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smoooothoperator · 2 days ago

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Die With A Smile

04: Wake Me Up

Bucky Barnes x mutant!OC (Astrid Rowan)

HYDRA victims, found family, "strangers" to lovers, emotional scars, first love

Masterlist

previous part

a/n: Hey guys how are you doing?? Did you all watch the new THUNDERBOLTS* trailer???👀👀

The night was cold and dark. I would have casted a small flame to warm myself, but I knew it would put us in danger. The only thing that kept us in disguise were the snowflakes. My breath was heavy and my heart pounded against my chest violently. I could feel him behind me, his warm body and warm breath hitting the side of my face.

“Stay close” he murmured, with a deep and raspy voice, but there was a softness in it too, something that always made me feel safe and protected.

I turned my head slightly, watching that black mask that covered half of his face and those blue eyes that always knew what I was thinking.

He moved slowly, and I could feel his right hand on my shoulder, squeezing it softly as a sign of reassurance. His touch was rough, but careful, protective. I always wanted to lean into it, trying to find a safe space, as if he was the only thing keeping me sane and safe. My gaze shifted down to where his hand was and without thinking, I reached out intertwining my fingers with his on top of my shoulder.

“We go in three… two…” he whispered, his lips brushing my ear.

With goosebumps all over my body I focused on what we had in front of us, and the fire in my hands started to tickle me, knowing that I was ready to attack.

And then, we moved as one.

I followed his pace, slipping through the shadows, following his lead as we moved through a dense forest. Our movements were silent and calculated.

When we arrived at the main door, he gave me a slow nod, making me raise my hand. I let my fingertips brush the cold metal of the chain, and the heat started to radiate through my arm. Flames came out of my hand, melting the metal and making the chain fall to the ground, melting the snow with it.

Inside, guards showed up, alerted by the opening of the doors. My partner sprinted in front of me with precise and lethal movements, and I followed him, feeling how my left arm tickled with ice in my veins while my left hand still felt on fire. A subtle movement of my left arm sent a silver of frost racing across the floor, trapping one of the guards inside of a block of ice.

The man that came with me took advantage and moved to the next guard, stabbing him and shooting him with a gun.

His hand found mine, grounding me as we paused in a doorway. I felt my powers lower until they were harmless for him, paying attention to his movements.

“You okay?” he whispered, looking down at my hands, one of them cold and the other warm. “Together we’re unstoppable, huh?”

I nodded and smiled, and then we focused on the next room. Flames danced around me, burning whatever my mind wanted. I moved my left hand and I searched for it, for blood. I made a fist with my left hand and immediately I saw how the guards in front of me stopped moving, with eyes full of panic watching how my partner moved towards them and cut their throats.

As we moved deeper into the building, I sensed a shift. We had completed the mission, but I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay beside him.

He paused by a broken window, moonlight casting a silvered glow across his form. My hand reached out instinctively, finding his shoulder, fingers pressing into the hard muscle beneath his coat. His hand rose to cover mine, and for a moment, we stood in silence, listening to the world go quiet around us.

“We’re going to be okay” he whispered, as if he was telling me a secret.

I nodded, unable to respond with words. My throat was tight, and my heart hammered with a beat that felt less like adrenaline and more like fear. He pulled me closer and I let myself lean into his warmth, inhaling his scent, that faint hint of metal and leather. My arms wrapped around his waist pressing my body pressing to his, feeling his heartbeat against my own.

“I don’t want to go back” I whisper, feeling panic, knowing what will happen next.

His silence speaks, and I knew he was thinking the same. Instead, he pulls me closer, his forehead resting against mine.

“I won’t let them hurt you” he whispered, taking off his mask. “They won’t touch you”

“But…”

“It will be okay” he whispered, pressing his lips against my forehead. holding me tighter. “I will be okay, Aetheris”

And after that innocent kiss, everything turned black, like I was a machine turned off, fainting and falling into his arms.

“Wake me up, Aetheris” that voice said. “You know how to fix me. I’m ready”

A loud gasp broke the silence of the room while I woke up from the dream. My body was drenched in sweat and the sheets were twisted around me as if I had been fighting something in my sleep.

The memory of his voice was still echoing in my mind, hearing that familiar deep and raspy voice filled with both danger and warmth. I could feel his presence as if he had slipped through the walls between dreams and reality.

My hands were shaking as I ran them over my face, trying to calm my breathing. That face that had been a blur before during all the training I had with Okoye, that one hidden behind a shadow and a black mask, was now crystal clear. The strands of brown dark hair falling against his forehead, the way his lips curved into a slight smile whenever he called with that name. The same hair and lips I have been seeing all over a week.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, pressing my bare feet against the cold floor. I looked at my room, watching the things that now decorate it. In the ledge of the window there are a few plants I bought yesterday in the market, as well as some animals carved in wood. On top of the desk there’s a small box with food for cats just in case I cross paths with another one of them.And in the wardrobe there are plenty of clothes Shuri ordered for me and the uniform Okoye gave me.

Without thinking much, I grabbed a simple dark violet dress and slipped in it, looking at myself in the mirror. The last few days I noticed things about me, since it was the first time I saw my reflection. The beauty mark under my left eye was something I always looked at, as well as the scar that crosses my lips. And my bright blue eyes somehow always matched with the clothes I wear.

I tied my hair in a braid and walked out of the room, adjusting the Kimoyo beads around my wrist. My heart pounded as I made my way down the hall, my footsteps nearly silent in the early morning stillness. The palace was alive, with the servants and the guards walking around the corridors, all of them greeting me with the now familiar Wakandian salute.

I couldn’t explain the urgency I felt, so when I saw one of the women that works in Shuri’s laboratory walking into one of the jets I didn’t doubt it and walking behind her, smiling awkwardly at her and sitting in one of the chairs.

As soon as the jet landed, I made my way into the building. Moving on instinct, I headed to the cryo room, the lights of the hallway lighting up with every step I made further into it. The door opened slowly as I stood in front of it and the light inside of the room turned on.

The room was cold as always, making me shiver as I walked closer to the capsule. I rested my forehead against the glass, my breath fogging the surface in small clouds. My fingers pressed against it, and suddenly a rush of images filled my mind.

The cold night. The heat of flames dancing on my fingertips. His hand on my shoulder, steady and reassuring. The two of us moving through a forest, in sync, silent, deadly.

His quiet laugh as he whispered my name.

“Aetheris”

His face was fully clear now, unmasked and open. The lines of his face, the blue of his eyes, the way he looked at me as if I were his entire world in the moments we were together.

It had been real. We had been real.

I closed my eyes, and more images surfaced, each one sharper than the last. Him and I in that dark, a snow covered forest, sharing a quiet moment between missions. The way he held me, like I was his anchor, something grounding him in a world of shadows. The way he always kissed my forehead before everything went dark.

With a shiver, I opened my eyes slowly, grounding myself in the present, but my hand remained against the glass.

“Soldat” I whisper, my voice a soft whisper in the quiet room as I pronounced the way I used to call him. “Oh, soldat…”

I looked at his face and the memories started to come into my mind slowly, making me feel dizzy and nauseous.

“All this time… They erased you from my mind” I whisper. “Everything, all the memories, our missions… Why?”

It had been two days since those memories of the soldat, of Bucky, came to me fragment by fragment, each of them leaving me more confused and yet more satisfied in a way I hadn’t felt before.

I hadn’t told anyone. Not Shuri, not T’Challa, not even Okoye. It felt like I was standing on the edge of something I couldn’t control, a deep abyss between what I remembered and what I didn’t. Each day, the memories came in as pieces of a puzzle I wasn’t sure I wanted to complete.

I couldn’t ignore that pull, that link between him and I.He was alive, waiting for something I wasn’t even sure I fully understood.

“Astrid, are you coming? I need your help in the lab” Shuri’s voice sounded in the bracelet. “Astrid?”

“Y-yeah, I’m on my way”

I hadn’t expected it, but there was something about the urgency in her tone that made me drop everything. It wasn’t often Shuri asked for help directly, especially not from someone like me. She was the genius here, the one who fixed things, who found solutions.

I didn’t speak as I walked down the hallway of the Wakandan lab, nodding slowly to the people that crossed my path. My mind was still spiraling. The weight of the last few days pressed down on me, but I didn’t know how to talk about it. How can I explain everything? How can I explain him without sounding like a traitor?

“You’ve been avoiding me the last few days sShe looked up as I entered and her eyes narrowed slightly as she observed my hesitation.

I didn’t know how to answer her. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was afraid or because I was too confused by what I had started to realize. I had no control over the memories that kept slipping through the cracks in my mind.

“I’ve just been thinking” I finally said, my voice low. “About... About everything. About the sargent, too”

“You’ve been here long enough. If you’re going to tell me something, Astrid, now is the time” she said, raising an eyebrow, stepping closer to me.

“I… The last few days, some memories came back” I sighed. “Not only during the lessons with Okoye. In my sleep I have flashbacks. And… When I go to the cryo room”

She looked at me, tilting slightly her head to the side, listening to me. She crossed her arms in front of her chest as she sat at the edge of a working table. I could see some of the workers in the room leaving, making me take a deep breath to continue.

“He’s…. he’s not just someone I fought with” I started, feeling my breath quicken. “Bucky... was my partner. We-” I stopped, swallowing hard. “We were... together, I think. I remember our missions, how we worked together, and we were… Perfect. But I think HYDRA erased everything from him in my mind, like he never existed. I don’t know why… I hear him, Shuri. In my dreams, he was the voice that kept me awake all the time, the voice that guides me through Okoye’s lessons, and the voice that leads me to the cryo room”

“So that’s why his brain activity spikes whenever you’re near him” she murmured, almost to herself.

Her expression softened and stepped closer to me, placing her hands on my shoulders. My breath started to be normal again and I sighed smiling weakly at her.

“Tell me everything, Astrid. I’m here to help” she said, squeezing my shoulders softly.

I hesitated for a moment longer, but then I let everything spill out. I told her about the missions, the shared moments of warmth in the cold. I explained how I remembered the connection between us, the pull I felt toward him. I spoke of how I thought I could wake him up, that the link we shared was something more than just memories.

“So, you’re saying you can trigger his awakening? That you have some kind of connection to him?” she asked, looking back at the screens.

“I think so, yeah” I nodded. “I don’t know how exactly, but I feel like if I just… if I could touch him, really connect with him, maybe it would be enough."

"We’ll bring him out of cryo, and if this connection between you is strong enough, it might be exactly what he needs to recover.” she nodded, moving to the control screen.

Together, we walked to the cryo room. My heart was going fast, beating against my rib cage hard like a drum. Shuri walked towards the screens next to the capsule, working in it. I saw the capsule’s glass slowly lifting, the chill of the cryo vapor swirling out into the room. I took a step forward, my pulse quickening as I approached him, unable to take my eyes off the man who had been a ghost in my mind and was now real and right here in front of me.

“Alright, Astrid” Shuri said gently, watching me closely. "Try to reach him. Trust whatever that instinct is inside you.”

With a trembling hand, I reached out and laid my fingers on his chest, just above his heart. His skin was cool beneath my touch, and I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. I closed my eyes, reaching for that energy, that strange warmth I had felt before with my fire.

But as I poured my energy into him, my hand tingling with the familiar warmth, his body remained still, his eyes closed. The seconds stretched painfully, and I started to feel tired and weak.

“Sometimes it takes a while for people to come back after cryo,” Shuri said softly, though I could sense the uncertainty in her voice. "Maybe he needs time, or maybe it’s something deeper that’s holding him back”

I pulled my hand away reluctantly, fighting against the helplessness that threatened to overwhelm me.

I failed.

"What now?" I whispered, feeling that I was on the edge of something fragile, that one wrong move could shatter everything.

Shuri looked down at Bucky and then at me, taking a deep breath while she played with the rings on her fingers.

“There’s a small house by the lake, not far from here. It’s quiet, peaceful. It might be a better place for him to rest and recover, and for you to… continue trying, if you feel that pull again.” her expression softened, her understanding of my connection to Bucky more profound than I expected. “I’ll arrange for him to be moved there. If there’s any chance this bond you share can reach him, maybe the calm surroundings will help.”

I nodded slowly, playing with the tip of my braid. I looked at him and sighed.

He has to wake up. I need answers.

taglist

@alltoomaples @jadeofspadesxp @leptitlu @deliciousfestsalad @mendes-bae

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fatuismooches · 11 months ago

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I BRING FOR THEE SOME JOLLYFULL DOTTORE FLUFF....

I wish I could celebrate christmas with Dottore and his segments ommmggg.... IMAGINE all of the segments fighting to have their gift to you opened first 💀💀 full on brawls (while theyre all fighting Zandy comes up to reader and gives them his present LOL sneaky mf)

OG Dottore using the pufflings as ornaments for the christmas tree 💀 reader is NOT amused. All the segments eyeing their presents from reader and having to hold themselves back from pouncing on the wrapped gift. augugushisohobskbbkds

Reader getting them all the dottores theur own personalized gifts, each one unique and they're all so happy and yippeful!!!! 😭

(side note I cannot wait for winter break omg.....) - 🐓

AHH YES!! HOLIDAY SHENANIGANS WITH DOTTORE AND THE SEGMENTS!! <3 Ah you would have to be the one to convince him to do all this stuff... honestly, he considers the holiday spirit and traditions rather a waste of time and doesn't see the point, but, you look so happy and excited! And you've gotten little Zandy on your side too, telling him all the stories and sweet things people do on Christmas. So now he has two gremlins begging him for just a little bit, the tiniest touch of Christmas decoration. Fine.

Admittedly, gift-giving is not one of the segments' strong points, their idea of gifts is rather... well, very Dottore-like, if you know what I mean. But, you still treasure anything they give you, so they don't have that much of a problem! (Though you probably shouldn't answer their question if they ask you what you want. Because then you'll end up with like a dozen different copies of the same gift.) Also, they're very competitive when it comes to this. It's like a battle to see whose gift you liked the best, so please try to love all of them equally because you don't want to deal with an overly gloating segment. (Bb Zandy definitely does that!! Clever little boy taking advantage of the chaos to give his favorite person their gift! Ahh he probably did something handmade like a storybook for you and was worried that it wouldn't be as good since it has no monetary value but, you reassured him you love it dearly.)

NOOOO Prime being mean to the Puffttores as usual!! He picks the lil guys up by that strand of blue hair and hooks them to the tree... and watches as they miserably fail to get free... you immediately unhook the poor babies. If you think about it, your gift is probably like, the first gift they've ever received before. So they are ANTSY about what possibly it could be. One segment was caught trying to open his gift and you gave him a swift scolding. (AHH the image of you carefully wrapping all of their gifts and adding their name tag to each is sooo!!)

Mistletoe traps are a must as well. The minute you jokingly tell them about the tradition of kissing under it, suddenly they are placed in the most random areas of the usually grim lab. You brought this upon yourself.

You also bake some different sweets for them on Christmas morning as well! You leave the trays to cool for a few minutes but when you come back, everything is already gone. Sigh.

#smooches talks #🐓 anon #dottore love notes <3 #zandy bb <3 #i dont even celebrate christmas (we dont celebrate anything tbh 💀) but i always wanted to have a tree since i was a kid #i want to decorate the tree with the harbingers!! i want them to help me put the star on top!#i want us to watch the snow fall together!!#i want to give them heartfelt gifts and receive gifts from them!! its so cute!#also you will make it to winter break 🐓 anon. you got this!!

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gojonanami · 6 months ago

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“ A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME ”

pairing: satoru gojo x reader

summary: you come home after a long day of work unable to find the person you call home anywhere — until you reach the bedroom.

warnings: 18+ suggestive, fluff, comfort, some angst, implications of the shinjuku showdown arc, implied gojo is no longer a sorcerer, gojo is your househusband, taking a bath together, taking care of him, copium really, satoru being a silly man

w/c: 1,184

“I’m home!”

You call into your home, the clatter of your keys and shoes as you shedded the things that chained you to the outside to submerge yourself in your oasis and into his arms. But as you got no reply, you stepped into your living room, scanning over the kitchen, to find no one.

Now where was your home?

“Satoru?” you called, heart skipping a slight beat, he was always waiting for you when you got home, usually on the couch or maybe in the kitchen the clank of the knife as he chopped away. Or even the many times that he was waiting by the door to only ambush you with kisses. But this time, nothing.

You rounded the corner to the hallway and peeked into your bedroom to find him asleep. You crept closer, careful not to wake him, and yup, he was fast asleep. His pretty snow white lashes resting against his cheeks, his chest slowly rising and falling as the soft sounds of his breaths parted his lovely lips.

You could watch him sleep for hours. You knew he never did enough of it before, and you’d argue he still didn’t do enough of it now. He always said he was fine sleeping 6 hours since it was twice as much as he usually got — and now he was working at home, so he could be ease.

But even so, you know he needed more.

As if he senses your thought, he stirs, starry blue eyes finding yours as he flutters sleep from his gaze, “sweetheart?” He’s murmuring, voice still beautifully raspy from sleep, “when did you get home?” He’s shifting to get up, but you use gentle hands to ease him back, “I haven’t started on dinner yet, sweets—“

“I got it, Toru,” you’re running your fingers through his hair, “just rest, baby,” and a protest is already on his lips, “let me guess what you did today — cleaned the house from roof to floor, stocked us on groceries, cooked lunch for me for the week, and probably a million other things,” you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, “I think I can handle dinner for one night at least,”

He’s pouting now, “but you just got home from work, Princess, what kind of househusband would I be—“ and you can’t help but laugh, he loved his self appointed title of househusband, especially since it was one he had chosen for himself, and he took any opportunity — even now to call himself that.

“I think even the absolute best househusbands need a break, and should listen to their wives, since I’m the one you want to pamper so much,” and his lips party in protest, but you’re leaning down to kiss them and his pout away, “let me take care of you, Toru,”

He’s sighing, as he leans up to press his forehead to yours, “and does your offer include a bath, sweetheart?”

~~~

“Y’know sometimes I feel guilty,” and you pause in your massage of his head, fingers tangled in his hair, suds from the bath you’d drawn for him covering both of your bodies as he leans against you in your tub, back pressed flush to yours.

“Guilty about what?” you ask, holding your tongue on the million reasons why he shouldn’t.

“For so long, I was the strongest,” he gives a small chuckle, “and it was fun, sometimes. But it was mostly lonely,” he leans back to look up at you, a small grin on his lips, “except when I was with you,” your lips curl, “and now I get to be with you, and I get to stay home — and the worst thing I have to do are the dishes,” and you snort.

“I told you I’d do them if you hate them so much,”

But he’s shaking his head, “Sometimes I think trying to deal with our cast iron is worse than fighting Sukuna—“ and you roll your eyes, “but there’s always this urgency that I have to be doing more. Telling me to keep going, moving, fighting—“

“You’ve done enough, Toru, more than enough,” your fingers cup his cheek, “too much, honestly. It’s okay to rest now. You’ve done your part—“

“But—“

“Didn’t you or someone say jujutsu is like a marathon, a baton pass?” Your fingers run through his white locks, before you shift yourself to sit in his lap instead, “the marathon is over, racers have packed up and gone home, and the finish line has been crossed,” your fingers rest on the back of his neck, tracing his undercut, “and that’s because of you and all you did to fight and raise up the next generation,” you say softly, and he’s pressing his head to your forehead.

“Is it okay for me to rest now?” and you’re pulling him into your arms, hoping your touch conveys what your words can’t.

“Yes, it is, Satoru,” you’re pressing soft kisses to his neck, “you don’t need to be the strongest. You’re Satoru Gojo, and that’s all I want,” and he leans back, “you’re all I want,”

“Is that a proposal?” And you snort.

“We’re already married, weirdo—“ and his lips find yours, as they always did, his arms around your bare waist, as the water shifted and splashed, but you could barely feel anything except his lips against yours and the circle of his thumb against the small of your back.

He finally pulls away, a genuine smile on his lips, “And you married this weirdo,” and you chuckle, tracing his jaw with your finger, “you’re stuck with me for life,”

“Promise?” And he’s kissing you again in an instant, stealing your breath like he did the first time you met him all those years ago at jujutsu tech. And you knew you’d never love anyone else — not like him.

“Promise.”

Bonus:

Satoru’s arms wrap around you from behind as the two of you towel off after your bath, “what are we having for dinner?”

“Well someone insisted on me being in here with him, so I had to order out,” and he’s grinning, as he nuzzles your neck.

“Whoopsie, hehe,” and he’s humming, as he tugs your hips against his, the friction drawing a gasp from your lips, “can we have dessert first?”

“It is dessert. We’re having ice cream for dinner—“ and he’s kissing you again, but this time it’s languid and messy — all tongue and teeth, until he’s pulling away with a smirk at your breathless face.

“I want something sweeter, wife,” and you smile.

“Think you can finish before the delivery gets here?” And he’s already picking you up with ease in his arms, pinned under him in a moment, as his ocean blues flash with mischief from between your thighs.

“I can, but I don’t know if you’ll be done by then.” He says cheekily, as you only sigh.

If there was one thing that would always be true is that you would always be weak to Satoru Gojo — but not his abilities, but who he is.

Your husband.

“Let’s see, hm?”

a/n: I’m real upset about the leaks and this is my coping. I needed this.

taglist: @staryukis, @cloverlilies, @asgoodasdead666, @strawmariee, @chuuyasboots, @forest-fruits-jam, @catsgomurp, @rat-loves, @hanlay, @risuola, @spider-fan72, @sunamatic, @difficultdomains

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #gojo satoru smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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anxiousbabybird · 10 months ago

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Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged HCs

I started Love and Deepspace yesterday so please have my slightly unhinged HCs for the men so far. And minors don’t you dare interact

Part 2

Rafayel

He’s a biter. Leaves you covered in marks from your neck all the way down your thighs.

Plans a date where he’s laid out a huge canvas on the floor of his studio, puts your fave color paint on your hands and his favorite color on his hands, plus several globs of the two colors across the canvas, and then proceeds to have the wildest three rounds of sex on that canvas as it gets progressively more covered in paint. Sells the painting for 6 figures a few weeks later and uses it as an excuse that you need to make more of them.

Tells you his best masterpiece is painting your body with his cum—got really into it once and dipped the paint brush into your cunt to collect his cum and then painted it across your breasts

Has a secret sketch book that’s nothing but pictures of you. Lots of them are of you sleeping when he can study your features but there’s still quite a few he drew from memory.

Made you lay down naked with your legs spread and be still so he could draw the most detailed image of your pussy you could possibly imagine. It’s his personal fave that no one besides him will ever see.

Sees shibari as a beautiful art form and likes to practice with you—has a whole album in his phone just of pics of you tied up all pretty for him

Rarely gets soft in a serious way, he much prefers the teasing back and forth you two usually have.

Xavier

He’s definitely broken into your room Edward Cullen style and watched you sleep

His favorite dates are taking you into the forest at night to watch the stars and moon together. Bonus points if you come across a wanderer and get to fight together.

Clingy after you become his, always wants to be touching you and doesn’t let you out of his sight (and yes that means sometimes he’s following you but it’s just because you’re brave and reckless and he worries)

When he eats you out, he holds both your hands in his for you to hold on to and does it with no hands—makes you cum more times on his tongue than you could fathom (and yes, he’s eating you for his pleasure)

Downloaded a tracker into your watch so he can know where you are at all times

Gets horny when he watches you fight and has def pulled you aside during a mission for a quickie in which you end up having your cunt stuffed with cum for the remainder of the mission

Such a cuddler but like a cat where he only wants to cuddle if he wants to—falls asleep nearly instantly in your arms like the cute sleepyhead he is

Zayne

Finds it so cute the first time he comes to your apartment and sees all the little snow creatures he’d made you sitting in a windowsill together. Makes you so many more after that. Sends you a bouquet of flowers made from his ice too (#Elsa)

Has food delivered to you at lunch on days he knows you’re super busy so you don’t forget to eat since you often forget to take care of yourself (he doesn’t mind too much since he likes that you let him take care of you)

Prefers kisses over hugs, except when he’s sad because of a patient (then he likes the warm comfort of your hugs)

Moves his glasses to the top of his head and rubs the bridge of his nose when he gets really stressed

Brings you a mild painkiller after blowing your back out, a smug but tiny smile on his lips, and tells you, “I was a bit rough so humor me and take this medicine. I don’t want you in excess pain because of me.”

Loves when you want to lay on his chest when he’s reading through cases and medical journals at night. He’ll read them out loud until you fall asleep and then finish them quietly as you snore softly into his chest

Calls you before a difficult surgery because your voice instantly calms him down

Into bondage—specifically he likes to tie you up so you can’t escape when he starts to overstimulate you. He really can’t help it, you just make such pretty noises for him when he gets you to that point that he has to keep going

Tags: @adaurielle @luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps

#love and deepspace #love and Deepspace HCs #zayne love and deepspace #Zayne HCs #zayne x reader #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel HCs #rafayel x reader #Xavier x reader #xavier love and deepspace

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rememberwren · 5 months ago

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Complicated Pleasures

OR: Home Videos. You (fem!reader) and Ghost have been married for years when your prodigal friend Johnny finds out that you make and post porn together. Feelings happen. 13k

About this: m/m, f/m, oral f and m receiving, anal sex, PIV, kink, pornography, sir kink, slight objectification, objectionable writing, soft!simon, very soft fic altogether, cum sharing.

((A video begins.

A bed in a tidy room. Identifying features have been hidden: pictures placed face down on the nightstands, blinds drawn tight until the room is cast in a cool glow. A woman sits amongst the nondescript bedspread and sheets, her legs tucked up against her chest and arms wrapped around her thighs, naked except for the mask that does little to truly obscure her face.

Once she knows the video has begun, it is like she blooms, arms and legs falling away to reveal the soft petals of her nakedness: the plains of her body, the angles and curves. She’s near perfect, Soap thinks, already fisting his hard cock.

She looks almost exactly like you.

Then a man walks around from the other side of the camera, and Soap’s heart leaves his body.))

“Johnny!” you say brightly, throwing open the front door. In streams the cold air and bright sunshine reflecting off the snow, and in steps Johnny with snowflakes in his hair and on the shoulders of his coat, gifts wrapped in bright shades of gold and silver tucked beneath one of his arms.

He stomps his feet, boots shedding packed snow on the doormat, and leans in to deposit the gifts a safe distance away so that he can open his arms and gather you up in them. Your fingers tangle in his jacket, holding him close. He is warm even after coming in from the snow, his scent like Christmas itself: woodsy pine and crackling fires. You feel Simon’s presence appear in the living room doorway and begin to pull away, trying not to hog his friend, even if you desperately want to.

“Lookit you, bonnie as ever,” Johnny says against your ear. He lets you go, bending down to unlace his boots and call a greeting to Simon: “I see you brooding over there, LT. Happy Christmas to yeh.”

“No titles at Christmas, Johnny.”

“Yessir.”

“You didn’t need to bring gifts,” you scold him.

“Of course I did—it’s fucking Christmas,” says Johnny with a grin as he straightens. He passes you the gifts, a small package and a larger one, each wrapped by a practiced hand that you sense must not have been Johnny’s own. You wonder if there isn’t a girl in his life now—except you and Simon had extended the invitation to one, if so. Why he wouldn’t have brought her, you couldn’t understand.

Maybe his mum wrapped the gifts.

Simon and Johnny clasp hands which turns into a hug. Watching them together makes the dust settle in some riotous part of your heart. The two of them—their friendship—just makes perfect sense in its improbability.

Simon mutters something under his breath and Johnny nods, burying his face deeper into Simon’s broad shoulder. You have the perfect vantage point of Johnny’s face: his eyes squeezed shut, long lashes resting on his cheeks.

A timer in the kitchen goes off—the roast you’ve been cooking since the early morning hours. Excusing yourself, you disappear into the kitchen, pausing just beyond the doorway to press your chilly hands to your flushed cheeks.

Wine. You needed wine.

“So,” you begin once the three of you have sat down for dinner. “Fill us in, Johnny. What have you been up to?”

The unsaid words linger between you all, What have you been up to during the three years you left? Johnny gives a wane smile, and you think that maybe the time spent apart didn’t serve him nearly as well as he’d hoped it would—however he’d hoped it would. Simon sits at the head of the table, his ankle tangled against your own beneath the oak. It’s a comforting reminder of his presence, considering he lets you and Johnny do most of the talking for now.

“Whole lot o’ nothing,” Johnny says, sipping at the wine in his glass between sentences. “Traveled abroad fer a while. Spent some time in America, some time in South Korea.”

“Sounds like a nice place to meet people,” you say, aiming for subtlety the way a sledgehammer might. “I notice you didn’t take us up on our invitation and bring a lass with you.”

“No lass to bring, hen,” he says smoothly.

Simon’s ankle stirs against your own, some silent attempt at communication. When you glance over toward him, his eyes are on his plate, face stoic, revealing nothing.

“Any lads?” you guess.

Simon’s fork squeaks against his plate. Johnny stops eating. For a moment they both stare at you in shocked silence. Then a grin spreads over Johnny’s handsome face, blooming straight into laughter. He shakes his head, like you have said something very silly.

“No, no lads,” he says.

Simon’s ankle shifts again.

You reach for your glass of wine, face hot—

—and you don’t stop drinking.

Afternoon turns into evening, and by the time night falls, the three of you have drunk your way through three bottles of wine and successfully caught each other up on your lives to date. Simon and Johnny have slipped out onto the porch twice to smoke, bringing back in the scent of tobacco and snow, one you don’t mind at all. The fire in the fireplace burns low, crackling and spitting as the log splits. The room is strewn with torn gift wrapping. Simon has already unboxed the knife Johnny had made for him, testing its weight in his palm, testing the sharpness of the blade against the pad of his thumb. (Add that to the list of things which shouldn’t arouse you about Simon but do.)

It reminds you of the idyllic Christmases that you had reached for all your life and only ever skimmed with your fingers. You should have known that the missing piece was Johnny all along.

Wine drunk, you have kicked your feet up on Johnny’s lap at one end of the couch and curled your upper half on Simon’s lap at the other end. It is easy to fall asleep to the warm lull of their voices, swapping stories from their time in the military together.

But all at once, the subject matter changes, and it drags you from the threshold of sleep into some misty gray area in between a dream and wakefulness. Eyes still closed, you listen.

“I found you both, you know.” Johnny’s voice is barely more than a whisper, difficult to hear over the crackling fire.

“Don’t know what you mean, Johnny. We’re right here.”

“I found your videos.”

Your hands tighten into fists where you are clutching Simon’s shirt, eyes cracking open as you put the pieces together in your mind. But he’s smoother than you are, always able to keep a cool head. He sounds a little bored, a little confused as he asks: “What videos?”

“Never known you to play dumb LT. You know the ones I mean. The porn.”

A lengthy silence as Simon weighs his options and likely decides that there’s no use in lying. “You did, did you?”

“Aye.”

A pause.

“So that’s why you finally came back. Three fucking years she begs you to at least come for Christmas—who knew all it would take was a little pornography to put a fire under your arse.”

“That’s not—didn’t even find it until a few days ago, after I’d already said yes—“ Johnny says, voice rising in his defense.

“Careful. We don’t want to wake her up, do we?” Simon’s hand pets against your hair, softer than a kiss from the wind. Though he must know you’re awake, you’re grateful that he lets you pretend, lets you hide away while he handles this. “If she knew that you’d seen those videos, she’d be embarrassed. That would make me upset. You understand?”

“Aye,” he says, lowering his voice a little. He rests his hand against your ankle in his lap and then decides it’s not appropriate, shifts his hand back to his own thigh. You miss his touch. You’ve always missed Johnny’s touch more than you should miss the touch of your husband’s best friend. “But if you didn’t want people to see them, I don’t understand what you were thinkin’ posting them online.”

“Three guesses. No, go on. Never known you to be shy. Guess.”

Johnny wets his lips. “You didn’t think you’d be recognized.”

“There’s one.”

“You…you like it.”

“There’s two. Give us a third.”

“She likes it.”

You groan a little in embarrassment, turning your face away from where Johnny can see its profile, burying it in Simon’s lap. He’s hard, a fact you only realize when his jean-clad cock rubs against your cheek. You go still, eyes widening as this knowledge goes straight to the warmth that’s been stoked between your legs more often than the fireplace has tonight.

Simon’s hand finds the nape of your neck and rests there, keeping you still and quiet. It reminds you of your last video, when he had taken you from behind and put his hand on the nape of your neck to urge your face into the bed, his hips snapping against your ass. Where had the camera been, then? You couldn’t remember. That was Simon’s one rule, besides the masks and never saying each other’s names: don’t look into the camera.

“So what do you plan to do with this knowledge, Johnny?” Simon asks. You hold your breath, still feigning sleep. “Who do you plan to tell? You know I don’t have anyone left who would give a fuck, but I’m sure you could find someone for her—someone who could shame her and make her feel bad for trying to feel good. Is that what you want?”

“Fuck no. I’d not tell a soul,” says Johnny fiercely. His hand comes to rest on your ankle again. This time he leaves it, thumb brushing the bone. “I swear it.”

“Then why bring it up at all?”

“I…I don’t know,” Johnny admits, head ducking. “I just had to. Spending time with yeh both, knowing what I knew—it felt dishonest.”

Simon hums. “You know what I’d like to know?”

“What’s that?”

“What our single friend was doing looking at couples porn.”

The night ends quickly after that. Simon carries you to bed—the bed where you film so much of the porn that Johnny has apparently seen—and helps you begin undressing while Johnny gets his boots on in the other room.

“I’m so embarrassed,” you breathe, quiet so that Johnny could not overhear if he happened to be standing right outside the door. Your head is spinning, and only partly from all the wine. Your face burns. Your heart is beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Johnny has seen the videos, the ones you and Simon cheekily dub ‘home movies’! God, how you will ever face him again is beyond you.

“Give me the word and I’ll throw him out,” says Simon. “We’ll never see him again.”

That makes a sick feeling rise up in the back of your throat. You look up at Simon and take in the somber, angry-adjacent expression on his face, and you know that he is serious. Simon never says a word that he doesn’t mean. But you can hear what he didn’t say, the words unspoken: it would kill him to do it. All their years spent watching each other’s backs, it would be hard to stab Johnny’s and leave him in the cold. Especially after the bliss of just getting him back.

You don’t want that. Not for Simon, not for Johnny. Not even for you.

“I like Johnny,” you affirm. “I just don’t know how I’ll face him.”

“You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. He’s the pervert looking in through our window.”

“We’re the perverts fucking with the blinds wide open,” you remind him.

“I’ll see him out. Finish getting undressed,” he says, disappearing through the doorway. You hear the warm timber of his voice matched by Johnny’s and the sound of the front door opening. Two sets of boots crunch through snow, and now the voices are so far away that you can’t even make out their tone, much less their words.

Stripping the last of your clothes off, you roll onto your belly and bury your face in your pillow. Tonight had been going so well. It was hard to believe how far off course things had become. What was Johnny doing looking for couples porn anyhow?

You roll back over, staring into the darkness of the ceiling. The answer was simple: because it would get him off. It didn’t matter if it was tentacles to titjobs. He’d more than likely been looking up porn while he jerked off.

Had he realized right away that it was you and Simon and turned the video off in disgust? Or had it taken a moment for it to sink in? Had he cared at all?

Or had he jerked off instead? You realize you are rubbing your thighs together belatedly and force yourself into stillness.

The front door opens, Simon stomping inside and taking off his boots. When he joins you in bed, his cheeks are still cold, mouth minty from hastily brushing his teeth of tobacco and wine. You lean in and kiss him, looking for comfort. He kisses back, sweeping his tongue through your mouth, sucking on your lower lip.

“I’m not in the mood tonight,” you whisper when you both part, not necessarily out of truthfulness, but because you feel like you shouldn’t be in the mood.

“Wasn’t expecting anything.”

You lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heart. Your embarrassment is a little lessened now, abated by the calm that Simon exudes from his pores. It’s hard to believe that anything in the world could go wrong that Simon couldn’t handle with a twist of his hand or a few choice words. After a while, you glance up to find him still awake, staring into the darkness of the room. He meets your eyes and gives you one of his rare, wane smiles.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him.

After a moment of silence, he says: “Our next video.”

((AMATEUR COUPLE: WAKING UP MY WIFE WITH MORNING SEX. Soap knows that he shouldn’t click on the link. The first time was an honest mistake, but anything afterwards is intentional—and unforgivable. If Ghost were to find out…Soap doesn’t even want to think about it.

Except why would it be wrong for Soap to do it but right for a bunch of strangers?

He doesn’t need to look down to know his cock is hard. Against his better judgement—or any judgement at all, really—he clicks the link. The video starts with Ghost in the frame, completely naked. He’s seen LT naked often enough (it’s unavoidable in such close quarters as they have shared) but he’s never looked, not like this.

Time has barely changed him. He is still fitter than any man has the right to be, thick with muscles that are for functionality and not just for show—though the show is still impressive.

While he’d always known that Ghost would be a sight to behold, seeing it in this context cements a fact in his brain, one that had sent him running years prior: he’s attracted to his closest friend. All the bad flirting disguised as taking the piss back when they were in the 141—it wasn’t just taking the piss. Not for Soap, at least.

In the video, Ghost exits the frame and crosses to the other side of the bed. He’s not wearing a mask this time but the upper half of his face remains solidly out of frame until it is offscreen again. You are positioned closest to the camera, laying on your side facing the audience. Your face isn’t visible, but your breasts are once Ghost draws the blankets down, down, and then down far enough to reveal your closed thighs.

Fuck, Soap wants to see your cunt. He grips his cock tightly and squeezes, watching raptly as Ghost loops an arm over you and begins to softly tease your nipples. Soap slips a hand up his shirt and thumbs at a nipple of his own, wishing it was the other man’s touch. His cock leaks where it lies thickly against his belly as he watches his former lieutenant tease you, trace figures over your naked body, and at last slip a hand between your thighs, working one of your legs over back of his own. Now Soap can see just a trace of your slit, so soft. It makes his jaws ache, makes him want Ghost to hold your thighs apart so that he can lick and suck you into a frenzy.

He can tell the exact moment you wake. Your body stiffens, mouth falling open as Ghost sinks two of his fingers inside you. One of your hands reaches down to grip at your husband’s forearm as you scramble into wakefulness.

“Good morning,” Ghost says.))

The doorbell sounds, telling Simon that Johnny has arrived, but he lets his Sergeant wait out in the cold while the kettle finishes filling. A not-small part of him is still holding a grudge against Johnny for making you so embarrassed. It had taken time for you to come into your own. Courage. The videos had been your idea, whispered in the heat of the moment beneath the cover of darkness—but with time you’d been bold enough to talk about them over dinner. To read the comments with him and laugh. To watch the videos and end up in bed all over again.

Now he could see the hesitation in your eyes whenever he pulled out his phone.

Johnny’s expression is its typical one, open, friendly, when Simon opens the door. When he sees Simon, those blue eyes grow wide before he can curb the reaction. Johnny swallows, throat bobbing.

“Hey LT. Lookit you. Laswell really has yeh behind a desk now doesn’t she?” Johnny’s hand reached out like he’s going to touch the tie that still dangles from around Simon’s neck, but he thinks better of it.

Just another hunch of Simon’s proven right.

“What part of no field work confused you?” Simon asks, stepping aside to let Johnny in.

“No confusion. Just didn’t expect yeh to look so…” He trails off, eyes flittering over Simon from his combed hair to his dress shirt stretched tight across his chest to the dress slacks that cling to his thighs. “…fancy.”

“I don’t wear the tie for Laswell’s benefit. But you already knew that.”

Johnny flushes, as good an admission as any. Wisely, he says nothing, following Simon into the kitchen and taking an offered seat at the kitchen island. His eyes flicker around the room, similar to how they had on Christmas. Then, Simon had mistaken it for Johnny taking in the way things had changed—the wallpaper is new, as is the backsplash behind the oven and stove, there are new pictures on the refrigerator—but now Simon suspects that Johnny is remembering. Piecing together backdrops he has seen in their videos.

“The missus home?” Johnny asks, drumming his fingers on the granite.

“No. Work.”

Simon pours tea for two, even though Johnny hates tea, and slides it across the countertop to him. To his benefit, Johnny accepts it without complaint, warming his hands around the mug.

“I told her.”

Johnny doesn’t need to ask what or who—they’ve both been thinking about it since the moment he walked in. Simon watches as his face twists with naked regret. It tells Simon that Johnny really didn’t know that you were only feigning sleep on Christmas.

“Is she angry with me?”

“Embarrassed.”

Johnny looks outraged on your behalf. “She has no reason t’ be!”

Simon shrugs as if to say, This is what your curiosity bought her, Johnny. This is the price she’s paying. Johnny’s shoulders sag under the weight of his own guilt, elbows bracing themselves on the countertop so that he can put his face in his hands.

“Maybe,” says Simon, “it would make more of a difference if she heard it from you.”

Johnny looks up, brow furrowed. “Heard what from me? That I’ve seen her—like that?”

Simon’s eyes roll to the ceiling. “No. That she doesn’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

Johnny turns the idea over in his head. He’s clever, but too blinded by his own desire to see the manipulation for what it is. What does it matter if it’s Simon’s idea or his own? Johnny is dying to talk to you.

“You’d give me her number?”

Simon shrugs.

“Alright,” says Johnny at length, drawing the word out. “I can do that. If you think it will help.”

Simon says nothing, sipping at his tea to hide any smugness behind his cup.

((The video begins in a kitchen, one Johnny has been in many times. You are there, back mostly to the camera, pressed against the granite island countertop. Simon is on the other side of you, consuming all your attention. Steaming Jesus, he’s huge compared to you, huge compared to everyone. He’s dressed in his work attire: dress clothes, dark tie in place. The effect is jarring in contrast with the mask.

Simon reaches up and works his tie loose and off over his head. You tilt your head down a little and on it goes, easy as anything. When Simon turns you to face the camera, the tie dangles between your bare breasts. One hand on the nape of your neck, Simon bends you forward towards the granite and Soap can tell the exact moment his cock slips inside you based on the way your mouth falls open, your eyes squeezing shut behind your own mask.

Soap isn’t sure who he’s jealous of more—you or Simon.))

Simon told me that he told you what I found. I just wanted to message you myself and say how sorry I am if I embarrassed you.

You sigh reading over the text message. Flexing your fingers, you give a quick glance toward where Simon lays dozing with his head against the back of the couch, feet up on the coffee table (the knife he got for Christmas rests on his chest; he’d been toying with it absently for the last half hour) and answer: There’s no reason to apologize. It’s not your fault I’m embarrassed.

It is though, isn’t it? You don’t care that other people see. You just care that I did.

You pause and bite at your nails, thinking over his words and how to respond. He’s mostly right. There had been an aspect of embarrassment at first when you and Simon began posting the videos (and that embarrassment had gotten you off to a certain extent, though it didn’t usually). But eventually that heated shame had melted away into eagerness for the camera. You’d read the comments on the videos, countless human beings talking about the various ways they masturbate to your sex with Simon, talking about the things they wish they could do to you, with you, with Simon.

So why was it so much more embarrassing knowing that Johnny had seen? Because he knew you. Because he’d seen the parts of you that you had purposefully covered up for the camera. No one was meant to see both sides—no one was meant to have all of you. Except for Simon.

But if somebody was going to do it, a small part of you is glad it was Johnny.

You’re Simon’s friend, you message back, curious. Didn’t it feel strange to see us like that?

Honestly? He doesn’t wait for you to respond. Not as strange as I might have thought.

((AMATEUR COUPLE: WIFE PRACTICES HER BLOWJOB SKILLS, the video is aptly titled. You are on your knees, hands tied neatly at the base of your spine. Simon sits at the edge of the bed, camera positioned perpendicular to you both, with a downward angle.

You lean forward and let his hard, flushed cock disappear past your lips deeper, deeper, until you reach the limits of what you can take without preparation or practice. His hand comes down to rest softly against the back of your head as you make yourself gag and choke around the thickest part of his cock. There’s no need to hold you down; Simon doesn’t even bother.

Soap’s jaw aches, desperate for a chance to be on his knees for Ghost like that. He could take more than you—he knows he could. Not that it had to be a competition, not when you both could share a cock that size and barely notice the other was there. He strips his own cock thinking about it, eyes falling shut as he lets the background noise of the video—Simon’s gentle praises, your whines and chokes, the wet gurgles of a throat being fucked—carry him over the edge.))

New Year’s Eve.

The house is full of bodies and laughter. You feel near-delirious with your own joy, never made happier than by the happiness of the people around you. Alejandro and Rodolfo had flown in and were staying in the guest house through the New Year, arriving only yesterday with enough luggage for four between the two of them; Kyle and his girlfriend; John and his wife; Kate and her partner; even Farah and her brother had made a pit stop to spend the evening with you on their way back to Urzikstan from the Americas.

The party had been BYOB, and everyone had taken to the sentiment and more. Farrah is mixing drinks in the kitchen, strong concoctions that even John struggles to keep down. Gaz and Alejandro keep insisting on shots (which you politely decline just as often as you agree. Simon drinks nothing, his tumultuous past putting him off of hard alcohol for good).

People are well and truly drunk by the time Johnny arrives. The whoops and hollers that fill the house have you thinking that midnight has come early. A swarm of bodies surround him, and he is forced to make the rounds hugging each person and being taken to task by them for being gone for so goddamn long.

He arrives at you before Simon, and his face softens, smile going a little unsure around the edges as he opens his arms for you, the first time he’s seen you in person since Christmas. You could rebuff him, but you also can’t. It’s Johnny. Nearly tripping to toss yourself into his arms, he lifts you a few inches off the floor, nose buried in your hair.

“Bonnie as always,” he whispers into your ear after putting you back down. His hand tugs teasingly on the short hem of your dress, like he is trying to lengthen it, knuckles brushing your thighs. You swat his hand away, face flushing with warmth. It wasn’t that short.

“Johnny,” Simon calls. The two men embrace, hug lasting longer than any other. In the distance, you see Gaz elbow Price, jerking his head toward the two men.

You put a hand on Simon’s shoulder, anxious suddenly. Simon draws back, clapping Johnny on the shoulder. He orders: “Get yourself a drink.”

“Yessir.”

“None of that.”

“Games? I was told there would be games,” Gaz says, situating himself between you and Simon. He’s dressed smartly in a dress-shirt with the collar undone. Someone has put a party hat on him, cone-shaped, to celebrate the New Year. You had managed to wrestle Simon into one for thirty seconds before the first of the company arrived; the memory makes you smile.

“I have Cards Against Humanity,” you offer.

“Oh, I love that game,” Kyle’s girlfriend says to your delight.

“No—no—we aren’t in middle school here,” Johnny says. “And if we are, then I want to play truth or dare so my chances of getting kissed tonight rises exponentially.”

“Come over here and they will,” Gaz offers.

“Don’t make promises you’re not ready to keep, Garrick,” Johnny warns, grinning.

“Sounds like something a coward would say, all due respect—”

Then Johnny has a fistful of Kyle’s shirt, hauling him in for a bold though chaste kiss on the mouth. You are suddenly hyper aware of Simon beside you, standing tall and very still while everyone laughs and cheers at the men’s antics. You can’t deny it’s a pleasing sight, but a part of you feels irritated with the whole display.

“Jesus Christ,” John sighs, tipping his hat back on his head. “Soap’s right—if you’ve got a normal deck of cards, love, I know plenty of games for adults to play.”

“Not sure I want to play those kinds of games with you, John,” Kate says somberly to the laughs of everyone around her.

“We’ve got cards,” Simon mutters.

Farah calls to you from the kitchen, asking you to try her latest conglomeration of alcohol. Eager to be anywhere but there, you escape to the kitchen. You lift yourself up onto one of the stools at the island, taking the red plastic cup from her hand and sniffing it. Just the smell burns the hairs of your nose.

“Jesus, Farah, this could kill me,” you laugh.

“Pathetic,” she says with a grin to lighten her words. “I think I saw some apple juice in the refrigerator, would you like that instead?”

“Alright.”

“A warm glass of milk, perhaps?”

“You’ve made your point,” you say, eyes narrowing in good humor. Taking a deep breath to steel your nerves (and stomach), you take a generous swig of the cup. Fuck, it burns going down and it burns in your belly, like swallowing a lit flame. You cough a little, trying not to gag, and hold up your thumb to her. “It’s great—so good—“

Simon comes to sit beside you at the island. He takes the cup, smells it, and raises both brows.

“Can I tempt you, Lieutenant?” Farah asks.

“No.”

“Then I won’t try. Where’s John, he’s never afraid of a challenge.”

Unseen to her beneath the island, fingertips brush your stocking-covered thighs. Your knees clamp together on instinct as you fight not to look over at Simon. What is he doing?

He strikes up a conversation with Farah about her time spent in the Americas. When his hand doesn’t move, your thighs relax a little. He was just being intimate; often he liked to have a hand on your back or his foot resting against your own beneath the table. It wasn’t his fault you were on edge. Your head spins a little, thanks to the shots and Farah’s drink. Planting one elbow on the countertop, you try to focus on her stories when Simon’s hand moves again, slipping further between your legs. The hem of your dress has ridden up so high in your seated position that it doesn’t take much for his fingertips to graze against the heated seam between your legs.

You clamp your knees shut again. He pinches your thigh softly, just enough to get the message through to you. Staring at Farah, hearing nothing, you spread your shaking knees again and let him cup you between your legs. Fuck. You tilt your hips, making as if to adjust your position on the chair. It only serves to bring you in closer contact with Simon’s hand. A groan is born and dies in the back of your throat.

He keeps you there, holding your cunt, having a fluent conversation with Farah while your brain melts out your ears. At length, he stands. Leaning down, he says in your ear: “Outside, two minutes. Go out the back.”

Then he disappears amongst the sea of people

Three minutes later you are shivering out in the snow. Your coat only helps so much with your legs bare save for your stockings. You hadn’t even had time to lace up your boots. Shifting from one foot to the other in the spotlight of the floodlights to keep warm, you cast glances left and right wondering from which direction Simon will come, wondering what he wants that couldn’t have taken place in doors.

At last he appears, looking far warmer than you in his olive green jacket and jeans, hands stuffed deep into his pockets. You smile at the sight of him. He doesn’t smile back.

“Put your hands against the wall.”

“Simon?”

He sighs, running a hand over the curve of your waist, testing its fit in his palm. “Now I’ll have to edit that part out. Let’s try again. Put your hands on the wall.”

You see then the phone placed just-so in the breast pocket of his coat. The glossy camera lens stares back at you, no flashing red light, nothing nearly so 1999. But you knew it was filming. What was it seeing now? The house in the background, the cool blue siding and brick. You, face surprised, lips chapped from the cold weather lately, your sexy little golden dress nearly obscured beneath your coat.

“The time to back out is now,” Simon prods you.

But there’s no way you’re backing out, not after the kitchen. Not after the hazy arousal you’ve been walking around in all night just at the thought of seeing Johnny again. Turning around, you reach out with shaking hands and place them against the freezing cold siding. You can see your breath like a smoky plume with each of your frantic exhales as Simon’s hands grip your ass, slipping beneath the hem of your dress and finding your stockings to tug them down around your knees.

“Got to keep quiet for me,” he says. “Can you do that?”

“Yessir,” you whisper, wishing you were close enough to the house to rest your heated cheek against it.

Simon gives a heavy exhale at your words and you grin, unseen.

Your panties join your stockings stuck around your knees. It doesn’t give you much space to spread your legs, but Simon is so lengthy that he doesn’t need the extra room. He doesn’t press against your back, ever-conscious of the camera and its angles, but you hear the sound of his belt being undone and like a Pavlovian response, it has you drooling between the legs. His cock is burning warm when it brushes against your ass, and you find yourself arching your back, seeking to put that heat inside you.

He hums, hands spreading you wide as he can for the benefit of the camera, even if the lighting isn’t the best to see your entrance.

“Pretty fucking girl,” he mutters. The position can’t be comfortable for him, but he’s never seemed to care about that. He reaches down to grip the base of his cock and guides the head inside you. It is a tight fit without any preparation, but he keeps the penetration shallow, rocking you back and forth on just the head, sometimes letting his cock slip free to brush against your aching clit. Your teeth clamp together, desperate to keep your sounds in—usually during home videos, Simon encouraged you to be noisy (“for the audience”). Now you found yourself struggling not to give in to the old habit.

All of the sudden, his hand is in your hair, turning your head, guiding it to change directions until you are looking at your footsteps in the snow leading back the way you came—

Until you are looking squarely at Johnny, standing nearly frozen in the snow at the edge of the house. He’s wearing his coat and boots, hands jammed deep into his coat pockets. The darkness makes it hard to make out the subtlety of his features, but you can tell that his mouth is dropped open in an expression of near comical disbelief.

You barely manage to keep from choking out Simon’s name, your entire body going stiff—your cunt rippling around his cock. He laughs, a low rumbling chuckle that has you squeezing your eyes shut. A whine slips free from your throat and the wind must carry it straight to Johnny, because you hear his quiet, Steamin’ Jesus.

“He’s been waiting for this all night, I bet,” Simon mutters, his hips snapping against yours. Your hands scramble to find purchase against the siding, slip down a little to grip the bricks which offer you more resistance. “Watching you flit back and forth in this dress, knowing what you look like underneath it. He wishes it was him fucking you right now.”

“No,” you gasp, scandalized.

Simon just laughs again. The sound doesn’t embarrass you, just ratchets your own dizzying arousal higher. You can’t take your eyes off of Johnny, who has stumbled two or three steps closer in the snow and now has his hand against the house very similarly to you. His other hand is in a fist at his side. Closer like this, there’s no mistaking the heated expression in his eyes. Nor the bulge in his pants.

“Oh God,” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut again and turning away.

“Look at him—look at him. He wants to touch himself,” Simon says, borderline conversational as his dick makes the most heinous squelching noises inside your body. “But I don’t think he’s got the balls.”

One of your hands comes off the bricks and reaches down between your thighs—but Simon grabs it at the last moment and pins it back in its place, sending you nearly to tears.

“Cum on my cock or don’t cum at all,” he says, feeling cruel.

The both of you know that that likely means you won’t cum at all, not like this, and the knowledge threatens to undo you. He’s going to get you three-fourths of the way there and then leave you like this, edge you in front of all of your closest friends and not satisfy you until the very last one has left. Tears well in your eyes, beading up at the corners.

Behind you, his thrusts grow sloppy. You dare another glance towards Johnny and see his turned back, both his hands in his mohawk gripping at his hair like he is fighting with himself. Your eyes fall shut; you’re fighting a battle of your own, you can’t be concerned about his. Simon groans lowly, filling you with his seed. He pulls out in a wet rush of fluids, reaching down to stave off his dripping seed and save your leggings from destruction.

Gently, he fucks his cum back into you with his fingers. He wipes it across your swollen folds and in the soaked crotch of your panties before pulling them back up to rest safely on your hips. Bending down, he wipes his hands clean in the snow and then on his jacket before helping you pull your stockings up into place. The tears in your eyes have overflowed by now, dripping down your cheeks and off your chin. When you glance over, Johnny is gone.

“Okay?” Simon murmurs, fiddling with his phone. He stops the video.

“Yeah,” you sigh shakily. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Moments to midnight and you are searching for Simon. His figure should be easy to spot, but his head isn’t visible above the sea of people, nor is his baritone voice audible amongst the cacophony of others.

Someone else is notably missing as well. An itch in the back of your brain swells, one you have to follow to scratch.

Countdowns begin. You peek out the window nearest to you but see no sign of either man outside in the snow smoking. Watching couples pair off, you pad on bare feet (having kicked off your heels ages ago) toward the master bedroom, slipping into the dim hallway that forks off to the bedroom, the guest bath, and the office. That hallway is where you find them, standing in the dark toe to toe. Simon has Johnny up against the wall, clutching fistfuls of Johnny’s shirt, nearly tearing it. In the dim lighting, you can barely make out their features.

For a moment, you think they are about to come to blows. You are ready to step between them, to take either of them by the ear like an old school matriarch and remind them that they are friends and they love each other and this is no way to act amongst family—but then the others cry out for midnight and they kiss.

Oh God, do they kiss. Johnny’s shirt strains in Simon’s hands as he lifts the other man the last few inches needed to slot their mouths together comfortably. There is no chaste peck, no soft exploration of tongues, it is a frenzied open-mouthed devouring of each other, jaws flexing as if to open up and swallow the other whole.

Claps and cheers ring out in the living room, jolting Simon and Johnny apart. Before you can even string together a sentence, Johnny has brushed by you, one hand pressing at his mouth. He grabs his coat and leaves out the front door without so much as a goodbye to anyone.

The party is over. The sun is rising. Alejandro and Rodolfo have retired out to the guest house leaving you and Simon behind to clean up the mess in more ways than one. Eyes tired but brain buzzing, you come into the living room with a half-filled trash bag in your arms to find Simon sitting on the sofa by the fireplace, his head in his hands.

You drop the trash bag and go to him, climbing into his lap. He sighs and lets his head rest against your breasts, breaths slow and deep, not betraying any of the turmoil that might be going on in his mind.

“He’ll be back,” you promise, stroking your fingers through his cropped hair. “He’ll come back, baby.”

You don’t know what you’ll do if he doesn’t.

“Have you two done that before?” you ask.

Simon shifts. He turns until his ear presses against your sternum, like he is listening to your heart for the answer. He says: “No. Once—almost, I think. But you know what he’s like. So fucking persistent. And bright. Like he’s got the bloody sun inside him.”

“You never told me.”

“Wasn’t anything to tell.” He looks up at you with dark eyes, decidedly grim despite his words: “We doing this?”

“Seems so,” you say, scratching his scalp lightly with your nails just to watch how his eyes get heavy. Simon so often denies himself simple pleasures, but he deserves them. The simple ones and the complicated ones.

“He belongs to me,” Simon says at length, slow, like he is working it out for himself. “Just like you do.”

“No baby,” you remind him, leaning down to press a kiss to his mouth. “He belongs to us.”

((It becomes a degenerate ritual.

Soap gets home from work and showers. As soon as the steam hits the bathroom mirror, he’s hard, but he doesn’t touch himself; refuses to. He showers and cleans himself perfunctorily, cock aching. It is just as familiar with this ritual as he is, just as hungry for it. It knows what is coming.

After he is clean and dry, he’ll go naked into his room and bring out his laptop. He always sits at his desk—hates having the laptop on his lap, wants it somewhere stable and safe so he can have both hands free to touch himself—and then he brings up your porn page with Simon. There are more than fifty videos he can choose from. Some he has only seen once, especially those early videos when you both were still getting a feel for the process and working out your nerves. There are others that are old favorites, ones that he knows every word to, one where he could mimic your every sigh and whine if he wanted to.

And sometimes, like on nights such as this, there’s a new video. His heart jumps to his throat.

AMATEUR COUPLE: ARGUMENT TURNS INTO SEX (NO AUDIO). Fuck, just the title has mind whirling. It was just for show, surely—he couldn’t imagine you both filming one of your actual arguments for the sake of good pornography—but he was intrigued nonetheless. Some of his favorite videos featured Ghost getting a little rougher with you, and you giving back as good as you got.

He clicks the link. The video begins in the bedroom, recognizable to him now as your own. The camera is in the corner facing the bed at an angle giving a wide vantage point, like a voyeur standing at attention. Like Soap himself has snuck in and is watching. Just the thought has him gripping the base of his cock, a soft groan passing his lips.

You’re sitting on the bed, mask in place. Your arms are crossed, mouth downturned into a frown as Simon enters the screen. The first minute or so truly looks like an argument, the occasional jerky hand gesture from you coupled with Simon’s clipped responses. Soap tries to read your lips, but he’s never been very good at it; he can’t make out a single word of what the two of you might be saying. Then the aura changes, the tense energy from the argument turning into something slicker, something sexual as Simon comes around the bed and puts his hand on the center of your naked chest, pressing you back, back until you are laying down.

You fight against him, batting his hand out of the way. He pins you down easily, so much larger and stronger than you. Soap grips his cock at the thought of being in your place, being pinned to the bed with Ghost’s massive figure over him. Ghost wouldn’t need to be gentle with him either, not the way he was with you. Soap wouldn’t mind. Soap would like it, the same way he liked it in the hallway at your house when Simon gripped him by the shirt and nearly jerked him right out of his boots.

Your head comes off the bed, mouth chasing Ghost’s—but he draws away. Soap can almost hear the laugh he clearly gives, the rumbling chuckle that would be tangible in his chest. You grit your teeth together, jaw tight. Now when Simon bends down to kiss you, you turn your head away, a childish game of cat and mouse. He grips your chin and turns it back toward him, heavy on the eye contact. When you two finally kiss, it is rough, two hungry people searching for dirty secrets behind each other's teeth.

Ghost kisses his way down your body, sucking bruises wherever he can. By the time he’s in between your legs, you are writhing, hands gripping his hair and trying to guide his mouth to the place that needs it most. He tugs your thighs over his shoulders, pins you to the bed with one massive forearm, and eats you out like a starving man. The angle for the camera isn’t the best here, but Soap can’t take his eyes off of you anyway: your body tight as a bowstring, breasts pressed together from the position of your arms, tendons of your neck straining as your head tilts backwards.

Soap begins to work his cock over faster, watching your pleasure. When Ghost stops, he leaves you on the edge if your tortured expression is anything to go by, but you let him maneuver you into the position he wants—hands and knees, an old favorite for LT it seems—but this time is special, because this time you are forced to face the camera dead on.

It’s like you’re looking Soap in the eye. The brief flash of guilt this gives him only serves to ratchet his desire higher, his cock dripping precum over his knuckles as he fists it. Ghost slips his cock inside you and sets a brutal pace that you are eager to meet, your hands twisting in the bedspread as you press yourself further back against his cock.

Ghost leans down and mutters something in your ear. More than ever, Soap misses the audio. Whatever he says has your eyes flashing to meet the camera lens, and you do so with near girlish shyness, like you are seeing it for the first time, like you have only just noticed it’s been there all these months. Your eyes can’t catch on it at first, flittering away every chance you get. Ghost’s thrusts slow to deep grinds. He wraps a hand around your throat and says more, lips moving against the nape of your neck. Fuck, what Johnny wouldn’t give to be able to read lips.

This time you look back at the camera and keep your eyes there. Ghost resumes his thrusts, each one making your breasts bounce softly, but your eyes never leave the lens, always quick to return even when they briefly fall shut.

Your pleasure waxes when you slip a hand between your thighs, and you begin murmuring something repeatedly, just a discrete little movement of your lips. But at Ghost’s prodding, you begin to cry it out louder and louder until Soap is damn near sure that you are screaming, your lips forming the same syllables over and over again if only Soap were able to make them out. Your eyes roll back as you cum, arms growing weak until you dip and rest your upper body against the bed giving the camera an excellent view of Simon fucking into you from behind, the arch of your body, the curve of your waist to the width of your hips.

Soap cums when Ghost does, Ghost’s head lolling to the side as his thrusts grow sloppy and forceful, making a mess of you no doubt.

It isn’t until later when he’s in bed that he recognizes the word you were chanting for what it is.

How it took him so long to recognize his own name he’ll never know.))

He comes back.

Simon has just returned from taking Alejandro and Rodolfo to the airport. Ever since New Year’s Eve, there has been a quietness about him which breaks prior records. Neither of you say it, but if Johnny leaves this time, it will take more out of him than it had before. It will take something out of you, too. You spend the days trying to keep busy, checking your phone too often for texts that don’t come.

You’ve just taken the kettle off the stove when the doorbell rings, and both of you know. Your eyes meet across the kitchen. Simon nods his head toward the door, and you rush to answer it, feeling your heart in your throat. Johnny stands there on the step looking sheepish and cold, his boots and the bottom quarter of his jeans wet, like he has walked here from a great distance.

“May I come in?” he asks.

Simon appears behind you. Johnny gives him a wavering smile. Without a word, you hold the door open, stepping aside to let him in.

“Didn’t think you’d be back,” Simon says coolly.

“Didn’t think I’d be back either,” Johnny admits. He wets his lips. “I…I need to come clean. It’s eatin’ me up inside. Can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t fucking think without it being about the two of you. I don’t know what to do with myself except put myself at your feet and ask fer your forgiveness.”

“Johnny, that’s not—”

“No,” says Simon, stilling the words on your tongue. “I think that’s a good place to start. Get on your knees, Johnny.”

Johnny blinks once, face the picture of innocent ignorance—but then he is dropping to his knees hard enough for you to hear them crack against the hardwood underneath. He obeys without thinking, because that is something that has always been easy for him to do: obey Simon. Think later.

Simon’s hand reaches out, slow enough to give Johnny a chance to flinch away, but he doesn’t. Instead Simon threads his fingers through Johnny’s mohawk, the sides which are growing out just a little too long. Johnny’s eyes fall shut at the touch, and the whole thing goes straight to your belly, arousal making your head light.

“You liked watching so much,” Simon says, voice low and quiet. “I think it’s time we put you to good use.”

“We have rules. Don’t look at the camera, don’t say each other’s names, and do as I say. Can you handle that?” Simon asks.

“Rules of engagement. Yessir.”

Simon snorts softly at Johnny’s eagerness. “Glad to see you still know to follow directions. But let’s see how well. Strip. Everything off. You won’t need it.”

Johnny’s hands find the neckline of his shirt and tug it off over his head, revealing a body that is all smooth muscle and tan skin. The dark hair on his chest thickens just below his navel, trailing down into his jeans which he unbuttons without ceremony, feet working to step out of his shoes at the same time. He keeps his balance well, already slipping into a focused, strangely familiar headspace. You make yourself as small as possible on the bed, arms looped around your legs, eyes watching him hungrily. It’s been so long that you’ve wanted to see Johnny like this; now that it’s on the verge of becoming true, you feel shy and unsure.

Johnny keeps his eyes on yours while he pushes his pants down his thighs and steps out of them. He smiles at you, soft and understanding, and only then do you let your eyes flicker down to take in his cock: he is hard, uncut, thick as Simon even if he can’t have him beaten in length. His dexterous fingers wrap around the shaft, stroking himself, the flushed head disappearing and reappearing in his fist.

“What do you think?” Simon asks you, voice a low rumble at your side. His eyes are watching you, concerned with you first and foremost. “Is he pretty enough?”

Johnny makes an offended sound.

“I’d say so,” you answer, aiming for unaffected and landing somewhere amongst breathless. Already you can feel the tension between your legs, a deep seated ache as your pussy drools onto the sheets below you.

“You want to suck his cock,” says Simon. It’s not a question, but your head bobs anyway. “Go on, then. Crawl to him.”

Shifting onto your hands and knees, you crawl to him, focusing on the mechanics of it instead of trying to feign sexiness. At the edge of the bed, you slip off and down to the floor amongst the pile of his clothes, laying your hands on his thighs and looking up at him from beneath his cock.

He lets out a shaky breath. “You’re gonna suck my dick?”

You nod.

Johnny looks to Simon with a helpless expression as if to ask, What do I do? When you glance back over your shoulder, you see that Simon is giving him nothing to work with, face a blank slate except for his raised brows. Phone in hand, aimed at the two of you. The sight of it seems to steel Johnny’s nerves. He’s never been one to be shy.

“Go at yer own pace, lass,” he says.

Leaning in, you trace your lips against the side of his shaft, feeling the velvety softness against your mouth. He smells like he showered before he came over, though you wouldn’t have minded if he hadn’t. Johnny always smells good—even on those days before he went away when he and Simon would go running together, pushing each other to their limits, returning sweaty and exhausted. Now after all this time you get to see if he tastes as good as he smells. You part your lips and leave open mouthed kisses along his length, looking up at him through your lashes when you feel his fingers sink into your hair. His mouth is parted as he watches you raptly, pupils blown wide.

Confidence mounting, you take the head past your lips and suckle, treating him just as soft and sweetly as you know Simon won’t. Above you, he groans, hips jerking until you take another inch or two past your lips. You let him, rising up on your knees to adjust the angle, sinking your way down until his head brushes the softness at the back of your throat. Taking a calming inhale, you swallow and press forward, letting him sink into your throat until your gag reflex can take no more and forces him out.

Johnny moans like he’s dying, his hands shaking as he fights not to thrust into your throat. Words stream from his mouth, filthy Scottish-tinted praises that have you wriggling in your place, desperate for a hand between your thighs.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Simon asks.

“Never seen no one like her,” Johnny gasps, one hand letting go of your hair so that he can wipe the drool from the side of your mouth. He gives a weak laugh. “And I—fuuck, fuck—I’ve looked.”

“She’ll suck you off until you tell her to stop. Doesn’t matter how long you leave her at it,” Simon says. Fabric rustles behind you, and you ache to be able to turn and see what he is doing. But you are more determined to prove your goodness to Johnny. “Sometimes when I work from home she keeps my cock warm at my desk.”

“Dunno how you get a goddamn thing done with her mouth around yeh.”

“Discipline.”

“I left mine in my other pants—fuck, I’m gonna cum. Are you one of those dirty girls that swallows?” he asks.

You nod. Simon is there suddenly, a warm presence at your shoulder as he passes Johnny the camera. Nearly wrecked, Johnny’s hands shake as he aims it down at you, looking at you through the lens. His balls draw up, cock lengthening that last little bit as he spills into your mouth.

“Don’t swallow,” Simon says at the last moment. You whine but obey. Simon pulls you up and nearly makes you dizzy with the way he kisses you, licks into your open mouth lapping Johnny’s seed from your tongue.

“Jesus, Mary, ‘n Joseph,” Johnny breathes, belatedly remembering to turn the camera onto you both. This will likely be the messiest video you’ve ever made transition wise, but you have a feeling that it will be your favorite.

When the kiss ends, you swallow and pull off to open your mouth, showing Johnny—and the audience—what they want: that you’ve swallowed your portion like a good girl.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t have cum,” Johnny laughs weakly. “We’ve barely started. I don’t want this to be over.”

“You’ll cum again,” Simon says. “But it’s time to give someone else a turn. Sitrep?”

Johnny is all grins. “All good here, sir.”

It makes you shiver to hear Johnny call him that. You’ve heard it countless times before, but never like this. The context turns the word into something foreign, something sexy. Not to mention, you know exactly what it does to Simon. Not for the first time, you wonder if his wires didn’t get a little crossed during his time enlisted, if he didn’t learn that particular kink from hearing Johnny chirp it at him every day.

“Good boy,” says Simon softly, reaching out to ruffle Johnny’s mohawk. Johnny bats his hand away, but it’s impossible to miss the way he flushes from the cheeks down his chest at those words. Simon sets the phone on the tripod in the corner, making minor adjustments, and then turns his eyes to you. “C’mere.”

He sets you up against the headboard, your back against his chest. He parts your thighs, reaching down to use his thumbs to spread your sex open for Johnny’s hungry gaze, for the camera’s lens. You hide your masked-face behind your hands, hips rising toward his touch, desperate for the stimulation.

“Pent up?” Simon asks, voice rough.

A sound slips past your lips, low and needy..

“This what you want?” His calloused fingers ghost over your swollen clit.

“Yes,” you mumble, voice muffled by your hands.

“Be a good girl and you’ll get it. You know how to be a good girl?”

“How?”

“Stay relaxed. Keep your thighs open. And don’t lie to me. Can you do that?”

You nod. Yes. Easy things. You fight to relax your body, loosening your muscles. Your hands fall to rest against Simon’s thighs, eyes cracking open to watch Johnny who has seated himself at the end of the bed out of the way of the camera’s view. When he sees you looking, he smiles, reassuring and warm. His cock, which had been soft moments ago, already looks noticeably more interested in the events taking place.

Simon drags his fingers over your clit. You tense all over, sucking in a breath before you remember his first rule and relax, going loose and soft again. He waits, patient. The next time he strokes you, you stay malleable, and he hums deep in his chest, pleased with the progress. His hand cups your whole sex, palm huge compared to you.

“When was the first time you ever wanted to fuck our boy over here?” Simon asks.

You know that he can’t use Johnny’s name, not on film, but neither you nor Johnny had expected the flashbang of this term of endearment. Johnny seems to melt, his eyes going heavy-lidded at the thought of being ‘your boy’. You can’t help but feel the incredible rightness of his words. They resonate deep in your chest like the ringing of a bell, tangible down to your fingertips and toes. Johnny is yours, and he is Simon’s.

“How long?” Simon asks again, more firmly.

“Since—since you brought him home.”

Simon slips two fingers past your entrance as a reward for your honesty. Their thickness has you gasping, fingers scrambling for purchase against his thighs. He hums something in your ear—probably a reminder about trying to relax—and you do try, but it is hard when you ache as badly as you do. You find yourself digging your heels into the bedspread, lifting your hips to try and work his fingers deeper inside of you. He feeds them to your cunt all the way to the last knuckle.

“How’s she feel, sir?” Johnny asks.

“Like the only heaven the likes of us will ever know.”

“I believe it,” Johnny sighs. “Give us a taste.”

Simon extends his fingers and Johnny takes them onto his tongue, licking and sucking the digits clean. You’re close enough to Simon to feel his inhale, to feel the way his cock jumps where it’s pressed against your lower back. He plays at being unaffected, but Simon isn’t immune to the powers of finger-sucking. He isn’t immune to Johnny.

Then he says: “Put that mouth to work, Johnny.”

Johnny drops to his belly between your thighs, breath fanning across your folds. Simon has to pin your legs apart, humming when your nails dig into the skin of his forearms. They are teaming up on you, against you, and you feel so small pinned between them.

“Dreamed of this,” Johnny sighs into your pussy. He nuzzles against you, nose brushing your slit before licking a thick stripe up your folds. He laps at the honey leaking from your entrance, broad strokes of his tongue as Simon’s fingers keep you spread open for his hungry mouth.

Sometimes Johnny’s tongue laps over Simon’s fingers, and when it does, you feel his cock twitch against your back. It only serves to remind you how empty you feel. Your hands grip Johnny’s hair, guiding his soft mouth to your clit where he sucks and laps contentedly, and you beg for his fingers.

He moans against you, voice vibrating through your pussy. His hips have started a slow grind against the bedspread, desperate for friction as his blue eyes find Simon’s dark ones, silently asking for permission.

Simon nods. Johnny slips his middle-most two fingers into you, hooking them softly, searching for that spongy, textured place just inside you. It’s everything you needed, the pleasure in your belly rising to a near painful crest. Your hand scrambles to find one of Simon’s, lacing your fingers together as you burst against Johnny’s tongue, squeezing his fingers, barely remembering to keep from calling his name.

Johnny lays his head against your inner thigh, panting. His eyes are foggy, pussy-drunk as he struggles to focus on you both, his fingers still tucked softly inside you.

“Break,” Simon whispers, kissing your neck. He shifts out from behind you, the only one of you still fully dressed. Going to the tripod in the corner, he pauses the camera and then leaves the room.

“Great abrupt bastard, isn’t he?” Johnny asks, slipping his fingers out from inside you. He goes to lick them clean, but you stop him, bringing his hand to your own mouth and cleaning your slick from his fingers, tongue searching for your taste all the way to the webbing between his knuckles. His laugh is breathy. “You like that? Like the taste of pussy?”

You nod, slipping your mask off briefly.

“Need a pretty girl to play with then, not the likes of me.”

Your hand latches around his wrist as he goes to pull away, lips turning down into a frown. “That’s not what we want. We don’t play with people. People aren’t toys to us. And we’ve never had sex with anyone else like this. You should know that from the videos.”

“Aye,” he says softly. “I didn’t mean to offend yeh, lass. I was only teasing.”

“Johnny…”

“Yes?”

“Why’d you go away?” you ask. You know it might ruin the moment, but the curiosity is too much, an old wound with the scab picked clean off until it aches all over again. “Things seemed so good when Simon and I first got together. You were coming around all the time. Then you just…left.”

Johnny can’t meet your eyes as he thinks back, as he remembers those days in the year after Simon first met you. When he speaks, his voice is steady. “I told yeh earlier. Couldn’t stop thinking about the two of you. Didn’t feel right to feel that way ‘bout my best mate and his best girl. And when he told me that he was gonna propose to yeh—I had two choices. Stay and watch, or run away. Maybe Simon’s right. Maybe I am a coward.”

“He told me that the two of you almost kissed once. Back during your SAS days.”

A ghost of a smile appears on Johnny’s mouth. “Outside the Barranquilla, Columbia safehouse. I remember. I thought he would break my teeth if I tried, but Jesus, how I wanted to.”

“I think your odds were 50/50,” you say, scooting back until you are seated in Simon’s old spot, reclining against the headboard. “It started back then for you, didn’t it?”

“Aye. I was a goner.”

“You love him.”

Johnny gives you a secretive smile. He presses his finger to his lips. Shh.

Simon enters the room with three water bottles and pauses, eyes flickering between you both. “The fuck were you two talking about?”

“Nothing,” you say. “Is that water? I’m so thirsty, thank you baby.”

“Her subtlety could use some work, LT,” Johnny says, watching as Simon goes and turns the camera back on. You hastily put your mask back in place.

“Not her forte,” Simon admits dryly. He cracks open one of the bottles of water after tossing the last one to Johnny and drinks half of it in just a few gulps, despite having done very little so far in the scheme of things. You figured that was about to change, watching him shrug out of his shirt.

Simon didn’t undress the way Johnny did. There wasn’t any fanfare or confidence; it was simple and efficient. You knew that Simon’s relationship with his body was a complex one. It had served him well, and he did his best to keep it healthy, but contemplating the aesthetics of it was too offensive to his palate. The scars were intense: thick punctures along his sides, the depressed, pale pucker of bullet wounds, the hard clean lines of a knife here and there. You had never minded, and judging by the way Johnny’s throat clicks when he swallows, Johnny didn’t mind either.

“I want to fuck you,” he says.

“Yes,” you agree. Fingers had been excellent, but nothing could compare to Simon’s cock.

He shakes his head. “Not you. Him.”

You turn your gaze on Johnny whose eyes are avidly watching Simon unfasten his jeans. He pushes them down over his thick thighs and reveals he’s not wearing any underwear beneath, his cock half-hard and rosy. He wraps his fist around it, jerking himself to full stiffness with a perfunctory touch, not at all interested in the show he is putting on for you both.

“Can you take him, Johnny?” you tease.

“I’ll die trying, thanks very much.”

“I hope not,” is all Simon says, going to the bench at the end of the bed and retrieving the lube. He asks: “Condom?”

“Not necessary,” Johnny says, breaths coming faster now. You put your hand on his ankle, remembering the way he had touched you there on Christmas, stroking the bone softly. He glances to you and grins, and you see that what you mistook for nerves is actually excitement. He puts his hand over your own, squeezing. “Are you going to feel left out, lass?”

“Terribly.”

“If you last the whole time,” says Simon, holding the lube up to the light to see how empty it is. “I’ll let you fuck her when I’m finished with you.”

“Jesus,” Johnny laughs weakly. “Can’t argue with that. Throw me that and I’ll get myself ready.”

“I can do it,” says Simon, seating himself on the edge of the bed. Johnny shifts into a better position, feet flat on the bed, knees toward the ceiling. For a long time, Simon just looks at him: his silly hair, the odd scar here and there, his half hard cock. Deftly, he opens the cap on the lube and slicks two fingers while you come to kneel on the other side of Johnny, eager for a show.

“Camera, love,” Simon reminds you, fingers searching between Johnny’s legs. Judging by the way Johnny’s jaw goes tight, he’s found what he’s looking for. You shift, glancing over your shoulder to make sure you are out of the camera’s point of view. Reaching down, you trail your fingertips gently over Johnny’s cock. Simon says: “Been a while?”

“You could say that,” Johnny says, mouth falling open in a silent moan as Simon works him open. You’ve been on the receiving end of Simon’s ministrations; you know his patience can be near painful. Johnny learns it the hard way when Simon pauses twice to lube his fingers, until even the soft thrusts he gives into Johnny’s ass fill the room with the sound of sex.

You play with his cock absently, enjoying being the tormentor instead of the tormented for once. Johnny’s silent breaths turn to heavy pants and then needy groans, foreskin pulling back to reveal the sensitive head as he grows in your palm thanks to Simon’s fingers playing inside him. His heels slip against the bedspread as he searches for the angles that suit him best, and he chokes when he finds them.

“Please, I’m ready,” Johnny says, fingers wrapping around Simon’s wrist. Simon lets him pull his fingers free and reaches for the lube again, this time to slick his cock.

“Any preference for how I take you?” he asks mildly, like one might ask, How do you take your tea? One sugar please and thank you.

“None, so long as your cock’s inside me,” Johnny grits out.

“This’ll do,” says Simon, bullying his way between Johnny’s spread thighs. It takes a few pillows beneath his hips before he’s at the right height for Simon’s cock to notch against his entrance, and then you watch with rapt attention as Johnny’s body seems to blossom to welcome in Simon’s cock, a surplus of lubricant easing the way.

Johnny flinches.

“Easy,” says Simon, stilling. “Relax.”

You curl up at Johnny’s side, slipping beneath one of his arms and cuddling against him. Your nervous fingers find one of his nipples and toy with it softly, kissing at his shoulder while you murmur words of encouragement to him.

Johnny laughs weakly. “Don’t need all that, lass, but thank yeh.”

“Wish I had someone cheering me on the first time I took Simon’s cock,” you admit.

Simon frowns. “I was cheering you on.”

“Less talking please, more fucking,” Johnny says, lips upturned. His body relaxes and Simon sinks the rest of the way inside him, all the way to the fucking hilt, deeper than you can ever take him in your cunt. It thrills you and makes you envious all at once. You pinch Johnny’s nipple, forcing a quiet gasp out of his throat.

Simon looks good—strong. Unaffected. But you know him better. His brow is lower than ever, eyes closed as he centers himself. His breaths come so evenly that you know he must be counting them—four seconds in, four seconds out. His fingertips have sunk into the meat of Johnny’s thighs, gripping him tightly, as if to keep him from squirming away, or to keep him from squirming at all.

“You solid?” Simon asks him.

“Affirm,” Johnny breathes. “Go slow.”

Famous last words—Simon withdraws with painstaking care, until just his head lingers inside Johnny’s body. He sinks back in at the most leisurely pace you’ve ever seen, thrusts smooth and deep as his thighs brush against Johnny’s ass. It takes no time at all for Johnny to regret those words, one of his hands laced with yours and the other twisting in the bedsheets as he begs Simon to move faster.

And Simon can only take so much teasing himself, really. He’s human too.

His hips snap into the open cradle of Johnny’s thighs. Johnny cries out, cock jerking where it lays hard and leaking against his belly. You lean up onto one elbow so that you can watch his pretty face contort: brow furrowing, mouth falling open.

“Not going to cum, right?” you ask him slyly.

He shakes his head.

You glance down at his cock doubtfully. Simon, overhearing your words, takes that as a personal challenge, drilling into Johnny with a single-mindedness that is admirable to see and terrible to be on the receiving end of all in one.

Suddenly tears overflow from Johnny’s eyes, dripping down toward his temples. You sit up in alarm as he lifts his hands but he just palms at his eyes, laughing. Simon slows, stops. He reaches down to pry Johnny’s hands away and then kisses him, something soft and sweet. Johnny’s hands shake as he reaches up to thread his fingers through Simon’s hair, tugging him closer.

Your heart feels liable to burst. You remember Johnny’s finger pressed to his lips, that universal sign. Shh.

“He’s alright,” Simon says, not unkindly. “Aren’t you?”

Johnny croaks an affirmative.

After that, it is less fucking and more making love; there’s nothing else to call in. Simon pins Johnny’s wrists to the bed just to feel like he’s still in control, but his thrusts are syrupy slow, not fully withdrawing, seeking to remain as close to Johnny as he can for as long as possible. You stroke one of Johnny’s palms and Simon lets it free so that you can hold it, your fingers lacing together in a way that is foreign yes, but comfortable.

“You’ve been a good boy for me, Johnny,” Simon says.

“Don’t say that,” Johnny groans, turning his head away, flushed pink.

“It’s true. Know how to be an even better boy?”

Johnny is intrigued. Being a good boy is suddenly beneath him; now he wants to be the best boy. Looking at Simon through his lashes, he asks: “How’s that?”

“Cum on my cock.”

“Don’t do it Johnny,” you whine. “It’s a trap.”

Simon laughs. He kneels back onto his haunches, dragging Johnny’s body along with him, and reaches for the other man’s cock, working it over in his fist. Johnny nearly howls, kept on the edge so long that to see the bottom of the cliffside is to know the promise of pain. He doesn’t know whether to grind his hips deeper against Simon’s cock or to chase the heat of his hand.

“Close,” he groans.

“Go on. Pretty abs like this—make a mess on ‘em.”

Johnny does, pearlescent seed dripping from between Simon’s fingers as he milks Johnny for every last drop. Only then does he begin thrusting again, fast and hard, searching for his own end. Not a handful of thrusts later and he goes sloppy, breath punched from his lungs as he spills inside Johnny.

“You promised me a cock to ride,” you say.

“Couldn’t be helped, lass,” Johnny says with a dopey, lovesick smile. You hum.

“We’ll just have to get you hard again, won’t we?” you ask, wrapping your fingers around his softening cock.

That night, the bed is full. Johnny and you are entwined, legs and arms wrapped around each other creating an endless feedback of heat that Simon was careful not to be swept away in, too focused on his mission to allow for any mistakes. He makes no sound as he slips out of bed. He stops by the tripod in the corner and takes his phone out into the living room, turning the sound down so low that he has to hold the speaker close to his ear to hear it, lest he wake Johnny.

He listens to you and Johnny talk while he was gone, when you believed the camera to be off. He plays it again, watching just the video. By the time he’s returned in the video, Simon’s chest feels full of pressure, like something is inside him trying to crawl its way out. Love. What does Simon Riley know about love?

Well, he knows one thing.

Except maybe now he knows two.

He deletes the video and goes back to bed.

#ghoap x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #complicated pleasures #simon riley x reader

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fabled-fiction · 5 months ago

Note

Cregan Stark x Targaryen daughter of Rhaenyra

I don’t have a deep plot but I do have an idea. What if reader takes the place of Jace and flies to encourage Cregan like in the recent episode and he’s mesmerized by her beauty? 👀 Something along those lines — feel free to add or change it! ☺️ Thanks!

Snowflakes, Stolen Looks, and Beating Hearts

(Cregan Stark x Strong!Reader)

Summary: When you are sent with your brother Jacaerys to meet up with the Lord in the North, Cregan Stark, some feeling being to make the both of you light headed and forget just exactly what duty calls from the both of you.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: MAYBE POSSIBLE SPOILER ISH FOR EP 1. Yearning, possible OOC for Cregan (love does things to a man can you blame him??), Use of (Y/N)

A/N: This took…too long to write. I wanted to make this a yearning lovesick-y fic of Cregan that I have been DYING for and kept mulling over all the details. BUT ALAS it is here, I hope it filled your request and you all enjoy!!

You never thought that you would see snow.

You always wished to see it, having heard of its beauty. Ice falling from the sky in beautifully small flakes that seemed to be sewn together by the gods.

Looking at the palm of your hand, you smiled as you studied the pattern of the snowflake. Its exquisite beauty only lasting mere seconds as it began to melt into the valleys of your skin. A small frown made its way in place of your smile as you temporarily mourned the flake, before you wiped your hand on your cloak.

To think this place was blanketed in such beauty for the entire year.

Just ahead, Jace took a glance over his shoulder as he stared at the spectacle that was you. You stood next to your dragon, still as ever letting the snow collect on your hair and shoulders. You looked statue-esque as you continued to catch snowflakes, admiring them before they met their inevitable fate. Lost in your own world as you took a moment to forget about everything that had been plaguing you for the past few months.

He wished he could do the same, even for just a moment. Arriving at Winterfell, had him feeling on edge. For his whole life Jacaerys had protected you, feeling it was his duty to make sure nothing ever hurt you. The both of you, him being the first son of Queen Rhaenyra and you the first and only daughter, had grown up to know the true meaning of duty. This alone had bonded the two of you practically to the hip, it did not matter that you were older than him.

Looking back at you, he smiled as he saw how much snow had collected on your hair…people could mistake you for a “true” Targaryen…

That alone reminded him of the reason they were there.

“(Y/N)...c’mon we mustn't be even more late than we already are to meet with Lord Stark. Nightfall will be upon us yet…”

He watched as you finally looked up from the palm of your hand and sighed. Shaking the snow off of your head and shoulders, you rushed to meet his pace.

“I must say, I quite like this cold. It's much better than the humidity we face on Dragonstone.”

This earned a chuckle from Jacaerys. “Is that what you think of now? Not what to say to Lord Stark? What words to sew together to ensure he is our ally?”

“I do not need to take such action. Diplomacy comes easy to me. Besides, the Starks are known to be loyal to a fault.”

That much was true. Jace wasn’t entirely sure why he felt such anxiety with this meeting. It could have been that the simple act of ensuring allyship meant that war was truly upon your house. Or perhaps it could have simply just been that he did not wish to look a fool aside you as you expertly made your way through conversation with Lord Stark despite this being your first meeting. Since the both of you were small you had a knack for persuading people with your words. The Silver Tongued Dragon, you had been known as not long after this talent was found out.

Yes, he had nothing to fear. This would all go smoothly.

“Lord Stark, Prince Jacaeyrs Velaryon and Princess (Y/N) Velaryon of House Velaryon have arrived.”

Cregan nodded to the squire, straightening his cloak as he strapped Ice to his back.

This meeting in particular was one he was not too entirely worried about. House Stark had bent the knee to King Visery’s when he named his daughter as heir to the iron throne. This matter had been in the back of Cregan’s mind, with many more pressing matters being his top priority. He supposed that is why he often did not make the best first impressions, as his priorities were not that of the common list that many found themselves concerned with. He did not take an immediate interest in the pursuit of heirs or of ensuring that the house had a formidable reputation. Duty was his priority.

This meeting was a matter of formality to him. To ensure that he would stand behind Queen Rhanerya and support her in whatever way he could, without crippling the defenses on the Wall.

His hands reached back to tie his hair halfway up, his eyes focusing on the black ice of the steps. As his fingers struggled to snap the band around, he finally looked up to meet the faces of the two young dragons.

When his eyes met yours, everything seemed to stop.

It was as if the snows knew to freeze this moment over, so he could have the chance to meet your eye.

Cregan Stark had heard of the beauty of the old Valyria. He listened to the stories men shared of the silver haired house that brought out the darkest of temptations of man. How their men and women held a grace about them that had wives and husbands lust for just the touch of their hand on theirs.

As he looked at you, he felt that those stories were watered down backswill of a drunkard. There was not a word within the all known language of the Seven Kingdoms that could describe what he felt in this moment as he had the fortune to lay his eye upon you. He felt his grip on the banister tighten as he took in the sight of you. You, who looked up at him with the most mesmerizing beautiful eyes that only looked at him.

It wasn't until he saw the rise and fall of your own chest did he remember to breathe.

“Lord Stark, It's an honor to make your acquaintance.”

Looking over at your brother, Cregan cleared his throat as he made his way down the stairs to properly shake his hand.

“The honor is all mine, to host the both of you here. My apologies for the weather, but it is the North.”

His accent stuck out to you. On Dragonstone and even throughout the Keep, when you had stayed there once upon a time, people often shrouded themselves in uppity falsehoods. Either to seem as if they were meant to truly walk amongst you, or to be someone entirely different from whence they came. It was part of the reason why you were so glad to have fled to Dragonstone, there were not as many falsehoods there.

So to see Cregan Stark have no fear in brandishing his weaponry, and speak to you in the laced tongue of the North was refreshing. You were drawn to the way he felt as if the niceties of royalty were second thought. As if the both of you could afford to toss aside pleasantries. It made you smile.

There was something else to be said about the Northerner. Just the way he stood before the both of you alone was enough action to intrigue you.

“Lady Velaryon, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

When his hand enveloped yours, you felt your breath catch in your throat. His eyes did not leave yours, as he lifted your knuckles to his lips.

“I wish it under other circumstances, Lord Stark.”

Giving him a small smile, the two of you stood there eye in eye. He had yet to let go of your hand as the two of you held each other there. When you stood this close to him you were able to get a better look at the man they had named Wolf of the North. Cregan Stark stood before you, dressed in fur and leather, bowing as he held your hand. You couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter as he held your eye. A flurry of grey and blue looked at you, purely you, and you couldn't help but feel as if that's all he wanted to do. Just as you stood there now, feeling consumed by the eye of the storm and wanting nothing more but to throw yourself to the whims of the winds.

“Lord Stark, Is there somewhere more private we could discuss?”

Feeling the hot stare of Jacaerys gaze on you, you regrettably took your hand from Cregan’s grasp. The imprint of his warmth on your skin remained, even through the leather, making you bring your hand to your chest as you bowed your head to him quickly.

Clearing his throat, Cregan looked at Jacaerys with a nod before motioning to the large metal lift.

“ ‘Course, let us talk atop the Wall.”

Jacaery’s held your eye for a moment as the both of you followed the Wolf. His eyes held a question within them as the two of you silently spoke. He had watched that whole scene unfold, having been a bystander to the tension that grew with every second that Cregan held your gaze. You simply rolled your eyes as you shoved him before following the Northerner into the metal cage.

Closing your eyes, you froze for a moment to feel the northern winds run through your hair and cloak. Snowflakes found themselves resting on you again, drawn to the warmth that ran through your Targaryen blood. As the lift brought you higher and higher into the sky, level with where you flew your dragon, it almost felt as if the air in your lungs crystallized.

“So tell me Lord Stark, What is this that falls from the sky and shivers my bones? Is it not still summer throughout the isles of the Seven Kingdoms?”

Cregan was so lost in his jealousy of the snowflakes that rested upon your skin that he almost didn't hear you speak. It wasn't until you had opened your eyes and looked at him through your lashes did he realize you had addressed him.

“This is only a late summer snow, my princess. In the true winter it will cover all you see, any memories you hold of warmth will be forgotten.”

“Sounds..hauntingly beautiful. Whilst this is my first time seeing snow it is my understanding that this is not the first time our ancestors have met here to treat? If I am correct it was the…Conqueror and the King in the North?”

Jacaerys felt a relief fall over his shoulders as he heard you expertly laced the matter at hand into conversation. His eyes landed on Cregan as he watched the man hang onto every word you spoke. Not once had he looked at Jacaerys after the three of you stepped into the lift. His eyes never left you even before you spoke. He would like to think that it was because of the presence and attention you demanded. He had seen it many a time before, people could not look away from you whenever you entered a room, and their fates were often sealed after you had started to speak.

But, something else lay within his gaze. Jacaerys had seen that look before. The look of total awe and devotion to the other.

It was the same exact look he gave Baela.

“Surely the great Torrhen Stark would have sooner died than bent the knee. Unless of course he believed the Conqueror could bring unity to the Seven Kingdoms?”

Cregan looked over to Jacaerys with a sigh. This meeting was meant for diplomacy, he had to remind himself of this as he looked to the Prince. He felt a crease grow within his brow as the three of you walked throughout the icy walkways of the top of the wall.

When your hand reached to hold his arm, he felt a fire light in his chest at your touch alone. It was as if you took all his pain and worry, forbidding it from plaguing him. When he took the opportunity to look over at you, he felt the ice in his veins thaw.

“What my brother is getting at, Lord Stark, is that there is a threat upon the unity to the Seven Kingdoms. One that would tear the realm apart if the men and women who swore an oath to our grandfather do not remember who the rightful heir is. You understand our concerns do you not?”

“Starks do not forget their oaths, my princess…”

Looking at your hand placed on the crook of his elbow, he swallowed as he rested his hand atop yours.

“Can we depend on your men if the time comes that the Hightowers declare war upon our mother’s claim to the throne?”

Looking at Jacaerys, Cregan swallowed. He should not have felt torn, but he did. He needed his men here, to defend the wall from that which dared to plague Westeros. There were forces that lay in wait, that threatened the sanctity of not only the North but the South as well. He did not wish for his duty to falter in this dire time of need. But he had seen the worry in your eye. He knew that you were dependent on the power of the North if your mother’s throne, if you family was meant to remain the next in line. Another part of him wanted to promise whatever he could, whatever you needed just at the drop of the word.

“You must understand my hesitation, my Prince. Whilst I wish for nothing more than to offer you the whole of which the North has to offer, I must keep my army here to defend the Wall. Do you think my ancestors built a seven hundred foot wall to keep out snow and savages?”

As the three of you approached a divet within the wall, all of a sudden a very overwhelming dread filled your stomach. Looking over the edge, you saw nothing but a vast forest, covered in snow. But for some reason, the dragon within you faltered. Every sense you had was screaming at you to back away from the ledge that you took further steps towards.

“What does it keep out?” Jace asked, as he felt his heart fall in his chest at the sight of you taking a closer step to the edge of the Wall.

“Death.”

You took a moment to look over your shoulder at Cregan once hearing the declaration. You had heard stories about the meeting place that took place here. How when King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne stood in your very spot, their dragons refused to cross the threshold. It made your stomach drop just at the idea of there being something more beyond the wall. That was a thought for another time however.

Both Jace and Cregan watched as you stood still as a statue once more, looking over the land of the North.

“I understand your hesitation to pull your men from the Wall, Lord Stark. It is quite the responsibility you have here,” Taking a step back, you swallowed as you smoothed your hair back. Jace offered you a hand to steady yourself as you took a few steps back from the edge.

“All we ask is that you provide whatever you can when the time comes. In return I personally can promise you’ll have mine when needed.”

Cregan sighed as he looked between the Wall and you. That alone had just sealed his fate, that he truely would give you whatever you needed, especially now knowing that you felt a duty to protect what was his as well. He could see it in your eyes when you looked over that edge. You believe his tales of things that lurked in the dark, just as he believed you when it came to the vile words of treachery.

The both of you would need the other soon enough yet.

“I can offer you thousands of greybeards. They have seen far too many winters, having grown a distaste for the cold. Their skills are well honed, and they can be ready to fight at a moment's notice. They will fight hard for you, like Northerners.”

There was a visible tension that dropped from the both of your and Jace’s shoulders after his words. Your brother rested his hand on your shoulder as you clasped your hands together in front of you. Jace then reached forward to shake Cregan’s hand with both of his.

“Thank you Lord Stark. Your promises will not be forgotten.”

Finding your way beside the both of them, you clapped your hand on both their shoulders with a beaming smile.

“Lets celebrate shall we?”

He couldn't take his eyes off you.

You sat across the table, the warmth of the candle light that lit up the meeting hall suiting itself well on your cheeks. You had settled in well at the opposite head of the table, chatting with other Northern women. You were content, from as well as he could tell.

His eyes hadn’t left you since the minute you found yourself in his halls, drinking his wine and eating his food. There was something that stirred in the pits of his stomach as he…provided for you. In the ways of war and also in the niceties of comfort. You had taken well to both, and he planned to bathe in your presence for as long as he could before you took your inevitable departure.

After that he wasn’t sure he would see you again ever.

While he should have been fine with that, as he had told himself a multitude of times that courting and the ways of society were well beyond his interests, something made him sick at the idea of letting you just slip away because of some silly notions he had been telling himself. You had bewitched him at first glance, and as he had taken in more of your presence throughout the day he could rightfully say that you had taken up a space in his mind if not in its entirety.

His hand gripped his chin tighter at these thoughts alone.

“Lord Stark…”

Shaking his head, he looked over to see your brother standing beside him.

“My prince, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jace motioned to the chair besides Cregan, sitting down as the Lord motioned him. Taking one last look at you, as you laughed aloud at whatever the person holding your attention had said, he figured he could spare a moment of his attention being somewhere else.

“I just wanted to come by and thank you once again for pledging your support. I know it was not your responsibility to ease my anxieties but you did anyway, and I am grateful for it.”

He gave a curt smile to the prince, turning his body to face him to ensure that he was indeed involved in whatever conversation Jacaerys had meant to begin. However that could not be further from the truth as his mind began to wander.

“A Stark never forgets their oath. I would not be the man I am today had I intended to ever break it. “

“I figured as much. My sister said quite the same thing when we arrived, she being the more faithful one.”

Cregan smiled at the comment, taking another look over to you. You were alone in thought now, whoever you were speaking with having taken your attention for granted no doubt and departing to enjoy the festivities that were about. You were looking out the window, taking in the snow of the North like you had been earlier that day.

“She the smarter of the two of you hmm?” He quipped, smirking as he watched Jace chuckle to himself.

“She is the smartest out of all my siblings I would say. (Y/N) has always been a good judge of character, I don’t think I have ever seen her put her trust into someone who didn’t deserve it.”

His heart jumped at the words Jace bestowed upon him. Somehow knowing that you trusted him, that he was one of the few that could claim to have earned your admiration even within just a few words made him feel stronger in a sense. Is this what men talked about, when they said that the affection of a woman made them feel as if they could move the hills? If this is how he felt just at the mention of your trusting him, he couldn’t help but ponder on how he would feel from being the object of your affections.

“I think that might be one of the main reasons why she hasn’t been courted.”

Cregan froze, feeling himself look over at you once again. For some reason the thought did not run through his mind that your hand could have already been called for. It stirred something in him, knowing that your name was still Velaryon.

Your seat was empty when Cregan looked over again. He saw your silhouette turn the corner quickly, vanishing in a flurry of red and black.

“Enjoy the rest of the meal my prince.” Cregan laid his hand on Jace’s shoulder before making his exit in the same direction that you had.

Jace smiled to himself as he watched the man quickly follow your footsteps with haste, his cloak making a rather dramatic arch at the turn.

There you stood, looking into the sky. You looked as if you were infatuated by the moon herself, lit up only by her beam as snowflakes flitted around you. If it was possible for you to look anymore ethereal Cregan would become devote. You were cast in a halo of moonlight, so entranced that it almost made him guilty for interrupting such an intimate moment.

Looking over your shoulder, he swallowed whatever nerves he was feeling so he could actually have the opportunity to talk with you. But then you smiled at him, and he felt himself grow weak. Part of him wanted to fight against this foreign feeling, the other wanted to bask in it.

“Lord Stark, I hope my leaving didn’t come off as rude. I wanted to enjoy the cold for just a little longer.”

“Not at all. I’m glad you have taken such an interest in what others would consider harsh.”

This got a small hum from you as you held your gloved hand out. “How one could consider this harsh is beyond me.”

Cregan chuckled to himself as he came to stand next to you, watching as you studied the snowflake in your palm.

“Winter is not often kind. The cold and ice have a tendency to turn those away, since it takes so much and gives so little.”

“Fire does the same, yet people hold it in such a high regard. People should do the same with snow.”

Cregan hung onto every word you said, taking this private moment deep within. Hearing you speak so poetically, especially when the topic was anything other than the purpose of which you came. To get a glimpse into who you were, to know the person that was you made him think of a million other questions to ask just to fill out every step it took to understanding you.

He watched you closely as you brought your hand down, and held your arms when you looked up. The cloak you had dawned earlier was nowhere in sight, and if he could recall it had been left behind on your chair in the haste of leaving the room. Cregan was quick to remove his own fur lined cloak, and drape it across your shoulders. It swallowed you, enveloping you in the lingering warmth that was him.

“Thank you, you did not have to.”

“What type of a host would I be if I let you freeze?”

You laughed at his comment, a full laugh, and placed your hand on his bicep. It was still cold, from catching snowflakes, but it warmed him none the less.

“Plus, it looks better on you. The North suits you.”

A flash of blush rested on your cheeks at the comment, and made you tighten the grip on his cloak.

“Thank you, Lord Stark. I do have to say of all the places I’ve been I think I have enjoyed my time here the most.”

With a nod, he clasped his hands behind his back before leaning a little closer to whisper to you.

“Well I hope then that the next time you are here I can show you all that Winterfell has to offer..that is if there is a next time?”

You both had turned to face each other now, your hand still holding his arm as you looked up and only him now. He looked at you the same way the moon did, and you basked in the warmth of him in the same way.

Reaching forward, his hand came to hold a bit of your bang before wiping the snow from it and tucking it behind your ear. His hand came to rest on your cheek, holding the side of your face as the both of you were able to finally really look at each other without the wandering eye of anyone else.

He took his time committing your face to memory, just in case this was truly the last time he would see you. Cregan wanted to make sure his dreams were able to replicate the image of you.

You stood there, doing the same. You were surrounded by him entirely, in scent and sight. This entire afternoon when he wasn’t looking at you, you were looking at him. You could feel this back and forth game of cat and mouse that had played out, but there was a nagging reminder of everything that lead to this meeting and everything that waited after it.

Perhaps you could take this night to bask in something that wasn’t duty.

“I could entertain the thought, only if you could make the trip worthwhile.”

This earned a laugh from the northerner as he looked at you, and his thumb ran under your eye. The feeling off his touch had you feeling drunk off his attention. Oh you were absolutely certain if anyone had seen the two of you in this exact moment there would be many an accusation.

“Oh? And how exactly would I do that my princess?” He mused, looking at you tenderly

Reaching to hold the wrist of the hand that held you, you stroked his wrist and hummed.

“Give me a reason to come back, Cregan Stark. A reason that isn't just snow, or the cold. Something that is more than the North. More than duty.”

He stood there, just staring back into your eyes as he thought of the declaration. To give you a true and proper reason to ride all the way back here, where he was nothing but duty and sacrifice. To give you a part of him that was something else completely. You asked this of him as if it was the easiest thing he could sacrifice in order to see you again.

It should have been a hard request to fill. A question that should have left him tormented when giving the answer.

But somehow his answer was sealed the minute you stepped into view.

“Me…Come back for me.”

In the silent moment between the two of you, all that could be heard was the howl of the wind and the beating of your hearts as they became forever joined with just a touch.

#cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #cregan stark #velaryon!reader #hotd x reader #hotd season 2 #strong!reader

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snowsinterlude · 11 months ago

Text

melted snowflake.

(coriolanus x plinth!reader)

summary: coriolanus never thought he would fall into his own trap. his plan wasn't falling for you. no, it was the contrary, he was supposed to use you. but god, you were so perfect for him.

based on this ask!

c.w: snow being a bit of a jerk, manipulation, jealousy, plinth reader x coriolanus snow, snow being head over heels with you, fluff (?)

you were a district girl, of course. your parents made sure to take that out of your head, but you couldn't simply forget about everything you lived in the districts. you were a child, but it didn't mean you were dumb or blind not to caught up on the things surrounding you.

the first time you saw snow was when your father met panem's president and left you to play on the kindergarden with your brother, sejanus. of course, it didn't go as planned when you were pushed away by a random kid and he protected you and your brother.

of course, after that, he never talked to you guys. a snow is not supposed to talk nor look at poverty with kindness. that's what his grandma'am taught him.

with this being explained, neither him nor his grandma'am expected your family to get richer than the snows, but after his father's death it was only natural they would be poor.

"y/n?" he approached you, now at the academy. he was a beautiful young man, often obtained your attention because of how much praise he recoeved from teachers and others. even though you were rich now, of course you wouldn't fit in as well as he did. not when you and your brother disagreed with everything the capitol kids stood for. "i'm sorry to interrupt you, but the teacher assigned us to do our assignment together." it was a lie. you could tell right away.

but why not see where he'll go with this?

well, that's what you decided to do. every lie he told you made you want to slap him from how dumb he seemed to think you were.

everyday you would caught him staring at you, at your eyes. stealing glances, stealing everything he could from you. hearing your voice was turning out to be the best moments of his days. but you knew deep in your heart that he was taking you for stupid. you were a girl, smaller than him, more soft looking than him, and he thought it was adorable.

but snow, being a snow, had something other than that silly feelings in his body. plans that didn't go as planned when you slapped his face hard, the red print kf your hand on his white skin being visible.

"hey! what are you-?" you interrupted him.

"look, i allowed you to go as far as lie to me about everything, even what others had to say to me. but i will not allow you to say anything about feelings, snow. this isn't funny. this is sick, and twisted. to think you want to have whatever i want so much that you would go as far as say you love me makes me sick." you said, and he blinked his eyes quickly, dumbly looking at you.

"ah, c'mon. don't look at me like that. you really thought i would believe you when you said clemencia hated me? man, she doesn't even know my name!" you kept going, and he gasped a feel times, his hand touching the place you slapped. "stop coming after me."

and you were gone, just like that. everything snow had planned for you both had gone down the drain while you walked away from him.

and after that, he tried to talk to you. he truly did. but you were always so far away from him, and when you caught a glimpse of him walking your way, you would always exit whatever place you were entering.

"man, what you did to the plinth girl? she's running from you like the devil runs from a cross." festus said, watching you exit the library the moment he stood up from the desk they were in.

"i don't know," he said, but he knew what he did to you. he knew he was wrong. and god, the ache he felt on his chest when he saw you laughing at a joke some body made to you was unberable.

that's when he noticed it. that's when he noticed he liked you, more than he planned to. you were supposed to be his accessory, his pretty ornament on the shelf, used when needed to. but now? ah, you had him at your bare feet and you didn't even knew, and if you did, you didn't care.

it was his fault, of course. he didn’t need to tell you that clemencia hated your guts, or that festus was betting that he could fuck you till the end of the year when you said he was pretty, or anything before and after that.

and thinking of that, he had a white bouquet of roses on his hand, provided by his grandma'am when he said he needed to apologize to the prettiest girl he had ever seen. mentally rehearsing his apology and what he would say, he didn’t even notice when he was already at your door, nervously knocking.

you were rich. why was it you the one who answered the door? god, if you were his wife in a near future, you wouldn't even need to move your hands to eat a grape and-

slam!

you closed the door right when you saw the white bouquet on his hand and the ashamed face he had on.

"y/n!" he called you, knocking on the door and pressing the bell of your house multiple times. it was so loud, so irritating, that you opened the door again.

"god, what the hell do you want?!" you asked, angrily frowning at him.

"you," he said. "please, i'm sorry. i-i didn't took you for stupid- you're actually the smartest girl i've seen in the academy, and the prettiest too, and i'm so sorry for being a douchebag to you but i wasn't planning on-" he stopped talking, gulping down.

"planning on what? being a jerk? a liar? a manipulator? a-"

"on falling in love." he said.

"there he goes again." you said, rolling your eyes.

"y/n, i'm serious!"

"prove me." you said, crossing your arms. and he fell on his knees at your feet, placing the roses delicately on your ground. "i'm sorry. i think love is a weakness, i am not used to feeling it- nor any kind of affection towards others but- i can't stand the sight of you, the thought of you being with anyone that isn't me, please-"

ah, how cute. anyone who saw coriolanus at your feet right now would be surprised, his grandma'am would go nuts, saying that snow's are supposed to be on top and not on the bottom of some district girl's feet. but he didn’t mind. he needed to do it. if being on his knees was the only way to get back at you, fuck it. he would be.

"get up." you said, looking away. he obeyed you promptly, eyes looking at you with hope. "that's your last chance, coriolanus." he nodded, almost falling on his knees to kiss your feet.

well, within the span time of seven months, you both were dating. but it didn't change much, coriolanus was always, and i mean always ready to get on his knees for you. he was a sucker for you, even if he was all high and mighty with others, with you, he was a melted snowflake. and he was fine with it.

#coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #young president snow #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #x reader #plinth reader

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junislqve · 6 months ago

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ᯓ seasons — ot7

syn i used to hate it, until i found out it was your favorite thing. (1504 words)

pairs ot7 + reader | cw petnames — mlist navi

note synopsis was actually more of a prompt but err i hope you guys enjoy anyway >< also im writing this half asleep so im sorry if there are any mistakes !! everybody thank peng cause without her this wouldn’t even be here rn

LEE HEESEUNG

“why don’t you warm me up?”

heeseung never liked winter. he hated the coldness and the gloom that came with it. ever since he was young, he’d stay cooped up in his room refusing to go out and play with the snow.

even as an adult, heeseung would be more silent during the season, chattering his teeth even though he wore about a dozen coats.

well that was until he knew you. you were the complete opposite. you loved the coldness and the festive feeling of winter. finding the beauty in the falling snowflakes.

ever since heeseung started dating you, your love for winter created a small fondness in him. he loves it when he gets to see your pretty smile and your nose red-tinted from the cold.

he loves it most when you both would take the train back after a day out and you would fall asleep on his shoulder, hands tucked on his to keep yourself warm.

PARK JONGSEONG

jay had never really been picky with anything. having being the cook back at home and even now cooking for you made him accustom to people’s likes.

one thing, however, that never had he enjoyed was caffeine. he hated the bitter aftertaste of it. the smell that always lingers.

but when you once bought him an americano back when you both were still friends, he downed the whole thing. making you laugh, he liked hearing your laugh, it was addicting. he saw how you were savoring the taste after every sip. thinking that if you liked it, it shouldn’t be that bad.

and now, every morning before you woke up, he’d add coffee-brewing to his routine. making both of you coffee before heading for work. but really, he just loved seeing you hum in delight after a sip, a small smile on your lips.

“you’re so good at this, babe” you say, complimenting his brewing skill.

“why don’t you give me a kiss for it then”

SIM JAEYUN

you loved musicals. from hamilton to phantom of the opera, you’ve always loved watching them if they played in theaters near you.

jake, however, would rather spend his time playing soccer or watching a movie at the comfort of his home. he didn’t find musicals interesting, refusing whenever his friends offered to go watch one together.

however, when you offered, he found himself sitting near front seats in a large theatre. completely invested in the story line. he took down internal notes in his head knowing you’d start talking about it the moment you both walked out the theatre, just so he could give his own perspective in case you asked.

he would listen to you talk all day if it meant having to watch musicals often. asking you to repeat things to see your smile grow. his eyes linger on you, observing the pretty smile you have and the excited glint in your eyes as you talked away.

“wait, can you explain again about what happened to her in the end?”

PARK SUNGHOON

possibly the biggest hater of mint chocolate chip ice cream, sunghoon would not get near it. if he had a choice, he’d rather choose something more simple like vanilla.

but all in all, sunghoon never really liked ice cream. he doesn’t understand the enjoyment people get whenever they’d crave it.

apparently all it took for him to finally try the flavor he most despised was for you to (barely) beg him to hang out with you. he was too flustered when you asked him what flavor he wanted and when you asked if he wanted the same order as you did, he just nodded. barely registering what you said.

he unfortunately did not realize this until he scooped up a spoonful of the ice cream and tasted the familiar, yet, unfavorable taste. however, after much thought and probably the sweet smile you were giving him, he concluded that it didn’t taste as bad as he thought it would.

after dating, sunghoon would often pick up ice cream for you two after a long week, eating it together while huddled up watching a movie in your living room.

the taste of it was always there, but he understood why you adored the flavor. it growing on him more than he’d expected, especially when you’re the one he’s eating it with.

KIM SUNOO

being alone creeps him out. he gets terrified if he was ever left home alone. that’s one of the reasons why he loved going out.

he finds it comforting being surrounded by people, chatting along with anyone and everyone, catching up with them.

before you were in his life, he felt like being alone further makes him feel unwanted. busying himself with anything if, in a case, he were to be left alone.

when you did come into his life, though, it was like you rearranged the meaning of being alone. you love the peace and quiet of being alone. the silence that seems to fill the room letting you breath for a moment.

technically, he still didn’t really like being alone. sometimes, he’d call you to his apartment to ‘be alone’ with you. none of you speaking any words to each other, just laying down and listening to each other’s breathing. so many words unsaid but the feelings able to be conveyed through gestures.

you’d taught him how to enjoy the quietness. he finds that when he’s alone he felt more calm and centered. still, as a person who loves talking, he would always prefer being with people.

but, you redefined the meaning of being alone and he loves you for it. he loves the way you look happy and at peace all the time, he loves it when you both be alone together.

YANG JUNGWON

“babe, can you get my socks pretty please?”

as a person who gets cold easily, you love bundling yourself up before sleeping. your necessities were your 2 blankets, a pillow for your side and socks.

jungwon always found it iffy to wear socks in bed. even if he were to buy new ones to wear only in his house, he still wouldn’t like the feeling of it.

that was until he was introduced to you by a mutual friend. when you two started talking, he found your many quirks adorable.

however, one that he only found out when you started dating, was that you loved wearing socks to sleep. his horror back then showed on his face when you asked him if he were okay.

overtime, you gradually convinced him. especially if it was winter and the coldness would go up by twice the usual weather. being used to your routine, he didn’t even realize he started wearing socks to bed until you pointed it out when he was sleeping over.

the realization he had was baffling, but as he accustomed to it he didn’t find it weird at all. he would start buying you both matching socks when he was out and was thinking of you.

NISHIMURA RIKI

“let’s get back to bed, love”

everyone knows riki is not a morning person. he hated waking up early more than anyone. it’s not weird to find him coming out of his room at 1 pm.

by 1pm, you’ve probably already went to a cafe, had breakfast, catches up with a friend, and had a 2-hour lecture.

when you got involved with riki, you tried your hardest to wake him up early. his friends had told you to give up many times saying they’ve tried over and over again.

but miraculously, on your 7th try, he woke up. although, grumbling, he started sitting up and asking what you were doing at his dorms.

the first time you tried you were just there to drop off some food to your big brother. but when you knocked and no one answered, you were about to leave. until one of his dorm mates opened the door to let you in.

they were all stood crowded in front of his room, shouting at him to wake up, but he never moved. still sound asleep after a whole debate session ensued in the dorms.

after your brother and his friends collectively decide to leave him alone instead of trying to wake him up, you put it upon yourself to try as well. little did you know, he’d heard all your wake up calls, just too afraid to face you, seeing his bedhead and all.

7th times the charm however, when he finally braved himself to wake up and reply to you, although his heart pounding abnormally when you smiled at him.

when you two started dating, he couldn’t not wake up before you. much more aware of his surroundings when he’s around you.

riki however is riki. if he were to wake up earlier, then you would also have to wake up later sometimes because of him. deciding to stay in for a bit longer when he asks to, surrounded by his warmth.

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rowdyluv · 6 months ago

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“He's been a bit of a jerk”

Summary: quinn suddenly ditches his childhood best friend on new years eve when they have spent every NYE together since they were 6. luke saves the night

Warnings: use of y/n and I think one or two uses of y/n/n, only brief mentions of quinn not actually active in fic but substantial to the plot, like has internal dialogue via italics, if I missed anything please let me know

Word Count: 1.8k

requested: yes - “luke pining after Quinn’s best friends and he finally gets the girl.”

Authors Note: edited as may 31, 2024 - if you read before May 31 the word count is now 800 more than it is was previously 🫣

part 2

On the frost-tipped grass, (Y/N) sat beneath a canopy of stars, her back propped against the rough bark of an old oak tree. A light dusting of snow had settled over the ground, transforming the world into a perfect winter wonderland. She shivered, not necessarily from the cold evening, but from the heart wrenching realization that tonight was supposed to go different. It was New Year's Eve, and every year since they were six, she and her childhood best friend, Quinn had celebrated together. But this year, he had up and ditched her last minute. Just like that. He gave her zero explanation and no apology. He had just vanished into the night with his middle brother, leaving her feeling more alone than ever. Which when he left for the NHL was pretty hard to top, yet he somehow managed to do it when he was only somewhere in the same town. The two barely get to see each other anymore as it is. He lives in Vancouver and she lives in Michigan. Quinn flies her out to a few games a season and of course she attends any Canucks vs Redwings games as well as Canucks vs Devils games. However the time the two have available with one another is so restricted at that time, she may as well be just another fan in the arena.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching through the frosted snow. A warm blanket was draped over her shoulders, and a steaming cup of hot chocolate was pressed into her hands. She looked up, her eyes falling on her best friend’s youngest brother, Luke, as he joined her. She briefly looked over his features, his cheeks were already flushed from the growing colder night, but the smile he gave her was warm and genuine.

"Hey, (Y/N)," he whispered as if they were amongst a huge crowd of people and not alone in an empty yard. His voice still highly audible over the silence of the night. "I came out here for a few reasons but one being because I…” Luke’s words ran out into the night. His right hand pulling off his beanie then he was slipping his fingers through his messy curls. A tell tale sign he was nervous about whatever he was about to say. “I wanted to apologize for what Quinn did to you tonight. He had no right to leave you like that. I don’t know what is going on with him and what would make him decide to leave behind the one person who has been consistent for him that isn’t family. The one person in his life that still sees him as Quinn and not as big shot Quinn..” Luke shoved his beanie back on and sighed. He had been looking up at the night sky watching the night clouds move uncovering the stars. “He has been a bit of a jerk here lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to stop him."

(Y/N) smiled weakly at the rambling boy next to her. Her gaze slowly drifting back up to the now clear sky and where the stars were twinkling like Christmas lights. "It's fine, really. I mean, it stung a lot at first, but..." Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged halfheartedly. "I'm just glad you were here tonight." The butterflies in Luke’s stomach flapped back to life and were going insane at her last statement. “Who knows Lukey. Maybe we can start our own tradition together this New Year’s.” Luke was watching her body languagefor any signs of a joke before speaking up. “I wouldn’t mind. It would teach Quinn to ditch someone as special as you.” (Y/N) slightly smiled, still looking up at the stars. “Special? No. Just me Luke.” (Y/N) argued, Luke didn’t want to have the silly argument back and forth. He knew just how special she is. Given the chance he would show her too. After all, a girl like her deserves to be treated, loved, and respected the way she treats, loves, and respects everyone else. (Y/N) was the girl has sought after ever since Luke stopped thinking he was supposed to marry his mom when he was older. Luke shook his head and groaned at her words. “One day (Y/N/N). Just you wait, one day you’ll know just how special you truly are.” He tells her before they fell into another comfortable silent state. His words confidently spilled out. (Y/N) turned her head opposite from Luke so he couldn’t see the true smile she was wearing across her face because of him. She also hoped he couldn’t hear her heartbeat as a result of his words.

The silence stretched between them, as she snuggled further into the blanket, (y/n) suddenly became aware that Luke was only wearing a thin jacket as he shivered. She glanced over at him, her eyes meeting his. "Here," she said, pulling the blanket off from around her shoulders. "You can have this. It's getting kind of cold out here." Luke hesitated for a moment, debating on offering to share the blanket. "No, really. It's fine. I'm warm enough." She shot him a glare. “Luke Warren Hughes. I just saw you shiver.” Her tone, at best, was barely strict. He held eye contact waiting for her to continue, he could practically see the gears turning in her mind. “If you won’t take it for yourself, we will share it.” She says wrapping it around him and snuggling into his side. Luke was trying his best to calm the butterflies and his racing heart. While also fighting the mental battle on if he should shoot his shot at midnight.

(Y/N) is the girl I have wanted for years now. She is right here. Cuddling into my side, a couple moves and I could easily be her new year’s kiss. If she hates it? I just play it off as a friendly new year’s kiss. Her and Quinn have been each other’s midnight kiss before, I can play it off as if I’m filling his shoes if she questions me and she’s angry. I can do this. I can do this. I think I can do this?

As midnight was quickly approaching the air was thick with anticipation between the both of them and more people were gathering outside.

The countdowns echoed throughout the night, each one louder than the last.

Fireworks lit up the sky, casting a multitude of colors over everyone. The fireworks also casting iridescent colors across the blanket of snow on the ground. Making a beautiful picturesque scene.

Luke decided it was definitely now or never. He may not have done it 12am but right now under the colorful display of the many fireworks was perfect. He smiled down at (Y/N), feeling a warmth spread through his chest, for the first time the butterflies in his stomach calmed. He leaned in, his breath fanning her cheek. "Happy New Year, (Y/n)." She felt his lips brush against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. That is when he froze up. Her reaction to his lips barely touching her sent his heart racing. He was scared she was going to send him flying into the snow. Her best friend’s baby brother’s lips just touched her. But she didn’t move. She was waiting? Luke quickly finished his well wishes to her before she snapped out of it, "I hope this year brings you everything you wish for." Her breath caught in her throat as he pulled back, their gazes locked.

“Do it Luke. Her eyes are basically screaming, begging for you to.” why do you have to be in my head now jack dear god please shut up.

In a seconds time he was leaning back in, his left hand making its way softly to the back of her head. His fingers interlacing in her hair. (Y/N)’s breaths were slow and deep awaiting Luke’s next move. “Tell me if this isn’t something you want.” Luke swallows down the anxiety he was feeling. Mentally silencing the jack he hears in his head telling him to go for it. “Because once I do this once.. I’m going to want to do this again and again. Everyday for the next foreseeable future.” Luke’s voice was trembling in want, desire, need. All of his feelings rushing to the forefront of his mind. “Shut up and kiss me Luke.” (Y/N) sighed grasping his face pulling him to her.

As their lips touched, the grand finale of the fireworks show was set off. The energy of the grand finale matching the energy sparking off the two of them. Luke and (y/n)’s kiss was hot enough to melt the snow underneath them. The way their mouths moved in perfect harmony. The small nips Luke made against her bottom lip as he pulled away. It left them both wanting more, needing more.

“Remind me to thank my brother for being an ass.” Luke mumbles against her lips before getting lost in another languid kiss. “Lukey let’s go home. It’s the new year, I’m cold and I also want to thank Quinn, because now I know who the better kisser is...well I’ve not kissed Jack.” She pauses and makes a playful gagging noise. “And because it finally got you to make a move.” Luke’s face went more red than it already was where it was tinged from the cold. “That..what?” He was baffled by her admittance . “I had my assumptions. I’m just happy I wasn’t wrong. Now let’s goooo. I wanna go get in bed and get warm.” (Y/N) sent a wink his way.

She was hinting towards cuddling. But with how fast Luke was grabbing up the blankets that they had been sitting on and were wrapped up in, before grabbing her hand and heading to the car…She is pretty sure his mind went a different direction.

“Quinn now owes me $10, he said you didn’t like me.” (Y/N) says once they were in the car and headed down the road. “You two had a bet on if I had a crush on you or not?” Luke laughed while asking. “No we had a bet on if you even liked me as a person. Because you avoided me. He’s going to be so shocked to know that you like-like me.” She clarifies with a giggle when she says ‘like-like’. Luke rolls his eyes at the thought of his older brother being naive enough to believe he didn’t like his best friend. “So back to what you said earlier tonight…Same thing and same place next new year’s?” Luke asks her. She nods with a smile. “New tradition, with you. Starting this year.” (Y/N) confirms with a nod. “Only maybe we hang out inside until right before midnight.” She adds grabbing for Luke’s hand to wrap both of her freezing ones around. The two sat in a comfortable silence stealing quick glances, with smiles plastered across their faces, and glimmers in their eyes the rest of the way to the Hughes home.

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mothwingwritings · 7 months ago

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Boyfriend To Death/The Price Of Flesh Sleeping Headcanons 🌙💤🛌

Hello everyone! In between fics I have been working on some headcanons, like this one, for your reading pleasure. :) It's some bedtime/sleeping arrangement scenarios feat. you and our favorite murderous companions. <3 It’s dedicated to all the sleepy individuals out there that just want to hit the hay and snooze the day away-I feel you and you are valid. Also there is a bonus plushie headcanon for each character because why not! If you don’t have at least stuffed creature on your bed, this is your sign to love yourself. Go acquire a friend and snuggle up with him, I demand it. ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

DUE TO THE NATURE OF THESE HEADCANONS AND THE SOURCE MATERIAL, 18+ ONLY PLEASE!

Warnings: abuse/abusive relationships, noncon/dubcon, forced cuddling, forced interaction, forced relationships, implied kidnapping, being held against your will, reader is threatened and hurt, mentions of/implied sex, very lightly edited.

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Ren/Fox🦊

· Exceptionally clingy when he sleeps. Honestly like a suction cup. Regardless of if he’s the little or big spoon, he’ll be latched to you the whole night. Wiggle and complain as much as you like, he’s not relinquishing his hold.

· Even if you two are just taking a little nap together, he always has to have some kind of skin contact with you. Holding hands, cuddling, a limb draped over you, something. He needs the reminder that you are there and that you aren’t going anywhere, he can’t sleep peacefully without it.

· He’s warm. Too warm, really. Uncomfortably warm. In winter this poses no problem, but during the summer it’s nearly unbearable. You need to crank the AC to keep yourself from melting into a puddle of sweat, but the added cold only makes him cling to you tighter, increasing the heat. He doesn’t seem to mind the warmth at all and takes offense if you try and voice your irritation, giving you an earful (if not worse) over how you need to be more grateful for the affection he douses you with, warning that if you don’t watch yourself, next time it snows you’ll be camping outside with nothing but the clothes on your back. We’ll see how much you miss his warmth then.

· He’s a night owl, but he also somehow always wakes up before you do. It’s not uncommon for you to be awoken by an eager beastkin shoving a homemade breakfast in your face, excited to start his day with his love by sharing breakfast in bed with you and watching anime. <3

· Though sometimes he gets a little too excited in the morning, and if that’s the case you’ll be waking up to a very handsy man pawing at you, kissing any and every place his lips can reach, pressing himself against you so you can feel just how excited he is. It’s a good thing you are in bed because by the time he’s done you’ll be so worn out you’ll need some more rest. ^^;

· Also, he is an avid fan of plushies. If you also collect them your bed is going to be 90% plushies and he is 100% going to use that as an excuse to be squeezed on the bed with you as close as physically possible so as you all can have room. None of them are allowed on the floor, no man is left behind, and he’ll make sure you all fit whether it is comfortable or not.

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Lawrence🌿

· Lawrence is the exact opposite of Ren when it comes to contact. Though he may fall asleep with you in his arms (or vice versa), he very quickly grows uncomfortable with the prolonged contact, his body used to being the sole person in his bed. Very shortly after he falls asleep, he will unconsciously push you away to try and create distance. No matter how much he may yearn for your contact in his waking hours, he has no control over his subconscious actions. Often times the shoving is much rougher than it needs to be, abruptly (and painfully) waking you up in the process.

· However, this does not deter him from making you sleep with him. Even if he ends up damn near shoving you off the bed, he wants you to be close to him for as long as and as much as possible.

· Lawrence is basically nocturnal, and even if you are also a night owl there are bound to be some times when your sleep schedules don’t fall in line with each other. He gets a little excited when you fall asleep when he is awake, taking pleasure in watching you as you slumber. The way you lay near him, completely unguarded and quiet, only the slow rise and fall of your chest denoting that you are alive at all… It does something for him. More than once you’ve woken up to him standing over you, face flushed and tears in his eyes as he’s pumping his dick to the sight of your passed out form. If you wake before he can finish himself, he’s gonna use you to complete the job.

· In fact, he just likes to stare at you while you sleep in general. He doesn’t have to feel anxious or worried of how you may perceive his gawking if you aren’t aware it’s happening to begin with. It’s a nice chance to really take in and appreciate your beauty without facing any backlash, and it comforts him to know you trust him enough to fall that deeply into slumber in his presence.

· Doesn’t really get the point of plushies and never really had a strong attachment to stuffed animals as a child, so he doesn’t have any of his own and has no desire to own any. He thinks it’s cute that you like them though, and won’t deny you if you want to take one or two to bed with you. If you gift him one, he’ll be flustered but thankful, hugging it when he is unable to hug you. The little friend is a perfect cuddle buddy for when your sleep schedules don’t align and he doesn’t want to disturb you once you have fallen asleep.

· Just be mindful that if he gets agitated or you piss him off, he’ll definitely destroy your beloved stuffies, tearing them to shreds with either his bare hands or any of the gardening tools he has lying around. He’ll instantly feel bad if you begin to cry over it, but at that point it’s too late. It’s best to stop the tears before he turns the assault towards you.

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Strade🔪

· Strade is all over the place when he sleeps. It doesn’t matter how big the bed is or how little space you take up in it, his presence is unavoidable. You can try and create as much distance as physically possible, scrunching yourself up in a corner in hopes that he doesn’t come in contact with you, and you’ll still end up with him sprawled all over you come morning.

· He’s also loud. Snoring, grunting, talking in his sleep, he’s so noisy it’s a wonder you can get any sleep at all. You get used to it after a while (you don’t have a choice), but each time he nudges you in his sleep or wakes you up with a particularly loud snore, it’s all just another unpleasant reminder you are stuck with him, unable to find tranquility even in your dreams.

· He has a tendency to latch on to and keep a close hold of whatever is closest to him while he sleeps. The moment he looks even slightly drowsy you try and stay away from him, not thrilled with the prospect of being smashed up against him for hours on end while he’s pleasantly off in dreamland. Were it anyone else or any other situation, you may find the clinginess endearing, but with Strade it’s just extremely uncomfortable and confusing. You spend the whole time unsure if you want him to wake up and let you go (and thus have to deal with an alert and active monster) or if you want to remain silent and just put up with it, thankful for the rare moment of peace.

· He sleeps the best after successfully finding and securing a new victim, the gusto and energy that he puts towards spending time with his new ‘friend’ leaves him completely spent by the end of the day. A tired Strade is usually a good thing for you-if he’s worn out, he’s less likely to bother or hurt you. However the opposite is also true, if he hasn’t been able to blow off steam in a while he’ll grow antsy and restless, and he’s bound to make his lack of sleep and overall disgruntlement your problem. Regardless, you won’t get much sleep either way, as you find no contentment in either situation.

· Though they aren’t really his thing, he is amused by your plushies. While he can see the appeal of them, the only real interest he takes in them is how you react to them. Which ones are your favorite, do you favor one character or animal over another, do you prefer the big and fluffy or small and squishy? Most importantly though, he wants to know how deeply your fondness for them extends and how/if he can use that as a persuasive tool against you in the future. Should they prove to be a promising means of coercion, prepare for quite a few new plush friends to keep you company in the future. :)

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Celia👩‍💼

· She’s an early riser. Not necessarily because she wants to so much as it’s engrained in her from years of putting in overtime at her corporate job. If you try and pull her back into bed she’ll gripe at you, but is secretly happy that you are willingly making yourself a scapegoat for her laziness. Though on days she absolutely has to get up early, you best be getting up right alongside her to help her get ready for the day or you will be deeply regretting it. She always takes precedence, you can sleep more when she leaves.

· She’s on edge most of the time and is overall a very light sleeper. If you snore or toss and turn too much, she’ll get pissed off and roughly shove you awake, grumbling obscenities while complaining about how annoying you are being. If she can’t sleep, she certainly isn’t going to let you sleep either.

· Even if you aren’t a noisy or restless sleeper, she’ll still find constant things to gripe about regarding your sleeping arrangement. Either you take up too much room, or you are encroaching on her personal space, or you have some other sleeping habit she finds grating that you have no control over because you are unconscious when you do it. She doesn’t ever seem overly pleased to share sleeping space with you, and you often wonder why she doesn’t just banish you to the couch or some other place to get your rest.

· And yet, she never does make you sleep elsewhere. In fact, it only makes her MORE pissed off if you suggest it, taking it as a personal offense that you don’t want to spend time with her. She won’t admit it to you, but the act of sleeping near someone she doesn’t positively loathe or who isn’t trying to use her in some way is one of the few things that really brings her peace. Even if it’s against your will, having you in bed with her soothes her. It’s honestly the best sleep she has had in ages.

· She’s not a huge cuddler, but she does like physical confirmation that you are near. Often times she’ll reach out in the night to grab your hand or drape her arm across your body, never smothering, but just enough contact to assure that you are still by her side.

· She staunchly refuses to have any stuffed animals in her bed, telling you she finds them childish and stupid (whether she actually feels this way or is just pissed you are trying to bring things into her bed that take up even more space is debatable). If she finds any plushies you are hiding she will most likely throw them away on sight. You may be able to get away with a little one, but that’s only if she doesn’t find it or is feeling extremely benevolent.

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Derek🦂

· The only time Derek shows any kind of ‘affection’ is when he sleeps. Like Strade, he likes to secure himself to things while he slumbers, and if he doesn’t fall asleep with an item (you) already in his arms at some point in the night, he will subconsciously grab onto something (also you) and not relent until he wakes the next morning.

· The way he clings to you can almost be considered sweet. Wrapping his arms around you securely, burying his face into your chest or the crux of your neck as he snuggles up against you as close as physically possible, it makes you momentarily forget what a monster the man beside you actually is. It’s almost as if he’s a child huddled up close to a parent, seeking comfort from the things that go bump in the night. The spell is broken if he happens to be awoken during one of these cuddle sessions, and he’ll take out his embarrassment over the situation by treating you even crueler than he typically does.

· One of the few niceties he allows you is sleeping in his bed as opposed to the floor-but it comes at a price. It’s an honor to be able to sleep next to him nightly in his huge, plush, expensive bed, an honor far too good for the likes of you. He expects to be compensated for his generosity, so you’d best be ready to do any and everything he asks or desires at the drop of a hat, no matter how degrading or agonizing it may be. If you want to keep this privilege while preventing as much suffering as possible, you’ll do as he says. (Then again, it’s not like he really needs your active participation to force what he wants out of you, but he does like when you obey him ‘willingly’ and has a tendency to be a smidge less cruel when you follow his instruction).

· He usually forces you to either sleep nude or in some very compromising/uncomfortable/embarrassing negligee that covers so little you mine as well BE naked. He’s a blanket hog too, and has a penchant for cranking up the AC at night, leaving your only source of warmth to be curling up beside him. You try and fight it at first, but you inevitably give in when the chill gets to be too much (also you aren’t too keen on getting ill in his presence, swallowing your pride is worth it if you can avoid more suffering).

· He will mercilessly make fun of and belittle you for any stuffed animals you may have or try to sleep with. He’ll infantilize you, asking if you need a binky to go with your stuffy, or tease that he’ll need to put you in diapers so you don’t accidentally shit the bed. However, even with all the constant mocking, he does find it kinda hot when you try and use the plushies as a shield, doing your best to conceal your sniveling face and exposed body behind the fluffy creature as he plows into you ruthlessly. The toy does a shit job shielding you, but it is hilarious to watch you try and hide yourself behind them.

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Mason🐻

· Despite everything, he’s actually probably the nicest of the lot to sleep with. He’s warm and soft, and when he holds you it’s comforting and shockingly soothing. It’s disconcerting how easily you melt into the same person that caused you so much trauma and torment, haunted by the fact that the arms that now wrap snuggly around you were not so long ago the greatest threat to your life. You don’t know whether you should be more disgusted with him for holding you with such familiarity or yourself for enjoying it as much as you do.

· The man can sleep almost anywhere. After years of surviving out in the wilderness he has honed his body to handle tough climates and all manner of conditions, granting him the ability to thrive in less than favorable environments. The man could probably fall asleep in the middle of a torrential downpour with nothing but a rock bed beneath him and come out of it completely rested.

· You aren’t expected to immediately be able to rough it. He realizes this way of life is all fairly new to you and that getting used to nights out in the wilderness has its own learning curve. Because of this, he’s actually surprisingly accommodating about the whole thing. When you camp, he makes sure to bring his best tent and sleeping bag for you to use, even though it’s a hassle to drag around and he himself has long since forgone the need for it. Though it’s nearly impossible to find comfort enough to sleep while stranded deep out in an unfamiliar forest, surrounded by nothing but the pitch black of night, all manner of voracious wild animals, and a serial killer, he does his best to make sure you are adequately cared for and as content as you can possibly be.

· However you best not slack with your survival instincts, this coddling is only a limited time deal. You proved yourself to him once by pulling through his trial, but that doesn’t mean you have a free ride forever. He’ll pamper you a bit in the ‘honeymoon’ phase, but if you grow complacent and begin to let him down… It isn’t going to be a smooth or happy time for either of you. Its best not to betray his expectations, if you do something overly stupid or otherwise show your survival was just a fluke… your sleeping arrangement is going to be the least of your concern.

· He finds your affinity for stuffed animals a bit juvenile, but also slightly endearing. He can’t deny how cute you look when you are curled up in his bed, nestled amongst various furs and blankets, clutching tight to your favorite plushie while you rest. He enjoys that sight so much that he decides to make you his own plushie for you one day as a gift.

· It was a strange little lumpy creature he cobbled together from various fabric scraps and other soft, but unidentified, material, all sloppily hand sewn with little black buttons for eyes. It was a true amalgamation of mismatched cloth and stuffing, and to be honest… You weren’t really sure what it was supposed to be. A bear, maybe? Or a raccoon? Regardless, you take it without question, and once he sees it’s been accepted he’s quick to discard your previous plush. He’s accepting of this hobby to a degree-you can have ONE. And since you were smart and picked the better of the two, you don’t need the ratty old one to cling to for company anymore. You have him and you have his gift, everything else is frivolous.

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redr0sewrites · 8 months ago

Note

HIYYAAA if it's not too much to ask I wanted to request if you could write Adam, Lucifer, Alastor, Vox and Val having an S/o with weather based powers, like their emotions can influence the weather. Thanks <3

YESSSSSS OFC! I LOVE THIS IDEA SM I LITERALLY SQUEALED WHEN I SAW IT IN MY INBOX HEHE

🥀Cw: none really, mostly fluff, a bit of omplied smut in vals part but what do u expect

Adam

adam is not the most self aware, so it takes him a while to realize that your emotions coinciding with the weather are not just some cosmic coincidence

it strikes him as odd that whenever the two of you argue, the weather in heaven is always particularly nasty, but he doesn't bring it up because he thinks its an idiotic theory

when you eventually explain your powers to him he has the biggest AHA moment ever

honestly adam loves your powers and finds them to be so interesting. he was the first man after all, he was one of the first few to navigate earth's tumultuous weather patterns. seeing you control the weather and watching how it reflects your emotions is genuinely intriguing to him, and adam brags about your powers to others ALL the time

seriously though, adam is always yapping about how he has the most powerful partner and how you're powers are so unique. he genuinely admires you so much and wants everyone else to see you the same way

your powers are useful when it comes to arguments because adam is not the most self aware person, and he tends to not realize when you're upset until you actually flip out

even when you're not upset with him, adam makes sure to do his best to calm you down when he notices the weather being particularly wild

if anyone ever gives you shit about your powers, know that adam will be the first in line to punch them in the face. he knows you can't control your emotions sometimes and never blames wild weather on you

i think adams the type to enjoy warmer weather, and he always cracks the biggest smile when the weather miraculously turns to his favorite type when you're on a date together

definitely loves beach days with you, and the fact that you can make it permanently sunny is so enticing for him

Lucifer

still pissed they took the yellow font away from me

honestly luci is such a sweetie when it comes to your powers. he probably picked up on them pretty quickly considering how powerful you are, but he didn't want to be nosy so he waited until you mentioned your powers to ask questions.

he definitely did have a lot of adorable questions, and was very intrigued about the fact that your emotions were the catalyst that controlled your powers.

after learning that piece of information, he starts paying attention to the weather more often. even before he's dating you, luci will call you to ask how your doing when ever he sees the weather going haywire. he's learned to prepare himself for any weather misfortunes that occur, and always comforts you when you're feeling down

lucifer is quite attentive even without your powers revealing your emotions, and he will often be able to calm you down before the weather even takes a turn for the worse

he would never want to weaponize your powers or use them in any way because he knows how closely linked they are to your emotions. howeeeeeeveeeerrrr, he does admire you when you stand up for yourself with your powers and will definitely cheer you on from the sidelines as you kick ass with the weather without even standing up

lucifers favorite weather is snow!!!! on your guys' first year anniversary, you made it snow inside your shared bedroom as a gift and luci nearly CRIES. he hasn't seen snow in years bc, yk, its hell, not very snowy weather, so the fact that you put in so much effort to make his favorite weather for him honestly makes him feel so appreciated

after that he might ask you to make it snow more often, and he loves cuddling up with you with hot cocoa to watch a cheesy movie while pretty smowflakes fall all around you both

Alastor

alastor would be intrigued by your powers to say the least. he's quick to figure out what they are, and would probably be drawn to you solely because you're so powerful. in fact he'd probably either try to use you for your power or challenge you and be petty, but over time he found himself growing a soft spot not only for your weather powers, but for you

i love al but he definitely saw u as an asset at first, in fact he was probably a bit intimidated and irritated by the spontaneity of your powers, but also very intrigued by your raw ability. he probably found himself attracted to your power more than anything at first, but once he got to know you, alastor began to see you as more than an asset and as a genuine friend, and that feeling continued to grow into something alastor was very unfamiliar with.

alastor probably picked up on your feelings towards him from your powers, and the fact that flowers would literally bloom whenever he was around. it definitely improved his confidence about his feelings and he'd probably pester you a bit into admitting your feelings for him. to your shock he reciprocates, and soon you become hells greatest power couple

alastor sees it as a weakness when someone wears their heart on their sleeve and is very emotional, so he will be very protective of you when your emotions are running rampant and the weather is reflecting that

he does NOT want people to know about your powers because he wouldn't want other sinners to try to hurt you, influence you, or use you to get to him

he'd definitely help you to master them and control them better, and would probably keep track of what each form of weather means and how it correlates to each of your emotions

honestly al loves your powers, and is so intuitive about when you're getting upset. i think he's the type to enjoy rainy weather, so he loves when you make it rain. while he rarely sleeps, once he trusts you enough some nights he'll ask you to make it rain at nightime because the soothing noise helps him sleep

Vox

vox understands that sometimes sinners aren't always happy about the powers and forms they receive in death- for goodness sake, he literally lost his head and has to deal with having a literal television as a head, so he understands it if you struggle with your powers

vox would encourage you to use your power, in fact he would probably love to see you electrocute your enemies or blow them away, vox is entranced by power and would be even more attracted to you if you were powerful

loves when you make it storm during alastors broadcasts so the radio is always staticy and cutting out, it always makes him giggle

it took vox a while to notice your powers, but once you fully explain them, he has LOTS of questions

hes a bit worried about your rain and his TV head at first, after all electronics and weather don't often mix, so he makes sure to waterproof himself and any technology you migh be around

(theres something so poetic about him falling in love with someone who holds the power to dismantle his entire technological empire and destroy his existence- ok i'll stop yapping)

vox doesn't go out very often, but when he does, his favorite weather is warm weather but with a nice cool breeze.

vox would use you for weather forecasts and people often wonder how he's always so accurate! little do they know about his sweet darling controlling the weather for him!

sometimes vox will text you in the morning with a goofy guess on what the weather will be today, something crazy like "the sky will be green" and lo and behold, when he opens his curtains, the sky is green and he is very, very surprised

Valentino

very enticed by your powers to say the least

your beautiful, smart, and powerful? sign him up!

would probably ask you to film in some of his pornos and would use your powers for kink-related uses, such as like a mild electrocution kink (lightning) or waterboarding (rain, etc) or something like that

this oblivious man would probably not notice your powers AT ALL until you explain them to him, he's honestly so clueless but he finds them interesting regardless!!!

valentino is not the most aware of other people's emotions and he can be oblivious sometimes, so the weather is a great gauge of your emotions

he immediately knows when your horny bc he's memorized the weather patterns when you giys have sex.... u hear sum?

he likes teasing you and then hearing thunder boom outside

val loves that his partner is powerful, and loves showing you off and showing off your powers. he's absolutely supporting your right and wrongs

valentino loves hot weather, it gives him an excuse to wear lowkey scandalous clothing so he loves when you make the weather very hot

he assumes you have more control over your powers than you actually do sometimes, and will be surprised when the weather starts acting up as your trying to stay calm

for example, val will tease you by sending you a dirty picture of himself or flashing you a glimpse of his lingerie under his coat and will snicker endlessly when the entire room starts to heat up as the weather suddenly grows uncomfortably hot

sometimes when he's pissed at one or both of the other vees, he'll hve you cause a storm in their offices/rooms just for shits and giggles

SORRY THIS REQ TOOK 500 YEARS ITS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR AGES <\\3 i have never written for valentino before so im sorry his is so short😭 im trying my best yall BUTTTT ANYWAYS EXPECT SOME MORE WRITING STUFFS BC IM OFF SCHOOL FOR THIS WEEK

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ruewrote · 29 days ago

Text

𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒.

PAIRING: josh washington x fem!reader WARNINGS: death, no use of y/n GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: i love you by billie eilish WORD COUNT: 807 REQUESTED: yes NOTE: had to go off canon with this one

navigation | ask | josh washington masterlist

the world had never seemed so dark, so cold, so utterly indifferent to the horror unraveling before your eyes.

you and josh were supposed to escape this together. he'd promised you. he was going to make it right. but here you stood, forced to watch everything fall apart, and mike was the only one keeping you from completely shattering.

josh's screams had already faded into the abyss below, his body thrown into the darkness by the creature that once called him brother. the wendigo. those cursed beings had claimed him, the way his body twisted and writhed, it wasn’t supposed to end like this.

not for him. not for you.

your breath caught in your throat, chest heaving violently as you struggled to suppress the scream that clawed its way up from your lungs. you wanted to cry out, to call for him, to beg for some kind of miracle that would pull him back from the brink. but mike's hand, firm, unyielding, clamped over your mouth. muffling any sound that could betray your hiding place. his other arm pulled you close, trying to ground you as you trembled uncontrollably.

"stay quiet, or we’re all dead," mike whispered harshly in your ear, his voice low and strained. you could feel his own panic, though he tried to keep it under control. the lodge was a death trap now. every moment that passed was a countdown to the end.

your eyes burned with tears as the image of josh’s broken body burned into your mind. it played on repeat, how he reached for you, the pain in his eyes, the way his lips moved in what should have been your name before he was gone. and now, you were left with nothing but that hollow, soul-crushing silence.

they managed to get to the basement, hiding in the darkness, waiting for the right moment. the others were whispering hurried plans, scrambling to figure out how to make it out alive. but you weren’t there anymore. not really. your mind was trapped with josh, beneath the lodge, buried in the ash and snow.

somehow, in the chaos, you found yourself standing at the breaker switch, the final solution, the only way to end it all.

mike’s voice cracked through your haze, pleading with you to follow him, to leave the lodge before it was too late. but your feet remained rooted to the floor.

"we need to go. now!" he urged, pulling at your arm. but you barely registered his words.

you knew what needed to happen. the fire, the destruction, it was the only way to stop the wendigos. to keep anyone else from suffering the same fate as josh. but you couldn’t leave him here. not after everything you’d been through.

"i’m staying," you whispered, finally speaking for the first time since josh had…since it all fell apart.

mike froze, staring at you as if you’d just ripped the air from his lungs. "no. no, you’re not doing this. come on, we can still make it out–"

you shook your head, the tears falling freely now. "i’m not leaving him."

his grip tightened on your arm, desperate. "don’t be stupid! this isn’t what he would’ve wanted. he wanted you safe. he…"

the words died on his lips as he saw the resolve in your eyes. there was no convincing you. no saving you from the choice you had already made.

"come on." his voice was desperate.

but you couldn’t hear him anymore.

"you need to go, mike," you said quietly, your voice unnervingly calm amidst the chaos.

he hesitated, eyes darting between you and the switch, the fire already creeping closer. "i’m not leaving you here."

"yes, you are," you said firmly, pushing him toward the exit. "please, just… get out."

mike's face twisted in anguish, but he knew he couldn’t force you to leave. he clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to pull you with him. but you were determined. and so was he. "i’m sorry," he choked out before turning on his heel and running toward the exit.

you watched him disappear, your heart aching as the weight of your choice settled over you. but this was the only way.

the switch felt heavy beneath your trembling fingers, but it clicked easily as you flipped it, the hum of electricity sparking to life. the lodge creaked ominously as the seconds stretched into eternity.

you stayed there, standing alone in the center of the room as the fire began to consume the walls around you, swallowing everything in its path. you closed your eyes, imagining josh beside you, his hand in yours. you didn’t care about the flames licking at your skin, or the smoke filling your lungs.

you were going to be with him soon.

for the first time since this nightmare began, you weren’t afraid.

comments and reblogs are appreciated ˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ @writing-fanics

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beomiracles · 13 days ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 kinktober day 31

DREAM RECALL “Do you know what happened to the boy who cried wolf?” He asks, letting the question linger on his lips, moving in and out of you slowly as he awaits your response. You shake your head, slowly swallowing. — Yeonjun smirks, a smirk so wide that his sharp fangs dug into his bottom lip. “The wolf eats him.”

wc -> 8.7k (horribly proofread, means not proofread at all)

pairings supernatural!txt x fem!reader warnings um. everything. dark content, and I mean it. multiple threesomes, heavy dub con/coercion, multiple creampies, unprotected sex, biting, marking, rough manhandling, prey/predator dynamics, anal (f.rec), very little prep at times, throatfucking, facial, reader gets passed around, beomgyu is mean and a menace, softdom!taehyun, softdom!kai, dom!soobin, mean/hard dom!beomgyu, softdom!yeonjun, major character death, implied cannibalism? (sort of, I mean they're not really human but..) hair pulling, reader is lowkey terrefied for half this fic, also half of this is pure filth, um yes dark content cough.

#serene adds ✎ good evening. LMFAO. no. seriously. I um, have been working in this all day because it was at a solid 2k this morning and um, here we are. but I got it out on the 31st (for me) so that's a win in my books, seriously didn't think I was gonna make it. this isn't proofread, I wrote it and I posted, catch a spelling mistake and you close your goddamn eyes. I don't want to know about stuff like that. um is the story its based on obvious or not? let me know !! and also, read the warnings carefully please and thank you, if I've missed anything feel free to let me know :3 now I am declaring celibacy and I won't ever write smut again ! #kinktober killed me

EVENT POST

“And then, she ventured to the dwarves' house disguised as a peddler.” You lean in, the warm fire caressing your face and illuminating the sinister grin on your lips. “But not just any peddler, no, she sold lace, lace corsets.” Your eyes flicker over the confused expressions of your friends, some having frowns dented into their foreheads, but they were all listening keenly.

“Of course, as a naive and young girl, Snow White let her inside.” You lean back, hands clasping together over your knees. Around you, darkness lingers. It creeps around the edges of the fire you’d ignited, desperately trying to get closer, to swallow you whole. “Snow White lets the Evil Queen wrap her in lace, and the Evil Queen wraps it tight.” You point to your own torso, portraying the tight corset, clawing at your ribs.

“Snow White can’t breathe, in fact she can barely move.” Your voice turns from dramatic to gloomy, “She can only watch, watch as the Evil Queen steps out, leaving her for dead.” — “That’s not how the story goes!” One of your friends interrupts, and you turn to him with a grimace. “Well, if you’d let me finish Brian, you would’ve known that the dwarves brought her back to life when they found her, by undoing the tight corset”, you sneer.

“But that wasn’t in the book?” Lily suddenly quips from your left, her lips pursed in the same annoyingly know-it-all manner. With the small roll of your eyes, you reach for a stick, using it to poke at the slowly dying fire. “Well, that’s because you’ve only read the children's version”, you mutter, a bitter taste in your mouth, “in the real story, the Evil Queen tries to kill Snow White three times.”

Brian interrupts once more, the frown on his face nearly permanent now. “But that doesn’t make any sense, why would Snow White fall for the same tricks over and over?” — “Besides, it would only drag out the entire story telling”, he states as a matter-of-factly. You groan, running a tired hand over your face. “That’s because you don’t know how to build tension, it’s no fun if she only tries to kill her once, you have to amplify it by including multiple attempts.”

Lily huffs, shaking her head like she’d heard enough. Then she rises to her feet, announcing that she was heading to bed. — “Careful”, you say, causing her to freeze in her tracks as she turns to you with a questioning look. “Don’t you know that there are wolves in these woods?” You grin, eyes trailing her with a humorous glint. She scoffs, waving a dismissing hand as she brushes you off, “I’m sure they’re starving.”

With that, she ventures off to her own tent, leaving the rest of you to watch the weakening fire as the darkness around you crept closer.

⸝⸝

“Do you really think that there are wolves here?” Kian asks as the two of you scour the thick forest in search of more branches for the fire. The question doesn’t come as a surprise. He’d been walking on needles practically all evening. You knew that he was a coward, so it surprised you when he agreed on joining in for this trip. — “Sure, why wouldn’t there be?” You shrug, trying your hardest to conceal your amusement when he audibly swallows, eyes darting around the dark tree stems.

“Yeah but they.. They don’t eat people? Right?” He wonders, hands nervously fiddling with flashlight, causing its light to bounce off the claw-like arms of the trees. “Don’t be an idiot, Kian”, you huff, gathering as much firewood as possible in your arms. — “R-Right, sorry”, he murmurs, his cheeks tinted a light pink as he clears his throat. “And even if they did, I’m sure you don’t rank high on their list”, you say, the teasing edge to your voice managing to lighten the mood somewhat.

You continue to gather materials in silence. Working to get done as fast as possible, eager to return to the warm and inviting fire. The scattered branches crack under your weight, but besides that, nothing. It’s quiet, far too quiet, the sounds of nature seemingly muted. Almost like there was something out there, something even nature itself feared, and so it hid in silence. The thought makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand, and you desperately try to shake it off.

Your attention turns to Kian, who seems just as miserable, if not worse. A sly smirk tugs at your lips.

“Wait.” Your voice rings out, piercing the heavy air and your friend immediately freezes. “What?” His head snaps in your direction, fear clouding his eyes and you have to bite back a chuckle. Instead, you swallow, bottom lip stuck out into a pout as you glance around. “Did you hear that?” — “Hear what?” Kian sounds panicked now, the flashlight in his hand trembling as he frantically searches for any evident danger.

Your gaze drifts to somewhere behind him. There’s only darkness, an eternal and dreadful darkness. But he doesn’t have to know that. — With a nearly ear piercing shriek, you stumble backward. “Oh my god! Behind you!” You point a shaking finger in that very direction and Kian pathetically falls to the ground with a loud scream. He keeps yelling for help as he tears his way through the mud and dirt, running from a faceless monster.

The sight makes you double over in laughter as you drop half the branches you’d gathered. And only when he’s calmed down enough to make out your excitement over his own fear, does he realize his mistake. — “That was not funny!” He shouts, and his voice trembles just as much as he does. You shake your head, wiping away imaginary tears as you watch him gingerly get up. “Oh but it was!” You exclaim, “You should’ve seen your face!”

Kian huffs out a frustrated breath, dusting off his jeans as he picks up the flashlight he’d dropped. He turns to you with a small scowl, but it does nothing to simmer down the laughter bubbling within you.

“I hope those wolves get you next”, he seethes, before turning on his heel and walking off, leaving you in the dark.

⸝⸝

It’s far into the cold and dark night when the final participants of your small group head for their tents. Unlike Lily, joined by Brian who’d turned in early, the remainder of you had stayed by the fire, taking turns telling chilling tales, none of which were real, of course. Though you’d given your best in trying to scare the others by mentioning the supposed wolves stalking the gloomy forest. Because if there was anything scarier than horror stories, it was the real dangers of the outside world.

Kian, on the other hand, hadn’t spoken a word to you since you returned to camp. You figured he might still be upset over your small and harmless prank. Though far too tired to deal with it tonight, you decide to confront it in the morning. — To your fortune, you were to share a tent with Lei, who at least seemed willing to talk to you.

As the two of you settle inside your warm sleeping bags, she turns to you. “Do you really think we’re safe in here?” The question catches you off guard, sure why wouldn’t you be? People camped in this forest all the time. Right? — “Why, did those children’s stories scare you?” You can’t help the teasing tone of your voice, wiggling your eyebrows in a taunting manner as you watch her face scrunch up in disgust.

“Of course not”, she huffs, pulling the blanket over her chest, “It’s just…The nearest town is an hour away, what if something happens?” — It’s with a bitter taste in your mouth that you consider the fact that she might be right. Help was far away, should anything happen. But who says it would?

“We’ll be fine”, you shrug, flopping down onto your pillow as you get comfortable. “You think?” Lei whispers as she, too, prepares to sleep. You yawn, breathing out a low, “mhm.”

A brief silence follows after that, the sounds of your friends, shuffling about in their own tents slowly dying out. All that’s left is the quiet sounds of night, leaves rustling followed by the occasional creek of tree branches as they give way to the wind. — You think Lei might have fallen asleep, but the erratic pattern of her breathing gives her away.

“I mean, any kind of danger is unlikely to show up at our doorstep”, you then add in a sleepy voice. “Unless…” You trail off, seemingly lost in thought, but the word is left hanging in the air and you soon hear Lei shifting in her sleeping bag as she turns to you. — “Unless what?” She whispers, sounding almost urgent. In the dim light, she’s unable to catch the menacing grin on your lips as you say:

“Unless you go looking for it.”

⸝⸝

You’d always considered yourself a heavy sleeper. And most nights would pass you by without a single disturbance. You rarely dreamt either. — So when you’re suddenly jolted awake, sweat clinging to your entire body and your breathing labored, you knew that something was wrong. It takes you a moment to regain your bearings, fingers curling against the flimsy material of your sleeping bag as your head whips in the direction of Lei. She’s still sleeping soundly, like there wasn’t a single fault in the world.

Confused, you glance around the small tent. But everything seemed to be in order. Weird. Oh come on, were you seriously acting paranoid right now? That was Kian’s job. With a small, half-hearted huff, you prepare to lie back down, when suddenly, a voice, somewhere outside, calls for you. — You know that it’s you it calls for, because why else would it use your name. Your mind works overtime as you try and pair the low and almost animalistic drawl of their tongue with one of your friends. But you couldn’t.

Maybe, you were hearing things, maybe you’d finally gone crazy. No, you shake your head, eyes drifting to your fingers as they twiddle with the zipper of your sleeping bag. But the voice doesn’t give up, and when it calls for you a third time, you finally get up. — You don’t feel fear, only anger. Which one of your idiot friends decided that it was a good idea to pull a prank such as this, at such an hour.

Yanking the tent open, you crawl out. The night is chilly against your down-dressed body, and the thin undershirt and pants you wore suddenly did little to warm you. With your arms around your chest, you stumble past the other closed tents. There was no one here. You frown, peering out into the dark as you search for whoever had called you. Then your mind suddenly pieces together the evening’s events. Kian.

With gritted teeth you storm toward his tent. But as your fingers clasp around the zipper to the opening, the voice calls out once more. This time it’s louder, still raspy, and almost…inhumane, but you can clearly make out the syllables of your name. — It’s coming from the forest. Alright, that’s it. If Kian wanted to get back at you, then you’d let him.

After scurrying back to your own tent and fetching a flashlight, you turn to the dark and gloomy forest. And with only one thing in mind, you cross the barrier taking you into the eerie woods.

“Kian!”

Your voice echoes off the tree branches, and the leaves crunch beneath the sole of your shoes with each step you take. The flashlight provides a narrow and minimal view, but you follow it thoroughly, intent on not getting lost. — “Kian, I swear to god, you could’ve done this in the morning!” But there’s never a response. Your empty threats of beheading your friend linger in the thick and quiet air.

It’s only when you stop, taking a moment to check your surroundings with the use of your shit piece of light, that you realize just how quiet it actually is. Apart from the heavy steps of your own feet, there was nothing. The menacing hurl of the wind, gone. The rustle of leaves, vanished. Wildlife, nonexistent. — You were all alone, and when that realization dawned on you, it became clear that Kian had never come out here in the first place.

So who called you?

There’s a slight shift in the air, it grows from thick and dense, heavy with anticipation, to loud and almost dangerous, as if the very forest was trying to alert you of something. And in the distance, in the dark, almost blended together with the trees. A pair of red eyes linger. — Your heart sinks all the way down to your stomach. Something was out there, and that something knew that you were there too.

An animal of some sort, it must be. But what? You didn’t want to find out. Instead, you take a small step back, the crackling of leaves is deafening and you swallow a small cry. You can’t tell if those red eyes are coming closer, the uncertainty puts you on edge. But a rustle to your left garners your attention. Your head jerks in its direction only to be met by the exact same sight.

Another pair of red eyes.

Two? You shake your head, that was impossible, and what kind of animal had red eyes? You were seeing things, you must be. Another rustle, and another pair of eyes, this time to your right. Three?

This time you can tell they’re creeping closer, slowly, as if sizing you up. You point your flashlight in their direction, swinging it like a sword, as if you stood any chance against whatever lurked in these woods. You take another step back, and soon the eyes are given a materialized form.

Your jaw slacks, and if you thought that fear was about to consume you before, it was nothing against the bucket of ice cold water just poured over you. — Wolves. Actual and real wolves. But that was… “Impossible”, you breathe, “there are no wolves in these woods.” You blink, shaking your head, praying that this was all a bad dream.

They were big, bigger than any you’d ever seen before. Their fur is dark and ruffled, torn in places, roughed up from living out in such harsh conditions. The one up front, a dark gray, bares its sharp teeth, a low growl rumbling from its chest as it creeps forward. Their ears are pointed back, and they move with slow and calculated steps, as if circling their prey. The brown ones either side of you draw in closer as well.

You shout for them to stay back, desperately flashing the light in the bright and fiery eyes. But nothing seems to work. Terrified, you stumble backward, only to trip over a snare and lose balance. — You hit the ground with a loud thud, but before you can get up, a warm puff of air hits the back of your head. You don’t have to turn around, you already know what’s waiting behind you. A fourth. Another one, just like the ones before you.

There must be a way out. After all, they’re just animals. There had to be a way to outsmart them, to get ahead. Remaining frozen for a few seconds, you find that the wolf behind you makes no move to attack. Why? Why did it hesitate? — You didn’t care, you saw your opportunity and took it.

Leaves fly everywhere as you scramble to your feet, pointing the bright light in the eyes of the wolf before you. It’s so close that the flashlight momentarily blinds it, opening up your escape route. — From there, you run. You run until your legs feel as if they are about to bend in half, you run until your thighs ache, until your calves burn and until your chest physically hurts.

You can’t see, even with the light gripped tightly in one hand, your field of vision is limited. You scream, yell, cry out for help. “Wolves!” — “There’s wolves!” Your faint pleas are disregarded by the menacing forest, and its darkness seems eternal. Branches whip at your face, thorns cutting the thin layer of clothes you wore, your shoes drenched in a thick layer of mud.

How long have you been running for? Shouldn’t you be back at camp by now? Had it not been for the sounds of leaves rustling behind you, indicating that the wolves were still following, you’d probably been on the ground long ago. But you had to keep going. There was no way you could give up now.

Then you see it. Light, warm and inviting, a flicker of hope. You cling to it, upping your pace as you call out once more. “Help! Please help me!” The closer you get, the brighter the light shines, and the bigger your hopes grow. You can make out a figure, it’s dark shadow standing in stark contrast to the warm fire burning.

As you approach, you realize that it’s…a cave. Hesitation clouds you, but only for a moment. Then the terrifying dangers of your situation all come crashing down on you. With a final call for help, you burst into the cave. — “Please help me..” You don’t even realize you’re crying, heavy tears flowing down your cheeks as you cling to the stranger, face buried in their chest.

The feeling of strong arms around you sends a wave of relief through your trembling body as the person holds you tight. “O-Oh my god…You have to help me.. There w-wolves out there!” You sob, fingers clawing at their shirt. Just as the words leave your lips, do you hear it, the sounds of their approach. They were coming. You quickly grow desperate as you cling to the figure, a man, a tall man. “Please, please, we have to go!”

Your head jerks toward the opening of the cave just in time to see the four wolves entering, and they look ready to eat you whole. “Oh my god we’re going to die, we…” Your words get caught in your throat as you catch the soft chuckle, rumbling deep within the man's chest.

“There are indeed wolves in these woods”, he then says, his voice is a low, almost animalistic drawl, and you immediately recognize it. It was the voice who’d called for you. Finally you look up, only to be met with a pair of equally red eyes, though these belonged to a human. His dark and ruffled hair reminds you of the fur of those wolves, and the small cut along his chin seems far too uncanny.

“But you already knew that didn’t you? Isn’t that what you’ve been telling your friends all night.” He says, lips tugging into a sinister smirk as he watches the color drain from your face. “Say, where are they now?” — It was as if all air had been sucked from your chest, your whole body going rigid as you remained frozen in place.

The man laughs, a cruel and raspy laugh. He shakes his head, “Are you familiar with the saying ‘to cry wolf’?” He then asks, tongue darting out to drag across his bottom lip, and in the warm glow of the fire, you catch the sharp fangs resting in his mouth. Whatever this man was, it was not human. — Quietly you shake your head, the phrase sounded familiar but your mind was far too scrambled to ever make a connection.

He doesn’t seem bothered by this, in fact he seems to enjoy the process of dragging your inevitable fate out even longer. — His breath is warm against your face as he leans down, and his arms around your body no longer feel safe, but like they could kill you. “Means one too many lies might seal your fate”, he drawls, the sentence hanging in the thick and heavy air.

You don’t have time to ponder his words, for another voice shatters the brief silence. “Alright, that’s enough. You’ve had your fun Yeonjun, let us have a go now.” — Your head immediately jerks in the direction of the four wolves…except, they weren’t wolves anymore. The one who’d previously spoken up, approaches, the dark brown hair on his head falling down his neck and the sides of his face in an uneven mess.

Yeonjun scoffs, his arms around you tightening their hold as he shoves you against his chest. “I’ve barely gotten started”, he snaps, “You’ll get your turn, Beomgyu.” — Beomgyu rolls his eyes, seemingly displeased with the other’s answer as he takes another step forward, only to be stopped by a much taller one. His hair was as black as the night sky itself, and the red in his eyes seemed a lot cooler than the fiery one of his friend. “Don’t be an idiot”, he sneers, “as if you’re getting a taste before me.”

Beomgyu gives the taller a harsh shove, a scowl crossing his features. “Fuck off”, he spits. Next to you, Yeonjun chuckles, “Listen to Soobin, won’t you? Don’t you know that the elders eat first?” — Their conversation made your stomach draw into knots, you had walked right into their trap, without even knowing it. Everything had been planned, down to the very, detail, and you had just let it happen.

“That’s not fair!” The gray haired one objects as he takes a step forward. “I found her.” — “So what?” Beomgyu turns to him with a grimace, “You wanna play finders keepers? Because that’s fucking childish, Taehyun.” — The frown on Taehyun’s face morphs into one of pure rage as he takes a charging step forward, and he would’ve collided with Beomgyu, had it not been for the fifth one who cut in between the two.

“At this rate, the sun will rise before we’ve even come to a decision”, he growls, easily shoving them apart as his red eyes flicker over to you. — Yeonjun hums, his fingers splayed across the back of your head as he keeps you close. “Then let’s hear Kai’s suggestion”, he says, his voice laced with a fabricated hint of intrigue.

Kai shrugs, an almost apathetic look striking his features, the soft brown on his hair made him look far more approachable than his peers. “I say we share.” His simple statement is followed by groans and complaints from the others, all but Yeonjun, who quietly hums to himself. — “I’ve heard humans are quite flexible”, he then adds as he takes another step forward, eyes sizing you up as his hand reaches for you.

But he never manages to touch you, for Yeonjun pulls back with a small hiss. The once nonchalant and almost soft look of his eyes immediately vanishes as Kai’s entire demeanor changes. “Come on, don’t be greedy”, he huffs, taking another step forward and this time, he’s followed by the others.

It doesn’t take long for Yeonjun to realize that he’s outnumbered and with a frustrated groan, he loosens his grip on you. Your legs feel as though they might give out any second now, but you remain standing. Eyes darting around the cave, you search for a way out, you didn’t know what these creatures were, and you didn’t care to find out either, all you knew was that you had to get away. And with Yeonjun letting you go, you saw an opportunity.

Your footsteps echo off the damp cave walls as you tear yourself from his loose grasp, sprinting toward the opening. You don’t make it far until something hard crashes into you from behind, another person. — Groaning you blink as you spit the dirt from your mouth, fingers helplessly clawing at the ground as you will yourself to move forward. But the weight of someone else on top of you makes it impossible.

Long hair tickles the sides of your face and you shiver as you feel a hot tongue slide against the shell of your ear. Beomgyu’s voice comes out a breathless laugh as he says: “Got you.” — Your scream fills the cave as he flips you over, caging you against the cold and hard stoned surface. His hands move feverishly along your sides, pushing your already torn undershirt up above your stomach, causing goosebumps to ripple across your skin.

But before he can get any further, he’s stopped by Taehyun as he shoves him off of you. “Sorry about that”, he flashes you an apologetic smile, sharp fangs glinting in the warm light of the fire. The second scream about to rip from your throat gets caught there as he scoops you into his arms, barely managing to dodge Beomgyu as he launches after him.

He sets you down near the fire, ignoring the complaints of both Kai and Soobin as they argue on taking you deeper into the dark and cold cave. Taehyun shakes his head, “She’ll freeze if we do that”, he mutters, “Don’t you know that human bodies are weak?” — “What so you’re saying we should attend to her every need now?” Beomgyu snarls as he joins Taehyun next to you. “She’s going to end up as dinner anyway, I don’t see the big deal”, he huffs.

Taehyun rolls his eyes as his hands caress the sides of your arms, the movement is surprisingly gentle and he quickly manages to warm your frozen body up. You gulp as your eyes flicker between their small exchange. — “It’s more a respect kind of thing”, Taehyun explains, “besides, it’ll feel better this way.” His red eyes snap over to yours, desire swirling in the depths of crimson. “You want us to make you feel good, don’t you?” He then asks, fingers hovering above the hem of your thin pants.

Confused, your lips part, and your nervous gaze darts across the cave. Yeonjun and Soobin linger by the shadows, and had it not been for their glowing eyes, you probably would’ve missed them. Kai on the other hand, sits not far from Beomgyu as he watches you with an almost clouded expression. — Your heart rams against your chest, your whole body has been on high alert for so long that you were bound to collapse at any given moment.

Shouldn't they have killed you already? Torn you to pieces, buried you alive? Who are these creatures and what did they want from you? The question in itself is hardly up for debate and you swallow thickly, hands digging into the uneven layer of dirt and stone beneath you. Make you feel good? What did that mean? — In any case, it couldn’t be much worse than death, could it?

Slowly, you nod. And the smirk that stretches across Taehyun’s lips makes a chill slither up your spine. The grip around your arms suddenly becomes firm, but not enough to hurt. “You’ll help us, won’t you?” He drawls, gaze flitting down your sparsely dressed body. “We’ll make you feel good in return.” You didn’t know what his words meant, but you didn’t want to find out what gruesome fate might await you, should you deny them. So you nod once more, uttering a meek, “yes.”

The smirk plastered on his face only widens as Taehyun presses his warm lips against your cold neck. Your eyes shoot open, hands coming to rest atop his shoulders as you try to push him back, but it was to no use. And soon you feel a warm body joining him as Beomgyu snuck up behind you, his hungry fingers sliding across your sides as Taehyun tugs your leggings down.

“W-Wait, what’s going…going on?” You stammer, thighs clamping shut around Taehyun’s hand as it slithers between them, fingers insistently pushing against your panties. Were they not about to kill you? Tear your limbs apart and rip your chest open? Why were they.. Your train of thought is interrupted by Taehyun who shoves your panties to the side, pushing two slender fingers inside your unprepared cunt.

The shrill whine you emit, echoes off the cavern walls and your back arches off of Beomgyu’s chest as his hands, locked over your hips, keep you in place. His breath is warm against your neck, long hair tickling you as he presses wet kisses to your shoulder, fervently tugging your shirt down.

Taehyun has leaned back enough to where he can clearly watch as his fingers slide between your folds. His thumb on your clit sends a small jolt through your body and your stomach flutters. “More?” He suddenly asks, the question coming out as a low growl and before you can consider his next words, you find yourself nodding.

Without hesitating, he adds a third finger, shoving them as far as they would go, intent on pulling as many lewd sounds from you as possible. — Behind you, Beomgyu groans, his hands digging into the bone of your hips with a force that was bound to bruise. The outline of his hard cock brushes against your lower back and you shudder as your eyes screw shut. “You’re too slow”, he snarls to which Taehyun shoots him a hateful glare.

Your head weakly turns in the direction of the others. Soobin and Yeonjun remain hidden in the shadows, the sight of their red eyes piercing through the dark. You can hear them talking, and though you can’t pick up on the conversation taking place, it wasn’t particularly hard to guess as their glowing eyes trailed every inch of your body. — Kai had shifted even closer, his jaw clenched as his gaze strayed by Taehyun’s fingers working your soft cunt open.

You yelp when Beomgyu suddenly shifts behind you, the sounds of fabric being torn filling the dark space as he tears your panties off. “Enough”, he growls, finally making Taehyun back off as he withdraws his now soaked fingers from your throbbing core. — Confused, you turn to look at him, only to be stopped by Taehyun as his hand clasps around your chin. “Forget about him”, he jeers, nudging your thighs open to make room for himself between them.

“Give her here”, he barks, arm snaking around your waist as he tugs you from Beomgyu’s grasp. You barely manage to process what’s happening until you’re seated on his lap, your leggings discarded in the process. The cool air makes you shiver, the fire next to you doing little to ease the biting chill of the night. — You find Taehyun already looking at you, one arm possessively wrapped around your torso whilst the other one works on undoing the pants he wore.

Another pair of hands join in, Beomgyu, you think to yourself, as he lifts you enough for Taehyun to slide the head of his cock against your dripping cunt. You whimper, fingers digging into his broad shoulders as you bite your tongue. Embarrassment and shame creeps up your neck, painting your face a bright read as you force yourself to look away from the prying eyes around you. The others don’t seem to mind, as if this was normal to them.

With one deliberate thrust, Taehyun eases himself inside of you, groaning when you immediately clench down around him. — “How is she?” Kai’s voice suddenly breaks the momenteral silence, and Taehyun cracks an eye open, though not bothering to even glance in the direction of his friend. “Perfect. Fucking perfect”, he states, eyes hungirly roaming your exposed neck before leaning in to drag his sharp teeth against the skin there.

“Bet she’s just as perfect from behind”, Beomgyu comments, and the words make you go cold. Craning your head to peer his way, you find him already jerking himself off, thick cock sliding between his fingers as he coats himself in his own arousal. — Your eyes widen when you realize just exactly what he’s planning, quickly shaking your head as you turn back to Taehyun with a pleading expression.

He returns your helpless call with a small grin, not bothering to tear himself from your neck as he assaults it with his lips, leaving all kinds of red hues in his wake. “You said you’d help us, didn’t you?” He murmurs, as if reminding you of an oath you’d pledged to. You didn’t know what would happen if you refused, the thought in itself scared you more than the creature behind you as he aligned himself with your ass.

Letting your head fall to his shoulder, you screw your eyes shut, fingers tearing Taehyun’s shirt apart when Beomgyu pushed inside your tight hole without warning. — “Fuck”, he exhales, the warmth of his breath sliding down the side of your face before he presses a kiss to your cheek. “She really is perfect”, he muses, large hands feeling up your chest before he slowly begins to move.

Their thrusts were uncoordinated and unsynced. When paired with the blaring pain Beomgyu caused, and the nearly unbearably stretch of Taehyun’s cock inside your cunt; you weren’t sure of how long you were going to last. — Above their heavy panting, you catch the soft groan Kai emits as he, too, jerks himself off to the sight before him.

You whimper when Beomgyu’s fingers pinch your nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt, moaning as Taehyun applies pressure to your fluttering clit. They’re both kissing and biting at your neck, making sure to not leave a single spot unharmed. It felt almost as if you were being torn in half as Beomgyu yanked you backward with each thrust up your ass, meanwhile Taehyun tugged you forward as his cock twitched deep inside of your cunt.

“Quit being greedy”, Beomgyu snarls as his arm wraps around your abdomen, pulling you flush against his chest. Taehyun huffs out a short breath as his hips jerk forward, hands grabbing at your hips to keep you close. — With one final thrust he releases inside of your already sore cunt, making sure to fuck his cum back into you deliberately as the soft his of a curse passes his lips. His grip on your waist becomes momentarily weakened and Beomgyu seizes the opportunity as he pulls you into his own lap, slamming your ass down on his thick cock.

You practically scream at the burning intrusion as your thighs twitch on top of his. Taehyun runs a lazy hand through his hair as he tucks himself back into his pants, eyes trained to the way your tits bounced beneath the fabric of his shirt. — The feeling of sharp fangs, prodding against the already bruised skin of your neck, makes you spiral as Beomgyu threatens to pierce right through your beating arteries.

You’ve stopped caring for the others, their gloomy and watchful gazes mean nothing when all you can think about is the pleasurable burn, spreading through your body like wildfire. Beomgyu’s touches were nothing like Taehyun’s, there was not an ounce of tenderness, for he didn’t seem to hold that trait.

He stills inside of you, the warmth of his release spreading inside of you as he cums with a strangled groan. Unlike Taehyun, he makes no move to preserve it further, instead he pulls out, and before you know it, you’re back where you started, on the cold and dirty ground. — Your whole body aches, it feels like you’ve run a marathon, perhaps such a thing would’ve been easier. But before you can get up, Taehyun’s by your side again.

His slender fingers are gentle as he hoists you into his arms, sending a small glare in the direction of Beomgyu. “She won’t last if you treat her like that”, he argues, cradling your nearly limp body to his chest. When he doesn’t receive a reply, Taehyun’s attention returns to you as he brushes a few strands of hair from your face. “You’re perfect”, he whispers, and though his words were likely meant to reassure you, it gave an opposite effect. But you liked Taehyun, he wasn’t as rough as the others had been.

Though your peace was short lived, because only moments later, another set of hands came grabbing at you. “My turn”, Kai’s voice is eager, bubbling with excitement as Taehyun hesitantly hands you over, like you were a piece of meat, and Kai accepts you with open arms. — His embrace is…surprisingly warm, soft. When peering up at him through your lashes, you find him smiling down at you, but there was something slightly off about the way his lips pulled into a grin. Something you couldn’t quite place.

He kisses your forehead, the action just as sweet as the rest of his demeanor. Only when the sounds of approaching footsteps reach your ears, do you tense, and so does he. The looming presence of someone else makes you shiver, and you don’t dare turn your head to see who it was, clinging to Kai as your last string of hope. — “What?” He huffs, but receives no answer from the newcomer as they crouch down next to him.

“Weren’t you the one to suggest that we share?” Soobin’s gloomy voice echoes off the damp cave walls and you watch as Kai’s expression morphs into a small scowl. “Or did that not apply to you?” He then continues, a large hand reaching up to caress the back of your head. — Kai mutters a few short sentences of incoherent murmur before finally budging.

“But I want her this time”, he quickly adds, his voice coming out snappy. Soobin raises a dark brow in the younger’s direction. — “It’s only fair”, he whines, “I didn’t get any last time.” His once tender grip on your exhausted body turns into an almost possessive one as Kai tugs you against his chest.

Soobin seems to be considering his words for a brief moment before giving in with a reluctant sigh, settling back on the ground opposite you as he gets comfortable. Kai on the other hand, wastes no time in pressing his face against the juncture of your neck, inhaling your scent with a satisfied hum. His hands wandered down your body, not caring for the way you flinched as his fingers dipped between your legs.

Gathering the remnants of your arousal, mixed with the release of both Taehyun and Beomgyu, Kai shoves those very fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you. “More”, he exhales, his free hand already stroking his hard cock, it was flushed a deep red, the tip on the verge of turning purple and you wondered how long he’d edged himself for whilst watching you.

You whimper in slight protests as he lifts your tired body from his lap, fat cock sliding against your already sensitive cunt, still on the brink of the orgasm you never reached. — Somewhere behind you, Beomgyu and Taehyun shuffled about as they got comfortable by the fire, their red and gloomy eyes never leaving you. Yeonjun remained in the shadows, his lingering presence casting the already dark cave in an eerie glow.

Soobin on the other hand, is lazily palming himself through the worn out jeans he wore, eyes focused on the way Kai slowly slid inside your fluttering cunt. Your soft moan is swallowed by his lips on your own, and your eyes widen, surprised by the intimacy of him initiating a kiss. — A kiss that was very quickly broken by a hand on the back of your head. Soobin’s fingers curl around your hair as he yanks you back, forcing the two of you apart as Kai whines in disapproval.

“We don’t do that. Remember?” Soobin grunts, and he’s now looming above you, dark gaze staring you down. — Kai grunts out a short response of “I know”, his attention returning to your neck as he continues to suck at the already red skin, hips stuttering up into your cunt that clenched around him with each thrust.

You whimper in surprise as large fingers hook around the hem of your shirt. Soobin takes his time, slowly ripping the garment apart as he tears it from your chest. The cool falls across you like a blanket, goosebumps rising on your round tits as your nipples harden under the low temperatures. His hands are on your body within seconds, feeling up every inch of you, squeezing the soft flesh of your chest, rolling your nipples between his fingers. His touches are gentle, nothing at all like Beomgyu’s harsh tugs and you find yourself slowly relaxing.

But letting your guard down was never a good idea. And soon, Soobin’s hand had traveled all the way to your face, locking around your chin as he tilted your head up. Your eyes widen as they’re met with the sight of his cock, only inches from your already open mouth. — You swallow, trying not to consider the sheer size of it as Soobin shoves his tip against your lips, smearing the pre-cum that had spilled from the slit all over your face.

You resist a small gag as he slides himself into your hot mouth, your tongue caressing the thick veins pulsing around his shaft as he practically tore your jaw open. — A harsh thrust delivered by Kai makes you whine as you stutter around Soobin’s cock, accidently taking him even deeper, causing him to groan above you as his hand slides down the back of your head.

“F-Fuck, you really are perfect”, Kai breathes, sweat clinging to his forehead as his hand lays splayed across your stomach, pressing down hard enough to where he can feel the outline of his cock pumping in and out of you. — You can barely see through the tears pooling in your eyes as Soobin continues to fuck your throat, forcing you to take him so deep that you thought you might be sick.

Yet you find yourself reaching out, searching for something to hold onto, your hands landing on Kai’s shoulders. He groans as he feels your nails digging into his skin, tongue dragging across your collarbones as he sucks red marks on to your chest, continuing the pattern left by Beomgyu and Taehyun. The two were currently watching you intently, Beomgyu lazily stroking himself as he whispers something only for Taehyun to hear, and Taehyun grimaces at whatever was being said though he doesn't make any further comment on it.

Even though you couldn’t see him, you could feel Yeonjun’s presence, lingering by the outskirts of everything taking place, watching from afar. The mere thought of him made your blood run cold. Instead you try to focus on relaxing, unclenching your jaw as you let Soobin use your throat as he pleases. Every twitch of his large cock on your tongue made you gag, but there was little room for any protests and so you endured.

His hand in your hair keeps you in place, your neck bent at his will. The erratic rhythm of his hips, once force and harsh, turn sloppy and almost lazy. With a small hiss he pulls back, just enough to where his tip rests on your tongue as thick ropes of cum coats your waiting mouth. Your eyes screw shut as he tilts your head down, coating your cheeks in his release, making the heavy liquid mix with your tears as it slides down your cheeks.

The salty aftertaste lingers on your tongue as you with a trembling hand wipe your lips. Not bothering to tend to you further, Soobin steps back to join the others by the other side of the fire. Your eyes follow his retreating figure, confused by his sudden dismissal, but Kai’s strained groan as he fucks up into you, quickly snaps your attention back to him.

His eyes are bleary, glazed over in adoration as he peers up at you. “You’re so pretty”, he sighs, “the prettiest one yet.” You didn’t know what he meant by that, you figured it was best not to ask. You remain silent, biting your tongue as you feel your orgasm approach for a second time that night. — Kai wasn’t late to catch on, his fingers moving down to where your bodies joined, thumb pressing against your throbbing clit.

The tears you had just managed to stop, resurfaced in an instant as you clung to him. It didn’t take long for you to finally tip over the edge, your mind spiraling as your cunt clenched around Kai’s cock with a newfound vigor. You hear him groan, but the sound is a faint background noise, it gets lost in the deafening and ringing sound, filling your ears. All you can think about is the immense shockwaves of pleasure pulsing through you.

Your grip on Kai’s shoulders grows weaker by the second, until you’re no longer able to hold yourself up. Your eyes grow heavy as fatigue washes over your drained body. The warmth when he finishes inside of you is faint, not nearly as rough or palpable as the others, and before you know it, everything is dark.

It’s dark for an eternity, you think it might never end. Was this death? Being cursed to an eternal darkness, unable to feel, unable to think, unable to speak. This couldn’t possibly be it. There had to be more. — You tell yourself that there was something else, something greater waiting for you. This wasn’t where you died. That didn’t even make any sense.

And slowly, you begin to feel again. The rough and cold texture of stone and dirt, it envelops your body, your body that aches, it aches and burns. You tear your eyes open, thinking that maybe it had all just been a bad dream, a very, very, bad dream. But you’re met with the same cold and dark cavern walls, they’re laughing at you, the walls. They’re looking down on you.

You feel exposed under their gaze, naked and cold. Afraid. Kai is nowhere to be seen, nor is Soobin, Beomgyu or Taehyun. Your head pounds as you gingerly try to sit up, your arms trembling under the mere weight of your upper body. You collapse against the hard stone once more, feeling as though you’d been drained of life.

It’s quiet, far too quiet, just as quiet as the forest had been. Something lingered here, something that scared even nature itself. It’s then you hear it, the soft rustle of someone else, moving through the shadows. — Red eyes cutting through the darkness, sharp as daggers. And soon enough, Yeonjun emerges from the dark. He moves slowly, taking his time as he approaches your unmoving figure, sprawled out on the floor.

The fire wasn’t nearly as strong anymore and a different kind of gloom had settled over the cold and wet cave. — When he reaches you, he crouches, bringing a gentle hand out to brush your hair back. “Poor girl”, he hums, “Should’ve known better than to go out in the woods all by yourself.” His voice comes out as the same low and animalistic drawl he’d used to lure you out in the first place.

You barely notice it when he flips you over, tugging your lifeless body over, making your naked back scrape across the rough stones. His hands spread your thighs apart, eyes trailing over the bruises left on your hips, on your chest, your neck, your arms. — He sighs, shaking his head, like he was disappointed with what he saw. “This is what I get for letting them go first”, he murmurs to himself, the back of his hand swiping away the remnants of cum that stained your cheeks.

“But you’ll help me too, won’t you?” He then says, and the tone he uses is one so sweet, your stomach almost flutters. Slowly, you nod, lips parting in a reply you never get to utter as Yeonjun presses the tip of his cock against your overstimulated and bruised cunt. Your soft gasp bounces off the walls of the cave, followed by a wanton moan as Yeonjun slowly slides inside your warm core. You’re the warmth they’ve all been looking for, the only thing that kept the cold out.

He hovers above you, red eyes boring into yours, but they’re not menacing like Beomgyu’s, not filled with adoration like Kai’s, they’re… It’s like they’re looking right through you, baring you open and dwelling deep into your mind, gauging out the darkest of secrets that you kept there. — Yeonjun moves slowly, with deliberate and drawn out thrusts as he feels you clench around him, thighs twitching with every wave of pleasure.

“You should know better than this, shouldn’t you?” He drawls, relishing in the way your eyes widen at his words. — “So keen on warning your friends, but you forget to keep yourself safe.” He sounds almost sad, melancholic, as if he was grieving you already. But then his expression turns dark, darker than anything you’d ever seen before, and his hips snap against yours. “Or were you?”

You shiver, avoiding to look at him as your head falls to the side, eyes drifting over the slowly dying fire, the last sparks of life, slowly descending. You felt oddly connected to that fire. A strange spark of resemblance perhaps. — But Yeonjun’s slender fingers around your chin, pulls you back, forcing your hopeless eyes to meet his.

“Do you know what happened to the boy who cried wolf?” He asks, letting the question linger on his lips, moving in and out of you slowly as he awaits your response. You shake your head, slowly swallowing. — Yeonjun smirks, a smirk so wide that his sharp fangs dug into his bottom lip.

“The wolf eats him.”

His statement makes your heart drop, realization slowly clawing its way through your clouded mind. The fear was evident on your face, you could tell by the way Yeonjun’s eyes lit up, a newfound hunger swirling within them. — He leans down, sharp teeth scraping across your neck, just like all the others had, but this time, it’s with a promise of death.

But despite the dangers of your situation, your body keeps on inviting him in, letting him feed on your fear and arousal as Yeonjun continues to pump his hard cock in and out of your throbbing cunt, and you enjoyed every twisted second of it.

For a moment, you thought about your friends, you thought about them, quietly sleeping in their tents, blissfully unaware of the cruel beings surrounding them. You thought about what might take place the following day, a day you were sure you wouldn’t get to experience. You wondered if they would be looking for you, you wondered if they would care. There was so much you had yet to do, but when you try and think of something, anything, your mind goes blank.

Perhaps you were done. Perhaps this was it.

You choke out a sob as Yeonjun bites down on your shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. The stinging sensation is followed by the warm feeling that spreads through your stomach as his hips jerk forward one last time, filling your cunt for the third time that night. This time, it felt like the last.

And Yeonjun doesn't move after that. He keeps you close, inhaling your sweet scent, clinging to your warm body, listening to your beating heart. He doesn't pull out, not even when he lifts you into his arms, cradling you like you were made out of porcelain. It felt comforting, almost like a goodbye.

Then you hear it, the sounds of footsteps approaching. And soon, the others re-enter the cave. Four sets of glowing eyes, all peering down at you. It’s impossible to read their expressions in the dark, so you didn’t bother. Your attention remains on Yeonjun, blinking slowly when he brushes your hair back a final time.

“You’ll help us once more, won’t you?” He says, the request coming out as nothing but a short whisper. In the darkness of the cave, you find yourself nodding once more, giving yourself up one last time. Yeonjun smiles, and it’s as close to a genuine smile as he could ever get. — And as the others approach, the echoes of their steps ringing in your ears. Yeonjun leans down, warm breath ghosting over your face. The last thing you feel are sharp fangs, piercings through the skin of your neck, deep enough to where all air left your lungs.

It became dark after that. And it was dark for an eternity.

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