets. His smile was disarming, his laughter infectious, and soon the nobles were clinking glasses, sharing confidences they would never dare speak in the light of day.

"Stay close," Astarion murmured in your ear as he stepped away to engage a prominent lord in conversation. You nodded, your mind racing. This was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment you had meticulously planned for weeks.

You slipped onto the lively dance floor, the music and swirling bodies providing the perfect cover. Your eyes scanned the crowd, seeking out the person you had chosen—a mortal who bore a striking resemblance to you. With a quick, practiced motion, you swapped overcoats, draping your ornate garment over their shoulders and taking their simpler attire.

Blending in with the guests, you made your way towards the exit, your heart pounding with each step. The freedom of the material plane called to you like a siren song, and the thought of finally escaping Astarion's gilded cage filled you with a desperate hope. As you approached the noble's carriage, you slipped inside, your breath catching in your throat.

But your relief was short-lived. Sitting opposite you, his eyes gleaming with amusement, was Astarion.

"And where do you think you are going?" he asked, his voice a silken purr.Panic surged through you, and you lunged for the door, but his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with an unbreakable grip.

"Let me go!" you cried, but Astarion only chuckled, pulling you back into the carriage.

"I must admit, I'm impressed," he said, his tone one of mock admiration. "Such a clever little scheme. But did you truly think I would ever mistake that wretch for you?" His eyes bore into yours, his amusement fading to reveal a flicker of hurt. "You are mine. My dark consort."

"Spawn," you spat, the word filled with venom. "An imitation of your power, forever forced at your feet."

Astarion sighed, his interest in the conversation waning. "You will be a true vampire one day, once you learn to behave." His grip tightened on your wrist. "Clearly, you are in need of more discipline."

With a swift motion, he pulled you from the carriage, leading you back into the palace. The revelry continued, the guests oblivious to your plight as Astarion guided you to his throne. He sat down, pulling you onto his lap with a possessive grip. His lips brushed against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.

You blushed, flustered by the intimacy of his touch. You hated being put on display like this, a taste of your punishment later, you assumed. Though as his lips trailed up your neck, leaving a burning sensation in their wake, your resolve began to waver. The room seemed to close in around you, the sounds of the party fading into a distant hum.

"You belong to me," Astarion murmured against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing. "And you will learn to accept it."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Naturist Halsin:

You had been planning your escape from Halsin’s grove for a few weeks now. You could not deny the serene beauty of the druid’s sanctuary had been a temporary refuge, but you knew you couldn't stay. The dense forest that surrounded the grove seemed to close in on you, a reminder that this was not your home. You longed for freedom, for the open road and the chance to leave the past behind.

Tonight, the moonlight cast an ethereal glow over the grove, illuminating the path you intended to take. You moved silently through the shadows, careful not to disturb the sleeping druids and the wildlife. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and excitement as you neared the edge of the grove.

But as you stepped beyond the protective circle of ancient trees, a deep voice cut through the night air, freezing you in your tracks.

"And where do you think you are going?"

You turned slowly, dread pooling in your stomach as you faced Halsin. The druid stood tall and imposing, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and disappointment.

"I—I was just going for a walk," you stammered, trying to sound casual.

Halsin chuckled softly, the sound rich and deep. "A walk, you say? At this hour, and with all your belongings packed? Interesting choice."

You swallowed hard, realizing how transparent your lie had been. Halsin's presence was overwhelming, a force of nature unto itself. He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Do you truly think you can deceive me, my heart?" he asked, his tone gentle but firm. "I have watched over you since you arrived here. I know every thought, every plan that crosses your mind."

You tried to back away, but Halsin moved with surprising swiftness, his large hands gently but firmly grasping your wrists. His touch was warm, almost soothing, but the strength behind it was undeniable.

"You cannot run from what binds you here," he murmured, his voice a soothing lull. "Let me show you."

Before you could protest, Halsin began to chant in a language you did not understand. His voice was low and melodic, each word resonating with ancient power. You felt a strange heat building where his fingers gripped your wrists, the warmth intensifying into a searing pain.

You cried out, but Halsin's grip was unyielding. The pain grew, spreading up your arms, as if fire were coursing through your veins. You struggled, attempting to yank your wrists away but it was futile. Halsin was unyielding. The incantation reached its climax, and the burning sensation became unbearable.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the pain ceased. Halsin released your wrists, and you staggered back, gasping for breath. You looked down and saw intricate floral patterns etched into your skin, glowing faintly in the moonlight.

"What have you done?" you demanded, your voice trembling with fear and anger. Halsin smiled, a serene and knowing smile.

"I have bound you to me," he said simply. "These markings are a part of you now. They will keep you safe, and they will ensure you do not stray far from the protection of the grove, from me,"

You took another step back, turning to run from him but with a mere motion of Halsin’s finger, you felt an invisible force pull you forward. An unseen chain bound to your wrists. You stumbled, falling to your knees before him. The realization hit you like a physical blow—you were bound to him, unable to leave his side.

"Why?" you whispered, tears of frustration and helplessness welling in your eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

Halsin knelt before you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. A thumb brushing a wayward tear from your cheek.

"Because you are important to me, and to the balance of this grove," he said softly. "I cannot let you go, not when you are still in need of guidance and protection."

His touch was tender, and despite your anger and fear, a part of you found comfort in it.

"Stay," he murmured, his voice like a warm blanket enveloping you. "Let me show you the beauty of this world, the peace that can be found in nature’s embrace."

You had no choice but to obey. Bound by his magic, you were a prisoner of his will. Yet as you looked into his eyes, you saw a deep well of kindness and a genuine desire to protect. Perhaps, in time, you would come to understand his reasons - he hoped.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Hehehehehehehe hope you all enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

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