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tokyoghls · 3 months ago

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like a prayer — c. mayhew ･˳ . ⋆

✧ ࣪ ─ ᥫ᭡ cw. blowjob, oral fixation, cum eating/feeding, religious/blasphemy themes, fem!reader. innocent/clueless!reader. mdni.

☆ an ☆ hellooo, hope you like this one, I tried so hard to portray charlie as best as i could since I’ve just read fanfics and haven’t actually watched the series, BUT as soon as it’s available on Disney+ I’ll watch it 🙂‍↕️

**also, keep in mind that this is just a fanfic, I don’t mean any disrespect towards religion or anything.

There wasn’t a way to explain the feeling, for it made his heart quicken and resolve to thin— sinful thoughts to dance around his mind like tiny devils with horns and tails, whispering wrongdoings to his ear.

He never considered himself to be weak and uncharacteristically doubtful. He knew right from wrong, yet he couldn’t help but steal a glance your way during mass— white lace veil hiding your face from his eyes, waiting for the minute you’d uncover and showed your tight knit brows and full lips, gaze set on the chapel’s ceiling as if looking directly at god’s eyes and wishing you’d glance his way instead, but you never do.

And he always finds himself thanking God you didn’t, as he wouldn’t find it in him to hold back if you had look his way and realized his sinful intentions, the way his thoughts traveled to your Sunday’s attire and pretty hands touching every surface in his office.

That’s why he’s been intentionally avoiding you— walking out of his office five minutes before you come to clean it, and if by any chance you came in earlier, he wouldn’t engage in conversation, making something up and mumbling a quick goodbye so he could avoid looking at your buttocks, displayed beneath that pretty white dress you choose to always wear on Sundays, or the way you chewed on your pencil in thought.

He’d find himself secluded in his room trying to find a way to get you out of his mind, and he found one, but eventually it failed.

The first time he’d done something like that, he thought all it took to forget about you was to rub one off and get on with it, but it was useless— he knew this the moment he realized, that, after every Sunday mass where he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, he locked himself inside his room and jerked off to the thought of you: kneeling on the pew, hands on a prayer and brows furrowing while your lips formed shapes and let out soft exhales with every word spoken.

Just like now, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

“Father Charlie, did I do something wrong?”.

Your voice pulled him out of his trance, eyes blinking twice and mind focusing in the present. He’s daydreaming. Again.

“Mmh?”.

He hasn’t been listening at all, too busy looking at your clavicle where a cross rested to notice the concerned tinge in your voice.

“Are you okay, Father?”.

He nodded, hands intertwining behind his back and anxious fingers scratching at each other, “Yes, don’t worry, my mind drifted elsewhere for a minute- what were you saying just now?”.

“Alright, umm- I asked if I had done anything to upset you?”.

“Of course not, why would you think that?”, he scoffed, trying to come up with something to change the subject. He didn’t want to say he thinks about you in a sinful way, he’s the father of this chapel after all— it wasn’t remotely okay to think about one of his parishioners that way.

Your gaze nervously shifted to the ceiling, fingers fumbling with each other in front of you, “Well, you’ve been ignoring me lately I tho-”.

“Is not what you think, I’ve just been busy with… something”.

Well, he couldn’t say he’s been busy jerking off to the thought of you sprawled on his desk could he? It was the smartest response he could come up with but also the dumbest.

“Oh well, then uhm… my mom’s waiting for me so I’ll go now”.

Charlie couldn’t do more than watch as your figure disappeared and get lost in thought once again.

Since that interaction, he hasn’t seen you around much— you didn’t attend church two consecutive Sundays, but eventually you returned, looking as beautiful as ever. He’s watching you again, but just to a certain point where your parents won’t notice the lingering glances and tiny smiles he’d send your way.

He has just finished the mass, everyone scattered around, greeting friends and family, him too- he was a loved priest. And of course, your family had to greet him.

“Father Charlie, we’re so pleased to see you again”, your mother spoke fondly, gaze shifting to you, standing behind your father as if you were a scared child. “C’mon honey, Father Charlie is waiting for you to say hello- oh sorry, she’s not in the mood now, she fell sick and she’s not feeling well…”.

Charlie tried to ignore the fact you were partly avoiding him, gaze set on him but also full of doubt. He could just smile thinking that you probably thought he was mad at you. “Don’t worry, I was quite surprised by your absence, but I’m glad you’ve returned”, he nodded, adding teasingly. “You’re my most devoted congregants, and not seeing you here for so long had me thinking you’ve found another church”.

“Oh no! Don’t say things like that!”, your mother giggled and shook her head, “We would never, we’re very attached to this church, my family and I used to come here every Sunday when I was young- I have many great memories here…”.

Charlie wasn’t paying attention to your mom and her incessant rambling anymore, he was paying attention to you. Maybe a little too much that he didn’t hear half of what your mother said.

“… and now we’re looking for a suitable husband for our dear daughter, of course we’d want him to be one of our dear brothers of this church, they all are decent men”

That caught his attention and a mocking snort left his lips. Your mom’s confused gaze made him remember his current position, and awkward cough leaving his lips, “Don’t mind me, continue…”.

You, marrying one of these guys? One of these prude and revolting guys being able to take your hand in marriage…? He couldn’t imagine of one of them warming your bed every night, was it jealousy? That, one of these men, would have you first?

“actually- we wanted to reach out to you, father, we believe you can be of great help for her to learn the ways of a happy marriage, based on respect and love. So, father, what do you think?”.

He couldn’t allow that, not even in a million years.

“Sorry, what I think about what?”. Charlie replied apologetically, looking partly ashamed for not paying attention to your dear mom. Though he wasn’t sure what she was really asking for, he missed half of the speech because of thinking about your possible suitors.

“About teaching our daughter the ways to a happy marriage, you know, principles, respect, values… we’d be very happy if you could help her learn- me and her father are far from being a perfect marriage, and we tried to teach her to some extent, but we’d like it if she learns from God’s hands from now on…”.

Your mom really shouldn’t have said that.

“Fa-father, are you sure this is the right lesson?”. you asked breathless, lips puffy and covered in a thin layer of spit, glistening under the warm lights in his office.

You were quite confused since this wasn’t the usual lessons Father Charlie imparted.

He glanced down at you, hand touching your cheek affectionately, the corner of his mouth twitching. He loved your innocence. “Of course, you need to learn to give proper head to your soon to be husband- now keep going, yeah? Your mother was quite specific when she said she wanted you to learn”.

With a nod of your head, you returned to your task. Tongue peeking out to give a lick to his reddened tip, a bead of salty precum attaching to your warm muscle. You were so close to stuff him all inside your mouth, he’s been working your throat muscles to accommodate him completely and you were quite greedy now, you think you can take him all the way in without your throat burning from the tight stretch.

From your position on the floor, you could look up at any moment and see his conflicted features, he was holding back so you could learn properly— or so he told you.

He was being patient and generous with you, he didn’t want his student chocking on his dick on her first try.

“Careful with those teeth, don’t want my dick bruised”. you hummed and he groaned, loving the way it felt when you did that. A desperate cry left your lips when you couldn’t stuff his dick completely inside, it was so thick and long that it almost embarrassed you to think you could take it without a problem. He noticed that and caressed your hair reassuringly, holding your nape and pushing you down carefully. “Slow, take your time yeah?”.

Breathing through your nose, you held back your tears and let him take the lead. You tried so hard not to gag, thinking about other things like the rough fabric of the tapestry beneath your knees, just to distract your mind from the pressure his dick was inducing your throat in.

But it was futile.

He tried to pull you all the way down but when he heard your muffled gag, he stopped, leaving you to catch your breath, not minding the way your nails dug into his hips trying to push away from him. He held you in place and consoled you.

“It’s alright, don’t worry, it’ll pass… I thought you were ready to take this lesson, tch… I think we should stop now”. The voice that was once filled with lust, now was filled with mockery.

You made a sound denying his request, taking a deep inhale through your nose and engulfing his shaft inside your mouth again, almost going all the way down— it was still a hard task but you found a way to accommodate more of him inside.

“God help me…”. He murmured, eyes shooting up to the ceiling, chest heaving up and down, balls tight and jaw locked. If he kept clenching his teeth like that, they’d surely fall out.

Charlie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, the way your mouth was full of his dick and mouth corners were glistening with a mixture of spit and cum, traveling all the way to your chin and jaw, made his mind spiral with lust and exasperated groans to leave his lips— he didn’t want to cum so soon.

You were doing so good for him, so good… Even if he wanted to blame himself for falling into temptation, he couldn’t think about that now— about the hopefulness on your mother’s face when he accepted this task. He wanted to make it right. So he was going to give his all, even if it meant tarnishing your innocence with his selfish and lust filled soul.

You started sucking his dick as if you were drinking through a straw, a tiny gasp leaving your mouth the moment his hips jerked, filling your mouth with his dick entirely, no restrictions, without consideration... Your eyes opened wide, nails digging again in his thighs, tapping incessantly on them to make him stop. You couldn’t breath, but you could hear his own moan ring through the room.

Your protests fell into deaf ears, Charlie’s hips kept fucking your mouth as if he was fucking your pussy— with a hunger equivalent to that of the abstinent man he was.

Even if he wanted to stop, he couldn’t. He felt so good he didn’t find it in himself to cease the attack on your mouth, he wanted you to learn, so stopping now would be wasting all the hard work he’d been doing.

Tears escaped the corners of your tight closed eyes, your clit throbbed with every push of his hips and moans he left out, you were so enjoying it even if it hurt a bit, even if it was hard to breath you didn’t want him to stop, not when he tasted this good.

“I’m gonna cum now, princess— won’t do that while I’m inside your mouth, but I want you to keep it open, tongue out”, he instructed, pulling his reddened dick out of your mouth with a pop, a thread of saliva and cum keeping it connected to your lips.

Your mouth opened and your tongue peeked out, showing the thin layer of cum that accumulated on your pink muscle. You watched as his hand grabbed his dick, jerking it up and down with desperation.

He lasted a few seconds before he came, white spurts of cum falling all over your chin and inside your mouth, “Swallow”, he ordered before you did exactly that. Charlie smiled, hand lifting up to wipe the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb, pushing it inside your mouth with more of his cum.

“That’s it… don’t waste any of it”.

#charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew x reader #charlie mayhew x you #charlie mayhew x fem!reader #charlie mayhew x y/n #father charlie mayhew #grotesquerie #charlie mayhew smut #charlie mayhew imagine #charlie mayhew one shot

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l0vergirlwrites · 9 months ago

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gulity as sin ; eddie munson

synopsis: since eddie joined your friend group, you’ve fallen for him. but sometimes the feelings you’ve harboured for him make you feel guilty—but he’s just too dreamy, so how could anyone blame you?

warnings: sexual innuendos, mentions of weed & alcohol & partying, mentions of sexual thoughts, downbad!reader & eddie, love confession & makeout!!!!

note: inspired by taylor swift’s song “guilty as sin”

alsooo i just had to get this out of my system because ahhhh!!!

“just so you know, you’re staring at eddie like you wanna fuck him” robin whispered in your ear as she came to your side with extra vcr tapes to stack near the back of the store.

“jesus! am i really?” you asked in a hushed whisper, face crowing warm with embarrassment. you couldn’t help it when eddie just looked so good as he leaned on the front counter talking to steve.

while you mentally face palmed yourself, robin gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “just a little bit”

peeking back over her shoulder at eddie to make sure he wasn’t looking at you (because you’re anxious & paranoid), you let out a breath of relief. “you think he noticed?”

she laughed “i hope not”

letting out a quiet gasp, you shoved robin’s shoulder “thanks for the vote of confidence, rob” you said sarcastically.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!—but seriously…” she paused for moment to create dramatic effect. “when are you gonna fess up & tell him how you feel?”

the big question.

with a big sigh, you shook your head in retreat. “probably never. it’s just some stupid crush—& besides, we’re just friends. i don’t know if he’d like me like that, rob.” you said while getting back to work, trying to get the image of eddie’s ring clad hands out of your mind so you could focus.

“is that really how you feel? or is your fear of rejection speaking for you?”

narrowing your eyes at her, you rolled your eyes knowing she was kidding (but was she? were you really hiding behind a guise so you wouldn’t get hurt?).

“you know,” she paused to look at eddie. “if he doesn’t want to jump your bones, i’d be floored” she said cheekily, causing you to nudge her rib cage.

“he doesn’t” you stated, but in your mind you hated the thought of it.

“if that’s what’ll help you sleep at night” she chided before moving onto a different shelf, the open space letting your eyes drift back to eddie, only to find that he was looking right at you.

“you coming to the party by reefer rick’s place on the weekend? i convinced stevie boy here to tag along—“

“—& to be the DD. i don’t know how i got roped into this” steve cut eddie off with an exasperated expression.

with the spotlight (eddie’s eyes) on you, you couldn’t help but feel stuck in place & your mind was running a million miles a minute.

clearing your throat, you nodded. “yeah sure! i should be able to if keith doesn’t make me come in last minute”

the last sentence caused eddie to roll his eyes.

“who cares about what keith says—you’re coming & you’re gonna have fun! you’re deserving of blowing off some steam, right?” eddie said convincingly.

“he’s right! fuck keith & his stupid last minute shift calls“ robin agreed with steve soon following suit.

jokingly with your hands up in surrender, you finally agreed. “maybe you guys are right…”

“of course we are, babe!”

the pet name eddie called you made your stomach flip in six directions, your face growing warm until steve beat you to speak.

“when the hell did ‘babe’ get into your vocabulary, munson?” he asked eddie with a quizzical eye.

“oh calm your tits harrington—“

“hey man, i don’t have tits & i am calm so shut—“

“hey!” you yelled, shutting them both up. “no bickering on my watch, idiots” you pointed to them both, causing eddie to place his right hand in his heart in apology.

“what do you expect,” robin chimed in. “they’re five year olds”

you both laughed a bit at her comment while the guys just rolled their eyes.

“well, i’m gonna head out & prep for my next campaign. butttt, i’ll see you geeks saturday?” he asked while twirling his van keys around his index finger.

before steve could try to rebuttle against eddie about him calling you all “geeks”, you beat him to it.

“yes—we’ll be there! bye eds” you waved sweetly, your hand flattering when eddie shot you a wink before heading out the door.

as the glass door chimed & shut after his departure, you immediately turned to robin.

“he winked at me!” you mouthed to her with excitement.

“are you guys secretly talking without including me, again?”

turning to steve, you gave him an apologetic look. “she was just fawning over how eddie winked at her” robin said with a nonchalant smile, causing you to gasp.

“robin—“

“why do you care if he—wait… ohhh… that makes sense” he lit up like a light bulb, going back to checking through the return log on the computer.

you stood there stumped at his reaction.

“is me liking eddie predictable?” you asked aloud, causing steve & robin to share a glance.

“yes” they said collectively, leaving you to sigh & turn back to the shelf to finish stacking the pile of tapes.

**~*~**~*~*~**~*~~*~**~*~*~~***~*

it was now saturday, & you were on speaker phone with robin as you were getting ready for the party.

you had decided to wear a short flowy black skirt, fishnet tights, your favourite black boots, & a dark green babytee with your favourite band on it. it was simple, but cute (& you secretly hoped eddie would think the tights were a nice touch).

“do you think you’ll tell eddie how you feel once you get some liquid courage in you?” she asked genuinely.

with a thoughtful sigh, you stopped applying blush to your right cheek. “gosh, rob—i don’t know. i don’t think it’s a good idea”.

you could tell she was shaking her head from the other side of the phone.

“remember when i was too afraid to tell vicky i liked her?”

you knew what she was gonna say. “yes, i do”

“so, you remember how you told me i should just ‘go for it! do it before it’s too late—what’s the worst that could happen?’, right?”

you slumped in your desk chair, fidgeting with your makeup brush. “yes…”

“sooo, you gotta practice what you preach—tell him before you regret it!” she encouraged, but still, you were horrified to.

“what if—“

she shushed you. “no what ifs. don’t do that to yourself—just be honest when the right moment comes along”

staying silent for a moment, you thought it over in your head before coming to a conclusion.

“maybe you are right, robin”

“i’m always right—regardless of what steve says” her words made you laugh, relieving you of a little stress.

**~*~*~~~*~***~*~**~**~*~*~~*

it was now nine-thirty on the dot & you could hear steve’s beamer honking from your driveway, signalling that it’s time to go. as soon as you stepped onto your driveway, you were met with hollers & whistles from your friends in the car—including eddie.

as soon as you saw him with his head out the window, whistling & vocally saying “shit y/n, looking good!”, you could’ve sworn you were going to collapse then & there.

shushing them before their hyper annoyed your neighbours, you (coincidentally) got into the backseat with eddie.

“you have everything?” steve asked before reversing the car.

“yes, dad” you joked before a silver flask was shoved into your lap.

“got you your favourite” eddie told you with a smile, causing you to audibly “awe” & thank him before taking a swing from it.

despite steve having a fancy car, the backseat was surprisingly small, so you knew it was going to be a long night with how your thigh is already pressed into eddie’s & his fingers were tapping his jean clad thigh dangerously close to your exposed one.

you caught him every now & then staring at your tights too, which didn’t help the fantasies brewing in your mind of him taking them off you.

“you excited?” you asked him while steve & robin were caught in their own conversation.

swiping his tongue across his teeth, he looked at you with a gaze that made your stomach tighten. “as long as you stick close by, then yeah i’m excited” he nudged you gently, allowing you a moment to process what he just fucking said.

tucking your hair behind your ears (a sign that you were nervous & liked him & were going insane), you let the conversation drift into comfortable silence as steve turned the radio up.

thank god for that.

**~*~~**~**~***~**~*~~**~**~*

the party eddie brought you guys to was packed at some random house on lover’s lake.

& it reeked of pot & beer, which was normal & expected.

with the flask eddie gave you in your right hand & eddie’s hand in your other (because the front lawn was packed & he didn’t want to lose you), your group maneuvered your way inside to disco party lights, sweaty bodies, more pot & more beer.

your grip on eddie’s hand was taut as you continued sliding past more & more people while muttering “excuse me, sorry!” over & over until you guys arrived on the dance floor.

“do you want anything?” eddie leaned down & whispered into your ear so you could hear over the music.

you took a second to answer because of how warm his breath felt against your skin. “no i’m okay, i got this remember?” you said with a smile, holding up the flask he gave you.

returning you a smile, eddie let go of your hand because robin was pulling you to dance a little.

“be back in five!” eddie mouthed to you, holding up five fingers & looking at you until you waved in acknowledgment.

“okay there’s no way he doesn’t want you” robin yelled into your ear as the song changed & people roared happily.

laughing & shaking your head, you disagreed.

“cmon! let’s just dance, yeah? destress!” steve yelled to you both before bopping his head to the music, causing you & robin to look at each other before laughing & join in.

the more songs played & the more you swing back eddie’s flask, you could feel yourself letting loose a little—possibly even making you feel courageous.

so much so that when eddie returned with a red solo cup with some sort of drink, you slung your arm around his middle for a quick hug.

“missed me?” he yelled in your ear.

“just maybe” you replied, feeling his right hand rub your arm up & down before fetching a joint from his pocket.

“missed me more now?” he asked again, laughing when you nodded your head, eyes glassy from the smoke in the room that was building.

“outside?” he yelled again, & you were the only one that agreed.

*~*~*~~*~~*~*~~**~***~*

departing from steve & robin to go smoke, eddie grabbed your hand once again & kept you close as you both made your way to the back porch that outlooked onto the water.

the backyard was still filled with people, especially jocks who were doing dumb keg games, but you didn’t mind. with your back against the siding of the house & eddie in front of you, caging you in, all you saw was him.

& god he looked hot. his hair was a bit frizzy, but his leather jacket managed to showcase his muscular arms & his slightly cropped band tee allowed you to see the happy trail on his abdomen.

it took everything in your power not to fold then & there.

“you want the first hit?” eddie asked as passed you his drink & pulled his lighter out of his pocket.

with a simple nod, you placed the joint between your lipstick covered lips & leaned forward for eddie to light the end of it for you. the action felt extremely intimate & already hand your skin tingling.

with the joint slotted between your fingers, you took a few hits & relished in the buzzed feeling it already gave you. & knowing eddie & is interest in pot, you knew whatever was wrapped within the joint was the good shit.

while you were taking your hits, eddie was reminding himself to not get hard at the thought of your lipstick rubbing off onto the joint or how you looked pretty with smoke exhaling from your mouth—he could feel his pants start to feel the tiniest bit tight at his view of you.

when you handed the joint to him, eddie stood beside you on the wall & took his time (possibly so you could look at him a little longer?).

& you didn’t care because he just looked too perfect with his head tilted up, the veins in his neck showing in the porch light, the joint rested between his ring clad fingers—you could already imagine yourself getting off to this image of him later—but you reminded yourself to stay cool.

everything was fine! you guys were just friends!

“you feeling okay?” eddie asked, turning to you who was already giving him soft doe eyes.

“better than okay” you smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder because you felt too warm under his gaze.

“wanna get off inside?” you heard him ask, causing you to cough & blink for a moment.

“shit—what did you say?” you looked at him, feeling his hand begin to interlock with yours again.

“i asked if you wanna go back inside—you sure you’re good?”

oh god, now you were hearing things.

“y-yeah, good idea” you mumbled as you followed his lead, holding on tight to avoid getting broken apart through the sea of teenagers & college students.

you only broke apart when robin pulled you in for a hug, hearing her say “it felt like you were gone for ages!”

for the rest do the night, you told yourself to he lost in the music rather than thoughts of eddie munson doing nasty things to you, which was going pretty successful until you felt his breath on your neck again.

“wanna dance?”

& how on earth could you say no?!?!

you let him pull you into his arms, his hands firm on your waist while yours were loose around his neck.

with the pot & other alcohol mixing in your system, you felt on top of the world. especially with eddie’s eyes on you. he’d twirl you around in circles & give you room to dance your heart out with him in your grasp & steve & robin would give each other knowing glances about whatever was brewing between you too.

you felt hot, sticky, & tingly all over your skin (not just because eddie was touching you) so you pulled his head down a bit to yell in his ear. “i’m gonna find a washroom!” & he was leading you around the house to find one without a question.

once you both found one of the third floor of this outrageous house, you pulled eddie in with you & turned on the light, thankful there was a dim setting.

“jesus, that was bright!” eddie shielded his eyes, causing you to laugh as you hopped up onto the counter.

exhaling a sigh of relief, you let your head lean back & rest against the mirror while eddie leaned against the closed door.

“do you need me to like, turn around or something…?” he asked, wondering what you were going to do.

“no—i just wanted to go somewhere quieter. less sweaty bodies”

he nodded understandingly before shamefully looking you up & down, telling himself to not get hard at the sight of you so pretty. you were already falling down a rabbit hole of all the things you want to do with him right now, each more dirty than the next—it would be just so easy for him to take off your skirt & unbuckle his pants—wouldn’t it?

but the guilt started to seep in & make you hide your face to groan in annoyance because why on earth were you spiralling like this?

“is something wrong?” he walked to you, holding your wrists & pulling them away to uncover you.

“just going insane is all” you replied, causing you both to laugh until he reached up to wipe off some of your smudged eyeliner from your under eye. he just needed to touch you somehow.

“guess what an old friend told me while i was getting a drink earlier”

you tilted your head in wonder, staring directly at eddie’s lips as he spoke.

“he saw us walk inside & told me that we looked like some couple from a movie—don’t remember which one though…” he ended with a murmur, too focussed on swiping his thumb on your cheek until you spoke up.

“is that a bad thing?” you asked, suddenly feeling small in this washroom with his hand directly on your skin.

eddie was closing in on you now, & you didn’t want it to stop.

you instantly felt sober now. especially with how each swipe on your skin felt like he was making you his—which was definitely an exaggeration but how could you need feel that way when he was holding you so delicately?

shaking his head ‘no’, eddie’s brows furrowed. “of course not—it’s not a bad thing. i-i just thought it was, i dunno, cute—“

“cute?” you questioned softer than him, a smile in the beginning stages of forming on your face.

was this your moment that robin was talking about? you sure hoped so.

“i-i think that’s the right word” he stumbled over his words, feeling your right hand brush some hair out of his face.

“i think so too”

& then there was comfortable silence.

you weren’t sure how to move forward from here. do you tell him all your feelings for him that you’ve keep hidden in a vault at the back of your mind? do you tell him that you’ve been fantasizing about him for weeks? that he’s the only one that makes you feel so many things?

you wish this part was easier.

“would it be, i dunno, uncalled for if i told you that you’ve been driving me crazy?” eddie asked, immediately unlocking said vault inside you.

“are you serious?” you asked, completely sober now as you pulled his hand away from your face & fixed your posture, eyes locked on his for the answer.

“as serious as the dead” his breath hitched, unsure if he made things worse or misread whatever signs you sent, but before he could apologize your hands were already on his face to pull his lips to yours.

it was a messy, top lip & hungry kiss that you’ve been dying to experience since you first laid eyes on him. & god did it felt right, with his tongue meshing with yours & his hands gripping your fishnet covered thighs as he pulled you closer to his body with aching need.

it was the kind of kiss that tried to convey just how you felt about him, the wanting & lusting from afar, the longing glances & lip bites when he made you feel a certain type of way.

it was catastrophic & heavy but sweet with laboured breaths of beer & smudged lipstick.

“holy shit” eddie breathed out against your lips, chasing him for another kiss because it was just that good but you were smiling & clashing your teeth against his & giggling from how silly it all felt.

“that is why i’ve been going insane” you panted against him, hands falling to grip the cotton of his shirt.

“i’m crazy about you eddie. & it’s not the drugs talking, i promise” you swore, scouts honour.

with his forehead pressing against yours & laugh escaping his lips that had little bits of your lipstick, he squeezed your thighs. “i would hope not, ‘cause i’m really crazy about you too”

you closed your eyes now, relishing in the weight lifting off your shoulders & how his touch felt electric. “eddie” you exhaled.

“yeah, sweetheart?” his fingers were pressing different patterns on your thighs to the point where you asked in yourself if he was writing ‘mine’ across the fishnet material.

“can we do this again tomorrow?” you asked, already longing for this feeling to last, praying this wouldn’t be just a one time thing at a party.

“i don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, so yeah, i think we can make it happen” eddie smirked, kissing you quick before pulling back to see your swollen lips.

“wanna go back to the party & surprise the geeks?”

“i’d love to”

& with eddie whisking you from the counter, hand on your hip as he lead you back downstairs, you both immediately saw steve & robin jumping up & down happily when they witnessed you two looking like love sick idiots who finally fessed up.

#l0vergirlwrites💌#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfic #steve stranger things #stranger things netflix #fanfic

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bushwskq · 3 months ago

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FATHER CHARLIE MAYHEW X WITCH!READER

Part 1 🕯️

cw: smut, 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm back! I just want to say that I'm really happy for the likes of part 1 💜 I hope you like this one too

There you were again, smoking a cigarette outside the church. Your leather boot making noise with every stomp you made on the anxious sidewalk. It was Wednesday, as Father Charlie had said, the day of confession in which the faithful came to the house of God to confess their sins and their souls were absorbed from the fires of hell until the next week like a vicious cycle. You reached out your hand grabbing the coffee cup on the floor, making sure no one had witnessed the little display of magic. Waiting a few more minutes you entered the church as soon as the last person left. Unlike your first visit, the place was now dark with few candles lighting the space. His eyes wandered around the place before finding the confessional, this time the pentagram on his chest was completely exposed.

“I see you took my offer seriously,” Father Charlie Mayhew began in surprise as you sat in the confessional. When he made the proposal, he didn't believe you would actually accept it. You noticed him shift position on the other side by the creaking of wood. “I’m all ears, start whenever you want.” Again you felt his cologne, oh my god, how it gave you a good and restless feeling at the same time.

An exciting agony His eyes caught your movements through the small holes, imagining the contours of your body, the way your curves would press against him. His grip on the wooden cross in front of him tightened, the need to touch it overwhelming.

“You really believe in God. Father?” You asked suddenly, looking at the holes in the confessional that gave access to it. Charlie paused for a moment, composing himself before speaking “I have many reasons to believe in him, he saved me and he can save you if you let him.” he said in a low voice. You smiled awkwardly, without any effort a flame lit up on your index finger. It didn’t burn you, just a tingling on the tip that you were already used to. “There are things… things that many are not yet ready to understand, Father.” seconds later the flame disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

Father Charlie's heart raced as he watched the flame dance on his fingertip, a flicker of light in the dark confines of the confessional. Mixture of fascination and fear coursing through his veins as the fabric of his robe strained against his arousal, a physical manifestation of the turmoil within. His breath caught in his throat, and he found himself drawn to you in a way that both thrilled and disturbed him. As a man of God, he knows he should denounce her abilities, expel her from this sacred place. And yet... a part of him longs to understand, to unravel the mystery you present.

You can't react when he opens the confessional door abruptly grabbing your body with ease, his beautiful eyes darting to the pentagram like the first time. You don't react when he pulls you hard, breaking it, leaving only the cross on your chest.

"What...what are you?" he sighs, his voice rough with barely contained lust. “Some demon sent to disturb the peace, surely.” But even as he speaks, his hands are roaming your body, gliding over your curves with a hunger that belies his words.

The heat of his touch burns your skin, even through the fabric of your clothes. He leans in, his lips colliding against yours in a bruising kiss. It's a dance of passion and danger, the forbidden fruit he knows he should resist but can't. A witch and a priest, an impossible combination, and yet…

You can see the lust burning inside Charlie. It's intoxicating because you still feel his grip. His features are like a fallen angel, he was in the wrong vocation. His hands slid lower, pushing up the skirt of your black dress. The smell of your arousal mixes with his, an intoxicating scent that clouds his mind and weakens his resolve. He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, his eyes dark with need. “Tell me,” he says harshly, “are you real, or am I losing my mind?”

He knows he should stop, he should push you away and run away from this temptation. But he can't. He is lost, drowning in a sea of forbidden desire, and he is powerless to resist. “I can be real for you tonight.” You say boldly, you had nothing to lose. It would be another night of fun.

You see the realization flash through Charlie's eyes. Slowly, he releases you, allowing you to take a step back. He looks at you, desire and fear tangled in his gaze. His hand shakes as he runs it through his hair, an attempt to regain some semblance of control. And then, as if he had made a decision, his resolve breaks. He walks towards you, closing the gap between you, and whispers huskily, “Show me… let me know the truth of your words.” The rational part of his mind screams at him to stop, to push you away and escape this temptation.

But his primal, carnal side longs to surrender, to lose himself in the forbidden pleasures you offer. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

But all he sees is a mirror of his own desire, a reflection of the hunger that burns within him. Father Charlie's heart races as he unbuttons the buttons on her dress, his fingers trembling with anticipation. He pulls the fabric to the side, exposing the smooth, supple skin of your collarbone. Leaning down, he presses a searing kiss to your flesh, claiming you as his. His hands roam your body, exploring every curve and contour with desperate hunger. He can’t get enough of you, the feel of your skin under his fingertips, the taste of your flesh on his tongue.

“You’re beautiful,” he sighs, his voice rough with desire. "More than any mortal man could deserve." He reaches out, his hand gliding over the curve of your breast, tracing the delicate curve of your waist. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine and lighting a fire deep within your core. Father Charlie's own clothes appear tight, a reminder of the vows he made and the life he chose. With a growl of frustration, he hurriedly begins to remove the fabric, exposing his chest to your gaze.

With that, he pulls you close once more, his lips finding yours in a kiss that is both desperate and possessive. He pours all his longing, all his desire, into that one moment, and you can feel the intensity of his passion coursing through your veins. A low growl resonates in his chest, and he grabs you roughly, his hands gripping your hips with blunt force.

He pushes you against the wall, pinning you in place with his body. His mouth crashes against yours, the kiss is fierce and demanding, a clash of teeth and tongue that leaves you both breathless. His hands roam your body, groping and squeezing, leaving no inch of skin untouched.

He tears at his underwear, tearing it off with wild desperation, not caring about the damage he causes. You can feel his arousal pressing against you, strong and insistent, a physical manifestation of his desire. He grinds against you, the friction delicious and maddening at the same time.

With a final growl, Father Charlie lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he positions himself at your entrance. He stops for a moment, his eyes boring into yours, a silent question in their depths.

And then, with one thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, a mixture of pleasure and pain that borders on the sublime.

He sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with a ferocity that steals your breath. Each thrust is deeper, stronger than the last, bringing you both closer to the edge of oblivion. Father Charlie buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth sinking into your flesh as he loses himself in the rhythm of your copulation. He is a man possessed, driven by a hunger that cannot be satisfied, a need that consumes him completely.

Father Charlie's grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts become more erratic as the line between pleasure and pain blurs. You can feel the desperation in every move, the need to claim and be claimed in return. The sound of their copulation fills the air, skin against skin, the wooden structure rhythmically echoing the charged atmosphere. Father Charlie's breathing is ragged, his body shaking as he approaches the edge of release.

He grinds against you, his cock pulsing inside you, the heat of his release building. With a final, guttural groan, he spills himself inside you, the profanity of his actions washing over him like a tidal wave.

As his orgasm subsides, he collapses against you, his body slick with sweat. The air around you is thick with the scent of sex, a testament to the forbidden pleasure you've just shared.

For a moment, there is only the sound of their heavy, labored breaths as they cling to each other in the aftermath. Father Charlie's fingers run gently through his hair, a stark contrast to the ferocity of moments before. Slowly, he pulls away from you, his gaze never leaving yours. In that moment, there is a newfound vulnerability in his eyes, an admission that this transgression has changed him forever.

@mlt2000

#charlie mayhew #nicholas chavez x reader #charlie mayhew x reader #charlie mayhew smut #father charlie mayhew x reader #x reader #fem!reader #grotesquerie #nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez smut #witches #kinktober 2024

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starlessnightsblog · 2 months ago

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7 minutes in heaven with… Hyunjin?! ~pt 2~

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

18+ | fluff/smut | wc : 5.5k

╰─..★.────────────╯

what the actual fuck?

you thought. Hyunjin had flipped your world upside down, and it only took well, 7 minutes.. give or take.

and you dreaded monday.

you and him had a class together so seeing him would be inevitable.

and you felt, almost, bad for just storming out the other night, maybe even a hint of guilt.

you had told him to his face that you didn’t like him, and sure he was arrogant, and adorned with annoying popularity, but it simply wasn’t all that true.

you hated this, you couldn’t think straight. all you could think about was that night. Hwang Hyunjin, of all people. him and his tantalizing aura. his persistence. his closeness, his dark eyes.. his hands that swallowed yours.. those same hands on your body.. his fingertips roaming your skin. how he gripped at your curves, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. how soft his lips were and how they moved against your own—full of desperation. the sweet sinful taste that lingered. the words that poured out, quiet moans and his husky tone. the push and pull of the whole exchange. all desirous and needy…. was he like that with everyone? or was it just you?

that couldn’t be it, you thought. no way in hell. but would it be so bad if it was all you? deep down you wanted that to be true.

the memories clouded your thoughts so bad you couldn’t focus in class. it was no use, no exchange had ever been as captivating. no one had ever made you feel the way he did. you had to snap yourself out of it, you were literally in the middle of 2nd period, pressing your thighs together, growing more anxious by the second.

you didn’t see Hyunjin till your last period.

you were already sat at your desk when he had walked in.

the eye contact was magnetic as soon as he walked through the door. time fell still and you both froze. you looked down at your book. and he walked to his desk, right past you. and that was that.

it hurt a bit when he didn’t try to talk to you, but maybe that was your fault. you had some hurtful things and you started to doubt your previous assumptions, you had been delusional, of course. thinking what had happened between you wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him and that he didn’t really care.

figures.

⟡

Hyunjin had messed up, he knew that. he didn’t even attempt to talk to you, he couldn’t, one: he wanted to give you space. two: he didn’t know what words could fix it, what could he even say?

hey sorry about the other night i actually have the biggest crush on you and im sorry im such an ass and i shouldn’t of taken advantage of you, i just couldn’t help myself??

yeah ok sure.

in defense—for him, you were a siren. even if he had been the one who initiated the whole thing, you were hypnotizing, with your dulcet gaze and seraphic smile. it’s all he had been thinking about since. he couldn’t help himself, it was like the universe had answered a prayer for him or some divine intervention bullshit like in the animes he watched. he was a ‘P’ type after all. he believed in things like that, ironically.

but thursday, when the guilt had eaten him down to his bones, when piled up words got lodged in his throat after an awkward glance or pass in the hall—when he had enough of only seeing the back of your perfect pretty head, he thought, fuck it.

he walked in this time and sat right behind you in the empty desk, invading your personal space immediately.

“can we talk?” he whispered close behind you.

you ignored him.

he bit his lip, “pri—(y/n). …. at least hear me out.”

you rolled your eyes, sighing, “there’s nothing to say.”

“really? i can of think of a lot.”

silence.

he hesitated, “i- i can’t stop thinking about you.”

he felt strangely childish for revealing that, but fuck, it was true. you deserved the truth.

you turned your head slowly to face him after letting his confession linger in the air for a moment, now peering over your shoulder.

you still didn’t say anything.

he held his bottom lip between his teeth, feigning innocence, his eyes burned holes through your own.

he looked serious—melancholic. not like how he usually was, upbeat and relaxed. he genuinely looked like he had been losing sleep over this, over you.

you felt your heart ache at the sight. you didn’t know what to say. in what way did he even mean that? you or your body… that night?

but for Hyunjin, he just missed you. he missed your smile, he missed your voice, he missed your hands in his hair, around his neck, your lips, god, did he miss your lips.

when you didn’t say anything, he took it as a sign of defeat, and left to go back to his usual seat.

⟡

friday night your friend was dragging you to another party, not so much a drag this time, as you had hoped Hyunjin would be in attendance. so you put more effort into your appearance, hair freshly washed, extra attention to details, and even used your expensive perfume that was designated for special occasions. you wanted to try to finally speak to him, and you knew if that was gonna happen you would have to initiate it.

and finally after an hour of sipping the same drink, sitting on the same couch, you spotted Hyunjin out the corner of your eye in the midst of his usual friend group. and you didn’t move, just watched him, talking, laughing.

you had to admit, he looked good, like always. his hair was fluffy, falling on his shoulders. he wore all black, baggy jeans and adorned in sliver jewelry.

the whole week had been hell. his plead from the day before stained your brain like a glass of red wine spilled on the sofa.

you couldn’t help but miss him too, even when you felt like you shouldn’t.

your friend noticed your staring, the look of curiosity and longing in your eyes, she knew everything, you had cried in her lap the night before. she patted your knee, pulling your attention away from him.

“hey, how about some shots, yeah?”

you didn’t turn her down, maybe getting drunk would help.

wrong.

another drink and 5 shots later you found yourself walking straight up to Hyunjin who was mid conversation.

“we need to talk.” you state, and loudly over the music.

he looked at you wide-eyed, confused at your sudden presence. he didn’t think he would see you here, he smiled awkwardly.

“here, right now?”

he eyed his now confused group of friends who tried to hide their sneers and obvious confusion.

“right now.” you stood your ground. you favored an angry kitten, he thought.

he scoffed, pulling you aside.

“you’re drunk.”

“and? you’re impossible.”

he furrowed his brows, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

you think on it, not actually knowing.

he rolled his eyes, “we can talk. when you’re sober.”

“no.”

“no?”

“did you mean it?”

his face twisted, he didn’t know what you were talking about at first.

“when you said you can’t stop thinking about me… what did you mean by it?”

people were starting to stare at you two now, Hyunjin noticed, he didn’t like it. he never liked unnecessary attention.

but he liked that you were finally giving him the time. less enthused that it was only because of the liquor, but you were still cute nonetheless. a pout on your lips, cheeks a little red, acting all demanding, slightly angry. it cheered him up a bit.

“i’ll tell you, but first, i’m taking you home.”

“i don’t wanna go home.”

he ignored you, grabbing you by your wrist. “where’s Chrissy?”

you sighed. “the kitchen.” you mumbled, over being unruly all of a sudden.

Hyunjin quickly found your friend and let her know that he was taking you home, he made sure it was all okay and you nodded when your friend looked at you for reassurance. maybe that was best, especially since the room spun when you walked.

Hyunjin led you to his car, helping you in gently.

the ride was quiet mostly, he turned on some music, it sounded indie? and romantic. you found it endearing, even in your state. something you didn’t expect from him. you looked over at him, he was so beautiful—breathtaking. the street lights catching his sharp features in the shadows as they passed, skin like wet glass. you probably stared at him for too long, either he didn’t notice or didn’t mind.

you felt yourself coming more to your senses, the cheap alcohol wearing off little by little.

his voice broke through the soothing ambience after awhile, “how ya feeling?”

“thirsty.”

he let out a tiny laugh, “we’re almost there.”

he didn’t take you home, instead it was his place you ended up at.

when you got back to his apartment, Hyunjin led you up the stairs, holding you so you wouldn’t fall. you let him be attentive, it was nice, attractive.

“thank you.” you mumbled while he tried unlocking the door.

“of course.”

“this okay?”

“what? you being here?”

it swung open, and he flicked the lights on.

“yeah.”

“you didn’t wanna go to your place, so.”

“yeah, my roommates suck, when it comes to having guys over.”

“you were gonna have me over?” he smirked.

you hit his arm playfully, rolling your eyes. you both giggled.

you stayed close behind him as you walked in. he stopped to take off his shoes so you did the same. but stumbled trying to get them off.

Hyunjin was there to catch you before you hit the wall. his large hands firmly on your waist and the small of your back, pulling you against him.

“you sure you’re okay?”

“these shoes are too small, they’re Chrissy’s-“

and when you looked up at him, there was those taunting, dark eyes.

you felt the blood rush to your cheeks and you swore, in that moment, he could hear the kick drum that was now your heart. your palms pressed against his chest, he was so warm, and you were so cold.

your eyes traveled down to his plush lips, like it was the first time all over again. he was such a good kisser you suddenly remembered. gentle and sweet—yet demanding and almost, possessing in the most perfect way. kissing him felt so right. your stomach did a cartwheel at the thought and you knew it wasn’t the cheep vodka this time.

“uh, can i.. can i shower?”

he quickly removed his hands from you and you took a step back.

“yeah, yeah sure. of course.”

“thanks.”

“i’ll get you some clean clothes, they might be a bit big, that okay? oh, and some water.”

you nodded, he pointed down the hall behind you, “bathroom’s at the end of the hall.”

“thank you.” you smiled.

he watched you make your way down the hallway, making sure you didn’t hit the wall a second time.

“of course princess.”he said under his breath, too low for you to hear.

a shower should help you sober up more, he thought. he was surprised you asked for one, surprised you were here at all, in his apartment. he wasn’t complaining though.

he’d gone to school with you for years, always sharing at least one class together since senior year, the year he transferred. who knew you would end up at the same university. maybe that was why you were so comfortable around him. you’ve kind of known each other forever it seemed, and you weren’t so bad, even if you acted like it, but he knew that already.

the bathroom was surprisingly clean for a man’s bathroom. you showered quickly.

you wrapped a towel that was hanging neatly on the rack around your dew dropped skin. when you opened the door, steam poured out and a shirt and some boy shorts? were laid neatly on the floor, and a bottle of water.

they were warm and smelled of fresh linen. Hyunjin must’ve thrown them in the dryer for you.

and now you felt like an idiot for being so obnoxious at the party earlier and a bitch at the last one. Hyunjin really wasn’t that bad. in fact, possibly the complete opposite of what you had always assumed he was and he had shown you that tonight without even trying.

after you put on his clothes you walked back out into the living room. Hyunjin laid on the couch, he had changed into something comfy too.

the tv glowed cool shades of cyan in the dark, providing the only source of light in the room besides his phone that his face was glued to—until you stepped out, it dropped on his chest.

Hyunjin held his lip between his teeth, his arm that was supporting his head shifted as he sat up a bit, making room for you on the couch. you looked comfy, cute. for some reason, he found you the most beautiful in this moment. drowning in his shirt that was too big for you, falling over your shoulder, bare faced. he felt his chest tighten at the sight. his thoughts ran wild for a split second and came to when you stood in front of him.

“last weekend.” you started.

he looked up at you.

“you said you didn’t want me like that…”

you placed your knee on the side of the couch, near his thigh.

“so…. how do you want me?” you whispered, your tone light as a feather.

Hyunjin straightened his posture and his jaw tightened—gulping for air. did he fall asleep on the couch? was he dreaming? his eyes scaled your body and he bit back a boyish smirk.

he reached his hand out slowly and traced it down your arm, you were warm, real. when he reached for your hand he intertwined his fingers with yours, he hadn’t dare met your eyes yet, if he did, he’d falter.

his other hand laced around the back of your knee—without hurry—testing the waters.

he drew you close, until you were straddling him.

“just like this.” he murmured.

“yeah?” your tone a mere whisper, settling into his lap now. a familiar position you had been missing since you left it the first time, your hands now rested on his shoulders.

“mhm.” he hummed, admiring you, bathing in bliss now that he had you close again. he couldn’t believe his eyes. he wasn’t dreaming—no. this was better than any dream he could have.

he’d been craving your warmth for what felt like years, he’d wait years for it too, it was that sweet.

his hands roamed from your thighs to your waist, you could feel the heat building up in between your legs, his touch was antagonizing—slow and soft. it burned your skin.

“i wanted to apologize.” he broke through the silence, “you should know, i wasn’t gonna go any further in that closet.”

“i know.” you tugged lazily on his shirt collar.

“you deserve a lot better than a shifty closet in a frat.”

you nodded, some of his hair fell in his face, you moved it out the way, letting your fingernails trail down, tracing his jaw and ending up back at the hem of his shirt.

your faint touch giving him goosebumps.

“show me.” you whispered, looking into his stormy eyes, batting your lashes.

a corner of his mouth raised as he inched closer till his lips were dangerously close to yours.

they hovered there for a few seconds before they just barely brushed before gently pressing them to yours, but it ignited your entire body.

as your lips melted together, the kiss grew into something greedy, hot and heavy. until you were both devouring each other. his hands found their way under your shirt to grip at your hips. it was everything Hyunjin had been craving for days, hours, minutes. desperately curving into one another, your hands in his hair, on his neck and down his back

you pressed down on his growing hard on, you could feel the heartbeat beating between your thighs. the softest moan escaped from your lips against his, causing both of you to break away for air.

he pulled back to kiss your neck.

it was a pleasure in it’s self the way he did it—hungry and sloppy.

he steadied himself, catching a glimpse of you, like this. “you’re so beautiful.” he whispered.

you opened your eyes to catch him staring at you with adoration in his eyes, a smile growing on his face.

you felt your cheeks get hot and you smiled softly. “you just know how to say all the right things, huh?”

your hands cupped his jaw, you rubbed his cheek with your thumb, then just under his bottom lip.

“only if it’s true.”

you coyly rolled your eyes.

he pulled you closer—as if you could get any closer—his grip tightening on your hips again.

he whispered close to your ear, “i wanna show you something.”

you leaned back, raising a brow at him.

and he bit back a smirk, the corners of his eyes crinkled as the words left his lips.

⟡

Hyunjin was chasing your lips as you hit the door to, what you assumed, was his room. he had you pressed against the cold wood. his hands around your neck. you took one of yours to search for the doorknob, finding it, you twisted it and it swung open.

the two of you stayed glued together as you stumbled back into the room. Hyunjin knew exactly where he was going, leading the way best he could whilst preoccupied.

you hit what felt like a mattress and had to pry him off of you to catch a breather, both of you giggling like love sick teenagers.

but for Hyunjin, breathing was the last thing on his mind, as he wasted no time dripping kisses all over your skin. to your jaw and cascading down your neck. he sucked on your flesh, leaving light bruises just above your collarbone. causing a breathless whimper to escape your lips.

Hyunjin had kept his composure all night, but now in your presence, with you so beautifully bearing your neck beneath him. he simply wanted to consume your entire being. to show you how much he wanted it—you. to devote himself to you. if you’d have him. he was experiencing catharsis. his dream girl all his finally. he’d make it well worth the wait. show you everything you didn’t even know you were missing, everything you deserved. you had so asked so nicely after-all.

“you sure you wanna do this?” he murmured.

you nodded, “im sure.”

“positive?”

you nodded again.

“we can stop, just say the w-.”

“Hyunjin!”

“hm?”

“shut up.” you pressed your lips to his, he smiled against the kiss.

you both sank into the sheets, your hands in his hair, his hands roaming your body. his fingertips snaked down to lace around the shorts you were wearing, still kissing you.

he lifted your shirt enough to expose your mid drift. his hands around your waist, he broke away, to plant a kiss below your rib cage, trailing a few more down on your plush skin till he reached the waist band of the shorts. you eyed him intently.

he pulled them down, taking his time. it sent shivers down your spine as cold air hit parts of you it hadn’t yet. then you felt his warm breath on your skin again.

he kissed right on your center. your head dropped back and you bit back a ‘fuck’. knowing exactly what was about to happen now. thank god you shaved, you thought.

Hyunjin watched your head fall, he didn’t take his eyes off of you, transfixed on your movements, your reactions to his touch.

he grew restless as the sight of your already wet cunt as he groveled between your legs.

he felt his dick pulsating in his pants, but all his focus was on you.

he kissed your center again, sucking this time, letting his tongue dance around, getting you more wet by the second. it was a sensation you hadn’t recognized, it was maddening.

he worked circles around your clit with his tongue, watching your rig cage rise and fall.

inhale,

exhale,

you cursed under your breath. he took his fingers and rubbed them upwards between your folds, finding your sweet spot, then began rubbing small slow circles around your already sensitive bud, picking up pace the longer he went.

after a few seconds he slipped one finger in, slowly curving it inside you. he left a gentle kiss before he started sucking again, just where it felt right before slipping in a second finger, pumping it in and out slowly as he worked on your high with his tongue.

you shivered beneath him, gripping at the sheets beside you as his slender fingers joined together inside you.

Hyunjin took his other hand and laced his fingers with one of yours when he noticed you grabbing at the fabric. his tongue danced laps around your clit, as his fingers pumped steady to the beat of the sweet elicit sounds pouring out your lips now.

you tried holding in your moans, but it only made it worse, the louder you got, the harder he went. knowing you were getting close.

Hyunjin had a way with his words, his eyes, his hands, his lips …so of course this was no different. heavenly was the only way to describe it. your chest heaved up and down quicker, curses like smoke out your mouth.

his eyes didn’t leave your shivering body, he was in awe.

he was eager, eager to please you, eager to watch you melt like honey in front of him, because of him. until you finally yelped, your legs twitched in his grasp. and he could feel your walls convulsing against his fingers, sending waves of bliss throughout your being as you came on his tongue.

Hyunjin lifted his head, breathing deeply. his lips and chin glistened with wetness. he licked his lips, savoring the taste.

you inhaled deeply as your high settled.

Hyunjin sat up, his hands tracing your lower body. his gaze lingered on yours as you watched him.

“so fucking pretty.” he murmured, holding his bottom between his teeth.

“stoppp.” you covered your face with your hands.

“but i mean it.” his tone faint.

“i know, but..” you blushed softly, holding your fingernail in between your teeth. “im not use to this.”

you were use to getting compliments, sure. but them coming from Hyunjin just felt different, he was so gorgeous, so unreal. you couldn’t put it into words how it made you feel, like he was really telling you the truth.

“i’ve always thought you were pretty.” he spoke, sincerity in his tone.

“you’re pretty.” you spoke, barely whisper.

he took your leg and draped it over his shoulder as his lips latched onto your inner thigh, he didn’t dare break eye contact with you as he made out with your velvet skin. he shifted his focus to your lips, missing the taste already. he leaned down to kiss you, capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

you could feel his erection through his sweat pants pressing down on your bare cunt as he curved into your body. it ached for another release.

“Hyunjin?” you whimpered.

“yes princess?” he groaned between your lips.

you draped your leg around his waist, pulling him closer, pressing him into you more, just slightly. enough for him to notice.

he smirked at that, he pressed against you more. it started slow, easy. rolling his hips into you barely brushing your entrance. then it got hungry, harder.

you whimpered sweet sounds when his mouth latched to your jaw, then letting his lips drag down your neck, only to leave the softest bit on your collarbone.

your hand moved down to help him, rubbing his hard on against the fabric.

he moaned into your neck.

“princess….” his tone filled with agony and desperation.

“need you so bad.” you whispered in his ear.

Hyunjin wanted this so bad, he wanted this to happen, he did. it felt so good, but he couldn’t help but hesitate. he stopped all movements to look at you. your face was slightly red, lips bruised, eyes low. you looked angelic.

“you still sure? we can stop if..”

you cut him off. “i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want too.”

you reassured him, you kissed his jaw, then the corner of his mouth, as extra reassurance.

“now… take off your pants.”

he let out a low chuckle, sitting up off the bed.

you had to admit, you were curious as to what was underneath his clothes. you watched him with a glint of desire in your eyes.

first was his shirt, he pulled it over his head in one swift motion. and next his pants, then his black briefs and—

your jaw fell slack when your eyes landed on it, though you fixed it quickly.

he smiled. “you’re staring.”

Hyunjin didn’t seem like the shy type, yet he was blushing.

“can’t help it.” you smirked.

he clicked his teeth, coyly rolling his eyes.

“okay okay, your turn.” he scanned your still clothed figure with a sense of wonder.

you sat up on your knees, removing your—his—shirt slowly, seductively, tossing it on the floor. it took everything in Hyunjin to pull his eyes away, his brain fighting between modesty and unquenched desire. he bit his lip and crawled back on the bed, both of you getting back into the previous position you were in, getting tangled in the duvet. your nails trailed up his arms, till they rested at the nap of his neck.

“condom?” you asked.

he reached in his top drawer above the nightstand, and felt around for a little too long. “shit.” he hissed, pushing his hair back.

“what is it?”

“i don’t have any...”

“im on birth control. okay… well… when’s the last time you…?”

“had sex?” he tried to think. “can’t remember.. a while.”

“uh huh.”

“you think im a whore, huh?”

“well..”

“im not easy either, princess.” he smirked. “and you?”

“a while.”

“hm, good.”

you shot him a look, he chuckled under his breath. “sorry, sorry.”

“fuck it.”

you pulled him down to meet your lips, he captured your them in a tender kiss, positioning himself firmly in between your legs at the same time. he really liked kissing you, you were good at it. he liked to think he was too, but fuck, you knew exactly what you were doing.

He brought his hips down to met yours. grinding against your opening and shuddered at the feeling.

he took two of his fingers and brought them in between your warmth, that was still very much dripping.

“fuck,” he murmured with an exasperated breath.

he took his length and lined it with your entrance, still kissing you. then he dipped into the ocean between your legs, getting a taste.

Hyunjin wasn’t abnormally huge, but he wasn’t average either, so when you felt him break through, you moaned into his mouth, your nails gripped his skin harder.

he eased all the way in, letting you get use to it. then slowly he rolled his hips in, then out. like a deep breath.

inhale.

exhale.

he bit back a moan and buried his head in your neck. your lips on his shoulder, you kissed his salty skin as he fucked into you gently, letting you get use to the sensation.

then he picked up his pace, carving himself into you. quicker now. pushing deeper and deeper till he bottomed out inside you. sharp breathes escaping between his lips as he did so. like calm waves crashing against the shore under moonlight. only Hyunjin was the tide and you the soft buttery sand.

there was no warning when he started going faster, harder. his teeth leaving imprints on your neck to silence his own curses and breathing.

you nails dug into his toned back, as you began to see hints of stars, you arched into him, and he held you closer. one of his arms snaked around your leg, hoisting it up to reach even deeper into you, you were so soft, he noted to kiss your thighs later with his teeth.

exhales turned into whimpers turned into moans pouring out from both of you.. Hyunjin looked at you, your cheeks were flushed. he kissed you, it was desperate and ravenous.

it was more intimate than it had any right to be.

“fuck princess, you feel—so good.”

“more, more.” the words no than sighs fell from your bruised lips.

his hips roll into you harder, faster, deeper. your grip tightened on him, only making him want it all the more. you took him so well he thought, so good, like you were meant for him. you moaned into his neck, as his lips left sloppy kisses on yours. letting you know he’s here, he’s taking care of you.

his name, a jagged breath out your lips.

“don’t stop, fuck-“

he knew you were close, as your eyes started to roll back, can feel it like clouds forming before a thunderstorm, as you sing louder next to his ear.

he cursed under his breath. he chased your pleasure with his own, your legs kicked out, and he can see the tears that threatened to spill out your eyelids.

he watched it unfold, rolling his hips into you still.

inhale.

exhale.

sharp—quick.

you cry out as you ascend into nirvana, your walls clench around him as you cum, the feeling sending Hyunjin over the edge as well, he slips out of you with a hiss through gritted teeth. letting go all over your sheen skin, just below your belly button.

the only noise is both of your labored breathing and your heartbeat pounding in your ear.

Hyunjin admired your fucked out expression, you looked divine. he took his thumb and wiped the single tear that escaped from your lashes.

you cup his face in your soft palms, as he melts back into your touch. after a few moments, Hyunjin untangles himself from you, he leaves the room for a moment and comes back with a towelette he ran under hot water.

he takes it and wipes his mess clean with the most gentle motions, making sure to get every drop before throwing it in the nearby hamper, and climbed back on top of you. he kissed you deeply, you taste like sweet sunshine and salt.

hyunjin laid his head on your chest, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, it was desperately suffocating. you ran your fingers through his soft locks. your breath finally steady.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you whispered.

his head shot up, confusion plastered on his face.

“you just fucked me like that.”

“like what?”

“like… good, like so good.”

a lopsided grin appeared on his face, he hummed.

“you were better… i wanna do it again.” he whispered, hovering his lips close to yours.

you bit your lip at the thought.

“how do you want me?”

your eyes had the most devilish affair.

“on top.” he grinned.

“yeah?”

“and on your side, on your back, on the floor, in the shower, on the couch-”

you giggled. “okay okay, we can arrange all of that.” you ran your fingers through his hair.

Hyunjin adored you. you were soft, diabolically soothing to him. something about you made him weak, pathetic with yearning. it was a new sensation for him, to want something so badly the way he wanted you. dulcet and delicate, you were human apricity. he wanted to drown in your touch, your kisses, your sweet nothings and so on.

“i really thought you hated me, Hyunjin.”

“i know. i thought you hated me.”

“i did….”

he chuckled. “i know.”

“im sorry.”

“don’t be. we both had our reasons.”

“missed this,” you started, admiring his features. “missed you.”

he smiled, getting giddy at your sudden confession.

“yeah? i missed you too, princess.”

you held you tighter. his warmth was more than soothing, it was needed, there was something about him that felt like home.

the two of you stayed like that for a a while, in each other’s arms.

“are you free tomorrow night?” he asked.

“for?”

“are you?”

“well, hmmm, i’ll have to check my schu-“

he sighed loudly, causing you to giggle.

“yes hyunjini, why do you ask?”

“i wanna take you out, like on a date. possibly, maybe? unless this is a one time for you. i’ll respect it.—but just know, i’ll remember, even when im married with kids, i’ll still think of you, on nights when im drinking and self inflicted or-”

“you’re so dramatic, you know that?”

you couldn’t help but smile at his words. “but no, i don’t think that’ll happen, you just created a problem.”

“how so?”

Hyunjin propped himself up on one arm beside you, he took his slender fingers and traced the center off your body all the way down.

“because you’re gonna have to rip me off of you, pretty boy.” your tone like silk.

“hm, it might be the other way around.” he grinned.

you pulled him into a tender kiss. letting it linger, there was no rush, Hyunjin felt warm and familiar. he felt solid and safe. you wanted to cling to his skin. bury yourself in his chest. he touched you like you were everything he had asked the heavens for. the pretty boy with pretty eyes and pretty hair, all yours in this moment.

∘₊✧─────────────────────✧₊∘

omg omg, hi this took forever, life has been so hectic, i apologize. i hope the wait was worth it :,) i had so much fun writing this. i plan to post more hyunjin x reader so i hope u stay a while. ty ty for reading. <3

#hyunjin #skz hyunjin #hwang hyujin imagines #hwang hyunjin #skz fanfic #skz #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz smut #skz x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #stray kids #smut

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natsukicookies · 1 month ago

Text

The sinful allure

Summary

What you thought was the life of a side character turned out to be the life of the main character!

On your 18th birthday, you discover you're a succubus, and everything you thought you knew about yourself changes.

What’s more, your newfound powers don’t just come with supernatural abilities—they make you act... different. Flirty, confident, and completely unlike your usual shy self.

As if that wasn’t enough, the Batboys have somehow gotten tangled in your life. Balancing secrets, powers, and the chaos they bring? Yeah, happy birthday to you.

< masterlist > chap 1

Your eyes couldn’t leave your phone’s screen as they were locked onto the calendar app. You eyed a specific date with barely contained anticipation noticing that your birthday was approaching. In just a few days, you would turn 18. You were finally going to be an adult. You weren't sure if you felt excited or anxious-maybe a little of both.

With a sigh, you tried to focus back on the teacher's lecture, though your mind was elsewhere.

Turning 18 meant you'd finally be the same age as everyone else in your year.

The class ended, before you realise that, whatever the teacher spoke went in one ear and out the other, Fantastic! Now you were clueless about the chapter and would have to head to the library to study. "Just amazing," you muttered sarcastically under your breath.

As you left the classroom, someone bumped into you in a hurry. "Sorry!" the guy called out as he rushed past. You recognized him instantly-Tim Drake, one of Bruce Wayne's adopted sons, and one of the richest guys in Gotham.

He's one of the 3rd years, in the computer science major, same as you. The two of you even share some of your classes. And yet despite this.

You hadn't talked to him, or really to anyone at this college if you were to be honest. You were more of an introvert... wait, don’t introverts also have friends, but you didn't. A small laugh escaped you at the thought.

It wasn't always like this though,. You used to have friends, but then COVID happened, and all your social skills vanished. There wasn’t much to begin with, but it dropped to zero after that.

And iIf that wasn't bad enough, your mom got transferred to another city for her work, and guess what? It was Gotham City, the crime capital. Thankfully, the one year you'd spent here had been normal,well as normal as it could be in Gotham.

Being suddenly moved, in the middle of your last year of high school mind you, wasn't great. By the time you arrived everyone had their own friend groups, and you didn't fit into any of them. Your lack of social skills not helping either.

High school came and went, college started, but your chances of making friends? Nope, that still seemed like a pipe dream that would never happen.

You headed to your next class, passing the art club where you overheard people talking about Damian Wayne.

Another Wayne? You rolled your eyes at the name. You weren't really fond of the rich kids- most of them weren't great.

But then again, this was Gotham State University, and a lot of rich kids were here. To this day, you still had no idea how your mom managed to get you into this college. Did her job really pay that much? Definitely not.

Not caring much about it, you took a seat in an empty spot and watched the day fly by.

That was your norm- going to college, judge people,head home to do your course work and other stuff, then repeat, it was a cycle

It was seriously boring.

Guess that's the life of a side character for you.

Your attention shifted as you heard your name being called by your mom. "Are you still wearing that pendant?" Of course, that was the question she always asked. You knew her obsession with that pendant all too well. Whenever you were asked, she would respond with, "You must wear that pendant forever and never take it off, even for a second."

At this point, you were used to it, but still, her asking the same question every week for years kind of got on your nerves. "Yes, Mom, I am." You couldn't help but roll your eyes as you continued to watch TV.

Your mom did her usual routine, reminding you not to open the door for strangers (typical mom) and telling you what food was in the refrigerator before heading off to work.

Your mom was hardly home; like 90% of the time, she was at work. You didn't blame her for that now that you were older. She was a single mom working hard to support both of you.

Well, you tried not to blame her, at least. But there were still those moments.

Now the movie you were watching didn't seem fun anymore because of those thoughts. Cursing under your breath, you turned off the TV and headed to your room, passing by the mirror.

Stopping in your tracks and stepping back, you stared at your reflection. You looked normal; nothing seemed out of place, but you could have sworn you saw something whilst walking past it.

You shrugged it off and went to your room, chalking it up to your imagination.

The next few days went by and it's the night before your birthday. You're alone in the house, because of course your mom has work to take care of.

The next few days passed in a blur, and soon it was the night before your birthday. You were alone in the house, of course, since your mom had to work -again.

You were her only child, yet she didn't even have time for your 18th birthday. "Amazing mom," you muttered, trying to push down the bitterness creeping in. You scrolled aimlessly through your phone, distracting yourself from the thoughts swirling in your mind.

You watched the clock hit 11:48 and decided you might as well get that cupcake out and blow some candles- that's the only thing you can blow anyway.

As you moved around the kitchen, you kept catching glimpses of strange things out of the corner of your eye-like objects floating slightly before settling down. But every time you turned, everything seemed perfectly normal.

You shook your head, Maybe you were getting sleepy? You really hoped that was the case because you were not up for a ghost fight on your birthday.

By the time you set up the cupcake, the clock read 11:58. Just two more minutes, and you'd officially be 18- meaning you won't be able to use your 'sir I'm a minor' card but hey, you could at least legally drink wine now... if you could afford any.

You quickly lit up the candle and waited till the clock hit 12

"Happy birthday to me" you wished right on midnight as you closed your eyes to blow out the candle "I hope for a change this year"

Opening your eyes expecting to see the same old living room only to be met with a pair of bloody red eyes staring at you from High up.

A wave of fear washed over you making your body freeze. As you took in your surroundings, you were indeed not in your living room anymore. This wasn’t what you meant when you wished for a change this year...

"Worry not, my child," a deep voice echoed. you can't see its face or what it is, all you see is a shadow like figure on a throne which was placed on.... your eyes widened as you realized it was human skulls.

Oh you were a goner, you just knew it.

"You are not a goner" Did he- guessing by the voice- read your thoughts? You weren't even gonna question how, none of this was making sense so it's better to just not use the logical side of your brain and just roll with it.

"You must have a lot of questions," he spoke, amusement clear in his voice, as he rested his cheek on his hand.

You nodded, you definitely did.

"Good, let's add one more" he pointed at you, more specifically at your clothes.

"Huh?" You looked down and felt your face heat up. Your outfit wasn't the one you'd been wearing-it was something much more revealing, leaving you scrambling to cover yourself with your hands.

"What is going on?" you stammered, cheeks flushed.

The figure burst into laughter, seeming to enjoy your reaction a little too much. Finally, after calming down, he explained.

According to him, you were a succubus. A... what now?!

And hence the reason for things floating around in the air and you seeing stuff in the mirror.

Did it make sense? No, absolutely not. Was he gonna explain more? It didn't seem like it.

"So you’re saying.... that I have to have.... sex with.... guys now?" you asked, cutting to the question weighing on your mind

"Girls work too," he replied you could hear the smirk from his tone.

Your jaw dropped at his casual response. "Girls work too"? This was insane. You barely managed to talk to people as it was, and now you were expected to seduce them? The thought alone made you want to dig a hole and hide in it.

"So, let me get this straight," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "You're telling me that, overnight, I turned into... a succubus. And now I have to... you know... with people? Just to survive?"

The shadow figure leaned back in his throne, still smirking. "That's the short version, yes. But it's not quite as dire as you're imagining." He seemed amused, as if he could see the whirlwind of emotions playing out on your face. "You'll get used to it. Besides, a succubus's charm is automatic. Your appeal will increase naturally, even without you trying."

You blinked, taking a shaky breath. This was all too much. "But why me? Why now? I've gone my whole life without... without feeling like this."

"That's the way it works," he said simply. "Eighteen is the age when your powers awaken. And now that they have, you'll start to feel new urges and... influences."

Influences? That didn't sound reassuring.

"Here's how it works," he continued, clearly enjoying your unease. "When you're in your succubus form, your personality will shift to help you attract... let's say, energy sources. You won't even recognize yourself. And in your regular form, you'll be-"

"Shy and quiet?" you guessed dryly, crossing your arms over your revealing outfit. "Because that's how I normally am."

"Precisely," he replied, giving you an almost fatherly nod. "But in your other form, you'll become... well, let's call it 'confident.' All of this will be second nature soon enough."

This wasn't exactly reassuring, but you nodded, still struggling to process everything. Then a thought struck you, and you bit your lip. "So... if I need energy, does that mean I... you know... with anyone who-"

"Relax," he cut in smoothly. "You don't have to go that far if you're not comfortable with it. Succubi draw energy in a lot of ways: touch, presence, even just eye contact. What matters is connection. The deeper the connection, the stronger the energy you receive."

You let out a sigh of relief. That, at least, took some pressure off. But even then, none of this felt remotely possible for you.

"How will I even know when to... when to switch forms or get energy? I have no idea what I'm doing!"

The figure let out an amused chuckle "Ah, but that's the fun of it, isn't it? You'll learn as you go. The instincts are within you, even if they're dormant right now. When you need them, they'll surface."

He rose from his throne, the shadowy shape growing even larger as he seemed to loom over you. "And remember, child," he said, his voice suddenly serious. "You have a gift. Use it wisely-and sparingly. Too much charm, too quickly, could draw attention... and not the good kind."

With that final ominous warning, he snapped his fingers, and the room around you began to swirl and blur, as if reality itself was being pulled out from under your feet.

Before you could react, you found yourself back in your living room, alone and staring at the cupcake in front of you, the candle still flickering.

You blinked, heart racing. "Did that... really happen?"

Just then, your phone buzzed, snapping you back to reality. A birthday text from your mom.

You ignored the message and blew out the candle, the excitement from earlier completely drained. As you reached out to remove the candle, you froze. Your clothes... they hadn't changed back to normal.

So, that really did happen...

Heart pounding, you ran to the mirror. Standing in front of it, you realized two things. First: you actually looked... really hot. And second: your appearance had changed. Your eyes were now a striking pink, and small, barely-there horns peeked out from the top of your head.

Curious, you reached up to touch one of them- only to let out a surprised whine. Sensitive. Those little horns were tiny but extremely sensitive.

"How do I change back to normal?" you muttered with a nervous laugh,thinking of every scenario this could go wrong.

Shoulders slumping, you trudged back to your cupcake, peeled off the wrapper, and stuffed the whole thing into your mouth. You probably looked like a chipmunk, but who cared? You had bigger problems-like, for instance, the horns or the bright pink eyes.

As you chewed, you couldn't help but wonder who-or what-that shadowy figure was. He seemed to know way more than he was letting on.

But... how exactly were you supposed to summon him again? You tried doing a strange little "summoning dance," waving your arms around in a circle, but nothing happened.

Wait a second. Weren't succubus supposed to have superpowers? That would be amazing! You'd always wanted powers like Superman or Wonder Woman.

The real problem was... how on earth were you supposed to activate these so-called powers?

Stepping out onto the balcony, you stared at... the wall across from you. Not the most inspiring view-just the brick wall of the building next door, practically in arm's reach. You let out a sigh. "Well, it's not like I'm swinging across rooftops anytime soon," you muttered.

Still... maybe you could try something. Like super strength! Or maybe some kind of powerful leap? Not that you were about to actually jump off the balcony- you weren't that reckless, but if you had powers, how were you supposed to... what, think power on? Activate?

You stretched your arms forward dramatically. "Powers, activate!" Nothing happened. You waved your hands around a bit, wiggled your fingers, even struck a ridiculous pose for good measure. Nada.

"Well, that's disappointing," you grumbled, heading back inside quietly before anyone saw you looking like a wannabe superhero.

Or so you tried to-until you stepped right onto that one loose board on the balcony. The next thing you knew, your ankle twisted in the ridiculously high heels that came with this outfit, and suddenly, you were tilting forward with nothing to grab onto.

And just like that, you found yourself tumbling over the edge.

"Oh, crap! Crap, crap, crap!" you screamed in panic as you fall from the third floor, arms flailing like a bird that had no idea how to fly.

Your mind raced in pure panic as the ground rushed closer. 'This is it' you thought. You just became a succubus and You're about to be a splat on the pavement. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for impact.

But... it never came.

Instead, you felt a strange pull at your core, and you slowed down, hovering just a few feet above the ground. You opened your eyes cautiously, and sure enough, you were floating there mid-air, bobbing slightly like a very confused balloon.

You blinked, stunned. "Did I... just fly?"

Testing it out, you tried to move forward. You wobbled awkwardly, managing to drift a few feet before tilting sideways, nearly tipping over. Okay, this was gonna take some practice.

Still floating, you managed to get back up to your balcony, though not without a few embarrassing bumps along the way.-we don't talk about that- When you finally got back over the railing and landed safely, you let out a deep breath, half-relieved, half-excited.

"So I have powers," you muttered, grinning in spite of yourself.

And behold, this was the moment a very dumb idea went through your head. Did I mention it was dumb? Because, yeah, it was very dumb.

Without a second thought, you decided you might as well check out Gotham at night. Hey, it was a great excuse to test out your powers, right?

With that brilliant thought in mind, you stepped onto the railing of your balcony and, this time, willingly jumped off. Floating in midair, you felt that thrill again-flying was actually getting easier! Or, so you thought. One glance to the left, and suddenly you were veering off course, wobbling wildly as you struggled to stay steady.

You almost crashed right into the huge Wayne Enterprises billboard, narrowly avoiding it by flailing your arms and kicking your legs like a panicked duck.

You found yourself butt-landing onto a fire escape, the metal steps clanging loud enough to make you wince. So much for a graceful first flight.

"Ow," you muttered, rubbing your sore backside. At least you didn't end up face-first in a dumpster. That was something, right?

You pushed yourself up, dusted off, and looked around to make sure no one had seen that very professional landing.

Thankfully, this part of Gotham is usually empty half the time, sparing you from total embarrassment.

You considered that maybe flying wasn't the best idea after all, so you opted for the stairs instead-only to regret that decision a second later.

Those metal stairs combined with your high, pointy heels-which you had no idea how you managed to walk in-were a disaster waiting to happen. Your heels kept getting stuck in the small gaps between the stairs, turning what should have been a simple task into a clumsy game of balance.

Somehow, you managed to get down the stairs and stayed in the shadows, not wanting to attract unwanted attention. As you walked, you stumbled upon what appeared to be a bank robbery.

The bank was small, tucked away in a shady area-no wonder there were no police around. Let's be honest: the police in Gotham really don't do shit anyway. And God knows where vigilantes were...

You gripped the little clothing you had on, your feet glued to the floor-not because of the metal stairs this time, but out of sheer hesitation.

Here's the thing: you may have newfound powers, but you weren't a vigilante. You had no idea how to fight or even how to use your abilities yet. Rushing in recklessly to save people you didn't even know? Not the best plan.

Plus, Batman or one of his allies would probably show up and handle the situation, right?

That was the plan, right...?

Then a loud scream echoed through the air, followed by a gunshot, and your heart stopped. Someone could be dead right now, and you had the power to save them.

But you weren't a vigilante; you were merely a succubus, a very new one too.

"Go," a calm but familiar voice echoed in your ear, and before you could process what was happening, you found yourself sprinting toward the bank. Peering through the windows, you spotted three masked men holding a few bank staff hostage. Luckily, there weren't any customers inside-thankfully, they were closed for the night.

If you remembered correctly, the shadow figure had mentioned that you had the ability to charm people. Maybe that could come in handy?

Glancing around, you searched for a way in. The front door was clearly not an option, and as you walked around the building, you didn't find a back door either. But then, you spotted it: a bathroom window just large enough for you to squeeze through.

Were you seriously about to do this?

You took a deep breath, letting the anticipation wash over you. "You're supposed to do crazy things on your 18th birthday, right?" With an awkward laugh, you opened the window and began to climb in-only to find yourself stuck halfway through, your legs kicking awkwardly as you tried to free yourself.

"Yeah no I'm not going to end up being the stuck stepsister of the night," you muttered, finally wriggling yourself free and tumbling into the small bathroom with a thud.

You glanced around, taking a moment to catch your breath. "Okay, focus," you whispered to yourself.

It seemed the loud thud had caught the attention of one of the thieves, and the door swung open to reveal one of them standing in front of you, gun in hand.

"Um..." you stammered awkwardly, standing there like a deer caught in headlights. How were you supposed to charm this guy again?

You tried winking-after all, that's what people do to charm someone, right?

"Who the fuck are you?" he growled, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation.

Yep, that didn't work at all. You were definitely done for.

"I... I'm just a girl," you blurted out, trying to sound as harmless as possible.

But instead of calming him down, your words seemed to fuel his anger. He raised the gun and fired, but thankfully, you managed to duck just in time, letting out a small scream as you covered your head with your arms.

"Actually... you don't look so bad," he said, his eyes darkening as he sized you up with a new, unsettling interest.

You cringed at his words, hearing his footsteps approach as he towered over your crouched form. Just as he leaned in to grab you, you shot up, your head colliding with his chin. He staggered backward and dropped to the floor, completely knocked out.

Wait... did that actually work? That hadn't exactly been your plan, but hey, you weren't complaining.

Seeing him sprawled out on the ground made you feel a spark of confidence. You grinned and stepped over his unconscious form, making sure to grind your heel into the hand that had nearly grabbed you. "Oh," you muttered, noticing his gun. Quickly, you grabbed it-you might need a little extra help.

Alright, one down, two more to go.

Peeking out the door, you saw one of the other robbers tapping his foot impatiently. "What's taking that idiot so long?" he grumbled, glancing around.

Most of the bank staff were tied up, while two unlucky ones were filling a bag with cash at gunpoint. You bit your lip, trying to think. Maybe you could lure one of them away? You definitely can't two men at once, especially since this was your first time.

"Where are the vigilantes when you need them?" you mumbled, pressing your face into your palm in frustration. "If only I could turn invisible..."

Suddenly, you noticed your hand start to go translucent. You stared, wide-eyed, as the rest of your body began fading too. "I'm not freaking out... I'm not freaking out... I'm freaking out!" you whispered to yourself, resisting the urge to yell.

You'd wanted to turn invisible, but this was surreal-like being a ghost!

Were you going to complain? Absolutely not. After your momentary panic, a wicked grin spread across your face. you rubbed your hands together like a fly- wait why like a fly?

You crept out of the door without a sound, approaching one of the robbers. With a swift punch to his face, he crumpled to the ground, catching the attention of his partner. Before he could react, you followed up with a well-placed kick to his...pp area. Both men went down, groaning on the floor.

Quickly, you gathered their weapons, but after glancing around, you realized you didn't have any rope or anything to tie them up with. Letting out a sigh, you began thinking of your next move, when your ears picked up stood steps approaching.

It seems your senses have been improved.

The front doors burst open, and a vigilante strode in. You quietly tiptoed to the side, raising an eyebrow. What kind of hero just barges in through the front door? You rolled your eyes, watching as he surveyed the scene in confusion.

Just as you thought you could slip out, he whipped out a baton and threw it your way. "Wha-!" You barely managed to dodge it, shooting him side eyes.

"Can't have you sneaking away now, can I?" he said smoothly, his gaze following your movement. Wait... could he see you? You glanced down, still invisible. How did he know?

Picking your jaw off the floor, you started to say something, but quickly changed your mind. He was nightwing, trained by Batman himself, so of course he'd sense someone was there.

You let out a small sigh and turned off your invisibility, meeting his now slightly widened eyes. He recovered quickly, though, looking unfazed.

"There's one unconscious in the bathroom," you said confidently, gesturing with a nod toward the door.

He glanced down at the two men on the ground, too dazed to move. "You... did all this?"

You nodded, but before he could ask another question, you bolted toward the door-or at least, you tried to. Just as you were about to step outside, his hand shot out, grabbing you firmly and stopping you in your tracks.

"Ah-!" you squeaked, pausing with a pout. "I'm not a villain," you insisted, crossing your arms with as much indignation as you could muster.

He raised an eyebrow. "Then who are you?"

You blinked, holding his gaze, before a mischievous smirk spread across your face. Your eyes glowed a little more pink as you leaned in, voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "The girl who's going to haunt your dirtiest dreams."

Before he could even react, you somehow slipped out of his grip, leaving him standing there bewildered as you sprinted out of the bank.

Not looking back, you floated all the way back to your apartment, bumping into things left and right. Each impact made you cringe a little harder-not just from the bumps, but from the embarrassing line you'd dropped earlier. "The girl who will appear in your dirtiest dream?" Seriously? You wanted to disappear just thinking about it.

As soon as you got inside, you headed straight for the couch, burying your face in a pillow with a groan. The scene replayed in your head on a loop for a good 30 minutes before you finally managed to shift your focus to something else: how on earth to turn back to normal.

Rolling onto your side, you caught a glint of something under the coffee table. Reaching out lazily, you pulled it closer and realized it was the pendant-the one you were supposed to keep on you at all times. Without thinking, you slipped it back around your neck.

And just like that, your clothes transformed back to normal.

You rushed over to the mirror and sure enough, you looked like yourself again-mostly. Your eyes still held a slight hint of pink, but you doubted anyone would notice.

Curious, you decided to test your theory. Taking off the pendant, you watched as the tiny horns reappeared. So that was the trick!

"Oh, cool" you mumbled under your breath, putting it back on.

Maybe it was the adrenaline finally wearing off, or the sheer chaos of tonight catching up with you, but you felt yourself teetering on the edge of exhaustion, just one step away from crashing right there in the living room.

But no-somehow, you managed to scrape together the last bit of energy to drag yourself toward your bedroom. Your steps were slow, heavy, almost zombie-like. If anyone saw you now, they might actually mistake you for the undead, stumbling down the hall with only the thought of collapsing on your bed keeping you moving.

You let out a tired sigh, replaying flashes of the night in your mind. The discovery, the thrill, the whole insane twist your life took in just a few short hours. And now...you were supposed to go back to normal? Act like this was just another day at college?

Flopping onto your bed, you closed your eyes, leaving the problems to the future you to deal with as you let the sleep fairy take you to the dreamland.

Yall thank @purplexing-writing-and-concepts for beta reading it <33

I have no idea when chap 1 will be out, hopefully in a month or so.

✎ ∙︓⋅⠄✯∘⠄✧

Taglist: @xingyunny @4rachn3

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pseudowho · 10 months ago

Text

Red

Nanami Kento, the infamous Curse User, is finally captured and sentenced to death after years on the run. The reader feels her grasp on morality quickly unravel, when her ex-boyfriend breaks down any inhibitions she thought she still had.

Warnings: 18+, smut, MDNI, Bad!Nanami, really a reprehensible man, rough sex, bondage, forced orgasm, multiple sessions, coercion, dubcon, tw: gaslighting, tw: abuse, reader is obsessed and hopelessly in love, and Nanami Kento takes full advantage of that.

*I absolutely do not endorse a relationship like this, and I must insist that anyone who reads this sees it as the red flag it is...ANYWAY...*

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You felt sick to your stomach.

"They caught him. Did you hear?"

You stumbled through the rain, barely composed, your heart in your mouth. Anxious desperation clawed up your spine, on your way to get the fix that you had been withdrawing from for so long.

"Yeah, Gojo got him, obviously. No, no, he's alive, for now."

Mud spattered up the backs of your legs, tripping through puddles, passing under rain-hush willows, Torii gates, and so many graves filled by his hand. His hands that you knew. His hands that knew you, so intimately, a body and soul so untouched by anyone else ever since and ever again.

"Nanami Kento. The Nanami Kento...scheduled for execution. Finally."

You reached corridors, a caretaker shouting in indignation as you tracked mud all over his freshly polished floorboards. You gained speed, running, ready for his face his hands his smell his eyes his body his heart and yours that was always his forever his still his--

"You shouldn't go in there." Your hand retracted so briefly over the handle of the door to the execution chambers. Feeling cold drip down your spine, not knowing if it was rainwater, sweat, or Gojo's voice behind you, you shivered. You felt him approach. A long hand on your shoulder; protective, apologetic, grieving.

"I...I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be this way. But you shouldn't go down there. He's...bad for you." You sniffed, straightening yourself, steeling against him. Gojo was so insignificant to you in this moment. "Are you keeping watch? Is there anyone else?" Gojo sighed, knowing better than to argue with you, feeling dread creep through him regardless. He leaned back on the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast. You heard your own heartbeat, amplified hummingbird's wings. You heard the rain, cleansing on the leaves, but weighing you down with your sin. You felt the thread on your finger, trapped beneath that door and running down the stairs.

"No. No, it's just me. I...understand. Whatever you want to do, I...I understand." You felt the ghosts in this corridor. You felt the footsteps long since gone. You felt the shadows of the other half of Gojo's soul. Ah, yes, you thought, raindrops running down your cheeks, you would understand, of course.

"There will be a gap in the guard. At midnight. Just five minutes. Ten, if you're lucky." Gojo turned, facing down the corridor. You could smell the regret. The weight of his own failures haunted him. He sensed your fingers grip the handle, squeezing down, taking your life into your own hands.

He would give you this, what he had prevented you from taking five years ago. He would not see another whole broken into halves. He would not regret, for a moment now or for years to come. Behind him, your other hand, cold and damp, reached out and squeezed Gojo's. He felt the farewell upon your skin. "Thank you, Satoru. I love you." "I love you, too. Be good." You wracked with need, trembling down those spiraled steps. They took you so deeply underground, that you could feel the earthen chill of ages past upon your skin, and you welcomed the death and rebirth, shedding the life you had left at the surface.

You knew Nanami Kento would, inevitably, be your downfall. And yet...you had shared a room with death so many times, now, that you would not fear him reaching for your hand. You paused near the bottom of the stairs, soaked in the soft orange glow of ten thousand illuminated paper charms. You felt him. He beat you to it. "I can smell you." Your knees almost buckled; that voice. It ran through you, spitting hot oil in cold blood. You flurried down the rest of the steps with numb feet, rounding the corner. The breath rushed out of you, into him, and he smiled at you, so much wider than he used to, all canines and white.

Nanami Kento was bound to a small chair, barely enough to hold the sheer width of him. In this short (long too long so long) five years, he had grown from a man, to a beast, his shoulders hulking and mountainous, scars littered across his forearms and collarbones.

His white shirt was bloodstained-- mostly someone else's, you assumed, but some from Kento himself. Kento was scuffed, bruised, red at the corner of his lip. His parting remained, disheveled from his capture. His harness, the brown leather soft and aged, strained against his chest and shoulders. His blunt blade rested, leant against the wall in a dingy corner of the room.

The only thing holding back what you knew would be Kento's enormous, overwhelming power, were the ropes that restrained him. You fingered at the blade of the Cursed tool in your pocket. He was...ethereally beautiful. You felt the last vestiges of yourself pass to him, blissfully unaware he would take so much more from you yet. His smile grew, eyes full of searingly cold ice, sneering at you as tears built in your eyes.

"You're crying for me?" He cooed, soft and mocking, "Why is that? You made your choice, all those years ago." "You were the one who left." "You were the one who stayed," he growled, lurching forwards against his bonds, chest heaving and straining, snarling. Expecting you to step backwards, instead, he felt the sick satisfaction of you stepping closer instead-- drawn in by his gravity. "You didn't give me a choice, Kento," you begged, shameless, "You didn't come for me. I couldn't find you." Kento huffed, scoffing, twisting against his restraints. "Fuck off," he scorned, spitting a wad of blood to the floor, "I came for you. The night I found you in Gojo's bed, of all people." You frowned, remembering the night Kento snapped and executed two dozen colleagues in his offices, years after leaving Jujutsu High. Remembering the news reaching you third-hand, through whispers in the corridors, as you had headed to Jujutsu High to see if anyone had heard from him. Remembering Gojo's grim confirmation, how you had collapsed in his arms, carved in two. Remembering how he had taken you home with him, tucked you into his bed, where you slept fitfully, alcohol-soaked to numb the nightmares. Your stomach filled with ice water. "You were-- you were there?" You choked, tears spilling over, "At Gojo's? You were there?" "Tell me," Kento commanded, his lip curled, "how many hours it was, after you heard? How many hours before you let Gojo Satoru fuck you like some desperate little whore? How many hours it was before I found you in his bed." You shook your head, brutally injured by his venom, punctuating him with sobs and denial as his voice rose.

"Three? Four? So devastated, it took another man fucking his seed into you before you could get over the loss of your lover? And you have the fucking audacity to come in here and cry over me?" Kento strained forwards, teeth bared as he sniffed deeply, breathing out with a satisfied smirk, a laugh, deep and smoky. "Can't smell him on you now, though," he mocked, filthy and merciless, "I thought he liked pathetic little scraps like you, but I suppose one fuck was enough to tell him you belonged to someone else, just as much as he did."

Kento already knew, of course, that Satoru would not have taken you even once. Kento felt his cock swelling against his thigh with your anguished begging. "Is that what he told you? To make you leave?" Your head swam with the revelation that Kento had come back for you, the rage that Satoru had lied and sent Kento away. You shook your head, dropping to your knees before him; desperate for his approval, full of dreadful fear of rejection.

"Nobody else," you pressed, crawling forwards and squeezing his thighs with cold little hands as he scoffed again, looking away, "ever. Kento. Ever, ever, for years. There won't ever be--" Kento suppressed his smirk, reeling you in after you bit so willingly. He leaned down to you, his cock twitching at the memory of the last time you knelt between his legs, looking up at him with wide wet eyes. He allowed his breath to ghost over your neck, seeing your skin prickle. He softened his face, nectar and promise in his eyes. "...you and Gojo...you didn't...?" His voice was soft, gentle, hopeful. Your head shot up, fingers digging deeper into his thighs as your eyes brimmed over again, thrilled by his belief, his trust in you. His lips were so close to yours, that you felt his hot ashen breath upon your tongue, dragon's fire, those whiskey-soaked eyes flicking across your face. God, if I'd known it would be this easy, Kento thought, maliciously possessive, I'd have let you find me years ago. His cock twitched at the feel of your hands clawing his thighs. He imagined fucking you down into the bed while you clawed at him, struggling, gasping and crying.

"Never," you promised, chasing his face with yours, while Kento withdrew just enough to maintain a teasing closeness, "he lied. He lied to you." Kento's cock twitched again, thirsty for your desperation.

Kento smiled again, that beautiful, cloud-parting smile, and you preened into him. He hummed, leaning forwards so briefly to brush his nose against yours. Your breath left you in a shudder as his voice passed over your lips;

"That's good...good girl. I couldn't bear to think of anyone else's hands on my beautiful girlfriend."

You sunk into his sudden warmth, your hands stroking up his thighs, his hips, up his ribs and shoulders. He allowed you to embrace him like this, for just a moment. Prickling with fear, you felt the frost form over him once more. Kento sneered again.

"...she's gone though, I think. Rotting here, festering with the dregs of Jujutsu Society. Willing to live and die a pawn. Scum. Less than scum."

Kento sighed, withdrawing from you fully, his back against the chair, turning his head as you tried to cup his jaw in your hands. He shook you off, face twisted with disgust. He was thrilled to watch a part of you shrivel and recoil, before reaching out harder, begging in fractured whispers, clawing for dry land.

"You had your chance. You're too wet for my life. You couldn't do what I do, live how I live. You couldn't lie, cheat, extort, torture, murder. You're too soft." Kento's lip curled in disgust as you pressed yourself between his legs, begging, beseeching, "To think of all the cum I wasted by fucking it into you." He hoped you couldn't feel him, hard and throbbing against your belly.

"--anything you want-- I'll do anything you want-- please--"

"Please what?" Kento shot, shaking the ropes around him with thick, scarred arms, "I'll be dead before dawn. And I want some peace and quiet. You're nothing to me now."

A part of you died, shattered by his rejection. Clapping a hand over your mouth, your shivers threatening vomit, you sat back on the floor, pressing your face into your knees, sobbing and abandoned for a second time.

"It's a shame," Kento scorned, tutting, "we were beautiful, once. But I'd rather die than have you be my only fucking option."

Kento felt you break, and it was delicious.

You shook within, panicking at his imminent second abandonment...but you were more determined than ever to prove yourself to him. You would sell your soul. You would sell the lives of your fellow sorcerers. You would sell your dignity, your self-respect, your whole being. Having Kento in any form, even this cold-hearted killer, was better than the agony of his death, where you would surely die with him.

From your pocket, hands shaking, you withdrew a blade; a special grade cursed weapon, stolen, illicit. You reached around Kento, breathing deeply of the sweat, sandalwood and copper tang on his skin. You pressed the blade into the hands bound behind his chair. You turned, hesitated...and walked away.

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You could not bear to return to your apartment. You had staggered past Gojo, reeling from Kento's biting rebuttal. You had wiled away the evening in some backwater ditch of a bar, sinking into spirits and self-loathing.

You waited to be found...by him, or by your colleagues, for execution as an accomplice to his escape. You didn't care anymore. You would die at his hands, or theirs, and cling onto that final shivering bliss of his bound body against yours. Even as a good man, he had always possessed you, more than you possessed yourself.

Walking to your door just after midnight, fumbling with the keys, you let yourself in, to spend a final night alone before your inevitable execution.

The alcohol numbed your senses, the darkness close around you. You did not feel his approach, this killer in the shadows.

All at once, you felt an enormous hand clasp over your mouth, and another pinning your wrists behind your back, tugging you backwards against a body, such an immovable chilly presence. A whisper, a tongue grazing against the side of your throat.

"I want you screaming...but not yet." You arched back into Kento's body, seeking a warmth he didn't have any more. The man you knew was long-since dead.

You felt his hand loosen, drifting slowly from your mouth, to your throat, squeezing just tightly enough to make your breath hitch, examining the length of your throat from the outside with a hum. You smelled the cigarettes and whiskey on his breath.

"I'm so proud of you," Kento purred, stepping you slowly through your apartment, pushing you towards your bedroom, "such a good girl...I knew you'd pass the test." Your heart swelled with his praise, but a lingering doubt soured the edges of your tongue.

"--how did you-- s'too early, Kento-- the guard--"

"Guard?" Kento laughed, booming with genuine mirth, "Some scrap of a boy in a beanie? Please. They'll find what's left of him in the morning."

"Oh--Ino--" you felt tears prickle on your lash line, your breath leaving you with a gasp as Kento tossed you face down on your bed. You tried to turn back to look at him, but felt his hand grip the back of your neck, shoving you roughly into the sheets. You shivered, fingers clenching as you heard the telltale clink of his belt undoing, the soft shhhk-shhhk-shhhk of Kento unthreading it from his waist.

"Oh, Ino!" Kento mocked, "Shut the fuck up, before I make you shut up," his voice pitched and ruthless. His face twisted as you trembled, noting smears of blood left by his hands on your wrists. You smelled the copper tang over his sweat and stale cologne. You knew you would never reject him, already wet with the promise of him coming back for you.

Kento softened momentarily, knowing he would struggle to fit inside you if you were scared and trembling. The faintest ghost of him wanted to pull you into his arms. The ice over his old soul knew he'd break if it cracked.

Kento crawled over you, his black trousers unzipped, cock straining against the tight fabric of his boxers. He clasped your hands, binding them with his tie to the head of the bed. You were so ready for him to take back what was his, that you didn't hear his next words, rumbling and gravelly on the back of your neck.".

"Keep still, and do as you're told. I'm sure you remember the old safe word...if I care to listen."

You felt your skirt forced up to bunch around your waist, heard a fabric rrriiip of your tights and underwear being shredded away from your core. Kento breathed heavily as he knelt above you, hooking his cock and heavy balls out, stroking himself with one thick hand as his fingers jabbed between your legs, sinking between your folds with little to no regard for your pleasure.

You jolted, squeaking against the sudden intrusion. Kento letting out another rich, smoky laugh as he sunk two thick fingers into your entrance.

"...ahhh, lovely. Can you warm my fingers up for me?" Kento laughed again, drawing out into a stilted growl as he jerked his cock eagerly to your tight wet walls around his digits. You panted into the sheets, Kento releasing his cock you squeeze your arse as he fucked you with his fingers, leaving bruising fingerprints before slapping the skin harshly, groaning as your fat jiggled, flushing with the abuse.

"-- better than some common whore...shit. Such a good girl...getting me out of there. Maybe I'll keep you around...just to fuck, my sweet little cocksleeve. Or are you better than that?"

"--anything, I'll be anything you want-- Kento-- please please take me with you please--" Pleasure burned in your belly as you heard the wet slaps of his hand, masturbating himself again to the sight of his fingers moulding you to the shape of him.

You filled with a burning need to be what he wanted you to be, so exhausted by life, so bitter and ready for someone else to take control. Kento did so, gladly, withdrawing his fingers to your disappointed groan. He slapped your backside again in punishment, once, twice, three times until you learned your lesson, biting your lip against your cries.

"You'll come on my cock, or not at all," he snapped at you, impatient, with his pre-cum dripping down your folds as his cock grazed at the entrance to your prone, bound body. He rammed his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to lick him clean, low voice husky with need at the feeling of your tongue swiping over him.

Pressing one hand down on the back of your neck, before raising it to yank sharply on your hair, Kento fucked into you without warning, pressing hard, to bottom out immediately. Your scream was choked, your neck hyperextended back at the insistent pull of your hair. Your body ached and strained against his use of you, and you revelled in it, in too deep to care about how wrong it was. You stung with the size of him, always big, and so much bigger without preparation.

"--haaaah fuck-- good girl...fuck you through it-- fuck you through it-- scream all you like-- been waiting for this for so long--" Kento crushed your body flush under his, so heavy that he forced the air out of you, making you lightheaded against the raw pleasure of his cock pounding into you without mercy, simply chasing his own orgasm.

Kento's skin electrified with the sinful joy of stealing pleasure from you, ripping his shirt and harness off over his head with a fractured growl. He gripped your bound hands, slipping a hand under you to squeeze your throat, his hips slapping into you with agonising bliss. He cursed and spat against the pleasure, demeaning you and praising you in equal measure.

Breathing hard and fast, Kento saw a bead of his sweat fall to the back of your neck, and leaned down to bite you there, hard, mounting you like an animal as he fucked you harder, faster. Your clit throbbed, untouched, but you lost yourself in the deep primal ecstasy coiling in your belly. You felt the telltale twitches of his thighs and abs against your legs and back, knowing from his frantic jagged moans that Kento was about to cum, before remembering--

"Ken--Kento--oooh--ooh, Ken," you cried, whimpering as his cock bullied against your cervix, "...'m not-- not on-- pull out Ken--"

Kento jerked and groaned, grinning that wide sharp-canined grin again, his laugh leaving him in ragged breaths as his balls drew up close, ready to spill; "--fuck...pull-out? Not a--haaah-- fucking chance, without the safe word, sweetheart." Kento fucked you faster, challenging you as your cock-addled brain clasped at straws, trying desperately to remember, fuck what was it--

Kento gasped, his orgasm starting to wash over him, "Too late," he jeered, and came with a broken hushed roar, rutting his cock inside you so his seed would spurt, coating you, thick and sticky, all over your deepest walls. Kento didn't give a shit that you hadn't come-- and neither did you, trembling and mewling as his length jerked thick heavy ropes inside you.

As Kento pulled out, breathing hard, pumping his length a few more times to spill his last drops of seed across your back, he huffed out a humourless laugh, running his hand back through his hair; "'Pull out'...you'll take what I give you, and be grateful." Kento scooped up some seed, dripping from your cunt, shoving it roughly back inside you.

"What fucking use are you," he spat, ramming his fingers in you until you sobbed, squirming around him, "if you can't even keep my cum inside you? Pathetic." Your breath hitched, tears spilling over at his brutal mockery. Seeing your tears, hearing the lump in your throat, Kento cooed at you, clasping your jaw in one thick hand.

"Oh darling...don't be sad...just be better." He slapped at your cheek a few times, too stinging to be tender, pressing a hot wet kiss just beneath your eye. He stood up, stretching, padding over towards the door.

"I need a drink." Kento mused aloud. You pulled yourself up the bed, still tightly bound, clamping your legs together to keep his cum inside and win his approval. You almost wept with the bitter ache in your shoulders and arms, how your pussy stung, how worthless he thought you were. You heard the clink of bottles and glass in the kitchen.

Kento returned, sitting in the chair at the end of your bed, naked, legs crossed, as he poured himself a full glass of whiskey. You could not see him, your face pressed into the pillow. You couldn't see the cold, impassive gaze upon your bound, shivering form. You couldn't see the way he idly played with his cock, slowly stroking life back into it as his cum glistened on your folds.

"Let's play a game," Kento proposed finally, as sleep began to creep across you, "and if you win, I'll take you with me. If you lose, I'll leave you here for the dogs." Kento took a long drink, draining his glass with a satisfied hum, his cock now half-erect against his thigh.

Your determination peaked again, so certain you could make things right, and make Kento love you like he used to. You were a void, yearning to be filled.

"Yes, I-- I can do it-- anything," you pressed, voice strong and bold now, eager to shed the shell he had left you in. Kento refilled his glass, almost to the brim, grinning wolfishly. He reached into your bedside drawer, tipping his head and raising his eyebrows at you with a smirk, withdrawing a vibrator, and a dildo.

"So confident," Kento teased, a shadow of the way he used to play with you when he was softer, more restrained. He couldn't deny the flicker of joy he had felt at the old you, briefly rearing her head.

Kento emptied his hands for long enough to flip you to your back, binding your arms to the bed again, ripping your shirt and bra open at the middle, exposing your breasts and belly. Kento grabbed your nipple roughly, yanking it until you squealed, slapping it hard with a gravelly chuckle.

"Don't spill my drink." Kento ordered, picking his glass up, placing it on your chest, between your breasts. You faltered, stock still, staring up at him, uncertain.

"...I-- what?" Kento's slim brown eyes burned down at you, teasing the dildo against your sloppy cunt, before ramming it into you. You instinctively moved to squirm away with a cry, understanding almost a moment too late, the meniscus of the whiskey kissing the lip of the glass. You stilled completely, shuddering at the cold rubber filling your cunt to the belly, squelching with Kento's cum.

Kento hissed between his teeth, face twisted with nasty glee. He looked so animated, so alive with this hedonistic torture, such a far cry from who he once was.

"Close," he taunted, leaning down to brush his lips over yours, pulling away as you moved to kiss him, satisfied to hear you swear under your breath as he denied you. Kento flipped the wand vibrator in his hand deftly, switching it on and clicking to max out the vibration.

"Don't...spill my drink." Kento repeated slowly, pressing the brutally vibrating wand directly against your clit.

You saw stars, your body moving to convulse reflexively, and you gritted your teeth, eyes fixed on the wobbling glass on your sternum. Your legs shook, the pleasure too harsh to be enjoyable, feeling yourself being unwillingly dragged towards a bone-wracking orgasm.

"Kento please-- please stop please please-- I can't do it I can't keep still I can't--" You babbled at Kento, tears streaming, certain he may not acknowledge your safe word even if you did squeeze it out. Only your desperation to win him back stopped you from even trying.

"Then die here." Kento shrugged, stroking himself again as he pressed the wand harder against your clit, thrilled to hear you scream in anguish. Your orgasm hit you with stunning force, harsh wracks of pleasure pounding through you as your body remained rigid. Still, the whiskey did not spill.

Your teeth gritted around your cries, and you met Kento's eyes with a ferocity that used to make him hard in seconds. His cock twitched in his hand in memory, pre-cum dripping down to wet his fingers. Baring his teeth in a snarl now, Kento knelt between your legs, grabbing the dildo and fucking it into you with harsh strokes, pressing harder with the punishing vibrations of the wand.

Your body was on fire, every part of you burning, from bruised bound wrists, to your feet, crackling with electric overstimulation. You cursed, spitting out tearful bile at Kento.

"--Kento-- stop it-- you fucking monster-- I hate you-- you fucking left me and I hate you so just stop it--"

Kento grinned, growling out as he continued his messy overstimulation of you; "There! There she is! That's my girl...make me proud!...shit, you're a mess. Don't spill it now." As another orgasm hit you, a primal hideous landslide, you screamed with your head thrown back, woefully unable to dissipate the pleasure through movement.

Suddenly full of unbridled rage, the years of grief and abandonment pouring out of you, you snapped, certain you wanted to hurt him as he had hurt you.

The glinting madness in Kento's eyes, the way his hand worked his rigid cock harder as he released his grasp on the dildo, now ramming it back into you with his knee...he wanted this. He wanted you pouring with spite. With rage. He wanted the venom and the hatred. He wanted the raw unbridled loyalty that you promised him through this humid obsession.

"--let me go-- KENTO. I'm warning you--"

Kento laughed, rich and earthy, as he gripped you by the throat, pinning you to the bed. Your body was exhausted, groaning, all bone-deep and guttural aches. By the time your third orgasm hit, you were floppy, the whiskey glass tilting on you just too sharply--

--before being snatched up by Kento, who drained it in one thirsty gulp. Pulling the sex toys out of you and tossing them aside, Kento moved to line his cock up with your entrance. Full of tearful anger, you kicked, hard, fighting back against him as he laughed, encouraging you-- "Fight me-- come on girl, COME ON--"

Kicking out again, spitting acid at Kento, berating him for leaving you, berating him for the twisted hatred you had endured alone for the miserable job you did, you cried, all bitter spite and loneliness. Kento caught your legs, forcing them open, pressing himself between them. He jabbed his cock between your folds as you squirmed, struggling up the bed, until Kento folded over you, grasping you by the back of the neck, and pulling you up for a searing kiss-- the first time you had tasted him in years.

Kento took advantage of your gasp, and invaded you with his tongue and cock, fucking sloppily between your legs, cursing into your mouth, until he met your entrance, slamming himself in to the hilt. Kento gripped you by the hips, thrusting into you while he slammed your pussy against him. He immediately set a feral pace, intent on claiming the last scraps of you, if he couldn't get you out of Jujutsu society alive. "--not gonna-- haaah-- let you die here-- fuck, good girl, good fucking girl, take it-- FIGHT ME--"

Every time you tried to buck and kick, and throw him out of you, Kento cupped your jaw, kissing you just like he used to, disarming you as you bit into his forearm planted beside your cheek. Kento kept up his punishing pace, reaching up to release the belt as he groaned into your throat, biting the delicate skin there. The briefest flicker of warmth passed over him, to feel your hands clutch at his chest, still trying weakly to push him off you. Kento reveled in your fight, your incessant struggling beneath him making his need to cum, to fill you again and make you his, urgent. You felt this in him, in his trembling arms and sloppy thrusts, all at once splitting you in two and completing you. Relenting, you allowed him to claim your mouth again, lips smooth and supple against yours, whiskey on his breath. Kento couldn't last any longer, and didn't want to; he finished with a broken rumble, all groans and whispered curses in your hair. Crushing you to the bed beneath his hulking body, you whimpered to feel his cock twitch and bound inside you, filling you again with sweet ache and seed. Kento rested on you, ignoring your gasping little breaths as you saw stars, buried beneath him. Swallowing away the lump in your throat, your mind swam with your fates; killed in battle or executed or on the run or hiding with filthy curse users or begging the higher-ups for mercy but all alone every one of them alone-- "...come with me." You blinked. Kento's back still heaved with exertion, his face buried in your neck. You felt a twinge, a prickle down your spine-- Cursed energy, approaching from a distance. "You have to decide...there's no time. I lie. I steal, and extort. I blackmail. I murder. I live in...in absolute luxury. You will never want for anything, while you're with me-- but you must be with me." You smiled. Another door had opened. Kento was the easiest decision you ever made.

762 notes · View notes

etherealily · 8 months ago

Text

𝒮𝐻𝒜𝑅𝒟𝒮 // 🇳🇦🇹🇪 🇯🇦🇨🇴🇧🇸.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Warnings : Dark. SFW, but discretion advised. Slur used.

This one is loooong.

Part 1 : Whiplash

Part 2 : 9 Lives

Part 3 : Blessed

Part 5 : Eighteen

Part 6 : Sin

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : Bender? Nah, bend...her (to your will).

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

Nate didn't really seem the type to get anxious.

Okay, scratch that. He got anxious when you weren't there to high-five him before a game.

But even that didn't come close to whatever the fuck he was feeling when he called you that evening, yelling as if you'd killed his fucking cat, or something.

"Come faster, come faster!", he urged, ignoring you as you informed him you were only human, and you were on your way as fast as possible. The lewd joke was right there, and he didn't take it. Something was seriously wrong.

"Why the hell are you so jumpy?"

"I'll explain when you get here. Slight change of plans. You're wearing something... conservative, yeah?"

"What?"

"Like, jeans and a T-shirt is fine, I guess.", he muttered, on the other end of the line, as if he was mentally picturing exactly what he wanted you to be wearing.

"Did you think my original plan was to show up in lingerie?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, stop being so fucking defensive!"

That was a slur that you just heard in his voice. "Are you drunk?"

"You're scarily good at this."

"Why are you drunk already?" Wasn't even dark yet.

"Can you just fucking drive, please?"

You rolled your eyes, taking a small moment to sadistically picture his head caught in the wheel, before placing your phone down and speeding up the car that unfortunately had to relive the trauma of driving because Nate Jacobs told it to.

The Jacobs household was infuriatingly stereotypical. Of course he'd have a pretty spectacular front doorstep. It was almost designed to lure you in.

You weren't even allowed to ring the doorbell, he answered the door much before. That was a shame. You wanted to be the one forcing him to come somewhere reluctantly, for once.

"Don't speak unless spoken to." Well, hello to you, too.

"What?"

"It's not just us."

No, no, no, no.

"Nate, you fucking asshole.", you hissed.

"I didn't know! My brother found out you were coming over and told my parents, so they cancelled plans to meet you."

"Why?"

"'Cause our Dad's a jerk, and my Mom's probably going to judge you, and my brother's a coward who hates me."

That was way too much Jacobs drama for one single minute, and you were not even two steps into the house.

"Wait, just-"

"It's fine, just sit next to me, shut up, and don't like... make eye contact."

"Am I meeting your family or getting into the cage with a fucking tiger?"

"Also, don't cuss.", he warned, pointing a finger at you and guiding you by your shoulders further into the abyss he called a home. "Smile. A lot."

Was it really even a normal family dinner if you had to be prepped this much? No, probably not.

"Hey, look who finally showed up!", he chuckled, the fakest breeze in his voice as he steered your shoulders towards a chair.

The rest of the Jacobs family looked up at you.

And suddenly, you'd have been fine clinging to Nate, because he was evidently the mildest of them. Rich freaks.

"Oh, the project partner." His mother, laying plates down on the table before patting your head, was a sight to behold. "Bit late.", she remarked, sickening sweetness lacing her tone as she stared pointedly at Nate behind you as if you couldn't fucking see it.

"Yeah, well, she's just learning to drive, y'know? Goes really slow."

Oh, boo-fucking-hoo, mama's boy, just say you had no intention of having your family here tonight.

"Nate, you never told me she could legally drive."

That must be the brother - the coward. He looked like he'd fucking rip you apart with just a glare.

"I didn't tell you anything.', he mumbled, more for you than him, before making his voice louder. "Y/N, this is my brother, Aaron, Aaron, Y/N."

His eyes made your skin crawl. Like you were a weapon he'd just been able to use against Nate.

"And, uh, my dad. Dad, this is, uh-"

You had no idea when your name had become so hard for him to pronounce, the way he was unable to get it out.

"Y/N, yes, I heard. I'm Cal. Cal Jacobs."

You'd take Nate forcing a gun down your throat to the feel of Cal's hand shaking yours any day.

In comparison, Nate's gun was basically the gentlest thing you'd ever be able to feel. A caress, essentially.

"Sit, sit.", he instructed, gesturing at you to do as he said in his own house or else. "So."

He was so fucking drunk. You could see it in his eyes.

Both Cal and Nate Jacobs were shitfaced.

Nate, you understood, because after hearing his description, even you seemed to need liquid courage to get through a dinner with his drunk dad.

"So.", responded Nate, blankly, as he sat down next to you, as promised.

The chairs you were on were fancy but seemed tired, in a way. Like they were putting up a strong front.

"What, pray tell, is this famous project that you've apparently been sneaking out for, according to Aaron?"

Oh, that was the problem! The sneaking out! Oh, that was okay, that was in your jurisdiction, you could just fix it. Make it sound like there was no other time to meet up. Cool cool cool.

"It's just this thing for psychology. About athletes and superstitions."

"My Nate doesn't have any superstitions. He wins because he's the best.", interjected his mother, as if you'd been holding a gun to his face and she'd just jumped in front of him. You looked at the giant plate she'd just set down. Fucking steak.

With a knowing glance at Nate, you nodded. "Yes, but jocks don't really like admitting it. So I just ask him about his buddies who do have superstitions. Seeing as he has none of his own."

You didn't bother to look at the fuck-you-so-much glare he was sending your way.

"Oh, yes, Mom, Nate's just the best. Don't you think he's just the best, Y/N?", cooed Aaron, clearly hinting at something only he and Nate were in on.

"Yes, yes, he's very good at what he does."

"What he does?"

"I mean, you are talking about him as QB, right?"

He took a gulp of water, nodding as he searched into your eyes for some tell that he'd expected you to have. "Right."

Nate subtly shook his head after you frowned at him. Let it go.

"So, you've taken psychology."

His dad didn't really seem the jerk that Nate had made him out to be. Sure, he had the whole terrifying handshake thing going, but he wasn't all bad. He was the only one with his sanity intact, and the fact that he was plastered yet normal was both relieving and mildly concerning.

"Yeah."

"How come?"

"Always been interested in how it works."

"Can you read minds?"

"Essentially."

"Read mine."

"I... don't know you well enough."

"Later, then. When we know each other a bit better. Meanwhile, dig in."

Involuntarily, your gaze turned back to the asshole you'd had the misfortune of interacting with for the past three weeks, and he nodded, either telling you you did well, or giving you permission to eat.

Either way, your mouth was now shut and would continue to be unless someone forced it open. The awkward clinks of glasses and clangs of cutlery rang through the room, battling fruitlessly to dissolve the tension.

"How's the food?"

Why was Nate trying to get you to talk?

"Oh, great, I really like it."

Nate's mother smiled at that. "Well, thanks. It's actually a new recipe I found on some obscure old cooking show tape my mother had recorded, back in her day! God, I'm telling you, those were simpler times."

Oh. So Nate hadn't cooked. Couldn't say you were surprised.

"Well, it's lovely.", you replied, smiling down at the garbage you had to put into your system. It was nothing personal, really, steak was just gross.

"I must say, Y/N, you're so much more polite than that girl. She was a real-"

"Mom. Mom.", warned Nate, shaking his head and waving his hand in front of his throat in a cut it out motion."She's friends with Maddy."

The entire table suddenly went silent, as if he'd just confirmed your involvement in a pyramid scheme. "Oh.", said Aaron, and his fucking eyes showed you he was full of pure mirth. "That's interesting."

"You're friends with both Nate and Maddy?", questioned Mrs Jacobs, as if trying so desperately to figure out your intentions for her baby boy.

"I'm friends with Maddy, and have been for... basically my whole life. And, yeah, I guess now I'm friends with Nate for the project. I don't get why it's so-"

"She's pretending to be her friend, Mom, alright? It's a childhood loyalty thing, but no one likes Maddy, she's a fu- she's not likeable."

Oh, so now Nate could suddenly write out your entire story and replace it with a script of his own making?

Acting as if she'd just dodged a cancer scare, she placed her hand on her chest, sighing in relief. "Thank god. You could've said that, dear. I was worried for a moment there."

You looked back down at the food. You couldn't shake the feeling that your lack of response had been a form of betrayal, though it was rooted in fear.

"So you and Nate are friends?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

I don't know, Aaron, why do people befriend psychopaths? To save their own asses, of course.

"I mean... what do I even say to that?", you laughed, and it was supposed to mock him, but it just showed how nervous you really were. Fuck. Blood in shark-infested waters. "I guess he's... a nice guy, so, y'know."

Even you didn't believe that. Even NATE didn't believe that.

"That's a new one."

You nodded, clearing your throat as you continued to work on slicing up your steak. All three Jacobs men watched the piece go into your mouth and you wanted to throw it right back up.

"You think he's hot?"

"What?"

"Nate. My lil' bro. You think he's hot?"

"Aaron, honestly!", muttered his mother, shaking her head as if this was all just a playful banter session. "Stop it. Nate said they're friends, so they're friends."

Your phone buzzed.

'I really didn't know they'd be here.'

'Shut up.'

'Ur doing great.'

'I said shut up.'

'Lol.'

"Nate, didn't you tell her we've got a strict no-phones-at-the-table rule?"

You stuffed the phone back in your pocket, as well as any hope you'd get out of this house anytime soon.

"I mean, you're a total smokeshow. And he's..."

"Aaron."

Aaron smirked through his chewing, winking at you. "Well, he's attracted to smokeshows. Total match. But you're, what, a cheerleader? That's his real type."

"No, I'm not a cheerleader."

He sucked in breath, sharply, tutting as he shaked his head. "Tough luck."

"Aaron.", warned Nate, sucking his teeth. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying. It's not surprising he hasn't dicked you down yet."

THAT escalated fast.

"Aaron! No cussing at the table, and especially not in front of guests.", hissed Mrs. Jacobs, as if her youngest son's entire vocabulary didn't consist of the word 'fuck'. "I'm sorry, he gets like this when he teases his brother."

"Or maybe he... oh, wait, didn't he invite you here alone first?", mused Aaron, frowning in mock curiosity.

Nate's hand found your knee under the table, patting the side of it as if he could tell you were losing it. There was some kind of psychological warfare underfoot, and you weren't in on the joke, the origin or the punchline. You were being blindsided. Let it go. Fuck what his eyes told you, you'd fucking riot if you didn't get out of there right now.

Cal, who'd been perfectly silent for all this time, leaned back in his chair, his fork down and apparently, his booze-filled blood shooting up. "I'm curious, too. In more polite words than that. Why are you and Y/N just friends?"

Okay, this was clearly not your jurisdiction. This treatment was not because he'd, like, broken curfew or something.

"Dad, we're just partners. Project partners."

"Shame. She's a knockout."

Okay, Aaron saying that was creepy enough.

"No, seriously, Y/N, you're really beautiful. Nate couldn't do better if he tried." Sounded backhanded, and it probably was. "If you're not attracted to him, it's kind of an insult to me, isn't it?", he inquired, innocently, his eyes twinkling. "Aren't I good looking?"

"What the fuck are you guys doing?" It was weird seeing Nate playing the white knight in your story and not the dragon, but hey, you'd take it.

"I mean...", continued Cal, taking a bite of his food, all the while gazing at you. "Unless your issue is just with his personality. Because then..."

What. The. Fuck.

"Y'know.", said Cal, offhandedly, as if the entire fucking table didn't know what he was implying. "Just food for thought."

"What the fuck are you guys doing?", he repeated, his voice sounding more strained by the minute.

"Nate."

"No, Mom, I will fucking cuss, if they're sitting here being fucking assholes about it!"

"Don't you DARE talk to me like that, son!", yelled Cal, and suddenly, you felt like a voyeur zooming in on someone else's life, someone else's argument, someone else's issues.

Aaron lifted up his hands in defense, standing up as well. "Hey, man, I'm just saying. You're disappointing men everywhere if you don't hit that."

"Oh, you're one to talk, you bitchless waste of FUCKING space."

"One goddamn night! One goddamned night without this bullshit, please!"

"Oh, come on, Marsha, you know full fucking well you're no innocent here! You've raised these boys up so goddamn weak that they can't even fucking do their own laundry, and CLEARLY can't fucking learn RESPECT!"

Evidently the no-cuss-rule was out.

Nate's hand slammed down on the table next to you so hard your plate shook, and suddenly, you wished you had shown up in lingerie. At least the mother would've kicked you out as soon as you'd walked in.

Your eyes stayed on your fork, the shitty fucking steak, and you waited. For what, you didn't know. But eventually, Nate sat back down, and so did the other two Jacobs men.

Okay. Phew.

And then Nate muttered 'faggot', and suddenly, Aaron was ushering you into a room - Nate's room, he informed you, in a hurry - and you were locked in. Screams, the sound of things slamming on the floor, and a distinct crack ensued.

FUCKING CHRIST.

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The light from the living room beamed into the room with the monogrammed pillows -pathetic, you had to remember to mock him for it later- about twelve minutes later.

You knew that because you'd been keeping track.

The entire evening was surrounded by a lack of clarity, and after whatever had happened out there that you were not allowed to be privy to, thankfully , you were now completely in the dark as to what the whole stiff, insinuation during dinner was all about. What, they thought you guys were hooking up, was that it?

But all that just dissipated once you saw Nate standing in the doorway, looking at you as if he had just accidentally broken your favourite toy on the playground at five years old. And he was even drunker than he was before.

And once more, you allowed your heart to break for Nate Jacobs.

Wait, no, scratch that.

Your heart broke for him, with none of your own volition. It just fucking happened.

"Are you okay?" What you were really asking was 'did he hurt you?', but you didn't say it.

He didn't respond, and instead took cautious steps toward you, as though you were a bomb he'd never learnt to dismantle before.

But the caution wore off quite fast, because suddenly, your hands were stroking his hair and he was clinging onto you like a vine. Or a python with its prey. TBD.

He kept muttering things into the crook of your neck, things that vaguely resembled 'I'm sorry', but, I mean, it was Nate.

That was usually followed by some kind of blackmail, right?

Blackmail, not pained moments when his mind led him to thoughts that made him grip tighter onto you, like the hug was his lifeline. RIGHT?

"I'm so fucking sorry."

Evidently, you'd heard him right the first time.

"It's okay. Shh. It's okay." At this point there was nothing else you could do except lie to him.

"I fucking hate him, he's a fucking asshole!", he grunted, his words muffled but strong in your hair.

"It's fine, I wasn't offended." You understood. People are weird when drunk. Not usually asking a minor to fuck them kind of weird, but maybe that was just your lack of exposure.

He pushed you away, looking at you as if you'd just suggested cannibalism or something even more sickening. "It's fine? You weren't offended? Y/N, my dad literally asked to fuck you! What, do you want him to, is that why you were looking at him like that?"

'He's sloshed, he's sloshed, he's sloshed.' , you reminded yourself, lest you punch him again.

"Nate-"

"No. I have a question.", he said, closing his eyes and then opening them wide for a moment. This told you that the liquor had just pierced his skull. "You- You fuck Shane Crestin, the biggest fucking cunt in the world, you wanna fuck my DAD, but you won't fuck ME?", he asked, his voice increasing in decibel and his finger repeatedly slamming against his chest, like he apparently wanted to do to you.

SLOSHED, SLOSHED, SLOSHED. Remember.

"Nate, I didn't fuck Shane, I don't want to fuck your dad, and I- I don't wanna fuck anyone!"

"Why not ME? Do you not like me? You think I'm a prick? I'm not good enough for your whore ass?"

"Nate, I'm just-"

"HOW ARE YOU SO FINE WITH MY DAD WANTING TO FUCK YOU?!"

"I'm not! It makes me sick, but-"

"SO WHY WON'T YOU SAY HE'S AN ASSHOLE? SAY IT! SAY IT!"

"Nate-"

"FUCKING SAY IT!"

You almost cried at how fast you had to dodge the lamp that came whizzing your way before crashing and disintegrating against the wall behind you.

It amazed you how you knew that this boy's mother and brother were probably still lingering in the same house, hearing this bullshit, and yet not a peep came out of them. Fucking jerks.

"Nate."

"I swear to god, Y/N, if you don't say it right now-"

"Fine, he's an asshole!"

He looked up at you. He didn't believe it. It's fine, you didn't give a shit anymore. It went without saying, and if he needed you to say it, he was an idiot. "Bullshit."

"You're not apologizing?"

"For what? Yelling? No, I'm not."

Deliberately obtuse, just like always.

Speaking of which, you were a hundred percent sure you'd been grazed at your temple. Your fingers returned from the site with red all over them.

"I could've been hurt." You displayed those fingers to him, right in front of the eyes, so he could better view the same scarlet gore you had to see in his first ever text to you, but he looked at them like you'd showed him his own face in the mirror.

'That's normal', his look said.

"You could've fucked my dad, too, but neither of those things happened tonight." This was what he actually said.

It was like he'd forgotten what happened two seconds ago. Like the shards of glass lying in front of his wall had always been there, and were nothing out of the ordinary.

"Okay, that's fucking it.", you scoffed, shouldering past him on your way out. You'd hoped he wouldn't stop you, but you'd known he would.

"No."

Okay, you'd expected 'wait', or something nicer.

"Shut up, Nate, don't push me."

"You're bleeding. The corner store doesn't have first-aid. I do."

He said it like that was the answer to everything. That you should never have any more questions about his actions.

You let him lead you back to the bed, the silence gnawing at you both. He seemed more than happy to let it devour him whole, seeing as he was tight-lipped and disinterested, almost, when he turned on the light in his bathroom, foraging around for his first-aid kit, or whatever.

He looked like he was about to go batshit for a second time that night, the frantic manner in which he was throwing stuff off his counter to find it, yanking the drawers open so forcefully they'd scream if they could.

Luckily, though, he found the damn thing, tossing it to you from where he stood. Catching it, you opened the box, wordlessly rummaging through for cotton or band-aids or something to keep your hand and eyes - and most importantly, mind - busy.

The cotton sitting nervously in your hand, you took tentative steps into the bathroom, wisely keeping your distance from Nate, who stood still, ruminating on something with one hand still on the drawer's handle.

You stood in front of the mirror.

The mirror lied to you. It always has, always will. Your damage looked minimal, but that was excluding the emotional one.

You looked away from your reflection's eyes to focus on the side of your forehead, and sometimes to your left, at the occassional huff that escaped him.

Mirror-you grimaced just like real-you, as you harshly rubbed at the skin around your cut. So much red.

At this point, it was impossible to avoid your own eyes, those essentially vapid pools of numbness at this point. You didn't know what was going on, and lord knew if you'd understand it even if it was explained to you like a five year old.

Because it couldn't be real. You couldn't be standing right next to the guy who almost maybe blinded you, maybe even KILLED you, had the impact been angled differently.

Your pain only seemed to be getting exacerbated the more cotton you used up. The piece of glass you were trying to remove from your temple was stubborn, like the man who helped transform it from its shape to a shard.

When you finally did remove it, you were quick to try to put a stopper to the gushing blood coming out of it, but the way you did it had you wanting to scream in agony.

"What the hell are you doing? You're supposed to dab, not rub.", he muttered, sucking in his breath sharply as he slapped your hands away, seeming furious at you for not knowing what to do after you get impaled by a piece of broken glass. "The rubbing makes it worse."

His finger turned your jaw toward him, and he snatched the cotton from you before dabbing softly at and around the wound where the little refracting fragment of glass had sat before, and intact, unblemished skin had sat once before that.

Dutifully grabbing a bottle of antiseptic from the first aid box, he tilted it so that it would gently stain the cotton, before pressing it to your temple, shushing you softly as you winced.

Jovially traumatizing what you imagined to be every single cell in the wound, the antiseptic finally fizzled out, its effect no longer sharp and concentrated and debilitatingly painful.

"You're a mess." His voice was so cold, so unkind, so... detached.

You're one to talk.

"Are you going to say anything?" He sounded almost... bored.

You stayed silent. If he thought you were going to give him more things to throw shit at you over, he was sorely mistaken.

He sighed, his jaw ticking slightly. "Y/N."

Your eyes moved away from the mirror behind him and back to his.

He paused his lazy movements to look down at you, your eyes, specifically, before gently bending down so he was suddenly looking up at them.

What that was supposed to achieve was unclear, but what it did affect was your ability to look away.

"I want to hear your voice.", he informed, his eyes moving between yours.

Like a bull craves the muleta.

Glancing down at him, you realized his eyes didn't match his tone. There was something almost dead about them.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Cuss me out, maybe? I don't know. I don't like the quiet."

"Why, 'cause it makes you think?", you scoffed.

"Yes, actually.", he replied, looking at you deadpan. "It does, and that's not really what I wanna do right now, okay?"

He wasn't bored, you realized. He was numb.

"Okay."

"So say something, damn it."

"About what?"

"Y/N. Listen to me when I'm talking to you. I don't give a shit. ANYTHING." He shook your shoulders as if that would cause you to spit out a good conversation in the aftermath of this night.

"Okay, uh... you promised me you'd listen to Queen with me."

He stared at you for a good while before his face softened, just enough for you to wonder if you'd imagined it, and then he frowned. "I did?"

"Yes."

"Then I will."

You nodded. "'Kay."

"Tell me about Queen."

"Look, man, I don't know-"

"Y/N.", he warned, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he reached for a band-aid, eyes never leaving your wound.

"Jeez, fine. Uh, 'We Will Rock You'. 'Bohemian Rhapsody'. 'Another One Bites The Dust'."

"That was them?", he mused softly, the words dying out a little before they reached your ears, as he ripped the cover open with his teeth, then unwrapped the band-aid.

"Yes. Freddie Mercury's the lead singer."

"The one with the teeth?", he inquired, pressing slightly on the band-aid to ensure it stuck.

The sheer dichotomy of what he was doing - cleaning up a wound caused by him that might have killed you- and what he was saying - some quip about the lead singer of some '70's band he'd barely heard of - was astounding.

"Yup." You popped your p, hoping that would echo around the room and fill the silence for long enough that Nate wouldn't pester you to talk again, which was the last thing you felt like doing.

He gazed at your wound for a little while longer before nodding. "Done. Don't touch it for another week, maybe two."

"Okay."

"And I'll get you, like, a blanket or whatever, let me just put this shit back."

"A blanket?"

"Well, yeah. You don't get cold? What are you, superhuman?"

"I'm not staying here. I'm going home."

"Like hell you are.", he laughed dryly, opening his drawer and carefully placing the box back in before moving to the sink again. His hands moved quickly, squeezing paste onto his brush. "Not this late."

You looked down at your watch. "It's nine."

"It's late."

You snorted. "Thought you were the badass curfew-less one. Now you're freaking out about nine p.m?"

Why were you even still talking to this... thing in front of you? Why were you arguing with him? You could just fucking walk out.

He rolled his eyes, his toothbrush being as thorough as possible for a couple minutes before he spat it out, gargling and then turning to look at you. "It's late."

"I'm not spending the night, Nate."

"You a sleep-talker? 'Cause that's crazy shit.", he said, spitting out his mouthwash and wiping with the back of his hand, walking past you as he opened a cupboard, and tossed a heavy-looking duvet down at your feet.

"Nate, I'm not staying over!"

"But the really creepy ones are the sleep-walkers, I'm tellin' you.", he continued, shaking his head as he picked and chose two of his pillows and threw them at your feet, too. "My cousin, back when we were eight, I woke up and found him, like, banging his head on the door. Ouija board shit, bro, I'm tellin' you."

It was clear he was blatantly ignoring you, but what infuriated you the most was that he expected you to sleep on the same floor which was strewn with dangerous, nigh invisible shards of glass.

"Nate!"

"No, seriously, I don't care if it's like, a medical condition or whatever, they're like the fucking Conjuring movie, bro!", he declared, throwing his hands up as he distractedly moved to the other side of his bed, now, checking his phone. "You're not one of 'em, right?"

"You're such a fucking asshole, I'm leaving."

"If you step out that door, I will fucking kill you."

What unnerved you was that his eyes never moved from his phone. This was as casual as his reply to his Mom asking what he wanted for breakfast or something.

Saying he'd kill you was like saying 'pancakes with butter' to him.

"What?"

"I'm going to kill you if you leave." , he huffed, tiredly. And this time, it was clear he really was bored. Bored of the conversation, bored of your resistance, bored.

"You're fucked up."

"Look, sweetie, we've both had a long day-"

"Don't fucking call me that."

He let out a breathy snicker, nodding. Almost like he'd been wondering when you'd call him out on it.

"Fair. Look, bitch, we've both had a long day...", he corrected himself, with a self-satisfied grin, before continuing, "... and I'm not letting you drive home alone with a bleeding forehead."

"I thought you fixed it."

"With the way you're yelling right now, the blood vessel you're about to pop could rip the bandage from the inside out. Look- I- I can't deal with this shit, Y/N, okay? Not tonight. So shut up and close the fucking door."

"My family's expecting me home."

He raised a brow, as if you'd just said something so pathetic he almost felt sorry for you - like you'd just said you still fucking watched Disney Channel, or something. "They know you're here?"

"No." As if.

"Where do they think you are?"

Oh, he'd expected you to have told them you were with another friend. Sorry to disappoint, asshole, but some people aren't as prepared to stay over because their friend had a psycho family.

"I'd rather not talk about it - I don't like to recall my lies."

His eyes widened, and it looked like, for the first time that entire, painful night, he was actually amused, and fuck you for being so pathetic, but you were actually glad you'd mitigated the agony, at least a little bit. "They still think you're at your internship? You didn't tell them?"

"Tell them what? That some jock thinks touching me is his good luck charm, so he stalked me, found out where I worked, and cost me my entire internship by barging in?"

"Or you could've just said your boss was a perv, and you quit."

"He wasn't a perv."

"I'm a guy. I can tell."

Wow, way to dig at an entire gender's ability to perceive danger.

You shook your head, rubbing your forehead. "What is your problem, Nate?"

"I care too much."

You laughed loudly at that, and he looked too tired to even be mad. "I just don't like the thought of you driving home alone at night, okay? Simple as that."

"Then don't think the thought."

"You're staying."

"Like hell I am."

He groaned, putting his phone back down and rubbing his face as he walked towards the front of the bed - towards you. "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to. Because my family-"

He rolled his eyes, reaching into your pocket and grabbing both your wrists to keep you from stopping him as he scrolled through your contacts - god, you had to get a fucking passcode.

"Maddy- no fucking way.", he mumbled, his thumb racing across the screen. "Cassie- one of Maddy's minions, so no- oh. Who's Lex?"

"Alexis."

"Oh, Alexis Howard? Lexi? She'll cover for you, right?"

"Not without telling Cassie. Now give me back my phone!"

"She won't tell Cassie. How's this? 'Lex, tell my family I'm sleeping over at yours, ok? Love you, xoxo!'", he read out, his voice attempting to mimic yours.

"Is that what you think girls talk like?"

"Yeah, with a scary amount of emojis."

"Misogynist."

"Badge of honour, baby. I'm sure Lexi, one of your best gal pals will cover for you."

Yes, of course, but that was besides the point.

"That's not the point-"

"The point is that you don't feel safe enough to fall asleep around me."

"What?"

"That hurts, sweetie."

"You know what else hurts?", you spat, pointing at the band-aid at your temple.

"It'll heal." He was still refusing to apologize.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

"Smash or pass, uh... McKay."

You almost laughed right then and there. "Smash."

"Really?"

You looked up at his ceiling, imagining him up on the bed, judging your smashability-scale.

"Yeah, why not?"

"You could never do it, you know? Realistically. You're not his type."

"Shut up. Smash or pass... Kat."

"Pass. Hard. Pass."

"Why?"

"I should say it's because she's close to Maddy, but you and I both know the real reason is 'cause she's so fucking ugly that-"

"Alright, shut up."

"See, this is the problem with you girls. Just agree. She's ugly."

"I don't think anyone's ugly. I think it's all action-based."

"God, then you must think I'm hideous."

He scoffed at the silence that followed. "Ouch."

"I don't think you're hideous, Nate. Just extremely unattractive."

"Superlatives, really? Y'know, whatever, I deserve it. Uh... smash or pass, Shane."

"Uh... pass."

"Why?" The glee in his voice was evident and mildly amusing.

"He cussed me out after I said the date wasn't going well."

The laughter that escaped Nate seemed to go on for hours on end. "In the middle of the restaurant?!"

"We weren't in a restaurant."

"Where were you guys?"

"He took me to a club or something."

Nate's face came into your peripheral view as he peered over the edge of the bed to face you. "On a first date."

You nodded. "Yup."

"The guy's both a fucking tool and a miserable little cunt. Anything other than a restaurant is fucking unacceptable for a first date."

"I know, even a bowling alley's fine, but a club is stupid, right? I mean, like, at the very least a café."

He nodded, his mouth curling down slightly. "Yeah, at least. Bare minimum."

It was uncomfortable, him looking down at you with pity the same night that his father had embarrassed him and cussed him out. Wasn't right. "Well, whatever. Smash or pass, uh... Rue."

"Rue Bennett? We got history, so, uh, I dunno."

"History?"

"A miscommunication during prom.", he told you, shrugging, but it was clearly something much more serious. "She's hot when she's off the drugs, I guess."

You rolled your eyes and he smiled.

"Hey, Y/N?" He didn't move back to his pillow, instead letting his arms dangle off the edge of the bed as he reached and toyed with a strand of your hair, glancing down at you. "I'll leave you alone after tonight, okay?"

"What?"

"Like, I- tonight? It was... bad. And I'm... I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm, I'm sorry. If you just, y'know, fist-bump me before every game, we'll be good. Okay? I won't bother you outside of that."

See, he said this, but his thumb kept returning to your lower lip every two seconds. You'd be a fool not to take this deal. But you'd be a liar if you said you remembered anything about life before Nate.

"Okay."

"You should get to sleep. It's two."

"What will you do?"

"Try to sleep.", he mumbled, his eyes moving away from you and towards the glass, which lay several feet away from you, on your left - almost like it was trying to reach your heart.

Your eyes followed his, and you sighed. "For the record, I don't want to fuck your dad."

"Yeah. I got that now."

"You gotta stop drinking, man."

He chuckled, nodding. "No. But thanks for the concern." Rolling back over, he left you staring at the ceiling once more, as if there were clues there as to the enigma that was Nate Jacobs.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

When you'd pulled up to your driveway the next morning - Sunday - it hit you that you were free of Nate forever. Last night, you'd have probably not known how to feel about that. This morning? Fucking elated.

You didn't even have to draw out a map, or take a single moment to think it over - every single problem in your life over the last month could be traced to him.

So fucking yay. Good riddance.

And the next day, Monday, you realized something.

School had never been so fucking fun.

Your classes started making more sense, seeing as you no longer had to look over your shoulder for some motherfucker who'd slit his own throat if you didn't go where he wanted. Fucking yay.

No, seriously. That's it. We're done here. No more Nate. End of story.

...

Ha.

So gullible.

----

Nights after Nate had always been the hardest.

Because you always found yourself losing your sanity and you knew that the only person who could even remotely get your mind off it was Nate himself.

Maybe that was his allure.

Hurting you then comforting you.

Making you cry then wiping the tears away.

But that night, he wasn't there with a blunt or tequila. Hell, you'd have even taken the gun. And you should've been ecstatic that he'd finally left you the hell alone, but at this point you had no clue what you were supposed to be feeling.

The only thing you could do was block him. Show him how mad you were. In your past experience, that didn't really matter to him, but you were running out of options.

And you probably shouldn't have done that, because you might have gotten a heads up about Tuesday.

════════════════════ ⋆ ♟️ ⋆ ══════════════════

You should've had your guard up as soon as you saw Nate walk into the school library that Tuesday afternoon, his eyes somehow darker than when he'd asked you to your face, no less, if you wanted to bang his father. You had no clue whether you had to hide or just keep doing what you did.

Flight or flight was fucking useless.

But your guard wasn't up, at least not immediately, because it was Nate. Because he may terrify you and almost kill you, but he'd never hurt you, because he just... worked differently. Things that may make someone psychopathic, he thought were normal. No biggie.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't secretly hoping he'd come back to further provoke you, because not-being-mad at him was kind of a grey area for you. It wasn't your usual state of being.

The moment your guard went up, though, was when Aaron walked in behind him. Hands in his pockets. Did he have a knife in there? Money? Or would he just flip you off?

You didn't want to find out, but it also didn't seem like you had much of a choice.

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c-cobweb · 1 month ago

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𝓓isease ⋮ father charlie mayhew

⨾ “if you were a sinner, i could make you believe. lay you down like one, two, three. eyes roll back in ecstasy. i know all your secrets, i can cure ya” — lady gaga.

ᡣ𐭩 . warnings ᯓ +18 mndi!, smut, fingering (f receiving), blasphemy(?), corruption k!nk. a/n ᯓ i don’t know anything abt religion and english is not my first language. ps: you can leave me more nichola’s request here!

───────── ⋆⋅🕸️⋅⋆ ────────

You entered Father Charlie's office and closed the door slowly without making much noise so as not to disturb him.

“Welcome, I was waiting for you” You heard his deep voice and turned to see him. Charlie was sitting in his chair behind the desk, his legs slightly apart and a playful smile on his face.

“Father Charlie, thank you for letting me come even if it's late” You said walking a little further in his office, staying next to the two chairs in front of his desk.

“Of course, dear, I will always be available for you,” he said with a calm tone of voice. “Please, sit down” He gestured with his hand to what you obeyed.

“Tell me, what's bothering you?” Charlie leaned over the desk, looking at you carefully so you could see that he was really paying attention.

“Lately I've been having thoughts... impure thoughts” You made a small pause to formulate your next sentence well. “And I don't know what to do to get them to leave, I've tried everything”

Charlie frowned and licked his lips to moisten them, your gaze going down towards them before that movement. “Impure thoughts? And what are they about?”

“They're about a man” You whispered, looking away to your lap. “May I know who that man is?” Curiosity was noticeable in Father Charlie's voice.

“It's... it's you...” You were unable to look him in the face after admitting that, but you could still hear how he inhaled air deeply and then the squeak of his chair when he got up from it.

“Get up” Charlie demanded once he was standing in front of you, you had no choice but to obey, finally looking him in the eye. “Have you ever touched yourself, sweetheart?” He leaned over to whisper in your ear while with the tips of his fingers he caressed your arm.

Your breath got stuck in your throat when you heard his question, to which he smiled to himself. You weren't able to verbalise an answer, so you just nodded your head.

“Thinking about me?” He whispered again, this time leaning towards your neck to inhale your scent. His hand going up your arm until it reaches your shoulder.

“Sometimes...” You swallowed saliva while looking at a fixed point in the room, unable to look Father Charlie in the face.

“Oh, you naughty little girl” He let out a small low laugh on your neck and then left a kiss there, making you shudder. “Wanna be good for me, darling?”

A small whine escaped from your lips as you nodded your head quickly. Charlie's hands went to your waist, getting you up until you sat on the table.

Your eyes, wide and curious, were in his, expecting what was going to happen next. “Come on, spread that pretty legs for me” He whispered in your ear and then began to lick and kiss your neck.

You obeyed, wanting to be a good girl for Father Charlie, and you opened your legs as much as you could so that he could position himself between them.

His hands went to your thighs, slowly sliding over them with caresses until they brought to the edge of your cotton panties. One of his fingers caressed your centre, discovering a wet patch there. “It seems that you are anxious. Isn't that right, little one?” Charlie said mockingly.

You sighed tremblingly when his fingers wrapped around the waistband of your underwear and he lowered it down your legs until they fell to your ankles.

His index finger caressed your wet sex from your clit to your small and intact hole, growling at the wet sensation.

“I'm going to fuck this prettt pussy with my fingers, and then your sinful thoughts would stop” He kissed your cheek affectionately. “But remember, this stays between you and me, okay?”

“Yes, Father Charlie, I would never tell this to anyone” And with that, the first finger entered your tight cunt, making you gasp.

The feeling was not at all similar to when you touched yourself, Father Charlie's finger being much longer than yours could reach places where your little hands could not.

At first he gave you a few seconds to get used to it until he began to move his digit slowly, starting to make small sounds fall from your lips.

His thumb went to your clit, caressing it in sweet circles to distract you from a second finger beginning to sneak into your cavity. That made you moan a little louder, to which you quickly covered your mouth with your hand.

Charlie's free hand grabbed your wrist to move your hand away from your face so he could hear you better. “It's okay little one, there's no one else in the parish. I want to hear you scream my name”

His two fingers curved inside you, touching that fluffy point that made your head spin. That made you moan louder than before, the sound you emitted was a mixture of pleasure and guilt produced by the taboo of the situation.

His fingers kept moving inside you and his thumb was still caressing your clit when you began to move your hips unconsciously from front to back, increasing the friction of his caresses in your centre.

“F-Father… I have a strange sensation, I think I’m gonna come” You announced between moans and gasps, without ceasing to move your hips against his hand.

“Go ahead, pretty, cum for me” He whispered in your ear while his hand moved faster between your legs.

It wasn't long until your legs began to tremble and you threw your head back, the name of the man who touched you came out of your lips like a religious song.

The movements of his fingers slowed down, but they didn't stop, guiding you during your orgasm. Your juices soaked his fingers and your screams made an arrogant smile take place on his lips.

Charlie admired the disaster he had caused in you; your legs were open, your chest rose and fell quickly because of your agitated breathing and your lips were open letting out small gasps.

He slowly took his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips, savouring your sweet nectar with a low moan. “Fucking hell, you taste so good”

While you were recovering from your intense orgasm, Father Charlie put your panties back up your legs until they were in place and took you down from the table so that your feet were back on the floor. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded quickly and swallowed saliva harshly before speaking. “Yes, Father. I think I've never felt so good in my life” That confession made the man let out a small laugh of pride.

“Then I'm glad, little one. Remember that every time you have those impure thoughts you can come to me,” he said, looking at you with his dark eyes. “We all have that kind of thoughts, even me, but sometimes we need help”

You were mesmerised looking at his hazel eyes, without a doubt Father Charlie was the most attractive man you had ever seen.

“I think I have to go now, my mother will start to get scared if I don't get home before nightfall” You changed the subject feeling how your cheeks turned red, the shame returned to you once the heated moment passed.

“Of course, I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you on the way home” He gave you a sweet smile while he passed a lock of rebellious hair behind your ear.

“Thank you very much for everything Father Charlie..." You hesitated a little but finally stood on tiptoe to leave a kiss on his cheek.

You didn't give him time to answer and you quickly left his office, closing the door behind you and leaving the parish at a fast pace.

You couldn't believe what had happened that afternoon in that small office.

───────── ⋆⋅🕸️⋅⋆ ────────

mlist , bots

#nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez #grotesquerie #charlie mayhew #father charlie mayhew #father charlie x reader #father charlie grotesquerie #father charlie smut #father charlie #doctor charlie mayhew

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merakiui · 2 months ago

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trapped in a room you can’t leave until you have sex trope, but it’s with the halloween trio. >:)

rollo who thinks the entire thing is absolutely outlandish and so very sinful. he will not be participating in this lustful debauchery and he expects you to be of the same mindset!! surely there must be some other way. he’s stubborn in this thought, but inside he’s fiercely battling the temptation to have you bent over and speared on his cock. orz

skully who is so flustered but also excited but also anxious. omg omg,,, sex is such a big step and he hasn’t even kissed you on the lips yet,,, >///< but isn’t sex just like kissing but for two bodies!!!! aaaaa he really wants to try it,,, if you’ll allow it, of course! he wants his dear to be comfortable, but if not then maybe there’s another method of escape? but you don’t miss the way his eyes linger on you, always seeming to find their way back to you, so very obvious in his staring.

fellow……. well, it can’t be helped. he’s done far worse to get out of sticky situations, so this is nothing. but you have to undress at the same time and it’s completely mutual and don’t say a word of this afterwards and you’d better just lie back and let his flattery work wonders on you in the same way his fingers scissor inside you!!!! please don’t be difficult and please be impressed and please genuinely cum and please tell him it felt good,,, (loser virgin who tries to make up for his embarrassing shortcomings by putting on a faux sense of confidence and sexual bravado). yes, of course he’s kissed before!! don’t ask to kiss him. yes, of course he’s good with his mouth. don’t say a word when he’s sloppy and salivating all over you. hush up.

and the gangbang…….. fellow insisting he knows what he’s doing because he’s older and has more life experience. fingering you in front of rollo and skully, stretching you open for them to see. if it’s fem anatomy,,, poking fun at the other loser virgins by teaching them where your clit is, running his hand over your tummy and telling them all about your womb and the purpose it serves, etc etc. skully who is just so enchanted, outright admiring your pretty, fascinating anatomy, and rollo who is trying not to look but is also looking directly at it.

maybe fellow even uses his seniority to have the first go with you. sitting you on his cock or maybe even lying you down so he can fuck you missionary and soon there’s a shadow over your face and a very embarrassed skully is trying to ask very politely if you’d be willing to kiss his tip/suck his dick/give it any sort of attention while it weeps pathetically. >_< and rollo who takes hold of your hand and kisses your knuckles sweetly before guiding it to his dick,,, hehe or rollo who is unexpectedly romantic when he fucks you….. murmuring all kinds of sweet nothings in french while he’s twisting your nipples or toying with other erogenous zones on your body, kissing at your neck and collarbones, as if he has all the time in the world in this little room. this slice of heaven.

the four of you leaving the room absolutely disheveled once it unlocks. :) a very satisfying experience.

#meraki mumbles #n/sfw

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atomicami · 1 year ago

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tattoo artist!abby hcs

modern!abby anderson x fem!reader

✰ content: no outbreak obviously, mentions of needles, tattoos/piercings, vegas living, mentions of anxiety from reader, a bit of homophobia, there are nsfw headcanons so minors and ageless blogs DNI!!, mentions of oral and strap usage (r!receiving), mirror play, scissoring, some picture taking, very inappropriate use of piercings 😀 different sex positions, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

✰ middle pic creds to @abbystanaccount

these headcanons are inspired off a pic i saw on twitter the other day that literally had me going feral. like if that isn’t the most tattoo artist!abby coded shit then idk what is. so let’s talk about it!

✰ tattoo artist!abby who’s been addicted to getting tattoos since the day she turned 18 and is so obsessed with the buzzing of the tattoo gun that she decided to dedicate her whole career on it

✰ tattoo artist!abby also canonically has her tongue pierced. you can’t tell me otherwise.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who’s now in her mid 20s and owns a tattoo shop in las vegas, nevada, since the tattoo industry tends to pay pretty well there. what happens in vegas doesn’t always tend to stay there, right?

✰ tattoo artist!abby goes through lots of customers on a day to day basis, and personally she could care less whether they’re sober and just looking for some new ink or drunk with some impulsive decision making after a bottomless margarita from fat tuesday’s because she’s still making that bank regardless.

✰ tattoo artist!abby also keeps a black polaroid camera by her station and has a whole collection of photos hung up on the wall next to her desk. to cherish the moment, she’s always had the tradition to take a picture of her first time clients, along with any celebrities that have visited her shop as well.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who hears the shop’s bell chime and turns to see a group of girls coming their way towards reception for a walk in appointment.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who sees you shyly standing in the middle of your friend group, anxiously waiting while you look around her shop

✰ tattoo artist!abby is told by one of your friends that they’re celebrating their graduation season from UNLV and as a memory together they all wanted to get some cheap $10 matching tattoos that her shop offered to customers.

✰ tattoo artist!abby notices that you’re the only one in your friend group that doesn’t have any tattoos and secretly holds her excitement in when you tell her that it’s your first one, because she would love to be the first person to put some ink on that blank canvas of yours.

✰ tattoo artist!abby starts making stencils for your friend group’s matching tattoos. your friends impulsively chose to do matching tramp stamps and of course you reluctantly agree to do it with them.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who, once it’s your turn, tries to keep her cool when you position yourself on the chair, with your front facing with the front of the chair and your bare lower back peeking out of your low rise jeans to her face.

✰ tattoo artist!abby gently placing the stencil on your lower back and handing you a mirror for you to check and see if the placement looks good.

✰ tattoo artist!abby noticing you start to get anxious once she turns on the tattoo gun, and keeps her free hand placed by your hip, and tells you reassuringly “just squeeze my hand if it hurts or if you need a break, okay?”

✰ tattoo artist!abby praising you throughout the whole tattoo process, saying things like “you’re doing so good for me love, just stay still now…i promise we’re almost done.”

✰ tattoo artist!abby who pulls out her polaroid camera once everyone’s finished and takes a group photo of you with your friends to hang up on her client wall, before pulling you to the side to get a photo of just you with your first tat.

✰ tattoo artist!abby letting your first tattoo be on the house and not letting you pay for it, secretly telling you that it’s a special discount just for you since you’re the prettiest client she’s ever had

✰ tattoo artist!abby who runs into you at the grocery store a week later, and you couldn’t help but check her out in the gym outfit she was wearing: dark gray sweats and a tight black muscle tee that perfectly contoured her broad physique and showed off her arms, letting you see how her inked pieces hugged those defined muscles of hers. and her hands…you also couldn’t help but imagine what her tatted fingers would look like inside your cu—

“hey! long time no see…everything alright with the tattoo so far?”

“hm? oh yeah! the tattoo has been healing perfectly…i’ve been doing the aftercare routine you recommended me to do.”

✰ tattoo artist!abby takes advantage of the moment she has with you right now and asks you out on a date, to which you accept.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who takes you out to a lovely restaurant by the strip, and tells you to order whatever you want because she’s been dying to spoil you since the moment you walked into her shop.

✰ tattoo artist!abby holding you close by her side as you walk down the strip with her. since she’s more familiar with vegas than you are, she knows how the strip can be dangerous at night and wants to keep you safe.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who safely drops you off back to your place in her black jeep wrangler, kissing you on the cheek goodbye with a second date already locked in.

✰ who knew that a second date with tattoo artist!abby would soon progress into something much more than that.

✧*.｡✰ ───

✰ tattoo artist!abby who’s now been your girlfriend for almost three years, to which i’m very well aware is equivalent to like a whole decade in wlw relationships but you both are still going strong today.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who manages to expand her tattoo shop, now being a small chain with a few other locations established across las vegas.

✰ tattoo artist!abby loves it when you visit her during your lunch hours, leaving whatever it is that she was doing to any of her other employees to finish so she can spend some time with you

✰ tattoo artist!abby who still has the polaroid she took of you from when you first came into her shop three years ago, placed inside a little red photo frame on her desk right next to her customer photo wall.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who now lives with you, and upgraded her studio apartment to a nice townhouse outside of the strip, since she knows you have a hard time sleeping at night with the overwhelming atmosphere it always carries.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who lets you color her tattoos with markers whenever you get really anxious, since she knows doing that helps you calm down.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who’s done just a few more pieces on you since the start of your relationship with her, but you always tell her to keep the tattoos minimalistic since that is the style you’ve preferred

✰ tattoo artist!abby who takes you out to eat for your three year anniversary at top of the world, a fancy revolving restaurant located inside the stratosphere hotel that has a panoramic view of the entire las vegas strip

✰ tattoo artist!abby who that same night, waits at the right moment for the hourly fountain show to start playing in front of the bellagio so she can get down on one knee and propose to you right there for everyone to see.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who goes all out for the wedding, booking it at a venue not in vegas, but all the way upstate in lake tahoe, so the two of you can get married with a beautiful lakeside view.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who successfully convinces her father to walk you down the aisle at her wedding after your parents found out that you were going to marry her and decided not to come. despite the fact that jerry wasn’t too fond of abby’s tattoo obsession and had wanted her to follow in his footsteps and become a doctor like him, it didn’t stop him from unconditionally loving and supporting his only daughter. and he knew you were the perfect one to give that to her as well.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who doesn’t even let the officiant finish his final statement and wraps an arm around your waist, twirling you around the altar and giving you the most passionate kiss in front of everyone to tie the knot.

✰ but to really tie the knot, after the wedding ceremony you and abby end up tattooing each others first initial onto each others ring fingers inside her shop.

✰ tattoo artist!abby who is so excited to spend the rest of her life married to an amazing and supportive woman like you.

NSFW HCS UNDER THE CUT

✰ tattoo artist!abby enjoys some good missionary, but then again who doesn’t? she mostly loves doing it to you because she knows you get that sense of protection from her in the bedroom with her prominent, muscular figure towering over yours when she pounds her strap deep inside you.

✰ this one shouldn’t even have to be listed because we all know damn well that tattoo artist!abby eats it for her own pleasure. that woman will eat you out like its her final meal on death row. and with that metal tongue ring of hers rubbing against your clit and teasing your tight entrance, abby’s expert tongue alone will have you cumming into her mouth instantly.

✰ tattoo artist!abby also owns one of those vibrating tongue rings, but she’ll only use that on you after you’ve had AT LEAST three orgasms so you’re super overstimulated for it

✰ tattoo artist!abby definitely makes you look down in between your legs while she fingers you, so you can see how much your wetness is soaking up the healed ink on her fingers while she pumps them in and out of your needy cunt.

✰ tattoo artist!abby also doesn’t care how loud you end up getting while she fucks you, despite how embarrassed you get with startling the neighbors when it happens. if anything she encourages that so they can know how good she’s making you feel.

✰ tattoo artist!abby either uses a completely black strap OR a skin tone colored strap that she had custom made to look like it has tattoos on it, because if she was a dude she would definitely have her dick tatted too idc.

✰ tattoo artist!abby has definitely fucked you in her shop when no one else is around..like can you imagine taking her strap in the same chair that she tattoos her customers?? not to mention she’s got mirrors in that shop and she will definitely make you look at it and watch yourself take her strap like the good slut you are.

✰ in addition, tattoo artist!abby also installed a mirror on the ceiling above the chair. she always tells her customers it’s for them to see their backs better while getting a back piece done but you know damn well she put that in her own shop just for you to watch yourself better the next time she fucks you in that chair again

✰ and we certainly can’t forget about tattoo artist!abby’s iconic polaroid camera…she definitely is one for playing the photographer in the bedroom and keeps loads of nude polaroids of you tucked inside her wallet which are for her eyes only.

✰ tattoo artist!abby LOVES doing reverse cowgirl with you! mainly because she can see your whole back profile perfectly and admire the first piece of ink she put on you every time you ride her strap 🫶🏻

✰ i also feel like it’s not too common for tattoo artist!abby to do this but whenever she feels like doing something different she’ll for sure scissor you too. and it’ll definitely feel good on your end because…well…let’s just say that abby’s tongue isn’t the only part of her body that’s pierced 🫣

✰ and last but not least, tattoo artist!abby is 100% the queen of aftercare. she’ll treat your fucked out self the same way she would with a freshly done tattoo. she’ll draw you a nice warm bath to soothe your muscles, make you drink lots water for hydration, and curl up in the bed with her tatted sleeves wrapped around you as you drift off with her to sleep.

in conclusion, we need to give tattoo artist!abby the attention she deserves 🧎🏻‍♀️thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 9 months ago

Note

you know what's delicious? yn who started wearing flavored lip balm/lip tint because of suguru — so that every time suguru ate a curse, he could just easily pull the man into a kiss to get rid of the disgusting taste suguru hates so much ((bonus points if yn also pops in a candy/sweet/chocolate in his mouth before feeding it to suguru through a kiss — anything to help suguru forget the taste of curses)) yeah... just... suguruyn for the win man 😋🫶

((even more bonus points when satoru finds out later and he gets all jelly because 1. he doesn't know the lip balm/lip tint can come with a flavor so he felt blindsided and of course, he humphs and puffs because of it and 2. he wanted a chocolatey sweetness kissies too!!!! and of course lastly, 3. he felt left out because he never knows that suguruyn always makes out every single time suguru ate a curse so he's all pouty about it — ask him to join in next time!!!))

❝ He's just like candy, he's so sweet ❞

polycule (Satoru x r! x Suguru)) | alternate universes (Suguru is not a cult-reader), fluff, NSFW | vers. bottom. reader (AMAB) | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 3.6k

warnings: foodplay, threesomes, pouty satoru & smug suguru, semi-public sex, d/s dynamics

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

author's note: in this au, they slayed the links that made me lose my mind (thank you @xuxitheii for making me squeal and kick my feet): geto suguru : gojo satoru : gojo satoru being a big baby

Curses. Ugly as sin and tastes just as foul. Suguru remembers the first time he discovered he could devour them; how awful it felt as it went down his throat, bulging out and staying there — blocking his airway as he struggled to find it in himself to swallow.

The way his teeth ached. His throat convulsed and his instincts forced it back up but his fingers blocked it from doing so. It warbled in the back of his mouth, begging to be let out and 7-year-old Suguru just knew he couldn’t bear for it to disturb him again. He couldn’t handle it speaking nonsensically into his ear, slinking under his bed or even staring right at him as it grinned so wide Suguru swore he could see his reflection in its yellow, wicked-sharp, teeth.

The pills his parents (his poor, non-sorcerer, parents) had given him to help with his “hallucinations” made him feel as though a thick fog was obscuring his brain. His thoughts faded and his movement groggy, his emotions caged while his body still felt the anxious tremors that ran through him when he saw them.

The curses made him feel like he was constantly in a deep pit of despair. Everything wrong in the world, the depravity and impulses of humanity that manifested into these grotesque creatures in the palm of his hands made his nose sting, till this day, as an 18-year-old; it made his eyes well with tears.

Suguru can't describe it in a way people could understand. But if asked, he’d used the viscera of a vomit rag being forced down your throat.

But the strong protect the weak. While your lips protect them from his ire. This one goes down with a loud gulp, his fingers blocking his lips as he tosses his head back. The worst is almost over, the aftertaste will linger but not for long. Because then, he feels your weight on his chest and Suguru is pliant as you gently pry his fingers away.

“You did a good job, baby.” Suguru flutters his eyes open and he can’t help the way his lips twitch eagerly. Your lips are glossier than usual, he can smell the cherry flavour on them. His hands wrap themselves around your waist. It’s a firm grip.

Mine, he says without speaking, mine — all mine.

He pulls and a huff of air escapes you in a series of chuckles. “I know we haven’t been out in a while, but did you miss me that much, Su-Su?” Suguru frowns at your jest. It’s rare for him to pout. That role is often delegated to your boyfriend, Satoru. So this must truly upset him.

Because, yes, he did.

You’d been called overseas to complete a mission. It was the norm for sorcerers considering the population of sorcerers in Japan; outsourcing they called it. Your curse technique was needed for this mission and truly, it didn’t take long but Suguru had done solo missions and he missed you.

Three solo missions. Three disgusting, dog-shit, vomit-stained rags, down his throat. Three days without you by his side.

He hated it.

“Don’t ask a silly question like that ever again,” he mumbles. Silly. The way he scolds you always makes you smile. Never crass or rude — his voice reminds you of the symphony of leaves singing with the wind as they danced and speckled light onto the forest floors and cool water bubbling over rocks.

“Why? Why can’t I ask silly questions?” You tease, placing your elbows on his shoulder and hanging your hands behind him. Purposefully lax despite the coquettish smile on your face.

“You already know the answer.” He speaks with such sincerity. Every word is heavy with nothing but candour and adoration. It makes your eyes soften and Suguru squeezes you closer.

“I do?” He nods at your words, the tip of his nose brushing over yours and his tan skin so flushed on the apples of his cheeks.

“Kiss me like you miss me, baby.”

Suguru’s lips land on yours like a feather. Supple as always he begins it with a long-lasting peck. Pouty lip against pouty lip. His hands climb up your back and he presses between your shoulder blades to somehow hold you closer; his jaw opens and yours does the same. There it is — that heaven that’s your mouth. Suguru groans and you feel his tongue sneaking in, devouring you like a starved man.

The cherry flavour on your lips, the sweetness of the candy you let melt on your tongue, the way your fingers grip his hair, the way he can feel your breath on his cheek as you try to breathe. He wishes that the two of you never needed air. Suguru wants nothing more than to kiss you forever and ever and ever —

“Hey!”

You part with a gasp, cheeks warm and lips almost bruised as the line of spit between the two of you breaks. At the mouth of the alleyway was your boyfriend; Gojo Satoru.

His arms are crossed and he taps his foot in a cartoonish fashion. Despite that, both of you know that the frown on his face is very much real. “What gives? I exorcised the other curses and I came back to the two of you making out. So unfair!”

Suguru parts with a sigh, rolling his eyes to the side and pouting his lips to the side as he muttered about Satoru having FOMO. It makes you giggle and he smiles when you lean forward to place your face right under his jaw.

“S’toru, you’re being a baby. Suguru did a lot of work and I was just thanking him.” Satoru unfolds his arms and flaps them around in protest.

“I did work too!”

And it has begun — Satoru’s famous little tantrums. Oh, he could go for a full hour if he was really worked up but there is a saving grace in him having them. He closes his eyes when he’s yappering. Suguru is listening to his huffy boyfriend but then you kiss his chin and he tilts his face down to look at you.

“Hm?” your teeth brush over his lower lips, then plant firmly on his. “Baby?” he smiles in the lip-locking and you whine about it because his lips should not stretch into that handsome smile, they should be pursed outward and part to let you in.

He tastes chocolate on your tongue. The creaminess of the chocolate makes him groan along with the citrusy notes. That combined with the fruitiness of the cherry tint on your lips makes the taste of the curses he’d ingested (exorcised) all but disappear. Your hands climb to the lobe of his ears and his breath hitches when your fingers trail the curve of it, he protests a bit as you undo his bun; then you whisper his name and Suguru tightens his grip on your waist.

“Hey!”

Satoru is whining again but this time he’s closer. Close enough for Suguru to grab a fistful of Satoru’s white button-up and pull him in. As his face turns you giggle, wiping away some smeared gloss as you watch Satoru turn red from Suguru’s heated kiss.

Satoru groans with his eyebrows twitching. Listless in his attempt to remain angry at Suguru. He pounds his fist against Suguru’s shoulder and attempts to crane his neck away. When he turns, he gasps as you steal his breath.

Satoru’s graceful legs tumble over themselves as his boyfriends press him to the rough wall of the alleyway. There’s a constant hum of an A/C machine and the noises from the pipes keep the intimate noises between the three of you contained. Suguru’s blunt nails drag onto the faded plastered-on advertisements — yours grip onto the bars of the window that had been covered up by old newspapers.

Satoru’s grip onto the front of both of your shirts. His glasses go askew as he struggles to keep up with his boyfriends. Suguru misses Satoru so much. He’d been away too, the Higher Ups sending him overseas at the same time as you and Shoko had to deal with a depressed Suguru for those 3 days.

“Mah, Satoru,” you drag your lips to Satoru’s sensitive neck. His hands don’t seem to know what to do with themselves. It grips and pushes and stutters. “I always give Suguru special kisses after a job well done, you’ve just always been too busy to notice.”

“S’not fair,” Satoru retorts with no real venom in his words. “I deserve special kisses too, don’t I?” Suguru chuckles, forcing Satoru to look his way and shut him up. Satoru glares over the rim of his crooked glasses as Suguru’s thumb presses down on his canines.

“What a jealous brat.”

“Can’t even handle a little teasing.”

Satoru would heavily disagree with that. A little teasing? You called being pushed to a wall, groped, kissed, and bitten by your handsome and powerful boyfriends a little teasing?

Satoru was a sign of change, his birth instantly tipped the scales of the sorcerer world, but he was still human!

Suguru grins that irritatingly pleased grin when Satoru’s protests die out thanks to your hands slipping down his pants. “Oh shit,” he hisses. His speech is odd with Suguru’s thumb in his mouth, casually inspecting it. But you laugh anyway.

“You know, since he has been away too, maybe he does deserve a bit of sugar from you, (Y/N).” You glance at Suguru, your cock chubbing up in your pants as he pointedly motions his gaze to the ground. You kneel in front of Satoru and drool slips down his chin as his pupils chase after you. Suguru chuckles, wiping it away and wiping it off on Satoru’s shirt — to which he hears no complaint. Suguru stands behind you, bending at his waist to peer down. It’s unfair how pretty he is from any angle. The Gods took their time making him. Of that, you are certain.

“Ready, sweetheart?” you nod, opening your saccharine-sweet mouth; Suguru pats your cheek as praise and undoes Satoru’s pants for you. His cock springs out, nearly bumping into your nose as it strains and twitches in the open air. When Suguru holds it, Satoru grunts and raises his hips. Fucking into his fist like a dog in heat. Suguru regards this with a shake of his head and guides Satoru to your mouth. You form a fist around your thumb, looking up at Satoru through your lashes as you wrap your lips around him.

Suguru straightens his composure. He takes in the sight.

Satoru and you know better than to be handsy. The pale-haired man grabs onto the bars of the window behind him, breathing through his nose as the toe of his shoes dig into the floors. You slip your eyelids close and languish in the taste of Satoru’s cock — breathing through your nose as well as you bob your head.

Fuck, Suguru missed this. He really did. He could get off on this alone. Just watched as both of you enjoyed the other. His darling boyfriends, who so obediently listen to his whims even if he didn’t say it out loud.

Who could ask for more?

Suguru strokes over your eyebrow and barely stifles a laugh when you tilt your head so Satoru’s tip pokes your cheeks.

“Good boy. My sweet boy.”

His voice alone makes you want to give in to whatever it is he asks of you — it’s insane how much power and sway he has. Your charming Suguru.

Satoru moans, swiftly reaching out and gripping onto the collar of Suguru’s top. They kiss. Fighting for dominance because Satoru needs to be pushed into submission. He relishes being put in his place — smacked around a little.

You could pinpoint this kink originating from his frivolous childhood and naturally talented self needing some sort of edge to sink down into a more fuzzy headspace.

Or perhaps Satoru was just a brat and he trusted his lovers enough to relinquish that control. Both theories worked.

Suguru grunts as Satoru tugs at his hair, the pleasant tinge of pain making his dick strain against his loose pants. You spot it from the corner of your eyes, an obscene slurping sound coming from you as you attempt to not make this blowjob too messy. An impossible task, really. But a worthy effort.

“Your lips taste like cherry, why?” Satoru’s question catches Suguru off-guard. He expected Satoru’s usual quips and huffiness. He indulges.

“(Y/N) wore cherry-flavoured lipgloss.”

The proof is in the coloured streaks on his dick. You feel it twitch on your tongue and pull away, your hot breath on his cockhead making precum leak out of his blushing tip. You rest it on your velvet tongue, unabashedly pouting to kiss the tip and then taking him inside again. Those slightly shimmery streaks made Satoru grit his teeth.

“I didn’t know those came in flavours,” Satoru moans. “How come you don’t wear that for me too?”

“Because it’s for me, you little shithead,” Suguru growls lowly. Their foreheads touch as he tightens his grip on Satoru’s neck, the pressure making Satoru’s eyelids flutter for a second. “It’s my prize for exorcising curses.”

“You jealous?” you wonder out loud. The answer was clear but there was a rush to make Satoru admit it.

“Yes, I am!” He curses for a moment as you descend further down to lick at his balls, looking up at him still as if this conversation was taking place over a dinner table and not in an alleyway with society just a few meters away. As if his dick wasn't on your face while you feel his balls tightening up on your tongue.

Seriously, if somebody peered down long enough they would most definitely catch sight of the three of you here.

“I just – just...fuck, I missed the two of you too. It’s completely unfair you’ve been keeping this from me too! I’ll never forgive you.”

Suguru grabs the back of your neck and pulls you backward. His large hands effectively push your head down further and further until your nose is at the neat patch of pubic hair Satoru has. You relax your throat and jaw, eyes watering while you brace your hands on Satoru’s thighs.

“So why didn’t you just tell us that, darling?" Suguru purrs. "Instead, you chose to be a brat and stomp around. You’re better than that, Satoru. Aren’t you? Hm?”

You gag but Suguru holds you in place. His hand barely has any real strength behind it. If you jerked backward, he would not hold you in place. No, no. Suguru’s power comes from the lack of strength he needs to exhibit. His dominance is in the ease Suguru commands it.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You needed him inside of you.

“Screw you, Suguru,” Satoru chokes out.

He pulls you off. You cough, spit staining your chin as you smile loosely at them. Suguru then pulls you onto your feet, pushes you to the wall, and undoes your pants. You bite down on your lower lip, staring at Satoru as you brace your hands onto the wall just next to him. Satoru watches on, trying to keep himself strong by pretending he isn’t affected by the sight before him.

Suguru gathers spit in his mouth but pauses as he feels the candy wrapper in your pockets. The chocolate brand makes his brows raise. It’s expensive. No doubt Satoru’s influence had rubbed off on you. Only one company in the world made this chocolate, its pink colour is a dead giveaway. No wonder your cherry-flavoured gloss tasted so strong, it was complimented nicely by the leftover taste of this ruby chocolate.

He lets your pants pool around your ankles while he takes a bite. It wasn’t disgustingly soft, but your body heat made it melt quickly on his tongue. He spreads your ass apart and spits a thick glob of his spit and pink chocolate. The sensation sends shivers up your back and you arch your back further, unsure about the new sensation.

“Suguru, that was expensive — ngh!”

Your eyes widen as he presses his cock inside. You were thankful for your morning romp with them. It loosened you up enough that Suguru’s impatience didn’t cause pain and only mild discomfort — he reaches forward to jerk your cock off to ebb it away and you moan out his name.

“Shh, shh, not so loud. We’re still outside, baby.”

Satoru groans, reaching to toss his glasses away as he turns his back to the entrance and gives you his full attention. He’s craving touch. To taste or to mark you up. To do anything, really. He is goddamn hypnotized by the way Suguru’s dick thrusts in and out of you. Suguru gives you a good fucking for too short of a time — pounding into you like a jackhammer and making you nearly bite your tongue off in an attempt to keep quiet before he pulls out.

Your knees buckle, thighs twitching as you try to keep yourself upright. Satoru’s knees thud onto the floor and he greedily laps at Suguru’s cock, moaning at the creamy taste. The same flavour leaks out of you while you catch your breath. The mouth of the alleyway is quiet but there are still the faint noises of the city just there. A few big strides away. But there. It excites you. You imagine it’s exciting your equally perverted boyfriends too.

"Satoru," Suguru groans at the sight of him. You peel yourself from the wall. Shoulders thudding onto the hard surface while your pants drop to your ankles. Shakily, you use your feet to push it all the way off, eyes trained on Satoru savouring the flavour of Suguru and the ruby chocolate. He pulls away with a breathy 'pwah!' and strokes Suguru's creamy dick.

You're tempted to join Satoru. Just sharing Suguru's cock, kissing Satoru with his cockhead between your lips. Fuck, just the thought has your dick slapping lightly against your navel. Suguru plants a hand near your head, turning his head to kiss you while the other is tugging on the roots of Satoru's head. a

"Both of my boys are being so obedient," he says after a deliciously deep groan of Satoru's name. "We missed you," you reply in a whiny whisper.

"Missed you so much, S'guru..."

Satoru moans, pulling away as he catches his breath and shares a heated gaze.

"Fuck, I missed you so badly. Missed this dick too," Satoru turns to your crotch and kisses the underside of your dick. It makes your breath hitch, hips jerking forward. The wetness of your precum smears on Satoru's cheek a bit but he doesn't even mind. Nor does he seem to notice.

"These cocks are the only ones that make me this hungry."

Suguru glances at the alleyway. You're not loud enough to draw attention. Still, better safe than sorry.

"Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure." You throw your head back to laugh. A veil was meant to conceal, protect those outside of it, and maintain secrecy. To use it so improperly.

The three of you were truly perverted.

"What's got you all giggly?" Suguru speaks against your lips. Tilting your chin upwards then squeezing the sides of your neck just to relish in the way you bare your neck to him.

"You used a veil," Satoru speaks for you. He raises, ignoring Suguru's pointed glance in favour of unbuttoning your shirt and kissing down your chest. His lips are sticky, smears of pink tainting you but you find it hard to care. "He's laughing because he thinks we're perverts."

"What are you? A mind reader now, Satoru?" You huff.

"I might as well be, huh?" Satoru smirks. He's so handsome that it makes your chest hurt sometimes. You're against the wall, exits blocked by Suguru and Satoru and you wouldn't have it any other way. "You know, I missed you too. It's been weeks — "

"Three days," Suguru and you corrected.

"Weeks. And this morning wasn't enough. We did such a good job, those wrinkle bags can't complain if we just so happened to work overtime, right?"

Ijichi can't stop his cheek from heating up. It's painfully, painfully, obvious why the three of you took your time for this mission. He had waited in the car for the first hour, then occupied himself with some coffee at a nearby cafe but by the third hour, Ijichi almost called Principal Yaga.

Three Special Grade Sorcerers took that long to exorcise an abandoned building. Surely, something must have happened!

Yet, seeing you sleeping on Suguru's lap with your legs across Satoru's lap confirms the real reason why it took the three of you that long.

Satoru has a weighted eye mask, head tossed back as he recuperates. This gives Ijichi a clear sight of his marked-up neck. Your shirt is wrinkled, hitched up from the bend of your waist, and giving him the whispers of handmarks. Suguru met his gaze from the rearview and Ijichi whispered out an apology.

"No, please. We're sorry for keeping you waiting." Suguru is brushing your bangs back, gently wiping down some residual stickiness on your cheeks with wet wipes (that Ijichi had made a point to stock up on in the car after earlier missions involving you three).

"No, I understand," he says with a shaky voice. Sighing a little he laughed awkwardly from the driver's seat.

"You must've been missing them a lot for those three days they've been gone, Mr Geto."

Suguru's expression softens, leaning one shoulder down when Satoru leans to place his head on his shoulders.

"It's hard not to. I love them."

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #gay reader #male!reader #gojo satoru x male reader #geto suguru x male reader #jjk x male reader #satosugu x reader #satosugu x male reader

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vifilms · 3 months ago

Text

#002 CHARMER AND THE SNAKE.

❝ ABBY!ANDERSON SERIES ❞

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: camgirl!abby, jealousy themes, dom!reader, messy reader, slight dub-con (alchohol involved by both parties), tw #strapsex, spitting, use of vibrator, fingering, cunnilingus. i promise the slow burn will pay off, and abby will be doing camgirl things next chapter. okieee hope you like this byeeee :')

....AND THEY WERE ROOMATES, she’s always been just abby to you. best friends and thick as thieves. sweet as can be, breathing shy naivety with each one she takes — a walking angel on earth. a gentle reminder of what’s good but looks can be so convincing….can’t they?

wc. 3k

Abby has to pretend it doesn’t hurt. That she feels nothing at all. Even if it’s not true, it’s what she tells herself to help her sane…whole…as mentally sound as she could be. The smell of booze, weed, and sweat fills the room. You didn’t want her to come tonight, insisted you did once you’d been caught and now Abby knows why. It feels more wounded knowing this is what you wanted tonight, why you dressed so nice tonight, splitting Abby into two.

With an anxious mind, Abby wonders what she did to deserve this. As you cling onto the woman like a vice, your tongue getting lost in her mouth as you pull on her hair, the girl’s back arching as you do so, molding herself to your touch. The black mini skirt your paramour wore riding up so high, her ass nearly full on display but she didn’t really care, not when you were making her feel like that. More than the sharpest blade, it guts her when your head tilts back as the mysterious nips and sucks at your neck, making you moan in the process.

Abby swallows the poison as it deteriorates her from the inside out. Swallowing her whole as she watches you with someone else. Pretending to have a facade is one thing, but actually being convinced of it is another. Whether it’s you, herself, or both? She’s not sure.

It’s clear as day, as crystal as the reflection in her window, why you didn’t want her here. The slight argument the two of you had divulged right before you arrived here confused her in all honesty. Truthfully, she wasn’t supposed to see you and your companion tucked in a small corner in the basement. Your body framed against the wall as the woman grinds against you, using your thigh to get off.

You.

Discomfort fills her immensely, watching you with someone else. Even if she should feel happy for you, you’re her best friend, she can’t. She won’t. The jealousy courses through her veins, especially when you moan into the mysterious woman’s mouth as the succubus sinks into your neck. Tilting your head back with your eyes shut, you let the stranger grope your ass through the fabric of your trousers.

Abby doesn’t know what’s worse. You’re not noticing her presence or the fact she’s being subjected to watch. Tragically distracted, Abby doesn’t notice the men circling around her. Until they are in her face trying to get the blonde’s attention. It makes her feel uneasy.

Undeniably, the men flirt with her as if they are owed pieces of her, scrambling for an inch of the shy girl, the one no one seems to want. She knows the interest only takes place under her guise of experience, more so lack thereof.

With their overzealous palms, sinful hands paw at her as if these men are owed pieces of her, tugging on her blonde braid, touching her arm — anyone could see how uncomfortable she’s become. Abby isn’t one to pay attention to, not at all really, it’s not until she says no again does it catch your attention. Unintentionally, she’s loud about it, without even meaning to be. Now, you feel completely sober. Even if your lips and neck are slightly stained with lipstick from the woman who was dry humping you until kingdom come, you could hear Abby’s cries in a sea of a thousand cries.

With a heavy foot, she charges at them, shoving the man pack slightly.

“She said fucking no.” You practically bite at the group.

“We’re just messing around. Tell your little watchdog they can back down.”

You take a step forward to knock the little bitch off his feet, but Abby catches your wrist before your fist could fully swing.

“It’s not worth it. Can we just go?” Reluctantly, you nod but before the threat leaves your lips. “Touch her again and you’ll fucking regret it.”

Sliding your hand into hers, you shoulder check the two men, making them split while you have Abby in tow. Abby turns to see the death glare of the century being passed her way, the girl you had just been exchanging tonsils with not believing you had left for well — Abby.

Now with her face visible, you can see her clear as day, Francesca. More difficult than before, Abby finds it even more difficult to not let her heart swarm with envy especially when it comes to someone she can’t stand at all. Francesca is everything she’s not. The brunette oozes the confidence, the blueprint of extraordinary femininity. When she walks into a room, everyone turns to look at her. Unlike how Abby standardly feels, entirely visible from her. Easily, the blonde blends in every room she steps foot in, her thick sweaters and pants with her plain sneakers don’t leave much to remember.

Then, there is Francesca.

Everyone knows from the moment she steps in, she’s the hottest woman there. With her short skirts exhibiting her undeniable ass, her perky tits she always loves to put on display, and then there’s that goddamn smile. As if it was created by the finest god themselves, she can lure anyone into her venus trap and she damn near has. In the final year of uni, Francesca has been hellbent on you. Dropping and closing out the bar that you work at, Abby has even seen it herself a few times.

It was easy to spot. Abby had even seen Francesca undo multiple buttons when she noticed you were here, you take it with grace, always politely declining saying you aren’t interested. Was this just all for show? Did you not want her to know your true intentions so you keep buried and concealed from her prying eyes? Clearly, you were interested in the perfectly put together princess. Abby really couldn’t even blame you, Francesca was the one of the most beautiful women she’s ever seen and Francesca didn’t give up until she had what she wanted.

An insatiable need you seemed willing to fill tonight, the stars aligned for the siren, getting off on your thighs before you were so rudely interrupted, in her hazel eyes anyways. Abby didn’t really understand why you stopped what you were doing, she could handle herself with ease. The last thing she needed was an upset Francesca with a new target for her unhinged rage.

As you pull her outside, the abandoned patio and the steady fire raging in the autumn air, instantly she checks if you’re alright. Deeply, Abby hates how she can smell Francesca. It’s not your scent comforting her it’s the woman you would have fucked in the nearest bathroom if she hadn’t been so loud, interrupting you in the process. Would you have bent her over the counter, stuffing her fingers full of you? Or maybe you would have sunk to your knees with your mouth latched onto her clit as you praised the succubus at the altar of your sins.

Even if she knows she shouldn’t, Abby pokes at the bear.

“I’m fine. You can go back to Francesca, I’m fine.” Abby bites, trying to conceal the sharpness in her tone, but she does nothing but expose it.

“I might’ve believed you if you hadn’t said it twice.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want to be with her. I’m surprised your tongue didn’t get sucked into her mouth permanently.”

It’s dangerous for Abby to say these things. To let her anger show in front of you so clearly like this. If she wants to preserve the relationship you have with each other, she really should do a better job at disguising how she feels. The jealousy is bleeding green, her blood dripping all over you, staining you until you have to scrub out every last drop. Hearing you moan her name possessed her with a claim she shouldn’t have over you but now she can’t stop herself from branding you as hers.

—

Even you had to admit, things had gotten out of hand. You’d been so hellbent on getting Abby out of your mind, needing a break from her constant, figurative teasing, the repetitive dreams she kept having of your best friend. You need to get her out of your system but it was just your luck she had seen you with someone else. The stupidly cute pout, lips turned downwards perfectly as she fails to hide how she truly feels.

”It’s fine. I’m just going to take an uber and go home. I’m sorry for ruining your night.” Abby gets up but you follow her, not wanting her to be alone when she’s this upset.

“You didn’t ruin anything.” You try to convince her but she’s not really listening, her mind is far gone — away from you.

“I think I just wanna be alone. It’s been a long week anyways, probably wasn’t a great idea to come out, you know?” You nod at her words, watching as she leaves. You should have gone after her but you don’t. Ever since you saw her in a way you shouldn’t, everything between the two of you has been rocky. A dynamic shift you weren’t quite prepared for. You think about leaving, the rest of the night will just be a bust, you grab another drink. Trying to drown your senses in shitty alcohol, just enough for you to not hate yourself for making her feel like shit.

Thankfully you’re walking out of the house party but Francesca finds you before you can. It’s her home, her space, and it would be so fucking easy. There’s no denying, clearly, you’d been all over. It wasn’t just tonight either. “C’mon, you can’t leave now! The party’s just starting.”

“I’m pretty beat, might just call it a night.”

“How about one more drink? Can’t leave without having a drink with the host.” Meticulously, she places a hand on your sternum before pulling you towards her by the waistband of your trousers. Maybe she can help you forget about all of it and you’re too weak to say no.

You should leave. You really should.

“Alright, one more couldn’t hurt.”

Three tequila shots in, for the two of you, is all it takes. Francesca‘s kind enough to lend you a harness and dildo so you can fuck her pretty face into the mattress. You slap her ass as you deliver a particularly hard thrust of your cock, watching her pretty cunt swallow you whole. It’s sloppy, wet, and fuck is she the perfect little slut for you. Deliciously, she meets your thrusts as she fucks her ass back onto your baby blue cock. The harness creates just enough friction each time she back up on you, rubbing against your clit as she does.

“God, I didn’t think you’d be this good.” Francesca can’t help but look back at you and she’s glad she does. It’s just in time to see you spit on her pucker hole, teasing her lightly with your thumb. Grabbing a hold of her hips, making sure your grip is firm as you pull her back over and over, making the pretty brunette take every single inch of you.

“What was that? I don’t think I heard you.” Francesca slumps, her moans could be heard throughout the house, you’re sure and fuck is your ego incredibly stroked as you make the girl everyone wants to fuck see stars. “You know what you’ve been doing, chasing me down, not letting me leave. Stupid brat. Couldn’t leave without feeling me inside you, huh?”

“Yes, yes!” Francesca screams, wanting every in the house to know you’re the one fucking her. She’s lost in the moans you’re giving her, she feels so close, so fucking close to cuming all over your cock. No one has ever fucked her to bliss so quickly, she can practically taste the orgasm on the tip of her tongue. Francesca needs it more than the air she breathes.

But you slip out of her, maneuvering her body so she’s on her back, you suck on her tits, marking them up as she arches into you. Francesca bucks her hips into as she grips onto your hair and pulls. “What’d you stop?”

You don’t answer her. Not verbally.

Grabbing her legs, you lift lightly and push forward, “Grab them.” Her knees land near her head as Francesca is fully exposed for you.

Maybe this is what you need to get Abby out of your mind. Just one fucking night of rough fucking to get you off her mind. So, it’s what you do. Sinfully, you spit on her dripping cunt, enjoying the way her body shivers. With your fingers, you let them slip into her folds, she’s so wet, you slip right in. Her cunt takes your fingers with ease, she whimpers the moment you’re penetrating her with skilled fingers. Carefully using your thumb, you circle her clit, Francesca squirming for more. More fingers, more of your cock — she’s not sure which she needs but she’s craving to come undone around you.

“Such a pretty cunt you have, huh?” In your drunken haze, the lines begin to blur, and all you are golden waves and bright eyed blues staring right back at you. You imagine these are her tits, your ass, and her pussy. All of it belongs to her, it isn’t Francesca, it’s Abby. Doubling down on your pace, you fuck her like your life depends on it. Francesca is just as inebriated as you, not caring about anything but you bringing her body to the edge she so desperately craves. It’s criminal how much she needs to cum in your mouth, on your face, and wants you to swallow every last drop.

But you have something different in mind.

Your fingers slip out of her before they are replaced with your cock, spreading her legs so she’s folded in half, her legs in the air as you split her pussy, coaxing it to bend to your will. Her furrowed eyebrows and pout reminds you of Abby, how she takes it in your dreams with no questions asked. It’s what you crave but you’ll settle for another pretty girl, even if it’s not the one you want. You’d ruin Abby, destroy her precious heart into a million pieces without even trying to.

The girl beneath you? You’re more than willing to break her down into nothing. Truth be told, you could care less if she likes you or not, you just need to fuck your need for Abby out of your system. If you’re getting your fill elsewhere, you’ll be able to control yourself. Right?

With a firm grip on the headboard, you plow into her like she’s the farmer’s daughter, her grip barely able to hold her legs together as Francessa's head slumps into an awkward angle. The sound of the headboard hitting her wall makes her cunt gush with need, she feels it dripping off her ass, her slick being fucked out of and into her at the same time.

“I-I need to c-cum. Please.”

“Do you think you’ve earned it?” You slap her clit, enjoying the way her entire body shakes.

“I’ve been good, so good for you. Don’t you hear how good I’ve been.” The weeping cries from her pussy are even louder. You know she’s close. It won’t be long before she comes around your cock.

“Yeah, you have been good, huh? Then be a good girl and cum around my cock.”

Francesca needs nothing else. Swiftly, her arms circle around your neck, bringing your lips to hers as she cums, shoving her tongue down your throat she moans into your mouth as you fuck her through her euphoric high. You think that’ll be the end of it, you slip out of her as you take the harness off but she pushes you to lay back on the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Making you cum, obviously.”

“You really don’t have to I’m—” She slurps at your cunt like it’s her last meal, shutting you up in the process. “You were saying?”

Your silence is answer enough as you thread your fingers through her hair, shoving her face in your cunt as she sucks your bundle of nerves into her swollen lips. Giving the wanted pearl all the affection in the world, starting off the small kitten licks and sucks until she’s tasting your divine slick, letting it coat her tongue entirely.

Francesca halts for a moment, grabbing the vibrator on the dresser, before holding it to your clit. Her gleeful smile is wicked as she watches you, whimpers slipping off your tongue as she lets you ride her fingers. “Yeah, I’m not just a pretty face, baby.”

The setting starts off slow, tedious, but then the kinky brunette amps up the speed.

“Do you want another finger, baby?”

“Yes.” You cry out, she slips another inside you, deliciously pressing on the spot deep within you. Once she’s found it, she continues to press on it over, and over, and over.

“So confident all the time but you’re really just a moaning bitch who likes to be fucked?”

“Watch it.” You demand.

“Or what?”

With a wild smirk, her eyes blissed out as she watched the goddess beneath her buck her hips, she maxed out of the speed on the vibrator until it’s buzzing on your clit. It’s the final nail in the coffin to send you into overdrive. You have no control over your entire body as it you seize and moan, unable to stop yourself from the not so subtle cry.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck……Abbyyyyyy.”

Francesca doesn’t freeze, doesn’t even push away from you like you half expect her to. No, she doesn’t do any of it. All she does is fuck you through your high, allowing you the same kind of pleasure you granted her. Your eyes shut the entire time as you imagine your best friend, the one person you can’t have, bringing you to completion. Eventually, Francesca lets off, walking to her closet to slip shirt on before she straddles your waist as if moaning another woman’s name means nothing.

“Sorry, I don’t know I—” You began to reason, trying to come up with some type of excuse as to why her name name slipped out of you and instead of the women who was just fucking you.

“It’s innocence of her, isn’t it? The blue doe-eyes looking up at you as if you created the world just for her to exist in it.” She plays with your tits as she talks to you, fuck, why is this so hot? “She follows you around like a lost puppy, begging to be saved.”

“Don’t talk about her.” Harshly, you bite back. The protective instinct you have for Abby is a necessary reflex, you don’t like anyone speaking about her, regardless of how much you want to fuck Francesca again. “You don’t know anything about her.”

Neither did you really. She wasn’t innocent she clearly loves to fuck, while others watched and you’re the one who can’t handle it. Francesca won’t know the truth about it. No one will, not even the woman who’s been occupying all your time, even if you’ve been avoiding her, trying to worm your way out of being close to her — Abby remains on your mind.

Constantly.

“I know girls like her, that’s enough. She wouldn’t be able to handle you even if she gave it her best shot.” You push her off of you as you begin to dress yourself, but right before you excuse yourself out to give a curt goodbye. Francesca, like the minx she is, spread her legs wide, a perfect angle of her pussy for you to devour. “I’ll see you the next time you need to forget about her.”

With a clear eye roll from her, you slam the door on your way out, trying to forget this ever fucking happened.

—

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hope you liked it! lmk what you think! ♡

#lmk what you think!#i'm in my active era i fear......but dont expect this to continue.....i will crash at any given moment #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x masc reader #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson smut #abby anderson angst #abby anderson fanfiction #abby x reader #abby x you #abby x y/n #wlw x reader

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bumblesimagines · 3 months ago

Text

Longing

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Old feelings are ignited when a childhood friend arrives at Kings Landing to help the war cause.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, references to vizzy t and Alicent's marriage, Alicent trying to justify what happened to her, free my girl from the clutches of the show writers who seem to think she has no trauma from being married to Viserys

This had been sitting in my drafts for a whileeee

~~~

With each quiet inhale and exhale, the strong scent of incense and smoke filled her senses, soothing and familiar. It filled her head with fading memories of all the times she prayed beside her mother back as a little girl when the Keep seemed so big and intimidating and she'd yet to find a friend in Princess Rhaenyra. Her mother always reminded her to trust in the Faith, in the Seven, for they were always listening. And perhaps they were, seeing as she'd prayed almost daily for the safe return of their soldiers and they'd only returned wounded.

Her eyes parted and she swallowed thickly, her hands clutching the skirts of her dark green dress as she rose onto unsteady feet, thoughts about the Gods and their opinions of her consuming her mind. It would hardly count as sin, she hoped, to pray for the return of a man whose face she's scarcely recognized.

Her husband was dead, thus leaving her a widow meaning she could think of others without the guilt of being tempted. But a part of her still couldn't help but be consumed by that sinful guilt; after all, there'd been many a time she'd silently wished ill upon her husband so the dashing knight she thought of so often may save her.

The knight of her dreams seemingly consumed her every waking moment, even then as she strolled out of Baelor's Sept and descended the stairs toward the awaiting carriage. She remembered him vividly from the times she accompanied her father on visits to Oldtown, eager to see her family and the place she would've called home if her father had been anyone else but Hand.

In those times, Gwayne's hair was longer and rested over his forehead in curls that resembled her own but what she remembered most of her brother was his closest companion: (Y/N) (L/N), one of her uncle's many wards who'd quickly become Gwayne's partner in crime.

She'd been fairly young then and with her mind alight with tales of knights and damsels, her imagination and hopes ran wild once her cheeks lit ablaze and her typical shyness heightened around him. He'd still been a boy, merely a lord's son with dreams of being a warrior, but he learned the way of the sword swiftly and Alicent oft' thought of the many ways he'd use the sword to save her.

Part of her had hoped he'd object at her wedding, that he'd rise and declare his love for her but instead, she watched him laugh with Gwayne and the other knights and dance with different ladies throughout the feast.

It'd surprised her when a wave of giddiness and anxious anticipation washed over her when she heard the news he'd be amongst the soldiers riding for the Keep to serve under Criston Cole's command. She'd been relieved to see her brother after so many years, of course, but to know he'd be there too and she'd finally see him in all his dashing glory compared to little else. Her presence in the courtyard that day had been brushed off as a sister waiting for her brother but her eyes had remained locked on him when he entered on his horse, his head held high and his expression calm.

It'd saddened her when they'd hardly had more than two days to speak before Criston led them off to their first small battle, and the sickening news he'd been injured in battle reached her through a letter from Gwayne. Despite herself, she'd managed to keep her distance and only politely ask about him as any good queen would but her worry and need to see him bested her.

Upon returning to the safe walls of the Keep, Alicent dismissed her handmaidens to return to other duties before she began the walk to the temporary bedchambers he'd been given whilst he fought for her son's claim. She knocked twice with her knuckles and twisted the handle to step inside, her eyes sweeping over the room before they focused on him and the young maester unwrapping the bandages around his waist. The maester dipped his head in greeting and resumed his task.

"Your Grace," (Y/N)'s voice rumbled and sent a chill down her spine. He regarded her with a polite yet warm smile that made her head feel fuzzy. "Are you in need of something?"

"I simply wished to check you were recovering swiftly," Alicent responded and gave the maester a small nod, her feet guiding her closer to him until the subtle smell of soap still clinging to him reached her nose. The maester stood and bent at the waist, offering her the fresh roll of bandages before taking his leave. "I hear it was an unexpected attack."

"Yes, it was," He nodded, watching her brush her palm over the back of her dress as she sat down beside him on the couch. His arm lifted and rested along the back of the couch, drawing her eyes to his shirtless upper body. "But we fought well, even if Cole is rather... inexperienced in commanding an army. I suppose I wouldn't be any different if I were in his position."

Alicent gave a quiet hum and peeled back the bandages, almost wincing at the fleshy pink scar across his skin. She set the old bandages aside to be disposed of later and carefully ran her fingers around the skin surrounding the injury. "I hear you gave Gwayne quite the fright," Alicent murmured, her attention drifting from the scar to study the rest of him. "He nearly struck Cole, or so rumors say."

(Y/N) laughed and then winced, his lips twisting into a brief frustrated pout before tugging into that familiar smile. "He apologized if it matters; It almost sounded sincere. I'm certain Cole learned why nobody enjoys being on the bad side of a Hightower." His amusement appeared to be infectious and a smile spread across Alicent's face.

"I'm glad you have each other." She told him and dipped her fingers into an ointment before gingerly spreading it over the injury. "I'm thankful Daeron has been raised by the both of you."

"He's a good lad, perhaps the best of the young lot we have." (Y/N) told her warmly. "He does not use what he knows against others, as is common with boys of his age who have such skills, and he's.. gentle.. kind. He is young but with time he would make an ideal Hand, and I'm certain once he is man-grown, you will receive many pleas from ladies desiring to be his wife. He makes a fine soldier but he'd make an even finer husband and father, I'm sure of it."

Alicent exhaled shakily and busied herself with unraveling the roll of fresh bandages to wrap around his waist. "That- That is good, I'm glad. He- I'm-... I'm truly thankful he's had the chance of having a fatherly figure in his life. I'm afraid his brothers lacked that warmth and love in their youth and now suffer the bitterness that comes with being deprived of it."

(Y/N) stared at her silently, his lips pursing slightly as he shifted to help her wrap the bandages. "Were you happy as Queen Consort, Alicent?" He asked quietly and her hands stilled, her breath catching in her chest and constricting inside her. He grimaced at her silence and carefully wrapped his hands around hers, giving her a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry you were unable to find happiness. Perhaps it would have been better if you'd remained in Oldtown with Gwayne."

"What was it like?" She asked quietly, studying their intertwined hands. "Growing up in our beautiful city?"

"We spent much of our youth training under Ser Frederick and Lord Hightower's watchful eyes to ensure we were the best knights Oldtown could offer. We had our fun, though. When the city grows damp, the coddled streets grow slippery. Gwayne and I and a few of the other boys would place bets on which unlucky Oldtowner would wind up falling after rainfall." (Y/N) recounted with a breathy chuckle. "There's a dog whom we named Melon. He's as free as the wind and as naughty as a jester. Ser Frederick gave up on trapping him, so he still roams the streets and training yard hoping to steal a wooden sword or meal right out of an unsuspecting lad's hands."

Alicent gave a quiet laugh, blissfully envisioning the older man rushing after a raggedy old dog who viewed it as a game. She envisioned herself there, as well, standing on the sidelines with the other ladies who watched the young knights train and giggled over which knight they desired for themselves. "It must've been something to grow up alongside Gwayne. He's as dutiful as is expected of a knight but he's always loved a bit of trouble."

"Ah, yes," (Y/N) grinned. "He's left a trail of broken hearts in Oldtown. The ladies swoon over him but he's fully committed to his vows and duties. He doesn't refrain from some flirting, though."

"And yourself? I'm certain the ladies swoon over you, as well." She'd already heard plenty of whispers from eligible courtiers in the Keep, certainly it was no different in Oldtown where the ladies had watched him grow and mature. Alicnet dragged the pad of her thumb over the skin of his hand, her insides twisting at the idea of hearing his interest in another. "There are.. many eligible ladies here in Court. A wedding would do wonders for the atmosphere of the Keep."

(Y/N) lips quirked and he tilted his head back along the top of the couch. "I've been approached by plenty of lords and knights wishing to bring forth a wedding but being chosen for Ser Frederick's position as master-at-arms and taking care of Daeron has allowed me to give plenty of excuses. I suppose it may be the time to begin eyeing the marriage mart."

Alicent hummed forcibly and freed her hands from his loose hold, rising from the couch and walking around it toward the pitcher with wine. "Lady Alysia Westerling has recently come of age, although you may find her too young for your tastes. Her sister, Lady Eleana, was widowed a few years ago and is searching for a new husband." Her ears picked up the quiet grunt that slipped from his lip when he stood up. "Lady Ellyn Baratheon has been betrothed to Aemond but the rest of the Four Storms remain eligible. The Lady-"

"The idea of arranging a marriage for me upsets you," He mused, sounding closer than she expected. "Your brother used to say you'd beg your parents to allow us to marry. He claimed by the age of seven, you knew precisely how you wished the wedding to go."

The horror of having an older brother, Alicent almost sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. Her skin flushed with the soft laugh that left him and she raised the chilled wine to her lips, flooding her mouth with the taste and hoping it'd flush away the swirling feelings in her chest. "Gwanye's always had the habit of overstepping when it comes to family." She murmured, running her thumb over the rim of the cup and tilting her head toward him.

His eyes flickered over her face and her breath hitched in her throat when his hand touched the back of her neck, his fingers calloused from years of working with them yet they felt far gentler than the touch of her late husband. Her lips parted to release a shaky exhale, her hold on the cup tightening and imprinting the designs into her palm. Her eyes fluttered shut when he neared her, their lips pressing upon each other, mixing the taste of wine and herbal tea when he pressed further against her mouth.

Goosebumps rose along her skin and she clumsily set the cup down, some of the liquid spilling over with her movements. He moved, his front pressing against her back and lips pulling away to press against the dewy skin of her cheek. His arms wrapped around her, caging her in a warm embrace that made her believe for a fleeting moment that everything would be fine, even with the prospect of a bigger battle at Rook's Nest. His fluttered kisses down to her jawline and then the side of her neck, his breath fanning against her shoulder.

"You are a widow, a woman no longer bound to a man and his house." He reminded her, his finger tracing the start of her off-shoulder sleeve. Her hands slipped toward her back and her fingers fiddled with the laces of her dress, pulling them free and loosening it enough for him to begin peeling the dress off her arms. "You've always spoken too lowly of yourself when you've always been the most eligible lady of the Crownlands."

She shakily exhaled when her dress slipped down and slumped around her ankles, her heart beginning to race and skip as it once had when she'd been a young girl. His fleeting and peppered kisses along her collarbone felt foreign, his warm tough new. Her late husband had always been rushed and clumsy, focusing on himself and muttering his late wife's name under his breath each time. It'd been her duty, something ladies did for the sake of their husbands and so few little enjoyed. But something old and forgotten ignited in her, a fire she'd long thought had been smothered.

Her eyes stung with salty, warm tears. Was this how it felt to be cared for by a lover? Was this the addictive feeling that had Rhaenyra returning to Ser Harwin Strong all those years? She longed for what could've been, for the years wasted away solemnly tied to a man whose heart remained with another and who offered her the minimum of care.

She'd told herself so often that she was one of the lucky few, one of those ladies whose husbands were kind but standing in the arms of someone she'd longed for so often, she wished she'd been left behind in Oldtown.

"Would you have married me?" She asked softly.

(Y/N) kisses the back of her head, his fingers kneading and massaging her hips. "I still could." He murmured into her hair, leaning back when she turned around to wrap her arms around his shoulders. Her doe eyes were widened, hopeful and pleading.

"I have prayed to the Gods since I was a girl for this." She told him, her hand resting against his cheek. "They have finally proven merciful, and have answered my prayers for the first time in years. Do not leave my side again, (Y/N). I do not wish to be betrothed to anyone but you."

#x reader #x you #x y/n #x male reader #x male!reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon x male reader #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon x y/n #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #alicent hightower #alicent hightower x reader #alicent hightower x male reader #alicent hightower x you #alicent Hightower x y/n

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