#how every word shows desperation and manipulation just- god- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lalunanymph · 2 years ago

Text

rin used to believe he was undeserving of love until you came along to show him otherwise.

-> fem!reader, mdni for seggsy love-making :>>

a/n. rin as a character was made for love *drops mic n runs*

“look at me.”

your boyfriend’s voice, so deep and resonant, filled you with a sense of love so strong, you were sure you could just crumble.

rin hovered above you, his presence like the sun, burning painfully behind your closed lids, but intimately spreading warmth over every inch of your skin.

it’s maddening how much of a hold he has on you. rin was inked into your soul like a tattoo, every beat of your heart whispering cadences of love for him and him alone. brushing back his glossy dark green bangs from his face, you take the opportunity to cup his cheeks.

(those cheeks that stubbornly held onto remnants of some puppy fat—never fully melting away even as he’s already a man of 25).

your thumbs draw slow patterns on the high planes of his cheekbones, and rin is almost drowning from the overwhelming pangs in his heart at how soft you look right now; how perfect you were for him in every sense of the word.

mine, his heart sang. all mine.

and rin would never admit it out loud but he’s a terribly selfish man when it comes to you.

… especially when it comes to you.

for years he had to contend with living in his older brother’s shadow—manipulated by his apathy and disinterest to become the best at everything he could be—that he almost failed to realize how many precious moments he let slip away.

you were close to being one of those chances he nearly lost.

but, ever since he saw you in the stands, wearing his jersey (even though the only thing he knew about you was that your face was far too pretty to be sitting this close to the barrier)—rin was already yours.

(he thanks his stars every single day his sharp eyes caught your lovely grin from amongst a sea of nameless faces.)

it’s pathetic, really.

rin wishes his stupid heart wouldn’t be this soft; this susceptible to a drop of kindness.

he thinks he doesn’t deserve it.

who is he, really, to have the privilege to feel your soft breaths caressing his ear as you shakily tell him ‘please—need you deeper in me, rin’?

how does even begin to fathom that he is deserving of your glassy smile when you hook your thighs tighter around his slim waist?

nobody. i am nobody.

“rin,” you keen softly, carding your fingers through his hair, lower lip taken hostage by your perfect teeth. “you feel so good, baby.”

your nails stab into his shoulder, but he ignores the bite of pain because it reminds him of how completely, tragically and wonderfully human he truly is. not some soccer demi-god striking through the endless thicket of upheavals and callous disregard to reach for the heavens where the gods resided.

but a man.

purely and wholly human and so, so deserving of love.

rin lets his emotions run wild in this bedroom; letting the love, passion and yearning consume him till he’s gasping for breath, getting onto his knees so he can worship you like you absolutely deserve.

the world tilts for a split second, your sanity anchored only by his strong arms around your waist. rin has you straddling his lap, your thighs hooked around his mid-section like an ever-loving vine. this position drove his cock deeper into you, moulding as one with your walls like he was made for you.

“rin,” you gasp, slotting your face into his neck, unable to take the piercing teal stare worming its way into your soul. “nghmm—f-fuck… can feel so deep in me…”

your words fade out into a whine and rin thinks his clandestine grin could’ve rivaled a cheshire cat’s. his strong hands effortlessly grasp at your waist, rocking you up and down his cock to hit all your sweet spots; drinking in every drunken moan of his name leaving your pleasure-soaked lips.

“look at me,” he commanded again, but this time, there’s an edge to his tone—desperation.

it made him throb all over when you meekly peel yourself from his neck, fixing your teary eyes onto him. he knows the intensity of this situation; how hard it is for you to look him at him squarely when he’s wrecking your body so confidently and passionately.

(you would always be the moon and he was your burning sun, piercing hot with vitality).

rin remembers how he used to be like a caged tiger waiting to be released; his long dormant affection for anyone waiting for the right catalyst.

that’s when you came along and everything was all right with the universe for the first time.

the tears sticking your lashes together make his heart double in speed, and rin’s panting like he’s on the verge of scoring a risky goal. the bed frame shakes underneath his relentless thrusting and your eager reciprocation. he can feel the sweet, tight muscles forming his nirvana squeezing down oh-so-perfectly on his cock like the prettiest love confession.

“good girl. good, good, girl… so good. there you go, there you go,” he coaxes, kneading your ass feverishly with his large, sturdy palms. “you’re so close, fuckkk—you’re close. let’s cum together, baby. do it with me? please.”

rin has never shamelessly begged for anything in his life quite like how he’s begging you to cum together with him. he’s delirious, one step closer to whiting out from the sheer pleasure. he feels nothing but your cheek press to his cheek, your breaths shared as one; the slightest tickling pressure of your lashes against his forehead.

the both of you were as close as humanly possible but rin is a greedy man. he wants more—demands for more.

“tell me you’re mine.” his strain words drew a lick of surprise on your features, but the snarl on his face was enough to tell you that he was putty to your addictive pussy. “tell me you’re mine and mean it.”

a simple enough request considering he meant everything to you.

“yours,” you hiccup, pressing an open mouth kiss to his jaw. it’s sloppy and desperate but it appeases him nonetheless. his nose rubs against yours, and you feel your heart kick up a notch when he starts to graze your lips with his; giving you soft, barely there kisses that contrast vividly with his heavy thrusts. “i’m all yours, rin. all yours.”

“f-fuck…” he lines his forehead with yours, and something about how intimate this position is, how needy his perfectly hot and rough his hands felt running down your back, has you close to tears.

rin tilts his face to slot your lips closer, and tastes your tears staining his tongue.

he doesn’t comment on them; merely smears them away one by one with his mouth, peppering your cheeks and chin with heavy, sloppy kisses that distract him from the tightening coil in his belly. you kiss him back ardently—passionately—with everything you have; everything which wasn’t already his.

his ears are ringing and his breath is coming out in dense pants. rin is drowning in you; your scent, your taste, your arms around him, your tongue in his mouth. it pushes him down the edge the same moment your pussy seizes around his cock.

those sweet muscles flutter and squeeze with such immaculate perfection he could weep, and rin swears he does; swears a tear dances off his lash line and splatters somewhere on your shoulder. i’ve never cried before, he told you once during your earlier dating days.

what a goddamn lie that turned out to be.

you careen down the edge with as much poise as he did; which is to say, you press him deeper into the crook of your neck, body writhing in this white-hot dance with his name echoing off these walls.

rin can barely feel his legs when he sets you back down onto the bed, curling himself above you as the dear curve of his head rests solidly in between your breasts—a familiar weight you love.

tangling your fingers in his hair, you gently scratch his scalp and he grunts, in a daze from his orgasm and clingier than usual

“rin?” your soft voice blends as one into the warm afterglow.

he hums and lifts his head, drowsy teal eyes and sated little smirk eliciting a sweet giggle from you.

“i love you.”

he sighs happily, content when you start to card your fingers through his hair again.

there’s not a lifetime in this universe where he doesn’t imagine himself to be yours.

“i love you, too.”

and there’s not a moment in your life where you ever underestimate the privilege of fully owning itoshi rin’s heart.

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

#itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin smut #rin itoshi x you #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi smut #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #bllk x reader #short ‘n’ sweet 🎀#🦢 writes

2K notes · View notes

sirenedeslily · 11 days ago

Text

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒 ‎𐦍 𝐦atthew 𝐬turniolo

❛ i’m 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 from the 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞. ❜

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 matt thought the crash was the first tremor, the first sign that everything was unraveling. but when yn vanished, the woods grew colder, the trees twisted into shadows, and nothing—not even their love—could hide from the dark that followed.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, angst, cannibalism (not too descriptive), psychological manipulation, slight use of religious imagery, trauma, gore, morally grey characters, death, this is set in a yellowjackets-inspired universe, drawing on the show’s general premise without incorporating its specific plot.. so no spoilers of the actual series !!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭, 3k !

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬, this fic’s plots is completely me, i cannot stress it enough !! while the yellowjacket girls make an appearance, i only borrowed the general themes of the crash and the cannibalism aspect from the show. what happens here is completely separate from the actual series, so the outcomes of the yellowjacket characters do not reflect their portrayal in the show. eeeeeeeenjoy

the crash wasn’t the worst part.

not the grinding sound of the engines tearing themselves apart mid-air, not the cabin screams that split the air sharper than metal, not the sick pull of gravity as we spiraled down. not even the splintered bodies lying limp in the wreckage. that part ended. it was brutal, yes, but quick. final.

the worst part came after.

the fear swallowed us whole, silent and endless. the trees whispered things that didn’t make sense, shadows moved at the edge of sight, and the fear burrowed into our bones, becoming a part of us. hunger, though, that was louder than any scream. it started small, a tremor, an ache, and then it became everything. it clawed through every thought, every shred of hope.

“we’ll make it.” that’s what matt said. his voice had this strange certainty, like words alone could hold back the dark. we were dragging scraps of metal and wood into a crude pile that might pass as shelter. his hands were red and raw. “you’re tough, yn. you’ll survive this.”

i nodded because i didn’t want to say what we were both thinking.

hunger changes people. you don’t notice it all at once, just the little cracks forming. one day, someone takes an extra bite from their ration. the next, someone else disappears into the woods, and when they come back, their pockets are empty, but their lips are slick. we watched each other through the smoke of the fire, saw the hollows forming in each other’s cheeks, the glint of something desperate in everyone’s eyes.

i was the first.

the others would pretend it was the forest, the cold, or god himself that took me. but it wasn’t. not really. it was them—their eyes, their hunger, their hands.

i didn’t climb that tree to save myself. i climbed it for matt. his stupid lighter, the one he swore was more important to him than anything else, had gotten stuck in the branches. he said it was the last piece of home he had, the last piece of himself.

so i climbed.

the bark splintered in my palms as i climbed higher, the wind ripping at my face. i didn’t think about the branches snapping beneath me or how far i’d fall. i didn’t think about myself at all.

i thought about him.

when the branch pierced my stomach, i didn’t scream. not at first. i just stared at it—jagged, wet, too much. then i slipped, and the second branch tore through my thigh.

i held onto the lighter. i held on even when i hit the ground.

but no one came.

i lay there for hours, the blood soaking into the dirt beneath me. i tried to crawl back, but the woods stretched on endlessly. my nails scraped against the earth, my breath hitched in my throat, and the sky flickered above, like a fading light—undecided, as though it couldn’t choose whether to help or simply watch me die.

by the second day, i was too weak to move. the blood had dried, sticky and black, and the roots curled around me like they were pulling me under. i tried to pray, but my voice cracked, so i bit into the dirt instead.

god didn’t save me.

but the woods were there.

they buried me beneath the leaves, letting the branches weave themselves through my skin. they made me part of them—part of everything.

the others didn’t find me until it was too late.

i remember the way they stared.

shauna cursed under her breath, her face hard like she was trying not to care. jackie gasped, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes filling with tears she wouldn’t let fall. nat turned away, and tai kept her arms crossed, biting the inside of her cheek like she wanted to disappear.

but matt…

matt knelt beside me, his hands trembling as he picked up the lighter from where it had fallen, his thumb brushing over the bloodstains on the metal.

he didn’t cry. he just stared at me, like he was seeing me for the first time.

i don’t know how long they left me there. maybe it was days. maybe weeks. the forest swallowed time like it swallowed me, stretching it out until they couldn’t take it anymore.

they stopped looking at me like i was yn—the girl who argued with nat about firewood, who laughed too loud when jackie told bad jokes, who kissed matt behind the cabin when no one else was looking.

they started looking at me like i was something else.

lottie was the first. she whispered that i was chosen, that the forest had claimed me but left me for them. she lit candles by my body, pressed her hands to the ground like she was trying to feel my heartbeat through the earth.

the others followed.

they stopped saying my name. they started calling me a gift. a sign. a saviour.

matt didn’t say a word.

but i could feel his hands, brushing the leaves from my hair, smoothing the blood from my cheeks. i could feel how he stayed by my side even as the others began to lose themselves.

it wasn’t devotion.

it was desperation.

and when the hunger finally broke them, it wasn’t lottie who made the first cut. it wasn’t shauna, or misty, or even tai.

it was matt.

i watched him with the knife in his hand, his jaw tight, his eyes dark. he told himself it was for them, that it was for me. but i knew the truth.

it wasn’t love that drove him. it was guilt.

the air was thick with smoke and desperation. they whispered things like “it’s what she would’ve wanted.” like that made it less cruel.

they consumed me piece by piece, carving me into something i never was. i felt it all—not the pain, but the betrayal. lottie whispered prayers as she chewed. shauna didn’t say a word. nat wouldn’t look at me, her shoulders shaking as she tried to convince herself this wasn’t what it was.

it took them weeks to tear me apart.

but it would take them years to forget.

matt wouldn’t, though.

he carried me with him, in the dirt beneath his fingernails, in the whispers of the trees, in the ache that settled in his chest every time he thought of me.

they called me an angel. a prophet.

but i wasn’t.

they called me a saviour. said i saved them. turned my name into something holy, something they could cling to when the guilt crept in.

they lied to themselves because the truth was too much to bear. i wasn’t their salvation. i wasn’t their light.

i was the first.

the first meal.

the wilderness turned me into something they could use. a forest maiden wrapped in moss, silent and still, hanging like the last line of a song.

the roots, the branches, the dirt. i was the hunger that twisted them into something monstrous.

and matt?

matt would never escape me.

because no matter how much of me he consumed, no matter how much he buried me beneath his guilt, he knew the truth.

i wasn’t a gift. i wasn’t salvation.

i was betrayal.

and he loved me anyway.

i lingered in him like rot.

everytime matt closed his eyes, i was there—my body stretched out on the forest floor, blood pooling beneath me, my fingers still curled around that lighter. he could still see the wounds, the gaping holes that the branches had carved into me. and he could still hear my voice, though he told himself it was just the wind moving through the trees.

i wasn’t letting him go.

the others moved on in their way. lottie twisted the story of my death into something holy, a sign of the forest’s will. she told them i had been chosen because i was pure, because i had given myself to something greater. they needed to believe it. they needed to make my suffering mean something.

shauna didn’t believe it—not really. but she clung to it anyway, like she clung to everything that made her feel powerful. she became a shadow of herself, the dog that lottie trained to obey. shauna sharpened the knives. shauna prepared the fires. shauna made it easy for them to swallow me, to carve me into pieces until i was unrecognizable.

jackie didn’t touch me.

she stayed in the cabin most days, silent and trembling, her eyes red and swollen. i think she knew what would happen to her next. it didn’t matter that she hadn’t eaten me, that she had refused to look at me once they carried my body back. she knew the forest wouldn’t spare her.

and nat—god, nat. she carried the weight of all of it on her shoulders. she cursed herself for not finding me sooner, for not hearing my screams. she never prayed with lottie, never touched the offerings. but she wasn’t innocent. she had eaten me too. they all had.

even matt.

especially matt.

he stayed by my side, even when the others began to look at me as a thing, a relic, a resource. he refused to leave the spot where they had placed me, curling his body around mine like i could still feel his warmth. he whispered to me when no one else was listening, told me he was sorry, told me it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

but his hands betrayed him.

when they carved into me, when they pulled me apart, matt didn’t look away. he didn’t stop them. he held the knife himself, trembling but determined. i don’t know what he told himself in those moments—maybe that i would’ve wanted this, that it was a kindness, that it was survival.

but i could feel him breaking.

he tried to bury what he had done, what they had all done. but i wouldn’t let him.

i was in the dirt he walked on, in the branches that scraped against the cabin windows at night, in the silence of the forest that stretched on for miles. i was in his mind, in the flicker of the lighter he couldn’t bear to throw away, in the breath he couldn’t seem to catch every time he thought of me.

matt loved me.

but love wasn’t enough to save me.

and now, it wasn’t enough to save him.

because i was everywhere now. in every shadow, in every prayer lottie whispered, in every crackling fire that reminded them of the warmth they had once known.

i was everything they had turned me into.

and i was never leaving.

they carried me with them. not my memory, not the person i was, but what i’d turned into. they left pieces of themselves in the leaves, the dirt, the jagged roots of the forest that had consumed me. but they carried pieces of me, too—in their blood, in their bones, in their guilt.

when they walked out of the wilderness and into the arms of rescue, i stayed behind.

the world called them survivors. they painted them as heroes, as victims, as something worth saving. they didn’t know the truth. they didn’t know what they did to me, how they turned me into something i wasn’t

but matt—matt still visits me. not the real me, not the girl i was before the crash, but the idea of me that he’s convinced himself exists. he comes every year, kneeling at the polished stone that bears my name. it isn’t really my grave—just a polished stone with my name on it, a symbol for the girl you needed me to be. a hollow monument, as hollow as the promises he whispered into my dead ears.

“you saved us,” he whispers sometimes, like saying it enough times might make it true.

but i wasn’t their saviour.

i was their sacrifice.

and they had no right to me.

he brings lilies every time—delicate, white, pristine as the snow that buried jackie later, pristine as the image of me he’s built in his head. he lays them down carefully, his hands shaking as if the act itself is sacred.

i hate the lilies.

he doesn’t talk much, just sits there for hours like the weight of my name carved into stone might somehow balance the weight on his chest. Sometimes he cries, quiet and ashamed, like he knows i’m watching, like he can feel the anger twisting in the empty space i’ve become.

but other times.. most times, he’s silent. not out of peace, but out of exhaustion. he looks thinner every year, his face pale and hollow, haunted by the ghosts he doesn’t dare name aloud.

i wonder if he hears me. if he can feel the cold breath of my resentment when the wind rustles the trees or the sharp edge of my betrayal in the silence that stretches between us.

it doesn’t matter.

none of their apologies matter.

because i am not that girl in the stories they tell themselves to sleep at night.

tai, who circled like a vulture, never touching but always hungry, until she finally sank her teeth into me, reshaping me into something twisted, something unrecognizable; nat, who whispered quiet lies into my ear, feeding me fragments of myself until there was nothing left but the hollow echo of who i used to be; shauna, who sharpened the knives and prepared the fire but pretends she wasn’t the first to look at me with that kind of hunger. van, who laughed too loudly and cried too quietly and ate me anyway. misty, who smiled as she said my name, who let herself believe it was all just survival. even lottie, with her empty eyes and her false divinity, calling me something holy while she carved into me like i was already gone.

they all came at first.

in the weeks after they were found, they came with trembling hands and whispered prayers. they placed offerings at my grave—tokens of their guilt disguised as gratitude. “you saved us,” they said, over and over, as if they could rewrite what happened with repetition alone.

but then they stopped coming.

the world beyond the wilderness swallowed them whole, wrapped them in warmth and comfort until they could almost forget the cold. almost.

nat tells herself that every breath she takes is a result of my sacrifice. she thinks of me when she looks in the mirror, when the guilt weighs heavy on her chest. she pretends that my death was necessary, that it’s what kept her alive, but she knows the truth—she watched as i was consumed, and she couldn’t stop it.. didn’t stop it.

tai tells herself that what she did was survival, that it wasn’t personal. she thinks of me when she’s alone in the dark, when the night feels too quiet. she pretends that my end was just another part of the game, but the truth gnaws at her, and she can never quite forget the way she let it happen.

shauna tells herself that every joy in her life is my gift to her. she thinks of me when her daughter laughs, when the candles on the birthday cake flicker in the warm light of her kitchen. she pretends my death bought her happiness.

van dreams of me, sometimes, though she never speaks my name. she sees me in the shadows, in the dirt beneath her fingernails, in the roots that still cling to her boots when she wakes. she tastes me in the back of her throat, bitter and rotten.

misty doesn’t dream at all.

and lottie—lottie prays to me. even now, even after everything, she still believes i was chosen, that i was destined to feed the earth, to become the roots and the trees and the endless, hungering dark.

but matt—matt keeps coming back. year after year, he carries my ghost with him, dragging it behind him like a broken promise. he looks at the stone, and i wonder if he’s seeing me or the version of me he created to survive.

i wasn’t a saviour. i wasn’t a martyr. i wasn’t the girl who gave herself willingly for the sake of the group.

i was terrified. i was angry. i died clutching the edges of my own fading humanity, praying that someone, anyone, would remember me as i was, not as what they turned me into.

but the wilderness doesn’t let you stay human.

it hollows you out. it makes you a vessel for hunger, for fear, for survival. and when it’s done, it spits you back out into the world, a monster in the shape of a person.

matt isn’t a monster, not in the way the others are.

he’s worse.

he’s the one who carries the weight of all their sins. he’s the one who lets it break him, piece by piece, as if his suffering could ever be enough to absolve them.

but guilt isn’t justice.

it’s not forgiveness, and it’s not redemption. It’s just another kind of hunger, gnawing away at the edges of his soul.

i want to scream at him, shake him, make him see that his penance means nothing to me.

but he doesn’t know me either.

none of them do.

they don’t know the girl who climbed that tree because matt’s lighter was stuck at the top and he couldn’t sleep without it. they don’t know the girl who laughed too loudly, who loved too fiercely, who was afraid of the dark but never said it out loud. they don’t know the girl who screamed when the branch stabbed through her side, who crawled, bleeding and broken, through the dirt while the wilderness swallowed her whole.

they don’t know the girl who died alone, hungry, cold, choking on dirt she thought might keep her alive just a little longer.

all they know is the version of me they created.

the saint. the saviour. the pretty girl consumed by death.

you don’t know the girl i was, the girl i could’ve been if you hadn’t taken everything from me. and now, i am the trees, the roots, the forest itself. i am the thing you buried and the thing you carry, and you will never escape me.

matt, you will never know me. no matter how many lilies you bring, no matter how many hours you spend staring at that stone, whispering apologies i’ll never accept.

i am not your saviour.

i am the girl you betrayed.

and every year, when the lilies bloom and the wind whispers through the trees, I wonder if you feel it—if you hear my voice, sharp and cold as the wilderness that made us.

you don’t even know me.

and you never will.

the wilderness stripped us bare, turned us into something monstrous, something less than human. you think you carried me out of it, but i was gone long before you walked away. i’m hanging from the tree, suspended in your mind, a phantom you can’t escape.

i hope you know i loved you. even after everything, even after the lies and the hunger and the fire, i loved you. but i wasn’t your saviour. i wasn’t your salvation.

i was just a girl—a girl who loved, and in the end, that was all i was allowed to be.

𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ we knew this was bound to happen as the #1 yellowjacket truther.. sneaked in some jackieshauna and lottieshauna for my own personal benefit :p also i know it’s repetitive but it’s purposeful.. omg send me asks ab this plsplspls

❝ 𝟐𝟐𝟐 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @eternaldecisions @elizabebabe @ncm9696 @marrykisskilled

❝ 𝟑𝟑𝟑 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @l34n @sturniolossss @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 @mattslolita @mattssgf @le4hsblog @brvtall @mattscoquette @chratts-left-ball @jetaimevous @angelesqve @starlace111 @secretlocket @starkeyszn @etherealval @slut4chriss @star-yawnznn @nickmillersn1gf @sturnsmia @tastesousweet @strnilolover @xoxo4chrisss @madifilipowiczslvt

#sirenedeslily ✶ ˖ ࣪#matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #yellowjackets #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo headcanon #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo triplets x you #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets

116 notes · View notes

officialaemondtargaryen · 8 months ago

Text

Fall In Love With A Girl

❝she'll make you feel like the world is on your shoulder.❞

Summary: What can go wrong, will go wrong. That is until you meet the most beautiful woman you've ever seen and her brother's puppy.

Pairing: Modern Helaena Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~3.3k

Author’s Note: This is a re-write of an old fic of mine. I'm in my re-writing era and this is Megan's Version. I felt like this would be the perfect time to remind everyone that I love women.

Warnings: language, fluff, women loving women (if you are against this unfollow me?)

There were certain rules to being a veterinary technician.

Number one, waterproof mascara and eyeliner always; you’ll never get used to those abuse cases or having to hold someone’s hand as they say goodbye to their beloved pet. Number two, carry a lint roller on you at all times; it’s best to get the pocket-sized one, because both dogs and cats shed a lot! Especially Bella the Saint Bernard who was due for her yearly check up today. Number three, iron your scrubs! And it’s probably best to keep an extra pair in your car, because it’s more likely than not that you’ll end up getting peed on by someone’s over-excited pup.

Even though you knew these rules by heart and you followed them every single day of your work life, today was an exception. It was just one of those days that absolutely nothing- no matter how hard you tried- was going right. You were covered in fluffy cat hairs, Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell, Hankie, peed on your leg twice, and you had run out of waterproof mascara. So, when Mr. Langley brought in his thirteen year old Labrador to put her down, he cried and so you cried, and in the end you looked like the raccoon that liked to sneak into the office dumpsters at closing hoping to find some cat food.

Today just wasn’t your day.

It was fifteen minutes until closing time, and you could feel the excitement and exhaustion in your bones. You were desperate for rest, to go home and take a shower, crawl in bed and watch terribly written romantic comedies on Netflix until you passed out. If only you could snap your fingers and make those last few minutes fly by, but that was impossible and unfortunately manipulating time wasn’t a superpower you had acquired yet, so instead you swept and mopped the floors for the sixth time that day.

And that was when you heard it.

The tiny bell over the door chimed, signaling that a customer had just walked in and you could hear the pitter-patter of doggie feet on the linoleum floors. As far as you knew, there weren’t any more customers scheduled for the day; the last appointment was over thirty minutes ago and they were a no-show. From your spot in the back hallway, you could hear your coworker, talking to the patient and before you knew it, she was charging through the back door. You took one look at her, knowing what her question would be before she even opened her mouth. That shit-eating-grin was always plastered on her face when she wanted something.

“No,” you said as you swept the dirt into the dustpan.

“Come on, bestie,” she whined. “I really need to get out of here on time tonight! It’s just a simple check-up and she seems really nice! Please will you take them?”

Not wanting to argue or cause an issue, you sighed, exhaling every ounce of oxygen in your lungs before finally giving in. She was practically beaming with excitement as your shoulders slumped, eyes rolling back as you sat the broom down.

“Oh, my God! Thank you so much! I owe you, big time,” she went to hug you but you stepped to the side, avoiding her embrace at all costs.

You simply nod at your coworker as you try to dust some of the cat hairs from your scrubs. It was no use, and you knew that, but still, you at least tried to look more professional. After the day you’ve had, you should have known that clocking out on time was just too good to be true, but you still put a smile on your face as you walked up to the front desk. One day you’d cash in on all of the times she owed you for, but today wasn’t that day. Everything that could have gone wrong today had already gone wrong, and at this point you were only giving in to her for the plot. What else could possibly happen?

When you got to the front desk, you looked over the counter to see the customer on one knee as she played with the tiny puppy; rubbing its belly and tickling its sides.

“How can I help you?” You asked with that fake customer service voice.

The young woman turned around and looked up at you, flashing one of the most brilliant smiles you had ever seen, and you could have sworn that a chorus of angels were singing in the background– or maybe it was just the classical music on the radio that your boss liked to play, who knows? She was absolutely stunning though, with her pale blonde hair and striking lavender eyes.

“Hey, uh- I had an appointment for this little guy,” she replied with a soft smile as she moved to stand.

“Okay,” you nodded, trying to remember to breathe. You could smell her perfume as she took a step up to the counter. “What’s this little guy’s name?”

“His name is Sunfyre.”

“Oh,” you realized that this was that no-show appointment that should have been here thirty minutes ago. It was then that you looked right past her good looks and lilac scented perfume and let the irritation settle back in. “You’re Mr. Targaryen? You had an appointment with us at 5:00.”

The woman rubbed a hand on the back of her neck and gave you a sheepish smile.

“Not Mr. Targaryen, that’s my brother. I’m Helaena,” then she lets out a sigh. “He’s out of town and forgot to mention that I needed to be here until ten minutes before I was supposed to be here and then there was traffic, and I’m really sorry that I’m late. I hope I can still get him in, I mean, if that’s okay. If it’s too late then I’ll just make another appointment, I guess”

Your eyes widened as she rambled on and then you smiled at her. If it were anyone else, you probably would have told them to make another appointment and kick rocks. But this girl was just so gorgeous and her smile was just so beautiful, and your hopes of getting home on time were already sacked, so you led her back to the exam room and told her that it was no problem.

“Hopefully this doesn’t take too long,” she mentioned as she picked Sunfyre up and sat him on the table.

Wait, was she actually rushing you?

“I’ve got this stupid thing I’m supposed to go to tonight,” she continued as you checked the puppy’s weight.

She really was rushing you.

“It’s a blind date that Aegon, uh-”

Before she could say ‘Mr. Targaryen’, you nodded your head to let her know that you understood who she was talking about.

“Yeah,” Helaena kept on, not really caring that you weren’t really listening. “He set it up and I’m just nervous. I’ve never really been on a date- well, I’ve been on dates, but never a blind one. With the way this day has been going, he’ll probably end up being an alien with six eyes.”

“I know how you feel,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“Oh, I just agreed with you,” you replied, not really wanting to go into details about your day with a girl who was about to go on a blind date and probably fall in love with someone that wasn’t the vet tech with a piss stain on her leg. Besides, her blind date was with a man which meant your chances were pretty much shot. “About the way this day has been going.”

“You’ve had a bad day, too?”

“I’m going to let Dr. Strong know you’re ready and we’ll try to get you out of here as soon as possible,” you say, ignoring her question.

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” she replied as you shuffled out of the exam room.

Your boss looked up at you from his desk and raised his eyebrows underneath his glasses. You said nothing and only dropped the puppy’s chart on his desk with a thud, before turning back around and heading into the back hallway. You could hear that Helaena girl sweet talking the pup from behind the door and your expression softened for a moment. But that was only until you glanced at the clock and saw that it was well past closing time, and you should’ve been walking through your front door right now; maneuvering out of your bra and kicking off your non-slip, worn out tennis shoes. Your frown came right back as you looked over the front desk, making sure everything was in order before your boss eventually called you in for an extra hand.

You sighed as you saw that your coworker had bailed on stamping the outgoing bill statements, a job which was tedious and tiring, and usually ended in cramped hands and sticky fingertips. With a soft groan, you sat down, flexing your toes in your shoes and tried to quickly stamp as many envelopes as you could.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dr. Strong called from somewhere within the office. “Can you lend me a hand for a moment?”

You stood up and tossed the envelopes in the mailing bin before heading towards the back hallway.

“What’s up, doc?” You asked with a forced grin as you tried to lighten the mood. Your boss, Harwin, had been under constant stress ever since his partner veterinarian, Dr. Tully, quit the practice to focus on his family.

“Can you draw me up 1cc of Nobivac?” He asked as he scribbled something down in the chart in front of him. “And I’m going to need you in the room when I administer it, there’s a note in the little guy’s chart that says he’s not very good with shots.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied as you pulled the keys to the medical cabinet out of the front pocket of your scrubs.

Helaena smiled at you when you entered the exam room once again. The puppy in her hands jumped in your direction, tail wagging from side to side as he whined for attention. “I think he likes you,” the girl commented as she tried to hold the puppy back.

“That’s nice,” you replied with a soft smile, not really wanting to make small talk with Ms. I-Have-A-Blind-Date-Can-You-Hurry-Up. “But he’s probably not going to like me very much after getting poked.”

“Probably not,” Helaena laughed. You couldn’t help but feel a little light-headed at the sight of her smile, despite your tough facade. The sound of her laugh was just as attractive, if not more so. “But who knows, maybe he’ll forgive you.”

Dr. Strong stepped into the room, cutting your conversation short to begin his own spiel; informing Sunfyre’s short term owner of the possible side effects of the rabies vaccine, and also why it is important to have one. Information that, hopefully, Helaena would pass on to the absent Mr. Targaryen.

While your boss prepped the puppy for his first rabies shot, your job was to try and distract the little guy as much as possible and to keep him comfortable, of course. Helaena stood off to the side, letting the two of you work your magic, and within seconds- without even so much as a yelp- the procedure was finished and Sunfyre’s tail was still wagging.

“All done,” you cooed, placing a kiss on the puppy’s wet nose.

“Looks like he still likes you,” Helaena said as she hooked Sunfyre’s leash back to his collar. “I had a feeling he would.”

You went to say something, but Dr. Strong got there first, sticking his hand out to Helaena for a handshake and saying, “It was nice to meet you. Please tell Mr. Targaryan that we look forward to seeing him at the next visit, which you can coordinate at the front desk.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“You can follow me, this way,” you told her, ushering her and Sunfyre out of the exam room and into the lobby. “That’ll be $115,” you told her after tallying up the total sum of the visit.

She let out a low whistle and pulled her wallet from her back pocket, “is there any way to leave a tip for your excellent customer service?”

You let out a dry laugh, and bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something that would get you in trouble. “While I appreciate the offer, you should probably save it for your date tonight.”

“Date?” She asked as she signed the credit card receipt. “Shit, right, my date!” She exclaimed, thrusting the tiny piece of paper your way. “I gotta go!”

You made a face and hurriedly handed her a copy of the bill and a rabies tag for Sunfyre.

“Good luck,” you told her as she rushed out the front door. “And you're welcome,” you said with a frown after she didn’t even say ‘thank you’.

Happy that your day was finally over, you couldn’t help but feel like you had just been kicked in the gut. As you finished stamping the monthly statements, your mind was stuck on what Helaena and her blind date– who may or may not be an alien with six eyes– were doing right now. Was he smart? Was he making her laugh? Did he appreciate how absolutely breathtaking her smile was? Did she see him and immediately know that he was the one she had been searching for? Did time stop?

“Hey,” you heard Dr. Strong’s voice from behind you and realized that you had been standing in the same spot for minutes now, holding a stack of envelopes that you had meant to drop into the bin. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied as you came back to reality.

“Don’t forget you’re fostering Nugget tonight to make sure that he doesn’t pull out his stitches,” he told you before disappearing back into the hallway.

“Ah, yes, Nugget,” you replied, mostly to yourself, as you were sure your boss was out of earshot. “The overweight Chihuahua who looks like he ate one, too many nuggets. I couldn’t be more excited.”

After you locked up and had Nugget on a leash, you said your goodbyes to your boss; happy as ever that- even though it was well after dark- you were finally going home. You picked the chunky Chihuahua up, making sure not to touch his freshly removed manhood and placed him in the backseat, where he quickly made a home. Before you even pulled your seatbelt on, you pulled your hair out of its ponytail and ran your fingers over your tender scalp. It was the first step to comfort after what you were sure was the worst days you might have ever had. You’d take your shoes off if you could,, but you were sure there was some crazy law about driving barefoot, so you left them on.

Nugget stayed quiet for most of the way, until he unexpectedly started to whine. Thinking that he might need to go potty, you pulled over into the parking lot of an ice cream parlor. He hopped out of your backseat gingerly, and led you over to the grassy area where he proceeded to squat and relieve himself.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you heard from across the parking lot and turned to see none other than Mrs. Blind Date herself, Helaena. Just when you thought this day was starting to get better, she began walking toward you with Sunfyre in tow.

“Oh, hi,” you replied, cautiously looking around for the hot shot that would inevitably be introduced as her date. You didn’t want to ask, but curiosity got the best of you and, “how was your date?”

“Well, I was supposed to meet him here and he never showed,” she replied, looking a bit dejected. “I’m honestly not surprised at all. I mean, if you knew my brother, you probably wouldn’t be surprised either. Besides, what else should one expect from a man?” You laughed at that. “I was just about to leave, but then I saw you, and figured I’d say hello.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling again at her rambling, unable to help yourself when you heard that there was no date, and that this extremely attractive stranger was somehow still single. “Well, hello.”

Helaena smiled brightly before taking notice of Nugget, who was shaking at the thought of being petted by someone new, and dropped down to a knee so that she could reach him. “Who’s this little chunker?”

“This is Nugget,” you replied. “I’m fostering him for the night.”

“Fitting name,” she laughed, standing back to her regular height. “So, can I buy you an ice cream? I don’t think I said thanks before I ran out of your office earlier and I’d like to make it up to you.”

“Sure,” you replied quickly before you gave yourself a chance to say no. “I mean, yeah, that would be nice.”

Helaena smiled as you fell in step with each other, making your way to the front of the booth. Sunfyre and Nugget were playing with each other; romping around and playing together; putting you and Helaena into a few awkward positions as you had to unwrap their leashes from around each other’s legs. You learned that she was an artist, mostly oil paintings and photography, who lived on the quiet side of the city with Aegon, her brother. And you told her all about your bad day, and what it was like working in a veterinary office, and some of your funny stories from college.

Before you could even eat three bites of your ice cream, Nugget had coerced you into giving him most of it; which probably wasn’t what his actual owners intended for him to eat after his surgery. Helaena didn’t mind that the ice cream she had bought for you went to satisfying a fat Chihuahua’s sweet tooth, especially not when most of her own ice cream was being lapped up by little Sunfyre.

“Well, I should get home,” you told her after seeing the neon ‘open’ sign of the parlor shut off. “It’s getting late.”

She nodded, standing up from the bench that you had been sitting on, “It was really nice running into you.”

“I agree,” you replied with a smile.

“If you’d like to, maybe I can take you to dinner next?” She asked as she nervously ran a hand through her hair. You blinked a few times, wondering if you had heard her correctly or if it was your mind playing tricks on you. “You don’t have to.”

“I’d like to go to dinner with you,” you told her quickly and honestly.

“Really?” She asked excitedly. “I mean, that’s cool.”

“Should we?” You asked, taking out your phone to swap numbers and she laughed.

“That’s probably a good idea.”

You repeated the numbers twice to make sure she typed in the right ones, and after an awkward hug that seemed like it was almost a kiss on the cheek, you and Nugget happily walked back to your car. As soon as the driver’s side door was shut, you let out a joyous squeal and did a small dance in your seat. Your phone vibrated from the cup holder as you shifted into gear. You picked it up quickly and swiped at the screen until an unsaved number popped up on your screen. Your heart soared at the message that could only have been from one person.

212-555-6789

That was the best blind date ever! ;)

271 notes · View notes

cosymelody · 2 months ago

Note

Okay but you know what's better than Hylian space orc!Reader? Hylian space orc!Dom! Reader

Not only is there little content on Dom readers, If not (for what the chain is) I think that someone with a cold mind and who thinks about all the options and possibilities is more suitable to manage the chain, Of course the chain's bodies, mind, soul and heart already belong to Reader, but we already know what happens to the chain if they become too greedy, territorial, protective and more....So someone needs to teach them discipline, control and good behavior (it's like training dogs) (well with Twilight it may be very literal-)

So, yes, someone who analyzes the situation, the benefits and drawbacks, and learns to monopolize control (perhaps with a little manipulation involved) is more suitable, and very, very mentally strong.

YESSSSS THIS IS THE SHIT I LIVE FOR

Personally, this is my absolute FAVORITE kind of Reader so when I find even a crumb of content on it I absolutely DEVOUR it!

(Gn! Reader implied 👍)

Hylian Space Orc!Dom! Reader (aka HSO!Dom! Reader as I shall call it for now) is exactly how I imagine the reader when I write! Definitely not projecting myself into my own writing in a way hahaaa

HSO!Dom! Reader is definitely something I strive for in my writings since in many cases it can help to balance out the yandere tendencies of the Chain. Even more so when Reader can be an absolute sweetheart when the Chain behave, but can do a whole 360 and turn into a sadistic/scolding parent that puts the boys in there place, which for most of them would urge them to be good for their god/goddess just for a hint of praise and affection they desperately crave for.

Reader knows exactly what makes the boys tick and what causes their possessive urges to rise and has taken action to catch and calm them before they can even think about chasing killing off whoever it was that dared to take Reader's attention away from them. It's gotten to the point where Reader can so much as sense a slight hint of jealousy and diffuse the situation before it even occurs.

Don't get me wrong, Reader is happy to have the group of heroes so obsessed with them definitely not because they are just as obsessed if not more so than the Chain, but they aren't too fond of the fact that every shopkeeper and traveler they encounter seem to be scared off by the Chain due to the way the boys seem to glare daggers into the stranger that has Reader's attention. With the way they think and with how they seem to be much stronger than the boys due to the Chain having a different biological body structure, Reader can easily stop any fights between the Chain or with random people they encounter just by holding one of the Links to their chest or just throwing one or more of the boys over their shoulder. It especially helps with the more antsy and aggressive Links (Four, Twilight, Wild, Courage, Sage, etc.).

When one of them start acting just a slight bit passive-aggressive or start to become more possessive and violent, all it takes is one glare from Reader for them to know they are acting out of line and they should stop before they lose their beloved. Sometimes it doesn't work on a few of the boys, especially when they're insistent and stubborn on what they think is right, but they start to quickly learn and correlate good behavior with positive attention and praise from their angel.

The ones who would most likely be first to associate your positive attention with good behavior would most likely be Hyrule, First, Koridai, Warriors, and Time possibly a few more to name a few. They quickly get their act together and show a good side to Reader just to hear they're honeyed and addictive words that are definitely not laced with a tad bit of manipulation to pull the strings of their dear Chain, but even then, Reader can tell when they've went and offed someone behind their back which only results in a cold shoulder and them learning to progressively lower the bodies they have to hide and instead focus on behaving well for them.

When they do start to get better, they start getting more and more rewards from Reader which can be anywhere from more time together, more physical affection, more words of encouragement and love, and so much more which feeds into them being good and obedient for their Reader. It's like slowly taming a group of feral beasts, teaching them that if they do good in Reader's eyes, they get positive reinforcement and get to have more of their beloved to themselves.

With HSO!Dom! Reader, it's obvious they are stronger than the Links in more ways than one (physically, mentally, emotionally) and are more than capable of putting them in their place in order to calm their desire that burns within them so brightly. I definitely need to start putting this aspect into more of my writing in the future even though I already have in most of them!

If anyone would like to add on to this little idea, I'd LOVE to see what people think of this aspect not me writing this in the middle of the night when I've got work early in the morning! I also need to stop forgetting that I exist and I should probably keep doing this cuz I forget about all the WIPs I have ಠ_ಠ

#linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere link x reader #Humans are Hylian Space Orcs #HSO!Dom! Reader #melody-writes #melody-talks

75 notes · View notes

auspicioustidings · 1 year ago

Text

The Revelation

Summary: You are pretty happy with the cult you have made for yourself, but when two newcomers show up you can't help but think how far you could go with this.

(this is a one-shot, I stg if your only comment on this is to say 'part 2' I will feed you to the tomato plants! If you like it and have brain worms about it by all means send those to me and we can bounce ideas around)

Words: 6.6k

CWs: Cult shit, dubcon (everyone is manipulating each other here), light petplay (hope you're proud of yourself Bo I am incapable of writing Ghoap without Johnny being a puppy now), smut, murder, slight allusion to cannibalism (in a round about way, just putting it here for safety), Catholicism

The Death of God happened on a gloomy Thursday afternoon. One moment he had been mowing the lawn and the next thing he had an epiphany about hating his suburban life, hating his suburban wife, hating the 2 kids and hating the lawnmower he had spent his last bonus on.

The Revelation happened on a sunny Friday morning when you had popped up on his tiktok feed and told him that you understood him, that you were there for him. He had made his way to the commune, telling his wife it was just a visit to find himself. And he did. Which of course meant he never came home.

Truly you would consider yourself some what of a miracle working taking in this portly, charisma void of a businessman and turning him into some semblance of interesting. Well as interesting as anyone in this little slice of heaven. He had a fascination with growing tomatoes now. Good for him.

The hundreds of little deaths of God had been great for business. When someone had a crisis, when someone thought they were broken, when someone just couldn't fucking take it anymore, that's when they were so desperate to believe in something that you could make them happy with a smile and a kind word every so often. You could keep them happy (well, what they believed was happy and wasn't that all that mattered?) by keeping them a little tired, a little hungry and occasionally a little high. Good for the soul really, that's what you always said.

Surely you deserved to live on a steady diet of champagne, strawberries and decadence for all the good work you did. They all understood how difficult it was to be you. And despite your trials weren't you still so lovely to them? Even when they acted out you were gentle in your reminders that they needed fixing, that you were only ever there to help, that their friends and families would try and convince them otherwise because they didn't understand what it was to be broken. You opened your arms to them always, it was in their nature to err and in yours to forgive.

Honestly you could keep this up for the rest of your life. A small group of people devoted to you, happy in their worship and happy in their toil. No violence needed to keep them compliant, just a soft touch and the occasional psychological torture as necessary. You had no aspirations to go beyond this, you had it good. No need for a death cult or to make yourself an actual God to them. You already had your champagne and strawberries after all, life was good.

–

They were big, these two new men to your little oasis. It would be a tricky thing to half starve them you thought, but then it would also be a shame to have them lose all that bulk that you found you quite enjoyed looking at. Still, it was important for enlightenment and all that.

So you gave them a steady supply of soft smiles and reassuring touches, a diet of “yes this is an eco-living commune!” and “oh I never thought anyone would want to join me out here, I just got very lucky that so many wonderful people share the same morals.” They went easy of course, ex-military, used to structure and relying on someone above them to do the thinking. Perfect for you really, just two attack dogs that were impeccably trained.

They neglected to tell you that they hadn't been regular military, that they had been high ranked special operators in an elite task force. That would have made you suspicious after all and it was better you thought them stupid. Johnny had seen you on tiktok and wanted you and Simon never denied his boy anything, so here they were, playing you completely into their hands.

First it was getting themselves special privileges, unlimited access to food, a home right next to yours, full evenings of rest. Hadn't been hard to make you think it was your idea.

“Och it's alright lass, I ken we're naw military anymore. Dinnae need tae be a lean, mean, killing machine oot here.”

“Of course not Johnny, I'd hope you think you're very safe here.”

“Aye, feel safe with you. Ye look after us. Wish ye would let us look after you more!”

“I don't need anymore than I already have, but it's so wonderful of you to say, truly.”

Then a few days later when there had been time for that little declaration to settle in.

“Simon! How are you, I didn't see you yesterday.”

“Sorry, pulled my shoulder something awful. Felt like a right git not being able to do work properly.”

“Oh that's terrible, how did you pull it?”

“Ah just lack of training is all. Too used to being strong, retirement doesn't really lend itself to that.”

“You're still plenty strong!”

“I hope so. Some of the things I hear about what people's families think of you… if it ever came down to it, I want you to know I'd protect you with my life. Both me and Johnny would, strong or not.”

You had really been given an absolute gift here. That was something that had been making you a little paranoid. If family members escalated to violence there was really nothing you could do. You were a lover (here meaning awful con artist but that was just semantics) not a fighter. And now there was a solution right in your lap.

“How would you and Johnny feel about being security then? I'd hate to think we'd ever need it of course, but it would make people feel safer. Some of their families are terrible people I'm afraid, I don't want anyone to get hurt because someone tries something violent” you said gently, of course concerned for these innocent people being viciously abused by their awful families (these brainwashed people being taken by their loved ones to recover and live meaningful lives again, lives which did not involved maintaining your champagne and strawberry habit).

“If you ask us of course we'd never say no, it's just… would it be ok to have an hour a day to train? It's such an honour to protect this place, not looking to half arse it.”

“Of course! Come to my house with Johnny after supper and we can discuss some accommodations for your new roles.”

–

“How does that sound?” you asked, soft as silk.

You knew how it sounded, it sounded like you were the damn second coming. Giving them unrestricted food and sleep, telling them you'd have a house for them built right by your side? You knew it was working by how Johnny's eyes had went big and wet, projecting puppy-like adoration. And Simon? Oh that big, delicious man stood and walked over to you so he could kneel at your feet. Fuck you had never felt better about yourself.

“We don't deserve so much of your consideration. I-” he said, the first time you had heard him struggle to get words out through his emotion. “I want to thank you properly.”

He said it like it was a revelation and it peaked your interest. You could have squealed with delight when his cheek leant against your knee, your dress pushed by his face to let skin meet skin, eyes locked with yours as he turned to kiss your flesh. You hadn't fucked any of your followers, too messy. But these weren't regular followers anymore right? No, these were special followers. And it had been so long and he was looking at you like he was desperate to give you any pleasure he could.

Oh Simon was desperate all right, had been thinking about getting you sloppy and pathetic for him since Johnny had excitedly shown him that bloody video of you acting like an innocent little lamb. He wanted to just barrel in, bend you over and claim you right away. It was Johnny who insisted it would be more fun to trick you, who had whined like a bitch about it until he got his way. Bloody MacTavish. He really needed to train those puppy dog eyes right out of the boy. Those had got him to indulge in all sort of risks already. Nearly fucked the whole plan right up when you had come dangerously close to catching him balls deep in Johnny in your bed, absolutely ruining him as per his own puppy dog eyed request.

For his part Johnny was positively giddy. He might give away the game if he really got to watch Simon taste you. Would he play gently with you? Oh my God would he pretend he was inexperienced to make you feel superior? Let you think you were guiding him? That might kill him dead. He tried to not fucking salivate and start panting at the thought of it.

“Then thank me properly.”

Fuck the way his eyes lit up at that. This gorgeous man wanted you, he wanted to please you. As a hand squeezed your calf and he started to drag his mouth up your bare leg you felt the sick thrill of wondering how far they would go for you. Already people had given up families, friends, wealth. You had never pushed it beyond, horrified whenever you thought about how delicious it would be if they would die for you, kill for you and so shoving those dark thoughts to the back of your mind.

But you didn't want Simon to die for you. You did want to see how far you could push, how deep his devotion ran. To that end you wove fingers through his hair and pulled him off of your thigh, his eyes flickering from your wet panties sticking to your cunt up to your own eyes in question.

“I want you to kiss Johnny.”

You said it like a woman possessed. Fuck. That's exactly what you wanted. You wanted these big masculine men to fuck against their own desires but do it for you. They were dumb jocks really, probably had never fumbled around with another man before. They'd find it hard, find it wrong. You didn't really consider yourself a bad person before this moment, just a clever one. This was straying into something else, some monstrous part of you that was salivating with the thought of finally being released.

“Will you do that for me?”

You heard a choked sort of noise and looked over to see Johnny hiding his face in his hands. Of course, big Scottish man must be scared of doing such a thing. Or rather having such a thing done to him. You imagined it would be some attack to his sense of self to have a bigger man press a kiss onto him. Fuck maybe he would tear up. Maybe he would fully cry if Simon pushed inside of him. You hoped that God really was dead because if not you were sure They'd have some stern words for you after this.

“Oh I've never…”

Fuuuuuck. Simon's vulnerable eyes darting from Johnny to you were liable to make you cum on the fucking spot. You smiled indulgently down on him, running a hand over his face is a caress.

“You know I only ever do what's best for you don't you? I wouldn't ever ask you to do anything that isn't for the greater good. Do you believe in me Simon?” you said, the years of practice infusing your tone with a cloying sweetness.

“Yes” he replied, barely a breathy whisper of affirmation.

His glazed eyes looked at you with such adoration before he nuzzled his face into your hand and left a kiss there before making his way across to where Johnny was sitting on the sofa, face still hidden in his hands. He went over on his knees, crawled. You pressed your fingers against your throbbing clit, cupping yourself to try and tell your body to calm down because there was so much more to come.

Simon crawled between Johnny’s legs, going up on his knees and grabbing Johnny’s nape to drag his face down. He was whispering something in his ear, maybe trying to settle him, trying to assure him this was what they needed to do for you. Of course had you been aware Simon was hissing at Johnny to keep it together, to stop laughing about how easily you were falling for this, then the whole thing would really have been ruined. Luckily Johnny was still a soldier, Simon still his LT, so when he was ordered to put his game face on he did it. And luckily Johnny was still a good boy, Simon was still his master, so he knew that squeezing at his pup's nape always got that furrow in his brow to relax, got him eager to please and ready to tear up at the first little tease or overstimulation.

It was really destiny that you would be this level of power hungry, this eager to push and see what you could make people do. He had been training Johnny to put all his eager to please energy to good use for years, had turned a feral mutt into a feral mutt with impeccable training. The chance to turn a corrupt fox into a corrupt fox whose only desire was to be stroked and pampered was making him painfully hard. Johnny had been right, tricking you was far more delicious than just forcing you into it.

When he moved Johnny’s hands from his face it was to reveal a man looking ruined, looking liquid eyed and flushed. Simon mouthed a good boy to him before pressing a kiss to his lips. It was calculatedly shy and tentative and he kept a steadying hand on Johnny’s knee, squeezing when he felt he might lose control and start panting and licking his way into his mouth as he usually tried to do. Simon couldn’t very well punish him right now without giving the game away, so he just had to use the suggestion of a future punishment.

After the first peck you watched a slow and decadent slide into forbidden desire. They got a little bolder with each press of lips, seemed to squirm a bit more with the struggle of it feeling good but wrong. When Simon pulled away and Johnny whined despite himself you slid your hand past your waistband, needing to touch yourself or you’d die.

“You’d like it if Simon used his tongue wouldn’t you Johnny? Would be nice to feel it against yours. It’s important that you two are close isn’t it? To do your jobs well that is.”

Johnny would have agreed with full enthusiasm and pounced Simon to get them both on the floor so he could rut his hips down into the cock he was desperate for, but the hand at his bad knee squeezed again and the spark of pain reminded him of the mission. So instead he looked at you, teary and unsure.

“H-his tongue? I… I’m naw…”

“You’re not what Johnny?”

“It’s wrong.”

“Who told you that?”

You watched him play with the thin chain around his neck, the crucifix falling out of his shirt. Catholic. Oh this must be even more torturous for him. No matter, you had killed plenty of Gods already, you could kill his. Watch guilt eat and eat and eat at him until finally he gave in to the desire. Gave in to you. Let any other divine figure die in favour of a new God.

“Oh Johnny, do you think I would lead you into temptation? It’s ok, I would never make you. If you don’t like it that’s fine, you can both call it a night hm? Security is a tough job, I would never think less of you for not being up to the task. My fault really, I must have mistaken the potential I saw in you.”

He surged forward and shoved his tongue past Simon’s teeth and you moaned deeply, fingers so slippery that getting proper friction on your clit was a challenge now. You did not think you had ever been so wet in your life, feeling slick trickle out of you as they clumsily seemed to fight for dominance, saliva dripping down Johnny’s chin from how much he was trying to follow your instructions, how deep he was trying to pull Simon’s tongue with his into his mouth.

When they next pulled away they both seemed dazed, like they couldn't believe they had just done that. Poor Simon turned to look at your pleadingly, legs widening so you could see he was straining against his pants. He was rock solid from making out with Johnny and you were cumming all at once, hips rolling in time with your fingers as you breathed out instructions with your cunt still clenching in waves.

“Good, so good for me. Want you both to cum, get all of that tension out. Wouldn't ever leave you wanting would I?”

They both looked needy, but the fact that they quietly waited for instructions on how to cum was possibly the most erotic thing you had ever seen.

“It's OK, you can help each other. That's what it's all about here isn't it? Helping those in need in the community, and you're both in need. Jerk your cocks together, it'll be bonding for you to cum together like that.”

They fucking did it. Simon shoved his pants down enough to free the absolute monster of a cock he had and dragged Johnny only his lap on the floor. Johnny's cock was thick as anything and just as hard. Fuck the image of Johnny taking Simon’s cock, taking every hard inch of him in his ass. Crying about how it wouldn't fit, how it was wrong. Clutching his crucifix. You needed to make it happen soon. Maybe you could make Johnny wear a plug, say it was part of training. Get him ready to be fucked by his friend and once superior without him ever realising that's what you were doing.

Their precum was already making the slide of it easier as Simon took the lead, big hand wrapping around both of them and slowly pumping, staring at it in fascination. You were slowly overstimulating your clit, feeling that tension start growing again already.

“Spit on it Johnny.”

He did it without hesitation, his saliva making Simon’s jerking squelch. It didn't take long until Johnny was begging, needing to cum. You didn't even register that it wasn't you he was looking at as he begged, you were too lost in sensation, eyes locked on their cocks rubbing together.

“Go on, cum. Both of you.”

Simon sped his hand and his low grunt (the ‘s’ok pup, cum’ so low you hadn’t heard it over your pleasure) combined with Johnny's drooling and panting sent you spiralling over the edge again as they both shot ropes of sticky cum all over each other.

Fuck. What else could you make people do?

–

Over the next few weeks life got even easier for you. Simon and Johnny were excellent right hands, earning respect from all of your followers and taking on almost all of the tasks you had (which you had made sure were as minimal as possible already, the whole point of this endeavour was to live an easy life).

Simon was careful to make sure to be seen with you, start planting the seeds in people's minds that they were an extension of you. Johnny was rapidly losing patience which made him incredibly satisfying to fuck because he got to beat every single complaint out of him. It was him that wanted to go this route so he was going to finish what he started. It had been a long time since he had seen Johnny get so worked up over anything and he forgot how much he enjoyed him when he was like this, biting at every little bit of bait that Simon left with the express purpose of having an excuse to punish him later for it.

Johnny needed putting down when he got this wound up, at this point Simon had taken him over his knee at least once a day, collared and leashed him most nights, fucked him silly so much that he was constantly aching and plugged to keep ready for a quickie when he needed it. Which right now was inhumanly often and with them still in the bunkhouse they were having to get very creative with the venue. Johnny was going especially feral given that you had only been alone with them once more since you had promoted them and you had acted like last time had never happened. Clever actually, Simon had to hand it to you, you were very good at playing with people. He could see the little glimmer in your eye, the delight at seeing how Johnny seemed to be vibrating with anticipation of something that never came. You were setting him up to beg, making sure that when he gave in and went directly against his God that it would be him pleading for you to let him do so.

It wasn’t like you had ever been close enough to tell, but that little cross around Johnny’s neck had SR carved into the back of it. Simon had corrupted the Roman Catholic out of this pup years ago, the cross only came out on special occasions when Johnny wanted to play coy and innocent or when Simon wanted to remind him who he belonged to (because it certainly wasn’t a God, it was his fucking lieutenant). Well and now, when they both knew the sight of it would give you such a power trip that you’d fall right into their trap.

“I was thinking about your house” you said, the three of you standing where the foundations were already being put down.

“Aye?”

“It just seems such a waste when I have extra bedrooms in my home.”

“It would be such an honour to stay in any of them. Would we not be intruding?”

“Of course not Simon, you are my right hand men now. It makes sense for you to stay close to me. To one another.”

You swore you could see Johnny’s ears perk up, a phantom tail flicking quickly behind him in rapt attention at that. Of course their minds would go there, just like you wanted them to. It hadn’t been too difficult for you to be patient, to play with them so that you didn’t push too far too fast. It was something you were very good at.

“Would you… still let us build something here?”

“Oh?”

“I think a temple of sorts would be nice. Somewhere for you to relax. You work so hard for all of us and if you are taking us into your space I’d hate for you to have nowhere to go to meditate alone.”

It only took a few days to wear you down. You had no idea how much influence they already had with your followers, how easy it was for them to plant that idea there and have them be the ones appealing to you to please allow them to do this for you. And while that shred of morality you had left was screaming at you not to do this, not to actually Deify yourself lest it go too far, the adoration inflated your ego and drowned your conscience out.

So they started to build your temple.

–

“Ah! Like that. That’s it, that’s what I need” you moaned out, Simon in between your legs worshipping.

You had moved them into your home, the large house comfortable and spacious in comparison to the bunkhouse the other followers stayed in, and that night Simon had come to your room and gotten on his knees for you. How could you say no to him?

The adoration of your followers was nothing compared to this. They loved you yes, but fuck Simon was reverant, tongue swirling around your cunt so there was more holy water for him to glut himself on. This was decadent, languid on your bed with him focusing entirely on your pleasure, expecting nothing in return. This man who was spending his days by your side, overlooking the building of a temple in your honour. You could not decide in this moment if you wanted him to fuck you on the altar when it was done or if you wanted to fuck him.

It was a good conundrum to have because you felt that you could simply have both. You could have whatever the fuck you wanted with this man by your side. Who could stand against him and Johnny? And who would ever worship you more? You had never actually bought your own bullshit before, but if he kept this up maybe you were some sort of God because how else could you be living this deliciously?

You tugged his hair sharply to get him off of you and pushed at him until he was on his back. You would take what you wanted from him because it was your right to do so. He did not complain as you settled your cunt on his face and rode him, if anything his clever tongue worked harder to please you. You held his head and used him, and he drank you down and thanked you for the privilege after, vanishing out of your room as silently as he had arrived.

–

It only took another few weeks for Johnny to break and oh he broke so perfectly. Simon came to your room every night to pray, and Johnny must know, must have heard how Simon spilled thank yous against your cunt even as you pushed down to deprive him of oxygen, even as you smeared your slick all over his face, moving exactly as you liked with no consideration of him. You never touched him in any way meant for his pleasure, only to use him for yours.

It was not Simon who knocked lightly on the door. Simon didn’t knock at all, he always just let himself in.

“Come in Johnny.”

He was nervous, that much was clear. You did enjoy the sight of him in only his boxers and crucifix, moonlight doing wonders in making him look incredibly edible. You wanted to knead his pecs like they were tits, wanted to sink your teeth into the meat of his neck until you tasted blood and he cried out your name instead of his God’s.

“I want…”

“Hm? You want?”

“Will ye let me please ye? I ken Si… I’m naw good enough for ye, but I want tae be. It’s just, I’ve never uh… I’m a quick study.”

And with perfect timing, in walked Simon. Couldn’t have planned it better yourself (well, actually Johnny had planned it, Simon had laughed and ruffled his hair at how eager he had been to act the part of the blushing virgin before unhooking the leash and getting him out of his collar and into his crucifix).

“Good evening Simon” you purred.

The man didn’t really acknowledge that Johnny was in the room, instead going to his place by the foot of your bed and kneeling. It was always where you started, with him lapping at you until you ordered him onto the bed or the floor so you could take what you needed. Only you pushed him away with your foot when he tried to pull at your shorts, holding him at leg length and looking at Johnny.

“Come sit will you?”

He nervously shuffled over, sitting next to you on the bed with his eyes darting uncomfortably down to Simon kneeling pretty, your foot still holding him away from you. He swallowed and you thought it sweet how he held your gaze to avoid watching as you motioned for Simon to move and he did so without hesitation. Johnny still didn’t look at him even as you put a hand to his knee to make him spread his legs enough for Simon’s broad shoulders to fit between them.

“If you want to learn I’d never stop you Johnny, I want you to be the best at the things you’d like. And I’m sure Simon makes a wonderful teacher.”

Simon didn’t need prompting, obedient and perfect boy that he was. He started licking up Johnny’s thick thigh the same way he would have if you were sitting there. Johnny, bless him, gripped onto your leg like it was a lifeline, fingers digging into the plush flesh hard enough that you imagined it may leave marks. You swallowed his loud whine with your mouth when Simon slipped his boxers down and took his hard cock right to the root. It almost made you laugh, if you tried to take that in your throat you would certainly be gagging and crying.

When you pulled away Johnny was a whining mess, one hand fisted in the sheets and the other still dug into the fat of your thigh. You wondered if he had ever gotten head. Certainly not from another man. Oh wouldn’t his priest be so disappointed in him. You could imagine a severe man in the robes of God, looking with disgust at the whore before him. But you were a kinder creature, letting him indulge in pleasure without telling him he couldn’t.

Well, to a point. You pushed Simon to stop with the frankly immaculate looking blow job when it was clear from Johnny’s hips rutting that he was close. Then you swung your leg around, straddling Johnny and squeezing yourself to him, stopping him from trying to get friction from you.

“Not yet Johnny, you need to be patient hm? Simon, open him up. Tongue first, then fingers.”

Johnny was tearing up, looking at you like he didn’t understand why you were doing this while feeling horribly guilty that he liked it. He howled when Simon’s tongue started playing at his rim, his hands gripping at your hips to try and make you move against him. You put a hand to his throat and squeezed lightly.

“It’s ok, you can take it can’t you?”

“I-I cannae, please bonnie, I’m naw- I dinnae-” he whined before he choked on nothing, eyes blown wide, “h-his tongue is, fuck it’s inside.”

“I know Johnny, I know. Is it too much then? Should I tell him to stop? If you can’t take it, then at least you tried” you said, sweet as anything but putting a tiny edge of disappointment into your tone.

“I can take it! Please, I can! Dinnae make him stop, I can take whatever ye gie me!”

“Good boy.”

Oh, the reaction to those two words was worth exploring. It was like he changed from a man to some pathetic animal, eyes watery and begging, hands pawing at your hips while his own desperately tried to buck up. You felt how he froze, heard how he choked when Simon pressed a finger into him.

“Hmm that’s it, take what you’re given, you’ll be good and hold off for me hm?” you cooed, moving a hand to run fingers under his chain, all the way around until you were behind his neck and could yank, have that crucifix choking him. “Looks better like this Johnny, almost like a pretty collar for you.”

Jackpot. Even with you clamping down to give him as little room for friction as possible you felt the hot gush of his cum, him getting there from being choked, being compared to a dog to be collared. Well if he was going to be a mutt that came without your permission, the permission of his master, then he needed to learn his place no?

“Fuck pet, told you to be patient.”

“Sorry, m’sorry bonnie. Ah! M-make him stop, s’too much!”

“Make him stop? But he’s been good for me, followed everything I’ve asked, You went ahead and finished without permission. Wouldn’t make sense to punish him and reward you, I need to be fair pet.”

He was clearly overstimulated, his hips trying to rut even as he gasped at every bit of friction he got. Oh you wanted to see him fucked out and ruined. You wanted his heart on a fucking platter.

“More Simon. Johnny here is going to let you fuck him tonight, so you need to open him up properly.”

“I-I-” Johnny stuttered, bottom lip quivering and eyes wide and wet. If you weren't so high on the decadence of having these two men at your mercy you’d have questioned just how practised that was.

“Tell me Johnny. Tell me what it is you want.”

Tell me what it is I want to hear that you want. Be a good boy, don’t disappoint me. You’d hate to disappoint me after all I’ve done for you.

“I want Simon tae fuck me tonight.”

“Good boy” you said, hammering that final nail in God’s coffin as you yanked again at the chain so hard it snapped, taking your trophy and tossing it onto your desk without ever having examined it closely.

You watched Simon ruin him at your command. You drank their praise like champagne, bit into their gratitude like strawberries bursting their juice on your chin. You were greedy in how many times you used them for your pleasure, their fingers, their tongues, the sight of them overcome with hedonistic abandon.

You felt like a God.

–

The temple was beautiful, no effort or expense spared. The first floor was a space for everyone, for the brand new community gatherings that you occasionally led but had mostly been letting Simon and Johnny lead. Above that was two glorious floors of space only for you. The only other people permitted to set foot in here were your two right hands. It was something else, being in the luxuriant bed drinking champagne and watching the two of them play with each other for your benefit.

You could not stop thinking about the way Johnny had writhed at the mention of a collar when you had taken his crucifix for yourself (it still sat on the desk right where you had left it). You could not stop imagining how such a thing would look around his thick neck, how your other followers would look at it and be jealous that he got to be so visibly claimed by you.

As always your wish was their command. Simon had presented you with a gorgeous necklace of sorts, almost a choker, the pendant a symbol you didn’t recognise.

“This doesn’t look like a collar for you.”

“It’s for you. The symbol is from the cult of Venus, we thought… well we thought if you could wear it, show people, then when we wore it…”

“You want them to know you are wearing it for me.”

Perfect fucking boys weren’t they. They didn’t just want to show up in a collar, they wanted to show up in a symbol associated with you. It was pretty enough what they had chosen, delicate and clearly made with care and devotion. You turned and lifted your hair so he could put it on you and the very next community gathering was Johnny eagerly explaining the symbol to your followers. It was etched into the temple walls soon after.

–

The realisation happened all at once. You only attended community gatherings for special occasions now and when you did they were all looking at you like you were their God made flesh. Your followers had become something else, something well beyond a little eco-living commune. That had not been your doing.

The door was locked. You could not leave your space in the Temple. Your hand flew to the back of your necklace, realising with a startle that you couldn’t take it off. Simon and Johnny never did have collars made. Why would they? You were rapidly realising they had never intended to. You looked in the mirror, tried to find a clue. The pendant… it was only when you drew it over and over again that you figured it out. This wasn’t some symbol of an old Goddess, it was the letters S R J M twisted around to make a pretty symbol. You sat and stewed, waiting for them to get back. When they did you were sat on the bed, glowering at them.

“Aww ye figure us out bonnie?”

“You played me.”

“Like a fucking violin sweetheart” Simon cooed, walking over to flick the pendant.

You huffed up at him. Everything was completely fucked now. You had all but ordered your followers to treat these two as your spokesmen. You had been slowly vanishing from public life, ingraining in their minds that you were a God who lived in a temple and only graced them with your presence when they had really earned it. All this after years of breaking them down so they thought nothing they ever did was good enough, so of course they would never think they had earned it.

And you had never used violence for anything, you were soft and lived on champagne and strawberries for fuck sake, it wasn’t like you could brute force your way out of this. You were enough of a schemer to know when you had been outplayed.

“So the little shy virginal act?”

Johnny laughed and came over to nuzzle into your hair.

“Ye’d naw believe how many times Si has been in my arse hen, this isnae even the first house of God he’s bent me over in.”

You scowled and pushed his head away, but his eyes only sparkled with excitement as he bullied it right back into nuzzling you like a fucking dog.

“Pup has been so excited about you finally figuring it out. You’ve been teasing him for months now, don’t think it’s time to give him a treat for how well behaved he’s been for you?”

It’s not like you were against the idea, it had been delicious being the dominant one all this time but there was something interesting about the idea of letting Simon take control, letting him get Johnny to fuck you the way you had let him fuck Johnny. Because that would be the case you knew now. It was so obvious knowing what you knew, you really should have figured out way sooner that Simon had always been in control. All the things you had done since he got here that you had thought your ideas weren’t yours at all, he had put them in your head.

“So that’s it then? You keep me here and take over?”

Simon was looking at you with something deranged behind those eyes. It was dreadfully exciting.

“You're coming to tonight's community gathering. You can decide if puppy gets a treat after that.”

–

The Birth of God happened on that brilliant Friday evening. One moment you had been fighting against your conscience, and the next you had let go. You had walked forward, no floated, and pressed a holy kiss to his head. Watching one of your followers plunge a knife into the heart of another on your altar, both with a smile on their faces, was fucking beautiful.

The Revelation happened about the same time. You dipped your fingers in the blood (the same colour as those tomatoes he so loved, the tomatoes that his body would feed and your followers would eat) and marked his murderer with your symbol, the initials of the men that had made you God.

Puppy had more than earned his treat.

#mhairiwrites #cod #fanfic #ghoap x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #please read the cws #also please let me exist on champagne and strawberries because I am OVER IT #if I was not a depressed little mess and could actually write smut right now you would have gotten reader getting railed on a bloody altar #would have been great

348 notes · View notes

angelstate · 11 months ago

Text

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost x Virgin!Reader

+18 content warning

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who at the start of the relationship wasn’t sure how to act around you, not because he didn’t like physical contact or spending time with you, God, he wanted nothing more than to enter his way into every nook and cranny of your life and ruin you for everyone else that could come after him (he would never allow another man to enter your life) but he didn’t want to irrupt your life that way from the start, he was a patient man after all, he would make you crave his presence.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who is “caught off guard” when you start to ask him to stay over, claiming you didn’t want to be alone and that you missed him too much at night to let him leave, besides is late and too dangerous for him to go back home (he is type of dangerous man your parents warn you about when walking alone on the streets) and he as the oh-so-amazing-boyfriend he is obliged to your request, not wanting his pretty girl to get sad.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who really tries to make you happy despite loving when you get sad and cry like a kicked puppy, it’s truly a sight for sore eyes, at least ones as empty and sinister as his. And yeah, maybe he gives you the silent treatment just to watch you follow him around and beg for attention he would gladly give you if you didn’t look as good as you do when desperate and whiny for him.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who lures you into falling right into trap after trap to get what he wants from you, a dirty pantie in the laundry basket? Why don’t you go fetch him the rest of the dirty clothes from the bedroom while he loads the washer for you? putting the dirty pair of underwear in his front pocket when you leave the laundry room.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who knows he is going to lose the shame sooner or later, but now it’s too early to do so, he doesn’t want you to think he is creepy (he is beyond creepy, mentally fucked up in every sense) he loves you after all, and he wants to know your smell, your taste and much more, what a better start than a dirty pair of panties to begin knowing you more in detail.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who sometimes does feel guilty, not for what he does, sees nothing wrong with stealing dirty underwear and pressing it to his nose while jerking off (sometimes licking them), that’s a way of loving you when you aren’t around. He feels guilty at times because you don’t know this “lovely” part of him, you should know every corner of his mind the same way he does yours. and maybe it's easier for him because you're so fucking dumb in the best way possible, giving him unlimited access to every detail about you if he just asks while kissing your neck or calling you an equally as dumb nickname.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who wants nothing more in this world than to corrupt you till there’s no space in your brain not plagued by memories of him, fucking you, loving you, making you cry, everything. He wants you to see him as the definition of love and pain and be addicted to his sadistic nature.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who knows really fucking well how sick in the head he is for wanting to ruin such a pretty little thing like you, but in his mind, he is practically making you a favor, he shows you just how ugly the world can get it at times, protects you from it even, and in return you love him unconditionally, keeping your head empty, letting him take full control of you so you don’t have to worry about anything.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who knows you sometimes doubts the legitimacy of his “good intentions” but is quick to shut down every question you have with manipulative words that sound pretty and full of love. He doesn’t mean to be so manipulative though, he really wants you to see his true intentions but if anything that could make you less docile to him, try to find a way out of the apartment now the two of you call home. It truly is for the best if you don’t know what occurs in his sick mind, at least for him it was the best.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who despite being a manipulative piece of shit does indeed love you and goes out of his way to make room for you in his life the best he can. He actually started using his PTO days to spend more time with you, he had prioritized his job and would never take days off if it wasn’t strictly necessary, but with you now being part of his life (therefore part of him) he knew he had to make good used of the vacation days he had available to love you and coddle you.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who has a high salary because of his rank and years serving as an SAS soldier, he is well off, to say the least, and has never been one to spend money on anything, except on you that is. Because he wants to spoil you the best he can, he knows your background and that you didn’t exactly come from money, just another middle-class suburban family who lived comfortably but not well off. but the way he goes about spoiling you is so fucking creepy, buys you clothes he knows are way too revealing for you to feel comfortable wearing outside, and spends way too much money on sex toys he knows he’ll have to basically coerce you into trying them.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who is extremely kinky and loves to be the one in power (in and out of the bedroom) he knows you were never given the sex talk though, barely gave your first kiss in 8th grade before your parents found out and put you in an all-girls school so you didn’t get distracted from studying, so to say the least, you were a virgin when entering the relationship. Ghost like the fucking creep he is loves that about you.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who loves the fact you’re a virgin so much he cannot help but tease you about it, physically and mentally with lingering touches and teasing comments to rile you up only to deny you right after. “Taking your virginity would be like cutting an angel's wing, can’t do that to ya’ lovie” he so fucking cockily says, arms crossed over his chest and his voice gruff, looking down at you, and you know he’s smirking under his mask.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who wants you to beg for his cock, wants to have you on your knees, begging for him to take your virginity, he’s the only man in your life after all, the one you plan to marry and devote your soul and life to (you better devote your life to him) He is playing the long game, both torturous and pleasuring because when the time is right, he is going to fuck you till you can’t remember nothing but his name and can’t walk away from him.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who waited a lot of fucking time (like a lot) to finally get you where he wanted, it does come by surprise though. he is used to you sitting on his lap, tugging his belt, and asking him to try to go further. he always rejected you though. wanting you utterly desperate. what he hadn’t taken into account is what you did in the meantime, every time he shut you down. sooner he discovered what you did. The image of you, straddling a stuffed animal he bought you at the beginning of your relationship pressed against your cunt as you humped it like a bitch in heat, soft mewls, and moans leaving your lips, and ghost didn’t want to interrupt you, having too much fun looking at you cry from overstimulation as you struggled to make yourself come. but then you moaned out his name, his real name and the urge to fuck you senseless became too much to ignore this time.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who opens the bedroom door fully but doesn’t enter, only calling out to you to see the face of panic you would get at being caught “What are ya doin’ lovie?” he saw the way your hips stopped moving, your face full of embarrassment and your doe eyes teary, from shame or overstimulation? he didn’t care, you look pretty either way. he hears you struggle to answer him, too fucking dumb to even think of an excuse to give him.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who doesn’t care to wait for an answer after you don't speak for almost a minute, choosing to take matters into his own hands and do what he had been wanting to do since the beginning.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who doesn’t care enough to warn you before he is grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you towards the end of the bed, flipping you on your back and hovering over you with a dark look in his eyes that send shivers down your spine, he looked fucking possessed (can’t you blame him though?) as he looks down at your panties, the fabric soaked and covered in your slick, the sight makes him want to groan out loud.

he had never expected you to be so filthy in the cutest of ways, I mean really, humping a stuffed animal he gave you, could you really be more desperate than that? he wishes he had caught you sooner, but he guessed you only really touched yourself when he wasn’t home or at least busy enough to not come into the bedroom, either way, he couldn’t care less right now, not when he had you under him all flustered and shy yet clearly frustrated from not having come yet.

“you should’ve come to me dovie” he says, pressing his hands on your clothed cunt, spreading your slick on your thighs before his fingers began softly rubbing your clit, his lips finding their way into your neck and leaving wet kisses all over the exposed skin. ”could’ve made you feel so good if you had just asked nicely", he mutters against your skin, a small sob coming from you making him break into a smile, lifting his head and looking at your flushed face, tears running down your face as you whimpered.

you sniffled, thighs twitching as his fingers don’t stop rubbing circles over your overstimulated clit. “didn’t wanna bother you Si..” he hears you mumble, a content sigh leaving his lips at your words before he leaning down and kissing you on the lips, not caring to reassure you he wouldn’t have been bothered if you came to him horny and looking for release. you had to look for it alone, so fucking dumb you were.

“gotta punish you now, sweetness…went behind my back and touched what's mine” he says against your lips, his free hand moving to grab a fistful of your hair and pulling it slightly, a whine leaving your lips at the sudden touch. “dumb little bitch you were, huh” he added not even three seconds later, his comment making your heart clench, you didn’t want to disappoint him, never. couldn’t bear the thought of doing something he didn’t approve of when he basically controlled your entire life by now. Before you knew it, Ghost was pounding into you with a brutal pace, the tip of his hard cock reaching your cervix and hitting it continuously, dragging moans of pleasure mixed with pain, struggling to take all of him while he forced his way in.

your legs were on his shoulder while pinned you down with his weight, leaving no opportunity for you to move away from him, forced to take everything he gave you “Filthy girl, so needy and not even able to take all my cock” he said, grabbing once again a fistful of your hair and pulling on it more roughly, forcing your head off the bed while he littered your neck with bite marks and bruises, “ can’t expect much from a dumb bitch like you” he continued to insult you while he bullied his cock into your pussy, loud moans leaving your lips, so cock-drunk you couldn’t even formulate a response.

his thrust became harder and harder, a frantic pace that began creating a tighter and tighter feeling on your lower stomach, you dug your nails into his back, scratching him when suddenly the knot on your stomach snapped, your orgasm ripping through your body, making your hips twitch to try and get away from Ghost as he continued to fuck into you overstimulating you. “I can’t.. s’too much! too much!” you said between moans, sobs following soon after while another knot began forming rapidly.

Ghost could feel you clench around him, your slick from your orgasm wetting his cock and thighs even more, making it easy to thrust into you while your walls sucked him in with a vice grip. he felt himself get closer to coming, one of his hands moving to your neck, choking you while the other moved to your clit, drawing tight circles that force a last orgasm out of you. “gonna fill you up, dovie, ruin your pussy for every bastard you meet after me” Ghost groans, quickening his pace, his balls slapping against your ass before he finally gives one last powerful thrust, burying himself deep inside you and filling you with his load, groaning on the crook of your neck while he feels your pussy spam around him, milking him dry.

Ghost sits up on the bed, your legs falling from his shoulders onto the bed, your body entirely spent as he watches your hips twitch, tears stains on your cheeks while your eyes are half closed, tired and overstimulated “Did so good for me, lovie..such a pretty girl you are” Ghost mutters, pulling out and watching as his cum spills out of your cunt onto the bed sheets, a wicked smile on his lips as he looks down at his dick, dry blood on part of his skin.

CreepyBoyfriend!Ghost who took your fucking virginity after begging him for almost a year of dating and absolutely broke you apart because of how hard he fucked you. (Maybe next time he'll have you gagging on his cock)

#cod x reader #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #simon ghost riley #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare #ghost cod #ghost x reader #boyfriend!ghost #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #fanfic #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x female reader #ghost riley

164 notes · View notes

gaysindistress · 5 months ago

Text

Cigars, Crossbows, and the Helion’s heart

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

Credits to @trashpostingforthesoulisold for the amazing fanart that inspired this all

pairings: Karlach x f!reader

Summary: based on this little blurb

Warnings: cussing, mild violence, cannon level talk of blood, death, and gore, character death

Word count: 2k

A/n: a whopping total of one person asked for a full fic and who am I to deny them? so here it is my love @dungeonsdragonsandlawyers 💕

Baldur’s Gate; a city of mischief and mayhem. A city where the law is just as corrupt as the criminals who run the streets. A city where there is no difference between good and evil because it all blends together. A city where the poor pray to a ghost, a myth, a legend, an old forgotten god some might say, to help them survive this rotting devils’ hole. A city where there is only one that can save it. Every lawman worth their salt has come to track down the Helion of the Gate but with nothing to show for it save for a few broken bones and shattered dignities. The current leader, the high and mighty lord Enver Gortash, has offered thousands in reward for the capture of the Helion. His ever increasing desperation to find this ghost has made him sloppy and a bit stupid if I’m honest. He paces back and forth in the small waiting area of my work apartment, nearly burning holes in the expensive rugs under his feet. For the better half of an hour, he’s been doing this, mumbling to himself, and completely ignoring me as if I’m a statue rather than a person. Every time I try to speak up, he shots me a deadly look and continues on with his nervous behaviors. I glance over at the clock and let out a deep sigh through my nose before pushing off of the small chaise lounge I'd been sitting on. Walking over to the little bar cart, I pour myself yet another bitter tasting drink and swallow it in one gulp. As I go to pour another, the pacing feet come to a halt and I feel his heavy eyes on my back. Enver finally speaks, “She’s visited you, hasn’t she? She’s been here, hasn’t she?” I take a moment to brace myself and take a deep breath before turning to face him. There is a wild look in his eye, too similar to that of a wolf backed into a corner for my comfort. “How would that even be possible, Enver? You have me guarded better than you do yourself I imagine. There is no earthly way that she or anyone else for that matter could get in without your knowledge.” My words don’t have the easing effect that I had hoped they would and that look has intensified to a truly terrifying level. He narrows his eyes at me before taking a deep breath of his own and looking over my shoulder through a window that overlooks the city. “When was the last time you saw her?” “That night.” “The night she tried to kill me?” While he is not looking directly at me, I know that he sees me nod my head. It’s almost more terrifying that he’s not looking at me, that he’s refusing to humanize me as he questions and accuses me. There have been few times where I have faced his wrath but now is most certainly not a time I wish to experience it. Enver is not a violent man but he is a calculated and cunning man who has no fear of consequences. He’s willing to lie, manipulate, and assassinate whoever he needs to to get what he wants. I may be in his favor for the moment but I am not so disillusioned to believe that I will stay there for long. At any moment he can decide that I am more trouble than I am worth and have me killed or do it himself. “What did she say to you that night?” “N..nothing.” My hesitation is my downfall.

“Why have you come?” I whisper while my cheek rests on her warm stomach, staring up at her. Cigar smoke floats around us, creating a veil between us and the world that wishes for her death. The smell of sweat and sex fills the pockets of space where the cigar smoke does not. Smoke spills out of her mouth as she speaks, “I wanted to see my sweet one.” She takes another drag off her cigar as she tucks her free hand behind her head and gazes down at me. “That not a good enough reason?” I chuckle at her before pressing a chaste kiss just below her belly button and move so I can see her better. I take her cigar with one hand and with the other I trail my hands up and down her side. I feel her tail flick behind us and come to rest on the small of my back. “It’s a perfectly fine reason but I fear that you are lying to me,” I tell her while I pass the cigar back. “Lying to you? Now why would you think such a thing?” “He’s growing more scared and more desperate, K. He’s growing more reckless and it’s only a matter of time before he loses it altogether. What happens then, hm? What happens when he gets to you? What happens when he hurts you or worse kills you?” Her small smirk fades into a sad smile when my words sink in. She drops her cigar into an ashtray on my side table so she can hold my face. My eyes flutter closed as her warmth engulfs my cheeks and spreads through my body. “Nothing will happen to me I promise, sweet one. Nothing will happen to you either and I will do everything in my power to make sure you stay safe.”

Everything happened so quickly. Enver had sent word that I needed to pack a bag and be ready to leave as soon as he arrived. Karlach had told me that I needed to stay in my apartment until she came and got me. My heart had told me who to listen to and my body scrambled to follow its demands as I packed as little as I could and prepared myself for the bloodbath that was about to happen on my doorstep. The familiar sound of hooves on the cobblestone alerts me that my time has run short and I duck behind that stupid chaise lounge with a crossbow in hand. Heavy footsteps pound up the staircase and there’s a brief pause before the door is kicked in. “Where are you, y/n? Come out and face me,” Enver’s humiliated and angry voice calls out. He takes a few steps towards my room and I try to shuffle around the other side of the chaise lounge but I make too much noise. He finds me within moments and looms over me as his chest heaves and blood pours from a nasty gash on his forehead. “You lied to me. You led her straight to me. You played a part in all of this,” he seethes. That hungry and desperate look has returned tenfold and now there is nothing but blood on his mind. There is no point to reason with a feral and wounded animal so I don’t even attempt. All I can do is find a way to get to my feet and get out of this apartment before he can get to me. He starts to lean down to grab my ankle but I let off a warning arrow that skims past his arm and take his moment of surprise to get up. “You little…” he growls while stalking towards me. I refuse to turn my back on him and try to feel my way towards the door. Tears have begun to prick at the corners of my eyes and that causes him to laugh sadistically. “That’s sweet; you’re crying for a dead woman to come save you and think that your little crossbow could protect you. Tell me, y/n, are your tears making it hard to see? Are you seeing double?” His taunting words strike a chord of anger within me, “I’ve got two more arrows; one for each of you I see. If I don’t hit you the first time, then I certainly will the second time, wanna take those odds, Enver?” He takes one step forward and crumbles to the ground when an arrow becomes embedded in his knee. Letting out a wail of pain, he curses at me and tries to stand but his words are cut short by an arrow in his chest.

I find Karlach fading in and out of consciousness and bleeding out on the floor in her room at the Elfsong. Upon opening the door I freeze seeing her there with one hand on the door handle and the other on the door itself, while my brain swirls before I’m able to come to my senses and close the door. All the while Karlach is slouched against her bed, taking shallow ragged breaths as the blood runs down her face and hand from the cut on her abdomen. “Hey there, sweet one,” Karlach attempts to grit out but the pain in her side is too much and forces her words to be inaudible. I rush to grab a towel and warm water from the vanity before dropping to my knees beside her. I refuse to say a word as I begin to gently wash away the blood and patch her up. I’m too afraid to speak, scared that I will burst and completely lose my compuse. Karlach is usually the talkative one between us but now she is utterly silent as she closes her eyes and tries to remain still as I work. Her closed eyes don’t allow her to see the tears welling up in my eyes or the way my breath catches when I see her wince or the way I’m taking great care to not hurt her anymore. Karlach is broken from her trance of false peace when I move away to grab her pack and begin to rummage around for the needle and thread that she keeps in it. I murmur an apology and request for her to stay silent as I begin to stitch her bigger wounds up. She hisses and groans but otherwise does as I ask. When I’m finished, I move to clean the blood from her hands. She watches me as I dip the cloth into the water and bring it back to her knuckle, gently washing away the evidence of her near death and keeping her hand tightly in mine. I press light kisses to each knuckle when I’m done and place it on top of my wrist while I start to clean the other. The silent plea to stay doesn’t go unheard and she lightly squeezes my wrist to let me know that she will. Once I’ve finished cleaning both hands I take them in mine and bring them up to my lupus as warm tears fall down my face. Karlach cups my face and draws me closer to her so that we may rest our foreheads on each other. “Thank you,” she whispers and kisses away the tears that have fallen down my face, “thank you, sweet one.” “He’s dead,” I whisper back. “You do it?” “Yeah but I don’t want to talk about it. I want to rest with you.” Karlach barely nods in agreement and lets me gently help her up, pulling her towards me and circling my arm around her waist. We walk slowly to the bed where I help her sit down and get out of her filthy clothes. She attempts to swing herself into bed but Is quickly stopped by me climbing behind her and gently brushing out the knots and tangles in her hair. My beautiful soldier leans back into my touch and allows herself to feel safe as I work to make her feel as comfortable as she can. She nearly whines when I stop and my body moves but it's not long before I’m helping her to lay down on my chest. She lays on top of my heart as her body curls around me and her tail wraps around my thigh. Her breathing starts to level and her small noises of pain begin to fade. My hands drift to hold her shoulder and play with her hair as she finds peace and relaxation in my arms. “Tell me in the morning what happened?” she murmurs in her sleepy slurred voice. “Of course, in the morning my love.” I murmur back as we wrap ourselves up in each other, creating a bond that only death would be able to break.

#karlach fanfic #karlach x reader #karlach x tav #karlach bg3 #karlach #bg3 fanart #bg3 tav #bg3 #bg3 imagine #bg3 fanfiction

69 notes · View notes

risuola · 1 year ago

Text

BREATHE THROUGH YOUR NOSE — F. READER x KAMO CHOSO, who’s your not-so-ordinary roommate

Blood is Choso’s thing, so it’s no surprise that he’s absolutely turned on when you show up in your shared room covered in it. Quickly, he abandoned watching tv and focused all of his attention on you. To help you, of course.

cw: smut, temperature play, breath play, choking, blood kink, body worship, littlest bit of aftercare, Choso is mean, but also he's the sweetest bean (couldn't decide), reader discretion is advised — 2,4k words

masterlist

“Breathe through your nose.” Choso’s deep, labored tone barely got acknowledged by your brain and something akin to hmph! made an attempt to leave your throat. You really couldn’t remember exactly how the hell you ended up there, on the leathery couch in your shared room, on your knees and elbows, with hands clenching the slippery fabric just to steady yourself a little bit.

Kamo was right beside you, ruthlessly pounding into you with all of the force his muscled body contained, bullying his cock deep into your soaked and dripping insides. For a good while now, he kept his large hand roughly pressed over your mouth, limiting your airflow enough to have you struggle. Breathe through your nose, he advised you with a wicked smirk twisting his lip line but that was easier said than done. It wasn’t him who was nearly choking on his own tears and moans.

Your senses were hazed and eyes tightly shut, you couldn’t properly focus on the oxygen when he was just so harsh with the way his hips were thrusting into you, his pelvis clashing with your ass time after time, pushing you over the edge of insanity with so much ease it was just horrifying. If there was anything that you would never suspect Choso to do, that was it. You knew the death painting long enough to have a pretty solid opinion on him – he was calm, stoic even. Sometimes silly and very caring, but overall, he wasn’t giving off the vibe of I can and I will fuck you dumb kind of man. Damn, you didn’t even suspect him of really having any sexual drive to begin with, although that would be your mistake. He was, after all, half-human, but now, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that it was actually his curse side that made him so insatiable. So ruthless and dominant.

You gasped for air desperately when for a short second he loosened up the bruising grip he had on your face, only to take away your freedom of breathing once more. It was taunting, he basked in the way you tried to fill in your lungs and with almost psychotic satisfaction he took that away from you again. The mind-numbing, eye-watering pistons of his dick didn’t stop for a single moment as he persistently was making his way under your skin and into your soul. All you could see was blur of dark, night shades and red, so much red. Your red.

You got to your shared room late, after the unfortunate encounter with one very virulent curse that although easily exorcised, still left you with dozens of little slits and slashes across your body. Those little, bleeding creases in your skin were the reason for Choso immediately stopping whatever he was just doing and jumping to you, wanting to help, but instead of it, he for sure made the blood loss worse. He couldn’t help himself. You, covered in fresh crimson did something to him, and just like he was perfectly able to control and manipulate blood in and out of his body, now he couldn’t stop it from flowing down, straight to his cock. He wanted, no, he needed to touch you, to taste you, to just possess you, even if for a moment and when for god knows what reason you allowed him to do whatever he liked, he just lost it.

There was not an inch of your body that he wouldn’t caress. Your red covered his hands, his mouth and clothes, even those that at this point were already on the floor. There was a sting to your wounds, every time his tongue swiped over one of them your spine was electrocuted with an impulse of painful pleasure. Those impulses flooded your brain and then filled every cell inside your body with pure ecstasy.

Choso was experimental with you, he was observing and learning, soaking in your body’s reactions to whatever he was doing. He registered every shiver of you, every louder moan of satisfaction and every whimper of discomfort. Not a single jolt went unnoticed and some of your reactions he found absolutely addicting. Like the little squirm you were doing, the unconscious line of protection your skin had whenever he would run his cold as ice fingers along your spine. His internal temperature control really got in handy in making you lost in the sensation of him.

“Cho-so~ah,“ you whined quietly as he swiftly flipped you onto your back. Once back between your trembling thighs, he was immediately pushing his way back between your velvety walls, grazing over every sweet spot in you as he slipped in. There was a ring of creamy white at the base of his girth already formed, the testimony of how fucking good he was in just brainwashing you into nothing but mess. You came already, although you couldn’t tell how many times, and he also came at least once – an evidence of that gushing out of your hole every time he drilled into it.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He groaned lowly, leaning over you and wrapping his lips around one of the most bleeding slash you had – the one right above your collar bone. He sucked on in, savoring the sweet metallic that melted in his mouth, and it made you feel almost light-headed. He really made you feel like you’re floating and if not for the constant, harsh thrusting that grounded you, the heavy weight of his cock pumping your already oversensitive pussy in a pace that you could have sworn felt inhumane – yeah, if not for that, you might have actually lift above the bloody mess you did on the hotel couch.

“S-so good,” you mumbled absentmindedly and gasped loud as his ice cold, wet tongue flicked over your hardened nipple. It felt like he just put an ice cube over the bud and he played with it, twirling and twisting it all over your skin, making you shiver harshly underneath him, and even more wet although that you thought wasn’t possible. The slick sounds were filling the otherwise silent room, you could feel the pouring juices covering your thighs as he was dragging his hips back and forward, back and forward, fucking your way into oblivion.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” Choso chuckled, something evil and menacing lingering underneath his labored tone. That little thing got your pussy squelching around him, your legs quivering as you felt your climax approaching – a second one, and he groaned deliciously, feeling the pressure of your walls trying to milk him. “Just a little bit more,” he almost ordered, his voice now bearing hints of desperation as he picked up the tempo.

Despite how fast he was moving, despite the force he was putting into those slams, they were all precisely hitting the right spots. Choso absorbed the pleasure that was overflowing your body, he was drinking it, basking in it. Teasing you endlessly with how cold he can make his body or how hot he can be a second later. It was a sensory hell for you, and heaven at the same time. You felt like burning – any time he’d make himself warmer, he left searing traces along your shapes and then, right after that he contrasted it with the ice cold, wet kisses and long licks, making you crumble below him.

“I can’t–,“ you tried. Everything inside you screamed to cum yet again, you couldn’t think at all at this point. It was just stars and white haze in front of your eyes, the room blended into one big splotch of nothing and only thing that mattered was the death painting inside you.

“I’m sure you can,” Kamo chuckled, allowing his long, slender fingers to wrap around your throat. With the firm, bruising squeeze he took the breathing privilege away from you and immediately, your hands landed on his veiny forearm, trying to force him to ease the hold, but he just smirked at your efforts. You looked so pretty below him, so gorgeous with your shaking legs around his hips, squeezing him from time to time, with your chest heaving and aching for air, your face stained with tears and your tits bouncing every time his hips slammed into yours. Not to mention all of the blood smeared over your delicate body. You were taking him so well, even though at first you swore he’s not gonna fit you, that he’s too big and you physically can’t take it. Now your pussy was sucking him in more and more, absolutely weeping around him, swallowing him to the very bottom. “I saw you in battle,” he applied even more pressure over your throat. “I know you can take much more than that.”

Something incoherent left your squeezed airways, a sound bearing no particular meaning and you could feel another load of hot tears threatening to roll down your cheeks, already gathering along your lash line. Your nails left red, long marks over Choso’s forearms, matching the ones that you already gave his back and shoulders before. Sharp jolts of seething pleasure were shooting through your center and spreading ecstatic hellfire over your entire body. Despite the cold touch of his fingers, you were burning alive, you could feel the flames overtaking your veins as euphoria was rushing through them.

Kamo’s grip was unforgiving, he was thriving in the way your entire form was tensing underneath his touch, he could almost hear it screaming for a break. The heavy sound of your heartbeat seemed like music to his ears, he couldn’t stop himself, not when your pussy took him with so much insatiable hunger.

He took his hand off your neck and once again, you gasped for air, filling your lungs desperately and as if the relief of being able to breathe reached down to your cunt, you could feel yourself being close again. The trembling of your thighs became more apparent and Choso groaned deeply, the sound half-airy, as he felt his dick being squeezed by your velvety walls and he had no intentions to stop it. If you wanted to milk him again, who he was to say no to it?

Putting all of his gathered knowledge to use, he reached down, pressing his thumb over your swollen clit, rubbing circles onto it and almost immediately, making you lose it. That climax somehow felt even more intense than every previous one; it overtook you in light speed, sending your mind into another dimension and if not for the absolute malfunction of your brain functions, you’d probably be worried if you’ll be able to come back from there.

“Look at me,” Choso growled and you had no idea when he leaned down onto you, trapping you between his strong arms with his face just a breath away from yours when you looked hazily into his dilated eyes. Your fingers found their way into his hair, brushing through his dark, long locks. “So beautiful,” he muttered, stealing kiss after kiss from your ajar lips.

Your back arched when he came, you could feel his dick flexing and throbbing inside of you as he was emptying his balls, spraying your velvety, oversensitive walls with his hot load, and he had a lot to give. He wasn’t even done and already he was spilling, his cum dropping down onto the couch, where a mixture of filth created a stain. There was so much mess all around you two, blood, sweat and tears, your juices and so much white Choso shot out.

He groaned into your lips, his pelvis moving slower, languidly fucking you through your highs. His mouth shifted to taste the salty residues from underneath your eyes when he finally stilled. The wet sounds that were bouncing off the walls for a while already now quieted down, making space for the melody of heavy breathes and soft, satisfied yet exhausted groans and whimpers.

“Let me get us cleaned up,” Choso murmured into your ear once his heartbeat steadied – much quicker than yours, and you gave him a nod of approval.

With a delicacy so different to how harshly he was treating you for the last, what felt like, hours, the death painting swooped you off the nasty leathery seats and carried into the bathroom. With a supporting grip over your waist, he slowly washed away all of the filth from your body and from his own as well, and you helped him as much as you could, despite your arms screaming from exhaustion. Touching him was addictive, you couldn’t pinpoint why were you so attracted to him so suddenly.

“You are so gorgeous,” he praised you softly, drying your skin gently with a towel. You felt much better without the sticky layer of dried blood and sweat covering you, all of your wounds already started to heal. When he was down, supporting himself on one of his knees and patting away the droplets of water from your thighs, you could finally take in his form. Strong, toned muscles stretching underneath the light layer of skin created a god-like statue. Choso’s figure was really to die for, with broad expanse of his shoulders and thin waist, very prominent abs and leading down to delicious thighs. All of him was impressive, it really was hard to believe he was half-curse, counting 150 years of age.

“You are gorgeous too,” you told him but he kept his gaze down suddenly shy to hear compliments and he brushed it off, with a soft shrug. It really seemed amusing now, that just few moments back he was ruthlessly pounding into you and now, he couldn’t even look you in the eyes when you praised him.

“Let’s get you to bed,” he spoke, putting away the towel and swooping you once again into his arms. In a matter of few minutes, all the lights in the house were off and you were under the sheets in your bed, your head resting over the firm surface of Choso’s chest as his heartbeat was lulling you to sleep.

Before, you thought that day sucked – the little curse caused you more troubles than it should and even if you exorcised it, it still managed to put some cuts onto you. You got back home pissed, annoyed mostly by the way you created an opening for it to even land an attack on you. You were a high grade sorcerer for years now and yet, sometimes things like this surprised you, but in perspective… nothing surprised you more that day, than Choso did. If the sky suddenly turned green and the grass became purple, it would stun you less than what the death painting hid underneath his usually calm demeanor and after that, you were curious what else he had in his store.

You will check that later. You absolutely will.

337 notes · View notes

kentosovertime · 8 months ago

Text

𝕖𝕔𝕔𝕖𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕤𝕕𝕚𝕒𝕤𝕥; (n.) someone who only pretends to smile

𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤… when geto and gojo grow apart, resulting in their break up, gojo finds friendship and belonging with you and when geto returns he decides he wants you for himself 𝕚𝕟𝕗𝕠… 5.1k wc, final chapter!, college!au series, satosugu, geto x gojo x afab!reader, explicit content and language, includes themes of manipulation, jealousy, angst, spiteful behavior, etc. toxic friendships, emotionally constipated men, exhibitionism, voyeurism, degradation, praise, MMF threesome, unprotected sex, anal, multiple orgasms, teasing 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣… reblogs and likes are appreciated

𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 | 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤�� | 𝕥𝕒𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥 | 𝕒𝕤𝕜 𝕓𝕠𝕩

Geto bounces his leg impatiently, waiting for Shoko to show up as he grips his coffee mug with white knuckles, his mind racing with plans, possibilities, a way to dig all of you out of this mess. But he doesn’t know if he has the strength or bravery to move forward with it.

Satoru’s willingness to engage in the games Geto was playing wasn’t anticipated, he thought Satoru would put up walls and withdraw like normal.

He ends up staring into the middle distance, playing over every detail of the conversation you had with him that night.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

By the time he carried you to his bed and let you curl into his side, you were crying again. Your hiccups sound in the closed space.

“What’s bothering you, sweetheart?” He hummed low, gently rubbing your back in slow motions to help you calm your breathing.

“Everything.” You croak, hiding your face in his chest in shame. You let Satoru touch you like that and somehow Suguru wasn’t yelling at you and kicking you on the curb. The shame flashes hotter, remembering how needy you were from just Satoru’s fingers.

“You gotta give me more than that.” He says with a small chuckle, attempting to lift the mood but it only makes you cry harder, your face twisting in frustrations. “Baby girl, you can talk to me. I promise I’m not going to be mad at you. Let it out.”

“I’m pissed at both of you.” His eyes widen when he realizes that he’s somehow lumped into this and it isn’t just Satoru’s treatment of you. He feels you shudder as the words start pouring from your mouth. “I’m so god damn upset that he only realized that he wanted me after he couldn’t have me. I l-love him so much and I was f-fine to just be his friend, but I f-feel taken for granted. I decided a long time ago I wasn’t going to be one of his fangirls and it turns out I’m just something for him to be selfish over.”

“Sweetheart… He’s not-” He starts and is cut off abruptly.

“Don’t sweetheart me.” You snap suddenly, pulling away from him as you angrily wipe the wetness from your cheek. “Don’t defend him to me. And don’t think he’s the only one I’m upset with. What are you waiting for?”

“W-waiting for…?” He trails off in confusion, his heart lurching with the idea that he may have been pushing you away when he desperately wants to keep you around. The dread in his stomach magnifies when he sees your face drop just the tiniest bit, your eyes starting to mist over again.

“What is this to you?” Your voice cracks as you point between the two of you. “A-am I just something to d-distract you to get over him? Am I enough to fuck but not to ask out?”

“W-what?” His eyes widen and he sits up suddenly, pulling you into his lap where he can better cup your cheeks with both hands. He tries to stay calm, willing the fear that he was repeating his mistakes with Satoru with you. “(Y/N), baby, you are incredibly important to me. I haven’t said anything b-because I thought it was obvious and I didn’t want to overwhelm you… you’ve been so on edge with Satoru.”

“And what about you and him?” You lean into his touch, seeing the genuine panic in his eyes, his focus entirely on you and your needs. How could Satoru make you think that Suguru didn’t care for you?

“The two of us are… complicated.” He swallows around a lump in his throat, unable to avoid the elephant in the room anymore. He’s been so afraid that talking to you about this would only highlight all the things wrong with him and drive you away, but now the lack of communication was doing it for him instead. “He broke my heart a-and it’s still in pieces, but it’s healing. I can’t tell you that I don’t still love him, but that doesn’t mean I’m using you to get over him. Loving you is separate from that and if you want to be my girlfriend, I’ll take it gladly.”

“You…” You stare at him in shock, a different type of moisture misting your eyes. “You love me?”

“I do.” He insists, resting his forehead against yours. “Desperately. I didn’t expect it, but I wouldn't be begging you to move in if I didn’t.”

“A-and you don’t care about… w-what happened? Really?” You check cautiously, wanting to make sure that you were both on the same page.

“I don’t care. I promise.” He assures you softly, peppering small kisses across your face. “You’ve just ended up stuck between the mess we have with each other… and can I be honest with you too?”

You nod quickly.

“I clearly didn’t establish any expectations of exclusivity with you and… it was kind of hot.” His cheeks flame at the admission, not wanting you to take it the wrong way. “Meaning I didn’t mind seeing you like that.”

“O-Oh?” You squeak, your face going crimson to match his. “I- Um-”

He silences your stammering with the press of lips to yours, humming in appreciation when you respond immediately.

“No expectations, sweetheart.” He assures you softly, thumbing your cheek. “I just wanted to be clear.”

“I just… I want the two of you to be ok.” Your eyes meet his, pleading, seeing how the pain has impacted the both of them. They’re both too important to you to continue to see them suffering. “And I don’t want to be the reason that drives you further apart, Sugu’.”

“You won’t be. I’ll figure something out.” He reaches down and picks you up by your thighs, laying your back on the covers. “Now, do you want cuddles? Or for me to help finish what he started?”

“Both?”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Over the following weeks, Geto took his time to figure out how to approach what you had asked from him and it wasn’t easy. He watched you attempt not to be a jittery mess around Satoru.

He knows you haven’t acted on the feelings he now knows you’re harboring, but he knows there’s going to be a breaking point. There were only so many heated stares you could dodge before he corners you somewhere again.

He knows it's driving you up a wall and he knows from experience what being at the receiving end of that was like. When you come to him to blow off your sexual frustrations, he gladly meets those needs. He kept to himself how it heated his insides to picture you allowing Satoru to use you again, even as he teased you relentlessly for getting so hot for your best friend.

Then there was the longing he continued to direct at Geto. It wasn’t new but it only complicated things. The mess had him ready to put his head through a wall and he was shocked it hadn’t descended into a fight at some point.

He sighs into his mug absentmindedly and Shoko continues to level that accusing squint in his direction, willing him to spill what’s on his mind.

“Out with it.” She demands after a moment of continued silence.

“I’m still in love with Satoru.”

“Everyone knows that, Suguru.” She replies back plainly, examining her nails as if she’s bored.

“But I’m obsessed with (y/n).” It’s his turn to squint at Shoko when she sighs heavily, like this is all a drag and he doesn’t need her here. Honestly, why did they go to her to moderate in the first place?

“Everyone is very aware of that.” She snorts, thinking about the amount of times over the past few months that someone in the group had caught you two together. First it was Gojo grumbling to her about seeing you making out on the couch, then Kento catching Geto bending you over the sink at some party they literally dragged him to, then there was Shoko who had the displeasure of catching you kneeling between his legs, letting him fuck your mouth.

“Well does everyone know that Satoru cornered her in our kitchen and shoved his hands down her pants while he thought I was away at work?” He snips, happy when he sees Shoko’s face pale. “That’s what I thought. So forgive me if I need to talk this out.”

Shoko is quiet for a long minute, mulling over the situation in her head, coming to the conclusion that Suguru likely had.

“If you’re trying to pick, I don’t know why.” She hums thoughtfully. “We all hated when you broke up, I know there were issues but… maybe she’s what you need to balance each other out.”

“And you think she’d be okay with it?” He chews his lip nervously, the last thing he wanted was to pressure into this type of relationship. “She said she… talks to you?”

Shoko simply sits there, evaluating what she should tell him of what she knows.

“She does. She… spoke with me when she was dealing with her feelings for Satoru. I still see that love when she looks at him, no matter how hard she tries to bury it. And she wouldn’t have been crying in my room about you if she didn’t feel the same. I think it's worth a try.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

If you’re trying to pick, I don’t know why.

Those words become Geto’s driving force when he sets out to make this a reality. He could have your love and fix things with Satoru like you asked of him. And the two of you? You could be selfish with him and have everything you want. Geto wasn’t sure how you’d react, but he could easily talk you into the positives and he knows you’re dying for Satoru to touch you again.

It was Satoru that was the wild card. Would he be able to look beyond their messy past and start again with a fresh start?

There is something within Suguru that decides that he’s going to keep this plan all to himself. He wants to capture the moment you both crack and give into this in his mind.

It's how you are pushed to ask Satoru to join your weekly movie night, Geto insisting that they should try to normalize hanging out again. And you want that desperately.

At the end of the day it didn’t matter what Satoru was trying to do to steal you from Suguru, you just missed him. You missed his laugh, his teasing smile, and his company. It was as simple as the fact that you were incomplete without him in your life, you don’t know how Suguru has handled all of these months without him at his side.

Geto is pouring your favorite drinks, the first for Satoru and the third for you. After the second drink, your body has finally relaxed enough to not be skittish when Satoru joins the two of you in the kitchen, plopping down the snacks he insisted on purchasing.

“Popcorn directly from the movie theater for the spoiled princess.” He snorts and slides the pail of popcorn down the kitchen counter before shedding his hoodie to remain in his mouth watering gray sweats and t-shirt. “Woah… slow down on the drinks and let me catch up! You ate right? Suguru, tell me she actually remembered to eat.”

You feel both of them level an assessing stare as you choke on your drink, wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

“I had a granola bar around noon?” You supply unhelpfully and snatch your popcorn before they can take it from you. “I’m fine. The only light weight here is Sugu’ anyway.”

He groans loudly at the teasing and wordlessly takes his drink and searches the cabinet for his own snack.

“That’s what happens when you miss all the parties.” Satoru joins in with you, loving the opportunities that Geto drops his guard enough to be affected by teasing. “You know there was a party where (y/n) threw up all over Kento’s loafers when he went to pick her up? Ow-!”

“You said you’d never talk about that!” You yell and Satoru hisses and rubs at his arm with a heavy pout, a look of dramatic betrayal playing in his gaze as you smack him to shut him up, your embarrassment apparent.

“Aw come on, sweetheart.” Geto chuckles and hands Satoru his own drink. “You can’t dish it and not take it back.”

You roll your eyes and grab Suguru’s arm to tug him to the couch, settling at his side and leaning against his chest. By the time you’ve melted into his chest, clutching your popcorn happily, Satoru appears from the kitchen with his half finished drink and a grin.

“Let me in!” He whines and nudges your popcorn out of the way, crawling along the sectional until his cheek is pressed against the top of your leg, his arms wrapped around your thigh as he uses it as a pillow.

You freeze in place, your hands hovering in the air, tensing at the position that used to be familiar between the two of you. Geto notes your worked up form and gently rubs your hip, calming you down as much as possible, he doesn’t want you to get spooked.

A small shiver works through you as Satoru thumbs the fabric of your pants, nuzzling into you with a content sigh. You allow him to get comfortable, getting used to the feeling of having him close again, even as he places a chaste kiss to your thigh.

Satoru has never been able to sit through a movie and soon you and Suguru are treated to the sound of his light snoring. He subconsciously kneads at you, feeling you in his sleep as he mumbles unintelligibly as he soaks in your warmth. You grit your teeth, trying to concentrate on the movie as your center throbs.

Why the fuck do you still want him so badly? It was like you never came down from the orgasm he almost pulled out of you.

“Why so horny, sweetheart?” Geto grins into your ear with a coo, enjoying how you don’t even realize you’re squirming against him. God he bets you’re soaked..

“M’not…” You mumble, keeping your eyes glued to the screen where Geto can’t see your rising blush.

“You keep trying to press your thighs together…” He points out with an amused whisper. “And your hands are twitching. Go on… He loves his hair to be pulled.”

You’re unable to contain the shudder as his hot breath caresses your skin, his nose sensually traveling up the expanse of your neck before he kisses behind your ear.

“Geto.” You grumble sternly, dropping the use of your nickname for him, communicating your denial of his request. You weren’t going to toy with your best friend just because it got your boyfriend self admittedly hot.

“Awww.” He pouts, a mockery of Satoru’s earlier action. “I know you want to… and I want to watch you do it.”

“Stop trying to cause more trouble.” You murmur as you turn to look over your shoulder to see his darkened gaze. A small frown graces your features as you chastise him. “You’re both terrible.”

“But I think we all need this, no?” He purrs, slowly kneading your hips in the way he knows turns you on as he kisses your neck with more force pulling soft, needy sighs from you. Geto uses the distraction to take hold of your wrists, using them to set your hands in his hair.

He watches greedily as you tentatively scratch at Satoru’s scalp, but growls low in frustration when you don’t do as he asks. You shriek as you feel Geto’s teeth sink harshly into your neck, making you jolt, your hands clenching and tugging at Satoru’s strands so hard it jolts him awake.

The man wakes with a throaty moan, followed by a hiss when you dig into his scalp harder, your eyes fluttering shut and rolling back when he watches Geto sink his teeth deeper and reach around to grope at your breasts under your shirt.

“‘Toru-” You whine needily for him, trying to pull him closer to stop the burning inside of you. “Please.”

He starts to move but then falters, his wide eyes flick up to where Geto is sucking purple splotches onto your skin and find the dark haired man already staring him down. Geto hums in appreciation when seeing Satoru fall back into their normal dynamic, submission suits him so well.

He used to obey him so easily. He wonders if he still would after everything that’s happened.

“Go on, ‘Toru.” Geto sloppily laps at the marks he’s left on your neck, making you writhe closer to your best friend. “Our baby girl needs you, too.”

He follows Geto’s command without hesitation, righting himself as he rises from your lap and immediately reaching to toss your shirt across the room.

“Fuck-” He groans in appreciation, seeing Geto palm your bare breast, your bra no where in sight. He falls forward, bracing his palm on the couch by Geto’s head as his mouth engulfs your other nipple, circling his tongue in time with his grip on your thigh.

“Stop teasing.” You plead, the heat in your body rising rapidly with the feeling of two sets of hands on your skin.

“You’re going to deny him his fun?” Geto coos, stopping his administration on your tit so slide a hand down your center, deftly pushing past the hem of your leggings and panties with practiced ease. “Let him savor you and I’ll take care of this needy cunt.”

“I could do that instead.” Satoru muses before switching to your neglected breast, using his free hands to grapple with your pants, working them down your legs so Geto can work you with greater freedom. He moans loudly when he’s finally met with the sight of your bare center, you’re so lewd laid out naked like this while they were both fully clothed.

“I don’t think so, ‘Toru.” Geto reprimands him before he can get any ideas, he’s not the one in charge right now. “Let her watch you strip while I get her ready for you. She’ll need it for how big you are.”

You feel Geto shift, but continue his hand’s descent until he’s drawing lazy circles around your clit. He settles you in between his spread legs, the hardened length of his cock pressing hotly into your back as he slaps your legs apart, widening them to give Satoru an unhindered view when he sinks three fingers into your dripping center.

You arch into Suguru, your eyes crossing as you feel the stretch followed by the rhythmic thrusting in and out of your tight walls.

Your eyes fly open at a sharp tug of your hair only to be greeted to the sight of Satoru’s chiseled chest as he drops his t-shirt to the floor, followed up by his sweats, leaving him in only his briefs which outline a truly impressive boner.

“See something you like?” He smirks when Geto takes the opportunity to tease your sweet spot so you can’t even stammer out an answer with how quickly your high is building. “Maybe your boyfriend will let me eat your pretty pussy, angel. You look like you need my mouth to make it all better, hm?”

“Please make it better. I want you t-to make m-me c-cum finally.” You croak out squirming on Geto’s fingers when they suddenly still.

“What? My fingers aren’t good enough for you anymore?” He teases with a grin, revealing in how you choke and sniffle, a stray tear of frustration at losing the stimulation escaping the corner of your eye.

“Baby. Y-you know they a-are-” You stammer, your hips bucking to try to fuck yourself onto them.

“Then you can cum for me instead.” His voice is commanding and absolute as he bullies them back inside of you, not stopping, even when your walls flutter around his digits, and even when you scramble to force his hand away, pushing at his wrist in a panic.

“Stop!” You sob, feeling everything build without snapping, the frantic press of his fingers and Satoru’s heated gaze too much for your body to handle. “I’m g-gonna-”

Satoru watches with rapt fascination, forcing your legs to stay apart as your body tenses and your back forms the perfect arch as you soak Geto’s wrist, more wetness joining the rest as he pulls every ounce of your orgasm out of your forcefully.

“Good baby.” Geto coos, down at you while you tremble, small hiccups flying from you at the slightest stimulation. “So good I’m gonna let him be the one to fuck you. Maybe he’ll be a good boy for me after so long and I’ll let him pump you full of his cum. I know how wild it makes you feel as it drips out of you. Tell ‘Toru how much you want it.”

He wretches your face to the side, gripping your cheeks meanly so you’re staring at Satoru who, at some point, lost his briefs and was palming the length of his cock, unable to handle the lack of stimulation any longer.

“What are you waiting for?” He smirks at how helpless you look in his exes grip, slowing the pace of his hand. Smirking when you shake your head just slightly. “Come on now… you weren’t so shy when you were begging to cum on my fingers. Let him hear how badly you want his ex, angel.”

“Please, ‘Toru.” You cry out, your eyes watering at how badly you want him. “I w-want you so badly. Please-”

“Sugu’, move out of the way.” He grumbles low, the couch dipping below the weight of his knees he settles between your spread leg, hooking his arms around your thighs to tug you down the couch towards him.

Your breath hitches at the ease in which he moves you, you cheeks flaming when he presses your thighs towards your chest to get a full look at you, the tip of his cock hovering over you before it trails through your folds to smear the wetness that Geto forced from you.

In a fit of frustration, you claw at his hip and attempt to reach for him, managing to grasp his length and pump it firmly before a second set of hands close around your wrists, forcing them off of him.

“Sugu’ let me-” Your needy whine transitions to a loud moan as his hands press your wrists to the couch cushion above your head. “Let me go!”

“You’re in the way of me watching him bully his cock into you, sweetheart.” He tuts at you like you’re an immature child, his eyes greedily taking in the sight of you spread open for Satoru, the sight even better than he imagined. He brings his eyes back to your hazy, misty ones, his cock twitching in his pants when you continue to struggle. “Besides he’s bigger than me and I know how you are. You’ll squirm around until the stretch makes you go limp.”

“I don’t c-care. I wanna touch hi- oh my fuck-!” A scream rips from your throat when Satoru takes the opportunity of your distraction to shove his cock into you in one swift motion, meeting resistance as he forces his considerable length to bottom out, slamming against your cervix.

“H-how are you still so fucking tight?” He groans and rears back to shove himself into you even harder, forcing your walls to accommodate him. “Sugu’ not fuck you good enough, angel?”

“He- fuck- he f-fucks me just f-fine-” You manage to squeak out as your hips try to squirm away only to be pinned in place when he completely manages to place you in a press, making you feel him all the way in your throat.

“Not good enough?” Geto raises an eyebrow, his tone firm and domineering as he puppeteers Satoru with practiced ease. “Keep holding her down. I’ll be back.”

You start to panic as he stands and disappears into his room, leaving you alone with Satoru who’s using the time to shoot you a feral grin, suddenly speeding up, clapping the skin of his hips against yours.

“All alone, angel.” He coos down at you, thriving at how you attempt to claw at him now that your hands are free but are unable to with the position he has you folded into. “Always knew you’d end up screaming on my cock. Who knew Sugu’ would stop being such a selfish prude with you.”

“Shit-” You erupt in shudders, feeling yourself teeter at the edge again, sobbing in desperation to see how it feels to cum around him. “Fuck, ‘Toru- Harder please!”

Your vision goes white when his thrusts turn bruising, and don’t stop, even as you try desperately to find yourself in the cloudiness of your mind.

“Come on, angel. You can give me more than that.” Satoru’s face breaks into a feral grin, watching your skin ripple with each snap of his hips. Geto was right, you really do go limp when you’re dicked down properly. “Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect for me, angel. You take my cock so good, baby.”

You’re barely able to register when Geto returns, tossing something on the couch, too busy being fucked within an inch of unconsciousness by a pussy drunk Satoru. When Geto kneels on the floor next to where your body is prone, it jolts you, making your cunt squeeze harshly down on Satoru’s length, pulling a hiss from the man.

“Sweetheart…” He coos low in your ear, learning forward to whisper in your ear so only you can hear. Goosebumps run down your body at the heat that courses through you. “Can I fuck Satoru while he fucks you?”

He was proud of you for stepping forward with Satoru, but that doesn’t mean you were ok with Geto fucking anyone but you. He hums in appreciation as your misty eyes flick to his face in shock before a particularly brutal snap of Satoru’s hips combined with the mental image of Geto dominating the man

“Oh god!” You thrash wildly, your chest heaving in the attempts to suck down breaths while you cum again.Your pleas bleed together in a string of sobs. “Pleasepleaseplease-”

“Tsk tsk, angel. I’m not done y-” Satoru starts, thinking you’re begging him to stop, but he’s been waiting for you for months, he’s not about to let this end now. His hips stutter when Geto stands suddenly and pushes his bottoms to the floor before grabbing what he threw behind Satoru. “W-What are you-? Ah!”

You’re crushed beneath the weight of your best friend as Geto kneels behind him and grips the back of his neck, shoving him forward and holding him there.

“God, you look so much better bent over.” Geto praises hotly, using the lube he snatched with one hand, fisting it along the length of his cock before smearing it between Satoru’s cheeks. “Fucking missed this..”

Satoru’s breath shudders out of him at the first press of Geto’s cock to his back entrance before he pushes himself in steadily, not stopping to give him time to adjust as he bottoms out and grabs his hip, keeping Satoru’s head forced down as he snaps his hips forward.

“Sugu’” He whines needily, doing a complete change from the cocky, domineering man who was pulling orgasm after orgasm out of. His body relaxes, allowing himself to be forced to lay on top of you as Geto makes himself at home inside of him, panting hotly into the crook of your neck, needily pawing at your hips as an anchor.

“Gonna use you to make her cum, ‘Toru.” Geto gives a deep groan, the vibration rolling through the three of you as he allows Satoru to rock back against him, pushing back into his ass to jolt him forward, his twitching cock leaving against your cervix. “You’re a good toy for us, baby. Such a good boy.”

You clench at the whimper that comes from Satoru, another orgasm rapidly approaching. Geto, ever attentive, reaches around Satoru to search for your clit, locating it with ease.

“You’re doing amazing, sweetheart.” He grunts in between his pants, urging Satoru to hit the spot inside of you that makes you see stars. “Give us one more, love.”

“F-fuck I’m gonna cum in you, angel.” Satoru’s head burrows into your neck with a guttural groan, biting into your skin, his hands groping at every inch of your skin, trapped between his two favorite feelings in the world; the stretch Suguru was giving him and the searing warmth of your cunt.

With Satoru’s lips on your skin, your mouth falls open with a silent scream as your body tenses in on itself and snaps. The clamping of your walls around him, sucking him deeper spurs him to shove as deep as possible before allowing himself to empty himself into you with a satisfied shiver, barely holding himself up to not crush you as Geto finally starts fucking into him in earnest.

“Gonna beg for it like you used to, ‘Toru?” He grins at his laborious breathing and your overstimulated, high pitched whines. “Come on. Put us all out of our misery.”

“Please, Sugu’” He pants, his voice cracking before he licks his chapped lips. “Please g-give it to me. S’been too long, please.”

“Who’s fault is that?” Geto growls and grits his teeth, willing his orgasm to hold until he can pull this out of the two of you. “Doesn’t have to be like this. Come back to me, be with us.”

“P-please, Satoru… w-want us to all be okay.” You cup Satoru’s cheeks as overstimulate tears soak your cheek, seeing everything that Suguru has done for the three of you.

“Fuck-” He lurches, his hips spasming as he empties into you for the second time, his cock spurting into you uncontrollably and control his answer. “Yes. I want you b-both-”

You slam your lips to Satoru’s, swallowing his moans when Geto slams into one last time, filling his ass with his cum. Slowly, Satoru’s breathing returns to normal as your tongues twirl each other’s lazily, only interrupted when Geto pulls Satoru’s head back, tangling his hands in his hair to give him a kiss filled with longing, passion, and all the unstated love he’s held back since their split.

Being able to see them both in the way they should be with each other fills your heart with warmth, knowing it can only get better for you all from here.

tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @severelytalentless @silversslut @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @rafzaha @chososhoney @littlemochi @bebechinas99 @saoney @pelicanpizza @damncakie @katgalle @honeyyjems @tsukikoxo @kibananya @reine-son @wallflower010 @tobaccosunbxrst @whereismysane [[[ if your blog name is crossed out i couldn't tag you]]

#kentosot original #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #satosugu #geto x gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk au #jjk angst

98 notes · View notes

ladyelissarose · 1 year ago

Text

Y’all I wrote something…

‘Karma’

Miguel O’Hara x fem-dom Spider-Woman rival

Warnings: it’s NSFW. Smut is implied and done but not as deeply written as other times- but it’s good! Smut/fluff type? Lyrics from Taylor Swift’s ‘Karma’ are in the writing and are not mine of course.

I recommend listening to ‘Karma’ by Taylor Swift while reading this.

You're talking shit for the hell of it

Addicted to betrayal, but you're relevant

You're terrified to look down

'Cause if you dare, you'll see the glare

Of everyone you burned just to get there

It's coming back around...

In slow, confident steps you roamed around the low lit room, dressed in white, lacy lingerie. Hair bouncy and gleaming off the moonlight that escape the window, skin looking tempting to touch at its glittery appearance, your tits showing off your hard nipples at the sight of a defeated god in front of you. No one would’ve known you were the devil in disguise this whole time.

Words of truth slipped off your tongue like honey and yet they affected like poison. They dripped through the ears of Miguel O’Hara, who laid spread out on your bed, tied up at your mercy. Every inch of his Adonis sculpted body was all yours to touch and see, manipulate and play with until his tears satisfied your yearning desire to see him crumble. He was a mess at this point, hair tousled and covered in sweat, yet it made you jealous on how he looked hotter and still good.

Spider-boy, king of thieves

Weave your little webs of opacity

My pennies made your crown

Trick me once, trick me twice

Don't you know that cash ain't the only price?

It's coming back around

Who would’ve thought that the sternest and most untouchable man who led an elite Task-Force of Spider-Men would be the victim to your dominance? No one could get through his thick skull and skin, and yet.. he melted at the sight of you- you didn’t have to touch him.. only be seen and heard and he was done for.

He had had his chance of playing and toying you too for a long while, leaving you in tears and desperate for more, empty and calling for him, and everytime he promised you could do the same.. unless you caught him. Miguel believed you didn’t have the stealth to catch him, or the right strategy to get him in your hand, without you saying a word.

But it didn’t take long after he left you hanging off the edge of euphoria once again, that you had your webbed trapped weaved out just for him to get tangled in. And you wore a smile in red while it was woven carefully, you knew it was going to work.. it was as if you saw the future in your hands... it was for certain you won.

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

And why did you know?

Because karma was your boyfriend... it was your god. But as you got closer and better at it.. You became Karma.. you are now the god. With pride you wore the crown and held the sculpture in your hands, having the power to let him wait or cum at your, all merciful command.

Now you have rested yourself onto his thick thigh, letting the slick that has soaked through your panties at the sound of Miguel’s whimpering, cover it completely well. Dangerously slow you let your hand trail up and down his thick length, thumb teasing his precum around it, while you sped up your movements on riding his thigh, your high-pitched moans were the evidence of how pleasurable it felt.

Eyes dark, full of lust and control rested on his that were tearing up and lit up like a warm nightlight. His once sultry voice called out to you now strained, after spending hours crying and begging for release. You’ve already ridden, stroked, sucked, kissed and deep throated that cock of his, but you haven’t let him come yet. You couldn’t.. not when he hasn’t begged enough for it.

Miguel’s abs were tight and felt like steel under your hand that rested on him to keep you steady. His cock was burning up while it was still painfully hard. In desperation to flip you around and make you pay, he pulled at the restraints, doing his best to break free for revenge.. but his weakness was you, he’ll never break through them unless it was through surrender.

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

For the fourth time you cry out and gush on his leg, riding out your ride of ecstasy as you feel the tingles of pleasure course through your veins. White caught your vision as your head was tossed back. You could feel your pussy throb at the sensitivity you’re already beginning to feel as your high subsided. The sound of your heart in your ears soon tuned out and Miguel’s pleas to you could be heard.

‘P-Por favor hermosa- me- me rindo!! N-Nunca te dejaré así otra vez.. l-lo entiendo ahora! I’m begging you!’ (please beautiful.. I’ll never leave you like that again.. I get it now)

You took a deep breath and sighed out in relief and satisfaction, first at your release on his damned thighs.. and second at the sound of his voice which has mocked and bossed you before, now whine out in surrender, begging for his release after watching you get yours on HIS body- well.. your body now ;)

Maybe it was because you were thirsty.. hungry, for something different this time, like his thick, white cum dripping from your pussy to your thighs.. or the heavenly burn it’s leaves like tequila as it trickles down your throat.. it’s salty taste resting on your pink tongue... maybe that’s why.. why you had to toss the crown of karma to the ground, and bend your knees at the only satisfaction only Miguel O’Hara could give. So on his length you situated yourself, and with seduction you speak,

‘Then give it to me papi... but swear first you’ll make me scream and come EVERY godamn time after this!-‘

‘I fucking swear!! I’ll ruin you for every man and woman... no one will compare to me, and what I’ll do to you- Ahh mami!! COÑO-‘

‘Come for me Miguel.. please let this pussy drip and cum- oh God!!’

Breathing like you ran a marathon, wasted like if you drank and partied all night.. after Miguel finally tore through your webs and railed into you until he made you see stars 2 times. Leaving you with a sore pussy and trembling legs, cum dripping out of your pussy and the remaining of it smeared on your lips like lipgloss. His sweet, desperate moans were all that replayed in your head, your name slipping out of his lips in cries at his release was your favorite sound now.

Miguel has certainly given you the fuck of the history. His whimpers have turned into deep breaths and almost incoherent words trying to comfort you, he was definitely out of breath too. And so were you at this point, 100%.

He certainly did keep up to his promise, and any doubt of him leaving you alone afterwards.. were all out the window when he cradled you close to his chest after carefully and softly cleaning you up. His voice back to its sultry and deep tone, sounding like a wave of love as he whispered promises against your hair, while he caresses your skin gently yet firmly, leaving his genuine touch of love engraved on you.

Now since then Miguel’s kisses adorn you always and satisfaction on you was written with his cum seeping out of you or its salty taste hanging off your tongue down your chin. What was once left cold and untouched on you is now left burning and marked by him, everything and everyone now knew he was yours alone. You thought you were the only one who knew you.. but that was scratched off once he bought you with his promising pleasure and love.

Oh and on top of that... the crown of Karma sat next to you every time he railed and pounded your pussy, reminding him what you were capable of if he every pulled that stunt again. And thankfully he never did, he’d only fuck you till you passed out or he fell wasted on top of you.. either way, you both never played games again, maybe tease.. but you’d eye the one that dared to test those waters, like a warning.. cause if he went low, you went lower.. or vice versa.

#miguel smut #miguel x you #miguel o’hara angst #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel spiderverse #spider man 2099 smut #spider man 2099

222 notes · View notes

theswordwrites · 3 months ago

Text

PART TWO (the alchemy)

When the tabloids pick up photos of Aemond Targaryen with a beautiful stranger, he knows the only way out is through.

(TW: nothing crazy, low-key manipulative aemond, panicked Junie :( tension)

word count: 2.6k

NEXT PART (coming soon!)

June woke to the sound of screaming. Not the soft murmur of conversation or even laughter. No—this was full-throttle, blood-chilling screaming.

“Juniper Greyson! Why is our apartment door on the front page of The Landing?!”

Her head barely left the pillow before Arianne barged into the room, throwing herself down between June and the startled orange cat, who leapt up, arching its back in indignation. Arianne shoved her phone in June’s face, the screen blindingly bright. Squinting, June's eyes adjusted—and her heart stopped.

She screamed too.

It was their front door. Her red front door, with its sad wreath and worn-out doormat, plastered across the homepage of The Landing for the world to see. Her stomach dropped as her eyes skimmed the headline, then the photo.

Her face wasn’t visible, thank the gods, but the back of her head, her red hair glowing under the porchlight, was unmistakable. And standing beside her was Aemond, leaning in close. Intimately close. Her pulse raced—were they that close, or was it just the camera angle?

Her hand flew to her mouth, shock pinning her to the spot.

“June, what the fuck?” Arianne hissed, voice laced with panic.

“Oh my Seven,” June gasped, her words tumbling out. “He—he offered me a ride home last night. After everyone got kicked out. I didn’t even see any cameras!” Frantic, she grabbed her own phone, scrolling through the news. Every gossip outlet had picked it up.

“AEMOND TARGARYEN SPOTTED WITH GIRLFRIEND”“TARGARYEN’S MIDNIGHT TRYST”“WHO IS SHE?”

The nausea hit her hard, churning in her gut as each headline blurred into the next. The photos were worse—some grainy, others heartbreakingly clear. None of them showed her face, and she silently thanked the gods for small mercies.

But it wouldn’t last.

Arianne’s voice broke through the whirlwind in her head. “This might be a bad time to tell you… but there are reporters outside. Like, right now. Edith sent me the link, and I saw them on the way in. Maybe you can sneak out the back? I can get you a hotel for a few days—it’ll blow over. Right? How long can they stay camped out?” Her voice cracked with desperation.

June pushed off the comforter, her feet hitting the floor as if moving on autopilot. Pacing had always calmed her, but today it did nothing to still the panic clawing at her chest. Arianne’s words faded to a distant hum, overpowered by the pounding of her heart.

It had just been a ride home. She hadn’t even given him her name. But soon—too soon—her family, her friends, everyone would wake up, see the news, recognize the front door, recognize her. Someone would let her name slip, and then the wolves would come.

“Do you have Aegon’s number?” June asked, voice tight with rising fear. “Or Edith—can she get it? Aemond needs to make a statement. Anything to get those people off the lawn.”

Arianne nodded, already typing furiously.

June wandered to the kitchen, her trembling hands seeking refuge in the mundane task of making coffee. She needed to do something, anything to keep her mind off the panic surging inside her. From the other room, she heard Arianne’s muffled voice: “Get him on the phone now. I don’t care if he’s with the bloody prime minister.”

A few agonizing minutes later, June’s phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: This is Aemond. A car will be at the back entrance in an hour. See you then.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

June was pacing again. The cold air in the back alleyway did little to calm her nerves, and the sight of the black sedan pulling up only made her heart beat faster. The door opened, and Aemond stepped out, his face cool and composed, as if the chaos of the morning hadn’t touched him at all.

He approached her with the same calm, collected energy that had disarmed her the night before. Only this time, the air felt different. More calculated.

His silver cropped hair seemed to be perfected with gel and she was sure he had a 10 step skincare routine by the way his skin glowed. She scoffed inwardly at how ridiculous it all was.

"Get in, June." he said, his voice low but commanding.

June hesitated. She didn’t want to. She wanted to scream and run in the opposite direction. But she knew she couldn’t. Not with the reporters swarming her building.

She didn’t even want to think about how he knew her name. If there was a file somewhere, that some assistant had put together in the last hour.

With a sigh, she slipped into the car, her stomach churning. Aemond slid in beside her, shutting the door behind him. The quiet of the car was deafening. The city outside was a distant hum, but inside, she could hear her own ragged breaths.

“What... what are we going to do?” she stammered, hating how small her voice sounded.

Aemond’s gaze flickered over to her, his sharp features unreadable. "I have a solution."

June’s stomach tightened. "A solution?"

He leaned back, his posture unnervingly relaxed, as if this were a simple business transaction. "It’s already out there. They’re spinning this as something more than what it is. But we can control the narrative. Or at least, redirect it."

June frowned, her anxiety twisting into confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Aemond's eyes locked onto hers, piercing and unwavering. "A relationship. We play the part—fake a relationship for the cameras, ride out the attention until something bigger comes along. You’d get protection, privacy—control over the story. I’ll make sure no one crosses any boundaries."

June’s breath hitched. "A fake relationship? You’re serious?"

"Very," he replied, his voice cool, almost clinical. "It benefits both of us. For you, this dies down faster if they think we’re together. For me… well, it keeps the media focused on something I can manage. The public thinks I’m cold. Unreachable. But if I have a pretty, smart, normal girl by my side, they’ll think differently."

She stared at him, her mind racing. Pretty, smart, normal. If she wasn’t in shock, she would have blushed at the compliment. It was insane. Absolutely insane. But the chaos, the reporters, the calls to her parents house—all of it was too much. Could she really do this? Fake a relationship with one of the most notorious men in the Seven Kingdoms—him?

"And what happens when it’s over?" she asked, her voice tight, afraid of the answer.

Aemond shrugged, nonchalant. "We release a statement. Say it didn’t work out. It ends when we decide it ends."

June’s head swam. This wasn’t her life. It couldn’t be. A fake relationship? With a Targaryen?

"I don’t know if I can do this," she whispered, more to herself than to him.

Aemond’s gaze softened, if only for a moment. "You don’t have to decide now. But if you don’t, the media will keep digging until they figure out who you are. Once they have your name, it’ll only get worse. This way, we control it. You’ll have a say."

Her pulse was pounding in her ears. He made it sound so reasonable, so logical. But there was nothing logical about pretending to date one of the most powerful men in the country. Nothing logical about becoming tabloid fodder.

She bit her lip, trying to steady herself. "I—" The car’s interior was suffocating in its silence. June could barely keep her hands still as they rested on her lap, fingers nervously tapping. Aemond sat beside her, still composed, as if everything was perfectly under control.

“Look, this is absurd,” she muttered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just… fake date you for the media.”

Aemond turned to her, his expression unreadable, but his tone patient, deliberate. “You can. And it’s the best option for both of us.”

June scoffed, shaking her head. “Why would I even agree to this? I don’t belong in your world.”

He leaned forward slightly, his sharp gaze settling on her. “Because I’m not just offering you protection from the press, June. I’m offering you something that could change your future.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Aemond’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. “You’re an art history student, aren’t you? I’ve done my research.”

June’s heart skipped a beat. He knew about her studies? More than she had revealed in the car, she was sure.

“You want to run a museum one day,” he continued smoothly. “That’s no small dream. It takes connections. Money. The right backing. It’s a difficult world to break into—especially if you’re trying to build your reputation from scratch.”

June stared at him, her pulse quickening. Where was he going with this?

“The Targaryen family owns one of the largest art foundations in Westeros,” Aemond said, his voice low and persuasive. “We sponsor galleries, exhibitions, even entire museum wings. If you agree to this arrangement, I can make sure you have access to that network. Funding, internships, introductions to the right people. In six months, your path to an executive director position would be paved.”

June felt the air leave her lungs. The weight of his offer hit her like a wave, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. The Targaryen Art Foundation was legendary. A foot in that door could mean everything for her career. But still…

“You’d… you’d help me do that?” Her voice was barely a whisper, thick with disbelief.

Aemond’s expression softened, just slightly. “Of course. You’re not just some pawn, June. I’m offering you something real. You help me, and I’ll help you.”

June pressed her back into the seat, her mind racing. She had spent years studying, dreaming of running her own museum, curating her own exhibitions. But the path to that dream had always felt like climbing a mountain with no clear way up. And here he was, offering her the fast track—offering her the keys to the very world she’d wanted to be a part of.

But it was a deal with the devil, wasn’t it? She’d have to pretend to date him, let the media spin whatever story they wanted about them. It wasn’t real. None of it would be real.

Except for the opportunities.

“And the money?” she asked cautiously, her voice trembling despite her attempt to sound calm. “What’s in this for you, financially?”

Aemond’s gaze sharpened, his tone remaining calm but calculated. “I’ll pay you, of course. You’ll be well-compensated for your time. Enough to focus on your studies, without needing to worry about working part-time jobs or scraping by. You’ll have complete financial security.”

He leaned in slightly, the air between them suddenly more intense. “But the connections, June—that’s the real offer here. Money comes and goes. What I’m offering is access to the art world’s most exclusive circles. Doors that would take you years to open will be unlocked in weeks.”

June’s mind whirled. She could already see the possibilities—working with the finest curators, studying priceless collections, gaining recognition in the field she loved. But it came at a cost. She’d be tied to Aemond. Her life would be a spectacle. Could she really do that?

Her voice wavered when she finally spoke. “This isn’t just a casual arrangement, is it? I’d be… giving up my privacy. My life.”

Aemond’s eyes softened, just a touch. “Yes, for a time. But think of it this way—you’re already in the spotlight now, whether you like it or not. The press will dig, they’ll find out who you are eventually. But with me, you’ll have control. We’ll dictate what they see. What they write.”

June stared at him, torn between the lure of the opportunity he dangled before her and the fear of what it would cost her.

“What if I say no?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Aemond’s expression hardened ever so slightly, his scar profound in the afternoon light. “Then the media will hound you until they find your name. Your face will be all over the tabloids. You’ll have no control, and it could take years to recover. But say yes, and you’ll come out of this stronger—protected, and with a future in the art world you’ve always dreamed of.”

"You can’t be serious," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper, the disbelief in her tone clear.

Aemond turned his head, one eyebrow arching, his expression neutral, almost detached. "I’m always serious, June."

Her heart sank at the realization. Of course, he was. The Aemond Targaryen, politician and strategist, didn’t do anything without careful consideration.

What happens if this gets out of hand?" she asked, the anxiety in her voice creeping higher.

He exhaled slowly, as though he had anticipated this reaction. "That’s why I have something else in mind," he said, his voice smooth, calculated.

June frowned, suspicion rising. "What do you mean?"

Aemond shifted in his seat slightly, his eyes locking onto hers. "A contract. Something formal to protect both of us. We agree on the terms—how long this lasts, what we can expect from each other. It ensures there’s no confusion, no crossed boundaries."

Her stomach tightened at the word contract. It made the entire thing feel more like a business deal than an arrangement between two human beings. "A contract?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," he said evenly. "It’s standard procedure for situations like this. We set rules, clear expectations, and, most importantly, it outlines how this ends when the time comes. It’s clean. Controlled." His eyes bore into hers, as if daring her to find fault with his logic.

June swallowed hard, her mouth dry. "So this is just… paperwork to you?"

Aemond’s jaw tensed slightly, though his voice remained calm. "This is about making sure neither of us is exploited. The media will be relentless, and we can’t afford to slip. The contract will define the terms of our public relationship, and in return, you’ll get the protection you need—and the benefits I promised."

Her heart pounded in her chest, a rush of anger and disbelief swirling inside her. "Benefits? You mean your connections?" Her voice dripped with skepticism, though deep down, the idea of access to his world—the Targaryen Art Foundation, the endless resources—was tempting.

Aemond leaned forward slightly, his gaze never wavering. "Yes, my connections. My family’s art foundation. Everything you need to build your career, to get where you want to be. Think of it as an investment—in your future."

The offer was cold, transactional, but so achingly practical that June couldn’t help but feel the weight of it pressing down on her. This wasn’t about love, or even attraction—it was a political move. And in Aemond’s world, everything was calculated, every step deliberate.

June felt her pulse quicken, the weight of his offer sinking in. She hated how reasonable he made it sound. Hated how tempting the prospect was, despite everything.

"I’ll have the contract drawn up tomorrow," Aemond continued, his tone decisive, leaving no room for argument. "We’ll go over the terms, and you’ll have time to review it with your lawyer, if you want."

A lump formed in her throat, and she could only nod, her voice lost somewhere in the haze of disbelief and confusion. It was happening too fast, slipping out of her control.

“If you don’t want to, I’ll do what I can. Put a statement of denial out. But those vultures in your front yard won’t stop for a few weeks, your name will still get out no matter how hard we try.” He sighed and June could have sworn the look in his eyes said I’m sorry.

“Okay,” She reached for the door, “You have my number. Call me when you have the contract drawn up.”

With that, she was stepping out of the door and back into her apartment.

What the hell did she get herself into?

a/n: AHHHHH okay. what do you think? is it worth it???? next part will be the contract itself and perhaps a first outing. super excited to continue!

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #modern!aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #theswordwrites #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye

47 notes · View notes