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Mirror Sex - Kai Azer
Kai Azer x Reader Summary: On the most important night of her fathers career, reader feels extremely insecure in how they look thanks to Blair. Kai notices it immediately, vowing to make her feel as beautiful as she is in his eyes. warnings: nsfw 18+, mirror sex, chair sex, p in v, pet names, slightly dom Kai, dirty talk, fingering. Slight spoilers for character traits/details in books.
Kinktober MasterList
I couldn’t help but fidget with the dress as I looked at myself in the mirror. The dress was absolutely gorgeous. One of the most beautiful I had ever seen. The dark blue material complimenting my hair and skin colour. Yet I felt so insecure as I looked at myself in the mirror. I’d honestly felt like that the last few days. Blair making comments about how I looked any chance she got. Clearly trying to get in my head. Which she had. I silently cursed myself for letting her get to me.
“Stop fidgeting, you look great.” Lilliana says to me as she places some more pins in my hair, securing the messy bun she’d styled my hair into.
”I don’t feel it.” I say back glumly as I smooth out the material.
“She got in your head didn’t she?” She asks as she tightens the dress a little.
I sigh and nod. I’d told Lilliana about the comments Blair had been making about me. She’d told me to tell Kai or Kitt, knowing they wouldn’t stand for it. But I told her it was nothing. I didn’t need to worry the prince’s with more of Blair’s petty comments.
”I wish she hadn’t. All I want to do is sit in here and read, rather than face a ballroom full of people looking at me.” I admit as I meet her eyes in the mirror.
”You will do no such thing. You look stunning. And you know how much tonight means to your father. And I’m sure Kai will love how you look.”
Tonight was a big night for my father. He was getting promoted within the King’s court, hence the ball tonight. I couldn’t skip out on it. And Kai…. I cursed myself for telling Lilliana my feelings about the future Enforcer. We’d grown up together. Done everything together. He was my best friend. Until my feelings changed a few months ago. I’d started to see him in a different light. It didn’t help the way he talked to me. He had such a way with words that had me in a puddle every time he spoke. Which is probably what infuriated Blair. Encouraged her to be the way she was. We’d all grown up together. But once we got into our teenage years, she’d turned on me. Our friendship now long forgotten.
“We shall see.” I say with a sad smile as a knock sounds at my door.
Lilliana turns to open it, despite us both knowing who awaits on the other side. She opens the door to reveal my father, decked out in his most formal attire. His medals on full display. He very much looks the part of someone about to take one of the most senior positions in the King’s court.
”Well don’t you look beautiful.” He gushes as a grin adorns his lips.
”You have Lilliana to thank for that.” I say as I gesture to her, which doesn’t seem to please either of them as they share a look.
”Nonsense. I just amplified what was already there.” Her tone hinting this was not up for discussion, and I didn’t want to start an argument in front of my father. Especially not tonight.
“Exactly. Now we should get going. Can’t leave the King waiting too long on us.” He says proudly as he holds his arm out for me to take.
In normal circumstances his wife would be who he escorted in tonight. But as she’d died a few years back, I was to accompany my father into the ball tonight. A ball all for him and his promotion. Hence why my dress was blue tonight instead of the usual green required for these balls. This night was about my father. About our family. And our family colour was blue.
I reach out and lay my hand on his arm as he leads us out the door. As was pass into the hallway, a figure stops to let us pass. I know who it is before I look at him fully. I know that black hair anywhere. Kai. He bows at my father and I as we pass, my father returning the gesture with a bow of his head.
As I meet his grey eyes, he smirks at me. It’s like he knows how much I love that damn smirk of his. But for the first time in a long time, I don’t return it. My lips barely lifting at the corners as I attempt to smile at him before my father and I walk past him.
Kai
I nod and smile at the servants as they rush around to get last minute things sorted for the ball that was about to start. A ball I was very eager to attend. All afternoon I’d had to listen to Kitt’s teasing about her. I often hated how easily he my true feelings. How well he could read me. But I was glad he kept the teasing minimal when others were around.
In my nervousness and rush to leave, I’d forgotten my cufflinks for my suit jacket. And I know I wouldn’t hear the end of it if I wasn’t dressed appropriately. As I approach the hallway that leads to my room I can’t help but smile at the thought I might see her. And as if fate we’re reading my thoughts her father steps out of her room with her on his arm. I’m glad they don’t see me at first, because I’m pretty sure my mouth hits the floor with how quickly it drops open at the sight of her.
The girls always wear green to the balls held here. It’s not an official rule, but its a heavily weighted unspoken one that no one has dared to break in many years. And as much as I loved seeing her in green, I definitely preferred seeing her in blue. Blue which was now my favourite colour due to how good it looked on her.
I bow as they approach me, which her father returns with a nod of his head. I shift my attention to her, using that smirk I know she loves even though she will never admit it. But instead of an eyeroll or the reciprocated smirk she would normally give me, she barely smiles. A sadness reflected in her eyes, that should not be there tonight. All week she’s been so excited for tonight. For her fathers promotion. But right now she looks anything but excited. As they pass me, movement from her door catches my eye as her maid Lilliana pokes her head out into the hallway. She’ll know what’s going on with her. She tells Lilliana everything.
”What happened?” I demand a little too aggressively as I approach Lilliana.
She sighs and motions for me to follow her into the room before quickly closing the door behind us. “It’s Blair. She’s been saying some quite nasty things about Miss Y/N.”
Anger immediately flairs within me, and I know if Kitt was close enough I would have conjured flames in my now clenched fists.
”What did she say to her?” I ask, emphasising each word.
”I don’t know the exact things. She was quite vague on them, probably scared I’d come tell you or Kitt. But I know they were to do with how she looks. Things about her weight, and how people were only being polite if they complimented her. And I think it finally got to her after dealing with it multiple times a day.”
I squeeze my eyes shut in an effort to calm myself down. But it was hard. I had approached Blair multiple times about how she treated Y/N. But each time I did it seemed to make it worse and worse. As if me defending her only poked the fire that was Blair.
I storm out of the room, quickly heading to my own to get the cufflinks I was originally heading down here to get. But now I had a different task. Tonight I would make sure Y/N felt as beautiful as I saw her. And I would do whatever it took.
Reader
I grasp onto my fathers arm tightly as we stand in front of the closed doors the lead into the ballroom. Behind it hundreds of people were waiting for us to enter. Normally that wouldn’t phase me, as I had done it a few times before when I’d been escorted by Kitt or Kai. But thanks to Blair and her comments about me the past two weeks, all my confidence was gone. I knew her words would play on my mind as we entered that room, with everyone starting at me.
”You ok sweetheart? You seem nervous.” My father asks, dragging me from my thoughts.
I look up at him and smile. “Yeah, just lost in thought. I’m good.”
He doesn’t seem convinced by my words, but he smiles down at me and nods. He knows me well enough there’s no point in pushing the subject. If I wanted to I would tell him. And I didn’t need to bother him with some silly Blair drama right before we walked into a ballroom full of people all here for him.
The doors to the ballroom are pulled open, and I can see everyone turn to watch us enter. My heart rate picking up in response. I silently cursed Blair for making me feel this way as we made our way into the ballroom. Applause fills the air as we walk down the stairs. Everyone smiling and watching us. I sweep my gaze across the crowd, smiling at everyone around us. But as my gaze sweeps near the alter at the top of the room, I see Blair standing near it in front of Kai and Kitt. Her lips pulled into a smug smile as if she knows the affect she’s had on me. She cocks an eyebrow at me before miming throwing up in response to me. I turn my gaze downwards, a slight panic setting in as we reach the bottom of the stairs.
Everyone returns to their normal conversation as our entrance is complete, a few people rushing forward to greet and congratulate my father on his promotion. I remove myself from his arm, desperate to find a corner to hide in away from prying eyes. I spot a table hidden away in a corner that no one has occupied. Perfect.
I go to make my way over to it before a strong had lightly grasps my arm, spinning me around to them. I raise my gaze to see Kai smiling down at me . His black hair falling in its usually messy waves, and his stormy grey eyes piercing into mine.
”Where are you rushing off to so quickly?” He muses as his gaze trails over me.
I resist the urge to recoil at his gaze, Blairs words from yesterday echoing in my ears. “The princes will never want you. You’re not good enough for them. They’re only nice to you because of your father.”
“Just find spot to sit down.” I tell him, which earns him a frown.
”You know you have a spot at our usual table right?” Cocking an eyebrow at my odd behaviour.
I know I did. But as I glance over at the table I would normally sit at, I spy Blair sitting there with Kitt smirking at me. She knows she’s won. She knows she’s gotten into my head.
“I know. I just wanted a quieter spot to sit in.” I insist as I go to walk away.
Before I can get far Kai grips my hand tightly in his, pulling me towards the dancefloor in the middle of the room. It’s early in the evening so only a few couples are dancing on it, but that doesn’t seem to deter Kai who would normally wait till it was more occupied. He quickly pulls us into a dance, gliding easily across the floor as if second nature. Which it was. These dances were drilled into us from a young age. I could probably do most of these in my sleep.
“So do you want to tell me whats going on?” He asks as he spins me around.
”It’s nothing.” I tell him sternly.
I feel his grip on my hand and waist tighten before he pulls me closer, our bodies far closer than necessary for this dance.
”Oh it isn’t nothing Darling.” He growls next to my ear, my heels giving me the height to allow him to do so. “You have once chance to tell me before I reveal what I already know.”
My head snaps to him, our eyes locking with each other. He know. The cocky bastard knew somehow. And I knew exactly how. Lilliana. He must have gone to her after seeing me in the hallway earlier.
”It’s nothing. Just Blair being Blair and trying to get into my head.” I admit as I tear my gaze from his.
”It’s not nothing. She succeeded and it’s making you act weird. What did she say?”
As he asks the question we rotate on the floor, putting Blair firmly in my gaze. Her eyes already locked onto Kai and I.
”That I’m not as pretty as everyone says. Everyone just says it because of who my father is. And…”
”And what darling?” He asks as his grip tightens on me again.
”That I’m not good enough for you or Kitt. That you’re only my friend because of my father as well.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth Kai turns and pulls me off the dancefloor with him. Pulling me through the crowd in a way only the future Enforcer could. No one bats an eye at us, completely oblivious to who pushes past them. He leads us through a side door we’ve used countless times before to escape various balls. But this time we are leaving far earlier than normal.
”Kai we’re going to get in trouble. The ball has barely started.” I tell him sternly as he pulls me down a hall, leading us back to our rooms.
“Don’t worry darling, I’ll have you back before anything important happens.” He tells me as he leans around the corner to check the coast is clear before leading us down another hallway.
He pulls me down the last hallway, past my room and around a corner that I know leads to his room. A door I’ve knocked on many times. A door I’ve walked through many times but this time it feels very different as he pulls me through the doorway before closing it behind us. He leads me to the centre on the room in front of his bed, turning me to face the large mirror.
”Look at you Y/N. How could anyone think you are anything but beautiful?” He tells me, his voice barely above a whisper as he stands behind me.
I shake my head and laugh, dropping my gaze to my hands where my fingers fidget nervously. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
Kai growls from behind me as he steps forward, his chest flush to my back as his fingers grasp my chin, tilting my head up to look at my self in the mirror. “Trust me darling, I am not saying anything to make you feel better. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”
My heart beats loudly in my chest at the close proximity to Kai and the way he holds me. His other hand trailing down my side before gripping tightly onto my waist. As he pulls me flush against him, there’s no denying the truth behind his words. I can feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, as well as his arousal pushing into my lower back.
His fingers release my chin, tracing lightly down my neck, over my collarbones before skimming over the fabric of my dress that separates my breasts from his fingers. Instinctively I arch into his touch, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest as I do so.
His other hand moves from my waist, moving lower and lower, down towards the slit in my dress. His fingers find the slit with ease, slipping between the folds of the fabric to trace along the sensitive skin of my thigh. I clamp my thighs together, hoping to hide the evidence of my arousal. But I knew it was futile. He knew what he was doing. He knew how my body reacted even though we’d never been in this situation before. Kai Azer knew me better than myself. And he knew exactly what he was doing to me right now. And I had to admit, watching him trail his hands all over me in the mirror had definitely awoken something inside me.
His fingers trace where my thighs are squeezed together before trailing upwards, lightly tracing over the black underwear I’d chosen to wear for tonight. My body shivering as his touch, leaning back into him as a sigh escapes my lips.
”K-kai.” I practically moan out in the most sinful way.
”Yes darling?” His breath tickling my ear before moving hips lips to kiss down my neck.
”You don’t have t-to d-do this to m-make me feel b-better.” I stutter out as his fingers apply more pressure as they trace over the black fabric separating his fingers from where I want them most.
A low growl rumbles though his chest at my words, the hand tracing over the bodice of my dress moving towards the ties on the back. “Darling, I have been wanting this for far too long. Been longing for the day you would let me touch you like this. Making you realise how beautiful and wanted you are is just the cherry on top.”
His fingers pull on the ties with ease, the corseted back coming apart with ease and skill. Kai removes his hand from beneath the dress, causing me to whimper at the loss of the touch I was craving so much. His hands push open the corseted back before guiding it down my body. Leaving me in my black underwear and heels. I go to reach up and cover my now exposed breasts, but Kai reaches out and grasps my wrists in his hands.
”Don’t cover yourself up. You’re beautiful.” He whispers against my neck, his eyes locking with mine in the mirror.
I lose myself in those grey eyes, so fixated on them as he guides me to step out of the dress. Watching as he kneels behind me, his hands helping me step out of the heels I’d chosen for the night. As he stands up to his full height, he now towers over me. His chin resting atop my head with ease.
His fingers go back to tracing lightly over my body. But unlike before there is an urgency to them. With the dress now gone and exposing everything to Kai, I can see the control Kai is wielding over himself. I can see the fight in those stormy grey eyes as his fingers skim the bottom of my breast.
”Keep your eyes on yourself Darling. I want you to see how pretty you are while I fuck you.” He whispers in my ear.
I turn my head to look at him in shock, giving him the lul in my defence to push his other hand beneath the black underwear I still wore. His fingers sliding between my folds with ease do to how aroused I’d gotten from him barely touching me. His fingers sliding up and down before circling over the bundle of nerves that has my hips bucking into his hand earning me a chuckle.
I look back in the mirror to see Kai trail his fingers up my breast to caress the now peaked nipple. Goosebumps forming on my arm at the sensation. My body shaking as he holds me against him. And I was suddenly very glad he’d helped me remove my shoes before he started this.
As my eyes meet his, a devilish smirk forms on his face, seconds later his fingers leave the bundle of nerves he’d been toying with causing me to whimper, but it’s long forgotten and he inserts two of his fingers into me. My hands fly out, one grasping tightly onto his arm connected to the fingers he pumps slowly in and out of me. The other flying up to tangle my fingers in his curly black hair, tugging on them as my body shakes against his, earning a groan of pleasure.
Still keeping his fingers inside me and adding a third to the mix, Kai removes his other hand from me. I don’t know how he does it but he makes quick work of unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, the tie quickly discarded to the floor before he shoves half his jacket and shirt off. With equal precision and ease, his free hand caresses along the back of my thigh before joining his other hand, swiftly swapping them over before shrugging off the other half of his jacket and shirt.
He kicks his shoes off with ease, his free hand making quick work of his belt and pants which swiftly make a pile at his feet before he steps out of them and kicks them away. Due to his position behind me I don’t realise he’s stripped himself off all his clothing till arousal meets my back as his grips my hips and pulls me flush against him.
”I will make you see what I see when I look at you. Make you feel what I feel when I look at you.” He whisper against my neck as he kisses down it. His eyes flicker up and meet mine in the mirror. “And once all that is done sweetheart, I will worship you like the queen you are and have you scream my name.”
I don’t have time to respond to his words, Kai lowering us into a chair I had no idea was near us. His free hand reaching between us to grasp his thick member I barely see before he removes his fingers from me and lowers me slowly on his cock. My hands fly out, grasping on to his thighs as he slowly lowers me down. It feels like I’m being torn apart, but in the most divine way. My body shifting to accommodate Kai and his size as my head rolls back to rest on his shoulder.
Kai’s hands roam over my body, kneeding and groping whatever they can. One of his hands trailing up my side before squeezing my breast, rolling the perked nipple between his fingers as I gasp and arch my back. My eyes fly open as I lift my head from his shoulders as his other hand reaches down and plays with the bundle of nerves at my centre. In the mirror my eyes meet Kai’s as he continues to play with my most sensitive parts as I adjust to his size.
Soon I’m wriggling in his lap, my hips rocking back and forth as I seek the pleasure my body now craves from Kai and the cock he’s impaled me on. I watch as Kai smirks at me in the mirror over my shoulder. His grey eyes clouding over with a look I’d only ever seen when he shifted into his Enforcer persona. Which normally would terrify me. But as his hand guides my legs to sit either side of his before slowing sliding up between my breast and grasping me lightly around my neck, I can’t help the way I clamp around him, my body wanting to experience this new side of Kai and I.
His hips thrust up into me hard, a moan ripping from my throat as I clamp around him again, earning a guttural growl from him that vibrates through me. “See what you do to me darling. See how feral you make me.”
I do my best to nod in response, but his grip on my neck tightens.
”Words sweetheart. Use them.” He growls against my neck before bitting me lightly.
”Y-yes. I see it.” I gasp out as his fingers apply more pressure on my clit, making me shudder against him.
”Good. Because this is how I feel whenever I’m around you. Caging a beast inside me that wants to ruin you in everyway possible. To make you mine.”
I grasp onto the arms that cage me against him, holding my prisoner as I come undone against him. Becoming a mumbling and moaning mess as he continues to thrust up into me again and again. His pace never faltering, if anything increasing as the seconds tick by. Within minutes I’m nearly screaming his name. Sensing I’m close to finishing, he holds me close to him as he stands, kicking the chair away before kneeling on the ground, placing me on my hands and knees in front of him.
The new position feeling so heavenly I can’t help but lean back into him, rocking back and forth to chase the final bits of pleasure I need from him to reach my climax. I raise my head, looking up at Kai in the mirror as his hand weaves its way into my hair, using it as a way to anchor him self before slamming his hips into me as I cry out in pleasure.
”Look at yourself while I finish you. I want you to see how beautiful you look when you come undone. And know that Blair’s words are nothing but lies. Can you do that sweetheart?” He growls out, fingers tightening in my hair.
I go to nod, but I know Kai wants to hear my words. Hear me acknowledge that everything Blair said about me wasn’t true. Just a way to get at me and get in my head. Because now, kneeling on the floor in front of Kai as he fucked me into oblivion, I knew all her words were lies.
”Yes Enforcer.” I moan out.
Something in Kai’s grey eyes shifts as I use the title he will one day bear. A title that will bring fear to all those he is set loose on. But not me. I cry out again as he starts slamming into me, the tip of his cock hitting the perfect spot every time.
”Come with me sweetheart.” He almost pleas as his movements become erratic, each thrust bringing us both closer to our climax.
I look him dead in the eye as I manage to push myself up, bringing my back flush with his chest. His hands instantly caging me against him.
”Yes Enforcer.” I moan out as I place a chaste kiss to his jaw.
Kai growl echoes around the room as he grips me tightly before slamming into me one more time, both our cries echoing off the room as we tip over the edge. Both of us tumbling towards the floor before Kai cushions our fall with the air magic he borrows from me as he cradles me in his arms as we ride out our high. Both of us trying to catch our breath as we lie in peaceful bliss on his bedroom floor. Blair’s words now long forgotten as I lie in the safety of Kai’s arms.
@zaraaaabear @bingazer @katanadoesnotexist @strangeeaglepost @puttyly @kyl13sm1l3y @wildflowermooon @oliviajm2 @honethatty12 @lesehexe
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-> isn't it good, norwegian wood?
GETO X READER MDNI, slow burn, fluff, angst, smut, angsty geto, comfort, reader is kinda tired, plot
you and geto meet 6 years after his defection
WORD COUNT: 8.6k
TAGS: @sakuichan, @username23345
part 1
ao3 version
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You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the screen of your computer. You were supposed to be completing a report but the sun had long set and your brain refused to cooperate. Down-heartedly, you buried your head in your hands, stifling a yawn. Everything just seemed so… bad. Your hair was greasy, you were beginning to smell yourself through your deodorant and perfume, your coffee was cold, and you were the only person left in the office. Even Nanami had gone home 2 hours prior, leaving you to struggle over your half-finished report. Unfortunately for yourself and your coworkers, there has been an influx of curse users in Japan, meaning that your compulsory hours had been increased. At first you were delighted by the idea of some extra pocket money, but with all of the work you had been doing, there was no time to enjoy it. You knew it was getting worse too, you hadn't seen Gojo in a week and Shoko’s dark circles were deepening with every wave of injured sorcerers that washed up at her office. Of course, the higher-ups weren’t any help, so it had become the norm for you to wake up at 6am and return home at 10pm as you cracked down on the damages that the elders refused to assist with. This had been happening for a few months now, and you were exhausted. If it were any other situation, you’d request time off, but you knew that your coworkers would take on the burden if you didn’t. So there you were, fingers hovering over the keys as you tried to recount your hectic shift. It seemed so cruel, after stepping over so many dead bodies and dodging death countless times yourself, to be forced to relive it so soon. If they wanted to know what was happening, they could see for themselves. In fact, you’d welcome it. Maybe then, they’d dish out the work a bit more ethically.
You blinked slowly, attempting to force a rise of energy inside of you. You didn’t want to fall asleep at work again. Somewhere in the background, rain pattered against the windows. Shit. You reluctantly glanced at your screen, squinting at the brightness in contrast with the dark room. Realistically, you knew that you weren’t going to get anything else done that night, but you also knew that if you didn’t do it then, you would have to do it later. You groaned, wanting to slam your head against your desk more than anything. Tomorrow. You’d do it tomorrow. If you went home then and had a decent sleep, you’d be more motivated tomorrow. That’s what you told yourself. You were more than happy to turn the computer off and pack up your belongings. More and more, you were glad that you commuted by train, because the naps you took then were sacred, driving would’ve pushed you over the edge.
Arriving home looked like throwing your shit on the floor and staring blankly at the fridge, realising you were supposed to shop for groceries that day. Tomorrow you were headed into the countryside to check out suspicious activity, there was no way you’d be able to get your shopping done then. Usually you did city missions, but you were covering for the students. God knows they were doing too much as well. You sighed. There were enough ingredients for you to cook a meal, but you were so tired right now… you could go without… just for one night. Some nights you didn’t even change out of your clothes and you had given up on makeup a while back. At this point, your home felt like it was only your bed. Your TV, speakers, sofas, and books had gone untouched for so long, you’d be surprised if they weren’t blanketed with dust by now. You showered, of course, but it seemed like a mere blink before your body hit your bed. Sleep didn’t rest you anymore, but it was some sort of break in the chaos of your life. At the very least, you were happy to have that.
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The commute into rural Japan was pleasantly silent. It relaxed you to watch the swaying meadows roll past, the white splodges of sheep like a stroke of oil paint as the train hurtled past. You vaguely registered one or two others on the other side of the carriage, you remembered the monk especially. To your knowledge, it was your first time seeing a monk in public. Initially, the journey had been like any other: salesmen upon salesmen, and then a few. Each figure amongst the shuffling mass clad in a suit and tie, dark hair brushed back, and mouths set in a practised line between grey, hollow cheeks as they scrutinised each other through their furrowed eyebrows like some sort of Kubrick character. As the familiar robotic voice announced the train’s arrival at the city-centre, an encore of clicking shoes and soft whines of swinging briefcases played in a harsh crescendo, the piece hitting its chorus as the doors opened, and the salesmen poured out like river water through a broken dam. After that, it was quiet. On a weekday morning, not many were heading into the middle of nowhere, but it made sense to you that a monk might. The other man looked like a foreigner, so that wasn’t widely suspicious to you either, though you might have considered it further had you slept more the previous night. After an hour or so, your eyelids fluttered shut and you began to drift in and out of sleep, the beginnings of gentle conversation between the few other passengers barely registered by you, their low voices becoming incomprehensible as they were drowned out by the ambience of the train. Perhaps, if you had been more alert, you would have noticed that they were heading to the location of the investigation. Maybe, if you had realised that, you would have listened closer and overheard the utterance of a very familiar name. However, the world around you was in limbo, your drowsiness dosing your nerves in soothing honey as your eyelashes rested against your warm cheeks. Sleep was euphoric. It had become such a relief to you that you had abandoned any hopes of seeking pleasure through strangers or potential romantic interests, the effort of understanding and compromising was exhausting in itself and your mind still hadn’t gotten over your teen fling. You thought about it sometimes, the potential to reunite with him, but every year it seemed more and more impossible. Since he left, your coworkers relied on you more and watched you with the underlying concern that one day you would slip through their fingers. Although, another reason lingered at the back of your head. It had been 6 years, did he even still want you? You told others that you had moved on, but he waited at the back of your mind, tapping his foot impatiently. He appeared in your dreams as a looming shadow, only recognisable through the kind smile it bore. You also saw him sometimes in the faces of others, their dark eyes making you stop in the headlight of their stare- so close, yet so different to the expression you could love. Besides those torturous reminders, what you could remember of him was hazy, in fact you barely remembered what he looked like. That didn’t stop you from missing him, however. You remembered the comfort he once brought you. Perhaps that was what you missed most, more than his body or charm.
You blinked hazily as the train approached your stop. Lethargically, you reached for your bags, pulling them over your shoulder as you stepped off into the station, distantly followed by the other two passengers from your carriage. You winced as you finally made it outside, light rain beginning to fall from the greying sky. However, it was fulfilling to inhale the fresh air- much fresher than the air at Shibuya station- as you rushed to your taxi, and drove towards the investigation site which, today, was an abandoned hospital. Before your arrival, you instantly knew there was something wrong. It wasn’t unusual that the area was void of human life, after all, it wasn’t near any residential areas. Sure, it wasn’t particularly unusual that the plantation was yellow and clearly overgrown either. However, two of the windows on the second floor had been shattered, which wasn’t particularly unusual by itself, but the broken shards were littered below the outside of the building, rather than the inside. See, that was unusual. It had been broken from inside. Someone had needed to escape. Fast. Discreetly. There were fire exits left, right, and centre- as you’d expect from a hospital- it was strange that someone would choose to evacuate from a window on the second story. You knew it must have been an ugly building, even before it was neglected, the dull boxiness of the hospital seeming like the kind of brutalist hellscape you’d find in a post-Soviet city. The upper edges of the building were blackened by the weather, and the only visible colour could be found in the yellowed blinds which clattered and trembled behind the savaged windows. Your wary gaze found a half-filled syringe containing ominous orange liquid, discarded in the mud. It made sense since it was a hospital… but when you really thought about it… how did it end up there? It looked like this place had been practically untouched since its closure which was… probably around 10 years ago…
A shiver ran down your spine.
If the curse had anything to do with needles, you wouldn’t hesitate to turn around, you decided.
You hadn’t really been given clear instructions, in fact, you weren’t given much more than a place and a time. With a glance at your watch, you noted that you were 5 minutes early as planned, so it made some sort of sense to why you couldn’t see the window you were supposed to be meeting. It was only meant to be a quick chat to fill you in on the details before you looked for yourself, but you had assumed they may have arrived a little early anyway. Apparently that wasn’t the case, so you waited in the rain, feet planted in the overgrown grass and shivering as cold droplets trickled down your neck. The next time you checked your watch, it was the time of the meeting, and there wasn’t a single person in sight. Momentarily, you considered venturing inside. Maybe something had happened to them. You glanced around. The guy couldn’t have gotten lost, could he? It’s a pretty obvious landmark.
10 minutes late.
You were getting restless. And drenched.
The window could wait, you were heading inside.
The front door was unlocked, most likely in anticipation of your visit, and you walked into what you assumed had once been the reception. Everything was so… grey. You could tell that at one point, they had made an effort of decorating with bright colours, but years of neglect had sucked out the life like a backstreet dentist, leaving everything the same dull grey; not to discount the slight variations such as grey-with-a-hint-of-mustard-yellow and grey-but-slightly-pink-but-it’s-mostly-grey-who-are-you-fooling. It stank of wet paper and what you prayed wasn’t asbestos, as well as a lingering trace of chemicals. The mould was a delightful pop of colour however, adding a daring element of almost-grey-but-green onto the aged, pale wallpaper. You grimaced, seriously considering whether the window had been organised to hand over a hazmat suit and a Bible before you gave your life to spilled cleaning agents and an undiscovered fungus. Perhaps they’d name it after you when you died. It was the least they could do, really.
After you journeyed up the dark stairs, you approached the operating rooms, and a wash of dread doused you like cold water. Whatever it was, you were close to it. Very close.
Because of your distinct lack of briefing, you barely knew who or what you’d be facing. There was a growing feeling that you recognised something, whether it was the cursed energy signature from the imminent threat or the familiar arms of your creator, it sparked a powerful reaction in your gut. You squinted, trying to make out the outline of the doorway using the little daylight that reached the corridor. You couldn’t help but notice how it was shockingly tidy. Sure, it was fucking disgusting, but everything was in its right place, tucked away by the ghostly hands of a nurse one decade ago. For some reason, it made it all the more terrifying. You stopped in front of the door, attempting to breathe through the suffocating pressure of whatever was beyond the door. It really was familiar, but it was too powerful for you to focus on it. It was like trying to fight a court trial whilst being waterboarded, and you weren’t entirely sure you could do it in normal conditions anyway, but you definitely couldn’t whilst partially submerged in liquid. You knew that for sure. The sheer amount of cursed energy seeping through the cracks of the door was headache-inducing. You gritted your teeth.
It was disastrously clear, then. Whatever or whoever was on the other side of the door was not your intended opponent. This mission should’ve been a field trip for you. This, however. This was a Gojo-level enemy. Not as strong, of course, but it lay somewhere in the gaping gap between the strongest grade 1 sorcerer and Gojo himself. Needless to say, it was too strong for you. You could accept that fact easily. In all honesty, your pride had left you the moment you entered the hospital.
Slowly, you backed away from the door, eyes fixed on the source of the outrageous cursed energy signature. It was consuming, the same way smoke engulfs a room. Your breaths were shallow and your limbs felt numb, you were probably shaking too, but you knew it would be ok if you kept your existence unknown and made a nimble escape. As dull light began to assist your vision, relief filled you. You were almost out. A few more steps and you’d be back in the stairwell. Then you could run.
Except you couldn’t. Because your back had hit a wall. A wall that hadn’t been there before.
You looked left, then right.
No… there definitely… shouldn’t be a wall behind you…
Oh, God.
“Are you the window?” you nervously grinned at nobody in particular. You were staring too, wide-eyed at the dark corridor before you, well-aware of your hands shaking, “You’re awfully late, you know…”
“My apologies.”
“Ha…”
The sound of a smooth, human voice was somewhat of a relief to you.
You could talk your way out of this one.
“You know, I’ve been waiting for this for a very… long… time...”
…Or maybe you couldn’t.
Inwardly you groaned, wanting to cry, “Fancy being a good Samaritan and forgive me for my sins?” you tried. It was always worth preaching kindness to your potential murderer in what could very well be your final moments. They didn’t teach that at school, but it must’ve worked at least once before, right?
“Enlighten me.” The person- a man- behind you sounded stiff.
“I dunno,” you smiled weakly, “It might seem difficult to believe but… there could be a few people who’d have a bone to pick with me right now.”
The man behind you hummed in thought, “I’m shocked.”
“Really?” Since you started working more hours, you’d dealt with countless curse users. It’d be a surprise to you if there wasn’t a request for your bounty for you on some dodgy website. As much as you’d love a copy of your own ‘DEAD OR ALIVE’ poster to frame, the ‘ALIVE’ part terrified you. Unfortunately, being a wanted person wasn’t quite the honour that Luffy made it out to be.
“No.”
You scowled. In response, the man’s voice rang out behind you, “You don’t recognise me?”
“Aww,” you turned your head slightly to grin over your shoulder, “Did you think you were special? I’m sorry if I didn’t make it clear that we weren’t gonna be exclusive.”
Suddenly you were being spun around.
“Are you sure that you don’t recognise me?”
You blinked.
You blinked twice.
That voice…
“Holy shit.”
The man looked at you in the dark.
“You’re that monk from the train.” …No… you knew him...
The man’s grip on you tightened, “Come on...”
You winced, “Is that… not it?” When he didn’t reply, you partially disregarded your fear in lieu of guilt, leaning closer to squint at him, “I can’t really see, sorry...”
“Oh, hang on-”
No, you definitely recognised him… buried deep in your subconscious… somewhere…
“Holy shit.” you exclaimed.
“Geto?”
Exasperated, Geto looked down at you.
“Obviously.”
“Sorry.” you smiled, sheepishly, “You wouldn’t have happened to see a window around here, would you?”
Geto’s frowned, “There never was one, it was a set-up.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to intercept the students… but you’re here instead.” You cringed.
Man, he’s pissed…
“Geeze, sorry.” you drawled.
It was strange seeing him again. Truthfully, you had no idea how to act around him. You still couldn’t see him very well, but the glistening gold silk on his robes made him shine like a heavenly figure, though considering his criminal record… he probably wouldn’t be an angel.
There were better places to run into your teen crush-turned-serial killer.
“There’s a special grade curse in there.” you pointed to the operating room you’d just backed away from.
Geto looked at you strangely, “I know, I put it there.”
Of course.
“Seriously?” you muttered, embarrassed, “Almost gave me a heart attack, you know…”
An awkward silence arose between the two of you. You had planned your reunion with him countless times when you were younger. Out of the hundreds of different scenarios, none of them started like this.
“I… um…” you scratched the back of your neck, “Wanna go outside? It’s just… it’s dark in here… I can’t, you know…” you cleared your throat, “I can’t see you.”
“It’s raining.” Geto replied dubiously, watching you as if he expected something,
You raised an eyebrow, “You scared or somethin’?”
Geto snorted, “Of course not, excuse me for not wanting to get soaked.”
“Right.” you’d forgotten about the rain, it wasn’t difficult to believe that it had gotten heavier than before, “We can sit in the reception if you don’t mind getting mesothelioma.”
“It’s not exactly ideal,” Geto sighed, “but sure that works.”
You wanted to slap yourself for the awkwardness between the two of you, but there was something about it which reminded you of your fondness for Geto. That was it, wasn’t it? The fact you were always able to be a social disaster around him was what initially drew you to him. He was patient, but not pitiful. Truthfully, sometimes he was even worse than you.
He followed you to the bottom floor as you headed towards the front door. Once you were outside, you turned to get a proper look at him. True, he was recognisable, but he had changed so much in these last years. Notably, Geto’s face had slimmed, emphasising the sharp angle of his cheekbones and the hollowness of his cheeks. He was less of a boy now, and if you hadn’t known him beforehand, he would’ve intimidated you. His hair was longer too, the strands framing his face reached the peak of his nose whilst the rest touched his lower back. Geto’s eyes were exactly how you remembered them though; deep and pensive. He had the kind of resting expression which made you second guess yourself when you suggested something. It had always seemed that with every casual, self-deprecating joke, Geto was analysing it, carefully peeling the fragile layers of the satirical overtones to expose your innermost vulnerabilities. To many, it was unnerving. Any casual comment intended to pull a negligent laugh from others received a dark, analytical look from Geto. That’s how it had always been, and it’s why you had taken a liking to him. Often, you couldn’t find the confidence to admit to distress or insecurity, but Geto always knew. He knew from the way you would chastise yourself for the smallest mistakes, and the fact you’d stop talking when you were overwhelmed. You didn’t have to say anything, and that was a relief to you. Geto knew. You wondered if he knew how you were feeling now- you sure didn’t.
“Are you ok?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. He was always difficult to read but he just looked at you. He wasn’t glaring, he wasn’t staring, he was just… looking. You watched him expectantly. “Geto?” you pressed. Geto didn’t respond, at least verbally. He just looked moderately pained, as he once did when he’d linger in the morgue with Shoko. His eyes flickered from you to the ground, almost… shyly? Was he shy?
“I was waiting for you.” Geto muttered, “You never came.”
Oh. Yeah.
Nevermind.
The honeymoon of your reunion ended with the clanging of a guillotine over cupid’s head. Inside of you, a small, childish hope had foolishly sprouted, praying that he’d be understanding. You cringed as you felt it shrivel up in the deepest depth of your gut, the blossoms blackening and ripping as it rotted within you.
“You act like your defection didn’t permanently scar the jujutsu society.” Geto raised his eyebrows, “Yes, it did.” you pressed before he could protest, “I couldn’t leave, even if I had wanted to. Yaga and Gojo wouldn’t let me out of their sight.”
And just like that, you were arguing.
“Did you even try?” he scoffed.
You groaned, “Believe it or not, Geto, becoming the housewife of a wanted criminal isn’t quite on my agenda. In fact, because of you I have more work to do than ever. We all do.”
“Just because everyone else is willing to suffer a poor job doesn’t mean you have to in order to save them.” Geto narrowed his eyes.
“Sure, but some don’t have a choice.” you challenged, “Remember Gojo?”
Geto scoffed, “Remember Satoru? Of course I do.” It was a low blow, you realised, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to feel guilty. “Who do you think I am?” he asked, voice low and hurt.
You shifted, awkwardly, “You left him to suffer.”
“He’s suffering?” Geto’s tone dulled.
You didn’t know whether you wanted to laugh or cry, “You thought he wouldn’t?” a pause. “Well,” you added, quietly, “I don’t know if he’s realised it yet but… yeah, he is.”
“Oh.” Geto’s lips thinned, offence flashing in his narrowed gaze, “Why would you tell me that?” he muttered, flinching backwards as if your words had punctured him like a misfired bullet.
“You wanted to know why I didn’t join you. That’s why.” You looked away, failing to grasp for words that would just fix things between you, “Well, that amongst other reasons…” You didn’t want to explain your own turmoil and struggles. Love didn’t equate to trust. You loved his touch and who he was, but you couldn’t trust the man in front of you to hear you and react fairly. It was all too predictable, and you feared that if you told him, your instincts would be proven. Sure, he’d always been cunning and sly, but also… manipulative. The word struggled to materialise in your brain, your subconscious trying to sugarcoat it as ‘intelligence’ and ‘caring’ in its reluctance to face his change.
His upset gaze softened, “Other reasons?”
You shook your head, “It’s not important right now.”
“I’d beg to differ.” Geto argued, “I have a right to know.” He was pushing you, testing you, even. You weren’t in the right headspace for this, you were so tired… so, so tired…
“You have no such right,” you scoffed, “but I apologise that you weren’t prepared for the consequences of your own actions.” A tense moment passed and you sighed, “If it helps, I wasn’t either.”
It was a poor attempt at softening the blow of your unfiltered words, but it wasn’t untrue. Betrayal pinched and poked at the supple flesh of your heart. You needed to realise it but… it wasn’t that easy. “No,” Geto stepped towards you, “It doesn’t.”
“Pity.” you rolled your eyes.
The dry remark left your lips before you could stop yourself. Geto froze. The silence that followed weighed on your shoulders, guilt creeping up on you.
“I’m sorry.” you murmured, “I shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up.”
The crawling discomfort at your own insincerity grasped your shoulders with heavy talons, the needle-sharp fingertips grazing your gentle skin, teasing your raw skin as blood threatened to bead in their wake and flow.
“It’s fine.” Geto said, stiffly.
You groaned internally, it all felt so childish. For a fleeting moment, you questioned the boy you once knew. Was Geto the boy who’d read with you on those humid summer nights, or was he the unsettling murderer in front of you?
“I wasn’t expecting you to keep to your promise.” he added, bluntly.
“I mean, I was 17,” you agreed carefully, “I had no idea what the future would hold. Neither did you.”
It was a lifeline, the final one you could spare. You could only beg that Geto would catch it with splayed hands.
Geto looked at you with scrutiny, “That’s true.”
It was enough. You could work with this.
You watched him warily, nodding slowly.
“Was it worth it?” Geto asked, seemingly more neutral.
Was it worth it?
“I don’t know.” You replied, honestly, “Things could be better.”
Geto stepped forward, putting his hand on your shoulder, “Then come with me. If things are worse, go back and I’ll take the blame.”
All too forward, predictable and exactly what you feared.
“…if you want to,” he added a second too late.
With narrowed eyes, you ignored him, instead choosing to glance around the clearing, noting the same emptiness as before. Geto didn’t move, his hair starting the curl as rain drenched the two of you. His hand on your shoulder started to feel heavy as he squeezed you gently, letting the presence of his reluctant affection be known, despite his hard stare. What could you do? You were still as unsure as you were 6 years ago about joining him.
“Where are you staying?” you asked, the action of your head cocking allowing cold droplets to trickle down the side of your neck. You regretted it instantly. Perhaps a change of environment would help things. Perhaps it’d help you understand.
“Not far from here.” Geto responded monotonously.
“I’d like to come over.” you tried, “Not for long.”
He nodded to himself, “Ok.”
Then he spared you a small smile and your heart leaped with the first and only genuine affection he’d shown you since you’d reunited.
That was him. That was Geto, right there. It wasn’t much, but you revelled in what you had.
You inwardly sighed, tiredly.
Maybe, just maybe, the two of you would get there in the end.
As you journeyed to his home, which really was in the middle of nowhere, you sat side by side in what was mostly silence. The two of you talked too, dropping shallow comments about your lives and complaints about the overly-touchy couple on the other side of the carriage as you took the train a few stops further out. More and more, Geto seemed like himself, even if the progress was minuscule. It was something. If anything, hope thumped in your chest- naive hope albeit, but hope nonetheless. After a while, you finally approached his home. It looked small, yet lived-in. Outside, rows of vegetation orbited the building, as well as trees bearing fruit in various stages of ripeness.
“The girls are out, I’m afraid.” Geto called behind his shoulder as he unlocked the door, holding it open for you.
“Girls?” you inquired as you walked in, “Daughters or hostages?”
Geto laughed quietly, “Daughters.”
“You got a chick pregnant?” your response was paired with the twitch of your lip and the stutter in your step. You knew it was hypocritical, the sinking disappointment, you chastised yourself for feeling it… however...
The door clicked behind him and you heard his footsteps stilled behind you, “Does it matter?”
“Yes.” you replied, shortly.
“C’mon.”
You turned to look at him, blankly.
“Of course not.” Geto rolled his eyes.
You blinked, “Oh.”
“They’re adopted.” The way Geto said your name afterwards was in disbelief, “I told you I waited, didn’t I?”
“You may have mentioned it,” you sniffed, “yes.”
Geto raised an eyebrow, “You’re unbelievable,” he walked past you, brushing your shoulder as he did so, “you’re seriously more butthurt by that than the fact I murder people?”
“Ok?” you felt your cheeks burn, “And what if I am? I have priorities, Geto.”
He turned to look at you, his eyes boring into yours, “So, your priorities are… what, exactly?
“Um…” You scratched the back of your neck, “Nothin’” you waved your hand dismissively with a strained grin. “None of your business, really.” you rambled, searching desperately for some sort of a reaction, “You could use it against me, y’know? It’d be very dangerous if I told you.”
Geto looked at you strangely, “…Right.”
He was supposed to smile… or laugh… or do something at the very least, not just… walk past you…
You wanted to press rewind and try this all again.
You wanted to go home.
After a lost moment, you followed him helplessly. It was a simple home. There was more evidence of life there than there was at your home, you knew that for sure. Drawings that were clearly drawn by an adolescent hand were woven throughout the decorations, depicting a family of three. It was clear that they were close. You felt left out. It seemed you had missed out on so much. Maybe Geto was right, maybe this was a better life. It still didn’t remove your responsibility in the shaman world, but Gojo’s students were the strongest they’d seen in years, right? Maybe you were allowed this. Maybe you were allowed to welcome your lover as they walked through the door in the evening, embracing them softly. Maybe you could have this life. It seemed completely out-of-touch, you couldn’t just leave. You knew that. However… something was stopping you.
Geto led you to his kitchen, pouring you a glass of water.
“Oh?” you took the glass from him with a small smile.
Geto pushed it into your hands, “Don’t tell me you’ve miraculously stopped being so dehydrated since we last talked.”
He had a point, to be fair.
“Yeah, you’re right.” You took a sip of the cool water, “I don’t think I’ve had pure water for around 48 hours…” you murmured absentmindedly, the rim of the glass pressed against your lower lip as you spoke, your breath fogging up the glass.
Geto grimaced, “Shouldn’t you be taking care of yourself? You’re not a teenager anymore.” he looked at you, clearly unimpressed, “I just hope your diet is faring better.”
“You’d think, right?” you watched his lips thin.
Geto muttered your name under his breath, “Seriously?”
“Been too busy.”
“When was the last time you ate?”
You hummed pensively, “Good question.”
The way Geto spoke your name this time was dull, his eyebrows furrowed. You took a sip of water.
“Fine, I’ll cook you something now,” he turned his back on you, “do you still like spicy food?”
You watched as he gathered ingredients and boiled a pot of water. It was a shy wash of comfort, being back in his presence like this. Lord knows how long it had been since someone last took care of you. The rising smell of fresh vegetables seemed almost foreign to you at this point. Whilst the noodles were cooking, Geto disappeared momentarily as he changed into a baggy t-shirt and trousers. There he was, he was more like the man you remembered. Less tired, perhaps, though maybe you had taken on that burden in exchange. You didn’t speak as you idly sipped on the water, feeling like a small child as he cooked the first proper meal that you would eat in ages. He hummed softly as he mixed the broth, it was something you hadn’t seen him do before. His voice was low, almost inaudible, as he repeated the melody of a song you knew he loved…
What was it…?
Geto’s humming turned to soft singing as he stirred the broth.
…Isn’t it good?
Norwegian wood…
Oh, now you remembered it.
…She asked me to stay,
And she asked me to sit anywhere…
You hadn’t heard that song for years, not since he left. Geto used to play music as he cooked, ambling around the kitchen as he hummed to himself. You remembered how Gojo used to tease him about his ‘old man’ music. You did too. Affectionately, of course. It seemed so long ago, how you’d all linger in the doorway, despite his questionable music taste, hoping to grab a bite of whatever he was cooking. You forgot how good of a cook he was, you were looking forward to your meal.
As he cooked, the songs changed, ranging from ones you remembered to what you guessed were newer additions. When Geto began dishing up the food, he gestured for you to sit in the living room. And so you did, settling onto a sofa as you eagerly anticipated your meal. After a moment, he sat down opposite you, placing the bowl on the coffee table in front of you with a gentle tap.
You felt the warmth of the steam below your chin as you picked the bowl up.
“None for yourself?” you asked before experimentally sipping the broth.
It was as good as you remembered, you gladly noted.
Geto shook his head, “I already ate.”
“Ah.” you took a mouthful of noodles, “Makes sense.”
You ate in what was mostly stiff silence, interrupted by a few passing comments about the food or your lives. Out of the corner or your eye, you noticed Geto watching you, head resting on his hand. His lips were tugged into a pensive frown, his gaze gentle yet lost, as if a whirlwind of thoughts happened to be storming in his mind. Had you been less tired, maybe you’d be doing the same. Right now, however, you were enjoying some warm, hearty home cooking. Overthinking could wait, you were hungry.
“What will you do when you’re done here?” Geto asked suddenly, voice raised.
You swallowed your mouthful, studying him carefully, “Huh?”
“You would be less overworked if you reported me, so will you?”
What kind of question was that?
“I’m not gonna do that,” you swirled the noodles through the broth absentmindedly, “Though I do have a question…”
Geto raised an eyebrow.
“Assuming I don’t report you, I’ll be neutral,” slowly, you sat back, watching him, “Taking that neutrality assumes the side of the oppressor, then who do I side with?”
He sighed, “Me. Probably. That’s what you think, right?”
“Is it?,” your fingers drummed against the armrest, noting his tone like a pinch of salt mixed into a pot of honey, “Does that make Gojo the oppressed?”
“Going by that logic, yes,” he replied, too easily.
You took another mouthful, suddenly grateful for the distraction of eating, “And I?”
“Shooting yourself in the foot,” Geto said after a pause, “to you.”
“To me?” you echoed quietly, “I guess.”
“Still going to protect me?” Geto’s lip twitched as he watched you, ever-so carefully.
“I guess.” you repeated. The last thing you needed from him was a rivalry, you were initially hoping for a truce of some sort but the void darkness in his eyes drained the last hope you had. “I’m not here for justice or to solve anything, I’m here for money, mostly.”
Geto snorted shortly, “No different to the rest, then.”
“I guess not.” you chose to ignore the sting behind his words.
The two of you settled into waves of rumbling quiet as you finished your food. Geto seemed somewhat more distracted as he began to hum again, almost inaudible to you this time. You missed this- him, even. Despite the obvious, he held some sort of familiarity to you that not many did- now that you savoured. The two of you came together as you tried to fit together again, pushing and pulling at each other like oil and water.
“Y’know,” you placed the bowl down, “you’re acting all strange.”
Geto grinned, thinly, “Am I?”
“You are,” you couldn’t help but match his expression, “you know it too.”
His smile widened like the Cheshire cat, “Do I?”
“You do.”
A second of silence lugged by like a three ton truck.
“I missed you, Geto.”
The rain knocked against the windows gently, beading like crystals in front of the puffs of smoky black clouds consuming the sky. The lack of sunlight meant the room became darker too, the dim light doing little to relieve the gloominess of the bad weather. Outside, a wind chime rattled with the gust of the temperamental wind. Inside, the soft tapping of Geto’s fingers against the wooden table paused, leaving the ticking of the clock to slice through the ambient howling and tapping of the weather against the walls. Inside of you, however, your heart and brain played a tentative game of tug of war. You just did something big.
Like, really fucking big.
Well… not really, but nobody had told that to Geto, evidently, suggested by the way he gasped at you almost comically, eyebrows arched.
“I also like you, so if you wouldn’t mind fishing out the astronomical log up your ass, I’d like to have a conversation with you about it.”
Geto coughed, “Ok.”
“Ok?”
“Ok.”
You looked at him, an eyebrow raised.
“You didn’t even try to reach out to me.” he started, bluntly. “You didn’t try to find me. None of you did.”
You swallowed, suddenly feeling very unprepared.
Geto continued, “I’m not even upset that you didn’t come with me, you just didn’t tell me.” you nodded, mind racing.
“I couldn’t.” you replied.
“And that’s the worst bit,” His lip twitched as he looked away, “I can’t even be mad at you for it. You were just protecting yourself-”
“And you.”
Geto blinked.
“I was being tracked.”
Geto’s lips parted slightly.
“Same reason Gojo and Shoko didn’t come to you,” you told him, “Gojo knows where you are, he has done since the day he found out you left.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry, Geto.”
“I mean,” Geto coughed, “It’s fine I guess, but-”
“Not for that,” you rushed, gaining an unimpressed look from the man opposite you, “I’m sorry that things happened this way. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you when you were spiralling. I’m sorry that there was nobody there for you when you left.” you took a deep breath, “I wasn’t the person you needed me to be, though I’d like to be. If you’ll let me.”
Geto studied you, pensively, “Does that mean you’re staying?”
You winced, “I’m not leaving you again.” you offered. You weren’t quite ready to admit to yourself that you were leaving home. Not yet, anyway. “I’m not doing any of the murdering though, you can do that.” you grimaced.
After a pause, Geto laughed.
“Ok.” His gaze was warmer than it had been, more open, “I’d love that.”
“Murder? Yeah I figured.” you muttered despite yourself.
Geto simply laughed harder. He really was a sight for sore eyes. The way he smiled, the way he looked away when he smiled, the way his hair fell over his face when he shook too much… God, you-
“I missed you too.”
Your mind went black.
Oh, you had told him, hadn’t you? And he felt the same way. Surely there was a logical conclusion to this.
You stood and moved to sit next to him. Then you leaned towards him, noticing the way he flushed at the proximity.
“Can I?” your hands hovered in front of you as you moved to touch him.
He nodded.
Your hands tentatively reached to cradle the sides of his face, thumbs gently rubbing circles into the curve of his jaw. Geto’s hands moved to cover yours as he watched you, wide eyed.
“Can we? I’ve wanted this for so long… Just- trust me, ok?” you whispered, stumbling over your words, your voice low. He nodded faintly before his eyes flashed with indescribable emotion.
“Ok.” Geto sighed, almost inaudibly to you.
You smiled, “Ok.”
As you withdrew your touch, your fingertips lingered on his skin, grazing the surface of his soft, olive cheeks. He tilted his head as you moved, chasing your warm palms.
“Can I kiss you… Suguru?”
You saw him stiffen as his name rolled off your tongue. Geto blinked at you before the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a grin. In place of a verbal response, he mimicked your earlier actions, taking your head into his palms. His touch was gentle, yet firm as he guided your face towards his. The feeling of Geto’s warm breath on your smiling lips made you buzz with anticipation, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering as you itched towards the sweet nectar of his mouth. He met you in the middle, fingers threading through your hair as he ever-so gently scratched your scalp with his blunt nails. You sighed, content, eyelashes fluttered close against your hot cheeks. It was a nostalgic kiss, a loving one, not the same heated one you shared so long ago. As your lips moved against one another’s, you were fixated on the lingering heat of his body, craving it like an addict for the mere seconds the two of you parted for air.
As soon as Geto urged your lips open with the swipe of his tongue, you knew you weren’t going back.
The desperately intimate movements of your tongues became hypnotic: rubbing, prodding, tangling. Your hands had slipped round his neck, your chest pressed against his torso. When you parted, you buried your head in the crook of his neck, lips pressed against the flushed skin as you panted. Above you, Geto gently stroked your hair, playing with the soft strands as you both gave yourselves time. You weren’t teenagers anymore, you couldn’t jump into something so intense without the knowledge that there was definitely an unwavering mutual understanding between the two of you. Slowly, you pulled away, looking up at him with wide eyes. The hand in your hair moved to brush the stray hairs away from your face, tucking them neatly behind your ear.
“Are you ok?” Geto murmured, leaning into you so that his lips hovered millimetres away from your cheek. The proximity, whilst lustful on the surface, carried more depth than you could comprehend. The weight of his hands, his lips, his voice, his words, were like bricks in your pockets, pulling you impossibly deeper into the encompassing aura of - just him. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was in particular that pulled you to him, realistically you knew it was a mixture of the history you shared and the absence you’d endured, but it was overwhelming and not enough all at once. Maybe it’d be a while until the trust you’d once shared would be recovered. Maybe it never would be. The consequences of your assumptions and his isolation could haunt you together. His radicalisation, your indecisiveness… maybe you were a lost cause, but the way hummed so soothingly as you nodded your affirmation doused your doubts immediately. He kissed you again, harsher this time, his grip on you tighter as he held you with desperation. You knew then, if you left now, you were never to be forgiven. But if you stayed... If you stayed, he’d never let you go.
Each touch rolled into another like the crashing of waves. Your shirt had been discarded by the fireplace a while ago, leaving Geto to revise the curves and contours of your torso with his left hand, fingers dipping into the hollows of your ribs and splaying over the small of your back. The whole time, he watched you, eyebrows pinched and mouth frowning in thought as he traced the tempestuous dark circles below your eyes with his right thumb. You were patient, meeting his distracted gaze as you idly played with his hair. This wasn’t the rushed goodbye you’d shared 6 years ago, this was a coronation of his love. Minutes passed and you were laid on the sofa, bare to his dark eyes. You had taken it upon yourself to step out of your underwear and to unclasp your bra. It was endearing, the way Geto obediently watched, eyes flicking between your breasts and cunt as you dropped the garments to the side. Amused, you cocked your head to the side, “Are you ok?”
Geto blinked at you, tugging at the hem of his shirt, “Yes,” he mumbled, looking to the side embarrassedly as he pulled his shirt over his head, “how did you want to do this?”
You hummed in thought. To be honest, you weren’t really that bothered, but it touched you that he asked. Though, you were aching and tired, so.. “As we are,” you replied, stifling a yawn, “please.”
He smiled at your apparent tiredness and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, “I’ll go slow but tell me if it’s too much, ok?”
You nodded.
“Good girl.”
Good girl?
Good. Girl.
You were fucking reeling.
After Geto wrestled his trousers and boxers off, he slid his hand between your thighs and pushed them apart, carefully. He leaned over you, using his own thighs to keep yours open as he kissed you again, messily, lazily. You sighed into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck as he moved his knee forward until it grazed your most sensitive parts. As Geto slipped his tongue into your mouth, you gasped at the sudden plethora of sensations- all of them far too much, yet far too good. You took your time as you grinded against his knee, moaning and muttering curses against his swollen lips. A few years ago, maybe you would’ve been embarrassed by the amount of time it took for you to feel ready to take him, but you didn’t want to rush this. It was as precious as the climax itself, and the pleasure of basking in his warmth and affection made you giddy and hot. You cracked an eye open as you parted for air to check on Geto, your hips not stopping their lethargic, yet desperate rocking against his knee. What you found wasn’t boredom or impatience, rather intense affection and peace in the stare of your lover. It was oddly sweet compared to the obscene way his knee glistened with your slick. Content, you closed your eyes again, letting Geto’s gentle lips on your chest and neck lull you into an orgasm that had your toes curling and back arching. He coaxed you down with soft encouragement and kisses as he moved his knee from your core.
You grinned as you looked at his awed expression, “Come on.” you teased. Geto rolled his eyes before adjusting your positions.
After a moment he settled, lowering himself to be closer to you. “I love you,” he whispered, peppering kisses over your face, “so, so much.”
A smile spread across your face before you could stop it, “I bet you say that to all of your victims.” you teased.
Geto groaned, “God, shut up.”
You laughed to yourself, breath catching as you felt him press against your entrance. The way he looked at you felt like lying in sunlight, and you forgot how tired and irritable you had been. This was all you had ever needed. Him- that was all.
It had been a while since you last slept with anyone, so the intrusion initially stung. However, a few kisses and gentle whispers later, he had eased himself in completely, and you were burning with anticipation. Geto looked at you carefully, visibly holding himself back.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah,” you adjusted yourself slightly, “m’fine.”
He grinned, kissing the column of your neck before he started moving, hands bracing you by your hips. Beads of sweat had appeared on his forehead and chest, causing his hair to stick to his face. You knew you were the same too, unable to ignore the way yours was sticking to your neck. Lazily, you pulled him further down onto you, wrapping your legs around his hips like a boa constrictor, causing him to penetrate you even deeper. The silence of the room was disrupted by the rhythmic groans and gasps the two of you released every time he rocked into you. You were so full, it felt like your nerves were on fire as he pushed against that spot inside of you that made you see heaven.
“Shit-” you whimpered as he sped up, biting into his shoulder as you gasped and moaned against the reddened skin.
Geto wasn’t faring much better as he uttered curses against your cheek, mixed within prayers and declarations of your beauty and significance.
“You’re so,” Thrust. “Fucking,” Thrust. “Pretty,” Thrust. “Like this-”
You could feel the hot puffs of air against your ear as he helplessly whined, his pace quickening despite himself.
“I’ve been,” Thrust. “Thinking about,” Thrust. “Doing this,” Thrust. “Since,” Thrust. “Last time-”
You couldn’t help it, the way his words drove you towards your peak like a wildfire.
“Please, Suguru,” you moaned, rocking against him as his cock hammered into you, “I’m so..”
“Close?” Geto grunted, “You’re close?”
“Fuck- yes!”
He swore under his breath.
Your back arched, chest pressing against his as his calloused fingers found your throbbing, ever-so sensitive clit.
You were so close, so, so, so close…
“Cum for me.”
With a scream, your orgasm washed over you, causing you to tremble with the intensity. Geto’s pace didn’t falter as you rode out the after effects. Well, not until he followed you closely after. Hips stuttering, you whined as you felt his cum drip fill you. He moaned loudly, eyebrows furrowed and abs flexed. You decided that it was one of the most beautiful sights in the world.
For a while, you panted against each other, Geto had collapsed on top of you and was now curled into you, head tucked beneath your chin. Absentmindedly, you stroked his air, sighing softly as he kissed your neck tenderly.
“Did I hurt you?” you felt his voice vibrate through where you were touching. Geto’s voice was low and rough- exhausted probably.
“Nah,” you replied easily, “tired though.”
He yawned, “Stay here then.” he muttered, sounding half asleep.
You laughed sardonically, “Is this part of your elite plan to stop me going back?”
Geto sat up, looking at you strangely, “You’re still thinking of going back?” He sounded more judgemental than hurt.
“Well,” you snorted, “probably not now.”
“Fucking hell,” Geto flopped down next to you, cuddling you again, “you scared me.”
You kissed the crown of his head apologetically, “Sorry, Suguru.”
The two of you laid on the sofa together in silence, communicating purely through loving touches and glances. Outside, you heard the rain become heavier on the windows, drowning out the buzz of the kitchen.
“I love you too,” you blurted, suddenly reminded of his abrupt confession, “by the way.”
Geto huffed, “I figured.”
“I’m staying here.” you added. A confirmation.
You felt him press a lingering kiss to your cheek.
“I figured that one too.”
You sighed, “I’ll need to go home and grab my stuff… and quit my job…” Geto snickered on top of you, “what a bore…”
“How long will that take?” he asked, voice rough.
“Like,” you wrinkled your nose, “three days, maybe.”
Geto groaned, “‘S long time.”
“Yeah,” you agreed irritably, “what a drag.”
He snorted, “I miss you already.”
“Tease.”
#in an era of naming fics after beatles songs#and you are powerless to stop me#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#angst#geto suguru#jjk gojo#jjk geto#jjk shoko#jjk fluff#geto x reader#smut#jjk smut#jjk geto x reader
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“Remind me to make you smile like that again, when you aren't dying, and I have all the time in the world to memorize it.”
Lauren Roberts, Powerless (The Powerless Trilogy, #1)
#booklovers#bookworm#books#biblophile#bookish#booklr#book review#book community#bookquotes#smut books#reckless lauren roberts#lauren roberts#powerless#paedyn gray#paedyn x kai#book quotations#book lovers#book life#book quotes#book signing#books and reading
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Chapters: 14/30 Fandom: Helluva Boss (Web Series) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Blitzo/Stolas Goetia Summary:
The Goetia have decided Stolas is not fit to be part of them anymore. That he's to be stripped of his powers and judged for his crimes. And now, all but kidnapped by the imps and having to live as a commoner, he'll have to learn to navigate his new life, to stand up on his own two feet again. But he's not alone, even if he hasn't realized that yet.
-----
In the end, it was Blitz himself the one who invited Stolas to pop in with lunch. That the owl was supposed to cater it for everybody in the office was implicit, but still it was an invitation Stolas wasn't willing to turn down.
“I'll regret saying this, but. Have you ever used a gun, Stols?” The owl's ears perched at that as he shook his head, looking at Blitz from his sitting place at his desk. “Look, your people won't stop coming. I killed two more weirdos this week 'round your block. Why don't I teach you? We have a very simple hit booked for tomorrow. We can beat him up and then you give him the final shot. Nothing too fancy, just some basic self defense.”
Stolas shouldn't feel so excited about it. He was instead about to jump out of his skin. And a bit excited in a very different way, if he was honest, chirping as he bent over the desk to grab the client file.
The name and reason for the hit were on it, neatly typed by Moxxie. It was a simple enough job, alright. Stolas leaned closer to Blitz to read it, bending more and —
#fanfic#fanart#helluva boss#helluvaverse#helluva fanart#helluva blitzo#helluva stolitz#stolas#stolitz#post apology tour#Fanfic with art#stolas x blitz#blitz x stolas#Powerless stolas#Plot heavy#smut with plot#hurt/comfort
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Did Bill not come to terms with his feelings for Dipper until he was forced to in Confessing It, or was it earlier in the series (even if he would never admit it)? Sorry if this is sorta implied, I’m not amazing with subtext. Rereading atm and I was curious lol
Actually, Bill (sort of) came to terms with having fallen for Dipper well before Dipper got his feelings sorted.
It's in Faking It chapter 15:
[Bill] glances up at Dipper. “You…. are the single worst thing that has ever happened to me. And I don’t say that lightly, you got no idea how old I am."
#answers#Bill still had a lot of struggling to do after that#But if you're looking for him accepting his feelings *this* was the moment#When Bill realized he'd fallen pretty far even though he couldn't make himself say or think the proper word yet#His thoughts on the matter are addressed in more detail in Chapter 9 of Hating It#Dipper liked Bill. Even when he was trapped and nearly powerless and in a shitty situation - Dip *still* respected and lusted after him#Not after position or power or wanting him to be different. Even knowing he wasn't remotely human!! He just wanted *Bill*.#And it goes BOTH ways#Dipper was most of the way there too but also trying REALLY HARD not to care about a demon at that point#Then a minute or so later Bill's cheering up attempt did the rest of the work#Dipper had stayed so strong. Fighting against this horrible yet compelling demonic force. No feelings here no sir it's a bad idea#And in the one moment he got weak. When he teared up. Bill got awkward and tried to perk *him* up#Both hilarious and relatable AND a moment where Dipper realized Bill actually in his own way cared about him#These idiots were never going to be able to resist someone who could see them at a truly low point and like them anyway#Confessing It is basically: Them Trying To Actually Talk: The Fic#They both already knew how the other felt#But actually Communicating about it like a functional couple was hard#All the very kinky smuts are canon btw#I like my absurd smut to have character development#And believe it or not#Amazingly they communicate well when both of them have the same fun goal in mind
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Author’s note: I am stuck in a slump so I’m going to write a guilty pleasure of mine… the body swap trope except this time, with a twist. And of course with the one that got away trope. I adore it so very much like black cherry ice-cream.
Yandere Head Canons:
The Husband Swap
Yandere Shapeshifter x Married Fem Elf Reader x Neglectful Drow Husband
TW: yandere content!! Mentions of smut, dubcon, tentacles, monster fucking, size kink, manipulation, voyeurism, oral, and unhealthy relationship.
Art from Veil Manga
You had been married to your husband, Nikolai Sokolov, for many years. An arranged marriage set up amongst your people as a peace treaty… you, a high elf, wed to a drow, dark elf. And Nikolai was often cold to you… despite how often you attempted to bond with him.
Nikolai refused to eat any of the food you made and he constantly brushed aside your attempts to get to know him. He cared little for this arranged relationship and treated you as if you were some mere commoner, a fact that only made your heart sting.
Nikolai would occasionally share a bed with you, but it was often out of fulfilling his needs. He cared little for your pleasure and only cared to satiate his own.
One day, Nikolai bought you a servant just to get you to leave him alone (outside of sex). A shapeshifter.
A magic collar was bound tightly around their silver neck as a preventative to their ability to shift. They were now powerless and subservient. A trait that most shapeshifters didn’t have since they were quite sly by nature. You wondered what this creature had done to have been reduced to a servant…
Their name was Lev Snegur and they were close in age to you and Nikolai. The shapeshifter was somewhat masculine looking with sharp features and pitch black eyes. A genderless species that never uttered a sound, what wonderful company to have.
You often tried to engage in small talk with them, but they remained as silent as the depth of night. Not a peep left their lips to ever give you input. It unnerved you.
You were very sweet to them and even offered to share meals, but they only stared at you. Talking to Lev was like talking to a brick wall that nodded at times. Lev was an incredibly good listener.
Lev’s company did little to satiate the ache in your heart and the all consuming loneliness. You were so isolated in this empty home filled with bitterness. And you started to accept that you’d never find any warmth with him. Nor would you find solace in your silent servant’s company.
Occasionally you’d wake up covered in a slight sweat, a puddle of dampness below you. The room would always feel of sex, yet you hardly had any of that… but you were always a bit sore between your legs when you’d wake up on mornings like this. Had you been having wet dreams due to your consistent loneliness? Or was there something foul at play?
So it was a surprise when Nikolai bounced into your room like a puppy one morning. His arms wrapped around your side while he inhaled your scent. What on earth was he doing?
“Nikolai?” Nikolai placed a finger on your lips, a mischievous look in his crimson eyes.
“Shh, I have a surprise for you!” Nikolai gave you a bright grin that made you do a double take. You’ve never seen your grumpy husband smile in his entire life. This had to be a dream… you gave yourself a pinch and hissed at the pain you inflicted on your poor arm. Nope. Not a dream.
Nikolai lead you out of the room to where a grand meal was set before you consisting of all of your favorite delicacies. You had no idea your husband even knew you adored such food…
“Do you like it?” His face was hopeful as he took your hand in his. “I’ve come to a realization that you genuinely care for me… so I will treat you better.”
And from that day forth, Nikolai was more attentive than he ever had been. He insisted you should move into his room and he often cuddled with you… it was so odd. This entire situation was bizarre, almost as if this was another person and not your husband.
It was when Nikolai went down on you for the first time that your mind truly began to believe he was another man. When did he learn how to please you and why did he eat you out like a man starved? This wasn’t your husband… this was an imposter.
When ‘Nikolai’ made love to you, he felt bigger. You swore he was nearly two to three inches than he used to be, which made your stomach protrude like you had a baby bump. And his hands ardently grasped at every bit of your body as he could.
It wasn’t too uncommon for you to find your husband sniffing your hair like some sort of animal. You were so scared…
The longer you spent time with ‘Nikolai,’ the more paranoid you became. There were less and less drows around now and your servant was missing… you were starting to become afraid.
But you never were able to get much time to think about it too much since ‘Nikolai’ was always dutifully by your side. There was never any time to ask questions… until tonight. You decided to ask him… for you feared you’d fall off the deep end into insanity if you didn’t.
“Where’s Lev?” You softly asked Nikolai whose fingers paused their dance over your scalp. His crimson eyes glanced over to your face.
“And why do you care so much about a shifter when your husband is here?” Nikolai asked in a bitter tone, but you could see a bit of excitement in his eye. And it made your heart pulse in your brain.
“Well, I miss Lev.” You softly whispered. It wasn’t a complete lie. You did miss your servant who always listened to you, but you preferred his silent company over the overbearing presence of your changed husband.
“Hmm… well, we can go see him if you’d like.” Nikolai rose up from the bed and wrapped a black robe over his bare chest. “He’s in the dungeon.”
You were a bit shocked by your husband’s words. “What do you mean? Lev never did anything wrong-“
“My wife is too kind for her own good.” Nikolai held your chin to pause you from rambling on even more. His eyes were filled with so much emotion, it froze you in place. “It’s what I love most about you.”
You gulped and averted your gaze, your cheeks felt hot.
Lev lead you down the hallway and down the winding stairs to the dungeon, his hand gently held yours. You felt dread creep up into your stomach the closer you went to the dingy dungeon. Your nerves felt as if they were on fire…
And the sight before you terrified you to your core, the angled corpse of Nikolai laid sprawled out on the brick flooring. His lifeless eyes turned toward the door and his mouth agape in a horrific scream forever frozen on his rotting face.
You tried to flee but your ‘Nikolai’ began to shift, slender hands now held you firmly in place while your captor’s face slowly morphed into the bewitching creature named Lev.
“It didn’t take much to overpower him. Your husband was too cocky to notice I figured out how to disarm the collar.” Lev’s voice made your blood run cold from how raspy it was. His voice low and monotonous despite the various emotions that hid beneath the surface of his eyes. “To whack him over the back of the head with a sword hilt and drag him down here. It was child’s play really.”
“Are you going to kill me too?” You whimpered when his grip tightened around your arms. His face filled with concern.
“Kill you? Nonsense, I’d never kill my wife!” Lev began to pepper your face with numerous kisses while his arms snaked around your waist. “I mean it when I say I love you, I love you more than that bastard ever could.”
You try to protest, but you feel something slimy wrap around your legs and give them a squeeze. Your eyes are wide in terror at the black tendrils that snaked around your plush thighs. What on earth?!
“And I can certainly fuck you better than he ever could… I can show you things no other monster could ever show you, so won’t you indulge me? I promise I’ll blow your mind.”
#female reader#yandere fic#yandere imagine#yandere#yandere dilf#obsessive yandere#yandere x willing reader#yandere x you#yandere x reader#obsessive love#yandere obsession#yandere oc#yandere original character#yandere males#yandere male#yandere concept#yandere husband#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere blog#yandere stories#yandere content#husband swap#body swap#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#monster fucker#monster smut#tentacles#yandere horror
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consumed [san x reader]
pairing: vampire ! San x f reader
rating: 18+
genre: smut, angst, vampire au, darkfic
summary: After getting a taste of your blood, San dedicates himself entirely to you — whether you want him to or not.
wc: 5.6k
general warnings: non-con elements, pheromone-induced ‘consent’ but reader resists at first, blood drinking, reader’s blood literally drives San crazy, he is delusional and obsessed and thinks it’s love, abduction, mention of San killing a nameless stranger to feed on
smut warnings: somnophilia, praise kink, body worship, vaginal fingering / sex, creampie, spanking, cum feeding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, biting, scratching, petnames for reader (darling, sweet girl, angel, love)
a/n: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!! reader is afab & she/her pronouns are used
“You’re not supposed to keep them around this long, San.”
Yunho does not speak the words unkindly, though his disapproval is plain to hear.
“She’s different,” San says quietly, shaking his head. He doesn’t understand why Yunho can’t see that.
They’re standing in the wide, spacious living room of San’s penthouse; decorated in an elegant, bare minimalism that leaves no doubt over the many digits in his bank account’s credit balance. Yunho hangs back by the exit to the foyer, like he already knows he’ll outstay his welcome with this topic of conversation.
San is not looking at him, staring out the floor-length window with his forearm leaned against the glass, tinted with a special filter for his safety during daylight. But the sun has not risen yet, though the city is already bustling with activity in the early morning. From this height, San can barely make out the specks of people on the sidewalks and in their cars; their minute size reflecting their significance.
No one else in this city matters. Only you.
“She’s already growing immune, isn’t she?” Yunho remarks, annoyingly astute.
The corner of San’s lips twitches.
Yunho’s objections are irrelevant, he tells himself, deafening his ears to the truth in that question. He has to, if the alternative is to give you up. He can’t.
Ever since San found you, a chance meeting at a hotel bar, he has been enamoured by you. Your tinkling laugh, the sway of your hips, that wicked glint in your eyes when you realised his interest. You made him work for it, to persuade you up to his room, but not too hard. Just a little game, both of you pretending that you hadn’t decided to fuck yourself senseless on his cock from the moment you laid eyes on him.
Yes, he’d been taken with you from the start — but it wasn’t until the elevator ride up to his hotel room that San realised you were more than just a simple, if particularly delectable, meal.
There San had gotten a proper whiff of you, undiluted by the smells of food and drinks and other patrons.
You’d moaned when he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, nerves creeping into the edge of your voice. You had also finally realised that San was more than just a simple, if particularly delectable, one-night stand; some primal part of your brain warned you of danger.
It hadn’t mattered at that point. You mumbled something about having left your phone down at the bar, trying to untangle yourself from San’s grip — but all he had to do was grab your waist tighter, yanking you back against his body as he testingly lapped at your jugular. San’s hunger was growing, and you had been powerless against the push of his pheromones dousing your susceptible human brain. From then on, you were a willing banquet for him to feast on.
(Still, San was generous. He still let you fuck yourself senseless on his cock.)
The longer he’d fed on you, the more he was dizzied by your scent; like he was breathing in oxygen for the first time in over six-hundred years. Your voice, sweet in your cries, pleading for him like he was the only lifeline still binding you to this mortal coil. Your taste… San never tasted anyone like you before.
Like you are his lifeline, your blood hot in his gut, saturating his veins with essential nutrition. Liquid sunlight, warming him from the inside. No one else tastes like this. No one else feels like this.
All of his plans were thrown out the window; to wipe the questionable details from your mind and abandon you before morning light. Instead he had taken you with him, given you a home, devoted himself to you with every fibre of his being.
His dedication never wavered, even when you began to resist the haze of his subjugation; when you no longer understood that everything San does, he does out of love for you.
But it’s not your fault — and San is not so fickle as to abandon you now. His loyalty is stronger than your blindness to it.
So how dare Yunho tell him it’s time to let you go?
“For fuck’s sake, at least turn her if you’re so attached to your little toy,” Yunho continues, and San’s face twitches at the blatant disrespect of you. A toy? “It’d be a kindness, and not only to her. Sannie, I’m worried about you.”
“It’s time for you to go home, Yunho. The sun is about to rise,” San says coolly, not even taking his eyes off the city skyline to see his oldest friend off.
Yunho lets out a frustrated sigh, but concedes to San’s stubbornness — for now. “This isn’t the last we’ve spoken of this,” he warns, and with that, Yunho turns away and leaves. He does not take San’s bad mood with him though; he leaves that behind to fester in San’s cold, deficient blood like a rot.
San stands alone in his luxurious penthouse, resisting a sharp urge to put his fist through the filtered glass of his window. He settles for digging his nails into his palms, a low growl escaping past his gritted teeth.
He needs you. Now more than ever.
The thought is all-consuming, hunger blazing through him. But right now, his devotion is tainted by rage, and he cannot risk to have you touched by it. San did that once, mercilessly rough as he took you; not even to feed, just to know you are his. He still has not forgiven himself for it. He never will.
But Yunho’s incessant meddling is not the only thing that has soured San’s mood — and it only makes his need worse.
San knows he has to be mindful of your health, allowing you time to recover between feedings. And so he hunted fresh prey, just a few days ago. It had been a brutish affair, sloppy and violent. San had almost gagged on the young man’s blood, a vile and repugnant liquor compared to yours, and left a scene of savage destruction behind.
(Hongjoong had arranged a clean-up afterwards, for which he’d heatedly told San off. Come to think of it, Hongjoong probably sent Yunho today too. He needs to stop fucking coddling San just because he is a few centuries younger. San could’ve handled it himself.)
Days later, the taste of inferior blood still lingers on San’s tongue, streams through his veins, and his craving for you becomes too powerful to withstand. He yearns for a sustenance and a comfort only you can provide.
No, San cannot go back to an existence without you.
Restlessly he paces across his home, through the spacious living room past the gallery and the master bedroom, all the way to a wide terrace that looks over the bay. Sometimes he takes you there, at night when the stars are bright, but the sun is already out. San ignores the terrace, heading to a relatively modest bedroom tucked into the corner of the penthouse.
A small, delicate silver key hangs on an equally delicate silver chain around his neck, resting on his chest. He takes off the necklace and uses the key to unlock the door to your room.
With his hand resting on the doorknob, San takes a deep, grounding breath. Already he can smell you through the white-painted wood, and just a faint whiff is enough to blunt the edges of his frustrations, while sharpening his hunger.
He opens the door.
Inside, he finds you laying motionless on a large mahogany bed underneath a wide, open skylight. Your nude body is sprawled over the velvet sheets, bathed in the warmth of the morning sun. At peace in your sleep. There is a golden cuff fastened around your ankle, with a long narrow chain to the wall; sometimes your confused mind beckons you to flee, to make some misguided escape attempt, but the chain protects you from making such mistakes.
San closes the door behind him as quietly as he can, careful not to wake you. Reverently, he watches your sleeping form, drinking in the sight of your steady breathing, how your skin glows in the unfiltered sunlight. Light that is deadly to him, but nurturing to you.
His eyes find the three scabbed-over bite marks on your naked body; on your neck, your inner thigh, and your wrist. San is partial to your thigh, mingling the sweet flavours of arousal and blood as he feeds, but every single one of them sings to him right now — angelic temptation.
Still, he resists a moment longer. He likes watching you sleep; the slow rhythm of your chest as you draw breath, your steady heartbeat thumping through peaceful dreams. He hates watching you sleep; to see you in a state of blissful serenity that only the oblivion of unconsciousness brings. He tries to give you that same peace in the waking world, tries so hard, but you struggle against it more and more.
He yearns to touch you, to remind you of true bliss, but even a mere step forward would make him burn in the sun’s light.
Some days he wants to. Wants to burn for you. Perhaps if you saw the true depths of his devotion, you would finally stop forgetting.
“She’s already growing immune, isn’t she?”
Yunho’s words echo through him, mockingly. Now that Yunho is gone, San can begrudgingly admit their truth. Your body is instinctively building a harmful resistance to his pheromones, like a dangerous bacterial strain resisting antibiotics. All San wants to do is cure your hurts, but your own physiology is cruelly sabotaging your happiness.
San’s fingers itch as he gets antsy. He’ll fix it. He’ll fix you. He will find a way.
He flicks a switch on the wall and the solar blinds go down. You stir at the faint whirring noise, whimper instinctively when shade encroaches on your naked body. You do not wake. Not yet.
Soon the room is engulfed in darkness, but San sees you clearly. Still, for your sake he lights a few candles, bathing the room in a different warm glow. Then he slowly shucks his clothes, dark eyes pinned on your slumbering figure.
The mattress dips as San joins you, the sheets still warmed by the sun. It makes San’s skin itch, but all discomfort fades when he turns you onto your side and curls up behind you, finding refuge in your body heat. San groans as you envelop his senses, and he noses at the bite mark on your neck.
You belong to him. It’s time to remind you of that.
Peaceful dreams still have you in their clutches, so you do nothing except sigh softly when San runs his palm over your plush thigh, then hooks your leg over his to open you up for him. A sigh becomes a moan when his fingers part your lower lips; sleep renders you almost as pliant as San’s subjugation does — even if it does not taste as sweet.
By now, San has mapped out your body’s every pleasure-point through his thorough explorations. Knows exactly how to press down against your clit to have your muscles twitching under his insistent touch. He hums in satisfaction at how easily his devoted fingers coax forth the slick between your thighs. It gives him hope.
San’s breath picks up at your heightened arousal, his otherwise useless blood rushing down to his cock. How wonderful would it be, if you are already brought under his spell once you awaken? He groans at the thought, muffling his sounds with an open-mouthed kiss against your neck. You squirm against him; your body is starting to wake, even if your mind is not quite there yet.
He suckles at the precious scab on your neck, canines elongating as he grinds against your backside. His razor-sharp teeth scrape against the scar that he has reopened over and over again — but San hisses, somehow finding the strength to pull back.
He mustn’t feed on you, not yet. Only when you want him to.
Two of his thick fingers have moved down, now buried knuckle-deep into your sopping heat. The faint squelch of it threatens to drive San mad just as much as your scent does, his every sense overwhelmed by the existence of you. He whines, barely able to keep himself from rutting into you when your hips jerk involuntarily against his fingers.
San knows immediately when you wake.
He senses the jolt in your heartbeat, hears the sharp catch of breath, feels how you stiffen in his arms. A muted shock rushes through your body as your mind tries to process what is happening to it.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” San shushes immediately, pressing a soft kiss against your temple. “It’s just me. You’re safe with me.”
But San’s dreams that you would awaken safely under his influence are shattered when you let out a pained whimper. You weakly shake your head, trembling as awareness of your current situation swiftly dawns on you. Feeble hands push at his arms.
“No,” you croak out, voice hoarse from sleep. “Hm, n-no— hmm, hmgh—“
You gasp as San’s fingers return to your clit, rubbing slow circles intended to soothe. “Yes,” he purrs. “Just let it happen, my love.”
He grunts as your nails claw at his wrist, some strength flowing back into your body as your consciousness comes back to you. Your other hand reaches to push at his face — but San’s sharp teeth nip at your fingers in warning when you almost scratch at his eyes, and you flinch away to yank at his hair instead.
Irritation and heartache pang through San’s chest at your incomprehension, and he helplessly listens to your babbled, futile protests. Soon. It will all be better soon.
“Please, stop—”
You break on the word with a wretched sob, a tear escaping your lashes. San’s heart wrenches at the sight. He does not like to see you cry, not when it’s like this. “No no no, darling,” he murmurs gently, the glide of his fingers easy through your sodden folds. “It’s okay, it will be okay… Don’t cry, you feel good — aren’t I making you feel good?”
You merely sob again, twisting against his hold, but San has you pulled too tightly against his chest. He feels your body tense, smells the unwanted pleasure buzzing through your veins. You gnaw at your bottom lip to bite down the moans rising from your lungs, but San will not allow you to fight it. He leans over your shoulder, licking into your mouth until your jaw slackens and your moans spill free. (You dare not bite his tongue. That’s a lesson you did not forget.)
“That’s it, that’s my sweet girl,” San praises. “Let me hear you.”
Your protests have died down to nothing but hitched breaths and hiccups, unable to back away from the inevitable precipice that San pushes you towards. All your instincts contradict one another, wanting to escape, wanting to chase this bright, fiery thread of pleasure until you are unravelled into nothing but pure rapture.
You choke back a throttled cry, grinding back against San’s cock. He whines at the friction, but stays focused on you; you come first. You always do. It won’t be much longer now.
He can tell by the way your thighs tremble, how your legs try to lock around his fingers. Your scent is overwhelming now; dizzying San’s mind with no thoughts of anything but to shatter your existence into bite-sized pieces. Still you try to resist, but San overwhelms you in turn, mouthing at your neck and working your puffy clit. The pitch of your moans rise, chest heaving with shuddering gasps, until you seize up with a strangled sob. Fresh slick gushes onto his fingers and San does not stop, thrusting three glistening fingers inside you to fuck you through your unwilling release.
“Please, please stop,” you sob, mewling with every aftershock that jolts through you. You beg him endlessly, convulsing in his arms — but then your scent changes, and the nature of your pleas shifts into something else entirely. “S-Sannie… please…”
The fear and nausea in your scent make way for your natural sweetness, embracing San in warm welcome as you finally call his name. He whimpers in relief.
You’re here. You’ve come back to him.
“What is it, darling?” he hums, nosing at your cheek. “Tell me, what do you need?”
“San, please, n-need…” You grasp at his wrist again, keeping him firmly in place as you falter for words. Your brain is in a haze. What do you need? Why can’t you think? One moment, everything was all wrong, panic searing through your aching nerves, and now… now…
San.
You need San.
You turn your head to look at him with tearful eyes, and smile dazedly at the fondness in his gaze, filled with heated affection. The flickering candles cast a halo of light around his face, shadows dancing over his high cheekbones and chiselled jaw.
“You… Need you closer,” you whine, aching as he smiles at you with crinkled eyes and a faint dimple. “Inside, p-please, want you inside me, San…”
The desperate yet demure request pleases him, a low noise of approval rumbling in his chest. He presses a tender kiss on your cheek, then takes out his fingers and pulls away from you.
You let out a pained moan at San’s sudden absence; to be without him hurts, the mere thought bringing about an excruciating burn inside your head. There is a strange pressure inside your skull, like a deeply buried thought tries to claw to the surface. But the pain is replaced by equal heights of bliss when San gathers you into his arms again, wrapping around you like a protective blanket.
He only moved to sit up against the headboard, now guiding you into his lap. You come willingly, eagerly, sighing in relief as his hands run over your feverish skin.
“There you go, my angel,” San rasps, restlessly grabbing at your waist to rock you into his hard cock. “So sweet, so good to me. Come, take what you want. I’m all yours, love.”
You whine at his offer and San’s lips spread into a slow, satisfied smile at your neediness. This is how it is supposed to be.
His eyes are drawn downward to your hands, and he grunts as you stroke him slowly, as though testing the warmth and thickness of him in your palm. Already he is leaking from the tip, a primal frenzy nudging at the back of his skull. Hunger.
Thankfully, you don’t make him wait long before you lift your hips and finally sink down on him. San throws back his head with a low growl, the pulsing wet heat of your cunt threatening to tear his self-control to shreds. His fangs have protracted fully, itching to seek out your veins.
Not yet, he reminds himself again, straining against his own impatience. First he needs to watch as you ride him; to see you use him for your own pleasure. To know his all-encompassing desire for you is returned in kind.
You provide him exactly what he craves.
Within mere moments, the candle-lit room is filled with your unabashed whines and the lewd slap of skin-on-skin as you bury San’s thick cock in your tight heat over and over again. Your pace is frantic, shameless in your desperation as you cling onto San’s wide shoulders, your nails close to drawing blood. The irony of that is not lost on him.
San’s head has fallen back, his jaw slack as he draws heavy breaths, utterly entranced by your depravity.
He lovingly admires the glow of sweat on your skin, beads trickling down the valley of your breasts that bounce with every snap of your hips. San is of half a mind to add a fourth bite to his collection on your body, draining you right over your heart. He licks his lips, groaning tightly when you grab his hand and move it from your hip to your backside.
San gives it an appreciative squeeze, but you shake your head and whine loudly.
Ah… message received.
You don’t flinch when San’s lips spread into a wide grin, his fangs on full display. He loves you for that.
He also loves the way your entire body jolts when his palm sharply lands on your ass. Your rhythm falters when he strikes again, your arms trembling as you struggle to remain upright.
“Want more, my love?” San croons, and draws his tongue across his deadly canines. A hot wire thrums through him when you mewl in confirmation, though he can tell you are getting tired. Stamina is not your greatest strength, not with your necessary confinement — but you always give him everything, wearing yourself out on his thick cock until your muscles give in.
Every smack of San’s hand against your rear is received with your loud keening, eyes squeezing shut. Tears streak down your cheeks, and San’s cock twitches inside your throbbing cunt. The shimmering wetness on your skin is a thing of beauty to him now; so overwhelmed by pleasure that your body seeks release anywhere, even in your tears.
San bucks up at the same time that his hand connects with your ass again, and you wail at the impact, crumpling against his chest. Weakly you cling onto his shoulders, moaning pitifully when San continues to roll his hips.
“Good, feels so good… Sannie…” you babble against his collarbone, the words tripping over your clumsy tongue. “Want… want…”
Your tongue darts out against his neck and without further warning, your teeth sink into his skin.
San grunts in surprise at the sudden sting, but then he chuckles breathlessly at your precious attempt to bite him. Your canines are uselessly blunt compared to his, only capable of breaking skin with the greatest effort — and you are already far too fucked out for that.
“Oh darling,” he coos, tipping up your chin. “Is that what you want? Then show me, my love.”
You snivel adorably, tilting your head to offer up the mark on your neck to San’s hungry mouth. Your quiet submission sears through his body, down to his crotch and his stomach, and San presses his nose against the old bite, breathing in deeply.
You whimper as he drags the flat of his tongue over the half-healed scab. Just a faint scrape of his teeth first, not enough to break skin, only to revel in the anticipation. Your heartbeat quickens, blood pulsing under his lips. San can wait no longer.
His eyes roll back with an animalistic snarl as he descends, fangs piercing through flesh with ease. He growls at the first pull of blood, metallic sweetness coating his lips and tongue as your essence floods his senses.
“Yes, yes— Ah, ah, ahhh…” You arch your back into him, slowly rolling your hips in time with San’s noisy, messy slurps. Your fingers tangle into his hair, holding him in place as he drinks deep.
Euphoria.
Pure euphoria.
Drowning in you, in the sublime intoxication. San can barely feel his body anymore, only distantly aware of you rutting tiredly into him, of how he humps upward with increasing force as he loses himself in your taste.
He does hear your cries of delirious ecstasy, right by his ear when his hand slides between your bodies to find your clit on pure instinct. With his cock and fangs buried inside you, you reach your zenith with violent force, convulsing underneath his blood-stained mouth.
San grabs tighter onto you as you writhe, forcing you to stay in place as he drinks unrelentingly. He groans at how you clench around his cock, hips stuttering when he finds release — but even that is drowned out by the frenzy of his feed, mindlessly fucking his seed deeper into your cunt while he sucks at your wound, trying not to spill any of your precious liquor.
Slowly your whines die down and you start to go limp in San’s arms, just as he grows lethargic in the aftermath of his indulgence, his hunger finally sated.
You let out a weak moan when his fangs retract with a wet sound, and for a moment San thinks you passed out; but your eyes flutter open when he pulls out and manoeuvres you onto your back. A weak rivulet of blood drips down your shoulder, but you smile up at him with glassy eyes. He must look monstrous, redness smeared across his lips and chin, but there is nothing but want in your gaze, and San thinks that perhaps his hunger is not completely sated after all.
“Did so well, my love,” he murmurs, running his fingers up your inner thigh to catch the trickle of cum leaking out. “Always taking such good care of me.”
He offers up his glistening fingers to you, and you accept with no hesitation. Tiredly, your tongue swirls around the sticky digits, taking all that San feeds you. It only seems fair to him; exchanging one bodily essence for another. He cannot give you his blood, cannot risk accidentally turning you, but at least he can give you this.
Soon his fingers are sucked clean, but you whine as San pulls his hand back, your mouth chasing after him. “N-no, San…” Your eyes glitter with unspoken pleas, and a fond pride swells inside him at your insatiable urges.
“My sweet girl needs more, does she?” San asks, bearing down on you with a pleased smile. He drapes himself over you, humming in approval when your legs reflexively part to make room for him.
You giggle when his nose brushes against yours, his sweaty hair tickling at your face. “San, you’re a mess,” you tease, running your thumb across his lips. It comes back red.
San just moans in contentment, pressing a bloodied kiss against your cheek as he slowly grinds against your cunt. Your giggles quickly turn to gasps, wiggling underneath his persistent hips. His cock is so sensitive the friction almost hurts, but it’s all worth it when you grab onto his shoulders to pull him into a kiss, heedless of his tainted lips.
Your tongue slides against his, and San laughs into your mouth when your nose scrunches up in discontent at the strong taste of blood. As insatiable as you may be, only one of you is a true vampire. Instead San kisses a trail across your jaw, down your neck. He laps at the dried blood, the wound already closed, then suckles at the surrounding skin once you are clean. His hands wander over your body, relishing your heightened responses to his touch as he slowly works you up again.
You sigh at the soft squeeze of your breasts, back arching when his thumbs play across your nipples. San luxuriates in the curves of your body, sliding down to envelop a hardened nipple in the wet heat of his mouth. He takes his time, clever but unhurried fingers teasing deftly between your thighs.
Breathy moans echo through the quiet bedroom, languid pleasure gradually shifting to something more urgent. You start grasping at his shoulders, tell him to fill you up already, and San has never been one to deny you.
He hisses as he gives his cock a few more strokes, but ignores all sensitivity to please you, to plunge his thick length back inside your sopping cunt, drenched with seed and arousal. San bottoms out in one smooth thrust, knocking the air out of your lungs. You gasp for breath as he starts a steady rhythm, careful to find the exact angle he knows will have you seeing stars behind your eyelids.
The lethargy of his feed forces San to take it slow, settling for deep, intense thrusts to have your toes curl into the sheets. He cages you between his elbows, pressing shallow kisses on your lips; and the taste of blood has faded enough that you can happily accept his mouth, tongues gliding against each other in a sloppy tangle.
You moan as San’s pace picks up, wrapping your legs around his waist. The cuff on your ankle presses against his lower back, and a tinge of bittersweetness invades San’s palate at the reminder that it’s is not always like this. But he shakes it off, choosing to stay submerged in pure sweetness for now. Enjoy the moment. Enjoy you.
The slow roll of his hips turns to powerful thrusts as his sluggishness fades, his strength now boosted by the fresh, invigorating effect of your blood. Soon the bed is rattling at the onslaught of his force — he is fucking bruises into your hips, he is sure of it, but still you beg for more, for him. He gives it all.
“So good, fucking me so well,” you keen, and San glows at your praise, spurring him on harder.
He does not slow down when you seize up around him; fucking you through your orgasm, through your body’s attempts to clamp down on him. He hisses at the tightness of your cunt but does not stop, does not relent until you’re sobbing underneath him, your hands clutching at his sweat-slicked back. His muscles ripple with every merciless thrust, low grunts escaping him as his own release draws near, but San pushes through with gritted teeth, fixated on the unrestrained pleasure that contorts your face.
Sweat drips from his hair onto your cheeks, your body jostled helplessly by the rough snap of his hips. Your voice fails you, moans catching soundlessly in your throat as you tense around his cock again. San reaches down a hand to find your swollen clit, groans when it barely takes a touch for you to release a choked up cry — and this time San can’t fight the way you clench around him. He buries his face in your shoulder as he whines, filling you up just as you’d begged him to. He grabs onto your hips to hold your squirming body still as he bucks into you a few more times, his cum leaking past his cock and mingling with your juices, smeared across your thighs and his pelvis.
With a final whine, San pulls out and collapses by your side, his legs tangled with yours.
He recovers slowly, gasping for breath, and his heart clenches when you curl up into him, wiggling yourself between his arms for his embrace.
San is not sure how long you lay there like that, with him gently patting your hair, your quiet breaths falling on his chest. Your heartbeat steadies slowly, and it pains San when he decides it is time to pull away.
As he predicted, you babble tired protests at once, weakly clutching at his arm as you beg him not to go. He allows himself a contented smile, but shakes his head at your pleas.
“You need to eat,” he points out, though he can’t resist showering you with kisses. He smothers you in affection until you’re breathless and whining — which is one way to silence your protests, he supposes — but San cannot be so selfish to stay and do it all over again. He needs to take care of you. “I’ll be right back with some breakfast, alright? You need to regain your strength,” he soothes. “After, we can take a bath together, how does that sound?”
San’s tender kisses have put a dopey smile on your face, and you nod sluggishly at his proposal. “That sounds perfect,” you admit. “Just… come back soon, okay?”
“I will,” he promises, raising your hand to his lips to press a last kiss on the scab on your wrist.
San puts on a comfortable robe that he keeps in your room for just this sort of occasion, then exits, locking the door behind him out of habit. He tries not to rush himself, but still he can’t help but hurry his steps as he picks up an already prepared breakfast from the kitchen. He does not want to return to find you have abandoned him again already.
An uneasy sense of foreboding fills him as he returns to your room. The waft of sex and blood still hangs heavily in the corridor, masking your scent as he unlocks the door again in frustrated impatience. San swallows thickly, praying his bad feeling is just that; a feeling.
But the door swings open, and San knows at once. He does not even need to smell you; your freshly tear-stained, puffy cheeks already tell him that it is too late, your heartbeat spiking harshly at his return. Your arms tremble as you inch back on the bed, subtly as though you do not want to anger him, but still putting as much distance between you and San as possible.
It takes everything for San not to recoil from your sudden rejection of his gift. His fingers clench around the breakfast tray, grief burning behind his eyes. He swears, it did not used to wear off this fast.
“She’s already growing immune, isn’t she?”
Shut the fuck up, Yunho.
San shakes his head, collecting himself. It’s no matter. He sets the tray down on a side-table, and gently approaches your shaking form on the bed. He will drag you back to him again, as many times as he has to.
#ateez smut#ateez x reader#ateez fanfic#san smut#ateez imagines#ateez fanfiction#ateez fic#san x reader#ateez hard hours#kpop smut#ateez scenarios#igby’s writing
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Kinktober 2024 Masterlist.
Welcome to my first ever Kinktober. Over the course of the month of October I will be posting some spicy fics of our favourite fantasy boys from either requests or from ideas of my own. Everything posted below will be 18+, and will be tagged with appropriate trigger warnings. If anyone would like to be tagged in the below fics please let me know. Happy to do a taglist for those who want it. Thank you to all who submitted requests.
Kai Azer
Mirror Sex
Garrick Tavis
"Feel this? It's just for you.” & "My tongue still remembers the way you taste.”
Xaden Riorson
"Don't act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.”
Brennan Sorrengail
"Don't act innocent when we both know where your mouth was two minutes ago.” & "I told you, you would eventually start begging.”
Forgive Me
Bodhi Durran
Shower Masturbation Praise (Shower Masturbation Part 2)
Azriel
Bondage
Garrick Tavis x Brennan Sorrengail x Reader
Threesome
#fourth wing fanfic#fourth wing#fourth wing smut#fourth wing x reader#xaden riorson#bodhi durran#kai azer x reader#kai azer#azriel x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel#garrick tavis x you#garrick tavis smut#garrick tavis x reader#xaden riorson x reader#brennan sorrengail#kinktober 2024#kinktober#garrick tavis#fourth wing imagine#garrick tavis imagine#bodhi durran x reader#powerless fanfic#angstywaifu kinktober#angstywaifu kinktober 2024
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Blood Lust
summary: With his ego inflated after Rook’s Rest, Aemond makes another move against the blacks — taking you.
pairing: Aemond x Niece!Reader
word count: 1.8k+
warnings: Explicit smut, dark!Aemond, incest, oral sex (f recieving), p in v sex, heavy dubcon, loss of virginity, mention of blood, knife play, angst!!! 18+ MDNI
Destiny was a fickle thing but Aemond Targaryen knew three things for certain: he was destined to lose an eye, destined to claim the largest dragon of the known world and destined to be with you.
For as long as Aemond could remember, he wanted you, dreamed of you. The mere thought of you made his cock ache at any moment.
It was not as if Aemond had no other options. There were plenty of Lord’s willing to send their daughters to King’s Landing to be married off to a prince.
As lovely as those girls might have been, they all shared the same detrimental flaw: they simply were not you. You were a member of House Targaryen — bastard born or not, the blood of Old Valyria ran deep within your veins. You were a skilled dragon rider, you carried yourself with grace, held a quick wit, spoke your mother tongue. Above all else, you had been there for Aemond when no one else was. You were perfect.
Aemond had no interest in being betrothed to a Baratheon or a Lannister, nor an Arryn or a Stark; even the most beautiful girl the Tyrell’s had to offer would simply never compare. After a denied proposal for a betrothal and you being taken away to Dragonstone Aemond felt powerless — until now.
Your entire body aches as you make out your surroundings. You had been taken in the middle of the night, forced onto dragon back with your hands and feet tied.
“Listen to me,” your uncle says as he crouches in front of you, “if you scream the guards will come and you’ll be thrown in the dungeons. You have no friends here except me. Do you understand?”
You nod your head in agreement, desperate to be free of the makeshift gag he had made for you.
“Aemond, this is treason,” you state plainly.
“Treason, would be betraying the crown, sweet niece,” he responds, “I am the crown.”
“Fuck you!” you grumble at him.
“Iksos bona skoros ao jaelagon?” Is that what you want?
Against your better judgment, you spit right in his face, observing him nervously as he wipes it away.
“Fiesty little thing you are.”
“What do you want with me, Aemond? Will you force me to kneel before you? Carve out my eye? Perhaps I’ll suffer the same fate as my brother?”
Ah, Lucerys. He was waiting for you to bring that up.
“While I’m sure that seeing you on your knees is a glorious sight, I have other plans for you.”
“I have no desire to bed you, Aemond. I am betrothed.”
The smirk on his face slightly drops at that. Betrothed.
“And where is Lord Stark now?” He questions casually.
“Preparing his army for war.”
“I wonder how it must feel?” he goes on, “to be whored out? Practically sold like a broodmare so that your pretender of a mother can build herself an army?”
“Better to be his whore than your war prize.”
The mask of cruelty on Aemond's face fades for a moment, and for a second, he almost looks hurt at your words.
“Is that what you think? That you’re merely a ‘prize’? You wound me, dear niece. Do you not remember that I love you?”
Ice fills your veins at his confession and your heart drops into your stomach. Things could’ve been different, they should’ve been.
“I don’t understand why things had to escalate in this way, Aemond,” you say as you start to cry, “you could’ve —“ you choke back a sob, “you could’ve had me.”
Aemond takes your chin in his hands as he lets out a laugh.
“I do have you, baby.”
Fear courses through you at his words. Aemond unsheathes a knife from his jacket pocket and holds it to your chest for a brief moment before pulling away.
“Hold still,” he demands as he cuts the rope that holds your ankles together.
You wince as Aemond forcefully spreads your legs apart, violently cutting a hole into your undergarments, exposing your cunt to him.
“Tell me, has Stark fucked this pretty little pussy yet?”
He knows he hasn’t, he knows you and Cregan still have yet to meet. He wants to hear you say it.
“N-no,” you stutter as you continue to cry. Gods, you look so pretty when you cry, Aemond thinks to himself. He only smirks in response.
“You are still a maiden, right, sweet one? You haven’t let little Lord Strong defile you, have you?”
“Gods, Aemond. No.”
“Hm,” Aemond frowns, “a shame for him, really. Now he’ll never have the chance being that you will never see him again.”
“They’ll come for you,” you tell him.
“If they wish to keep me away from you and your perfect cunt they’ll have to kill you,” he muses, “But even then…”
A darkness takes over your uncles face and you soon realize the Aemond you once knew is gone. You are dealing with a whole new monster. He is an animal, a beast — and you are merely prey.
“Do you touch yourself?” he asks, pulling you from your thoughts.
“S-sometimes,” you whisper, feeling ashamed, but finding it difficult to lie to him.
“What do you think about when you do?”
“Not you,” you retort.
He runs two fingers through your soft folds, causing you to gasp, before bringing his fingers up to the light.
“Liar,” he states as his fingers glisten, coated in your slick. “You know you don’t have to lie to me, baby. I think about you, too…”
You can’t help but notice the evident bulge in your uncle's pants, his cock strains against the delicate fabric. You can tell how big he is. You try your best to divert your gaze elsewhere.
“Now, I’m going to untie your wrists. Might I remind you of what I said earlier: You are far better off in here, with me, than out there,” he says, pointing to the door with his dagger.
You’re not sure if you believe him. At this point, you might prefer to be thrown in the dungeon with the rats, left to starve. Instead of arguing, you simply nod your head as Aemond cuts you free.
You feel wobbly as you stand on your feet, Aemond holds your hands as you gain your composure. Your ankles and wrists feel sore, but Aemond rubs his thumb against your wrist soothingly.
Your heart is practically beating out of your chest as that familiar ache between your legs begins to grow. You know you shouldn't be aroused by this behavior, but your body is betraying you.
Aemond picks you up swiftly and places you onto his bed. There was a time where you dreamed of this. If only your younger self could see you now.
Your thoughts are interrupted once again as Aemond’s large hand wraps around your throat. He squeezes lightly, trying to keep you in your place. You make a feeble attempt to push him away, but he is too strong and you can’t break free.
“Please, don’t be afraid of me,” he pleads, “I need you,” the timbre of his voice is so low that you aren’t sure if he meant for you to hear. His free hand moves to your breast, massaging it roughly through your chemise.
"You are so beautiful," he says, leaning over you. You feel him press himself against you, his cock rubbing against your leg, pre-cum leaks out of the tip and smears onto your thigh.
He pushes back and nestles himself comfortably between your thighs. His dexterous fingers part your folds ever so gently, exposing you to him completely.
“Gods, you’re perfect. The most perfect girl in the entire realm,” he groans before his face is buried between your thighs. His plump lips suck at your clit as he prods at it with his tongue before moving up and down your slit. You feel yourself getting wetter, arousal leaks from your core and Aemond laps it up eagerly. On instinct, you spread your legs even further apart, your body betraying you once again.
Aemond licks harder, and you feel the soft muscle of his tongue slip inside you. A loud moan erupts from your chest as a tight knot forms in the pit of your stomach. Your hand shoots down to to tug at Aemond’s silver tresses.
You’re so close, you’ve never been touched like this before and one final glide of his tongue pushes you over the edge. You cry out loudly as you cum, your vision going blurry as your cunt contracts around him.
Aemond pulls himself from your core and stands up, grabbing your hips. He harshly pulls you to the edge of the bed and you feel his cock pressing against you. You eagerly push towards him this time. There is no point in fighting him. You gasp as he enters you fully, filling you completely. The stretch is overwhelming, a tight burning sensation. The fullness begins to feel good as your silky walls flutter around him.
“Just relax,” he coos, “I know you want me.”
You feel his cock twitch inside you slightly as he groans, leaning down to bite your shoulder.
“Fuuuck,” he drawls, “you’re so tight and wet, baby, so perfect; just like I dreamed you would be.”
Your cheeks bloom crimson at his praise and you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him tightly as he fucks into you. The sharp pain soon fades into pleasure. The fat tip of his cock relentlessly bullies that sweet spot inside you that you were never able to reach on your own.
Aemond reaches up to paw at your breast, pinching at your nipple roughly, and a wave of pleasure crashes over you. Your spine tingles and your toes curl, causing you to moan in response.
"You think Stark could fuck you like this? Make you feel the way I do? That anyone could?" He rasps as his thrusts become relentless. He slaps your face when you fail to give him an answer. A shameful whimper escapes you.
"Answer. Me." he demands between thrusts, his teeth gritted together, his thumb swiping over the rosy, delicate flesh where he hit you.
“N-no, Aemond! Only you, just you! I'm sorry!” you all but choke out to him.
“That’s right, my sweet. You were fuckin’ made for me,” he grunts before pausing his thrusts, his hips stuttering before he pulls his cock out of you almost entirely. Making note of the blood that coats his shaft, hoping you don’t notice.
“You know it, I know it, your mother knows it,” he grits out, “you’re mine.”
“Yes, Aemond, I’m — fuck! I’m yours,” you mewl.
“Do you love me?" he asks, your mind is hazy, and stars blur your vision as he continues to drill into you. Even while he is taking control, his insecurity still has a way of shining through his cruel demeanor.
You loved him once, long ago. Maybe you could love him again? You know the answer he is looking for is not ‘maybe.’
"Kessa, Avy jorrāelan." Yes, I love you.
Aemond grins at this, impressed with your knowledge of your shared mother tongue.
He slams his cock into you full force, stilling as he presses hard against your cervix, making you cry out again. His hand tangles in your hair as he places his forehead against yours.
“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he tells you.
You grip at his hips, pulling him into you.
“C-cum inside me,” you moan through bated breaths, “claim me as your own, once and for all.”
“You’ve always been mine,” he says as he complies, pushing into you deeply as he shoots his hot cum inside of you, warmth blooming in your chest as he does so; before collapsing on top of you.
“What happens now?” you ask, as he gently pulls himself out of your heat, allowing his seed to seep onto the bed sheets.
“This is just the beginning.”
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen smut#ewan mitchell#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen x niece!reader#aemond x reader smut#aemond x strong!reader#dark!aemond#aemond x you#aemond x reader#aemond smut#hotd smut#aemond fanfic#aemond targaryen x you#aemond x y/n#aemond targaryen oneshot#aemond imagine#aemond x niece!reader#house of the dragon smut#hotd s2#dark!aemond x reader#aemond targaryen fan fiction#aemond x niece!#aemond x strong!#prince aemond#aemond oneshot#aemond one eye#prince regent!aemond#prince regent aemond! x reader
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Kinktober Day 18 - Corruption with Suguru Geto (cult leader)
contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, piv (unprotected), creampie, mentions of getting reader pregnant, oral (receiving & giving), slight manipulation? v brief guided masturbation, v brief spit swallowing, calls reader dove, consensual
˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 7.8k
a/n: a little slow burn before the smut
The only sound in the room was that of candles burning up on the altar. Incense heavy in the air seemed to fog up your mind the longer you were breathing it in. You knelt before the stage where Suguru usually stood. In your mind, your eyes set on his image looming over you-royal and imposing.
But it wasn't your imagination of him that held your attention; it was the real Suguru, standing behind you, watching.
"You've been devoted," his voice cut through the quiet, rich and smooth. "Faithful."
Your heart stuttered in your chest at the sound of his praise, but the fear-that had always simmered beneath the awe-remained. Suguru Geto was no ordinary man. To you, he was a saviour. His voice, his teachings had shown you a path to a better world. He'd lifted you from a world full of ignorance and weakness. And you were his now-fully and completely.
"I live to serve you, Mr Geto" you whispered, your voice trembling under the weight of your devotion.
His hand came to rest on the back of your neck, his fingers cool against your skin. The touch was soft, but you knew it was no gesture of affection. It was a reminder. A reminder of the power he had over you. A reminder that you were his.
"And that's what I love about you," he whispered, his hand on the back of your head angling you so you looked up at him. His face was angelic, yet terrifyingly shadowed by his past. "So innocent. So… pure."
The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine; eyes glinted darkly-the look in them far from benevolent. You swallowed hard, not daring to break his gaze.
"You've followed my every word," he continued, his thumb brushing your cheek in a mockery of tenderness. "Listened so well. But you still cling to that part of yourself that resists. That innocent part that fears me."
Your breath hitched in your throat. Fear? You didn't fear him—did you? You told yourself that, the flutter of anxiety in your chest, the shakiness of your breath wasn't fear, but awe and reverence. He was your leader. Your saviour. You'd give him anything, do anything for him. And yet, when he touched you like this, when he spoke to you in that low, possessive tone, a small part of you shook.
"I am not afraid of you," you said softly, your tone almost pleading. You would never want him to think that you were unworthy. Not when you had your entire life dedicated to him.
His lips curled into a smile, but it wasn't kind. "No?" His hand tightened in your hair, pulling you up to your feet with a sharp tug. You gasped in pain, but he silenced you with a single dangerous glance. "You're lying to me."
You shook your head quickly, heart racing as you tried to find your voice. "No, I-”
"You should fear me," he growled low, nearly a tease. "You should fear what I'm capable of, what I could make you into."
Your legs went weak as he pulled you closer, his eyes never leaving yours. The possessiveness in his grasp was unyielding now. "But that's what I love about you," he whispered, his heated breath dancing over your face. "That's what makes you different from the others."
He smiled again, and this time, it was full of malice. "You're still mine to break.”
A cold chill ran down your spine. You had never doubted him, never questioned his teachings, his will. But there was something in his words tonight that did unsettle you. There was something darker than you'd ever seen before and it made you realise just how powerless you were before him.
"What do you want?" you whispered, unable to hide the fear this time in your tone
Suguru's eyes darkened, a smile spreading across his face as if he had been waiting for just that question. "I want to corrupt you.”
Corrupt? He had always talked of purity, and of cleansing the world of weakness and raising his followers. But now… this? It didn’t make sense…yet, with his gaze boring into your eyes with an intensity that made you shrink beneath him, so small and insignificant, you knew he meant it.
"You see," he whispered, drawing closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, "Innocence is a flaw. It's a weakness. And I hate weakness more than anything, you know this."
You wanted to speak, to protest, to tell him that you were not weak. You were loyal, devoted, but your words clung precariously to the base of your throat, choking on the budding panic in your chest. You were helpless under his gaze, under his control.
"But don't worry dove," he continued, his voice soft, almost soothing. "I'll fix that. I'll take that innocence from you. I'll mould you and when I’m done… you'll be something far more perfect. You'll be mine. Entirely."
His fingers slid downwards, tracing along your throat. It was as if he was making you aware of his ownership of you, marking you as his. "You've given me everything," he said, his lips now brushing against your skin. "But there's still one part of you that resists, that fears. That's the part I'm going to destroy."
"You love me, right?" he whispered, and his lips brushed the skin just beneath your ear; his voice was dripping with dark amusement. The hand on the side of your throat pressed, just enough that your pulse raced beneath his fingers.
You swallowed and tried to steady your breathing. "Yes," you whispered, though the word came out shaky, uncertain. You had loved him-or at least, you had thought you did. Your whole life had wrapped itself around him, your devotion a shining beacon that led you through every action, every thought. Yet standing here, shaking at his touch, with his malignant promises of corruption echoing through your mind, you wondered whether it was love that had ever tied you to him.
“Say it," Suguru said, his fingers closing that much tighter around your throat, his voice silky smooth. There was a shine in his eyes, something almost feral, carnivorous.
"I… I love you, Suguru," you stuttered, the words sounding empty as they fell from your lips. But it was what he wanted to hear. It was what you'd told yourself every night you'd gone to your knees in prayer before him. Your saviour. Your god.
He hummed low in his throat; the smile on his lips was cruel, darkened by the obsession that seemed to twist inside him like a coiling snake. "Good," he murmured, "Because love, my dear, is sacrifice."
His hand had moved from your throat, and for one moment, you felt this flicker of relief. Though it was short-lived, as he grasped your wrist and tugged you nearer. Flickering candlelight caught in his eyes and the gleam in them made his eyes look like that of a devil.
"What, my dove, is the greatest sacrifice you could make for me?" he asked, liltingly, coaxing you into answering.
You stared wide-eyed up at him as he leaned down, his lips so close to yours as he spoke the answer.
"Yourself."
The word hung in the air like poison, soaking into your brain. Yourself. He didn't just want your love or your faith; he wanted to consume you, strip away the last remnants of who you were until there was nothing left but his creation. A puppet moulded and broken to fit his twisted vision of perfection.
You shuddered, the cold realisation settling over you like a mantle. Yet even then, you could not bring yourself to draw away, could not refuse him. He was everything in your world. Somewhere, deep inside, there was a part of you that knew he had started peeling your innocence away layer by layer, over a long period of time. Tonight was merely the consummation of all that.
Suguru's eyes lingered on yours, his hand clenching around your wrist in a firm-but-not-painful grip. He could feel the shake of your body, the rapid thrum of your pulse beneath his fingers. And he knew that despite the fear which had taken root inside you, something deeper still resided.
Longing.
He didn't have to coax that out of you. It had always been there beneath the surface. You were trapped in his grasp from the very moment you'd first laid eyes on him. Drawn to him in ways you didn't fully understand. His approval, his attention-it was like air. Necessary. Life-giving.
And he knew it. He always had.
"You've been so so loyal," Suguru murmured, softening the sharp edge of cruelty and giving way to something more dangerous, something almost sweet. His thumb traced lazy circles over the back of your hand, a contrast to the possessive grip he still held on your wrist. "So eager to please me. To earn my favour."
Your breath caught in your throat, the ripple of warmth emanating from his words and spreading into your chest. You really didn't want to admit how much it affected you, how much you yearned for his praise. But that was just a fact. You had lived for those moments when he would give you even the tiniest glimpse of approval. A look, a word, a fleeting touch-it was all you needed to feel whole.
“Suguru" you whispered, your voice quiet, but you knew he had heard you.
His lips curled in a slow, pleased smile, and for a moment, his grasp on your wrist loosened, his fingers stroking down your arm in a way that made your skin tingle. "You want my praise, don't you?" he asked, his voice low and velvety, drawing the truth out of you that you'd been trying so hard to suppress. "You want to hear me say that you've made me proud. That you've pleased me."
Your heart was racing, and the intensity in his gaze forbade concealing it. You nodded, barely able to breathe. "Yes," you confessed, the words tumbling out before you were able to restrain them. "I want to please you.”
"Of course you do," he purred, his hand sliding to rest on your waist now, pulling you that much closer until there was barely anything between your bodies anymore. "You live for it. You live for me.”
Like a hook, his words dug deep and dragged with them the raw need that built inside of you over the time you’d know him. You did live for him. For his approval-for his attention. His praise. You wanted it more than anyone else did.
"I do," you whispered, voice shaking but earnest. There was no longer any point in hiding it. "I live for you, Suguru."
His hand tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him now, the heat of his breath enticing against your ear as he leaned in. "Good girl," he whispered, the praise fuelling something inside you you no longer could deny.
The way those words had tumbled from his lips sent a thrill coursing through your veins. You'd made him proud. You'd earned his approval, his love, and in that one instant, nothing else mattered.
"I've always known you would give me everything," Suguru continued, his lips brushing the side of your neck now. "Because you need me, don't you?"
You swallowed, your pulse fluttering madly beneath the touch. "I do," you admitted, hardly recognising the sound of your own voice. It was desperate, yearning. But it was the truth. You needed him like the air to breathe, like the earth below your feet to keep you standing.
"And you'll give me everything," Suguru whispered, his hand sliding up your back now, to cradle your neck as he tilted your head just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, consuming, and you were helpless to do anything but fall into them. "Because I am all you need."
The words fell like a spell over you, and you knew in that moment how true they sounded. Suguru had become your entire world, the centre of your universe, and you would do anything-anything-to keep that light shining on you.
"I am yours," you whispered, the words tumbling out like a vow. "I'll give you everything.”
A smirk spread across Suguru's face, and you thought you caught a glitter of satisfaction in his eyes. He had you completely and now he would mould you into something that was perfect. Something that only belonged to him.
"Of course you will," he whispered, moving his lips over yours, soft and barely touching, just a promise of the corruption yet to come. "Because there is nothing else for you, my dove. Nothing but me."
And as his lips finally captured yours in a possessive, claiming kiss, you realised just how far you had fallen. There was no going back, no escaping the gravity of his control.
But when his praise, his touch, and his presence wrapped completely around you, you no longer wanted to. You had been waiting for this moment-longing for it. And now, there was no turning back. You were his-in body, in soul, in every fragment of your being.
The kiss was slow, as if he relished this instant-the taste of your submission. His mouth against yours was possessive as his tongue sought entrance past your lips. You parted them just enough as you kissed him back with all the desperation you'd locked inside, the yearning beneath your devotion, and the need to be wholly his.
He slowly pulled away, his breath mingled with yours, the closeness chasing thoughts of anything but him. His thumb brushed over your swollen lips, his dark eyes glittering with satisfaction, as if he could feel with certainty the way your world had already shifted, how you'd already begun to break under the weight of your love for him.
"There's nothing nicer than to see a person so devoted, so in favour of belonging to me," Suguru whispered; his voice husky. "And you-" he continued, seemingly musing over his next words as his gaze raked over your face, drinking in how you trembled for him. "You're the most precious of them all."
Your chest tightened at his words, the praise filling those hollow parts of you that once felt empty. You were precious to him. He saw you. He wanted you. There was nothing else you needed to hear, nothing else you desired but to serve him, be whatever he wished you to be. The fear and the doubt was already slipping away, replaced with an all-consuming need to prove yourself worthy of his love.
"I’ll do whatever it takes," you whispered, your voice low and firm, your gaze fixed upon him with such regard it almost bordered on obsession. "Whatever to make you proud."
Suguru's gaze was dangerous, but you didn't shrink from it, even as he silently ordered you back on your knees. You leaned into the darkness, dying to have the feeling of his control wrap tighter around you. The tips of his fingers trailed down the side of your face; deceptively gentle, his eyes held a promise of something far more sinister.
"I know you will," he said, his voice making a shiver run down your spine. "You'll become exactly what I want you to be. Pure. Perfect. Mine."
His fingers curled under your chin, his firm touch tilting your head back to meet his gaze once more, and something in the way he looked at you was intoxicating. Like he could already envision how he was going to reshape and mould you into more, into something that was his alone.
"You're so beautiful when you break," Suguru murmured, his lips ghosting over your skin again and sending a wave of heat over your body. "When you give in to me completely."
You swallowed, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy blanket. And yet, the fear that should have accompanied them was nowhere to be found. Instead, all you felt was anticipation. A dark thrill ran through you at the thought of what he might do next, how he might strip away the last vestiges of your old self and rebuild you in his image.
Suguru slowly moved away from you. You shivered at the loss of his contact, your body instinctively craving his warmth, for the weight of his presence. You remained kneeling, your eyes wide with anticipation, your breathing shallow as you waited for him to make his move.
He looked down at you, his face nearly angelical, save for something behind his gaze-a hunger that seemed to grow the more he watched you. A soft smile tugged at his lips, and the sight of it made your chest tighten with anticipation. You wanted more; you needed more of his approval, more of his praise. Being under his gaze, beneath him, felt like the only place you belonged.
"You're so eager to please," Suguru says, low and teasing, his eyes trailing over your form on your knees before him. "So desperate to please me."
Suguru took in the sight of you, kneeling there, so desperate to please him. His hand moved with languorous deliberation, his thumb stroking across your lips and sending your heartbeat racing. The touch was deceptively soft, almost gentle, but you knew better than to believe its softness. His power, his control over you, was in every stroke of his fingers.
You instinctively parted your lips for him, the need to submit-to give him what he wanted-overwhelming any sense of hesitation.
His thumb slipped past your lips, pressing against your tongue in a possessive, almost casual gesture. You closed your lips around it, your gaze never leaving his while you followed without question, the taste of him on your tongue.
"There you go," he whispered, his voice soft, yet with that undercurrent of control which ran shivers down your spine. "You know your place, don't you?"
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, the dominance in his chest making you feel small and helpless but treasured in a way only he knew how. His thumb slid out languidly, dragging across your lower lip before his hand splayed over your jaw, catching your face and holding it in place as he tilted your chin up to force you to meet his gaze.
"Look at you," he said, his eyes raking over your face in dark satisfaction. "So willing. So obedient."
Your body trembled with anticipation, desperate for more of his praise. You'd give him anything, give him everything if it kept you in his good favour, kept that twisted look of affection in his eyes.
"I've trained you well," Suguru continued as his thumb stroked along your jaw-line - light, yet commanding.
Suguru’s hand moves from your jaw to the back of your head. The motion is sudden, possessive, and it sends a jolt of both fear and excitement through you, your pulse quickening. He tilts your head at an angle, exposing the vulnerable stretch of your neck, and the chill of the air against your skin makes you shiver. He leans down momentarily, his breath hot as it skims over your throat, lingering close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from him, but he doesn’t touch you—yet.
“You’re mine,” Suguru whispers, his voice dangerously low, each word sliding over your skin like silk. His lips brush your ear, sending a thrill through you that leaves you breathless. “Body, mind, and soul. I own every part of you.”
His words pierce through you, both terrifying and exhilarating. The truth in them is undeniable, and you can feel your heart pounding wildly in response.
Suguru’s grip tightens in your hair as he pulls your head downward with unyielding pressure, guiding you into position right above his crotch. The roughness of the action ignites something in you, a deeper surrender. He presses your cheek against the hard outline of his cock straining beneath his robes, the heat of his arousal palpable even through the fabric. The weight of it against your face makes your breath hitch, and desire swells within you.
“Show me your devotion,” Suguru commands, his voice laced with lust. “Prove to me how much you crave to please me.”
Without hesitation, your fingers tremble as they work to free him from the confines of his robes. The fabric gives way, and your breath catches at the sight of him—thick, hard, and aching for your attention. A primal need floods your senses and the desire to please him is overwhelming.
You take him into your mouth, your tongue swirling delicately over the sensitive tip. Suguru’s low groan vibrates through the air, his hips shifting slightly as he presses further into your mouth. His hand remains firm in your hair, controlling the rhythm, dictating your pace. He’s pushing you to take more, to take him deeper, and you oblige, wanting nothing more than to feel his approval wash over you like a reward.
“Good girl,” Suguru rasps, his voice strained with pleasure. “Take it all. Show me just how badly you want to worship me.”
His words drive you, and you moan around him, the vibrations sending shudders through his body. You push yourself to take him deeper, feeling the stretch of your throat as he fills you completely. Every movement, every sound you make is for him, to satisfy his desires. His hand tightens, guiding you, forcing you to match the pace he sets as he rocks his hips against your face, thrusting deeper with each pass.
“I’m going to corrupt you-,” he growls, his eyes dark with lust as they bore into you. “I’ll make you mine in every way imaginable, and you’ll love every moment of it.”
His hips grind against you with growing urgency, his control slipping. The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, and the idea of complete corruption—of being consumed by him—makes your pulse race with both dread and desire. His next words cut through the haze of pleasure, dripping with promise.
“If you’re lucky,” he murmurs, his voice dark and seductive, “I might even make you my wife. Can you imagine it? Bound to me forever, carrying my children, serving me in every way.”
The image of being his wife—of belonging to him in the most permanent way possible—sends a shiver through your body. The thought is intoxicating, and you redouble your efforts, your mouth working faster, more eagerly. You want to prove yourself worthy of his offer, to show him that you are willing to give him everything.
“That’s it,” he praises, his voice rough as his control slips further. “Keep going. Show me how much you want it.”
Your fingers gently run up his thighs, feeling the tension in his muscles as he fights to maintain his composure. His grip on you tightens, and his hips jerk forward more insistently. You can feel his growing urgency, the way his body tenses as you take him deeper, your throat constricting around him.
“You’re learning so quickly,” Suguru groans, his voice low and strained. “I knew you’d be the perfect disciple, the perfect vessel for my desires.”
His praise sends another surge of heat through you, and you push yourself further, taking him to the very edge. His breath comes faster now, more ragged, and his muscles quiver under your touch. His dark eyes remain locked on you, watching as you worship him with your tongue, trailing kisses along his cock.
“Look at you,” he growls, his voice thick with desire. “So devoted. You were made for this—made to be mine.”
Your free hand reaches up to cup his balls, massaging them gently, and his reaction is immediate. His hips jerk forward, and a guttural moan escapes him as the added stimulation pushes him closer to the edge.
"Fuck," Suguru groans, his breath hitching. "You're going to make me come."
You take him deeper, intent on pushing him over the edge. The sound of your mouth working around his cock and his gasps and groans fill the room. When you pull back to take his balls into your mouth, his control shatters and he lets out a raw, primal sound, his body trembling as he teeters on the brink of release.
"That's it," he pants, his voice hoarse. "Worship me. Show me how desperate you are for my approval."
You suck harder, the taste of his skin flooding your senses, and you know he's close. His hips surge against you in a desperate need, his fingers yanking your hair taut as he loses himself to the pleasure. You're giving him everything, lost to his power, and in one blinding moment, you know you can't turn back. You are his-completely, utterly, and irrevocably.
"Shit—" Suguru groans, his voice tight and shaking with pleasure. "Don't stop. Keep going, just like that."
The fervor in his command pushes you further, spurring you to redouble your efforts. Your tongue traces slow, deliberate circles around the length of his shaft as you bob your head, taking him as deep as your throat will allow. Wet sounds from your mouth working around him echo through the room, mixing with the sharp gasps and moans that escape him. Every single one of his sounds furthers you ahead and feeds your longing to give him everything.
Suddenly he yanks you off his cock with a quick, hard jerk. You gasp for air, chest rising and falling as you look up at him, hot and wanting. His breathing is ragged, eyes aflame with lust as he holds your gaze.
"Wan' paint that pretty face" he pants, his voice hoarse with desire.
His hand closes firmly around his cock, stroking it with quick, practised movements. You sit back on your heels and watch, awed, as his body tightens, muscles in his abdomen flexing with every stroke. The tension builds inside him, and you can feel the air between you thicken in anticipation. Suguru's eyes don't leave yours, dark and hungry, as he presses himself closer to the edge.
With a low growl, his body shudders and he reaches that climax, his cum spilling hot and thick across your face. The warmth of it drips down your cheeks, marking you as his. The sensation is electric, sending a pulse of arousal straight through you. You sit still, chest heaving, your face flushed and slick with the evidence of his desire.
Suguru looks down at you, the deep satisfaction and possession written into his features making you feel the weight of his gaze as he is taking you in-marked by him, claimed by him. You know in that one instant you have finally become his, and something inside you clicks, turning in place, sealing the two of you together.
With a slow, deliberate movement, Suguru leans forward, wiping some of his release from your cheek with his fingers. The touch is intimate, almost tender, as he smears the cum across your skin, his fingers brushing the curve of your lips. Without needing to be told, you part your lips, allowing him to press his finger inside. Your tongue instinctively swirls around his finger, tasting him.
“Taste what you’ve done, how well you’ve pleased me.” he murmurs, his voice low and husky with satisfaction.
You suck softly on his finger, savouring the salty flavour of his essence. There’s something undeniably intimate about the act—almost more so than the worship you’d just given him. It feels as though he’s marking you not just physically, but from the inside out, sealing his claim on you. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, leaving you wanting more.
Slowly, Suguru pulls his finger out of your mouth as he stares at you unblinkingly. "Stand up," he commands; his voice back to its authoritative sharpness. "I want-no-need to see all of you.
You rise to your feet, letting the robe fall to the ground, the fabric pooling around your ankles. Standing before him naked, you let his eyes roam across your form, taking in each curve. His eyes gleam with dark appreciation; you can feel his longing wash over you like a palpable force. He reaches out and his fingers outline your body lightly, as though committing every inch of you to memory.
“You're exquisite” he says in a soft tone, his voice full of deep admiration. “I can see why you've caught my attention.”
He steps closer, his body pressing against yours. You can feel the heat of his skin through his clothes, his erection brushing against your stomach. His hands settle on your hips, pulling you flush against him as his lips hover near your ear.
“Imagine this,” Suguru whispers, his voice dripping with seduction. “You, by my side as we expand our influence. Your beauty and charm, helping draw others to our cause. Together, we’ll create something unstoppable—a following of devoted disciples, eager to worship and serve our every desire.”
His hands begin to roam again, trailing over your smooth skin, caressing you with a possessive hunger. Each touch ignites a fire within you, leaving a burning trail in its wake. You can feel the power in his vision, the allure of the future he promises—a future where you are not just a follower, but an equal partner in his rise to power.
“What do you say?” he asks, his eyes locking onto yours with a dangerous mix of ambition and lust. “Will you join me?”
His words resonate deep within you, filling you with a sense of purpose you’ve never felt before. The thought of standing beside him, building something greater than yourselves, is intoxicating. You feel the weight of his offer, the power of his vision, and know there is only one answer.
“Yes,” you breathe, your voice steady and filled with conviction. “I’ll join you, Suguru, always.”
A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face at your response. His hands tighten on your hips as he pulls you even closer. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice soft yet laced with power. “I knew you’d be the perfect partner in this endeavour.”
Leaning in, his lips brush lightly against your ear as he whispers, “Now, let’s seal our pact and bind ourselves together in this new world we’re going to create.”
His lips meet yours with fervour, the kiss deep and consuming, as though he’s pouring every ounce of his desire and ambition into it. You lose yourself in the sensation, your body pressing against his, your hands roaming over his back, pulling him closer.
Suguru guides you toward the stage, his hand still firmly gripping your hip, the anticipation between you thick in the air. As you ascend the steps, the vast, empty auditorium stretches out before you, silent and waiting, as though it knows something momentous is about to unfold.
He turns you to face him, his eyes dark with both lust and purpose. “This is where it all begins,” he declares, his voice echoing through the empty hall. “This is where we’ll stand together, united in our cause, and claim our place in this world.”
Suguru cups your face, his fingers firm yet gentle, his touch possessive. “I claim you now—as my partner, my equal, and my lover,” he says, his voice filled with the gravity of his words. “Together, we’ll build an empire. A following that will reshape the world according to my will.”
His lips crash against yours once more, this time with a sense of finality, as if sealing a pact that cannot be broken. The kiss is deep and consuming, a silent promise of the future that awaits both of you. As you pull apart, the weight of the moment lingers, his earlier words resonating within you. You're no longer just a follower but a partner, a co-creator in the new world Suguru envisions. With him by your side, you know nothing will stand in your way.
Suguru’s fingers trail over your body, tracing the curves of your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples before sliding lower, across your stomach. Goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch, a physical reaction to the heat that builds between you. His voice cuts through the silence, low and husky with desire.
"I want to see you," he commands, his eyes dark and intense. "I want to watch as you touch yourself for me."
His gaze never falters as he guides your hands to your breasts, urging you to caress them, to tease your own nipples. You obey, feeling his eyes on you, and the combination of his focus and your own touch sends waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Your breath hitches, and a soft moan escapes your lips.
"That's it," he murmurs, his voice laced with encouragement. "Just like that."
He helps you settle onto the podium, the cool wood beneath your bare skin a stark contrast to the warmth of his touch. Suguru positions you at the edge, your legs parted, giving him a clear view of your glistening folds. His eyes roam over your body, devouring every inch of you, making you feel both vulnerable and empowered under his gaze.
"Touch yourself for me," he instructs, his tone commanding yet filled with desire. "I want to see you pleasure yourself—watch as you bring yourself to the brink."
Obediently, your fingers glide over your sensitive folds, teasing yourself before dipping inside. A soft gasp leaves your lips as the sensation floods through you, each movement sending a shiver of pleasure up your spine. As you continue, Suguru’s eyes remain locked on you, drinking in the sight of your every movement, his desire palpable in the air between you.
Your fingers alternate between teasing your clit and slowly working their way inside your pussy as Suguru watches, leading your every action.
"You're breathtaking," he praises, his voice low and reverent. "The way you move, the sounds you make—it's intoxicating."
Leaning in, his lips brush against your inner thigh, each kiss sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His mouth trails upwards, his kisses growing more heated, until he finally reaches your pussy.
"Let me taste you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to feel you on my tongue, to drink in every bit of you."
Without waiting for a response, his mouth descends on you, his tongue swirling around your clit with expert precision. The sudden intensity of his touch makes you cry out, your back arching as the pleasure overwhelms you. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place, preventing you from escaping the delicious torment he inflicts with his tongue.
Suguru continues to worship your body with his mouth, his lips and tongue working together in perfect harmony, exploring every inch of your sensitive flesh. His lips suckle at your clit, his teeth grazing it lightly, sending shockwaves through you. You’re lost in the sensations, the pleasure building within you, growing more intense with every passing second.
"That's it," he murmurs, his voice muffled as he continues to work you with his mouth. "Let yourself go. Surrender to the pleasure. I want to feel you come undone."
His fingers slide inside you, curling and stroking in just the right spots, pushing you closer to the edge. The combination of his tongue and fingers is almost too much, your body trembling as you teeter on the brink of release.
"Come for me," he commands, his voice deep with desire. "I want to feel your pleasure, to see you give in completely."
He’s good with his tongue and fingers, too good that you can barely hold on, already fast approaching the edge and with a final flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, the tension within you snaps. You’re thrown over the edge, your body convulsing as the orgasm rips through you, waves of pleasure crashing down, leaving you breathless and trembling. Your moans fill the room, your hands gripping the edge of the podium as you ride out the overwhelming sensations.
Suguru doesn't stop—his mouth and fingers continue to work you, prolonging your climax, pushing you further until you’re completely spent. As you come down from the high, your body still trembling from the intensity, he pulls back, his eyes filled with satisfaction and dark desire and his lips slick with your arousal.
"You’re incredible," he says softly, his voice filled with awe. "Together, we’ll be unstoppable."
In this moment, a deep connection forms between you, a sense of purpose and belonging that you’ve never felt before. His words echo in your mind, filling you with pride—you've proven yourself to him, shown that you are worthy of standing by his side as he reshapes the world.
Suguru pulls you into his arms, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, a reminder of the pleasure you've just shared. His hands roam over your body, as if committing every curve, every inch of you to memory. When he pulls back, his eyes are filled with both desire and something more—purpose.
"I want you to bear my child," he whispers, his voice low and intense, the weight of his words settling deep inside you. "I want our love to create new life, a symbol of our bond, our power, and everything we’ll build together."
Suguru's hands slide down to rest on your stomach, his fingers splayed as though he can already feel the life growing within you. His gaze is intense, eyes gleaming with excitement as he speaks softly, "Imagine it—a child born of our union, raised in the shadow of our empire, destined to carry on our legacy." His voice vibrates with the significance of his vision, and you can feel the gravity of his request settling into your soul.
To bear his child would be to solidify your bond, creating a living testament to both your love and shared ambition. His cock brushes against your belly, heat radiating from him like a promise of what’s to come, his desire unmistakable. His eyes glimmer with both lust and determination, as if he's already picturing the future that awaits you both.
"I want to watch you grow and change with our new life inside you," he growls, his voice thick with want. "Knowing you're carrying my child..." His cock slides along your wet folds, teasing your entrance with slow, deliberate strokes, heightening the anticipation. Every inch of his movement is calculated to make you ache for him, the tension between you building to an unbearable height.
"Feel how ready you are for me," he murmurs, his voice a dark whisper. "Your body knows what it wants... craves the feeling of me inside you." His cock continues to tease, the head of it pressing lightly against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His free hand cups your breast, fingers pinching and teasing your nipple, adding layers to the sensations flooding you.
"I'm going to fill you up," he promises, his voice almost a growl, eyes locked onto yours, burning with intent. "I'm going to make you mine in every way possible."
The anticipation coils tight in your belly as he continues to tease, his cock poised at your entrance but never fully pushing in, the tip only teasing. Your hips involuntarily push toward him, desperate for more.
"Please," you breathe, your voice breaking with need. "I want you inside me."
Suguru’s gaze darkens with satisfaction as he positions himself, his cock ready to push into you. He pauses for a beat, eyes locking with yours, his desire mixed with a hint of triumph. "Are you ready?" he asks, his voice rough, sending shivers through you.
You nod, your body trembling with anticipation. "Yes," you whisper, barely able to get the word out. “Please-”
He wastes no time and in one powerful thrust, he fills you completely, stretching you to accommodate his size. The sudden fullness takes your breath away, a gasp escaping your lips as your body adjusts to the intensity of his invasion. He groans, head falling back, as he revels in the sensation of your tight walls gripping him.
"You feel incredible," he murmurs, his hips starting to move, his cock sliding in and out of you with smooth, powerful strokes. "So perfect, so tight."
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing more of him. His hands come up and hold your hips tight, pinning you in place. He starts pounding into you with a brutal, relentless rhythm, his skin slapping against yours, echoing loudly in the empty auditorium.
His cock sinks into you without mercy, each stroke more insistent than the last. The bruising grip on your hips makes it just that much better, his dominion feeding into your excitement. The pleasure borders on pain, but the heady mix leaves you gasping, your mind consumed by the overwhelming sensations that flood your body.
With every thrust, the pleasure inside you builds, his pace quickly becoming relentless. "Take it," he growls, his voice heavy with dominance and lust. "Take every inch of me... let me fill you up."
His words drive you wild, your body responding instinctively as you meet each thrust, your movements in perfect sync with his. The feeling of his cock stretching and claiming you, combined with his commanding presence, is intoxicating beyond words. You surrender fully to him, lost in the rhythm of his body against yours.
Suguru's lips crash down onto yours, the kiss possessive and searing, his tongue dominating your mouth just as his cock dominates your body. The kiss is fierce, almost devouring, leaving you breathless and dizzy with desire. His teeth nip at your lower lip, sending a flash of pain mingled with pleasure through you, and you moan into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him even closer.
He bites down harder on your lip, just enough to draw blood, and the sharp pain sends a thrill through your entire being. The metallic taste of your own blood mingles with the raw ecstasy of the moment, heightening everything. You cry out, your body arching up to meet his powerful thrusts as he drives into you without mercy.
Suguru stares down at you, eyes burning with wild lust, hips digging into yours with bruising force. His rough force and the pleasure and pain all merge into a heady, overwhelming experience that threatens to consume every part of you.
"You're mine," Suguru growls, his voice dark with possession; raw dominance drips in every word. "Every inch of you belongs to me." His grip on your hips tightens, fingers digging into your skin as his thrusts grow more forceful, more demanding. The intensity between you spikes as he pulls back from the kiss, his eyes blazing with lust and power.
"Open your mouth," he orders, his tone commanding, leaving no room for hesitation. You part your lips without a second thought, anticipation thrumming through your body. With a swift, deliberate motion, he spits into your open mouth, his saliva mixing with the lingering metallic taste of your blood. The primal act sends a jolt through you, a declaration of his ownership, claiming you completely.
"Swallow," he commands, his thrusts never faltering as his cock drives in and out of you with relentless precision. The raw, unfiltered nature of the moment sends shivers down your spine, and you obediently swallow, your body responding to his every whim.
As you do, Suguru’s movements become more erratic, his breath heavy and laboured. You can feel his cock throb inside you, the heat of his impending release radiating through you, signalling that he's close to the edge. His voice is strained with pleasure as he growls, "You’re all fucking mine... my most devoted follower."
The pace quickens, his hips slamming against you with a desperate, frantic rhythm. The wet, obscene sounds of your bodies colliding fill the empty auditorium, creating a symphony of raw lust. The squelching sound of his cock plunging into your soaked pussy and the slap of your bodies meeting heighten the intensity, the air thick with the scent of sex and desire.
As Suguru's muscles tense in preparation for his orgasm, his thrusts start to get sloppier. His cock starts pulsating inside you, moving almost wild and desperate. The pleasure becomes overwhelming, your body trembling under his as you feel yourself on the brink.
"Come with me," he growls, his voice low and raw, "Let me feel you come undone around me."
His words are the final push you need. Your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, and you cry out as your body convulses, your walls clenching tight around his cock, milking him. The pleasure is all-consuming, your mind going blank with ecstasy as wave after wave washes over you.
Suguru follows close behind, his hips stuttering as he buries himself deep inside you, releasing with a guttural groan. His cock pulses, filling you with his thick cum, each spurt prolonging the shared pleasure. His head falls back in bliss as he grinds against you, drawing out every last sensation for both of you.
When he finally stills, he remains inside you, his body pressed against yours, both of you breathing heavily. His forehead rests against yours, his breaths short and ragged, the intensity of the moment still crackling between you. You can feel his cum seeping out of you, a tangible reminder of the bond you've just deepened.
He raises his head and your gaze meets, satisfaction and possessiveness swirling in the violet of his eyes. "You're amazing," he says in a husky murmur of contentment. "We are unstoppable."
You smile, still buzzing from aftershocks of pleasure. "I am ready for anything," you say, your voice even and steady, held with resolve. The weight in your words was no less than a commitment-not to him, but to what you were building together.
With one final, gentle kiss, Suguru pulls himself from you, his cum still seeping from your body. He helps you down from the podium, his touch light and reverent, unwilling to let go.
"Come," he says in a soft voice, his hand wrapping about yours. "Let's find somewhere more comfortable. I want to spend the rest of the night with you, exploring every inch of our connection.”
You follow him willingly, your heart pounding in anticipation and you know this is just the start, there will not be a time from now on where you are not by his side.
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© lovecuprite ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works
#ʚɞ writings#jjk#jjk drabbles#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk oneshot#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#geto suguru#geto smut#getou suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto x you#suguru geto smut#suguru x reader#jjk x you#geto#kinktober jjk#kinktober
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What John B Doesn't Know
JJ Maybank x fem Routledge reader
Author's note: repost from my old blog..unedited 🫣
Warnings : SMUT, secret relationship, unprotected sex in the hot tub, breeding? 😅
Summary: JJ can't keep his hands off you when it's just you two left in the hot tub
JJ and I were the only ones left in the hot tub by the end of the night. He sat directly across from me, eyeing me up and down as I watched my brother disappear into the chateau. I could have sworn he didn’t have a care in the world, almost silenting begging for us to be caught. Not even waiting a full 2 seconds before demanding for me.
“Come here,” He motioned me over to him, grabbing my hips when I was close enough and pulling me into his lap. “I thought he’d never leave.” He growled before grabbing the back of my neck and smashing his lips to mine. He wasted no time, sliding his hands back down to my hips to slowly roll me over his hardening length in his swim trunks.
“JJ,” I groaned before pulling away from his kiss. He chased my lips and slipped his finger into the front of my bikini bottoms. I had to silence my gasp as he traced circles onto my clit. “We can’t do this here.” I spit out through moans.
“Come on baby, no one can see us out here.” He insisted as his lips fell to my neck. “We haven’t had sex in so long.”
“You literally bent me over the couch this morning.”
“Exactly my point, princess. Far too fucking long.” He growled before sinking his teeth into the sweet spot on my neck. His fingers slid further down, teasing my aching entrance and I whined.
“We’ll get caught!” I whisper shouted and tried to pull away but he used his free hand to grab me by the back of my hair.
“Oh, what’s the matter princess? Don’t want John B to see what a little whore you are for his best friend?” He speaks too loudly as he slips a finger inside me and a cling to his shoulders for a sense of stability. “Don’t want him to see how good I fuck his baby sister?” I gasp when he starts pumping his finger in and out at an unrelenting pace. My hands claw down his back when my head falls into the crook of his neck. He hisses when my fingernails dig in a little too deep and curls his fingers upwards, leaving me powerless. “How your eyes roll to the back of your head when I make you cum.” My moans are muffled against his skin when he adds another finger, grinning at how easily I fall apart for him.
“We have to make this quick.” I plead and he’s quick to pull his fingers from me, lifting me up enough to pull his shorts down and tears the ties to my bottoms. He rips the fabric from me before throwing it across the tub. He quickly angles us both, and we sigh in relief as I sink down on his length. He grasps my hips harshly, thrusting up into me with purpose and I bite my bottom lip to stifle the moans falling from my mouth.
“So fucking pretty when you’re on my cock, baby.” He praises as I lift up and down, doing my best to meet his thrusts. I was determined to cum fast. We were not getting caught. I was so worked up already, nearly on the verge when he bit down hard on my shoulder. That was gonna leave a fucking mark. I hissed in pain as I yanked the back of his hair back. His growl had me clenching around him in seconds. “That's it, baby! Fuck!.” He panted as I came and continued thrusting up into me as I rode out my high.
He took me by surprise when he pulled me off of him and quickly spun me around, bending me over the edge of the tub before slamming back into me from behind. I let out a loud shriek and he clamped his hand over my mouth. The water was spilling over the edges of the tub with every violent thrust and my knees felt like they were gonna buckle as he hit my spot head on. My knuckles were turning white with my grip on the edge of the tub as JJ’s breathing intensified behind me. I always could tell when he was close. I came around him again and it was in that moment of euphoria that I realized that he wasn’t wearing a condom.
“JJ!” I tried to warn him but it was inaudible as he pressed his hand harder over my mouth. I felt his cock start to twitch and seconds later he was coating my insides with his seed. But he refused to stop. He kept fucking his cum deeper and deeper into my pussy as I winced from the overstimulation. I pried his hand away from his mouth before turning back with a glare.
“You’re gonna get me fucking pregnant and my brother is gonna kill you.” I spit out and he just smirks.
“I hope I do baby. Big brother can’t keep us apart then, can he?” I scoff as I ponder on whether or not that was his true intention. He finally comes to a stop, placing a kiss on the back of my shoulder before pulling out. He fishes out my bikini bottoms for me, helping me put them back on before pulling me into his arms. “You know I love you right?”
“I love you too dumbass, now let’s get inside before he sees us. I’m fucking exhausted.” He smirks before helping me out of the tub.
#jj maybank#jj maybank fic#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank smut#jj maybank x reader#rudy pankow#obx#rudy pankow fic#rudy pankow fanfiction#rudy pankow smut#obx fanfiction
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𝑩𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒈𝒆
⤷ Credits: Pinterest
Marcus Acacius x Wife!reader | WC : 2.7k | Proof read : NO | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN
Summary: After a tough battle, you tend to your husband's wounds in a bathhouse, which leads to more.
Warnings: SMUT, grinding, unprotected pinv (wrap it before you tap it), Implied age gap, Scars, Voyeurism, Spitting, both give switch vibes, a gladiator battle is described
A/n: this man in white did things to me but this man in red...UUIUBBYUDGYUTTSVHBBGFRDERFGHNJMKGF
Swords clashed, each metallic strike reverberating through the arena like the tolling of a death knell. You held your breath, chest tight with a mixture of fear and anticipation, every fiber of your being fixated on the brutal dance unfolding before you. Marcus, your husband, moved with the precision and grace of a predator, his muscles rippling under the unforgiving sun. Sweat glistened on his bronzed skin, and you could see the intense focus in his eyes, a gaze that seemed to pierce through the very soul of his opponent.
The gladiator facing him was a hulking brute, a mountain of a man with a scarred visage that spoke of countless battles and victories. His movements were powerful, each swing of his massive sword meant to crush and maim. But Marcus was quicker, darting in and out like a shadow, his blade a blur of deadly efficiency. You could see the frustration growing on the gladiator’s face as his strikes met only empty air or the unforgiving steel of Marcus’s sword.
Every clash sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself gripping the edge of your seat, knuckles white with tension. The crowd around you roared, a cacophony of cheers and jeers, but their voices were distant echoes compared to the pounding of your heart. Marcus was holding his own, but the fight was far from over, and the outcome was anything but certain.
A sudden lunge from the gladiator brought the tip of his sword perilously close to Marcus’s chest. Your breath hitched, a gasp escaping your lips, but Marcus twisted at the last moment, the blade grazing his side instead of piercing his heart. A thin line of blood blossomed on his skin, a vivid contrast against the tan. The sight of it filled you with a surge of fear and anger, a primal urge to leap into the fray and shield him from harm.
But you were powerless, confined to the stands, a mere spectator to the deadly contest. All you could do was watch, your heart aching with every cut and bruise that marred Marcus’s flesh. He fought on, undeterred by the minor wounds, his resolve as unyielding as the steel in his hand. The gladiator, sensing weakness, pressed his advantage, his strikes growing more frantic and desperate.
Marcus parried a vicious overhead swing, the force of the blow reverberating up his arm. He sidestepped, his movements fluid and controlled, and countered with a swift slash across the gladiator’s arm. Blood sprayed from the wound, and the brute let out a bellow of pain, staggering back. The crowd’s roar reached a fever pitch, the tension in the air almost palpable.
Your eyes never left Marcus, every detail of the battle etched into your memory. You saw the sweat dripping from his brow, the determined set of his jaw, the slight tremor in his hand as he gripped his sword tighter. Despite the danger, there was a certain beauty in his movements, a deadly elegance that took your breath away.
The fight reached its climax in a blur of motion. Marcus feinted to the left, drawing the gladiator’s attention, then pivoted and delivered a powerful upward thrust. His sword pierced the gladiator’s chest, driving deep into flesh and bone. The brute’s eyes widened in shock, a gurgling sound escaping his lips as he crumpled to the ground.
For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Marcus stood over his fallen opponent, chest heaving, blood and sweat mingling on his skin. The crowd erupted in a deafening cheer, the sound washing over you like a wave. Relief flooded your body, your legs feeling weak as the tension finally broke. Marcus had won, with only minor cuts and bruises to show for it.
He turned towards you, his eyes finding yours in the throng of spectators. There was a faint smile on his lips, a silent reassurance that he was okay. Tears welled in your eyes, a mix of joy and relief, and you found yourself smiling back, a bond of unspoken understanding passing between you.
From the dais, the Emperors Geta and Caracalla watched with keen interest. Geta, his eyes gleaming with approval, leaned towards his brother. "A fierce husband indeed," he remarked, his voice carrying a note of admiration. "Such skill and bravery are rare. He has proven his worth today."
Caracalla nodded, his gaze fixed on Marcus. "Strength tempered with wisdom. He fights not just with his body, but with his mind. A formidable warrior."
You smiled at their comments, bowing your head slightly in acknowledgment. But your attention was already shifting, drawn inexorably to the entrance of the arena where Marcus was now standing. He was clutching his side, his face pale and contorted with pain. The sight sent a jolt of fear through your heart, and all thoughts of the emperors' praise vanished.
Without hesitation, you made your way down from the stands, pushing through the throng of spectators. Your only concern was reaching Marcus, your mind a whirlwind of worry and determination. As you neared him, you could see the blood seeping through his fingers, the wound on his side more serious than it had first appeared.
"Marcus!" you called out, your voice trembling with a mix of panic and urgency. He looked up at you, his eyes softening despite the pain etched on his face. You reached his side, gently taking his arm to support him.
"We need to get you cleaned up," you said, your voice firm despite the fear gnawing at your insides. "Come on, let's get to the baths."
With your help, Marcus managed to walk, though his steps were unsteady. The journey to the baths felt like an eternity, every moment filled with silent prayers that his injuries were not as severe as they seemed. The noise of the arena faded into the background, replaced by the rhythmic sound of water cascading into the stone basins of the bathhouse.
Once inside, you guided Marcus to a bench, your hands shaking as you began to remove his armor. Each piece fell away with a metallic clang, exposing the blood and sweat-soaked tunic beneath. The sight of the wound, a deep gash along his side, made your stomach churn, but you forced yourself to remain composed.
"Sit still," you instructed, your voice gentle yet commanding.
Marcus winced but managed a weary smile. "It's not as bad as it looks," he said, his voice strained but attempting to be reassuring. "Just a cut. It'll heal."
You shot him a stern look, not fooled by his bravado. "You need to let me clean and bandage it properly. No arguments."
He sighed, nodding slightly. "Alright, alright. But I promise, it's not a big deal."
You retrieved a basin of warm water and a cloth, kneeling beside him. The water steamed in the cool air of the bathhouse, the scent of the herbs you had added calming your frayed nerves. You began to clean the wound, your touch as gentle as possible.
Marcus hissed in pain, his muscles tensing under your hands. "I've had worse, you know," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "Remember that time with the boar?"
You couldn't help but smile at the memory, despite the current circumstances. "Yes, and I remember you saying the same thing then too. 'Just a scratch,' you called it, when it nearly took your leg off."
"Well, this time I mean it," he replied, though his attempt at humor was undermined by another wince of pain.
You shook your head, focused on your task. The wound was deep, but thankfully it had missed any vital organs. As you worked, you noticed the fabric of his tunic was too blood-soaked to use as a bandage. You looked down at your own dress, the hem already stained from kneeling on the wet floor.
Without hesitation, you tore a strip from your dress, the sound of ripping fabric startling Marcus. He looked down, his eyes widening in concern. "You didn't have to do that."
"I'll sew it back later," you said dismissively. "Right now, you need this more than I do."
He watched you as you wrapped the strip of fabric around his torso, securing it tightly to staunch the bleeding. Your fingers worked quickly and efficiently, but you could feel his gaze on you, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, something unspoken.
"Thank you," he murmured, his voice soft. "For everything."
You leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Just promise me you'll be more careful next time," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.
"I promise," Marcus replied, his eyes closing as he leaned back against the bench, exhaustion overtaking him.
You finished bandaging his wound, then dipped the cloth back into the warm water to wipe away the remaining blood and sweat. As you worked, the reality of what had just happened began to sink in, the fear and relief mixing into a potent cocktail of emotions.
Gently, you started cleaning Marcus's upper body, your hands moving over the hard planes of his chest and shoulders. His muscles were defined, a testament to the countless hours he had spent training and fighting. Each scar you encountered told a story, a silent testament to the battles he had survived. Your fingers traced the ridges and valleys of his skin, lingering on the old wounds that had healed over time.
Marcus watched you, his gaze intense and unwavering. "You always take such good care of me," he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection.
"It's because I love you," you replied softly, continuing to wash away the grime of the arena. "I can't stand seeing you hurt."
As you moved the cloth across his chest, you couldn't help but marvel at his strength and resilience. Despite the wounds and the exhaustion, he was still the man you had fallen in love with, still the warrior who had captured your heart.
Your eyes met his, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The world outside the bathhouse ceased to exist, leaving just the two of you in this intimate space. The intensity of his gaze made your heart race, and you felt a warmth spread through your body that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water.
Without breaking eye contact, Marcus reached out and gently took your hand, pulling you closer. "Come here," he whispered, his voice husky with desire.
You hesitated for a moment, the propriety of the situation briefly crossing your mind. But the longing in his eyes and the way he looked at you erased any doubts. You allowed him to guide you onto his lap, your body pressed against his as his arms encircled your waist.
Marcus leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, and you melted into his embrace, your hands resting on his shoulders. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more passionate, as if he was trying to convey all the emotions he couldn't put into words.
Just as you were about to lose yourself completely in the moment, a roar of people from the arena outside broke through the haze. You pulled back, breathless and flushed. "We could get caught," you whispered, your voice tinged with both excitement and caution.
Marcus smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "They're more focused on the battle," he said, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. "No one's paying attention to us."
His words made sense, but the risk still lingered in your mind. Yet the way he looked at you, the way he held you, made it hard to resist. You leaned in again, your lips finding his in another searing kiss. This time, you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment, the world outside fading into oblivion.
Marcus's hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, strong and steady despite everything he had been through. The warmth of his skin, the taste of his lips, the feel of his hands on your body—it was intoxicating, a heady mix of desire and love that left you breathless.
"Marcus," you murmured against his lips, your voice a mixture of longing and need.
He responded by pulling you even closer, his hands sliding down to your hips. "I need you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "Now."
The urgency in his words mirrored your own feelings, and you surrendered to the moment, your worries about being caught dissipating in the heat of your desire. You kissed him again, pouring all your love and passion into that single, searing touch.
Just as the kiss reached its peak, another roar from the arena reminded you of the world outside. With a reluctant sigh, you pulled back, resting your forehead against his. "We really should be careful," you said, trying to catch your breath.
Marcus nodded, his eyes still filled with that burning intensity. "I know," he said, his voice softening. "But I couldn't help it. I needed to feel close to you."
You covered his mouth with your hand, silencing him. The action made his semi-hard cock become fully erect beneath you, the sensation unmistakable. "I'll do the work," you said, lifting the fabric of your tunic and grinding into his hardness. "Sit back and relax."
A moan escaped your lips as the friction between your bodies grew, the rough fabric of his tunic adding to the slickness between your thighs. Marcus grabbed your hips with his large, calloused hands, his fingers digging into your flesh as he watched you with those big, pleading eyes.
"I love this..." he murmured, taking in the sight of you. "But we don't want to get caught."
You nodded swiftly, your breath hitching with anticipation. Moving his tunic out of the way, you exposed his throbbing cock. You spit into your hand, rubbing it onto his length, mixing your saliva with the precum that was already leaking from his tip. The heat of his flesh under your palm made your pulse quicken.
Straddling him, you guided his cock to your entrance, the stretch making your head fall back as his hips met yours. A deep groan left Marcus's lips, the sound vibrating through you. Wasting no time, you began to rock your hips back and forth, starting at a teasingly slow pace to build up the pleasure for both of you.
Your hand gripped his shoulder for support as you moaned, the other hand bracing on his knee. With the extra stability, you started to bounce on his cock, testing different angles until you found that perfect, spongy spot inside you. Marcus had always been adept at finding it, and now you wasted no time in exploiting it.
Faster and faster you moved, the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you becoming almost euphoric. "I'm gonna cum," you panted, your voice trembling with the intensity of your impending orgasm.
Marcus's hips began to thrust up to meet yours, his own climax approaching. "Me too," he groaned, his voice rough with need.
You moved your hand to his other leg, bouncing harder and harder, driven by the twin desires of pleasure and the fear of being caught. As your hips met his with each thrust, the friction and the slickness between your bodies brought you both closer to the edge.
With a final, deep thrust, Marcus's orgasm crashed over him. He growled, pushing his hips as far into you as possible, filling you with his warmth. The sensation sent you spiraling into your own release, your body tensing and then shuddering with the force of your climax.
Marcus pulled you into his arms, his breath still ragged. "We really shouldn't be doing this here," he murmured, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.
You stayed like that for a moment, both of you catching your breath, your bodies still intimately connected. Slowly, you lifted yourself off him, feeling the absence of his warmth inside you as you settled beside him.
You laughed softly, resting your head against his chest. "Probably not," you agreed. "But it was worth it."
He kissed the top of your head, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. "Always worth it," he echoed, the love and desire in his voice making your heart swell.
#marcus acacius#gladiator 2#pedro pascal#marcus acacius x reader#marcus acacius x you#marcus acacius x y/n#marcus acacius x female reader#smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal characters#ancient rome#gladiator#general acacius#general marcus acacius#general acacius x reader#general acacius x you#general acacius x y/n#female reader#pedrohub#sinfulmindjoyfulthoughts#pedro pascal smut
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Like a Queen [Loki x Reader]
A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Just a dirty, praise-filled railing. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Loki x Female Reader. Mirrors. Language. Established relationship. Smut. (w/c 1.2k)
"Urgh, gods..." Loki slurs as his head falls back.
A year. It's been a year. But every time you see that face lost in the pleasure only you can give it's like the first time. In the mirror at the foot of the bed, the hard angles of Loki's jawline set like an anvil. He tips his chin to the ceiling and sinks so deep, so slow, it's like he never wants it to end.
Your best lingerie clings to damp skin, the modest slit in your crotchless panties tugging against Loki's thick cock. Slow, liquid thrusts slip against your walls and slurp when he circles his hips; hands guiding your ass against him. He teases himself at the entrance while you moan his name before easing back in with a groan.
"What did I do..." he breathes as his sex-drunk face falls forward and he meets your eyes in the mirror. "What did I do to deserve this sweet, perfect cunt?"
You clench your fingers against the bedsheets, swaying on all-fours. Loki slips his cock from your pussy and slides it against your throbbing clit, still swollen and humming from the worship of his mouth.
He watches with dark fascination as you start to squirm at the halt of his movements, knuckles whitening. “Well?” he asks again with playful menace.
"I'm just made for you I guess," you sigh as his large palm skates down the ridges of your spine, settling at the base. There’s no getting any sense out of you at times like this; he should know that by now. And he does.
"You are,” he growls approvingly, rubbing the curve of your ass. “Made to take me like a Queen. Made to take my cock like a Queen; made to fuck me like a Queen.” Queen.
The word sends a thrill down your spine that blossoms new fire in your pussy and you clench tighter around the tip of his cock. Loki pushes back in just when you’re tightest. “Norns,” he gasps, half-lidded eyes smouldering down from his station.
There’s something about when he fucks you from behind that’s utterly primal. Like he’s mating you. Like you’re a bitch in heat and he’s powerless to resist the scent he craves; the urge beating through him like the drums of war.
He’s not a god in moments like this. He’s just a man that wants to shake you up and fuck you out and love you harder with every filthy, curse-laden groan from his throat. “Talk to me,” you plead as you sit back against him, inhaling the fresh sweat clinging to his hair, his cock never leaving the grip of your cunt. Where he belongs. Your fingers skate up his cheek. His heartbeat thumps between your shoulder-blades, the flat planes of his chest and stomach pressed tight to your back. Your thighs spread as he readjusts on the mattress, guiding you down to the root of him with a rumble of pleasure. Loki moves hair from one side of your neck, placing a messy kiss on the curve and pulling the flimsy strap of your lingerie between his teeth. It stings your heated skin with a tight thwack.
“You love when I talk,” he goads low and filthy in your ear. “You love when I talk, and you love when I fuck.” “Only me,” you whine. Loki chuckles darkly. “Only you, my Queen.” His thrusts make your body rise and you lose yourself in the fullness of your walls fluttering to the rhythmic lilt of his hips. Loki’s hands massage your breasts, palming upwards, pinching your pebbled nipples as he does it. “No one,” he groans as you reach between your legs and graze his balls, “no one has ever carnally eviscerated me like you can.” They tighten beneath your gentle touch, drawing lazily against the velvet skin.
“When I fuck you… all realms cease to be,' he chokes, 'Only b-burning worlds and…f-fuck, erupting galaxies when I…”
He jolts against your ass, a hiss searing between his teeth. “When I see you trussed up for me like a gift,” he pants, tugging at the flimsy lace cupping your breasts, “when I feel your pussy grip me like wax on a finger.” A wet groan erupts from your mouth into his and Loki’s fingers move to your clit, rubbing slow, wet circles just the way you like it. His kiss is hungry and dark and dangerously loving. He still tastes like your cum. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he mutters as climax tightens in your belly, tensing your thighs, “is your face when you come undone for me.” You whimper, the hand wrapped around his neck clutching at long waves of his sex-damp hair. “Yes, my beautiful queen,” he praises, unable to keep the tremble of impending orgasm from his voice as his thrusts become heavy. “Take me, use me; use my cock like no other in the nine realms can. Give me what I need.” “Not yet,” you beg and he smiles against your cheek. The mirror shows what the two of you are: sweaty and unbearably perfect together. He’s huge behind you; a colossus of muscle and lean lines and luminous skin. His dark hair hangs against your shoulders, his exquisite profile nuzzling into your neck. The god of mischief works one expert hand between your legs, the other grasping against your chest like you might vanish as his powerful thighs pump slowly beneath you. Obsessed. He’s obsessed. Another threat of orgasm rises in your centre. Loki groans loudly and his shoulders tense as you clench, feeling the thick vein running down his length throb. “I think you may take me a little too well,” he chokes as your grip on his hair tightens.
A series of feral grunts burst from Loki’s throat at the smallest increase of speed against his cock. He's ready to burst. Wetness coats the inside of your thighs, his knuckles, his mouth, your fingers. You cover the hand working against your clit, feeling his fingers while they lightly strum you over the edge. He knows your body like it's his own. “Loki,” you moan like a whore, head falling back to his shoulder. “I’m yours,” he whispers, breath catching. The hand cupping your chest flies to your stomach and he pulls you closer with a stuttering gasp. The flat of his abdomen curls to your back: sweat sticking, curses thundering, stars bursting in front of your eyes. He erupts with a long, guttural groan that shakes the bed. The swell of his cum is immediate; squeezing against the tight throb of his mighty cock and the final, fluttering spasms of your cunt. You see it glistening in the mirror, dripping down the thick root still buried inside you and pearling at the curve of his balls. Loki’s mouth fastens to your cheek like he’s trying to eat you - and maybe he is. His pants are hot against the skin as he slides down your face, top lip dragging before his forehead comes to rest. “What did I do to deserve…?” he pants quietly as he feathers weak kisses along the angle of your jaw. You silence the impending question with a kiss, pulling him closer. “I’m your Queen,” you say with utterly feigned humility. Loki bites his lip, glancing to the mirror. His eyes drop to the sight of him still sheathed deep in your pussy, a thick spindle of cum dangling to the mattress. “You are,” he whispers lovingly in your ear, eyes nailed to yours in the reflection. "Always."
♥️x
#loki x reader#loki smut#loki x female reader smut#loki x female reader#loki x you#loki x you smut#loki x reader smut#lokismut#loki fanfiction#loki fanfic#loki laufeyson#loki laufesyon x reader#loki odison x reader#loki imagine#loki x yn#loki x y/n
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An Arrangement
Summary: You’re a princess taken from your home planet and forced to marry Darth Vader. Turns out life on the Death Star isn’t as bad as everyone makes out. Based on the prompt shared with @luminoustarlight !
Content warnings: p in v sex, degradation, sub dynamics, begging, some violence, slow burn smut
WC: 9.3k
You stare out the grand palatial window in the coronation room, passively observing the flames swallowing the city of your home planet Onderon. Unintelligible screams flood the background, soon mercilessly silenced by the thuds and cracks of brusquely operated laser guns.
So this is how you were to meet your end: powerless at the mercy of the imperial army. You’d been trained for such a scenario before and you always carried a vial of poison in the event of capture; you’d rather die than be made to serve the Empire’s twisted interests.
“Princess, you need to take cover, follow my men into the vault below!” Your faithful attendant, Silas called out in panic.
“No, Silas. I will not cower in the basement waiting for them to breach our walls. I will remain here and eagerly await them.”
“But Your Grace-!”
“Enough.” You bark back. “It’s over. You have been discharged from duty, run while you still can. Thank you for all your years of service, I pray that our paths might cross again in another life.” You turn from him, tears flowing down your stiffeningly cold cheeks.
“May the Maker keep and protect you, Princess. You are our only hope.” He replies solemnly, before fleeing through the stony back passage of the palace.
You chuckle mirthlessly at the futility of his words and reach into your bosom where the corset of your gown has a sewn-in compartment. You extract the compact glass ampule of viper venom, so toxic that one drop is enough to send you into an eternal sleep, and fiddle with the intricate bottle for a few moments. With a heavy sigh, you tuck it under your sleeve; you decided you wanted to gaze into the eyes of your captors before you bid farewell to life.
With a resounding crash, the barricaded gate before you falls and the imperial army- donning armour plastered in dust and foreign blood- swarm into the great hall of the palace. You force the knot in your throat down with a gulp and turn on your heel to face the brutes responsible for the massacre of your people.
“Ah Princess, excellent. We thought you’d be grovelling underground with your father but you’ve just made our job a whole lot easier.” A masked figure that you presume is the Commander of the battalion addresses you. “Grab her. But keep her alive, she’s got a special purpose to fulfil.”
Hearing the ominous plans they have in store for you, you rush to reach for the poison in your sleeve but are hindered by the stampede of soldiers hurtling at you, slapping the vial out of your hand and shattering it all over the nitid marble floor.
‘Ah, ah, ah. Don’t even think about it.” The unnaturally deep voice of the commander booms. “You’ve been specially requested at the behest of the Emperor.” Dread consumes you as you’re roughly cuffed and dragged out of the safety of your childhood home. The soldiers marching comes to a sudden halt and you’re made to turn around and stare at the palace, a deadly silence hanging in the air.
“Burn it.”
Triggered by the commander’s words, a roaring blaze fulminates, the building being crushed in an instant by the force of the explosion. All you can see is the reflection of smouldering flickers through the thick veil of tears filling your eyes.
The commander smugly trudges over to you, sharply inhaling. “Ah, there’s nothing better than the smell of a coward’s smouldering corpse.” He hisses, words dripping with venom. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Your heart burned at the injustice, at the innocent civilians decimated- but you couldn’t fool yourself into pretending that scorn extended to your dearly departed father.
Refusing to reply to his provocation with anything other than an expectorated glob of spit aimed at his helmet, he takes the barrel of his gun and pummels it with brute force against your temple. You’re instantly rendered unconscious and your limp body is packed into the nearest starfighter, chained up and ready to make the journey from Onderon to the Death Star.
The first thing you do as you’re rudely awoken is cradle your aching head- a wave of nausea overtaking you and the electric pain behind your eyes knocking the air out of your lungs.
“Rise ’n shine, Onderon whore.” One of the soldiers grabbing you by the elbow spat and you stumbled to your feet like a newborn foal. After being dragged through a fortified steel tunnel, you were harshly thrown to the floor in a cold control room before two cloaked men, one of whom wore black combat boots- no doubt robust and heavy enough to crack open a skull. The light in the battle station glowed painfully bright and you lifted your head as best you could to observe the squabbling figures through squinted eyes.
“Here she is, my young Lord. I think she’ll do nicely, yes?” The ominously raspy voice croaked and you knew at once it was none other than Emperor Sheev Palpatine.
“She’s shivering.” The monotonous voice of the other cloaked figure stated callously and only then did you notice how your body was trembling- whether it was from the cold or the fear, you weren’t sure.
“You’ll have plenty of opportunity to warm her up on your wedding night.” He cackles wickedly but is met with silence from the man opposite him. The last thing you remember before it all went black was the light reflecting off of the quiet man’s helmet, and wondering what might be lurking underneath.
“Tskk poor thing, look at this cut on your head.” You flutter your eyes open to see a woman in a billowed white cloak tutting and fussing over you. “Good morning, princess.”
“Who are you?” You scowl, trying to get up and immediately being knocked back down by the overwhelming pain.
“Whoa, easy now! Nice ’n slow.” The woman puts her arm around your waist and helps you to sit up. “I’m Sabe, a royal handmaiden. Your handmaiden, to be exact.”
“Where am I?” You croak, uncertain you wanted to know.
“You’re on the Death Star, ma’am.”
Bile rises in your throat at the realisation that none of it was a dream- your recollection of the last 24 hours starts flooding in and your chest seizes in panic. The fire, the cloaked men, the people in the vault.
“You’re all right, just breathe. No harm is going to come to you. He’s made sure of that.” Sabe spouts and your head snaps at her.
“He?”
“Oh yes, Lord Vader gave orders for your protection. Under penalty of death. If you ask me, he just needs a woman’s touch to soften him up and he’d finally succeed in shaking that leech of an emperor off. Suppose that’s where you come in!”
“Me?” You screech, wondering when you’d say something not in the form of a question.
“Oh, you poor thing, you don’t know…the Emperor is arranging a wedding between his young protegee and a princess from a seized planet. The princess being you, if that’s not clear.” She continued chattering incessantly.
“Yes, I got that.” You snap. “And when is this supposed union meant to be taking place?”
“Tonight.”
You choose to remain quiet, rather than parroting back her last word in the form of yet another question.
After your handmaiden assists in bathing and dressing you in clean robes, you still can’t seem to escape the dull throbbing of the headache that permeates every cell of your body, leaving you in persistent agony. You beg Sabe to find something to help, knowing that you yourself weren’t allowed to leave the confines of the east wing. Stepping out onto the enclosed observatory space by your chambers, you stare out into the stars surrounding the vessel. You wished you could break beyond the thick glass enclave and just glide away, joining the stars and freeing yourself from the pain.
“Who hurt you?” A raspy voice questions and you turn around to the sight of Lord Vader, enveloped in his armour and mask.
“Uh, whoever the commander of the battalion was.” You reply, startled.
“He will be dealt with. Now come here.” He reaches his gloved hand out, signalling for you to grab it. With a great deal of uncertainty, you approached him, timidly giving him your hand. He takes it into his palm and holds it firmly to his chest. As if some force had siphoned the contusions and swelling out of you, you felt your agony slowly subside- until there was nothing at all in its wake.
“H-how did you do that?” You took a step back from him, holding your fingers up to your temple in disbelief. You’d heard of force healing before but assumed it was either a myth or a nearly lost practice only wielded by the most masterly of Jedi.
“Go back to your chambers and rest. You have a long ordeal ahead of you.” He leaves your question unanswered and marches out of the observatory as quickly as he entered it.
You’re compelled to follow his commands so you retreat to your chambers, forcing yourself to drink the healing tea Sabe concocted after having decided it was easier than explaining the bizarre experience you’d had. That was the dark Sith Lord that struck terror into the hearts of everyone who faced him? Ruthless, soulless, devoid of all human compassion- and channelling force healing to ease your headache? You spent all afternoon writhing in confusion, all the way up until a neatly packaged box was left on the doorstep of your assigned room. Upon closer inspection, the box contained an intricate white lace dress, paired with a beaded, scallop hemmed headpiece. A wedding outfit.
Standing at the forefront of the cold metallic arena, you twiddled with the sleeves on your dress- the material itching terribly and making your skin crawl. In a way, you were glad to have something occupy your mind beyond the impending prospect of marrying a Sith brute. You wondered why he wore that clunky helmet- is he so hideously deformed he has to hide behind it lest people faint at the sight?
A frightened-looking man you can only assume is the officiator of this sham of a wedding is escorted through the heavily guarded gates and takes his place before you, not daring to make eye contact. Your body fills with dread at the familiar sound of heavy boots dragging along the steel plates of the floor. He doesn’t spare you a passing glance for even a moment, despite your stubborn resolution to face him for the entirety of the ceremony- you wanted to look deep into the supposedly merciless eyes of your new husband. There aren’t any vows, there’s no exchange of rings, no kiss to celebrate the union- just some legal jargon and a couple of witnesses. Although you can’t see him, you can feel Palpatine’s snake eyes burning into you, no doubt observing from another room to ensure his mysterious plan came to fruition.
“Follow me.” A stormtrooper orders you and begins to head back in the direction of your chambers. Confused, you allow him to escort you out of the hall as you see a cloaked figure approach Lord Vader out of the corner of your eye. You just about hear the Emperor’s gravelly voice hiss out the word “consummate” before the doors shut behind you and you’re carried away to the bedroom. For some reason, the thought of sex hadn’t crossed your mind- you assumed villains like him had interests that surpassed such blunt mortal affairs - but now standing in front of your 4-poster bed, waiting for the sound of his heavy footsteps again, reality sunk in. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat and lay on the bed, removing the first layer of your dress and remaining in a white negligee. “Just lie back and think of Onderon.” You thought.
Your whole body tensed as you observed him enter your joint chambers, completely walking past you and going to the connecting bathroom, door left ajar.
“I’m ready, Lord Vader.” You stiffly announce, hoping to get it over with as soon as possible.
Hearing your words, he peers out of the doorway and although you can’t see his face, his body language seems perplexed.
“What are you doing?” He remarks accusingly.
“I-I’m…waiting for you to consummate our marriage. Like Palpatine wishes.” He scoffs at your comment- laughs even- and goes back into the bathroom.
“I will do nothing of the sort.” You hear him say.
Sitting up on the bed and dragging the covers over your exposed body, you’re bewildered.
“Oh, c-can Sith Lords not…?” You stutter, searching for an explanation.
“I assure you I’m perfectly capable.” He snaps back. “I just have no desire for the task.”
Although relief floods your body, you feel slightly offended at the presumption that lovemaking with you should be a task.
Just then, you hear a steamy hissing sound, followed by a loud thud. The figure emerges, back facing you without his layers of armour- donning a simple black shirt and black trousers. He wanders over to the window at the far end of the room, staring out into space.
“I’m sorry about your father.” He grunts after a while and you finally hear his voice- free from robotic static, with no menacing growl - just him, and it sounds beautiful.
“Don’t be.” You say sincerely, fixated on the back of his head. You notice he has dark blonde curls, gathering in tufts at the nape of his neck. “Come on, turn around.” You think, bracing yourself for what you might find.
“Alright, if you insist.” He remarks and you scowl in confusion- you didn’t say that out loud, did you?
He pivots round to face you and you feel as though someone has knocked the air from your lungs: he glares at you with mesmerising cobalt-blue eyes, embellished by abundantly thick lashes and even thicker eyebrows sitting atop his handsomely chiselled face. His cheekbones stand at attention, enhanced by his sculpted jawline, which works in perfect harmony with the rest of his body- even his collarbones are perfect. He’s full of sprightly vigour, he’s young even. You are floored and contemplate how anyone could hide such a face away in that clunky helmet.
“Not what you were expecting, huh?” He speaks, sensing the utter shock his appearance has inflicted on you.
“You…you’re-” You stutter.
“Not hideously deformed?”
“-beautiful.”
He raises his bushy eyebrows disapprovingly and you scold yourself for being so forthright. He may be devilishly handsome, but that doesn’t mean you can swoon over him. He’s a monster, remember? Sure, he has the most seductive pair of lips you’d ever seen on a man - all plump and the perfect shade of pink- and sure, he’s sparked a desire within you that you don’t think you’d ever felt before but…where were you going with this?
“I’m going to sleep in the adjoining room, you can take my chambers.” You’re snapped out of your dreamy haze by his velvety voice as he begins to walk away.
“Wait! Y-you don’t have to, I’m sure the bed is uncomfortable over there.”
“No, it’s perfectly fine.” He continues marching away.
“Wait! The bed here is more than big enough for the both of us, we wouldn’t even touch.” You stumble over your words, melting under the scrutiny of his gaze.
“Do you want me to sleep with you, Princess?” His movement comes to a halt and you’re rendered speechless. “Because that really would be something. Captured and brutalised after all that you hold dear is set alight, forced to marry a servant of evil- and then you request his company in your bed? That would be deranged. You’re not deranged now, are you Princess?”
Your mouth goes dry at the snarky way in which he’s talking to you- you admit it sounds mad out loud but the situation is more complicated than he thinks.
“N-no.” You mutter, barely above a whisper.
“Good, I wouldn’t want to find out I’ve married damaged goods.” He remarks impertinently. “I’m retiring for the evening- and I am not to be disturbed.” With that, he slams the door between you shut and you slide down your headboard, consumed by embarrassment, shame, desire. His dastardly good looks have really thrown a spanner into the works.
You barely managed to get any sleep that night, much like every night the week following the wedding. Your dreams were plagued by visions- of your father, of your captors, of your husband. Before your seizure, you already knew your future would hold a forced marriage; although an even less desirable one. Your father had plans to marry you off to your cousin, a brainless specimen by the name of Fester who was too dim-witted to even realise he was being used as a pawn in the family’s bloodline feud.
Despite your many attempts to plead and beg your way out of this union, your father dismissed you entirely- even going so far as to sanction you to the confines of your stuffy quarters, striking you remorselessly when you defied his orders.
You’d spent a lifetime dreamily peering out of your windows, waiting to be liberated by a saviour that never came- at least not in the way you thought.
Lord Vader was never present, aside from a very brief juncture in the evenings, when he would pass through your chambers on the way to his bedroom. You tried to make conversation but he either stared at you with dead, unamused eyes or flat-out ignored you. Asking him what he did during his working hours was not one of the things you tried to speak about- much preferring to stay in ignorant bliss- and he was more than happy to not be at the receiving end of your questions for once.
Growing increasingly tired of questioning your purpose on this wretched behemoth of a ship, you took the liberty of posting yourself outside his bedroom that night, waiting to block his exit until he at least acknowledged your existence. You’re ashamed to admit that you selected your nightwear especially for him- tonight choosing to wear the thinnest of slip dresses in the pathetic hopes that he might be drawn in by your pert chest.
As is routine, you hear the doors to your chambers swing open and are greeted with the welcome sight of the young Lord, who strides over to you intimidatingly. Removing his helmet and towering before you, you gulp at not just the height difference- but the sheer broadness of his shoulders compared to your slender ones.
“Move.” He states, glaring at you unaffectedly.
“No. I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” You stubbornly huff and you think you spot a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“You don’t give the orders around here, Princess.” He asserts as he lifts you up by the waist with ease and drops you out of his way like you were a meagre traffic obstruction. You’re filled with disbelief as he enters his room, shutting the door in your face. “At least he didn’t slam it tonight.” You ponder.
Slouching down the door defeatedly, you pout as you hear him undress, desperately in need of an explanation.
“Please.” You plead pitiably, not expecting him to hear you.
You almost fall to the floor as your backrest swings open, and you lift your head to see him, sighing above you.
“What is it?”
“I-I just wanna know some things.” You mutter, cradling your knees on the floor.
“Then talk.” He taps his foot impatiently.
“Well uh- for starters, why am I here?” You rise from the floor to face him. “Why did Palpatine want you to marry me?”
“He wants me to sire a son- to ensure his plans can be carried out should I be otherwise indisposed.” He looks away coldly.
“I don’t understa-“
“Palpatine will live into his 200s. I am only human. If I am killed, he wants another apprentice to bend to his will, one just as strong with the force.”
“So why haven’t you attempted to do any siring yet?” He looks at you with a look of intense shock, disgust even. Of all the things he’s said, you take issue with his lack of action in the bedroom.
“I refuse to participate in this charade. He’ll see that you’re barren after a while- and we’ll dispose of you accordingly.”
“But I’m not barren.” You interject, dismissing the latter part of his sentence.
“It would be in your best interests to pretend you are.” You’re beguiled by his smooth voice and find yourself yearning to hear it all night. “I’ve brought someone to keep you company, hopefully with them in attendance you’ll be less inclined to seek my attention.”
“Another handmaiden? Ah, spare me- the current one is more than irritating enough on her own.” You shudder at the thought of 2 Sabes, prattling in your ear all day.
“No, I’ve ordered for the capture of your former attendant. I believe you were quite fond of him- Silas, is it?”
Your heart seizes, he’s alive? More importantly, he’s being brought to you? You stare at the scowling face of your husband, who looks afraid you might try to do something overly affectionate.
“A purely self-indulgent measure. To prevent any future ambushes like the one tonight.” He backtracks, attempting to impose some distance but you disregard it entirely. “If that’s not enough to keep you occupied, you can also have access to my private library - Silas will be waiting for you there tomorrow.”
“Thank you, my Lord,” You whisper, throwing caution to the wind and wrapping your arms against his waist, face snugly pressed into his firm chest. You feel him tense up at the intrusion, but he relaxes ever so slightly with an exhale, hovering his arms above your own- careful not to let them touch lest he give you the impression he’s embracing you back.
“Call me Anakin.” He mumbles softly.
You wake up the next day, your chest feeling lighter than it has in years. Bounding out of bed, you instil deep confusion in Sabe, who enters your room with fresh clothes.
“Having a good morning?” She asks.
“I think actually, yes. Yes, I am.” You reply resolutely, allowing her to dress you without your usual complaints as she tightens your corset.
“Might this have anything to do with Lord Vader?” She raises an eyebrow, consumed with curiosity.
“Perhaps. Or perhaps I see that my new life might not be so bad after all. I believe I have someone waiting for me, you’re dismissed for now, Sabe.” You waltz out of your chambers to the library that Anakin mentioned you were granted entrance to.
You enter the room and stare in wonder at the rows upon rows of polished shelves, furnished with all kinds of large, leather-bound books. Among the volumes of publications is a tall, spindly man- standing with his back turned.
“Silas!” You cry out and dart towards him, colliding against him in a tight embrace.
“Princess! Let me look at you, are you hurt?” He grabs your face, inspecting it for any cuts or bruises.
“No, no I’m perfectly fine!” You smile.
“How could you possibly be fine? I heard about the wedding- it’s a scandal, it’s a disgrace! The intergalactic senate will hear about this- I promise I will get you out!“
“Silas, it’s okay, I’m being treated well here.” Your reply sends him into a stunned silence.
“You’ve been married to a Sith Lord. A princess of the purest blood made to intermingle with the lap dog of the Emperor. I don’t even want to think about what you’ve been forced to do here to survive.” He shudders.
“I haven’t been made to do anything. And Anakin really isn’t that bad once you get to know him a little.”
“Anakin?” Silas almost breaks out in hives at what he’s hearing.
“Yeah, that’s his real name. And oh, Silas, he’s so handsome!” You clamber on, reading the titles off a nearby bookshelf and digging for something that might take your fancy.
“I don’t believe this. One week under captivity and you’ve been brainwashed already.” He takes his head into his hands.
“I haven’t been brainwashed.” You chuckle. “Anakin is the one who brought you here. Just for me. And he lets me have the nicest quarters on the ship- and I’m allowed private access to the whole library!” You gush.
“So he’s built you a very pleasant cage. Fantastic. Just because your prison has a nice interior doesn’t make it your home.”
“Well, it’s no less of a prison than Onderon was. At least in this one, my marriage isn’t incestuous.” Silas’s eyes widen beyond measure at the boldness of your statement and he takes a seat before he collapses.
“He used the force to heal me when I was in pain.”
“And what caused you to be hurt in the first place?” He snaps back accusingly.
“Silas, listen to me.” You kneel beside him, taking his hand into your own. “I’ve spent too many years worrying about the fate of my future, cursing the Maker for how little control I had over my own destiny. No more. I can only take life as it comes in small waves- I have relinquished control. This is my new home now.”
With a heavy sigh, Silas nods- looking away as if unable to process your revelation.
“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.” You say, mischievous twinkle in your eye.
The remainder of the day is spent flicking through various books, amassing a pile of them in your bedroom so high that you could barely see Sabe’s head poking through when she entered.
“Um, m’lady? If you won’t be requiring anything else for the night, can I retire? Silas and I were thinking of wandering down to the observatory by my quarters…”
“Of course, Sabe, enjoy.” You chuckle as she meekly smiles and exits your room. You knew they’d hit it off, one perennial chatterbox with another. Flicking through the last page of the first edition volume of The Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise, you hummed discontentedly. “What a terrible ending.” You thought as you inspected the piles on your floor for the second volume. You suspect you must’ve left it in the library when you were packing your books onto the trolley so you wrap a thin robe around yourself and march down the hall. You notice the lights already burning as you enter the library cautiously, peering your head through to see Anakin, sitting on an armchair and reading something out of a thick, metal-encased manual.
“What’s your book about?” You query as you approach him slowly.
“It’s a story about a very naughty princess who loves to go looking for trouble.” He sneers, lip curling up into the shadow of a smile.
“No, it’s not!” You titter as you pry over the bind, seeing various starfighter diagrams and mechanical cross-sections.
“What do you want now?” He shuts the book promptly.
“I just came to collect something I left behind.” You reply innocently.
“I trust you’re enjoying my collection, then.” He looks up at you for the first time and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of his dreamy eyes.
“Oh yes, it’s very impressive. I didn’t think Sith Lords read so much.”
“They don’t.” He gets up from his chair, sauntering over to a nearby shelf and picking out a specific book. “Try this, I think you’ll like it.” He throws the book in your direction and you catch it; observing the cover, you speculate it’s some kind of historical tale about a lost civilisation.
“Thank you, I’ll be sure to read it.” You tuck it under your arm. “Are you retiring for the night yet?”
“Yes, I’ll leave the library to you.” He gets up to leave but you stand in front of him.
“I was only here to get something, escort me back?” You ask and he looks you up and down before making a low grunting sound, something you can only assume is a sign of acceptance. He heads out the door and you follow, trailing behind him like a lost puppy.
“I never got to thank you.” You say as you enter your chambers, seizing the short moment you have to converse before he disappears into his bedroom.
“What could you possibly have to thank me for?” He rolls his eyes.
“For rescuing me.” You reach out to touch him by the arm but back down, courage failing you.
“You’ve lost your mind.”
“No, really. My circumstances back home were…less than ideal.” You stare down at your feet.
“I admit I find it peculiar that you don’t seem to be in mourning.” He notes, more intrigue in his tone than you’re used to.
“Would you be in mourning over a man who oppressed and rebuked you at every turn?”
“I see. I suppose that explains your…unorthodox behaviour.” For the very first time, he takes a seat on the chaise lounge by your bed- does he actually want to have this conversation with you?
“I guess you could say that. After he locked me up in the palace and forced me to accept my cousin’s betrothal, I abandoned all hope for the future and resigned myself to perpetual misery. And then you came along.” He squints his eyes, looking almost frustrated with your positivity.
“Are you sure you understand the situation you’ve found yourself in? You’re aware you’ve been abducted- forced to spend every day locked up here, never to see your planet or familiars again? Forced to play wife to me?” He gawks incredulously.
“You’re not as bad as you make out.” You smile at him. “And you’re certainly very easy on the eyes.” You look for changes in his demeanour but it remains unaffected. “Would you have preferred it if I was terrified and unwilling to go near you?”
“Terrified? Of course not, the thought of it sickened me. Unwilling to go near me? I’m not sure I’d mind.” He states and you wonder if that was his way of making a joke. “I regret that you’ve been ensnared into this. I wish it could’ve been different.”
“I don’t.” You pluck up the courage to sit beside him, placing your hand on his leg. “I can see there’s goodness within you. It’s almost tangible in the way you treat me.”
“Clearly I’ve given you the wrong impression.” He mutters gruffly, visibly uncomfortable. “And you can stop wearing those little dresses around me. All you’re going to succeed in doing is get frostbite.” He pushes your hand off him.
“Do you find me that repulsive?” You question sharply, tired of being made to feel undesirable. “I’ve been told my looks rival that of some of the fairest Princesses in the galaxy. Is a man like yourself so completely cold to the affections of women?”
“I fail to see how that is relevant.” He dismisses.
“It’s relevant because I’m tired of my bed being cold. You chose to marry me, now act like a husband!”
“What choice? I had no choice!” He shouts back and your blood runs cold when he stands towering over you.
“That makes two of us. But I fail to see what good can come from sulking about it.” You lower your tone.
“You’re that desperate, huh?” He sneers condescendingly.
“So what if I am?” You throw caution to the wind, fully aware of the way you’re debasing yourself right now; after the breadcrumbs of affection he’d been giving you, you couldn’t take it anymore.
“Fine.” He says, making his way over to the bed, ripping off his shirt.
“W-what are you doing?” You murmur as he undresses and positions himself in the middle of your stately bed.
“I’m ready, Princess.” He mocks, parroting what you’d said to him on your wedding night. “You wanted to fuck me, right? Well here I am. At your royal disposal.”
“N-not like this.” You mutter, trying not to stare at his firm pecs or chiselled abdomen.
“What’s the matter? You’ve been prancing around in those little dresses all week, practically begging me to give you a scrap of my attention and now I’m in our marital bed, you’re too scared?”
“I’m not scared, I just don���t want to feel like I’m forcing myself on you.” You mutter quietly, drained of all confidence.
“You’re worried about all the wrong things. Palpatine told me to brutalise you to within an inch of your life, you know that? To take all my anger out on you and make you pay for the sins of your family. And you’re worried about whether you’re taking advantage of me. I fear I have been too soft. You seem to forget who you’re speaking to.”
“But you didn’t.” You sniffle.
“What?”
“But you didn’t do those things. You’re a good man, Anakin.” Your voice softens and you climb up the bed to join him, allowing your gaze to linger on the small line of blonde curling hair starting from his belly button, travelling down to what lay underneath his underwear.
“No. I haven’t quite lost all my humanity.” He breathes heavily, seemingly noticing your staring.
“Let me show you my appreciation.” You bit your lip and bravely met his intense gaze. He doesn’t respond, the only noticeable reaction being his eyes wandering down to your breasts, thin material doing little to conceal your pert nipples.
“Do you wish to see me?” You ask, fingers toying with the straps as he huffs slightly, acting as though this were beneath him- but still remaining silent. You shrug the material off, revealing your round, perky breasts to him. You think you can see something twitching in his boxers but you can’t be sure.
“Can I?” You ask, gesturing to sit on his lap but he remains speechless. “Please, my Lord, I need to hear you-“
“Yes.”
A grin spreads across your face as you mount him, completely bare. Putting your hands on his chest, you move your hips a little to feel him. Not that you were expecting any less for a man of his stature, but you felt yourself getting soaked at his formidable size; he was surely 8 inches, and just as satisfyingly thick. Your eyes fall to his pretty face and you’re overcome with the urge to kiss him all over. Reaching down to plant small kisses over his temple and cheeks, you feel him stiffen even more.
“What are you doing?” He grumbles.
“Shut up and kiss me.” You pant as you capture his lips in a soft kiss, brushing them against each other. You can feel him almost fighting the urge to hold you so you take the initiative and grab him by the jaw, kissing him deeply and passionately. You think you hear a moan slip out of his mouth but when you pull away, he’s still got the same cold expression on his beautiful face- brows slightly furrowed and lips pursed in disaffection.
“If you’re waiting for me to make a move, it’s not going to happen.” He sighs, looking fatigued. A quiet rage simmers within you. You’ve had suitors lining up at the palace gates since you were a teenager and now this glorified servant is behaving as though he is the prize. You craved the chance to teach him not to underestimate you, to make him see you were special. “On another occasion, perhaps.” You thought. Tonight, you just wanted to make him writhe beneath you.
“If you’re going to be making snarky comments all evening, I’m going to stuff my panties in your mouth to silence you.”
“What panties? You didn’t wear any.” He grins and your chest sets alight. However brief it was, it’s the first time you’ve seen a genuine smile. His teeth were pearly and straight, and his smile broad enough to reach across his whole face in a bright, radiant flash. You felt like your day had gotten better just by being witness to it.
“Why do you always do that?” He breaks your trance.
“Huh, do what?”
“Disassociate. You stare right through me when you do it.”
“M’sorry. I can’t help it.” You feel a fierce shyness overcome you.
“You find me that handsome?”
“Yes.” You whisper. You have no idea why you’re admitting to it.
“Is that why you don’t mind being married to me?” He continues and you’re confused by the volume of questions coming your way- it’s more than he’s talked to you all week.
“Partly.” He smirks a little at the ego boost and places his hands on the back of his neck, arm muscles flexing as they’re extended. You trail a line from the centre of his chest down to his abdomen with the tip of your index finger, stopping as you reach the band of his boxers. You look up at him and he raises an eyebrow at you, almost daring you to go further. Toying with the band for a little while, you steel yourself and pull them down in one prompt motion. You have to hold in a wince as you take it in- in all its thick, veiny glory. With a shuddery breath, you savour the view before you: his strong, toned arms trailed down to his athletic torso, v-line achingly defined and sloping down to his large, pink-tipped member. “Even his dick is pretty.” You mentally cursed. His smirking, confident simper never faltered, not feeling a fragment of insecurity for even a moment.
Knowing you weren’t going to get any warming up from him, you lifted your hips and angled yourself up, tip kissing your entrance. Maintaining eye contact, you slowly sunk down on him, lowering yourself gradually until your bare skin brushed against the curls around the base of his cock. He shuts his eyes for a moment and exhales lightly, pretty lips forming into a small o shape. You try to subdue the overwhelming feeling of being filled so deeply, not wanting to stroke his ego even more than you already have. You begin to move, riding him very slowly and focusing on his chest as it rises and falls, eyes watering at the sensation of being stretched out. Worrying that he’s going to question why you’re going so slow, you begin to speed up even though it aches.
“Slow down.” He speaks softly. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“As if you care.” You huff.
“Don’t get on my bad side, Princess.” He shoots you a deadly glance and you slow back down, knowing better than to disobey him. It takes you a good while to accommodate to his size, oo’s and aa’s escaping your mouth every time you straighten up and sink down on his cock a little too deeply- but after the adjustment period, you start to ride him confidently. Your tits bounce with a hypnotising jiggle as you smack the flesh of your ass against his thighs, wetness drenching you both. Noticing how his arms lay by his side, you grab him by the wrist and lay them on your hips. He grips onto them slightly for a moment, but quickly releases and lets them fall back down to his sides. You whine a little, starved of affection. You were bouncing on his cock yet you still felt like you weren’t close.
“Please?” You moan.
“You wanted this, not me. I said I’m not participating, didn’t I?” His voice rings out, completely unaffected while you were a panting mess.
“Don’t pretend like you’re not- ah- enjoying it. F-feels good, doesn’t it?” You stutter, feeling his tip prodding that spongy spot within you that threatens to be your undoing.
“It’s fine.” He replies, still refusing to engage in any meaningful way.
“Oh come on, Anakin! Give me something.” You feel like you’re one snarky comment away from resorting to begging.
“I’ve given you my cock. What more do you want out of me?”
“I want you to talk to me, I want you to touch me. To be present!”
“And I want for my wife to not be such a whore.” Your mouth gapes open at his harsh words, but you continue bouncing, getting too close to stop now. “I mean seriously, you’re being held hostage and all you can think about is getting fucked? There’s nothing in that little brain of yours other than visions of me fucking you, is there? I’ve seen them.”
You moan at his degrading words- if you weren’t so cock drunk, you might be ashamed of the way you’re allowing him to speak to you.
“Oh my God, are you gonna cum from me talking down to you? Does me calling you a stupid whore get you off?” He rambles and you can’t stop yourself from turning into a whimpering mess, moans spilling out at every turn and unintelligible groans flooding the room as you bounce on his cock.
He reaches up towards you and you think he might be pulling you in for a kiss but instead, he hooks his fingers into the corners of your mouth, stretching it out. You babble out disjointed syllables, too overwhelmed to establish a rhythm that isn’t completely sloppy.
“The fuck are you even saying right now?” He laughs and oh god, there’s that smile again- if his cock wasn’t enough, now his grin is making your legs feel like jelly.
“What are these dumb little sounds you’re spluttering out? You sound like an idiot.” The lewd squelching noises increase in intensity as you fall apart on top of him in a sudden climax- pleasure hitting you like a truck and nearly knocking you out. You pant on top of him, trying to catch your breath with your head resting on his chest. He clears his throat after a minute and you shuffle off him, laying your head on the nearby pillow instead.
“Wow. That was…did you not cum?” It occurs to you that you’d just used him for your own pleasure.
“Of course not.” He gruffly responds, legs still spread and cock exposed, glistening with your arousal. “I have self control.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask and he turns to face you.
“You’re like a bitch in heat. It’s not very princess-like of you.”
“Well, I’m not a princess anymore. I’m a Sith Lord’s wife.” You counter.
“Wives don’t ride like that.” You know he didn’t mean it as a compliment but you chose to take it as one anyway.
“Aren’t you going to cover up?” You point at his exposed body while you clutch the crisp white sheets around yourself.
“Why should I?” He snaps back and you’re taken aback by his show of confidence. And you certainly weren’t complaining.
“Yeah, I bet you aren’t.”
“Okay, you’ve got to stop doing that! It’s unnatural.” You complain.
“I don’t ordinarily pay such close attention to these things but your mind is so dirty.”
“Oh yeah? What have I been thinking about in the last couple minutes then?”
“You’ve been wondering how I’m both a shower and a grower, how you’ve never been so wet before - oh, and how you want to fuck me again.” Your cheeks redden at his painfully accurate observations- and you feel his vulgarity plant a renewed desire within you.
“Really, you want another round? Fine. Hop on.” He sighs, tapping his thigh. You stare at him affectionately with a smile as if to say “really?” and you clamber over him again. You only have to press your dripping body against him once and he quickly hardens again, tip oozing with precum. You waste no time impaling yourself, pussy swallowing him greedily- slightly sore but still stretched out enough to take him with ease.
“Anakin, please.” You mumble, reaching for his hands- needing to feel them on your skin.
“What do you want?” He replies breathily.
“Please, touch me.” You slide up and down his shaft, body racked with delirious pleasure. “Pleasepleaseplease - please Anakin!” He scoffs smilingly at how you’ve been reduced to a needy mess before he’s even put an ounce of effort in. “Do you want me to beg? I’ll get on my knees and beg- please, touch me just a little, please Ani-“
“Alright, alright, enough!” He stops you and you wince at his harsh tone, wishing that just for once, he’d be gentle with you.
“I’m sorry, it’s okay. I’m right here.” He reaches out and wraps his hands around your dainty waist, right arm gradually trailing up your body. His knuckles brush against your cheek tenderly before he wraps his strong hand around your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss. You squeak in shock at the unexpected affection as your breasts press against his chest, one hand squishing your soft flesh and the other wrapped up in your hair.
“Mmm, Ani.” You hum, your deepest craving finally quelled.
“No one’s called me that in a really long time.” He mumbles into the kiss, sliding both hands down to your ass cheeks and gripping them firmly.
“Is this what you wanted?” He asks as he slides you on and off him, commanding your movements with his strong grasp.
“Oh God yes, fuck Ani- ah.” You gasped as he began lifting his hips and fucking his cock into you, fingernails digging into your hips. “‘m not gonna last much longer if you keep go -oh, just like th- aah.”
“You don’t need to.” He whines, finally allowing himself to utter his own sweet sounds.
“Nuh uh, I-I want you to cum with me.” You whimper in his ear as you wrap your arms around his neck. Cradling you, he wraps one arm around your back and rests his other hand on the back of your head while drilling you with such vigour you almost black out.
“Shh, baby, shh- ’s okay.” He moans and your walls flutter at the heavenly sound. Try as you may, you can’t stop the drool that streams out of your mouth, fucked so dumb that you’re losing control over your senses.
“You’re close, can feel you gripping me.” He sputters, barely audible over the sound of your squeals. “You want the whole ship to hear you, huh?”
“I want them all to know who I belong to.” You manage to get out clearly, trying to get a handle on your faculties. Rising up from being tucked into his neck, you start bouncing on him with the excitement of a little bunny, so desperate to bring him to his release. You look down at him, eyes screwed shut, gnawing on his bottom lip and you feel how furiously his eager cock throbs inside you.
“Want you to fill me up.” You warble, dropping your hands to lay on either side of his face, soft locks brushing against your wrists. “I wanna be yours.” You stare into his eyes, which have just fluttered open, eyebrows knitted close together.
“You’re already mine.” He whispers, grabbing you by the waist and turning you over in one swift motion, your back hitting the plumpness of the bed. Before you can take a breath, he slams into you again and your back arches from the overstimulation.
Hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you deeper into him, he roughly pounds against you, cock gliding into your sensitive core. You try to focus yourself, gnawing on your lip and mentally repeating: “You can’t cum this quickly again.”
“Oh yes, you can.” He asserts mischievously, speeding up his sloppy strokes until your eyes roll to the back of your head. You grip the sheets around you, trying desperately to hold on for just a few seconds longer.
“Don’t you dare.” He growls, slapping against you roughly. Beads of sweat trickle down his defined pecs, down to the creamy mess where your bodies meet. With one final gloopy thrust, you scream out his name and collapse entirely, body convulsing with pleasure as he moans at the sight, burying his face into your thigh.
“Goddamn…” You hear him mutter as he continues using your body like a toy, dragging you onto him in a way that you don’t even notice in your cock drunk stupor. You hear a glorious groan escape his lips as he pulls out, painting your body with his creamy white cum.
“Why’d you pull out?” You whine, completely spent and feeling woefully empty now that your bodies weren’t connected anymore.
“You know why.” He exhales as his head hits the pillow beside you. “I refuse to let a child come into this.” You huff a little but feel too exhausted to argue.
Shuffling over, you test his boundaries by leaning your head against his shoulder. When he noticeably stiffens and backs away a little, you sit up hastily to face him.
“Really, Anakin? You’re still not comfortable around me?”
“I’m as comfortable as I need to be.” He murmurs and you let out a fussy whine.
“I’ve just given myself to you entirely and you can’t even hold me after? Please, Ani, you’re making me feel really-“
“Fine! If it’ll get you to be quiet.” He pulls you in swiftly, his strong arm wrapped around you protectively and you let out a satisfied hum while he shakes his head- no doubt wondering how he got stuck with such a petulant child.
The days that followed were full of you waltzing around the ship, lost in your daydreams. Anakin had been dispatched to a different system for a mission and much to your displeasure, wouldn’t return for several days yet; you never knew exactly how long his journeys would last, you only knew they were doubtlessly too long. You missed him dearly - and if the way he hugged you back before he left was any indication- you were growing on him too.
After enthusiastically getting through the book Anakin recommended, he told you that he’d left a stack out by his desk in the library- a personally hand-picked selection that he believed you’d enjoy. Your heart fluttered at the thought and you felt yourself keenly gliding over to it. You reminisced fondly about the way his soft hair felt when it brushed through your hands, how his dreamy eyes made you weak at the knees- how he had the prettiest cock you’d ever seen. You didn’t realise it was possible for someone to be so perfect- so what if he had an unsavoury pastime? It was a flaw you were willing to overlook if it meant you got to wake up next to that face.
Entering the library, you hum a chirpy song and float over to the desk where you find a neat pile of books in varying colours and sizes. Just as you were about to pick the first one out of the stack, Silas rushes in- scruffy and disorganised, looking over his shoulder.
“Princess! Princess, you must hurry. They’re here- they’re finally here.” He sputters, grabbing onto your wrist like a madman and leading you out.
“Slow down! What’s going on?” You question, wondering why you were running along with him.
“Oh but we must be quick, the stormtroopers can only be held off for so long! Sabe is leading the distraction-“
“What are you talking about?”
“Word finally reached them, they’re finally here!”
“Who? Who’s here?” You shout back, brain spinning in confusion.
“The Senate has sent an army - a rescue team for you!” Silas stares at you with crazed eyes, sweating with anxiety. “We can finally go home!”
“W-what?” You stutter, allowing him to lead you out to the docking bay where you can see a battleship undoubtedly belonging to the Galactic Republic- suspended midair awaiting boarding.
“Wait, wait, no.” You backtrack but the grip Silas has around your wrist is too strong to easily break from.
“You don’t mean to tell me you wish to stay here with that brute?” He glances back at you, face painted with disgust as he pushes on for the last few metres left until you reach the ship. “He doesn’t care about you.”
“That’s not true!” You shout, propellers buzzing over you with a furious intensity.
“Is that so? Then why isn’t he putting up a fight right now?” He gestures behind you and you turn around to where the observatory window is. There he is, standing behind the glass, looking at you calmly.
“Do you see? He doesn’t even care enough to stop you!” Silas digs his fingernails into your wrist as you reach the ship, doors unloading with a steamy hiss. “Get in!” He yells, pushing you forward with all his might.
He’s letting you go. He’s letting you leave.
“No!” You fight back, striking Silas across the face and sprinting out of his reach as soon as his grasp on you loosens.
“You idiot! Stay here and rot with those Sith devils!” He curses, clambering up the stairs and smacking the handle, signalling for them to shut. Tears course roughly down your face as you stand back and see the ship ascending before darting off into the distance in a beaming flash. Turning around, you run as fast as your feet will carry you, scrambling up to the observatory to the man you’d just abandoned life as you knew it for.
Throwing the doors open, you see him: mouth parted, eyebrows raised and a singular tear rolling down his cheekbone. You jump into his arms, colliding and entangling yourself with him.
“Why did you do that, huh?!” He grabs your face with both hands, kissing you desperately. “Why would you do something so stupid?” You break out into a sob as he mumbles against your lips. “I would’ve let you go, you could’ve left.”
“I know, that’s why I stayed.” You wrap your hands around his own, still in a firm grip around your face. “I love you, Ani.” You gaze up at him with such adoration he feels his cold heart bursting.
“I love you too.”
As soon as the words leave his beautiful lips, you leap to kiss them- trying desperately to memorise every detail and every sensation that belonged to this moment.
“I-I thought you would’ve surely left if you could.” He murmurs, struggling to break away from your lips. “Thought you were jus’ making the most out of a bad situation.”
“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You say sincerely, hoping he could feel the love you have for him pouring out of you.
“I don’t believe my eyes.” A dreaded raspy voice resonates across the room. “The Princess has fallen in love with my apprentice. And he seems to love her back? Now this is just precious.” Anakin stands in front of you protectively, pushing you back.
“She will prove to be useful in the future.” The Emperor hisses, glaring at you with an empty hunger in his eyes. “Now that she has demonstrated her loyalty.”
“It’s the last show of loyalty you’ll ever see.” Anakin spits as he draws his lightsaber from the left belt hook on his robes and strikes Palpatine, beheading him in one swift motion before he can even register what’s struck him.
“He always taught me that even the most powerful of enemies can be defeated-“ He turns to face you, retracting his glowing lightsaber. “with the element of surprise.”
A twisted grin creeps up on your face as he swoops you up like a true bride- lifting you with a firm hold and carrying you out of the room while you wrap your arms around his neck, planting kisses all over.
“I think it’s high time me and my wife got some privacy, don’t you think?” He gestures at the incoming stormtroopers, who confusedly back away after spotting Palpatine’s decapitated body. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
You giggle as he carries you to your chambers, throwing you onto the bed and peering out of the large doors one last time before shutting them with a loud clamber- ah, free from disturbance at last.
@erinkeifer @crazy4men @mortalheartache @arzua10
#hayden christensen#star wars fanfiction#darth vader#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin skywalker smut#anakin x reader#anakin fanfiction#anakin x you#star wars smut#sam monroe#life as a house#anakin x reader smut#anakin fluff#sw anakin#star wars anakin#darth vader smut
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also thinking about ethan getting flustered and shy around reader all the time in public (shes literally walking him like a dog that he has to hold onto her waist whenever she walks too fast) but in private its a whole different story.
smut below cut MDNI
"ooh look at that dress!" you gasped, squeezing ethan's hand before leading him into the direction of the store.
you stood in front of the window, trying to decide whether or not it was worth purchasing the piece of clothing.
ethan's hand dropped from yours to wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on the top of your head as he waited patiently for you to decide.
"is it cute?" you asked, looking up at him with a curious expression as he stared at you in silence, "ethan?"
"s-sorry, what baby?"
you giggled at his answer, realizing he was busy staring at you then actually paying attention to what you were saying.
"you're so adorable," you smiled, standing on your toes to peck his lips quickly, causing his face to heat up almost immediately.
in front of family, friends, especially in public; ethan was this shy quiet boy who was too busy admiring his girlfriend to really pay attention to anything else, which you found adorable.
but behind closed doors, he was the one in charge.
"fuck, look at you- my little cock slut," he groaned from above you, mesmerized by the way his fat cock would disappear inside your tight hole.
you laid there under him completely powerless, brain foggy and eyes watering from his rough thrusts that seemed to rearrange your insides.
"too fucked out to answer?" he cooed, fake pout on his lips as he started toying with your nipples, causing a whine to drop from your mouth.
"good, just lay there and take this dick."
#yandere ethan landry#ethan scream 6#ethan landry fluff#ethan landry x fem!reader#ethan landry oneshot#ethan landry angst#ethan landry imagines#ethan landry scream#ethan landry smut#ethan landry imagine#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry
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Morning Ride
Pairing: Logan Howlett x f!reader
Summary: Logan wakes you up the morning after your motorcycle excursion OR Logan fucks you soft and sweet because you’re still sore.
Warnings: smut! Somnophilia, morning sex, soft and sweet this time, mostly, pet names, no use of y/n, mostly Logan POV so there’s the barest hint of angst related to him not aging and tragically losing everyone he loves, part 2 of Handlebars but can be read standalone, Logan can pick you up because he has mutant strength <3 WC: 1.1k
A/N: I couldn’t stop thinking about the morning after you get railed on the motorcycle and the contrast of how Logan would treat you. So here’s that. Thanks to @pedgito and @pr0ximamidnight for the read throughs <3
Logan Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi
Logan wakes to early morning sunlight streaming through your gauzy curtains and you wrapped around him like a koala. He looks down at your peaceful face, nestled comfortably against his chest. He wants nothing more than to make you happy, all the time, in whatever way he can. You’re precious to him. He’s lost everyone he’s ever loved, knows he will lose you too. He’ll savor this while he can, make you feel good while he can.
He carefully extricates himself from your grip, settling himself between your thighs. You’re still bare after last night, your shirt lost somewhere over the edge of the bed.
Your pussy is still a little swollen, probably sore after he made you come so many times. He gently licks a stripe through your center and you whimper in your sleep. You unconsciously try to close your legs, but he’s got them spread open on his broad shoulders. He licks you again, adding a little more pressure to your clit. Your hands search for him, one burying itself in his hair and the other grasping at his arm. He buries his tongue inside you, licking up your slick, before flattening his tongue against your slit.
You wake up with a sleepy little moan, the sound going straight to his dick.
“Logan?”
He presses a kiss to your mound before answering. “Yeah, baby?”
“Please don’t stop.” Your voice is airy and desperate.
He looks up at you, all sleep mussed hair and bleary eyes and absolute perfection. “Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.”
Logan licks you in earnest now, drawing circles on your clit with his tongue. He pushes one finger into your entrance and you whine. He pulls back, looking up at you with a crease in his brow.
“Still sore. But don’t stop… please,” you gasp. He’ll stop if he thinks he’s hurting you, and you cannot have that.
He presses his finger the rest of the way inside you, curling it upward into your sweet spot and massaging you there. His tongue on your clit is relentless and you feel your orgasm bubbling up. You bury both hands in his hair and grind your hips against his face. Logan loves how lost you get in him, giving yourself entirely over to him so that he can make you feel good. He adds another finger, stretching your walls around his thick digits.
You’re shuddering against him almost instantly, walls clenching around his finger. Your soft moans spur him on and he licks you through your high, until you’re pushing him away, oversensitive. He sits up on his knees and looks down at you, fucked out and smiling blissfully.
“Come here,” you whine.
And he’s powerless to resist. He crawls up your body, lips dragging from mound to navel to each of your breasts. He presses another kiss to your throat before finally landing at your lips. You kiss him deeply, tongues brushing against each other. The heady taste of your own arousal on his tongue makes you whine into his mouth.
He notches the head of his cock at your entrance. You squirm beneath him, trying to take him in deeper.
“Careful, baby. You’re still sore,” he mutters against your lips.
“Not that sore. Fuck me, Logan.”
Again, powerless to resist anything you ask for, he pushes in until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. Your fingernails drag down his back, leaving bright red trails that heal almost immediately. He drops his forehead to yours, your breath comingling with his in the scant space between your lips. You both savor the feeling of him inside you, two halves of a whole forming into one, your bodies completely intertwined.
He pulls out slowly, only a few inches before he pushes back in, like he can’t stand to leave the heat of your body for long. He sets a slow, gentle rhythm, grinding his wiry pubic hair against your clit with every thrust. Your hands find the back of his head, wrapping his hair in your fingers and tugging him into you.
He kisses you again, softly on the lips, your nose, your forehead. Your eyes, when they’re open, look dazed, still heavy from sleep and made heavier by the slow drag of his cock in and out of your pussy. His own eyes nearly roll back in his head from how good you feel, but he determinedly keeps them trained on your face. He loves to watch you fall apart.
He sits back and pushes one of your legs up onto his shoulder before leaning forward again, deepening his thrusts so that he hits a spot inside you no one else ever has. Your hands tighten in his hair and you tug him back down to kiss you again. He increases his pace a little, still not enough to make you come, but enough to get you whimpering into his mouth.
“Please, Logan. Please.”
“Please what, princess?”
“Lemme come. Wanna come for you.”
What kind of man would deny you that pleasure? He certainly can’t. He sits up on his knees and pulls your other leg onto his shoulder before leaning over you.
“Gonna let me fill you up again, baby?” He starts slow and deep, relentlessly pounds into you, hitting that spot with every thrust and making you see stars.
“Yes, Logan! Please!”
He feels you shatter around him, your pussy squeezing him so tightly. He thrusts into you one two three more times before spilling inside you, filling you so full his spend leaks out around his cock and down between your thighs. He stays buried inside as he lets your legs slide off his shoulders. He presses kisses to any skin he can get his mouth on until you pull him back up to your lips.
“Good morning,” you giggle against his lips, a smile forming on your own.
“Good morning, baby.” He smirks at you and drops a kiss to your forehead.
You bask in the afterglow for a little while before the mess between your thighs grows sticky and uncomfortable.
“I need a shower…”
Logan slowly pulls out of you with a deep groan and stands up. He lifts you out of the bed and into his impossibly strong arms, carrying you to the bathroom. He sets you down on the counter and gets the water running.
You hop down and follow him into the shower, pressing your naked body against his. He gently runs a washcloth over every part of your body, lovingly, reverently even. You do the same for him, returning a softness he isn’t used to receiving. A softness he only gives to you and only gets from you.
After the shower, you end up back in bed, not willing to separate from him just yet. He cradles you against his chest, holding you close while he can.
“You made a mess on my bike last night,” he mumbles into your ear.
“I’ll clean it up later, Logan. Promise.” You nuzzle your face into his body and settle in for a few more hours of sleep.
#Logan Howlett#Logan Howlett fics#Logan Howlett fanfiction#Logan Howlett x reader#Logan Howlett x f!reader#Logan Howlett x you#Wolverine#Wolverine fics#Wolverine fanfiction#Wolverine x reader#Wolverine x f!reader#Wolverine x you#Hugh Jackman Character Fanfiction#Logan fics#Logan fanfiction#logan x reader#logan x f!reader#logan x you#hugh jackman#hugh jackman character fanfiction#hugh jackman fanfiction
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