#it was dark so he couldn't see their face but he could Feel them and can estimate things like height weight etc

[indecisive-gm]

Well, I need to get myself to do some kind of writing. This one'll be in English, the next one in German

Deutsche Übersetzung: Nun, ich muss dazu bringen, ein bisschen zu schreiben. Dieses wird auf Englisch, das Nächste wird auf Deutsch.

Jamie woke up and looked around. The room was dark enough that she couldn't see anything. Her legs were asleep, but she could feel the cold metal of the chair on her arms and the rope tied around her wrists. What had happened? The last thing Jamie could remember, she had been on her way home from a trip to the store. Someone must have snuck up on her and abducted her. Maybe Ryla's advice about walking with other people at night in the city wasn't such a bad idea.

The lights turned on, blinding Jamie for a moment as her eyes adjusted. When she could see again, she recognized the face of the person coming in from the door.

"Roger!" she sighed. "It's you! How did you find me?"

Roger didn't speak. Not too unusual for him. He was polite--even pretty friendly once you got to know him--but he was quieter and often focused on getting to business. He immediately walked around behind Jamie's chair and started fiddling with the rope.

"Sooo, which one of them sent you to come get me?" Jamie jested. Roger glared in response. "Oh, I know you care. I was just messing with you!"

The knot in the rope tightened, and Roger took a step back. This wasn't right. Jamie knew Roger could tie and untie knots; he'd helped her tie her bike with a chain when she forgot the lock for it. It wasn't likely a joke either. Roger never had much of a sense of humor.

That's when another figure entered the room. Jamie didn't know him, and he didn't look friendly. He was followed by two other men, each with a gun visibly holstered. The man looked at Jamie and grinned. "You still got it in ya after all, Tim."

Roger grumbled, "Yes. did you think I didn't?"

"We had to be sure," the man in the suite responded. "What, with this running off and taking on a new name. We needed to be sure you were still part of the family." He stepped forward and put a hand of Roger's cheek. "We are, aren't we?"

Roger met eyes with Jamie. What was he going to do? Jamie had thought he was a nice person--even a good friend--up until now. When Ash's phone got a virus, it was Roger who fixed it and recovered the files. When Jackson fell down the stairs and broke her leg, it was Roger who had made a splint on the spot and instructed everyone on what to do to help her. When boys from one of the fraternities made lewd comments at Ryla, it was Roger who scared them off before things escalated. And when Jamie first came to the city, it was Roger who helped her get settled in in the group's shared apartment. After all this, was this really who he was?

Roger looked back to the man in the suit. "Of course."

The man chuckled and slapped Roger on the back. "Good to hear, my boy. I knew you were a smart one. Let's clean up here and go back home."

The men started to leave, and Roger followed. As the door was closing, Jamie heard the man speak again. "Timmy, you know better than to leave loose ends like this." The door shut, and Jamie couldn't clearly hear the rest of the conversation.

BANG! Gunshots erupted from the other side of the door. Jamie was too scared to scream. Silence followed, and blood pooled under the door.

After a minute or so, the door started to open again. Jamie closed her eyes and prepared herself for it to be over. Maybe Roger had held true for a final standoff, but that was over. And now her life would be over too.

She felt something tug at the rope on her wrists. "They shot my right arm. I'll need you to listen to my instructions to help get this rope off of you." It was Roger's voice!

"Roger! You're-"

"Alive, yes. Let's... not speak of this, ok?"

"But..." Jamie took a moment to think about what had happened. Roger's association with the mob would explain some of his skills, but it opened more questions. Where to even start?

Roger answered, "Ash and Jackson would just be scared if they found out, and Ryla has enough on her plate already. Besides," he gestured to the dead bodies just outside the door. "These guys won't be waking up any time soon, and the rest of the gang will be too shaken by the incident to come after me. There, now pull your left hand out."

Shaking the slight numbness from her left hand from where the ropes had decreased circulation, Jamie shook her head. "Fine, I'll try not to let them know." Looking over at the dead gunmen, Jamie said to Roger, "You're sure we shouldn't at least call the police?"

"And get myself arrested too? I'd rather not. Pull on that loop now. No, the other one."

The rope around Jamie's right hand fell loose to the ground, and she stood up. And immediately fell over. "Ow!"

"Yeah, careful. You've been sitting down for a while, and you took a pretty bad scrape when I knocked you out before."

Waiting a moment as she rubbed her legs and felt the prickle of feeling returning to them, Jamie thought about the situation. "Why wait until now?"

"What?"

"Why wait until now to kill those guys if you knew it was going to happen anyway? You didn't need to kidnap me like that!"

"I... wasn't sure what to do." Roger looked down in shame. "I thought I was free, so I was caught by surprise when they found me. I followed their orders up until now, hoping to avoid the worst." He looked up at Jamie. "But I'm not willing to do the worst to avoid the worst. I want to help people, and I want to be a good friend." They both stood in silence for a moment. "I'm sorry for what happened. It won't happen again."

Jamie looked around the room one last time. With the light and not having to fear for her life about the people in front of her, she could actually get a good look at everything, not that there was much to see. It was a small cellar room, almost like a closet. Just outside the door, she could see a water heater and a washer and drier. Fortunately, this wouldn't be the last room she would see. Roger almost killed her here, but things could have ended worse. Looking back at Roger, no longer entirely sure what to think of him, she offered, "Well, I guess we can go home now?"

"Ah, not just yet." He gestured to his right arm which had been shot and to the blood all over his jacket and pants. He walked past Jamie to the drying machine and took out a clean pair of pants. "If I could borrow that closet for a second."

Jamie waited a moment in the laundry room while Roger changed pants in the cellar closet. This wasn't what she had expected, but how much could she really blame Roger? He was in a bad situation and did what he could. He had been one of the kindest and most helpful people she had known up to now. Was she ready to throw that away?

Roger came out of the cellar closet in a fresh pair of pants and without his jacket. "I found this old gym bag in the corner of the room. It looks like it hasn't been used in a while, so I don't think the owner will miss it too much. It'll help hide the bloody clothes." With a t-shirt and fresh sweat pants, he looked more like himself--though the slightly bloody torn cloth wrapped around his arm was new.

No, Roger had helped everyone else when they needed it, Jamie wouldn't be giving up on her friend now. Roger had clearly been through a lot. He had definitely hurt people, but he was trying so hard to do better, and had become a reliable figure to look up to for others. This was a horrible day, but Roger had done what he could in the end, and Jamie couldn't fault him for that.

"Let's get you to a hospital for your arm."

"No," Roger replied. "I've dealt with this before. I'll survive."

"You've helped us, it's time I do something to return the favor. We can stop at home first to drop off your jacket and pants."

Today you just found out your roommate with strange hobbies, like knowing how to pick a lock, knows how every puzzle and cipher by heart, or how to commit tax fraud, and so many other things, wasn't a guy with ADHD, he was an ex-assassin and now you have a gun pointed at your face

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

The Prophet spoke, and the faithful knelt - Viktor x Reader (Explicit)

You would never be a hero for Zaun, a revolutionary, a leader. But you would care for your prophet with every single breath your body would allow.

***

You couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at you with something other than disgust.

The bumps on your skin were large and deformed, like warts on a toad's back. Dark, unnatural purple spots had consumed most of your body, your veins glowing faintly inside your flesh. Staring at them, pulsating like worms making their way through your organs, still gave you unparalleled nausea. You were the kind of monster little children of Piltover feared in the shadowy corners of their bedroom, and you couldn't remember a time when it had been otherwise

The others like you all lived in small, crummy camps, where the warmth of a teared-up blanket was something worth killing your neighbour for. If the value of human life was close to none in Zaun, here, it was worth absolutely nothing.

A wasteland inside a wasteland.

Most lived off scraps left by bars; there were few other ways to get food. The familiar feeling of hunger digging its sharp claws into your stomach had never lessened. For water, there were only the thick metal pipes, going above to supply the golden city, which sometimes leaked drinkable but rusty liquid.

The best days, the only bearable days, were those where you found half-used needles of shimmer in the trash. For a few blissful hours, you were someone else, somewhere else, and nothing in the world could hurt you. Then it was back to being cold, hungry, and alone.

You had tried to live a semblance of a life, once, when the craving for shimmer hadn't been so all-consuming. But addicts were bad for business: customers didn't like seeing them, with their empty eyes and malformed bodies, and they were a very poor investment for an employer. How many months, or days, before they would abandon their job in favour of chasing their never-ending high?

Then there were the whore houses. One could get a few pieces of copper, if their body wasn't too ravaged by the drug. Damaged goods still sell, but for a fraction of the price. And yet there it was no better either: patrons would come in, use you, and leave, without ever looking you in the eye. Like you were less than human.

But not him.

He looked at you without ever flinching, without ever shying away. There was no sign of disgust or pity in those strange eyes of his, but an endless compassion, something that went beyond your comprehension. As if a simple glance at you had allowed him to read every corner of your soul.

You could have sworn time had stopped the second he locked eyes with you. In the warm amber of his pupils swayed a reflection of pale blue, like sunset on the ocean.

You had fallen to your knees without ever willing your body to do so, pressing your forehead against the cold gravel. It feels natural, almost instinctive, to bow in the presence of a god. For what other word could describe him, his presence, his aura?

Did someone like you, ugly, broken, filthy, deserve to see beauty like this?

A gentle hand brought your face back up towards the sky, lithe fingers tucked under your chin. Soft, so soft.

His eyes were back into yours, the sunset having morphed into a pool of liquid gold. Tears had begun to fall from your eyes, rolling down your scarred cheeks and onto his delicate hands. He shushed you before you attempted to speak, like he already knew whatever words you would tell him.

“It's alright. I will take care of you.”

The digits slid slowly across your face, impossibly smooth, and you couldn't help but nuzzle into the touch, revelling in the feeling of a sensation you had all but forgotten. He softly pushed the dirty hood off your face, hand settling on top of your matted hair. You closed your eyes; whatever this man was willing to give you, be it salvation or judgement, you simply knew you were ready to accept it.

And then, everything became light.

—

You saw him perform miracle after miracle following that day. He brought people back from the depths of hell, which they'd lived in for so long, with the simple touch of a hand. He brought back the smiles, the joy, and the hope all of you had given up on.

To your community, he was everything.

The familiar presence of his voice called for you inside your mind. It was so comforting, having him there, feeling him as a part of you. Knowing he would never leave you, that he would never let you be alone again.

He looked like a statue when you found him, seated in his cave, still and ethereal beyond your mortal comprehension. The gods had crafted his face from porcelain; his body from the world's most precious metals; his eyes from the sun and the sea; and his smile with the very essence of magic.

“Here you are. I was beginning to worry.”

That was not true; both of you knew very well you had heard his voice and were rushing to come to his side. Yet, the idea that a being such as him would worry about someone like you made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Herald?”

“Mm?”

He blinked, calmly, peacefully, as his eyes met yours once more. No other feeling compared. His pupils glowed inside the barely lit cave, a gentle and divine light emanating from his face.

The words were hard to get out, and you found yourself fidgeting with your hands, looking away from his perfect gaze.

Get a hold of yourself, you admonished your brain. You had practiced this moment more than once.

You were certain he knew exactly what you were about to ask him; he knew every thought going through your mind, after all. Which meant he knew of the nights you spent dreaming of him, of his body, and of the hundreds of ways you craved the touch of your messiah.

But he simply looked at you, calm and composed, the hint of a smile barely on his lips.

Briefly, you wondered if he was teasing you by letting you stew in your anxiety.

“I have come to realize,” you began unsurely, voice almost breaking, “that you always take care of others, Herald. Always take care of people like me.”

He observed you with that indecipherable ****gaze, still not moving an inch. You gathered all your courage to stare back at him as you pronounced your next words decidedly:

“But does nobody take care of you, Herald?”

He smiled, properly this time, yet still calm and moderate. It was beyond beautiful, his delicate features marked by soft dimples, the hint of a mole over his lips. You would have given your life in a heartbeat if it meant he would have smiled at you like this once more.

“I don't require such things anymore,” he explained serenely, fingers absentmindedly tracing the complex patterns of his arm. “This body doesn't feel cold, or hunger, or want. It is pure of all the desires the man I once was might have had.”

You swallowed with difficulty; was he rejecting your advances? You could not bear living without knowing you had done everything for him, given him every inch of your being.

“But that man,” you tried once more, moving a timid step forward, “he is still part of you, isn't he? Wouldn't it only be fair to take care of him too?’

There was not a hint of confusion in his expression; he understood exactly what you meant. Yet one of his eyebrows had slightly risen, perhaps of amusement or appreciation for your boldness.

“If you have something in mind,” he simply replied, his thick accent hypnotic, “you should show me.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

You would show him what his gift had meant to you.

Gradually, reverently, you approached the frugal throne where he sat, a simple rock formation at the back of the cave. You kneeled at his feet and gazed up, unsure if you were allowed to touch him. He gave you a light nod, a glim of endearment in his eyes.

With deference, you slid the fabric of his tunic to the side, parting his knees to give you access. You felt your cheeks heat at the realization he had no underwear, trepidation bubbling in your lower stomach. Then you stopped right in your tracks.

Where there should have been… something, there was nothing.

Your mouth opened in surprise, but no words managed to find their way out. You spluttered, confused, gaping at the being above you.

A low, small chuckle.

His luminous eyes were teasing, barely enough so that someone else would not have recognized it; but you did.

“I could not resist to watch your reaction,” he admitted, “My apologies.”

His delicate hand covered the area of his groan, and a faint light shone between the cracks of his fingers. The sound of metal forming, pieces sliding with one another, echoed inside the empty cave. When he removed his hand, it was as if the member had always been there.

As you had always pictured in your dreams, the Herald was well endowed, even in a softened state. It was without question like a regular human’s, but devoid of any veins, marks, and bumps. Not a single hair adorned the base. It was all perfectly smooth, the head only distinct from the rest of the length with its thickness.

He was art, in the most primordial sense of the term, and you could do nothing but admire him.

“This body shapes to my will,” the Herald explained at your look of awe, “It had no need for genitalia, so it did not have any. At least… before now.”

Your fingertips slid timidly on the indigo skin, feeling the polished texture. The contact felt pleasantly electric, like his body brimmed with untapped energy. The first small lick was somehow nostalgic, the feel of popping candies bursting pleasantly on your tongue.

When you wrapped your lips around him, you could immediately tell his taste was unlike anything you'd ever had before. The coppery flavour of metal mixed with something so enticingly sweet it could not be anything other than the taste of the arcane itself. An encouraging hand petted your head softly, fingers threading through strands of your hair. You moaned with your mouth still full of him; a single touch from him was enough to have your core burnt with want. You sped up your pace, taking as much of him in your mouth as you possibly could. The energy pulsated against your tongue, his cock hardening to your rhythmic pace. The thickness of his tip kept hitting the back of your throat, cutting oxygen for a few blissful milliseconds at a time and making you see stars.

It was perfect.

And yet, after a few minutes, you realized something was wrong.

You'd been with your fair share of men and women before. The twitching, the moaning, the cramping of the thighs from the building pleasure and the coming release- it was all absent.

You pulled back with a soft ‘pop’, looking up at your prophet once more for guidance. The same all-knowing visage stared back at you, that boundless compassion he had for all mankind. You understood what was happening, now.

“Herald,” you said slowly, voice horse from taking him, “why have you called me today?”

Silence. It looked as though he was thinking over his next words, choosing how best to explain things to you.

“I could sense you needed guidance,” he finally answered, “Support. I merely wanted to help in the way you needed me.”

Helping you. He was helping you once again. Even now, when you begged him to let you help him, he was still only thinking of others.

“You're not satisfied,” the Herald deduced from your crestfallen expression, “Why?”

Tears of frustrated devotion prickled the corner of your eyes, and you felt like a pathetically pouting child:

“My goal was not to satisfy myself. It was to please you.”

Perhaps you had dreamed it, but a glimmer of surprise flashed in his sunset gaze, gone too soon for you to ever be certain.

“Allow me to try once again, please. I will do better,” you requested, resting your head against his inner thigh, his cock still perfectly hard against your cheek. Looking up at him from under your eyelashes, you whispered your next words like a prayer, hoping it would reach him: “It is all I want to do from the deepest part of my heart.”

The smile again, so slight and yet so luminous. Perhaps he hadn't cured your addiction to shimmer, and had simply replaced it with the profound need of him. A drug you never wanted to be freed from.

“Very well,” he acquiesced, voice low, “you may do it again.”

This time, you could tell there was a genuine look of surprise in his neutral expression when you stood. ‘So he can't tell my thoughts immediately as I have them,’ you reflected silently. ‘I can use that.’

It was without asking that you made your way onto his lap, legs bent on both sides of his thighs. The position wasn't very comfortable, rocks digging into your knees; but he was so close to you that you felt the warmth of the arcane emanating from every pore of his body. The pleased look he gave you at your initiative made you feel emboldened, and you guided his cock to your entrance, lining yourself to slowly slide down on his length.

“I do not wish to interrupt,” the Herald made you pause, thick eyebrows furrowed in slight worry, “or to appear to stroke my ego, either. But I believe it would be wise to… prepare yourself, prior to taking me.”

You looked away in embarrassment, confidence fading, not wanting to reply directly. To explain how you had prepared yourself for him in your tent, in the slim hopes this moment might happen, would certainly be the death of you.

His eyebrows rose back up, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. He understood.

“I almost forgot how prepared you always are. Clever girl.”

You felt yourself tighten at the compliment. You committed the words to memory, engraving them in your mind forever. You would never forget when your Herald had praised you.

You patiently lowered yourself onto him, inch by inch, getting accustomed to him. A little shamefully, there was an undeniable selfishness of wanting this moment to last as long as possible.

When you took him whole, it was almost too overwhelming to bear.

His size was an undeniable component, both in length and girth. You had to wonder: had he been so big when he was but a regular man?

‘Yes’, a familiar voice supplied in your head. Had you not known better, you could have sworn his tone was slightly cocky.

But it wasn't just his dick, either. The flow of energy running through you from the point of your connection was dizzyingly intense, coherent thoughts barely stringing together. It felt like the high of shimmer but unbelievably more potent, simultaneously cutting you open and putting your body back together. This was being alive*.*

“Breathe,” he reminded you, a guiding hand sliding to the small of your back. Even now, he still took such good care of you. Overwhelmed tears had begun to fall down your eyes without you sensing their presence, and you tried to regain some semblance of your senses.

For a while, minutes, maybe hours, only the sound of your panting resonated through the cave. You gripped the Herald's shoulders tightly, scrunching the fabric of his tunic in your fists. His impartial expression never changed, but neither did the way his hand held you in place and comforted you. Once it felt as though your lungs were getting air again, you began moving.

All of it seemed like a dream; the feeling of fullness between your legs, the slow drag of his cock inside you, the warm wetness of your juices slipping out with each trust. If there was no heaven for sinners, then you had found your own right here. You picked up the pace, settling into a fast and wild rhythm. You scanned his features for any sign of disturbance; the slightest hint of red coloured his pale cheeks, the faintest laboured breath coming from his lips.

So he was still a bit human, after all.

You kept moving with renewed vigour, not able to contain wanton moans of pleasure.

“May I try something?” he asked, voice low, deeper than you had ever heard him speak.

You let out a sound of approval that dissolved into nonsense when the tip of his cock hit the spot you had carefully been avoiding. This time, he moved, ramming over and over against your cervix, too deep for comfort, shaping you to him and only him. You were so close, right on the edge, begging him for release with gibberish.

He had undeniably felt your incoming demise, and with one last push inside your core, he leaned his head forward, bringing both of your foreheads together.

In that moment, you were him as much as he was you, a single mind in perfect balance. You saw everything he saw, felt everything he felt. The weight and lightness of the cosmos, the thousands of strings connecting him to his followers, the understanding of the final step for humanity.

The Glorious Evolution.

And with that, you came, body spasming uncontrollably against his. You fell into the crook of his neck in exhaustion, sobbing, wondering if you had just died in your prophet's arms. Far away, as if he was in another room, you heard his comforting voice shushing your whines, his long fingers caressing your cheek. He looked at you as if you were the one to be admired. Too much, it was all too much.

Perhaps an eternity had passed as you came back to your senses. Things felt tangible once more, corporal, the now cold feeling of your wetness drying on your inner thighs. There was a feeling of awkwardness, of embarrassment, and you hesitated between staying still or pulling him out of you. Were there proper steps to follow after something like this, or any steps at all?

“You didn't…” you commented, unsure what proper term to use to not seem crass.

You didn't cum. You didn't fill me.

“I am not certain that would still be biologically possible for me,” he answered with little emotion, seemingly neither bothered nor frustrated by that fact.

Even if he hadn't been linked to your mind, your disappointment would have been palpable. You had wanted him to experience some of the relief he had given you, to release all that could have troubled him inside you. You wanted to care for him.

Selfishly, perhaps, there had also been the want to carry your prophet's seed so no one would ever question who you belonged to.

“However, to the extent this body can still feel pleasure…” he continued, not missing a beat, otherworldly gaze deep in yours, “you took great care of me. Thank you.”

This time, you smiled.

You would never be a hero for Zaun, a revolutionary, a leader. But you would care for your prophet with every single breath your body would allow.

And there was nothing more important to you than that.

[mc-lukanette]

Marinette and Luka both knew they had a problem. It'd begun when they'd started dating and only escalated from there.

Neither had really noticed anything in the beginning, nor did anyone else. Those outside of their relationship were busy dealing with the shock that the two had even gotten together in the first place. Granted, some surprise was understandable as, unlike other matters that were given spotlights for all to see, they had been developing their bond in the privacy of each other's company, where no one could tell them how to feel or think.

Once the others had accepted that reality, then came the realization that the two were not as simple as they initially thought. They saw the hyperactive Marinette calm simply by standing next to Luka, they saw the laid-back Luka break into a run whenever he heard that Marinette had arrived, they saw the clumsy Marinette only trip and fall purposefully as a teasing excuse to be held by her boyfriend, and they saw the quiet Luka laugh loud enough to scare off nearby pigeons.

They did everything together, or at least tried their absolute hardest to. Marinette would bring Luka sandwiches made with fresh bread from the bakery, as opposed to the quicker and unhealthier meals he would've grabbed thoughtlessly when he was busy with a song and didn't see a need when it was only him eating. Luka, meanwhile, would come up with lullabies for when Marinette was tired but unable to sleep, often leading to the two napping blissfully on the couch side-by-side.

It was because of such things that no one expected anything wrong. They could chalk it all up to Marinette being well-rested and Luka being well-fed, which was how it went for a while. They would catch the two sitting on a couch, on a bed, on anything they could find that had enough room for the both of them, cozying up to each other as they got into their creative processes. Luka would play his guitar and write new music as it came to him, whereas Marinette would sit and sketch or sew depending on her mood, both unquestionably productive.

The problem? Now they were too productive.

It wasn't uncommon for friends to spot the two in positions that they were sure must be uncomfortable, such as Luka balancing Marinette and his guitar on his lap while they both created away for their next project. Marinette occasionally traded out one sketchpad for another if it was more convenient, allowing her to rest it on Luka's guitar so he could play while she had a surface to draw on. Their friends made faces at them, but they seemed wholly oblivious to it.

Even during sleepovers where one couldn't go home due to how dark it was outside (after stalling for long enough to reach that point), sleep wasn't always a viable option. One or both of them would squirm with a restless mind and reach for the nearest paper or instrument to get in an hour more of output.

That, of course, gave Luka more of a reason to play Marinette a lullaby later so they could nap together, effectively generating an endless sickeningly sweet cycle of creating, napping, eating, and sleeping together. It was enough to make even the more romantic couples feel single.

One might think there would be burnouts or times where neither could do anything, but those were remedied as fast as they came or, more accurately, as soon as the other noticed. When Luka reached such a point, fingers lingering on the strings without the ability to play, Marinette would kiss his face, or whisper sweet nothings into his ear, or tell him how amazing it sounded so far, and he would be at it again with renewed spirits. When it was Marinette who struggled, her pencil mindlessly scribbling more than drawing, he would walk her through it and whisper suggestions or his own thoughts into her ear, even awful ones, which gave her enough to bounce off of or a clearer path to go down.

It wasn't uncommon to find Luka at the entrance to the bakery, or Marinette going across the gangplank to the Liberty, a skip in their step and a fresh new idea to drop on the other. There were at least a handful of occasions where they'd met halfway unexpectedly on their way to visit the other, which led to them plopping down in the nearest cafe to talk rather than delay by going to either's home.

Some weeks, they would have stacks of papers lined up from everything they'd done and would discuss them over the weekend. One particular incident led to a makeout session that knocked the stacks over and sent them flying. Sketches mixed with songsheets, colors mixed with blacks and whites, and neither could be bothered to care as their work fluttered over one another and spread out onto the floor.

Marinette and Luka both knew they had a problem. They just had no interest in finding a solution.

[itsa-me-lily]

A double feature who would have imagined???

Not what I was thinking was going to follow up Who's Flying the Airplane but I have no regrets.

Here is the Military Program Spouse Master playlist

Here is Simon & Thimble playlist

Content warning;

fear, anxiety, concern that someone broke in, concern about harm being done, non graphic violence, swearing

Someone was in your house. It was the middle of the night and someone was in your house. You hadn't known what had woken you up at first, and you were about to turn over and try to fall back asleep when you had heard it. The sound of a cupboard closing. Fuck someone was in your house and you were alone, Simon was deployed to who knows where and there was someone in your house.

A cold washed over you as panic woke you up fully. What were you going to do? You had no idea if you called 911 if it would send someone from the city or if it'd become some clusterfuck of rerouting to someone on base. What if something happened during that time?

You weren't about to go scrambling out of a window because that seemed like it'd lead to you needing an ambulance rather than escape. Plus you'd have to figure out how to take the boys with you and you didn't trust them to keep quiet.

If fleeing and hiding weren't an option, that just left fight didn't it? Sure you kept a baseball bat under the bed for just in case, but you never really thought you were ever going to need it.

With your heart in your throat you crept out of bed, reaching out for the bat. Even if you had no idea what you were going to do with it, feeling the weight in your hands helped make you feel a little better. It was solid, it was a weapon, and it was going to see you through this.

You were grateful that Simon was so pedantic about oiling all the hinges on the door because it was practically silent when you opened the bedroom to peer out into the rest of the house. It was still so dark but you could just make out some dark shape in the kitchen.

It was large and almost human shape and just standing there. Given how there was no reaction at the door opening whoever it was must have had their back to you. Alright, you could do this. Just needed to give them a good thwack or two and then...figure it out from there. You could do this.

Only you hadn't anticipated that when you finally did manage to get to them and swing, that whoever it was would be faster than you. Before you could register it, the bat was grabbed mid air and ripped from your grip, clattering to the floor loudly before you were being pinned against the wall, a strong arm pressing against your throat.

One hand reached out to try to at least claw at the face of whoever was attacking you, while the other slammed against the wall, searching for the light fixture. Your heart was slamming against your chest. Your nails dug into something, pulling as hard as you could until you felt something snap. You could barely breath let alone speak. It was so dark and you felt like you were seconds away from being swallowed whole by it.

And then you finally found the light panel and you managed to flip the switch. The bright lights hurt your eyes, so that must have meant it'd hurt the intruder. Only as soon as the lights came on things seemed to stop, or at least the arm wasn't pressing so tightly anymore.

"Thimble?"

Once you managed to blink the spots away from your sight you could finally see in front of you clearly. It wasn't an intruder. At least you didn't think so?

"Simon?"

The guy had Simon's eyes, but where the surgical mask typically blocked out the rest of his face, it now was hanging from a single ear. You must have yanked on it hard enough to break it. You couldn't stop yourself from scanning over his face, taking in the slope of his nose, how his lower lip was thinner than the top, the almost split in his chin. He had a scratch on his cheek. Had you done that?

"Bloody 'ell, what the fuck do ya think you're doing?"

You were released from the wall and the first deep breath you took also seemed to rush some sense into you. Fuck Simon didn't like showing his face, and this wasn't like this was a situation where he was willingly letting you see him. You spun around so you'd face the wall instead, also covering your eyes for some reason.

"Sorry! I heard a noise so I just-"

"Decided to meet it with a fuckin'...bat?"

You shrugged, starting to feel humiliation at your stupidity seep into your bones.

"I didn't think I'd make it out a window, and I didn't know if the police would be fast enough?"

You could only imagine what Simon was thinking. Even as you explained yourself you could see how stupid you were sounding. It was silent behind you for a few minutes before you heard a deeper sigh.

"Where'd you even get this thing from?"

"I keep it under the bed when you're gone."

"Hnn."

You were either getting better at distinguishing Simon's different noises, or you were loosing it. Because it didn't completely sound like a disappointed hnn. More one of consideration. Like a 'it could be worse'.

"Turn around, let me take a look at ya."

You almost did but stopped, biting your lower as you hesitated.

"You sure? I can turn the lights off and you can get another mask if you want."

It was the least you could do seeing as you tried to bludgeon the man in his own kitchen. Simon was silent as he considered your offer. without answering the question you could hear footsteps and the soft swish of a drawer being opened. You were so tempted to turn your head and steal a glimpse of him again, but you had a feeling that if you tried to take back your offer to not look it'd break the trust you two had built. So you waited.

"Al'ight you can turn around now."

When you did you were greeting with a more familiar sight, Simon with half his face covered and those eyes staring down into you. You didn't know why you felt so shy all of a sudden. Must have been the attempted assault.

"You okay?"

"Feel like I should be the one askin' that. How's the head?"

You reached up to feel the back of your head, only to unexpectedly have Simon back in your space, his hand moving as if to cradle the back of your head. You both startled, pulling back and stepping away from each other. Or well Simon stepped away. You were pretty much still stuck against the wall.

"I think at worst I'll just have a goose egg back there. How's your wrist?"

Because Simon must have caught the bat in full swing. You weren't the strongest person in the world, but you had swung that bat like your life had depended on it.

"Hnn."

Oh that was Simon's 'I don't want to talk about it' hnn. Which meant it might have hurt. Oops. You pushed past the mountain of a man, your mouth and brain for once running at the same speed.

"Let me get ice or something."

It ended up being or something. A bag of frozen peas that you hadn't quiet figured out what to do with yet. A cold compact would suffice at least. You busied yourself with wrapping it in some paper towels before turning to find Simon yet again looming over you. You needed to put a fucking bell on that man Jesus.

You hesitated to put the cold peas directly on him, unsure of which wrist you could have possibly injured. And of course Simon ignored the offered bag in favor of gently tilting your chin up to look at your throat. At least you assumed that's where he was looking. It was already a strange enough night you really didn't feel like asking a ton of further questions.

"You sure you're alright?"

You'd never heard Simon be so...not timid, but almost smaller. Like the weight of what could have happened was pressing down on him. Like he was already blaming himself for something he hadn't done.

Reaching up you took care to wrap your fingers around his wrist slowly, to give him time to pull away if he wanted. He didn't and you gently rubbed your thumb against his inner wrist. You met his gaze and gave him a small half smile.

"I'm okay Simon. Promise."

Putting things to rights went pretty quickly, thankfully nothing had broken in the struggle. Simon had insisted that you go back to sleep in the bedroom, that he'd prefer to stay on the couch anyways. He had even made a joke that he was a bit more useful than a baseball bat. So you went back to bed and he camped out on the couch.

You didn't fall back asleep easily after that. You laid in bed, thinking over and over again about the look Simon had had in his eyes. It was like he had been searching your soul for something. What you weren't sure, but you hoped he had found it.

It wasn't until you were drifting off to sleep again that you thought about his face in its entirely. You know it was accidental, but you couldn't say that you had minded getting a glimpse of his face. Who knew your husband could be so handsome?

Edit;

Simon never forgets to text you that he's on the way home again. He also installs cameras for the front entrance so you can see whoever is at the front door.

He also doesn't say it outright, but he's so thankful that you don't become scared of him. He almost felt the urge to cry the next morning when you gave him his morning cup of tea with a real smile.

He is also trying to figure out how to either make a panic room or install bigger windows in the bedroom because the 'go beat it with a bat' plan is not okay by him by any means.

Edit Edit;

I am picturing Samuel Roukin's face as Simon's at the moment. (No offense to Jeff Leach the original actor, this is just who I had stumbled upon first in my original nose dive into COD) Also I am terrible at describing faces lol

[wholoveseggs]

Hi, I really love your work and think it is out of this world with how you are so connected with the characters and details! I would love to see one of Elijah and reader getting intimate and her having to use the safe word and him being all sweet (like usual!). Thank you ❤️

Cedar

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} What begins as a night of unrestrained passion shifts when Elijah takes things too far, and he makes sure to show you just how deeply he cares for you in the aftermath...

♡♡ Thanks for the request @eternalnoble !! hope you enjoy ~ ♡♡

3.6k words - Warnings: pure smuttt, rough sex, oral sex (f!receiving), safe word usage, praise, blood drinking, biting, choking, blood kink, dom!elijah, protective elijah, intense aftercare, and a smidge of angst...

@starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05 @sweetieseven

@xoxo-shy @nova-j @decaffeinatedparadisepost @fandom-princess-forevermore @theotherworld97

@origshipfan @cocoabliss @eternalnoble

Elijah was in a mood from the moment you walked into the party. You could tell just from the way he was holding himself, standing up tall with his chin raised and his back straight as a board. He was looking over everyone as if they were beneath him and he was so far above them, his dark eyes narrowed and his jaw tense.

You approached him with a drink in hand, offering it to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "What's got you so upset?" you asked quietly.

He took the drink, taking a sip as his other hand rested on your hip. He was pulling you against him and you had to hold onto his shoulder to stay balanced. He leaned down, whispering in your ear, "you know how I feel about this little dress you have on,"

You couldn't help but grin, leaning further against him and taking his earlobe between your teeth. "What's wrong with my dress?" you teased, knowing the reason behind his attitude.

"Nothing at all," he replied smoothly, "I just can't stand the idea of everyone else seeing you in it. How are they supposed to resist you?"

You giggled softly, leaning up and kissing him. "They can't. But i'm all yours,"

His hand slid over your ass and gave a firm squeeze before he pulled away, a small smirk on his face and a dusting of pink on his cheeks as he looked around and made sure no one saw him do that. You just shook your head with a smile, he tried so hard to be the perfect gentleman in front of everyone, but you knew the real him. And the real him loved when you teased him, when you pushed his limits, and when you wore the kind of clothes that drove him mad.

It was a dangerous game you were playing, the kind that would end with you face down and your hands bound as he had his way with you. The thought of it made you squeeze your thighs together, shifting on your feet to try and get rid of the pressure in your core. It was only early evening, there was no rush to get home …yet.

You and Elijah mingled with the crowd, his hand staying on you as often as possible and his body close to yours. Everyone wanted his attention and to speak with him, but you could see the tension building up in him as time went on. He had been so busy lately, and equally pent up. You both needed a night of release, and you had no doubt that was what he was planning.

When you had enough of the party and you could see that Elijah was on the brink of losing his patience, you walked up to him, your hand finding his. You stood on your toes, pressing a kiss to his jaw and whispering in his ear, "take me home,"

He finished his drink, placing it on the tray of a passing server. "I can't think of anything I want more," he whispered back.

The drive home was torturous. Elijah kept one hand on the wheel, the other on your thigh, his thumb brushing along your skin as he drove. It was innocent, but you could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. You reached down and placed your hand over his, stroking his knuckles and smiling when he turned his hand over to hold yours.

When he pulled into the driveway, he cut the engine and stepped out of the car. Before you could get out yourself, he was already at your side, opening the door for you and offering a hand.

The more gentlemanly and sweet he was, the more you knew he was holding back. He wanted you right there in the driveway, and you knew the second the door closed behind you, his patience would be gone.

He led you into the house, locking the door behind you. Before you could take another step, he had you pressed up against the door, his lips on yours in a hungry, desperate kiss.

Your hands found his suit jacket and shoved it off his shoulders, his own hands finding your thighs and hoisting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed him back, your arms draping over his shoulders.

He carried you up the stairs, never breaking the kiss as he made his way into the bedroom and dropped you on the bed.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him strip off his suit, tossing his clothing carelessly on to the floor. His eyes were dark, his hands were already shaking. You had never seen him so desperate for something, and it made a fire roar in your core.

When he was naked, his hands reached for the hem of your dress, pushing it up and over your head. Your bra and panties followed and then his mouth was back on yours, his hand holding your neck to keep you in place. Your hands found his hair, grabbing fistfulls of the thick strands as his hand moved down your body.

"Elijah," you whined, squirming under him and trying to reach for his cock. He was still being sweet, kissing your neck and leaving marks along the way. But you wanted more. You wanted the animalistic, feral side of him. The side that took what he wanted. The side that left bruises and bite marks.

"Patience," he murmured, pulling away.

You whimpered, but stayed quiet as his hands grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. His eyes darkened, a growl rumbling in his chest as he held you in place. You tested his grip, trying to pull away, but his grip tightened and his lips turned up in a smirk.

"I've been thinking about this all night," he said, his free hand running along your neck, tracing the vein under your skin. You swallowed thickly and bit back a moan, his hand squeezing your throat and his thumb pressing into your jaw.

He leaned down, his tongue sliding along your jaw and then his teeth sinking into the flesh of your neck.

You gasped and arched your back, your hands tugging against his grip and his hand tightening. His mouth sucked harshly at the bite mark, his hand loosening enough to let you take in a shuddering breath before his mouth moved down to your collarbones, sucking dark marks there.

This was only the first bite and Elijah had so many ideas on where he could mark you. He was planning on drawing out every ounce of your pleasure, driving you to the edge until you were ready to burst and then pulling back. He wanted you to be ruined, his name the only thought in your head.

"Do you remember the safe word?" He asked, his mouth moving to the underside of your breast.

"Yes,"

He smiled, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before he sunk his fangs into your breast. You screamed, tugging against his grip as a mixture of pleasure and pain ran through you. Your back arched, your fingers clenching into fists.

"Say it," he demanded, pulling away and lapping at the bite mark, a low groan vibrating in his chest.

"Cedar," you gasped, your thighs squeezing around his hips.

"Good," he whispered, "and if you can't speak, three taps,"

You nodded, biting your lip and whimpering as he left a trail of bites and hickeys along your ribs. He was moving lower, his free hand spreading your thighs and his mouth moving down to the apex of your legs.

You never knew if he was going to lick, bite or suck, and the uncertainty was driving you wild. He had an iron grip on your wrists, keeping you pinned as he marked every inch of your body. He was moving lower and lower, leaving teasing little bites as he reached your thighs.

You could feel his warm breath against your core and you whined, bucking your hips up and trying to get him closer.

"Be patient, sweetheart," he said, his lips curving into a smirk, "we are just getting started,"

You huffed, falling back against the pillows and letting out a low whine.

He laughed, his fingers tracing patterns along your thighs and then his teeth were sinking into the tender flesh there. You gasped, throwing your head back and letting out a string of curse words.

Just when you were about to demand he stop teasing and start fucking, his tongue pressed flat against the your clit, licking at it slowly. He held your hips down as he ate you out, his tongue finding all the places that made you shake and writhe.

Your skin was stringing from all the bites, bruises blooming where he had been. The pain and pleasure were mixing, making you see stars. His tongue was working wonders, bringing you higher and higher, his mouth sucking on your clit as two fingers pressed inside of you.

Your back arched, his grip on your wrists tightening and a broken moan left your lips. The mix of pain and pleasure was overwhelming. Your body writhed, your mind was stuck between pushing him away and holding onto him. You cried out and squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the rush of pure euphoria crashing over you.

You were panting, your hands clenching and unclenching as he crawled back up your body, his lips finding yours. You could taste yourself on him, the mixture of sweat and slick covering his chin.

"So pretty," he murmured, his thumb tracing the marks along your collarbone.

He pulled back, his eyes scanning over every bite and bruise he had left. He was pleased with his work, a low purr rumbling in his chest.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you towards him before suddenly flipping you over. Your face was pressed against the pillows, his hand tangling in your hair holding you in place.

You could feel his warm breath ghosting over the back of your neck, a shiver running down your spine.

His other hand ran along the curve of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh and then giving it a harsh slap.

You cried out, your hips bucking back against him.

"I don't think I can be gentle," he said, his tone light, "is that okay?"

"Fuck, please," you whined, squirming against the mattress, "I want you, Elijah, please,"

You heard him chuckle softly before he tugged in your hair, a sharp gasp escaping you as he leaned down and bit into your neck. He was rough, his teeth sinking deep and his hand coming down hard against your ass again.

You moaned loudly, the mix of pleasure and pain driving you mad.

When he pulled away, his lips pressed a gentle kiss against the new bite mark. "So beautiful," he murmured, his hand sliding down and tracing the outline of the bite. "Will you be a good girl and take what I give you?"

You nodded, letting out a low whine and pushing your hips back.

"Good," he breathed, his hand wrapping around his cock and lining himself up with your entrance. He took his time, easing into you slowly and hissing out a curse, holding you still by the back of your neck.

You whined, turning your head as much as you could, trying to see what he was doing. He was leaning over you, watching as his cock slowly sank into your tight pussy. When he bottomed out, he stayed still for a moment, looking down at you.

He could see how badly you wanted to push back and fuck yourself on his cock. But you couldn't move, and he smirked, leaning down and kissing between your shoulder blades

"Such a good girl," he murmured.

When he finally started to move, the thrusts were slow, agonizingly so. His lips moved from your shoulders up to the back of your neck, nipping and biting and soothing each mark with a kiss.

He had you pinned, trapped between him and the bed with his cock deep inside you, stretching you to your limits. His breath was warm on the back of your neck and he let out the softest moans that only grew louder as you squeezed around his length.

He sped up his movements, snapping his hips against you and holding onto you. His nails dug into your neck and he buried his face between your shoulder blades, moaning out your name as he fucked you.

You were panting, whining, begging for more and he obliged, the sound of your desperate cries fueling him on. You were a mess under him, your body rocking back and forth, the sheets bunching in your hands, your mind in a haze of lust and ecstasy.

The mix of pain and pleasure was driving you crazy. You could feel him pressing you further into the bed with every thrust, his hands gripping you as if he was trying to crush you. He was panting, moaning your name and biting at your skin as he chased his release. His pace becoming punishing.

His hips stuttered and his thumb unintentionally pressed into the bite mark on your neck. Your head was forced further down into the pillow, and the pain caused tears to gather in your eyes.

Your throat was burning, the lack of air making it hard to focus on anything else. The pleasure he was giving you was being drowned out and it became too much. You were going to pass out. Panic began to rise. You couldn't breathe. You needed it to stop.

"Cedar," you gasped out, but you couldn't find the air to make the word any louder.

But Elijah heard you, he could feel the way your body tensed up and the way you were struggling to breathe. He let go of your neck, pulling away from you and sitting back on his heels.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice full of concern, his hands helping you roll over onto your back.

You gasped for air, tears slipping down your cheeks as you struggled to catch your breath. He looked so concerned, and you felt awful that you had ruined the moment.

His eyes went wide at the sight of your tears, and he started to apologize. "Oh my love, I'm so sorry," he said softly. He gathered you in his arms and sat up, pulling you into his lap. "I went too far, I shouldn't have-"

You buried your face into his neck and wrapped your arms around him, trying to calm your racing heart as his arms tightened around you.

"It's okay, I just couldn't breathe for a moment," you told him.

You could feel the guilt coming from him, and you lifted your head to press a gentle kiss to his jaw. His hand cupped the back of your neck, stroking softly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing your forehead.

"It's okay, Elijah. Really."

You leaned in, your lips ghosting over his, but he didn't move, just stared at you with wide eyes and his brow furrowed. He was falling into his guilty, protective state, the one he always went to when he thought he hurt you. His hands were so gentle, so careful, and he looked so upset.

"Elijah," you said softly, smiling. "It's okay, you didn't do anything wrong...you stopped when I said to,"

His hands ran along your back, tracing the outline of your spine. His lips parted and he sighed. "I pushed you too hard," he whispered. "You're crying,"

You lifted a hand to wipe the tears from your face, only realizing just how many of them there were as your vision cleared. You probably looked way worse than you actually felt, and you knew he would blame himself.

You took his face in your hands and smiled again, giving him a gentle kiss and pulling him down on top of you. You ran your fingers through his hair, stroking gently as your other hand held his.

"You know how much I love when you let out all your power on me," you reminded him, smiling up at him.

Elijah frowned, but the guilt in his eyes faded away as you reassured him. You cupped his face in your hands again, smiling up at him and stroking your thumbs over his cheeks. His skin was warm to the touch and he seemed to relax as you continued to smile at him.

You spread your legs, and raised your eyebrows expectantly. Elijah watched you, and then his eyes fell down between your legs where you were open and waiting for him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice soft and quiet.

You nodded, lifting your hips up. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his hands resting on either side of your head. His cock brushed against your inner thigh and you shuddered, letting out a soft whimper and reaching between you both to line him up.

He slowly eased back inside you, his kisses gentle and loving as he began to move. He kept his pace slow, making love to you as if you would break at any moment. But it felt amazing. Your heart swelled at his gentleness, the way his hands caressed your skin so tenderly and lovingly, how he kept murmuring sweet nothings in your ear as his body pressed you down into the bed.

"I love you, so much," he mumbled against your lips as his hips slowly began to roll against yours, his cock pushing deep inside you and pulling a moan from your throat. His hand reached between your bodies, rubbing at your clit in time with his thrusts. "Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your back arched, your eyes squeezed shut. You let yourself go, floating away in the warmth of the pleasure, of the love you felt for him. His eyes locked on yours and he smiled, leaning in and kissing you deeply as his own release took hold. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, grunting as he emptied himself inside you.

"You're so perfect," he said softly, lifting his head to kiss along your jaw, then down to your throat. You felt the graze of his fangs, but he didn't bite. "My good girl,"

Your cheeks flushed and your head fell back onto the pillows as you tried to catch your breath. You were a mess. You felt as if every ounce of energy had been sucked out of your body. Elijah slowly eased out of you, pressing one final kiss to your forehead as he collapsed beside you.

He pulled the blankets up over the two of you, holding you against him. He stroked your hair and smiled softly as he watched you catch your breath.

You buried your face in his neck, inhaling deeply and nuzzling into him. You were tired and your whole body ached, but in a good way. It was the kind of ache that made you smile and hold him closer to you. You never felt as loved and cared for as when you were with him.

Elijah's fingers brushed over all the marks on your body. You could see him frowning, his jaw tensing as his eyes lingered on every bruise and bite. His hand fell away, and he pulled you tighter against him, his breath uneven.

He closed his eyes, but you knew his mind was far from at rest. Guilt lingered in the tension of his embrace, his protectiveness now tempered by the knowledge that he'd pushed you too far. Elijah prided himself on control and hearing you use the safe word struck a chord deep within him. Like he could no longer trust himself with you, no matter how much he wanted to.

“I hurt you,” he murmured, the words almost too soft to hear.

“You didn’t,” you replied, lifting your hand to stroke his cheek. His eyes opened, dark and conflicted.

A tear slipped down his cheek and you leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his skin, wiping the wetness away.

He swallowed thickly, his fingers brushing across the mark on your neck. The skin was red and bruised, the outline of his teeth imprinted in the flesh. He couldn't help but frown, a sick feeling rising in his stomach.

“I should’ve been more careful,” he admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

You smiled, your thumb brushing over the crease in his brow. “Elijah, you don’t need to carry this. You’re allowed to let go with me, just like I let go with you.”

His lips twitched into a faint smile, though the weight behind his eyes didn’t entirely lift. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his hand smoothing over your hair as if grounding himself in the moment.

"You should sleep," he whispered. "You need rest."

"Stay with me?" You asked, your fingers tangling with his.

"Always," he murmured.

The warmth of his embrace eased any lingering tension, and you felt him relax as sleep began to claim him. You nuzzled into his neck, your heart swelling with love for the man who could be both fierce and tender in equal measure.

You watched him as his body slowly gave in to sleep. His head dropped down against the pillow, and his hand slipped from yours as he dozed off. You couldn’t help but smile. He looked so peaceful, as though the storm within him had finally stilled.

He was a very passionate man. He took what he wanted when he wanted it, and you loved how he could go from soft and sweet to rough and intense in just a matter of moments. You trusted him to love you and protect you, and he did... with everything he had.

[nickscodthoughtsblog]

To Understand (König/Nikto)

The inevitable followup to Shot in the Dark. this time they get to talk a lot more and Nikto helps his new friend understand his situation. i did some research to understand dissociative disorders myself, but if there's some stuff that's not right, i apologise, im still learning. enjoy!!

He didn't get a lot of chances to speak to Nikto again after the first time. He was either busy, or Nikto was gone. Two days later, Krueger was back, safe and victorious. It was kind of nice to see the Russian not sitting alone. But König couldn't figure him out. He referred to himself as we. He could understand they and them, but we? Outside of a group setting, it didn't work. He was missing something.

He was walking towards the gym when he ran into Krueger, only stopping when he felt his hand on his shoulder. “King. One moment.” He stopped him, pulling him to the side of the hallway. König let him distract him from his thoughts, practically welcoming it until he spoke. “Nikto said you tried talking to him.” 

“I didn't try.” König was a little put off by the wording. “We talked for…not very long, granted…” 

“Exactly. You tried.” Krueger replied, a hint of smugness mixed with his accent. “Not my point.”

“Did I upset him?”

“Nein, nein…he was the smallest bit happy when he told me.” He paused, putting his hands on his own waist. “What the hell did you say to him?” It was like he was imitating an angry mother telling a child off for being a bad influence.

“Almost nothing. I got his name, and said it was good to meet him.” König explained. “Is it wrong he's slightly happier?”

Krueger huffed a little. “You're misreading me, and you know it. I'm just wondering how you do it to everyone you talk to.” 

That was…almost concerning, actually. “Do what?”

“Scheiße, King, you have got to notice it by now. You always have a good impact on everyone in KorTac. Even Nikto. He said his system kept thinking of you after you talked.” 

König was about to quote his own mother in that “kindness goes a long way”, but that word caught him out. System… “His what?”

Krueger shrugged, his arms settling crossed across his chest. “It's what he calls it. Whatever it is. Haven't got a straight answer out of him.” So, Krueger doesn't even know everything about him either. God, did anybody besides the top brass know a damn thing about him!? “... you still there, King?” 

He blinked, getting his thoughts in order. “Ja, ja. Do you know where Nikto is?”

“If he hasn't moved yet, he's…probably outside, near the training field?”

“Danke. See you later, Krueger.” And he left, nudging him accidentally as he walked past. Krueger had no time to ask what got into him.

It was cold out, but it didn't stop König from going out and finding Nikto sitting on a bench, by himself. “Nikto, there you are.” He greeted him as he came to a stop next to him. “Mind if I join you?”

Nikto looked up at him, studying his face for a moment. “... feel free, König.” He watched him sit, not uncomfortably close, and not awkwardly far. “Did you need something?” 

“Oh, nein, it's just been a while since we talked.” 

“It's been two days.” 

“Ja…that is while, isn't it?”

A small huff. Amusement, he thought. “Mm. You're right.” It was strangely relaxing to hear. 

But then it went back to quiet between them. Kὅnig wasn’t really sure how to bring up his questions about this system of his. Not yet, at least. “Say, Nikto.” He caught his attention, those distant eyes turning to him. “It’s pretty cold out, isn’t it?” 

“A little.” He took a moment, looking up at the cloudy sky. “...do you think we’ll get snow?”

“I don’t know.” Kὅnig joined him in watching the clouds slowly drift above. It was quite calming to sit here and watch them with him. “Would you want it to?”

“...да. We like snow.” he replied, only pausing for a moment, like he was thinking. Maybe he was seeing what his system wanted him to tell Kὅnig. “It’s…calming. Like a gentle blanket. I like it undisturbed, smooth…это нас расслабляет.” A few seconds go by, before he glanced over, noticing the slightly confused look in the Austrian’s eye. “You don’t know russian, do you?”

“Ah, nein…” he rubbed the back of his neck under his sniper hood.

“Neither does Krueger.” Nikto looked back up at the sky. “Helps to…hide things from him.”

“Hide things?”

“Things some of us don’t want him to know.” 

“You mean your system?” Kὅnig couldn’t hold his tongue fast enough. 

Nikto’s eyes snapped over to him. “...did Krueger tell you about that?” He nodded a little, slightly nervous he overstepped. “...сука…”

“I’m sorry, should I have not said that?”

“Not your fault.” Nikto grumbled, adjusting and sitting up a bit more. He held out his hand. “Your phone.” He was a little annoyed, but was glad Kὅnig didn’t resist, taking out his phone and unlocking it before placing it in his hand. He sighed, and typed something into the browser before handing it back. 

Kὅnig read over the page. “...dissociative disorders?”

“I was diagnosed a few years ago. Acute, as they put it.” He didn’t watch him read the information. “Don’t expect me to tell you how or why.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Good.”

It was a lot to take in. He spent a bit of time just scrolling and putting things together in his head. “...you didn’t have to tell me, you know.”

“Да. But better I tell you than Krueger.”

“So…he knows?” The Austrian looked back over to Nikto, curiosity in his eyes. “He said he couldn’t get a straight answer…”

“Of course. We told him not to tell anyone.” he huffed. “He missed the part where we meant any of it.”

“Ah. Well, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.” 

Nikto paused, looking over to him once more. “...thank you.” 

“Of course.” He didn’t want to make him uncomfortable after all. “So, do you like winter then?”

“...it brings some comfort to us.” Nikto replied, not taking his eyes off the tall man. He only nodded a little in return, not pushing it but seemingly open to hear more. “One of them finds peace in the cold. Comfort.” He settled, letting himself be a bit more open. 

“I can see that.” Kὅnig replied, nodding. “It can be nice to watch the snow fall.” 

“Да. She thinks so too.” 

Kὅnig thought for a moment. “Would you mind if I…ask some questions about your, uh…system?”

“Why?” was his immediate response.

“So I can avoid offending you.” He didn’t expect him to respond so…genuinely.

“Go on.” He didn’t see the harm, though he was tentative.

And they sat there, not minding the cold as Nikto answered some of Kὅnig’s questions. Things like “What do you call the others in your system?” and “They have different genders?” were simple to answer, and he was more than comfortable to. There were more sensitive questions he was unsure about, but the big man didn’t try to coax anything out of him. As soon as he saw the uncertain look in his eyes, he stopped, giving a small apology and changing the topic for a bit. Krueger had mentioned he had an odd talent for getting on everyone’s good side. He had thought he was just forcing everyone to be his friend. But just from how he didn’t press hard topics, it…didn’t seem that way. 

Nikto didn't bother to keep track of the time on a good day, but it felt like it was flying by. Questions and answers between brief pauses, information not only given, but received. It seemed like every answer he gave paid for a small story in return. For telling him about the therapy he went through after his diagnosis, he received a description of Kὅnig’s own sessions for his social anxiety - how a man bold enough to approach him for conversation could have anxiety was strange, but he was in no position to judge. A short explanation of how his alters work, for a more light-hearted story of the cookies Kὅnig’s mother made for his birthdays. It was nice to hear that he had a family life that wasn't in tatters. 

Ten minutes ago it didn't even seem like he was fishing for details on the disorder. He focused more on how Krueger became close to Nikto, and went on to tell him about his friendship with the others in the PMC. One long tangent. Even now, he was recounting the times Horangi had placed bets with him over seemingly random things. Unfortunately, his phone buzzed, an alarm reminding Nikto to get something to eat. Kὅnig stopped when he saw the masked man close his eyes and sigh. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing is. I have to go get food.” He stood up. 

“Have you not eaten yet?” He seemed pretty shocked, checking his phone. “It's six in the afternoon, Nikto!” 

“We lost track of time. It's fine.” He dismissed it. “One thing, though.” He stepped closer to him, staring him in the eyes. “Do not tell anyone what we have told you. Да?” 

“I promise.” 

He kept staring into his eyes, just to see if he was lying. He didn't seem like he was. “Good. Just making sure.” His hand came up, solidly patting his shoulder twice as he walked past him. “See you, Kὅnig.” 

Even as he left, he was glad the big man had decided to try. He was almost, in some way, disappointed the talk ended. 

Maybe it could go on longer next time they spoke.

[beef-brisket]

The room was silent. Finally. After who knows how long,the pitch black room is silent.

A dragging noise made Steve look up from his knees. Multiple strings of blood broke at the movement. Steve could hear the wet sound of it as he slowly pulled his limbs apart.

He doesn't dare stand. He's not sure he can anymore.

Has Lucifer finally come to save him? Has anyone?

The dragging noise stopped, and Steve slowly crawled his way to where the noise was last heard. He was shaking, trembling. Each movement was agony. His vision still flashed with images and his ears still run with shrill voices.

Then, he knocked into something. It was heavy, and I didn't feel like it was budging. He reached up and felt fabric. And warmth.

His breath shuddered. He hasn't felt anything but the cold. His hand flinched back, like it was burned, but he quickly welcomed the feeling, placing his hand back on that warmth.

Slowly, he pulled himself up on weak legs.

Steve: Something... touch... I can feel it...

He's reached for those figures plaguing his vision, but he's never been able to touch them. He hasn't touched anything in so long.

He didn't know when, but it felt like all the furniture was suddenly gone. The room was empty. He had no idea where he was. It could have been a void for all he knew.

He collapsed onto whatever was in front of him, rubbing his blood, sweat, and tears onto it. As his hand rose higher, he felt a twitch. The thing was shaking. Struggling. It's alive.

Steve smiled, or at least he thinks he is. He suddenly buried his teeth into the warmth, savoring the liquid that slowly filled his mouth. It was sweet and metallic, and it tasted so good.

The thing was thrusting more. Now, where's sounds were coming from it.

Slowly, Steve buried his teeth in more, taking a chunk out of the thing. And he chewed. He hasn't eaten in days, whatever this was tasted heavenly.

That's when the thing groaned and cried. Cried? How dare it cry when he has no eyes left to cry out of.

Voice: Why help you... why not me...? Am I really that much of a burden? Yes... I am- more than a burden... I don't see why you deserve mercy, and I don't even get worry... no one... came... but the screams, and the taunts, and the truths, and the lies... was I deserved or underserved?

Steve clawed into whatever he could. He shuddered at the warm liquid running down his arms. He ate and drank. But he still wasn't full. The taste was making him sick.

The next thing he knew, he threw up everything he just devoured. His stomach is empty and hollow. The acid burned his throat.

Voice: What could I do... what more... shall I give my life? Is that worth anything? No, of course not- not worth anything, worth nothing... I wish I was worth something...

Steve gripped his head. The voice was loud, almost wanting its words to be true. But Steve knows better. They were his inner thoughts, but the voice didn't sound like his.

That's when he screamed. The lights were suddenly switched on. After so long in the dark, the light overpowered him.

He clutched his head and fell to his knees. He desperately tried to look around, but he only saw glimps. Until some force held his head up, and his eyes opened. And he screamed at what he saw.

Adam was chained to a large wooden table, but it was lifted, so it looked like he was standing.

His legs were eaten, his stomach covered in claw marks. His rips and chest clawed and torn apart.

Alastor's laugh filled the room: Poor pathetic hellborn. Couldn't even recognize the one you supposedly love? You're as much of a monster as they say~.

That's the voice. The voice he's heard for however long he's been here. The voice thag spoke his inner most thoughts out loud. Alastor.

Steve screamed and clawed at his face and head. Why did he do this? Why Adam? Why didn't he recognize him?

Steve almost vomited again at the undigested pile of flesh on the ground next to Adam. He deserves death. There's no righting this wrong. Adam doesn't deserve to live in a realm where Steve's heart still beats or where his lungs still breathe.

He makes for the door, clawing at the wood before trying the handle. It's unlocked. For how long? He didn't care.

He opened it and bolted. He almost hit Lucifer.

Lucifer: The fuck- Steve? How did you get out-? The fuck happened-.

Steve: I'm sorry! Adam! I'm sorry!

Lucifer's eyes widened and took off to the room where Steve was held.

Steve climbed floors and floors of stairs until he reached the roof. His and Adam's blood trailed behind him. He made it to the ledge and looked out at his home. His prison.

That's when the hotel shook with Lucifer's scream.

Steve smiled. He found him. He could help Adam. Adam deserved saving. Deserved loved. Deserved help. Steve deserved worse than Hell. He deserved to burn. To be pulverized over and over. He deserves his pain. He was born to suffer and to cause pain. And he's lived up to his purpose.

Steve walked to the edge, tucking whatever was left of his wings into his body. He lent forward and watched the ground get closer and closer. Till blackness.

Steve At The Hotel

@beef-brisket

Lucifer smiled at Adam as he rested in bed, hands on his pregnant belly. It was hard to believe that they were going to have twins and just got married.

Finally, they were with their soulmate after all the bull shit they went through.

Finally they can relax.

-

Steve smiled at the radio demon he was so excited to start working for him.

Alastor gave Steve a room key for his room at the hotel.

Steve: Thank you Mr Alastor sir. I won’t let you down.

Alastor smiled: Oh I know you won’t.

[acourtofquestions]

“She had no magic to wield, save for the keen eyes of the goddess at her shoulder and an uncanny ability to remain unnoticed, to play into expectations.”

[hershelwidget]

Hi I just completed Dual Destinies and I keep on getting SHOT with prophetic visions of a game where Phoenix fucking dies but he becomes a ghost that can only be seen by the light of a specific flashlight that Athena has and through the usual Ace Attorney shenanigans he b. did i just write ghost trick

[monstersflashlight]

A/N: This is a longer version of this story and it’s purely self-indulgent (like 99% of my stories lol). Enjoy!

Set up by a baby-orc

Orc x fem!reader || sfw, meet-cute, possibly soulmates

There was a little orc pulling at your hand, taking you with him to the door. "Come on, teacher, come with me." You let him drag you out, chuckling at his insistence.

He was such a cute kid, you knew you shouldn’t have favorites, but some kids made your heart all soft because they were just so fucking cute. And the tiny orc dragging you to the door was one of them. He was so shy when the school started, and in only a month he’d come out of his shell so much you couldn’t be anything but proud.

"Where to? I have job to do, hon, the other kids might need me," you tried, amused at his antics. But he wasn’t having any of that, grabbing your hand stronger and pulling until you follow after him with a laugh.

"You need to meet him!" He insisted, pulling harder and making you wince internally. Baby monsters had an amazing amount of strength even when tiny, you had to remind them to be careful with the humans, especially with you. Ouch.

"Who?" You asked, genuinely curious, following along with him out of the school and into the little patio where the parents and guardians could wait until the little ones were ready to go.

"My uncle!" He exclaimed, pointing across the patio with his tiny chubby green hand. You walk next to him for a few more steps before you look up.

You were about to tell him you couldn't get out of the school when you looked up and faces the prettiest orc you've ever set your eyes on. He was looking at you with the same level of amazement, and something inside of you just... knew.

You walked like a zombie next to the baby orc, not even registering what he was babbling about next to you as he pulled you along until you were right in front of him. You had to look up, and up, and up to be able to stare at his face, but you felt like it was too much, too soon, and ended up looking back down to the baby who was still talking animatedly.

“I told you she was human! Look! Look! Her skin is not green!” He sounded so excited you couldn’t do anything but laugh as his uncle blushed in the greenest green, making him look impossibly cute, probably even cuter than his nephew.

“I can see that,” he said in a low voice, so deep and so growly that made you want to press your legs together. You bite your lip not to giggle when his eyes fixated on you. He had such dark eyes you felt like he could see into your soul, and when he focused his sole attention on you for a fraction of a second, you felt your heart-beat spiking, your mouth suddenly very dry.

“Isn’t she pretty? She doesn’t have tusks like me!” He says it as if that’s such a feat and you have to cover your mouth to avoid laughing out loud.

“Yours will grow eventually, though,” he explained, kneeling on the floor so he was closer to the kid’s height even if that’s not near close to the baby sized orc. He was on his knees and he still was a couple centimeters taller than you. Your inner size queen was screaming very loudly.

“They will?!” The baby sounded so shocked that you choked on your saliva trying to avoid laughing.

“Yes, hon, yours will grow until they are as big as your uncle’s,” you explained, touching his head affectionately.

You tried to avoid looking at his uncle, but every time you caught a sight of him on the corner of your eye you felt a shiver ran down your spine. You were shivering with the need to touch him, even if it was just a poke in the cheek, and you had to physically close your hand to avoid doing exactly that.

You didn’t know what was with him or why you were feeling like only looking at him, took all the air out of your lungs, but you were giddy and shy about it. You didn’t know what to do or what to say. “I should go back to the kids,” you let out, breathless after looking at him for less than ten seconds.

“Yeah. Yes. I guess so.” You were walking back to the school when he said behind you: “I’ll be seeing you again… that’s a promise,” his gruff tone made you shiver as you smiled as big as the sun, not daring to turn around and look at him one last time.

But when you were about to enter, you turned around slightly and saw him still on his knees, looking intently at his nephew as the baby told him something. He looked up and your eyes met, and your breath got caught in your throat, your heart beating fast and your face flushed. He smiled at you with his beautiful tusked mouth, and you almost had to fan yourself, smiling back as you ran inside, your hand on your chest trying to calm your frantic heart.

Maybe the kid had a point about meeting his uncle.

A/N: Let me know if you want a part 2 of this, if enough ppl is interested I’ll write it.

[dollfacefantasy]

dig your claws right into me ♡

logan howlett x fem!reader

logan hurts you when he has a nightmare. now you both have to deal with the fallout.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, descriptions of nightmare, injury, and blood

a/n: reader is a mutant but i didn't specify her powers so you can imagine what you want. just some sickly sweet intimacy cause that's what i was feeling tonight <3

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

The words come out whispered as Logan's lips press against the three tiny bumps of developing scar tissue on your abdomen.

"I already told you that you don't have to be sorry," you say. Your voice drifts into the space between the two of you as soft as the movements of your fingers running through his hair.

"Well I am, bub. You should want me to be."

Each one of his hands rests upon either side of your waist. His fingers squish against your flesh while his eyes stare at the scars on your belly. He gazes at them like the small marks, all equidistant from one another, could be willed away by his harsh look. He hated the fact that they were there at all. Even worse, that he was the one who gave them to you.

"But it was an accident," you respond, giving one of the tufts of his hair a gentle tug.

His dark pupils flit up to look at your face. "Doesn't matter. It being an accident doesn't change the fact that you're gonna have these marks forever. I wouldn't care that it was accidental if I'd killed you."

He remembers the night it happened that seemed like a real possibility.

His light sleep had been interrupted by a nightmare. Over the time that had passed between then and now, it'd become indistinct from all the others he experiences regularly. The only difference between that one and the ones he'd had since he'd started sleeping next to you each night was the intensity. That night had been rough. Normally when he slept in your room, he seemed to be able to tone it down. Almost as if his brain knew to not act up while your relationship was still starting to blossom.

But two weeks ago, his mind didn't care. It flash-banged him with the usual images of himself in that tank. The searing, splitting pain of the adamantium attaching itself to his bones.

Usually, if he had a nightmare beside you, he'd grunt and twitch, maybe shift around a little. That night though, you got to see the whole performance. The tossing and turning, sweating and moaning, tense limbs and scrunched up face.

Poor, sweet, innocent you thought that you could just wake him up. Your hands nudged at his bicep and shoulder as you gently cooed "Logan. It's just a dream."

In the end, your tenderness didn't matter. When he actually came to, your anguished cry was all that registered. And then he felt the sharp heat between his knuckles that meant the claws were out. His heart dropped and his vision nearly blacked out. He couldn't have.

He retracted them as quickly as they'd appeared and pulled back to look at you. Crimson flooded the gray t-shirt you'd worn to bed. The three little spots spread into large blooms of scarlet. Your hands flew to the spot to clutch at it, but they did nothing to stop the warm liquid from spilling out.

"No, no, no, fuck," he'd whispered frantically as his mind raced for a solution.

Your cries morphed into whimpers. Soft and vulnerable. Like a prey animal that'd been fatally wounded but not put out of its misery. Blood seeped out onto your bedding, and it was then that he rocketed off the mattress and scooped you up into his arms.

Fortunately, Scott, Jean, and Storm were already outside the door in the hall, having heard the scream. A gathering of students lingered behind them as well. Shame coursed through his veins, albeit dulled by the panic. He remembered thinking it was stupid, but after the adrenaline left his system, it was the dominant emotion he was left with. Ashamed was the only word that could describe holding the knowledge that everyone here now saw he was capable of hurting the woman he loves. Maybe he was no better than an animal.

In truth, shame was all he felt now. So much relief settled over him since you'd made it out alive. Thanks to the enhanced physical capabilities from your mutation and Jean's adequate medical skills, these scars would be the only lasting effect of the wounds.

He'd rushed you down to the infirmary faster than he'd ever moved in a non-combat situation. His feet thundered down the stairs, a part of him withering to ash with each little whimper you let out as the motion jostled your body around.

"I'm sorry, bub. Almost there. We're almost there. You're gonna be ok," he'd mumbled out thoughtlessly, saying anything he could that would bring you even a shred of comfort.

He kept your hand in his the entire time you were down there on the cold examination table. His grip stayed firm. He wouldn't let the anxiety over your well being consume him. This was his fault, and now you needed him. He didn't get to be worried or upset or anything that wasn't in support of you.

When you howled in pain, he winced as if he was the one being treated. You cried for him, choking out "Logan" through tears over and over. It tore him apart inside. All he could do to soothe you was stroke your cheek and murmur reassurances in your ear.

"Shh, shh, shh. You're doing so good, baby. My strong girl. Being so brave."

He usually reserved affection for private moments, but in those painful seconds, it felt like you two were the only ones in the room.

These thoughts running through his head display across his face. The way his cheek squishes against your tummy and his eyes vacantly stare at the wall opposite his bed. You told him the next day that everything transformed into a blur in your mind. You remembered the feeling of being stabbed and the sight of him panicking, but beyond that nothing specific stayed. You knew he held you and talked to you even though you couldn't recall an individual thing he said or did.

That was fine with him. He listened to you tell the story from your perspective. You spoke with your normal cadence, the usual happy glow in your eyes, and the same animated gestures coming from your hands. His eyes lingered on your torso though. The bandages peeking out from underneath your clean camisole he'd changed you into.

Every last detail of the incident was etched into the deepest part of his psyche. Most likely stored away as material for future nightmares. As much as he hated it, he figured that's the way it should be. He didn't deserve the peace that comes with forgetting.

For the first week after it'd happened, he wouldn't sleep with you. He'd stay with you, cuddled against your body, until you drifted off. Then he'd get up and skulk back to his own room, leaving you cold and alone on your bed.

Eventually after a few more days, you got him to try it out again, but he'd only do it in his own room. It was hard for him to be in yours. New sheets covered your foamy mattress now since the blood wouldn't wash out of the old set. Each brush of the novel material against his skin was just a rose-printed reminder of what he'd done to you.

He's snapped out of his recollection when your voice returns to the original conversation.

"None of that stuff happened though. You didn't kill me, and you're not going to. I'll be more careful next time," you break the silence with a gentle reassurance.

Next time. That's what hurts the worst. You knew this would happen again. You'd promised that when it did you wouldn't try to wake him. Wouldn't touch him or do anything that could set him off. Just give him his space and let him work through it.

"I don't even want you worrying about being careful when you're trying to sleep," he grumbles.

Your nails scrape over his scalp, making his eyes flutter. A deep sigh leaves him. As much as he hated himself for all of this, he could never help easing up under your touch.

"You're worth it."

Three words you said so often. He never believed them, but that didn't stop you from repeating them like a slogan. Instead of arguing with you over the validity of the statement, he stays silent. Replaces any verbal response with a physical one by nuzzling into the warmth of your stomach and laying kisses around your navel.

You watch the affectionate gesture and trail your fingers down to the nape of his neck, massaging the tender skin there.

"You are," you whisper, "One mistake doesn't define you. Doesn't change how I see you."

"It's not just a simple mistake-" he starts.

"Yes it is," you interject, trying to nip his self doubt in the bud.

"It's not. It's not like I forgot your birthday or left my wallet behind when taking you out."

"It's still an accident. The severity doesn't change the intention. Would you hate me if my powers acted up and hurt you?"

God, you could be just as stubborn as him. It grated on his already frayed nerves. He shifts to look up at you fully. And some of that building tension dissolves upon seeing the earnest look on your face.

"It's not the same. Anything you did to me, I would heal," he says.

"I'm healing too. I'm just not as fast as you," you respond. You actually smile as if this is some lighthearted matter. Of course you knew it wasn't the same. You presented no danger to him whereas if he'd nicked you an inch to the left, he might be talking to your headstone right now instead of you. That wasn't the point though.

He shakes his head. "It's different, bub. But I'm not even saying you should hate me..." 

In truth, he didn't know what he was saying. If he wanted you to hate him or stay away from him, he could be the one to break things off. But he was still right here, arms wrapped around you and head hovering inches away from your body.

"I just think you should be more cautious than you're being," he finishes, "I don't want you to think you have to put up with this."

You frown and pet his hair. "I don't think that."

"I'm not trying to lecture you, baby," he sighs, "I just don't want to hurt you again."

He could certainly flaunt a pair of puppy eyes when he wanted to. The way he was looking up at you now made him seem so sad and wounded. Like a dog who can't control when he bites but gets kicked aside for it all the same.

"You're not going to. We'll be careful. It was an accident," you say, tone almost pleading, "You're still my Logan."

To go along with your words, you pull on one of his arms, beckoning him closer. He complies with your request and scales your body so that the two of you are aligned. You stare up into his eyes and the whirlpools of emotion within them. Your hand lands on his cheek, your thumb stroking back and forth in small swipes.

"I'm not gonna let you pull away cause of this," you whisper, "It wasn't your fault. You don't choose to have those dreams."

You can tell he wants to argue, but he struggles to find the words. Indirectly cutting him off, you guide his head closer to yours. His face slots against the crook of your neck, and yours does the same in his. You nuzzle him there, breathing in the rich, musky scent of him.

"You're not wrong for wanting to be happy. You don't deserve to be alone," you say and kiss below his ear.

The words make him ache from within. His metal bones vibrate with the weight of possibility of that being true while his heartbeat feels as though it stutters between his ribs. He wants to huff and say that he knows, that he doesn't need you psychoanalyzing him, thank you very much. But none of that will come out. So instead he chuckles. He tries to make it sound smooth; although, the awkwardness is apparent in each bit.

He pulls back a little and smirks down at you. "So you think I'm cut out for being gentle? Is that it?"

You know what he's doing. As closed off as he tries to be, you don't need telepathy to sense what he's feeling. You let him play it off with a joke though. If he's joking, he's not drowning in self-pity, which is all you want.

"Mhm, I know you are," you say and nose at his cheek, kissing the spot on it without facial hair, "You may have claws, but you purr like a kitten when I have my hands on you."

His eyes roll when you say that. He leans down and begins to return some of your loving gestures.

"Don't go telling people that. It's only for you," he murmurs.

"Of course, of course," you say with the same subtle playfulness.

Words die out in favor of using your mouths for better things. The kisses are lazy, built more off of love and adoration rather than lust and passion. One of your arms loops over his shoulders to keep him close while your other rubs at his side. The tip of his nose brushes your earlobe as he lowers to kiss down your throat.

His lips meet your pulse point and the divots in your neck that make you shudder when touched. He's familiar with all your secret spots by now. He plays you better than any instrument. His breath fans over your skin as his teeth scrape against the same flesh. His hands work below, squeezing your waist, fingertips leaving little bumps in their wake.

The hand of yours that had been on his side drifts further down and wiggles its way between your two bodies. Your digits stroke his pelvis above the area his cock would soon begin to harden.

A groan reverberates through his chest as his shaft rises to attention. From this angle, the pads of your fingers can reach the tip. You rub on it with light pressure, up and down. That gets him to repeat the groan, only this time the undertone of need is more prominent.

His lips latch onto your neck to work a little mark onto your skin while he pushes the waistband of his sweatpants down his thighs. You were only wearing a cropped t-shirt and panties, already easily accessible.

He nudges your thighs apart further and grinds his bulge over your mound. The heat from both your aching centers grows hotter with the friction. Arching your back off the bed, you whimper softly for further satisfaction. He presses you back down using his larger stature.

"Patience, sweetheart. Being gentle, remember?"

He only teases you with a few more grinds of his hips before his boxers vanish too and his heavy cock rests against the soft fabric of your panties. You feel the familiar thickness at first. Then his fingers swoop down and pull your panties to the side so he can slot the drippy tip against your folds. Precum smears against your slick, velvety skin.

Seconds later he splits you open. He bites his lip while you whine, his fat cock pushing further into your wanting hole. You squeeze around him. Your walls clamp and contract on his length. It doesn't push him out, merely sucks him further in. He chokes out a low moan from how tight you get.

So tight and so wet. Arousal oozes from you in no short supply. It didn't take much to get you going for Logan. A few touches alone had you leaking like a broken faucet. You whimper as he bottoms out, hips jerking as the head taps your cervix. He always gets so deep it's nearly unbearable. Even when he's going slow like he is now, he's all you can think of. He fills you up down there and occupies all the space in your head.

"Feel good, baby?" he asks.

You nod, unable to respond verbally as you adjust to the intrusion. 

He doesn't give you a prolonged period of time to adapt right now. Normally he would, but most other times, he'd be going much faster than he plans to at this moment. Typically, he'd let you get comfy with the stretch before drawing his hips back and then pumping them forward again. He'd slam in and out of you. It'd be loud with the sound of skin clapping combined with your moans and his growls. It'd be rough and quick. The bed would shake and bobble around with the force of him.

But tonight, none of that happens. He barely even pulls out to thrust. He stays nice and deep, grinding his hips rather than fucking himself in and out of you. You whine in sweet stretches of sound. He sighs and grunts against your neck. Neither of you sound like feral animals going into heat.

You loved when you fucked like that, but right now, both of you needed this. Each roll of his hips felt like a stroke of heaven brushing your insides. Your limbs curl around him tighter to keep him close. Your arms guard his neck while your legs dig into his hips. He's so lost in the feeling of you, he can't even tell where he ends and you begin.

"Tell me how it feels. Need to hear you. Wanna know I'm doing it how you need," he mumbles.

"Feels perfect," you whimper in return, "So fuckin' deep."

"Good. I only ever wanna make you feel good."

You nod, knowing it's the truth. "Anyone can hurt me, but only you know how to make me feel like this."

His eyes scrunch up at your words. He just feels lucky he has his face buried against your skin so you can't see. It had been just what he needed to hear. Boosting himself onto his knees a bit more to gain some leverage, he grips your hips and ruts against you with the slightest bit more force.

You whine at the soothing rhythm in which your bodies rock. The sense of satisfaction brought on from this took root in the deepest pit of your belly. You weren't gonna explode like you often did. Probably wouldn't scream or scratch up his back. But you could tell you were gonna cum hard.

Without saying it, he communicates he feels the same. His lack of usual dirty talk tells you everything you need to know. His cock stays nestled deep inside your pussy as he works you both to the edge. His face remains flush against your neck.

You cum first, and he follows right behind. You tighten up, toes curling and a high mewl echoing out of your throat. Your body shivers. He spills his release inside of you, his energy leaving with the sticky ropes of cum that fire.

He goes boneless on top of you, still cherishing the feeling of your skin on his. His breaths feel cool against your sweating skin.

"My baby," he sighs. His eyes flutter shut. He knows he has to pull out before he knocks out for a while, but he can do that in a second. He just needs a few more minutes of this.

You press a few kisses to the side of his head and rub his back. His hand slides between both your abdomen to touch the scars, reminding himself what he's capable of despite his current tenderness.

After a few moments, he pulls out and slumps to the side of you. You peck his lips and take the acquisition of space as a way to cool off. His eyes are drooping already. It feels good seeing him so relaxed. You kiss the space between his brows, then the bridge of his knows, and end on his lips.

"Sweet dreams," you whisper, wishing that would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay. At least for tonight.

[goldeunoias]

Favorite Student.

WARNINGS: YES THIS IS PROFESSOR AND STUDENT FUCKING IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT DON'T READ IT. both of yall are adults i think like 22 and 28 or something like that so it's not like the worst of the worst but yes. there are power dynamics blah blah, sunghoon is massive pervert, ITS ALL FICTION YALL

um includes....perverted sunghoon, eating out, teasing, pet names, sex in an office, fingering, it's me so ya know

Synopsis: A class you'd hated, but a professor you'd always admired...

A/N: DAISY BACKKKKK

SUNGHOON STANS ARE THE BESTTTTT at writing and giving me anons and feedback and comments and reblogs which is why I will always spoil them bc they treat me the best <333. next fic is a heeseung one sooo if you want more heeseung content make sure to give that one as much love too when it comes out!

_________________________________________

He was the meanest professor around, bar none.

But in your current predicament, he was the only professor left for the class you needed to take, unless you wanted to wait and thus delay your graduation by a whole semester.

That's how you found yourself standing outside his office, swinging back and forth on your heels, trying to get the courage to go in and ask him for help on the chapter that seemed like no one in your class was getting, you included.

"What are you doing standing outside my office?"

At the sound of his voice you jumped and turned around, heart racing in your ears as you tried to give him some eye contact; ultimately failing miserably.

"U-Um, I needed help with chapter 14 in the textbook and no one in my section really got it either so I figured I'd stop by-"

"Did you look at the lecture notes?"

"Y-yes sir."

"The supplemental videos?"

You nodded again.

Dr. Park sighed and moved past you to unlock his office door, letting the door swing shut past you as you walked in. The vibes of his room was austere to say the least and you couldn't tell if anyone had ever sat in the chair across from him given how spotless and un-creased it was.

Well, first time for everything.

"So what are you needing help with? Do you have any notes or something?"

"U-uh yes sir, give me a sec," you stuttered out as you fidgeted with your bag to pull out your laptop, showing him all that you had done.

He leaned on his side of the thick oak desk so he could get a closer look at what you had done, the closer proximity causing cologne you could only surmise to be expensive filling your nose. You fidgeted in your seat and moved some to lower your skirt as it rode up, trying to think of something to fill the awkward silence as he scrolled through what you had done.

Luckily, he beat you to it.

"Well, it's not the worst thing I've seen." He sighed, taking off his glasses and pointing to your screen. "You still aren't understanding the basic concepts of this chapter yet and it's reflecting in your notes. You see this summary outline you wrote here is-"

Your eyes absentmindedly drifted to his alabaster forearms that were shown from the rolled up sleeves of his button up, thick large hands scrolling on your keyboard. His jaw and nose were sharp too and from the closeness you could make out his dark lashes, usually hidden by the thick framed glasses he wore.....

You were jolted out of your thoughts when he snapped his fingers in front of your face, eyebrows knitted in annoyance at you wasting his time by daydreaming.

"If you're going to come to my office I would think you'd listen to what I have to say," Sunghoon said through a clucked tongue.

You looked down and immediately apologized profusely, feeling tears well in your eyes. You weren't the best with scolding you never had been, but to have someone who was already not in the best of moods have it become worse because of you only made you more sensitive.

He looked at you from across the desk, a grown girl with mannerisms like that of a meek fawn.

A prey.

You swallowed thickly as he stood up and leaned over the desk, strands of mahogany hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you.

"Hey hey, don't cry, we'll work through it together mmkay? You're a smart girl aren't you?"

It was a voice you'd never heard him use on anyone, and it made the hairs on your neck stand up and your legs squirm as he held your chin.

"I'm sorry it's just this is one of my final classes I need to graduate and everything is hard and I don't want to waste your time-"

"Aw, princess don't stress, don't stress," he cooed. The sweet and gentle tone of his voice was causing you to melt into his touch, wondering how someone who usually only spoke in stern curt sentences could produce such sounds.

You couldn't stop bouncing your legs and squirming in your seat as his fingertips stroked the underside of your chin softly, making soft shushes and coos at you to calm your nerves.

Fuck, he wanted to ruin you.

But he had to wait for you to make the move. He was in the precarious position and even though he could see in your gaze that you were begging for it, you were going to have to show him.

A little teasing should do the trick.

"Here, we have some time before the next test don't we? Start coming by my office everyday and we can work through this unit together so you won't have to worry alright" he offered up, sitting back down in his office chair with a soft smile on his face.

You sniffled and nodded at the premise before rushing out a plethora of "thank you"s to him, unable to stop the tingling on your chin from where he had touched you as he left........

_________________________________

"Here sweetheart move your chair over to my side of the desk so you can get a better look at my screen," he offered up, moving his chair over some to make some room.

"O-okay sure," you agreed, the name "sweetheart" ringing throughout your head. Had he always used that nickname for you? Or was he just using it as a coverup for forgetting your name? Whatever the reason, your mind was spinning in circles at the gentle way he said it.

“Cmon, you can come a little closer than that, I don’t bite ya know”, he hummed, pulling your chair closer to his. You nodded because you didn’t trust your voice and your mind couldn’t stop wandering to how large his hands looked as he pointed out errors in the extra assignments he’d given you, talking you softly through each one.

"Does that make sense?" he inquired gently, placing his head on your thigh and squeezing it. The contact made you jolt in your skin and you gulped before profusely nodding, truly able to grasp just how large his hands were as they sat on your plush thigh.

"Good girl, see you had no reason to be so worried, your work is been improving exponentially".

"T-thank you sir. I have to go to my next class now...." you trailed off awkwardly, fidgeting in your seat.

He smiled and stood up, waiting for you to do the same before escorting you to his door.

"Of course. Same time tomorrow?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, scurrying out of his office. You made a b-line to the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face, wondering if there was anything that gave away just how flustered you truly were in his proximity.

How can someone be so cute? Sunghoon hummed to himself as he sat at his desk, fiddling with his pen. His own hand still buzzed with excitement at how soft and warm your thigh was, and his mind couldn't help but trail further down a rabbit hole.

For the next month it seemed Sunghoon had only gotten friendlier and friendlier: you found out that he had a dog which he adored and would bring to the office if he was allowed to, that he had a younger sister, used to compete in sports (which you could attribute to his frame), and really liked fashion.

All the while, Sungoon used every opportunity to get you used to his touch; the stroking of your ear during one session, the soft touch of your shoulder the next. Every time you'd jolt before absentmindedly melting into it, and before you knew it you find yourself craving his touch.

You didn't dare your friends or anyone around you of your extra tutoring sessions, or that his hands were somehow find themself on yours. Surely you should be disgusted at yourself instead of electrified by the touches he leaves on you right?

But those thoughts would always disappear every time you walked into his office.

"So sorry I'm late!" you rushed out as you stepped into his office, panting from having sprinted up the stairs to get here.

Sunghoon looked up from the papers at his desk and smiled, flickering his head to come sit down.

"It's okay sweetheart don't worry," he hummed, trying to pull his eyes away from the sheen the shone on your neck.

"I've been so frazzled lately I hope you're not too mad at me being late," you rushed out, practically stumbling over to sit down in your chair.

He hummed and stared at your plush thighs that clung to the leather of the chair and watched as you shifted to prevent them sticking, getting flustered when you saw he was watching you.

"Sorry, I'm a bit sticky it's a bit warm outside, s-should I just stand instead?" you offered up quickly, standing up and fixing your sundress.

"Why don't you sit on my desk instead then? Here let me move these papers out of you way-"

"W-won't I get the desk dirty since I'm all sweaty" you interjected, heart racing as he cleared his desk off for you, making space so you'd have no choice but to sit right in front of his chair.

"Don't worry about it, now be a good girl and come sit," he cooed, giving you eyes that almost dared you to disobey him. Quickly you went over and sat on his desk, swallowing thickly when Sunghoon began massaging your calves as he removed your shoes.

"Poor baby rushed over to our tutoring session, your legs must be exhausted and aching," he soothed, tender hands working into the soft flesh of your skin.

"Only s-slightly, it's fine I"m used to it," you excused, squirming as Sunghoon leaned closer to your skin. "Is this something a professor should be um...doing, I mean I know we've gotten close b-but.." you trailed off, yelping when Sunghoon dragged his lips against your knee.

"Then tell me to stop kitten," he taunted, kissing the inner of your thighs as he slid off your other shoe, looking up at you through framed lenses.

"You're not stupid baby, your test grades prove that well enough. Surely you kept coming to our lessons hoping it'd end up like this," he continued, hoisting your legs over his shoulders as he pulled you closer against his face.

"I...I don't know," was all you could muster out, toes curling as he softly kissed your inner thighs. Sunghoon chuckled under his breath and stood up, pushing you down onto his desk as he took of his glasses.

The air was knocked out of you for a second as you lay splayed on the desk, the cool hardwood being a stark contrast to your sticky skin.

“It’s okay baby,” he leaned in, licking the sweat from your neck. “It’s okay to say you like doing perverted things with me. Go on, tell your professor how much you like it”, he cooed, rubbing your puffy clit with his thumb.

You whined as felt something tightening in your tummy, mustering up the courage to speak.

“I-I like it”, you choked out, your toes curling in your tube socks as you started to feel how thick his fingers really were.

“Awww, give me more than that yeah? Tell me exactly what you like.” He couldn’t help himself. He wanted you to profess all types of profanities through hazy eyes and shaky legs, for you to beg to be ruined and defiled by him.

“I like..doing perverted things with you.” You felt your face burn as you stumbled your way through the sentence, rutting your hips into a feeling that only got tighter.

“Aw you do? Well in that case let me teach my princess all the perverted things we can do together..." he trailed off, squeezing the side of your thighs.

"Good girl~, such a good girl~" Sunghoon cooed, lifting up the hem of your sundress. "Cute panties," he drawled as his index finger slid down the slit, pressing against the sticky wet patch. "Mind if I keep them?"

You couldn't help but buck your hips into the feeling as you nodded without a second thought, your nails digging into the gloss furnish of his desk.

"Sweetheart you shouldn't agree to everything I say," he spoke, cupping your heat in his hand and massaging it. You gripped onto his shoulders instead and whimpered into his chest as you felt trickles of wetness soak your cotton underwear, meak "I'm sorry"s leaving you.

"It's okay, it's okay, don't apologize. It's just," he moved the hair covering your ear with his mouth before kissing against it, letting out deep groans as he rutted himself against you.

"there are some bad people out there, waiting to take advantage of pretty young girls like you. Are you going to spread your legs for everyone?"

"No, it's j-just because it's...you," you whimpered against his chest.

Sunghoon sucked air through his teeth as his self control unraveled at the seams.

"Because it's me?" he inquired, kneeling down so he was eye-level with your soaked core, messing with the hem of your panties.

"Wait Ihaven'tshoweredso-" your legs shook around his head as his tongue pressed against the soaked wet patch of your underwear, groaning at the taste that trickled onto his tongue.

"Is that why you taste and smell so sweet princess?" He groaned, pulling your underwear down without a second thought to expose yourself barren to him, his cock twitching in his pants at how sticky you already were.

"Here hold my hand sweetheart, squeeze it as hard as you like," he cooed as he offered up his free hand to you. You obliged immediately and squeezed his digits as his other free hand rubbed softly against your swollen clit, leaving light kisses on the puffy bud.

You let out meek "I'm sorry"s as your nails dug into the alabaster skin of his hand, struggling to keep yourself still as you felt the warmth of his lips wrap around your clit before sucking softly.

"It's okay princess, just sink into the feeling, I'm going to make you feel so so good," he groaned between your legs. You nodded and felt your eyes flutter into the back your head as you felt every ridge of his tongue against your entrance, saliva mixing with arousal as he lapped up everything you gave him.

The pleasure only increased as he wantonly hummed around your bud, Sunghoon drunk off of how sweet and syrupy you tasted on his tongue.

Sunghoon was doing his best to not just pin you to the desk and fuck the daylights of you, not understanding how someone could be so intoxicating. Every thing from your little gasps of air to the whimpers you were trying to hide in your throat were making him dizzy, desperate even.

"Your hole is twitching every time I suck your clit princess," Sunghoon remarked as he came up for air, licking his lips clean. "It must want something in it huh?" he drawled, sliding two thick digits into you. Your back arched off the desk as you felt the tight stretch between your legs, your hands going to squeeze his wrist you whimpered.

"Oh no no baby, don't try to move away from it. Take it like a good girl, like my favorite student would," Sunghoon praised as he scissored his fingers inside of you, chuckling at how droplets of arousal leaked out.

Hearing him say you're his favorite student made your heart thrum in excitement, your thighs tensing up when the pads of his fingers pressed down against the spongy part of your walls.

"Pull your sundress down and play with your chest for me princess," Sunghoon ordered gently as he moved to the skin of your neck, infatuated with how he could feel your heart beating through his kisses. "Do it like how you do it when you're in your bed all alone, fingers between your legs..." he whispered against your ear, unable to hide his grin.

Your body felt unbearably hot as you whimpered and complied, pulling down the straps of your sundress and moving your bra. Your legs inexplicably shook as you tugged the pert buds, biting down on your lip as Sunghoon sped up the pace of his fingers.

Sunghoon made a mental note of your movements so he could replicate them next time, his mouth getting hungry as his mouth encircled a free nipple.

You spasmed slightly at his movements as you felt his coarse tongue suck and lick around the sensitive skin, making a point to hold eye contact with you any time your stare met his. Coupled with the gushing sounds he heard between your legs only got more turned on, leaving deep marks on your chest he was sure would last for days.

He couldn't help it, he was getting impatient, desperate to have you whimpering out his name and begging for him to ruin you in this godforsaken sundress.

"Fuck~ you're gonna get me in so much fucking trouble," Sunghoon groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his fingers. "I'm sorry baby but I can't let you come from just some fingering now can I?" he teased.

The eyes you gave him almost broke him down right there as he pulled out his digits and sucked them clean, unbuckling his belt with the other. On any other occasion he'd love to have you on your knees trying to fit him in your soft mouth, but his patience for that was long gone.

Your eyes enlarged as you watched his member spring free and press against his lower abdomen, Sunghoon hissing through his teeth as he stroked the reddened tip.

"Don't worry princess, we're gonna make it fit okay? Even if you are this tight," he reassured teasingly, kissing your temple as he pinned both your hands in one of his.

"Y-you don't need a condom" you choked out.

Sunghoon raised brows and chuckled at the fact such a statement could come from such a timid mouth of yours, ripping it with his teeth and putting it on regardless.

"Mmm of course I do sweetheart," he cooed, rubbing his length between your folds. Even through the condom you could feel how warm and heavy his member felt between your legs, your mind racing at the fact that you were going to have sex with your professor.

"Besides, if I came inside would you be able to keep my load inside you like a good girl? We can't have a mess in my office now can we?" he drawled in your ear, pushing his thick tip past your walls. You already felt a stretch that was incomparable to his fingers and started struggling against his grip, Sunghoon only laughing at you and tightening his hold even more.

"Shhhh don't run princess, don't run, this is how it feels to be fucked by a real man yeah? No college guy could find my baby's special spot like I could," he soothed, finding it so cute how you sucked on your bottom lip to cope with the stretch.

You raised your head slightly to discover that he was only halfway in, despite how full your lower belly felt. When Sunghoon saw your widened eyes he could only pout at you, finding you absolutely adorable.

And adorable things deserved to be ruined.

"Here princess, kiss me yeah?"

Shakily you reached up some and connected your lips with his, jolting against his mouth as Sunghoon had taken the opportunity to push himself to the hilt.

"P-professor" was all you could whine out as you felt your mind go dazy, Sunghoon using the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.

"You're doing so good, taking all of me princess, such a good girl," Sunghoon praised softly in between kisses. He knew once he started moving his hips you'd be a goner, already evident by how dazy your eyes looked when he stared into them.

You felt his tip push against the entrance of your cervix and you couldn't help but let out a sharp gasp at the feeling, biting down on Sunghoon's shoulder to cope with the heavy sensation in your tummy.

"Hello? Mr. Park are you in your office?"

Your eyes widened and you went to move to hide, recognizing the voice as your fellow classmate. Sunghoon only laughed at your attempts and pinned your wrists, giving you a "shh" motion as he continued pressing his hips against yours.

"Yeah, I'm here. However if my door is closed that means office hours are also closed correct?" he tsked, sucking a breath between his teeth as you clenched down around him.

Despite his seemingly calm composure you had your mouth squeezed shut feeling a tight knot start to form.

Your legs shook as you tried tapping his wrist with your bound hands, Sunghoon cooing at you softly and kissing your cheek.

"I know you're close baby, I know I know, just hold out for a bit longer mmkay? I'll take care of you, I will."

You could only nod as your face scrunched up from holding back your moans, desperately wondering why this student was so keen on getting into the office of one of the most stubborn people alive.

"I know, but there's this problem I really-"

"Rules are rules" he interjected, taking out his point on you by an extra forceful snap of his hips. Yours nails digged into your own skin as you tried to follow your professors wishes and hold out just a bit longer for him, softly whispering his name to garner his attention.

“Just a bit longer,” he shushed warmly, kissing your temple as he listened to the footsteps outside the door. Sure enough there was a sigh, followed by the sound of sneakers against the tile floor and the student walked away, Sunghoon relinquishing his grip on you and slowly speeding up his hips.

“P-Professor my tummy," was all you could manage out, squirming as you felt the knot get tighter.

"Mmm, you feel the pressure building right here?" Sunghoon couldn't help but tease, firmly pushing down on your lower belly. Your nails left red marks down his back and chest as you gasped at the feeling, mind slowly entering a point of incoherence.

You hazily nodded and felt your toes curl as Sunghoon peppered your neck with open mouth kisses, unable to stop himself from marking you.

"I'm close too princess, hold on just a bit longer for me and we can come together yeah? C'mon, I know you can," Sunghoon purred as his hips only sped up faster, raising your lower back slightly make sure he hit your spot every single time.

You could only hold your breath and scrunch your face as you tried warding off the feeling that was only getting stronger. Sunghoon's own resolve had withered away as he bit down on his bottom lip to suppress the groan that would be heard by the whole hallway, sweat on his entire body as you squeezed down on him like a vice.

"Fuck~ princess, go ahead and let loose for me."

You felt your mind go blank as the knot snapped tighter than you were anticipating, having to suppress your moans by burying yourself into Sunghoon's neck as liquid gushed from between your legs and your walls pulsed around sporadically.

Sunghoon's came shortly thereafter by burying his face in your own neck, his breathing ragged and uneven as he lay shaking on top of you.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you and your mind started swimming at what you'd just done and the mess you'd just made, knowing that if your ancestors were ever to watch you they'd hang their heads in shame.

Yet, that didn't stop you from wanting to do it again.

"Professor," you began, refusing to make eye contact with him after what you'd just done.

"Mmmm yes sweetheart?" Sunghoon cooed as he slowly pulled out, his collarbones and forehead glistening with sweat as he hid the evidence.

"Next time, I-I wanna do it...at your place," you offered up. This was a dangerous and well, a fireable request, you both knew that. However, that didn't stop Sunghoon from bending down to kiss your collarbones and chin, beaming it with happiness.

"I think I'd quite like that arrangement princess."

[shaisuki]

𝗔 𝗚𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗖𝗔𝗧 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘

ft. bully! gojo satoru and geto suguru

content warnings bullying, university au, heavy bullying, degradation, humiliation, threats, blackmails, she/her pronouns, sabotage, bribes, blow jobs, cunnilingus, name calling (slut, whore, being called pig related names), noncon, dubcon, dacryphilia, penetrative sex, implied spanking, anal sex, double penetration, nonconsensual recording, dead dove do not eat.

notes it's been long since i've paid attention on this one and for @bimbosandbubbles, vanny. thank you for inspiring me to finish this one. semi part 2 here. part 3.

SERIES MASTERLIST

synopsis evading your bullies isn't a good idea so they take you to learn your lesson.

at the start of your uni days, you expected life would open a new path for you. meeting new people from different cities or in the international, new experiences and a way for you to start a new life with a degree after college but you shouldn't have planned anything for yourself as life had different plans for you. to mock you and spat at your face for being naive.

stuck in the endless game of cat and mouse with the university's golden duo.

his bright blue eyes peering behind his dark glasses while he watch the busybodies of students walks through the busy hallways of the university. searching for a certain someone that has been the sole enjoyment of his for the last few months. the only one who have lasted them for so long.

spreading his long arms at the back of the bench. legs spread in an inviting manner as he leans back, head thrown back. looking at the person sitting besides him.

“suguru, are you sure she'll show up?” gojo whines, asking the dark-haired male with the same footing as his in the university. looks and popularity-wise.

taking a puff from his cigarette, geto turns his eyes to him before looking at the students coming out for their next classes. blowing out the smoke before replying to him. his purple eyes glints.

“patience, satoru. she will show up.” anticipating the return of their favorite plaything. you could such be a tease at time like this.

it was time. your eyes rapidly searching for them. hoping to avoid the duo that everybody have singing their names. you don't want to deal another humiliation nor degrading remarks coming from them. you prayed. prayed and prayed, hoping someone will hear your pleas. clutching the straps of your bag tighter as you step outside of your class.

you began to made your way to your next class. you were glad many students were still present and crowding the hallways but you could never be so sure. passing the crowd with an apology to your lips as you occasionally bump into them but you keep your guard up, avoiding to look in the courtyard. you keep your sight straight ahead but you could feel your eyes tear up when a sudden shove from a busy student hit you. the collision making you look in the direction where the duo was waiting for you.

even at the distance, you can see geto's eyes fixated on you. a smirk curls in his lips. shooting you a playful smile at your direction.

your prayer wasn't heard that day.

scrambling into your feet and pretends you didn't see him. making yourself blend in the crowd and disappeared into the place where you only know. your heart beating a mile per minute, running away from them.

“there she is, satoru.” geto called out to his friend. making gojo straighten himself up and looks where geto is looking at. you're running away from them. how sad. how stupid.

thinking you could easily escape them and blending in the crowd. clever girl. they thought but they couldn't miss you. like predators marking their prey to be devoured. they know you more than you know yourself. exchanging looks and geto smirks while gojo chuckles. fuck, you interest them more.

two cats letting the mouse escape and corner it again before they can fully escape in their grasp.

looking around, you made sure there's no one following you. no signs of the white hair and dark long hair best friends lurking around. taking the more quiet place that students use as shortcut when in a rush.

you just wanted a peaceful college life. not being a playtoy for the duo who passed you around like you were some cheap whore. you want to ask someone to help you but how could they help you. some attempts were made and the good souls who believes in you where blacklisted from the university for some unknown reasons.

you didn't know how much power gojo held and the words coming from geto's mouth enticing people who hang from his every word and realizing it only at the end.

gojo satoru is the only son and the heir of a multi-million company. who made a name for himself in the campus. the pretty boy who have different arm candies hanging in his arms weekly.

geto suguru who you doesn't know much but made himself popular along with gojo in the campus. charming he is and had a fan club made for him and to his best friend. they're the best if people were asked about them.

and you. you were just nothing but a toy to them. a past time when they're bored and you're left like nothing when they're done with you.

they won't follow you, do they? looking behind you to check and you almost let out a breath of relief. you barely escaped geto earlier. your nerves still working you up.

“i didn't take you the type to ditch us, (y/n).”

you almost jump, making you stop in your tracks as you look up in front of you. hand in his pockets while waving the phone in his other hand. a grin in his face while stepping closer to you.

with every step he take, you took backwards. not wanting to face him or geto. you don't want anything from them. tentatively taking your steps backwards. you just could blend again with the crowd. your mind formulating a thousand escape plans. you only look at him in contempt. a last chance of bravery against him.

spinning your heel and you made a run for a life. you could taste the escape in your lips. away from him. away from the people who made your life hell.

flashes of light blinded you for a second before realizing you were stopped. the tight grip in your arm, the smell of cigarette clinging into his shirt. it almost made you gag.

“nice one, suguru. (n/n) thinks she can escape us.”

there was a stinging sensation behind your eyes. the hope you're once clinging ripping into shreds. falling once again to the madness this two seeks for the pleasure of their own entertainment.

geto pulls you closer to his. wrapping his arm in your shoulder. your back against his chest while his hand went to cup your jaw. raising your head to meet his smile. you sure could punch him if you have the guts but looking at his face, you couldn't deny that geto suguru is attractive. maybe it's the lightning or how his hair is elaborately tied in a bun where the other locks of his hair is loose underneath and the single strand of his hair falling down. acting like bangs in his face. the warm light of the sun illuminating his face like halo. it's almost— godly.

you felt stupid for admiring one of the people in your life who made it hell. it's a realization how small you felt, how powerless you are with this two and they remind you of it every single time of your life.

your lips is curled up in a frown and gojo take notice of it. the latter grinning and walking forward where his friend got you trapped.

grasping your chin in his slender fingers, blue eyes inspecting your face behind his dark glasses. leaning closer to brush his lips to yours and the immediate reaction earns a laugh of amusement to his. tucking back your lips and moving your head to the side. blinking back the tears and he'd be lying if he didn't like the tears on you.

you weren't special. you're nothing worthy of praise nor attention but you do give them a hell of a time. you didn't even look or close to the numerous bitches they had fucked. they were naturally submissive which they like and the worst is they got clingy which is incredibly annoying for them. skanky bitches like them think they can have a piece of them. thinking they're now hotshots for sleeping with them when they're just holes for them to fill and to leave.

you — you got a fight in you. they wouldn't tell you that aloud. they didn't need to shape a bitch for them. bitches are made for them and you, even a dozen times they break you, you're still standing up and perhaps they could keep you longer until you submit to them and throw you away like a trash. follow them like a lost puppy that is still coming back even kicked and worship them at their feet. they needed you to break.

your eyes betrayed you, no. it wasn't tears instead it was the impalpable glare you have given to someone and not just to someone. it was one of your bullies.

his shit eating grin turning into one of a coldest lines forming in his lips before turning into one of a condescending smile. an immediate silence taking over and geto didn't missed that despise being behind you. harshly yanking your arms he was holding and earning a whimper from you.

“ah, ah. what's that? acting brave now are we? who taught you that or perhaps we didn't teach you enough what happens to fat slut like you acting up? mmm?” he hums. closing his eyes as his lips crooks into a smile. his bangs covering one side of his eye and the other opens or both. you couldn't tell when his bangs is covering the other.

“suguru, don't be like that. we've been just too lenient at her and now — acting too brash. we don't want this for our pet suguru, do we?” gojo tuts. tapping his fingers to your cheek, eyes locking to geto. the eye contact generating the sickest of punishments they can sentence you to.

“please — i-i need to go....” your voice stumbling at the words and your false courage starting to crumble. you couldn't think how stupid you were for glaring at gojo. he deserves it and it's not enough. you thought. bitter memories starting to surface while you think of all the humiliations you had to endure by his hands and if you were getting punished which was already placed into you, you should have glared at his friend too.

gojo tuts.“nuh uh, where do you think you're going? this is what you get for avoiding us. you need to learn your place.” the snow white haired boy jeers at you.

suguru only smirks, grabbing your arm to drag you from wherever they wished to punish you. gojo following suit whilst humming a tone from a random song.

you ended up in a vacant classroom in where the area is currently renovated and staff and students alike are forbidden to enter minus the construction workers who were taking a lunch break. giving the duo the time to punish you in their own ways. you can feel the bile rising in your throat and the familiar sparks of tears stinging behind your eyelids. your heart quickening its beats from the nervousness and the shame you have to face on or it will never end. it never ends.

“strip.” the black haired male ordered you. seated in one of the chairs in the vacant room. his friend is also comfortably seated too. a huge smirk plastered on his face, resting his head in his palm while those blues in his eyes glints in anticipation.

“n-no.” you stammer out. your hands trembling. clenched in fists in your back.

geto fakes a frown. twirling his phone in his hand while he types the password in his phone.

“no? such a shame if the whole uni would see what kind of a slut you are. you look good in this one, pretty i might say. taking satoru's cock so well. hm?” tapping the phone in his fingers while showing you a clip of a video they had previously filmed from the past sessions. both had a copy in their own phones. they may never say it but it's a video they treasured whenever they misses you. “poor mommy and daddy. they will know how much of a slut a daughter they had raised.”

“you can't do that. you have no right.” there's a sound similar to a whisper in your voice. a cruel smirk etched in his face, looking at your helpless state. they know the power they hold. what would you do report? ask the others? too bad, they'll never believe you as long they're around. people worship them. what's the power of a peasant against them? nothing.

“he can, (y/n)-chan. just one tap away and the whole world will see you for who you really are. a slut who's desperate of attention. now, follow suguru's order or we'll post it.” satoru warns. playing with the arms of his dark glasses. the action making you see a peek of what's under them.

and just like that, like a puppet you obey them. your hands trembling along with your vision blurring from the tears that started to spill from your eyes. forced to follow what they ordered to you. you couldn't risk to be find out. knowing full well that you would just be shamed even it's not your fault. who would believe you after all? you were an unfortunate being that got thrown in a tiger's den. you think of your parents — who worked so hard for your education. if hardwork and determination would reward you along with their sacrifices. you will be the first one to graduate in your family. you just have to endure it. give in to their demands and maybe — just maybe. it will end faster and you could wallow in shame on your own.

retracting your arms and you unhooked your bag slinging in your back. placing it on the nearest table. there's a soft thud along with the taps of their shoes in the wooden floor. impatiently waiting for you to completely strip of your garments.

your head hung know as you hesitate to reach out for the lower buttons of your blouse. your fingers wobbles as the buttons enter the holes of your blouse. one by one. the buttons coming undone and you blinked back the tears again but no matter how many times you blinked the tears came running down your cheeks.

you couldn't run. not when the fate of your education and dignity are stored in their phones — or maybe. you'll let them and disappear forever — away from their hungry gazes and hands that turns filth whatever they touches.

a pair of blue and purple dances at your snivelling form. that look suits you better than being a stubborn bitch you are. all bark and no bite. who's the the loser now?

it's getting quite annoying how you slowly take your clothes off and the modesty of it. a red long sleeved blouse and underneath it a black tank top paired with a long black denim skirt that preserves and gives you the impression of being a modest and goody two shoes person. boring. they make sure to put in mind what clothes you are allowed to wear for immediate contact.

satoru sighs but it's closer to belching. growing impatient as he taps his shoes in the floor before standing up and walks towards you.

he holds the tops of your shirt before tearing it up. the last buttons flying away as they got ripped. you panicked and grasping his hands to stop it but he's stronger than you. easily pulling your arms away as he yank your shirt. the action resulting in your skin burning and welts starting to form where the cloth had touched your skin.

“no! no — please! i—i'll do anything you want but not this!” you cried, hands squirming to take it away from his tight grasp. “tsk. too late.” gojo taunts. turning his head to look at geto who was enjoying the view. “suguru~, lend a hand will you? little mousy-chan is real stubborn today” asking his friend nonchalantly.

geto shakes his head, cupping your jaw harshly that it started to hurt and leaves bruises to the skin. forcing you to raise your head to look at him. “this wouldn't happen if you were obedient. we could have shown you mercy and instead what did you do? running away from us like a squealing pig. accept your punishment.” his pupils darkening and you watch it through your glossy eyes.

“a bad, bad — bad girl, you are. who taught you this? ahh, maybe it's mommy or daddy. run away from the big bad wolf eh. it's that what they taught you. they're wrong. you're a swine who lures men at your undesirable self.” he continues to sneer at you.

you didn't know what's hurting at this point. your body or your soul. you didn't know. you couldn't even shield yourself from the spite of their hatred and disgust for you. if you were really this ugly and undesirable for them. why would they bother for it. you know it wouldn't be difficult for them to get their dick wet. girls swoon and was more than willing to give their body for them and if they want another to give the same treatment you receive, they can. a much more appealing person for their taste. a far cry from what you are.

he lets go of your jaw, the sound of your tank top being ripped from the back resonating in the room. geto grabs your head, your face pressing on his chest while he holds you to avoid interrupting his friend who was having the time of his life tearing your clothes off. your bra following suit. your denim skirt being tugged away and that made you cry even more, leaving you only in your panties.

gojo continues his torment at you. slapping and pinching the muffin top in your waistline. chuckling while his fingers digs marks into the skin. amused from the fat of your body jiggling and swaying with the assault it was taking.

his eyes twinkling in pure glee and it returns to normal meeting geto's gaze at him. looks are exchanged, a quiet agreement that they both fully understand what it meant coming for you.

geto places his hands into your shoulders before pushing it down, forcing you to kneel with no consideration for the bruises that will later bloom. gojo watches in pure amusement while his friend manipulates you into his will. this is what suguru is. his true colors in full display.

geto is not the person you want to be messed up with. striking in the place where you don't expect it. nothing can hinder suguru when getting what he desires and a shame for those fuckers who tried to help you. what they did get? blacklisted from the university with a anomaly he conjured up.

flickers of sunlight and dust mingles in the room. gojo shakes his head watching as his friend switched his charismatic demeanor into one of a sadistic. “suguru, don't get too hasty. i thought you were the cool one here.” he said nonchalantly, eyes hungry with desire and need from raking through your half naked figure. kicking your torn clothes strewn in the floor.

“i don't tolerate defiant bitches who can't follow rules and begs for mercy from their mistake.” his voice cool with hint of malice behind them. “i should put you in your place, (n/n). ” he smirks, relishing on how hope simply vanishes into your eyes.

“now don't be like that to me, (y/n). please me and maybe i'll change my mind.” his eyes narrows down at you while you're in the verge of tears. your lips are wobbling. faced with suguru's crotch and you regret looking in his eyes. a silent plea for him to change his mind. a condescending smile only and you received your answer.

you blink back the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes while you reach for his belt loops. shaky hands unbuckled his belt and you were shook that you were fumbling and when geto took a breath, you quickly managed to unhook the loops and pulling the zipper of his pants down.

you never wanted to make it worse than it was when geto would show his impatience towards you and in your situation you can only obey.

he's huge. always was. the outline of his cock is pressed against his boxers. “i presume you won't be needing my help to get it out, princess.” his tone velvet smooth with a hint of impatience dripping in it. you accepted your fate when you tug his boxers down. his cock springing free and it slaps to his abdomen. “suck.” he orders you with no hesitation and you think you could cry at this moment and then you remembered how cruel the two are when disobeyed especially the male above.

you take a experimental lick in the tip of his cock before enveloping it with your tongue. you feel him shiver. a grunt can be heard next as you swallow half of his cock. bobbing your head in a slow motion while you stroke the other half of his cock.

suguru stare at the scene below him. his cute piggy taking his cock in your mouth. he places his hand behind your head. forcing you to look at him and it makes his cock throb more at your mouth. your round cheeks in display and your lips wrapped around his cock and that teary gaze of yours meeting his own. “take more of this cock, princess.” tapping your cheek and you obediently followed. he let out a curse as you take him deeper. closing his eyes for a brief moment and he returned to watch you take more of him. “you can only follow an order if you're being threatened. might do more of this—shit—haaah.” grunting as you fondle his balls.

satoru watch in pure amusement as you take his friend's cock. slobbering all over it as you suck him deeper and he's a little jealous. not used in his spotlight being taken by someone and suguru was no exception and your attention should be also on him. his blue eyes peering through his glasses. he watch as your round face struggled to swallow more of his friend's girthy cock. drool seeping from the corner of your mouth as you bob your head back and forth.

gojo shudders at the blood rushing in his cock. he began to palm his cock through his pants. groaning and the little puffs of breath he was taking. unable to contain his excitement he pulled out his cock. stroking his veiny cock in a slow torturous manner as his cum dribbles down from the tip of his cock.

“suguruuu~” geto winces at the call of his name. eyes half-glaring at his friend for interrupting the haze he was in of your mouth sucking him. “you're not the only one allowed to fuck (y/n)-chan's mouth. sooo let me have her mouth.” gojo smiles at him and suguru scowls for a moment before giving your mouth to suck satoru's cock.

gojo grins. “f-fuck... suck me more...” the white haired boy stutters. burrowing his dick deeper in your mouth making you gag but he didn't care. feels too good to notice that you're almost choking on his cock as tears appeared in the corner of your eyes. your other hand still occupied jerking suguru's length.

the duo loves nothing more than this. their cute, little toy being used by them. you spent the last minutes alternating between their cocks, both covered by your spit. you were currently sucking him off and suguru groans at his impending orgasm and satoru isn't doing good either but before their orgasm bursts. they made you stop.

“open wide baby.” gojo pants. both of them pumping their cocks in unison before shooting their load in your mouth. spurts of their cum dropping in your tongue and some landing in your face. “what do we say after giving you our cum?” his face remaining passive as he reminds you and if you answer it wrong, this will last longer.

“t-thank you.” you shyly mutters. voice low and sounding so obedient. that seems to satisfy suguru as he replied with a hum. holding your jaw between his thumb and index finger. swiping the sticky cum glazed in your face with his thumb, he smeared it in your face and without further adieu you swiped the cum in your lips with your tongue. the bitter taste of their cum coating your taste buds and it would linger for days to come.

“you could be such a good girl, you know that, sweets.” satoru commented. admiring your face covered in cum. “even you could be such a bitch sometimes and you choose today to act up and we know what happens when you break a rule, you get punished.” squishing your round cheeks before staring at you dead in the eye with his blue eyes glimmering more than ever. “and punishment starts now.”

breathing is not the same as it was anymore. you sat in suguru's lap uncomfortably. your ass stinging, covered with handprints as it starts to form welts. air became lacking as suguru continues to kiss you.

“mmm...” the small sounds is all you can manage while suguru shoves his tongue deep inside. it's been minutes and this punishment gets worst as the clock ticks.

suguru can be gentle as he is rough. the dried tears sticking in your cheeks are the evidence of it and your much demure attitude after a spanking does the trick of it so he's rewarding you of kissing you until you're breathless. your soft lips perfectly melding in his and suguru enjoys every minute of it. you taste of the sea and something sweet or it just could be him. licking your tears before this. it was humiliating to you while he savors every minute for it.

geto smirks in the kiss when he hears gojo speak. “she's so fucking wet, suguru.” gojo laughs. watching as slick flows in your dripping hole. your thighs are spreaded by him and preventing you to close your legs away from his gaze. “all that spanking got you, hah. i barely touched you.” mocking you as he laughs. your body tensed and geto noticing the change in your body chuckles. “getting shy, are we? let satoru do what he wants and maybe we're going to be gentle to you this time.” it wasn't much of a request but an order. you simply nodded. “good girl.” suguru mutters before dipping again for a another kiss. holding you closer to him while his hand in your back gripping the rolls on it and the other hand in your breast. his finger brushing to your stiff buds.

satoru let suguru have his fun and so is he. what's in front of him is going to tastier and he can't wait to dig. parting your thighs wider, satoru first bestowed a chaste kiss to your doughy thighs. making sure they are given equally the amount of being worshipped by him. he won't say it aloud but your thighs are his favorite. smooching the expanse of your thighs and sometimes resting his cheek to your thigh just to feel that softness over it. he will get both of them to squish his cheeks or crush his head. he doesn't care.

a smack sound can be heard as satoru took his first lick to your fat pussy. humming in delight for diving back in. his tongue lapping in your sweet heat and more obscene noises grew from his desperate feats of licking your slit with his tongue. alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue to get more of that goodness.

your plush body jerks involuntarily. all the places with the extra bits jiggling at the sudden intrusion of his tongue. moaning in the kiss where suguru had you locked. “mmm...hah—mmm...” is the only sound you can produce as suguru licks your tongue and going back again to take your lips in his. drool covering both of your mouths. eyes half-lidded and you're drunk in this haze and you take a peek of satoru in between your legs. his white hair moving so gracefully as he slurps loudly the juices spilling in your cunt. his large hands holding firmly your thighs. sinking in the softness of it as your thighs gets bigger at being squish. the flesh spilling in his thick fingers.

satoru let goes on your clit with a loud pop before you can cum. your whines muffled by suguru's lips on your own and satoru chuckles. wiping the juices covering his mouth. “i got on her pussy first, suguru.” satoru reminded him and the man in front of you smiles. “no need to remind me, satoru. i'll take her ass.” he nonchalantly commented and your widens. squirming in his lap to get off but suguru clutches your flabby arms in his hands. “don't be scared. it will feel good like your pussy does.” he convinces you but you don't want it. “who cares about that, it's part of the punishment.” suguru growls and that puts you in your place. accepting what they decided for you.

“hey, suguru. frightening our dear (y/n)-chan will get her holes tight. you might want to loosen her.” gojo commentated whilst rubbing your slit with his fingers.

geto tsk. visibly annoyed, a rare occurrence for gojo to see his friend like this. “satoru, punishment is punishment.” the purples in his eyes darkening and gojo shrugs. “whatever. i still get to fuck her fat pussy.” sticking out his tongue towards suguru.

it was painful to swallow the lump in your throat that never existed again and again. your hands are clammy while the duo began to position themselves to you. satoru slapping your ass before hooking his arms behind your knees and his hands holding the back of your thighs hoisting you up. wrapping your arms in his and the other in suguru.

the black haired beauty holds your ass. suguru spreading your ass cheeks and the tip of his cock prodding at your tight hole. “please, geto. not in there please. i—i'll do any—mmph” the sharp thrust of his cock interrupted your plea. making you cry at the burning sensation in your hole. clenching your fist in a tight manner. your eyes hot and warm tears came rolling down your cheeks from the pain like rivulets. “and what? you'll do anything. too late now, sweetheart.” suguru examines your face as it twist again in the thrust of satoru's cock in your cunt.

“fuck!” satoru curses out. chuckling at himself. “the only good thing in you is tight pussy of yours.” your velvety walls clenching around his cock. “are you crying?” satoru teases taking a mental note of your tears.

both of them adjusts their hold on you. beginning to move their hips in an upward motion to thrust their aching cock in your warm holes.

it burns. everything stings with every move. your muscles begging to rest as it tears from how they stretched your muscles and your limbs put in a uncomfortable manner. this is how your day supposed to go on. why you must be in this position. unwilling and unlucky to escape this kind of situation. you're always in trouble with this two and maybe if you weren't so fat for this two to mock and make fun of you wouldn't be here.

mistaking the tears in your eyes as being overstimulated which is true but you're troubled with the inner turmoil of yourself so you get lost and the two began to harshly pound their lengths deep inside you. groaning and throwing at curses.

satoru rests his forehead in your shoulder and behind his glasses, his eyes, the prettiest shade of blue seems to shine in astonishing sight of your pudgy belly. squished together and like dough being stacked together. jiggling at the impact of their thrusts in you and his sight lowers. his cock disappearing inside your pussy as it glistens and the wet squelch it was making, it was simply music to his ears. biting the junction of your neck. he stare at suguru who's smirking at the sensation of your tight hole gripping his cock. “she feels so good, suguru—ahh.. this pussy's trying to choke my cock.” satoru commented.

“you hear that, you feel so good.” suguru holds your jaw forcing you to look at him. “open your mouth, baby.” parting your lips at his order, suguru spits on your mouth. a glob of his spit hitting your tongue in which you didn't hesitate to swallow and suguru smiles. “good girl.” he praises.

hard muscles are a contrast to your soft body. sandwiched between their bodies while they keep their pace steady in bullying your holes with their cocks. a moan is ripped from your throat when satoru hits the spongy spot in your cunt. knowing what he had done, satoru grips your thighs firmly as he angles his cock inside. hitting that spot repeatedly until you can't stifle the sounds coming from you. involuntary moans come spilling from your mouth and gojo swells with pride that only him, well both of them. he and suguru could make you moan like that. how did he know? silly to ask that. they're the only ones who had fucked you since you started college and the first to take your virginity. they didn't even allow men to approach you.

suguru wanting you to make you feel good like satoru does have to speed up his thrusts usually than what he always do. it's not even a work up from him. his desire for your asshole to only know the shape of his cock and he's the only one who can fuck this ass of yours.

“'too much. too much.” you babbled. the pleasure and pain is getting overwhelming for you to take. instead in pitying you it earned a chuckle from the two. “since when did it became too much for you, huh? you're a slut. sluts don't go to tell that it's too much. all they can do is shut up and take it.” satoru taunts you.

gojo hisses when your cunt squeezes around him. the creamy white ring forming in the base of his cock as you came. “shit! she came suguru.” satoru said in amusement and even he's like that he's getting close too and so is suguru. they exchange looks briefly before putting their strength in reaching their end.

you can't speak. they've taken your ability to speak. you can only moan in silence as you feel another orgasm bubbling in your abdomen again. you're going to cum and it's going to be more intense than the last one. you feel them both. hot and throbbing. the veins in their cocks making ridges in your soft walls. taking and molding their very shape.

harsh thrusts are back to back being blown to you. the tips of their cocks hits deeply as they can before releasing their loads. both groaning as spurts after spurts of their cum are being loaded inside of you. never did you felt to be so full and warm until they've released their loads inside of you. hot and sticky.

it took a few more thrusts before the both of them had ridden their high. handsome as they are and wicked even after fucking their favorite plaything. removing your arms around their shoulder. you slowly descended on the floor. both of their cum escaping your holes. dripping and staining the cold hard floor where you sat. you ignore them and you know the drill after being fucked by them. it's time to leave and slowly, you began to gather your clothes. your blouse are useless. tattered and shredded and it won't cover you. you're lucky your denim skirt are still intact.

reaching out for your bag to get the spare clothing you packed for when it happens. you grabbed the wet wipes. patting where their release had stained you, mostly in your face. a stream of tears you didn't even notice falling from your eyes got you wondering why the floor below you is getting wet. the realization dawning into you and you can only cry silently. dressing yourself and trying to be more decent.

satoru and suguru busied themselves fixing their clothing. not leaving the sight of their toy cleaning their self. suguru crouches down to meet your position. “crying after what you've put yourself into.” he commented. “pathetic.” satoru mutters as he watch you beneath him. “try not to defy us again, okay? it would be much worst than this one.” there's a hint of softness in his voice and maybe you could convince yourself that he wasn't a jerk from the way he spoke but you know better. they had humiliated you until you hated yourself. degrading you like you were nothing a dirt and not a human being.

“i understand. i'm sorry.” you say. bowing your head in shame for being disobedient at them. for not following simple orders. “good.” his only response to you.

“can i please go now?”

suguru hums and with that, you slowly made your way outside. your bag tightly secured in your back with your ripped clothes, you left without saying a word again with tears streaming down your face.

when you disappeared from that door, the duo both left at the building. going on with their lives again as the golden boys of the university and you were left with nothing, not even a shred of your dignity.

satoru reviews the newly recorded of you being impaled by their cocks. feeling hard again from the way your pussy wrapped around him along with your soft body pressed against him. “the best, satoru.” suguru commented after seeing what his friend is watching in his phone. “send it to me.” whipping his phone in a second and quickly typing.

your phone buzzes. alerting you with a message. you were wiping your tears after you nearly trip. absentmindedly wandering in the campus and if it wasn't for you almost tumbling you wouldn't break out from your stupor. more tears rolled in your cheeks, dripping down in the screen of your phone after you've read the message.

suguru: see you later.

[helreginn]

"I'd be lying if I said I couldn't relate." More than anything, Hel could understand that sentiment. Solitude is a Hell of a leech to beings as long lived as they. It sinks in it's teeth and never really lets go - Even after it's had it's fill.

It takes careful hands, many hearts and much time to pry that vicious maw away.

His gaze was somewhat overwhelming. She tilted her head to the side as she wondered if he could see through to the soul of her. The way she looks at his face and watches the light inside him shimmer. Even his words don't go down easy. They skate around the sides of her throat, unwilling to slide. She felt they were undeserved. It wasn't something she ever thought twice about. They were hers. Her dead. It never even occurred to her to treat them unkindly.

Sure, at the beginning she had been frightened. Not.. of their nature but them as strangers. She had been a girl, terrified by circumstance already. Thrust into a traumatic situation and on instinct she.. comforted them. No one else was going to. Not her. Not them. She made her voice big but always gentle. Grew in kindness as she soothed in her denizens what grew thorns and bramble within her own self.

A subtle smile grew on her pallid lips as she heard that even he, even this man so alive and pages empty, felt comforted because of her. In a way that she could never shape into words, that knowledge somehow reassured her. Somehow made her feel like she was doing good. Not just in the moral sense but actual real good.

"Well, how else would you call me?" She grinned, taking her glass as he had filled it. How else indeed. They weren't yet so familiar as to have pet names. Her nick name was still just her name, as far as most were concerned. If not Hel or Helreginn, what could he have possibly called her?

Hel half smiled at the angel before her. "I.. would like to hear everything." she replied, quiet but honest. She was still at a distance. Still guarded and unsure. But that much she could be say openly. That much she could speak true. There was no part of him she didn't want to know. No part, no matter how dark or twisty, she wouldn't accept.

She kept her eyes on him but carefully tipped her glass forward to clink it against his, "To better stories than a broken bar." It also felt right. To moving past the guilt and the shame. She hadn't meant it as a well wish for a future with him but.. there it was anyway.

They would need a lot more stories to gather ones better than a broken bar. A lot more time and a lot more them.

She sipped at her drink with a smile.

Lucifer leaned back against the bar, listening intently, his eyes studying her as she spoke. Her words were soft, tentative, as though she wasn’t sure how much of herself she was willing to offer. It intrigued him. He understood the weight of that hesitation, the reluctance to share, especially when it came to pain—he’d done enough of that in his own life.

When she finished, there was a long, pregnant silence between them. It wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it felt... comforting. Perhaps more than he had realized he needed.

"Loneliness," Lucifer muttered, the word hanging heavy between them. "It's the closest companion I’ve ever known." He took another sip from his glass, though his gaze never left her. "For centuries, it was all I had. Even when surrounded by demons, souls, and all manner of beings in Hell, it’s still... there." His voice softened, and for a moment, it was as if he were speaking to himself, the weight of his own isolation coming through.

He looked at her carefully, eyes searching her face. "But you," he continued, "you’re different, Helreginn Furða Lokadóttir. You’ve made a life for yourself. You give purpose to the souls you guide, to the dead you care for." His lips curled in a wry smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes fully, but it was there, a brief flicker. "And for someone who’s as miserable as me... it’s something worth seeing. Worth being a part of."

There was a vulnerability in his tone that was rare for him, raw in its truth. He leaned forward, setting his glass down with a soft clink. "I think... maybe, I’ve been alone for so long, I forgot what it feels like to not be. You... you have a way of making that fact seem less permanent, less daunting."

He reached for the bottle, pouring another round for both of them, but he wasn’t as quick this time. Instead, he paused, eyes drifting over the bar before returning to her. "And as for your middle name... well, it’s enough that I know the name you go by. It’s a privilege, really." His voice was steady now, with a hint of teasing, but it was clear he meant it, even if he was trying to lighten the moment.

He met her gaze, searching for the same trust he had offered her. "Perhaps, in time, we can trade secrets. Maybe even our histories—though mine’s rather grim compared to your village girl tale." He smirked, eyes narrowing playfully. "But if you’re interested... I’ll share more of mine. It’s not much of a story, but it’s all I’ve got."

With a quiet chuckle, Lucifer raised his glass to her. "To... us." The words felt right, though he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps, like everything else with her, it would be a mystery that unraveled slowly.

[reiderwriter]

Hi, so I have a request, but please don't feel pressured to write it now.

I was wondering if you could please do a scene or scenario where Spencer shouts out in desperation and panic "where's my wife" after a close call with the team on a very dangerous case.

A/N: I put a bit of a twist on your request so I hope you still enjoy it! Thank you for requesting~♡

Warnings: minor injury to canon characters, explosion, temporary loss of hearing, sight, etc.

The force of the blow was so strong that when Spencer Reid finally came to, a few seconds after hitting the ground hard, he couldn't hear a thing. 

Whether it was adrenaline, or an injury, or pure shock, his senses were numb, and the only thought in his head as he started screaming was of you. 

“Wh-where,” he coughed, shaking his head to try and focus. “Where's my wife?” 

His voice was quiet and weak at first, but it didn't matter to him. After all, he couldn't hear the words at all. He just felt his lips form the words and knew the familiar vibrations in his throat meant the sound was escaping into the wind. 

You pushed through crowds with a scream as you tried to get through to your team. Spencer wasn't the only one close to the blast. 

Emily, JJ, Morgan, and Hotch were all in various states of disarray around you as you ran back from the car across the street. You'd run back to check some files, feeling something off, and the heat and loud boom behind you was the confirmation you'd been looking for that you were right. 

After his first few attempts, Reid still couldn't see you, much less hear you or touch you or press his arms around you and not let go. He struggled to his feet and began calling again. 

“Where's my wife? Where is… WHERE'S MY WIFE?” His voice broke, and he  coughed gasped through each word, but he didn't stop. 

He stumbled forward, looking to see you through the haze of dust that had erupted from the blast site. Morgan ran to his side just as he tripped, pulling an arm under his as they stumbled together away from the rubble. 

“Where is she? She was right here, I need-” he coughed, leaning more on Morgan than he was walking for himself as his ankles twisted under him. 

“Hey, hey kid, we're okay. We need to get away from the blast, okay? Away.” 

Spencer kept rambling, though, his ears ringing as he blinked away his confusion and the panic creeped in stronger. 

“My wife, where is she? Morgan, I have to find her, she could be hurt,” he demanded, his voice stronger now as he pushed out of Morgan's grip. 

Ambulances and police cars were beginning to pull up, half of them already having been on route when your team had pulled up. 

Spencer searched through the crowd, sorting through faces until he found the one he desperately needed to see. 

Emily and JJ had been thrown back towards the cars, but both seemed to have missed big shrapnel and other injuries. He watched them clutch each other and stumble behind the cars as they called into their phones, requesting backup. 

Hotch was similarly talking fast to surrounding officers, and though he looked fine, he clutched his knee in his hand. The already dark material of his pants was somehow darker, and shinier in places, and it was only a moment later that Spencer realized a large chunk of shrapnel was jutting out of his leg, just above the knee. 

Rossi had been the furthest from the blast, bar you, and it was him that Spencer saw next, dusting off his clothes as he moved quickly to assess the scene. 

Morgan was still worriedly trailing behind him as he tripped over his feet. 

“Where's my wife? Where's my wife?” 

He finally saw you then, as you dove into the dust and smoke to assist your team. He was just about to fall to his knees when you ran to him, holding him up under his arms as he wrapped himself around you. 

“Found you. I found you, you're okay?” He asked, hands gently cradling your cheeks as he asked, tears in his eyes. 

“I'm fine, Spencer. Are you-” 

He silenced you with his lips, mouth slanting down on yours as he pushed every fear, every emotion, every ounce of adrenaline into your body. He kissed you like you'd never been kissed before, with desperation and longing and relief. 

And when he pulled away, he collapsed into your arms. 

Luckily, Morgan had been only steps away and took some of his weight off you as you stood, gasping for air and reeling from the kiss. 

You were so dazed, you collapsed to the floor, your knees giving in beneath you, and both Spencer and Morgan came down with you. The three of you were weak and traumatized, and emotions were running high, which is why you tried not to be offended by Morgan's line of questioning. 

“How long have you two been married?” He asked, and you were suddenly taken further aback. 

“What?” 

“Reid was looking for his wife. He was shouting ‘where's my wife? I need to find her.’ He was desperate. He was pushing away from me, and then he saw you, and he relaxed.” Despite the blow of the explosion and the now whirl of shrill sirens surrounding them, Morgan laid every word out carefully, like you would blow just as easily given the chance. 

“I'm not… we're not…Morgan, we're not even dating. I don't know what that was but…” 

Your hands carefully stroked Spencer's hair, gently smoothing it out of his eyes as you searched for answers in the man's unconscious form. 

You didn't stop until the paramedics arrived four minutes later, sitting unblinking as they hooked him up to an oxygen tank and carted him off to the nearest hospital. 

XXX 

The second time Spencer Reid awoke, it was dark outside, and the lights were low. But you were at his bedside, sleeping with your head by his legs, and your breathing was steady. So he let his eyes close again, not registering any of the pain the day had inflicted, and let himself sleep beside you. 

XXX

The third time Spencer Reid awoke, you were gone. He wasn't alone, though. Rossi sat upright in a chair beside the window of his hospital room, reading from what looked to be a case file. 

“Spencer, glad to see you returned to the land of the living,” Rossi said, noticing the younger man's movement and walking to his side. He pressed a button, and a doctor raced in, closing the door gently behind him. 

“Where is she? Where is-” 

“Spencer, it's okay. Everyone's okay. The doctor needs to run through some questions with you to check if you're feeling okay. Do your best to answer, okay, genius?” 

Spencer nodded, ignoring the small ache in his head, so similar to the headaches he'd been plagued with in earlier years. 

The doctor ran through standard questions, checked his blood pressure, checked his reactions, and made sure physically he was fine before moving on to more probing issues. 

“Doctor Reid, I'm going to ask you some simple questions about yourself now to assess for any neurological damage.” 

Reid nodded, regretting it instantly, but wanting to get out of the hospital as fast as possible to see you.  

“How old are you, Doctor Reid?” 

“Thirty, I'll be thirty-one this fall.” The doctor nodded and continued. 

“Where did you grow up?” 

“Las Vegas, Nevada. My mom still lives there. She's a patient at Bennington Sanitarium.” 

The doctor nodded and continued. 

“Are you married, Doctor Reid?” 

“Yes, my-” Spencer had to cut himself off as he processed the question fully. Was he married? No. He didn't remember any wedding. He had no romantic arrangement with anyone at this point in time. So why was he saying yes? 

Your face flashed into his head, and he grabbed his chest as his heart ached. It wasn't your face as he usually saw it, but that dazed and shocked expression you'd worn after he'd kissed you. 

He blanched and reclined slightly, suddenly needing all the pillows on the bed for more support as he realized the weight of his mistake. 

“Doctor Reid? Doctor Reid, did you understand the question?”

“What? Oh, no. No, I'm…I'm not married, I guess.” 

Rossi and the doctor shared a look before the doctor took his leave, promising to check in on you again in a few hours. 

The concerned look from Rossi as his bedside was almost too much to take. 

“Stop looking at me like that, Rossi,” he said, grumbling to himself, suddenly upset at the end of his delusions. 

“Like what? I'm not allowed to look at you now?” 

“You're not allowed to pity me. Where's everyone else? They're okay?” 

Rossi took a seat next to him and sighed.

“Hotch is in surgery - non-critical. They just want to be sure the shrapnel that landed in his leg didn't strike anywhere near a nerve or an artery. Morgan survived with a few bruises and scrapes that make him look even more like an action movie hero. He's coordinating with local law enforcement to catch out bomber.” 

Reid nodded along to each revelation, but his patience was growing thin. Rossi was watching him squirm. Reid, waiting for your name to pop up in conversation so he could talk about you, think about you with a valid excuse. 

“Emily and JJ are back at the motels, Penelope met them there to help them out. Emily's left arm is broken, and she has a nasty cut on her face, JJ twisted an ankle and sprained it pretty bad, so she'll be sitting for a while. I, myself, survived with pleasantly few cuts, a boon given my advancing years-” 

“Y/N, what about Y/N?” Reid finally burst, looking pathetically down at Rossi from his hospital bed. 

“Eager, aren't we?” 

“I need to know she's okay, and that... that she doesn't hate me.” 

“You can find those answers out yourself, kid. My shift is almost over.” 

Rossi stood and grabbed his cup of coffee, saluting Reid as he strolled out of the door. 

Reid was confused until the door opened again thirty seconds later, and you rushed in, breathing heavily as you took in his appearance, checking for damage. 

“Y/N,” he said, sitting up again. “Listen, I'm so, so sorry for kissing you yesterday. My mind must've been jumbled after the explosion and- and I thought you were actually my wife, and we were married-” 

You closed the distance between you quickly, grabbing his cheeks like he had grabbed tours only a day before and planting your lips back on top of his again. 

You kissed him the way you'd been kissed once before. With desperation, and longing, and relief. And when you pulled back, there were tears in your eyes that you didn't let fall, as you pressed yourself into Spencer Reid's arms. 

“Don't. Don't scare me like that again. I thought we'd lost you, I thought you'd kissed me and then - and then died!” You ranted, your arms gesturing wildly, every few seconds pausing to rake a hand through your hair. 

“You're not angry?” 

“Yes. Yes, I am angry, Spencer. You got hurt again, I'm seething.” 

“At me. You're not angry at me for kissing you?” He asked, smiling up as you goofily, a little bit worse for wear, but still shining nonetheless. 

“Oh. No. I was confused, but I'm not angry.” 

“Good,” he said, nodding, the two of you falling into an awkward, tense silence. You picked at dust on his shoulder as he stared at you, neither of you bold enough to say another word until the tension was palpable and Spencer Reid burst open. 

“Can I kiss you again?” 

[shysuccubusstuff]

Yandere! Mr. Crawling

Content: SFW hcs + Established relationship + Overprotection + Manipulation + Baby trapping + clingy! Mr. Crawling + Gaslighting + Somnophilia + Stalking + Death + Breeding kink + Slight size difference.

Summary: Human! Mr. Crawling who tries to keep his deep love secret from you

Note: I hope all of you are having a good day!! I'm trying to do my essays but they're so boring... Let me know if you have any suggestions/things you want to say to me, I love answering to people!!

SFW:

Human! Mr. Crawling who falls in love as soon as he sees your face.

Human! Mr. Crawling who decides to try and keep you safe and protect you from all possible dangers. This ranges from leaving small gifts for you, buying you something to eat when he hears a rumble close to him, or buying you a drink if he has seen you working so hard on keeping up with all the classes, to sometimes intimidating the other guys that kept trying to get closer to you.

Human! Mr. Crawling who tries his hardest to speak to you, even if it's just a few words to make sure you know he's listening to you. Nodding his head and keeping his eyes completely focused on your face.

Human! Mr. Crawling who tries to make himself look smaller, crunching a bit and walking with his back a bit arched, not something that can be easily noticeable for others, but just enough to reduce the height difference between the two of you.

Human! Mr. Crawling who is finally able to make you feel safe with him, allowing him to get into your bedroom, even to the point of making a sleepover. He just had to try his hardest not to act in any weird manner.

Human! Mr. Crawling who keeps following you like a lost puppy. You can almost see two ears and a tail appear when he acts like a small puppy, being easily excited when you compliment him, even if it's for the smallest things.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who begins to feel how his pure love becomes something more twisted the moment he realises more people keep getitng interested in you. He looks so kind when you look at him, but as soon as you turn your head, his gaze becomes much darker, his expression is always serious, his brows slightly furrowed as he tries to keep himself restrained.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who takes advantage of you great "friendship" and starts to try and get rid of your friends. He keeps on interrupting when you meet with your other friends, creating different reasons why he just couldn't wait to meet you, as he truly needed you.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who takes advantage of his sickly aspect to make you worry about him, calling you to ask you for small gestures, making sure that they are small enough to avoid you from refusing him.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who is finally able to ask you out. He made sure to get rid of each and all your friends who could get in the way of your relationships, after all, he is everything you need, right?

NSFW:

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who had already seen you way before both of you met each other in class, his phone filled to the brim with pictures of you. The fact that most of them involve you in embarrasing positions while the rest are of your sleeping face. They definitely have no effect on him, hell no (just ignore the raging bulge he gets from seeing your lips slightly parted, totally normal reaction).

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who put a small chip on your phone while you were sleeping. How was he supposed to keep you safe if he didn't know where you were the whole day? Don't be so dramatic, he was just doing it for your sake :((

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who killed someone in front of you. He was stalking you around town when he saw that strange man grabbing you by your wrist and taking you to the closest dark alley. Before he could think, his hands were already gripping his throat, his face turning blue as his grasp got even stronger. When he finally was sure that man was no longer alive, he turned around, a happy smile on his lips as he waited for your compliments. He was now on his real height, allowing you to notice how he was over one head and a half taller than you, despite that, he made you pet his hair, forcing you to smile as the body of the strange man got colder.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling whose obsession only increases the moment the two of you decide to date. His arms are now always around your waist, his hands always touching you, no matter if you are alone or in front of other people. He just loves hugging you from behind, his dick rubbing against your ass, grinding against you as soon as he saw you do something he didn't like.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who forces his cock inside you, filling you load after load just to prove that you're truly his one and only. He doesn't stop until he sees his seed dripping from your hole, your eyes rolling to your skull with fat tears rolling down your cheeks from the overstimulation.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who keeps blabbering about impregnating you during sex, he doesn't even care about your gender, he WILL impregnate you. He will defy Mother Nature for you, filling you one after the other and not pulling out until the next morning.

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who masturbates with your clothes the moment he misses you, he doesn't care if you have been away for barely a few hours, he just misses his sweet darling so much :(( Not his fault that your clothes are filled with your sweet scent...

Yandere! Mr. Crawling who masturbates to your sleeping face while the both of you sleep together. He loves feeling you close to him, all relaxed as your expressions sometimes change to one of pure bliss... He hugs you from behind, beginning to grind against your ass as an attempt to keep himself in check. This of course doesn't work, which forces him to use his own hand to masturbate, slowly getting on top of you so he can get an extremely detailed view of your sleeping face.