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kryptid-writes · 1 year ago

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Chapter 15 - Defying Fate (Dean's Ending)

When Y/N must make a choice, she chooses to defy her fate and be with Dean Winchester. After a steamy exchange and a heartfelt apology, she’s ready to start the rest of her life with the Winchesters and their beloved angel.

(5.5k)

TW: this chapter contains smut (and my first attempt, at that)

“It’s my choice, and I choose… Dean.”

His eyes light up as he looks at me in disbelief, as if this was all some dream he would wake up from any minute.

“How… how could you?” Lucifer stares at me in despair, his lip quivering ever so slightly. His wings frill out, feathers standing tall like that of a cat about to pounce.

“Luce…” I look at him ashamed. I can physically feel his pain inside of me, the growing storm that tears him apart from the inside like an unstoppable tsunami. The boy who’s never felt love before until I came along, the boy who’s lost everything, and now, he’s lost me too.

“I love you!” He declares, shaking with anger and eyes glaring a frightful red. The room starts to rumble, lights flickering, and books flying off of shelves.

“If you truly love me, you’ll let me go.” I pull him into one last hug. The feeling of electricity burns between us, but this time it isn’t passionate and loving, it feels painful and unstable, ready to explode at the drop of a pin.

He shakes his head in defiance, “He’s human, he’ll die, and in the end, you’ll always come back to me,” he growls, pulling me as close as possible, scared to ever let go.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to my level, our noses touching. His red eyes gaze into mine, glazed with tears. I place a soft kiss on his lips, one last reminder of our love.

“Goodbye Luce,” I whisper. I slowly pull away, turning to Dean, Sam, and Castiel, all of them a bloody mess, but looking pleased with my decision. As I pull away, he desperately grabs my hand tight, turning me around to face him.

“I’ll never stop looking for you,” he says, his voice broken and shaky.

“Then I guess I’ll see you around.” I smile softly.

His wings hang limply at his side in defeat. He reluctantly lets my hand go and it drops by my side, the fuzzy feeling fizzling away.

Sam gives Castiel a questioning look, which he returns with a curt nod, before slamming his bloody hand onto the Enochian sigil he smeared on the wall. There’s a bright white flashing light that fills every inch of the room, similar to what I imagine the surface of the sun is like.

I cover my eyes with my forearm, to keep myself from going blind. I hear Lucifer yell behind me, and a burning feeling builds in my chest, the feeling runs through all my veins but passes within a matter of seconds, all that’s left is an unpleasant high pitched ringing noise.

“What the Hell was that?” I whip my head around to face Sam and Dean, looking at me relieved.

“An Enochian sigil, it temporarily banishes angels out of range,” Sam replies, quickly wiping his bloody palm off on his scuffed up jeans. The red smear blends in with the rest of the bloodstains caked on his clothes.

I look around the now much emptier room to find that both Castiel and Lucifer are nowhere to be seen. “What about Cas?”

“Cas is fine,” Dean assures me. “He’ll find his way home. He always does,” he chuckles, but immediately regrets it, clutching at his ribs.

I rush to his side, tentatively wrapping an arm around his shoulder to help him balance. He’s in bad shape.

“Thanks Y/N/N.” He gives me a genuine smile, showing off his blood stained teeth, and wraps his hand around my waist.

I snuggle up close, our bodies pressed up against one another and I can feel him relax just a little. “Wait,” my face scrunches up in confusion, my body going stiff, “I’m half angel. How did you know that I wasn’t going to be banished as well?” I shoot them a skeptical look.

Sam took in a sharp inhale through his teeth, glancing at Dean awkwardly. “Yeah, well we didn’t, not exactly,” Sam says, stumbling through his words.

“It was a fifty-fifty shot.” Dean shrugs, then looks at me with a cocky smile.

I roll my eyes. “It’s good to be back,” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Let’s go home.” I smile, carefully walking Dean out the door.

I take one last look at the house behind me that now holds memories, both good and bad. I mentally say goodbye to both the house and Lucifer. This won't be the end, that I’m sure of, but for now I get to live the life I so desperately crave.

The door opens with a creak and I help Dean shuffle into the back of the impala, he winces as he settles in his seat. The blood from his wounds and clothes smear the leather. He looks at it in dismay, but decides to wave it off for the time being. Bigger fish to fry, and all that.

Sam takes his seat behind the wheel, adjusting the mirrors to allow his tall form to see properly. Dean is by no means short, but compared to his younger brother, he could very well be a hobbit.

I slide in next to Dean in the backseat. Given that his old 67’ Chevy Impala has no seatbelts, he’s in no shape to be back here alone. Someone has to keep his ass from being tossed around at every bump and curve. As much as he tries to hide his pain, I can tell that even just breathing is excruciating for him.

I pull him in close, wrapping my wing around his back. He rests his head on my shoulder. I can feel the soft puffs of air tickling my neck each time he exhales, it’s calming and I allow myself to relax knowing that Dean Winchester is safe by my side.

The rest of the drive is calm and silent. Not a bad silence that leaves you feeling on edge, but a comfortable silence that we all seem to melt into, knowing that everything is going to be okay.

------------------------------------------------------------

“Ah, fuck,” Dean curses under his breath.

“Hold still, I’m almost done.” I bite the tip of my tongue as I focus on carefully stitching up the cuts along his arms where shards of broken glass had sliced him in Lucifer's rage. I’m an amateur at this, never had to hand stitch a wound before in my life, but Sam insisted that Dean and I have some ‘alone time’.

“In… and out,” I mutter to myself, dragging the curved needle through one edge of the flayed skin to the other, not unlike the countless times I've had to stitch up holes in my clothing. “And… done!” I chirp, tying off the end of the thread into a neat little knot. I smile, quite pleased with my work.

“Thanks doc, feeling better already.” Dean gives a chuckle that turns into a wheeze. He tries to stand from his spot on the edge of the bed, clutching at his broken ribs in pain.

“Not so fast, hotshot.” I gently guide him back down onto the bed and kneel at his feet, inspecting his abdomen for the full extent of the damage. I carefully press two fingers to his lower ribs, leaving feather light touches to the tender area. I can feel the edges of a broken bone poking under the skin.

He winces at my touch, sucking in a tense breath. His face twists up in pain with each movement of my hand.

“He got you pretty bad, huh?” I tilt my head, moving my hand to the other side of his ribs.

“Eh, I've had worse.” He shrugs, trying to remain stoic.

“I’m gonna try something,” I mutter, not entirely sure if I'm talking to him or myself.

His eyes snap open, meeting mine in panic. “You’re gonna wh-”

“Breath in,” I say, cutting him off. Before he has the chance to protest. I close my eyes and picture his ribs mending back into place. The warm buzzing feeling builds in my stomach and flows through my veins, and in a matter of seconds the sound of bones popping rings out.

“SON OF A BITCH!” Dean yells, fisting the bed sheets so hard the threads loosen under his grip. His breaths come out labored, but his ribs are completely healed, the purple bruises disappearing like they were never even there to begin with.

“See? You’re fine, you big baby.” I smile and pat him on the shoulder, happy that my test run had worked.

He looks at me through furrowed brows, clearly annoyed, but his face softens into an appreciative look. I push myself to my feet and shuffle into the bathroom. I fill a bowl with warm soapy water, grab a white fluffy towel, and return to the room, this time taking a seat next to Dean on the side of the bed.

“Thank you,” Dean says, inspecting his now perfectly healed ribs.

I give him a polite smile and nod. I dip the towel in the bowl, soaking up the warm water and carefully dab it on his chest, where the majority of blood stains his skin. Carefully, I clean his skin inch by inch, taking my time to make each muscle glisten under the soft bedroom lights. I can’t help the grin that tugs on my lips. Something about Dean is so intoxicating and his body is reminiscent of an ancient greek marble sculpture, chiseled to perfection.

He hums in appreciation, occasionally turning his arms and chest to give me better access to the more difficult to reach areas.

I mindlessly work my way up until I reach his stunning face. His mouth and chin are still coated in a layer of dried blood from coughing it up relentlessly only an hour ago. A bold idea flashes across my mind and in my second of bravery, I move my knees on either side of him, essentially straddling his lap. Our eyes lock and there’s a spark there that burns bright, an unspoken longing for one another. I lift the towel to his face, gently dabbing the blood off his stubbly chin.

His dazzling green eyes stare at me in wonder and disbelief, like he couldn’t comprehend that this is all really happening.

“I’m here Dean. I’m real,” I assure him with a soft smile.

His hand tentatively reaches up to cup my face, his calloused thumb caressing the apple of my cheek, the skin flushing a rosy pink.

I lean into his touch and move the towel to his lips. I carefully dab each of his chapped and bloody lips until they’re clean, restoring them to their plump, pink nature. I can’t peel my eyes away from admiring just how enticing they truly are. I break away from his hold, suddenly feeling ashamed.

“I’m sorry Dean.” I let out a long sigh, averting his gaze and staring at my lap.

He looks at me puzzled.

“For everything - the fight, turning myself in, Lucifer, all of it…” I sniffle, tears burning my eyes. “I’m just so sorry.”

“Hey, look at me,” he says in a calm, but stern voice. He takes my chin in his fingers, lifting my head up to look him in the eyes. “It’s okay, all of it.” He wipes my tears away with his thumbs. “I’m sorry too. I said - I did some things I regret. Every moment we spent searching for you, all I could think was the terrible things I said and how it might be the last thing you ever heard from me. It was tearing me up inside,” he admits.

“Dean-” I say with a sense of guilt.

“Don’t,” he cuts me off before I can even start. “All I'm saying is, it's okay. Let’s call it a fresh start for both of us.” He gives me a reassuring smile.

I nod, feeling a weight lifted off my shoulder. My wings relax, much of the tension relieved from my muscles.

“So… where do we go from here?” Dean asks, lifting his eyebrow in question.

“Well, if you’ll have me.” I swallow down my anxiety and force myself to spit it out. “I want to stay here… with you.”

Dean’s eyes light up like a kid at Disney World.

“I love you Dean Winchester,” I blurt out before I have the chance to talk myself out of it.

He blinks rapidly like he’s just hearing things. “You- you really mean that?” He asks with a heavy heart.

“More than anything.” I lean in so close that I can feel his breath on my lips.

“What about Lucifer? I mean, aren’t you his soulmate?” He says, trying to hide his scowl at the words coming out of his mouth.

“Screw fate, we make our own destiny,” I say in a breathy laugh.

“God I love you so much,” he says, colliding our lips together.

The kiss is soft, our lips slowly moving in sync, exploring these new feelings together. My heart swoons. Immediately I crave more. I lean into the feeling, deepening the kiss with a needy moan. I throw my arms around his shoulders, a hand trailing up his neck and tangling in his dirty blonde hair. I tug on it lightly and he groans in my mouth. I smile against his lips, pleased with his reaction.

He tentatively swipes his tongue along my bottom lip, silently asking permission for entry.

I happily comply, opening my mouth just wide enough to give him full access.

Without hesitation, he pushes his tongue in my mouth, exploring every inch of it until he has it memorized like the back of his hand. He tastes like whiskey and cherry pie with a hint of blood, a taste I just can’t get enough of. His tongue finds mine and they tangle together in a fight for dominance, a fight that ultimately I win.

I bite his lip, the faint taste of copper lingering behind and pull away for just a second to push him down on the bed.

He looks at me surprised with my sudden show of dominance, a sly smile tugging at his lips. He props himself up on his elbows, his eyes drinking in every inch of my body, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

How is it possible to be this fucking perfect? Dean Winchester is truly a gift from the gods.

I flash him a playful smile and experimentally grind down on his lap. His already hardening cock rubs deliciously against my sex. My wings quiver in pleasure. I can't stop the quiet moan that falls from my lips as he lightly thrusts up against me, the head of his cock brushing against my clit in the most perfect way. What I wouldn’t give to feel him without those pesky jeans in the way.

“Fuck baby,” he groans, tossing his head and screwing his eyes closed. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he says in a low husky voice.

I lean down, pressing our bodies together and resting my forearms on either side of his head, trapping him in this position, not that either one of us would ever want to leave.

He gazes at me through lidded eyes, his pupils blown so wide that nearly all of the dazzling green from his irises recedes into the black abyss.

“Then show me,” I seductively whisper in his ear, grinding my hips down again, earning a whimper from him.

This flips a switch in Dean. He grabs my hips possessively and pulls me upright on his lap.

“Off,” he commands in a dominant tone, tapping my hip with his fingers.

I waste no time and do as he says without question. First, I remove my shirt in one swift motion and unclip my bra, tossing them over my shoulder without care for the mess I leave behind. Then, I shuffle to my feet and wiggle out of my jeans, they pool around my feet and I kick them to the side, leaving me in just my underwear. I suddenly feel a bit self conscious and wrap my wings around my chest, concealing the most intimate parts of me.

“Don’t,” Dean says, gently grasping the flight feathers of my wings and moving them to the side. “You’re beautiful.” His eyes lovingly trail over my completely exposed body. He admires me like he’s watching the sun set for the very first time.

I blush profusely, hearing those words come out of his mouth does something to me, my heart flutters. Part of me believes that this isn’t even real, that this is just some dream I'm bound to wake up from and I’ll still be trapped in Lucifer’s bed. I mean, how could someone as perfect as Dean Winchester think so highly of me?

“I mean it Y/N, you’re the most beautiful creature i’ve ever seen,” he says in full seriousness, his eyes filled with adoration. He stands from the bed and strides over to me. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and kisses me passionately.

��I melt into the kiss, my legs turning into jello. I can’t help but lose myself in the feeling, swimming around in the love and lust building in my chest.

He reluctantly pulls away for air, both of us struggling to catch our breath. Leaning in close, he peppers my jaw with kisses, slowly moving down to my neck.

I lean my head to the side, giving him better access, desperately needing more.

He trails the kisses down to the base of my neck, finding a particularly sensitive spot that makes my eyes roll to the back of my head. He sucks on the spot, eliciting an involuntary moan from me.

I gasp as he bites down, just light enough to not break the skin, but hard enough to hurt, followed by soft licks and kisses to soothe the pain. Surely it will leave a hickey on my neck, a subtle reminder of who I belong to now, who I’ve chosen to give all of my love to.

He hums as he pulls away, smiling as he admires his work. “Go lie down and spread your legs for me, okay sweetheart?” He asks in his deep husky voice, squeezing my hip assuringly.

I nod, unable to form words at the moment. That voice has always had a certain effect on me, but hearing him say those words to me leaves me practically dripping for him. I settle into the middle of the bed, resting my head on the soft pillows below. I turn to my right to watch him strip out of his clothes one piece at a time, never breaking eye contact with me.

Once he’s completely stripped of his flannel and denim, he slowly crawls onto bed and I let my legs fall open, exposing my black lacy panties to him.

“Good girl,” he coos, placing his forearms on either side of my body and capturing my lips in a hungry kiss.

I whimper into his mouth, his praise going right to my core.

He breaks away and resumes his passionate kisses on the base of my neck, slowly working his way down to my collar bone. Once he reaches my breasts, he looks me in the eye, his gaze full of lust, and twirls his tongue around my perky nipple.

I throw my head against the pillow and arch my back, savoring the feeling.

He wraps his warm mouth around it, lightly sucking and continuing to tease me with his tongue. He gives experimental nips and bites, keeping intense eye contact, gauging for my reactions. His hand finds my other breast and gives it a sensual squeeze. He gently rolls my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, applying just the right pressure.

“Mmm,” I hum in pleasure.

Once he’s had his fill, he kisses his way down my ribs and stomach until he reaches where I need him most. Looking at me with hungry eyes, he places a soft kiss on the inside of my thighs with a sly smile.

My breath hitches as he places a soft kiss on my clit through the thin fabric of my panties, so gentle that he’s barely touching me, but nevertheless it sends shivers of pleasure down my spine.

“Deeean…” I whine. I open my legs wider, wanting, no, needing him to do more.

“Shh, let me take care of you baby,” he coos in a hushed tone. He loops his fingers under the fabric and slowly slips my panties down, tossing them to the side. He admires my glistening pussy for a minute, studying it like he's preparing for an exam. His eyes flick up to meet mine, blown wide with lust.

I lift my hips up an inch off the bed, silently pleading for him to touch me, but he doesn’t give in until he’s had his share of admiring me like it’s the last time he’ll ever see me.

Once he’s ready, he lightly runs his finger down my slit, making me jump at the contact. He gathers up the slick, rubbing it between his thumb and pointer finger. “So wet already,” he teases, inspecting his fingers. “All this for me?” He smiles deviously.

I nod bashfully, butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

He stares at me intently and brings his fingers to his mouth, swirling his tongue around them, humming as he tastes my wetness. He doesn’t stop until his fingers are completely clean of my arousal, savoring every last drop like it’s his last drink of water.

“Fuck baby, your taste is so god damn addicting.” He smirks. Without giving me time to respond he leans in and runs the tip of his tongue down my dripping pussy.

I whimper as his tongue brushes over my sensitive clit, my hips involuntarily bucking onto his face, but nothing could prepare me for what comes next.

He slowly traces down further, circling my hole with his tongue before pushing it in in one swift movement. He grabs my thighs, spreading them further as he moves his tongue in and out, fucking me relentlessly, flawlessly maintaining eye contact the whole time.

I grab the bedsheets with fisted hands, holding on for dear life, little whimpers spilling from my mouth, one after the other. A warm sensation builds in the pit of my stomach, growing stronger with every thrust of his tongue. God, what this man could do with his mouth is almost inhuman.

He hums in appreciation as he feels my walls growing tighter. He knows I'm close and he’s loving every second of it. He moves his tongue, running it up my slit until he reaches my sensitive clit. He swirls his tongue around it, taking the bud in his mouth and sucking lightly.

“Fuck,” I moan, as he sends me over the edge into an intense orgasm. The warm sensation of pleasure spreads through me like fireworks. I throw my head back, my wings stretching out as far as the bed will allow.

“That’s it,” he coos, admiring every twitch of my body and wings. “You’re doing so good for me sweetheart.”

“Deeeeeeean,” I moan as he helps me ride out the last waves of my orgasm.

He chuckles, pulling away and wiping my cum off his chin with the back of his hand. He pounces on me, kisses me roughly, shoving his tongue in my mouth. I taste my juices still on his lips, the flavors of me and him mixing together like the most intoxicating cocktail. He caresses my body with soft touches until I come down from my high. His rock hard erection presses against my belly, pre cum dripping from his slit.

“You think you can handle more?” He says in a gruff voice, looking at me with lustful eyes. “Think you can handle taking my cock?” he teases with a sly grin, taking himself in his hand and giving a few good strokes.

I wrap my arms around the back of his neck and pull him close. “Dean WInchester, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will murder everyone in this bunker,” I snap, returning his gaze with an intense passion.

His eyes widen in surprise, “You got it princess.” He chuckles.

He lines his cock up with my entrance until his head is just barely poking in. He looks at me in full seriousness, waiting for my consent.

I nod, desperately needing to feel him inside me.

He pushes in slowly, going inch by inch until he’s fully bottomed out inside me, filling me up so deliciously, our hips grinding against one another.

My back arches off the bed in ecstasy. He’s much bigger than I expected, his thickness filling every part of me better than any man I've ever had.

He stops, giving me time to adjust.

It burns for a moment but quickly fades into pleasure.

“Fuck baby, so tight,” he groans, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss.

“Dean, I need you to move,” I beg against his lips, clutching onto his broad shoulders, slick sweat already clinging to his peppered skin.

He pulls out halfway before slamming back into me, sending shocks of pleasure through my core, every nerve in my body firing all at once.

“Ah!” I moan far too loud. I smack my hand over my lips, terribly embarrassed at the sound that just came out of my mouth.

“No,” Dean commands, removing my hand from my mouth and pinning it above my head. “Let me hear those pretty little noises, sweetheart,” he growls in my ear seductively, fanning the fire inside me. He relentlessly pounds into me, his cock flawlessly dragging against the spot that drives me crazy.

I become a moaning, writhing mess underneath him, drunk on pleasure. My hips enthusiastically meet his with every thrust. An idea crosses my mind and I decide to put it to the test. I close my eyes and picture my grace wrapping around his cock and squeezing ever so slightly.

“Oh!” Dean moans out, his breath hitches and eyebrows furrow together. “What the fuck was that?” He looks at me bewildered.

“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, my voice laced with concern.

“God no, never stop.” He leans his head against my neck, leaving sloppy kisses along the sensitive skin, swiping his tongue over the bite mark.

I focus on working my warm buzzing grace over him, my strokes building up from soft and slow to intense and passionate. I feel the warm sensation twirling around inside of me as well, bringing us both to new heights.

He removes his hand from my wrist and slowly trails it down to my wing, caressing it ever so slightly.

I give him a questioning look before he grabs a handful of my silky feathers and gently tugs on them.

“FUCK!” I scream, the pleasure radiating from my wings almost unbearable. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I temporarily lose my grip on reality. “Where the hell did you learn to do that?” I ask, panting through the intense sensations.

“Cas may have mentioned it to me at one point or another.” He winks, clearly pleased with how effective it is.

I make a mental note to have a word with Cas about this later, but I'm pulled out of my thoughts by another tug and a particularly deep thrust.

“Please don’t stop,” I whimper desperately.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart” He pants, keeping his fingers buried in my wings. He picks up his pace, relentlessly fucking me into the matress, flawlessly hitting my G spot with every stroke.

My mind goes blank, the only thing I can focus on is the building sensation in my core filling me with pleasure at an intensity I've never experienced before. It’s a bit intimidating, but incredibly arousing. I don’t even notice the string of expletives mixed with the repeated moaning of his name that falls from my mouth.

I’ve had good sex before, but this? This is different. This is the kind of sex that ruins it for anyone else, not that I'll ever want to have sex with anyone but Dean Winchester ever again.

“Dean, fuck!... I’m gonna,” I stutter the words out as the warm feeling inside me builds hotter than ever before.

“Me too… cum for me baby, cum on my cock Y/N,” he groans in my ear. He gives my wings a harder tug and with one last deep stroke, it’s all over.

I scream as I cum on his cock, my orgasm ripping through me. My walls clamp down on him, wings fluttering against the sheets. My grace explodes, surging through us both, sending an intense electric feeling from head to toe.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he moans as he cums inside me, the warm liquid filling me up.

“I love you too Dean,” I pant, my heart beating a million times a second.

“Never leave me again.” He looks me in the eye with full seriousness, searching my face for any sign of regret.

“Never,” I reply with a smile.

He collapse on top of me, and for just a moment, we become one. Love in perfect harmony.

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“He’s right, you know,” Dean says, tracing soft shapes with his finger on the skin of my sternum as we cuddle.

“Hm?” I question in a far out voice, still bathing in the afterglow.

“I won’t live forever, not like you.” He leans his head against my shoulder, draping his arm over me and pulling me close.

“I don’t care. It just makes every moment with you more precious.” I wrap my wings around him and place a soft kiss on the top of his head, his hair still damp with sweat.

He nods and weakly smiles against my skin, but I can feel his lingering doubt.

“Look at me Dean.” I take his chin in my hand and direct him to look at me, his doe eyes full of hope. “Nothing would make me happier than being by your side as you grow old, loving you until your dying days.” I give him a bittersweet smile, pulling him even closer.

“I love you, Y/N,” he says, pressing a soft kiss against my lips, seemingly satisfied with my answer.

“I love you too, Dean,” I coo, returning his kiss with passion.

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“To Y/N!” Dean cheers, lifting his glass to a toast.

“To Y/N!” Sam repeats with a smile.

Our glasses clink together, drops of whiskey spilling over the edges onto the worn wood of the library table.

“Welcome home,” Sam says, taking a swig of his drink, trying to hide the cringe on his face as the whiskey burns his throat.

“It’s good to be home,” I reply with a grin. I take a sip of my own, not how I usually would, gulping it down with haste. Instead, I gingerly take a small sip, savoring the flavor of my beloved Jack Daniels Whiskey like I have all the time in the world, because I do. I smile at the thought.

“Hello,” a familiar deep voice says from behind me.

I turn around in my chair to find Castiel standing no more than a foot away, clearly still having no regard for personal space since I left, not that I mind.

His crystal blue eyes fall on me, looking very happy to see me again.

I greet him in Enochian with an enthusiastic wave. For weeks I've been working on the pronunciation of ‘hello friend’ in Enochian, praying I'd have the chance to show Cas someday, a little piece of hope that kept me going since I left.

Castiel smiles wider than I've ever seen, breaking the usual stoic look he wears on his face. “I’m very impressed,” he praises, pulling me into a tight hug. His bloodied clothes are still sticky and wet, but that doesn’t matter at all right now, I'm just happy to be back by his side.

The brothers are taken aback, clearly surprised at the sudden affection from their usually distant angel.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/N.” He pulls away, flattening out his crinkled trench coat. “Sam, Dean,” he greets them both with a smile.

“So, what now?” Dean asks, lifting his brow and glancing around at us, his finger dancing along the rim of the glass.

“I want you to train me to be a hunter,” I say sweetly, fixing my posture and displaying my wings proudly.

“A hunter, huh?” Dean says, looking amused.

I nod, excited at the notion.

“A half angel would make one hell of a hunter,” Sam laughs, taking another swig of his drink.

“I’d be happy to assist you in honing your powers,” Cas pitches in.

“Let's get started,” I smile, finally feeling complete for once in my life.

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Tags: @roseblue373 @iprobablyshipit91 @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites

#dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #lucifer supernatural #lucifer x reader supernatural #lucifer #lucifer x reader #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural reader insert #reader inse #supernatural #slow burn #love triangle

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coffeeandjoon · 2 years ago

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🌓 Nocturnal Prince 🌓

Pairing: Christian Yu x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

Wordcount: N/A

Summary: Sometimes the most powerful of curses can be shattered by the strength of love. Or they turn someone into the cruelest version of themselves. The Prince of Avalon, Christian Yu, stopped believing a long time ago that one day someone would truly love him and break his curse.

He’s a werewolf, roaming the forest close to Ravenswood by night, terrorizing and destroying everything that comes along his path with his pack of fearless werewolf soldiers. Everyone knows to stay out of the woods at night.

Meanwhile, in Ravenswood, Vixen struggles to be accepted as the "new girl" at college. As a fox shifter, that's not so easy, which is why she takes on the daring challenge of entering the forest at night and lasting until dawn.

A night of fear and terror begins and soon Vixen is running for her life from a pack of wolves that hunt her without mercy. Much to Christina's chagrin, the fox shifter survives until dawn and escapes his forest. But not without catching a glimpse of him, which changes everything for both. He can't believe she's made it out alive and begins to feel a stirring within him that he hasn't felt in a long time – hope.

He starts to follow Vixen, watching her from the shadows, and slowly begins to realize that she might be the key to breaking his curse. As he watches her navigate the challenges of being the new girl in town, Christian starts to see that Vixen is not like the other shapeshifters and magical creatures of Ravenswood and breaks one of his most important rules: never seek contact with anyone outside his pack.

Teaser:

"I can smell your fear," Christian growled, already turning away. In the end, they all reacted the same way.

"Fear is a feeling, being afraid is a choice. I choose to not be afraid," Vixen said, making him stop in his tracks.

He turned again, a sinister grin gracing his boyish features. With long strides he stood directly in front of Vixen, making her stumble in surprise against the pine tree behind her. His dark brown eyes roamed over her face, searching for any sign of fear, but all he could discern was pure curiosity. Of course. Goddamn foxes.

"Your curiosity will get you killed eventually," he said.

Vixen leaned forward, inches from his lips, a challenging glint lurking in her eyes. "I could say the same thing to you. Lurking around the outskirts of town as a wolf during the day just to see me is the stupidest thing I've ever observed," she shot back.

That broke Christian's perfectly thought-out mask and he looked at her puzzled, his cheeks turning red within seconds. "That...I...I didn't...," he stammered and leaned back a bit to put distance between them again.

"Say what you will, wolfie, but you're not as smooth with your watching as you thought," Vixen said nonchalantly, giving him a cheeky grin before walking back to the street. Realizing that Christian wasn't following her, still standing speechless and flushed in the same spot, she called over her shoulder, "Are you coming or not?"

Rule number four: never enter Ravenswood. How many more rules would he break for her? Probably all of them. And he wouldn't regret a thing about it.

Author’s note: Well, here we are. I’m feeling inspired for some Christian Yu werewolf fanfic, there’s not a lot of fanfic for him, so let’s change that now 🌚

#dprian #dpr ian #christian yu #christian yu fanfic #dpr ian fanfic #dpr ian fic #christian yu fic #kpop fanfic #dpr #dream perfect regime #fantasy fic #werewolf fic #nocturnal prince

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xiaos-eclair · 2 years ago

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REGRET IS THE POWERHOUSE OF A XIAO

XIAO X READER-NSFW

warnings: solo masturbation(m.) , angst, post break up, ruined orgasm

lil commission i finally managed to finish!

He's sure it's been over an hour, his wrist ached and his muscles were slowly getting tired, flexing and tensing just to fail him over and over again.

He was in nothing short of an agony, his cock red and still stiff in his fist. He tried everything. His nipples sore from how much he pulled on them, balls stained in his own spit, the gooey liquid pooling and dripping between his legs.

Xiao wasn't used to having someone clouding his mind, not like this. It's the way your eyes would watch him with adoration, the way your fingers worked with care each time you stripped him down and out of his clothes, the way every night with you felt like everything but a quick fuck.

But you're not his. And he's not yours. And most importantly, you're not here.

Somehow he fucked up again, it's not a surprise. It's what he does best, push and move on. It's been months and he was as good as new as soon as it happened. But this is the first time he ended up alone in his room, with nothing else but the guilt and selfishness clawing it's way up his throat. He sees now that he managed to keep himself busy for a long time.

He's stubborn, hot headed and would never call for you again. He did what he had to do, he reasons.

He snaps out of it, focusing on the slick pumps of his fist. He's doing great...he can feel it again, the warm coil in his belly that makes his knees spread and his hips slam into his own hand, feet digging into the bed.

And then he closes his eyes, a vivid image of your face inches away from his lips becoming so clear and it's the best thing he felt in a while. He can feel your breath on his tongue, the pressure on his skin and the praise that you said all too often repeating in his ear. He can smell you and taste you. And then he can taste something wet and salty, dripping into his mouth and staining both of your tongues. It makes him sit up, breath knocked out of his lungs, his eyes now wide open as he adjusts to the faintly lit room.

His heart pulls at his chest and grips around his throat.

His brain often graced him with a few oh so dear sceneries, whether it was you getting fucked by another man or screaming at him, leaving, slamming the door shut or his absolute favorite, you crying.

You knew exactly why he did what he did, and you screamed it at his face, begging and wailing for him to think and to just let it happen. And after he sadistically watched you from the other corner of the room, you stopped crying. Swallowing your tears you looked at his cold expression, accepting your faith. You chose this and you knew the outcome, after all you weren't as special as you hoped you were. Your hand reached the door, silencing the last cry in your chest. And against better judgement you said the words you still curse yourself for. A promise you hope he'll hold you to.

"If you ever need a friend...I'm here"

And just like that, you were gone.

It was a sick way of him proving to himself that he's not worth your kindness and your heart. Only a monster would do this to someone they are supposed to love. Someone they do love.

It was pitiful, questioning his life choices with his dick limp between his legs, reliving one of his biggest regrets. What would he even say? "Hey so I couldn't cum and now I realize I regret it, I'm sorry, take me back?" He grimaces to himself, laying back down, staring at the ceiling.

You deserve more than he can give, that's for sure.

Ko-Fi <- if you like what I do and you don't know what to do with your cash 😌💙

#xiao x reader smut #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader angst

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miekasa · 4 years ago

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1+1 (levi ackerman)

↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au, fluff...... again....... is it getting boring and predictable yet lmao, once again the dog’s name is captain and no i do not regret it

↯ word count: 2.5k

↯ summary: levi ackerman is a cuddler, don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. (aka me once again pushing my physical affection is levi’s love language agenda because he’s a poor, touch-starved little man).

i. the lap pillow: person A sits upright, while person B rests their head in person A’s lap. head pets and hair playing option, but highly encouraged.

Levi spent an obnoxious amount of time picking out the perfect couch for his apartment. He might have paid a little bit more than what he’d originally budgeted for, but it was worth it; his soft, plush couch and accompanying cushions were equally comfortable and beautiful, matching the interior of his living room, and posing at the perfect nap spot when Levi was too tired to make it to the bed, or wanted to lounge around with Captain for a while.

Or, well, it used to be worth it. Because now, Levi would rather lay his head on your lap than on his stupid, expensive couch and all its cushions.

Sure, the couch still provides comfort or refuge for the rest of his body, a comfy cavern to stretch his limbs or crash on after a long day, but with you there, all the benefits go to his head; literally, because when his head is in your lap, you stroke his face, comb through his hair, pad your thumb against his lips—whatever, Levi doesn’t really fucking care, because all of it is heavenly.

“Do you want to go to bed?” you question softly, hand raking through Levi’s hair. He’s lying on his back, not even pretending to have been watching the TV, as to let you have maximum access to his hair and face.

“No,” he says shortly, shifting his foot around to allow for your yorkie puppy to curl up at the other end of the couch, “Comfortable here.”

You try to hide the chuckle from escaping your lips. Levi certainly wasn’t shy about how much he liked your affections, especially within the closed walls of his apartment; but it always amused you just how simultaneously clipped, yet clingy he could be about it.

“Your neck is going to hurt, love,” you tell him, slowly moving your right hand from his hair to trace along his eyebrow, then down his cheek.

Levi huffs, ever so slightly. Then, gently, turns on his side, rotating his body and head, so that his cheek is now pressed along your thigh, legs curled up to his stomach, allowing Captain more space to curl into a ball at the base of Levi’s feet. He bends his arms, both coming to rest on your thighs as well, just an inch from his face.

“It’s fine like this,” he grumbles, voice thick with sleep—and a bit of frustration, because you’ve ceased playing with his hair at this point, “I’m going to take a nap, don’t move.”

You can help your laughter from escaping, “I don’t really have a choice, now do I?”

He hums in affirmation, shifting around just a bit to his comfort. You smile at the way he wiggles his toes, Captain taking it as an invitation to snuggle closer to Levi. You rest your right hand against Levi’s shoulder, lightly massaging his muscles as to not disturb his drifting to sleep, and resume your focus on the TV ahead of you.

Just when you’d thought Levi was on his way to falling asleep, he lets out a discontented grunt, moving his arm backwards to grab at your wrist, and with gentle, but firm force, moves your hand that was massaging his shoulder to the top of his head. He says nothing, only moves his hand back to its previous position, and once again shifts to readjust his napping position.

You get the message, and with a wide smile, you carefully begin to thread your fingers through his hair again; and with a satisfied purr, Levi snuggles his head into your lap, and finally drifts off to sleep.

ii. the half spoon/chest rest: person A lays flat on their back, while person B curls into their side, laying their head on person A’s chest.

Levi rarely falls asleep before you do, so he’s had quite a bit of time to observe your sleep habits—as non-creepily as possible, of course.

You’re a pretty normal sleeper—again, not that he spends his time watching other people sleep, or anything—but you do have your own quirks; most of which Levi finds endearing on some level or another. Like the way you always have to have a minimum of three pillows on your side of the bed, even if you don’t sleep with all three of them at the same time. And the way your arms subconsciously curl up, usually around a pillow if Levi isn’t there, or even around yourself if there’s no object for you to grasp.

One of your sleeping ticks he isn’t particularly fond of is the way you move around. Not sporadically, and thankfully, not to a point that leaves you sprawled across the mattress at an obscure angle, but just… around. He especially hates when you roll away from him, because you usually roll away and never roll back.

Which is why Levi is generally fond of cuddling positions in which he’s holding you, as to make sure you don’t, quite literally, roll out of his arms. Because nothing pisses Levi off more than waking up and realizing you’ve rolled away and taken to snuggling against your pillow instead of him. He’s much better than a pillow. Warmer, too. Not mention, a real, actual human being.

Right now, you’re tucked almost expertly into Levi’s right side, head laying on his chest, your right arm over his stomach, hand just barely tickling the exposed skin from his shirt riding up. Levi likes the feeling of your shallow exhales rippling against his shirt, and the warmth of your cheek pressed against his chest.

He’s about to fall asleep himself, when he feels you shuffling, and oh no, not on his watch. Before the worst can happen, Levi secures his right arm over your shoulder, as to hold you against him. The urge to roll seems to leave you then, the only movement is of your right arm, which you bend at the elbow, now laying your palm against his pecs.

Levi exhales, content. Now he can sleep peacefully. Well, almost. There’s one more thing he likes about this position, and it’s his ability to use his free hand to reach down, scoop under your knee and drape your leg across his waist—and he does so happily; smiling to himself as you subconsciously burrow yourself further into his side.

Much better, Levi thinks, letting his eyelids flutter shut. It was time for bed, after all, and he had a feeling he’d be waking up warm and cozy in the morning.

iii. full contact cuddle: person A sits or lays on their back, while person B rests almost directly on top of them.

“I don’t get why you like this so much,” you say, words mumble, as you shimmy up Levi’s body to lay your cheek against his chest, “How do you possibly benefit from this?”

If you asked Levi, this was probably his favorite way to cuddle. Something about having almost all of your body weight on top of him, your head against his chest, and his arms wrapped completely around you just made him feel warm, and cozy, and content. Plus, the added bonus of you laying directly on top of his dick.

He could say all of that, but instead he opts for a minimal hum, and, a simple, “It’s warm.”

“Yeah, because you’re warm, Levi,” you point out, but burrow into his skin anyway. You’re not exactly complaining, laying on Levi is nice; especially a shirtless Levi, with how warm his body runs. And, well, for other reasons, too.

Once again, you’re met with a non-committal hum. Levi just holds you for a bit, listening for the way your breathing slows and evens out, feeling for signs of your body slowing down against his.

After a while, he shifts his arms, moving so that they’re no longer stacked atop each other, but with his palms both resting against your back, creeping under your shirt. “It’s the weight,” he replies carefully, moving his right hand to rub against your skin, “It feels nice.”

“The weight?” you question, lifting your head to look at him, your chin poking into his chest. Levi looks down to meet your eyes, a small nod in reassurance.

“I can’t… explain it,” he tells you truthfully, “I just like the feeling of you against me. It’s not symbolic or any shit like that, it just, feels good. Sometimes feels like we’re… I don’t know, connected or some shit. I can feel you breathe when I breathe, and all that.”

It’s a poor explanation, and nothing close to what he wants to be able to convey, but you understand him anyways; you always do. You have to hold back your overgrown smile, just barely letting the corners of your lips turn upwards at Levi’s response. You extend your neck briefly to place a short kiss against his jaw, before turning to head to lay back on his chest.

“No, I get it,” you reassure him, snuggling against him for extra measure, “Feels nice to just know you’re there.”

Levi hums in affirmation, his hand squeezing at your waist affectionately—a silent thank you for being able to read between his lines. You lay like that for a while, your exhales tickling against Levi’s bare chest, while his hands massage at your back.

“Besides,” he says, his hands slowly venturing down past your waist; he squeezes at your hips, adjusting you so that your center is directly on top of his, and encouraging you to lift your upper half, so that you’re looking down at him, a full view of the wicked smile on his face, “I kind of have a thing for you being on top of me.”

iv. the seated snuggle: person A sits upright, maybe slouched a bit, while person B cuddles into their side; a hand wrapped around A’s waist or arm, and B’s head resting against A’s shoulder.

Levi likes his alone time, but even when he’s focusing on himself, he’s acutely in tune with you and your emotions. And to be honest with himself, he spends a lot of his alone time thinking about you—consciously or not, you find a way into his brain, and Levi has long since accepted that you’re a permanent, and very welcome presence in his life, one that can be more powerful and enjoyable that his own solitude.

Even when he’s sitting on the couch, right leg bent and tucked under his left at the knee, a book Hange had recommended in his hand, with a shitty hospital drama playing as background noise on the television; even then, when he’s relaxing and enjoying his novel, he purposefully feels out your presence and gauges your emotions.

Though, if you asked him, it shouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to understand that you were feeling a little out of it today—maybe not quite sad, but moving a bit slower, perhaps tired, or annoyed by your day at work—despite the cheery lilt in your voice. But Levi knew, he could feel it, that something was off; but he could also feel that this something wasn’t getting talked about today, or that, perhaps you just didn’t have the words to express it right now.

Levi greets you as he would when you come through the door, tilts his head up when you lean down to give him a kiss, and lets you pad into your bedroom to change and shower. You shuffle around after that, making your way to the kitchen to reheat the dinner he’d cooked earlier, and flitter between your bedroom and the living room after that.

And Levi knows; he knows that you want to talk to him, but that you wouldn’t dare to interrupt his alone-time, because you know how important it is to him. What you fail to understand is that you’re just as, if not more, important to him because you give him space.

So, Levi waits until you’re hovering by the doorway of the living room again, and then, without looking up from his book, silently opens and extends his left arm. He counts three seconds before you come shuffling over to him, wasting no time tucking yourself into his side, and resting your head on his shoulder. Levi hums when he feels your cheek press into his neck, and wraps his arm securely around you.

“Long day?” he questions, eyes still on his book, but reading at a marginally slower pace now.

Your eyes flutter shut at the question, working harder to snuggle yourself into Levi, wrapping your arms around his waist, “The longest.”

Levi hums, finishing his page, and tucking the ear to mark his spot before closing his book. He turns his head to press a kiss into your forehead, and pulls you a little closer against him. “It’s over now, I’ve got you.”

v. the times together/pretzel: person A rests with back against a wall/couch/object, and person B mirrors their positions; both A and B’s legs are intertwined, while they look at each other.

Levi will only take a bath after he’s showered, because there’s no appeal in sitting in your own wet dirt. That being said, post-shower baths with you are something he looks forward to, especially after a long, drawn out work week.

You both sit facing each other, legs bent and intertwined, your empty champagne glasses resting on the tiled floor beside the tub. Levi lets you make bubble beards on his face, and smiles as you splash them away and placate it all with a crescendo of kisses.

“I love you,” you smile between presses of your lips, the palms of your hands squishing Levi’s cheeks together—and he just lets you, because he loves you.

Levi thinks it’s his turn now, though he has no interest in bubble beards, or mohawks, simply mirroring your actions to cup your face with his hands, pull you closer, a whisper on your lips.

Wet thumbs pad against your cheeks, and Levi thinks that even like this, with only the flicker of candle flames illuminating your face, that you’re beautiful, and the best thing he’s ever gotten the opportunity to love and care for in his life.

So he lets you know, “And I love you.” And he means it; and you know he does.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #aot fluff #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #eren x reader

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rockingrobin69 · 3 years ago

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This is my @drarrymicrofic wheel of Drarry exchange present for the lovely, talented @flightytemptress27! It’s vaguely the friends to lovers you requested? Based on the Enchanted Forest event in Pitlochry. Thank you @callmegri for the help! 1k, fluff, pining and lights!

This was such a mistake. Harry knew it as soon as they arrived at the forest; the first string of fairy lights made it abundantly clear. It illuminated Draco’s face just so, and the way his eyes lit up – the way his lips curled around the edges, his whole face softening – spelled clear and absolute doom for Harry. He was an idiot for suggesting they go here, just the two of them. He was an idiot for thinking he could possibly handle this. Draco’s smile, now in full bloom on his lips, made him regret every decision he ever made in his life.

Because how was he meant to stop himself from saying it?

They’ve been circling the words for months. Harry’s tongue occasionally slipping made him adopt some views he never thought he will: he apparently loves raspberry-swirl ice cream now, loves ‘The Matrix’, loves a cloudy day. And no, he wasn’t just pointing at random things, Draco! He just felt very passionately about bicycles all of a sudden. Yes, he didn’t know how to ride them. Still, he loved the goddamned things.

And here – with the air so cold moving made it crackle, with the lights all around the trees, with the occasional cry of wonder from the other visitors – with Draco glowing, glowing, surrounded by the smell of freshly fallen leaves and loveliness – really. Harry was a strong man, but not this strong. He was going to make a blunder. He was going to spill it, and ruin everything, the careful friendship they worked so hard on, and life will go back to being the dark, horrible wasteland it was before Draco came and saved him.

“How did you find out about this place?” Draco asked suddenly, startling Harry out of breath. He gulped a few times before he could answer.

“Erm, Lavender. She and Parvati come here every year. She said about the lights and all, and, I dunno. I thought you’d like it.”

“Are you joking?” Draco turned back to him, his whole face open with joy, and Harry had to push both hands in his pockets. Not because they were nearly freezing, but because they were itching to touch. “Harry, I… this is perfect.”

It was, damn it. Absolutely perfect. Harry could not tear his eyes away from Draco’s.

“I’m glad you like it.”

Draco grabbed his elbow, quite literally beaming. “Walk with me?”

As if Harry had a choice. They made their way through the forest slowly, stopping at every light feature. Harry was still a little short of breath, mind only half-working with how close Draco was, with how he was touching him. He didn’t dare say a word the entire time, fearing he might break whatever spell they were under.

“Enchanted Forest, you said?” Draco pulled him closer to let a group of Muggles by, all chatting excitedly and snapping a million pictures. “It truly feels that way, doesn’t it? And without any magic involved.”

Harry forgot what magic was at that particular second. He forgot what anything else could possibly mean: only Draco, right there, where Harry could feel his warmth. His face must have been a couple of inches away. The mist from their breathes mixed, joined.

“I’m going to tell everyone about this event,” Draco said, his voice still so soft it made Harry ache all over. “Maybe next year we could take the people from the shelter. I bet the drive here would be beautiful too, especially in autumn. What do you think? It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“I love it.”

Harry didn’t understand why this remark – surely less controversial than ‘Yeah, I do actually love that awful smelly cheese with the name I can’t pronounce’ – earned that deep a silence. Draco blinked at him a few times.

“What… what was that?”

“I said I love it. The idea. It’s great.”

Draco shook his head, the tiniest movement. “That’s not what you said.”

“N-no? What did I say, then?”

Slowly, almost in awe, Draco’s face came even closer. A gloved hand emerged from his expensive jacket to cup Harry’s cheek. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” but he knew, he knew, and god, what a mistake, what a terrible and dreadful thing to do to his best friend, to the one person he never wanted to hurt again, to the one man he’d do anything for –

“Harry.” Draco's other hand found its way to Harry’s face too. “Come back to me. Did you really mean it?”

“What, that I love you?” he sighed, too tired and heartbroken to play pretend. “Of course I do, Draco. God. Of course. Not like anyone can miss it. I’m so in love with you I didn’t even see one single light here, okay? All I could see tonight was you.” His heart pounded, heavier with every second of silence. Until –

“You fucking wanker,” was what Harry thought he heard. But that felt impossible, for in the next second Draco was kissing him, warm and desperate and mad.

“Wait,” Harry tried to pull away, “wait, wait, what are you…” but he gave up, gave it all in this kiss, clinging to Draco not just for his warmth and not just because he’s been dying for it, literally, it felt, but because he could.

It may have been heaven, actually, except for how cold it was. When Harry finally broke apart for some air, his smile was so wide it hurt. Draco looked just as happy, tousled, bright eyed and pink cheeked and lovely enough to light up Harry’s heart like a Christmas tree. Who cared about an enchanted forest, when he had this? His enchanting Draco?

“I have so many questions,” Draco laughed, giddy and dear. “But first things first. Do you love me more than raspberry-swirl ice cream?”

Harry pulled him into his arms, unwilling to spend another second not touching. Then he Apparated them both back to his house, breathless and excited out of his mind. They could come back to the forest tomorrow, or next week, or next year. Didn’t really matter right now. Harry had enough light inside to last them a lifetime.

#drarry #fic #wheel of drarry exchange #lights #pining #fluff #a gift #enchanted forest #it runs every autumn #and it's absolutely lovely #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #RockingRobin69

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midnight-dreamerness · 3 years ago

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Savior

Chapter 2: Finding Strength

(This is NOT my gif. Credit to the creator <3)

series summary: when your protector returns, he finds you broken and abused and helps you climb out of the darkness

chapter summary: you finally have had enough and you find the strength to escape

pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

warning: mentions of death, acts.mentions of abuse, mentions of self harm

word count: 2.1k

Quitting the job you love was really hard. After your brother died you got back together with Kade after a short break in the relationship, you moved in with him. You didn’t have the best relationship with your parents, and it only got worse when Danny, your brother, died while overseas.

You walked into the apartment, your head bowed trying to hide the tears threatened to spill down your cheeks. He’s already home, you saw his car in his usual spot in the parking garage when you pulled in. You could also make out the sound of the tv playing in the living room.

You headed towards the bedroom until he called your name, making you turn and slowly make your way into the living room.

“Did you do it?”

There are empty beer bottles everywhere along with a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table. You sighed but nodded nonetheless, playing with the hem of your blouse.

“Good. Start cleaning. This place is a mess.”

And you did what he said, all day. He made you scrub the floor down with a scrubbing brush. You had to clean every inch of the apartment, while picking up the trash he left behind him all day. When night came, you had officially cleaned everything and cooked him dinner. You sat down at the table, ready to eat after not having breakfast or lunch all day.

“What are you doing? You think you deserve to eat? No. You're going to sit there and think about what you did.”

With sad eyes and an ache in your stomach, you didn’t fuss. You didn’t even say a word. You didn’t want him to see you cry so you held it in as much as you could. You hold back sobs, it creates a burning feeling in your chest and throat.

After you got home yesterday, Kade had been enraged. Accused you of cheating, he didn’t even mention you telling Jay about the abuse. It was worse because it was Jay. He knew your background, and how you fell in love with him when you were younger. Last night's memories were fuzzy after that. All you can remember was the agonizing pain and the god awful headache you had after he slammed your head against the kitchen counter. Kade has made you quit your job, you weren’t sure why.

Kade wipes his mouth with a cloth once he’s finished eating. “I try to be nice to you. But you test me. Every single day, you test me.” He stands from his seat at the table, coming closer and closer to you. You look up at him pleading with your eyes.

“Worthless. Pathetic. Get up.”

You do as you're told and stand up. He roughly grabs your arms, dragging you down the hall. You think he’s heading towards the bedroom but he stops at the hallway bathroom. He opens it and tosses me inside.

“This is your new room now. You should get comfortable,” he snarls. You're on the ground now, groaning. He takes the chance and shoves his foot into your chest.

When will it stop! When is enough, enough for him? Why am I not good enough? What did I do that made him so violent?

These things run through your head as he continues his abuse. Pain and suffering, blood and tears are things you have gotten used to.

It’s an hour later when he stops, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he stares down at you in disgust. You look at him weakly and in pain. You're almost positive you need medical attention, but you say nothing.

“Cheating whore,” he spits. With one final look, he’s gone. The sound of the kick in the bathroom door clicking, only making more tears pool in your eyes.

What has my life come to? When did it get this bad? How did I let it get this bad?

The bathroom floor was ice cold, even with a towel laid underneath you, you were still freezing. You know he bumped the temperature down, torturing you even when he wasn’t at home. You twirled the card between your fingers. His name sticking out along with his number.

Deceive Hay Halstead.

You remember fourteen year old you, rushing into your brothers room where he and Jay were playing video games. You remember how excited you were when you told the both of them you got the lead role in your dance group.

“I’m so proud of you,” Jay had exclaimed.

You wondered if he would be proud of you now.

Would he?

There’s so much history between you and Jay, a lot of things your brother never knew about, and now he never will.

It’s been days since you saw him. You can still see his smile and his perfect white teeth as he spoke to you. You can still feel his body against yours from that day he had you against the wall.

You should’ve told him. You're filled with regret. He could’ve helped you get out.

I wouldn’t be in this stupid bathroom if I had agreed to let him help me.

You could’ve called him the day he made you quit your job. You could’ve driven off, anywhere. Somewhere, where Kade couldn’t find you.

Yet, here you are. You have a few - a lot - new bruises that have replaced the old ones. There’s still a harsh pain in your chest and your stomach from not having eaten in days. You know it’s been at least a week.

He comes and goes. Sometimes you can hear giggles pass down the hallway to your shared bedroom. Then…you can hear him pleasing other women in your bed. The ones he would love you on, on good days.

But no…he is with other women while the woman he should be with is withering away down the hall.

You didn’t scream, you should’ve. You know that now. You were scared he would kill you or those girls. You wouldn’t have been able to live with yourself if something happened to them because of you and your stupidity.

So you sucked it up.

It’s been two weeks. Yesterday had to be one of the worst days. You recall the rage burning like fire in his eyes. He was angry, more than usual. Something must’ve happened. Either way, there’s no excuse for what he did.

The cuts along your back sting like hell. You begged him to stop, and it was a mistake. You should’ve let him beat you till it was out of his system for the night. If it’s even possible, he got angrier. He threw you into the bathroom counter, your back crashing into the mirror, causing it to shatter agains you. Your thigh had hit the faucet, creating a huge bruise on the back of it, but nothing hurt worse than the pain in your heart.

“Pathetic slut,” he snapped before walking out, locking the door behind him.

You sit on the floor only a day later, staring at yourself through the glossy flooring. A large shard of glass sat next to you, your eyes wander to it ever so often. It tempts you. Taunts you like a clear voice in your head.

“Do it.” It would say.

Then you would hear the sound of his voice. Familiar, warm, and inviting. Your heart aches. You miss him.

You can see him at the elevator, waiting for it to open while he looks at you.

“You’re strong. Remember that.”

You wonder why you pushed him away. Why you don’t let yourself trust the one man, that still lives, that would never hurt you.

A sob racks through your body as you pick up the large piece of the mirror and throw it across the room. An aggravated scream leaves you as you stand up with trembling legs.

How could I let this happen? Why didn’t I ask for help? The abuse has gone on for three years.

Your throughts were only “why” and “what if’s.”

He’s taken everything from you. Ripped you from your friends, your old life. You didn’t even notice at the time. You just needed someone. You followed him blindly. He told you you only needed him. Nothing - no one else.

I lost myself trying to please him.

You decided you're done letting him win. You're done letting him control your life. Your choices were dying here in this bathroom helplessly, or die trying to get out. You chose the latter.

You searched around the room in a haste, looking for anything to break the doorknob off. Your eyes trained on the top of the toilet. You take it off, arms falling at the weight. You are weak from the two weeks with no food, but you still find it in yourself to raise it over your head and lm it down in the knob.

You weren’t sure the exact time, but Kade would be home soon. So you knew you had to hurry

One hit didn’t seem to do it, so you raise it again and with a grunt, you use all your strength to slam it back down again. Your mouth falls open in surprise when the knob falls to the floor with a loud clanking noise.

It took you a moment, but you dropped the lid and rushed out of the bathroom. You made your way to the home phone, picking it up with shaky hands.

You're hit with a wave of dizziness, but you still dial the number you now know by heart. You were filled with hope when he answered after a couple of rings.

“Halstead.”

“JJ?”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone for a second, but soon he repeats your name.

“I want out. P-Please help me,” you beg, tears streaming down your face as you pathetically spike.

“Address. I need an address.”

The sound of the front door unlocking catches your attention. Your body goes ridged, frozen in place.

Jay repeats your name a couple of times.

“No. No,” you mutter as you begin to back away.

“Hey! What’s going on? I need an address, sweetheart.”

You somehow manage to tell him the address with a, “please hurry,” at the end. You hang up, throwing the phone to the side. You're filled with dread as Kade stumbles into the room, pulling at his tie. You're starting to regret what you just did.

Kade narrows his eyes, ripping his tie from his neck.

“How the hell did you get out?”

He stalks towards you, and although your first instinct is to run, you stay put. You're done taking the abuse.

“I’m done, Kade. We’re done.” You stand your ground, head held high and a new found confidence in your words. He laughs. It’s evil and sickening.

“We’re done? I say when we’re done!” He exclaims, his hand rising and connecting with your face before you had the chance to move. You fall to the floor from the power of the slap. Although you act confident and strong, you're weak. Two weeks without food would be the cause. It didn’t help that you were still in pain from the most recent beating.

You let out a cry as he pulls your hair back with a huff. “When will you learn?” He asked, pulling your head back so you were facing him.

“You look pathetic,” he laughs. You're slapped in the face once more before being dragged towards the kitchen by your throat. You grabbed at him, your instincts kicking in.

“God, your stupid,” he spat, shoving you into the table. Your eyes widen as you feel your skirt, the same one you’ve worn for two weeks now, being pulled around your hips. You felt hopeless now. You only hoped Jay would be here soon.

“At least you're good for something.” You heard him mutter before the sound of his zipper being undone filled your ears. You clamped your legs together and attempted to move, but it was no use. He overpowered you easily. You cried softly as he moved closer and held you down with a deadly grip on your bruised and cut back.

There’s a knock on the door that paused Kade’s actions. He hissed and pulled away, fixing himself.

“Who the hell did you call? Did you call someone?”

The look of fury in his eyes was enough to have you cowering in fear. A scream rips from your throat as he grabs you by your hair again.

“CPD! Open up!” You heard his familiar voice. The same voice you heard as you laid on the bathroom floor.

Kade’s grip on you tightens. “I’m going to kill you, you little bitch.”

A/N: Small cliffhanger? Yep. Chapter 3 should be out Tusedsy! If you want added to the Saviors taglist let me know!

@miranada0102 @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @kelelas-life

(Not sure why some of these didn’t work.)

#chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #jay halstead #jay halstead imagines #jay halstead x reader #one chicago #detective jay halstead #jay halstead one shots #chicago pd x reader #dom jay halstead

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potter-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Getting Drunk With Fred Weasley

Prompt: getting drunk w/ your boyfriend Fred would include + mini blurbs

Warning: drinking, swearing, and some suggestive wording

Word Count: 2.2k

Notes: n/a

Parties are not an uncommon event in the Gryffindor common room

Alcohol and drink mixtures of all sorts are being poured left and right every weekend

Most weekend you have a drink or two while catching up with your friends after a busy week of school

Other weekends you choose the path of getting plastered alongside your boyfriend off smuggled liquor and bottle of beer

On these night in particular,

Fred does not let you out of his sight

At all

Unless of course Lee challenges him to a beer pong match then he’ll carefully usher you over the couch where he can keep an eye on you while he’s playing

Has to pause the match like 20 times to chase after you and lead you over to his side “Y/n! You know you can’t out drink Seamus- he’s Irish! C’mon, come watch me kick George and Lee’s ass. They’re so bad it takes two of them to even manage a winning shot yet somehow they still suck!”

Loves it when you cheer him on

Is constantly glancing over to reassure himself you haven’t run off again

Your distraction is heightened in this state

So he feels the need to be your second set of eyes

Which had come in handy many a times

Like when Ron dared you to touch the burning fire while he was wasted on dragon barrel brandy

“Don’t be a pussy, Y/n. Swipe your hand real fast and you won’t even feel a thing-” “Y/n, pull your hand away from that fire, love. Ron, what the fuck? Are you trying to set my girlfriend up in flames? Angel, Ron is an idiot, you know that, don’t do anything he says again.” “Hey!”

And the time when you all were playing strip poker and Fred quite literally threw himself on top of your body to cover your chest when George teased you to take your bra off and your hands reached back for the clasps

(( he bitched at George for five minutes straight for that suggestion ))

Fred knew you were not one to back down from a challenge, especially when drunk and not considering the consequences or regret that would follow

So he always made sure you never embarrassed yourself too much or did anything you’d be wanting to take back come morning

During any Gryffindor party, Fred is the life of it

When he’s not preoccupied fawning over you, he’s hopping around with George seeking out trouble

The man throws back liquor like its water

Claims he knows his limits, but he really doesn’t

He is a touchy drunk

Hands brushing through your hair as you chat on the couch

Arms wrapped around your shoulder as you laugh along with your friends

Fingers laced in yours whenever you’re near

He craves your touch even more so when the liquor taints his veins

Let’s be real, Fred is not exactly the type of boyfriend to try to get you to stop drinking

He still makes sure you’re safe and not over drinking but,

Most of the times,

He’s the one pouring the shots for you

And mixing the drinks

But he always knows when to stop, and when you’ve had enough to drink

He tries to mentally keep note of how many drinks you've had but loses track once he reaches about five on his own end

Sometimes he’ll silently swap out your glass of whiskey for a glass of pumpkin juice

It’s obvious to Fred that he made the right choice when he watched as you sipped gleefully on the juice, not making a single comment on the dramatic change in taste

In these moments he begins to prepare himself for a night of babysitting you

And he’s so sweet in helping you on the nights when you go an inch- or ten- overboard

Carries you up to your bed and helps you change out of your clothes and into new ones for bed

He gets you wipes to take of your makeup, if you’re wearing any, and he’ll sit you between his legs on your bed while he brushes through your hair

After you’re properly ready for bed, Fred makes sure to set a glass of water on your nightstand incase you get thirsty and a bag of crackers if you get hungry

Stays the night without question when you ask

Other times he stays regardless of if you do or don’t

Your roommates don’t mind seeing as he takes care of you meaning they don’t have to

He’ll lay on his back and usher you over to place you head on his chest

His fingertips will soothingly trail up and down you back, lulling you into a deep sleep with the rhythmic motion

Tries his best to make sure you fall asleep first

Drunk Fred really has no control over his sleep habits and has a tendency to pass out from sudden exhaustion at any moment

One second him and George are fucking around with partygoers, supply them with different products of theirs, and causing pure chaos

The next second Fred was snoozing away while he laid on the couch with his head in your lap

Then he was back up an going again

Like a toddler on a sugar high

He’s such a giggly drunk

Kisses to the tip of your nose

Always smiling over at you and complimenting you

“Have I told you how breathtaking you look tonight?” “Only ten times, but I’m okay with elven.” “Let’s make it twelve, you looks absolutely stunning- so pretty, and all mine.”

The boy can’t help it, you make him feel weightless with happiness sober and the feeling only intensifies when he’s been drinking

There are nights when Fred can’t seem to taste the scorching burn of the liquor anymore after about six shots and it these nights where George and yourself are left dragging him up the stairs

George will beg you to stay the night because he can’t handle Fred’s drunken rambling about how much he misses you

And you agree because, how could you say no to Fred’s adorable puppy dog eyes and grabby hands longing for you to cuddle with him

If you two are both drunk, you’ll stay up talking- or rather whispering- under his comforter

He’ll stumble over his words and jumps from topic to topic in the blink of an eye

Uncontrollable giggles as he whispers- or rather stutters- out the most confusing jokes you’ve ever heard

“Angel, angel…” “Yes, Freddie?” “What happens when a toad’s car breaks down?” “I dunno…” “It gets froged!” “I’m sorry, come again? Isn’t it meant to be the frog’s car that breaks down and it gets ‘toad’...not ‘froged’?”

But he’s out like a light before you can get an explanation

He breathes like darth vader when he’s in his drunken slumber

Yet its somehow comforting in an odd way

Like it reminds you that he’s there holding you

And also that he’s still alive, which is surprising at times with the amount of drinks he consumes in one night

If you think Fred acts reckless sober, he thinks he’s invincible when he’s drunk which is even worse

He’ll agree to almost anything

If Ron were to tell him he bet Fred wouldn’t jump from the Astrology Tower all the way down to the courtyard? Fred would do it just in spite of him

The only time this attitude of his had gotten him into trouble was when Fred, George and Lee came up with the grand idea to go down the boy’s dormitory staircase on mattresses

Fred, being the brilliant man he is, decided to go first

You had been gossiping away in the common room to Hermione about a new Muggle actor the two of you had seen in a film when you heard the loud crashing, followed by the voice you loved so much groaning in agony

By the time you reached the opening to the stairwell, George and Lee were aiding Fred down the stone steps, carefully avoiding his ankle which had been twisted in an inhuman position

Madam Pomfrey surprisingly kept hum about Fred’s intoxication and instead scolded him for hours on end about his reckless, mindless choice to try to slide down, winding, steep, stone steps

Once news reached the professors the nest morning, McGoagall dismissed 40 points from Gryffindor for the incident

Using your mattress to surf down the twirling stairwell has since been prohibited

On a separate occasion Fred had accident lit the edge of the curtain on fire

You can always tell when he’s reached that level by the volume in his tone

It tends to get deeper the more intoxicated he becomes

And his words slowly slur together into a string of blabber

Mostly compliments, sweet words, and sometimes suggestive ones as well

Fred gets a bit more… forward when he’s got that liquid courage soaring through him

His hands will start to roam slowly from around your waist to your lower back, then resting on your bum

He gets turned on watching you play beer pong for some reason

Especially when you win

Maybe it’s the view he’s graced with when you bend to bounce the pin pong ball

Or the feistiness that arises when the match gets hot

It’s more than enticing for him

Fred can feel his frame get stiffer everytime you bend across the table to retrieve the cup and chug the beer from it

When the round has ceased and you’re declared champion yet again, Fred steps forward to pull you in for a hug

As he gives you a kiss on the cheek, he whispers,

“Good girl! Now if you beat George again I’ll give you a special surprise later tonight, angel.”

Which makes your knees weak like jell-o as your frame pushes into his for support

It doesn’t help that you can feel just how excited he is through the denim of his jeans

Fred dips his head to plant a trail of wet, teasing kisses along the skin of your warm neck until George was groaning and pleading for you to start the match

You practically shook for the entirety of the game, still managing to sink almost every shot into a cup forcing George to drink for the majority of it

He ended up tapping out once you nailed the seventh cup in a row and kept your winning streak alive due to his need to find a trash can immediately

You stopped there to join Fred by his side as he smiled to you, clearly pleased that you won

“Looks like someone is getting rewarded tonight.”

His arm draped around your shoulder as you leaned into his side, your cheeks flaring from the mass of bodies but mostly from Fred’s suggestive promise

He only forced you to suffer through the party for another ten minutes or so before pouring one last shot for the both of you, then nearly pushing you up the winding stairs to his dorm

Lets just say he certainly fulfilled on his promise- more than once that night

Loves it when you sit in his lap when you’re on the couch together

Whispers dirty secrets into your ear

Drunk Fred leaves hickies under the clothes

He’s not the type to care who’s around, he’ll try to slide his hand up your skirt in front of nearly anyone when he’s inebriated

“Fred- you’re brother is sitting right there, stop it!” “Shhhh, angel. He’s not even watching, right George?” “Right, Fred.” “See?”

To which you glare dangerous at him as you place his hand back in his lap, but Fred continues to smirk in amusement

It’s like you’re a preschool teacher constantly having to tell a child to keep their hands to themselves, Fred just refuses to listen

Fred doesn’t necessarily get jealous of other guys

He trusts you and he’s confident enough in your relationship not to feel threatened by other guys

However he is possessive af over you when he’s been drinking

In a sweet way tho

Literally wants all your time and attention when he’s drunk

If you don’t feel like dancing, he’ll ask you to come watch him dance

When you say you need to use the bathroom, he’ll ask a million times if you want him to come with

If George places a bet against Fred in a game of cards, Fred will drag you over to sit next to him as Seamus shuffles the deck and prepares the table

He’ll show you his cards and tell you to pick one

Even though he knows you’re completely unaware of the rules to the game, he loves the smile of excitement that appears on your face when he lets you

And in the rare times that you do say no, he works his magic with those big doe eyes and pouty lip until you say yes

It brings him comfort when you’re by his side

Your nights end the same each day, wrapped in his arms listening to the relaxing thump of his heart as the two of you doze off, both silently dreading the awaiting hangover than would surely greet you first thing in the morning, but you wouldn’t want it any other way

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bts-sierra · 3 years ago

Text

Extraordinary Life

Namjoon x Reader

Requested Prompt #10 Stargazing

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist

Requests are open | Please refer to my Prompt List

Jumping fences and wading through a foot of snow in a football field was not on your agenda for Christmas Eve but drowning in alcohol at the bar across from it most definitely was.

“This is so stupid, why did you think it was better to cut across?” you curse at Namjoon.

Probably also wasn’t the best idea to do a couple shots before you left for the bar, but as counterintuitive as that might seem, it was tradition and it kept you warm.

“It’s freezing cold, I thought it would get us there faster,” he reasons. Typical Joon.

Both of you regretted your life choices quite often, but at least you both suffered the consequences together.

Namjoon had always been everything that you were not. He was smart, hardworking, funny, responsible, and you; you were a lot of things but none of them. Recklessness had been the only base of your friendship; getting into trouble always, wreaking havoc since you can remember.

He lets out a sigh as he hops over the last fence. Easy for his tall-ass self, you on the other hand were struggling as your shoe kept slipping off the icy metal you aimed to climb for the last time.

“Fuck, argh,” you exclaim as Namjoon tries to control his laughter.

“Here let me help,” he finally offers as he bends over to pick you up, like a child. How embarrassing.

“No, stop, that tickles.” You giggle, shoving his hands away from you.

“You’re such a handful,” he states as you pout at him in reaction.

“That’s not how I meant it; you know that” he explains as he climbs onto the railing of the fence.

You moved out of the way slightly, allowing him space to land the jump, only it was a moment too late.

Goddamn Joon. He could be so impatient sometimes, unnecessarily fiddling or moving when he could’ve remained still. Especially on such slippery surfaces, you’d think he’d be a little more careful than usual.

In a few seconds, your back was met with the snow, Namjoon’s body hovering just above yours as he holds his position making sure he didn’t hurt you.

“My life flashed before my eyes for a second,” you say as you slowly stop squinting your eyes shut.

“Are you alright?”

You hear the panic in his voice but you’re unable to control your laughter. Probably an effect of the alcohol kicking in, making you feel giddy.

You fling your arms around his neck, pulling him to your neck as you hugged him tight.

“I’m fine.” You struggle to get your words out in between laughs.

“Are you sure? You’re laughing like a heathen. Did you hit your head?” he asks as he moves himself off you.

He grabs onto your face, moving it in all sorts of directions to examine any injuries but it only makes you feel dizzy.

“I didn’t fall that hard, but I wish you saw the look on your face.”

“Very funny. And here I was worried for absolutely nothing.” He’s pouting now but he’s just so fucking adorable when he’s upset.

You roll over onto him, “Oh we’re upset now, are we?”

You didn’t always baby Joon, just whenever you were intoxicated. You forbade him to ever bring it up when you were sober and he never dared to, afraid that you would then stop. He loved it, adored it even but he’d never admit it to you.

His face naturally lifts into a smile, the dents in his cheeks more prominent now. You stick your finger to the indent, squishing his cheek further inwards.

“You have the most perfect smile,” you say.

He ignores it, as he normally does whenever he receives any compliment from you. Instead, he fights your hands as he moves you beside him. Turning around, he watches you as you now focus on the little specks of snow that fell from the sky. Your attention span was always so amusing to Namjoon, how you ever managed to be such a capable human being was beyond him.

He lays back down to join you in gazing up at the sky. It was a full moon, and the light it cast illuminated every inch of land beneath the both of you. The sky was painted in your favorite shade of blue, and in the far distance, Venus burned bright.

“Do you think we all have someone made for us?”

Your question comes suddenly, but it’s a common occurrence. You loved the night sky, no matter the time of year, but every time you let yourself be consumed by it and the more distant you felt from your surroundings.

“I’m not meant for this mundane life, but nothing about life itself is any extraordinary, don’t you think?”

Namjoon chuckles in response. Your attention span was… something.

You frown at him. “What?”

“Nothing, of course you don’t think so.” His voice drops before he continues. “How could you when you’re what’s extraordinary in life.”

He mutters it to himself, almost inaudible. But it doesn’t go missed by you, especially because you’re so hyper aware of him at all times.

You and Joon didn’t know anything else but friendship, and one hell of a friendship it is. But it was also in moments like this where you realize what a thin and fragile boundary you guys had laid out for it.

You curl yourself into him, his arm coming around you to pull you in by habit.

“You’re right, how could life not be extraordinary when we were supposed to be at the bar over fifteen minutes ago, but instead, here we are. What would I do without you?” you tease.

You prop yourself up, intending to place a soft kiss on his cheek, except you should know by now that Namjoon could never stay put.

He scoffs. “You’re one to ta-” he gets cut off when your lips find his, by accident.

Your eyes go wide, shocked and a little embarrassed as you pull yourself away from him.

“Fuck, can you not stay still for a minute?” you yell as you wipe your mouth against your sleeve.

“Oh, come on, you act like we’ve never kissed,” he makes fun of you.

But with the way your heart picks up its pace, it’s far from funny. Of course, you laugh nonetheless, trying to brush it off.

“Don’t need a reminder, thanks,” you finally bring yourself to respond.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” he whines.

It wasn’t. Not one bit. In fact, it was the complete opposite. It was the best kiss of your life and you owed it to a dumb game of truth or dare played a few months ago.

“Unless it was in which case, I intend to change that.”

His voice sounds sultry, almost as if he was challenging you. Or himself? At this point, you couldn’t keep up.

Suddenly, his hand found its place on the side of your hip as he pulled you closer towards him. His other hand, a lot warmer than you expected, slides onto your jaw to tilt it towards him.

Your breath hitches as you attempt to calm your racing mind but to no avail. Before you could form any coherent explanation or thought, Joon’s lips found yours.

Reflexively, you close your eyes and let your lips move against his. His tongue swipes your lip each time his mouth closes in on yours, allowing you to taste the bitterness of the beer he’d drank. He pulls you onto him, attempting to deepen the kiss.

You separate from him trying to catch your breath momentarily before finding his lips again, kissing him back one last time before forcing yourself off him. If you hadn’t stopped now, you don’t think you ever could. You were in too deep, threading a dangerously thin line here.

“You won’t believe how much I’ve wanted to do that ever since that party,” Namjoon states.

The night seems a lot quieter now. The rest of the world, non-existent.

“You just like to argue your point with me,” you say. In no way does it acknowledge his statement or respond to it.

“That wasn’t it. It was finally a good excuse to do this, but I’ve been wanting to for a while now,” he admits.

“What are you saying?”

“I thought I could put my feelings for you aside, but it gets harder each day. I really like you, Y/n, I’ve liked you for a long while now.”

You remain quiet. What could you even say?

“Say something,” he prods.

“You’re drunk, you’re not even going to remember this,” you state as a tinge of guilt fills you up.

“Barely. I mean it, y/n. And I know you don’t feel the same abou-”

“You’re going to be the smartest dumb person ever if you complete that sentence,” you warn.

You bring yourself to face him as he remains clueless.

“You’re so dumb, wow. I mean that I- I like you too,” you sigh.

“I swear to God if you think I’m joking and are just playing along,” Namjoon warns.

Catching him off guard, you grab at his jacket, pressing your body to his as you kiss him. It was soft and quick but enough to convey your feelings, you’d hoped.

“Shit,” he exhales as he lays back down with you, looking at the night sky that changed his ordinary life.

You can’t control how undeniably happy you are. Everything about this moment was nothing short of extraordinary.

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

Text

earned it [07]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. explicit smut, pool sex, slight angst, i miss naoya :(, mafia business, mentions of blood, lots of drama, mentions of death and murder

note. IDEK ANYMORE. lmao anyways do you guys want faster updates or do you guys want to wait? i can finish the series next week and then we can move on to white lies 😈

series masterlist

The three of you were seated back at your tables, where the whole dancing fiasco had thankfully ended. Satoru noticed nothing of your behavior – either he was really clueless, or you were a damn good actor – the guy was much too invested with the files Nanami was currently showing.

For a moment, you let yourself loosen as you took a deep breath. The account was much more important than whatever Nanami was scheming.

“I think I may have found where the real money is, or treasure, we should say, since none of us can really figure out what the Zen’ins might be hiding. And from the looks of it, considering Naoya had no idea about what his family kept prior to his death, this is something only his elders wanted to know about,” Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, sliding a photo of an unsuspecting white manor that you hadn’t seen in a long time. “And it’s been right under our nose the whole time.”

“That’s one of our islands,” you replied with a furrowed brow, “Are you saying you traced the source back there? But that’s impossible, we haven’t used that island for years and even Naoya told me he was going to sell it because it was of no use to us. It’s not on commercial waters and there’s no local people around either. That island is in the middle of nowhere.”

“This is exactly why it’s the best place to hide things – because no one would ever suspect this seemingly harmless middle of nowhere could contain their assets.”

Satoru, who’d kept silent the whole time, inched closer to you. His cologne wafting off to you eased you for a moment – purely because it was familiar – and even though you despised saying it, you were thankful he was here. Currently, the blond man posed a bigger threat, the difference being that Nanami actually had leverage against you while you had more control over Satoru.

You sighed. If Naoya was here, things would’ve been so much better. He never lost his composure in figuring things out on his own. But now that he was gone, now that he’d never be coming back, you had be responsible for his sake, but mostly for yours.

“Take a look at this. The nearest land is a small, uncharted city from Brazil’s outskirts. I’ve been illegally transporting weaponry and firearms somewhere near there since our family started the business – it’s the easiest place to sneak in things without getting caught. All you need to do is pay a few fishermen and they’ll easily transport our load from one place to another, no questions asked,” Satoru announced, seemingly deep in thought as he rubbed his chin. “It would make sense if the Zen’in clan elders found this place useful too. It’s basically a hot site for criminals.”

“But we don’t operate this way. The Zen’in elders are too prideful to handle transactions like this. They would’ve chosen a more…discreet yet formal way of handling things.”

“How does an underwater passage sound?” Nanami pushed the other photo aside to reveal a blurry snap of what seemed like a tunnel under the sea. On the surface, it looked just like an abandoned rig, but it stretched too long, the exterior already covered in mold and seaweed. “About 80 years ago, the Zen’in Clan leader at that time was often heavily targeted by their enemies in business that they preferred to travel under the sea. If my theory is correct, right under that island would be another base of some sort that allows the clan leaders move from one country to another while remaining undetected.”

“So that’s how they easily sent their own shit overseas…”

“It would be a very sound conclusion to assume so,” Nanami crossed his arms at Satoru’s musings, “However, that’s all I know. All I can tell you is where I last got the signal for the source – which is about seven years ago, and a few months right after Toji Zen’in was disowned by his family when Naobito took over. It would also be near around the time he met his wife and had his child, which would increase the possibilities that he may have stored something in this island for his son’s future. Again, it could be money, gold – we don’t really know,” he nodded your way, a sense of finality behind those blue eyes that had now looked so menacing when once it brought you comfort – reassurance. “How you get there is all up to you.”

Something didn’t feel right.

“If the elders really wanted to hide this place, they wouldn’t have passed the rights of the island into my inheritance when Naoya died. They surely wouldn’t have wanted me to find out about this.”

“I could think of two things,” Satoru proposed, “It’s either they trust your potential enough as the clan leader to replace Naoya, or they didn’t think you’d care anyway.”

You let his words sink in. The clan elders have never bothered much with you. They were too prideful about “saving face” and “keeping up images” that they couldn’t even let a word of insult slip past their lips under the belief they were above that. But you weren’t stupid; they had never approved of your marriage to Naoya. An outsider like you, suddenly becoming a part of their family when they could’ve had your husband marry a family friend?

They may have kept silent about their dislike to you, but one way or another, they were going to take action for it.

Knowing the Zen’ins, being a Zen’in, you knew there was one thing they hated the most: not being in control.

“Neither,” you finally concluded while mumbling down at your lap. The theory was hazy, incomplete, based only on mere emotions but slowly, you were coming together to piece it. You felt Satoru turn your way, his large hand caressing your knee as if coaxing the words out of you. “It’s neither. Naoya’s elders…they never liked me. It’s been made pretty clear to me that I’m dispensable without my husband, and I will never be a Zen’in in their eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if they asked me to give up all my inheritance from Naoya because I’m not related to them by blood.”

The silence in the table stretched.

No matter how grandiose the hotel restaurant may be, you felt suffocated in that seat. How didn’t you realize it sooner? You were in a land that stretched past your territory, with both men accompanying you people you couldn’t wholeheartedly trust, while your husband rotted away back at home – probably covered in dust and not even given a proper burial like he deserved.

There was only one way out of this, to put an end to everything. It would prove to be a daunting task, but you didn’t have a choice. No, in fact, this was your only choice if you wanted to survive.

Satoru’s voice softened upon seeing the grimness of how you turned mum. “I’ll follow you wherever you go. I promise to help you in finding out whatever is in there,” he met your eyes; yours filled with contempt, with fear, with desperation, and his filled with regret. “It’s the least I could do…after everything I’ve done to you.”

You took a deep breath.

You couldn’t lie to yourself. There was no way you could trust him with his empty promises. He’d shown enough times that he wasn’t a man of his word, and you’d be a fool to fall for it again. However, Nanami’s glance was curious and suspecting, hiding his true colors with an innocent gesture of sipping his wine. He may seem unbothered and only here to ‘help’, but this man was cunning, possibly more so than Naoya could ever be, and one wrong move would be similar to stepping on a land mine.

Satoru received no response from you, and soon the three of you were standing outside the hotel’s lobby to escort Nanami back where he came from. The dinner was tense, so much so that you’d unknowingly been clutching Satoru’s bicep the whole time.

He tapped your shoulder, bringing you back to life as he gestured to his phone. “Sorry, it’s Geto.”

“Oh,” you muttered and stepped away from him, feeling your heart sink in your chest as you watched him retreat behind the glass doors. Beside you, Nanami snickered.

“Made up your mind, agent?” he taunted, “This is your final chance to prove yourself. Gather enough intel for us to intrude whatever that mighty clan is hiding underneath that island, surrender Gojo to us, and we’ll give you everything as promised.”

You faced him with fiery eyes, prepared for whatever he’d throw your way when he showed you that cursed red coin again. Realizing its power, the true meaning it held, you immediately shut your lips. It must’ve satisfied to know he was the one in charge here, and how could he not be when your life was literally at the palm of his hands, your days growing more numbered if you didn’t follow everything he asked for?

If you had just…if you had just done everything the Organization had asked you for, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t have felt this torn.

Nanami flipped the coin before tucking it into his pocket, sending one last salute your way. He hailed a cab and disappeared afterwards, leaving you alone to ponder over the consequences of your actions, your emotions. For the first time in his life, Naoya had lied to you.

He wasn’t correct when he said you were strong.

Because after all this time, you still held onto something that you should’ve let go of a long time ago, and you had nothing but your weak, sensitive, hopeless heart to blame for. Said hurdle appeared not long afterwards, his touch warm on your shoulder as he gazed at the empty spot beside you.

“Oh, Nanami left,” he noted, turning your shoulders to him until you were completely exposed. There was no more hiding from him, or more like you didn’t have enough energy to. You felt dull, tiredness lining your eyes and lips pressed into a flat line. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Ten days. That was how much you’ve wasted your time here in Milan, and you weren’t even remotely close to figuring things out. Your resources were much more limited the farther you were from the Zen’in Estate, and your lawyer was a family one, meaning they held more loyalty to the actual Zen’ins instead of law-affiliated people like you were.

Simply put, you were all alone to solve this by yourself.

Satoru promised to help, but he kept disappearing in the morning along with Geto. You never asked where they went or what they did; it simply didn’t matter anymore.

You would only spend hours locked in your room as you researched everything you could on your private island near Brazil. Just like Satoru said, it seemed like the perfect place to hide things for the spot seemed remote enough to offer privacy for the family’s getaway. You could somewhat recall Naoya proposing once to take you there for your honeymoon, but business got in the way, and it wasn’t like you truly trusted him then to spend such an intimate with him that you said no.

Sighing, you put all the papers away. Not even a single clue led you to what could be possibly be there, but there was an underwater passage. The fact the Zen’ins was capable of building that made you wonder just what the extent of their powers and influence stretched to, and you contemplated for a bit if you could hold that same ability now that you had his name.

Whatever was there, you would look for it.

Your mission was clear – the success of it would determine the fate of your life. Find out what they’re hiding, surrender Satoru Gojo to the Organization, and then everything would be over.

It sounded simple, yet your heart knew it wasn’t. Naoya died with the confidence of his trust over you, the trust you worked so hard to earn. But wasn’t that point? You needed him to trust you for you to be able to pull this mission off, but things happened, emotions and conscience got in the way, and you banged your knuckles on the table until your ring throbbed on your finger.

You just wanted it all to end. You never meant to hurt Naoya, never meant to betray anyone, but it fucking pissed you off that Naoya wasn’t the real problem. He wasn’t the one holding you back.

With not much thought to your next actions, you slipped past the guards and into the pool that had long been closed since 10PM. Being at your room’s tub reminded you of memories you’d rather forget, and you slowly undid your robe and stepped out of your underwear before dipping in the cold, freezing water.

It felt good. It may have been temporary, but the numbing bite of the water helped you feel more placated. Even for a little while, it was nice to not worry about anything. There were no titles, no mafia drama, no anything, just you and the water that you would’ve easily fooled yourself to be simply enjoying your little trip in Milan until –

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You had me worried sick,” You sighed. Of course. Opening your eyes, you raised a brow as Satoru towered over you, a standard hotel towel in his arms. He’d change out of his suit and into cotton shorts and a shirt this time around, possibly on his way to sleep when he realized the room was empty. With no energy to deal with him, you swam away from the man, earning a groan in response. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve been acting weird ever since Nanami came. Listen, if this is about that island, you don’t have to worry too much about anything. I have enough people and resources to help you in every step of the way.”

You ignored him. After everything that happened, what was there to talk about anymore? Even if you told him everything, he might not understand.

So you swam in the middle of the pool, thankful that it was dark enough from the maintenance shutting the lights off that Satoru struggled to find you. However, you’d underestimated him because soon you heard the splashing of the water, and you were harshly tugged by the wrist before Satoru cornered you at the edge of the pool.

He was breathing hard; both of you were, and tried to push past his chest, only to be met with a solid plane of muscle that wouldn’t budge. You sighed and turned away from him, covering your exposed chest with your arms.

“Whatever Naoya is looking for…you’ll find it, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m serious,” the scorn in his tone had been so biting you turned back to him, about to hit him with something, scold him for something, but your words died down in your throat before you even had the chance to.

Satoru hadn’t been demanding. His face, illuminated by the moonlight, made his azure eyes twinkle like stardust exploding. Once in your life, you found so much comfort into staring at such beauty, but that was when everything was still a perfect lie. Funny how the truth ruined everything for its darkness, and you could only look back at him weakly, throat running dry from all the emotions that threatened to pour out of you.

Regret and desperation was written all over his face.

“Please,” he rested his forehead on yours, eyes closed as he mumbled, “You’re not alone in this. I don’t want to ask for much because I know I don’t deserve it, but please at least understand you don’t have to solve everything on your own. You’re not…you’re not alone. I’m here now.”

“When you left me,” your voice cracked, “It’s because you thought I wouldn’t love you anymore if I found out your true nature,” Satoru opened his eyes, anxiety swimming in those eyes that had once been so sweet. Perhaps he still held that sweetness now, albeit it was less tender and more cautious as he waited for you to continue. “If I told you about every sin I’ve committed, the name of each person I killed and everything I’ve done, would you stay with me? Or would you leave me again, only this time it’s because you think I’m no longer someone you could love?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t expect you to,” was all you said before you felt a tear prick the back of your eyes. You didn’t want him to see, god, you wanted to disappear in that moment you couldn’t think of anything else. Crashing your lips to his, you brought him down by the back of his neck to hide the tears freely falling from your face.

He froze for a split second before he eagerly pushed back, clenching the pool edges with his hands so hard his knuckles turned white. You were panting, moaning in his mouth as he pressed you harder against the edge, skin to skin, breath to breath, soul to soul.

Threading your hands to his hair, you grinded down on his shorts where he was already beginning to grow hard. Satoru groaned inside your mouth from your teasing but made no move to stop to – after all, why would he want to stop? It had been years, seven fucking years, and even you wouldn’t want to stop. It was wrong, it was dirty, it was immoral – but you needed this. You needed this more than ever.

Satoru’s hands tickled your waist as he squeezed them harsher than he intended, his calloused fingers travelling until he was kneading your breasts. You pulled away from him, head thrown back to rest on the edge.

And it was romantic.

The moon had never been so big, sprinkles of star shining in the vast darkness, the scene just perfect for two lovers in a getaway from the harshness of life. You knew it wasn’t real and the spell would break sooner than later, but did it matter? He rolled your beaded nipples into his fingers before he ducked down, lips suctioned to suck heavy bruises on the sensitive patch of skin on your neck that had you twitching in his hold.

Along with your moans, you cried harder. From heartbreak, from regret, from guilt; there was no turning back from this.

“Satoru, please, please, please. Make me feel better, make me feel good, I just want to forget everything.”

He nodded eagerly against your neck, letting your eager hands help him push his shorts down before his cock sprang free. His length grazed your lower abdomen for a moment, though he didn’t waste any time in entering your hole. You gritted your teeth at the intrusion, nails dug so hard in his shoulders that he bled.

The both of you had your foreheads connected, noses brushing and breaths mixing as you moaned and he sighed, eyes shut tight from finally being engulfed in your warmth.

“Right there, ‘Toru, oh fuck.”

“F-fuck,” he hitched one of your legs to wrap around his waist, “You’re still so tight after all this time,” Satoru praised, molding his lips with yours once again. He picked up his pace and watched as you desperately clung from one surface to another – his shoulders, his hair, the edge of the pool, flailing your arms each time his deep thrusts knocked the wind out of you – breasts bouncing as he bounced you on his cock.

“You look so fucking beautiful – my sweet, sweet angel. I missed you, missed you so fucking much.”

You didn’t say anything. No words were needed to be exchanged; actions spoke louder than words. At least right now, you could promise you wouldn’t lie.

Pulling him down for another kiss, you bit down on his bottom lip to muffle your moans, too speechless at each movement of his dick grazing past your walls. Fuck, he still felt so good, still knew your body way too well and your pussy hugged him so tight like you didn’t ever want to let go.

But you knew you had to, even as he came inside you and brought you back to your room, uncaring of the dripping mess you’ve both made before he locked the door.

You forgot how many hours you spent underneath him writhing in his bed. He took you each way he wanted – knees folded beside your head, on your side where he whispered all the filthy things he’d been wanting to do to you while he took you from behind, or your head squished on the pillow as he repeatedly smacked your ass, pulling your ass cheeks apart to praise you on how you took him so well. Satoru didn’t stop; you knew what you were getting into the moment you pulled him into you, that his sex drive was insane and he’d take long to tire himself out.

By the time the first shy fingertips of the sunlight extending across the horizon arrived, you were emptily staring at the window, Satoru fast asleep beside you.

It was time.

Silently, you pulled his arm away from you and quickly got dressed. He seemed to still be deep in slumber, and you carried the only bag previously packed with everything you might need. You were on the process of wearing your stilettos when he stirred awake, sleepily eyeing you from the bed you both devoted yourselves to in pleasuring one another.

“Where are you going?”

“Away,” you answered, tight-lipped. “From you.”

“Why?”

“Because…I lied,” you inhaled sharply, gloved hands frozen on the golden knobs.

Just open it, you screamed at yourself, walk away before it’s too late.

But you couldn’t move, pathetic that even after everything Naoya had worked so hard for, you still remained a slave to your past.

“No matter how much I hate everything you’ve done to me, I can’t bring myself to forget I once loved you. Maybe I still do – I don’t know. But what I do know is that I’m not as strong as I thought I was,” you cried, losing grip on the bag before it fell. You watched emptily as all the contents poured out – your money, your clothes, your phone, your ring – it all served as a reminder of who you were, of who you’d forgotten to be, of who you were supposed to be.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I don’t have enough strength to kill you.”

“Hey, angel,” he cooed, reaching you in three long strides before he caged you in his arms. Satoru was so warm, so strong, and the safety he provided you with only made you cry harder. You wanted to hate him, wanted to keep lying yourself since you’d been doing a great job at doing that for the past seven years, but it wasn’t that easy. Deep down…you still harbored the most miniscule affection, and that enough was capable of destroying you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” you whispered brokenly as you banged a weak fist to his chest, “Everything is wrong.”

Finavice Pharmaceuticals didn’t disappoint.

You were beyond impressed the moment you stepped through the door, a horde of eager chemists guiding you through the upper floors. Finavice was one of the biggest – if not the biggest – companies that were known for harboring the rarest or hard to get elements that not even you and Naoya could get your hands on.

Not by yourselves, anyway, so you took it upon yourself to strike a sponsorship to their research program in developing a cure to cancer under the guise of being an advocate to the improvement of the medical field.

Truthfully, you just wanted to please Naoya, show him you were useful and that he didn’t need to kill you. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and there you were, your prettiest smile plastered on as you scanned the towering buildings with unmasked interest.

“Here is the laboratory for the Finavice Pharmaceuticals where we test…”

“Mrs. Zen’in?”

The entire team stopped as a tall man, cloaked in a beige suit instead of a lab coat appearhed out of nowhere. Judging by how everyone had ducked their heads down and turned silent, you could only guess he must be the boss. Flashing your most charming smile, you hitched your bag higher up your arm. “Yes?”

“May I have a word with you?”

You fought the urge to sigh. His question was spoken much more of a statement that you weren’t really given a room to decline, and the young chemists gazed at you curiously under their lashes.

Not wanting to create a commotion that would lead into unwanted attention, you nodded, following the man through a set of double doors, guarded by two heavily armed men from the outside.

The man, who was Kento Nanami, the founder of Finavice himself leaned back into his seat as he made himself comfortable. “So you signed a contract with us two weeks ago to partner on our latest medicine, am I right? I’ve read over your proposals and I must say, they are rather interesting and innovative. I didn’t expect that a businessman’s wife would be a chemist who is interested in expanding to the pharmaceuticals as well. The Zen’ins has never been much invested in that.”

Gladly accepting the tea he’d slid your way, you made sure to clink the teaspoon against the porcelain as you played along. “People change, Mr. Kento. My husband and I’s goals are rather different from their former, traditional ones. Surely, steel exchange couldn’t support us for the rest of our lives.”

“I can’t say no to that. Kudos to you and your husband for your rather…ambitious shared goals then.”

Your hand froze on the utensil, and you narrowed your eyes at him in warning. “Are you implying we should not have trusted you with this, Mr. Kento?”

“No, I am merely letting you know that your act won’t fool me,” he chuckled, leaning forwards to rest his chin on his clasped knuckles, his blue eyes growing dark and serious. “I know what you and your husband’s family does. The Organization knows a lot more about your actions than you think you know we do. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re only here because we’re the only company who has access to an element you need for your drug, isn’t that the case, Mrs. Zen’in?”

Well…this was certainly unexpected. You’ve been effortlessly deceiving countless businessmen, government leaders and officials even, that this took you by your surprise. Two could play at this game.

Even if he saw through you long ago, it wouldn’t take much to grab his letter opener that was right beside you and puncture it through a jugular vein. If his guards came, you could easily take them down too. Today was one of those few moments you were thankful for Naoya’s hellish training.

But you didn’t want him to feel satisfied, so you leaned back into your seat and crossed your leg over the other.

“If you knew this whole time, why didn’t you kill me already? A lot of people wouldn’t miss the chance to do so.”

Nanami chuckled. “It’s because like you, I’m not just a pioneer. I, too, have my goals and loyalty laid out for someone else. Most specifically, the Organization, an international collaborative effort of stopping and reducing mafia movement for the safety of our people. Obviously, I’ve been assigned in the Yakuza Division, and it’s no coincidence I read through your file. You are, after all, one of our precious targets.”

You stared at him boredly. Why couldn’t he just get straight to the point?

“Is this a threat? I’m not sure it’s working.”

“Oh, no, I’m not threatening you,” he snatched your tea and took a long sip from it, and it was the first time you learned of his habit of concealing his curious gaze through drinking; a perfect act to seem inconspicuous.

“I am offering you a path to redemption. You may fool everyone, but I know an unhappy woman when I see one, Mrs. Zen’in, and I can tell you find no pleasure in the life you live – running errands for your criminal husband, constantly fearing for your life, wishing you’d just been a regular person like everyone else…” At the lack of response, he took it a gesture for him to continue, and he set the cup down, pushing his glasses right back up his nose. “The Organization has labeled you a target, but I think you’re more of a victim caught in a series of unfortunate events. I merely wish to save you from it.”

You guffawed in laughter at his last statement.

“You men really are ridiculous!” you slapped your palm on his table, losing every bit of that elegant composure to be perfected by a Zen’in wife. “Always preaching about saving me and protecting me – what actually are you pathetic losers even capable of?”

Much to your dismay, Nanami didn’t seem the least bit affected by your mockery.

“Please, don’t group me in with your husband and your former lover. Unlike them, I harbor no interest in you as a woman, I only want to fulfill my duty as an Agent and save you not because you’re a damsel in distress, but rather because…I could kill two birds with one stone,” his eyes shone in mischief, and you swallowed in discomfort as he gazed you up and down.

You’ve had enough experience with being seen as a meal, but this was different. Nanami was viewing you like you were a secret weapon he intended on using as much as he could to achieve his goals.

“You are a very convenient woman, Mrs. Zen’in. Similar to how your husband adores your abilities, I would like to take advantage of your connections. The only difference between me and them is that I can actually give you something money can’t even buy.”

“Such as?”

“A second chance at a normal life.”

“What makes you think I’ll accept your offer? I’m the wife of a mafia leader – my loyalty resides in him.”

“Only because you fear for your life,” he flashed you a red coin, crescents of a Latin quote scripted inside. Mori quam foedari – death before dishonor.

“Join the Organization, Y/N. With your connections, we could easily take down these families and protect the country. Hand over Satoru Gojo and Naoya Zen’in to us, and I promise the Organization will do everything in its power to give you the life you always wanted. A safe, normal one. No more worrying about being killed as you ride your car, no more beating yourself up as you make drugs to promise your usefulness to your husband and no more pretending you are someone who you’re not,” he flipped the coin between his fingers, and tantalized, you couldn’t keep your eyes off it. “Don’t you want that? You’d be able to live freely if you cooperate with us.”

You could hear the gears in your head turning. Part of you would’ve assumed this was a trap had you not known better, but Naoya taught you that if something was a trap, it would sound too easy, too good.

None of this was easy. It would require facing a demon from your past and handling things differently than what Naoya had planned, but that wasn’t the worst.

It was the fact that if you accepted, you’d have to come home tonight and lie in the face of your husband who could easily read through you. He smelled lies and treachery before you could realize you were even thinking of doing something, and knowing Naoya, he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes the instant he felt something was off.

But his offer… it was a risk you had to take. You wouldn’t ever get an opportunity like this again.

“Do you promise…that I’ll really go back to normal after this? That I won’t be involved in this mess anymore?”

“I can only promise that if you also promise to do your part. You see, I strongly believe you are the one that can put an end to this all. All you have to do is join us, and soon it’ll feel like this nightmare never happened at all. You’ll be free from Naoya Zen’in and Gojo Satoru before you realize it.”

You stared at his coin harder. Death before dishonor. This Organization he was a part of obviously didn’t fuck around, and it seemed scarier because they had their eyes on you for a while now. What were the odds they offered a deal instead of outright killing you, even going as far as to provide you a second chance at life, one that you genuinely wanted to enjoy? It would be a shame to say no, and even if the chances of this turning out well were low, you would damn well take it. A small chance was better than nothing.

“What do I have to do?”

Nanami grinned and pocketed his coin. “A very wise decision, Mrs. Zen’in,” he congratulated, “Please, meet me at my office tomorrow, eight on the dot. Oh, and remember, the Organization will now be watching you wherever you go. You’re one of us now.”

The next day, Nanami had cut your palm.

He spilled your blood into an empty metal casing with engraved letters, mori quam foedari, the phrase both comforting and ominous. Soon, you came home with your blood solidified into a coin to prove your membership and loyalty, that they quite owned you in more ways than one. Your blood meant your loyalty, and the coin felt heavy in your pocket with the implication it was also your blood they wouldn’t hesitate to spill should you betray them.

Mori quam foedari.

Death before dishonor.

Your life over Naoya’s, your future over Gojo’s.

The next few days had been tense. After telling Satoru everything down from the smallest detail, things had shifted between you. Quite frankly, you expected that maybe he’d kill you right then and there after explicitly stating that just because you couldn’t kill him, didn’t mean you wouldn’t turn him in.

“Angel,” he begged, “Will you never really give me the chance to do everything right this time around?”

However, you were too firm on your plans. You originally wanted to leave and go to the island yourself; it was easier to leave Satoru open and vulnerable for the Organization to attack him in your absence. He loved you, that was much clear, and if he looked for you, he’d make himself vulnerable to the Organization, but recent plans had to be altered now that he wasn’t willing to let go of you. Though no matter what he said, you valued your life and future more than you could ever love him.

It was an act of kindness to yourself.

“I don’t want this life anymore, Satoru. Either way, I don’t have a choice, not when I could die literally anytime before I could even say goodbye.”

It had been hours since ‘that’ talk and now you were on a plane back to Tokyo. You had to pull out some archives from Naoya’s files to know more about the island before you could visit it, and it was important for Satoru to know details such as security measures over there.

You’d long fallen asleep from exhaustion, bundled up in a fleece blanket while Geto glared at you.

“Are you sure about this, Sir? I think we should just keep her with us even if she doesn’t want to. The Gojo clan is powerful enough that no one would dare cross us. Not even this Organization she speaks of has ever done anything to us. Without her, they stand no chance against us,” he sat in front his boss and kept sending wary glances your way. “Letting her go like you did before wasn’t a good idea. She knows too much about everyone to live normally now. Do you really believe the Organization will protect her?”

“Knowing the strings the government could pull – and add on to the fact Nanami Kento, one of the richest men in this country works for them that it’s safe to assume each figure in them is a powerhouse – I don’t doubt their promise one bit.”

“But you’ll go to jail if you let her surrender you. Or worse, they’ll destroy the clan from the bottom up.”

“I know that, Geto.”

Geto groaned, brushing his hands through his hair from how indifferent his boss was being, drinking champagne as if he wasn’t willingly walking into his own death. “Then why aren’t you thinking more clearly about this? I understand you love her and you want to make it up to her, but we can’t let her do whatever she pleases! In order to keep herself safe, she’s going to sacrifice you! She’s dangerous, Sir, she’s been lying to her husband the whole time and who’s to say she isn’t capable of doing something worse to a stranger like you?”

“I told you already, Geto,” Satoru swirled the pink liquid in his flute, his face empty and unreadable. “I know.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I don’t agree with your decision. The clan would fall without you and you don’t have siblings or an heir. No one is powerful to hold the clan together aside from you so if you leave – there’s no more hope for us,” he sighed when Satoru didn’t budge. “I at least want you to reconsider your actions. She’s just a woman, Sir. It’s either we kill her or we imprison her. You let her go before because you believed she would be your downfall, and quite frankly, it’s happening all over again.”

Satoru gazed out the window, bringing the flute to his lips with a dark glint in his eye that Geto recognized meant trouble, or worse, an actual solution to this hellish situation.

“Which is why we’re going to pay an old friend a visit, Geto. There’s only one person who could turn the tables around.”

ADDITIONAL NOTE: TOJI IS COMING SOON!!! what are your theories on what might be on that island and *drum roll* WHO IS GOJO’S OLD FRIEND?!

taglist open:

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bestiesenpai · 4 years ago

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tattoo artist sukuna

I am way overdo to get my sleeve finished and I’m already itching to get a full back piece, so this is right up my alley. Gender neutral reader, and if you’d like to see the tattoo style i reference please go to @/novchild.jpg on instagram :)

It was a spur of the moment decision that led you to drive downtown with your friends at nearly midnight, drunk off each other's energy and eager to do something reckless. Speeding down the motorway, you scrolled through Instagram in search of a tattoo artist.

“Are you guys sure about this?” Your nerves had finally caught up to you as the car was parked in front of the studio you all chose. It was a typical brick and mortar building with a large skull painted on the only window to the outside world. There were a few bald men smoking cigarettes right outside the door, scrawling ink covering their exposed hands and faces.

“Yeah, c’mon!” No one waited for you, everyone climbing out of the car in excitement. Slowly, you got out of the car as well, head down as you walked past the men and into the shop.

Loud, blaring metal music met your ears, jarring you upright and tense. There wasn’t anyone you could see at the front desk, the only workers were huddled in a back corner leaning over something and laughing.

“Which one should I get?” Your attention was drawn away from the men in the corner and to the art hanging on the wall, all different flash sheets from various artists. Some were more gory, clearly drawing inspiration from horror movies while other pieces were bright and colorful, like bubblegum pop come to life.

“Hey.” A gruff voice cut through the loud music, and a man was now leaning against the front desk, spiky black hair in a ponytail with a bored look on his face and several piercings in both ears. He was clearly sizing you up, the black bar going across his nose moving as he did.

Unprepared to speak to him, you were happy when someone else stepped in and started chatting about prices. The man at the counter had on a hoodie with the sleeves rolled up, exposing one full arm and hand that was completely blacked out.

“Choso, any customers?” Another shouted, a man wide in stature with long hair. He sauntered up to the counter, tight black t-shirt showing off the traditional Japanese work covering every inch of skin.

“Getou, can’t you see?” Choso rolled his eyes and gestured to your little group.

“I can’t make conversation?” Pulling a face at Choso, Getou leaned his elbows on the counter and flashed a wide grin at all of you. “So, who’s the first to get some ink?” His narrowed eyes looked over your bare skin and you could see the wheels turning in his head.

“I am! I want that one!” One of your friends pointed at the wall, making Getou hum and nod.

“That’s Gojo’s work, he loves to draw the cute shit. I’ll call him over.” As a white haired man walked over at Geto’s call, one by one your friends made their decisions and were paired with artists.

“What did you choose, (Y/N)?” A friend asked, seeing you still stuck staring at the wall.

“I don’t know!” Throwing your head back, you were beginning to regret even tagging along. There were simply too many options and the task of picking something was daunting.

“Having a hard time choosing?” A flash of white crosses your vision and soon Gojo is leaning down into your field of vision, piercing blue eyes staring at you curiously.

“U-uh yeah.” Stumbling back from how close his face is, you realize how tall he is when he stands up straight, hands shoved into his pockets.

“Me and another guy just got done making a new flash sheet, lemme show you.” It takes him only a couple seconds to go back to his station and come back with a piece of thick paper with drawings on it.

Taking the paper, the drawings were unexpectedly cute. A lot of them looked like rough sketches or crayon drawings, simple in concept but intricate in detail.

“I’ll take this one.” Pointing at a mid-sized crayon drawing, your mouth ticked up in a smile as Gojo took the paper from you with sparkling eyes.

“That one is so cute, good choice! One sec!” Tossing the paper down, he dashes away shouting nonsensical words towards the back of the shop where they’d all been huddled up. “Sukuna! Someones here for ya!”

Rising straight up from a chair with a loud groan, a shirtless pink haired man glared sharply at Gojo. Even from a distance you can see the sharp black lines tattooed across his face and down his body, circles on each shoulder, dashed lines across his chest down his stomach and around his wrists as well.

“Geez you can really yell, you know that?” Running a hand through his hair roughly, Sukuna stands up, flexing his muscles and unknowingly giving the whole shop a show of his chiseled physique.

“There’s a client here to get a piece we made together earlier.” Shoving the paper in his face, Gojo points to the piece you selected. Sukuna mumbles a few words and sets his eyes on you, walking over with a swagger that makes you nervous.

“Alright, where do you want it?” Leaning close to you, Sukuna quirks a brow.

“I don’t know.” You sigh softly, looking down at your arms and legs. “I don’t-”

“Your arm, right here.” Grabbing onto your arm, Sukuna turns it outward to expose the flesh of your inner arm. “It would look good right here, about the size of my palm.”

“O-oh okay.” Nodding quickly, your face is burning when he lets go. His touch still lingered on your skin, the edge of his black painted fingernails digging in briefly as they squeezed you.

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes, go sign the paperwork.” Sukuna speaks with his back to you, already walking to the station he had been sleeping at and setting up. Rushing to fill in the proper papers, you wait nervously at the front of the shop for your turn.

The rest of your friends are already getting started, the whir of the tattoo machines adding to the ambience of the shop. With a wave Sukuna calls you over to his corner, still shirtless with a pair of gloves on.

“Hold out your arm.” Grabbing you once again, Sukuna angles your arm in front of a mirror by the table. Rubbing ointment on your skin, he sticks the stencil on and rubs firmly, making you squirm from the tickle of his hand getting close to your armpit.

“What do you think?” Stepping to the side, he looks at you in the mirror. “Little to the left? Right?”

“No, it’s perfect.” The longer you look at it, the longer you love it. Giving you a pat on the shoulder, Sukuna led you to the table, having you lay down and stick your arm out.

“This your first one, I can tell.” He said, adjusting your body how he seemed fit and rubbing more ointment on you.

“It’s that obvious?”

“Oh yeah, only a first timer would get something like this from me.” A cocky grin spread across his face and he gestured to the wall behind your head, covered in realistic black and white portraits. “This is normally my speciality.”

“You drew yourself?” Pointing up at one of the pictures that looked exactly like him minus the face tattoos, you chuckled.

“Nah, that’s my twin.” Your brows rose in surprise and you looked between Sukuna and the picture.

“Does he have-?” You waved over your face and body.

“He’s too scared to get a tattoo, says he’ll get ink poisoning and die.” Sukuna laughed, pouring out the various colored ink into little cups. “Won’t even let me do a tiny dot on him!”

“Safe to say you two are pretty different then.” You found yourself laughing a little as well, eased at Sukunas laid back nature.

“Mhmm, he’s busy going on the straight and narrow while I’m here ‘ruining my body’ as our grandpa likes to say.” Flashing quick air quotes, Sukuna revs up the machine and fiddles with the buttons. “Alright, you ready for this? Won’t have virgin skin anymore after this.”

“Yes!” Clenching and unclenching your fist, you pushed a deep breath through your mouth.

“If you start to cry, I won’t stop. And if you pass out, I’ll just wake you up.” That was his final warning before he leaned forward, using one large gloved hand to spread the skin of your arm taut.

The first prick of the needle against your skin made you jolt, sucking in a sharp breath and making your eyes fly open. Sukuna snorted, wiped your arm with a towel and kept going. Honing in on the marks and exposed pipes in the ceiling, you tried not to twitch from the needle anymore.

“You’re doing pretty well.” Sukuna mumbled, briefly sitting up and dipping in for more ink.

“Really?” Taking a look at the tattoo, you were surprised to see only one line had been done. It felt like at least three were placed into you.

“Yeah, don’t screw it up.” Sticking his tongue out at you, Sukuna went back to work. Transfixed on watching him, you saw the lines go into your skin, overflowing with ink and being wiped away repeatedly. You were also watching the way Sukuna’s arms flexed, the muscles in his body all on display right in front of you.

“Tell me about yourself while you stare at me.” Sukuna said, not looking up from your arm. Immediately, your head whipped away from him and a deep burn ran over your face. Sukuna laughed at your embarrassment, patting your arm with the paper towel a few times.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you’re not the first one to do it.” That didn’t make it any better. Slapping a hand over your face, you let out an unintelligible noise from the back of your throat.

“Just great.”

“It’s okay to say you have a crush on me, a lot of people that come to the shop do.”

“Sukuna!” Laughing through the shame, you glanced over at him.

“Hey, it’s the truth.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Well can you blame them when you’re built like that?” Feeling emboldened by the late night hour, you took a rather obvious look at Sukuna’s body. With only a pair of sweatpants on, you could see nearly all the tattoos he had.

“Aw thanks doll, I work out.” Sukuna shot a wink at you, briefly flexing both arms and making you blush again. “But enough about me, what about you? What made you come here so late at night?”

“My friends and I wanted to do something spontaneous.” Returning your gaze to the ceiling, the ache from the tattoo gun was beginning to settle into your skin. “And what better way to be spontaneous than to get a tattoo?”

“Ha, I hear that.”

“Why’d you get the ones on your face and stuff?”

“Thought they’d make me look cool, and I was right.” Giggling at his honesty, you quickly nodded in agreement.

“The ones on your face, did they hurt really bad?”

“The ones near my eyes yeah, those hurt the most. But thankfully Choso has a steady hand, so it didn’t last too long.”

Absentmindedly, you ran your fingers over your own face, drawing along the edge of your jaw and eye socket. There was no way you could get your face tattooed as heavily as Sukuna had, if at all ever. You had only just now gotten used to the pain of the needle on your arm and you were still twitching every so often.

“How’re you holding up so far?” Sukuna whispers close to your ear ten quiet minutes later. He’s completely focused on tattooing you yet his face is close enough that if you leaned up a little, you could graze his hair with your nose.

“Fine.” You whisper back, suddenly feeling awkward with the low tone of his voice.

“That’s good doll, real good.” His voice dropped even lower, overcompensating for the song ending over the stereo speakers. Trying not to stare at his serious expression, you look over at the other stations. Gojo is chatting up your friend excitedly, and there’s a number of colorful inks laid out before him. Choso and Geto are hard at work as well, with Choso pointedly not speaking, and a blonde man you’d noticed drinking a large mug of black coffee earlier with his button up sleeve rolled up to reveal two dragons on his forearms.

Just as the pain in your arm was starting to truly burn, the tattoo was over. Sukuna washed it down gently, patting your arm and humming to the song playing. Sitting up with a short grunt, he flicked his head to the mirror.

“Go ahead and take a look.”

Sliding slowly off the table, you held your arm out awkwardly and stood in front of the mirror. Your arm was slightly swollen and stinging, shoulder stiff from being in the same position for so long, but a smile spread on your cheeks.

“I love it.” It looked exactly like the picture: a crayon style drawing of a brown haired girl in a giant green frog, a big pout on her lips while the frog sat on a lily pad.

“Lemme snap a couple quick photos before I wrap you up.” Already with his phone out, Sukuna was quick at taking pictures, posing you like when he’d put the stencil on. “I’ll run down the aftercare stuff with you, also give you a card in case you forget any of it.”

You didn’t hear a thing he said about aftercare. Standing nearly chest to chest with Sukuna while he rubbed ointment on your skin and wrapped your tattoo up, the way his arms nearly wrapped around you to put the cover on, the gentle touch of his fingers pressing medical tape to your skin, even the way he was breathing softly and looking at you - it all had you distracted.

“Alright, you’re all done.” Sukuna patted your arm, breaking you from your trance.

“Thank you so much!” Looking down at your tightly bandaged arm, you could feel the intense heat radiating out of it. You quickly snapped your own picture of the bandage as Sukuna dug around in a drawer.

“And since I could tell you were zoning the fuck out just now, I wrote my number down on the aftercare sheet, so text me if you have any questions.” Holding the paper out to you, Sukuna had indeed scribbled his phone number on the paper in thick black marker.

“Can I really just text you?” Taking the paper hesitantly, you fiddled with it in your hands.

“Of course! I want your tattoo to heal well!” Sukuna nodded, throwing his arms out dramatically. Waiting for you to gather your stuff, he walked you to the front of the shop. “Text me anytime doll, I stay up late.” He whispered right before you got to the front counter, making your jaw drop and ears burn.

“(Y/N), you really got a girl in a frog?” A friend laughed, a bandage wrapped around their thigh.

“It’s cute!” You defended it, holding your arm close to your body.

“The cutest fucking one.” Sukuna added on, slapping the counter and pointing at everyone.

“Aren’t you cold without a shirt on?” Choso mumbled, typing away on his phone in the corner.

“No ‘cause I’m not anemic like you are.”

“It’s still cold outside.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s cold in here!” The two of them quickly devolved into petty squabble, giving each other light hearted shoves in the shoulder while Geto collected the money from everyone.

“Bye, thank you so much!” You all called out as you left, waving goodbye and shrugging your jackets back on.

“I’ll be waiting for that text, doll!” Sukuna shouted right as you stepped out, blowing you a kiss when you whipped your head over your shoulder in shock.

“Text? Were you flirting with him?” A slew of curious looks were thrown your way, making your shock even worse.

“N-no!” You stuttered and immediately grimaced at it, face getting warmer as you climbed into the car. “We were just talking while he tattooed me, he just wants to make sure it heals right.”

“Mhmm, whatever you say. Let’s go to the drive through now, Geto told me to eat something after getting tattooed!”

“Hey check Sukuna’s Instagram story, he already posted your tattoo (Y/N)!”

“Really?” Rushing to pull out your phone, it was indeed true. Sukuna had posted one of the pictures he took of your arm, a few silly frog gifs surrounding it, with the caption ‘painted a pretty doll with a pretty frog, hope they come back for more xx’.

“You two were definitely flirting!” Shouts resounded in the car, everyone giggling wildly at the caption. Giggling along with them, you quickly typed a message to Sukuna.

(Y/N): hey Sukuna this is (Y/N). Thanks again for the frog! And the picture you posted on your story looks really good :)

(Sukuna): no problem doll

(Sukuna): next time you want a tattoo, text me and i’ll draw up whatever you want

“Sukuna said he wanted to tattoo me again!” You announced to your friends, all of them oohing and crowding around your phone. “What should I say?”

“I’ll do it!” Someone snatched your phone before you could say anything, rapidly shooting off a message and tossing the device back to you.

(Y/N): are you free tomorrow?

“He’s not gonna-” Right as you were beginning to shake your head and type another message, he replied.

(Sukuna): for you? of course

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines

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bruhstories · 4 years ago

Text

switch

summary: you and yuji have been together for three years now, but on your anniversary night, you allow your own demons to come to the surface. pairing: ryomen sukuna x female!reader (itadori yuji x female!reader, too, i guess?) | aged up characters word count: 3.5k warning & content: cheating?? (is it cheating if it's technically the same body?), unprotected sex, creampie, slight dacryphillia, vaginal fingering, blackmail, reader is kind of an asshole? (can you blame her tho, sukuna is such a daddy ugh), bit of overstimulation, slight dumbification (if you squint)

a/n: i'm back, and i can tell my writing skill is getting rusty. i took a break and it's obvious with this fic, but i need to get my head back in the game. it is what it is.

Yuji was a great boyfriend. In all honesty, he was every woman and man's dream — funny, charming, attentive and, most importantly, caring. He cared about you so much that he always made sure to control his own personal demon. You knew about Sukuna, Yuji told you after a few dates, and you were well versed in Jujutsu Sorcery, enough to know that he was not someone you could mess with. But you didn't want to give up on Yuji, and stuck with him through thick and thin. After almost three years of the beautiful and fun relationship you two had, he asked you to move in with him since you were both adults now, and you gladly accepted, because after so much time, you came to love him, despite seeing Sukuna's outbursts during fights. That thing, that monster, was beyond terrifying, but you trusted Yuji with all your heart, and that was all that mattered.

Or maybe you were unhinged, maybe you wanted Sukuna to come to the surface. Maybe, deep down in your heart, you fell in love with the switch, with the raging, brutal frenzies that you happened to witness on the rare occasions when Yuji couldn’t control the King of Curses. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer, because, as opposed to your optimistic and good-natured boyfriend, you never hesitate to kill – human or curse. Sometimes it felt as if your curiosity surpassed your love for Yuji, and that was a horrendous thought. Surely, that can’t be the real you, right?

Today is your three-year anniversary, and naturally, you want to surprise your boyfriend, so when you come home from a mission, you stop by his favourite ramen restaurant, picking up something to eat, maybe even some dessert. You tiptoe inside when you notice Yuji napping on the couch, and after silently setting up the table, careful not to wake him up, you quickly change into something... nicer. Yuji doesn't really enjoy it when you show some skin, which sucks because you want him to show you off. Nevertheless, you respect him, but tonight is special, surely it wouldn't hurt if you wear a shorter skirt. And a low-cut blouse. And heels. Fuck it, you think, adding a pair of thigh high socks as well, maybe that would rile him up. As much as you loved him, Yuji was too gentle. You liked that about him, truly, but sometimes you just need him to give you a good fuck, which was impossible, no matter how much you begged him to do it. You watch your reflection in the mirror from head to toe, proud of your skimpy outfit, but you can't help but wonder if he might be upset at your choice of attire. Even if he prefers it when you're dressed in pastels, that's not you, the real you. "You look good enough to eat." Yuji's voice breaks your trance and you turn on your heels to look at him. He stands in the doorway of the bedroom, arms folded across his chest, but there's a strange aura around him, and you can't exactly see his face through the dim lights. "You like it?" Your ears perk up, happy that he's not bothered by the clothes. "I do. You should dress like that more often." He sneers, stepping closer to you. "Alright, what kind of prank are you pulling now, Yuji? You never liked these kinds of clothes." You lower your head, your luscious lips turning into a pout. His calloused fingertips grip your chin, turning your head to face the mirror, and that's when you see the black markings on his face. Fear paralyses your entire body, eyes widening in panic and anxiety. "He might not like them, but I do." His voice is lower than Yuji's, calm yet obscenely dangerous. "I- you-" The words get caught in your throat, and you can't take your eyes off of his reflection. You know for a fact there's absolutely nothing you can do to defend yourself from Sukuna without hurting Yuji, and that thought makes you feel incredibly small and downright pathetic. "Little lamb, do you have any idea how hard it's been for me to watch this ungrateful brat take you for granted?" His hand is still leaving imprints on your chin and cheek, the other travelling down your back. "To watch you lose yourself for him, of all people?" "You don't know me!" Lips open without a thought, and you regret every syllable that came out of your mouth. "Oh, but I do." Yuji, no, Sukuna sneers, that same hand that was once on your back is now on your abdomen, painstakingly slowly creeping under your blouse. "Everything he sees, I see. Everything he smells, I smell. What he hears, I hear. But I just couldn't touch what's mine. Until now." You feel him pinching your nipple, and you're ashamed to admit how good his skin feels against yours, his hot breath fanning over your nape. "'M not yours." You grit your teeth, manicured fingernails digging into the plush of your thighs to keep your composure. "There's one thing I can smell that he can't. Wanna know what that is, sweet dove?" He whispers in your ear, and it's dotting your skin with goosebumps. "Enlighten me." "Your arousal." "You're bluffing." Is all you manage to say before Sukuna spins you around, pinning you against the mirror. "Let's see, shall we? I bet you're dripping," he shoves one of your legs to the side with his knee, and you don't stop him, "I bet you you've fantasised about this, late at night, when this brat can't please you. He's well endowed, though, it's a shame he can't use his dick." "S-stop it, please. I love him." "Pardon me if I doubt that." "Please, sir..." Sir? How should you call him? Demon? Cursed spirit? Monster? "How about master?" Sukuna barks back, as if reading your mind sarcasm dripping

down his tongue. You can't stifle a moan when his teeth sink in the crook of your neck, and you know damn well that you want this, and that every word he uttered so far was correct. You have thought about Yuji switching with Sukuna, wondered how he would fuck you, make you chant his name, but you never told your boyfriend, you couldn't. It's sinful, disgraceful and disgusting. Instinctively, you grind up his thigh, tears of shame and lust pooling at your eyes when you slowly give in to the temptation. He's already bruised your skin, one hand toying with your tits, the other lifting your skirt up. It's too late to fight him, because you never wanted to fight him in the first place. You deepest, darkest wish is finally coming to life. "That's better." Sukuna licks his lips, and your half-lidded, glossy eyes land on his tongue. "Please, m-may I kiss you?" Eyes dart away, cheeks burning with desire and embarrassment. "How polite of you to ask." He coos at you mockingly, his face inching closer to yours before absolutely crushing your lips under his. You don't hesitate to partly open your mouth, allowing his tongue to slip between your lips. Fuck, he kisses you so good that your knees give in, and all you can think is that if he's such a good kisser, he's definitely going to fuck you dumb. And you want that more than anything. When he pulls away, you lick your lips, still tasting him on your tongue, and he tastes so much better than Yuji — sweet and addictive. "I really wanted to take my time with you, after all, I waited three long years for this. But you're such an eager little slut, aren't you?" "I'm n-not a slut-" You try to protest, but you can't fool him, especially not when he's pushing your panties to the side, fingers grazing over your slit. "You are a slut. You merely buried that side of you for a pathetic little boy who can't handle a real woman." Sukuna's index finger gently brushes against your clit, enough to have you weak and needy. "Don't worry, Y/N, you don't have to hide from me. You can show me what you really want." It hurts to know that Yuji probably sees and hears everything, that he will probably break up with you after this, but you're too far gone to care about his feelings when finally someone is paying attention to yours. Your hand travels up his thigh, palming his already hard cock, and the way he groans, throwing his head back is satisfying enough for you. It hurts to think that Yuji never appreciates this side of you, and it's more painful when you consider this to be cheating — it's still his body, technically, but it's not your loving boyfriend, and you're perfectly fine with that. He slips a finger between your folds, a quiet moan escaping your lips, and Sukuna knows you won't dare say no to him, or try to reason with him. He adds another finger, but he absolutely does not move them an inch, instead you automatically fuck yourself on his hand, gripping one of his shoulders for support. "That's a good whore." Sukuna praises you, tongue lapping at your collarbone, making you delirious with lust. "You want my cock? Want me to fuck your aching cunt?" It's impossible to refuse his proposition, instead you buck your hips, your fingers gripping his t-shirt and you know you might tear it if you keep this up. "Yes..." You answer him, voice soft and quiet. "Yes what?" "P-please... Yes, please!" "Much better. Get on the bed." Sukuna commands and you obey, skirt dangerously hiked up. You proceed to take it off, but he slaps your hands away, too impatient for such formalities. He did wait a long time for this, you understand that, and so you lay on your back, blouse unbuttoned, panties on the floor and legs wide open for him to take you. Oh, and he adores this sight, how you willingly give yourself to him, your dainty fingers spreading your juices around your cunt, eager to be filled. In those three years of being with Yuji, you got used to his cock, but seeing it now seems like it's the first time. Precum leaks from the blushing tip and your mouth begins to water just by looking at him, and

this pleases Sukuna greatly. "Tell me what you want." He climbs on top of you, hands resting next to you as your fingernails graze over his chest. "I don't wanna say it..." You avert your gaze, a crumb of dignity left in you because you know Yuji hears everything. "Oh, you don't?" He quirks a brow, brown irises bearing a hint of red. "Then you won't mind me killing the brat." This garners your attention, and you feel stupid because of course he would blackmail you. Do you care? No. Do you want Yuji to think you care? Yes. "Please don't hurt him." You look back at Sukuna, tears pricking your eyes. "Why shouldn't I? We both know he doesn't deserve you." "You're wrong, I love-" "This isn't about you loving him, it's about you renouncing your true nature." His hand finds its way on your neck, fingers wrapping around it. "How many times have you begged him to choke you and he refused? How many times did you ask him to fuck you harder and he said no? You're a filthy slut, Y/N, and it's time you got what you deserve." The lack of air has your pussy clenching around nothing, and you hate him so much for being right. Yuji could never give you what you want, but Sukuna can, and it's an opportunity you can't pass. "Now, I'll say this one last time — tell me what you want." He releases the grip on your neck. "Y-you! I want you to fuck me, please, fuck me good, make me yours!" The tears that roll down your cheeks ruin your makeup, mascara mixed with eyeshadow smeared under your eyes. The tip of his cock pushes past your folds, and inch by inch he bottoms out. It feels bigger than before, stretching you open in a beautiful blend of pain and pleasure, your lips forming an O as your eyes roll back. "He doesn't deserve your tears. But I do. Cry for me." Sukuna sneers, his broad frame hovering above you and you feel so small and vulnerable. Yet again you obey, allowing more salty droplets to run down your face as you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling him go deeper. "Fuck, 's big! Oh, god-" Sukuna's palm meets your cheek, a sharp, stinging pain bringing your eyes on him. "Focus, whore. Not god, not the brat, me." He grunts, hips rocking back and forth harder and faster. "Who do you belong to?" You don't want to say it, what would Yuji think of you? He's probably already disgusted, contemplating breaking up with you once he regains control of his body. Another slap pulls you out of your thoughts and you buck your hips against his. "Answer me." "I b-belong to you! You!" "That's right, you're mine. Don't worry your pretty head, little lamb, Yuji won't be coming back any time soon." He grunts with every thrust, and his reassurance is somewhat comforting, because, god, he fucks you so good, you would kill for another opportunity like this. His teeth sink into your shoulder, fingers bruising your skin and you're delighted that he's marking you. All that matters is that you're his, chanting his name over and over again, praying to your new god, and Sukuna is beyond pleased with his work of art. When he pulls out of you, you almost cry, because it feels like a part of you is missing, but he's a merciful god, he won't let his newly devoted subject famished. Flipping you over as if you're made of feathers, he thrusts back into your aching cunt, and you yelp at the feeling of being overpowered by him. Sukuna's stamina is off the charts, because while your legs begin to feel numb, he's fucking into you with such force and intensity that the damn bed slides on the floor. It's raw, the way he's defiling your cunt, and it's sending your brain into overdrive. Your spongy walls clench around his cock, and while he doesn't say anything, the simple fact that he's going deeper and harder makes you feel special. Squirming and thrashing under him, you're desperate for some form of validation, and so you lift your ass up, pushing it back against his hips with a delightful moan escaping your lips. Sukuna takes notice of your sudden change of posture, and the way you curve your spine to try and get a look at him is adorable. "You want something,

pet?" He barely spares you a glance, and his indifference makes your pussy flutter. Your incoherent sentence almost makes him laugh, words such as good and please distinguishable between the other stutters. "Use your fucking words." A slap over your firm ass makes you yelp and jolt up. "A-am I good enough f-for you?" The question takes him by surprise, but he doesn't stop to think. Instead, he digs his sharp talons into the plush of your hips, overjoyed by your eagerness to please him. "You could do better." Sukuna teases you, but you take it personally, sadness and determination coiling inside of your heart. By this point, you don't even remember your boyfriend's name, too high on pleasure to even care. "'M sorry! P-please, I wanna be good!" You throw your head back and he wraps an arm around your neck, pressing his chest against your back. "If you wanna make me happy, you best forget about Itadori." "W-who?" "Your– never mind." Sharp canines flashed in his smirk, Sukuna tilts your head enough for you to catch a glimpse of his eyes. They're dark and vicious, and any sane person would be repulsed by them, but not you. No, you drown in them, completely absorbed by the hatred hiding behind them. The more you stare into his orbs, the closer you are to your climax. And he knows it. "Fuck fuck fuck!" "That's right, little lamb, let go of all that is moral and human." "Don't stop- oh, god, please don't s-stop!" In your frenzy, in his frantic pace, Sukuna's close, too. It would have taken any other woman hours to please him due to his insatiable nature, but you — your cunt clenching around his cock for dear life milks him dry, and inch by inch he pulls out, watching the hot liquid dripping down your trembling thighs. Art, he thinks, this is what art is — your face buried in the pillows, ass up, and his seed spilling out of your sore cunt. You come down from your haze, slowly but surely, and the realisation of what just happened begins to hit you. You want to regret everything, to feel a shred of shame, but there isn't any left. After this night, Sukuna irrevocably owns you, and you wouldn't have it any other way. He lays on the bed, lazily watching you stumble in the bathroom to clean yourself up, but with his guard up in case you want to try anything stupid. Yet when you don't come back, Sukuna wonders if you ran away out the window, which makes him laugh to himself because he could find you anywhere if he wanted to. So, he drags his feet across the room, finding you on the edge of the bathtub, watching the water pool inside with a blank stare. When you feel his presence, you get up and tug at the hem of his shirt. The man flinches, until he remembers that you are harmless and exhausted, and you don't look like you even want to put up a fight, so he allows you to take his shirt off. "Is this for me?" He points at the tub, brow quirked and a mischievous smile on his lips. "Yes." "Are you gonna clean me up?" "Yes." You sigh, wondering if you truly ever loved Yuji, wondering why you didn't even try to fight for him. "Do you want your boyfriend back?" Oh, how you dreaded this question. You cringe at the words, and don't reply. Silence is also an answer, but he's cruel. "I need to hear it." "He will also hear it." Of course he will, that's the whole point of humiliation. Sukuna steps in the tub, dipping himself in the hot water, a hand extended towards you. "Join me." You hesitate to take his hand, lips pursed and eyes narrowed at the man who looks so serene that it amazes you how brutal he was before. "I won't ask again." Complying, and not wanting to anger him, you don't waste another moment to get in the tub, back against his chest. "Can I ask you a question?" "You just did, sweet dove." "Fine, I’ll shut up." "Now, now, don't give me that attitude, or else I'll have to put you in your place. And you won't like it." His nails are pressed onto your jugular, and you know those things can cut, your hips are still bleeding. "Ask away." He lets his hands fall on your shoulders and you exhale the breath that was caught in your

throat. "Why didn't you kill me? Why don't you kill me?" "I need a pet." "Oh." Your disappointment makes Sukuna burst into laughter. What did you expect? A confession of love? "Oh?" He mocks you, tracing circles on your skin with his talons. "Don't worry, I take good care of my pets. Especially if they're loyal and obedient." His hands travel down your body, one pulling your knee to the side, the other moving up your thigh. "You are loyal and obedient, yes?" "Please, no more-" The rest of the sentence dies before you can utter it when his fingers ghost over your swollen clit. "Answer me, Y/N." "I can't come again!" "You can, and you will, because I want you to. Now answer the fucking question." Sukuna toys with you, only pushing his index finger one knuckle deep between your folds before pulling it out, and somehow you can't feel the sharpness of his nails. "Will you serve and obey me, not once questioning my authority?" He pushes the finger back in, curling it upwards and you don't fail to clench your walls once more. "Oh, f-fuck, I will, I will! But please, I can't–" When he rubs your clit, you are done for. You didn't think you could reach another climax, but those circles he's rubbing with enough pressure to both give you pleasure and pain have you melting in his arms. "Swear it, then. Make a pact with me. I can give you anything in return, maybe even the brat." "I s-swear it, S-Sukuna! I swear my loyalty to you!" You hiss between your gritted teeth, hips rolling in synchronicity with his hand. "And in return, what do you want?" "I want you! Oh, god, I only want you!" "Clever girl." The man decides to give you what you want, and with a quickened pace, you squeeze your thighs together, coming undone on his fingers. "I'm going to enjoy your company." Embracing your true nature is your salvation, and damnation. Your boyfriend is never coming back, Sukuna simply won't allow it, and from this moment on, your memories of Yuji begin to fade away, like a bad dream, because you simply must serve your beloved master, your merciful and devastatingly powerful god. That's who you really are.

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imgoingtofreakoutnow · 3 years ago

Note

“Please don’t look at me with such hatred.” With Loki (I feel like this could be both Angst and fluff so I’m not sure with one to request)

Broken Hearts

Summary: After finding out Loki isn't dead and is now imprisoned, you sneak into Asgard's prisons to see him one last time.

Pairing: (past) Loki x reader

Prompt: "Please don’t look at me with such hatred."

Warnings: angst, mentions of death

A/n: Hello Shle! I truly hope you like this because I really enjoyed writing it. Hope you're having a good day!💗✨ — @hellotvshowtrash

The corridors were dark, cold and empty. No wonder entering Asgard's prisons turned out to be easier than what you expected.

Wrapped in you dark cloak, you turned another corner and the corridor opened in a bigger tunnel. Many prisoners eyed you from both sides behind their orange veil that kept them inside, but you didn't spare them a glance.

Heimdall had told you exactly where the person you were looking for had been brought.

After a few more turns, you stopped in front of one of those cells. Elegant furniture that clearly didn't belonged there adorned the blank room, with their carved details and golden streaks of paint.

The prisoner was slumped on a couch, reading a book, when he finally noticed you.

"Y/N." Loki put down his book, a smirk immediately appearing on his face. "Funny seeing you here."

He got up effortlessly, his movements fluent like water down a river. You used to be enchanted by them, by the way his hair followed him around. Now it just reminded you the swirls of a venomous snake.

"How have you been?" he then asked, leaning towards the magic barrier between you two but carefully not touching it. "Have you mourned my death while I was gone?"

You didn't move. You didn't even dare to open your mouth; the Gods only knew what could've left it. You just stared.

"Oh, silent treatment," — Loki straightened his back, wandering his gaze on the rest of the room — "I see... not that I don't deserve it, however from you? I wasn't expecting such a cold welcome... But then again," he added, facing you once more, "a lot can change in one year, can't it?"

As if you had become one with the stone under your feet, you didn't move a muscle, even though every inch of your body screamed to. You just kept staring, searching his features for glimpses of past memories; walks in the woods and the palace gardens, nights spent under the stars, sharing secrets and hopes just like lovers would.

Your silent staring competition continued for quite some time, but the longer it lasted, the more changes you noticed on Loki's face. At first, it was just a twitch in his lips, then slowly his eyes lost their characteristic smugness, until his gaze fell to the white floor together with his smirk.

"Please, don't look at me with such hatred..." he whispered, in a way that, if you didn't know any better, it sounded just like a prayer. "I can't bear it, not from you." When he eventually looked back up, your eyes met his regretful ones. "I only did what I had to do..."

"That's not true..." You shook your head, pressing your lips in a thin line. "Of all the things you could say to excuse you, that's not one. You didn't have to do anything. You had a choice, and you could've chosen us."

How painful was still that last word on your lips! A deadly kiss, that tasted like roses and rotten flesh.

"You could've chosen a happiness that didn't come from power," you continued, stepping closer to the orange barrier, "one that would've lasted longer than life itself, if you truly wanted to." You stopped for a moment, breathing slowly in, letting him ponder the possibility he had thrown away. "But you didn't."

This time was his turn not to utter a word. He stared back at you, his eyes getting more and more blurry by the second. As you watched his hurt expression, you felt a lump growing in your throat, pricking your eyes with guilt and sorrow, but you gulped it down.

"I loved you, Loki. More than I've ever loved anyone. And your death destroyed my soul. I shed all my tears over you..." And I will not cry for you again.

"I'm sorry..."

"I don't need your apologies," you cut him off, even though you knew how heavy were those words on his tongue. But now, they weren't enough. "I need my heart back, but that's something I'll never be able to fix."

You expected him to perhaps say something more. You didn't know what. That he regretted it, that he missed the life he had with you, as simple as it was... but he didn't.

You turned around, going back from the way you came him. Not a word was uttered, not a tear was shed. But two hearts were still broken.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki x y/n #chats with annie🍰#annie hits 500 #blurb

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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Trying Something New - Fred Weasley

Title: Trying Something New Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Warning: NSFW!! Dom/sub, daddy kink, male receiving oral, dirty talk, teasing, pet names, sex toys, overstimulation, unprotected sex, after care Summary: Fred and the reader decide it’s time to spice things up in the bedroom A/N: this is for @le-weasley-simp who wanted some kink exploration and an anon who wanted some dom!Fred with daddy kink!! This is mostly just smut but if you look hard enough there’s some plot I guess haha. Feedback is always welcome!!

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“What do you think of this one?” Y/N asks, holding up another bra for Fred to examine. It’s a deep purple color with a little lace detailing on the cups. When all Fred does is shrug Y/N sighs and puts the bra down. “What’s wrong with you? We’re surrounded by lingerie and you’re acting like we’re at the dentist’s office.”

“I dunno, I thought shopping for lingerie would be more exciting, and sexy,” Fred sighs, looking around the store. “But in reality it’s pretty boring.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Well if you would pick out some stuff you like I could try it on for you, Freddie. But if you’d rather just go and do something else I can meet back up with you later.”

“Try it on for me?” Fred asks, perking up. “Why didn’t you start with that, love? Wait here, I’ll be back.”

Y/N shakes her head fondly with a chuckle as she watches Fred move around the store. He starts to eagerly grab a few things off of the shelves, clearly more interested in their shopping trip than he had been before. This shopping trip is the first part in their journey to get a bit more adventurous in the bedroom. Their sex life is far from vanilla, but both Fred and Y/N expressed interest in taking their activities to the next level. So they decided they’d spend the day out in muggle London to do some shopping for some supplies that will hopefully turn things up a notch in the bedroom.

When Fred comes back to where Y/N is standing a few minutes later, he has quite a few things in his hands and there’s a cheeky grin on his face. He shoves them all into her arms before ushering Y/N towards the dressing room. “Go, go, go. I’ll wait out here.” Fred takes a seat on the chair outside the dressing room, giving her a wink. “Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

“Okay, okay. Keep it in your pants, Freddie,” Y/N teases before closing the curtain behind herself. She hangs up the few things Fred had shoved into her arms, deciding to try on some of the bras first. She gets her top half undressed before grabbing the first thing her hand lands on. She slips it on, before turning to look at herself in the mirror.

It’s a deep red color that compliments her skin tone perfectly, and it’s completely made of lace. It plunges low, so her cleavage is on full display, and her nipples are visible through the sheer fabric. She adjusts it so it fits just right before turning around and opening the curtain up. “Thoughts?”

Fred’s eyes widen and he bites his lip to keep from moaning. He lets his eyes rake over Y/N’s body, focusing on the way the fabric clings to the curve of her breasts. “Oh I have many thoughts and none of them are appropriate enough to be said out loud right now.”

Y/N rolls her eyes as she shuts the curtain. She takes the bra off carefully and sets it aside for her to buy. She tries the next few bras on, showing each one to Fred, but they don’t quite elicit the same reaction as the first one. Fred had picked out two fuller pieces as well, and Y/N turns to those next.

The first one is sheer with some lace detailing throughout, with high cut leg holes that leave most of her sides bare. It’s high cut up the back as well, and if Y/N didn’t still have her panties on practically her whole ass would be hanging out. Y/N sticks just her head out of the curtain, so she can beckon Fred closer. “Come here, I don’t wanna expose my entire ass to the store.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Fred gets up and stands in front of the curtain, blocking the rest of the store from view. “Come on then, let’s have a look.”

“It’ll look a bit weird since I still have my underwear one, but I’m sure you can use your imagination to picture what it’ll look like when I’m naked.” Y/N opens the curtain fully then for Fred to see what she’s wearing, suddenly feeling embarrassed under his intense gaze.

“Jesus,” Fred groans, reaching out to touch Y/N’s thighs. He lets his eyes slowly roam over her body, memorizing every inch of skin. “If you don’t buy that I will never, ever, ever forgive you, Y/N. I’m serious. If we were allowed to use magic around muggles I’d be casting a few spells and taking you right here in this dressing room.”

“Fred,” Y/N scolds, before pulling him into a brief kiss. “Okay go sit back down, lover boy. I’ll try the last one on and then we can head to the next store.” Y/N shuts the curtain again and gets undressed, placing the black piece with the red bra she tried on earlier. She slips into the white piece quickly, taking a few moments to admire herself in the mirror. This one is less revealing, yet somehow feels sexier to her. The material is lace, but not only sheer in the areas that sprawl over her stomach and the leg holes are only cut a smidge higher than a normal pair of underwear, leaving much of her sides and ass covered. But the neckline is a plunging halter top, which leaves much of her breasts exposed.

Y/N opens the curtain, giving a little twirl for Fred. “You like?” she asks.

Fred nods wildly. “Very much. You look so sexy in white, Y/N. So innocent, yet so dirty at the same time. You’re driving me wild, baby.”

“No need to lay it on so thick, Freddie. I already agreed to sleep with you,” she teases. “Now go wait outside. I don’t want you to see what I buy so it’ll be a surprise.”

Fred gets up and comes to stand in the doorway of the dressing room, pressing a brief kiss to Y/N’s lips. “Such a tease, Y/N.” Fred pulls his wallet out of his pocket and places it into her hand. “Whatever you want is on me, baby. Okay? I’m spoiling you today.” Back when Y/N and Fred first got together during their Hogwarts years he used to dream about the day he’d have enough money to shower Y/N in presents and treat her like the Queen she is. Now that those days are finally here he takes every opportunity to spoil her, whether she likes it or not.

“Freddie,” Y/N responds before kissing him again. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I want to.” Fred winks at her. “And this way I don’t feel as bad when I inevitably destroy something ripping it off of your hot body.”

Y/N closes the curtain on Fred then, shaking her head as she listens to him laugh as he walks away. She gets redressed quickly, holding the three things she plans on purchasing in her hand. Y/N walks towards the till slowly, grabbing a few pairs of underwear on her way, including a red lace thong that will go perfectly with the bra Fred had picked out. Once her purchase has been made Y/N heads out of the store and meets back up with Fred.

“All set?” he asks, wrapping an arm around her waist. When Y/N nods he grins. “Perfect. To the sex shop we go!”

“Who knew there are so many kinds of dildos?” Fred muses as he stares at a wall covered top to bottom in different dildos. “I mean so many different colors, and shapes, and sizes. It’s truly remarkable,” he comments, turning to look at Y/N. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah sure, Freddie,” Y/N giggles. The basket in her hand is already quite full of a few things, but Fred insisted that a trip to the sex shop wouldn’t be complete without getting a new dildo. Y/N is quite familiar with a variety of different sex toys, many of them having been gifts from Fred, but those are tucked away in her bedside drawer for her to use on her own when Fred isn’t around. This is the first time they’re picking out toys to use together, and Y/N would be lying if she said it wasn’t turning her on.

Fred wraps his arm around Y/N’s waist, pulling her close to his side. “Any one in particular catch your eye, love?” He leans over to whisper in her ear. “It’s your pussy it’ll be buried in after all.”

A shiver runs down Y/N’s spine right to her core and she lets her eyes roam over the wall. There truly is a wide variety of dildos, and some even scare her a little bit. She turns to Fred and presses a kiss to his cheek. “You know what I like, Freddie. You pick one out, surprise me.” Y/N hands him the basket and gives Fred a stern look. “Don’t make me regret that decision, Fred.”

“Have I ever given you a sex toy you didn’t like?” he asks. “You’re in good hands baby. I promise.” Fred waits until Y/N has left the store before he grabs the dildo of his choice, making sure to grab a few extra things on his way to the checkout counter.

Y/N examines herself in the mirror, wiping her sweaty palm off on her bare thigh. She’s standing in her and Fred’s bathroom wearing nothing but the lacy red bra and thong she’d purchased earlier that day. Even though Fred has seen her in far less clothing, she can feel nervous butterflies fluttering around in her stomach. Something about exploring new things with Fred has her feeling like a virgin all over again, nervous and unsure what to expect. Y/N had been mostly hands off when deciding what new things to explore, leaving the decisions to Fred. She trusts Fred with her life, but the uncertainty of where the evening is going to take them is making her a weird combination of excited and turned on.

“I’m ready when you are, baby,” Fred calls from the other side of the door.

Y/N takes a deep breath, before she opens the bathroom door and steps into their bedroom. Fred is sitting on the end of their bed in just his boxers, leaning back on his hands. She can tell that he’s already hard, and arousal starts to blossom in her stomach.

“Baby, you look ravishing,” Fred comments, letting his eyes take in every inch of her body. The red looks amazing on her, and the skimpy fabric leaves much of her skin bare, just how Fred likes it. Y/N’s hands move to cover herself up, and Fred drags his gaze away from her bare thighs so he can make eye contact with her. “Come on, Y/N. Be a good girl, let me see you.”

Y/N blushes and clasps her hands behind her back, so Fred can see all of her. His voice is deep and firm, and it puts her at ease. Fred dominating her is familiar, and it quiets the butterflies in her stomach. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Good girl,” Fred praises. “Now turn around for me, I want to see all of you.” Fred bites his lip as Y/N turns around, his eyes immediately drawn to her ass. “So pretty, baby. Do you like getting all dressed up for me?”

“Yes sir.” Y/N’s skin is burning from Fred’s intense gaze and she can feel the blush that’s creeping down her neck to her chest.

“Turn around,” Fred demands, smirking when Y/N instantly faces him again. “Listening so good tonight, baby. I might not even have to get that brand new paddle we bought earlier.”

Y/N shivers at the thought of Fred using a paddle to spank her. She’s no stranger to the feeling of Fred’s hand swatting her on the ass, but it’s usually purely for pleasure purposes, never to punish. And the thought of Fred taking her across his lap and spanking her until she cries makes her core throb.

Fred starts to palm himself through his boxers, trying to decide what to do next. “Get on your knees, kitten.”

The nickname is new, and it makes Y/N’s core throb as she drops down to her knees. “Yes, Daddy.” Y/N’s eyes widen, and she looks up at Fred. It’s always sir or master when he dominates her, never Daddy. They’ve never talked about it before and Y/N would be lying if she said she wasn’t eager to say it again.

“What did you call me?” Fred asks, wanting to make sure he heard her right. He tries to keep his tone even so that Y/N doesn’t think he’s angry with her.

“Daddy.”

Fred’s cock twitches at the name and he has to bite his tongue to stifle a groan. “Get over here, kitten and suck Daddy’s cock.”

“Yes Daddy,” Y/N answers as she crawls over to Fred. She immediately settles in between his spread thighs and pulls his boxers down to his ankles, freeing his cock. One of her hands wraps around the base as she takes the head into her mouth, sucking on it gently. Fred’s moans encourage her to keep going, and Y/N starts to slowly move her head down, taking more of Fred into her mouth and down her throat.

Fred groans as Y/N’s lips squeeze around his cock, and he gathers her hair up into a ponytail. It’s a warning, that if she isn’t a good girl for him he’ll have to fuck her throat so hard she can’t speak tomorrow, and as she starts to slowly pull her head back Fred gives her hair a light tug. “Don’t be naughty, kitten. You know how Daddy likes to have his cock sucked.”

Y/N moans around Fred and starts to bob her head faster. Her hand twists at the part of his cock she can’t fit into her mouth, and she lets her tongue rub at the vein on the underside of his cock. Y/N’s hand starts to stroke him as she pulls off to allow her mouth to pay extra attention to the head. She looks up at Fred under her eyelashes as her tongue starts to lick and flick at just the tip, gathering up the precum that has started to bubble out.

“That’s it,” Fred moans. “Being such a good girl, kitten. That pretty little mouth of yours was made for Daddy’s cock wasn’t it?” Y/N moans as she swallows him down again, causing Fred’s hips to twitch, forcing himself a little deeper down her throat. “Where should Daddy shoot his first load, kitten? All over your pretty tits? Or do you wanna swallow it, like the little cum slut you are.”

Fred’s dirty talk is sending shocks of pleasure right to her core, and Y/N has to clench her free hand to resist the urge to start touching herself. She isn’t allowed to touch without Fred’s permission, and if she does he’ll spend the rest of the evening edging her but never allowing her to finish. After a few more bobs of her head Y/N pulls off, stroking Fred slowly, changing the pressure of her grip as she does. “Want it in my mouth, Daddy. Please.” Y/N presses a few kisses to the tip of Fred’s cock, before taking him back down her throat.

“Of course, kitten. How could Daddy say no when you ask so nicely?” Under normal circumstances Fred would keep Y/N on her knees for him for the better part of an hour, not only for his pleasure, but hers’ as well. The longer Fred waits to finally touch Y/N the more intense her orgasms are, and their sex is much more enjoyable for Fred when Y/N is screaming his name. Fred starts to thrust his hips gently to meet Y/N’s movements and his grip on her hair tightens when she moans around him again.

Y/N takes a deep breath and relaxes her throat, before moving her head until her nose touches the skin just above Fred’s cock. The tip of his cock hits the back of her throat and she gags around him. A few tears leak from her eyes and saliva starts to drip down her chin, but she stays there for a few moments before pulling back to wrap her tongue around the head and suck. She tilts her head back slightly so Fred can look at the mess she’s becoming, before she takes him all the way back down again.

Fred moans as Y/N gags again, the image of his cock between her red, swollen lips with drool dripping down her chin and tears leaking down her face still fresh in his mind. “Fucking hell, kitten. You sound so pretty choking on my cock. You like the way it fills up your mouth, don’t you?” Y/N hums as her lips reach the tip of his cock and Fred lets out a deep groan. “Daddy’s getting close, kitten. Gonna shoot into your pretty mouth so you can swallow it down just like you asked. Being such a good girl for me already. I bet your pussy is already dripping just from having my cock in your mouth. You’re such a little cock slut, aren’t you kitten? You always need Daddy’s cock filling you up, isn’t that right? Nothing makes you cum as hard as Daddy’s cock does, right kitten?”

Y/N moans as she continues to take Fred’s cock all the way down her throat, letting herself gag for a moment before pulling back and repeating the process. She can feel Fred twitching against her tongue, a telltale sign that he’s on the verge of climaxing. Y/N focuses on the feel of his cock in her mouth to keep her mind away from her pussy and the way it pulsates. Fred has somehow managed to talk dirtier than normal, and each word that comes out of his mouth goes right to her core.

“Oh fuck, kitten. Such a good little cock slut. Love the way you gag on my cock.” Fred pulls Y/N off of him slightly, and shallowly thrusts his hips a few times as he feels himself about to cum. “Here it comes, kitten such a good girl. Making Daddy cum from just your mouth.” Fred lets out a long groan as he reaches his climax, his hips twitching as his cock releases thick ropes of cum onto Y/N’s tongue and down her throat. He grabs Y/N’s jaw as he slowly pulls out to keep her mouth open. “Let me see your tongue, kitten. Daddy wants to see how pretty it looks with all of his cum on it.”

Y/N looks up at Fred and sticks her tongue out. Once Fred releases her jaw she swallows his release, before opening her mouth again, allowing Fred to see that it’s all gone. “Did I do good, Daddy?”

Fred nods, and uses his thumb to wipe away the drool on her chin. “So good, kitten.” Y/N shivers at his praise, and Fred cups her cheek. “Always my good girl, kitten. Such a good mouth, always sucking me so well. And you look so pretty with my cock between your lips, kitten. That mouth was made to suck Daddy’s cock, wasn’t it?”

Y/N nods, preening under Fred’s praise. “Yes, Daddy. Made just for you. I love sucking your cock, Daddy. Thank you for letting me suck you off and swallow your load.”

“You’re welcome, kitten.” Fred pats his thighs to give Y/N permission to sit on his lap, and he chuckles as she scrambles off of the floor to straddle his waist. This is the first time he’s touched her all night, and he lets his hands run down her back, over her bum to her thighs, before following the same trail back up. “Daddy’s gonna touch your pussy now, kitten. But you’re gonna be a good girl and not move. Right?”

Y/N places her hands on Fred’s shoulders and digs her fingers in as she nods. “Yes, Daddy. Always your good girl, promise.”

Fred moves Y/N’s thong to the side and lets two of his fingers massage her wet folds, just barely brushing her clit. “Wow, kitten. So fucking wet already just from having Daddy’s cock in your mouth.” Fred sinks one of his fingers into her heat, just letting it sit there. When Y/N remains still in his lap he smiles and starts to slowly fuck her with the digit. “Good girl, kitten. Daddy is so proud of you.”

“T-thank you, Daddy,” Y/N stutters as his finger curls inside her. Fred’s moving at a frustratingly slow pace, but with how turned on she is Y/N figures she could probably cum just from this one finger alone. “Can I have more, Daddy? Please?”

Fred pulls his hand away from her core, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s neck when she whines. “How about we get one of the new toys Daddy bought you, kitten? Would you like that?”

“Yes please, Daddy. Thank you Daddy. I love you.”

Fred pulls their mouths together in a slow kiss, his hands gripping her thighs as he stands up. He places Y/N down on the bed gently and pulls away. He chuckles when Y/N pouts at him, and he presses a few quick kisses to her lips. “I love you too, kitten. Now lay back on the bed for Daddy, okay?” Fred waits for her to get into position before he walks over to their dresser where a few of the toys he’d purchased earlier are sitting. He had hoped Y/N would be a bit naughty so he could try out the paddle, but he’ll have to save that for another time. He settles on the new pink vibrator Y/N had picked out. It’s not as long or as thick as Fred, but it’ll be a nice warm up for his cock.

“Here,” Fred says as he reapproaches the bed, handing the toy to Y/N. Instead of rejoining her on the bed, Fred grabs the chair from the corner of their room and placed it at the foot of the bed. It gives him the perfect view of Y/N and what she’s about to do for him.

Y/N swallows thickly as she examines the toy. Her pussy is throbbing with the need to be filled, so much so that it takes her a few seconds to notice that Fred hasn’t rejoined her on the bed. “Daddy,” she whines, propping herself up on an elbow to look at Fred. “You’re too far away.”

“Don’t worry, kitten. Daddy’s right here. He’ll join you in a bit.” Fred bites his lip, his cock twitching at how unbelievably sexy Y/N is. “Tonight is all about trying new things, right kitten?” When Y/N nods he continues. “Well tonight Daddy is giving you permission to touch yourself. I wanna watch you fuck yourself with that pretty pink vibrator, okay? And once you’ve come all over it, Daddy will come back and touch you. Sound good, kitten?”

“Yes, Daddy. Thank you Daddy.” Y/N keeps herself propped up on her elbow so Fred can watch as she takes the vibrator into her mouth, sucking on it just like she’d sucked on Fred earlier. Once it’s wet she pulls it out of her mouth with a pop and turns it on to its lowest setting. She trails it down her chest to her breast, moaning as the vibration stimulates her nipple. If she were alone Y/N wouldn’t bother with the theatrics, she’d just go right for fucking herself on the toy. But she wants to put on a show for Fred.

“Oh Daddy,” she moans as she moves the vibrator to the other nipple. She makes direct eye contact with Fred as she starts to trail the vibrator down her stomach towards her core. She takes a moment to push the fabric of her thong aside, before she presses the tip of the vibrator against her clit. It sends shockwaves of pleasure through her body and her hips jut up as she whines.

“Feel good?” Fred asks, his eyes trained on Y/N’s dripping core. He can already feel himself getting hard again, and he starts to slowly stroke himself with a loose fist.

“So good, Daddy,” Y/N moans, turning up the vibrator up one notch. She presses it against her clit harder, her head tossing back as she groans.

“Does it feel better than Daddy’s fingers?” When Y/N shakes her head, he chuckles. “What about his mouth?”

“No, Daddy,” Y/N pants as she starts to tease her entrance with the tip of the toy. “Nothing feels better than your mouth.” Y/N starts to slowly push the toy into her, her walls clenching around it and sucking the toy in further. “Oh fuck,” Y/N moans, pushing the toy in as far as it can go.

Fred squeezes his cock, biting his lip to contain the noises he wants to make. Y/N looks ethereal as she fucks herself with the toy and Fred doesn’t want to distract her. “How does it feel, kitten? Talk to Daddy as you fuck yourself.”

“F-feels good.” Y/N increases the speed of the vibration as she starts to fuck herself with the toy slowly. The pace is agonizing, but the tip of the vibrator brushes her g-spot with every movement and she already can feel her orgasm building. “Not as good as your cock, Daddy. But so good.”

“Nothing is as good as my cock, isn’t that right, kitten? No toy or man will ever be able to make you feel as good as my cock does. That pussy belongs to me and no one else. Right, kitten?” Fred has to stop stroking himself to avoid orgasming again. The next time he cums it’ll be inside Y/N, and he still has a few plans for her before that’s going to happen.

Y/N’s toes curl as she increases the pace of her movements and she can feel her walls spasming around the toy. “Yes, Daddy. My pussy is yours. All yours,” she babbles. “Gonna come soon, Daddy. Can I come? Please. I’ve been such a good girl.”

“Gonna come already, kitten? You’ve barely even touched yourself,” Fred teases. “Do you like showing off for Daddy that much?”

Y/N moans and her back arches as her orgasm nears and she stats to slam the toy into herself harder. “Love it so much, Daddy. Love being your good girl. Always wanna be good for you.”

“You are such a good girl, kitten. You look so good fucking yourself with that toy. You’ve already got Daddy hard again.” Fred stands up, his eyes trained on Y/N’s face. “Go on then, kitten. Come for Daddy.”

“Oh, oh, Daddy,” Y/N moans as she finally reaches her climax. Her hips thrust down on the toy as pleasure washed over her and her thighs tremble from how intense her orgasm is. As she comes down from her orgasm the vibration of the toy is too much, but before she can pull it out Fred is sitting next to her on the bed and grabbing the end of the toy.

“We’re not quite done here, kitten.” Fred increases the speed of the vibrator and starts to slowly fuck Y/N with his, watching as her body writhes on the bed.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” Y/N babbles as Fred starts to fuck her with the toy faster. Her body feels like it’s on fire, and she can already feel her next orgasm building. Tears have started to leak out of her eyes, and she collapses against the bed. “Too much Daddy, please.”

Fred slows down the pace of his movements for a moment. “Do you need Daddy to stop, kitten? It’s okay if you do, you just need to say the word and Daddy will stop.”

Y/N shakes her head. “Don’t stop Daddy, please. Wanna come again. Feels so good Daddy.”

Fred starts moving at the same pace as before, leaning down to press a few kisses to Y/N’s forehead. “Such a good girl, kitten. Come for Daddy on the toy one more time and then he’ll give you his cock, okay?” Fred grabs one of Y/N’s hands in his and intertwines their fingers, before pressing them down against the bed above her head. “Good girl, kitten. Come for Daddy.”

Y/N’s back arches off of the bed as she comes, an incoherent mess of moans and whines falling from her mouth as pleasure rockets through her body. Her whole body is trembling, and it feels like she can’t breathe as Fred turns down the vibration on the toy and continues to slowly fuck her as her orgasm rolls over her.

Fred watches Y/N’s chest heave with deep breaths as she comes down from her orgasm, and he slowly pulls the vibrator out of her. He leans down to kiss her forehead gently, squeezing their intertwined hands. “You did wonderful, kitten. So, so good. I love you so much.”

“Thank you, Daddy. Thank you. I love you.” Y/N whines and tilts her chin up, silently asking Fred for a kiss.

Fred complies immediately and kisses her slowly for a few moments. He presses a few quick kisses to her mouth before pulling away. “Do you have one more in you, kitten? Are you ready for Daddy to fuck you?”

Y/N nods, letting Fred help her sit up. “Yes, Daddy. Need you so bad.”

Fred grabs the bottom of Y/N’s bra and pulls it over her head, kissing her again as his hands starts to massage her breasts. He lays her back down as he settles in between her legs, his hands running down her torso towards her core. “Can’t wait to bury my cock in your pussy, kitten. You always feel so good wrapped around me.” He slowly pulls her thong down, admiring her now naked body.

“Fuck me Daddy,” Y/N begs. “Want you to pound my pussy.”

Fred practically growls as he grips Y/N’s thighs and he pulls her down the bed closer to him. He braces himself on one hand near her shoulder, while the other wraps around the base of his cock and positions himself at her entrance. “Ready, kitten?”

“Yes, Daddy, please.”

Fred slams his hips forward, pushing all of himself into Y/N’s dripping heat. He throws one of her legs over his shoulder and grips her hip before he starts to snap his hips into her hard and fast. “Fuck, kitten. Still so fucking tight for Daddy. How does my cock feel? Is it stretching you out?”

“Daddy,” Y/N moans, starting to move her hips to meet Fred’s thrusts. She clenches around him tightly, wanting to bring him to his orgasm. She’s still extremely sensitive from her first two climaxes, and from the way Fred’s cock is relentlessly rubbing against her g-spot she knows it won’t be long before she comes again. “Your cock feels so good. Feel so full, Daddy.”

“God, kitten. Love your cunt so much. Always feel so fucking good.” Fred starts to rub harsh circles on Y/N’s clit, hoping to bring her to her third orgasm. Her walls are like a vice grip around his cock, and Fred knows we won’t last much longer. “Who does this pussy belong to kitten? Is it yours?”

“No,” Y/N pants, shaking her head. She lets out a long whine as Fred lands a particularly hard thrust and she momentarily loses the ability to speak from the pleasure flowing through her veins. “Belongs to you, Daddy. All yours.”

“That’s right, kitten. All mine.” Fred’s rhythm starts to falter as his orgasm approaches, and he starts to apply more pressure to Y/N’s clit. “Come on, kitten. Come for Daddy. Give him one more and I’ll fill you up with my seed.”

Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head and her back arches as she comes again, a low moan ripping from her throat. She relaxes against the bed as she comes down, her hands tangling in Fred’s hair and tugging on it harshly. “Please Daddy. Come inside of me, want you to fill me up.”

Fred buries himself completely in Y/N and his hips still as he comes, his cock twitching as it paints her insides with his release. He rolls his hips slowly before stopping his movements all together. He gently places Y/N’s leg back on the bed, and he leans down to kiss her softly. Fred slowly pulls out of Y/N and lays down next to her on the bed, pulling her into his chest.

“Love you Freddie,” Y/N mumbles as she presses her face into his neck. She wraps her arms around his torso and presses a few kisses to his sweaty skin. “Love you so much.”

Fred chuckles and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I love you too, Y/N.” He just holds her for a moment, pressing her to his chest tightly. He looks down at her, noticing the slightly dazed expression on her face. “I’m gonna go run you a bath, okay? Stay right here, baby.” Fred kisses her gently before he climbs out of bed and heads into their bathroom.

Once the bath is warm and filled with bubbles, Fred goes back into the bedroom and slowly picks Y/N up bridal style. He takes her into the bathroom and places her in the bathtub carefully before getting in behind her.

Y/N relaxes back against Fred’s chest, letting the warm water flow over her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, baby. Anything for you.” Fred rubs his hands up and down Y/N’s arms in the water to soothe her and presses a few kisses to the top of her head. “So, Daddy, huh?” he teases after a few minutes of silence.

Y/N laughs and tilts her head back so she can look up at Fred. “You’re in no place to talk, kitten,” she fires back.

Fred smiles and leans down to capture Y/N’s lips in a sweet kiss. The angle is awkward, but neither of them seem to care. “Hey, I’m not complaining it was wicked hot. What about you, did you enjoy trying something new?”

Y/N hums and nods, kissing Fred again. “Let’s just say I think we should head back to that sex shop again sometime soon.”

“Does tomorrow work for you?”

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley smut #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley fanfiction #fw #golden

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