#he would blush if he had blood in his body
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loveesiren · 2 days ago
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Doing It All For Us (Pt. 10)
Masterlist
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Summary: Rafe is safe for now, and their crazy kinks come out once again
Warnings: Language, fighting, smut, blood kink, pregnancy
Word Count: 4.4k+
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And just like that, your world came crashing down around you.
You swallow hard, trying to comprehend what Rafe has just said to you. He's staring at you, waiting for you to say something but the words just wouldn't come.
Rafe tried to hold back tears. This was it. You were going to leave him. He was going to prison and he would lose you and his baby and everything that brought him any ounce of happiness in his life.
"Y-you...shot..."You muttered. "I-is she dead?"
"I don't know," His voice was barely above a whisper.
You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath. "What happened, exactly, Rafe?" You finally managed.
"She was going to arrest my dad. S-she had the gun pointed at him. I-I had to save him, Y/N." He was crying again.
"What? Why was she arresting your dad?"
"John B said Ward killed his dad."
"What the fuck?" You whisper to yourself as you lean back against the frame of Rafe's bed, leaning your head in your hands.
You knew something had happened when Ward took John B fishing. He had come back with a gaff hook wound on his arm claiming John B attacked him. You really didn't stick around to listen to what happened. You were trying to keep your stress levels down but that obviously wasn't happening anymore.
"Where's your dad?"
"He was still at the tarmac. He told me to bring Sarah home. She saw everything..."
"Shit."
"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I fucked up. I panicked, I didn't want my dad to get hurt and I-"
"Shh, baby. I know." You tell him, pulling his face to yours. "I know."
"A-are gonna leave me?" His voice was so pitiful, cracking as he spoke. The sound broke your heart.
"No. I told you, Rafe. Forever. You and me against the world." You told him before pressing your lips to his.
He brought his hands up, tangling his fingers in your hair as he pulled you deeper into the kiss. He couldn't believe it. The fact that you were still here. Still here after he just made the biggest mistake of his life. One that could land him in a jail cell forever.
"Listen to me," You told him as you pulled away. You were way more calm than you should have been, but seeing Rafe freak out somehow helped you to keep your head on straight. "We need to talk to Ward. Find out what happened after you left the tarmac."
Rafe nods between your hands. "Okay."
"We'll figure something out, okay?"
"I-I can't lose you and our baby."
"You won't. I promise you you won't."
-
You and Rafe sat silently in Ward's office as you waited for him to return home. Rafe looked over old photos and awards hung up on the walls, smiling as he ran his fingers over a photo of him and his father.
You watch him sadly. The hold Ward had over him. Rafe just wanted to be accepted and the lack of love Ward had given him has now landed him in the worst possible situation.
Rafe sat down beside you with the picture.
"You look so handsome," You tell him, resting your chin on his shoulder.
He smiles at you. He always blushed when you called him handsome.
Ward walks in the room and your stomach drops. He stares at you both for a moment before sighing and closing the door. You're trying your best to remain calm but your head was flooded with anxiety. Flooded with thoughts of all the worst possible outcomes.
"Is...she alive?" Rafe asks.
Ward shakes his head.
"No?"
"No."
You clench your jaw and take in a deep breath.
"Okay," Rafe said, trying to calm himself as he could feel the anxiety return to his body. "Okay."
You place a hand on Rafe's bicep, rubbing his skin lightly to try and calm him down.
"What did you tell the cops? Are they coming here?" Rafe asks.
Ward walks to his desk, pouring himself a glass of whiskey before responding. "I told them John B did it."
"Told 'em John B did it..." Rafe repeated his father's words, pondering the idea. "That's good. Yes, that could work!"
You bit your lip as you watched Rafe start to get manic.
"Rafe. I need you to go to your room. Take a shower okay? Get cleaned up. If anyone asks, you were here all day okay? You were doing maintenance on The Druthers." Ward says, glancing to you. You nod your head in agreement.
"No. No, Rose knows I wasn't here." Rafe argued.
"I will talk to Rose."
"What-what about Sarah?" Rafe asks, standing up now.
"What about Sarah?" Ward asks.
"Sarah, listen, Sarah has a big mouth okay?"
"You're sister isn't going to do anything to hurt us."
"No, no, no you didn't see her in the car okay? She was freaking out!" Rafe argues back. You could hear the stress in his voice. "I have a suggestion-"
"Rafe! Stop it! I don't need your help. I didn't need it then and I don't need it now. I just need to think! So please, go clean up!" Ward was yelling now. You could see the pain on Rafe's face.
"You understand, right? Rafe said sadly. "You understand?"
"Understand what, Rafe?"
"Why I did it."
You sat silently, biting back tears. Ward turned to look at Rafe once again.
"You were in trouble and I was protecting you. Okay? Me, dad. Rafe. Not Sarah, okay? It was me!"
You couldn't help but cry now as you watched tears spill from his eyes. This wasn't his fault. You couldn't blame him for what he did. He was so broken.
Rafe backed away as Ward walked towards him. "Sorry," Rafe said softly, nervous of what his dad was going to do next.
Ward slowly pulled Rafe to him. "I know, come here. Come on, come on, bud."
You watched Rafe's face. He was shocked at the fact that his dad was hugging him. But he hugged him back tightly.
"Come on, bud, I'm sorry. I love you. I love you, Rafe. So much."
Rafe smiled at his dad's words. You couldn't help but watch them with sorrow in your eyes. The way his father's approval made him glow. How could Ward not see how special his son was?
"Listen, everything is going to be okay. We will figure it out." Ward promises.
You stand up and grab Rafe's hand. He wraps his arms around you tightly.
"Y/N-" Ward begins.
"Maintenance on The Druthers." You nod. "I'm all in."
Ward offers a sad smile. He's obviously upset that the three of you were now involved in this mess. But he was going to protect his son at all costs and make sure he gets the chance to be a father himself.
-
You and Rafe move in silence. The events of the day heavy on your mind. He pulls you into the shower with him and the two of you just stand there holding each other as you let the warm water wash away your worries.
The feeling of his skin on yours had you crying silently. You don't know what you'd do without him. He trailed the tips of his fingers over your spine and you drag your acrylics up and down his back.
Rafe moved a hand to your stomach, brushing over it softly. You didn't need to speak. Neither of you did. You could feel how much Rafe loved you and your unborn child. You clung to him tightly, reminding him you were still there. That you and Wolf were still there.
Rafe turned the shower off and wrapped you up in a towel, drying you off before he grabbed your favorite lotion and made sure he rubbed it over every inch of your body. You melted under his touch. The way his fingers traced the contours of your skin. The way he worshipped every part of your body, placing kisses all along your limbs.
He scooped you up and carried you to his bed. He went to his dresser and pulled out a shirt for you to wear. You slid it on, clutching the fabric tightly because it smelled like him.
He pulled on some boxers and climbed into bed beside you before grabbing his remote and flipping through the horror movie section.
He decided on Sinister, knowing it was one of your favorites. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. You snaked your legs between his and clung to him like a Boa Constrictor.
He ran his fingers through your wet hair as you concentrated on your movie. He never cared for horror, but he loved watching you get so focused. He worked on detangling each knot in your hair, silently praying that everything would turn out okay. He'd just murdered someone today. A cop. The Sheriff. And somehow, you were still here in his arms.
"You're with a murderer." Rafe whispered against your forehead. The guilt was starting to set in.
"I'm with Rafe Cameron." You responded. "A man that protects what he loves at all costs."
You could feel his tears fall on your face as he hugged your closer.
"Me and Wolf will always be safe with you." You reassured him. And it was true. Rafe loves with his whole heart. If he could get past your flaws you could get past his. He killed someone, yes, but to protect his father. You know he'd kill for you and his baby too.
You felt 100% safe wrapped up in Rafe's arms. Nothing would take you from him.
-
You woke up early. A lot earlier than Rafe. You crawled out of bed and pulled on your jeans. You placed a kiss on Rafe's forehead before sneaking out of his room, desperate for some food. The baby was hungry to say the least.
You could hear Ward and Sarah talking down the hall. You stood outside Sarah's room and listened.
"He shot her!"
"You have to pick between John B or your family!" Ward responded. "Nothing is going to happen to Rafe."
Ward walked out of her room, closing the door and locking it. He spotted you, giving you a look of concern.
"Let me out!" You could hear Sarah pound on the door.
"Why are you locking her in there?" Wheezie asked as she rounded the corner.
"Listen, there was an accident and your sister is very upset so we need to give her some time to calm down." Ward told her.
"Did something happen to the baby?" Wheezie asked, turning to you.
"No!" You told her. "The baby, is just fine, Wheeze." You smile at her. "Let's go have breakfast, yeah?" You ask her, leading her downstairs. You glance back at Ward with a warning look. Telling him he needs to get Sarah under control.
You and Wheezie sit at the kitchen table, nibbling on bacon and talking about the boys in her class.
Rafe rushes into the kitchen. He'd managed to put on sweats but no shirt. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees you.
"Baby, where'd you go?"
"I'm having breakfast with Wheezie," You say, pulling him in for a kiss. "Baby was hungry."
He sits beside you, wrapping an arm around your stomach and the other around your neck. You offer him a piece of bacon and he takes it in one bite.
"Ew, do I have to be like you guys when I start dating?" Wheezie scoffs.
"You're not dating anyone, Wheeze." Rafe snaps.
You chuckle. "No. Never let a boy do something you're uncomfortable with."
Rafe was nuzzling into your neck now, placing wet kisses along your skin.
"Yuck," Wheezie scoffs. "I hope guys aren't like this."
"They are!" Rafe shouts as Wheezie gets up and walks away. "No boys!"
"You know, being all over me like this is gonna have her thinking all guys are like this." You scold.
"They are."
"Maybe at our age, but not at hers."
"No boys."
You roll your eyes as Rafe lays his head in your lap and wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your belly.
"Rafe, this is the kitchen," Rose scolds as she walks in the room.
Rafe groans and leans up. You laugh and go back to eating your breakfast, feeding Rafe some as well as he still keeps his hands on your stomach.
"They're looking for John B." Ward states as he walks in the kitchen. You and Rafe both look up. "There's a reward out for him. $25,000."
You smile. The island was buying it. John B killed Peterkin. Rafe was safe.
Rose knew. She knew Rafe had done it. But she'd never do anything to rat out this family. Especially since Rafe was going to be a father.
You and Rose had actually gotten quite close. She had a miscarriage at a young age. It was hard. But she was more than happy that you were pregnant and she was dead set on making sure you were eating good and taking care of yourself.
She loved her step children like her own. But Rafe was crazy, Sarah wanted to be a Pogue, and Wheezie spent a lot of time on TikTok. But you always gave Rose the time of day. You liked helping her water her flowers and discussing baby stuff and preparing dinner.
-
John B was almost caught the night prior when you, Rafe, and Kelce tried to smoke out the bell tower. But Topper chose to pick his undying love for Sarah and let John B and Sarah get away.
You had found Rafe outside in the morning, starting up his bike and talking to himself.
"Baby, what's going on?" You asked him, forcing him to calm down and look at you.
"Stay here, Y/N!" Rafe snapped at you before hopping on his bike and riding off.
Oh fuck no.
You ran inside and grabbed the keys to his truck. You hopped in, backing out of the driveway quickly. It wasn't long before you spotted Rafe. You slowed down, trailing behind a bit so he wouldn't notice you. You watched as he pulled into Barry's house.
"Goddammit." You muttered to yourself. You were not wanting to see Barry after what happened a month and a half ago. You were in your second trimester now. Pulling into this house gave you anxiety.
You park the truck and sigh. Finally pulling yourself out of the vehicle and heading inside.
"I'm 100% fucked man!" You heard Rafe yell.
"What the fuck is happening?" You ask as you swing open the screen door.
"Y/N," Rafe said. "Why the fuck are you here?!"
"Don't fucking snap at me, Rafe!"
Rafe shut his mouth. You scoffed and went and sat on Barry's couch.
"Look, how long do you think it's gonna take for them to find John B?" Barry asked. "And when they find him, he's gonna start snitchin'."
"You know it was John B that stole that 25k from you right?"
"Exactly my point, Country Club. The hammer's comin' down on them Pogues."
"Let's go get your fuckin' money then." You say, standing up from the couch.
"Y/N-" Rafe starts.
"Rafe, I swear to God, I will knock your ass out." Your hormones were making themselves known.
"I don't got time for you two to argue. Let's go!" Barry yells.
Rafe glances at you and you give him a stern look back before following him outside. He gives you his helmet as you climb on the back of his bike and wrap your arms tightly around him.
After riding around for a bit you stopped at an intersection as you watched a ton of cop cars drive by. "Shit, they're looking for him." You mutter.
"Yo, is that Kie?" Rafe asks as you see a familiar SUV drive past.
"There goes that lil bitch ass now!" Barry said and you all kicked off and followed Kie's car.
You all hopped off the bikes as you pulled up to an old garage. "Alright you two go around that way and I'll take 'em from over there." Barry says, directing you where to go. You nod and follow Rafe.
"Hey, there. What's goin' on? How you guys doing?" Rafe says as he enters the garage and walks towards Kiara. You stand off to the side and cross your arms, eyeing their movements as Barry holds a gun up to JJ.
God you wished you could fucking fight.
Barry took JJ down easily and you watched Rafe drag Kiara away. "It's not you we want, Kie, okay? Where's John B?"
"I don't know!" She screamed as she slapped him hard across the face.
You started forward, it took everything in you not to attack her.
"I know what you did! You murdered Peterkin!" Kiara yelled at him.
Shit. She knew. John B must have told her. You were too distracted by Kiara and Rafe to notice Pope sneak up behind you and hit you in the back of the knee with a tire iron.
You let out a loud cry as you feel to the floor, catching yourself just before your stomach made contact with the cement.
"Y/N!" Rafe yelled, but before he could get to you, Pope was hitting him.
JJ had tripped Barry, causing him to drop his gun and Kiara was quick to grab it, pointing it at you as you looked up at her from the ground.
You clenched your jaw angrily as you held your hands up in surrender.
"Don't touch her!" You could hear Rafe yell, trying to fight off Pope. "She's fucking pregnant, please! Please don't hurt her!"
Kiara's eyes went wide as she lowered the gun. "Pope, Pope! He's had enough dude!" JJ was yelling, trying to get Pope to release his grip on the cord wrapped around Rafe's neck.
"Rafe!" You cried, trying to get to your feet but the searing pain in your leg was preventing you from doing so.
"Pope, look at me!" Kiara screamed, finally getting Pope's attention as he let go of his hold on your boyfriend. "Come on, we gotta get out of here!"
You were crying now, crawling over to where Rafe was laying covered in blood. "Rafe, baby, are you okay?" You asked, holding his face in your hands.
He was breathing heavily and coughing, pulling you close to him. He clung to you, trying to catch his breath, placing a protective hand over your belly.
"I'm okay, Rafe. I promise." You tell him, cradling his head. "I'm okay."
After a few minutes, Rafe's finally able to sit up. "Where'd he hit you?" He asked.
"In the back of the leg. He didn't hit the baby. I promise." You reassure him.
"He's fucking dead."
"We'll get them, Rafe. Right now we gotta make a plan." You glance over to where Barry was picking himself up off the ground. "You good, Barry?"
"Yup!" Barry groans as he stands up and walks over to help Rafe up.
Rafe helped you up and wrapping his arm around your waist as you limped beside him, leading you out to the bikes. Rafe sat down and you wedged yourself between his legs as you looked over his injuries.
"Sheriff Peterkin, huh?" Barry laughed. "You're better than I thought, Country Club!"
You shoot daggers at Barry and he shuts up. You could tell he wanted to say some dumb shit but he bit it back.
"Look, we're gonna get John B, aight? I'll be in touch." Barry says before walking off towards his bike.
"Hey, baby, look at me." You say, taking Rafe's face between your hands and forcing him to make eye contact. You could tell he was on the verge of a break down.
"I let you get hurt. I put you in danger. I put our baby in danger." He said as he bit back tears.
"No you didn't Rafe. I'm the one who wanted to come. I was the one not paying attention."
"I'm supposed to protect you." He leans his head on your shoulder, pulling you closer by your belt loops.
"Rafey, you do. Shit happens sometimes."
He shakes his head.
"Hey, look at me!" You say again, forcing his head up. You bit your lip as you looked at him. The blood coating his skin did things to you. You wrapped your fingers through his hair at the base of his neck and pulled his head back. You ran your tongue up his neck to his chin, licking off the fresh blood that dripped from his wound.
You heard him groan at the sensation, tightening his grips on your hips as his shorts tightened.
You pressed your lips to his, letting your tongue slip into his mouth as you enjoyed the metallic taste that lingered there.
"Take me home, Rafe." You whispers against his lips.
-
Rafe pulled into your driveway and helped you off the bike. You'd been staying at the Cameron's for so long you were happy to be home.
You also didn't want to walk into Tannyhill bloody and limping, knowing there would be a plethora of questions about what happened.
You limped to your front door and fiddled with your keys.
"Baby, let me help you." Rafe says, taking your keys from you and helping you stand up.
Once you were inside Rafe picked you up and carried you to the couch. You both groaned in pain as you sat down.
"Do you feel okay?" Rafe asks.
"Yeah, baby. Are you okay?" You run your hand over the bruising on his face. He nods. "Take your shirt off."
He does as he's told and you examine the bruises forming on his back from where Pope had hit him with the tire iron. He winced in pain as you lightly pressed his skin.
"Sorry baby..." You said.
"It's okay," He mumbles. You bite your lip as your eyes scan his body. The bruising, the blood. You hated seeing him hurt but it fucking turned you on. "What?" He asks with a smirk.
You suddenly felt shy. You felt your cheeks blush as you smile up at your boyfriend. "Tell me what you need, princess," His voice was low as he smiled and moved on top of you, placing soft kisses on your neck.
Your breath hitched at the sensation. "You want my blood, huh, pretty girl?"
"Mhmm," You moan.
Rafe grabs your jaw, forcing your mouth open. You stick out your tongue as he lets his bloody saliva slip from his lips to yours. "Swallow." He demands and you happily oblige. You could feel the warmth at your core. "Good girl."
Rafe tugs at your shirt, pulling it off over your head, leaving you exposed to him. He brings his lips to your collar bone and sucks at your skin, surely leaving bruises.
"Fuck, Rafe..." You breathe.
He brings his hands to your breasts and massages roughly, flicking your nipple between his fingers and you could feel your need for him growing between your legs.
He left a trail of blood and bruises as he sucked and bit his way down your body. He stops at your stomach, placing a gentle kiss on the small bump starting to form. "You're so amazing," He whispers against your skin. "Carrying our baby."
You smile down at him lovingly, running your fingers through his shaggy hair. You watch as he unbuttons your shorts and slides them down your legs along with your panties. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, mama." He whispers, trailing bloody kisses up and down your thighs.
You gasp as he runs his tongue up the length of your core. He gets to work, circling your clit with his tongue. He pushes two fingers inside you and curls, hitting you in just the right spot as he pumps them in and out of you.
"Oh my - Rafe, fuck!" You cry, reaching your hands back to grip the top of the couch as you tried to steady yourself. Wrapping your legs around his head, you're sure he's suffocating but he just seems hungrier.
You could feel the knot form in the pit of your stomach as he flicked his tongue over your clit just right. He looked up and smiled as he watched you come undone. "Cum for me, baby girl."
The vibration of his words against your most sensitive area sent you over the edge. You couldn't control the way your legs shook as squirted in Rafe's mouth. He didn't stop, swallowing everything you offered him and licking you clean, sending you into overstimulation.
You laid speechless, trying to catch your breath. Rafe looked up at you with a shit eating grin, proud of himself for making you feel so good. Knowing he's the only one that's ever made you feel that good.
He crawled back on top of you, picking you up by they hips and laying you down on the couch beneath him. He sat up, quickly undoing his belt and shorts. You watched him, still trying to catch your breath from the intense orgasm you just experienced.
"You're my girl, you know that?" He asked you, grabbing your legs and pulling you towards him. He leaned over, lips hovering above yours as he lined himself up at your entrance. "My girl. Carrying my baby. Yeah?"
He was being possessive. Dominant. His eyes were crazy and you melted under his spell. "Yours." You promised.
He wrapped his fingers in your hair, cradling your head as he pressed his forehead to you. "My family..." He whispered, pushing into you slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. "Mine."
You moaned, digging your nails into his shoulders. "I'm yours, Rafe. I'll always belong to you."
He groans into your neck as he pulls out and thrusts into you again. "Say it again,"
"I belong to you, Rafe Cameron."
He looks into your eyes as he thrusts into you harder. Small whimpers escape your lips as you stare back at him. The feeling of him inside you made you want to cry. Not in a way that it hurt, no. In the way that this was the closest you could possibly be and it still wasn't enough. The way he made your entire body tingle. The way the two of you fit together like a puzzle. It was the fact that you both knew you would absolutely die without each other. Like the world would simply stop turning if you were apart. And it was the way the love you had for one another created something new. The life growing inside you, belonged to you and Rafe and it was sacred. Something you would protect at all costs.
You didn't realize you actually were crying until Rafe's tears fell on your face. You were both crying silently as he continued to make love to you. The feeling of him sliding against your inner walls was pure ecstasy and you could feel yourself reaching your high once again.
You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist and pulled him into you. You felt his cock twitch as he spilled inside of you, your walls pulsating around him as you came too.
You both sat silently, trying to catch your breath and stop crying. Rafe cupped your cheek and placed a kiss gently on your lips before pulling out of you and rolling to your side, pulling you tightly against his chest. You were both overwhelmed with emotion. You laced your fingers between his and brought his hand to your lips, kissing his skin softly.
"I love you forever," You whisper before drifting off to sleep.
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fanaticsnail · 1 day ago
Note
All i could think about when I saw this post was the hey doc series and how flustered some of the boys would be hearing some of those key terms, like sleeper agent triggers 😂
Shut up, Captain.
Hey Doc Masterlist
Word Count: 1,900+
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Art by @thenotsofantasticlifestory. Check out Sto's other works!!
Synopsis: Wire comes into the medical bay and you're immediately springing to action. A crowd gathers at the door as they listen to you and Wire share a moment together that sounds far from innocent.
Themes: Wire x gn!reader, suggestive themes, spicy language, Kid Pirates x reader, surgery, blood, extractions, you are 'Doc' - the doctor of the Kid Pirates.
Notes: The way I cackled when I saw this ask, obsession. I didn't know which way I wanted to go with it, but I'm glad I went this way. I hope you like it too!
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“Hey Doc?” A panicked voice called from your door, “Emergency, honey. Help. It-... It's stuck.” Turning in your seat, you took one moment at the tall, hooded commander’s face and immediately dropped your jaw.
“Wire.”
“It looks worse than-.”
“-Sit in the cot, Wire,” you ordered him, immediately moving to fetch your gloves hidden in your desk drawer. Turning directly around, you drew over to your office door and flicked the latch to lock the notch fully secured as you always would before you began a serious consultation.
You flicked your gloves in your hand as you made your way over to your sterile equipment to acquire all you need to treat the larger man. Drawing them over your fingertips with haste and a smack of the ring at your wrist, you flew into action with a haste you didn't recognise.
As he drew casually over to the bay and made himself comfortable reclining against the chair, you immediately bodied his chest with your elbows to pin him back against the surface. He looked at you with wide eyes as you bore down your weight on him.
“Listen to me really carefully, Wire,” you utter softly and firmly towards him. “You need to follow every single thing I have to say, alright? Nod for me.”
The taller man did as he was told, bobbing his head gently up and down while darting his eyes between yours.
“Good job. Now hold still.”
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Stomping with heavy leather boot heels through the lengthy corridor on the Victoria Punk, Eustass Captain Kid’s amber eyes fell on an unusual sight gathered at the door to his doctor’s quarters.
Ears pressed to the door, eyes wide, bodies tense, and faces otherwise shocked: Bubblegum, Heat, Boogie, Killer, and Hop stood in momentary stasis as if frozen in fear. The only indication that there was no fear to be had was the rosy blush blooming on their faces, ears and trickling down their necks. Each person was red-faced while darting their pupils away from the door alongside leaning in closer.
“The fuck are you all do-?”
“-Shut up, Captain!” The joint hiss reverberated from the chasms of the chests and flooded from the lips of the small crowd. Kid curled his upper lip, flinching a little in shock at the immediate reaction. Arching his shoulders back and rolling his neck to relieve some tension, He took two steps forward and crouched in front of the door. Lowering his voice as he drew his eyes directly in front of Hop’s closed ones, he bore his intensity directly into her.
“What the fuck are we all doing?” he whispered softly. Hop opened her eyes but continued to stare at the door while her ears pricked up.
“Doc is domming Wire,” she hushed her tone in response. Kid’s eyes widened briefly, nudging her head out of the way to press his ear directly to the door.
"Open up more for me. Go on, I know you can stretch wider."
“Mmmmghfh-!”
“That's it, Wire. Doing so good for me. Keep it up just like that and you'll be finished soon enough.”
Kid recoiled away from the door, staring at the wood in disbelief before darting his eyes around the crew in front of him. Each of the five in front all drew up a dark blush on the skin revealed to him. Killer's flushed neck swelled as his Adams apple bobbed back a collection of saliva.
“Kil, how long have they been at this?” Kid hissed through clenched teeth at his first mate. Killer choked back a small cough and turned his mask towards Kid.
“About an hour,” the blonde responded, moving his ear towards the door and attempting to peer through the locked port in the door.
"Little bit of pressure coming up, just lay back and let me do the work," you purred affectionately at the taller commander. "I'm gonna have to push down on your tongue to keep it from flapping around too much.”
A muffled groan rose from Wire’s chest, causing the audience to internally shriek at the sentence.
“Since when does Wire get dominated?” Kid whispered down to Heat. The scarred firebreather glanced up at his captain and turned his head to the side.
“He doesn't. That's why we're all shocked as hell that it's happening-.” Heat’s voice cut off mid sentence as a particularly shuddered, keening whimper sprung up into the air from behind the door.
"Can you hold it a little longer, or do you need a break?" you asked, steady voice never wavering, "Almost there. I promise I'm really close, Wire. Just a little longer, and a tiny bit more pressure, and it'll come."
“Gods,” Boogie whispered softly, turning his head to the side and shrieking internally, “I really don't think we should be listening in on this. Kind of private-.”
“-Shut it, Boogie,” Kid whispered hurriedly, leaning in closer and listening to the sounds of soft rocking and moans from Wire expelling out. “This is a once in a lifetime thing. Didn't think Doc had it in ‘em to take on Wire, but bloody hell.”
At one more extremely loud moan, a joint sigh of relief was heard between both you and Wire. There were immediate sounds of sucking and suctioning mixed with fluids being spat into a bucket beside you both.
"Oh, so good Wire,” you praised him further, smacks of latex leaving your hands as the material fled from your skin, “Did such a good job. We got there in the end, didn't we?”
“Thanks, Doc,” Wire gasped through sputters of breath, “I'll get out of your hair now. Thanks for taking care of me, honey.” The sound of Wire’s breathy pants, his exclamation punctuated by his announcement of his next steps, and shuddered exhale caused the audience to jolt back from the door and begin to scatter throughout the hallway.
“Alright then, Wire. Just leave me with the clean up, why don't you?” you laugh over your shoulder as he unlocked the door and stepped out into the hallway. Immediately meeting with an audience of six gathered over the threshold, he took a moment to peer down at them and furrow his brows.
“What the hells are you all doing out here?” Wire queeried with his brow arched and mouth slightly swollen larger than it was earlier in the day. Each person began to ‘um’ and ‘ah’ for excuses until Kid stepped forward and began his line of questioning.
“Knew you had the hots for Doc, but didn't think you'd actually act on it.” He shrugged, peering on past Wire as you halted your clean up at your sterilization bay. “Good on you, Wire. Weird that you'd let ‘em dom you immediately. Would've thought you'd-.”
“-What the fuck, Captain?” you call, turning around with your face flushed and eyes wild with rage. “This isn't a brothel, this is a medical bay. One: if I was to take a lover, it wouldn't be in this fucking space.” You gesture to the room and begin to step towards your captain with rage in every step, “And, two: Wire was literally just sitting in a chair with his mouth open while I was fishing glass out of the inside of his cheeks.”
Eustass Kid looked from you, then to Wire who's lips parted to reveal pink-stained gauze on the inside of his lips. Before Kid had an opportunity to ask the question as to ‘why’, you immediately answered.
“Some idiot accidentally placed glass in an ice bucket on the top deck. Wire made himself a drink with it, and as soon as he took a sip, several shards of glass split the insides of his mouth,” you growled, gently shooing Wire from your space alongside the rest of the crew at the door, “Thanking the gods that he didn't swallow it, and chose to spit it as soon as he realized, but the damage was done.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” you snarled sarcastically at your loitering crowd while waving Wire on with a smile. The rest of the crowd fled the scene, Heat catching up with Wire and asking him follow up questions about the ice, and whether it was discarded before Dive got to it. Wire spoke to the best of his abilities with the gauze in his cheeks, but Heat managed to understand due to the fact that he spoke similarly when he first got his facial scars.
The only two members that remained were you and the captain, who was staring down directly at you with an unreadable expression on his face. You furrowed your brows in puzzlement, scrunching up your nose and glaring at him.
“What?” you asked with a small hint of venom in your tone. Kid took a step towards you, narrowing his eyes and judging your expression with his curiosity.
“Nothin’,” he snarled in return, lips pouting as he upturned his chin away from you, “Just sounded like you were getting cozy with the giant, is all.”
You growled up at him, taking a step forward and almost chest to chest with your captain as you bore into him with your fury. He couldn't help but then back around to face you, taken aback by your rage.
“If I did, it would not be in my medical bay for the same reason you don't take a partner in your workshop,” you snapped at him, pushing him from your door into the hallway with every step forward. “This is my space. A space where I do my job and take care of my crew. This is my sanctuary, my domain, and I will not desolate the space by claiming a lover in it. Now,” you shoved him back with your hands on his pectorals and watched as he stepped back to overemphasize your shove.
“I have a medical bay to clean and sanitize,” you whisper, taking the door in your hands and beginning to close the door, “So, do your job and get us closer to the Heart Pirates so I can switch out with them and see what their med bay is like-.” You attempted to shut the door, halted by a metal hand drawing up to grip the top of the frame.
“-Oh, come on,” he smirked down at you, tilting his head to the side and drawing his body closer, “You haven't even thought about it once?”
“No,” you utter firmly, prying the metal from your door and slapping at it, “Now do your job, and leave me to mine.” Kid chuckled at your tone of voice, lifting his metal hand up and releasing your door from his grip.
“You sure you wanna go through with this, Doc?” he asked you, his smirk leaving him and replaced by a genuine look of uncertainty, “Don't wanna lose you to them if I can help it.” His tangerine colored eyes scanned yours, darting between them as you softened your features with a sigh.
“I'd never leave you, Cap,” you reassured him, reaching your hand up and clapping him on the shoulder. Sharing a soft moment with him, neither of you speaking while he gazed down at you, you ruined the moment by whispering as intimately and quietly as you could towards him.
“Now get the fuck out of my space.”
“Aye, Doc,” he cackled, releasing the door entirely and stepping away from your medical bay, “And we'll be seeing the Polar Tang in about a day.” You nod with a smirk, closing the door in your captain’s face and returning to cleaning up the mess left behind by Wire’s accident with the glass in his drink.
Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @nerium-lil @sinning-23 @a-killer-obsession @saraptor-art
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thewritetofreespeech · 2 days ago
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Can I please request Astarion with a flirty yet oblivious plus size Tav? In the way that they do flirt because it's fun and light like their companions/friends with benefits thing, but they think that their feelings are unrequited (because of some slight insecurity about their size) until Astarion is like I actually like you and Tav is like '???' (Idk if that makes sense lol) Thank you!
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“So, Astarion, what is your actual type?”
“My ‘type’,” Astarion repeated at Shadowheart’s question as they traveled, “is such a broad prevue. I can’t think to narrow it down to just a single collection of words.”
“That’s a unique way to say you’re a trollop.”
Tav snickered at Shadowhearts retort, getting a stern glare from Astarion. “What? It was funny?”
“Pft. And here I was going to say you, my dear, but if you’re going to be so incredibly cruel.”
“Aw shucks. Always a bridesmaid I suppose.”
During their journey together, Tav had grown very fond of Astarion. He was a little shit, but deep down he was very funny and undeniably charming (although not for the ways he tried to be). The two of you had picked up a friendly banter over your time together, sometimes even flirty, but only that. And Tav was fine with that. Well aware that a handsome rake like Astarion could have his pick of the litter, and they were just happy to be considered a friend.
Later that night, while everyone was finishing their day and slinking off to bed, Astarion came over to Tav by the fire to sit with them. “You know I really meant it earlier by the way.”
“Meant what?” Tav asked. Lost, by this point, on what he was talking about.
“That you’re my….‘type’.” He seemed loathed to use the word. Even scrunched his nose. Tav just laughed.
“Yeah. Right. I’m sure.”
“No, really, I mean it.” He insisted.
“Come on Astarion, the only way you’d be interested in me is because I’m a a keg instead of a flagon.” Tav gestured to themselves and their full frame. “I have ample blood to spare.”
Astarion frowned. “Yes, your blood is certainly a bonus, but that isn’t why I care for you.” He huffed and crossed his arms dramatically. “Honestly, why does everyone think I’m not being serious when I am?” Astarion asked with a bit of flabbergast. “Is it something about my expression?”
Tav looked more than a bit flabbergasted at his remark. They didn’t really think they liked them….that way. Friends sure. Allies, of course. But romantically? “You…really have feelings for me?”
“Ugh! What is it with you new generation and wanting to put a name to everything?” Astarion bemoaned. “Feelings. Type. Can’t we just enjoy this for whatever…this is? All I know is that out of all the people in this whole wicked world I would want to be stuck with, it’s you.”
“Gee, that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.” Tav teased.
Astarion frowned again, but then leaned in close to Tav so all they could see was his piercing red eyes. “I could wax poems for you, if you’d prefer. How your eyes are the stars. How your curves are roads I would never get tired of roaming. How your ample bosom feels like a place to call home. All true, but you’re so much more to me than that.” He moved back to sit in his original spot. Wrapping his arms around his knees at his chest as he looked into the fire. “You’re the first person I’ve trusted in…well ever. You mean more to me than just your body. Though, again, that is certainly a bonus. I had hoped….you feel the same about me.”
Tav blushed, but then quickly gathered their voice and told him, “yes! Of course.”
Astarion seemed relieved. Then leaned over to give Tav a simple, sweet peck on the cheek. “Good. Now, get some sleep. We’ll probably have a completely eventful day tomorrow as well. You’ll need your beauty sleep. Not that you need it, of course. I’ll keep watch until the morning.”
Tav smiled, blushed again, and then went to their bed roll. Tentative in accepting Astarion’s confession & feelings, but hopeful it was all true. Perhaps, for once, they could really be the bride instead of the bridesmaid.
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hyuuukais · 1 day ago
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⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS
pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader
synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.
warnings ▪︎ general, cannibalism kind of, reader gets beaten up roughly, generally a pretty heavy chapter overall 🥲
MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT
CHAPTER SIX ▪︎EAT OR BE EATEN (8.3k)
"You think they'll put up a good fight? One satisfying enough?" The woman asks, her silver hair shining in the moonlight. "Last few we found were pretty disappointing."
"Eh, I'm sure they'll be good enough," The man shrugs, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. You quickly shut your eyes fully so he thinks you're still knocked out. "Besides, even if they don't last long at least we won't have to worry about feeding people for a while longer."
"I guess," She sighs. "Kinda wish we got that pretty boy you were talking about."
"This one's alright."
You hear her snort and feel a bit offended for Han; he's way more than 'alright'. Who said that? A blush creeps up your neck at the sudden question of Han's attractiveness, so you push it out of your mind.
The van jerks and comes to a sudden stop, the man clearing his throat roughly as he steps out, and you dare to open an eye. In front of you is a kind of side-of-the-road type diner crawling with people. Although the building is in rough shape, you can almost picture how it must have looked pre-apocalypse with people stopping from all over for a quick bite to eat. Your mouth waters at the thought of all the types of fried foods they likely had, not having realized how long it had been since you ate last, and your stomach growled. Han looks over at you, no longer pretending to be out cold, and you spot where he was hit in the eyebrow. The skin is split from just under his brow bone to just above the short hairs. Without much medical attention, it'll scar noticeably for sure. Dried blood covers most of his eyelid and under his eye, coming to a stop just short of his mouth.
Han is pulled out of the van before you, a pair of hands reaching in and yanking him by the collar. He stumbles, falling into the gravel driveway at someone's feet. While you're distracted, another pair of hands come for you the same way, but you're somehow able to stay upright. Balance is one of your stronger suits, along with your excellent aim that leads to a swift and accurate kick behind you, landing right between the man's legs. You smirk as you hear him grunt, but it drops from your face when you're met with another rough pair of hands pushing you against the van, hot breath on your neck and body covering your own.
"Wanna try that again?" Silence. "Didn't think so."
In your peripheral vision, you can see Han being led to the diner, but he's fighting the woman holding him and keeps trying to look in your direction. The way she's got him makes this difficult, but he keeps trying and you can hear him call out your name with a slight edge to it. You think back to when you first left town, sitting in the back of the truck and watching Han silently panic on the far end. You remember trying to distract him and the way you comforted each other. All you can see from here is his struggle, but you're sure he's experiencing something very similar now.
"Let me calm him down!" You plead, desperate. "Please, I know I can and we'll both be much more compliant after, okay?"
You feel the grip on you loosen, letting you fall to your knees. He signals for the woman to bring him over and she obliges reluctantly, shoving him in front of you. Having your hands bound makes it difficult for you, knowing that if you could just touch him, remind him he's real, it would be so much easier. But you can't, so words will have to do.
"Han?" You try. He's looking at you, but his eyes are unfocused. "Jisung?"
This seems to bring him back, eyes snapping to yours. "Y/n."
"Listen to me." You talk low. "We are going to get out of this. Even if they separate us, I'll find my way back to you. Don't lose hope, okay?"
"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Han takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. "We'll be okay."
You're about to say something else when a crackling noise comes from his back pocket- the walkie-talkie. How is it even working this far out?
"Crrk-- Han? You there? Over." It sounds, barely audible.
"What's this?" The man walks away from you and behind Han, reaching into the pocket and bringing out the device.
"Crrk-- Han? It's Seungmin. Did you find Y/n yet? You've been gone for hours, we're starting to get really worried, but you didn't hear that from me. Over --crrk."
"Seungmin?" The man speaks into the device.
"Who is this? And say 'over' when you're done, asshat --crrk."
"Who I am isn't important, but who I've got might be... to you." Even with his back facing you, you can still picture the smirk on his face as he speaks. "Over."
"You can have them." It's a new voice that takes you a moment to place- Hyunjin. Dread pools in your belly. "Crrk-- we don't --crrk-- anyway. Do what you --crrk-- want. Over."
"Sounds like your end is dying, too bad. Not for me, I was gonna destroy this thing anyway. Here's a sign your people are still alive before I cut the line." The man shoves the walkie-talkie in your face. "Talk."
Part of you doesn't want to and the other part straight up can't, voice stuck in your throat. Speaking would prove what he wants, leading the others to you if they're able to find out where you are. With both Seungmin and Jeongin's map skills combined, they'd be here in no time and it'd be all your fault when you watch each of them die one by one at the hands of these people. Why kill others when the infected are already doing it for you? You don't understand. In an act of defiance, which you'll surely later regret, you spit at his feet.
"You don't want to talk? Fine, have it your way. Niko?" The woman yanks your head back by your hair, pressing the tip of a blade to your throat. As he thumbs over the button, 'Niko' digs deeper, running it down from your jaw to your collarbone. She makes it down an inch or so before you cry out in pain. This is what they want, and the knife is taken away.
"Y/n?" It's Hyunjin again. "Y/n! You're okay- you scared the shit out of us and-"
His voice dies out with a crunch, bits of plastic ground up under the man's boot, the little bit of hope you had in the back of your throat dying with it. Not that you want them to find you, not here where the people are more dangerous than the zombies and where your small group would be severely outnumbered and overpowered. There's a tinge of guilt sitting inside you for that small part that did want to be found, wanting to be rescued and taken away from the horrors of this place so far.
With another pull of your hair, the dread is beginning to overflow. Stray hairs fly into your face as you're marched inside the diner. To the left are about five or six trailers parked with people lounging around, seemingly unaware of the apocalypse. They drink and they laugh and someone's barbequing- your stomach growls again at the smell.
"Hungry?" The man asks, but you don't answer, keeping your eyes ahead as you walk inside. "Don't worry, you'll be eating good soon. We feed our guests, need you strong."
Surprisingly gently, you're placed on a stool by the counter of the diner, two stools between you and Han. Glancing over, you catch his eye and don't let go until there's a plate in front of you with meat steaming fresh from the grill, a couple of small, chopped-up vegetable on the side. Your hands are unbound for you to eat, given a plastic fork and knife. Obviously, they don't trust you with anything else, but you're also so used to eating with your fingers that you forgot utensils were a thing in the first place, putting the piece of meat down and picking up the fork. The meat leaves a strange aftertaste in your throat, and your stomach turns as you swallow the last piece. Something isn't right, but you don't even want to ask.
"Put 'em away in the empty trailer. Tonight they can stay together under supervision before we start our fun in the morning." The woman's words worry you, but you don't think about them too long, drowsiness settling in.
God knows how long it's been since you last slept, too preoccupied with taking care of Chan after the hospital. Even when you weren't the one keeping watch, you were too on edge because of everything that happened with Hyunjin, tossing and turning for the hour you were supposed to be resting. The trailer they put you in is on the smaller side, counters bare and only one pull-out couch still folded into itself. Neither the man nor the woman who abducted you were watching over for the night, but another shorter woman with a large gun. She picks at her teeth with a wooden toothpick, leaning against the counter after pulling the couch out. She gestures you to step forward and you do, her hands quickly unbounding yours for the second time. Next, she unties Han and pushes both of you to the couch.
"Sleep." She says.
"But- it's kind of small..." Han's voice turns quiet, the woman glaring at him. "I mean, it's perfect. Um, Y/n? I can sleep on the floor if you want instead."
"No, no, don't." You shake your head. "I will."
"Both of you shut up and sleep on the bed," She snaps. "We need you ready for tomorrow."
"What exactly is happening tomorrow?" You ask, rubbing your wrists. They sting from where the rope sliced into the skin.
"No one told you?" Her eyebrows raise at your blank expressions. "You're going to be fighting in the arena."
"Arena?" Han tilts his head in confusion.
"With zombies. They really didn't tell you?" She scoffs, taking a seat on top of the counter. "Whatever, not my job to say anything, so just go to bed." With a smirk, she adds, "And maybe say a prayer."
Nothing else would have been less comforting to hear.
-
Sleep doesn't come easy, restless turning and maneuvering your body so as to not wake Han, if he was even asleep. His back is turned to you when your eyes settle on him, giving up on sleep entirely. The window above the pull-out couch is covered by blinds, but a piece is chipped and you can see into the starry night sky, fingers coming up to fiddle with your necklace. For the first time that night, Han stirs. Suddenly you're face to face with him, looking at each other with sad eyes.
"Can't sleep?" He whispers, barely audible to avoid being heard by the woman watching over you. You're sure she's stopped paying attention hours ago.
"No," You whisper back, turning fully on your side.
There's a lack of space between you, noses almost touching and breath mingling. Despite the apocalypse, Han still manages to have a tinge of mint in his breath, and you know it's from the mint leaves he collects in a tin. The scent is faded, probably from one he was chewing when he found you, but it brings a little comfort from before.
"C'mere," He stretches an arm out. "You look cold."
And you are, you realize, goosebumps prickling at your skin as you shuffle closer in the dark. His body is warm, enveloping you in a hug and burying your face into his neck. From here, you can hear and feel his heartbeat, the steady rhythm present in your cheek. You sigh, taking in this one normal moment between you two. Neither of you know what will happen in the morning, only that whatever it is, it's not going to be good. Hell, you might not live past the 'event'. As long as you can somehow get Han out of here, you don't think you care.
-
Morning comes quicker than expected, having managed to find sleep in Han's arms. Rough hands drag you from not-so-sweet dreams, tying your hands back up and leading you out toward the diner. Once again, you're separated from Han as he's led off in a different direction around the back of the building. You catch a glimpse when you're shoved through the diner doors, pushed behind the counter, and brought to the kitchen. Right before you enter the kitchen, you take a look through the back windows and spot what must be the arena; a wooden oval built by this group, or so you assume. There are bleachers with spectators already sitting on them, and you spot Han. The man who has him opens a door on one end of the oval, shoving him inside, and you can only hope he'll be okay.
The kitchen tiles are cold, and you're being bound to metal shelving closer to the back. You have no idea what's to come, but the man who brought you here comes into view, grabbing your face and bringing it up to meet his eyes. He says nothing, just moves your head from left to right, making a noise of approval. With a pat to the cheek, he straightens his back and stretches, cracks loud in the otherwise silent room.
"You ever wonder what it's like to turn? To lose control of your body and senses, lose sense of yourself in every meaning?" He kneels to eye level with you. "Because you're about to find out once your little friend is done in there. Unless you want to join us?"
"And why would I do that?" You spit.
"We know how to be immune." He says, voice shallow. Your eyes widen; there's no way to become immune, you know that. "Ah, you don't believe me? Well, you see here, there was a time me and my crew weren't as big, as powerful. We became desperate, and you know what they say." He lifts his hands in air quotations. "'Desperate times call for desperate measures'. It's true, but then we discovered something huge."
"Are you going to tell me what it is, or are you going to sit here and spew bullshit about how amazing you are?" You roll your eyes.
His eyes narrow at your words. "Feisty."
"Whatever." You mumble.
"The trick is to eat or be eaten." He says, standing back to his full height. "It's like building an immunity to an allergy. Eat enough of it, it'll stop affecting you." He starts to walk away, pausing at the swinging door with a look over his shoulder. "Makes you wonder what you've eaten."
About an hour or so later, Han is harshly thrown into your sight line. There's a new rip in the shoulder of his light green t-shirt over his chest, and you catch a glimpse of the shallow wound underneath, no doubt from the zombies the woman mentioned to you. Before you can say anything to him, you're pulled away, everything happening too quickly. Fresh air hits you with a chill, although not from the temperature. Han didn't look too bad, only a little beat up, and he wasn't expected to make it out either, so the challenge must not be so hard? Right?
As you circle to the side of the arena with the door for challengers, you notice other locked doors blending into the wooden sides. You're placed in complete darkness as the door is shut behind you, left to wonder what you'll face on the other side. It takes a few moments, but the door leading to the inside is lifted upward, sun burning your eyes temporarily. Holding a hand up to block the sudden light, you step out and people cheer loudly. You look up to see someone holding the door up from the bleachers by a long rope, noticing matching doors lined up the inner walls of the arena. There's no guessing what lies behind them, obviously the zombies as the grass field is clear of threats. Inside the arena is bigger than it looks from the outside, a wide stretch of patchy grass ahead of you. One door on the far end opens, and your suspicions are confirmed as a zombie comes tumbling out. It spots you instantly, darting toward you with a surprisingly quick pace.
No weapons, no backup- all you have are your fists. With a wide stance, you prepare to take it down, thinking back to fighting Seungmin on the mats. Sweat drips down your back; you were never as good as him in a fistfight. The infected rapidly approaches, but when it swings for you, the movement is sluggish and tired, a low groan emitting from the being.
"That all you got?" You dodge another attack, landing a kick in it's back and knocking it down.
Wrapping an arm around its neck, you pull back and hear it choke. The arms twist behind to grab you, but you step down on each limb, effectively straddling the infected. Too distracted by killing this one, you don't notice another zombie has been released behind you until the whiny moan that erupts from its throat signals its approach. At the last second you can be sure the one you're on is dead, you push yourself forward and somersault, creating room between you and the second one as it swings for you. It lands on top of the other body; this is too easy. Two are released at the same time now, easy enough to take down on your own. The problem is when the last four are brought out.
When you were alone taking down groups of three or four at the house, you had your knives to help you, but here? And, of course, they're the doors closest to you, taking even less time to reach you than the previous ones. The problem- you're getting tired. The rough night of sleep, the lack of food in your belly, the emotional drainage; it's all catching up to you now.
You run to the opposite side of the arena, testing the wood at the base. It doesn't break, ruining your plan to take the jagged piece and stick it through their skulls. Turning around, you're faced with two out of four hungry faces, eager to taste you. Taking the one on the left first, you circle around and let it come to you. It stumbles, limps, drool runs down its face. But you notice it hasn't moved its arms at all, not once since following you- they don't work. You knew paralyzation was possible with the zombie virus, you just had yet to see it in person. When it gets close enough, you grab the arms and use them as support as you kick up to its chest, successfully breaking the weak ribs and hollowing it out with your foot. The zombie falls to the ground; your foot still in its chest, and you take it out with a squelch. Reaching into the gooey blood, you pull a sharpened rib out.
The second and third are closer now, but you're more than prepared to take them on now. You grab another two broken ribs, hoping they're strong enough to pierce skin. The right one lurches forward with sudden force, but you're quicker and use the advantage of its awkward movements to drive one rib into the back of its neck- the crowd boos. The other takes a hold of your arm, but you pull away and out of its grip, leaving you with an angry, red scratch mark. Without much thought, you dig another rib into its eye.
As you're getting ready to kill the last one, a whistle blows over the crowd. You look around confused, wondering why the bleachers are being emptied. Someone comes out onto the field with a metal claw type thing, attempting to wrangle the last remaining infected. They've thoroughly pissed you off, so you decide it's time for a small taste of payback. Before the claw can wrap around the neck of the zombie, you run up and stick the last rib into the side of the throat. When it drops, you spot the guy with the claw's shoulders dropping with a heavy sigh.
-
"Tonight, we are celebrating our first ever champions of the arena!" The man who kidnapped you stands on the counter in the diner, holding up an unlabeled bottle containing a dark liquid. "No one has made it past that little event, but these two sure put up a fight. To- shit, what are your names again?" You open your mouth to answer, but he speaks again. "Ehh, who cares? To them!"
Everyone in the diner cheers, or almost everyone. Niko is in a booth in the corner staring daggers into his back as he steps down with some help from two others. He's walking over to your booth by the front door to hand you both a bottle, each matching his, and a hard hit on the back. Nearly choking on your drink, you put a hand against the table and swallow the bitter taste as he watches, giving him a weak smile and a thumbs up.
"That's homemade," He says, sticking his chest out with pride. "My own recipe, in fact. Listen, tonight you can stay in that same trailer, but we won't watch you. Of course, we have to take precautions and lock you in, but hey! A bit more privacy to do whatever you want!"
With a wink directed at Han, he leaves to sit at the table with Niko. You see her lean back and cross her arms as he approaches, huffing as he starts to talk. Their conversation is drowned out by the chatter happening around you; you're surprised no infected are swarming the place with how loud it is. Han takes a swig of his drink, making a face as he swallows, and you can't help but laugh.
"It's bad-" You say as he puts down the drink.
"It's really bad-" He agrees, sliding the bottle to the edge of the table.
There's a moment of normality between you, the absurd situation you're in running to the furthest corner of your brain as you share a laugh and a bad drink with someone whom you might dare to call a friend. No one bats an eye when you drop your bottle, only having a broom handed over by a gruff man who was previously sitting behind the counter serving people. After cleaning up the shards of broken glass, you decide maybe that's enough excitement for tonight when you stumble walking to the trash can sitting next to a broken jukebox on the wall opposite from you.
A hand comes up to hold you up as your own hits the wall, taking a second before moving away to see Han looking down at you. He's close, closer than you think you've ever been with him, and his hands are warm on your body. There's a small smile creeping onto your face that you can't hide when his arm wraps around your shoulders and guides you out into the chilly air. You didn't realize how cold it was getting recently, crisp air seizing your lungs for a brief moment. The trailers seem to get both closer and further away with each step, sounds of the diner becoming more muffled as you go. Once inside the trailer, you kick your boots off and flop onto the bed stomach first while Han clicks the door shut behind you. Old springs digging into your every body part has never felt so good.
You survived another day! Tomorrow feels light years away as you burrow your head into a limp pillow, sighing happily. Maybe this is what you needed- something to wake you back up from the defeat that's been consuming you, something to sharpen your brain and your instincts like training did. You can picture yourself here now, fighting more pet zombies if they'll let you, belly full with the never-ending supply of food they seem to have, thirst quenched by the homemade alcohol you're sure will kill you if you have too much. Here, you aren't a burden anymore. You're a champion, a warrior, someone to look up to and fear. No more worrying the others and having them think you'll get them all killed.
"I think I could get used to this." You talk into the night, forgetting about the man sitting by the foot of the bed.
Han looks over your weary body, hand hovering over your head as he debates moving the stray hairs away and examining your now near sleeping face. Pulling away, he places his hands in his lap. The scrape on his chest burns slightly, but the buzz of the drinks dulls the pain both physically and mentally.
"They're gonna make us fight again tomorrow," He says quietly.
You sit up, his words instantly sobering you up. "They are? How do you know that?"
"Niko told me after dragging my ass out of the arena. Didn't give any details though." Han takes his place next to you, stretching his sore body. "Don't die."
"You have so little faith in me." You scoff, but lie next to him with a smile on your face.
-
Morning arrives sooner than you would have liked, sunbeams shining through the cracks of the broken blinds above the pull-out couch you lie on next to Han. At some point during the night, your limbs became entangled in each other, one of his legs between yours, your own hugging his tightly. His arm is thrown across your shoulders, holding you against his chest, and your left hand is holding his wrist. You can feel the rise and fall of his breathing against your back, and for a moment it feels like everything is fine. What's the apocalypse when you have someone you trust holding you like he's scared you'll be gone when he opens his eyes?
When did you start trusting Han Jisung?
The moment of serenity is broken by Niko banging on the side of your trailer, entering with no warning, and dragging you both out of bed. You want to laugh at the way Han's hair is sticking up and the way his cheeks are puffed out in annoyance, but you know better than to do that in her presence. There's a chill in the air as you step out and walk toward the diner, goosebumps rising all over your skin. Winter is coming soon, and you hope you'll be somewhere warm when it hits full force.
"You, take him to the back. You know the drill." Niko hands Han off to the shorter woman who watched over you the night before and she nods, shoving Han through the doorway.
Niko leads you around to the arena and you see people are already starting to gather. Excitement is palpable, making you nervous to see what's in store today. Yesterday wasn't like this; there wasn't the same kind of anticipation, but today is something new. You assumed last night that people don't tend to live past the first round, a reason for the celebration, and now they have to be creative when trying to kill you.
The door shuts behind you loudly. You start giving yourself a bit of a pep talk, expecting to be met with a large group of zombies once the gate is lifted, but instead, you see a large wall. Standing up straighter, you notice there's a fork, you can head either left or right. You let a hand trail against the wall as you turn right, met with more twists and turns the deeper you go. You're in some kind of homemade labyrinth. After a few more turns, you stumble into a zombie, right into a zombie. It has you pinned against the ground and you're starting to understand how this round is going to go as you flip over and grip its neck. Something about this zombie is oddly familiar, and then the recognition hits you. He's someone you saw in the audience during the first round.
When you glanced up nearing the end to see people leave, you noticed one pair of people stay put. An older man with a boy younger than you, the boy's eyes wide with fear as he watched you rip the rib bones out of an infected. How many more rounds did these people set up after you and Han? And how many others survived? Considering they only celebrated you and Han, you're guessing the answer is none. Including the boy under you, now lying still as you pant above him. There's something tucked into his waistband glinting in the sun, revealed to you as you stand and his flannel is pushed off his side. A knife.
"Holy fuck!" You squeal, ripping it out of his pants.
It's a basic steak knife, but way better than having nothing, and you've always been better with weapons than with your bare hands, as proven by Seungmin time and time again on the training mats. An aching pang hits you as you reminisce, missing Seungmin more than you thought you did. There's been a whole day since you last saw or heard from him, longer than you've ever gone without him. You imagine he's doing much better than you right now, still having Jeongin and the others to keep him occupied. They must still be at the country house, Chan too wounded to move. Hyunjin's adrenaline has probably worn off by now, weary and in need of medication and care provided by your resident doctors. Or, in Felix's case, resident doctors in training.
Continuing on through the labyrinth, you slaughter more zombies you come across, groups varying in size. Some are alone like the first boy, and others are clustered in duos or trios. After what feels like forever, you collapse at the entrance of what looks to be the middle of the maze. Your mouth is dry, begging for water, and your stomach rumbles as you lean against the wall and wipe sweat from your forehead. It's been hours, you think, hours since they locked you in this maze to be tortured by infected, and by your own mind as well. Thinking of Seungmin unlocked all kinds of feelings you've been trying to shove away. Missing him, missing Minho, feelings of hurt and sadness from what Hyunjn said to you. Regret for not letting Seungmin bring you back and for causing Han to be caught up in all of this with you. You're fighting back tears as you crawl toward a podium in the centre of the circle you've entered.
The podium is simple, solid dark wood splintering along the edges with a key lying on top. You figure you're supposed to take this, tucking it into your pants pocket. Where the key goes, you'll find out. There are four exits out of the circle of grass you stand in, the one you're facing leading back to where you came from. You turn around, assuming this must be the way to go, but are stopped by zombies shuffling out. You're feeling weak, using the podium to keep you up as they come closer and closer. As one reaches you, you fling yourself to the side and let it hit the piece of wood, hard enough you hear a crack, and roll around to see a split in the side where the worse of the splintering is. A jagged piece comes out on an angle, stabbing the infected in the leg. The other four are approaching quickly, and you barely escape one about to pin you to the ground. Using the force of the roll to push up, you slip your knife into your hand and stab the closest one in the neck, blood spilling onto you and soaking the dark material of your t-shirt.
With one zombie seemingly stuck on the podium and another crawling around on the ground disoriented, you're at an advantage now. There are only two actively after you, you can take them down easily, but the ache in your stomach has you hesitant. You're close enough to the exit you want to run, but once you're through, you won't know where to go and they could easily catch up and surprise you. If you take out two now, you only risk the others following you if they can, and whatever else lies in the remaining corridors. Taking up your knife again, you decide killing two now will be more beneficial, even if your body is protesting every step you make. One lashes out, catching you in the arm, but it barely scrapes you and you're able to grab the arm and twist, breaking the bone. The zombie makes a strangled groan kind of noise as you yank it toward you, pulling the same move you did with the first one. This time, you back away before the majority of its blood showers you, the body dropping down to its knees and then to its stomach, a pool of red created in the grass. Chest heaving, you're about to face the other when it grabs your sides, and you only just grasp the back of its head by the hair before its head descends on your neck, muscles in your shoulder aching.
Nails dig into your side and you cry out in pain, feeling a warm, wet sensation wash down your body. Your knife falls out of your hand and you're starting to think this is it, you're going to die in this arena built by sadists, all watching as teeth get closer and closer to your most vulnerable spot. Trying to kick behind you, it only causes its mouth to get closer and soon enough you can feel them on your neck, waiting eagerly to be able to push down and take the perfect bite out of fresh meat.
By a stroke of luck, you manage to land a kick hard enough onto its knee to make it sink down, grip releasing your bleeding side. The hand previously holding the zombie's head flies down, pressing into the wound and limping closer to the exit without looking back. You hope the kick was enough to incapacitate it, not daring to delay another second of getting out of here. Without the steak knife, you feel naked, defenseless. Any infected you run into going forward will have the upper hand now that you're injured too, leaving the occasional bloody handprint on the wall as you wander through the twists and turns specially created for you. You're starting to lose hope of getting out when you see one of your handprints, taking the other corridor left instead of right like you did previously. The wall you hit is a dead end, but you can tell it's the arena wall instead of part of the maze. Using the hand not holding your blood in, you brush your fingers over the painted wood and feel a ridge in the otherwise smooth wall, about the size of a lock.
You bring out the key and match it up to the indent, pushing it in and turning. When you hear a click, you use the key to help open the door out. On the other side is Han, waiting to enter the maze.
-
Han returns hours later when the sun has already set, entering your trailer and leaning against the closed door. You're on the pull-out couch under a rough, worn blanket, trying not to move too much and cause your stitches to rip. After you'd gotten out, you were brought inside the diner to be assessed, Niko making quick work of your injury before sending you off with a paper plate of meat and rice. The paper plate sits abandoned on the counter by the door, only half of the food eaten. You were in too much pain to finish the meal.
Sliding down the door, Han puts his head in his hands, fingertips reaching past his hairline and rubbing his scalp. When his body starts shaking, first his shoulders, then the rest follow, you know he thinks you're already asleep as he lets himself break. You've never seen him so vulnerable, so weary, and it feels wrong to watch him cry and cry and cry. So you close your eyes, allowing the heaviness in your own chest to bring you to sleep.
When you wake, Han is tucked under a different holey blanket on the opposite side of the couch, his back facing you. As much as you want to reach out and comfort him, tell him everything will be okay, you don't want him to know you witnessed him in the flesh last night, and you don't want to lie to him either. You don't know that everything will be okay, you can't tell the future. Staring at his back, you want to reach out and trace a finger down his spine, rub circles into his shoulder blades, anything just to touch him. Maybe you're deprived, maybe you're starting to like him.
Late morning is when they take you back to the arena, but they don't separate you from Han this time. He gives you one last look over his shoulder as they lead him to the other side, and you can't help but wonder what they're going to make you do today. You weren't celebrated again last night, feeling the growing impatience within the group about how you and Han keep winning the challenges they've thrown at you despite the odds. Are they going to make you fight each other? Finally force one of you to die? Or will this be an execution of sorts?
"What's on the menu today?" You try a light tone, giving the man behind you a small smirk.
"You are." And you're hit by something hard, effectively knocking you out.
-
You come to with blurry vision, the side of your head pounding from the force of whatever he hit you with. Blinking, your vision returns slowly and you spot Han on the other side, not too far from where you sit- fuck. You're chained to a metal post, handcuffs rubbing at the skin on your wrists that have only just recovered from your trip to the hospital. Han is in the same situation, but he hasn't regained consciousness yet. There's a drip of blood going down his cheek, nothing too major, but the wound on his eyebrow from his rescue attempt has opened back up. In between you are two zombies, each with collars around their necks connecting to a chain held by someone behind them. At first, you're unsure why they aren't trying to feast on the ones closer to them, why they're so focused on you and Han specifically, then you notice the blood and guts drenching the two people holding the infected back.
Smart, I guess, you think. They can't smell the difference between you and themselves.
The chains loosen ever so slightly, causing the zombie to get closer to you. Upon further examination, you can see a key dangling around its neck; it has to be for the handcuffs you're wearing. The chains around your ankles are looser, and you try to kick them off as the zombie continues to slowly be released. At this point, Han has woken up and seems to be struggling with unbounding his wrists, but you already knew that was a lost cause from how tightly the cuffs are digging into you. After more struggling, you figure out how they've encased your legs, realizing they didn't tie anything down, only wrapping them around several times. You can see the loose ends hanging down if you lift your legs. If only you could just...
"There!" You kick the chains off, the space between you and the zombie smaller than ever. "Han! Go for the-"
"No helping!" One of the guys in the middle bark at you.
Rolling your eyes, you lift your legs and make eye contact with Han. He seems to understand, frantically trying to wriggle his legs free. You're not sure there's enough time for him to get them untied before his zombie gets to him, less space between them than you and your own personal zombie. You wait patiently for it to get closer to execute your plan, the crowd starting to boo, thinking you've given up. You haven't, but they don't need to know that. Once close enough, you twist your legs around it, kicking it as it falls, and sitting up flat against the pole that holds you to avoid its head falling near any body parts. It lands near your feet, exactly where you want it, and you place a foot on either side of its head and- crunch. Break its neck. Using the lower half of your body, you bring it up and lean forward as much as you can. It's difficult, and the pull on your wrists hurts like hell, already feeling the new slices deepening with every centimetre. Sweat runs down your nose in the hot sun, dripping down onto the body between your legs as you use your teeth to bite down on the necklace holding your key, ripping it off with every bit of force you can muster.
Now, the even more difficult part. If you fuck up throwing this behind your shoulder, it's over, for you and Han. Looking up for a brief moment, you can see he's gotten his feet and legs loose, but his zombie is gaining on him, mouth snapping at him as he backs up.
"Come on, Y/n," You mumble, mouth full with the necklace. "Do this right. Don't mess anything else up for once."
A leap of faith, a stroke of luck, a well-directed toss, whatever, the key lands right beside your hands when you sit back, taking only a second to be blinded by pain, forcing yourself to feel for the metal. Once you've grabbed it with bloody fingers, you bend your hand almost unnaturally to unlock yourself. A rush tingles your hands and fingers, curling them in and out to regain any lost feeling before standing on shaky legs. Han is holding his zombie back with his legs on its chest, kicking outward, and it slips on the grass. As you jog over, he starts kicking its head as it continues to crawl toward him.
"Oh no you don't!" You shout, giving a swift kick to the head of the zombie, and it rolls onto its back.
Someone is yelling, but you're too focused on Han to notice. He's breathing heavily, obviously tired from holding his legs up for so long. You manage to get the key into the lock before you're yanked back by the neck of your t-shirt, Han doing the rest and pushing whoever grabbed you away in seconds. This earns him a punch to the jaw and he falls, hand holding his face. You turn around to see one of the guys covered in guts, and he looks angry.
"What was the one thing I said, bitch?" He grabs you by the neck, but not too tightly and you grin.
"I don't know, bitch, couldn't really hear over the zombie trying to eat me." You say, not thinking.
Oh, you've done it now. His grip on your neck gets tighter, constricting your breathing to nearly nothing, but lets go as his eyes focus on something behind you.
"No hurting the contestants unless I say so." The man, who you still don't know the name of, places a hand on his shoulder. "That is... unless you want a spot in the show?"
"N-no, sir," He stutters, shaking his head.
You rub your neck with one hand, kneeling next to Han who's still half on the ground. Reaching up, you pull his hand away and check his jaw. There's a bruise forming already as you gently thumb over the mark, making eye contact with him as you do. Your breathing hitches, thumb stopping and heart racing.
"Little lady." A hand comes to grab you under the arm, bringing you back to a standing position. You're getting real sick of that nickname. "Come with me." He leads you to the end with the exit, face close to your ear. "You heard the man, you weren't supposed to help your boy. Do you know what we do to rule breakers here?"
"No," You whisper, unsure if you want to hear the answer.
"First, we make sure you understand what you did wrong," He chuckles, and a feeling of unease settles in your stomach. "Then, you get to meet our undead friends." He pushes you through the doors of the diner, bringing you to a small room you haven't seen with a barren desk and broken chair. "Last is the best part." He lets go of you harshly, sending you into the desk with a cough. "Then, we eat you. Now, allow me to start the process."
Before you can register, he's landing a hard kick with the heel of his boot straight into your nose, effectively breaking it and causing your head to hit back against the wood you're sitting against. Immediately, your vision blurs, and the taste of copper fills your mouth, and the scent, your nose. He picks you up by the throat, slamming you face down against the top of the desk and you feel the bottom of your shirt lift. A cold, metal blade traces what's exposed of your spine, as if choosing the perfect spot to stab you. It trails to the side and digs in slowly, agonizingly, but you're thankful he chose somewhere non-lethal. You're not at the stage of getting killed yet, only tortured. Not that that's good either, but hey, you still have a chance of getting out of this. The blade is all the way in now, and he pulls it out just as slowly. Once it's out, you take the opportunity to flip over and push away from the desk, forehead making contact with his own.
With a groan, he stumbles back and rubs his forehead. "You little shit. I'm gonna-"
He cuts himself off, head snapping toward the door behind him and the noise behind it. There's shouting, gunfire, you name it. He makes his way to the door, pausing and walking back to you before stepping out.
"We're not done here." He shoves you onto the ground again, landing a swift kick to your ribs and you feel something crack. "Got it?"
When you don't answer, he kicks you again, this time under the chin. "I asked you a question."
"G...got it." You cough out.
He scoffs, giving you a dirty look as he leaves the room. Everything is fading for you, the sounds of chaos, the taste of your own blood in your mouth. A trembling hand comes up to touch the charm on your necklace lying under your shirt, eyes fluttering shut. You know you shouldn't give in to the feeling of oncoming sleep, but it would be so very peaceful.
A door opens in the distance hard enough to hit the wall. Next thing you feel are hands on your body, on your face. Hands that shake you awake and bring you into someone's lap. Someone who wipes the blood from your face despite the fact it won't stop anytime soon, someone who picks you up bridal style and whispers; I've got you.
All is going well until Han is tackled outside the diner, and you roll away from the two fighting bodies. Your eyes are open slightly, watching Han get punched by the same man who was going to kill you, but he's stronger than you were in the moment and flips their positions. Han still has no weapon, so you watch as he uses his fists to repeatedly hit the man until he's no longer moving. Even then, he doesn't stop, and that's when you notice the tears streaming down his face. Arms reach out and pull Han away, holding him close as his hands are held in front of him, blood running down from the knuckle, a mixture of his own and from the body he's straddling. A flash of blond hair and you can tell it's Felix holding him, comforting him in the midst of fighting around you. It's hard to make out who everyone is, but you vaguely see Seungmin using his new baseball bat to beat anyone who comes near you three, and Chaeryeong must be shooting from somewhere behind you because bodies are dropping like it's nobody's business. They all found you. They all came to rescue you.
One hand touches your cheek, turning you to face the owner and you lock eyes with Hyunjin. You can't speak, but you give him a weak smile. The moment doesn't last long as Hyunjin is gently pushed away and you're being carried again. This time, you can look up at Han and admire the determination on his face as he lies you down in the backseat of the pickup truck, closing the door and circling around to sit on the other side with your head in his lap. You can kind of feel the car start, but mostly, you're focused on Han's warm fingers brushing through the loose parts of your hair.
You might die in this truck, but at least you'll die in the lap of someone you care for, and who cares for you. You won't die alone like you thought you would in that room, at the hands of that vicious man. You're bleeding out onto the seat, but you can't find it in you to care anymore. You just want it all to be over.
---
notes ▪︎ i forgor how heavy this chapter was
─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @manuosorioh @hanjisunglover @xxstrayland @puppyminnnie @hanjsquokka @kpopsstuffs @ot8girlfie @quokkabite @linoslawayslinos @reapers-lover @hannieslittlerockstar @kiki0113 @nishiriks @nxtt2-u @moonlightjam @hannieslovebot @minmininnie
green means i can't tag you
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zigrethsnotebook · 3 days ago
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[INVERTED KISS]
Bill x Reader
words: 864
tags: sfw, Bill developed a crush on you and hates it
a/n: sort of a continuation of [FOOT KISS] but not really important
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“Sparky~!” The demon called out the pet name he had chosen for you and your stomach dropped. This couldn’t be anything good. Bill appeared in front of you, his body shrinking to a smaller version of him, smaller than you even. You furrowed your brows in confusion - he’d never done that before.
“All my maniacs are out for the next couple of hours, so we’re all alone… do you know what that means?” You shook your head ‘no’. His tone was more playful than usual, he seemed to be in a good mood. Still, it was hard to agree with him that you were ‘alone’ considering the literal mountain of people behind him he had sculpted into a throne.
“Hmm…,” he pretended to be thinking, tapping his index finger to where a chin might be. “Well, I’ve been browsing through your mind while you were sleeping-” Oh, god. He can do that? Your blood ran cold at the thought. “-and I saw that you were really into this spider-man guy when his movies came out.”
Your eyes widened. If he knew that then he also knew how much you were afraid of spiders - the animal. Internally, you begged that he wouldn’t cover you in spiders or something like that, just to laugh at you. His one eye never left your face, always scanning for every little reaction to his words. He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Either way, I decided we should recreate that scene you daydreamed about so often! Wouldn’t that be fun?” Before you could protest or even process his words, he had already snapped his fingers, conjuring two new chains that wrapped around your ankles and lifted you up into the air. A yelp escaped your lips at the sudden movement and you heard Bill chuckle.
Once your body had settled in the air you realized what he was suggesting. “Wait. The kiss?” The demon flew up to your face, locking eyes with you. “Was there a different scene you daydreamed about? Maybe I should take another look…” He floated a little closer and you gasped. “No!” Bill chuckled, floating backwards a couple of inches. “Yeah, I’m just messing with ya, Sparky.”
You sighed in relief, already feeling a little feeble form hanging upside down. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still going to kiss ya.” “What? Why?” And exactly how was he planning to do that without a mouth? “Because! You humans! Are always going on and on about kissing and being in love and all that nonsense. And I… I want to know what I’m rejecting.”
He… frowned? Bill seemed disheartened somehow. Was he serious? “Why me?” The words left your lips before you could think better of it. He locked eyes with you again. “Because you’re the only human who’s any fun to be around,” he admitted in a quieter tone. A blush formed on your cheeks. Must be because you’ve been hanging upside down for so long, with all your blood running to your head, you decided.
“So I… I mean it’s not like I care what you want or don’t want or whatever,” he argued, clearly trying to come to terms with wanting this himself. “But, like… can I?” His voice was so quiet, you almost didn’t catch it over the sound of your ears buzzing. This time there was no denying why you were blushing. How were you falling for him? He’s a demon!!
“Yes.” You breathed the word but Bill’s eye widened immediately. He floated closer to you again, his eye turning into a mouth in a horrific transformation that would surely come back to haunt you. When it had fully transformed, aside from his eyelashes that were still attached to his lips (which would surely make this even weirder) he began closing the gap between you two.
Bill’s eyelashes-turned-beard(?) lightly grazed your lips causing you to gasp. His little bowtie was touching the tip of your nose. It was so much weirder than you’d thought it would be. But, if only for the sake of not passing out from hanging upside down, you also wanted this to be over as quickly as possible.
His hands were surprisingly soft against your jaw as he guided your face towards his. When your lips met you felt a tingling sensation in them, and you didn’t care to find out whether you were imagining it or he was doing that on purpose.
You sighed into the kiss. Against your better judgment, you were enjoying this. It was a nice change of pace from the chaos that surrounded you every day. Right now, it was only your lips against his, with fine hairs tickling your chin and too much blood in your head to think straight.
When Bill broke the kiss you kept your eyes closed a second longer, so you wouldn’t have to see the transformation again, and totally not because the kiss had left you slightly dizzy.
Without another word he slowly and carefully brought you back on the ground, right side up and all. The chains on your ankles vanished and so did Bill. You didn’t see him again for the rest of the day.
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liminalpebble · 1 day ago
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The Spoils of War (An Emperor Geta and Coriolanus Crossover)
AO3 Link
Emperor Geta x slave girl reader x Coriolanus
CW: sexual slavery non/dub con, talk of violence and blood, Minors DNI
(Build up, the truly nasty, hide-your-face-from-the-lord, smut is in the next part).
AN: Hello, friends. Welcome to the depraved crossover nastiness we've all been waiting for. I thought this would just be one chapter, but it's looking like a two-parter for now. It should go without saying that this will absolutely not be historically accurate in any way, shape, or form. I swear to god, I actually am highly educated. I studied Shakespeare and Latin and the Roman Empire extensively but, fam, THAT IS NOT WHAT WE'RE HERE FOR. We're here to be whores. So without further ado...
Chapter 1: The Victor Returns
Your wide eyes take in the vast marble hall, the gold embellishments, and the lights of dozens of flickering lamps reflected off of shiny fabric, statues and bodies; so many bodies, squirming, gasping, undulating, and rutting like animals. You sit nervously on your cushion at Geta's feet, beside his gilded throne, seeing but hardly believing the scene around you.
Geta had plucked you, like a delicate flower, from your little village mere days ago. Those few days had taught you so much about the flesh, about hedonism, and about how absolutely obsessed the insane young emperor is with corrupting you. This first attendance at one of his famously debauched orgies is only the latest lesson of your education.
A deep, filthy laugh beckons you from your reverie, and you meet Geta's eyes, black as the abyss, and his wolfish grin. His thick hand with its many glimmering rings combs through your hair affectionately, aimlessly, as you would pet a kitten.
“You've never seen anything like this, have you, little pet?”
“No, sire. I apologize. I'm just...”
“Absolutely adorable when you're shocked, and it drives me absolutely mad with lust. Come, sit on your king's lap.”
You obey, readily. The slender golden chains criss-crossing your warm skin chime gently as you rise. As Geta settles you carefully upon his thigh, he admires your body and the adornments he chose for it. The silk is iridescent, thin, and transparent as the wings of a dragonfly. It leaves nothing to the imagination, on the contrary, it only draws attention to the curves beneath it, curves which Geta now leers at shamelessly as he gulps his wine.
“Now, darling, look...observe well,” he whispers close to your ear, plush lips ghosting over your skin. “You needn't be shy.”
He dips a fingertip into his honeyed-wine then holds it against your lips with a silent command to taste. You open your mouth and surrender to him, licking and sucking gently as you would attend to his cock. You've learn how he likes this. You've been an apt pupil and it delights him.
“Good girl,” he sighs, watching your now wine-blushed mouth. “You're a quick learner....never need to be told twice, do you? My generals could learn a thing or two about that.”
Then, a messenger greets Geta with a deep bow and kneels. He announces that his general, Coriolanus, has returned from the battlefield and comes to report.
Geta smirks to you, like it's an inside joke, “Well, well. Speak of the devil. Yes, very well...send him in.”
You tug his robe very gently to get his attention and ask, “Sire, shall I leave until you need me again? Perhaps this is not for my ears?”
He grins broadly, but it's unsettling. It doesn't extend to the voids of his eyes. “Of course not! Please, by all means, stay. I'd like you to meet Rome's greatest general...obstinate though he is.”
He ushers you gently back to your cushion as the doors groan loudly, heralding the entrance of the elite soldier. He's filthy in his armor, painted in mud and blood and the sweat of battle. A sharp contrast to the rich, bright, sensual scene on either side of the aisle. His presence parts the vista of pleasure like the Red Sea as he storms forward and takes a knee before his god-king.
“Caesar, I bring you glad tidings of our victory, yet again,” says a deep, smooth, voice. The haughty aristocratic accent slices through you like the razor-sharp sword he carries.
“I expected no less from you, Coriolanus,” Geta drolls out, swirling his wine idly in his goblet, nearly bored, even by the monumental news. The practical aspects of ruling never appealed much to the emperor, only the pleasurable ones. Another wicked grin crosses his features, the one that tells you he's up to some depraved game for his own diversion.
He finally looks over his general. “Rise, Coriolanus. As your reward, I invite you to stay for this delightful party. You've earned your relaxation. Please, enjoy all I have to offer.”
You dare to raise your eyes, curious about this man even Geta praises. The champion stands, towering over you with his long, lean height.
The first thing you notice is the striking difference between this man and your king. Where Geta is an impressive, heavy, scepter, Coriolanus is the sharpest of swords; a man made of all harsh angles, seemingly forged of steel. Especially his eyes, gods, those eyes, cold as iron and blue as an icy sea.
You had become accustomed to the warmth, the blood-flushed pink lips and round animated feature of Geta's face. Now, his general's thin, unsmiling mouth and impervious expression rather frightened you. But beneath it, could you dare admit that it aroused you?
You shake the thought away. These choices weren't yours to make anymore anyway. Your sex belonged to one man to do as he pleased...and he certainly did please, often and well. You were grateful, really, for your privileged spot. It could have been so much worse.
The men talk and you struggle to keep your curious eyes politely averted until ordered to do otherwise. Therefore, you don't see it when Coriolanus' eyes rake over you extensively, drinking you in with covetous longing. His marble shell cracks ever so slightly with a feeling...with lust.
Geta for all his madness and failings, is however, very talented in perception. He can find weakness in a man's face and exploit it entirely, mercilessly. But today, he is in a good mood. Today, he is feeling merciful.
Geta watches and smiles knowingly. “Beautiful, isn't she?”
He takes your hand, urging you to stand with him. He gently guides your chin up to meet the soldier's eyes. The king's hand strokes your hair then grips your breasts possessively while he speaks. “And to think this beautiful diamond in the rough was languishing away in some provincial hovel.”
Finally, a smile crosses his thin lips, and his face is transformed into a charming portrait of a chiseled god. “A tragedy, indeed, sire. May I touch her?”
“Of course. Just be gentle. She's quite precious to me and still...learning.”
He begins to extend his hand towards your soft cheek, but then remembers the blood and dirt covering his body and reconsiders.
“Ah. Perhaps, I shouldn't until I've bathed properly. I wouldn't want to soil you, my dear. At least, not yet and not like that.”
Despite your nerves, you giggle faintly at the innuendo, still afraid, but charmed and aroused, maybe even because he is so powerful, so intimidating. Or maybe because of how his rich deep voice drops even lower as he practically growled the words, like a majestic beast barely restrained. Maybe because he could tear you apart.
“Oh, but you must have a taste of her. Her cunt is so sweet, like honeyed-wine.” Geta turns to you and says with a gentle coo, “Darling, be a good girl...slide your fingers between your legs and let the good general have a taste of you.”
“Yes, Sire,” you say with as you part your silky skirt and slide two dainty digits between your folds where your juices have already begun to drip. There's plenty to collect for him.
Geta holds your chin to meet Coriolanus' eyes while you bring you fingers to his lips. The gazes of both men bore into you as he licks and sucks you into his mouth, cleaning your fingers with the long muscle of his tongue and never looking away.
Geta hums, “hmm. So wet for us already, pet?”
You blush and try to stutter out an apology, to which both men simply chuckle. “Oh she is sooo sweet, Geta. So eager to please...so obedient and innocent. I can see why you're quite taken.”
“Well, why don't you bathe? The sooner you do, the sooner we can both take her.”
Your emperor's words set your blood on fire as it rushes to your cheeks and between your legs in anticipation. You weren't sure what to expect from this debauchery, but you certainly didn't expect this.
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losojos-decupido · 2 days ago
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Memory is as but memory. He does not see you as anything except who you are in front of him. The two of you bleed the same, but for different causes, you and that buried hyena. You worried that one day you would become that same creature, hobbling about and laughing at the next carcass prepped for your consumption. But perhaps that is not so. At least, not for this Fogado who appears as the mask detaches. “ …surprise! did i getcha? ”
fogado cannot remember what he had been thinking back then. what was it that made him feel so sure in that moment? to bear himself to the beast despite no necessity present? what had he felt that had so overpowered everything his body had ever known? secrecy? safety?
well, there's nobody he can ask. the fogado who appeared as the mask detached died moons ago.
rafal likely does not mean to show it, but the burn of blush stands out quite clearly against his pretty, pale skin. it seems he thinks fogado a player; at this moment in time he believes those flukes were intentional. that's good. the higher fogado can sit off the ground, the better his hold against he whose thoughts he cannot yet parse.
does he feel bad for this? not at all. if the fell dragon's bravado is shattered by a prince's game, then it's simply, crassly put, an Issue of Skill. what happened to all of that haughty air, backed by blood under the fingernails of his lackeys ( as expecting it under his own is too much to ask )? what had he been hoping for with this stupid little game? equality? " our levels are simply that different and your nature only human. " yeah, right.
so fogado is quite pleased with this ending---he has been mistaken for a cleverer version of himself and is not required to say anything in return. rafal turns away from him and fogado smiles a wryer face; what is there to mourn? nothing at all.
he doesn't notice the pocky he's crushed underfoot as he walks back to his room. maybe he should take the rest of the day off.
end
🍪 + 1
( fogado tries to be smooth and cool about offering. when rafal gets even remotely closer, though, his face prickles and flushes. ez win for the fell dragon. )
POCKY DAY ♥
Avoidant gaze and flushed skin in fullest force, a frayed bundle of nerves Fogado was. Transform and Rafal suspected the rank smell of pheromones would flood the very air, except there was no need for that - to investigate more thoroughly or to taste the evidence on his tongue. Only one glance and he could tell. A far cry from the Fogado of his own world who had never once given his master an inch, neither in traditional respect nor in duly attributed fear.
He could almost delight in the difference.
"Nervous, I see. That is to be expected, in close proximity with a being who could tear this monastery apart at a moment's notice." Not that Rafal would. He merely savored the hierarchy of reaction; such a cause as Rafal, and such an effect as those shrinking around him. Did it not all compose the cachet of the mightiest dragon?
That mightiest dragon smirked with pleasure. Returned to the crux of their matter, he stepped closer toward the chocolate-coated stick in Fogado's mouth. Power sat in these hands, and now - of all things - in the mere existence of his lips.
Rafal roll: 5, victory!
Ready he was at the prospect of a challenge, eager even, but he did no more than breathe against the other and the thin confection snapped in two. Disappointing. He plucked away the crumbs on the prince's cheek, at the corner of his mouth, and licked his fingers - not a single morsel left to waste. This gesture did not mean poor little Fogado was in the clear.
"Far too easy, Fogado! Though, I suppose that is no fault of yours. Our levels are simply that different and your nature only human." Merciless Rafal was, raising another stick from the box yet abounding with supply. Running his Corrupted ragged and a friendly face no less. ". . .We will have to work on that, don't you agree?"
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moonlight-prose · 2 months ago
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a request, if i may, of praising old man logan as he filfthly eats you out and it makes him combust the more you praise him? okay running away again
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speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life
a/n: look at him taking off his glasses in absolute shock of this ask- no okay does old man logan have a praise kink? i would raise it higher and say every version of logan has a massive praise kink. this is a man who wants to know he's doing good in life. his love language is acts of service so he might get to hear a pretty thank you. also i'm not sorry for how feral this got. i have no explanation.
summary: he knew he loved you when your words begin to piece his heart back together. he knew he loved you when he flourishes at your praise. he knew he loved you when nothing in this world could matter but the sound of your voice telling him you love him too.
word count: 3k+
pairing: old man!logan x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), praise kink, logan is obsessed, dirty talk via reader, he is so pretty when he blushes, manhandling, cumplay, cumeating, overstimulation, crying, he's needy in this one, angst, tortured soul of an old man, reverence, religious trauma + greek mythology hints.
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He can feel the strings of fate pull tight around his broken heart. In a failed attempt to draw him back together. To piece together an organ that barely beat for him anymore. He might have felt it once, before it broke. Before it gnarled itself like the branches of a dying tree, one half twisting away from the other in a desperate attempt of survival.
He deemed it a useless part of his body until you came along. You with your smile that held enough cloying sweetness to choke him as he stood helpless. Silently begging for you to say his name. To bring him back to life.
Whatever horrors that plagued his mind—endless nightmares that promised nothing but anguish—suddenly came crashing to a halt at the sight of you. So pretty in your denim jeans and velvet top. An angel seated in the center of a bar that held more filth than you deserved to be near. Logan couldn’t fathom that luck struck him this hard.
Not when death had already claimed his soul; notched yet another tally in the endless wall of people that came before.
He felt the dirt pack under his nails as he clawed his way out of the grave he put himself in. Years spent alone—a man lost to the ravages of time—had turned him bitter. With rough edges and biting words that stung far more than he intended. How could he believe he deserved to live after he contributed so much to the endless pool of blood that tainted his soul? How was he allowed such softness after biting off bits of brutality his whole life?
Logan was pretty sure he survived on borrowed time that had already run out. He could feel death breathe down his neck as the days went on. A reminder that what little of his life remained would be spent suffering. And he found that accepting it was easier than battling against the will of God, or whoever toyed with his lifeline.
It was far easier to die than find a reason to live.
Until you said his name.
Softly. Sweetly. Reverence wrapped in a tight grasp of need.
You brought him back from the edge—took his hand and refused to take no for an answer. You and the safety of your touch; the promise in your kiss. You dragged him into a life he didn’t earn; one that almost tasted too sweet—too sour.
After near a decade of being buried beneath the dirt, he felt himself collapse above ground and suck in his first real gasp of fresh air. Alive, once more. Hell spit him out with a vow of love and who was he to argue against it.
His fingers dug into your plush thighs, tugging them open to see what lay between. He marveled at their softness, eyes wide and awestruck at the sight of you spread beneath him. You practically glowed in the dim light of the bedside table. Yellow, musty, yet angelic when it caressed your body with its heavenly touch.
He wondered if this was real life; your nails digging sharply into his shoulders gave him the answer.
"Logan," you sighed, voice high with need.
The strings pulled taught. A vice like hold that drew him to you.
Maybe that's what this unutterable feeling was. The gnawing pit at the bottom of his heart. A greed he'd never indulged before—too afraid of what it might ask for next. He wasn't a man who asked for much. Rather someone that found himself far too content with nothing. But tonight he found his lips forming the words of a false prayer that his mother taught him as a child.
Hail the angel in his bed. Hail every good fucking thing you brought into his life.
His teeth sunk into your thigh, body jolting at your responding moan. Fingers dug into his hair, tugging at the mussed locks with a high pitched whine. You were a needy little thing, but Logan found he desperately wanted to be needed.
He smiled laving his tongue over the tender spot, working his way up to where you dripped for him.
So slick. So perfect.
Saliva filled his mouth. "What do ya want baby?"
Your chest heaved; he could feel the heat of your body under his palms. "Your m-mouth Logan."
His eyes trailed along your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. The room was thick with the humid air of the outside world. But that didn't deter him from craving your skin near his. The pressure of your thighs around his head a welcome weight. If he sunk his teeth in where the curve of your leg met your hip he knew he could draw out that soft choking noise he longed to hear on days spent driving alone.
If he had his way he'd crawl into you to seek your serenity straight from the source. He'd never divulge about the ache that chewed him up on the inside, but Logan wondered if you knew. Could you tell how much he craved you? How much he couldn't live without you.
When your glittering eyes met his, the resolve he spent years building cracked like glass. You peered into him as if he was a stained glass window. A god you were more than happy to worship.
"You want me to lick this pretty pussy?" Fuck, he sounded drunk off your taste already.
His mouth hovered over your throbbing clit, your scent now filling his senses. Overwhelming him with what he wanted most. But he needed to hear it. The lilt of your begging; the soft echo of your need that washed over him like soothing river water.
He couldn't live without it.
"Yes," you sobbed, thigh twitching.
The string sliced his heart open, blood pooling onto the white bed sheets. Oh what a sweet death your love made. Oh...what a bittersweet way to go.
He'd die right now if you asked him to. Hand over his heart on a silver platter if you so wished it. Maybe that made him far too gone for his own good, but Logan couldn't remember a time in his life where he got this. Safety. The hope of love burning far too bright and far too hot for him to fly near it.
Yet there he was. Icarus happily soaring in your sun like glow.
"I got ya honey," he murmured. "Gonna take care of what's mine."
You nodded frantically—tears welling up in your eyes. "You take care of me Logan."
The breath in his chest stuttered, eyes dark as the words fell past your swollen lips. He wanted to explain why his cock twitched against his stomach. Why he now leaked into the sheet with heavy panted breaths. But every time he came up short with the words needed to form an answer.
"Yeah I do sweetheart," he breathed. "Don't I?"
"Uh-huh."
"Take care of what belongs to me."
There was no warning when his hands dragged you closer with a rough tug, mouth closing over your clit with a desperate suck. A cry wrenched from your mouth, sparks sharply traveling down your spine. He licked through your slick with a growl. Hands an unbreakable press against your thighs.
The sight of your body bowed, mouth open for small gasped breaths that never came, snapped something in his mind. He was an old man. Well past his years. But the taste of your pussy along his tongue brought back a ferocity he often tamped down in his younger age. He felt the feral want claw at his chest, and answered it with a broken snarl.
Swallowing down every drop you gave him, he plunged his tongue into your entrance, thrusting messily until a smear of your shiny slick began to coat his mouth. It covered his cheeks and clung to the hair of his beard. He'd clean it out later, taste you on his tongue until he was aching for another go. But for now he was preoccupied with the way you cried for him.
"Oh fuck!" Your thighs trembled over his shoulders, hips canting down to drag yourself along his tongue. "So good."
He shuddered, eyes rolling back at the sound of your praise. You caught it within seconds, lips pulling into a breathless smile that left him gasping for air. His teeth nipped at your thigh briefly as his hips ground into the mattress below.
"You like that baby?" you breathed, thumb smearing your own slick against his cheek.
Something hot washed over his body. A needy sick and twisted ache that he'd never indulged in before. He wanted to be a good man to you; longed to be needed. And fuck if you didn't give him everything.
You were his walking wet dream. His future handed off and wrapped in a neat little bow.
"L-Love your tongue Logan-" A high gasp tore from your throat when he dived back in. Slurping at your clit with a heady moan as you dragged him closer. "Taking care of me so well."
His hips canted down into the bed, fucking his cock along the warmth of his stomach, as you gushed into his mouth again. Eyes zeroed in on your face, pupils dilated as he growled into your flesh. You no longer could see the man you loved, but the feral side he tamped down during the day. The animal he longed to release in your presence.
"Fuck I'm gonna cum."
His arms looped around your thighs and with a sharp yank, he had his face buried deep enough to suffocate himself. You sobbed an incoherent version of his name. Nails clawed at his shoulders, but Logan could feel the pulse of your clit under his tongue.
He sucked it into his mouth with a grunt, rolling it along his tongue as you trembled with the oncoming shocks of an orgasm that threatened to destroy you.
Tears dripped down your cheeks and Logan felt the satisfying part of his heart begin to stitch itself back together. The strings were tight enough to numb his pain. To quell the flare of agony.
That used to be all he knew, all he counted on most days. When there was nothing left and he'd propped the shovel in the dirt—his grave open and waiting—he stumbled right into your arms. He found his reason for living.
Heat curled around his spine as you shook with the impending orgasm—the stimulation on your clit practically debilitating. He grunted into your soaked flesh, eyes narrowed as he chased the release that pulled his stomach taut. But this wasn't for him to indulge in; this wasn't his pleasure.
So with a throaty moan you felt reverberate along your body, he scraped his teeth along your clit and watched as your body went stiff.
"Logan!" you cried, fingers scrambling for purchase on any part of him you could reach.
You gushed into his awaiting mouth, praises of it's so good, you're so good falling upon his ears like the whimpered prayers of a devout worshiper thanking your god.
"Taste so fuckin' good," he mumbled, drunk on what you gave him.
He didn't care that you were jolting with each pass of his tongue along your pussy. He didn't care that you were shocked with overstimulation, small broken cries of his name muffled by the press of your thighs against his ears. He licked at you until he couldn't breathe. Buried his tongue into your twitching entrance and sucked out your cum with a happy hum.
"P-Please." You tugged at his hair, pulling him off you with a sob. "I-I can't anymore Logan."
"'M not fuckin' finished," he said, eyes glazed and face coated in your slick.
You made a mess of his face. The light catching along where you spilled into his mouth and along his throat. And still he wanted more. He'd spend hours between your thighs, burning your skin with his beard, if it meant he could divulge in your sweetness.
"It hurts-"
A grunt rumbled in his chest, his arms tugging you back even as your feet kicked along his back. "Just one more honey. Yeah?"
You shook your head. "B-But-"
"Thought you said it was good."
"It is."
"Then lemme be good for you." He wanted to tell you that the world went quiet between your thighs. That all his grief, all his pain, lessened when you sobbed his name.
He wanted to show you the string that looped his heart to yours—the only thing keeping him alive—and thank you for bringing him back from the dead. But words weren't his forte. Violence had become the only tenderness he knew and you didn't deserve the rough edges of an old man. You should have more.
But when you let him touch you like this—caress your skin and lick between your folds—he felt as if he was a man who finally was worthy of someone as precious as you. He could pretend he didn't bear the brunt of a fucked up soul.
The weight on his chest lifted when your tear filled gaze met his and you nodded. Small, barely there, but it was enough for him to seal his mouth back over you with a ragged moan. Your body shook as his tongue slid through the seam of your pussy. The tip nudging against your clit—careful to draw the pleasure from your body slowly.
He didn't want to give you pain. His heart wouldn't survive that. But he was a broken man; someone who begged for more even as his teeth sunk into what was already given.
You were his meal. His sacrament in the midnight hours until dawn broke across the darkened sky. You were the other half of his soul.
How could he not indulge in your sweetened tang until his tongue went stiff?
"I love you," you sighed, eyes rolled back when he sucked at your pussy, a wet low moan echoing in the air. "My p-perfect husband."
The cold press of his wedding band against your thigh drove him over the edge. You weren't officially married. Didn't have the backyard wedding with a preacher to match. But Logan had placed a ring on your finger near a year ago, sliding one over his own with the vow of forever cemented in his words.
Even if that didn't mean much in the eyes of a god who abandoned him near a century ago.
"Oh-"
Your head tipped back, mouth dropping open as his fingers dipped into your wet heat. Thrusting lazily until he found the spongey patch along your walls—driving the pad of his middle finger into it with a needy moan.
He knew it wouldn't take long for you to fly off the edge of a second release. That didn't make watching you climb to that peak any less satisfying. The sight appeased his soul. It gave him a chance to breathe; let him know that after so much bad—after so much pain—he could do something good. He could bring you to the edge of pleasure and drag you over again and again.
He could finally be the man you believed he was.
Not the animal they created.
"C'mon," he muttered. Eyes fixed on the shape of your breasts as your body curved off the bed. Hips dragging along his face with a stunted cry.
A wail bounced off the walls, piercing his eardrums with the symphony of your cries. His fingers rapidly pumped into you with a squelch that had heat burning his cheeks—lips pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth as you broke. The climax slammed into you; battering your already swollen pussy.
Logan could feel his cock swell at the sight.
"Fuckin' perfect," he grunted, teeth bared as he clambered to his knees and wrapped his fist soaked in your slick around his leaking cock. "'M gonna cum sweetheart."
Your eyes fluttered open, fingers digging into his thigh. "Please. Wanna see it baby. Look so pretty when you cum Logan."
His chest tightened, body shaking while you watched in rapture as he fucked his fist rapidly. He wouldn't fucking last, could feel the burning consume his body, but something held him back. The string around his heart yanked him away from the edge, tearing a cry from his throat when his frustration peaked.
You could see it—the glimmer of need in his dark eyes. This wasn't the first time he longed for your words. It certainly wouldn't be the last.
So you spread your legs and sat up slowly—arms wrapping around his shoulders to bring his lips down to yours. A soft moan was muffled by your mouth; the peak of his release within reach. He could practically feel the tips of his fingers graze it.
"Cover my pussy baby," you mumbled into his mouth. "Be good for me and mark what's yours."
The growl came from the very bottom of his chest when he finally came. Your name was a bitten out snarl pressed to your mouth in an open mouth kiss as he spurted over his knuckles. He pumped his cock to milk every drop; eyes fixed on the way it covered the swollen lips of your pussy. Dripping down to your entrance that fluttered at the sight of his sweaty and crimson tinged face.
"I fuckin' love ya honey," he murmured, hand cupping your chin to drag your lips back to his. "Best thing that's happened in my life is you."
You smiled, thumbs pressing to his cheeks. "Love you too Logan."
Clutching you close, he felt the string go loose. The breath finally rushing back into his lungs at the sight of your eyes glowing with the kind of light that brought him back to the first day The night he met you in that shitty bar—alcohol the only thing on his mind until he saw you.
The night you spoke his name over his covered grave and dragged him back to life with a smile.
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casuallyanidiot · 2 months ago
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Yandere knight who wants you instead of the princess.
Dead dove Do not Eat Tw. For noncon, MDNI, Fem pov
Yandere knight who has been training in the palace for a very long time. It's an honor for a commoner like him to even set foot into the castle walls, so he works earnestly.
Yandere knight who's been catching glimpses of not only the lovely princess throughout the years, but her handmaidens as well. You're a daughter of a somewhat lesser noble house, and therefore you have essentially been given to the royal family until you're eventually married off to another courtier.
But of all the noble ladies, who often ignore him, he finds you to be the most approachable and kind to him and the other squires. He's developed a bit of a crush on you over the years, and he eventually found it in himself to express his feelings. They were innocent and pure then, and he stood there blushing and awkward waiting for you to accept or deny. He would've taken a no from you. Really, he would have.
But then that pompous bitch got in the way.
The princess had you pulled away by her other attendants before you could answer, and she all but sneered at him.
"My maids are not for common rife like you to sully," she spat, a look of disdain carved on her delicate features.
Yandere knight who was deployed to the battlefront soon after. He spent years in misery knowing it was that royal woman's meddling that had both sent him here and stopped him from knowing how you truly felt.
Yandere knight who carved through foe upon foe with the flash of his sword while thinking of you. He would wipe blood from his face and wonder what it would take to have you. He resolves to become so renowned that he could have you and the respect he deserved all those years ago anyways.
Yandere knight who comes back as the hero of the nation. A parade is thrown for him upon his return, and flowers are thrown at his feet by the masses of people. He is awarded a noble title, a duke (impressive), a territory of land to manage, and the blessing to have the hand of any eligible lady in the land from the king.
The implication was for him to go for the princess, sitting there in a gown befitting of an engagement party. She wasn't the heir to the throne, and having a young, impressionable Duke to have and father a potential crown prince or princess was certainly a draw for her to act so sweet and lovely despite her previous attitudes. He had to use all the will in his body to hide his disdainful glare towards her. Instead, he strode up with a near giddy grin, breezed past the waiting royal, and knelt before you.
"[Name], I shall have you as my wife," He says with a beaming smile. You try to protest, but he's already sweeping you into his arms. The king seems surprised by his choice, but as he stares between Yandere Knight, lovestruck and beaming, and you, squirming and utterly shocked, he realizes that he cannot simply go back on his word. The king waves his hand, and your fate is sealed.
Yandere knight feels bad for not giving you a proper wedding. In fact, he feels bad about not taking you to your new home before he's pulling up your skirts. He's a dog, he knows, but you're just so tempting now that you're all his. He shoving you down onto the plush upholstery of the carriage seats, and you let out a startled cry.
Yandere knight who cannot claim he's chivalrous. He wishes he could, but he loves the way your breasts look pushed up so tightly in the laced bodice of yours. He lets out a groan, petting your hair and shushing you as you whimper under his wandering touch. Button after button becomes undone.
"Love, you'll never wear such stifling clothing again. You hear me? All robes and lace from now on. None of this nonsense," He murmurs into your skin. He pulled your corset and chemise from your body, and he pressed fervent kisses to the crook of your neck. He grasps at your breasts, kneading them experimentally. He's had time to experience women on the battlefield. A fling or two in some field on the outskirts of a freshly liberated village. He would think of you the whole time and imagine what he was latching his lips around the stiff peak of your nipple while a random girl cried out underneath him. But this was real. Your warmth beneath his much heavier form was on of the most beautiful feeling he had ever had the pleasure of witnessing.
He parted your legs, and he could feel you shy away from him. He laughed. As if you had a choice. He knew you would love him eventually, but for now you can't blame him for how ravenous he was as he felt between your shaking, parted legs. He smirked as his lips met yours. His fingers slid against your folds, gathering slick arousal on his digits with a curious hum. He grinds his thumb against your clit as he slowly pushes his way into your warm, spongy walls.
"Oh? Is it good there? Or here? Where, love? You gotta use your words," He teases and licks the tears rolling down your cheeks, peppering your soft skin with kisses. He feels you pulse and stretch around his hand, and he relishes the way your back arches when he curls his fingers just right against that sweet little spot. Desperate noises tumble out of you, and he smiles.
He pulls his fingers out, and you cry out at the sudden sensation. Your chest is heaving with small moans, and your pretty pussy is drooling onto the carriage cushions. He pushes your legs up to your chest for a better grip, and his shudders at the way your twitching feels against the head of his cock.
Yandere knight knows that, as he thrusts into you, he's going to enjoy the luxury of finally having you both under his body and under his control.
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vamp-enhacb · 2 months ago
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Jungwon : Babe?! Since when is that- huh? *confused face*
Update #2
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Heeseung : What to do today?
Jay : Where am I gonna end up today?
Jake : I love this new jacket!
Sunghoon : Time for a nice rest
Sunoo : I thought this was a cute photo!
Jungwon : Felling pretty good today!
Niki : New jewelry! Who likes?
Friends?: @livealittleoc-cb @monsterhigh-cb @evicted-oc @theinvitation-bot @welcome-to-maniac @fantasyaespa @k-venturetime @multi-joong @kardpackcb @obsession-cb @badbf-cb @folklore-cb @domxbot @welcometosector1 @reve-rv @multi-esme @the-hellhounds @oppositesattraxt @coffeexdreamcb @silcntxnight @moonlightchn @blogger-yura @thesugaredalchemists @doom-bc @redlight-cb @inferno-cb @darkloversxcb @clubwnderland @dragonrider-cb @incubus-johnny @songsoftheocean-oc @dream-cb @demigods-ateez @raiden-oc @secretscb @heistkingscb @yuto-on-the-go @switchxincubus-hanse @hybridsheltercb @hybrid-babies [DM + / -]
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toji-bunny-girl · 2 months ago
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toji fushiguro finding out he’s fucking with a nymphomaniac is definitely not on this year’s bingo list of his.
he merely thought you were just some pretty chick he’d bang for some time before moving on to the next, allowing you to have a taste of a good cock in the meantime— taking pride in the fact that his stamina and bedroom skill is one of the best.
and god did you barge into his life just to snatch that title of sex god away for yourself. you fuck him like he’s nothing but a toy, until he’s nothing but a jolting mess of raw fuck, and as if he’s one of his crying girl.
“You’re still tight,” he groaned, throwing his head back as your walls wrapped around his size, unforgivingly firm. Your cunt was attempting to milk him from the entrance of his cock, and his grip tightened around your ass, the pain stimulating your senses further; rending your walls to tense even more. “Fuck!” the timbre of his voice wavered, he was embarrassingly weak in you.
It’s been the sixth round and as much as Toji would hate to admit it, he was getting drunk off of your little unremitting cunt. The fluttering hot walls around his almost raw girth rubbing and enveloping his senses in tight, sore pleasure and they make his knees weak.
His cock was itching for release with just a few pumps of your dripping cunny, and he had to bite down his need into your lip as you’re eating him up—both by his twitching shaft and blush glazed face. It doesn’t help when you’re practically bouncing on his cock as if it’s your first round, like a rabbit in fucking heat.
“This—haa, pussy too good,” your body jolted when he rolled a thumb over your puffy clit. Which was a huge fucking mistake as your walls fluttered tighter around him, garnering a whiny groan from his sore throat.
“Need m-more, Toji,” you whined into his ear, nails sinking into his flesh as your hips bounced in ceaseless pace. “Fuck me hard—haa. Please, Toji!”
How was he to refuse when you’re all flushed above him, your body gleaming in the dark, and touch so scorchingly hot—both inside and out. “You’re driving me—mmph, crazy, woman,” he grunted as he jerked his hips upwards into your squelching cunt, fat, sensitive cockhead kissing your cervix.
You both cried in sore pleasure with each deep sink of his cock into your hot core. Tears were crowding behind his eyes, and his thighs shook from his throbbing cock. You’re riding him harder and harder, little cunny tightening by the second—Toji was going to cry anytime then. Just from your insatiable libido and cunt.
“Baby—ah! I’m cumming, baby. Fuck—haa,” he moaned, deep and long as his body jerked, pleasure flowed with his blood and through his entire body. You still rode him through his high, even when his cock felt raw to his core and weeping in sensitivity. You were relentlessly chasing after your own orgasm, disregarding the groaning mess under you. “Y’gotta s-stop, baby—” Toji managed to choke through, his fingers tensing into your welted skin as his muscles tensed.
“N-No…not yet!” your tone was desperate, your cunt unrelentingly clenching onto his throbbing cock. Your walls gave a tense squeeze before he felt them flutter around him, your juice gushing all over your thighs and dampening the bedsheets as you threw your head back into a wavering cry. “F-Fuck!”
“You’re insane, woman,” Toji chuckled with a prickling tear at the edge of his eye, your cores sore and twitching in sensitivity as you laid on his chest. He merely drowned in overstimulation then, his mind still blank and mouth thirsty for hydration from the constant orgasms.
You were purring like a contented kitten against his throat, nipping at his salty skin, fingers curling around his softening shaft. “One more?”
“Good God—”
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the-faceless-bride · 5 months ago
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More Ideas for KNY (demon slayer) different characters ♡ (SOME NSFW CONTENT FOR SANEMI AND MUZAN AND MENTIONS OF GORE IN SANEMI AND LIGHT NSFW IN GYOMEI)
<- Part 1
Imagine being dangerously in love.
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Imagine being a demon, obsessed with the brash, and blood thirst Wind Hashira. the first time ever being in battle with him is what leads you down a path of want and lust for the cruel hashira.
Imagine going out of your way to always be where he is, always catching his attention and being attacked by him. He believes you're mocking him, following him just to show off that he hasn't been able to kill you. But that isn't true at all. When you fight, you never actively try and gut him, only blocking your neck and leaving the rest of your limbs exposed to be lashed in this masochism tango.
Imagine struggling to hide your enjoyment and ecstacy each time his sword ripped, teard, and scar your body. He had to have known how me made you feel. He must. The darkness of your cheeks must've been a giveaway. Right? His eyes bewitching you in how intense he glares into your soul. It sets a fire under your cold skin, a burning desire.
Imagine one time when you and Sanemi are fighting. Other slayers show up. But they don't instantly jump into the fight. 1. from looking at the fight, you hadn't landed a single strike and seemed to be a greater deal slower than the hashira, and 2. Tanjiro made an odd comment. "Huh, it's like she's avoiding striking him on purpose."
Imagine how Shinobu decided the fight was long enough and tried to sneak in and end the fight. Only for a switch to set off and catch her off guard and spin at the speed of light, leaving a large gash across her body from her left founder to her hip. And Sanemi instantly tried to help her. Only to be stopped by your own weapon pressed so close to his neck that even swallowing made his Adamsapple scrape against a sharp blade. "Don't you dare. Your attention is meant for me. Are you seriously letting her attempt to get between us work?" And that made Sanemi pause... "us? Wha-" -- "don't play dumb darling. We're soulmates, Sanemi~" you whisper to him. "What the fuck."
Imagine how now you make him feel so conflicted, how he hates you for what you are but loves you for how you make him feel... in his home in his spare time as the sun rises, his windows covered and locked tight as he has you on your knees, leaning forward and his chest pressed to your back. Your head locked between his bicep as his other hand held his sword under you. It nicks you each time he thrusts. If he pushed you forward anymore, his blade would surely cut your chest and stomach open. "I HATE YOU, YOU FILTHY DEMON. I DONT WANT YOU. CURSE YOU FOR DEMONIC TEMPTATION." You softy cry at the harsh words from your love, "I don't care if you don't want me... I'm yours right now..."
Sanemi Shinazugawa × Demon reader Trope: Yandere Lovesick/I hate you so much I love you.
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Imagine being with Muzan his entire life... your family were servants to his family. And from a young age, you were assigned to be Muzans personal maid or companion as you were too young to really do any work than cleaning up his room. But since you can remember, you've always been with Muzan.
Imagine being the one he confides with most. His fears, his wishes, and despite his coldness. His shouldering eyes seemed to be less scorching when it came to you. His one and only friend. Even if you didn't have much of a choice in the companionship. It was you who sat in on his doctor's visits about his deteriorating health. When he got the news of how it would be a miracle for him to even make it to his mid 20s...
Imagine how one night after a particularly scary coughing fit, he simply places his head to your mid section as you blush his hair and pull it back into a braid. He softy thanks you as he tilts his head to look up at you, "Of course, I'm always happy to take care of you." But that isn't want he wants. He wanted to take care of you. Not you to him. And without thinking, he pulls you down to him.
Imagine His heat is pounding in his chest. You lay across him as his long and slim fingers tease you between your legs. You try and stay quiet, your face twisted with pleasure and guilt. You felt like you were taking advantage of the sick man who would never find love or feel the love of another in such a romantic and intimate way. You thought maybe that this was him just grasping for a moment where he didn't feel so useless being bedridden. But it was so much more. If this was the last thing he did, pleasing the only one who he cared for most. The one he wished he could've married... he would be happy to die. This surely isn't good for his heart, but he couldn't care less. You hovering yourself above him. As he tried weakly to pull you in to rest your whole weight. This was how he wanted to spend his last days, weeks, and months. However long he had left. He wanted it to be with you.
Imagine as days go by, and he feels more and more guilty. He starts to feel as though you let him do these things because you feel obligated as his personal maid to do so. Nights in the dark ask he fingers you, giving and receiving oral pleasure. But you still won't give him everything. You refuse to fully lay with him. Sometimes, he feels like it's because you don't really love him. Not like he does you. Or maybe you find him... pathetic... he can't actually make love to you. You'd be doing all the work. He doesn't want that, and it seems you don't either... eventually, his thoughts become too much, and he decides to let you go...
Imagine you were relieved of all your maid duties, not just to Muzan but to the family as a whole. You were heartbroken. And the heartbreak only worsened at the news of Muzan and his families and your families deaths. You'd cried more times than you'd ever had before in your life. And you were so very confused when you'd found a Man who looked exactly like Muzan sitting in your bed a few nights later. "Hello dear. I'm home." He invented to truly give you what you wanted, and he was eager to give it too you.
Muzan Kibutsuji × reader Trope: Unrequited/reunited love/soulmates
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Imagine being Master Kagaya's faithful slayer, you'd always admired him. You and your Master had created a strong bond. Stronger than others. Moments like this reminded you that you were special. You sat on your knees as you just like you had the first time. Your head pressed to his chest and he dragged his fingers over your head.
Imagine trying not to tear up as you remember the first time you'd kneeled for him. You'd been reckless and impatient leading to a fellow slayer getting extremely hurt. You kneeled before him as you sat in the room alone waiting for him to speak. Doing your best to not make any noise as you silently cry. You'd failed him. Your beloved Master. But he didn't yell. He didn't make you feel like you were a problem. He merely hummed before knealing with you, one hand on atop your head and the other cupping your cheek feeling the wet stream of tears and wiped it away. "It's alright. You didn't mean for this to happen. I know you didn't. I know you're a good girl." And your breath hitched. He noticed. And from then on he gave you positive affrimations which encouraged you to do better. For him.
Imagine how as you sat there listening to his words letting yourself flow away and melt into your master. He thought it was innocent. He was simply your master helping you, if it wasn't him maybe you'd find these soft words from Gyomei or maybe even Kyojuro... but he was wrong. So wrong. It was him. Only him. You'd put yourself on the line so much more than you should've. All to hear those soft praises. His wife must not like you... you do take up more and more of his time as days go on...
Imagine how he softly calls to you. Late that night, he'd heard your footsteps. He sat with you talking. About anything that day. Soft and short conversations. Quiet but not uncomfortable. "You're my favorite you know." He sighed, before he let out a small chuckle "don't tell the others." You know he was teasing. But your heart told you other wise.
Imagine being hurt. In battle you were hurt. But even in your pain you still made your way to your master... your beautiful Kagaya... the married man, the family man, that you had fallen in love with. "My dear, you still come and see me while you're in such pain?" He seemed shocked. But you aren't sure why, you'd walk on hot coles and crawled on your hands and belly to kneel for him. You'd do anything for your master. And you could only hope as his favorite... you wouldn't let him down. Finally you lifted your head from his chest, pulling his hands from your hands, leaving a kiss to his knuckles. One day. One day you'll have him.
Kagaya Ubuyashiki × Slayer reader Trope: unrequited love/lovesick/slow burn
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Special Part two of Forbidden love with Gyomei × demon
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Imagine how the rest of the slayers flock around Gyomei, asking him so many questions. And he couldn't even answer them all. Too consumed by his disbelief that the person he'd fallen in love with so deeply, had turned out to be a demon.
Imagine how he layed in bed lonely and... missing you. He began to long of your cold touch, your voice, your laugh that was so contagious to him. He missed you. He'd fallen for you. Demon or not. He laid in his bed trying and failing to get even a wink of sleep. But just as he had almost fallen asleep he was awoken by a sound. 'Tap tap' was the sound, 'tap tap' on his window. "Gyomei... my love..."
Imagine how he practically leaped from his bed. Demon or not you had carved yourself a spot in his heart. Slamming open the window and pulling you inside, his hands instantly feeling over your cheeks, your nose, your neck. Kissing the knuckles of your cold hands.
Imagine being the one that made Gyomei for a moment stay from his faiths. Gyomei devoted his life to his beliefs, that includes waiting. Waited all his life for the one. Saving himself and waiting. But you both were in a unique circumstances... so from that point on Gyomei promised himself to you. You would stay with him in his home and he would always come back to you. That night he would kiss you, love you, lay you under him while he whispered for you to be his.
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shrimpybbq · 2 months ago
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Gwayne Hightower corrupting his sweet Targaryen niece!
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His young niece is sent to Oldtown with her younger brother Daeron, much to Gwayne’s delight.
Though she’s a Targaryen, she looks so much like her mother and Gwayne is simply infatuated with her. His niece was Helaena’s twin, the girl much more lucid and rooted in the earth than her sister.
Gwayne who takes her under his wing, allowing the pair to form a strong bond as she learns more about Oldtown and the history of the Hightower’s.
Gwayne watches as his sweet niece seems to grow even more beautiful as she’s older. He notices the attention she draws and the leering gazes men level at her. It makes something in his chest burn.
His niece was expected to return to Kings Landing when she became of age, and yet the time has passed and her mother and father have not sent for her yet. Gwayne comforts his sweet niece though he’s secretly happy and enjoying her presence remaining longer.
Gwayne finds it more and more difficult to resist his niece as she clings to him more in her sadness, his body growing warm at the idea of taking her for himself. He reasons with himself: if her mother married her other daughter to her full-blooded brother then surely an uncle is a less egregious pairing. Gwayne’s been influenced too much by the Targaryen views at this point.
Gwayne seizes the opportunity to corrupt his niece once and for all when she cries desperately in her arms. She’s sobbing about how no man will ever want her as a wife if she never returns to the capital, how her family do not love her, how her mother sent away.
He’s taking her teary face in his hands softly, brushing her hair back from her face as he looks into her wide eyes. The heavy kiss he places on her lips has her momentarily shocked before she tentatively responds. Gwayne’s slowly guiding her lips in the way he likes, revelling in the feeling as her fingers begin threading through his hair.
Gwayne doesn’t fuck her straight away, no, he waits and waits until his niece is so dependant on him, hanging off his every word. She’s visiting the sept with him each day, dining with him and letting him kiss her as much as he wants.
But once he does, there is no one in the world that he would let take her away from him. He would show Otto the bloodied sheets from their coupling and watch his face fall in horror, disgusted at the sullying of a proper Targaryen princess. Otto didn’t think he had it in him, not to do something so vile.
Gwayne gets his way and soon his pretty little niece is standing in front of him in the Sept at Oldtown, exchanging vows with him.
Alicent is beside herself. Her sweet daughter corrupted and defiled by her own uncle, someone she trusted her with.
Gwayne and his new wife are the picture of marital bliss, always giggling and mumbling to each other. The maids in the keep at Oldtown are always giggling as they walk past their chambers; the gasps and groans escaping enough to make a grown man blush.
Gwayne fucks his wife good. I said it. He’s a munch too and 100% makes his wife cum at least once before getting into the main action. He’s got his niece wrapped around his finger and anytime he wants her, he has her.
It’s no surprise when the Red Keep receives a raven announcing the pregnancy of the Targaryen princess, a babe expected no more than 9 months after their wedding (they got down to business right away!).
(Aegon’s giggling at the rage colouring his mothers expression. He loves seeing her so unsettled and makes a note to tease her AS MUCH as possible.)
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nanaslutt · 11 months ago
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Are the JJK men into their nipples being played with?
incl: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Choso
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contains: fem reader, established relationships, multiple positions, dirty talk, nipple play, teasing, hand jobs, overstimulation, masturbation, spanking, unprotected sex, fingering, dry humping, fluff, domesticness, comfort, Choso's is so soft
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Gojo: Yes. Every part of his body is freakishly sensitive it even shocks Gojo himself at times.
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The first time he discovered he could feel stimulation from his nipples was with you. You were on top of him, riding his cock like no tomorrow, the white-haired man groaning and spitting filth underneath you--when your hands came down to steady yourself on his pecs.
His breath hitched when your hands started rubbing back and forth along his pecs from your grinding, his nipples being stimulated in the process. It was a warm feeling, a feeling that blossomed throughout his whole body, one that traveled up to his brain and made him go dumb. He needed you to touch them more or he was going to lose it.
Gojo knew his nipples were sensitive, but more in an annoying way. He would sometimes notice the irritating feeling when he would pull on a shirt, or when the too-pressurized water stream of the showerhead assaulted the sensitive skin. But this was worlds different from that feeling.
"Fuck, baby- baby, need you to do something for me." He almost whined underneath you, nodding at you when he spoke. You continued bouncing on his cock, relishing in the feeling of his fat tip slamming into your sweet spot as you waited for him to speak. "Need you to play with my nipples baby, just h-how I do for you." He instructed, his tone coming out more desperate when his dick thrust inside you particularly hard, making your body jolt forward, your hands sliding across his chest simultaneously.
"Yeah?" You asked, your eyebrows raising at his surprising words. Gojo was always up for trying something new in bed, and this was a fairly normal request, you were shocked the two of you hadn't tried it before. Especially when you took his hard nipple between his fingers and pinched the little bud, going between rolling it around and circling his areola teasingly, which had Gojo gripping the sheets.
"Ohh fuck- nghhh- mama don't stop, d-don't fucking stop I'm gonna cum-" Gojo said, his face scrunched in overwhelming pleasure as desperate whines and moans spilled from his lips. His body jerked forward every time you pinched the pink buds between your fingers, making you blush at how sensitive your usually domineering boyfriend was from getting his nipples played with.
"You gonna cum from a little nipple play? hmm?" You asked teasingly, bringing one of your hands down to rub your clit in small quick circles, the sight of your boyfriend shaking and jerking against the sheets to arousing to stand. Gojo's jaw was slack as he nodded, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure as he tipped his head back, letting his body move in any way it needed while you gave him this insane pleasure.
The combination of you now grinding on his cock instead of bouncing, how tight you got around his dick when you played with your clit, your dirty words and mean fingers pinching his nipples; which were sure to be sore later; was all too much for Gojo. His hands grabbed your hips in an iron grip, his nails digging into your skin painfully, almost drawing blood, as the first ropes of his hot cum shot inside of you.
"Oh shit mama- so tight- fuck-" He groaned when he felt your high come right after his. Your walls constricted his cock as he came inside of you, your cunt greedily milking him and drinking up all his cum deep inside you. You collapsed on his chest with a sigh, his arms wrapping themselves around your back comfortingly as his dick twitched inside you in the aftershocks of his orgasm.
"Holy fuck." Gojo sighed exasperatedly. "Yeah.." You responded, breathing heavily on top of the large man. It took a while for Gojo to feel like his soul after such an intense orgasm. You were about to sit up and slide his cock out of you so the two of you could clean up and get to sleep, but his dick had other plans. "Toru.. why are you still hard even after cumming so much?" You asked, keeping your head on his heart, scared for his answer. "Started thinkin' about you suckin' on my nipples." He giggled, scratching your back lightly, "Wanna give it a try?"
Geto: Absolutely yes. I think he figured it out on his own. He was scrolling through a Twitter porn account and saw a video of a handsome guy jerking off while also playing with his nipples. He thought it looked enticing and Geto was willing to try everything in bed once, so he thought, why not? He was already jerking off, why not spice it up?
When he finished in record time after touching his nipples, he had to bring it up to you immediately. He needed to know how it felt with someone else's hands, so why not his beautiful girlfriend's? And of course, you were more than receptive to his proposition...
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"Fuck- suck harder, a little harder," Geto begged, his face screwed in pleasure. You were lying on the side of his body, your leg thrown over his thighs as you leaned over his chest a bit to lick and suck on his sensitive nipple, your hand rapidly stroking his hard cock as you did so. Geto's grip on your hair was so tight that the tingling sensation on your scalp was becoming more familiar and numb from how long he had been gripping it.
You listened to his words, suckling his stiff nipple harder into your mouth, rolling your tongue around it. Geto took a breath in through his teeth, trying to prevent himself from whimpering. "Fuuuuuuuck." He groaned, his head tipping back against the pillows.
His body jerked when you giggled around the bud, the noise sending vibrations through his chest, making his cock twitch in the process. "God I knew you fucking got me, baby, knew you would make me feel so f-fucking good." He praised, his chin tipped down to watch you suck on his chest, his eyes darting over to your hand soon after to stare at your wrist that rotated and twisted over his sensitive tip.
You moaned in response, acknowledging his words, and making his body jerk forward once more. "Think I'm gonna cum soon b-baby, keep sucking for me." He moaned, quickly pressing his lips together to prevent a pathetic whine that threatened to slip out of his mouth.
Geto brought his other hand down to yours, which was wrapped around your cock, and encased his hand over yours. "Need more... a l-little more." He said, gripping his hand tightly over yours, jerking himself off using your hand. He was squeezing it so tight, your hand was being crushed, you wondered how his iron grip didnt hurt his cock.
You moaned around him when you felt him help you jerk him off. Tightening your leg over his thighs more, you subtly started grinding your cunt on his thigh, trying to give yourself a little relief. Geto felt the ball of his impending orgasm grow tighter when he felt your cunt rub against him, your not so subtly show of your arousal at the situation made him feel dizzy; he wasn't the only one enjoying this.
"Oh fuck, this turning you on baby?" He asked, biting his lip when you nodded and moaned against his nipple, your lips popping off the bud briefly to circle his areola with your tongue. "Shit- gonna fuck you so good after this- gonna- gonna make sure you cum all over my cock for making me feel so good." He groaned, his words getting interrupted by lewd moans as he approached his high.
You felt yourself grow wetter at his words, excited for the promise of getting fucked into the sheets after he finished. "Fuck- It's coming, I'm coming, don't stop don't stop don't-" Geto's grip stayed at the same tightness in his cock, but his ability to jerk himself off was growing weaker as you worked him up to his high. He largely relied on your hand to keep jerking him off as he was tipped off the edge.
"Nghhhh- Fuck- Fuck- Baby ohmygod-" Geto babbled moans of your name, his body jerking, and eyes rolling back in his head while the waves of his orgasm washed over him. You mumbled 'mhm,mhm's' on his sensitive bud, making his orgasm even more intense with the nipple stimulation.
You never let up your fist, white ropes of cum spraying out of his big cock and landing all over your hands, creating lewd squelching noises as you jerked him through the aftershocks of his high. "I fucking love you so much.. hahh.. fuck." Geto moaned, his glossy eyes staring at the ceiling as his body twitched, his breath hitching through the attempts to suck down as much air as he could into his lungs.
You wasted no time popping off his nipple with a cute 'ahhh' sound and sliding your body to sit on top of his. You pulled your panties to the side and lined up his still-hard cock with your unprepped entrance before he could even register what was happening. His hands shot to grab your waist in alarm when you sat down fully on his sensitive cock with no warning, making his body curl in on itself.
"H-hold on gotta give me a second baby, I just came-" You cut him off before he could continue his protests. "Need it now Sugu, can't wait." And with that you placed your hands on his chest and took his swollen nippled between your fingers, pinching the other one simultaneously as you rode his cock, making incoherent please and whines spill from the dark-haired man's lips as he was fucked into overstimulation.
Nanami: unfortunately, I don't think he has a lot of feeling in his nipples, but he wouldn't be opposed to you playing with them or sucking on them if you really wanted to. He is in love with you after all, whatever you want, you get.
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You walk into the kitchen with tired eyes, rubbing the sleep from them using the back of your hand. Immediately, the smell of bacon and eggs fills your nose, making you salivate. What makes you salivate even more is the gorgeous view of your husband standing in front of the stove, shirtless.
Angry red scratches litter his pale back from the night before, making you blush. The sun is shining through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating his hair appear like little strands of gold. You walk up behind Nanami, adorned in only one of his house T-shirts, and wrap your arms around his torso, your hands finding home on his toned midsection.
"Good morning my love, did you sleep alright? I kept you up pretty late last night, sorry about that." Nanami voiced, smiling slightly at his own words. You hum into his back, starting to feel up his body under your hands, feeling in between the indents of his abs, "Slept so good Kento." You purred.
He laughed, briefly looking away from the stove to look down at your hands, groping his body slowly. "Good." He replied, looking back to the stove, and flipping the eggs. "Are you enjoying yourself?" He added when he felt your hands slide up to his pecs, massaging them the way he always did for you.
"Mhmm.. I love your body Kento, you're so strong." You whisper, your face pressed to his back making your words vibrate through his skin. Your words make him blush, he was thankful he was faced away from you or you would've teased him for sure. "I'm glad, It's all you sweetheart." He responded, making you blush in turn.
You bit your lip, nuzzling your head into his back, your hair tickling his skin. An idea popped into your head as you felt up his chest when your fingers briefly brushed over his nipples, so you decided to act on it. With a smirk, you found his nipples with both of your fingers and with a featherlight touch, you started to tease around his nipples, "Even these?" You asked, referring to his earlier statement of his body being yours.
Nanami turned off the heat of the stove, covering the eggs with the lid of the pan before he looked down with a slightly open mouth, watching you play with his nipples. His abs clenched at the unexpected feeling when you pinched them between your fingers--not because it felt good per se... It just felt like you were pinching his skin, not bad just... well he didnt really feel much, to be honest.
He smiled when you continued, clearly wanting a reaction out of him. "Yes, even those." He laughed, his breathing and words still infuriatingly even and calm. "Kento, does this not feel good?" You asked, going back to rubbing your fingers around his arolas, waiting for him to respond.
He took a second to find his words before he responded, you were obviously enjoying yourself so he didnt want to deter you or crush your spirits too much. "It's not that, I just don't really feel much there." He replied, covering your hands with his larger ones, interlacing your fingers with his, and stopping your movements.
"I've tried to touch them myself when I was... ahem, I found out then that I couldn't feel anything there. Which is a bummer, seeing as how you go a bit crazy when I touch yours." He laughed softly. "Must feel good, huh?" You sighed against his back, obvious disappointment in your breathing.
"I'm sorry my love." He said, releasing your hands to turn around and hold you in his embrace, his warm body radiating into your skin, making you relax as you shut your eyes and let his body engulf yours, the man slowly rocking back and forth. "It's okay Kento, just thought you would have some cute reaction." You said. You felt his chest shake against your head, the man giving a soft laugh at your words. "Ughhhh, why does your body hate meee." You sighed dramatically, pouting your bottom lip out.
"I assure you my body doesn't hate you." He said, pulling away he held your cheeks in his hands, his deep eyes looking into yours as he spoke. "Need I remind you how we ended up all over each other for hours last night? Hm?" He said, tilting his head at you and furrowing his eyebrows together.
You blushed deeply at his words. The two of you were shopping for dinner, when a little boy came up behind you, taking on the calf of your pants. The boy had gotten lost in the supermarket, and with a crying face, he had asked you to help him find his mom. The way you knelt down to speak to the child, the way your hand engulfed his little one, the way you held him, Nanami couldn't stop thinking about how good you were with the child. Which led him to pounding you into the sheets as he whispered in your ear how much he wanted to give you his babies.
You looked away from his face, he was right after all. Nanami got aroused whenever you looked in his general direction for christ's sake, how could his body hate you? "O..okay.. I guess I'll let it go this time." You said, still looking away from his face in embarrassment.
Nanami laughed, leaning down he pressed a long kiss to your forehead before pulling away, his hands tucking your straw strands of hair behind your ear. "Let's eat now alright? After breakfast, if you still need a little reminder of how much my body loves you, I'll be happy to show you as well." You were left a blushing mess when Nanami turned around to grab the plates, setting up the food. Maybe you should tease him more if this was going to be the result.
Toji: I think his chest is sensitive, but he doesn't like it when you touch his chest for that same reason. He's too sensitive. Toji likes being in charge and of course he wants you to be happy no matter what, but he cannot stand being teased; which is exactly what you would do if you got the chance to touch his nipples.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Toji always looked so good in his compression shirt. The tight article of clothing makes every single muscle on Toji's large frame stand out too well. You have to stop yourself from drooling every time he wears it.
One day, Toji was working out in the home gym the two of you had built, and you walked in to ask him what he wanted for dinner when you saw him. He was bench-pressing a shocking amount of weight, lying on his back with his legs spread. His bulge was very obvious through his sweats, the sight making your mouth water.
Along with that sight though, as you got closer you could see Toji's nipples were hard through his shirt, the little buds just aching to be sucked on. When you got within Toji's eyesight he turned his head over to you, not stopping his workout as he spoke to you slightly out of breath, "What's up doll, come to workout with me?" He asked, smirking.
"I'd rather just watch you." You said, leaning against the equipment next to him, your eyes shamelessly raking over his body and taking in his impressive frame. He laughed, pausing his set he leaned up, sitting on the edge of the bench, his legs spread. "Cmere pretty." He asked, waiting for you to take your place between his thighs.
He held his hands out when you got close, his large hands wrapping around your waist when you got within range, his strong arms pulling you into his lap. You had no idea how he had barely even broken a sweat, you swear you worked out for thirty seconds and you needed to change shirts.
You wrapped your arms over his shoulders, his hands sliding down to grab your ass as he pulled you into him, making you sit right on top of his crotch--you could feel his bulge right under you, making you feel a new type of need. "Whachu need pretty girl?" Toji asked, raising his eyebrows before he leaned in to kiss your neck, peppering his lips all over your skin.
You sighed at the feeling, your breath picking up while he continued teasing you. You pressed the back of his head into your neck, your other hand still wrapped around his neck. "Mmm, wanted to know what you wanted for d-diner." You whispered, tipping your head back to give him more access. Your breath hitched when he sunk his teeth into your skin, his tongue licking over the spot to soothe the sting afterward.
He pulled back, his lips a bit red and glossy from the assault on your neck. "You." He said with a smirk. You could feel your cunt throbbing from his kisses, and his words and hands groping your ass was not making that any better. "Baby~" You drawled, holding his sweaty face in your hands, his dark eyes staring into yours.
With a sigh and a pat on your ass he shrugged, "I don't care, you pick. As long as you're desert." He winked, making you burst into giggles, he could be so corny sometimes. "Alright baby, up, gotta finish this set then you can sit on me all you want." He said, leaning back down to lay on the bench, his hips thrusting up as he got into position, making his dick press right against your clit.
"Hold on.." You mumbled, leaning your hands on his chest. Toji was about to reach up for the bar when he watched you duck underneath it and lean onto his chest. He thought you were hugging him, but when he felt your fingers flick over his covered nipples, followed by a shock that ran through his entire body and straight to his cock, he froze in place.
You flicked your fingers back and forth over the buds quickly, trying to test his sensitivity there. Toji's face scrunched in pleasure, his jaw muscles bulging under the weight of his teeth as he bit down hard, a shaky moan coming through his nose. You looked up, watching his face contort into pleasure, one of his eyes shut as he grimaced trying to fight off the pleasure when you pinched his left nipple, rolling it between your fingers.
You smiled in surprise, feeling his cock harden underneath you, the two of your crotches pressed firmly against one another. "Didn't know you were sensitive here." You laughed, "Just wanted to fuck around, but you're really reacting to this." Toji's mouth opened when your other hand mimicked your ministrations and pinched his nipple, hard.
The next thing Toji did made both of you freeze in place. Toji let out a loud whimper. Not a groan, not a whine, a high-pitched, loud, whimper. You didnt even know that kind of sound could come out of Toji, the sound immediately making your face flush, his hips jerking into yours at the same time the whimper slipped out.
A blush spread across Toji's face before his eyes shot open, staring into yours. His hands imediately came down to grab your wrists, pulling them away from his chest in an iron grip god himself couldn't get out of. After a brief moment of silence, save for the heavy breathing, you spoke. "Did you just-" Before you could even get your words out you were being grabbed in Toji's strong grip.
The man was standing in an instant, throwing you over his shoulder, your ass poking out next to his face. He walked quickly and angrily towards the exit of the gym that let back into the house, where Toji was about to throw you over the couch in the foyer and fuck the shit out of you. You knew you fucked up with how quiet he was being, not a work from his lips since the whimper.
"Toji-" You started, once again your words immediately being cut off when he landed a heavy smack against your ass, the sting making whine, one of your hands coming to cover your ass so he couldn't hit you again. "Think It's fun to humiliate me like that?" He growled, pulling open the gym door in one swift movement, leaving it open behind him as he stormed through it.
"Toji don't be embarrassed, It just means you felt good- Ahh!" You whined, your hand being swatted out of the way so he could land another harsh smack against the fat of your ass. It was disorienting in the way he threw you off of his shoulder and spun you around, bending you over the back of the couch.
He grabbed your hips in his large hands, and soon after you felt his rock-hard-clothed cock rub against your folds, making you press your legs together. "Don't give me that shit, saw the way you were smilin', fuckin' brat," Toji growled, spanking your ass once more before he yanked your pants midway down your thighs, spreading your cheeks apart so he could get a good look at you.
Toji was glad you were facing away from him, his face was still so red from embarrassing himself in front of you like that, his nipples still buzzing with the feeling of where your fingers once were. "Gonna fuck you till you're crying like a little bitch, and don't say you can't take it because you will." Toji spat down onto your spread ass, the glob of spit rolling down your puckered hole to mix with your wetness, Toji's finger soon coming down to rub the wetness around there, preparing you for what was to come.
You might die from his cock, but the mental recording you had of Toji whimpering from his nipples, was so fucking worth it.
Choso: I think they're moderately sensitive, but nothing like Geto or Gojo's. Believe it or not, he wishes they were more sensitive. He has made you cum from playing with your nipples, and dry humping you. You made it look a fucking treat, but no matter how hard he tries, it never feels as good as it looks like yours do.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
"C'mon Cho, close your eyes, you can do it." You whispered, slowly grinding on his clothed dick, his nipples being tweaked between your fingers. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to focus on the feeling of your warm panty-clad cunt rubbing along the length of his stiff cock.
You had tried circling around them, sucking them, pinching and rubbing them, and he just wasn't reciprocating any of it, it was making him so frustrated that it was almost hard to enjoy. He held his breath, hearing somewhere that asphyxiation can heighten arousal... and of course, he had no luck.
He groaned, cracking his eyes open he looked up at you with a pout, looking like he was going to cry. "I.. I can't cum like this." He said defiantly, making you cease your actions. His nipples were sore at his point, the hardened buds hot and throbbing now that you had stopped. Choso looked away from you, embarrassed he couldn't even manage to do this when it was so easy for you.
"Choso," You said, placing your hands on his abs, stopping your grinding on top of his still-hard cock. "Choso." You repeated, forcefully turning his head to look at you. He looked over at you with a red face, disappointment obvious on his features. "All bodies are different, I just happen to be more sensitive up there. You're not, and that's okay," you said, caressing his face. Choso leaned into your touch like a cat, sighing heavily.
"It's just frustrating. I want to feel good like you do too." He said, his eyes locking onto yours finally. You smiled, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. "I know, but you can feel good in so many other ways. And we can keep trying." You said softly. "Overtime, the more you play with them, your sensitivity will get more intense, so maybe one day you'll be able to finish from touching your chest alone." You reassure.
That actually did make him feel better, his disappointment slightly fading away at your words--but now he was left with another dilemma plaguing his mind, the atmosphere was a lot different now from having to take a break to console him. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he looked away from your eyes again. "I.. I ruined the moon didnt I?" He asked, feeling childish for getting upset at such a moment at what seemed like such a small thing.
Your giggle brought his eyes back to you as he looked at you curiously. "Choso no! Absolutely not!" You reassured. "If you ever need to take a break for any reason during a moment like this, that's more than okay." He looked down, not seeming totally convinced as he took in your words.
"Don't believe me?" You asked challengingly. Taking your hand you grabbed his, pulling it down to where you sat on top of him. You slid your panties to the side, exposing your cunt to his blushing face. He watched with a slacked jaw as you pressed his fingers against your pussy, making him feel how wet you are. "You feel that?" You asked, holding his wrist to make him rub you back and forth.
He nodded, looking between your eyes and his hand you were using to touch yourself. "Still think you ruined the mood? Hmm?" You ask breathily. Choso takes control over his own hand again, his cock twitching back to life after softening slightly. He rubbed his fingers through your folds, catching the tip of his thick finger on the entrance of your cunt he slowly pressed on it, his finger sliding in with ease.
"Fuckk.." You gasped, feeling the girth of his finger slip inside you. The warmth and tightness of your cunt made him forget all of his doubts and worries in an instant. "You're so wet.." He mumbled, slowly thrusting his finger in and out of you, making sure to curl it upwards, rubbing against your sweet spot.
"All for you Cho, all cos of you." You said, watching his hand work inside of you, his heavy palm rubbing your clit perfectly as he fingered you on top of him. Your hands came down to rub at his boxers, your fingers teasing his clothed tip before you pulled the cloth down, exposing his insanely large and dripping length.
He watched with bated breath as you took him in your hands and stroked him up and down, using his precum to aid the slide. "Want me to show you how much of a mood I'm still in?" You giggled, rubbing his frenulum teasingly. Choso gulped, hard. "I love you." He mumbled, the words spilling from his lips like the most natural thing in the world. Your eyebrows raised in shock before you laughed, pausing your minstrations on his cock.
You leaned down, stroking his dick softly until your lips met his ear, giving him a soft kiss on his neck before you uttered the words, "I love you too."
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ellecdc · 7 months ago
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James and Sirius and Remus and Lily and *takes a dramatic breath* you?
this one's for you @enamoredwithbella, thanks for sorting this idea out with me @unstablereader
poly!Marauders + Lily x shy!reader who is so smitten with them
pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5
CW: fem!reader, reader has hair long enough to be played with, reader is in Hufflepuff, swearing, consent because it's sexy AF
This was obviously a bad idea.
You’re not even sure how your friends managed to convince you to attend the Gryffindor party, but you swore to every deity it would never happen again.
There were too many people (most of whom you’d never spoken to before), it was too loud (songs you didn’t particularly care for), and the fifteenth time someone bumped into you nearly sent you over the edge.
“Whoa there, sweetheart.” A low voice commented as an arm quickly righted you from your nearly horizontal position. “Y’alright?”
You looked up to see the face of none other than Gryffindor quidditch captain James Potter beaming down at you.
You were ashamed of yourself for the way that smile made you feel.
“Erm, yup! Thanks.” You squeaked, quickly freeing yourself from James’ grasp so fast that you nearly knocked someone else over in your attempt at creating distance between you and the Headboy.
It wasn’t that you didn’t like James. On the contrary; you were rather smitten with him.
Him and his partners - which was nothing short of dense in simple terms.
But you couldn’t help the way you blushed when he held the doors open for you as you walked into classes, or the friendly smile and wave he’d shoot at you when he saw you on Prefect rounds. 
You sort of wished he’d stop being so bloody nice to you; maybe then you’d be able to get over this crush that was never going to amount to anything.
But James was taken; three times over. 
And what a sodding group they were.
Heart Throb of Hogwarts™ Sirius Black in his effortless style, his devil may care attitude, and his insatiable flirting. Being noticed by Sirius felt like your favourite rockstar singing a song written just for you. 
And don’t even get you started on the enigma that is Remus Lupin; the Cassanova of Gryffindor tower. Everyone in your year (and likely the years below you) had at some point or another crushed hard on the quiet Marauder; but it really couldn’t be helped. He was tall, he was handsome, he was kind, and though he was far more quiet than his counterparts, the quips he shared with you never ceased to reduce you to a fit of laughter.
And gods, was Lily Evans ever beautiful. She was the total package; she was funny, outgoing, smart, and stunning. Looking at her even now with her long auburn hair as she threw her head back in laughter; so open and care free in her actions. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be her or being underneath-
No.
No. That was not a nice thing to think about someone who was in a committed relationship.
You let out a sigh as you zoned back into the fact that James still had one of his hands on your elbow and was smiling curiously at you. 
“Thanks for the save! I really owe you one.” You chuckled awkwardly and nearly took out one of the Prewett twins in your haste to leave Potter’s vicinity. 
Unfortunately, trouble seemed to be following you.
And by trouble, you meant Sirius Black.
“Damn, Hufflepuff!” He cheered as he moved a sultry gaze up and down your body appreciatively. “Give us a spin, dollface.”
You felt all the blood in your body migrate to your cheeks as you fought to keep your mouth from falling open.
Lily, the beautiful angel (or the evil temptress, depending on how you looked at it), swatted at Sirius from her perch on the arm of the chair her boyfriend was currently occupying.
“Down boy; you’re going to scare her away.” She teased with a smirk as she winked at you. 
You felt momentarily grateful for her.
And then she spoke again.
“Then none of us will get to look at her.”
Fucking Helga, was it hot in here? They needed to open more windows; preferably one you could launch yourself out of right now, thank you very much. 
“That’d be such a shame, really. Sorry doll, you don’t gotta spin - no one else here deserves to appreciate such a view.”
“Okay.” You squeaked and turned in search of your friends.
You know what? Fuck your friends; you were leaving with or without them. 
They weren’t….flirting with you, were they?
Surely not.
Of course not.
What a ridiculous thing to think.
But…it certainly felt like they were flirting with you.
Maybe one more glance?
Just as you were about to approach the portrait hole, you turned for one more look at the objects of your affection and your current tormentors and - yup, sure enough - Sirius, Lily, and now James were all standing there smiling at you.
They were watching you leave?!
Okay time to go, that is enough nonsense for one day. 
You spun and collided with something tall and solid which thankfully caught your arms as you all but ricocheted off of them.
“Hey there, dove. Where’re you headed in such a hurry?”
Please for the love of gods, don’t tell me…
But of course, you looked up to see the face of one Remus Fucking Lupin smirking down at you. 
“You lot are everywhere.” You whispered in awe. The bastard only chuckled in response.
“Come on you guys! We’re going to start a game of truth or dare!” Lily called over to…you (?) and Remus.
“Well, we wouldn’t want to miss that, would we?” Remus murmured lowly into your ear as he steered you towards the growing circle congregating around the various chairs and sofas littering the common room.
And listen, you’re not particularly proud that you were so placid in Remus’ man handling you.
But in your defence…
In your defence, Remus was man handling you. 
And to your absolute horror, he plopped you down beside Lily on a large chair that was not quite large enough for two people. 
You tried to swallow your heart back down which was attempting to escape via your mouth as you became hyper focused on the fact that Lily sodding Evans was pushed up against you none too casually and- Merlin’s tits, was she playing with your hair!? 
You pretended to pay attention as a few rounds passed by; your friend being dared to give you a lap dance being the most brazen thing to have taken place.
Until it got to the Marauders.
Marlene dared Sirius to strip down to his boxers for a whole round which he was all but too eager to do, apparently. Meaning he got to ask the next person.
“Moony!” 
Remus smiled down at his lap before he looked over at one of his boyfriend’s mischievously. 
“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl here.”
You’re not necessarily proud of the way your heart plummeted at that; this is what you had been telling yourself all night. They were taken.
No matter if they complimented you.
No matter if they caught you as you fell. 
No matter if they snuggled up to you on a chair designed for one.
No matter if one of them made you feel like you leaving the party early would have been truly devastating.
No matter.
“That’s impossible; there’s two of them.” Remus said quickly, causing your heart to ache for Lily.
Who even says that when their girlfriend is sitting right here!?
You kept your head down as the party all ooooh’ed and aawwwweee’d.
James let out a funny high pitched laugh as if he were an over excited kid on Christmas morning. “Guess you’ll have to kiss them both then.” 
You really should have left when you had the chance; you weren’t sure you could watch.
It was their business if they wanted to include another, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.
“Or they can kiss each other; I think I’d enjoy that just as much.” 
“Sounds good to me.” Lily said as she stood; the space she once inhabited felt cold and vacant without her.
“Well? Come on then?” She said as she grabbed your arm.
“What?”
“Come with me.” She said again, wiggling your arm within your grasp, and who were you to deny her, really?
Like a well trained dog you followed her obediently over to where Remus sat before she all but shoved you into his lap.
“You seem like the fidgety type; maybe Rem can help with that, hm?” She said as she shot a wink at Remus over your shoulder.
His arms wrapped possessively around your waist as he rested his chin on the junction between your neck and shoulder.
“Is it okay if she kisses you, pretty girl?”
You had no time to be absolutely horrified at the pathetic little keening sound that escaped your lips as you looked up at the red-head now towering over you.
“What do you say, gorgeous?” And though her emerald eyes did shine with some mischief, you could see she was earnest; this was your choice.
“Okay.” You whispered barely loud enough for you to hear yourself over the hammering of your heart.
“Yeah?” She whispered as she knelt in front of you.
“Yeah.” You agreed.
And you only got to see the soft, hopeful smile that adorned her lips for but a moment before her hands were on either side of your face and she was pressing her soft lips to yours. 
It could have been hours or centuries but it was also all too soon before she was pulling away from you; a proud smile on her lips though her cheeks were a similar colour to her hair.
You became aware of the hooting and hollering going on around you as Remus’ chest began to vibrate in laughter.
“Beautiful.” He murmured - likely more to himself than to you, but you heard it all the same.
“Do I get a turn?!” James shouted before Sirius roughly grabbed him by the waist and planted him down on his lap.
“Not before me, Jamie.” He snickered as he shot you a wink. 
The audacity of a man to still be so confident sitting in nothing but his boxers. 
You tried to hide behind your hands though it was all for naught as Remus made a theatrical cooing sound and pulled you further into his lap until you were all but cradled in his arms.
“Maybe without an audience next time, hm?” He asked you as he brushed some hairs away from your forehead.
Not trusting yourself to speak (or to even make direct eye contact with the bloke currently cuddling you in your lap), you nodded with your face still hidden.
“Way to go babe.” James said as Lily went to join the two boys on their loveseat. “You were so good, we’ll even get a next time!”
read about their first date here!
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emacrow · 3 months ago
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Kronos, Agent A, and bites marks
Kronos looked a bit skittish and dejected after the sixth Doctor nearly got iced by her baby after he made an unfortunate choice of mumbling words which lead to Batman calling in a favor from the Wayne's to bring in a good doctor that actually can get near both the ancient beings long enough to give a diagnosis.
Incoming Agent A, who was calmly explained the situation as he walked slowly into the containment. Kronos look at him for a moment before a bit of realization flickered in his eyes, as she murmur something.
Batman and the other heroes watches behind the hidden camera screen office, watching as Alfred check Kronos's temperature, painless blood drawn, checking her heart and breathing and gave a clear full body examination to a couple heroes were shocked to see a long horrifyingly yet old looking scar on her stomach area that look like someone dragged something sharp and was stretched a bit wide.
That gave one point to Diana theory of Kronos story being warped dramatically, but the fact of that Zeus did cut opened Kronos's stomach to pull out his siblings pin true.
A couple of more minutes past with alfred carefully examination the baby boy who was a bit squirmish while alfred did a couple of comments obviously praising Kronos whom face flushed a rather colorful red blush turning her head a bit. Alfred did asked and provides Kronos and Her baby much better comfortable Maternal and baby clothes then what they were currently wearing.
By the time alfred came out of the containment cell, alfred's soft gentleman look shifted a bit, before speaking after handing the vials of swirling golden glowing blood.
"Both madam and the child are well, a bit underweight, Ms. Kronos will need headache relief medicine, both her and the child is in need of a very light seasoned meal and drinks to not overwhelmed their senses in which I'll be providing." Alfred told then after handing the written documents forms of the examination. Batman could only grunt a bit, considering he trying not to look back at Alfred's glance considering his armored wrist had a tiny bite marks that actually dented the armor with indents.
"Ms. Kronos did asked what and where is this place as I asked what was the last thing she recalled was falling from Olympic while trying to hide her child but as she spoke, it seem to cause her abdominal pain that seem to be PTSD related." Alfred said to which batman nod knowing that Alfred would never lied to him.
Part 3 << >> Part 5
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