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hcneymooners · 7 days ago

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⋆ do you love me enough that i may be weak with you?

caitlyn x morally ambiguous!fem!reader x ambessa. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you are in competition with caitlyn for ambessa’s attention. you will follow her, to whatever end. no one draws you in like ambessa does. or so you tell yourself, even as caitlyn's lingering gaze makes your heart stutter. she’s almost desperate to be friends, but you don’t trust that girl by any means. to entertain her is to enable weakness. but, then again, have you ever truly been strong?

cw: a lot wow. age gap, older woman/younger woman, you're the youngest but in your twenties, canon divergence au, toxic relationships, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, power dynamics, impact play, body worship, dirty talk, bdsm dynamics, sub!reader, brat!reader, dom!caitlyn, dom!ambessa, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, tribbing, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, face-riding, slightly dub-con in some parts, kissing, so much kissing, non-sexual intimacy, shower sex, hate sex (but is it really), sexual punishment, implied mental health issues, implied manipulation, you are all up to no good, polyam but is it really we'll see, caitbessa is not in love but they use each other, slight violence (fighting, training, & reader is hurt though not by caitbessa.), enemies to lover, rivals to lovers, slightly dark but not too much, guys i even wrote this properly no lowercase.

wc: 10.03k

soundtrack: give up - fka twigs, careless - fka twigs ft. daniel ceaser, holy terrain - fka twins, your girl - lana del rey (unreleased), & oh my angel - bertha tilman. order is intentional.

notes: this was supposed to be 7k. i need to be locked up. dedicated especially to @megalomaniacz for being the beautiful mind behind the caitbessa note that started it all. definitely one of my favorite things i've ever written.

A COIN’S FIRST SIDE. — CAITLYN.

You do not understand her incessant need to look at you.

The day has broken dark and cold. Your body aches with the rigor of being destroyed and depleted timelessly by Ambessa's experienced hands. It is only the three of you in the early morning - you, Caitlyn with her delicate bones wrapped perfectly in binding and sequestered underneath her uniform of buttery, dusky leather, and Ambessa with her arms bare, her face exposed by the careful braiding of her hair that reveals every subtle shift of expression.

It is this, over and over, until your body shudders into collapse. Yet—minute victory or sudden death—Caitlyn must look at you. Even when it's her turn, with her arched back pressed hard into the textured bamboo of the mat, her face crushed against the hollow of Ambessa's palm, she is looking at you. Those eyes, relentless and searching, track your every movement. It drives you utterly insane.

The weight of her gaze feels like another opponent entirely, separate from Ambessa's ruthless instruction. You tell yourself it's determination that keeps you standing, keeps you coming back day after day to this dance of dominance and submission. But there's something else, something in the way Caitlyn's breath catches when Ambessa's fingers ghost over that perfectly formed bruise on her collarbone—the one you gave her yesterday. Something in the way Ambessa's eyes darken when she notices you noticing.

You leave it. You cannot think of it.

Yet it follows you from the training grounds, through the winding corridors where shadows pool like old bruises. Back to the quarters you share with her, where even the air feels thick with unspoken things. It follows you.

Caitlyn's presence fills every corner of the space you're forced to call home, from the precise way she arranges her rifle components to the lingering scent of gunpowder and leather that clings to her sheets. You are aware of that incessant staring, of the way her eyes rove over your naked chest; your small breasts are cupped dutifully in your hands as you unwrap yourself with a harsh breath.

Teacup tits, she'd called them when she’d once had you pinned against the wooden floor. It had been a day without mats; a day of endless testing. She had leaned in close, teeth gleaming like jewels as she held your stomach down with her hips. She had been sitting on you, and you had floundered then froze at the comments. You didn’t know she could be so brazen, so dirty-mouthed. This follows you too.

You've learned to move around her—around each other—in careful orbit. You are like twin moons, two violent girls with cheeks pressed against each other in the night, caught in some larger gravity - Ambessa's gravity - never touching but always aware. Always watching.

The way she strips her gloves off finger by finger after training makes your teeth clench. You tell yourself it's irritation, not fascination when she unwinds the bindings from her own chest with methodical precision. Tell yourself you don't notice how the morning's wounds are already blooming across her shoulders, masterpieces in indigo and blue that match the ones Ambessa left on you last week—it doesn’t make it less true.

And Ambessa—sometimes you catch Ambessa watching too. The way her eyes linger on Caitlyn's throat, on the marks her own hands left there. It sparks something warm and dangerous in your gut - not envy, you insist. Never envy. Just hunger, the same hunger that drives you to push harder, to prove yourself worthy of Ambessa's attention, maybe both of your intentions. To prove you're stronger than whatever weakness Caitlyn stirs in you with her endless watching.

But later the envy cannot help but be itself, and you retch into your hands and sink from the vibrations of your anger. You do not trust her. You’ve seen her with that girl, the reckless pink-haired one, and she knows that you’ve seen her. But you are keeping this secret for reasons you don’t understand.

And in the dead of night, when sleep eludes you, you hear Caitlyn's breathing change rhythm across the room. You wonder if she lies awake thinking of the way Ambessa's fingers traced that lesion on her hip today, the one that matched the shape of your knuckles perfectly. Wonder if she knows you're awake too, caught in this web of wanting that none of you dare name.

🕸

She is desperate for you, in a way that you do not understand. It is easier when she is quiet about it.

There is an evening where she is loud—where everything is loud—and it rattles you. There is an incessant buzzing, maybe cicadas, and in the beginning, you are enjoying it because it reminds you of home and the way your feet fall into wet earth in the heart of the warm season. But then slowly, you begin to lose your mind and the buzzing is in your teeth and you now feel slightly detached from the world and your body is nothing but heat and you are almost lapping at the screen between the open dormitory window and the world and—

You crawl out of bed. You wear nothing but a sleep shirt two sizes too big, the chest open so that your sweat-laden skin gleams like a body of water. It belongs to Ambessa but it was your father's first until she swallowed your homeland and stole you away. You took it back and she said nothing. Maybe she was impressed with the voracity with which you bit and scratched her in the dark, massive cave of her bedroom.

So, yes, you crawl out of bed. You are swamped in ivory fabric and you drag your feet as you roam the halls. There is movement and it scares you, but you muzzle your mouth with your hand so that your scream dies between your teeth. It's only another guard. You keep moving.

Now, you are in the kitchen. You rummage through spaces until your fingers alight on the thick sphere of a pomegranate. You yank and now it is yours; hard and red in your hands. You turn, and she's there.

Caitlyn moves like water in the dark, all fluid grace even in her own sleep clothes. Her eyes catch the moonlight streaming through the high windows, turning them to pale fire. You clutch the pomegranate tighter, your nails breaking the skin. Juice runs down your wrist.

"Let me," she says, and she's closer now, close enough that you can see the light sheen of sweat on her collarbones. It satisfies you that she is warm too, that she is touchable. Her fingers brush yours as she takes the fruit, and you let her only because you're transfixed by the way she reaches for the small cheese knife on the counter, the way she tests its edge with her thumb. You hope for blood but there is none.

You don't remember moving, but suddenly you're against each other, a dance of hands and breath and barely-contained violence. She pushes, you pull. You spin her toward the table, but she turns it, uses your momentum to send you both sprawling across its surface. Your back cracks against the stone like a bone. Her face crumples momentarily at the sound of your pain, but then she is herself again. The pomegranate rolls away, forgotten until it isn't.

You think of another table, a wooden one from when you were younger. You think of hiding beneath the heavy oak with her, your breaths shallow and hushed as you press close to her side. You were younger then, small enough to fit between her knees, your hands gripping hers like a lifeline. Above, Ambessa’s boots thundered across the floor, her sharp commands reverberating through the room.

“Where are you?” she’d barked, voice like a stone through a window.

But Caitlyn had only grinned, leaning in to whisper, “Don’t breathe."

It's different now. You no longer fit.

She lands on top of you when you hit the floor, pinning you with her hips. The knife glints in her hand, but she just smiles, that same smile from the training mat, the one that makes your stomach clench with disgust and desi—no. She reaches for the pomegranate, and you watch, breathless, as she begins to peel it with delicate precision.

"I'll show you how," she murmurs, and then she's leaning down, pressing her mouth to yours with bruising force. Her teeth catch your lip, and you taste copper, sharp, and sweet like pomegranate juice. When she pulls back, your blood is dark on her mouth, and she licks it away like it's nothing, like this is nothing, continuing to peel the fruit with steady hands.

You buck your hips and she sets the knife down, next to your wrists where your veins gather and bulge like snakes. She holds you down with her core, and you can feel the heat between her legs. There is a moment where you freeze, and she smiles with delight. You buck again and she slams you back down, using a hand around your throat to keep you beneath her like a lamb. Her other hand comes up—the knife, you think in fear—and loiters against herself. Then it moves down, quick and smooth, to raise her slip of a nightgown and bare her creamy thighs. She shifts so that she is atop your stomach, and pushes the shirt up until it’s beneath your breasts.

She isn’t wearing undergarments, or maybe she is. Maybe they are just thin. Either way, you can feel her against the skin of your belly, warm and weeping. You still aren’t moving, but you are slicking in return. You want to bite her, dig until she releases some sort of sound.

Then there is a sound - a sharp intake of breath - and you both turn.

Ambessa stands in the doorway, her expression unreadable in the darkness. For a moment, she watches, her head tilted like she's solving a puzzle. You look back at Caitlyn—who seems unrepentant about her half-nakedness. You put it together, the idea that they have seen one another like this before. The envy is riotous. You ache to kiss Caitlyn again if only to vomit in her mouth.

It’s as if she knows and so she leans in, holds the side of your head as she feeds you pomegranate seeds from the cavern of her own mouth. Eventually, she is no longer feeding, only taking. She presses harder and harder until you let out a yelp of discomfort. It feels, if you aren’t mistaken, like a claim.

Ambessa gazes at the two of you for a moment longer, then she turns away. Her footsteps echo down the hall, leaving you with the taste of blood and fruit and Caitlyn's smile against your mouth.

You regain your strength; you throw her off.

🕸

You don't sleep.

Your body vibrates with fury, with want, with the phantom press of her against your stomach. The dawn breaks grey and sullen through the window, and when you dress for training, you notice Caitlyn watching you again. But it's different now - you see the tremor in her hands, the way she swallows when you bend to lace your boots.

The training grounds are empty. No Ambessa. The message is as clear as a blade against the skin, and you want to scream. Instead, you strip and step into the shower block, letting scalding water pound against your shoulders. You hear the door open, close. Her footsteps on the tile.

"Don't," you say, but your voice lacks conviction. You're too tired to maintain the walls between you.

"You think she's punishing us." Caitlyn's voice is closer now. You hear fabric hitting the floor. "She's not. She's giving us space."

You turn, ready to snarl, but the sight of her stops you. She's different in daylight - less predator, more girl. There are shadows under her eyes that match your own. Water beads on her collarbone where last night's sweat had gleamed.

“Get away from me.” She doesn’t. You try again. “Space for what?”

The question comes out raw.

She steps under the spray with you, and you don't stop her. You watch the way the water falls over her, the spread of the moisture against her staunch skin. She is so angular, so prismatic. You feel as if the world refracts off of her. The water is running cold, so her breasts are erect and straining toward you. You think of drinking from them, more the effort of it, of the space between them where your mouth would fit.

"For this," she says but doesn't touch you. "For whatever this is. I'm tired of watching you pretend you don't feel it too."

"You don't know what I feel."

“I think you are a lonely creature.”

The heat between you evaporates like ash against the wind. Your mouth twists, and she steps toward you. She understands she has misrepresented herself and her intentions. You feel a familiar prickling. Tears.

“Is this how you see me? A cowardly animal?” Your voice is flat, and she balks with her hands flexing nervously against her thighs.

“No. No. I only meant—if anything we are both animals. We have been trained as such at least.”

“You aren’t making this better for yourself,” you say, turning away. “And you don’t know me in any way.”

"I know you taste like pomegranates."

You turn back to look at her, incredulous. “I had just eaten one, you little fool.”

“I know you let me kiss you before you threw me off.” Her smile is small, almost sad. “I know you've been keeping my secret about Vi.”

The name hits like a slap. You rise to the bait.

"Why her?"

"Why Ambessa?"

You have no answer for that. The water runs between you, and for once, you let yourself really look at her. At the desperation in her eyes, the way she’s holding herself like she's afraid you'll bolt. Maybe you've both been hungry for the same thing all along.

Still, it eats at you. This odd way she is pretending to be meek and mild. She is soft in the same ways you are, with the same dips in her hips and calluses along her palm. You think of the panther-like movements of her muscles as she readies a shot.

Something gathers underneath your tongue, and suddenly you are wailing. Loud and long. You rush at her, but she is waiting for you. She dips, and rams into your stomach as she flips you onto the tile. Though she is fighting back, she’s careful with you. Your head is cupped by her limber fingers as she sends you down.

You kick and catch your foot on her side. With a gasp, she’s down too, but a hand still manages to grip at the fine bones of your ankle and yank. It hurts, and you make a terrible noise. She releases you as if you’ve burned her, and you twist to get out from underneath her.

You’re on your belly now, flopping like a fish, but she makes you stay. She wrestles you up so that your back is bent as you press against her chest. You feel her fingers crawl like spider legs down your chest. She fondles, gropes, your tits. She is starved and erratic, pinching your nipples until they are standing on their own.

Your skin is slippery with soap, so Caitlyn digs her nails in for grip. Then the action stops and her hand descends into the apex of your thighs. You try to jerk, try to send her off but she knows this now. She is understanding. That’s even worse.

She holds you, exactly as you need, and gets two fingers inside of your cunt. She curves them, tries to pull you inside out. You let out another noise, but it is less terrible. She works at you until you cannot remember language, only a deep animalistic noise of ‘uh uh uh’, a rhythm. Her thumb swipes against your clit and you’re there, the pleasure like a blinding fire.

You still try to leave her; you try to crawl. She rolls you over and bullies herself in between your legs until she can place her cheek along your heaving stomach. You begin to cry. You’re unsure why, but maybe Caitlyn knows because she only strokes your inner thigh to soothe you. She looks up at you, hair black with water.

“It can be like this, always. You only need to—”

You shove her and scramble back until you’re sitting on your own. She still watches you, cheek to the tile now.

“No conditions,” she says, reworking her words. “Only us.”

You close your eyes and see pink. You open them and think of your general.

“There will always be her.”

Neither of you knows which woman you’re speaking of.

A COIN’S SECOND SIDE. — AMBESSA.

Sleep does not come that night either. You only try because when there is no session to distract it, your body aches for a bed.

You lie awake, counting the beats between Caitlyn's breaths across the room, replaying the way her cheek pressed against your belly, her lips ghosting over skin as she spoke. The way she looked at you like you were something both precious and perilous, desired and dangerous all at once. Your body still aches from her attention.

A sound draws you from your thoughts - the soft click of your dormitory door. Through barely-opened eyes, you watch Caitlyn rise like a phantom, pulling on a robe. She doesn't look back as she slips out.

Your feet are moving before your mind catches up.

You follow her through corridors you know by heart, the same path you took for that damned pomegranate. But she goes deeper, down halls you've never dared explore. When she stops at a familiar door—Ambessa's door—your heart clenches.

They speak in whispers you can't quite catch, but you see the way Ambessa's hand cups Caitlyn's face, the way Caitlyn leans into it like a cat being stroked. Your stomach twists violently. But then:

"She's ready," Caitlyn says, just loud enough, still soft. "She just doesn't know it yet."

Ambessa's laugh is low, rich like honey. "Oh, little one. She's been ready since I took her. We're just waiting for her to admit it."

You don't stay to hear more. But in the morning, when the summons comes—delivered by a guard who won't meet your eyes—you know they were expecting this too. They've been moving you like a piece on a board, and only now do you see the game.

You go anyway. You always do.

You press your lips together to avoid commenting on the way they stand separately like this will erase what you overheard yesterday. Ambessa stands at the center of the room, her presence devouring the light. It bends around her, as though the universe itself cannot decide whether to confront or flee her. Caitlyn is there too, poised and watchful, her gaze darting toward you and away again.

You look at her with an apathy you designed to get you through burning cities and crumbling countries. You wear your mother’s jewelry today: a septum ring with delicate chains of gold stretching across your cheeks, glinting over your ears. Ambessa’s eyes catch on it, a flicker of distaste passing over her face. Your fingers twitch, but you don’t remove it.

Caitlyn moves toward you, her steps tentative. You step back, forcing her to stop and speak first. Always assume power. This is what they have taught you.

“Do you find it fun,” you ask, head tilting, “to be careless with me?”

Caitlyn halts, her expression caught between guilt and something softer. Regret, maybe. This may be your delusion. Ambessa remains impassive, her gaze fixed on you with an unsettling intensity.

“Little one,” she begins, the shared nickname making you flinch. “You should be grateful. I’ve only eased you into a better space. This insipid competition for my attention is draining. I need my best soldiers to remain the best, to work with one another fluently.”

“You’ve been awful to me,” you say, your voice directed at Ambessa but your eyes locked on Caitlyn.

The mask you wear shifts, and you let your anger surface.

“Do not call me her name. I’m nothing like her.”

Ambessa’s expression betrays a flicker of disagreement, but she inclines her head, a mockery of deference. “As you wish, little one. What do you think, Cait? Do you agree?”

The nickname hits like a physical blow. Ambessa smiles wickedly. Cait. You used to call her that, back when you were little girls, not yet twisted. You saw her as some kind of beautiful flower, one that had learned to tremble tall amongst the trees.

“You could have spoken to me,” you say finally, your voice sharper now. “You didn’t need this...elaborate scheme of seduction.”

“Love is a good enforcer,” Ambessa says, her tone rich with amusement.

“You wouldn’t know love if it spat in your face,” you snap.

The room freezes. Caitlyn stiffens, but Ambessa’s expression darkens, her presence swelling like a storm. You meet her gaze, unflinching.

“Get out,” she says, her voice quiet but deadly.

Caitlyn hesitates, her body angling toward you as though to shield you. Her hands twitch, almost childlike in their uncertainty. “She’s only angry. Let me—”

“Get out,” Ambessa repeats, her tone slicing through the air.

Caitlyn turns to you, desperation softening her features. “Listen to me,” she murmurs, stepping closer. “I meant it. All of it. With you. I only—”

You think of the evening before. Your throat works until you have something to say; your hand moves before you can think, shoving her back. The memory of her warmth lingers on your palm like a curse. You try to lose it.

“Get out,” you whisper.

She stumbles, her expression crumpling into something fragile. You swallow hard, forcing yourself to stay cold, and distant. Caitlyn hesitates for a heartbeat longer, but then she turns to leave.

“You always try so hard to be good,” you push out.

She pauses, remains facing away from you.

“I meant it,” she says again. “With you.”

She goes, the door clicking shut behind her.

Ambessa doesn’t speak. She doesn’t need to. The silence between you is a battlefield, and you know you are primed to lose.

“Do you want to have me to yourself, or do you only wish to be my favorite?”

The question surprises you. However, you shouldn’t be surprised by anything Ambessa does. Her voice is calm, and measured, but it holds a challenge. There waits a quiet dare for you to step into the space she’s carved out for you.

Your throat tightens, words lodging there like a trap. You hate the way your body reacts to her—the warmth that spreads under your skin, the treacherous pull of her presence. It disgusts you. It thrills you. You feel weak.

“I don’t want either,” you say, though the answer feels thin. A lie.

Ambessa’s mouth curves into something sharp, more predator than a smile. “Liar.”

Your hands clench at your sides. “I refuse to play this game, least of all with you.”

“Oh, but you are, little one.” She takes a step closer, the sound of her boots deliberate, echoing in the cavernous space between you. “You’ve been playing since the day you first looked at me with that fire in your eyes. When I took you away.”

She clarifies as if you can’t quite recall. It grates at your nerves.

“You hate me, and yet you can’t help but ache for me. Do you think I haven’t noticed?”

Your pulse quickens, the air between you crackling with tension. You hold her gaze, refusing to look away, even as heat rises in your cheeks.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you say, but the words lack conviction.

Ambessa tilts her head, her gaze dragging over you in a way that feels invasive, consuming. “I don’t need to flatter myself. I see you. At first, I thought you might take after me in a way meant to replace your mother.”

She reaches forward, fingers the cold along the ridge of your cheekbones.

“I see the way you tremble when I’m near, the way your apathy tastes so much like desire,” she continues.

She steps closer, and you step back instinctively, your spine meeting the cold stone wall behind you. You hate how small you feel under her gaze, how she makes the air around you feel heavier, suffocating.

“You’ve used me,” you bite out, your voice shaking but firm. “You’ve used Caitlyn, too. You pit us against each other like we’re pawns on your board. Is that all we are to you?”

Ambessa’s expression doesn’t falter, but something flickers in her eyes, something unreadable. “You’re more than that, but useful as pawns when it’s needed. Both of you. But you’re still mine.”

Her hand moves, slow and deliberate, until her fingers brush your jaw. The touch is barely there, a whisper against your skin, but it sets every nerve alight.

“You hate it so much when we touch you,” she says softly, her voice a low rumble. “But it’s that hate that keeps you sharp. That’s why I keep you close. Why we—I— can’t let you go.”

You want to pull away, to spit something venomous, to remind her that you’re not some plaything for her amusement. But you don’t move. You don’t speak. You can’t.

“Caitlyn wants your approval,” Ambessa continues, her thumb grazing the corner of your mouth now. “She craves it. But you... you want something deeper, don’t you? Something darker.”

You flinch.

“I want nothing from you.”

Ambessa leans in, her breath warm against your ear. “Then why are you still here?”

“Because you summoned me.”

“Because you wanted to come,” she counters, her voice soft but unyielding.

You try to defend yourself, but she’s moved past this now. Instead, her hands come to the bend of your hips and lift you with an easy effort that makes your legs widen around the bulk of her body. With quick steps she moves you to the chaise just off to the side of the room, sitting you on top of it. The world is blurring; she is moving too quickly for you to dispute.

Ambessa’s hands are firm as she strips you bare and traces the shape of you. Like Caitlyn—or maybe Caitlyn, like her—she cups a tit in her large hand and squeezes. This version of it is more painful, different from its softer sister movement in the shower.

She leans forward, opens her mouth, and swallows that loose circle of fat. You arch into the heat of her lips, moan low and reedy as she suckles at your nipple. Her teeth trap bits of skin between them, marking you purposefully. She pulls off and takes your other breast inside of her again to be teased and tainted by her bruises.

You rock gently, chasing the feeling. This time when Ambessa’s mouth leaves you, she presses your tits together and appraises them.

“She said this was one of her favorite parts of you.” When she finds your confused gaze, Ambessa smiles. “Cait.”

You tense at that, and she chuckles. The sound infuriates you. Still, you do nothing as she sinks lower, her breath approaching the swollen pearl of your clit. Without a word she latches on to you, lapping idly at you as if you aren’t already dripping down her chin. She holds you as your body stutters, pleasure arcing through you like thousands of arrows.

Ambessa is measured in this too. She sucks your folds into her mouth, laps at you carefully as she grips your ass. She makes you ride her, clit bumping against her strong nose as you follow her instruction. She draws back from you once, only to spread you apart and spit crudely into your cunt. She watches it travel down your slit, slicking you with her saliva, then she spits again and pushes it in with a finger.

Before she continues she glances at you and gives you another order.

“Say her name.”

You say nothing, mind racing. She slaps your ass, hard.

“Say her name. As you used to.”

You understand now. Again, you ride her tongue but when your mouth opens it is not her name that you say.

“Cait,” you moan, legs falling open even wider.

Ambessa adjusts you, slings your legs over her wide shoulders as she consumes you. She shakes her head, burying herself in your cunt as she leads you over the edge. Over and over, she laps at you until you’re panting hard like you would when sparring. This is sparring in another form.

“Oh, fuck,” you whisper. “Oh, fuck. Fuuuuck, Cait. Please.”

“Mmhmm,” Ambessa hums over your clit, and that’s the end of it for you.

You let out a sharp, shrill scream and attempt to bow over yourself with the strength of your orgasms. Ambessa refuses to let you, forcing you back and keeping your legs spread so that she can watch your cunt flutter wildly as you cum.

“There you go,” she murmurs.

“Yeah,” you answer, dazed and nonsensical.

Your pussy spasms, pink and oozing juices like a wound. Your thighs strain with the stretch of remaining open. You think of the shower floor.

“Caitlyn,” you gaps. You can’t stop pulsing. “Yes. Fuck, Cait.”

There’s a thud outside, against the door as if someone has fallen.

Ambessa removes her hands. The silence stretches between you, taut and electric. Finally, you find your voice, though it’s hoarse and trembling.

“If you think I’ll ever belong to you, you’re wrong.”

Ambessa’s smile returns, wicked and knowing.

“You are brave, but you already do, little one. You just haven’t admitted it yet. What do you think we speak of waiting for?”

The absence of her touch feels colder than it should. She steps back, giving you space, but her gaze remains heavy on you, a reminder that you are never truly free of her.

“Go,” she says, her tone dismissive. “Think about what you want. And when you’re ready to admit it, you know where to find me.”

You don’t wait for her to say more. You rise and make to leave, hands grappling over your clothes. You feel discombobulated like a puppet with its strings cut. You only manage to slide your shirt back over your head and it dusts the tops of your thighs.

Ambessa only watches your struggle. You hate her. You want her. You don’t know where one feeling ends and the other begins.

You tug the door open and step back as Caitlyn spills back against the floor, hand still between her thighs and shining with her own pleasure. Her chest is heaving, her skin pink with the rush of lust and physical exertion. Her legs splay beneath her like a doll’s.

She pulls her fingers out with a wet ‘schleck’ and tucks them into her mouth, cheeks hollowing as she looks up at you—unashamed. You say nothing, only bend down and tug her fingers from her mouth. You put them in your own.

THE COIN, FACE DOWN. — CAITBESSA.

The dormitory is devoid of you. Caitlyn is unsurprised.

You are unused to being touched. You don’t know how to be wanted.

Still, she worries. More accurately, she spirals. The ache of your absence gnaws at her in the quiet moments, like a phantom limb she can’t stop reaching for. She doesn’t know where you’ve gone.

Ambessa is losing herself too, albeit in a different way. Caitlyn wonders if she has ever truly lost something before.

The world continues to turn. They train, a familiar ritual that feels increasingly hollow. Their strikes are sharper now, their parries more reckless. Ambessa’s movements carry an edge Caitlyn hasn’t seen before, a fury barely leashed. She fights like she’s trying to exorcise something, and Caitlyn is often the target of that rage.

A blow to her stomach knocks the wind out of her. A strike to her face nearly cracks her jaw. Caitlyn knows better than to show weakness, so she grits her teeth and pushes back, delivering her own brutality in return. She delivers as well as she receives.

She kicks Ambessa in the mouth once, the impact jarring up the toned meat of her leg. The older woman’s lip splits, blood dripping down her chin, but she doesn’t flinch. In response, Ambessa hurls Caitlyn into the corner of the room. She skids across the mat, hitting the wall with enough force to rattle her bones.

Ambessa isn’t looking at her, stays crouched on the mat with her hand pressed to her mouth. Caitlyn struggles upward, sliding to rest against the wall. The fight had been nothing more than an outlet, and Caitlyn, nothing more than a tool. Caitlyn struggles to her feet, leaning heavily against the wall. The guards in the room avoid looking at them, the air too charged, too dangerous.

Something simmers in Caitlyn’s stomach, a volatile mixture of anger, frustration, and something softer she doesn’t want to name. She refuses to puncture it, afraid of what might spill out. She is already suffering enough, diseased with the spores of her affection for you.

And Ambessa.

The thought churns in her mind, dark and poisonous. Ambessa has become an obsession she doesn’t want to admit to, a shadow that looms too large since that moment in the room. Caitlyn hates her, resents her, envies her. She knows what you taste like, what you’d like. She too has been inside you. Caitlyn now has nothing; they are disgustingly equal.

But beneath it all, she respects her. And that’s what makes it worse.

When Caitlyn finally speaks, her voice is strained, biting. “Do you always break your toys this quickly, or am I just special?”

Ambessa’s gaze finally lifts, sharp and cutting. She wipes the blood from her mouth with the back of her hand and smiles, a malignant curve that doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Special?” she echoes, rising to her full height. “You think too highly of yourself, Cait. You’re simply better than most.”

The nickname grates, a reminder of the intimacy they share now—unwanted, unavoidable, tangled in you. Caitlyn clenches her fists. “Don’t call me that.”

Ambessa takes a step closer, her presence suffocating, magnetic. “You’ve been insufferable since she left,” she says, voice low and dangerous. “Do you think I don’t see it? You miss her like a dog misses its master.”

“And you don’t?” Caitlyn fires back, the words cutting deeper than she intended.

Ambessa’s expression darkens, and for a moment, Caitlyn wonders if she’s gone too far. But then the older woman smirks, cruel and knowing.

“I miss her,” Ambessa admits, her tone a blade. “But not like you do. You ache for her because she is a twin to your pain, a foil to my approval. I ache for her because she belongs to me.”

The words twist in Caitlyn’s chest, sharp and unbearable. “She doesn’t belong to anyone,” she snaps.

Ambessa chuckles a low, bitter sound. “You’re wrong. [Name] belongs to both of us, and that’s why you hate me.”

Caitlyn’s breath catches, and she doesn’t deny it.

Without you, they writhe like snakes, their weight pulling them into collision after collision. The mouth of the snake swallows the tail. The hatred between them is palpable, a toxic undercurrent that fuels their every interaction. And yet, when the nights grow long and the ache of your absence becomes unbearable, they find themselves drawn together.

It’s not love, not even close. It’s desperation, a way to drown the pit you’ve left behind. Their intimacy is suffocating, a visceral reminder of everything they can’t have.

When Caitlyn’s nails dig into Ambessa’s back, it’s not out of affection but frustration. When Ambessa’s teeth scrape Caitlyn’s collarbone, it’s not passion but punishment. They use each other because they can’t have you. After all, the emptiness you left is too much to bear alone.

It’s never enough, no matter how fierce. Because they don’t want each other.

They want you.

Still, they try.

🕸

Again, the shower.

They’re slightly cruel to one another. It fuels the high.

Caitlyn snaps back to the moment as Ambessa needles a nail into the mottled skin beneath her shoulder blade, where a bruise sits thick and spreading. She hisses in pain, tits pressing further against Ambessa’s own. There are three thick fingers in her pussy and they fuck her in the way she needs.

Despite the embarrassment, she lets her head fall onto Ambessa’s wide shoulders as she chases her orgasm. Her cunt is like water, dribbling down Ambessa’s wrist as she carves Caitlyn out. Again, a nail presses into the bruise.

The motion is harsher this time around and Caitlyn cries out, throwing her head back so that her hair brushes the middle of her spine. Ambessa continues to toy with this patch of marred skin, teeth clamping on the wide skin of Caitlyn’s neck as the younger woman twists and shudders around her.

“Good fucking girl,” Ambessa mutters, fucking her faster.

Caitlyn bounces to meet her, slamming herself down until her belly tightens and roars. Ambessa lifts her further, suctions her mouth around one of her perky tits, and digs deeper into the pink tight nature of her. Caitlyn roots a hand in her hair and slides the other down her body to collect pieces of that foamy, white ring gathering around Ambessa’s hand.

Slick with herself, she rubs tight, quick circles around Ambessa’s clit. The older woman’s cunt is large, folds heavy and leaking. Caitlyn feels her tremble and she moves faster, breath coming fast as the spray of the water slides down the crack of her ass.

With a muffled grunt, Ambessa cums. As she does, she bites deeply into the meager flesh of Caitlyn’s collarbone. Caitlyn whites out, eyes rolling back briefly so that she’s swaying and focusing on a blurred ceiling. Their orgasms warp and connect; they refuse to stop touching one another as if it will keep reality at bay.

The comedown is almost irritating, and in a frenzy, Caitlyn clutches Ambessa to her chest. This does nothing.

She kisses Ambessa feverishly, practically mauling her, because the echo of your cunt is on her lips. Ambessa holds her, returns the kiss, then breaks it.

“No matter how hard we try, she is not here.”

Caitlyn closes her eyes and her face pinches in pain.

“And where is she? Gone, and you are doing nothing to find her.”

This close, Caitlyn can see Ambessa’s face twitch and melt into something revealing. Something rocks through her at the sight and she detangles their bodies.

“You cannot find her.”

The statement is accusatory, so much so that Ambessa surrenders and turns away. She shuts off the water; Caitlyn remains shivering.

THE COIN, POCKETED. — YOU.

Your mouth tastes like metal and smoke. The streets of Zaun pulse beneath your feet, virulent and alive, and you can barely remember how many days it's been since you left them. Since you left her. Them.

You've gotten yourself into trouble - the kind Ambessa would have prevented, the kind Caitlyn would have shot through. Blood trickles down your side from where the knife caught you, and your vision swims with chemical fumes and exhaustion. You don't know where you're going anymore, just that you're going.

The world tilts sideways. You stumble and catch yourself against a wall slick with condensation. A familiar laugh echoes from somewhere above - it stops your heart, then starts it again too fast. You know that laugh.

When you look up, they're there on one of the suspended walkways - Caitlyn and that pink-haired girl, Vi. They haven't seen you yet. Vi has her hand on Caitlyn's waist, casual, proprietary. Something in you breaks and mends and breaks again.

Then Caitlyn turns her head, and her eyes find yours like they always have. The world stops. You try to run—you always try to run—but your legs give out. You thud to the ground. Mind heavy. Heart heavy.

You hate her more than anything else in the world. You wish that was true.

You hear the clatter of boots on metal as she descends, and then she's there, gathering you up as if she hadn’t been entangled a moment before. She hooks a hand into your hair, and claws you into looking at her as she squeezes your face hard. Something inside of you understands that the action isn’t intentional, not this time.

She bends, hair falling from her hurried bun, and swallows you—grime and all. Her kiss tastes devastating and strains with relief, and you're too weak to fight it anymore. You push back, this time into her, and force her to hold you. She squeezes you tighter, moaning almost obscenely as she relapses and languishes in your feel, in your taste.

Here is her sweet girl. Her sweet fucking girl.

“Cait,” you moan.

She pulls away and strokes your baby hairs away from your forehead as you let out a feeble, wounded noise.

"Vi," she says, not looking away from your face, "help me. I need to get her back to Ambessa."

"This is your runaway?" Vi's voice is rough, knowing. "The one you've been tearing yourself up over?"

Caitlyn's hands tighten on your arms. "It's important for the mission that we-"

"Save it, Cupcake." Vi's laugh is different now, sadder. "I know what love looks like on you."

That training, that beloved animal comes back in full force, and Caitlyn looks up from beneath her lashes. Her face contorts and it’s the strangest she’s ever seemed to Vi. She reaches up, hooks a hand around Vi’s jaw, and drags her down.

“Get it together, Violet. This is not your moment.”

Vi blinks at her, equal parts disturbed and titulated. Caitlyn lets her go, places that same hand on the peek of skin between the hem of your shirt and your linen pants. Why would you ever wear linen when running away? She looks back up again, traces Vi’s expression—analyzes it.

“I can love you both. I’ve done it before.”

Vi's laugh catches in her throat. You watch through half-lidded eyes as something passes between them— understanding, maybe. Or resignation. Your blood is making patterns on the ground.

"Fine," Vi says, and then she's lifting you like you weigh nothing, careful of your wound. "But if this gets me killed, I'm haunting you both."

“If she dies because of our procrastinating, I’ll do something worse than haunting,” Caitlyn snaps.

Caitlyn's hand doesn't leave your skin as you move through the undercity. You drift in and out of consciousness, catching fragments: Vi muttering about shortcuts, Caitlyn's fingers pressing against your pulse, the way they work together like they've done this before. They probably have.

"Stay with me," Caitlyn keeps saying, and you're not sure if she means now or forever. Maybe both.

You think of Ambessa waiting, of how her hands will feel on your skin again, of how she'll look at you like you're something wild she's finally caught. You think of Caitlyn's desperation in the shower, that fucking shower and it’s cold water—of her mouth against your stomach. Of how they both break you apart and put you back together wrong.

"She's burning up," Vi says somewhere above you. Her voice sounds almost gentle.

"We're close." Caitlyn's voice shakes. "The extraction point is-"

"I know where it is." A pause. "You really love her that much?"

"More than is safe."

You want to tell her that nothing about any of you has ever been safe. Instead, you let the darkness drag you into its arms.

When you wake, you're in Ambessa's chambers. The sheets smell like her - lime and mango and earth. Caitlyn is curled against your side, her breath evening out against your neck. And there, in the doorway, Ambessa stands watching you both with hunger in her eyes.

"Welcome home, little one," she says, and steps inside.

THE COIN, MELTED INTO GOLD — CAITLYN & YOU & AMBESSA & YOU &.

Ambessa moves like smoke in the water.

The room holds its breath as she approaches, and you feel Caitlyn's arm tighten across your middle—not protective, possessive. They don't look at each other. They never do. Their hunger is only for you.

"Did you think you could run from us?" Ambessa's voice is silk over steel, very careful in the moment. She sits on the edge of the bed, and the mattress dips with her weight. Her hand finds your ankle, thumb pressing into the hollow where your pulse beats rabbit-quick. "From me?"

You try to answer, but Caitlyn's mouth is suddenly on your neck, wet and wanting. She bites down, marking you, claiming you and Ambessa's grip tightens in response. They're going to tear you apart.

You realize, distantly, that you want them to.

"She's hurt," Caitlyn murmurs against your skin, but her teeth don't gentle. "We should-"

"We should punish her," Ambessa cuts in, and your body betrays you with a shiver. Her hand slides higher, past your knee. It makes you realize that you’re in nothing but a simple pair of baby blue cotton panties and a skimpy bra. Your tits spill out at the bottom. "Shouldn't we?"

Caitlyn makes a sound like drowning. Her fingers find the hem of your shirt and ghost over the bandaged wound at your side. "Yes," she breathes, and you feel yourself sinking, sinking. "But she's ours to punish."

"Ours," Ambessa agrees, and the word feels jagged.

You're losing yourself in them. A thought floats up through your hazy mind: that they refuse to acknowledge each other even as they work in tandem to break you down, to unmake you piece by piece. Their synchronized destruction should be beautiful to watch if you can remember how to open your eyes.

"Look at me," Ambessa commands and your body obeys before your mind can catch up. Her hand cups your jaw, thumb pressing against your lower lip. "She trembles so prettily for us, doesn't she?"

Caitlyn's answer is to drag her nails down your spine, making you arch into the touch. The pain blooms like ink in water, spreading out until you can't tell where it ends and pleasure begins. You're caught between them - Ambessa's unyielding strength and Caitlyn's desperate need - and you're not sure you want to escape.

"Tell us why you ran," Caitlyn whispers, but it's not really a question. Her fingers trace the edges of your bandages again, a reminder of what your foolish escape attempt cost you. "Tell us what you thought you'd find out there.”

"Freedom," you manage to gasp, and Ambessa's laugh is dark honey, sticky-sweet, and dangerous.

"Oh, little one." Her grip tightens, not quite painful. Not yet. "You're only free when I allow it."

She speaks only of herself, but you know the notion pertains to both of them. You know they're right. You've always known and it leaves something bitter in your mouth. That's why you ran - not to escape them, but to make them chase you. To prove they would. To ensure they'd punish you when they caught you.

And now they have.

"Please," you breathe, though you're not sure what you're begging for. More? Mercy? Neither?

"Please what?" Caitlyn's voice has gone rough with her aching. Her teeth find your shoulder again, and you shudder. "Use your words."

But Ambessa's hand is sliding into your hair now, pulling your head back to expose your throat. "No," she says, and you can hear the smile in her voice. "I don't think she gets to speak anymore tonight. I think she’ll bore me with her useless whining.”

The whimper that escapes you makes them both pause, just for a moment. Just long enough for you to feel their satisfaction ripple through the air like heat waves. You might die this way, you’re realizing. They may build you up one final time, only to slit your throat at the time of climax.

Ambessa is practically stone with her tempered fury, and Caitlyn is antsy with her need. You never realized how much you riled them in the same manner they did you. Ambessa goes on to say more, filling the silence with something sick and cruel but Caitlyn has had enough now.

She lurches up, rolls you over so that she sits atop just like the night she first kissed you. The night where it all burst. There’s a moment where she has a hand on your chest, pushing down as if resuscitating you. You don’t understand it until you look down and see the way the pressure makes your breasts surge and spurt from underneath your bra. She pushes again and again and again until you’re taking halting, broken sips of air. Over and over, your tits spill until she grows crazed and snaps the fabric off of you.

Ambessa only watches, though you notice her thighs spreading. She looks soft, her hair unbraided and haloing her face. She wears nothing but a silk yellow robe which displays her figure lovingly. Your cunt grows warm, tender.

Catilyn taps your cheek, brings you back to her. You can’t remember if the button-down she wears is yours or Ambessa’s. Maybe both. You wince at her weight on your stomach and she moves up and over your face.

There’s no time to prepare for the way she comes down on you, her groan thunderous as her pussy settles on your parted mouth. You fall into line, give her what she wants.

Still, you are to be punished, so she sits for a long while. Just smothers you. Occasionally she grinds, filling your nose with her musk. You can feel her soft curls around your lips, and you arch up as if to crawl inside of her skin. This gets her to move, a slow rocking that amps up as you settle into making out with her pouring pussy.

You kiss her here, over and over, dragging your tongue into the affair until she’s riding you. Your tongue slips in and Caitlyn quivers with a whimper as she rides your face harder. You bring a hand up to hold her, to prevent her from slipping but she smacks it away.

“No,” she pants. “No—oh, fuck me. Holy shiiiit.” She bounces liberally, selfishly. “No touching.”

Caitlyn leans forward, supporting herself as she fucks down on you with fervor. You’re so distracted with getting her to fill your throat with her pleasure that you mistakenly lose focus on where Ambessa is. Which is why the press of her cunt against your own absolutely blindsides you.

She’s climbed atop the bed during the desperate coupling between you and Caitlyn, removing your panties so that your pussy winks at her voraciously. True to her nature she decides to take, to conquer you. You grip Caitlyn tightly, so tightly that she squeals and cums at the pain.

You forget to let go, buck wildly as she creams over your nose and chin. It settles on you like sugar; she takes a long finger and dips it in—soft and sweet. You suckle at the pad of it, taking the digit into your mouth and moaning around it as Ambessa slides your cunts together.

You can’t tell if you are one body or three or three-in-one. You feel enmeshed in the both of them. Your blood is theirs; your cunt is theirs. Maybe it is less togetherness and more possession. Ambessa groans deeply as you gush against her, the squelch both loud and quiet. Caitlyn is now off to this side—this you know. She has her other fingers playing with herself, shifts down to let them puncture her.

She shoves another finger into your mouth and you gag, let her hit the back of your throat. Drool is coalescing and running over them. The sight makes Ambessa open you further, and hold you down as she slides your clits together over and over—harder and harder.

Your babbling makes the both of them smile, dark curves tinged with their sadistic pleasure. Again, the possession. Ambessa shoves Caitlyn aside and crawls over you to hook her thicker digits into your mouth. She drags you, your head lolling, as she reaches down and rubs your clit.

You scream, silent with your mouth open wide as you cum. This is not enough. It is never enough. She is back on you, like a lioness on a gazelle. Her pussy swallows yours, and Ambessa forgets you as she leads herself to that approaching golden horizon.

When she crests, she falls on you and you do nothing but accept her weight. You lay there, do this for what feels like years, until Caitlyn weasels behind you. Then you do it again.

🕸

You wake with a start, disoriented by the weight pinning you to the bed. Caitlyn's arm drapes loosely over your waist, her fingers curled like she’d been holding you even in sleep. Ambessa’s warmth radiates from behind you, her breath slow and even. The sheets smell of sweat and sandalwood, of something heady and unnamed.

The sheet clings to your skin almost oppressively, a reminder of last night’s twist of limbs and pleasure. You slide out from between them, careful not to disturb their slumber. Ambessa stirs slightly, her arm shifting, and you hesitate. Caitlyn murmurs something unintelligible, and you freeze. When neither of them wakes, you slip free.

You take Caitlyn’s robe from the chair by the bed, pulling it around your shoulders. The fabric is sheer, nearly useless, but it smells of her. You step onto the balcony, and the cool morning air kisses your skin. The horizon is painted in hues of gold and rose, the sun stretching its fingers across the sky.

You lean against the railing, the chill of the metal biting into your palms. The fortress sprawls below and blends into the distant city, a patchwork of shadows and light. For a moment, it feels like you’re the only person in the world. But the ache in your chest reminds you that isn’t true.

You are loved. You are wanted. And it terrifies you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to make sense of the ache in your chest. The robe clings to you, and the light hits your body in a way that feels exposing, even with no one watching.

A soft sound pulls your attention, and Caitlyn steps out onto the balcony, her hair a tumble of dark waves over her shoulders. She’s still half-asleep, her bare feet silent on the stone. When she sits beside you, the space between you feels both unbearable and necessary.

"Couldn't sleep, baby?" she murmurs, her voice rasping in the quiet.

You shake your head, eyes fixed on the horizon. You ignore the goosebumps that rise at the pet name.

"I don’t know what to do with so much love," you say finally, your voice trembling. "From you. From her. It’s… too much."

She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she reaches out, her fingers brushing your forearm. You flinch, and she pulls back, pain flickering across her face.

"Baby," she says softly, and the word lands like a stone in your chest. "I will undo this. I will make your living easier."

You exhale sharply, the sound halfway to a laugh. “Will I always have to share you?” you ask.

You don’t look at her.

Caitlyn hesitates, then glances toward the bed where Ambessa shifts, her hand moving as if searching for you in her sleep. You glance over instinctively, the motion so natural it betrays you.

“I could ask you the same,” she says finally. Her tone is steady, but there’s a thread of something deeper woven through it—something sharp and sad. Your gaze flickers to her, then back to the bed behind you. Ambessa shifts again, her brow furrowing, and you instinctively turn to her. The action is so ingrained, that you don’t realize what you’ve done until Caitlyn speaks again.

“She pulls at you,” Caitlyn says, not unkindly. “I see it.”

You want to deny it, but the words stick in your throat. Instead, you say, “And you don’t?”

Her lips curve into a wry smile. “I pull at you too. But she’s… something else.”

You swallow hard, the weight of her words settling over you. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Your breath catches, and for a moment, neither of you speaks. The city stirs below, oblivious to the ache of your small world.

INTERLUDE: THE LIONESS, WITH THE COIN IN HER MOUTH.

Ambessa lies still in the bed, her breathing measured and even, but her mind sharp and alert. She hears the murmur of voices from the balcony, the quiet cadence of Caitlyn's voice mingling with yours, a soft harmony in the cool morning air.

Her eyes remain closed, yet her thoughts stray to the image of you wrapped in Caitlyn’s robe, the rosy light of dawn casting faint halos around your figures. She imagines the tension in your body as Caitlyn reaches for you, the way you’d shift, hesitant, but never pulling away entirely. It’s a dynamic Ambessa understands all too well: the push and pull, the magnetic sway you hold over both of them.

You’re the thread that binds, fragile yet unbreakable. It’s maddening. It’s beautiful.

Ambessa shifts slightly, her fingers brushing the cool sheets where you once lay. The absence is temporary—she knows this. But the way you linger in her mind is something she can’t easily reconcile. She has always been a woman of precision, of control. Yet you are beginning to undo her in ways she cannot name, cannot stop, that she believed herself too old for.

Through the door left ajar, your voice carries faintly. When you and Caitlyn return, Ambessa will let you come to her. For now, she waits, her lips curving faintly, as if in a private, unspoken promise.

“You’ll come back to me,” she murmurs under her breath, a whisper carried only by the stillness of the room.

And outside, the sun climbs higher, gilding the world in its light.

RE: THE COIN, MELTED INTO GOLD — CAITLYN & YOU & AMBESSA & YOU &.

Caitlyn leans back, her eyes tracing your face. "We grew up together," she begins, her voice softer now. "Trained together. They taught us to kill, to win, to survive. But you…" She pauses, swallowing hard. "You were always my half. I can’t promise much, but when the pendulum swings, I will choose you to save. Every time."

Her words settle heavy in the space between you. You lean your head against her shoulder, letting the warmth of her presence ease the sharp edges of your doubt.

Caitlyn tilts her head, resting her cheek against your hair. "You’re half of me," she murmurs.

From inside, Ambessa’s voice calls softly, "Come back to bed."

Caitlyn shifts, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, then your nose, and finally your lips. It’s a lingering kiss, tender and unhurried as if she’s trying to pour every unsaid word into you.

"You’re my girl," she whispers against your mouth. "I love you, baby."

The declarations are so soft you almost think you’ve imagined them. But the look in her eyes tells you otherwise.

Ambessa calls again, her voice low and expectant. Caitlyn straightens, her hand falling away from yours. She glances at the door, then back at you. She stands, offering her hand to you.

"Come," she says simply.

You hesitate, the ache in your chest a living thing. But you take her hand.

The sun exposes as it further moves toward its high point, casting the balcony in streaky light, but you feel no warmth. Only the quiet weight of something you can’t name, pressing into the spaces between your ribs.

And behind you, the world goes on turning.

“Come,” Caitlyn says again, her tone gentle but firm.

You go.

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lizziesangel · 19 days ago

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AN ANGSTY ASS REQUEST, I wanna cry and I know you are gonna do amazing. Love your writing. Kind of backstory: So.....Reader is the love of Rafe’s life and the only person who has shown him kindness and given him affection. They are kidnapped for some reason, perhaps kept on a boat, and she falls overboard. Rafe escapes. A BODY (not hers, but can’t be certain) gets washed up at some point and she is determined to be dead. So just kind of as back story....you don't need to write that part if you don't want to <3 So present/and well....the request really: Funeral is held and everything. He is walking around for about 2 months, mourning her, being an ABSOLUTE WRECK. He has nightmares constantly about her and when he’s awake, she haunts him still. He is drinking all the time because he can’t cope. UNKNOWN……she survived but was still held captive. She manages to escape and breaks into his house. HE THINKS HE IS OUT OF HIS MIND, DRUNK but it’s such a teary felt reunion when he realizes that she’s real. Maybe he gives her a bath (cus lets be real) and takes care of her (and again, let's be real, she is probably really weak) and is just shaking with relief, happiness and is so soft with her :(

wow, this is such an amazing request, i absolutely love this!!

the salty air was sharp and cold, biting against your skin as the boat rocked beneath your feet. it wasn’t the gentle sway of a calm ocean—it was erratic, violent, as if the sea itself mirrored the chaos that had unfolded in the past few hours.

rafe’s face was bloodied, his lip split and bruises already blooming along his jaw. his wrists were bound behind his back, the ropes digging into his skin as he struggled against them. he was glaring at the men surrounding him, his usual cocky bravado barely masking the sheer terror in his eyes.

“look,” rafe growled, his voice low and dangerous, though it cracked with desperation, “you’ve got me. i’ll get you your money. just let her go. she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

one of the men, a grizzled figure with a jagged scar running down his cheek, barked out a laugh. “you don’t get it, do you? you think you can screw us over and just walk away? nah.

“you’re gonna feel what it’s like to lose everything.”

the words sent a shiver down your spine. you’d known rafe’s life wasn’t clean—he carried the weight of bad decisions and even worse company—but you never thought it would come to this. the fear in his eyes, barely veiled beneath his fury, was enough to make your heart clench.

“please,” you interjected, your voice trembling as you stepped closer. “please, just let us go. we won’t—”

the sharp crack of a slap silenced you, the force of it sending you stumbling back. rafe surged forward, his shout of rage muffled by the gag they shoved into his mouth.

“enough talking,” the scarred man said coldly. “you want to play the hero, cameron? let’s see how much you care about her.”

before you could react, multiple strong hands grabbed your arms. you thrashed against them, your heart pounding as you looked back at rafe. his eyes were wild, his muffled cries growing frantic as the men dragged you toward the edge of the boat.

“no!” you screamed, your voice raw as the dark water loomed closer. the waves were fierce, crashing against the sides of the vessel, the moonlight glinting off their surface like shards of broken glass.

“rafe!” you cried, your voice breaking.

he was struggling so hard now that blood began to seep from where the ropes cut into his wrists. his muffled shouts were desperate, pleading.

“throw her over,” the scarred man commanded.

“no! please—” you begged, but it was too late.

the cold hit you like a thousand needles, stealing the air from your lungs as you plunged into the frigid ocean. the world above became muffled, the boat a distant silhouette against the black sky as you were swallowed by the waves. you fought to stay afloat, the current pulling at you like unseen hands.

above, rafe was a man undone. he thrashed violently, his screams muffled and his face twisted in agony. “let me go! i’ll kill you! i’ll kill you!” the men barely paid him any mind as they turned the boat, leaving the spot where you disappeared into the water.

“you better hope she’s a good swimmer, cameron,” the scarred man sneered. “and you’d better figure out how to pay us back.”

the funeral rafe held was a quiet affair, not because you deserved anything less, but because he couldn’t bear the thought of it being a spectacle. the small, secluded chapel was filled with the scent of lilies and a suffocating weight of sorrow. he sat in the front row, shoulders hunched, his trembling hands clutching the edge of the pew.

he couldn’t look at the casket, though it was empty.

the minister’s words were hollow, background noise to the storm raging inside him. “a kind soul, taken too soon…” “beloved by all who knew her…” every word made his chest ache. rafe clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, willing himself not to break down in front of the small group of mourners.

afterward, when the empty coffin was lowered into the ground, he stood motionless, staring at the fresh mound of earth. a few people offered condolences, their words shallow and meaningless. he didn’t respond, barely even acknowledged them. what could they say? no words could bring you back.

once everyone left, rafe stayed behind. minutes turned into hours as he sat on the damp grass, staring at the grave as though he could will it to undo itself. he whispered apologies to the air, his voice breaking. “i should’ve done something. i should’ve stopped them. i’m so sorry, my baby.”

the days that followed bled together into a haze of grief and self-loathing.

rafe couldn’t stand being at home. every corner of the house reminded him of you. the couch where you’d curled up with a blanket and a book, the kitchen where you’d danced with him to music only the two of you could hear—it was all too much. he turned to the only thing that numbed the pain: alcohol.

whiskey became his constant companion, the burn in his throat a welcome distraction from the ache in his heart. he barely ate, barely slept. the nightmares wouldn’t let him. every time he closed his eyes, he saw you falling, the cold water dragging you under while he screamed your name. he’d wake up drenched in sweat, his chest heaving, the echo of your voice fading into silence.

he stopped answering his phone. friends tried to check in on him, but he pushed them away. he couldn’t face their pity, couldn’t stand the thought of them telling him to “move on.”

how could he move on when the love of his life was gone?

the two-month mark came and went, and rafe was a shadow of the man he used to be. his once meticulously styled hair was unkempt, his clothes rumpled, his face hollow from lack of sleep and too many sleepless nights spent drowning in liquor.

he spent most of his days wandering aimlessly, haunted by memories of you. he would catch glimpses of you everywhere—in the stranger who had your laugh, in the perfume that smelled like yours. his heart would leap, only to crash when he realized it wasn’t you.

one evening, he found himself on the beach, the waves crashing against the shore. he sank into the sand, letting the cold wind whip against his face. he stared at the horizon, the sun dipping below the water in a blaze of gold and crimson.

“i don’t know how to do this without you,” he whispered to the empty expanse of ocean. his voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands, the weight of his grief crushing him.

for rafe, the world had stopped the moment you disappeared. time dragged on, but he remained frozen, lost in a limbo of regret and longing. he didn’t know if he could survive without you.

he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

his nightmares were relentless. every second he closed his eyes, he was back on that boat, watching helplessly as you were thrown overboard. the icy waves swallowed you, your desperate cries for help echoing in his ears. he’d wake up gasping, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving as he reached out for you in the darkness—only to find cold sheets and empty space.

you weren’t there, and the realization gutted him every time.

the only way he knew how to cope was to drown himself in alcohol. bottles littered the floor of his house, their contents his only escape from the crushing weight of his grief. the whiskey blurred the edges of his pain, but it never truly numbed it. instead, it left him hollow, stumbling through a life that felt meaningless without you.

the storm outside was fierce, rain pelting against the windows and wind howling like a wounded animal. rafe sat slumped on the couch, a nearly empty bottle of whiskey dangling from his fingers. he stared blankly at the television, though he wasn’t watching it. the sound was muted, the images flickering across the screen as if mocking his apathy.

the sharp sound of glass shattering upstairs jolted him from his stupor. for a moment, he froze, his foggy mind struggling to process it. he shook his head, muttering to himself, “you’re losing it, rafe.”

but then he heard it again—a faint creak of floorboards. His heart began to race, adrenaline cutting through the haze of alcohol. grabbing a nearby lamp as a makeshift weapon, he stumbled toward the stairs, each step heavier than the last.

he pushed open the bedroom door, his breath hitching at what he saw.

you were there.

at first, he thought it was another cruel trick of his mind. you stood by the window, your body bruised, your clothes torn and soaked from the rain. your hair was a tangled mess, your face pale and gaunt, but it was you.

“rafe…” your voice cracked, barely more than a whisper.

“n... no,” he muttered, shaking his head. his grip on the lamp tightened. “you’re not real. you’re not—”

“i am,” you interrupted, taking a shaky step toward him. “i got away. i—i’m here.”

the lamp fell from his hands, clattering to the floor as he stared at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. when your knees buckled, he lunged forward, catching you before you could hit the ground.

the moment your weight fell into his arms, he knew. you were real.

a sob broke from his throat as he held you tightly, his fingers digging into your sides as if afraid you’d disappear again. “you’re alive,” he choked out, his voice raw. “oh, my God, you’re alive.”

“i am,” you murmured weakly, your hands clutching at his shirt. “i am.”

rafe carried you to the bathroom, his arms trembling with relief and adrenaline. he set you down on the edge of the tub, his hands shaking as he turned on the water, testing the temperature to make sure it wasn’t too hot.

“i... i need to—you need to get cleaned up,” he said, his voice unsteady. he avoided your eyes, his movements jerky and unsure. “you’re freezing. God, you’re so cold.”

you didn’t protest, too weak and tired to do much more than nod. he helped you out of your soaked clothes, his touch gentle, his eyes filled with guilt and tenderness.

once the tub was filled, he eased you into the warm water, his heart breaking at the way you winced. he knelt beside the tub, his sleeves rolled up as he carefully washed away the grime and salt from your skin. his hands trembled as they ran through your hair, untangling the knots with a tenderness that brought tears to your eyes.

“i thought i lost you,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i thought—i thought you were gone forever.”

“i almost was,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

tears streamed down his face as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against your damp hair. “you’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “i’m not letting you go again. i promise.”

after the bath, rafe wrapped you in the softest towel he could find and carried you to his bed. he brought you water, food, anything you might need, though you barely managed a few bites. he sat beside you, his hand never leaving yours, as if reassuring himself that you were really there.

that night, for the first time in months, he didn’t have nightmares. Instead, he fell asleep with you in his arms, the steady rhythm of your breathing the only sound he needed to finally find peace.

CURRENT TAGLIST⋆⭒˚｡⋆

@maybankslover ⟢ @diorstarkey

#lizzieswrites𝜗𝜚 #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #drew starkey x you

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deadsetobsessions · 1 year ago

Text

“I ate paint once,” Danny nonchalantly threw out in the middle of game night.

The entire table stopped. Heads whipped towards Danny.

“Yeah, me too. Cardamom yellow was my favorite. Ugly as hell but the chemicals just tasted right.” Tim replied, using the distraction to nab some of Bruce’s money. Monopoly money, that is. Everyone’s heads snapped towards Tim, only Cass and Danny (who was part of the scheme) caught him cheating.

“Really? I think mine was those spray can blue cosmos paint. But that might have been more my thing for space than the actual taste.”

“WHY WERE YOU EATING PAINT?!” Dick asked, looking like he wanted to lunge over the table and shake Danny until he puked out paint. Bruce looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

“Yeah, what the fuck, Tim?” Jason snickered.

“In my defense,” Danny grinned. “I was left unsupervised. Also, Steph, you owe me $24 in rent.”

“Ugh! I’m almost out of money! Can’t you loan me some, Alfred?”

“I am sorry, Miss Stephanie, you are not qualified for another loan. In fact, one of your properties is about to be confiscated as per the collateral agreement.”

“Noooo!” Stephanie made dramatic dying noises.

“What was your excuse, Timothy?” Damian asked, eyes glued to the board and determined to win the game.

“Hey, I was probably less supervised than Danny was.”

“Yeah,” Danny perked up. “My parents brought us down to their lab all of the time. Taught us a lot of stuff.”

“Really? Like what?” Duke asked, casually slapping away Tim’s sneaky hands.

“Oh, like what a rocket launcher sounded like up close! And how to build a laser gun! Oh! And what human organs looked like when they’re fresh!” Danny chirped, collecting his money from a stunned Stephanie’s hands. He looked up.

“Oh, don’t worry! I at least learned what not to do when it comes to lab safety. And we wore hazmat suits to protect ourselves from the radiation.” Danny smiled in a ditzy fashion as the table fell silent in a horrified manner. Cass tapped his arm amusedly, but allowed his bullshit to stand. After all, it’s not like he lied.

“Radiation?” Duck’s voice raised a couple of octaves. Oh yeah, Danny’s going to laugh about that pitch for a long while.

“Organs?!” Jason’s hands closed around the plastic house he was holding rather forcefully.

“Do you even know what basic lab safety practices are, Danny?” Damian demanded, finally looking up with brows furrowed. He rolled the dice and grabbed a mystery card. He gets $100 from Alfred.

“How old were you??” Duke asked.

“Like… 8, when they first brought me in?”

“Eight.” Bruce rumbled, slipping into a more Batman like persona. When Danny sent him a confused look, Bruce straightened back into his Bruce persona. “Wow, they must have trusted you a lot!”

“Sure?”

“What were their names again?” Stephanie asked sweetly, Cass nodding at him.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton.” Not that they’ll find them here, considering his parents are dead and in another universe.

“Cool, cool, cool!” Stephanie blinked, beaming as her hands formed lethal fists underneath the table.

Danny blinked and tilted his head in an unassuming way, pretending like he had no idea what Stephanie was thinking of. He sneakily handed over $600 to Cass in order to complete his monopoly on his side of the board.

Danny stood up and spread his hands out, one hand clutching his new found victory.

"Well, lady and gents, you've all been floundering against the inevitable tide of capitalism. I am here, as a reminder that you can never win against the hopelessness that will be your financial ruin! I, Danny Fenton, have obtained a quarter of the board and therefore have won against even your best efforts!" He cackled, holding up his fan of properties triumphantly. He shot a mischievous grin at Cass, who held up a solemn thumbs up in support for his monetary takeover.

"... Danny, are you... planning on a career in villainy?" Bruce asked, after a brief and total wave of shocked silence. Damian looked like he was having a conniption at having been bested, unknowingly. Yeah, Danny was disarming like that.

"Yeah, that was concerning." Tim piped up, nabbing a ten from a shell-shocked Damian.

"Hey! The Riddler gives surprisingly good monologues! And he's really loud, so it's hard not to pick up on things. Duke, your turn." Danny sat back down, pouting. The villainy comment was a little too close to his fears.

"Damn it." Duke, who had rolled, landed smack middle of Danny's territory. He handed over a sheaf of bills to a grinning Danny.

"Wait a minute! You have cheated!" Damian bolted upwards from his seat, finally done running through the purchases he remembered Danny making. "You acquired that property not within the games' rules!"

"Okay, first of all, the rule book is a suggestion, like lab safety rules," Danny saw the others open their mouths to protest, but he quickly shut it down. "Second, there's totally no rules about selling and buying places from a private owner so suck on it. And thirdly? Cass sold it to me, so you all can take it up with her."

"Diabolical!" Damian muttered indignantly.

"... Dammit." Dick sighed, falling back into the chair and balancing on its two legs. He couldn't say anything, considering his current of bankruptcy.

"Danny. Danny, I'll buy a property from you." Jason said, eyeing one of Danny's other properties near his own cluster.

"What do you have that would interest me?" Danny asked, falling back into his Vlad-like imitation.

"Ew, don't do that," Steph reached over to jab him in the arm.

"Yeah, Jason, what do you have?" Duke said, the lovely subtle instigator that he is.

"Red Hood's signature."

The others blue-screen, gaping at the actual audacity Jason had to offer up something that would take him no effort. Danny, prepared with a poker face that came with lying straight to Jazz's ever perceptive eyes about whether he nabbed the last of her ice cream or not, was prepared.

"Red Hood? The condom guy working out of the... um. Upper East Side?" Danny asked, pretending to hesitate. He knows where Jason operated. That doesn't mean he couldn't simply pretend otherwise. For science, of course.

...

The table howled with laughter, Jason's indignant spluttering unable to say anything against Danny's wide eyed look of innocence. Cass leaned against the table, chuckles falling out of her mouth and eyes crinkled in mirth. Dick had fallen out of his chair, helplessly wheezing on the floor. Duke is hiding his face in his hands, mirroring Bruce's pose as they both shake from silent laughter. Damian is smirking, wicked and sharp as he smugly stared at Jason. Stephanie and Tim are leaning against each other, repeating "the CONDOM GUY" in alternating and increasingly louder voices. Alfred had a smile on his face and a tight grip on the bills in front of him that betrayed his amusement.

"He's a crime lord!" Jason exclaimed, indignant.

"Uh, okay. Well, I mean, why would I want a crime lord's signature? I don't want to be on his radar. Or echolocation or whatever. He's... a Bat, right? That's what you guys call that group, yeah?"

"How do you know the Rogues better than the vigilantes?!" Jason glared at his unhelpful family. Those assholes better prepare for a load of rubber bullets the next time they're on patrol near Crime Alley.

"Hey, it's not my fault the vigilantes here are unsociable. Maybe if they monologued more, I'd know who they are."

"Wouldn't- wouldn't that make them more villain like?" Tim asked, stuttering from his laughter.

"I dunno?" Danny replied, enjoying his the family's unabashed joy. "I mean, they're pretty legit and they help people already so I guess they don't need to be sociable... but still I swear I haven't heard anything about Batman other than that he grunts and is mean towards criminals."

Is mean towards criminals, Duke mouthed at a recovering Dick who was in the process of heaving himself back up. It sent him careening back down to the floor with restrained giggles. Cass tapped Danny, reminding him to eat some food.

"Tt. Of course not. They're efficient at their jobs and have no need to be seen as welcoming to criminals." Damian puffed up.

"Yeah, but they've gotta feel safe, right?" Danny shrugged as he plucked a cookie from the cookie platter. "The... one with the sword, what was it?"

"Robin." Damian supplied, eyes narrowed and trained on him.

"Yeah, the baby bird. The kids think his swords are cool so they trust him. But like, the others? The flippy blue one? Not so much."

"Wait," Dick said from the floor. "They don't trust Nightwing?"

"Nah, they trust him to protect them, but he has a history of bringing the kids to the police, you know?"

"What's wrong with that?"

Danny shrugged. "ACAB. But also because everybody knows that half the guys in the GCPD and CPS are child traffickers."

"Wait, what?" Jason and Tim straightened.

Bruce piped in, the emotional whiplash of amusement to concern to amusement to concern visibly making itself known on the man's baffled face. "I thought Batman and Commissioner Gordon took care of that?"

"Sure, the obvious ones." Danny hesitated. Well, he's pretty sure they think he's a meta so... "There's... a meta trafficking ring that they're a part of. That's. That's kind of what I was running from."

Danny looked up pleadingly. Cass placed a hand on his arm in comfort, not knowing that he was fibbing about running from them.

Danny was on the streets helping his own Alley metas to run from them.

Danny is as feral as she was, and that meant he could hide just as much as she could read off of him. Cass was the best and he felt kind of bad about lying to her, successfully or not.

"Uh. Some people said you know Batman, Bruce. I know- uh, that might not be the case but if you do, could you ask him to look into it?" Danny made his eyes tear up. "And maybe he wouldn't care about me much, I mean, I know he doesn't really like metas but if he helps out, I could totally like, leave the city once the kids are safe, promise."

Ooh, Danny put a little too much sincerity into that. He could practically hear the hearts breaking in the game room as everyone glared at Bruce.

"You won't have to leave."

"... Promise?" And Danny's voice was a little too desperate, too hopeful, because Bruce's eyes tugged down in sadness.

"Promise." He rumbled, all Bruce Wayne and all Batman. Danny's core warmed. Danny also saw the rest of the family's faces darken in pure agreement. And partial wrath.

"Yeah! We'll kick Batman's ass if he even thought about kicking you out!" Stephanie proclaimed.

"He's far more proficient in combat than you are, Brown." Damian immediately leapt to Batman's defense and that was that.

Well, later, as Danny was "sleeping" and Phantom was hovering in the cave, invisible and intangible, he got confirmation that his Alley meta kids were going to be safe, soon.

After all, the entire Batclan was suiting up and baying for blood, with Oracle's all encompassing presence behind them, fingers reaching for their enemies' weak points.

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yougavememyopia · 2 months ago

Text

Continuation of this. A bit suggestive at the end.

Loser yandere was on his knees, begging for forgiveness. He got ahead of himself. Sucking your fingers like a perverted freak. He looked up at you with glassy eyes, pouting just slightly. He didn't mind your pity. In fact, he wanted it. The worst he made himself look, the more you let things pass.

You sighed, ultimately having no choice but to forgive him. He looked so sad, so lonely. Like a stray puppy begging for attention. Why wouldn't you spare his feelings? He had no real friends. It made sense that he didn't know how to act properly.

Except he did. He was just manipulating you, saying the right things to make you cave and hang out with him. He would speak with a certain depressed tone that would melt your heart, and when you agreed, he would become extremely happy. Cheering and overreacting. A great excuse to excitedly hug you. Throw his arms around your shoulders and get lost in your scent.

He was strangely smart. Using both negative and positive reinforcement. Getting you to say yes to avoid making him sad, and making you feel content by his contagious smile. All part of his plan that'll eventually end with you two happily engaged.

Even if that strategy didn't work, he'd just whine and beg. He knew you couldn't take it. You would glare at him, and he'd feel a strange sensation through his body. Sometimes, he wondered how being hit by you would feel like. Or maybe with your hand wrapped around his throat.

Given how much he bothered you, it was a miracle you were still friends with him. It wasn't all that bad. You somehow had fun hanging around with him, laughing at his silly jokes. He'd take you to so many places. Always making sure you were enjoying your time so you'd come back for more!

When you weren't in public, he'd get clingy. It was obvious he was touch-starved and a big attention seeker. He wanted to have you touch him, get close to him, and pay attention to him. Only him.

"I can't get this stupid button undone... Can you help me take this shirt off? Come onnn, it's way too hot in this room..."

"Look how good I smell. Come on, sniff my neck. It's a new thing I bought. It smells like your favorite!"

"I'm so hungry, and my hands are all tired. Ughh.. Can you feed me a snack? I'll open my mouth wide for you. Aaah~"

He'd still bug you about the kiss. Not ever talking about the incident afterwards. Those few months of reinforcement should've made you softer to him. He should've been able to get you to agree. But you stayed determined to deny him.

"I want a kiss already... Why can't you, my bestest friend, show me how it feels~? All of these movies have one. I'm being reminded of how much of a loser I am every single day." He grumpily said to himself as you both watched a weird horror movie. The scared couple on the screen made out to relieve their stress... or something. It was a strange movie he (purposely) picked.

"Can't you fucking understand?! It'll change this whole relationship. I told you that a million times." You crossed your arms, darting your gaze from the movie to him.

He sighed. You sighed. Then you exchanged a look. "Alright. Fine. You're not gonna stop asking, are you? Just promise me you won't act all awkward after it."

He lit up, nodding eagerly. "Really?! Oh, wow! Thank you. Thankyouthankyouthankyou! You're the best! Seriously. A life saver~"

"Shut it." You groaned, watching the last bits of the movie with the characters escaping.

"Yes, ma'am. You got it." He climbed on your lap. That made you stiff a bit, looking at him with a confused look. He set his legs on your sides, his arms wrapping around your neck. "How is this gonna work? Can you please do it very slowly?"

"Eh...? Okay. Whenever you're ready." You wrapped your arm around his waist, not knowing what else to do with them. He hummed happily. His face came closer to you, and somehow, you felt nervous. You shrugged it off, letting him kiss you at his own pace.

"Here I go..." he whispered, his nose rubbing against yours.

He pressed a small peck on your lips as if to test out how it feels. Before you could correct him, he kissed you again. This time longer and harder. You squeaked at the suddenness, forced to lean back against the couch as he began to lick your lips, asking for entry.

You reluctantly opened your mouth, and he wasted no time. Pushing his tongue inside your mouth. Lapping at anything he could find. Your tongue brushed against each other, eliciting a moan from him. His hand held the back of your head to keep you from pulling away. Shifting a bit on your lap, whimpering against your lips.

He kept licking your tongue, sucking on it. He moaned again when you finally returned the kiss. His movements were clumsy, making it easier for you to take control. After a minute, he pulled away, panting as he buried his face into your neck. He seemed embarrassed, and so you hugged his waist tighter.

He moaned against your neck. "Ah.. that felt so nice. Mmh, shit..."

"Yeah... you got a little ahead of yourself, y'know. It was supposed to be a simple kiss. I never said tongue was allowed." You pointed out. Rolling your eyes, because you knew he didn't care.

"You never said it wasn't." He sat up to look you, tilting his head innocently. "I would've listened to you if you said it."

"No, you wouldn't have." You mumbled.

"You also didn't say I can't go for another one~!" He leaned in again and captured your lips in another kiss. You protested, hands gripping his shoulders now to push him away. He whined, sucking your lips as if that would change your mind. "But, please, just one more. I still haven't learned the proper technique yet."

You were beginning to understand that he had a different reason for overstepping boundaries. The way he kissed you, the way he tried to savor your taste, the way his pressed his body against yourself. It was like he was trying to devour you. Trying to be one with you.

He moaned loudly when he pulled away. His body was shaking a bit, his eyes dilating. Something pressed against your stomach. You didn't need to look down to see what it was. "Um... Oops?"

#desperate yandere #obsessive love #yanblr #yandere #yandere oc #pathetic men #pathetic yandere #yandere boy #sub yandere #male yandere #male yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x you #loser yandere

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chuluoyi · 6 months ago

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࿐ ࿔ hot, hot summer !

in which you got the offer of a lifetime—takes place in 2006-2009 era! @mrrpmiao miao, you’re so responsible for the brain worm you’ve instilled in my mind🙂‍↕️

a part of gojo's love entries

summer is as hot as you are pretty.

it’s an undisputed fact to satoru. after all, he chose you. so of course you were the best. he supposed even strangers here would eventually come to realize it too… as it wasn’t the first time their kind had done so.

kamakura beach was packed in summer, and he stepped away a bit to get you shaved ice only to come back to this appalling sight.

“miss! ooh! you’re so gorgeous!”

this suspicious-looking middle-aged man—with goatee, long tied hair, wearing palm shirt and beach shorts—approached you so merrily as you were chilling under the parasol.

“ah thank you…?” you pasted a taut smile, totally clueless and spooked, hoping he would go on his way.

“i mean it! your body is so—wow!” the man gasped dramatically, appraising you from head to toe. “your bust—it’s perfect! you’d make a good cover girl, you know!”

you were wearing the bikini of the same brand inoue waka endorsed at satoru’s insistence, and true, it was indeed a sight for sore eyes.

his sore eyes, specifically. not others.

satoru scowled, and he marched towards where you were. he would do his job as always—chasing away no-good men from you.

“hey you,” he barked. “what business do you have with my girl here?”

the bearded man regarded him with surprise, before he assessed him from top to bottom. “oh! you’re mr. boyfriend? whoa, you don’t look bad yourself!”

“if you’re trying to bother my—”

“no, no! you’ve got the wrong idea!” the man defended, raising both hands in surrender. “you see, i’m about to offer the pretty lady a gig as a gravure model!”

wha? you gaped. satoru blinked.

“m-me?” you stammered, flabbergasted, pointing at yourself. “uh, are you sure?”

“yes! 100% sure!” the agent man replied with stars in his eyes. “miss, with your assets, you’ll outshine even inoue waka or kaoru sakurako themselves!”

“really?!” you almost laughed. it was a strange compliment, but a compliment nonetheless.

but next to you, satoru’s face darkened, his eyes obscured. his fists clenched around the paper bowl of shaved ice so hard it shook. the next thing you know—

“here, hold this.” he suddenly shoved the shaved ice to you, before he plucked his sandal off and—

“YOU!” satoru raised the flip-flop above his head, his eyes blazing with fury, ready to swing it at the man. “GET LOST YOU SLIMY BOZO!”

“—?! WAIT, YOUNG MAN!”

and then came the most disastrous scene before you: your boyfriend chased the agent with his sandal, throwing it at him that it bonked his head, then grabbed someone’s big-ass water gun without permission and continued the pursuit, determined to catch him.

. . .

“how could you?! why do you seem even remotely interested!?” satoru fierily questioned you after he was done cooking the gravure video agent, panting and sopping wet. in the end, the two of them got into a water gun fight that ended with him winning.

you turned to him, feigning an unimpressed expression. “he said i can outshine inoue waka. who wouldn’t want that chance?”

“you can’t!” he retorted almost immediately, aghast. “i mean, yeah you can! but no! no way! you can’t flaunt your body for everyone to see!”

“why?”

“you are mine!” he pouted hard, irked. “i don’t want to share you! you are for the consumption of my eyes only!”

his blatant response made you giddy, truthfully. and as if to stress his point, he suddenly pulled you to his chest from behind, wrapping both arms around you, making you squeal.

“satoru, you’re wet!”

“so? when i marry you someday, we’re going to share a lot of things together. wet is one of them.”

“does this mean you’d pick me over inoue waka?” you threw him a suggestive smile, looking up at him expectantly.

his face then turned pink, as he smooched you in the head. “you know the answer to that, dummy.”

who would have thought that he would really keep his promise and that you'd come to the same beach years later...?

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aajjks · 7 months ago

Text

Just like Candy (m)

synopsis. in which your best friend satoru is determined to prove you wrong by making you cum on his tongue until there’s nothing left.

pairing: gojo x reader

rating: 18+ MDNI. and remember consent is so important.

warnings: 18+ THÈMÈS, èxplïcït p-ssy eàtïng, bèst frïènd göjö, örál sèx (fèm rècïevïng), fïngerïng, hè ïs á mènácè, lôwkèy yándèrè göjö, pösèssïvènèss, lïckïng, sückïng, bïtïng ànd övèrstïmülátïön.

“So you’re saying that I dont look like I’d be good at eating pussy?”

“Yeah.”

So nonchalant. You’re so nonchalant about this- Satoru is so offended right now, so dumbfounded. How can you say something so stupid! So false. Are you trying to hurt his ego? He’s literally notorious for making girls see stars with his tongue, he’s the best at pussy eating. Gojo can’t help but scoff at you as you sit on his bedrooms couch.

“Wow… yn I can’t believe this AT ALL.” His blue eyes are wide, his mouth agape.

“What’s so offensive about it huh? I mean I just think you’re bad at it. You don’t even look like you’d enjoy it.” You shrug, and Satoru gasps.

“I LOVE PUSSY.”

“Ugh whatever let’s drop it already.” You lean back on the couch, browsing through your phone.

“NO.” He argues back, shaking his head, Satoru gets closer to you, he doesn’t understand why you’re messing with him like this.

You’ve been best friends for two years and you always tease him like this, he does it too but he’s just really bad at taking jokes. But you can’t stop either you love messing with him. And he kinda likes it.

He won’t admit it, but he loves it when you mess with him, even though he gets a little annoyed like right now.

You just exactly know what button of his to push. And you have pushed enough of his buttons today.

And now it’s about time he proves you— his best friend, the one he secretly has been liking for the longest time— wrong.

“Oh yn you asked for this.” He bites his lower lip before he falls to his knees, right infront of you. You put your phone down.. seeing your best friend on his knees.

“It’s okay you don’t have to beg for forgiveness haha.” You tease him but when you see a smirk on his face, you’re confused.

What is going on in that brain of Gojo’s?

“What?!”

Gojo’s biceps flex as he groans. “I’m going to prove you fucking wrong.”

Before you can really process- Satoru speaks again, he licks his lips, “I’ll eat you out- please allow me.” He looks directly into your eyes. “Come on.” He asks, waiting for your Yes.

“W-What..?” You question, you’re so confused, what’s gotten into him. You were only joking but- “fine… fine..” you ponder for a moment before replying.

Gojo grins like a cat, it’s so wide, his pearly whites almost blinding.

“Good girl- are you ready to be proven wrong?”

You don’t choose to reply but you spread your legs.

Satorus mouth goes dry as you take off your shorts and now he can see your panties, his mouth agape, his pupils dilated.

“Let’s see what the fuss is about, shall we?” You say, in a quote tone before Gojo grabs the hem of your panties and pulls them down.

You watch him, your heart hammering.

And he feels himself harden.

You’re gorgeous. You’re actually indescribable, he has no idea what to say or think because his mind has officially gone blank.

“W-Wow.” He says before burying his face in your pussy, his face directly into it, and he takes a long sniff before grunting against it.

“Mhmm fuck- you’re gonna be the death of me.” And then you feel the first lick, you shudder at the sensation, a small gasp leaves your mouth.

He licks it again, giving it a few kitten licks before he starts to gently suck on the clit. His hands grab the best of your thighs and you let out a soft noise.

And that’s when he starts to pick up his pace, he’s so experienced, but right now he feels so nervous, he’s going to make you cum on his tongue.

Gojo’s tongue flicks out to lick your cunt before he feels you getting wet and he dives his tongue deep in, he digs his nails into your skin as he begins to eat you out.

“Nghh a-ah…” you moan and it drives him completely over the edge and he aggressively moves his tongue into your heat.

His face tilts and you hear his occasional grunts and moans- your legs begin to shake as his pace gets rough and aggressive, he tries to bury his face deeper between your legs.

Gojo tightens his grip on your legs, “ngh mhmm.” He moans against your pussy as he eats you out like a starved man, his tongue skilled yet sloppy as he moves it.

Your walls clench against his tongue and it’s a delicious treat for him.

“hmph- jus’ like candy…” he shamelessly lets out a guttural moan against your wet pussy. His hot breath only stimulates you more.

But as you feel like you’re going to cum, he detaches his mouth from your needy heat- you whine as gojo smirks, his lips all glossy and drool on the corners of his mouth.

Before you can protest he pushes his large fingers into your pussy, you dry out in pleasure as he moves them, his movements smooth, “ooh look at you- a fuckin mess.” He taunts.

He can feel your taste in his tongue.

You taste like candy, it’s so sweet and so addictive, you would think that he’s over exaggerating but it’s true.

You taste like candy.

Your moans are like music as you arch your back at the fast movements of his fingers.

But as soon your walls clench tighter, he pulls his fingers out before licking them lewdly.

“Wanna cum? Admit it then. Admit that I’m the best at eating your pussy.”

You can’t comprehend because you can’t think- you can’t really see. “Nghh yes please I need your mouth please.”

Gojo coos, “oh I know sweet girl.” You’ve finally admitted it.

And so, he buries his face deep inside your cunt once more, moaning against it like a beast in heat.

“Mhmm yeah- nghh mhmp-~ cum f’me darling- cum all over my tongue.”

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foxy-eva · 7 months ago

Text

Afternoon Delight

Summary: You didn’t have sleep in mind when you asked Spencer to take a nap with you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut, Fluff

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) Softdom!Spencer, praising, teasing, grinding, handjob, fingering, rough sex, unprotected penetrative sex

Word count: 2.1k

Masterlist

With a dramatic sigh you closed the laptop in front of you and stretched your arms over your head, announcing, “I need a break!”

Spencer looked up from his book to find your eyes. “Study breaks are very important. You’ll be able to focus a lot better afterwards,” he explained. “Do you want coffee?”

“No,” you said with a smirk forming on your face. “I wanna go lie down with you.”

Spencer obviously did not get the hint and declined, “I’m not tired but you can take a nap if you want.”

You got up from your desk to move over to the couch, sitting down right beside your boyfriend. In an instant you could feel the heat radiating from his body. It was almost ridiculous how much you craved his nearness, even after many months of spending most nights together. There was just something about him that almost drove you insane.

“Did you know that short naps are highly efficient and can help improve productivity. You just have to make sure not to sleep for too long,” he explained in his usual rambling manner. He was still oblivious about your true intentions.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded and winked at him. “What if I took my clothes off for my nap?”

Spencer raised his eyebrows and thought about it for a split second. “Some studies suggest that sleeping naked can have a positive effect on your sleep quality. But knowing you, I’d assume you would get too cold to be comfortable.”

“So, would you help me get warm?” You chirped, hoping that he’d finally understand what you wanted.

His eyebrows furrowed at your question, obviously confused about what you were talking about. “I would,” he said, “but it’s probably easier if you just wore clothes, like you usually do when you sleep.”

Usually it didn’t take this long for Spencer to understand when you wanted him. He’d catch onto your playful tone or simply read your body language. He apparently really took your word for it when you told him earlier that you were determined to get your work done with zero distractions.

But even being in the same room as Spencer was more distracting than you could have ever imagined.

“Can I tell you a secret,” you snickered as you moved even closer to him. “I’m not really tired.”

The poor doctor looked at you more puzzled than ever. “Then why would you want to take a nap?”

There was barely any space between the two of you left at this point. It still took him a few more seconds to interpret your mischievous grin correctly.

“Oh!” He laughed. “You want to sleep with me.”

“Wow, I really need to work on my seduction skills,” you giggled while climbing into Spencer’s lap.

“You’re usually pretty good at it,” he chuckled.

He smiled against your lips when your mouths finally met. With more fervor than you had anticipated he started kissing you, while his hands pulled your hips even closer against his body. His tongue begged for entrance, joining yours in a dance that let heat rush through your entire body.

It only took a few more moments until you felt a familiar hardness straining against his pants.

You started to rock your hips ever so slightly while breathing against his lips, “Seems like it’s working.”

Your boyfriend leaned back to look at you. One of his hands found your face and his fingertips began tracing along your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed. “How could I ever refuse you anything?”

The hunger in his eyes only grew when a timid sigh fell from your lips. He watched intently as you kept grinding against him while the tension in your body only grew. His hardness twitched against your clothed core as you used his body for your own pleasure.

“So needy,” he purred as he watched you moving in his lap.

The friction your motions created was making you desperate but it wasn’t enough for you. Spencer knew that, too. He still wanted to see how long it would take you to start begging for him.

His fingertips were buried into the supple flesh of your hips, keeping you close to him as you started to struggle to keep moving. With your face buried into his neck, he could feel your hot, heavy breath against his skin.

It was too much and not enough for you at the same time. The lace of your underwear was soaked with your essence at this point. You felt like you might combust if you didn’t find release anytime soon.

“Please,” you finally whispered into his ear, desperate for him to take over.

“What is it, my sweet girl?” He chuckled as he leaned back to find your eyes. “What do you need?”

The smirk on his face revealed that he knew exactly what you needed. He just wanted to hear you say it.

“Please… I need you,” you begged.

He found your lips in a kiss, soft and sweet like a silent promise to always take care of you. When he motioned for you to get off his lap, you whined at the loss of pressure against your center.

“I know, love,” he cooed. “Just be patient for me.”

Your legs felt weak when you stood in front of him, waiting for his next move. He got up from the couch and took your hand, leading you to the bedroom, where he slowly began undressing you. The second your bra dropped to the floor, his fingers began toying with your nipples. His thumbs brushed over your hardened peaks while he kissed you again.

You really tried to be good for him while he took care of you but it became almost too much. You took a few steps back to lean against the closest wall, your knees suddenly couldn’t be trusted to hold you upright anymore. Spencer followed without a comment, clearly enjoying witnessing your desperation.

His hands were still on your breasts, caressing them just the way he knew you liked. When his palms finally descended further down your body, a relieved sigh fell from your lips. He removed the remaining pieces of clothing until you stood completely nude in front of him.

“You’re such a good girl,” he murmured against your neck. “So patient with me.”

Hearing his praise aroused you even more and you could feel your desire dripping down your inner thighs. You knew it wouldn’t be long now until he’d let you feel him. He took a step back to let his eyes roam over your body while he undid the buttons of his shirt.

“You’re so handsome,” you mumbled and noticed a rosy shade spreading over his cheeks as he kept undressing.

When he finally revealed his body to you, you could barely take your eyes off him. Closing the distance once more, your hand dared to make contact with his cock. Spencer’s eyes widened at your touch and it became obvious that he struggled to keep up his demeanor. He would never admit it but he was just as desperate as you were.

His hardness felt hot and heavy against your palm and his tip was already leaking when you began moving your hand. Spencer’s breath hitched right before a moan escaped his throat, a sound so sinful it almost drove you insane. He indulged in the sensation a few more moments before he took over the situation once more.

“Get on the bed,” he demanded with a firm tone and you did as he said.

However, when you lay down on the mattress he shook his head. “No, I want you on your knees.”

You didn’t need further instruction to know exactly how he wanted you. You turned around, got on your knees and bent over, your forearms pressing into the mattress. Heat rushed to your face when you took in the position he wanted you in, aware of the view you gave him.

He stood right behind you when he purred, “So pretty. I love seeing you like this.”

His hand made contact with your backside, grabbing your flesh before descending down to your cunt. Your glistening folds were so sensitive that your entire body trembled at the sudden contact. He let his fingertips glide through your slit before focussing on your already swollen nub.

“You’re dripping wet and I have barely touched you.”

You were already too far gone to even respond to that. A fit of moans fell from your lips and you buried your face into the sheets to stifle the sounds. Spencer’s free hand found your hair and gently tugged on it to turn your head.

“Don’t hide those beautiful moans from me. I want to hear what I do to you.”

When he finally entered you with two of his fingers, you couldn’t help but grind your hips back against his hand. He curled his digits inside you, pushing against your walls to finally help you fall over the edge. As much as you loved feeling his fingers inside of you, you were still desperate to feel more of him.

You needed all of him. It was impossible to wait any longer.

“Please,” you pleaded once more. “Please, Spencer.”

“What do you need, my love?” This time his question seemed genuine.

“I need you,” you mumbled. “Need you inside me.”

“I am inside you,” he teased with a playful tone in his voice.

“No,” you whined. “I need your cock!”

The crudeness of your words shocked and excited the both of you at the same time. Spencer finally gave in, granting you what you had been begging for all along. He removed his hand and positioned himself behind you before he let his tip glide through your folds to cover himself with your arousal.

Then, without another warning, he pushed into you with one swift motion. He didn’t give you time to adjust to the intrusion, instead he instantly began fucking you with a ruthless pace. His hands gripped your hips to keep you in place. His fingertips were buried into your skin so deeply, you were sure to find bruises tomorrow.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned. “Feels so good.”

He gave you exactly what you needed, pushing into you over and over again until your mind was completely blank. You couldn’t think about anything but him, how he handled your body, how he filled you out so deliciously, how only him could make you feel so good. The pressure inside you grew as the room filled with your moans and the filthy sounds of your bodies colliding.

“You love it when I take you from behind, don’t you my sweet girl?”

“Yes!” you cried as you started dancing along the brink of euphoria. Even though you could barely take his forceful thrusts, you still wanted more. “Harder!”

The entire bed shook under the force of his motions until he felt your walls tighten around him. With a few more skillful strokes he pushed you over the edge, feeling you pulsing around his erection as your orgasm washed over you. Spencer slowed down to let you ride out your high, watching how your entire body trembled with pleasure.

When he slipped out of you, he was still painfully hard. As pleasurable as this position was for the both of you, he craved your nearness more than to find quick release.

Spencer Reid was a romantic after all.

“Can you turn around for me, please,” he cooed.

You did as he said and welcomed your boyfriend on top of you. His demeanor had changed when he entered you again, his motions were slower but still purposeful. His facial features were soft and his eyes filled with adoration for you. You wrapped your legs and arms around him to keep him impossibly close before capturing his lips in a soft kiss.

“I love you,” he breathed against your lips.

“I love you more.”

It didn’t take long for Spencer’s movements to get erratic as he got close to his own climax.

“I’m so close,” he sighed. “You feel so good.”

You ground your hips against his, intensifying his thrusts. You kissed his lips once more before whispering, “Come inside me.”

That was all it took for him. His body began quivering as he throbbed inside you, sharing his warmth with you until he had nothing left to give. After he caught his breath, he gently moved a strand of hair out of your face before softly kissing your forehead, your nose, your cheeks and finally, your lips.

You still held him close inside your arms, refusing to let him go just yet. Your bodies were still connected even after he had gone soft. Spencer tried to move but you didn’t let him, still craving to have him close.

“Just a little bit longer,” you sighed.

“I’ll stay for as long as you need me to.”

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

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2K notes · View notes

sailornymph · 27 days ago

Text

‘ALL FOR ME’

naruto dilfs with younger s/o

cw : nsfw, age gap (reader is 21-23, they are 30+), implied size difference, etc.

authors note : wow i am really appreciative of the followers and requests i have already received, welcome! and thank you :)

not hcs just short pieces that i came up with :)

♡︎ kakashi hatake

dipping your feet in the lake, you laid back, book in your hands. the sun felt so comforting, shining down on your skin. your dress pulled up above your knees, your toes buried in the rocks — a ticklish sensation on your ankles from the small fish swimming by.

“you shouldn’t be this far out, alone,” you heard, making you sit up, and turning around.

kakashi, always trying to look cool and nonchalant, stood, leaning against the tree, his arms crossed. playfully rolling your eyes, you stepped out of the water, approaching him.

“i thought you had to train your students today,” you raised your eyebrow at him.

“i did, then i found out you carelessly came out here alone”

“so you came after me?”

“i’m here, aren’t i?”

“how do i know i’m not talking to one of your clones, or someone pretending to be you?” you squinted. you were only a bookstore owner after all, and you oftentimes struggled to determine what or who was a clone — despite kakashi attempting to teach you.

shaking his head, he approached you, pulling down his mask. snaking his arm around your waist, he stared into your eyes for a moment.

“when did you start to read icha icha?” he asked, making your eyes widen in embarrassment. glancing at the book pressed against your chest.

“you left it at my place, so i decided to see what you liked about it,” you said, as he smirked.

“i assume you’ve liked what you’ve read?”

“i-yes, it’s not bad,” you nodded, shyly, but he lifted your head.

“who knew girls like you could become such perverts?” he laughed.

“don’t say things like that,” you shook your head.

“ah, i thought you were trying to figure out if i was a clone?” he smiled.

“i don’t think a clone would have shown me your face,” you said, as he hummed, pulling you close into a hug.

“i‘ve found myself missing you,” he admitted. he had been on mission after mission with team seven and hardly given any time to visit you or your small bookstore.

“i missed you too, are you okay?” you asked worriedly.

“don't worry about me, let’s focus on you, what did you do while i was away?”

“i worked and hung with a few friends,” you said, he nodded, turning you around. your ass pressing against his body, his hand on your abdomen.

“did you hook up with any of these friends?” he asked, his breath on your neck, making you clench your legs together.

“no, i meant what i told you,” you said, your breathing becoming heavy.

“that you’re all for me? what’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“i can’t take this pressure,” you pushed back harder against him.

“oh? then let’s relief some of this pressure?”

“show me where it is,” he whispered.

reaching for his hand, you placed it onto your cunt, moaning as he pressed down on your clothed clit. throwing your head back onto his shoulder, your whispered his name.

“oh kakashi”

“have you hook up with anyone?” you hesitantly asked.

“never, not when i have my lovely bookworm, but let’s continue with this pressure, is it here?” he asked, massaging your clit.

“yes,” you eagerly shook your head.

“we’ll have to fix that, won’t we? you were already being a dirty girl reading my book, you don’t mind if we handle your issue here, use your words, sweetheart”

“please don’t stop touching me,” you begged, as he lifted up your dress, his fingers slipped into your panties.

“you’re already this wet? you’re excited aren’t you?”

“kakashi, i want it,” you groaned, reaching to lightly squeeze his cock. groaning in your ear, he pulled out his hand to unbuckle his pants, while you removed the panties.

stroking himself a few times, he slowly slid into your pussy. standing tall behind you, he held your hips, as he slowly thrusted his cock deeper. reaching to hold his arm, you covered your mouth muffling your moans.

holding your waist, he helped you lower to the grass, taking off his vest in the process, for you to kneel on it instead. your eyes rolled back as he continued thrusting, lowly panting.

“kakashi, i’m so close,” you cried, the sound of skin clapping being drowned out by the waterfall.

lifting your body up, pressing your back against his chest, he continued thrusting, squeezing your breast, just as his cum began to paint your walls.

pulling out, you looked back at him, kissing his lips, his hands still holding your breast, when he froze.

“get dressed, someone is coming,” he ordered.

scampering to fix your appearances, the both of you sat near the water, opening your books, just as kakashi began to lift his mask over his mouth.

“there he is,” sakura screamed.

“where were you, sensei?” naruto yelled.

“and what are you doing?” sasuke frowned, noticing both of you sitting with a book in your lap.

“i forgot i agreed to join the local bookclub, i figured i would show my face, since we are back in the village,” kakashi shrugged.

“i know you, you own that bookstore next to the flower shop,” sakura pointed.

“yes, my name is y/n,” you smiled at the children.

“miss y/n, you look a bit young to be around someone as old as kakashi sensei”

“yeah, you better not be a pervert old man”

“how old are you, actually?” all three children spoke at the same time, kakashi’s face burning in embarrassment.

“i am an adult, kakashi isn’t that much older than me, and we aren’t doing anything, your sensei is just a very, very good reader,” you said, making eye contact with him.

“then can we join this book club?” naruto asked curiously.

“absolutely not,” kakashi finally spoke, before you could say anything else.

“but-

“how about you three beat me back to the academy, the winners will be treated to ramen,” he continued.

“deal, bye y/n,” naruto screamed, running back towards the village, sakura and sasuke following.

“will i see you tonight?” he asked.

“you will,” you nodded.

“see you then, sweetheart”

♡︎ jiraiya

the pervy sage, you could remember the first time you met him. you and another chūnin were sent by the hokage to bring information to naruto. as your partner went to bring the scroll to the boy who had the nine-tailed fox sealed in him, you could feel a pair of eyes lingering on your figure.

turning your head, you raised your eyebrow at the older man, who shamelessly gawked at you, until naruto yelled.

“hey, you old perv, stop looking at y/n like that,” he yelled, before smiling at you.

“sorry about that, y/n,” he called, as you approached.

“it's alright, naruto, how is your training coming along?”

“i’m much stronger, each day i get closer and closer to becoming hokage, believe it,” he cheered.

“i believe you,” you nodded, laughing.

“how about you? is it true that you're going to try to become a jōnin?”

“if kakashi is free to help me train,” you nodded.

“how about the pervy sage helps you-

“oh no, naruto, i can't impose,” you began to shake your head.

“he doesn't mind, do you, pervy sage? and y/n is already pretty strong, but you can just make sure she is ready for her test,” he said, his eyes going from you to the older man.

“i-

“you don't worry about naruto, he’s always trying to help others, if kakashi doesn't train me, i could always ask asuma or kurenai-

“no you don't get it, the pervy sage is one of the sannin,” naruto bragged as your eyes widened, going to the older man, who stood, profusely blushing.

“i am sure i could make time to train you,” he managed to say.

“oh now you’re all shy,” naruto yelled.

“really? i don’t want to take away time for naruto-

“no, it’s alright, i will be picking up missions soon and this old man doesn’t have a life, he can make time for the both of us”

“is that true?” you asked, smiling as he sheepishly nodded.

“of that’s wonderful, i can’t wait to start,” you clapped, gasping, before bowing, thanking him.

“we have to go, i’ll be in touch,” you waved, as you and your partner left.

it wasn't much longer before you were training, sometimes alongside naruto, other times it was just you and jiraiya. you grew stronger, but training with jiraiya was also the beginning of something addicting and you found yourself unable to get enough of — the toad sage himself.

“go away, i don’t want to talk to you,” you pouted, crossing your arms, as jiraiya stood outside of your house, with a small bouquet.

“don’t be like that, princess-

“you were my sensei for the last three months and you couldn’t even come to see me become a jōnin,” you frowned.

“i had important business”

“more important than your girlfriend’s graduation? or do you even care about me? naruto was right, you’re just an old perv and i can’t believe i trusted you and gave you my body. you disgusting-

before you could finish, he dropped the flowers, his hand pressing against your mouth, stopping you from speaking. stepping forward, he easily pushed his way into your small house, before he shut the door behind himself.

“let’s not say cruel things we don’t mean,” he smiled, lightly pinching your cheek, as he pulled away.

“where were you?” you asked him, sadly.

“shopping”

“that’s what was so important? you were shopping, wow,” you said, trying to process what he had just told you.

“i didn’t think i would need to go to two different villages, to find this,” he reached into his pocket, for the delicate jewelry. a lovely sight to see, the beautiful red rubies were cut perfectly, for the dainty necklace.

“you missed my graduation for a neckl-

“a graduation gift for the sexy little jōnin, miss y/n,” he interrupted.

“oh,” you said, your face burning with embarrassment.

“you will be away on plenty of missions, so i figured, i would give you a piece of me to have with you,” he said, as he made you spin around. his hand pressing your body against his chest, slowly traveling up, before unclamping the necklace, placing it around your neck, and closing it.

“it’s beautiful, thank you, i love it,” you smiled, going to the mirror to examine it. slowly making his way behind you, he massaged your hips.

“you look incredibly sexy in red”

“red is your color, people may begin to think i am copying you since you trained me-

“or that i’ve made my claim before anyone else could,” he said. he was practically drooling, as he watched your body.

“maybe,” you shyly agreed. after all this time, you still couldn’t take his shamelessness.

“tell me, my little jōnin, are you all for me?” He asked, pulling you back into his embrace, his large hand resting on your lower back.

“y-yes”

“are you still upset with me?” he tilted his head, grinning as you shook your head.

“then kiss me,” he instructed, your eyes searching for his face.

standing on your toes, you were nearly climbing up a tree, to kiss his lips. swiftly picking you up, his tongue slipped into your mouth, your fingers going to long white tresses. moving from your mouth to your neck, you moaned, holding his head closer.

“don’t stop, sensei, i want more,” you moaned, breathlessly.

“such a needy girl,” he grinned, his tongue brushing against your sensitive skin.

carrying you upstairs to your bedroom, you were plopped onto the bed with ease. squeezing your thighs together, you watched as jiraiya undressed. he always praised you for your looks and body, but he was amazingly attractive and fit for his age.

“when did you become such a little perv?” he asked, stroking himself. you could see the precum already leaking out, as his cock grew harder.

“i learned from the best,” you bit your lip. as excited as you were, you were also nervous. as many times as he had fucked you, and you still weren’t use to his size.

“hey, don’t be nervous pretty girl, do you trust me?” he asked, smiling as you nodded.

“good, i’ll take care of you,” he reassured you, pulling off your panties, leaning down to place a single kiss on your clit, before getting up, continuing to stroke himself. aligning with your entrance, he slowly pushed himself in.

arching your back, your body began to relax at his sweet words of adoration and reassurance. interlocking your fingers with his much larger hand, he brought your fingers to his lips.

“you’re already a whimpering mess and i hardly touched you, princess,” he laughed, remaining still, allowing your cunt to take as much as she saw fit.

“ji-raiya, y’re s-so big,” you moaned.

“and you’re so tight, you’re squeezing the tip of my cock,” he hummed.

pulling his large hands, you moved them to your breast, biting your lip, as he lightly squeezed them.

“fuck me, please,” you told him, your mouth instantly in an ‘o’ shape, as he pushed his cock in deeper.

watching himself fucking your pussy, barely able to fit, stretching your little cunt out, he wouldn’t last long before he was cumming.

“it’s amazing how you can go from being a feisty little jōnin, to a cute pillow princess, you’re amazing,” jiraiya moaned, as he continued thrusting into your cunt. both of your moans filling the walls.

“i’m close, i think i’m close-oh kami,” your eyes rolled back, your leg shaking, as you clenched around him repeatedly, your cum coating his big cock.

“almost there princess,” he whispered, doing a few more thrust, before he was pulling out, stroking himself.

sitting up, you slid to the floor, sticking your tongue out. letting his semen squirt all over your tongue, you swallowed it, sucking his tip, as if it was a lollipop.

“i think i’m going to miss you when you’re away on these missions,” he admitted, hovering over your body. he was a tower compared to you.

“aw, i promise i’ll make it up to you each time, i’m back,” you replied, reaching for his jaw, kissing his lips. who knew you would fall for a pervy old sage, but you couldn’t get enough of him, and had no intention of leaving him alone, for the time being.

♡︎ hashirama senju

“the final exam will take place in three months from now, from this moment on train as hard as you can, for your tournaments, many will be watching you, i wish you all the best of luck, you are free to leave,” you announced to the genin. watching as the young shinobi cheered, you huffed in exhaustion.

since being placed over the genin and chūnin exams, you had been exhausted, constantly working — courtesy of hashirama, of course. perhaps it was his way of keeping you from going on missions.

“y/n,” you turned hearing your name being called.

“izuna, when did you get back?” you smiled.

“this morning, did you do something? the hokage hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you started speaking,” he laughed. turning, your eyes widened as you made eye contact with hashirama. his straight face remained, but you could see his posture relax.

“he probably just doesn’t want me to mess up,” you said.

“i doubt he thought you would mess up, it’s your first year as a jōnin and you were chosen to instructed the very first exams, i wouldn’t be surprised if he offered you to become a sensei of the new school,” he teased.

“oh please, let’s talk about madara, glaring at you for talking to me. you know you aren’t supposed to associate with us outsiders,” you snickered, but he rolled his eyes.

“most of the pupils are uchiha, it’s only right that i’m here, and when isn’t madara grumpy? i’m just saying hello to an old friend-

“y/n, the hokage would like a word with you, when you are finished,” tobirama interrupted. the look of disdain and disgust as he briefly eyed izuna. you nodded, glancing at the uchiha, as the senju brother left.

“sorry about him, hashi-the hokage has been trying to help stop his brother with these negative feelings-

“it is alright, y/n, i should go, we have to guarantee all uchiha students get into this school,” he told you, walking away.

“i’m sure they will,” you called out. turning around, you were surprised to see the hokage gone.

raising an eyebrow, you made your way to the hokage residence. a few shinobi stood around, as you made your way to the main office. gulping, you hoped there weren’t too many men inside. it wasn’t common for women to become a shinobi, let alone a jōnin at only twenty three. truthfully, if it wasn’t for your secret relationship with the first hokage, you wouldn’t get half of the respect that you already received.

knocking softly on the door, you opened it, freezing seeing the few men standing close to the desk.

“i was told you asked to see me,” you bowed.

“yes, leave us,” he said, watching as they all left, shutting the door behind themselves. almost as if he could sense them, he didn't make a move until they were completely out of the residence. a large smile appeared on his lips, as he stood up.

“you were wonderful with the children, they will make excellent shinobi,” he said, as you rose from your bow.

“thank you, lord first,” you said, as he approached you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“even with you being over the exams, i miss you too frequently, maybe i should give you something less demanding,” he said.

“about that, after this year’s exams, i’d like to go back to accepting missions,” you said, trying to have a serious conversation with him, but he was too busy, taking in your scent, as his hands explored your body.

“i’m afraid your request will have to be denied, tobirama and i were thinking making you a sensei at the academy that will be opening,” he said, making you gasp.

“izuna was right-

“when did you and izuna uchiha get so close?”

“hashi, this isn’t right, i am the only woman jōnin in this village-

“and that is even more why you should become a sensei, little girls will see you and know that they have a chance to do the same thing,” he said. as true as that statement was, you knew that wasn’t why he wanted you to become a teacher, instead of taking missions.

“is that what you’re telling yourself? you and i both know you’re keeping me here so i can be near you, and it isn’t fair, you have a wife, hashi. i shouldn’t have to put my career on pause because-

“i worry about you, every time that you are away. i trust that you are strong, but i don’t know who could be your opponent. you can still protect konoha as a sensei, and i can protect you. as for my marital status it is irrelevant, you are all for me, are you not? hm, sunshine?” he asked, smiling at you.

“yes,” you nodded. as much as you wanted to be angry, it was hard to resist him, when he had such a cute, goofy smile.

“good, i like the uchiha clan, but not enough to share you,” he admitted, leaning down to kiss your lips.

“i won’t be a good sensei,” you said, breathlessly, as he moved down to your neck, his hands swiftly opening your kimono.

“you will, the very best, it is for your safety and my peace of mind,” he said, allowing you to open his kimono, your hands brushing against his toned abdomen and chest.

“you’re a selfish man, senju,” you moaned, as you stepped out of your undergarments, your kimono falling off your shoulders.

“i am, when it comes to those i care about,” he agreed, lifting your leg. his cock pressing against your pussy. groaning, he pulled you closer, biting down on your neck.

“i don’t know if i should thank you or scream at you,” you bit make your moans, his cock rubbing back and forth between your legs.

“you should do as i say and let me protect you, as your hokage and your-” he paused, his face turning red.

“my lover?” you tilted your head, smirking, as he nodded.

“just this once,” you gave in, moaning as he kissed your lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

stroking his cock a few more times, he pushed himself into your cunt. throwing your head back, you moaned out, as he left a trail of passion marks on your neck. you stood on your toes, as he held one of your legs in his arms, driving his cock deep into your pussy. his pussy.

you were his, only his. no one else could ever fuck you like he could. not a uchiha, and certainly not any ordinary shinobi. the way you slurred his name, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. the way you became angry at him, saying small remarks as if you would cut ties with him. the way you claimed to want so much independence, and became a whiny baby when he protected you instead. you were just as wrapped around his fingers as he was to yours.

“hashi, i’m going to-i’m going to cum,” you moaned.

“so pretty and tight for me,” he panted, speaking in a hushed tone.

“just like that, hashi,” you whined, as his hand went to your neck, thrusting faster, as he lightly squeezed.

“y/n,” he hissed, his cock twitching, his thrust becoming more sloppy and uneven.

“cum in me hashi,” you purred, rubbing your hands up his chest.

nodding his head, concentration in his eyes, he kept thrusting, before holding you close, his cum filling you up, before he pulled out.

“i hope everyone has left for the evening,” you sighed, fidgeting with your clothing, as you began to redress. it was one thing to deal with sexism from men who were weaker than you, but to deal with a rumor that held truth, that would be the end of you.

“don’t worry about any of them, and when you take on your role as sensei i will make sure it stays that way, don’t give me that look, they will give you respect, not just because you’re with me, but you are their superior,” he said.

“okay,” you nodded.

“shall i walk you home?”

“i think i can manage from here, lord first,” you bit your lip, as he pulled you closer, once more.

“then i shall see you in the morning, to discuss your future role?”

“yes, i will be here,” you nodded.

“then goodnight, my sunshine,” he kissed your lips.

“goodnight, hashi,” you quickly bowed, making your way home for the night.

♡︎ minato namikaze

“he’s too old for you and you shouldn’t tell anyone else about it, it might cause trouble,” your best friend, mei told, as he walked you to work.

“i know, i can’t help it though, isn’t he dreamy?” you spun around, squealing in his face.

“he is probably the best looking hokage, but i’m serious, who knows the drama it might bring, or even danger,” he said, as you finally stopped in front of the hokage’s office.

“i know, you’re right,” you slumped your shoulders.

“hey, after work, i’ll treat you to ramen, okay?”

“and desert?” you pouted.

“and desert,” he laughed, before you were making your way inside the building.

who knew the internship as secretary would cause such trouble. you didn’t expect the hokage to be as charming as he was, to be as handsome up close as he was, to eat pussy as good as he does — the taboo relationship, as mei called it, would cause issues, but why is it that you couldn’t bring yourself to care?

he was nearly a decade older, recently separated from his wife and they shared a son. why is it you couldn’t care about how scandalous it would be for the two of you? how you could become a target if anyone found out about you being his little secret.

going to sit at your desk, you began to organize the paperwork that had been given left on your desk. “good morning,” you spoke to the shinobi, as they left the hokage’s office.

the time went by painfully slow, minato nowhere to be seen. although you were certain he was in his office, plenty of shinobi coming and going out of the double doors. checking your lipstick in your small mirror, you stood up, leaving a note that you were on your lunch break, before knocking, then entering the room.

he sat at the desk, reading through the papers, when his eyes shifted to yours. you smiled, but he kept a straight face, going back to reading.

“i haven’t seen you all morning,” you mumbled.

“i’ve been busy”

“too busy to even say good morning, that is unlike you,” you said, locking the door, approaching the desk.

“unlock the door”

“i want to talk”

“i have work-

“what is the matter with you, why are you acting like this, minato?” you pouted.

“who was that boy you were talking with, this morning? the one who is taking you out for ramen after work,” he said, jealousy all over his face. stopping in your tracks, you covered your mouth, trying to hold in your laugh.

“go on, laugh, did you want to be able to tell your friends what you've done with the hokage, and then get with a guy your age?” he asked, making you stop laughing.

“that was mei, we’re only friends, he’s handsome, but he already has a boyfriend,” you said, crossing your arms, as the crimson tint appeared on his cheeks.

“i see, i may have misinterpreted what i saw, i apologize,” he said.

“he doesn’t think i should be seeing you, you’re too old for me”

“oh,” he says, sheepishly.

“i told him i knew he was right”

“oh,” his eyes widened, realizing where this was headed.

“but lord fourth, can i ask you a question?”

“of course,” he nodded.

“why do i not care?” you pouted, as you walked around his desk, leaning on it, in front of him.

“i’ve been asking myself the same thing,” he admitted.

“he says there will be rumors, and i could become a target, if anyone found out-

“i will protect you,” he interrupted, shaking his head.

“how can i believe that when you were ready to shut me out over your assumptions,” you looked away from him, as he stood up.

“and i apologize for that love, but i will keep you safe, i just let my jealousy get in the way,” he said, lightly grabbing your jaw, and turning your head back to him.

staring at him for a moment, you couldn’t hold back anymore, your pussy had been getting even wetter, the longer he stared at you with those blue eyes. pecking his lips, he smiled, pulling you closer to kiss you again.

his hands trailing down, he began to pull up your dress, while you reached to lower your panties. quickly moving his papers to the side, lifting you onto the desk.

“so perfect and all for me,” he said, in between each kiss.

“i need you so bad,” you whimpered, as he unbuttoned his pants, reaching to stroke himself. grabbing your thighs, he pulled you to the edge of the desk, before pushing into your wet hole.

burying your face in his shirt, you moaned, your arms going around his neck. “so good,” he whispered in your ear, slowly grinding his hips.

“more, minato, i need more,” you whimpered to him.

“you have to be quiet love, someone might hear you,” he smirked, holding your hips, as he thrusted deeper.

“fuck, it’s so good,” you cried, pressing your mouth deeper into his shirt to muffle your moans.

“we have to be quick, i have a something coming up, fuck me back,” he said, grabbing your waist, lifting you, and sitting in his chair.

holding onto his arms, you began bouncing in his lap. he bit his lip, his cheeks rosy as ever, lowly moaning. with each thrust, you clenched around him, drawing closer and closer to his orgasm.

“i’m cumming,” he said, his hands going to your ass, squeezing as you continued bouncing. grunting ruggedly, he pulled you close, kissing your lips, just as you came.

“is that a good enough apology, my love?” he asked, his hand going to rest on your cheek.

“i suppose it will do for now,” you said, accepting his kiss, before pulling away.

“i will be out for about an hour or so, how about you run home and freshen up and after work instead of going get ramen with your friend, you join me instead?” he asked.

“okay,” you agreed, trying to bite back your smile.

fixing your clothing and hair, going to leave his office, just as you were opening the door, kushina could be seen approaching.

“hello,” she smiled at you. you returned the smile, but couldn’t deny the jealousy brewing in your heart.

handing the small child to her ex husband, she was soon on her way out, as you pathetically sulked.

“don’t you start with the jealousy too, we’re not together, it’s just my turn to take naruto to the doctor,” he reassured you, winking.

“naruto, have you met y/n?” he asked his son, who shook his head.

“hi, you’re pretty,” he smiled.

“she is, isn’t she?” minato grinned, his eyes lingering on you, before walking away with the small boy.

grabbing your purse, you tried to calm yourself down, pressing your hand against your stomach. you knew that look from anywhere, tonight would be a continuation of what had happened only minutes ago, and you couldn’t wait.

♡︎ orochimaru

a pawn. you were nothing more than a pawn to him. the womb of a beautiful youthful woman, meant to help him procreate, to provide a legacy, outside of his clones.

how could you be such a fool? to think a man of his caliber, who was wise beyond your years would want anything serious with you. you would bear his child, then what? tossed to the side, or worse, killed.

you couldn’t stay here, not when you now knew his goal. maybe you could seek refuge in another village? you weren’t as vital as certain people to him, leaving room for the conceivable idea, that he wouldn't care. you could be replaced by the next girl he came across.

“and where do you think you're going?” you could practically hear the smirk on his face. gulping down the fear that was creeping up your throat, you faced him.

“i’m leaving,” you said, you could feel yourself shrinking, as he approached.

“without an announcement, or even saying bye?” he tilted his head. lowering your head, he simply lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his own.

“i didn't want-i don't think i want to see you anymore, orochimaru,” you said. although, you hated how your statement came out sounding too much like a question. his smirk widened, humming at your lack of formality.

“oh, is that so?” he said, a dark chuckle escaping his lips.

“you used me, i gave myself to you, and you made me into one of your experiments. i refuse to be a part of this,” you frowned. he stared at you for a moment, before laughing aloud.

“you're forgetting one thing,” he said, his snake-like tongue swiping across his lip.

“you are no captive, you came here willingly, you accepted all of my advances, gave up your pretty little pussy, you've even been a good spy for me. whatever village you go to, i wonder what will think when they find out, i’m sure someone will eventually recognize you,” he continued, snaking his arm around your waist.

“no,” you cried, shaking your head.

“oh yes, my darling,” he nodded, tauntingly.

“this isn't fair,” you cried, letting him lay your head on his chest.

“life isn't fair, but you, my dear, are a greedy little vixen, you want more than you deserve. i have mentored you, guided you, protected you, fucked you as much as you wanted, but once you hear of my desires, you're running off without another word. however, if you think you are better off without me, i will not stop you,” he said, suddenly turning away, his smirk widening.

“wait, i-i didn't mean it,” you called out, the fear of what could happen to you setting in.

“oh, but you did, you don't like it here and i don't need another prisoner-

“no i do, i was scared of the unknown, is all,” you rushed to say.

“apologize to me and i will consider it,” he said, turning back to face you.

“i'm sorry, sensei, you’re right, i have been selfish,” you said fidgeting with your fingers.

“good girl, there is nothing be scared of, you will look exceptional, your belly swollen with my offspring, you can do that for me?” he asked.

“yes, lord orochimaru,” you said, smiling as he pat your head.

“fear is normal, nevertheless, speaking to me as if i am of your equivalent, you will not go unpunished,” he said, his smirk dropping.

biting your lip, nervously, you nodded your head, reaching for the bottom of your dress. you could take whatever punishment he saw fit, it it meant you could stay in the safety of his hideout.

“oh, kami-

“the gods cannot save you from me,” he grinned, fucking deeper and deeper, as you laid across your bed.

“sensei, please-

“is my cock too much for your pretty little pussy?”

“yes, i-ah”

“you can hardly speak, although, i prefer when you don’t speak, just keep taking my cock like the little vixen you are,” he grunted.

“yes daddy,” you moaned, sending a wave through his body. daddy, he never thought such a stupid title would arouse him to this point.

“i’m cumming,” you cried, just as orochimaru came in your pussy.

“good girl,” he said lowly, pulling out.

“daddy, am i yours? am i more than a pawn to you?” you asked him, your hand going between your legs, dragging your fingers across his semen, before bringing it to your lips.

“you’re all for me and worth much more than you think, get ready for bed, you’ll need the energy tomorrow,” he told you, leaving the room. his grin dropping, as he became further away. ‘that was a close one’, he thought. if it wasn't for the evidence of his success already developing in your womb, which he only recently realized, he would've killed you instantly, who did you think you were?

although he couldn't deny it, he could still feel his cock hard after hearing you call him daddy.

#kakashi x reader #jiraiya x reader #minato x reader #hashirama x reader #orochimaru x reader #naruto #naruto x reader #kakashi hatake #minato namikaze #hashirama senju

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