#you came here for the writing and I forced you to look at the painting

[fangdokja]

i keep rereading your yan marine corps! x fem reader. what was reader's role that she had to follow the marine's... adventure?

"You’ll never escape me—not when I’m the only one keeping you alive."

❤︎ Synopsis. In a world where death is mercy and survival means suffering, he claims you as his, promising protection through fear, control, and a twisted love that will leave you questioning if escape was ever truly possible.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured (AHD) : A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Marine Corps x Fem. Reader

♡ Oneshot. #2 - The Devil Who Saved You

♡ Word Count. 3,153

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non-con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats, descriptions of gore and human suffering, themes of violence and dystopia

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving minors, some plot details of the original story were changed to fit the platform. If you want the true original story, please look at the author's official website or Ao3.

♡ A/N. I'm glad you enjoyed it :)). I'm surprised you're rereading it a bunch. But, I guess people do technically reread anyway. Sorry, slipped out of my mind. It just makes me happy seeing underrated works get credit, whether fandom or other stories I've written. So, thank you. Anyways. Technically, this was an ask. But it's a nice idea, and I've already had it in my drafts since before. I was just postponing lore dump with Yandere! Marine Corps, due to other works. Anyways. All I knew before, in all honesty, is that it's war time. But, time to pull out the fantasy skills and world build! Wooh! And to be honest, I'm hungry to write some gore crumbs like my familiar writing style, ahh. So, here, I present to you lore backstory (well technically part of the backstory). Hope you all enjoy it (also, sorry I talk a lot in notes).

♡ Music. Levee & Brick (Down to This) by Graffiti Ghosts

The world had fallen into an abyss so deep it seemed there was no end to its descent. The wars that came before—those waged for borders, ideologies, or resources—were merely preludes to this ultimate collapse. What erupted now was not war; it was annihilation. A calamity that turned cities into craters and humanity into prey. Every shred of civility burned away in the endless fires of desperation. The air was thick with the ash of the old world, a grim veil that painted the skies an eternal gray.

You had lived a different life once, one of relative normalcy in the dwindling days before the collapse. Back then, you had a future, a purpose, something as simple and human as hope. But that had been stripped away when the world’s powers unleashed devastation so complete it birthed horrors no living creature could comprehend. Technology had become a weapon of eradication, bioweapons and nanotech turning survivors into deformed creatures of flesh and steel, feral and mindless, hunting whatever moved. Rogue factions—remnants of militaries, mercenaries, and scavengers—rose like carrion birds, preying on the remnants of humanity.

In this hellscape, survival was no longer a matter of luck but of submission. Submission to those strong enough to carve their will into the earth and impose their dominion. He was one of those few. A towering force of unyielding violence, a soldier molded by decades of carnage, by a war that had reshaped him from a man into something closer to a machine of flesh and blood. The United Corps, once a venerated military institution, had fractured into splinter groups, each operating like a self-contained warlord’s regime. He was among their best—a leader, an executioner, a strategist, and now your captor.

You were assigned to him by pure chance—or perhaps cruel design. In this new order, value wasn’t measured by money or power but by the usefulness of flesh and mind. And you had been marked as useful. Perhaps it was your background—your knowledge, your resilience, or simply the misfortune of catching his attention when your convoy was intercepted by his unit. The corps didn’t merely take prisoners; they assessed, dissected, and consumed whatever remnants of humanity they deemed salvageable.

And he deemed you salvageable.

There were no illusions about the nature of his claim over you. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t mercy. It was obsession, possessive and cruel, born of a warped sense of necessity. “You belong to me now,” he had told you in that deep, unrelenting tone, the heat of his breath warming your face even as the chill of his words froze your soul. “Out there, they’ll rip you apart for the scraps on your bones. With me, you’ll live—if you behave.”

The battlefield was safer than the no-man’s land outside his dominion. That was the most damning truth. To run from him was to dive into a living nightmare where survival wasn’t a goal but a punishment. Outside his protection, death was not granted quickly.

You’d seen it. You’d heard the screams echoing through the wastelands, watched the crude factories churn with suffering. He’d forced you to look once, pressing your face against the window of a blood processing plant as tears streaked down your cheeks. “This is what’s waiting for you if you run,” he had whispered, his voice devoid of sympathy. “With me, you’re mine. Out there, you’re theirs. Decide.”

────────────

The smell hit you first. It wasn’t just the copper tang of blood; it was the rancid stench of rotting flesh mixed with chemicals—formaldehyde, acid, and something sour that clawed at the back of your throat. You gagged, instinctively raising a trembling hand to cover your nose, but he was quicker. His large, calloused fingers wrapped around your wrist, dragging your arm back down with enough force to make you whimper.

“Don’t look away,” he growled, his voice low and gravelly, vibrating like a distant explosion. “You need to see this.”

You didn’t want to see. You didn’t! But he held you there, his unyielding grip on your wrist a silent command. He stood just behind you, close enough that his breath fanned across the back of your neck, hot and suffocating.

The factory loomed before you like the mouth of some great beast, its jagged, rusted metal teeth glinting in the dim light of the sulfur-stained sky. The air outside had been foul, but inside, it was worse—a miasma of decay and despair.

The conveyor belts stretched endlessly, carrying bodies in various states of disassembly. Some were intact, their limbs hanging limply as they were dragged by crude metal hooks. Others were barely recognizable—mangled flesh and shattered bone mashed together in a grotesque parody of humanity. You tried to look away, to focus on the machinery, but even that was a nightmare of grinding gears slick with gore.

A loud, wet squelch drew your attention to a nearby station. A corpse—a woman, or at least what remained of her—was hoisted onto a steel slab. Her eyes were still open, glassy and staring, as if frozen in the moment of her death. A mechanical arm descended, its blade glinting dully under the flickering industrial lights. It carved into her chest with a precision that was almost surgical, splitting her ribcage open to reveal the organs beneath.

You felt bile rise in your throat as another arm extended, pincers gripping her heart. It yanked the organ free with a sickening suction sound, sending a spray of blood across the walls and floor. The heart was deposited into a waiting vat, where it joined dozens of others, floating in a viscous, murky liquid.

“They don’t waste anything,” he said, his tone devoid of emotion, as if he were explaining the workings of a simple machine. “Every part has a purpose. The skin for leather. The bones for tools. The organs for… whatever the hell they need them for.”

Your knees buckled, but he caught you, his arm snaking around your waist to keep you upright. “No,” he hissed, his breath hot and sharp against your ear. “You don’t get to faint. You’re going to watch. You’re going to understand.”

A scream tore through the air, high-pitched and raw, and you realized with horror that some of them weren’t dead. Your eyes darted to the source of the sound, landing on a man thrashing against his restraints as he was dragged toward another station. His legs were gone, severed at the thighs, and the stumps had been crudely cauterized to keep him alive.

“Please,” the man sobbed, his voice hoarse and desperate. “Please, just kill me. Just—”

The blade came down before he could finish, cleaving his remaining arm from his body. His scream turned guttural, the sound of a soul breaking, before it was cut off entirely by a needle plunging into his neck. The liquid injected was thick and black, spreading through his veins like oil. His body convulsed violently for a moment before going still.

You turned your head, choking on a sob, but he gripped your chin and forced you to face the scene again. His fingers dug into your skin, bruising and relentless.

“This is what happens without me,” he said, his voice a low snarl. “You think you can survive out there? Think you can make it without my protection? Look at them!” He shook you slightly, as if to drive the point home. “This is what you are without me—meat.”

Tears streamed down your face, hot and shameful, as you stared at the conveyor belts and the countless bodies reduced to parts. You couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop the nausea that twisted your stomach into knots.

Another scream pierced the air, this one an elder's. Your head snapped toward the sound, and your heart plummeted. A thin figure, frail and sickly, was strapped to a table, his wide, terrified eyes fixed on the approaching machinery.

“No,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “No, no, no…”

The machine didn’t care. The blades descended, and you squeezed your eyes shut, the image burned into your mind even as you tried to block it out.

He didn’t let you escape even that. His hand tightened on your jaw, forcing your eyes open. “Don’t you dare look away,” he growled. “This is reality. This is what’s waiting for you if you run.”

You broke then, sobbing uncontrollably, your body wracked with shuddering breaths. He held you there, unyielding, until you were too weak to fight. Only then did he pull you close, his grip on you shifting from punishing to possessive.

“That’s right,” he murmured, his tone softening in a way that was somehow more terrifying. “You understand now, don’t you? You’re mine. And as long as you’re mine, this will never happen to you.”

His lips brushed against your temple, a mockery of comfort as he whispered, “But if you ever forget, I’ll bring you back here. And I’ll make you watch again.”

────────────

The battlefield stretched like a bleeding wound across the earth, jagged trenches carved into the mud and ash. The remnants of what had once been cities were nothing more than skeletal buildings clawing at the smog-choked sky. The air was thick with the acrid tang of burning fuel and the gut-wrenching stench of charred flesh. Bomb craters bubbled with viscous, oily water that gleamed under the pale, radioactive sun. It was a place where hope had been smothered, where humanity’s last breaths came in choking, gurgling gasps.

He stood before you, his shadow long and oppressive, a monolith of muscle and bloodied steel. His armor—if you could call the piecemeal, blood-streaked remains of his tactical gear armor—clung to him like a second skin, the fabric worn thin and blackened with soot. In his hand, a rifle dangled lazily, as though he didn’t need it. And he didn’t. He was a weapon unto himself, his body and mind honed by decades of violence, cruelty, and war.

“Do you remember this place?” His voice was a low rumble, scraping against your nerves like a blade dragged across bone. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, bore into you with a force that made your knees weak. “Where I found you?”

You nodded faintly, though you didn’t trust your voice enough to speak. Your silence wasn’t just fear—it was a learned response, a survival tactic you’d mastered in the years since he’d claimed you.

“Do you know what they were going to do to you?” He crouched, bringing his face level with yours. His presence was suffocating, his frame dwarfing your own. His voice dropped lower, almost tender, as though sharing a secret. “No, you don’t. You only saw what they let you see. Let me show you the rest.”

He yanked you forward, his grip on your wrist unyielding, and led you toward the edge of the battlefield. The ground squelched beneath your feet, a revolting mixture of mud, blood, and something viscous that you didn’t want to identify. In the distance, the ruins of an old hospital came into view. The building leaned at an unnatural angle, its walls crumbling but still intact enough to conceal the horrors within.

“You’ve seen death,” he said, his tone conversational, as though discussing the weather. “But you haven’t seen what people do when death isn’t enough. When they want to break you first.”

The interior of the hospital reeked of antiseptic and decay. The sterile smell of chemicals clashed with the unmistakable odor of rot. The walls were streaked with dark stains, their origins uncomfortably clear as you stepped over discarded limbs, the flesh marbled with gangrene and crude surgical scars.

In the first room, a soldier lay strapped to a gurney, his body contorted unnaturally. His chest had been split open, ribs wrenched apart like the wings of a grotesque bird. His heart was missing, the cavity where it had once beat filled with a tangled mess of wires and tubing. The machinery whirred softly, pumping fluids through his veins and forcing his lungs to expand and contract in shallow, mechanical breaths. His eyes were still open, rolling wildly in their sockets as they locked onto you.

“He’s alive,” the man behind you whispered, his voice a mix of mockery and menace. “Barely. They like to see how far they can push the human body before it gives out. Sometimes they even stitch people back together, just to see how much more they can take.”

You gagged, your stomach lurching violently, but he grabbed your chin, forcing you to face the horror. “Don’t look away,” he commanded, his tone sharp and unyielding. “You need to understand. This is what was waiting for you.”

He dragged you into another room, this one colder, darker. Rows of tanks filled the space, each containing a murky, greenish fluid that distorted the shapes inside. At first, you thought they were bodies, but as you moved closer, you realized they were something worse. Limbs were fused together in impossible configurations, heads sprouted from torsos without necks, and eyes blinked independently in faces twisted beyond recognition. The creatures floated listlessly, their expressions a grotesque mix of agony and confusion.

“Human experimentation,” he explained, almost lazily. “They weren’t trying to kill you. They were going to use you. Turn you into something like this. A weapon. Or worse—a resource.”

You stumbled backward, but he caught you, his arm curling around your waist with a possessive strength that left no room for escape. He pressed his lips to your ear, his voice a dark caress. “I killed them all for you. Do you see now why you belong to me? Why you owe me your life?”

He pushed you onward, through rooms filled with horrors you couldn’t have imagined in your darkest nightmares. A man impaled on a series of metal rods, his skin flayed back to expose muscle and bone, still breathing through a series of tubes jammed into his throat. A woman with her limbs replaced by crude prosthetics, her mouth sewn shut but her eyes screaming. People of all ages locked in cages, their bodies twisted and deformed, their cries muffled by gags soaked in blood.

“This is what humanity has become,” he said, his voice cold and detached. “This is what I saved you from. You were a prize to them. A rare find. They would’ve broken you in ways you can’t even imagine.”

You fell to your knees, the weight of it all crashing down on you. He crouched beside you, his bloodied hand gripping your chin and forcing you to look at him. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, were filled with something dark, something terrifyingly close to affection.

“Don’t forget this,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Don’t ever forget who saved you. Who you belong to. Because without me…” His voice trailed off as he gestured toward the carnage around you. “This is all you’d ever know.”

You sobbed, the sound muffled against his chest as he pulled you into his arms. His embrace was as suffocating as it was unyielding, a cage that you could never escape. And yet, in that moment, you clung to him, because the alternative was too horrifying to bear.

────────────

So you stayed.

Not because you trusted him. Not because you wanted him. But because the alternative was infinitely worse. And yet, staying came with its own horrors, its own chains. His obsession didn’t shield you from his cruelty; it only redirected it. He was a man who didn’t just command obedience—he demanded submission. Every glance, every word, every trembling breath was a reminder of your place beneath him. When he touched you, it wasn’t with gentleness. His hands were calloused and bruising, gripping and claiming, leaving marks that would never fade.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he would say when your eyes filled with defiance or despair. “You’re still alive because I allow it.”

The world outside was dead, a barren wasteland of mutilation and starvation, yet with him, the torment was suffocatingly personal. He didn’t just want your compliance; he wanted your surrender. His words were a scalpel, cutting into your psyche with surgical precision. He would pull you close, his breath hot against your ear, his voice low and gravelly as he whispered promises of protection intertwined with threats so visceral they made your stomach churn.

“You’re mine,” he’d say, his hand resting possessively on your throat. “Every inch of you. Every thought. Every breath. Try to take that away from me, and I’ll show you what real pain feels like.”

There were moments when his control slipped, when the line between protector and predator blurred beyond recognition. He would keep you close, his body a cage of muscle and violence, his gaze piercing through your facade of composure. The way his hands roamed wasn’t tender—it was invasive, a reminder that he could take whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and there was nothing you could do to stop him.

And yet, you didn’t resist. Couldn’t. Resistance wasn’t a choice. Not here. Not with him.

The world outside was unlivable. The world with him was unbearable. Between the two, you chose to endure.

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If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “A Heart Devoured”: @definetlythinkimanalien , @floooring

[taradactyls]

Progress Update: Trying to Tread Water

Here's your fortnight update, though I think we can safely say three weeks is the soonest I'll ever have a chapter out given my schedule.

I've been able to work steadily, so have a bit over 5,600 words currently (pending editing and cuts) so I'm going really well in that regard!

And for context of how extremely I underestimate how much I'm going to write for each scene, all of those 5,600 words, plus a bit more I've got to do, and the entirety of the last chapter, were in my notes as the first 1/3 of Chapter 40...

Yeah.

So this chapter is either going to be huge or I'm going to have to separate out some ideas and increase the chapter count again, lol.

But I'm used to doing that by now and no one has complained about me exploring things in too much depth yet, and I've gotten pretty good at making those sorts of adjustments quickly, so it shouldn't delay the chapter update.

*edit* Also finally got that Chapter 40 research post up!

❤

Other small updates:

Everyone in the household is over their colds and I've been getting enough sleep! I even got to go to art class yesterday morning and did a really expressive painting with mostly sponges. It was very good for releasing stress!

Actually, I'm just going to show it to you, here's my painting and the supplies I used:

[exoexid]

the suyeol lore is so crazy

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Sail Away

Summary: Another nightmare leaves Javi wide awake, forced to wrestle with the consequences of his past as he looks towards his future

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Heavyyyyy on the angst, PTSD, references to violence/death (from Narcos), panic attack and descriptions of past panic attacks, insomnia, feelings of guilt/shame, mentions of pregnancy/parenthood, comfort, still a happy (enough) ending, post DEA Javi, poor Javi just really needs a hug :(

A/N: We're tryin new things here people!! Fair warning- I feel like this is DRASTICALLY different from the way I normally write (content and style wise) but big sad time, pre-period hormones said it's time to cry 🤷🏼‍♀️ I think a lot about how post-DEA Javi handles thinking about his time in Colombia, and how hard it is for him to talk about, even with the people he knows care about him the most ☹️ I hope this doesn't beat you to death with metaphors, imagery and lack of beta'ing (I can still hear my AP lit teacher screaming SYMBOLISM into the abyss) Trying to emulate a lil @jolapeno on this one (ily my descriptive queen 👑)

It happened again. 

You instantly knew from the stark cold of his side of the bed, the empty void where his broad frame should be, his sheets twisted and tangled from where he had fought another round with sleep and lost. 

3rd night in a row, the 5th time this week. At this point, it was hard not to keep track. 

The cyclical pattern of restless nights, haunted by ghosts of his past that taunted and teased him, cruelly lurking the back of his mind, no matter how hard he begged or pleaded for them to disappear. 

Forcing himself to wrestle with his demons in the darkness couldn’t help but feel like insult to injury- the harsh blacks and blues that flooded the sky, drowning out the last glimmer of sunlight as it dipped below the horizon, perfectly mirroring the way his mind so devilishly seemed to paint his thoughts in shades of ebony and cerulean with erratic, angry brushstrokes over the warm yellows and oranges of his new life he had finally learned to embrace. 

It only seemed fair that he went to battle with the darkest musings of his mind under the night sky that so cruelly reflected his mood. 

You weren’t surprised the first time you found him hunched on the back steps of your porch, head buried in his hands, fingers twitching for a cigarette- the vice he’d sworn to give up after his final return home, a vow that moments like these had made him distinctly regret. You always wondered how despite the stark silence that surrounded him as he stared off into the dark abyss, you could still hear his thoughts screaming at you- crying out for attention, acknowledgement, anything to get someone else to understand what he was hiding inside of his mind that he was too scared to say out loud. 

His midnight disappearances came in waves, fading and reappearing like an unpredictable ocean tide that left you wondering when the cool and salty water would crash around your ankles next as you stood at the edge of the shore. 

For a while, the seas had been calm, Javi’s body nestled next to yours, his warmth comforting and covering you along with the messy piles of blankets and bedsheets that filled your mattress, the nights being nothing more than drifting to sleep in each other’s arms, haunted dreams harbored at bay. 

For the last 5 nights, the tides had shifted. A storm was raging. 

The first few nights you let him go- you’d watched him weather this kind of storm before, always insisting it was a journey he was supposed to go on alone, the type of trip you need to make without risking hurting the innocent passengers that were supposed to ride with you. 

But as the days came and went, golden rays of vibrant sun shifting to dark and lonely blackness, it felt like you were leaving him out in the abyss without even so much as a life vest, praying for a return you knew would never come unless someone weathered the storm to save him. 

“You’re up again.” 

It’s a neutral statement, enough to disarm him from the implications you’ve sent yourself on a rescue mission to find him while you settle next to his stoic frame sinking into the porch step. 

“And you shouldn’t be.” 

Not quite resistance, but certainly not acceptance to you let you come aboard with him. Not yet. 

“I was already up anyway. Someone has been a big fan of punching me in my gut at 2 A.M. Hard not to notice when I wake up and your side of the bed is empty for the 5th time this week.” 

Both your eyes shift down to the subtle swell of your stomach, barley poking out from under the worn t-shirt you’d stolen from his dresser drawer. You’d never really had a knack for thievery until the past few weeks, claiming that everything was too tight for your growing belly. Despite all his years intertwined with the law, Javi had never had a problem with pardoning you for your violation, happy to let you, his household thief, and your new partner in crime indulge in the habit if it brought you any sort of comfort in your constant uncomfortability of growing a new life inside you. 

“Already picking up on her dad’s shit sleeping habit.” He scoffs under his breath, a bitterness in his tone that he thinks he’s somehow managing to inflict years worth of poor choices on his future child, still months away from even making her arrival into the world. 

It hurts, watching the pain well in his eyes as he stares off at the stars, glistening in the distance like some sort of unreachable sanctuary, the savior of a temporary distraction. Right now, you wish he’d look at you the same way, but he knows you won’t let him wallow in the all consuming waves of his own self pity like the stars will. 

A silent journey to outer space is the easy way out. You aren’t. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask it like it’s a question, like he has a choice in the matter. He knows that you’ll be gentle with him- you have been since the moment you met him- but Christ, he also knows you’re nothing, if not persistent, too. 

He sighs, accepting his defeat as his gaze drops from the sky down to the ground, cautiously allowing you to climb aboard with him. 

It’s like trying to approach a wounded wild animal- move too fast and you’ll scare him away, leaving him to writhe in even more pain as he tries to flee from you. Move too slow and you leave him to bleed out, alone and afraid. 

“I’m fine.” It’s almost humorous how blatant of a lie it is, immediately putting himself on the defensive, like he has any ground to stand on with his claim. 

You say nothing, your silence enough to intrigue him as his eyes finally meet yours, the look on his face revealing the truth his words wouldn’t. You try your best to remain neutral, but Javi knows the sadness slowly slipping through your expression, the one you’re trying your best to hide because you’re not the one that’s hurting. Yet, there’s something about seeing you hurt because of him that’s enough to chip away at the wall he’s put up between you two, finally allowing you a crack just wide enough to let you see through to the other side. 

“I- I keep having the same dream. Every night, it’s the same.” He says “dream” like he’s letting himself drift off to sleep to all the pleasantries the world has to offer him, waking up to his midnight thoughts refreshed and renewed. Because his dreams aren’t just dreams, his dreams are the most terrifying nightmares the majority people wouldn’t even be capable of imagining, a violent parade of the worst memories his brain can muster.  

“What dream?” You ask, as carefully and cautiously as the way you shift yourself closer to him. 

“I- It’s- I just- Fuck-” 

It’s then you choose to gamble, wagering that he’s let you in enough, your next move won’t startle him, inching yourself closer as your right hand begins to intertwine with his left. He’s resistant at first, but as the familiar warmth of your body grazes across his skin, he begins to let you in, allowing your fingers to gently tangle, anchoring himself in your grasp. 

“It’s okay, Javi. I’m here. You can tell me.” 

It’s then the bets become less of a reckless gamble, squeezing him just a little tighter, stroking his skin with your thumb and feeling him squeeze back, taking your hand and finally letting you start to lift him out of the eye of the storm. 

He still needs the reassurance you won’t leave, that the man his nightmares make him won’t scare you away like they have so many others. An insecurity that distresses him enough to make him ache, despite your compassion. 

You’re not gonna scare me away, Javi.

The words still ring in the back of his head when he finds himself like this, remembering the first time you found him on the living room floor of your apartment at 3 A.M., skin tacky and covered in sweat, heart beating so fast he was convinced he was dying, terrified of his mind, and even more terrified you would leave him, letting you find him exposed, like some sort of disgusting, open wound. 

He’ll never understand why you showed him so much mercy. In no lifetime will he ever be able to thank you enough that you did. 

It still doesn’t make what comes next any easier. 

“I just stood there. I just let him- I just let him do it. He was just a fucking kid.” 

You can practically hear both your hearts break over the stark silence. Javi’s, because of all the things he’s done, this is the one he’ll never forgive himself for. Yours, for the same reason. 

“Javi…” 

“I didn’t even try to stop him. He was just a kid. We just- we just fucking left him there. What kind of person does that? I- I spent so long trying to convince myself, trying to- fuck- trying to justify it was okay. That casualties happen when you’re trying to catch a fuckin’ monster. But what if- what if none of it fucking mattered because I was the one who was really the monster.” 

It was flowing out of him now, a flash flood crashing through the rest of the brick wall he had built up to defend himself. You can feel him trying to pull his hand away, trying to keep you from getting swept away in the current with him, but it only makes you double down harder. 

“You’re not a monster, Javi. What happened back then, it- it did matter. I know it hurts, but it doesn't make you a monster.” 

It’s not his admittance of guilt that breaks him- it’s your forgiveness. 

He wonders how can stand him, let alone love him. How his past hasn’t left him tainted and useless, like some sort of lame animal with a limp that can’t be cured, its only options left to die or be sent out to pasture, too weak to venture back for help. That you were the only one who wanted to help fix the parts of himself that were the most broken and mangled. That you were the only one who gave him a chance to be healed instead of leaving him for dead. 

When his eyes meet your stomach is when the guilt begins to morph into terror. Because years ago, a mother, just like you, was nestled away in the haphazard rows of colorful buildings that lined the streets of Medellín, carrying her unborn son, dreaming about the life she would plan for him. 

Javi knows that nowhere in those plans did she account for the pain and heartbreak she would suffer as some asshole DEA agent watched her son’s body become one with the earth while he took a bullet to the brain.  

How was he supposed to live with himself when he got a chance to play God- that now, after letting a life disappear, he was allowed to have a hand in creating a new one? 

You watch the gears in his brain churn, yearning for an explanation to the unexplainable puzzle he’ll never be able to solve, even though he’s convinced he can. His brain works in logic and reasoning, only making the emotional torment of his past decisions more confusing for him. The same kind of logic that you’re not sure will ever allow him to forgive himself. 

“How am I supposed to be a dad? How are you ever gonna trust me? How am I supposed to keep her safe when I’ve done so many terrible fucking things?” Tears begin to flow down his cheeks, each word more ragged and shaky than the last until he can’t fight it any more. 

It feels like the entire weight of the world collapsing into your lap as he melts into you, so heavy that there’s nothing that you can do but wrap your arms around him at let him cry and soak the battered fabric of the his stolen t-shirt draped over your top, fisting at the frayed hems. 

He can’t pretend anymore, not after he’s shown you all the cards he’s had to lay out on the table. There’s no more facade, no more attempt at a stubborn masquerade to hide his hurt. He’s finally let you climb aboard his ship and take the wheel, trusting that you’ll guide him home to shore where he belongs. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

The way he repeats it, chanting it like a broken prayer, begging for your forgiveness makes you ache. You’ve forgiven him for the sins of his past long ago, yet he still feels the need to plead to you for redemption. You wish there was a way to take it from him, to let him unburden himself from the shame he’s carried for so long and carry it for him, even if just for a little while. To let him see what you see in him, to know that you love him for all of his past, and not just in spite of it. To let him know that the storm he has to weather is a storm you will never let him weather alone. But for now, three words are the best you can do. 

“I love you. I love you, Javi.” 

And you do. You mean it. With every bone in your body, with every fiber of your being, you mean it. And right now, he may not admit it, but he knows you do, too. Those three words are enough to let him see the shoreline approaching in the distance, to see the light of day beginning to peek its way through the cracks of the night sky, to carry him back home to you. 

He says it with his silence, the way his sobs start to slow, replaced with long inhales and exhales, his chest rising and falling against you. He says it with the way he holds you just a little tighter, hand splaying across the swell of your stomach, muttering a promise to himself just loud enough for you to hear. 

“I promise I’ll protect you. Both of you. If it’s the last thing I do.” 

“I know you will. I will, too. I promise.” 

The promise is the last gentle wave that pushes you back to the part of the beach where tides roll gently, forgetting the raging currents they once were in the middle of the ocean. A place where you can safely row your boat ashore without the fear of another dreadful thought creeping up on you and dragging you back out to face torment again. 

As you look out in front of you, the sky is no longer laden with heavy shades of black- a pastel sunrise is beginning to creep over the horizon, glistening like some sort of trophy for an underdog fistfight you’d managed to win, even if you’d come out the other side beaten and bruised. It was enough to nudge Javi’s head out of your lap, encouraging him to accept his prize at a game where winners came few and far between. 

Tonight, you'd never been more thankful the universe had let Javi come up a winner.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been up early enough to watch the sunrise.” 

“Yeah. It is pretty, isn’t it? Sorry this is the reason you get to see it.” 

“As long as I get to be with you, that reason will always be good enough.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[darlingdreadwrites]

I read your Toby fics, and I really love your writing:D

I see your open with requests and I wanted to ask a Toby x final girl reader?

They just kept fighting against him, and he somehow gained a crush on the person he is supposed to kill? It's fine if you don't ;D

I WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS I SQUEALED WHEN I READ IT!! i hope i do right by you, my lovely anon.

pairing: Ticci Toby x Final Girl F!Reader

part: 1, 2

summary: Toby thought you'd be an easy target since you were just a girl. He should've gone with the easy kill when he had the chance.

contains: getting chased by a man wielding two hatchets, slight pov switches but it's still in second person, idk what else to put

warning: violence, gore (more like imagery is gore-y), MEAN TOBY, reader gets hurt, toby gets hurt, me not knowing how to write fight/tense scenes and the logistics that go with them, barely any talking cuz i think toby would be too embarrassed by his stutter

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

a.n: when i read final girl in the request, i pictured reader wearing those outfits that female japanese horror game protags wear (picture fatal frame). i’m gonna keep the end ambiguous for you because my freak brain wants it all to work out perfectly for them, but the other part of my brain wants to keep it realistic cuz there’s no way in HELL i’d let someone forcing me to run live. if you want me to continue where i left off i’d be so glad to (and you can pick whichever type of “route” you want). ENJOY!!

The cool, night air gave you chills all over as your feet pounded against the soft forest floor under your feet. With every quick step you took, another short burst of breath escaped your lips. It felt like you were being pushed back by a sudden gust of wind, but the trees continued to look blurry in the corners in your eyes, and that was a good thing. You kept your pace – even if it felt like the breeze kept poking needles into the cuts on your skin.

You had decided to actually dress up today but stayed mindful enough for the fall weather. So, you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion. Maybe next time you decide you want to get attacked by some psycho swinging hatchets; you’ll be a little more fucking prepared. 

The whistling of said hatchet reminds you of why you were running. The sound of his weapon whirred by as it lodges itself deep into the bark of a tree. It’s already behind you as your mind yelled at your body to keep up. His other hatchet thwacks into a tree too close to your head and you scream involuntarily. You stumble to a stop stupidly, stabilize yourself, and drag your body to pivot and sprint to the right.

You weren’t sure how long you could keep going. But - as much as your lungs burned - that buzz that came from fighting for your life nagged at you like a bitch. You don’t care how much your body hurts because you will deal with the consequences later.

You’re not going to let yourself die.

Toby grunted as frustration and anger seethed in his veins. Wrapping his hands around the handle of his hatchet, he kept his eyes trained on you as he struggled to pull the thing free. He’d all but forgotten that the other one was a few feet away. He wasn’t normally fond of losing his favorite toys. He wouldn’t lose you either.

You were a stupid, stupid girl, after all.

His head violently twitched to the side compulsorily when he finally dislodged his weapon. A few wood chips flew out and landed on the muddy leaves below. He stood there, taking and letting out deep breaths.

He thinks about what might be going through your mind as you keep running. Maybe about how you were gonna get out of here, call the pigs, and have some nurse tend to the wounds he gave you. He smiled and tightened his grip on his hatchet as he fantasized about your naïve hope. He knew these woods like the back of his hand.

You wouldn’t make it out of here in one piece.

You slow down as the structure of a house comes into view. It fits the eerie atmosphere perfectly – chipping paint, broken windows. You’re not here to admire the neglected building, though, and you stomp up the small steps. The door lets out a low groan as you practically shove it open using your shoulder.

Slamming it behind you, your head whips around for the exit or some type of weapon. In the distance, you can hear the shrill whistle of the man outside, an involuntary thing, you’ve noticed. Just how long have you been fighting this freak? Enough to learn his quirks, that’s for sure. 

Delving deeper into the house with hurried steps, you look around for a kitchen. Find a weapon, find a weapon, you repeat to yourself, the sound of your quick gasps filling your ears. You catch yourself on the doorway when you almost rush past it.  

You barely stepped foot into the room before crying out when you felt something make impact with your back. The dull, heavy pressure sends painful shockwaves through you. Having the wind knocked out of you, the muscles in your back spasm and you buckle forward. He shoves you, and you wheeze as the edge of the rusted stove in front of you digs painfully into your stomach.

Your eyes immediately land on a cast iron skillet, and you think you have less than three seconds. You smash the pan against the side of his head, your grunt and the metal clang the only sounds in the room. You were confused as to why he wasn’t yelling out in pain. But your arms jerked upward, the heavy iron bludgeoning into his chin and he stumbles back.

Toby can hear the ringing in his ears with each blow to his head, his world spinning for far too long than he would’ve liked. He snarls and grabs your arm, throwing you in the direction of a wall hard - causing you to drop your makeshift weapon.

He looks at you, at how your legs shake as you try to steady the world around you. Look at you - you looked like a fawn. With your wide eyes and trembling form. Guess he’ll be your coyote, right? He’d sink his teeth into the side of your neck and stain his maw with your crimson flood. You were just pretty enough that he couldn’t wait to watch your eyes roll back when he greedily kept the air from inflating your lungs.

No, but you weren’t a fawn, were you? He’d seen more fight in you than any of the losers he was tasked to kill. They sobbed – they fucking begged on their hands and knees – to keep him from tearing them limb by limb. You were stronger than he thought you’d be, but you weren’t as agile as he was, he thought.

His face stretched as another wide, sinister grin spread across his face. His gloved hand tightened around the hatchet’s handle. He could hear the leather creak if he focused on anything other than your breathing.

You duck and stumble out of the way as you hear the spitting of wood above your head. He yells out a loud “fuck!” and attempts to yank the weapon free. You run out of the room and almost collide with another wall. You pivot on your heel because there was no way you’d run away from the front--

Gasping, you caught your balance before you could fall through the gaping hole on the floor. No time to jump, you told yourself, and you spun once again. Sprinting down the hall, you were met with the door to a room rather than any kind of exit.

You’d remember to set this house on fire when you made it out alive.

The room stunk of decaying carcasses and a thick powdery smell – the former outperforming the latter. You make your way to a second door and find yourself in a bathroom. You think there’s nothing here heavy enough to hurt him until your eyes land on a towel rod that hung loosely from the wall.

With a determined tug it comes out and you know he heard it. You can tell by the way you hear his heavy boots scramble in the direction of the room. You take a deep gulp of air and press your back against the wall next to the door.

The air was heavy with tension as the door creaked open. His shadowy figure stretched on the floor, and he walked right in. Would he turn around? Would he sense where you were before it was too late?

While he twisted around, you slam the rod into the side of his head. He’s disoriented for a moment, his head rolling to the side. Before he could react, you lifted your right leg, and the bottom of your shoe made contact with his stomach – sending him hurtling back.

Toby lets out a groan as he loses his balance and falls into a tub. His limbs sprawl out, legs and arms dangling from the sides. He attempts to move when a raw, guttural scream that causes his chest to tighten makes him stop. His eyes dilate as he stares at you wildly. Something about your scream has shaken him to his core. His head was still dizzy and a little numb from the force of your hit. And yet he couldn’t help but admire your resilience. He should be livid – breaking all your fingers and pulling your pretty little teeth out of your mouth one by one.

The man’s tics overtook him, his eyelids squeezed shut with a sudden intensity. He opens them again, and you’re still rooted in the same spot – breathing heavily. He’d never seen a girl look as hot as you did right now. He didn’t think that was even possible in your state. Your clothes, hair, and face were caked in mud and blood from your gashes. A girl like you should’ve been screaming in pain and crying for her mommy. But you stared at him with a burning defiance that caused his heart to pound violently against his chest.

His hatchet lay at your feet, and he realized that you had gotten him. You won. He could try attacking you again – he was bigger than you – but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He can’t fight back anymore; he just stares in what he can only assume is awe. Years of taking lives and witnessing more gore than anyone ever should, could not have prepared him for this moment. You didn’t stop – you just couldn’t. It was… admirable. Beautiful, even, if he was a more sentimental person.

You piqued his curiosity like nobody had ever done before. He wanted to know what made you tick. He wanted to study every movement, sound, and judgement you’d ever make. You could break all the bones in his body, and he’d come running back to watch you do it again when the Operator put him together again.

You astonished him.

So, what’ll you do now?

[angelssmvse]

𝘼 𝘿𝘼𝙉𝘾𝙀 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙀𝙉����𝙈𝙔

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 (𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵 / 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧)

𝜗𝜚 𝙎𝙐𝙈𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙔 You’re JJ’s sister, part of a close-knit group of friends who’ve been through thick and thin together. But when you discover you have "kook" blood, your whole world is thrown into doubt. Among the chaos, Rafe Cameron becomes a constant source of tension, and despite your differences, your paths inevitably cross. After a violent storm leaves you and Rafe stranded in Morocco, you’re forced to rely on each other for survival. In the midst of uncertainty and danger, you start to realize that maybe, after everything, you’ve both been searching for something in each other all along.

𝜗𝜚 𝘼/𝙉 I happened to dream about Rafe Cameron last night and I HAD to write about him, so here’s a one shot smut (with an interesting plot + enemies to lovers). Enjoy angels <3

𝜗𝜚 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 smut! minors DNI. This narrative contains mature themes and explicit content, including strong language, depictions of violence, adult situations (smut), and elements of both humor and tenderness (unprotected sex, p in v). Reader discretion is advised.

You were JJ’s younger sister, a proud Pogue, raised in a violent family but surrounded by loyal, kind-hearted friends. Your tight-knit circle, bonded by years of shared memories, was your world—Kiara, in particular, was your closest friend. Despite being a “half Pogue” by blood (as she came from a Kook family), Kiara was more like a sister than a friend. You never cared about fame or wealth. What mattered to you was living a peaceful life surrounded by the people you considered family. Your brother JJ, always impulsive and reckless, had a knack for getting into trouble. He often acted as though he could simply reset any bad situation, which meant you were left to pick up the pieces and look out for him. His anger issues, inherited from your father, could be unsettling at times, but you always knew he would never direct that anger towards you. Then there was Sarah—once a close friend before the tension between her and Kiara caused a rift. Naturally, you took Kiara’s side, but you were relieved when they eventually reconciled. In your younger years, Sarah was someone you’d spend a lot of time with. You’d visit her house, throw parties, and, inevitably, there was always someone who would find it amusing to tease you. The main culprit? Rafe fucking Cameron, Sarah’s older brother. Rafe had a reputation as a bit of a bully, though it was more complicated than that. He was rich, popular, and undeniably handsome, often using his status to irritate you and your friends. But after everything that had transpired in recent months, it seemed he had bigger problems to deal with—including that new buzz cut.

You were helping John B with some fishing, wrapping up a few chores before taking a moment to relax. “I’m just so glad we figured everything out, you know? Like… the old me wouldn’t even recognize myself. And JJ? I’ve never seen him this happy,” you say with a soft laugh, the thought of your brother bringing a smile to your face. John B returns the smile. “Yeah, I’m grateful for everything,” he says, taking a sip of his beer. The view from the boat was perfect—the calm, glassy water, the fresh fish, the sunset painting the sky, cold beers in hand, and the easy flow of conversation. It was the kind of moment you never wanted to end. Except… a larger boat, definitely a Kook’s, was drawing dangerously close. John B narrowed his eyes, and without a word, he flicked on the motor. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” you shouted, glaring at the other boat. “Hey!” John B added, raising his voice as he tried to get their attention. Then you saw him. “Rafe?” you said, disappointment lacing your tone. “Rafe!” you repeated, disbelief creeping in. He smirked, leaning casually against the side of the boat. “Our property now! Go away, Pogues!” one of his friends yelled, throwing an obnoxious wave in your direction. “Leave, assholes!” They added, flinging their drink at your boat—whatever rich liquor they were sipping splashing across you. For a moment, you just stood there, frozen, as the alcohol soaked your clothes. “John B, let’s just leave,” you whispered, frustration simmering beneath your calm exterior. “What the hell!?” John B shouted, throwing his arms up in disbelief. Rafe’s head appeared over the side of the boat, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand, stumbling slightly as he tried to stay balanced. “Hey, y’all better leave,” he said, his voice nonchalant, though it was clear he was barely keeping it together. With a resigned sigh, you and John B started the boat, silently putting distance between yourselves and Rafe’s crew. It was clear they had nothing better to do than ruin the peaceful moment, but you weren’t about to let them.

A couple of weeks later, you found yourself on the same boat with Rafe—of all people—as he had just saved your asses from the police. Now, you were heading to Morocco, a place that seemed both like an escape and a new chapter of uncertainty. It had been a crazy ride—Sarah was pregnant, JJ was as drunk as ever, and you, well... you almost lost everything. Your property. Your life. You nearly got killed by some random guys, Pope had been arrested, and to top it all off, you had just discovered a truth that shattered everything you thought you knew. Your entire life had been a lie. You were a Pogue, born and raised, yet somehow, you had Kook blood running through your veins. Who would’ve thought? The irony wasn't lost on you. As the group argued over what to do with Rafe, you sat on the floor, trying to block out the noise. JJ, however, had fallen uncharacteristically silent, his eyes fixed on you while he sipped his drink. It was like he was trying to read you, but even in your haze, you could feel the weight of his gaze. He moved closer and sat down next to you, his breath heavy with the sharp scent of alcohol that always reminded you of your non-Dad. "Hey..." he murmured, his voice softer than usual. "Everything will be fine, okay? I’ll figure this out. We’ll kick Rafe off this boat, and—". But you couldn’t take it anymore. You stood up abruptly, pushing him away, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. Tears you had been holding back for so long finally spilled over, streaming down your cheeks. You could barely breathe, the pressure of it all suffocating you. "Jesus Christ, JJ, stop it," you said, your voice breaking as you turned and rushed toward one of the rooms, trying to escape from the overwhelming emotions that flooded through you. From his position, Rafe had been watching the entire scene unfold, observing everything from the higher deck as he took control of the ship. He didn’t trust any of you—not after everything that had happened. He knew he was in the wrong too; after all the backstabbing, the betrayals, the lies. He had done everything to gain your groups trust, and yet... despite everything, something about this group still gnawed at him. He had always denied it, but there was a part of him—an uncomfortable part—that felt a strange attachment to you. He hated how much it infuriated him when you talked to other guys, or worse, when they looked at you even for a second. It would drive him mad, make him feel this irrational, burning jealousy he couldn’t explain. Watching you laugh with the others, seeing how they adored you, made him lose his mind in ways he couldn’t understand. He had tried to push it all down, to convince himself that he hated you—that he hated everything about you. But every time he did, it just made him more miserable. When he saw you upset, it twisted something in his chest. He had always hated that about himself.

You woke up groggily from your nap, the boat gently rocking beneath you. Stepping out of your cabin, you made your way to the girls, feeling the weight of the day still hanging heavy on your shoulders. "Hey..." you whispered as you sat down next to them. Kiara immediately pulled you into a hug, her touch warm and comforting. "Are you feeling better?" she asked softly. "We didn't want to bother you." You let out a small sigh, nodding. "Yeah, I’m fine... Where are the others?" You looked around, surprised at how calm the boat felt, especially after everything that had happened. The girls exchanged a glance before the silence was broken by a scream from one of the locked rooms. "Let me out!" Rafe’s voice echoed, the desperation clear. You raised an eyebrow, looking at the girls in confusion. "What’s Rafe doing in there?" you asked, your voice unsure. Sarah sighed, her face tight with frustration. "We went to talk to him... and it didn’t end very well. He was armed. JJ punched him, and that was the only option left." You nodded slowly, trying to process it all. "Mhm. Okay. Okay." You took a deep breath, running a hand through your hair. "I think we should make dinner, huh?" It was the only thing you could think of to distract yourself from everything spinning in your mind. You didn’t want to open up, didn’t want to burden anyone with your problems. Everyone here had their own issues, and you had to deal with yours, quietly.As dinner came together, you prepared a small portion for Rafe. You hesitated for a moment, but then said, "I’ll bring this for him," before carefully picking up the plate and walking towards the door where Rafe was locked up.

You unlocked the door slowly, the sound of the mechanism clicking louder than it should’ve been. There, in the dim light, Rafe was sitting on the floor, his hands tied and drenched in sweat. His eyes lifted to meet yours, and for a split second, you saw something softer in them, something almost vulnerable. "Here," you said quietly, setting the plate of food down on the floor in front of him. You could feel his gaze on you as you stood, awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. He didn’t move, staring at the food without touching it. You glanced up at him again, catching his eye. "I’m sorry. They had no choice but this." Your voice was barely above a whisper, the weight of the words sitting between you both. Just as you turned to leave, you heard his voice, softer, but desperate. "Wait," he said, the word barely escaping his lips. "Just—stay. Please,". You froze, your back still facing him. For a brief moment, you hesitated. If you left now, you'd be an ass—he’d hate you for it. But then again, why should you care? He probably already hated you, right? And staying, talking to him... that felt like a betrayal to your friends, a line you didn’t want to cross. You swallowed the tight feeling in your throat and turned, shutting the door softly behind you. "Hey! Wait!" Rafe’s voice cracked through the silence, louder this time. "Hey!" He shouted, his frustration rising. You heard him begin to violently kick the walls, the sound sharp and jarring. "You’re just gonna leave me in here?!". You could feel the heat of his anger seeping through the door as he threw the food you’d just given him, the clatter of it hitting the walls making your stomach twist. You didn't look back. Instead, you kept walking, your heart pounding in your chest. As you moved away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to Rafe’s anger, something deeper. And despite everything that had happened—despite the hatred, the violence, the lies—you couldn’t help but wonder what it was that kept pulling you back to him.

The storm hit hard, howling through the night, throwing waves against the sides of the ship. You could hear the wind tearing at the sails and the relentless crash of thunder overhead. The entire ship felt alive, bucking beneath you as you clung to the nearest railing, trying to steady yourself as everything around you shook. You and John B were doing your best to keep things from spiraling out of control, struggling to keep the ship from tipping over in the chaos. But even with all the work, your mind was elsewhere. Suddenly, a thought pulled you out of your focused panic: Rafe. “Hey!” you shouted over the roar of the storm, trying to catch his attention. "I’m going to see what's going on down there, okay?" you yelled, nodding toward the cabin, your voice barely carrying over the loud wind. He gave you a curt nod, already moving in his own direction. You didn’t wait any longer. You turned on your heel, struggling to keep your balance as you made your way below deck. The floor was slick, waves crashing against the hull, and everything around you seemed to be in a constant state of motion, making it almost impossible to stay upright. You braced yourself against the walls, your heart pounding from the adrenaline, until you finally reached the locked door. “Rafe!” you called, your voice cracking slightly from the strain of the storm. You knelt down, quickly untying the knot that held his hands. You brushed your wet hair behind your ear, glancing up at him as he looked back at you. "Please don't let me regret this," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Rafe chuckled darkly, shaking his head.

You both wasted no time. With a quick glance, Rafe took your hand and led the way. He moved with purpose, navigating the ship like he owned it, knowing every creak and groan of the ship better than anyone. You were behind him, just trying to keep up as the ship pitched and rolled beneath you, the storm making everything harder than it already was. Then, as you passed the galley, you both froze. There, sitting on the floor in the middle of the chaos, was JJ. He was slumped against the wall, a bottle of liquor in his hand, his head hanging low. His hair was wet and sticking to his forehead, and he looked like he was barely holding it together. “JJ…” you said softly, your heart aching at the sight of your brother in such a state. You walked towards him, but Rafe stayed a few paces behind, eyes locked on the situation. “Please get up,” you pleaded, your voice barely audible over the storm’s fury. JJ slowly lifted his head, his eyes glazed and unfocused. When he saw you, his lips twisted into a half-smile. "Or what? You got yourself a new boyfriend, huh?" he slurred, his voice thick with alcohol. You winced, feeling a pang of frustration. He was so drunk, so out of it, and it made everything worse. "JJ, please," you repeated, walking closer, trying to help him to his feet. But before you could reach him, he suddenly pushed himself up, swaying unsteadily. His glare was unfocused, but it was still intense. He held the bottle out toward you, but you moved quickly, taking it from his hands. “Enough,” Rafe’s voice cut through the tension. He stepped forward, placing himself between you and JJ. His tone was hard, firm. "Let's just get the hell out of here," he said, his voice quiet but commanding. JJ glared at him, his anger flaring. “You stay out of this, Rafe,” he snapped, his voice rough, but it didn’t have the usual bite. He was too drunk to even stand up straight, let alone fight back. Rafe stood his ground, pushing JJ back a step when he made a move toward you. "Not this time," Rafe said coldly. He didn’t even raise his voice, but his presence alone made JJ take a step back. You looked at both of them, torn between your brother and the strange, undeniable tension that hung in the air between you and Rafe. Your heart raced as you realized just how close everything was to spiraling out of control. The storm outside mirrored the one raging within the confines of the ship. For a long, tense moment, no one moved. You looked between Rafe and JJ, feeling the weight of the situation press down on you. Rafe’s expression softened slightly, but only just enough to show a hint of something unspoken. As you took a step back, you glanced at JJ, seeing the hurt and anger in his eyes, the pain behind the alcohol. “Let’s just get out of here,” you repeated, your voice quieter now. You turned toward the exit, Rafe’s hand guiding you away, as the storm raged on around you. But behind you, JJ’s words still echoed, mixing with the thunder outside, an angry shout that faded into the sound of the storm.

The three of you made your way back to the others, the atmosphere thick with tension as you all sat down around the dining table. The ship’s constant creaking beneath the storm’s fury only made the silence between you all feel heavier, more suffocating. The occasional flashes of lightning illuminated the space, highlighting the uneasy glances everyone was giving Rafe. The looks were silent, but they said it all: they didn’t trust him. And right now, you couldn’t blame them. You sat there, lost in your own thoughts, barely noticing the way the ship rocked violently beneath you. Everything felt so out of control, like you were spiraling, each moment pulling you further away from any semblance of safety. The storm, the tension, the confusion—it was all too much.

Then Sarah stood up, the scrape of her chair against the floor dragging everyone’s attention toward her. “Guys—where’s John B?” she asked, her voice full of panic. The group exchanged looks, eyes widening. The space suddenly felt too small, too tight. “I’ve got to find him,” Sarah said quickly, her voice sharp with urgency. Without waiting for anyone to stop her, she dashed toward the exit. “Sarah, wait!” you called after her, but she was already gone, running through the storm, gripping onto the nearest stable object to steady herself as the ship lurched violently. “John B!” she screamed, her voice barely audible over the sound of the wind and crashing waves. Her words were swallowed by the storm, and for a moment, you thought you might have imagined the way the air grew still around you. But then it happened—without warning, a massive wave crashed against the ship, slamming into Sarah with such force that her scream was suddenly cut short. Her body was swept off the ship, pulled into the dark, merciless sea by the violent water. “No!” you shouted, jumping to your feet, your heart hammering in your chest. You could barely process what you had just seen. The rest of the group scrambled, horrified, frozen in place for a moment. JJ was the first to react. Without hesitation, he dove toward the railing, reaching out for Sarah as she was dragged further away from the ship. "Sarah!" he screamed, but she was too far. His eyes locked onto her, and there was no choice left. He jumped. He didn’t even think, just threw himself into the water, desperate to save her, to pull her back. You stood there, unable to breathe, your eyes wide in disbelief. You watched as JJ disappeared into the waves, leaving you behind. John B and the others had seen it, too, all of you trapped in this horrible moment. Your mind raced, but your body was paralyzed, unable to move, unable to do anything to stop the chaos unfolding in front of you. Your best friend and your brother—two of the most important people in your life—were now lost in the storm, and there was nothing you could do to bring them back.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. You turned around, your chest tight, hoping for some kind of comfort, some kind of clarity. But when you met Rafe’s eyes, the last person you expected to be there, you saw something you didn’t expect: sincerity. His expression was dark, filled with regret, pain, and maybe even guilt. Before you could say anything, Rafe was already there, pulling you into his arms. His embrace was tight, his hands running through your wet hair as the tears you had been holding back finally spilled over. You cried, quietly at first, your body trembling in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, like he couldn’t find the right words, like he was searching for something to say but couldn’t find it. You didn’t know what to say, what to do. You didn’t want to feel this connection to him, not after everything that had happened, but in this moment, his touch was the only thing that grounded you. The storm outside, the storm in your heart—it all blurred together. All you could feel was the weight of what you had just lost. As Rafe held you, his warmth in contrast to the coldness of the storm, you clung to him, your tears soaking into his shirt. The sound of the storm, of crashing waves and thunder, seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the chaos in your heart. In the silence of the ship, with only the two of you holding on, there was a brief moment where nothing else mattered.

The ship tilted violently, a massive wave crashing into it, sending everything into chaos. You reached for Rafe’s hand, but the wind and water pulled you apart. He grabbed you tighter, but it only made things worse as the ship lurched again, sending both of you overboard. You tried to hold on, but the weight of the water and the force of the storm were too much. The cold sea engulfed you both, dragging you down, your desperate gasps for air lost to the waves. The ship’s creaks and groans faded into the distance as you were pulled under, and just like that, you and Rafe were gone. Onboard, the rest of the group watched in horror, realizing they had lost not two, but four of you. The nightmare was endless, the storm swallowing everything in its path.

You and Rafe, still holding hands, struggled to stay afloat in the violent ocean. Hours passed, each minute feeling like days, until you finally spotted land. The moment you reached the shore, you collapsed onto the sand, exhausted and grateful. "Yes! Finally some land!" you yelled, gasping for breath. Rafe lay next to you, closing his eyes, and you stood over him, still trying to catch your breath. "What?" he murmured, not opening his eyes. "Are you planning to stay here forever?" you asked, hands on your hips. "God, let me take a break," he groaned, finally opening his eyes. "I’m hungry, Rafe." The two of you started a fire and managed to catch some fish after several failed attempts. It wasn't much, but it was better than starving. As the fish cooked, you sat in silence, staring at the fire. Rafe sat next to you, but kept his distance. "We should keep moving—find the others," you said, your voice cold. "I don't even know if my brother's still alive. We barely—" He interrupted you. "Let’s just rest for a bit, regain the energy we’ve lost." You shot him an angry glare, your frustration boiling over. For a split second, he saw something familiar in your eyes—your brother’s fire, your brother’s determination. You were unrecognizable, and it made his stomach twist. "No," you said, looking away, your voice quieter now.

You both set off again, trekking through unfamiliar terrain in search of the rest of the group. Hours passed without any sign of them. The search led you to a village, but you were lost in the maze of unknown streets. There was no trail, no clues. "Let’s just stop for a second and think, baby," Rafe suggested, his voice softer. You spun around, fury rising in your chest. "Don’t call me that!" you screamed, your finger pointed at him. Rafe’s patience snapped. He grabbed your wrist, pinning you against a nearby wall. "Hey, listen to me," he hissed, his voice low but firm. "I’m done obeying. Done doing whatever you're trying to do. You’re blinded by rage, and don't try to deny it. I know exactly how it feels." You froze, the fire in your eyes flickering for just a moment. His words hit harder than you expected. He was right—you were blinded by anger. You softened, just for a second, and his grip on your wrist loosened, giving you space. "Okay..." you whispered, feeling defeated but also oddly calm. "What do you have in mind?" A slow smile spread across Rafe’s face as he pulled a wad of cash from his pocket. "Where did you...?" you asked, confused and surprised. "Just follow me," he said, his grin widening.

The sun was setting as you and Rafe finally found a hotel for the night. The exhaustion of the day hung heavy on both of you, but as soon as you entered the room, your eyes locked on the single bed in the middle of it. You paused for a second, staring at it, then turned to Rafe. Before you could even say anything, he threw his hands up in defense. "It was the cheapest one, don’t blame it on me." You rolled your eyes and shook your head, unable to suppress a small sigh. "Of course," you muttered, rubbing your temples. The day had been long enough without having to deal with this. Rafe just shrugged, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "It’s not like you had any better ideas," he added, smirking. You narrowed your eyes at him but didn’t say anything more. What could you say? You were too tired to argue. Still, the thought of sharing a bed with him made your skin crawl a little. But in the end, you didn’t have much of a choice. "Fine," you said, dropping your bag onto the floor. "Let’s just get through the night.". Rafe gave a half-grin, settling down on the edge of the bed. "Agreed." It wasn’t ideal. But after everything, it was at least a place to rest—something you both desperately needed.

It was late, and sleep refused to come. You sat up, glancing over at Rafe’s face in the soft moonlight. He looked so different—almost innocent, like someone else entirely. He wasn’t the man everyone feared, the violent, unpredictable guy. Maybe he needed to be understood. Or maybe, you thought, you were just too tired to think clearly. You slipped out of bed quietly and made your way to the balcony, craving the cool night air. The breeze hit your skin, and for a moment, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. You leaned against the railing, taking in the view as you let your thoughts drift. You couldn’t help but reflect on your past—how you’d gone from having nothing, to having everything, and then losing it all over again. When would it stop? Just as the weight of your thoughts grew heavy, a voice broke the silence. “The view’s beautiful, mhm?” Rafe’s voice was low, his gaze distant as he stood in the doorway, his eyes turned away. You turned toward him, catching his eyes for a brief moment before looking away. "Yeah, it really is," you said softly, your voice almost drowned out by the sounds of the night. Rafe nodded, clearly trying to find the right words, but they didn’t seem to come. The silence stretched between you, both of you caught in your own heads. You could feel the tension rising, the unspoken words thick in the air. You took a breath and spoke up, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “Hey, Rafe?”—“Yeah?” he responded quietly, turning his attention back to you. You hesitated, then looked up at him. “Thank you. Thank you for saving me.” A smile tugged at the corner of Rafe’s mouth. He gave a small nod. “You wouldn’t be sleeping in a nice hotel if it wasn’t for me,” he said with a light chuckle, the tension in his voice easing for a second. You couldn’t help but smile, a soft laugh escaping you as you lightly punched his arm. "Hey," you teased, trying to break the seriousness that had built between you.

The brief moment of laughter faded quickly, and the air around you both grew heavier. The silence between you two became thick with something else, something unspoken. Your eyes locked once again, and this time, neither of you looked away. It felt like the space between you was closing, drawn in by some invisible force. Your heart raced as you both stood there, drawn together by the weight of the moment. The space between the two of you slowly closes as he kisses your soft lips. The kiss deepens, becoming more and more passionate. His hands roam over your body going to your hips as he holds you tight. You, tip toed, hold him by his neck as he picks you up bringing you to the bed finding himself on top of you now. You look up as you catch his gaze, filled of lust and desire. He begins to kiss your neck leaving love trails all over you, his warm breath makes you arch your back against him—and God knows how much he loved it, how long he wanted this, just to have you closer to him made this man feel complete somehow. A shiver run through your spine as you feel his belt unbuckle, he kisses you before leaning back, staring at you for permission as you nod. And without hesitation he finds his entrance starting to follow a slow and steady rhythm, not wanting to hurt you. You moaned holding tight onto his shoulders, he began to move faster making you moan louder, he smirks, “You like it? Mhm?” He whimpers in your ear as he kept going. You were so close, trying to hold tight miserably. Your legs wrapped around him as he slows his pace teasing you. “Rafe,” you whimper, “please.” Rafe smiles at you as he keeps up to his pace again finally making you reach you climax as you arch you back releasing all that you had left. He keeps going before pulling out and crashing on top for you catching his breath and softly kissing your neck. He loved every single thing about you—the way your hair fell just right, the way your eyes sparkled, the fire in your voice. He loved your stubbornness, the way you never backed down. But that was the problem. He hated the fact that he loved you. It infuriated him, this feeling he couldn’t control—couldn’t fight. You were everything he couldn’t have, everything he’d never deserve. And yet, there he was, drawn to you in a way that made him lose himself, lose the hard shell he’d built around his heart. He hated how much he wanted you. How much he needed you. Because in the end, he knew it would never end well. It never did. But in this moment, as your gaze met his, as your lips met his, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Maybe that was it—maybe all you both needed was each other this whole time. Maybe the answer had always been simpler than you thought. Maybe, despite everything that stood between you, despite the complications and the fear, all you really needed was to be together. To stop fighting it, stop pretending you didn’t care. And maybe, just maybe, it was finally time to admit that, for both of you, this was where you belonged.

Copyright © angelssmvse 2024 — I own only this story; please do not copy nor translate without permission or proper attribution. I give credit for the character Rafe Cameron from the series "Outer Banks" by Jonas Pate. This is the only platform where I have published the story.

[punkshort]

ikwya is so good!!! if u have time i would love to see their relationship before they were officially together or the night they became official. but you are so talented can’t wait for the next update!:)

Yes! Love this idea, thank you for requesting! I won't end up writing and posting this until the last chapter is posted because I have a few other things I need to work on first so I really hope you liked how it ended ❤️

Stubborn

An I Know Who You Are drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), fluff, feelings

WC: 1.4K

Joel's fingers dug into your hips as he slammed into you, eliciting a broken moan each time his thighs collided with the backs of yours. He was close, and so were you, but he didn't want it to end just yet because he knew when it was over, you would be gone.

"Joel," you whined, your voice muffled by the sheets. You frantically reached behind you to grab his wrist and he allowed himself drop down, pushing your hips into the mattress in the process with his chest pressing against your back. You found yourself face down, flat and completely confined by his body. He nipped and sucked on the side of your neck, hoping to leave a mark, while his coarse beard dragged over your soft skin.

"How's that feel, baby?" he groaned in your ear, squeezing his eyes shut when you pulsed around him.

"So good," you gasped, "so deep like this."

"I know," he murmured, biting down on his lip when he felt the familiar pull low in his belly. "Fuck, I know. So goddamn tight."

"Oh, my god!" you cried out, your arm flailing around aimlessly, trying to find something to hold onto. He grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together while maintaining a brutal pace with his hips until he felt you gush around him, curses and sobs tumbling weakly from your lips, your fingers clutching his so tightly it almost hurt.

"That's it," he praised, feeling his own climax swelling. "So good, baby. S-so good. All mine, right?"

"Mhmm."

"Say it," he commanded through gritted teeth.

"I'm yours," you mumbled weakly, still recovering from your orgasm.

That was all Joel needed to hear. He yanked his hips back, making you yelp from how roughly he pulled out, and gripped the base of his cock, stroking it until he came all over your back. Hot, white ropes of his seed painted your sweaty skin until a shiver ran down his spine.

"Shit," he whispered, gasping for air and staring down blankly at your back, watching as his spend slowly dripped over your sides. Not feeling very confident he could stand and walk to the bathroom, he leaned over to grab a bandana from his jeans pocket and wiped up his mess. You instantly pushed your knees down, lifting your lower half from the mattress, but his hand was at your back, pressing you down. You complied and he laid down on top of you, wiggling your ass underneath him with a giggle but he just smiled and closed his eyes, drinking in your scent.

"Joel, I don't think I can do round two."

"Not lookin' for round two," he mumbled, planting a kiss against your shoulder. He slid his palm down your forearm and threaded your fingers together again, enjoying the moment before it became too intimate and you began to writhe, shaking his hand loose.

"I gotta get going," you said, still pinned down by his weight.

"Why?"

You gave him a dry laugh. "Why? Because I'm tired and I want to go home."

"You can stay here."

"Joel..."

"C'mon, can we please stop this?" Joel asked, but he rolled off you anyway. He wasn't going to force you. You sighed and turned around, sitting up in bed and raking your fingers through your hair.

"What difference does it make? Everyone knows we're messing around, no one's going to make a move on me, if that's what you're worried about."

"Exactly. What difference does it make if you just stay the goddamn night once in a while? Quit bein' so stubborn," he rubbed his eyes, trying to mask his frustration.

You sighed and looked down at him, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you thought it over.

"Does it really mean that much to you?"

He dropped his hands from his face, eyes locking with yours. "Yes."

With an exasperated groan, you flicked the sheets open so you could settle in between them and rested your head on the pillow. "Alright, then."

"Really?"

"Just this once, and only because I'm exhausted," you said, eyes already closed. You wrapped your arms around your pillow with a sigh while he laid there, still staring at you.

"What if I don't want it to just be this once?" he asked softly. You cracked open one eye but didn't say anything. "What if I wanted more than just messin' around?" he added, scanning your face for any sign that you felt the same way. You had to.

He expected you to maybe get annoyed or possibly make a joke and go to sleep, but what he certainly didn't expect was for your eyes to suddenly fill with tears. His own eyes widened and he inched forward, reaching for your hand, when, much to his surprise, you met him halfway.

"I'm not a good person, Joel. I've done some terrible things," you whispered brokenly, and his chest tightened. If you only knew.

"We've all done bad shit to survive," he said, squeezing your hand.

"I've killed innocent people," you sniffled, "I've stood by and watched children-"

"Hey," he said, cutting you off, "so have I. But that don't mean we shouldn't be allowed to be happy, right?"

"I don't know. Maybe it does." It broke his heart seeing you so distraught. All he wanted to do was take your pain and shove it deep down with his own. You didn't deserve to suffer. As much as you thought otherwise, you deserved something good out of this world, and he desperately wanted to be the one to share that with you.

"C'mere," he whispered, tugging on your hand. You hesitated for a moment before sliding across the sheets and into his waiting arms. He held you close against his chest and buried his nose in your hair, trying to think of the right thing to say. "Not everythin' is black and white anymore," he began, "we do what we do to survive and protect the people we love. You ain't a bad person, baby," he planted a kiss on the top of your head and he could feel your silent tears seeping into his skin. "Is that why you've been pullin' away from me all this time? You think you don't deserve to be happy?"

He felt your shoulders shift with a little shrug and then you mumbled into his skin, "that, and maybe I'm too fucking terrified to risk losing someone I care about again."

His breath caught in his throat. You cared about him. "I ain't goin' anywhere," he said firmly, then hooked his finger under your chin, forcing your face away from his bare chest.

"You promise?" you whispered, and the way you looked so vulnerable in that moment made him weak. He swallowed thickly and nodded.

"Yeah, I promise."

You slowly carded your fingers through his hair, admiring how each curl fell back into place. "So how much more are we talking, here?" you asked, your voice sounding normal again, but he could hear the teasing lilt behind your words. He grinned.

"Oh, I want it all," he told you, watching the corners of your mouth twitch. "I wanna take candlelit baths together and hold hands while we're walkin' down the street. I wanna dance with you in front of the whole damn town and carry you home when you drink too much." You giggled and wiped the last of your tears away while his grip around your middle tightened. "I wanna take care of you when you're sick. I wanna fight 'bout stupid shit just so we can make up. But mostly I just wanna be there. When you're happy, sad, pissed off, excited... I just wanna be the one you come to, no matter what." He watched your expression soften a bit and he pinched your chin. "Think we can do that?"

You sighed and dramatically rolled your eyes. "I'm not really a bath person."

"We can negotiate that one."

You pretended to think about it for a moment, biting back your smile before nodding. You squealed when he rolled over and caged you in underneath him, his mouth crashing down on yours while his heart slammed excitedly in his chest. You wanted him, you wanted him. Then you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, his half hard cock rubbing against your center, making you both moan.

"Okay, I think I'm ready for round two," you told him with a grin.

[nerdallwritey]

Just to Ruin Me

Summary: “You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.” “It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.” “If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.” Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.” “Doing what?” “Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.” OR The morning after you spend the night with Astarion, you learn another thing or two.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 12.5k CW: smut, reader is new to sex, piv sex, vaginal fingering, dry humping, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, but don't piss of Shadowheart Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 2 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find Part 1 here. Find the masterlist here.

a/n: Thanks to everyone who read Part 1!!! Your kind comments and encouragement spurred me to write Part 2 and I hope it's a sequel that lives up to expectations!! I know the summary is a little angsty, but I promise there's more banter to be had. Everyone is still a goof, after all. Please enjoy :) (Thank you to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) As a reminder, the last part ended with the following few lines: “For now, you were content to sleep under the stars in Astarion’s arms. It was the best sleep you’d ever had.”

Taglist: @a66-1 @khaleesiofthewolves @khywren @lollipopsandlandmines @minestrones

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the best sleep you’d ever had.

Though you’d grown accustomed to roughing it in the last few weeks since the nautiloid crash, waking up in the forest was still a shock. It had its charms, sure, like the fresh air and the breeze blowing in off the mountains, but the appeal was starting to wane. Especially after one too many nights of having to take a dip in the frigid lake next to camp to rid yourself of gnoll blood. 

This morning however, you found yourself surrounded by blankets and pillows from your camp in the middle of a clearing surrounded by large pine trees, all of which had been thoughtfully arranged by the figure trancing beside you. Your own sleeping figure sighed comfortably, unbothered by the lack of a mattress or a hot bath, just a nice deep sleep-

Astarion whacked you in the face.

Your eyes shot open.

“OW?” You scrunched your nose and blinked a few times to get your bearings. 

It was still dark. The forest around you was painted a delicate shade of periwinkle. You’d hazard a guess that it was just a little before dawn. 

At some point in the night, you’d rolled onto your back, away from Astarion, who was now curled to your right, his back facing you. He must have just rolled over, explaining the harsh wake up from his forearm. You smiled softly and instinctively brought your hand to rub your forehead where he’d made the unfortunate contact. 

Blinking a little more, your eyes were beginning to adjust. From this angle, you had a clear line of sight to the large scar that overran a majority of his back. You squinted in the dark to try and get a clearer view of the terrible thing, but came up short due to the shadows of tree branches being cast from above. Still just a mandala of jagged lines and brutal curves. When you got your hands on Cazador, you’d…

No.

No, that wasn’t your fight. 

But you’d be gods damned if you wouldn’t be there for every bloody moment Astarion faced him, giving support however you could. Though you had to admit that it would be so gratifying to corner the bastard and cast a quick little Otto’s Irresistible Dance… Assuming you’d be strong enough to cast it by then… Gods, he’d look so fucking stupid just before Astarion plunged a knife through his heart-

Enough. Battle strategies and sick, twisted (but satisfying) revenge fantasies later. Right now you noticed that the shifting of the shadows on his back wasn’t from a breeze shaking the branches above you, but because Astarion himself was trembling. 

Your first instinct was to reach out and touch him, but you quickly retracted your hand. Based on the short whimpers he was letting out, it seemed like he was having a nightmare.

How was one supposed to wake someone from a nightmare again? With Astarion you’d have to be extra careful; you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d stowed a knife somewhere within these blankets that he might reach for in a surge of waking fear. 

That… would not be pleasant. 

You shifted to sit up and look around.

Ow.

A dull throbbing made itself known between your legs.

No, that was great. Spectacular, in fact. You’d have to stop and assess later.

Gingerly, you got onto your knees and peered around at your surroundings. Astarion had done a decent job of cleaning up the clearing to make room for this blanket nest, so there wasn’t a poking stick to be seen within reaching distance.

Not that you were going to poke him with a stick… but the thought had crossed your mind. You were still tired! You’d been fucked for the first time last night! There was a lot going on! 

You shook your head to clear the stupid overlapping thoughts and set to looking around for a wayward pillow. You spotted one in the far corner and made your way over to it carefully but with some haste to end Astarion’s unconscious suffering. 

You crawled back over to him. And then backed up a little. Just in case.

“Astarion,” you sang quietly. 

Astarion continued trembling, but you heard him inhale sharply. A good sign?

You raised your voice a little, but kept the same musical cadence. “Astaaaarioooon.”

Nothing.

Okay fine. 

“Sorry,” you said quietly, then threw the pillow at Astarion, hitting him squarely on the back of the head. You leaned forward to grab your own pillow as a protective shield as he gasped and shot up.

“What the hells? What’s happening?” Astarion rolled onto his back and frantically looked around until his eyes landed on you. 

You smiled sheepishly and waved at him lamely from behind your pillow. “Hi.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes, confused. He shook his head, then lifted a hand to the back of his head where the pillow had hit him. “What did you do?”

“You were having a nightmare.”

“Oh, I know what I was doing,” his tone was sarcastic. “What were you doing?”

You looked down at your lap, guilty. “I couldn’t remember how to wake someone up from a nightmare.”

“So you assaulted me?”

“I didn’t know if you had a knife!”

“Why would I have a knife? What is happening?!” He sat up fully and brought a hand to his forehead as if he were in pain. 

“Are you okay?”

“Thankfully, I’ll live,” he opened his eyes and looked at you, his hand still on his forehead. 

You huffed. “I meant with the nightmare.”

Astarion sighed and closed his eyes again. “It’s far too early to discuss this.” He tilted his head up towards the sky, which was getting brighter with every passing moment. A practiced smirk appeared on his face and he looked at you once more. “I’d much rather know if you’re okay, darling.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“We had a lot of fun last night, didn’t we?”

“Seeing as how I’m always a lot of fun, I don’t understand why you’re posing this question.” You looked down your nose at him. 

He hung his head and sighed exasperatedly. “Will you simply allow me to work my charms on you?”

You tutted. “Is that what you were trying to do just now?”

“Attempting to, yes.” Astarion crossed his arms. “I’m usually irresistible.”

You snorted. “Okay,” you said, a small smile appearing on your face. “I’m going to ignore your lack of an answer about your nightmare and will elect to wait until you’re ready to tell me about it yourself.”

Astarion pursed his lips.

“But go ahead,” you rearranged your legs, wincing mildly as you moved to sit cross legged, “charm me.”

A look of worry flashed over Astarion’s face when he saw you wince, but the concern was quickly overtaken by an all too self-satisfied grin. “Feeling it this morning, are we?”

You rolled your eyes. “I knew you’d be happy about this.”

“Positively delighted, my sweet.” He leaned forward and kissed you gently, bringing a hand up to your cheek. You brought your own hand up to lay against his. He pulled away and appraised your face smugly. “I was completely enamored by your performance last night.” You were about to open your mouth to say something, but Astarion interrupted. “Don’t even think about mentioning that you’re a bard and that of course you’re good at performing, or something like that.”

You closed your mouth. You were going to say something like that. Instead you said, “You were pretty good yourself.”

He brought his hands up to make air quotes. “I’ve ‘ruined you,’ from what I recall.”

You groaned. “I just said that to make you cum.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, my dear.” His face was still smug, but he motioned for you to come closer. You scooted forward and he lifted you slightly to sit on his lap. 

He leaned up and kissed you deeply, his tongue swiping your bottom lip for entrance. You moaned in response and opened your mouth for him. Though the rest of his body was cold, his mouth was warm and inviting, and you leaned in further to try and get closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tilted your head slightly to get a better angle. You’d been mildly distracted last night; had he always smelled this good?

When Astarion pulled back suddenly, you couldn’t help the whine that escaped at the loss. He hummed in satisfaction, and his voice was low and seductive when he spoke.

“Every part of your perfect body whispers temptations-”

You giggled. “What?”

“Shush dear, I’m charming you.” He cleared his throat, “-it’s as if the gods made you just to ruin me.”

“So now I’ve ruined you?” You raised your eyebrows teasingly.

“Wait, no-”

You leaned your forehead onto his and laughed. “And that one usually works?”

He blew out a puff of air. “You’re an unusual one, I’ll give you that.” 

You shrugged, pleased with yourself.

“But yes,” Astarion continued, “I’ve made plenty of previous lovers swoon with that particular line.”

“Show me what else you’ve got, then,” you challenged.

Astarion tilted his head in thought. “Let’s see… I can’t use the ‘cried from your lips’ line because I used that one last night…” You scoffed joyfully, mockingly scandalized that he’d already used a line on you. He met your eye and smirked. “How about this one: When I’m with you, I feel practically alive, yet I crave only to die again, with you.”

The sultry tone of his voice did send a pang of want through your body, reminding you that you were only wearing Astarion’s shirt and nothing else. You shifted uncomfortably. 

“How romantic,” you said, trying to keep your voice nonchalant. “I didn’t think you liked dying the first time.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes, sensing your deflection and smirked, looking down at where you sat on his lap. He rolled his hips, which made you inhale sharply. “I see that one did do something for you,” he leaned forward and kissed your neck. 

You exhaled slowly, “I blame that stupid sexy voice of yours.”

Astarion growled against your throat and you shivered, bringing your hands up to his back. 

“Astarion,” you sighed and he hummed in response, licking over the twin wounds he’d left the night before. You sat up a little straighter. “Wait.”

He immediately pulled back and looked at you with concern. “What is it?”

“I just thought of something,” you said.

Astarion raised his eyebrows and nodded, wanting you to continue.

“Can I borrow your fangs?”

“My-?” His tongue instinctively flicked over his teeth.

“Because I want to leave a lasting impression on you,” you tilted your head at him to show off the marks he’d left on your throat. You shimmied your shoulders a little for good measure. 

“I’m leaving,” Astarion made to get up with you still on his lap and you laughed loudly.

“No! No! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I wanted to try a dumb line on you, too!” You threw your arms around his neck and hid your face in his shoulder. You felt him kiss your hair.

“You’re lucky I don’t travel with you for your personality,” he joked. 

“I’d say ‘I’m a lot of fun’ again but I think you’d actually stop talking to me.” You pulled back to look at him.

“And you’d be right.” He kissed you chastely and then adjusted you on his lap. You winced a little again and he looked genuinely sympathetic. “I might have a way to ease the pain from last night,” he said. “Do you trust me?”

You smiled at him. “Yes.”

He smiled back. “Good.” He positioned your arms over his shoulders. “Hang on, my love.” You crossed your arms where they hung behind him and waited to see what he would do. 

Without warning, you felt one of his cold fingers slide through your folds. You hissed at the sensation and looked at Astarion. 

“Supposedly, massaging the area can help,” he was trying to sound knowledgeable, but the look in his eyes was one full of lust. Then he tutted, looking down. “You could be wetter, darling.” His thumb began to circle your clit.

Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, and you leaned forward again to rest your forehead on his shoulder. 

“Do you want my cock again, love? You took me so well last night, I was so proud of you,” he’d moved his mouth next to your ear and was speaking with the same sultry tone that he had a minute ago. You whimpered at his praise and rolled your hips to get his thumb to press you harder. Astarion let out a low groan. “That’s it, you’re getting so wet for me, you’re so good.”

After a few more tight circles, you practically sobbed when you felt him take his thumb away from your clit.

“Shh, shh, I know,” he cooed, “but we want you to feel better, remember?”

You let out a frustrated sound. “I already was feeling better.”

Astarion chuckled. “Trust me, would you? Impatient.” His tone was nothing but fond.

His other fingers began massaging the area around your entrance. You winced and bit your lip. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” you confirmed. “I assume this will get better?”

“That’s the idea,” he kissed your ear and you nodded against his shoulder. 

You rolled your hips, attempting to get friction where you needed it. 

“Just a little longer,” Astarion said, moving his fingers gently around your cunt.

You hummed an acknowledgement and kept rolling your hips, trying to combat this weird form of edging that was happening. 

Finally, Astarion ceased his massaging and brought his thumb back to your clit. You let out a long shuddering breath and squeezed your eyes tight, adjusting your hips to roll against his thigh. 

“There you go, my love,” Astarion said, voice still in your ear. “I’ll make you cum for behaving so well.”

You whined loudly as his thumb picked up the pace. You began rolling your hips at an equally fast pace. “More,” you whined, willing your climax to approach faster.

“Not right now, darling. Let’s give you a break there, shall we?” Astarion used his free hand to pet your hair. 

“But you asked if I wanted your cock again,” you whined.

“And while I’m pleased to hear that you’d like it again, let’s relax and get you off like this for now, okay?” 

You groaned but nodded, squeezing your eyes shut again and focusing on the pleasure Astarion was currently providing. “Harder,” you instructed.

Astarion pressed down harder on your clit with his thumb. He swept his index and middle finger through your folds, coating them in your slick. He quickly swapped those fingers with his thumb, changing the sensation by swapping one finger for two and adding more of your arousal to the mix. 

You keened and gripped his bicep. “Harder!” You instructed again, desperate and approaching the edge. You could feel the coil in your stomach preparing to let go.

Astarion pushed again and brought his lips to your ear once more. 

“I just thought of something, precious thing,” he murmured.

You blinked at him, your eyes unfocused and half lidded.

“More of a question, really,” he clarified.

You squeezed your eyes tight, nodding. You were on the precipice of your orgasm and could feel it fastly approaching. You slammed your hips against Astarion’s thigh as he continued to rub your clit brutally. 

“Do you believe in love at first bite?” He leaned forward and kissed your throat, then began to suck a new mark into the flesh there. Contrary to his pun, he wouldn’t drink from you without your expressed permission first.

It did, however, send you crashing over the edge. You moaned loudly, Astarion’s name tumbling repeatedly out of your mouth. The vision behind your eyelids was white and you reached out blindly to grip Astarion’s shoulders. His lips detached themselves from your throat and found your own. His tongue was immediately in your mouth, swallowing your moans and shouts of his name.

When you came down, you disconnected from the kiss and opened your eyes, a lopsided grin on your face. 

“Thank you,” you said. “I do feel better.”

Astarion smirked. “I knew you would.” He brought his fingers, still coated in your essence, up to his mouth and sucked them clean. You watched, mesmerized by the way his cheeks hollowed and his eyes fluttered shut. He pulled them out with a lewd pop. “Delicious.”

You felt your face flush, embarrassed by his display, despite just cumming in his lap. 

“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed about this,” Astarion said, reading your expression immediately. “What you should feel embarrassed about is the fact that you came because I told a joke.”

“I did not!” You protested.

“You absolutely did,” Astarion said. “And it was a particularly bad one, too.” He clicked his tongue. “You must feel so ashamed.”

You groaned. “I came because you started kissing my neck!”

Astarion raised his eyebrows, clearly not believing you. “It’s okay, darling, no one here was under the impression that you aren’t incredibly lame.” He gave you a pitying look, then kissed your nose and you laughed. He pulled back and looked at you fondly, a dopey half smile on his face. Then he looked up at the sky.

The periwinkle you’d awoken to was now vibrant shades of orange and pink. 

“Are you okay if I move you?” Astarion asked.

“Um… sure?” You weren’t sure why he was asking, and helped to move yourself off of him. You did feel a bit less sore thanks to his help. 

He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, then bent to pick up a rag to wipe off his pants. 

“Sorry,” you said.

Astarion shook his head. “Comes with the territory.” You were about to make a joke but he held up a finger and gave you a warning look. “Don’t.”

You held up your hands innocently. 

He tossed you the rag after and then your pants and underthings.

“Clean up,” he instructed, “then get dressed.”

You furrowed your brows, your stomach dropping suddenly. He didn’t expect you to leave right now, did he? He hadn’t fucked you last night, then brought you more pleasure this morning, only for him to send you back to camp like it hadn’t happened, right?

Astarion snorted. He was watching you as he slipped on his shoes. “Relax, darling, I see that face. I just want to show you something.” He held out a hand to help you up.

“Okay,” you smiled, soothed by the pleasant look on his face. “Do you want your shirt back?” You made to lift it over your head.

“Keep it for now, dear,” Astarion said. “I rather like that on you, truthfully.” The collar was slipping off your shoulder as you pulled on your pants, and you made no move to adjust it, opting not to put your bra back on yet.

“Do you want to wear my shirt?” you teased.

“Tempting, but I fear I’d look better in it than you do.”

“Excellent point, don’t do that.” You adjusted the ruffles on Astarion’s shirt and felt a light breeze on your cleavage through the lacey opening at the collar. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he said. You looked up and caught Astarion staring at your chest.

You laughed as he cleared his throat, then gestured deeper into the woods with his head. “This way.” He held out a tentative hand and you took it eagerly, bringing the back of his palm up to your face to leave a gentle kiss. Astarion squeezed your hand slightly at the contact, and began heading further into the forest, away from camp. A pleasant silence hung between the two of you and you rubbed your thumb absently along the back of his hand.

It wasn’t long before the trees started to thin and you heard the sound of rushing water somewhere close by. You emerged from the trees to find a cliff overlooking a ravine below. On the other side of the ravine was more forest, and beyond that, you could faintly see the Sea of Swords. The sun peeked out over the horizon, bright reddish orange in the distance. Its glow was a welcome sight and you found yourself in awe of the view.

Astarion let go of your hand and sat, dangling his feet over the edge of the cliff. You hesitantly stepped forward and sat beside him, opting instead to sit with one knee up, the other leg crossed beneath it. Astarion sat back on his arms. The sun reflected off his skin in the most beautiful golden and magenta hues. His hair, somehow still perfect despite your night together, was being jostled lightly by the breeze. He’d closed his eyes and tipped his head up, basking. You couldn’t help watching him as you rested your cheek on your bent knee. 

He didn’t open his eyes when he said, “I try to come out here every morning.” 

You sat in silence, continuing to watch him as you prepared to listen to whatever he’d say next. 

“After two hundred years in darkness, you forget how lovely the sunrise is,” he said. “I don’t ever want to miss another.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have been like,” you said softly. 

Astarion hummed in acknowledgment and opened his eyes. “I’d catch glimpses while lurking around the city for too long before dawn, hopping from shadow to shadow until I made it back to Cazador’s manor.” His eyes didn’t waver from the sun in the distance. “But there were moments where I’d catch a glimpse of it over the Chionthar.” His tone became sardonic. “The promise of a new day emerging! Something that I would never get to participate in.” He sighed. “I’d linger as long as I could in those moments.” 

You nodded, picturing a hopeful Astarion hiding behind buildings and in alleys, trying to get a fleeting look at a phenomenon that occurred every day, one that you took for granted. Your heart ached for him. 

He continued. “I never quite told you what Cazador made his spawn do for him.”

You tried to recall what Astarion had said to you before. Only that he’d been made to go out into the city and bring back “the most beautiful souls” he could find. Then Cazador would make him either drink from a disgusting dead rat, or abuse him for refusing. The thought made you visibly shudder. 

“I know that you had to bring people back to-” you lowered your voice, as if saying his name might summon him, “-Cazador, against your will. And that he’d kill them.” 

Astarion nodded his head once, remorsefully. “I never told you how we lured them.”

You could see pain etched into his features. You reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. He flinched a bit at the contact, but settled when he looked over at you.

“You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.”

“It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.”

“If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.”

Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.” 

You cocked your head sympathetically. “And I take it two hundred years as a slave hasn’t really afforded you any choice.”

“Correct,” he sighed. “As a spawn, your vampiric master has complete control over your body and your actions. Even in moments where I wanted to defy or fight back, I was powerless to do anything.” 

Your heart jumped into your throat. You hadn’t realized that was how it worked. Having no control over yourself or your actions sounded like a complete nightmare and you were glad that you’d hopefully never have to experience it. Knowing that that had been Astarion’s entire existence for the past two centuries made you sick to your stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, just as you’d said the last few times he’d shared glimpses of his past.

Astarion’s eyes were closed once again as he inhaled deeply, then exhaled. He continued to bask in the rising sun for a few silent moments and you watched as it slowly rose higher into the sky. 

“That nightmare I had,” he said, his voice coming out quiet, “I’ve had it before.”

Again, you said nothing and waited for him to continue.

“I actually had the same one the night you let me drink your blood for the first time.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me that drinking my blood was some sort of revenge plot against me for haunting your nightmares.”

Astarion smiled a little. “No, it wasn’t about you. It was about Cazador.”

“You know, I’m really starting to dislike this guy,” you said, knowing how difficult this was for him and trying to keep his mood up with another little joke. 

“You and me both,” he sounded tired. “In the dream, I’m in the forest. Cazador appears and recites the rules of being his vampire spawn.” He held up his hand and recounted them on his fingers: “‘First, thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures. Second, thou shall obey me in all things. Third, thou shalt not leave my side, unless directed. Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine.’” 

You listened patiently as Astarion recited each rule almost mechanically. You scrunched your nose with each passing instruction and rolled your eyes dramatically when Astarion finished.

“What a prick.”

He smiled again. “With an archaic speech pattern.”

“I was going to mention his archaic speech pattern.”

The smile faded slowly as Astarion returned to his thoughts. “The dream ends with Cazador telling me I’m his forever. That I can never escape.” 

You let the words hang in the air for a moment. “And yet, here you are.”

“Here I am,” he said humorlessly. He laid down fully on his back, the sun high enough to bathe him completely in its glow. He rested his arms behind his head and angled himself to look at you. “I realized, if I could walk in the sun, what other vampiric laws could I break?”

You looked down at him, admiring the light glinting off his bare chest. “So you decided to test your theory on me? I’m touched.” You held a hand to your chest, pretending to be deeply moved.

“In all honesty, I thought you were the least likely to kill me if I got caught.” He smirked at you. “And it would seem I was right.”

“I wouldn’t have let any of the others kill you,” you said firmly.

Astarion chuckled. “How sweet. My brave little protector.” He reached over to pinch your cheek.

You swatted him away. “Hey, who saved your ass from a bugbear yesterday?”

He shrugged. “I would have been fine.”

You leaned forward and shoved him lightly, making him laugh and throw his arm forward as a shield. 

When his laughter died down, his face grew a touch more serious again. “When you so graciously assaulted me this morning, he’d just finished telling me rule number three; that I can’t leave him unless he tells me to.”

You thought for a moment. “Which begs the question,” Astarion looked over at you expectantly, “how did you end up out here? From what I recall, the sun was still out when the nautiloid reached the Gate. You didn’t have the tadpole yet, so how’d you escape?”

“I wouldn’t say it was much of an escape.” His eyes shifted up to the sky, his expression thoughtful. “I was looking for new victims for Cazador. It was dusk and I had just been given the order to go out and hunt. I was weaving through shadows, avoiding the setting sun, but there’s only so many places one can hide from a giant tentacle that won’t burn you to a crisp. One of the tentacles caught me when I attempted to flee down an alleyway. A complete accident.”

“If it helps, I tripped while running away.”

“Of course you did.” He sighed. “Figures it would take an alien invasion to finally free me from his clutches. Not some,” he waved his hands in the air, gesturing to nothing in particular, “heroic figure sent by the gods to save me and smite that horrible man down to somewhere further and more vile than the Nine Hells.” His hands fell ungracefully to his sides.

He wasn’t wrong. How could any god worth their salt claim to be holier than thou when such suffering was occuring right under their noses? And you were pretty sure, based on tales you’d heard of Mystra and Shar from Gale and Shadowheart, that the gods hadn’t planned for the nautiloids or the rise of the Absolute. Yet if it weren’t for any of that, Astarion would still be trapped in Baldur’s Gate and your adventure thus far would have looked very different.

“If I’d known, I would have done something,” you said, knowing it was more complicated than that, but still wanting to help somehow. 

“Darling, if I’d met you in Baldur’s Gate, I would not have hesitated to take you to Cazador.”

That hurt. 

You said as much. “Ouch.”

“Well,” he sounded angry, though he directed it up towards the sky and not at you, “I wouldn’t have had a choice! Sure, it would have been a little novel, given how inexperienced you are, but regardless, I would have handed you off to him as soon as I’d made you finish.”

Ah. So that was how he lured people. It made sense, now that you put the pieces together; Astarion was so experienced because he had to be. Of course unsuspecting victims would fall prey to the allure of an eternally beautiful vampire, especially the one laying next to you. Of course the promise of pleasure from someone that sexy would be the obvious thing to agree to. It was a wonder your paths had never crossed before the nautiloid. 

“Once,” Astarion broke the silence that had fallen between you, his tone distant, “in the first decade of my slavery, I found a darling boy who I couldn’t bear to bring back to him.” He finally looked over at you, his eyes full of sadness. “So I ran, instead of hurting that sweet man.”

You reached for his hand, then thought better of it. All his snide “don’t touch me’s” on the road now held a new, terrible weight.

“After Cazador caught me, the bastard sealed me, starving, inside a dusty tomb, all on my own, for an entire year. A year of silence”

A hand flew to your mouth. “Astarion…” you felt your eyes begin to prick with tears and did your best to will them away, fearing that they might make Astarion stop sharing.

He went on. “Months of scratching my hands raw, trying to carve my way out, more months of not moving at all. Months wishing only for death.” He took a deep breath, then blew it out shakily. “So no, I wouldn’t have hesitated, had we crossed paths.”

You opened and closed your mouth several times, attempting to find words that could possibly compose an appropriate response to the horrors you currently refused to picture. “I have no words,” is what you finally settled on, followed by an, “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing can make up for that,” he said quietly. “Not even Cazador’s death.” He paused. “Well, it would help a little, but the coward deserves a fate worse than death.”

“Can I hug you?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself.

Astarion blinked a few times, then sat up. “What?”

“I just… you’ve been through such hell and I want to hug you, but I don’t want to touch you without your permission.”

He looked you up and down and saw the sincerity evident on your face. “I… suppose.” He pulled his legs up from where they were still dangling above the ravine and turned to face you head on. 

“Thank you,” you said, still attempting to keep your tears at bay.

You leaned forward and weaved your arms beneath Astarion’s, hooking your arms up and placing your hands on his shoulder blades. You settled your face between his neck and shoulder and could feel that his arms were frozen rigidly in place in front of him. You took a shaky breath and stayed still, allowing Astarion to move at his own pace. 

His arms finally settled around you and he bent his head so his cheek rested against your hair. 

The two of you stayed like that for a while, relishing in the other’s closeness. You moved your hands back and forth across his back absently. When you caught yourself, you pulled back to look at him and asked, “Is it okay that I’m touching your back?”

Astarion chuckled softly. “Yes, my dear. It’s rather nice, actually.”

You smiled and nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck. Seriously, did he always smell this good?

Despite the pleasant distraction, something was nagging at your thoughts.

“Can I ask you something?” you murmured into his skin.

Astarion sighed dramatically. “If it has anything to do with my fangs, I’ll rip your throat out.”

You snickered to yourself. “No, not another dumb joke, I promise.”

“Then by all means.”

You pulled back once more to look at him in the face. His eyes widened when he saw your nervous expression. You avoided holding his gaze, feeling a little small. 

“Do you… want to be with me?”

Astarion looked taken aback. “What?”

“I mean… well…” You were having trouble sorting through your thoughts. Who were you to make this moment about yourself when Astarion had just been so open with you? And why couldn’t you trust him in what he had told you last night? Still, you had to know. You’d made it clear how much you cared for him and how much sleeping with him had meant to you. 

Given his past experiences, it made sense why he’d sleep with you, but you wanted to hear him say it. If this was all some ploy to manipulate you into doing what he wanted, even without Cazador’s instruction, you needed to know now. 

“Was I… just another conquest?” you asked, your tears reemerging. “Because if that’s the case, then I think we should end whatever this is.”

Astarion’s face was now inches away from yours. He moved a hand from your back and shifted it up to wipe a wayward tear that had escaped. He said your name softly.

“No, my sweet,” his other hand started rubbing soothing circles into your back. He pulled back a little. “Well, yes.”

You scoffed, another tear rolling down your cheek. 

Astarion was quick to correct. “No, no! I mean, at first, yes, it was my plan to seduce you and sleep with you.”

You let out a small whimpering noise and he tried to catch your eye. You kept your gaze glued on something in the distance, unseeing.

Astarion cleared his throat. “You- You’re valuable; someone willing to feed me, someone who advocated for me to stay with you all, even though you knew vampires were dangerous, someone who would protect me in battle, even if it meant sacrificing something important to you.”

Try as he might to get your attention back on him, your face remained blank as you stared into the distance.

“I wanted your continued protection.” He shrugged. “Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in and I thought I could secure that with sex.”

That got you to look at him, a sour expression on your face. “Have you met me?”

Astarion chuckled. “Yes, I have. And that’s what threw me for such a loop.”

You humphed.

“When I realized you’d be more of a challenge, I modified my plan.”

“I don’t love the direction this is headed.”

“Stay with me, darling” he said, “I promise I’m going somewhere with this.”

You exhaled and nodded for him to continue. 

“I did want to give you a good first experience, that much was true, but I will admit that I was still planning on using you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You realize how bad this sounds, right?”

“Will you-” he sighed. “Let me finish, damn you,” he brought his forehead to yours briefly, then pulled back. “So imagine how stupid I felt when I realized I genuinely felt something for you.”

That made you smile softly. 

He groaned. “And yes, it is because I find you to be… a lot of fun.” The last phrase sounded like it hurt coming out. 

Your soft smile transformed into one of smug satisfaction. “And when did you come to this conclusion?”

“Well first of all, look at you.” He smiled slyly and you playfully pushed his face away from yours, just as you had last night. After a moment, Astarion looked up, as if searching through his thoughts. “I suppose I’ve always found you to be amusing. You were so easy to fool in the beginning. I mean, the very first day we met, you thought I had one of those brain things cornered.”

“I had no reason not to believe you! And then you held a knife to my throat!” “Ah, memories,” he sighed wistfully. “But then we started traveling together, and I don’t think I’ve ever laughed more. Killing those goblins outside the Grove, fooling those trolls into working for us, taking out those Paladins of Tyr… you always had a sarcastic comment to contend with my sarcastic comments. Which is saying something.”

You snorted. “As if I wouldn’t have something to say.”

Astarion nodded. “You do talk a lot.” 

You chuckled softly, feeling better. Your arms were still wrapped around Astarion.

“It was when I kissed you.” His tone was thoughtful.

“Hmm?”

“When I really kissed you for the first time, there was something different about it.” His eyes flicked down to your lips momentarily. “Suddenly everything we’d been through came rushing back to my mind and there was this… pleasure I hadn’t felt. In an awfully long time.”

You smiled like a dope, bringing your forehead to his.

“I realized you weren’t going anywhere. And that you genuinely cared about what I thought and what I wanted.” He looked at you almost shyly. “No one in the past two hundred years has stayed.” Astarion pulled back and his inflection became flamboyant and playful: “Not that they had much of a choice, but it was a somewhat shocking revelation.” His tone then returned to one of sincerity: “And no one has cared for me as you have.”

You looked away, embarrassed by the kind words.“What can I say, I’m incredible.”

Astarion blew out a cool puff of air that tickled your face. “Annoyingly, you are.”

You looked back at him and smirked. “For me, it was when you asked me how I’d want to die.”

Astarion snorted. “Pardon?”

“When you asked me how I wanted to die on one of our first nights at camp. I genuinely had the thought, ‘Now here’s a guy who knows how to have a good time.’”

Astarion laughed brightly. You mirrored his grin.

“You said you wanted to be decapitated.” 

“How romantic of me,” he said, raising a seductive eyebrow. 

“Well it did spark the crush I’ve been harboring this whole time,” you felt your face heat up at the admission. “That, and your stupid beautiful face.”

Astarion sniffed mockingly. “Thank you, not enough people mention that.” Then he looked at you fondly. “But that long, eh? How adorable.” He rubbed his nose against yours teasingly. “And here you thought nothing would come of it.”

“Nothing usually does!” you exclaimed.

He laughed and leaned forward to kiss you once. “Not so loud.”

You lifted an eyebrow and gestured to the empty landscape around you. Astarion shrugged. You lowered your voice despite the lack of other people to bother.

“I am glad something came of it this time.” You settled your forehead onto his shoulder.

“As am I, my love,” he kissed your hair. “Though I have something else to admit.”

You pulled back and looked at him curiously.

Out of nowhere, he presented you with a knife.

“I did have a knife.”

You scoffed incredulously and whacked his arm. “I KNEW YOU HAD A KNIFE, YOU BASTARD!” You laughed loudly and pushed him backwards. 

He fell back onto his arms, laughing with you as you crawled on top and kissed him deeply. 

“Careful darling,” he murmured against your lips, “don’t move.”

You paused your movements, your lips still pressed firmly against his own. Astarion turned his head slightly to look over to his left at the treeline you’d emerged from not too long ago. You pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth and felt him grin. Then you felt his right arm come up and jerk slightly, followed by a “THUNK” sound off to your right. 

You waited a moment before you asked, “Can I move?” Your mouth was smushed against his face and your voice came out muffled.

He chuckled. “Yes, you can move now.” 

You sat up and looked to your right, the knife Astarion had pulled was now wedged deeply into the trunk of a nearby tree. You raised your eyebrows at him.

He stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam, his voice straining as he went. “Impressed?”

“Honestly? Yes.” You leaned back down and kissed him again. 

He hummed and his mouth moved against yours at a leisurely pace, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair. You kissed down his jaw and throat before coming to his collarbone and stopping.

“You’re sure you don’t want to fuck me again?” Your words came out a little shy and Astarion laughed. 

He twirled the ends of your hair around his finger. “Delicious as you were, my sweet, I think I’d prefer to take my time with you.” 

You pursed your lips, disappointed. 

“That’s not to say I don’t want to, darling, but…” His fingers stopped twirling your hair as he thought. “Like you said earlier, so much has changed in the last few hours. I’ve only just discovered that I can sleep with somebody because I actually want to.” His hand moved from your hair to your cheek. “I think I need some time to adjust to that.”

You nodded and bent to kiss him. “I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

He smiled up at you. “Thank you.”

You spent a few moments just looking at him, admiring how his eyes sparkled in the sun like rubies. You sighed noticeably. 

“What is it, love?”

You shook your head. “It’s nothing.”

“Darling…” He raised his eyebrows at you. 

“No, it’s inappropriate right now.” You looked away.

You felt his hand in your hair, and his voice was conspiratory, “I love when you talk dirty.”

You sighed again and looked him in the eye. “One of these days, when you’re ready, I’m going to look into your gorgeous eyes as I make you come.”

Astarion sputtered out a surprised laugh. “Easy there, lover,” he gave you a sultry look, “I may just take you up on that.”

You sat up and spread your hands over his chest. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

He brought both hands up to his face and groaned loudly before dragging them back down his face and looking at you. “Come lay in the sun with me, will you?”

You pouted but rolled off of him and curled into his side. 

“There now,” he said, arching his chest upwards towards the sky where the sun had now risen for the day, “isn’t this nice?”

You inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the trees and the sounds of the ravine below. You exhaled and closed your eyes, warmed by the sun and comforted by the presence of Astarion beside you. He himself had his eyes closed and looked peacefully content. You nuzzled further into his side, enjoying how his cool skin contrasted with the warmth coming from above.

Before you could even register that you were still tired from your early wakeup call this morning, you’d drifted back into a comfortable sleep.

~~~~~

You were awoken some time later by a lick to the face. 

You shut your eyes tighter and groaned. “Gross, Astarion, I’m trying to sleep.” You threw an arm over your eyes, the sun now directly overhead. 

“Did you find them, boy?” A voice shouted from the distance.

Your eyes shot open and found Scratch panting above you, wagging his tail excitedly. 

You sat up quickly and immediately leaned over to shake Astarion who appeared to be trancing soundly. 

“Astarion,” you shook him anxiously. 

He scowled, his eyes still closed. He groaned lowly.

“Astarion, my dear, my sweet, my beloved,” you shook him harder and his eyes opened immediately. He sat up, fast as lightning.

“What’s happening? Where’s my knife?” He looked around frantically until his eyes landed on you. “Ah,” he said, calming, “déjà vu.” 

“They’re coming,” you hissed.

“Who?” Astarion narrowed his eyes, thoughts still foggy from his trance. 

“No FUCKING way!” Came Karlach’s voice from the treeline. 

You looked over and found her with an elated grin on her face and her hands on her knees. She started laughing loudly and you hid your face in your hands. 

“You guys did NOT,” she wheezed. 

“Hello Karlach,” Astarion’s voice sounded nonchalant beside you. “What brings you out to ruin our beauty sleep?” 

“Did you find them?” Shadowheart soon emerged from the forest and stopped in her tracks. She surveyed the area and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Astarion, tell me you didn’t.”

“Did what, darling?” He sounded smug and you looked over at him. His expression matched his tone. “You’ll have to be more specific.” He rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I fucking knew this would happen,” Karlach said, coming down from her laughing fit. “Soldier’s had her eye on you for a while now, Fangs.”

“Karlach!” You whisper-shouted.

“Oh, I’m aware,” you felt Astarion turn his head to look at you. 

Suddenly Gale, Lae’zel, and Wyll joined the fray. Scratch ran to them and happily weaved between them as they emerged. 

“We heard a commotion, did you find them?” Gale halted when he saw you and Astarion sitting together on the ground, him shirtless, you wearing his shirt. “No,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yes,” Astarion said, tilting his head against yours. You gave him a dirty look. 

“Chk! Was that filthy nest of our blankets your doing?” Lae’zel asked, cradling her greatsword proudly. 

You groaned and hid your face in your hands again. 

“It would appear so,” Wyll confirmed awkwardly. 

“You vampires have a disgusting way of mating if that nest was any indication,” Lae’zel narrowed her eyes and lifted her nose in the air judgmentally. “Far too soft.”

Astarion scoffed and pulled back from you. “I’ll have you know that vampires mate in the most satisfying- well, we don’t mate, necessarily, we’re not dogs, but we, well at least I, am always an exemplary lover.”

Shadowheart ignored him and walked forward, crouching down and resting a hand on your shoulder. You looked at her. “Are you okay?”

“What?” you laughed in disbelief. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“He didn’t… coerce you into something, did he?”

“Excuse me?” Astarion sounded insulted. “I always ask permission first, darling.”

“Your charms can be quite overwhelming at times, Astarion,” Gale said. 

“And wouldn’t you like having my charms turned on you, wizard,” Astarion sneered. 

“Well, let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Wyll held up his hands, gesturing for the others to relax.

“Everyone!” You raised your voice. All eyes settled on you. “Nothing happened between us that I didn’t expressly and happily agree to.”

Karlach started chuckling again. “Good for you, Soldier.”

“Thank you, Karlach,” said Astarion. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

He shrugged. “What?”

You groaned and stood up, wiping grass and forest debris off your clothes. You adjusted Astarion’s shirt on your shoulders, making sure you weren’t showing off too much to your companions. 

“Is there a reason you all came out here? Or was it just to mortify me? Because mission accomplished!”

“It’s midday,” informed Wyll. “We grew worried when the two of you seemingly vanished and didn’t return.”

“Halsin and the tieflings are coming to camp tonight to celebrate our victory against the goblins,” Shadowheart crossed her arms. 

“Yes, and it wouldn’t be a great look if our leader and the gangly one were missing,” Gale said.

“Gangly?!” Astarion exclaimed, very clearly not gangly. 

“You’re- okay, well, I hadn’t seen you shirtless before now,” Gale amended. 

“Like what you see?” Astarion teased. 

“Astarion,” you scolded. 

He sighed and got up, wrapping an arm around you and resting a hand on your hip. 

You went red as you watched your companions track his hand. 

“Listen, people,” Astarion said, sounding serious. 

You saw your companions’ eyes shift to the vampire. 

“Don’t give her a hard time. This was my doing.” Shadowheart was about to say something but Astarion raised his voice a bit. “While yes, she gave permission in everything that we did, this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t suggested it in the first place.”

“I could have suggested something much better, surely,” Lae’zel huffed.

“I mean, did you-?” Karlach thrust her hips in the air with her fists at her sides.

“Oh my gods,” you groaned.

“I don’t kiss and tell, darling,” Astarion said, squeezing your hip slightly. 

Karlach smirked smugly and winked at you both. 

You shook your head and looked up, silently begging any god that was listening to kill you and to do it quickly. 

“We should get back to camp,” Wyll suggested diplomatically. “Let these two collect themselves.” 

“So what does this mean?” Shadowheart asked, ignoring Wyll. 

“Shadowheart,” Wyll warned but she waved him off.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Are you only going to sleep with the pathetic vampire moving forward?” Lae’zel stated bluntly.

You and Astarion looked at each other. You saw the slightest flash of uncertainty in his eyes and smiled. “If he’ll let me,” you said. 

A small smile appeared on his face in return.

Lae’zel groaned. “K'chakhi. Your loss.” She turned and walked back into the forest, slinging her greatsword over her back.

You bit your lip, feeling guilty about Lae’zel’s feelings, but Karlach soon slid into your vision. “Congrats, you crazy kids,” she laughed and pretended to punch your arm, then followed on Lae’zel’s heels, Scratch bounding close behind her.

Gale walked over, his face stoic. He stood in front of Astarion and held out his hand. 

Astarion scowled. “What is this, do you want some sort of handout?” 

“I want to shake your hand, you buffoon,” Gale sounded frustrated. 

“Gale…” you said sorrowfully. 

“No no, think nothing of it,” he waved you off. “The right man won out in the end.”

Astarion took his hand and shook it. “Better luck next time,” he jeered. 

“Astarion,” you scolded again. “You both know I’m not something to win, right?”

“Of course you’re not,” Gale nodded. “Apologies, I misspoke. I’ll see you both at camp. Lunch is bread and cheese to save room for tonight’s festivities.” He stiffly turned and walked back towards the trees. Wyll gave him a sympathetic look, then caught your eye. He nodded somewhat sadly and followed after Gale. 

“Well that certainly doesn’t feel good,” you said, holding a hand to your chest and breathing deeply.

“Not quite finished yet, love,” Astarion nodded over towards Shadowheart who lingered nearby. 

She approached slowly, holding her hands behind her back. Astarion released your hip and moved away, sensing what Shadowheart aimed to do. You looked at him curiously, but your attention was drawn back to Shadowheart as she threw her arms around your neck. 

“You’re happy?” She asked softly.

“Shadowheart…” you smiled into her hair. “Yes, I’m happy. Thank you.”

She pulled back to look at you in the eyes, double checking your expression. When she saw that you were genuine, she nodded. She cleared her throat and looked over at Astarion. 

She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Hurt her, and you will never know a happy day again.”

Astarion held up his hands defensively. “I won’t-”

“You have never known the pain of Lady Shar’s wrath, and you’d be smart to keep it that way, so help me gods, Astarion.”

“I got it,” he said flatly. 

“Our Lady of Loss would not hesitate to strike you where you stand-”

“I think he gets it,” you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Shadowheart.”

Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at Astarion before she looked back at you. “I’ll see you at camp. Don’t dally.” She looked pointedly at Astarion who shrugged helplessly. 

When she headed back into the forest, you and Astarion were finally alone. 

You let out a heavy sigh.

“That was a lot,” Astarion joined you at your side.

“Wait, did you know those people?” you smirked at him.

“Vaguely,” he smirked back and caught you in a kiss. “At least I don’t have to hold back from doing that at camp now.” He held you close in his arms.

You sighed again and laid your head on his shoulder. “You were right. I didn’t realize so many of them felt something for me.”

“That seems to be because you block out the advances of others.”

You shoved him playfully. “How dare you turn my pitiful backstory against me.”

He smiled and held out his hand. “Come on, let’s go dismantle that ‘disgusting’ nest.” He did his best to impersonate Lae’zel on “disgusting.” 

It made you laugh. “Okay.”

You took his hand and let him lead you through the trees back to the blankets and pillows that you’d spent the night on. 

When you arrived, you picked up your shirt and bra, feeling mild embarrassment that the others had probably seen them and drawn (correct) conclusions. You removed Astarion’s shirt and threw it back at him, hitting him in the face and quickly covered your chest with your forearm. 

Astarion laughed as his shirt fell into his awaiting hands. “Darling, you don’t have to hide from me,” he narrowed his eyes seductively. “I’ve already seen it all.” He tossed the shirt aside and made his way over to you.

“Feels different in the light of day,” you admitted self-consciously. “Worse, I guess.”

“Now, now,” he said, gently pulling your arm away from your chest, “let me see you in the daylight.” You allowed him to move your arm but didn’t look at him. “Lovely,” he breathed, and kissed you hard. 

You inhaled in surprise, but immediately gave in and slipped your tongue into his mouth and your arms over his shoulders. His hand came up and began massaging your left breast, his icy touch sending a shock wave through you and making you moan. 

Instantly, you pulled away and took a step back. “Careful,” you said as Astarion stared at you wide-eyed, his hand frozen in the air where he’d been palming your breast, “I thought you wanted to take things slow?”

He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a dry heave. “Stop being so nice to me,” he avoided your gaze. “It makes me want to… be nice back.”

“Gods forbid,” you laughed, and bent to pick up your bra which had fallen back amongst the pillows. 

All of a sudden, you found yourself face down in the blankets, the wind knocked out of you and Astarion’s body weight pressed firmly on top of you.

“Astarion,” you wheezed, “what are you doing?”

His voice was sultry in your ear, “If you’ll remember, I said I wanted to take my time with you.”

Sexy as that was, you couldn’t breathe. You reached behind yourself and smacked Astarion’s back with your palm. “Living creatures need to breathe, idiot!”

“Oh,” he realized his error and rolled off of you. You had no time to adjust yourself before he flipped you over and hovered above you on his hands and knees. 

You blew some hair out of your face, irritated. “Did you just tackle me like I was some sort of prey?”

“My dear, I would never,” he bowed his head and kissed your neck.

“And yet I find myself on the ground, even though I didn’t put myself here,” you tangled your hands in his hair, your voice wobbly. 

“You’ve always been rather clumsy,” he murmured teasingly. 

You took a deep breath and pushed him away. His lips were still puckered, making you giggle. “Shadowheart told us not to dally,” you reminded him. “And she threatened to kill you, what? Three times?”

“You forget that I’m already dead,” he smiled. “What’s another little death?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

You snorted. “Bad.”

“I thought that was rather clever, actually.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “We should really head back.”

Astarion whined and hung his head. “Let me have you again, woman!”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said!” He lifted his head and looked you in the eye. “And while I appreciate your concern, right now, I very much want to be inside of you again.”

You smiled cautiously. “Are you sure?”

He rolled his eyes and kissed you, lowering his body to roll his hips against yours and making his erection very obviously. You jolted at the unexpected sensation and he pulled back.

“Unless this is too much for you,” he searched your face for hesitancy. “You’re probably still sore and we don’t have to rush anything-”

You gripped the back of his head and tightened your fist into his curls. “Please,” you whispered, “fuck me again.”

A wicked grin bloomed on Astarion’s face and he kissed you passionately, rolling his hips against yours for friction. You moaned into his mouth, but he broke the kiss after only a few moments. “Like I said, love, I want to take my time with you.”

He rose up onto his knees and began untying the laces of your pants. You watched him intently and bit your lip as he removed them fully from your legs. He made quick work of his own and crawled back on top of you. His thumb hooked under your panties and his eyes met yours. You nodded and he pulled them down gently and discarded them close by. He then laid beside you, his eyes heavy with lust.

“Come here, precious thing,” he purred and you inched yourself closer to him. “Turn around,” he instructed. You gave him a confused half smile but did what he asked. He reached forward and pulled your hips back, causing you to feel his still-clothed cock against your ass.

“What are you doing?” you asked nervously. 

Astarion chuckled. “Not that, fear not.” He kissed your shoulder as he slid his left arm under you and settled his hand on your lower stomach. A chill ran through you as he nuzzled his head onto your shoulder. “Fair warning,” you could hear the mischief in his voice as his right hand made itself known in front of your face. He wiggled his fingers in a delicate wave, then brought it down between your thighs. 

A gasp escaped your throat when you felt his fingers swipe through your folds.

Astarion tilted his head and kissed your throat. “So wet already, darling.”

“You’re handsome,” you said by way of explanation.

He hummed against your shoulder and began to rub your clit. A shuddering breath left your mouth and your eyes fluttered shut. Astarion paused for a moment to lift your leg and hike it back over his. “This will feel good,” he said against your skin and dragged his fingers through your folds again before inserting a digit into your cunt. 

You threw your head back in surprised pleasure, which made Astarion turn and nip at your ear. He began pumping and curling his finger slowly inside of you. Your breath caught when his thumb resumed its spot on your clit and whined when his finger inside of you hit a particularly sensitive spot. He adjusted his angle to hit it repeatedly. 

“Astarion,” you moaned, your head clouded with nothing but ecstasy. 

“Yes, my sweet, you’re gripping me so tight,” his voice was sensual in your ear. “Do you think you can take a little more?”

You nodded, your eyes shut tight. 

“Words, darling.”

“Another…” you said breathily.

“Another what?”

Your voice was sing-songy. “Astarion, if you don’t put another finger in me right now, I’m leaving you.”

He laughed loudly before moving his mouth close to your ear again. “You like me too much.” Then he leaned up a little to catch your eye, his finger still pumping between your thighs. “Right?”

You smiled sympathetically, seeing your words had spooked him a little. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” you clarified. “But I might kill you.”

“Got it,” Astarion dragged his index finger through your folds, then carefully added it to your cunt alongside his middle finger. 

You exhaled, moving your hand down from his cheek to his hand resting on your stomach. You laced your fingers together and squeezed when he hit a particularly good spot, getting you to moan out an, “Oh, gods.”

“Like that?” He asked cockily, reaching and curling to hit the spot again. 

“Yes, my love,” you sighed, grinning upwards with your eyes closed. 

Behind you, you felt Astarion’s cock twitch.

Your eyes opened and you looked back at him. 

He smiled back at you sheepishly. “It does that sometimes, darling. When something is particularly arousing.”

Your breaths were coming out short and keeping in time with the pumping of his fingers. “Was it… ‘my love?’”

Astarion let out a low moan and hid his face in your shoulder before reemerging and nodding. “Coming from you while you’re in the throes of passion with me is really… something.”

You laughed between whimpers. “My… loooooove,” you sang, squeezing his hand again. “Your fingers feel heavenly, my looooove.”

“Fuck this,” Astarion said, pulling his fingers out of you unceremoniously and curling you forward with his body so he could shimmy out of his underwear. 

“What are you doing,” you winced and whined childishly, “I was so close!”

“Unfortunately, darling, if I’m not inside you within a matter of seconds, I’m going to lose it completely.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” you said, half dazed and still coming down from your almost climax. 

You felt his hand bump your ass as he pumped his cock and you instantly went stiff. “You’re not going to…?”

Astarion let out a breathy laugh. “Oh, my sweet, you’re not nearly ready for something like that yet.”

A relieved sigh escaped you. 

“We could always work our way up-”

“No, that’s okay,” you said quickly. 

“There’s nothing wrong with-”

“No, of course not-”

“But we can-”

“Let’s not talk about this now,” you patted Astarion’s cheek.

“Understood,” he nodded and resumed pumping his cock. “Hook your leg back over mine, darling.” When you followed his instruction, he kissed your shoulder once more. You felt the head of his cock glide through your folds until it prodded at your entrance and you let out a shaky exhale. “Don’t be scared,” he muttered, squeezing your hand. “Are you ready?”

You inhaled. “Yes.”

Just as he had last night, Astarion was slow to enter you. This time you heard him whimpering with his mouth so close to your ear. 

“Fuck,” he murmured, dragging his fangs from your shoulder to your neck, “still so tight.”

“Obviously,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut, but not feeling nearly as uncomfortable as you had the first time he’d entered you. You let out a satisfied exhale when his hips bumped your ass. 

“Let me know what I can move,” Astarion said against your skin, his words barely recognizable. 

“You can move,” you said almost immediately, reaching a hand up behind you and twisting it into Astarion’s hair. You moved it over a little to play with the tip of his ear.

He let out a loud groan and snapped his hips forward, probably with more force than he meant to. “Apologies,” he whispered, “that felt heavenly.”

“Keep going, my love,” you encouraged and he caught your eye with a seductive smile. 

He continued to pump his cock into your dripping hole and brought his right hand down to your clit. He licked a stripe from your neck up to your ear. “You know, I really did intend to take my time with you just now,” he spoke lowly from the back of his throat. As if to illustrate his point, he slowed his hips to take long, languid strokes out, and then moved back into you at an equally slow pace. His thumb on your clit slowed as he disconnected his left hand from yours and brought it up to fondle your breast. He kissed up your shoulder to your neck sloppily and sucked on the fading bite marks from last night. 

You moaned loudly, hooking your foot around his calf and tightening your fist in his hair. “We’d really be dallying, then,” you commented.

He made a frustrated noise. “Don’t even allude to the cleric right now,” he pulled away from your neck. “Unless it’s to tell me I’m a much better lover than her.” He snapped his hips into you, hard. 

“I don’t have much of a reference, genius,” you responded breathlessly. 

“Right,” he said, and picked up speed at your clit. His mouth returned to sucking on your throat. 

“Oohhh,” you sighed. You let out a gasp when Astarion’s left hand pinched your nipple.

“You feel wonderful, my darling,” spit connected him to your neck.

“So do you,” you brought your hand up to cover Astarion’s that was kneading your breast. “You can bite me, if you want.”

He groaned loudly and bumped his nose against your jaw. “Well,” he said between thrusts, “if you insist.” 

He kissed your throat before biting down, his hips instantly picking up speed. 

The ice that shot into your veins was a shock as always, but melted into a fuzzy pleasure that had your eyes drooping in ecstasy. 

Astarion took long pulls of your blood as he continued thrusting, circling your clit, and needing your breast. How he was keeping track of everything at once was beyond you in this pleasant, foggy state. 

“Darling,” he pulled away suddenly, swallowing loudly and seemingly out of breath. “May I taste you as you come?”

Your tongue lolled to the side, but his voice snapped you out of it. You nodded up at him. “Yes, please.”

“What do you need?” He licked the wounds on your neck. 

“As much as I’m enjoying you taking your time,” you said, “harder and faster.”

“Easy,” a cocky grin graced his face as a drop of your blood dripped down his chin. 

His hips picked up a brutal pace that nearly had you reaching your peak, and he pressed further onto your clit, his tight circles picking up speed as well. 

“Oh, Astarion,” you moaned loudly, reaching back again to grip his hair.

“Come for me, dearest,” he spoke softly against your throat, but loud enough that you could hear, “I want to hear you sing again. I want to taste how sweet your blood is when I make you cum on my cock.” He continued leaving sloppy kisses against your neck.

“I’m close,” you confirmed, your eyes shut tight and your body tensing. 

“Go ahead, love, I’ve got you,” his hard thrusts were becoming uneven, but ever the professional, his voice remained mostly even. “You’re so tight and warm, thank you for letting me taste you.” He kissed your mouth. “Darling.” Another kiss. “Beloved.” One more. “Mine.”

You cried out as you fell over the edge, your cunt squeezing his cock repeatedly, only to cry out again as you felt Astarion’s fangs enter your neck once more. 

“Astarion!” You shouted, squeezing his hand and pulling his hair and wrapping your shaking leg around his. Almost simultaneously, you felt Astarion spill inside you as he moaned your name loudly into your neck, his hips pulsing clumsily against you. 

The sensation of him drawing your blood was still pleasantly fuzzy, but you could feel yourself becoming light headed. You tapped his arm twice, your signal for him to stop, and he pulled away, leaning his forehead against your temple and breathing heavily. 

“Still cumming,” he groaned and clenched his teeth, his hips faltering in their rhythm. 

After another moment, his body finally relaxed and he pulled you closer into his chest, catching his breath. “That was… amazing,” he sighed happily, leaning forward to lick the remaining blood from your neck. “If I knew blood could taste that good-” His voice trailed off. “Well, I’m sure I’d do something about it if I could.” He seemed pleased with his own answer and hummed contentedly behind you.

“I’m glad it was to your liking,” you said, looking back at him with a smile. He bent forward and kissed you happily. “I’m like a fine vintage,” you teased.

Astarion pursed his lips. “You’re far from vintage, darling, you’ll have to work on your wine related japes.” 

You laughed and a comfortable silence fell between you. Astarion rested both of his hands on your stomach. Which growled suddenly.

“What’s that like?” He teased, licking a wayward drop of blood from the side of his mouth. 

Your body tensed. “Oh gods, bread and cheese!”

Astarion blinked at you. “Are those some sort of new deities I’m not aware of, or-?”

“No, that’s what Gale said we’re having for lunch.”

“And that’s important because-?”

“Because we DALLIED and there’s a PARTY tonight and now Shadowheart is going to KILL us.”

“I see.” Astarion remained still, fixed in place. Then suddenly he was pulling out of you at a breakneck speed and reaching for his clothes. 

You winced a little at the sensation but scrambled for your own clothes, wiping yourself down with the cloth Astarion provided again and got dressed in what was probably record time. 

Incredibly, you both looked presentable. 

“We do make a gorgeous pair,” Astarion cocked his hip and smirked at you, going in for a kiss.

You swatted him away. “Enough flirting, loverboy, we can talk about us later!” You started reaching for blankets and pillows. 

“Us,” Astarion stood on the sidelines, testing out the word on his tongue. “I do so like the sound of that.”

“Help me, would you?” You threw a pile of blankets at him, hitting him in the face and blowing his hair back. 

He groaned. “It should be a crime to rush after you’ve just made love to the most amazing woman.” He came up behind you and smacked your butt teasingly. 

You stood up straight and tried to look angry. “We are going to die if we don’t head back right now.” Astarion wasn’t buying your anger, so you turned bashful. “You made loooove to me?” You clasped your hands together by your face. “You think I’m amaaaazing?” You twirled some of your hair for good measure.

Astarion sighed. “Be serious, woman, we’re going to die!” His voice was exasperated but he smirked at you. He bent to pick up more blankets and pillows and you did the same until you both had piles you could barely see over and nothing was left behind.

“Ugh, I’m going to have to do so much laundry,” you muttered. “Seriously, how did you manage bringing all this out here?”

“Well first, everything was folded neatly.”

“We don’t have time.”

“And second, multiple trips, darling.”

“We can’t afford to leave camp EVER again.”

Try as you might to rush back to camp, you still had to maneuver through a forest and be careful where you stepped. The pair of you moved as quickly as you could, which wasn’t as fast as was probably necessary to avoid Shadowheart’s ire. 

“Soooo…” You broke the silence after a few moments. 

“Gods,” Astarion rolled his eyes, “what?”

“‘My love,’ huh?” You waggled your eyebrows at him.

“What about it?”

“You liiiiiiked it,” you teased. 

“I-” You could see that he thought about arguing but decided not to. “I’m not used to the pet names turned on me. It’s… nice.”

“You’re cute,” you said, looking over at him affectionately and nearly tripping over a tree root as a result.

Astarion snickered, then made his face serious. “I’m the furthest thing from cute. I’m a horrifying monster.” He lowered his voice as if that would back him up.

“Yeah, but you like being mushy.” 

“I do not.”

“You do!” You moved closer to him and bumped his hip with your own. “You were so sweet to me yesterday. And just now.” 

“It’s different with you,” he said quietly.

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows.

“It’s… um… This is stupid, I hate it.” He tried to walk ahead of you but you caught up easily.

“No, no! Please.” You gave him a reassuring look. “I, of all people, will not judge you.”

He sighed. “It’s just… nice to feel like something is mine.” He was quick to correct, “Not that I own you but… I don’t know. You’re not a victim. Not a target. Not just… one night it’s better to forget. You’re something entirely new.”

You smiled over at him. “I like you too, weirdo.”

Astarion humphed. “Whatever.” He moved closer and bumped your hip with his own. The two of you shared a fond look, then turned back to the path ahead.

If Shadowheart was going to kill you, at least you’d die together. 

You both quickened your pace to try and avoid that fate, but it was a lovely thought.

Soon, you began to make out the bright colors of your tents through the trees and the sound of your companions chatting by the fire. 

You turned to Astarion. “See you on the other side.”

He nodded, determined. “It’s been a pleasure servicing you, darling.”

“I hope she kills you first.”

You shared a laugh before you took a calming breath. 

And stepped into camp. 

[grimmsbride]

SHE ft. SATORU & SUGURU / Reader but check your window.. he’s at your window 𓈒ིུ𖥨᩠ׄ݁˖

on one of your few off days you decided to fill the night with a true blood marathon and shitty snacks. unfortunately for you, a bump in the night suddenly stills all your plans

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ TAGS ╲ pre-established relationship | “dub-con” | roleplay | ghostface kink | double penetration | porn with little plot | knife play | degradation kink | slight predator and prey | overuse of pet names | rough sex | manhandling | oral sex | threesome | reader is depicted as black but of course this fic is for everyone

𓂂 ͜ᩘ ̵̼͓̥͒̾͘𑣿 ⁣⁣⠀ NOTES ╲ i posted this on wattpad & ao3 & completely forgot to post this here. if you know my old account “selfishdoll” i made a similar fic before that a lot of people loved. this is a rewrite / rework. i was supposed to make a continuation but 🤷🏾‍♀️. also this is a way to ease from mouthwashing back into jjk. don’t worry i’m not done with mw i just would like to get back writing jjk again. as always please excuse any typos & or grammar mistakes <3

"C'mon baby.." You crooned softly, blinking and squinting in an attempt to spot your beloved dog. It was dark outside, the sky painted in a pretty black with specks of white lazily dotted across the canvas. And while your backyard light helped your sight, it did little when your black dog seemed to mix in with the background. Regardless after a still moment the pretty little thing came bundling from the darkness, tail wagging and rushing into your home. You smiled, sliding the glass door closed and flicking the lock— listening for that signature click to assure it was locked.

You turned in time to see the puppy waltz over to his bed, scratching at the perfectly folded blanket for a moment before being satisfied with the bundle he created. You had no idea why you continued to fold the blanket at all. Maybe you enjoyed watching the furry beast mess with it, or maybe you were just a control freak that needed order in every way; even when it came to old, dingy rags that belonged to a canine.

Anyway, tonight wasn't the night to delve into that. You had planned to lay across the couch, watching True Blood while devouring just about every snack in your house.

Whoever created the system known as "Paid Time Off" deserved a huge smooch.

You walked over to your kitchen, opening the fridge and snatching a cold soda and water bottle. Setting them off to the side, you then moved onto a small box of assorted chocolates all ranging from caramel and other delicious nougats. Finished with your cold items you shut the fridge, moving over to your pantry and snatching the door open. Your eyes moved about the cans, noodles, and other dried goods before settling on the little corner dedicated to your chips and cookies.

You came closer, outstretching your arm towards the corner and grabbing the first bag. Dragging it forward, you quickly realize your laziness would be the death of you; given the moment your hand moved the bag brushed against a box of elbow macaroni, knocking it to the ground. The force caused the contents to spill right there infront of you, a loud groan escaping you as you looked at the mess. What's more, your dog rushed from his bed, bounding over in hopes of lapping up the hard food, clearly reacting on greed rather than knowing what it even was.

"Nuh uh— go, back to your bed!" You huffed in an authoritative tone, watching the greedy thing rush back to his bed with a little gruff. You rolled your eyes, placing your chips off to the side and grabbing your broom from the closet beside you. Slowly you began to sweep up your mess, assuring to get every single noodle as not to attract bugs or greedy dogs that act like they haven't been fed in years.

Once swept all into a pile, you kneeled down to hold your dustpan flat— balancing and using your other hand to sweep the trash into it. A minute passed and you were finished, rising to your full height and walking over to the trash bin; emptying the dustpan. With that little hiccup solved you moved on; putting the cleaning supplies away, washing your hands, and grabbing your snacks on the way to the couch.

You walked around the plush furniture, flopping on the makeshift palette of blankets you created. Sinking into the comfort, you reached over for the remote and started the episode; a blissful smile crossing your features. You opened your chips, pressing the bag up against your arm whilst using your other hand to grab one, chomping without a care.

Your eyes focused on the tv screen for a while before they shifted over to a sudden light on your coffee table. Your phone. You reached over, grabbing the device and bringing it closer. There, after using facial ID, you noticed a missed call. The contact?

Unknown.

Your eyebrows drew close, swiping up and clicking your call logs. Pressing the one labeled unknown you watched it ring for a moment, pressing speaker as you were too lazy to bring it to your ear. It rung for what seemed like minutes, your hand slowly going slack from how long you were waiting. And just when you thought of putting your phone down the familiar sound of the call being accepted echoed throughout your living room.

"Hello?" You called softly, bringing the receiver closer to your mouth. When you heard nothing, for the first few seconds you pulled back; wondering if they ended it. But no, the seconds counted by, both phones clearly still on call. So you gave a much louder greeting, hoping for a response.

And, you were given one. You just.. didn't quite enjoy it.

Heavy breathing came from the other line, fanning against the receiver in a rather unnerving rhythm. A prank caller? The possibility ran through your mind as you listened, bringing the phone close to your ear. You sat there, unmoving— attempting to listen harder than what physically possible.

In doing so, you didn't notice your beloved dog hop up from his rest until his barks caused you to nearly jump out of your skin. You spun around, spotting his attention to the glass door separating the outside from your home. Your stomach quickly became a pit of fear, rising from your couch and waltzing over to the kitchen.

Flicking the overhead light on, you soon reached the patio light. As nervous as ever you flicked the light on, anticipating the worst. But, as your eyes scanned what you could see, nothing popped out. Nothing alarming, nothing worth barking over surely.

You sighed, shoulders falling from its previous stiff position, glancing over at your phone. To your surprise the call had ended in the midst of you inspecting the backyard. Curiosity grew slowly, but you decided against acting on it.

Hearing someone breathe in the phone for another ten mins just wasn't as exciting as it seemed.

You turned the light off, turning to your pet that was currently standing behind you, watching the backyard just as intently. You shook your head, leaning down and collecting him into your arms.

"Time to go to bed honey."

You murmured. You walked towards a door connected to your dining room, opening it and placing the dog onto his feet. Like clockwork he was walking over to his crate tucked to the side, curling up in another bed placed within it. You kneeled down, locking the crate's door before standing.

"Night baby." You spoke as if he could understand, turning on your heel and closing the door behind you. Just in time for your phone to go off.

The ringer was loud, an annoying mistake that caused you to quickly press your finger against the sound button, lowering its volume. You brought your phone to your face, contorting your expression the moment you read the contact.

Unknown.

Okay, this is getting annoying.. You thought to yourself, accepting the call as you moved back to your couch. With your annoyance slightly clear you greeted the caller, bottom making contact with the cushions and sinking in.

For moment all was silent, causing your annoyance to deepen. Again, it seemed you have fallen for another prank or scam— regardless of what it was, it was ruining your True Blood all nighter. You opened your mouth to speak again, only to be rudely interrupted by another's voice.

"Hello."

The voice was gravely, scratchy, and deep.. slightly unnerving as well. You waited for the person to speak again, but was met with nothing. Just.. more heavy breathing.

"Uhm.." You dragged, attempting to remain polite despite your frustration. "—You've called twice already.. is this like a wrong number situation or?.."

For a moment the voice didn't speak, as if fully processing what you said. Then, they muttered in that same voice;

"Oh, really? I'm sorry, I must have called the wrong number."

Your shoulders relaxed, leaning back against your couch. "Hey, it's okay. It happens to me sometimes too." You decided to laugh it off, a little surprised when you heard the stranger do the same. "Well, goodbye—"

"Wait.. we don't have to cut the call so soon."

Your eyebrows twitched, the amusement from before slowly trickling away. "Uhm.. what?"

"C'mon, you don't seem to be busy. How about we chat for a while?"

You looked around, as if searching for an imaginary camera to capture your reaction; which was a look of disbelief that slowly formed into a scowl.

"Er— I am. I'm trying to watch True Blood."

"True Blood? That one southern vampire show?" The stranger questioned, listening out for your little hum of acknowledgement. He chuckled softly, a breathy thing that fanned into your phone. "So, you like scary media?"

Your eyes rolled, "True Blood isn't scary by any means but— yes, I guess I do like most scary things."

"Yeah? What's your favorite?"

"And why on Earth would I tell you?"

You heard rustling on the other side of the line, causing your interest to pique. You wanted to ask what he was doing, but something told you not to. Regardless, you weren't sure he would give much of an answer anyway. You two didn't even know each other's names after all.

"For fun. Don't you like to have fun?"

"With complete strangers? No." You huffed, biting the inside of your cheek the moment the other laughed. As he talked more, you couldn't help but think how attractive his voice was. Perfectly deep, yet playful enough— as if you could practically hear his smile. Your fingers wrapped around the t-shirt you wore, cringing internally.

A voice? Really? Was it that easy to get you going?

"I.. uh, I guess my favorite would have to be Hellraiser."

"Oh wow..I was expecting something like Halloween or IT. You're a bigger horror nerd than I took you for."

For some reason that caused a sense of pride to enter your body, lips curling into a little smile. "Yeah, I guess I am."

"If that's the case, you wouldn't mind a little pop quiz would you? Since you're.. such a huge fan."

Your eyes trailed over to the television, realizing your little sexy vampire marathon just didn't seem as appealing anymore. Your lips pressed together, lying across the couch and humming softly.

"What do I get when I get all of them right?"

"We'll see.." The other hummed automatically, more shuffling being heard from his end. "But of course, wrong answers will be punished."

"But of course." You chuckled, eyes rolling a bit.

"First question, who was the main antagonist in Hellraiser?"

You scoffed, an are you serious? expression crossing your face. "Pinhead. Duh. If it's gonna be this easy, I should get back to my show."

The stranger laughed softly, "Just warming up. Have some patience." The call went silent for a moment, you assuming he was thinking of another question. This gave you the opportunity to scroll through the many horror flicks you've watched, picking out facts and guessing questions he may ask. A moment passed before he interrupted your concentration;

"What 2016 South Korean zombie film takes place on a train?"

Another, easy one. Truly if it continued like this you might just have to hang up. "Train to Busan."

"Right again! That's two in a row."

"I told you I was good."

"Mm.." The stranger hummed, "How about this.. what movie follows a deaf girl in a world infected by creatures that only react to sound?"

"A quiet place! C'mon stranger y—"

"I'm sorry but that's— incorrect!"

You blinked quickly, eyebrows coming close. "You're lying! It is a quiet p—"

"While you are right, the movie I had in mind was The Silence."

"How the hell was I supposed to know that? Who the hell watched that movie anyway?!" You spoke, sucking your teeth. Your annoyance simmered, nearly boiling over as you heard the other cackle over the line.

"What a sore loser. Since it's only one, you won't get a punishment this time."

You huffed, sinking deeper into the cushions and grumbling something intelligible. "Continue."

He chuckled, enjoying your annoyance far too much. "What are the three rules when taking care of a Mogwai in the film, gremlins?"

You hopped up, grinning ear to ear; confident you had this one in the bag. Your hand stretched out, a finger curling to rest into your palm; "Don't feed it after midnight," another lowered, "no bright lights, and—" the third finger staggered, your eyes widening the moment you realized a ridiculously timed brain fart was interrupting.

"Don't uh.." You dragged, hoping the filler word would somehow cause your brain to work. Of course it didn't, causing you to sit there, mouth gaping like an idiot. A cold sweat brushed over you the moment the other started talking again.. realizing what his words were—

A countdown.

"5...4...3.." The stranger stretched the three; voice masked with amusement, enjoying your struggle. You stumbled, searching urgently for the words that just weren't there.

"Don't—"

"Times up!" The stranger interrupted, laughter hinging onto his words. "Two in a row! Losing your spark so quickly?" He taunted you.

You sighed heavily, leaning back over the couch with your eyes pinched closed in annoyance. You really shouldn't be this frustrated, it was just an odd game between strangers— nothing more. It's not like you were getting money for it. Whatever. You tried to convince yourself, eyes blinking open slowly, widening the moment your vision focused.

There in your backyard, you could have sworn, maybe you were just being paranoid— but.. you swore you saw a figure simply standing there; separated by the glass. But as quickly as you saw it, it was gone, as if nothing more than your mind playing tricks.

You swallowed heavily, turning to lay on your stomach and squint. Hard. Somehow trying to make your eyesight better than what it truly was. But as you continued such strain, you didn't see a thing. Nothing. No explanation, at all.

"You still there, little miss horror fanatic?"

His words caused you to jump, nearly forgetting the cold device pressed to your ear. You pulled the phone back, lips pursing together silently, trying to relax your frantic heart. Talking to a stranger and a horror quiz just wasn't the greatest mix, was it? No wonder you were acting so paranoid.

Slowly you turned to face your television, sinking into the cushions.

"I'm here."

"Good, good— we have to figure out your punishment after all."

You rolled your eyes, the fear that was once placated you, disappearing. "And what exactly is my punishment? You hanging up?" You joked, grinning a bit the moment you heard his soft chuckle.

"No, nothing like that. Maybe taking your power will suffice?"

"Wha—"

All at once, every fan, light, and even your television seemed to shut off. You jumped up from the couch, eyes struggling against the darkness of your house as you frantically searched for the remote. You finally found it, slamming your fingers into the power button— but to no avail; it refused to turn on. This caused your anxiety to spike, shallow breaths escaping you.

"Getting scared?"

Without thinking you pulled your phone back from your ear, slamming the end call button. What.. just happened? How did— how did he turn off your power? You desperately searched for an answer, trying to rationalize this madness playing before you.

There was no way he turned off your power purposely.. right? There was just..

You decided to stop thinking, bringing your phone up and pressing the flashlight button. Your hand moved, lighting up your living room— a small act of comfort for your rapidly beating heart. You walked towards the wall, flicking at the switch only to sigh the moment it refused to turn on.

You debated your options. If he had truly been able to shut off your power, how did he do it? Manually? If so, going outside just seemed like the worst choice. Maybe he did it remotely; maybe some kind of phone emp that.. killed everything but your phone?

"That makes.. total sense." You spoke, ridiculing yourself just a little. You leaned against your wall for a moment, the cool structure consoling you. Only, for a moment.

You jumped as your phone rang again, completely shutting off your flashlight, rendering you back to darkness. With a shaky hand you brought the phone close, sucking in a breath as you spotted the name.

You accepted the call, "What did you do?! Why.. why can't I turn on anything?"

Through sputters the other replied, "I did say you would receive a punishment, why are you so surprised?"

"I don't want to play this game anymore, just—" You slowly breathed, trying to calm down. "..please, fix my power."

Your request received silence for a still moment, the only sound being your heart begging to escape your chest. You stood, against that same wall that once comforted you— now doing the exact opposite.

Finally, he spoke.

"If you get this answer correctly, I just might."

You pulled the phone from your ear to release a shaky breath, eyes squinting closed. You had no faith in yourself for answer nor the stranger to not give you a trick question. But, it seemed the only way to get what you wanted was to play by his rules.

"Fine." You muttered, bringing the phone back to your ear.

"Good. So I shouldn't expect whining if you get it wrong and I punish you — right?" The smile was clear in his speech, a potent dare that he was just begging you to accept. And against your better judgment, you did; muttering out a simple yes squeezing the fabric of your clothes between your fingers.

"Excellent! And to make this even more fun, how about a speed round? Ready? Let's go; what is the name of the fictional town in which the events of Halloween take place?"

"Haddonfield."

"Correct!— Which horror movie features a family being terrorized by doppelgängers?—"

"Us!"

"Right again! Two more sweetheart, and you'll get your beloved power back!"

You breathed heavily, tightening the hold on your phone. Calm down.. you can't think when you're so frantic.

"In 'The Grudge' what is the name of the spirit that curses the house?"

"Ka—kayako Saeki—!"

The other laughed heartily, "You are on a roll! Last one, it's for alllllll the marbles.. where am I?"

In that moment it felt like someone was squeezing your throat, rendering you breathless; clawing at an imaginary hand to fight for breath. Your eyes danced around your dark house, chest tight as little tears pricked at your eyes.

"What?.." Your tone was breathy, fear clearly running through your veins.

"You heard me." The way he spoke, all amusement, all laughter ceasing to exist. This.. wasn't a game anymore, was it?

"Where.. am.. I?"

Tears were streaming at this point, head whipping back and forth between your backyard door and the front. You struggled to pick, knowing the wrong answer meant your demise. You couldn't.. you had to guess right, y—you just.. had to!

"The front door! You're on my porch!"

"Go check."

You swallowed heavily, glancing at the door. Slowly, toy pulled yourself off the wall, shaky footsteps leading you forward. You couldn't hear a thing from the other line, making you wonder if he muted himself. Either way, you didn't care; the thought of hearing him at this moment was just too much to bear. You continued your snail like pace, shaky, gasping as you approached the door. A barrier between you and what you assumed was standing behind it, waiting for you.

You panted softly, watching your own hand reach for the knob as if an out of body experience. Expertly, routinely; your fingers flicked the lock, listening to the usual mechanism. Then, your palm enveloped the golden knob, twisting.. carefully.

Twist.. twist.. pull. Slowly, you opened the door, listening to the hinges for a soft moment before deciding to rip the bandage off— swinging it open the rest of the way, nearly hitting the wall behind if it wasn't for your hand.

And just like that.. all color drained from your face, as you glanced at your porch, your doorstep.

Your completely, empty, doorstep.

Laughter suddenly echoed from your phone, your blood running cold. You sputtered,

"Please! Please just give me another ch—"

Your speech was interrupted as heavy footsteps bounded from your stairs. You whipped around in time to spot a large figure cloaked in black, face covered rushing towards you. You screeched, scrambling to make it out of the door, only for his arms to suddenly wrap around your waist, stilling your movement.

"You lost.." The tone in your ear was sing-songy, arms tightening the more you struggled. You felt the plastic of his mask dig into your neck as he leaned into, fingers digging into your flesh almost perversely. "Poor, poor [Name]."

Before you could whine out, you were met with the sound of your power being restored. You gaped like a fish, confused completely. If he was here now, how the hell did it turn back on?

An answer quickly presented itself. One, you didn't quite like.

Footsteps carried from your porch, and through glossy eyes you spotted another figure approaching your home. The one holding you backed up a bit, carrying you with him— and allowing his partner-in-crime to enter your home. Once he did so, he shut the door behind him, locking it and snickering softly.

"I was gonna lose anyway.. wasn't I?"

"So smart.." The stranger, the mask you immediately recognized as Ghostface mumbled, approaching you. You whimpered the moment his fingers went for your face, caressing it slowly as his other hand reached for his mask, slowly lifting it halfway to reveal his simmering smirk.

Ghostface leaned close, lips pressing against the side of your eye, removing the tears. "I think we scared her too much.. Look at those tears."

The Ghostface behind you chuckled, pressing himself closer to effectively squish you between the two of them.

"I don't think so. She enjoyed this more than she let on, obviously." A hand released your waist to grasp your cheek, turning your face just a tad. "You got turned on by this.. didn't you? The thought of losing, the thought of us coming in here— claiming our reward and dealing out your punishment?"

You whined, unable to speak from their touches and the pressure. They took your lack of words as an answer, the Ghostface infront of you chuckling as his lips treaded down your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin just to feel you shudder. While the other slowly backed the three of you to your couch.

Soon enough your bottom hit the plush cushions, unable to fully register what was happening as your lips were suddenly taken in a full kiss. You couldn't keep up at this point, feeling hands reach for your clothes; top gone, bottoms next. The cool air brushed against your skin, quickly warmed by their touch. You felt a hand ghost down the curve of your plush stomach, pushing past the elastic of your panties— gloved fingers brushing against your warm cunt.

"Soaking my fucking glove.." One spoke, clearly not the one kissing you as his lips continued to bite marks along your skin, sinking in deeply when you attempted to close your legs. "Don't be so shy.. let me in, sweetheart."

His words were soft, nearly comforting as you felt fingers spread you, another coming to circle your swollen bud. You finally pulled away from the kiss, a whisper of a moan escaping your swollen lips. You squirmed, not fighting, but unable to control yourself due to the pleasure.

The Ghostface that had just kissed you chuckled, leaning close to press his lips against the side of your face. "Feels that good.. huh?" His hand dragged your body, reaching your thighs, a soft huff escaping the moment he realized you still had your panties on.

"You're so lazy." His words were directed to his partner, tone ranging between annoyed and amused.

The other chuckled, continuing his the slow circles upon your clit, "You want them off so bad, do it yourself." And with that he devoured your mouth in a sweet kiss, tongue intruding your lips to spread along your wet caravan, reclaiming the space.

Ghostface 1 tutted softly, hand moving away from your body to instead sift through his pocket. Your eyes slowly opened, watching as he revealed a pocket knife, flipping it open in on swift motion. You whined softly as you felt the sharp tip drag across your skin, the cold silver causing you to shiver far too harshly..

"Relax.. I would hate to knick you." He spoke, though doing one more playful drag before reaching your hip, carefully catching your panty onto the sharp edge before flicking it up— ruining them. You would have complained if it wasn't for the mouth occupying you at the moment.

Ghostface 1 tossed away the knife onto your coffee table, grabbing the ruined garments and tearing it off the rest of the way. With that, his companion used his free hand to grace the inside of your thigh, pushing it open whilst the other did the same; exposing your wet cunt.

With more access, another hand reached low, gathering your dripping essence, smoothing it between his gloved fingers. And with a single push two fingers were inserting you, reaching deep and spreading against your gummy walls.

Again you pulled away from a kiss, moaning— pitch piquing as those damned digits curled. Ghostface 2 chuckled, continuing the ministrations on your pretty bud while his lips carried down your form.

"So fucking wet.. you like this? All this attention?"

Little tears of pleasure threatened to tread down your face as your legs shook, reaching over to squeeze one of their arms— which of course, was more than welcomed. You felt a free hand knead your breast, thumb flicking and pressing into your nipple gently.

"Hey, he asked a question— or are you too fucked out already?" The first Ghostface chuckled, quickening the pace of his fingers, the squelches of your pretty pussy echoing through the room. He leaned close, nipping at your skin, scissoring you and spreading you open.

"Ye—yes!" You were finally able to muster, a band forming and wounding in your stomach as they continued. Your response was enough for them, laughter carrying between them, one even softly mocking your declaration.

"Such a fucking slut, all excited over two Ghostfaces using you up."

"Ruining you for just about anyone else.."

Your head rolled back against the couch, as blissfull sounds escaped, eyes pinched close from the pleasure. Your thighs tightened with each pass of one's finger upon your clit, and the other's thrust of their fingers. They were right, you were ruined— completely. And they had just begun to play with you.

You whimpered and whined, fingers digging into their covered arms, crying out as a hot tongue spread along your areola, dragging the swollen bud into his mouth. You were close, so, so close. That end heading towards you rapidly, stomach tightening into knots as pure gibberish fell from your pretty lips.

And all too quickly you were coming undone, moaning so loudly you were sure the neighbors could hear. For a moment your vision was blurred, the only feeling being their fingers helping your ride out your high.

"What a mess, your poor couch."

"Here, be good and clean me up." Soaked, gloved fingers were dragging across your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open gently. With little issue your lips parted, allowing his digits to press against your tongue. You dragged your appendage across him, tasting your own arousal and bitter leather. You continued your show, gagging slightly the moment he pushed his fingers just a bit farther.

"Look at that.." Ghostface 2 mumbled, far too excited as his piercing gaze resting on you. Suddenly he was standing up, walking around your couch to stand behind you. Ghostface 1 seemed to catch onto his plan, given he was removing his fingers before grasping you a bit roughly, switching you onto your knees.

Your hands held the hard frame of your couch, breathing softly as a gentle hand grasped your chin. Your eyes carried up to the long figure infront of you, warming as his thumb wiped away the combined mess on your lips.

"Pretty girl.." He cooed, leaning down to your height to plant his lips to your own. Your eyes fluttered shut, moaning into the kiss as you felt the other behind you spread your legs wide, hand brushing across your back to make the perfect arch.

In unison you heard fabric moving before two pairs of belts were being fiddled with. This caused your heart to skip a beat, anticipation and want shuddering throughout you.

Soon enough you were being released from the kiss, eyes landing upon the one before you, watching as he tugged down his bottoms. Short tufts of fluffy white hairs lined his belly and his groin, carefully groomed. He was long, length a pretty pale, veins running along his shaft with a hot red tip.

"No way.. don't tell me you got this excited just from seeing his dick." Ghostface 1 chuckled behind you, dragging his knuckles across your snatch for a moment before gently slapping your messy cunt, the soft plap echoing throughout the room.

You gasped out, lunging forward just a bit from the sudden action. He didn't let you move much though, fingers dipping into your sides and pulling you against him, feeling his own heavy length gliding across you.

Your attention was once against moved as a hand grabbed your chin, thumb pressing against your lips and parting them. You moaned the moment his tip pressed against you, feeling his pre-cum smear across the brim. And slowly, he fed you each inch of his cock, his own groan causing you to shudder.

And what's more, just when you thought you could relax, you felt the other's tip glide across your slit before slowly pushing in, spreading you so perfectly.

As if made for them.

Ghostface 2 started first, pulling his hips back slowly before pushing them forward, filling your mouth easily. Your cheeks hallowed, jaw going slack as his slow pace started. His breath was heavy against the mask, hand rising to your hair and curling his fingers through it while his other hand gently caressed your face.

Ghostface 1 was next, hands digging to your hips as his own hips pulled back until only his tip remained inside of you. With little care he thrusted all the way back in, stifling a laugh as a surprised moan escaped you.

"Sorry, should I have warned you?" He questioned, refusing to give you even a moment to reply before his thrusts picked up, driving his cock into you with no mercy. With each push your breasts were pressing against the couch, the soft fabric stimulating you even more.

A struggled gasp escaped you as a tug came at your hair, fingers grabbing your cheeks rather roughly as the Ghostface infront of you picked up his own pace— reacting out of pure jealousy.

"Don't give him so much attention, sweetheart. Just focus on me." Ghostface 2 chuckled, speech stuttering as he continued. Your mouth felt far too good, sucking him so gently as your tongue dragged along his length. The man's head tilted back, muttering swears trying to keep control as he fucked your pretty face.

Meanwhile Ghostface 1 chuckled, leaning over your form to press his lips right against your ear. "Yet who's the one making you feel so good?" He spoke, slamming his hips, your ass rippling with each hit. You melted, so palpable as a string moans escaped you, smothered by the warm length occupying your mouth. You could barely focus, barely breath— relying only on feeling.

Your mouth being stuffed. Your cunt as well. The way you shook with their rhythmic thrusts, nearly toppling over if it wasn't for one's strong hold. How your arousal and much more trickled down your thighs, definitely dirtying your couch even further.

All of it.. so overwhelming yet, so, so good. You didn't need to think, breathe, nothing. Just kneeling there was enough, allowing the pleasure to consume you.

Tears trailed down chubby cheeks, wiped away by your second lover's tender thumb, gentle compared to how roughly he was using your mouth. Words of praise and encouragement fell from their lips, falling on deaf ears as you felt yourself grow more lost.

Far too quickly you felt your peak approaching, withering as the two pumped in and out of you without a care. You squeezed the couch underneath you, garbled moans escaped you as you spasmed; releasing all over your lover.

"Squeezing me so damn tightly.." The man behind you muttered, the sound of shuffling and something hitting the coffee table being heard. Once again a warm body was covering you, except the familar feeling of silky long hair tickled your exposed skin.

"Felt that good, huh? Can't believe you convinced us to do this— [Name]." Suguru chuckled right into your ear, head going slack as his ruts inside you continued you.

You would be embarrassed, mouth loose with excuses if it wasn't already full. Your eyes settled upon your other lover, moaning against his dick— tongue nice and flat the moment his hips stuttered.

And with a sharp groan he was painting your mouth, pulling you close to assure you didn't waste a single drop.

Suguru was last to let go, fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave marks. In one last thrust he was filling you up, shivering as he felt your walls tightened from the motion.

Satoru's hand rose, feeling at the mask for a moment before tugging it off; tossing it to the side to reveal his pretty face. His grin was far too apparent, pulling his hips back the moment he was satisfied. He watched carefully as you swallowed his mess, leaning down to kiss at your face and remark how good you were.

"You have fun?"

"Just a little." You spoke softly, ignoring the soft ache of your voice. You shivered as your dark-haired lover unsheathed himself within you, feeling him switch around to sit on the couch.

Soon enough his hands were reaching for you, pulling you to sit on his lap whilst his face rested in your neck.

"More than a little, you were practically screaming with glee when I grabbed you."

"Oh shut it.."

[nottsangel]

Mirror sex w Rafe (enemies to lovers trope )

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: smut, vaginal sex, mirror sex, cursing, creampie

a/n: i wasn’t sure how to use the trope in a blurb so this is just mirror sex. i hope that’s ok!

nav. // m.list // taglist

“My pretty, pretty girl” Rafe whispered into your ear as he pounded into you from behind, the sounds of skin smacking and your moans filling the room. Your hands firmly gripped the white sheets as you made eye contact with Rafe through the mirror in front of his king-sized bed. It felt slightly embarrassing, watching yourself like this in the mirror, but the way it turned you on was overpowering it all— the wetness from your cunt dripping down your legs.

His cock massaged your walls so perfectly, hitting your g-spot over and over again. It caused your head to fall down slightly with your eyes fluttering shut, but your head was upright again when he gripped your hair firmly and forced you to look at yourself. “Watch me fuck you like the little slut you are or I will stop, alright?” he ordered, his pace quickening into an unrelenting tempo.

“Y-yes” you mumbled, nodding when the words barely came out as he didn’t slow down his harsh movements one bit. He pulled your head up to get you closer to him, your back against his chest as his mouth sucked the flesh of your neck. “Good. Fucking. Girl”

You clenched around him at the praise, causing him to let out a cocky chuckle. He moved his hand over your boobs, gripping and massaging them forcefully before wrapping his hand around your hickey-covered neck, choking you slightly. You could sense he was close by the way his cock twitched inside of you and his thrusts became sloppier, desperately chasing his climax. Your orgasm was nearing as well, the pleasure building and your legs trembling.

“I want you to cum around my cock while you look at that pretty face of yours, yeah?” Rafe instructed as his hand moved to your core and rubbed slow circles on your clit, sending you over the edge. You let out a shaky breath right when you reached your high, your vision blurring while still trying your hardest to look into the mirror. Rafe wrapped an arm around you to hold you up while chasing his own climax, tears rolling down your cheeks due to the overstimulation you were experiencing.

“‘s too much, Rafe!” you cried out as he continued slamming into you at a brutal pace. “Shhh, it’s alright, sweet girl. Gonna fill you up so fucking good” Rafe groaned, tightening his hold on you and painting your walls with his warm cum while maintaining eye contact with you. A string of curse words left his mouth as he completely emptied himself inside of you, his cum mixed with your own wetness slowly dripping down your thighs. He let go of you and you instantly collapsed on the bed, your eyes fluttering shut. Rafe was completely out of breath as his chest moved rapidly up and down while his gaze was focused on your cum-dripping cunt with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Mine. You’re forever mine”

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated since they keep me motivated to write more!!

🏷 tags (join here): @goingbackt0505 @heroftbiggestfan @locker42 @wanturvideo @lucyvg02

[starsofang]

Headbanger

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader Summary: John loves his goth girlfriend. TW: NSFW, MDNI, oral sex, dirty talk, p in v sex, this is honestly freaky nasty Collab with @141wh0re!! <3 Here’s her link! A/N: collab with the lovely skelly, who loves the idea of john with a goth girlfriend just as much as me that we decided to collab on it and write about it :p i do plan on writing another version of this with a dom goth girlfriend bc that idea has me going insane, but for now, i hope you enjoy this because it's a doozy. title inspired by babymetal bc i love them

You threw John into a complete whirlwind when you first came into his life. It was totally unexpected, meeting you, but what was more unexpected was how attracted he was from the very beginning. You were like nothing he’d ever seen before, painted in heavy-set makeup with thickly layered eyeliner, fluttering lashes, and that black lipstick that had him holding on to the last bit of his sanity.

Now, whenever he’d seen pretty women like you who had a love for unique clothing and makeup, always adorned in various accessories and clothing that would cause heads to turn, he often brushed it to the back of his mind because really, what would a boring, old military man like him be doing with lovely goddesses like those?

The two of you clicked though, the dynamic quickly blossoming into a relationship that had John feeling alive again. Sure, he wasn’t an old man (as much as his task force loved to label him as one), but you had a youthful spirit that seemed to smooth out the stress lines on his face from years of grueling battles and hard-earned wins. It was like you were reminding him of how to live life again, rather than let it smother him until he couldn’t breathe.

You were also teaching him that he still had it in him to pop a boner every time he was remotely in your vicinity.

You were cooking up a meal in the kitchen? Hard.

You were lounging on the couch with your feet propped up in his lap? Hard.

You were sitting in front of the mirror, humming along to a song playing from your phone while you did your makeup? Painfully fucking hard.

It was the most mundane things you did that had him nearly pouncing on you like a dog in heat, but who could blame him, really? Besides, it’s not like you minded. You were just as bad as him.

Oftentimes, you’d wear something that you knew would get him riled up. You found that his particular favorite was when you’d strap on a tight corset around your waist, especially the ones that had dainty chains hanging loosely from it. Or, when you’d wear a choker, the thick leather strapped to your neck like a dog collar. John was barely able to restrain himself when you did yourself up like that.

Just like today, you could already see him out of the corner of your eye, silently watching you with tense fists resting in his lap while you finished up in the mirror. His eyes never left you, tracing over the sight of your steady hands carving out the shape of your lips with black lipstick, nor did they leave you when you stood up to enter the closet, tugging out a few clothing options to garner his opinion.

Holding up one of the dresses in your hold to show it off to him, you pretended to ignore the way his expression darkened into something more hungry.

“You think this one will look alright for tonight?” you asked, raising your eyebrows in question as you gauged his response.

John decided it was time for you to meet his boys as he called them, the ones who kept him upright when he’d leave for an extended period of time on a mission, and you wanted to look your best. After all, impressions mattered, even more so when your style didn’t necessarily appeal to all societal standards – though, John wanted you to go as you are, unashamed of the way he could flaunt his goth-loving girlfriend like a trophy on a shelf.

John’s eyes fluttered over to the dress you held up before flicking back to you. “Mm. I like that one.”

You hummed in response, feigning ignorance to the way his voice seemed a bit more sultry, more strangled. He watched as you flipped up another dress option, silently asking for a second opinion, and the way his eyes narrowed didn’t go unnoticed. Of course, the second dress was one of his favorites, with the way it hugged your body while simultaneously cascading a nice flow of fabric that made you look even more entrancing to him. Like a goddess on Earth, and him a mere mortal who was starstruck.

“Playin’ a dangerous game here, love,” he gritted out, and you grinned at him, cocking your head.

“Your opinions are important to me, John.”

John released a breath, glancing back over to the dress, silently thinking. “That one,” he announced, jabbing his head in the direction of the second option. “So long as I can take it off of you by the end of the night.”

You raised an eyebrow at his implications, stalking over to where he sat on the bed to place the mesh of fabric down beside him. “Well, that’s always in the cards,” you mused. “Or you could be a doll and help me put it on for now.”

John groaned low under his breath, leaning back on his hands as they pressed into the soft foam of the mattress. He stared up at you with a look of adoration mixed with starved famish, and it sent heat waves through your entire body. He looked at you like you were his favorite meal while also as if you were the heavens above.

“What’s the use in puttin’ it on when I prefer you with it off?” he grumbled, hands coming up to grab hold of your hips now that you stood in front of him. He gently tugged you forward, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, fingers carding through his hair.

“Because your boys are expecting us. Your plans, by the way,” you teased, your long fingernails gently scratching at the back of his head, eliciting a low moan under his breath.

“M’sure they won’t mind waitin’ a bit,” he grumbled. You snickered in amusement, lightly gripping his hair to tilt his head back, peering down at him with a spark of interest. He smiled up at you, hands slipping off of your hips to instead wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap. “Too pretty of a woman to not want to ruin anyway.”

“I just did my makeup,” you protest, only for him to grin wider.

“That’s the whole point, sweetheart.” John leaned his head into your neck, tickling you with his beard and tracing his lips over your soft skin, pressing longing kisses along the column. You breathed out through your nose at the sensation. “Fuckin’ love the way you do it. Seeing you get all dolled up, god, makes me want to devour you. Such a pretty girl, you are.”

You let out a low hum, eyes fluttering shut as you tilted your head to grant him more access to your neck. His lips trailed along the snug leather that was seated along your neck, his hand coming up to tuck two fingers underneath it and pull you impossibly closer to him.

Chokers were one of his favorites specifically because of its uses. He’d play a game of tug of war with himself, taking advantage of the smooth collar to guide you in ways he wanted you. More importantly, he loved having it live up to the name in effortlessly choking you on occasion.

“Don’t know what a geezer like me did to settle with a woman like you,” he murmured against your skin before promptly pulling back to gaze up at you, eyes heavy with lustful desire.

John’s words sent warmth right down to your core, his praise turning you into an easy puddle of mush. You couldn’t help but shift on his lap in uncontained eagerness, lips parting as you stared at him. His eyes flickered down before leaning forward to take your bottom lip between both of his, giving a teasing suck before pulling back with a grin.

“Goin’ to let me take you, sweetheart?” His voice was hushed and alluring, breath fanning over your face. “Hm? Ruin that pretty makeup of yours just how you always like it?”

Your breath hitched and you were unable to pry your eyes away from his. His gaze was like a scorching burn that singed every inch of your skin.

“I’ll have to redo it if you do that,” you weakly argued, but he could see right through you.

“Never cared about it before,” he retorted right back, and you silently cursed him. John knew just how to rile you up and make you pliant, and unfortunately for you, it was working once again.

As if to persuade you further, he returned to his previous torment on your neck, dipping down to place them along the skin of your chest that peeked out beneath your sleep shirt you had yet to change out of. After all, it wasn’t like he had allowed you the chance to dress properly – yet.

John’s hands trailed up your sides and to your breasts, lightly groping them through the fabric of your shirt. You were a goner just from that, and there was no possible way you were going to deny his request, even if it meant being late to meeting his task force.

A protesting whine was on the tip of your tongue when he let go of them, sliding his hands back down your bottom and instead resting back on your hips, index fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt. His fingertips brushed along your skin, sending a shiver down your spine and an ache to form between your legs.

“Maybe just a quick one won’t hurt,” you reasoned, resulting in a hearty chuckle from him.

“Just a quick one,” he agreed before finally grasping the hem of your shirt and lifting it over your head. With your tits now free, he wasted no time in returning to circling his palms around the fat of them, head dipping down to take one of your nipples in between his lips. Upon contact, he let out a satisfied groan, sending muted vibrations through your body and causing you to whimper softly.

One of your hands tangled itself back into his hair, eagerly pressing him further into your breast, holding him there. He continued to suck greedily, occasionally taking you in between his teeth to lightly bite down, sending flutters in your stomach.

With one of his large hands keeping your breast firmly in place so he could continue his attack with his mouth, the other brushed down your nude sides, calloused fingers rough against the smoothness of your skin. They continued downward until reaching the waistline of your pants, some cute pajamas he’d given you a while back adorned with skulls (because they reminded him of you, of course).

He teased you, barely slipping his fingertips beneath the elastic band.

“John,” you whined. He pulled off of your breast with a small pop, giving you a smug look. “You said it would be a quick one.”

“Did I say that?” he hummed, pressing sloppy kisses along your chest, purposefully avoiding your perk nipples. “Sorry, sweetheart. Tend to lose a bit of my memory when I catch a glimpse of you.”

You snorted at his obvious teasing, opening your mouth to retort before you were promptly cut off by his fingers finally sliding into your waistband, eager to cup your cunt and slip up along your slit. A surprised gasp escaped you, and he grinned against your skin.

“Mm,” he groaned quietly, fingers delving underneath your panties so he could get a feel of the wetness coating them. “Don’t know how you expect me to be quick when you’re this fuckin’ wet. Makes me want to take my time with you.”

His middle finger felt through the warm slick before fixating on your clit, giving it an experimental roll. It caused your mouth to drop open, eyes fluttering. Instant heat flooded from your cunt, pulsating you with an aching burn. His ring finger joined his middle, circling your clit with a skilled routine.

“M’sure you want me to take my time, too, don’t you, sweetheart?” he asked mockingly. You gazed at him through hooded eyelids before nodding dumbly, already tipsy off of his mere touch. “Thought so.”

His pace on your clit was steady and slow. Agonizing, unfulfilling, just enough to keep you on the edge of a crumbling cliff, but not enough to have you free falling. He loved working you into a messy turmoil, slowly breaking you until you were pleading for more. Ruining you.

All thoughts of having to get proper for meeting the boys were thrown out of the window the moment he swirled your clit in delicious ways, having you squirming for more in his lap, attempting to grind down on his hand. The whole time, he wore a devilish grin, taking in the way your mouth filtered out pleased sighs and gasps, the black lipstick staining your lips only adding fuel to the fire.

He wanted to see it smeared and messy, glossed over with your spit, wanted to see it smothering his body. It was an ache he needed to relieve.

“Y’know what I really want, sweetheart?” John asked, and you hummed in acknowledgement. “To see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

You moaned breathlessly, your hips lazily grinding down on his fingers as they tormented your clit. “It’s gonna stain.”

“Good.”

Much to your dismay, he removed his fingers from your pants, giving your hip a soft pat before you found yourself kneeling in front of him, his thighs spread, cock uncomfortably tight in his trousers. He leaned back, resting on his hands, staring down at your position with red hot desire. There was no mistaking his arousal from how he looked at you like you were his holy grail. He’d get on his own knees and pray to you if he could.

You eagerly fumbled with the buckle of his belt, working nimble fingers on his button and zipper. He watched with intensity, eyes focused on the black color that coated your nails with red and white designs as decoration. They were ones he paid for you to get done himself, with the exception of his initial painted on one of your fingers.

Your eyes shifted up to look at him while he lifted his hips so you could tug his pants down enough to tug him out of his boxers, and he nearly finished at the sight of you, long, fake eyelashes fluttering up at him. You were like an enticing siren, luring him into deep pools of black, dragging him down the bottomless pit. He’d happily let you, too.

John’s hand reached out to cup the back of your head, gently guiding you forward. You took in the sight of his cock, hard and thick, the tip flushed an angry red with a bead of precum pebbling at the slit. It was a mouthwatering sight.

You instinctively parted your lips to dart your tongue out, taking in the bitter sweetness of his preseed, enticing a groan from him. His fingers tightened in your hair, keeping you in a firm grip. It encouraged you to take him fully in your mouth, suckling lightly on the tip.

Allowing saliva to pool in your mouth for an easier glide, you slipped further down his cock, taking him halfway before pulling back up and releasing him. The tint of his skin was faintly colored by the lipstick you wore, but you knew John wanted more, wanted to see himself completely ruined by it.

John’s eyes fluttered down to take a look at his cock, his hand remaining in your hair. He let out a hum of approval. “Go on. Make a mess of my cock, hm?”

The tone of his voice was pure sin, sending a shiver down your spine. You wrapped your hand fully around his cock, keeping him steady to feed him back into your mouth. The taste of him burst on your tastebuds, and you found yourself seeking more of it, the mix of musk and soap from the shower he’d taken not too long ago.

Dipping your head deeper, you took as much as him as you could in your mouth before setting an easy pace. You let the hand in your hair tug you up and down, making sure to relax your throat when his hips began to shallowly buck into the sensation of your warmth.

“Fuck, look at you,” he cooed, voice raspy and heavenly. “Such a pretty girl, takin’ it so well.”

You hummed around him, and the feeling made him groan, head falling back.

The more you went down on him, the more drool pooled around your lips, dribbling down your chin. It was a messy work of art, your lipstick smudging around his cock as well as the corners of your mouth, just like he wanted. It coated him with smeared black, leaving streaks behind with every bob of your head.

His groans and grunts filled your ears like sweet melodies, becoming more strangled and raspy ghe more he succumbed to your notions. Eager to hear more, you slid further down until your nose tickled along the pubes that lined his pelvis, throat relaxing around him enough to allow him the intrusion.

“Fuck,” he moaned, gripping your hair tighter and pressing you into him impossibly closer, bucking up into you and causing you to gag. His eyes found yours from where you were swallowed around his dick, darkened with heated want. “That’s it. Take all of it.”

You were eager to please, so you continued, pulling back to suckle the tip just to fall back down to the base. His hips began thrusting up to match your pace, fucking your face while maintaining gentleness as not to hurt you (though, you wouldn’t mind that either, nor would it be the first time he did it).

You could tell from the way his thighs tensed and flexed, and the way his hand tangled your hair in a vice, that he was beginning to unravel. Heat pooled into his abdomen, his cock twitching in your mouth.

Your eyes locked with his, eyelashes fanning up prettily. Your lipstick was ruined, plastering all around his dick like a drunken painting, stalking a claim on him.

John let out a shuddered groan, hips bucking up one last time before his cum spilled down your throat, forcing you to swallow it down. It was a bitter taste that you couldn’t get enough of, greedily taking it for yourself.

You only pulled away when it became too stimulating for him, his hand guiding you off and loosening its grasp. You waited patiently for him to catch his breath, planting a sloppy kiss on his muscled thigh, tattooing a lipstick mark on it to match his cock.

“Jesus, sweetheart,” he gasped out, staring down at you with a dazed smile. His hand reached out to brush his thumb along your glossy bottom lip, smudging a bit of the lipstick further, or at least what remained of it. “C’mon, it’s your turn, yeah? God, just want to ruin you.”

You sucked in a sharp breath when he helped you stand from your knees and to your feet, only to press you right down on the mattress, bent over with your ass perked up for him.

His fingers slipped under the waistline of your pants and shimmied you out of them, leaving you bare and exposed. The sight of you caused him to sigh blissfully, a large hand groping one of your asscheeks and spreading you apart to see the glistening wetness waiting for him.

“Fuckin’ wet, aren’t you, doll? Bet you don’t even need any prep, think you can take me now?”

You whined pathetically, arching a bit more for him to admire the display, head resting comfortably on your crossed arms. You gave him a lazy nod in response, wiggling a bit more.

The pads of his fingers slid through your slick, spreading it along your puffy lips, creating an even bigger mess than before.

They didn’t linger for long before you felt the head of his cock slip through, lubing himself up with your own wetness, occasionally catching on to your clit and causing you to gasp and squirm. A firm hand smacked across your ass, drawing a whimper from you.

“Sit still. Got to make it quick, remember, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t care less about being late to meeting his force. Now that you were desperate to feel the fullness of him inside your weeping walls, it was the last thing on your mind.

Finally, the head of his cock pressed past your first ring of muscle, making your mouth drop open and the breath to get caught in your throat. He pressed more and more, filling you up until it was nearly too much, his hips rested against your ass.

“Fuck, there we go. Such a pretty thing,” he cooed, pulling his hips back just to press back into you with a shallow thrust. It was too much, while not enough. “Sorry ‘bout the makeup, sweetheart.”

You opened your mouth to reply before the words were forced back in when he snapped his hips at a more brutal pace, leaving you speechless and cockdrunk.

John took no mercy on you, meaning it when he said he’d make it quick. He fucked into you with a grueling burn of desire, jolting your body with every thrust, surging you further up the bed. When he felt you slipping away from you, he dipped two fingers under the choker around your neck from behind, tugging you back and holding you up for him to use freely, the leather digging into your throat deliciously.

You released whiny, strangled moans, filling the room with intoxicating noise that filtered through his ears and lit up a fire in his body. Tears began to form along your lash line, dripping down your cheeks and streaking your makeup in a messy trail of black eyeliner and mascara.

You looked absolutely wrecked.

“Good fuckin’ girl, look at you,” he praised, keeping his fingers around your choker but leaning over your backside so he could get a view of your face, grinning devilishly at the sight. “Beautiful.”

“John,” you gasped out, voice broken and shaky, resulting in a smug snicker on his end.

“Yeah, sweetheart? Like bein’ ruined by me, hm?”

You nodded dumbly, mind completely blank of anything other than his cock as it plunged in and out, knocking the wind out of you.

He chuckled again, tightening his grip on the choker and forcing you to arch impossibly more, slapping his hips into the plush of your ass and feeding into the red hot need you’re seeking.

The muscles in your stomach tightened, threatening to snap at any moment. It felt good, so good it had you moaning out his name without so much of a care at how loud you were being.

It only egged him on, releasing his own raspy moans and grunts. Sweat beaded his eyebrow, dripping down the side of his face as he focused on giving you all of him and more.

Simmering heat built into a bushfire, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long. You were teetering on the edge, and as if he knew it, he picked up the pace, causing you to clench around him, sucking him in with a tight grip.

“Yeah, just like that, sweetheart,” he groaned, smoothing his hand that wasn’t gripping your choker up your back and worming its way to your front, plucking one of your nipples between his fingertips. It sent a jolt through you, even more so when that same hand dipped down to circle your clit with his cock rutting into you.

Your orgasm hit you like a truck, mouth dropping open in a silent scream, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your cunt squeezed around him, his hips stuttering and pace becoming sloppy at the sensation, before a long moan left his lips. Warmth flooded inside of your cunt, painting your walls white and leaving you full.

Heavy breaths left both of you, gasping for air. John slowly pulled out of you, brushing his thumb against your cunt and marveling at the white cum that threatened to seep out.

“Think we’ll still be late?” he asked cheekily, and you let out a breathy laugh, reaching an arm back to gently push him away.

You were, in fact, late. Having to redo your makeup and throw together an outfit, decorating your look with your normal display of jewelry and accessories, you ended up at the bar roughly twenty minutes after the original meeting time.

John tugged you inside, seemingly unbothered by your shared carelessness, introducing you to his boys with a proud smile. He didn’t hesitate to drag you along to the bar for some drinks after a brief conversation, hand resting on your lower back in a show of possession.

“Didn’t know Cap was into goth chicks,” Gaz muttered in disbelief, eyes staring the two of you down and taking in your unique clothing and otherworldly makeup choice.

“Shit, I might have to hop on the fuckin’ train,” Soap murmured in awe, earning a sharp kick to his shin from Ghost beneath the table.

[demiesworld]

don't underestimate them.

synopsis: reader goes on a mission with hantengu. before the mission she encounters his emotional counterparts and they seem to have an interest in her.

characters: fem!demon!reader x sekido, karaku, aizetsu, & urogi

contents: inexperienced!reader, choking, dub-con, overstimulation, hair pulling, anal, nipple play, biting, creampie, 5-some, handjobs, masochism, cunninlingus, rough sex, clawing, dirty talk, just pure filth

note: reader is upper moon 5 (let's just say gyokko got murked and she's his replacement) this takes place after entertainment district arc and before swordsmith village arc. this is my first time writing smut in like a long time. hope i didn't disappoint. reader uses she/her pronouns. NOT BETA READ!

credits to the original artist of the photo.

The strings of a biwa instrument plays when you are summoned into the Infinity Castle. Your body is covered in blood that is not yours and a murderous glare is painted on your face. You had just came back from a battle with the flamboyant sound hashira, Uzui Tengen, and his younger comrades three young demon slayer boys. While you, Gyutaro, and Daki put up a strong fight, it seemed to not be enough and the humans were victorious. It sickened you to be defeated by humans. It was pathetic of you to run away with your tail between your legs after you witnessed Gyutaro and Daki get killed by the humans. What frustrated you again was you were summoned to Lord Muzan at the Infinity Castle to give your report on the battle. You had to explain what happened and why two upper moons, who were under your wing, ended up getting killed.

You stand on a floating block looking up at Nakime upon a block adjacent to yours. You could sense no other comrade in your sight. Great. This was going to be fun.

"Biwa Woman!" you shout over to her, "You summoned me here, now what is it that you want of me?"

She lowers her head but says nothing to you. Instead the lights get cut out and you hear the sound of the biwa instrument being plucked. You feel the room shift but you're still surrounded by darkness. 'She must have sent me to another room' you thought as your eyes shift around you. 'What sort of trick is she playing here with me?'

You take one step forward and the lights are turned back on. You are in a room. You're in Lord Muzan's sanctuary. Your body gets chills when you realize what situation you are in now. What will Lord Muzan do to you? Will he scold you for not protecting the upper moon 6? Will he kill you for running away like a coward instead of fighting till the end? Is he going to get rid of you as upper moon 5?

Your thoughts are abruptly cut off when you sense the feeling of multiple knives being stabbed into your body at once from the inside. You gasp for air, your clawed hands grasping at your throat and eyes forced to stare up at the ceiling above you. You fall to your knees desperately trying to breathe as your body violently shakes and trickles of blood seeps from the corners of your eyes, lips, and ears.

"Y/N..." you hear Lord Muzan's voice echo in the room you are suffering in. But you don't see him. It sounds like he's right in front of you yet physically he is not there. "I see that you made it out alive, but not Gyutaro and Daki. Why is that?"

You try to answer him, you want to answer him, to plead your case but that excruciating stabbing doesn't cease. Instead the invisible hold around your neck gets stronger and you let out a feeble squeak. You reach out a hand in an attempt to plead for mercy, but it gets sliced off. As a result, blood spurts out from your sliced off wrist, streams of red pooling on the floor into a puddle.

There was no mercy when it came to Lord Muzan. He showed none of the upper moons mercy if they didn't accomplish a single task that they were given. Yours was to eliminate the boy with the hanafuda earrings. A simple task that Lord Muzan thought you were capable of doing. Unfortunately, it seemed like you weren't competent enough. And you failed.

You squeeze your eyes shut and let out another squeak before thrashing your legs forward. The grip on your neck loosens by just a hair giving you a chance to breathe. "L-Lord Muzan! Please, I-I can't-!" You cry out, your eyes still shut.

"If you hadn't been so careless and selfish during the battle, upper moons six would have been alive and those damned humans would be dead. Instead you wanted to save your own skin, and sacrifice your comrades to their untimely deaths. You knowingly escaped the fight after you witnessed Gyutaro and Daki being killed; you could have defeated the humans upper moon five. You know that you could have, yet you did not. Let me ask you this question, do you think that they would have ran if they saw you getting beheaded Y/N?"

You whimper and shake your head before opening your eyes just to see Muzan standing there holding your neck in his hand. His glowing red eyes apathetically looking into yours. "L-Lord Muzan!"

"Answer my question."

"No my Lord! T-They wouldn't have ran, Gyutaro and Daki would have avenged me! I-I'm sorry I failed you-"

Muzan releases your neck and drops you on the ground, the stabbing feeling in your body comes to a sudden halt as you hunch over and cry in sorrow. He stares down at you with a blank gaze. "I don't care for your useless apology, it's not me you should be apologizing to." He takes a step over your body distancing himself from you, "It should be upper moons 6, whom you should say it to. Alas they are dead..." Muzan looks over his shoulder at you. "Is that not correct?"

You nod your head and sniffle, "Yes, Lord Muzan, they are dead because of me. I...I led them to their demise, to their graves, s-should I..." You lift your head to look at the back of your leader, a confused expression upon your face, "What should I do?" You didn't know what to do at this point.

He straightens his shoulders, "You will eventually figure it out on your own. Now... for your next task. If you are competent enough to execute it."

Your body heals itself from the internal injuries and regenerates your amputated hand as you stand to your full height. Muzan gives you your next mission and your eyes widen as you listen to what the location name is. You swallow before lowering on one knee and bowing your head to Muzan.

"I swear to you Lord Muzan," you began, "I won't fail you."

"Very well because if you do fail prepare to visit an unprecedented grave."

Those are the last words Muzan said to you before you are sent off to your next mission. This time you were paired with upper moon 4, Hantengu. The location he had given you was the swordsmith village.

Months ago you had found out about the location of the swordsmith village thanks to a kakushi that you killed during your time in the entertainment district. The swordsmith village was hidden up in the mountains; where the swordsmith forged swords and weapons for the Demon Slayer Corps. You gave the location to Muzan, hoping that one day you could infiltrate and kill the swordsmiths. However, as the time went by you never heard mention of the swordsmith village until now.

You arrive with Hantengu outside of the swordsmith village before the hours of sunrise within the forest. You are thankful that your demon body closely resembles a human female rather than something like Hantengu. You'd be able to blend if you were to encounter villagers meanwhile Hantengu would be outed by his deformed head. However, Hantengu was fearful of others and with his speed could easily dodge being seen by hiding in dark corners or in high trees.

"Come Hantengu, let's go, we cannot disappoint Lord Muzan." You addressed and you whisper under your breath, "Not again."

The scared demon followed you like a sheep making small whimpering noises and wringing his hands together. As you two traveled on foot, you noticed that the sun was starting to rise earlier than expected. Shit. You needed to find shelter and fast. With a growl and a huff you take Hantengu by the nape of his kimono and using your incredible speed you rushed to an empty shack you luckily found within minutes of the swordsmith village.

This was so infuriating to you. You were given a mission with who you believed was the weakest of the upper moons, despite him being a rank above you, in addition to you not knowing what his powers and abilities were. You had never seen Hantengu perform in battle as you were accustomed to watching him hide and lament during meetings at the Infinity Castle. You thought of him as weak, undeserving of the title as upper rank four, and a mere hindrance. To you a Lower Moon would have been useful hadn't Lord Muzan not killed them.

You enter inside with Hantengu and you let out a frustrated scream. Intentionally you threw the frail-bodied demon against the wall of the hut and your claws elongated, you began to voice your thoughts to Hantengu, "This is ridiculous! Why did Lord Muzan have to place me on a mission with you?! This is something I could handle myself! I can do it on my own! I can prove to Lord Muzan that I am worthy of being one of the twelve kizuki!" You bellow your thoughts to the shaking demon before you. Your clawed hands sharpening as you inch closer to Hantengu.

The demon cowered against the wall, holding up his quivering brittle hands to his head. Hantengu let out small, shaky snivels and he blubbered, "Eek! So loud! So scary and loud! Please!"

"Shut up with your pathetic whining! I can't even hear myself think!" You spat out, covering your ears with your hands. "You're so useless! You're unworthy of being upper rank four! What's the point of having you around if you're not going to be of use?!"

"Stop yelling at me please! I can't help it that I'm like this!" He continued to bicker with you, his croaky voice annoying you further into a blind rage.

You let out a shrill scream and swiped your clawed fingers at Hantengu. "I said shut up!"

Your clawed fingers slice off upper moon 4's head and it topples onto the ground. Inside of the shack the sound of silence permeates. Time goes still. You stand before the decapitated body and look at the head rolling on the ground, still lamenting only for it to stop at your feet. In disgust you coil back and kick it away from you.

"Disgusting." You utter.

Just then that severed head generates a body and the headless body grows a head. You briefly take a step back in shock as you witness glowing red eyes glaring angrily at you. "Han-Hantengu?" You call out your comrades name nervously. What did you do?

A low chuckle from behind you catches your attention and you look over your shoulder to see a tanned shirtless demon with long wavy black hair and horns on his head. His green eyes gazing back at you with mischief in them. "Aha! Isn't this great, Sekido? We got separated!" He takes a step forward towards you and holds your chin in his hand. "And by one of our own it seems..."

Your body was frozen to the ground, unable to move as the green-eyed demon was eyeing you up and down like you were his next meal. He looked like he wanted to devour you, but you weren't positive if that meant as sustenance or... that. A gasp escaped from your lips when he stuck out his long tongue and the kanji for "pleasure" was tattooed on it in black ink.

The sound of a staff being hit against wood startled you, pulling your gaze away from the wild eyed demon over to its copy. The demon whose name was Sekido rises to his feet his towering height making you seem small. With just one stride he easily sandwiches you between him and his look-alike; he huffs as he glares down at you. "Stupid wench." He growls, then he turns his attention to the green-eyed demon. "All I'm feeling is irritancy being around something like her."

"You say that, Sekido, but I'm getting a little excited around this one. She looks and smells divine."

Before you could berate him, the hand on your chin grips it tighter to keep you still, and he licks your cheek with his wet tongue. A shudder runs down your spine and you instinctively shove Karaku away from you. He cackles at your reaction.

"What happened to Hantengu? You disgusting bastard!" You took a defensive stance momentarily forgetting that Sekido was behind you.

Using your distraction as an opportunity, Sekido holds his staff against your neck and your backside presses against his front. Your hands grip at the staff desperately struggling to pull it away. You could feel his rigid torso underneath his kimono. You start to thrash in his hold, but he was too strong compared to you. The red-eyed demon growls into your ear, "Stop moving and maybe we will be lenient with you. Even though you don't deserve such a thing." His sharp fanged teeth gnaw on your ear causing you to arch away from it.

Karaku smirks at your resistance to the both of them and he calmly walks up to you placing his clawed hand on your breast. Your face heats up and you seethe, "Get your hands off of me," Karaku ignores your demand instead he squeezes the mound in his palm like a ball. An hearty, mirthful laugh coming from him when he sees you trying to move away from his touch.

"You say that you want our hands off, but I can smell the arousal coming from you, little minx." He cut through the center of the fabric of your dress using a clawed finger and tore it off leaving the cloth on the wooden floor in shreds. Your body was bare to them now, minus the undergarment that hid your mound. True to Karaku's word, a damp spot could be seen and it confirmed the demon's assumption.

"S-Stop looking at me! Get a-away from me you filthy, disgusting, vile," Your words get cut off by his warm mouth sucking on your left nipple.

Sekido grunts, "Calling us disgusting and vile yet you're the one who is craving it. That makes me mad knowing you want this, but you're refusing to yield." He bites down hard on your earlobe, to the point where blood leaks into his mouth.

That did it for you. Using all of your strength you yank the staff Sekido's holding and twist your body around to sever off his head utilizing the staff. You spin around on your foot and slash Karaku's body in half with the weapon successfully.

You threw the staff on the ground and sneered, "Filthy pigs!"

As you were beginning to think that maybe you had defeated the two of them, you were in for another surprise. Karaku's body that you cut in half turned into a young man with blue eyes, clothed in a blue jumpsuit and a dejected face. The upper half returned to being Karaku who was laughing upon seeing your frightened face.

The green-eyed demon sat on the floor with his legs crossed, and he said, "Aha~ You haven't figured it out by now? Allow me to tell you little minx, you see once you cut off our heads we just grow another body."

A gleeful voice spoke up, "So delightful to be divided! Looks like we didn't have to wait any longer for it."

You took a good look at the two new figures before you. The one on your left with the blue eyes looked at you with pity. Meanwhile the one on your right had a gleeful expression and he was drastically different. He didn't have the physiology of a human like his clones, rather he was part avian. He had wings, talons, and raptor-like feet.

'What the hell is going on right now?' you screamed in your head. 'I can't run out of here or else I'd die from the sun, and I can't fight four of them all at once! I'm helpless here!'

The blue-eyed open spoke softly, "You appear to be at a loss, mistress, why don't you let us help you?" He took a step forward and you took one step back. At this he stopped and he looked perplexed.

"No! All of you stay the hell away from me! I don't care how many times I gotta cut your fucking heads off!" You cried out.

Sekido grunted when his head regenerated itself and he took a long mean glare at you from behind. "This is pissing me off." He turned his head to the blue-eyed demon, "Aizetsu!" They both looked at each other and Aizetsu nodded as he knew what Sekido wanted him to do.

He approached you cautiously and places both of his hands on your shoulders. He lowers your body on the floor to kneel with him and slides his cold hands on the sides of your naked waist. The touch is gentle and lingers on your skin.

"This would be easy if you just submit to us... having to fight with you will upset me because then I'd have to hurt you." Aizetsu leans in closer to your face, his pointed nose touching yours and he whispers, "It'll pain me to cause such a captivating thing like you hurt."

The demon with gold eyes slid behind you and his claws held your wrists behind your back. Due to the hypnotizing look Aizetsu had on you, you didn't fight the hold instead you kneeled there waiting for their next move. The avian demon breathed in your scent deeply and let out a long sigh.

"You smell delicious, if you were a human I would have eaten you up by now." He says.

Aizetsu frowns, "Urogi, don't say that, you'll scare her."

Urogi laughs at this and licks his tongue against the side of your neck. "Why should I have to lie? It is true after all, if she was a human she'll be buried deep in my stomach." Like the crude bastard he was, he adds, "But I will be buried deep inside of hers soon."

The words sent a shiver down your spine and throb to your center. Suddenly you're bent forward, your face hovering over Aizetsu's groin, and Urogi's clawed hands spreading your ass cheeks apart exposing your blossoming folds to them all. The sweet pungent scent of your arousal emanates inside the small abode causing all four male demons to sigh and growl in hunger.

Aizetsu whispered, "Your words tells lies but your body says the truth, mistress," He places a hand on your head and gently guides your mouth over the rigid bulge beneath his clothes. A short, shocked gasp escapes you when you felt it. "We will take good care of you."

"Damn she smells like she's ready for us. What do you think Sekido?" Karaku stands to his feet and inches to your hunched over form, his fingers slowly untying the strings of his hakama.

Sekido grunted, "I don't care what we do with her, but we need to get this over with." He looks at the three of them, "Start however you want with her."

You interjected, "W-Wait a minute! I didn't even give my consent! I'm not an object you can't just-" Your words were cut off when a wet tongue greedily laps at your entrance. A muffled moan comes from you and your eyes squeeze shut. Your thighs clench and body pushes forward trying to get away from it.

The demon that was slurping your juices on his tongue, Urogi, pulls away from your folds and smirks, "You don't have to tell me twice." He lowers his head back to your pussy, taking a harsh suck on your clit and flicking it with his tongue.

Fuck. You were not trying to enjoy this, but the assault on your mound felt too good to try to run away from. You were helpless to these demons as they were physically stronger than you even as individuals. Your mouth kept spewing heavenly-sounding moans while Urogi feasted on your cunt.

"Mistress, won't you please help me?" Aizetsu lifted your head up by grabbing your chin and making you look up at him. Your eyes were glazed over, but you were still lucid.

"I... I don't..."

The blue-eyed demon pulls his pants down to his knees exposing his long, hard shaft to your eyes. It sat daintily against his abdomen; a pearl bead sitting the tip before he used his thumb to smear it. He lets out a soft sigh, a warmth spreading on his cheeks. "It's okay, I-I can show you." Aizetsu's other hand guides your mouth to the tip of his cock. "Picture it as being a dango treat. U-Use your mouth please."

His gentle words were a key to push you into doing it. You timidly nodded your head, letting out another feeble moan when Urogi spat on your clit and then dove his tongue into your haven. You parted your lips around the head of his cock and brought it into your mouth. At the feeling of a moist warmth on him, Aizetsu trembled but he didn't move away instead he leaned closer to you. His hand petting your head in encouragement. "Y-Yes... hmm... now stick out y-your tongue...ah..."

"Hey~ we didn't dumb you down, yet have we?" Karaku said and he pulls down his hakamas to his ankles. His cock was thicker than Aizetsu's and curved a little to the left in its rigid state. "You still have two more demons to pleasure remember?" He cockily stuck out his tongue, the tattooed kanji on view. "You have two hands that are free, so put them to work!"

He snatches a hold of your right hand and guides it to his lower abdomen your fingers tickling the patch of thick curly hair on his pelvis. He lowers it to the base of his shaft, using his large hand to envelop your smaller one around it. Karaku lets out a groan and he bites down on his bottom lip. "Fuck~ It's been so, so long since I've had a woman touch me like this. If your hand feels as snug as your pussy, then I guess we're in for a real treat huh?" His darkened gaze watches you blissfully.

"What happened to the brat that was giving us a hard time?" Sekido snarls as he stands on your left before lowering himself to his knees. He unties the strings of his robe, adjusting his clothing so that his angry and leaking cock stands. He jerks your vacant hand and wraps it around his cock.

Urogi stops drinking away at your essence to answer Sekido's rhetorical question. "Looks like she's lost her fighting spirit! With the way we're all using her body like a common whore she probably gave up." He licks at his lips, "Am I right or am I right you little slut?"

A talon hand slaps against your ass cheek causing you to yelp with Aizetsu's tip in your mouth. The blue-eyed creature shuddered from the vibration and looked down at you. "That feels so good, now try taking it in deeper... you can try right?" Aizetsu doesn't wait for a nod instead he slowly pushes himself in further. The tip of his dick prodding at the back of your throat and wet cavern stimulating his sensitive rod. "Hm! S-So good mistress... keep your tongue out and w-watch your t-teeth... ahh!"

Tears were prickling at the corners of your eyes while your mouth was stuffed with Aizetsu's cock. Karaku began to thrust back and forth into your hand. Sekido was guiding your hand to stroke his dick at a pace that he found suitable. Urogi, the damned bastard, had returned to relentlessly eating you out. How was this all even possible? Four demons taking on one person and using their body to their own selfish greed?

Your body jerked forward when you felt Urogi's tongue circle the rim of your ass. You pulled your mouth away from Aizetsu's cock, gasping for air and weakly said, "N-No! Don't touch me there with your tongue!" You scooted yourself forward trying to get away from him.

He smirked at you, "I don't have to listen to you and we're not all going to fuck just your pretty little pussy. Some of us wants this sweet ass too."

You just sat there stupefied and Urogi took that one moment of distraction to bring you back to his face. Your hands grab for Aizetsu's top pulling him forward while your ass was being violated by his look-alike's tongue. You held the slim body of the sorrowful demon tightly, trembling in what you thought was fear but was pleasure. "A-Ah! N-Not t-there, please! Stop!" Despite your pleads he continued and your body betrayed you by dripping with essence onto the floor.

"Hey~ Her mouth is open. Say 'ah' little minx, or do I have to shove my cock in there?" Your dazed eyes look up to Karaku smirking and holding his cock in his hand. You simply whine, and he takes it as a 'yes' pushing his dick past your mouth and down your throat. "Yeah that's it. Fuck use your tongue, get it nice and sloppy. Make me feel real good will you?" He moans, eyes half-lidded while he watched you.

Urogi was about to finger your ass until he remembered he had claws; at least he was being considerate when he asked for the other two Sekido and Aizetsu to stretch you out.

"I'll do it." Sekido grunts, not giving Aizetsu a chance in being the first to finger you.

Urogi moved from behind you and Sekido took his place. "Delightful~ Make sure you make her ass lose enough for one of us to fit. Wouldn't want to break our new toy."

"Don't tell me what to do you idiot!" Sekido barked at Urogi.

The red-eyed demon spat on your asshole then inserted a finger. You squealed around Karaku's cock and this caused the "pleasure" demon to groan at the vibrations. He began to fuck your throat shallowly. Drool came out of the corners of your mouth and your hands grabbed onto the sides of Karaku's thighs. Sekido curled his finger inside of you, stroking your walls at the same time sliding it back and forth.

Aizetsu stroked his cock as he watched you getting face-fucked by Karaku. He squeezes the tip till precum leaks out and smears it over his cock. "It's making me sad having to wait like this so desperately. I want to be the first to have her, I can't hold it for any longer."

"Who died and made you the leader you coward? If anything I get to go first since it was my idea to have some fun." Karaku says.

"I object to that Karaku~ I ate her sweet little pussy so I get first hit on her!" Urogi exclaims.

Karaku retorts, "Eating her pussy doesn't give you the right to fuck her first."

"Shut the hell up you three!" Sekido finally snaps when he couldn't take their arguing over who gets to go first anymore. He stuck another finger inside of your tight hole stretching it. As his two digits were working their way deeper into you, you were shamelessly moaning around Karaku's cock. "Since you all want to fight over who gets to fuck her, let's have the bitch decide who gets to."

Sekido's hand grips you by your throat and pulls you off of his counterpart's length. A gasp comes from you when you feel the hand squeezing your neck and a warm breath ghosting next to your ear. A growl emits from the red-eyed demon before he asks, "Now... tell us... which one of us do you want to fuck you first?"

"Uh... um... I..." You were looking at them one by one. Your eyes landing on Karaku with his mischievous grin, then Aizetsu's hopeful gaze, and lastly Urogi's stare of pure unfiltered desire. You wanted for this to be gentle for you since it was your first time experiencing sexual relations as a demon. After doing some process of elimination in your head, and based on how each demon had treated you, your gaze landed on Aizetsu. "Y-You..."

Aizetsu's brows lifted at the decision you made, "Me?" When you nodded your head the demon sits himself in front of you and places his hands on your knees. "It's relieving to hear that you want me first, was it my desperation that made you choose me?"

'His desperation? No... I chose you because you look like you'll take it easy on me. Don't tell me I made the wrong choice.' You thought as you feel Sekido move from behind you so Aizetsu could lie you on your back. His slim muscled figure hovering over yours and eyes looking down into yours expectantly. Was he waiting for an answer?

The tip of his cock prodded at your entrance bringing you back to reality for a moment. "Hm! N-No it wasn't that..." you say and place your hands on his shoulders.

Aizetsu hums before sliding his tip up to your clit and sliding it up and down your nub. Your breath hitched at the touch, and your nails were digging into his skin. "You're lying to me, I can tell."

"I'm not lying to you! I'm not! I promise!" Before you can continue explaining the demon had slid his cock into your heat. The thickness of his girth spreading you open to shape around his length. You let out a loud moan and tossed your head back, trying to pull your hips away. Aizetsu saw this and grabbed your waist in a tight grip. "P-Please!"

"Ahh... y-you f-feel so good around me. So warm and wet, yet you think that I am the desperate one." He mutters, "Maybe by the time we're done," The blue-eyed demon slowly pulls himself out to the hilt then slams back inside of you. This action forcing another moan out of you. "Y-you'll be the one begging for m-more."

Your nails were clawing at his back, drawing blood that didn't seem to faze him at all. Despite you thinking this demon would be gentle with you it appeared to be false. He wasn't gentle as his hips slammed into yours sloppily and high-pitched whimpers came from him. Your legs snaked around his waist to keep him close and your folds were dripping your juices on his shaft. The sound of skin slapping and wet noises filling the shack the five of you were in.

Aizetsu looks down at where the two of you are connected and a ring of white is painted on his cock. His cheeks flush from the sight, and he slows down his thrusts to ogle at it. He places his thumb on your clit, flicking it like it was some sort of toy as he says, "You must be feeling really good right now mistress? A-Am I making you feel good? Do you like my c-cock?" He slams deep into you again. "H-Huh? Mistress? Tell me I'm making you feel good with my cock."

You whine when he gives your pussy quick and hard thrusts. You nod your head and cover your eyes with your arm, "Y-Yes! Y-Yes you're making me feel good! Ah! Keep going just like that! Ah!"

Your arm is moved away from covering your face brought down to your side by Sekido. He kneels on the floor, his knees on either side of your head and he glares down at you. "Don't hide your face from us you filthy whore. We want to see just how undone you can be." You stare up at him in a daze, your lower body being used like a cock-sleeve by Aizetsu, and it seemed like the sorrowful demon wasn't letting up.

You whine when an unfamiliar spot was repeatedly stroked by the blue-eyed demon's cock. A pathetic, needy moan escaped from your lips and your toes curl. "W-what was that?! You just- oh! F-Fuck you did it again!" You gasp.

Aizetsu's tongue stuck out from his mouth as he rutted against your body like a dog in heat. His eyebrows furrowed deeply and irises were glazed over as he chanted in a whisper, "So good, so good, feels so-so good. Ohh... ohh..." His voice was losing it's steadiness as his thrusts grew frantic. Never once did he miss hitting that unfamiliar spot inside of you. "I'm al-almost there... almost there. I'm going to cum, c-can I come inside of you?"

You were too far into the moment to hear what he had said. You nodded your head without knowing and that was all the answer he needed. He whimpers, "I'm cumming, I'm cumming, o-oh! Hm! A-ah!" Aizetsu gave a few short and rapid thrusts before he stilled his hips and spilled his seed deep into your cervix. Your eyes widened when you felt a pool of warmth inside of you.

The demon pulls his softening cock out of your pussy; his cum leaking out of your abused cunt and trailing down to your puckered hole. The other two demons, Karaku and Urogi grinned widely at the sight of it. Sekido just lets out a grunt after releasing his hold on your arms.

"Well, well, well let's hope you're still tight for the both of us, little minx." Karaku says and he positions your body so that it's laying right on top of his. Yours legs are weak as they shake and your hand holds onto his shoulder for support.

"Wow~ You're not even going to let her have a break first Karaku?" Urogi teases.

The green-eyed demon stuck out his tongue to lick his lips then replies, "Why should I? She's a big strong demon just like we are. She should be able to take the pain." He lines up his tip with your pussy and pushes himself inside. He moans at the feeling of your tight walls gripping him snug. "Fuuck~ Your pussy is even better than I imagined. You feel how you're sucking me in?" You bite down on your bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut as you bear through the stretch of Karaku's cock. "Urogi you want to take her ass so we can get this started? I'm about to explode with the way she's gripping me."

Urogi takes his cock out and strokes it. "Aha, don't mind if I do."

He spits a wad of saliva onto your puckered rim before sliding himself into you with ease. You and him both moan together when he entered inside. A drawn-out pleasured moan emitted from Urogi when he feels the snugness around his dick. You covered your mouth with your clawed hands, once again trying to smother the sounds you were making. Your legs were wobbling since you weren't holding onto anything for support.

"Move those hands away from your face. We want to hear you moan like a slut for us." Karaku says. Timidly, you uncovered your mouth and lowered your hands to your collarbones. You kept your eyes closed however and that didn't seem to please the "pleasure" demon. He grumbled, "Open your eyes and look at me."

You shake your head "no" until Urogi yanks you by your hair and your eyes open in surprise from him. "You better listen to what we say or we won't go as easy as Aizetsu did on you." You gasp and nodded your head in fear of what they could do. You look down at Karaku's smirk on his face; shuddering when he moved to sit up right his face right in between your breasts.

"Hmm..." he groans licking a stripe up on your sternum to your neck then sucking on the damp skin there. "Don't ever hide those pretty eyes away from me again, I wanna watch you crumble like sand while we ruin you."

Sekido chided, "Are you going to do anything or you just going to sit there warming your cocks?"

"We're just about to do that boss," Urogi sassed.

"Then hurry it up." He replied.

A mutter, probably a curse, was all Urogi made. The avian demon pulls his cock out half-way then slams his hips against your ass. You quickly go to cover your mouth to mute another moan, but Karaku was faster and predicted that you would do that. He snatched your wrists in his hands and grinned when you released that sluttish cry.

"That's right let us hear you." He raised his hips up and down, matching the rhythm and speed Urogi was giving you. "Let us hear those fucking... delectable sounds. Fuck! Your pussy just tightened around me when I said that. You like it when I talk about you, s-shit, like you're a slut don't you?" You shake your head, but your cunt tightens around him again. Karaku laughs and hollers, "Oh fuck! I'm getting so excited right now with you!"

"You should see, damn, her ass bouncing on my cock right now Karaku. You're taking my cock so f-fucking well!" Urogi exclaimed, he lets go of your hair and presses his mouth into your ear. His thrusts get harder, "Sweet tight little ass. I want to hear that mouth tell us what you're feeling. You're feeling good little slut? Huh?"

You whimper when Karaku sucks on your nipple while watching you lose yourself into the abyss of pleasure. You felt like your brain was turning into mush as the two demons had you bouncing on their thick cocks. "It feels so f-fucking good. The way- the way you're deep inside of me! Oh my god!" You arch your back and let out a squeak when Karaku's dick hit that unfamiliar spot from before. "T-There Karaku, right there please! O-oh! Y-Yes!"

Karaku popped his mouth away from your nipple and held you by the neck, fucking his dick up into you roughly and stimulating your sweet spot. "Shit... fucking take my cock. Take it all... just like that! Oh yes, sweet little demoness, I'm gonna spill my cum deep inside of you. Nice and swollen with my cum. You might end up pregnant with my children."

The mention of you being impregnated surprised you and your walls tightened once more. "Y-Yes, fill me up with your cum. I want it... I want it... f-fuck!" You mutter in a daze, and place your hands on the demon's shoulders. You let out a squeal when Urogi nibbled on your earlobe. "...deep inside of me. Oh my god... oh fuck... h-happening... something's happening..."

They go faster inside of each of your holes. Urogi's talons pinch into your hips causing you to bleed and Karaku's mouth latches on your nipple brutally sucking at it again. You let out a squeal, body trembling, and an orgasm spilling right out from you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You wail out, tossing your head back. Tears were brimming at the corners of your eyes at this point.

Urogi groans after you've came on their dicks, "Damn, I'm gonna paint the inside of your ass with my cum, whore." He huffs into your ear, then chuckles darkly, "Ah shit, you ready for it? Shit, here it comes. Here it fucking comes!" His hips repeatedly pound into your ass then stills when he's buried into the hilt stuffing you with his seed.

A gasp comes from you once you feel a warmth in your ass. "I feel it, oh my god, I can feel your cum!" You press your hand down on your lower abdomen, unknowingly causing Karaku to feel the added pressure on his cock that was sheathed inside of you.

The green-eyed demon groans and mouths wetly against your nipple. "Fuck, pull out of her Urogi, and get out of my way."

Urogi reluctantly does remove himself from you and scoots to a different position away from the two. Karaku's hands go to your hips, squeezing them tight he lifted your body up and slammed you down on his cock. It punches out moans from you when he kept repeating it over and over. Not once did he relent or showed you mercy. He was abusing your cunt and pushing you into having another orgasm. Which you unexpectedly did. Your walls pulsated on his dick and body shook as you were bounced on Karaku's length. Your eyes were heavy, tongue lolling out of your mouth and a long weak moan you made.

"Heheh~ Look at you now, it looks like we've dumbed you out already. Haha~ Fuck, fuck, I think I'm going to cum." His eyes looks down at where you're connected with him and the thick ring of white covers his shaft. Along with his groin dampen with your juices. The demon throws his head back and pulls you down on his cock while he cums deep inside of you. Karaku hisses, "Shit, shit, shit,"

You collapse forward onto him, thankfully he catches you and holds you in his arms for a moment. While the two of you are gathering your breaths, the last demon of the hour, Sekido stands with his cock still hard. Your eyes drift over to his towering figure and his raging red eyes. You swallow nervously as you recalled how he had handled you so roughly earlier. Maybe you had made the right choice in getting them to fuck you from most gentle to least gentle. However a part of you felt you were going to regret it by how the sour expression on Sekido's face looked when he made eye contact with you.

You didn't say a word as you shakily slid the demon's cock out from you and crawled towards Sekido. He stood there planted to the floor waiting for your next move. They must have really made you dumb because you grabbed his cock and attempted to put it in your mouth. He growled at that. Sekido stops you by placing his hand on your forehead and pushing you away from his dick.

"You stupid whore, did I give you permission to suck my cock?"

You whimpered at his harsh tone. You thought that he would have enjoyed it since you didn't do it for him. Also you thought it would be a way of requesting for him to be easy with you.

Sekido's eyes narrowed at you, "What? Now you can't speak? I asked you a question you idiot!" You flinched when his hand snagged your hair and tilted your head back. "Answer my question. Did I... give you permission... to suck, my, cock?"

You shook your head and replied with a timid, "N-No."

"No, what?"

"No, Sekido-"

Slap!

Your head was turned to the side after the sudden struck to your cheek. Your eyes widen in shock, and you locked eyes with the rageful demon. Sekido snarls, "I'm not like these other fools and give someone as unworthy, disgusting, and pitiful as you a right to even say my name. You better address me as Lord Sekido from now on you filthy wench."

A nod was your response, before you quickly said, "Yes Lord Sekido."

He grunted with a finality then released your hair. "Look away from me and get on your hands and knees."

You obeyed his demand and did what he instructed you to. Sekido grabs the back of your head with one hand and pushes your face into the wooden floor. The other hand clutches both your wrists and hold them behind your back. You weren't even made aware of when he was going to put his cock inside of you.

"This is what you were made for. Just to be a cock-sleeve to four demons. You look filthy right now. Cum from different men dripping out of your used holes like a whore. I shouldn't even stick my cock inside of you, fucking slut." You let out a whine, but he silenced it with more pressure onto your head. "Shut the hell up! Earlier you were fighting against us and said vile things to us. Now you want for the one that you fear the most to treat you delicately and show you mercy?"

He leaned down to press his mouth to your ear. "Let me tell you one thing, Y/N." Your body jolted forward when he sheathed himself, without warning, into your pussy and your walls tightening around his length. Sekido grunted at the warmth and wetness you were exuding. "You're the one who's pathetic," He slams his cock against your sweet spot. "You're the one who's unworthy," He pulls himself out fully, "And you're the one who's useless."

Clap!

A squeak came from you when Sekido slams his cock fully deep into you again. Your body writhed while the demon was treating you like what he said you were: a cock-sleeve. He was pounding into your core with no clemency. He was fucking you like he hated every atom of your existence. A series of moans left your mouth with little to no regret of how you sounded. You were enjoying this, Sekido saw this, and it was pissing him off.

"Slut! Fucking slut!" He growls. His hand releases the grip on your hair to slap your ass. Afterwards he holds you by the front of your neck and squeezes it tight to where you can't breathe. Your pussy clenches around his dick and you cum again for the third, fourth (?) time that day.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you whine out, "Yes... y-yes, yes, yes! Lord Sekido! Hmm! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" Your words were taunting him, how dare you speak like that? He was trying to teach you a lesson but you were somehow putting the odds of this in your favor. "Oh! Lord Sekido!"

The tip of his cock was jabbing at your cervix, making you whine and meet his rapid thrusts with your hips. Your skins slapping at an unsteady and wild rhythm. His claws dug into your neck causing you to bleed. Sekido was wanting for you to hate this as much as he hated you behaving like a harlot for them. Unfortunate for him you weren't keen on giving him the satisfaction. Especially when you cry out, "Cum inside of me, Lord Sekido! Cum inside!"

"No!" He barks out then slams his dick into you harder. His nails drag across your neck more blood gushing onto the floor in a puddle. "I, ha, won't give you that, ha, you slut." He panted.

He could feel himself getting closer to his end. Sekido leans over your shoulder blade his fangs grazing along your skin. The temptation of embedding his teeth into your naked and unmarked skin eats at him. He couldn't just ignore it. Sekido sinks his fangs into your shoulder meanwhile growling like an animal when he does so. You scream out in pleasure upon the sudden bite and rut closer to him.

Abruptly the demon male pulls himself out from your thoroughly abused cunt and strokes his cock. Sekido hisses when he shoots his cum all over your pussy and on the floor. Your body still positioned on your knees, face on the wooden floor, and limp arms at your sides. He pants after he's released himself, sitting on the floor and admiring the work he just put into you. You were a mess. Your legs were twitching. Their cum was dripping out of your pussy. You had scratches, some bite marks, and a few bruises on you.

But damn it, did you still look pretty.

With your body exhausted from the rounds of sex you've just endured you shut your eyes and fell into a deep slumber. You woke up hours later to find out it was the dead of night, then you remembered that you needed to infiltrate the swordsmith village with Hantengu. You go to stand to your feet and you rush outside the shack till you recalled the events that happened during the day. You had sex with four of Hantengu's counterparts.

"Oh my god!" You lament then enter back into the shack. You then realized you were fully clothed and there seemed to be no sort of injuries on you. Well of course there wouldn't be any you were a demon after all. As you look around in the shack they weren't there. The demons were gone. The only thing that proved what happened to you was a rolled up scroll on a makeshift table.

You squinted your eyes as you tried to read the illegible handwriting and crossed out words.

[To: Y/N wench pretty girl Y/N

By the time you wake your pathetic ass up we will have left to go hunt for the surdsmitt vullige swordsmith village. Remember your mission to distract the mist hashira and love hashira while we kill the kid with the hanafuda earrings. After we're done killing the little brat we'll come back to you too We will meet you at the rendezvous point if everything goes according to plan. It won't go according to plan It will go according to plan This should go smoothly.

From: Aizetsu Urogi Karaku HANTENGU

from: aizetsu]

You let out a sigh, "I hope we all make it out alive you idiots. And if we don't well," You look down at the remnants of cum still dripping from your body with a fond smile. "I won't forget you."

notes: omg this was the longest smut i've ever wrote and it took me weeks to finish but it is here! lmk what you think of it!

© demiesworld

[carvinglies]

Soulmate au part two: Creepypasta

part 1 || part 3 || part 4 Requests are open!

tw: mentions of flesh eating in EJ’s part

Sharing tattoo’s: Jason the toymaker

Jason didn’t think he would ever have a soulmate but desperately wanted someone to be with him and play for eternity. In that desperation, he stole many soulmates from their other half which went on for a while until Jason was tinkering with his newest doll adding on his “special” additions, when he felt a stinging sensation on his upper thigh. Pulling up his pant leg, he stared at the new ink on his leg confused before it hit him– he had a soulmate! A playmate for eternity was destined to meet him, that overjoyed Jason. He dropped his project to go find this soulmate of his, the blue door in his workshop beckoning him as he stepped inside to search. Days long searching ensued before Jason found himself standing in front of his destiny bound soulmate.

“Would you play with me forever?” The burgundy haired male asked the person as they stared wide eyed.

First words to soulmate written on their body:Bloodypainter

Helen never had time to worry about soulmates when he was younger but when he found his passion for painting the idea of being bound to another inspired him to no end. Ever since he was a kid Helen had the words, “Do you have a bandaid? I just scraped my knee falling for you.” Written on him, anyone he showed would laugh at it but Helen just found it confusing who says that to someone they just met? Well that’s what he thought before knocking over someone in the street when he went to go buy art supplies.

Before he could get out a sorry the person grinned bashadly loudly speaking, “Do you have a bandaid? I just scraped my knee falling for you.”

Words that describe their soulmate are written on them:Jeff the killer

Jeff honestly never gave two shits who his soulmate was thinking they just had some weird words scribbled on them due to their method of connection. He had no reason to go out looking for his soulmate. Thinking and I quote, “if destiny really wanted us to be soulmates they would meet me themselves.” So that’s exactly what destiny did. Jeff was forced to go out for snacks by BEN grumbling through his mask he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Turning around he glared at who disturbed him. “Sorry to disturb you but you kinda look like my writing,” they looked around before continuing, “I was wondering if you were, y’know, who I think you are?” 

Gravitational pull towards their soulmate:Laughing Jack

It pissed Laughing Jack off when it began the constant feeling of being pulled in a direction even if it’s easy to resist gets annoying. He can’t even escape it inside his box! Jumping around from house to house especially is harder if you no longer can stay long from the pull forcing you away. Laughing Jack was relieved when the pull wasn’t as harsh anymore when he was at the nearest carnival looking to terrorize kids, well that was the case before the pull suddenly ramped it up and flung laughing Jack colliding with someone else who seemed to have been thrown too.

The person held their head as they awkwardly waved blabbering out the first sentence that came to mind, “So hey soulmate? I guess?”

Ink marks that move towards your soulmate:Eyeless Jack 

It was hard looking for your soulmate while being swamped with work from medical school, and even harder after being sacrificed and turned into an unwilling flesh eating demon. While past Jack would have loved to meet his soulmate the one that’s here now feared the possibility of eating them accidentally the ideas of the what if’s flooding into his head as he stared at the smoke like tattoo’s decorating his arms. Sometimes when Jack was a child he would play this game where he would walk forward watching as the tattoos reached out towards the direction his soulmate was curling around his arms before receding when he stepped back. Eyeless Jack while a recluse craved normality so he finally exited his cabin towards the nearest store. While checking out his items, ones he didn’t really need but anything to feel normal he supposed, the cashier's hand touched his tattoos burned as the burning sensation spread all the way to his hand. Jack assumed the cashier felt it too watching they gawked.

Regaining their composure they began to tease him, “what took you so long?”

Seeing the world in black and white till you meet your soulmate :Ticci toby

Toby was always curious about how colors looked, what if he was wearing a horrendously color matched outfit and couldn’t tell because he couldn't see it? What if his favorite knitted sweater from when he was little was a piss colored yellow? So many questions have gone unanswered it still annoys him that he can’t see colors what if yellow was a whole different color then what he thought it was, well Cupid decided today he would find out as leaves crunched under his foot as Toby walked the woods coming across someone sitting on the cliff looking out at the city below them, when he stepped on a particular damp twig they whipped their head around locking eyes with Toby. Colors flooded both of their senses overwhelmingly so, Toby swore he could smell them too at the beginning.

Overwhelmed with shock his soulmate jumped up running towards him stopping halfway before beginning their sentence feverishly, “Nice to meet you!” They extended their hand for a handshake, Toby cautiously stepped forward before recorpirating 

[isawritesshit]

The Color Blue - Chapter 1

image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest

Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.

Warnings and Content: fem! reader and slightly ooc! (?) gojo (ig; i feel like i didn't write him as in character as i wanted), cursing, allusions to and anxiety about marriage consummation, themes of traumatized and anxiety-ridden reader, themes of forced/arranged marriage

Author's Note: Fuck me in the ass, it took me wayyy too long to get this out to y'all I'M SOOOO SORRY GUYS I DIED AND NOW I AM REBORN BACK AND SEXIER THAN EVER! Anyway, I'm at least happy to finally get this out for you guys because you guys gave me so much love for the prologue (mwah mwah). If you have yet to read the prologue, pleaseee do so! Provides some good context to the premise of the story. I'm going to flag once more that there will be themes of nsfw and physical/mental abuse down the line!

Word Count: ~7.3k

___________________________________________________________

"Are you afraid of me?"

He spoke. You masked your surprise easily. Did you look afraid? What made him suspect that? How do you answer?

Respond clearly. "No, Gojo-sama. Apologies if I seem at all startled in any way. I am taking in my new surroundings," you replied with a slight incline of your head towards him.

Satoru's eyebrows raised a little. It was the first time he had ever heard your voice. As he suspected, it was graceful and beautiful, but still so sad. And what was with the honorifics? He waited a second for you to say something else, but nothing came. "Do you like it? The house that is." Satoru figured the only way to get anything out of you was to ask himself.

He asked you a question. Respond clearly. Tell him what he wishes."Yes, your home is beautiful Gojo-sama. I'm very fortunate to be living here as your wife." Your words sounded exactly the same, clipped and poised to perfection like the small smile you had on your face. Your skin was cold despite the amount of fabric that covered it, but you refused to shiver. You refused to tremble despite the fear you were feeling. Yes, you had trained and prepared yourself for this. You would be fine.

Satoru only cocked his head and crossed his legs, observing you like a painting from where he sat on the couch. "Thank you." His voice conveyed his usual charisma, but the look he was giving you did not. He sighed as you only bowed your head again and said nothing. He could tell you were afraid, you just didn't wish to admit it. Was it stubbornness or nervousness that had you standing like that before him, looking both strong and weak at the same time?

After a few moments, he spoke again, this time with a little more calmness and reassurance. "I don't bite, y'know." Not a word left your lips at that. You didn't even move. It was like he had a statue standing in a wedding dress in the middle of his foyer. Not a statue, a corpse, with unfeeling, empty eyes. Maybe you weren't happy with the current situation. "Did you like the reception? I'm sure you had input in the planning."

Take this chance to show your worth. "I planned the entire reception, Gojo-sama. I hope it was to your liking." You clasped your hands even tighter as you waited for his reaction.

Satoru raised his eyebrows. "Oh, wow. I'm sorry then, I'm sure you liked it because you put it all together. Well, uh, I definitely enjoyed it, and I'm sure everyone else did too. You did a great job. Uh, thank you," Satoru chuckled. He meant every word. Planning an event of that nature must have been a daunting task and you had done it all on your own. You must be pretty independent.

"Of course, Gojo-sama. It was my duty," you replied with another bow. The fear in your gut subsided at his words. It seemed he could be won over by acts of service.

Duty. That's when it clicked in Satoru's head. You saw this as 100% a duty. Well, it wasn't like he didn't see this arrangement as a duty too, but it had always been more than that to him. It was both a duty and an enjoyment. At least, that's what he hoped it would be for the both of you.

He said nothing for a few moments. You didn't move. He could tell by the uncomfortable silence that the household staff was probably listening from somewhere nearby. Perhaps that also made you uneasy. "Let's head somewhere more private," Satoru murmured, and stood from the couch.

Private? A chill ran down your spine that worsened when he made his way over to you. Were you both going to-

You remained silent as he took your arm gently and led you up the steps of the grand staircase. He moved slowly, watching and searching you for any indication of emotion or feeling, but you gave him none. He cleared his throat before speaking once more. "That outfit seems uncomfortable. I'm surprised you've been able to wear it all day."

Your mind was running circles around his words, but you didn't show it. Is he going to offer to take it off me? Why is he being so gentle with me? Where is he leading me? A bridal chamber? A bedroom? "It is not uncomfortable, just a little heavy," you responded, forcing yourself to keep your voice even. "The tailors did a fabulous job with it."

Satoru hummed and muttered his agreement. He would take this as slow as possible. He knew that the first thing he would have to do was make you comfortable. "I see. If you would like, you may change out of it, and I can take you on a tour of the rest of the estate. Or, you can sleep if you're tired."

This seems like a test, you thought. Which option would he prefer? "I can change and join you on a tour of the home," you responded. "If that is what you wish of me."

Not exactly the answer he was looking for, but an answer nonetheless. "Alright. I'll show you your bedroom. It's apart of my rooms of the estate. I hope that's alright," he said as he guided you towards a set of double doors down the hall.

Satoru stepped before you to open the doors himself, a few staff members walking out past. You assumed that they were finishing their cleaning for the night. You could tell a few of them looked at you as they passed, though you never looked up to meet their gaze.

You could tell these were Gojo's chambers, as they were decorated somewhat differently from the rest of the house. While the entire house had a more contemporary feel to it, his part of the estate added western styles to it: gray and white furnishing, an upstairs that led to an open second floor balcony overlooking the first floor living room space, comfortable carpeting, and a woodsy, homey scent. There was a dining area and billiards further to the right to entertain guests. Truly a home within a home.

Satoru led you up the stairs, watching as you looked over the second floor railing into the living room. When you reached the top, he gestured to the first door on the left. "This is my bedroom here, in case you ever need to find me," he said as he moved you two forward. "And this one is yours." He opened the next door over.

Satoru let you step into the room first. "I wasn't sure what you would prefer in terms of the color of the room and everything, so I had a few of my staff design it for me. Do you like it?" he asked, a slight guilt to his tone. He felt bad that he knew almost nothing about you. He didn't even know where to start when he began planning to incorporate you into his home, but he figured an inviting bedroom would be a start.

"Yes, very much so" you replied. The room was bigger than your one at the Kamo estate. The furniture was made of oak wood, with the room itself having accents in white and various shades of purple. The canopy bed was plush and had silk sheets. Most of your attention was drawn towards the bookshelf in one corner, which already had some of your books as well as many new ones. The closed curtains, which had little butterflies sown on them, had moonlight escaping into the room. The wall to the right had another door, which you assumed led to the bathroom and closet. "Thank you for arranging this for me, Gojo-sama."

You moved your gaze down as you turned to face him. "Of course," he chirped.

Silence once more.

He sighed audibly. "You're gonna hurt your neck if you keep looking down like that, pretty girl. Especially with that monstrosity on your head," he said softly as he approached you. You stilled, jumping a bit as Satoru reached his hands forward to grasp the top of the headpiece. "Shh, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? Just taking it off for you," he murmured when he saw you tense up. He removed the headpiece gently, letting your hair fall. He resisted the urge to touch the soft locks upon seeing them unbound, and instead opted for setting the headpiece on a side table. "There. Feels a lot better, doesn't it?"

"Yes. Thank you, Gojo-sama." You still didn't look at him. After a pause you asked, "May I go change now?"

Why did you ask for permission? "Sure," he answered, a little confused as he watched you retreat into the bathroom. He stood awkwardly in the room as he heard you shuffle around behind the door. He sighed and leaned against the bed. What was it that had you so... uptight? Why wouldn't you relax?

Meanwhile, you made yourself busy undressing and slipping out of the heavy fabrics of your wedding garb in the bathroom, hanging up the piece and choosing a simple, flowing dress to change into. You looked into the mirror once more, and paused.

You had forgotten about the white lace lingerie your handmaidens had forced you into while dressing you this morning. A provoking technique, they had called it. It was beautiful, the entire ensemble having been comprised of silk and lace with little flowers adorning it, but you felt incredibly uncomfortable now that you saw yourself with it on. You felt more like a prized ham, wrapped up and ready to be eaten. And that is my responsibility tonight-

Your thoughts were broken by the sound of movement coming from the room. Right. He's still out there. You thought back to how he had taken off your headpiece. You couldn't help but be frightened for a moment, but then the way he removed it had been... gentle, as all his other actions toward you had been.

You were used to men like him: large, imposing sorcerers, with big egos and even bigger amounts of cursed energy. However, when any of those men came close to you, maybe even to just put a hand on your shoulder, their touch was also gentle, but not in the way Satoru was. They were gentle and domineering. Satoru had been both gentle and considerate.

But what he had called you...

It still felt like he was trying to get something out of you. And you didn't like it.

You slipped on the dress over the lingerie, letting the soft velvet material warm you as the skirt ended at your ankles. You had always liked this evening dress.

Satoru's head shot up when he heard the door click open. You stepped back into the room, ready to be led. Your apparel took him aback at first. He had expected you to choose something comfortable, a t-shirt and leggings at least, but you still came out dressed like you were going somewhere. You looked beautiful though, and he supposed it was nice to see you in something that wasn't clan-styled regalia (didn't matter that he was still wearing his outfit from today).

Satoru said nothing as you took his arm and let him lead you into the estate. Although he didn't look directly at you, he observed your movements. Beautifully robotic was the way he could best describe it. But why?

Then it dawned on him. The wedding had been ceremonial, so your actions there he could ignore, but everything after... it was like you were still in the ceremony, even in this moment. He saw it firsthand when you said your goodbyes to your family. You would be seeing them so much less now that you were married, yet neither of your parents nor siblings hugged you or expressed any emotion when sending you off.

Then finally with himself. You never looked at him. You complimented him at every opportunity. You asked for permission to go get dressed.

He could never get you to relax. To be comfortable. It was like you were being monitored by some invisible camera that he couldn't see and that you feared.

Duty. 100% a duty.

He looked down at you once more as you walked down the hallway, eyes trained ahead. Yes, those eyes had been his first sign, he realized. For what once held liveliness and curiosity in youth had been replaced with a senseless, dull husk of what he remembered.

Something had happened in those seven years since he last saw you. He felt sorry for you.

He felt sorry because he felt like this was somehow his fault.

But that wasn't going to stop him from trying to be the best he could to you.

___________________________________________________________

An hour later, Satoru had shown you about half of the estate, everything between recreational rooms, kitchens, dining rooms, and his own personal office. Yet, as he talked, you seemed disinterested, elsewhere.

The both of you were on the first floor, walking down a hallway with floor to ceiling windows on the left wall.

"There's not much left to show you, or at least anything that's interesting anyway. If there's anywhere else you'd like to..." Satoru's voice trailed off when he looked at you again, staring out of the windows as you passed.

There. You looked out the windows toward the estate garden, your eyes wide, glittering, and curious. He opened his mouth and then closed it. You looked like a little girl staring at a new doll in a toy store. Finally, something that he could read from you that you refused to hide. Wonder and interest.

Satoru stopped walking when the two of you reached a set of glass doors that led outside. "Do you want to see the garden?" he asked, almost chuckling when you nodded eagerly. "Let's go then." He opened one of the doors to let you through, watching you with amusement. You still kept your face neutral, hands folded over your chest as you stepped out into the open air before walking, practically running, over to the vast flower beds and trees across the lawn.

He just stared as you bursted with this sudden childlike excitement. So you can be won over somehow. Satoru laughed under his breath, a small smirk on his face as he went to join you. You started by walking between bushes, running your hands along any part of the plants as you could. He never would have guessed that you were interested in plants, but now that he thought about it, it made sense. He could see you being the type of girl that's interested in feminine things. Things like dresses, books, and maybe even chocolate desserts. Things like flowers.

You were kneeling next to a bush of blue hydrangeas as he approached. He thought you looked perfect like this, the moonlight playing off of your hair, skin, and dress while you ran your fingers along petals. However, when you realized he was getting closer, you quickly got up and returned to how you were in the foyer: standing straight, hands clasped, and head bowed. It stopped Satoru in his tracks, but also made him understand a little more of how you worked.

You must see a husband, him, as an authority figure that you have to please. Satoru didn't know why. Maybe your family pushed you to be a good wife, but now you're just taking it too far. You must be able to relax when you're comfortable, or when you're alone. That had to be it. Right now, you seem to view this place as comforting, so he had to be the same.

And if he seemed to make you feel uncomfortable, he would leave you alone.

But first, he had to try to get through to you.

"Do you like gardens?" Satoru asked, even though the answer was really fucking obvious.

"Yes, Gojo-sama," you replied. "I like flowers and plants. They are a great enjoyment of mine. Your garden is the most magnificent I have ever seen."

It was the best Satoru had ever seen too, but at this point, he couldn't tell if you were lying to him just to make him happy. He took a step closer and huffed a little. "Y'know... you don't have to call me that. I mean, I'm your husband, not the emperor," he chuckled, though he was dead serious. Laughing through it was the only way to show that he wasn't mad at you. "Why do you like flowers? Or these ones in particular?" He gestured to the bush that you had been admiring.

If you were nervous or scared, you didn't show it. You seemed to be pondering for a moment as you looked at the bush. "I... don't know. Flowers have interested me since I was a child. I used to keep up a garden at home."

A garden that you'll never get to take care of again, he realized. "Well, if you want or... if you need something to do, I can have someone show you where we keep our gardening supplies. You can do as much or as little as you like of course."

Your eyes lit up at the request. "That would be lovely, Gojo-" He could tell you were about to add the "-sama" at the end, but stopped yourself. He still smiled at the way that you seemed to beam in the current setting.

"What other things do you like? Do you have any hobbies?" Satoru asked, watching as you continued to run your hands along the plant.

"I like music," you stated.

"Really? You play any instruments?" He proceeded to raise his eyebrows as you listed a slew of different types that you knew how to play, though you added that piano was your favorite. "What else?"

"I like... cooking, and cats, and," you settled one of the hydrangeas in your hand, "the color blue."

Satoru hummed in response. He felt like he was getting somewhere. "Really? Well in that case, I guess I should've had your room be that color."

"Purple is still just as nice," you replied with a small smile. It was brief, but he could tell it was genuine. It took his breath away. It was almost embarrassing, this effect you were having on him.

"Yeah, I guess." Satoru dared to move a step closer to you. He could see you tense, and decided this was as far as he would get. Maybe now was the time to get some answers out of you. He watched your hand continue to rub the petals. "How do you feel about... all of this. Really."

"Your garden is dazzling-"

"No, I mean our... situation. Be honest with me," he said gently, but the way he worded it almost made it sound like he was pleading with you.

You paused before answering. Your hand stopped moving. "This marriage is just as important to me as it is to my father and the Kamo name. I will do right by him to ensure that it succeeds. And not just for him, but for you as well." Your tone was light and sophisticated, your voice sweet as can be, but it still felt fabricated. Rehearsed. Satoru wasn't buying it.

After a few moments, he decided to try something a little bold. "Look. I'm not your father, okay? And this isn't the Kamo estate. You don't have to be so... restrictive around me. I know this is, like, your first time ever talking to me, but I'm not some authoritarian." He almost regretted the words when he saw your guilty face. "But of course, that also means I'm not going to control the way you act. You can do whatever you want, say whatever you want. It's all fine by me." Silence again. "(Y/N)?"

You seemed... confused. Satoru spoke again. "Are you feeling alright? All I'm saying is I want you to be comfortable here. If that means... not interacting with me as much, then I get that."

Still nothing.

Satoru sighed. Maybe he needed to take a different approach. Maybe he just needed to leave you alone for a while. "If there is... anything else you want to see, I can show you. Otherwise, I'm going to go to bed. You can stay out here as long as you want..." he said softly. He began to turn away from you, listening for your movements as he started to walk inside. You only walked from your spot and moved further into the garden.

The halls echoed with the sound of his footsteps. That went... much differently than expected.

He thought back to fantasies he used have of what this night would look like: learning more about you, showing you around the estate, laughing with you until both of your stomachs went numb.

Kissing you for the first time in that garden, and, if you wanted it, carrying you back to his room in seconds.

But as he thought more about it, Satoru realized just how unlikely those scenarios would have been, especially with the current situation. He speculated that your behavior was a combination of your familial expectations, anxiety, and the fact that you were meeting him for the first time. Not to mention, he knew he wasn't the most approachable-looking person in the world.

This was going to take some time. He would let you get used to the house first, get used to seeing him and the other staff around. Then eventually, you might begin to open up to him once you felt safe.

Or you might not talk to him at all.

Satoru really hoped it didn't come to that.

___________________________________________________________

Some time ended up being much longer than what Satoru thought you would need. It had been a week since you last spoke, and you made no effort to approach him.

He did get some semblance of a routine you kept. You were definitely a busy body, always up and ready with a full breakfast waiting for him on the dining room table before he was up (although, since he had the following two weeks after the wedding off, he was sleeping in later than normal). By the time he was finished eating and getting ready for his day, you had gone halfway through your daily routine, which included cleaning and managing the state of almost every room in the whole building. Once that was finished, you prepared lunch, taking your portion out to the garden to eat. The rest of the day you used for your own recreation, usually something along the lines of taking walks, reading, or taking care of different parts of the garden. Of course, you still had time set aside to make him dinner before you stayed in your room for the rest of the night.

Just noticing the things you do throughout the day was a source of admiration from him alone. Satoru knew that the kind of work he did would be considered maddening and dangerous, yet he accomplished everything with ease. He couldn't help but think of you in the same light. You completed the same tasks everyday without fail or signs of fatigue (gods know he could barely clean a fucking toilet without gagging). He noticed that the meals you cooked were not just chosen randomly, but instead were meant to be perfectly balanced in terms of nutrition while still complimenting every bite he took. In other words, fucking delicious. Satoru knew he wasn't a bad cook either, but you made five star meals like it was no one's business.

He would see you often around the house, your skirts or dresses flowing as you flitted about. He could tell you favored modest clothing, usually in either knee to floor-length dresses, or blouses with skirts of the same length. Your makeup was simple, your hair always done up and clean.

Whenever he was close enough to you or entered a room you were in, you always bowed politely and addressed him, never saying more than was needed, before returning to whatever it was you were working on. Satoru knew if he asked, you would sit down and have a conversation with him or eat with him, but he wasn't going to push it. He wanted to be sure it was something you were okay with.

Yet hours and days dragged with almost no change. What was meant to be your two week honeymoon break passed, and Satoru had to return to his missions. Somehow you had already known what time he gets up to eat, and, just like almost any other day, there was a breakfast waiting for him.

No sign of the person who cooked it, though.

Satoru decided he couldn't take this anymore, the awkwardness and silence. No, he was going to find you and asked if you wanted to eat this breakfast with him.

Luckily, he found you in the kitchen putting away dishes you had just finished washing. "Good morning, (Y/N)," he said, trying to sound as polite as he could without frightening you.

You must have been lost in thought, because you jumped when he said your name and turned towards him.

Head bowed. Eyes down. Hands folded.

He was tired of it.

"Good morning, Gojo," you replied. "I hope you had a restful evening last night."

"I did..." he said. "I was just... wondering if you wanted to eat that delicious-looking breakfast you made with me. You're allowed to say no, of course." He felt stupid having to add that last bit.

"Apologies, Gojo, but I already took my breakfast this morning, but I sincerely appreciate your offer." He felt his stomach drop inside him a little. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"No, it's fine. I'll be home later tonight." He tried to keep his tone from sounding disappointed. He couldn't be mad at you for eating before he asked you. However, Satoru wanted to end the conversation positively, with something not so... stale. He turned to walk to the door, looking once more over his shoulder at where you still stood. He opened his mouth once, closed it, and then opened it again. "You look gorgeous today, by the way."

That surprised you. Not the words necessarily, nor the fact that these weren't your best clothes, but the way he said it. Like he meant it. It stirred something in you. You decided to look up at him, but he was already gone.

A while later, Satoru was dressed and ready to go, his car parked just outside with the AC blasting. He walked down the grand staircase... with you waiting for him at the bottom.

You were waiting for him. He paused in front of you once he reached the bottom of the steps. You had assumed your usually stance, but... he could tell you wanted to say something.

"I... realized that I never asked what you would like me to make for dinner for when you return..." you said as if you were just realizing that you were standing here, and you needed to make up an excuse.

It tugged at his heartstrings a bit. You had never asked if he had a preference for dinner, so... this was you trying to approach him to start a conversation. "Well, whatever you want to make is fine. You're such an amazing cook. I would never not eat anything you make," Satoru exclaimed with a small smile before leaning in a bit as if telling you a secret. "But, if I must request something, I reallyyy like mochi desserts," he whispered before pulling away. "But you didn't hear it from me."

Your small smile and barely noticeable laugh made his heart explode. Pride swelled in his chest. So you have a sense of humor in some regard...

He smiled and walked past you to the door, walking through before-

"Gojo," you called from across the room. Satoru turned at the sound of you calling his name.

"Have... have a nice day today..." you said, giving him a small bow.

His eyes widened in surprise before he flashed you a grin. "You too, pretty girl." And just like that, he left, the door shutting behind him.

Satoru was trying to do his best not to holler in excitement on the other side of the door. You went out of your way to meet him at the front door and ask what he wanted for dinner and told him to have a good day? He felt like a middle school girl. A stupid smile plastered itself on his face as he walked to his car.

And stayed for the rest of the day after.

___________________________________________________________

The next few weeks went just the same: him waking up to breakfast that you sometimes stopped by to eat a few bites of, you saying goodbye and asking what he wanted for dinner at the door, and him coming home to that meal in the evening, which you occasionally ate with him also.

Satoru felt pretty spoiled if he was being honest. He never liked those mysogynistic views on gender roles, especially when it came to the roles of a husband and wife, but he was now understanding the appeal. He had assured you a few times that you didn't need to have something home cooked and ready for him each time he came home, and that he was just as fine with takeout, but that never stopped you. He knew it was serious, if not a little concerning, when he asked for a three-tiered Danish cake for dessert as a joke and you had made two because you, in your words, got bored and had the time. He didn't even know he owned the cooking supplies needed to do that. Nevertheless, to say he ate most of that within a few days would be an understatement.

As time grew, Satoru had been able to observe you more closely. There were the normal things, like the type of books you liked to read (mostly poetry), what time you liked to take your walks (sometime between 3:00 and 6:00pm), and what days you went to the grocery store and farmers market (Wednesdays, if he's correct) despite household staff insisting to him to tell you to stop because it was technically their job. He could never find himself to do so.

Then there were a few... less fortunate things. You still don't look up at him, for starters, and your voice still retained that proper, unnatural tone. Besides the times where you say goodbye to him in the mornings, you always observe and never speak unless he speaks to you. You have a cell phone, but you almost never use it, so he assumed you probably have no friends that you contact, or even family that wanted to contact you for that matter. Lastly, among a few more things, you always try to sneak an ice pack from the fridge some nights when you think he can't see it in your hand as you walk back to your room with it. He never knew what it was for, until he saw it on your neck while you read in the library, something he had to peak through the doors to see.

You get neck pains because of the subservient posture you forced yourself to have around him, and Satoru started to think just how far back this training you had been given goes. He knew that you couldn't get neck pains from bowing if you've only been doing it for a month.

One day, he brought the situation up to Yaga as they watched some student sorcerers training out on the grounds. "You really don't know the kind of backwards training the Kamos put their girls through?" Yaga asked, fixing a stitch on one of his jujustu dolls. "I thought you knew what you were getting into, especially since you're in one of the clans yourself."

"Well, I'm starting to see it," Satoru says with a wince. "I just don't know how to get her to... relax, I guess. Act normal, y'know?"

"Do you think she even knows how?" Yaga mused. Satoru went still. "The Kamos are traditionalistic; their customs span all the way back to the Golden Age of Jujustu as a way to preserve the glory of that time period. This includes how they train their... females."

Satoru furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know much," Yaga said, a piece of the string in his mouth as he adjusted a stitch. "The kinds of things like how to please a husband, how to raise kids, how to behave around authority figures, which includes men. Weird stuff like that. And if (Y/N) is Arao Kamo's only daughter that was betrothed to marry the Six-Eyes wielding Gojo clan head, you can expect her to be well educated in that regard."

Satoru sighs. He felt stupid for not looking into that, for chalking it up to some kind of anxious defense when it was much more than that. "I'm a real fucking idiot."

"Yeah, well, while that may be true, there's not much you can do but give it time. With the kind of stuff she was brainwashed to believe, the least you can do is give her some patience," Yaga said, finishing up his patch.

"True, but that'll take forever," Satoru groans, looking out at the young sorcerers sparring. "She won't do anything unless I tell her to. She doesn't know what it's like to just... have some sort of free will."

"Then maybe show her what's like to have one," Yaga says with a groan, settling back into the bench they were sitting on.

There was a pause before Satoru chuckled. "This is the one time you've actually given me advice that I considered listening to."

"Good. You should, otherwise I'll send you on another mission from this weekend," Yaga grumbled.

"Fine, I'll listen."

___________________________________________________________

That next day, Satoru planned on asking you about something when he saw you before he left.

"Hey, pretty girl," he quipped with a smile as he walked down the stairs, enjoying the slight blush that formed on your cheeks, something he had noticed the past few times he called you that.

"Good morn-" your gentle words were cut off by a sudden cough and a sniffle that caught his attention. He stepped in front of you.

"Hey, are you alright? Is your throat okay?" he asked, his usual teasing tone replaced with one of concern.

You seemed to pause for a moment before speaking. "I'm alright. Something caught in my throat is-" You coughed again, this time more aggressively as you turned to cover it.

Satoru's brow furrowed. He gently pulled your chin so you could face him again. He felt your forehead with the back of his hand. "You're burning up, (Y/N). You probably have a fever."

"I can assure you, Gojo, I feel-" You gasped as you were suddenly lifted into his arms, his hands resting underneath your back and knees as he walked you back up the stairs. He smiled a little when he felt you throw your arms around his neck.

"Please don't lie to me, (Y/N). How long have you been feeling like this?" Satoru asked calmly as he carried you to your room. You looked down at the floor.

A pause. "About the past two days." Satoru sighed.

He opened the door to your room and set you down on the bed. "Hold tight, okay? I'm just going to go grab some things..." He left and returned a few minutes later with an ice pack wrapped in a towel, some medicine, and a glass of water.

Setting the items down on your bedside table, Satoru started by ripping two pills out of their packaging and handing them to you with the water. "Why have you been walking about like normal when you've been feeling this way for the past two days?"

You took a moment to take the pills before answering. "I am well enough to complete my usual routine, so I saw no need for rest. I had the staff prepare your meals to make sure you did not catch my illness," you replied weakly, trying not to cough.

Satoru shook his head. "But we have people hired here to do those tasks anyway. You still need to take care of yourself." Your brow furrowed.

"But I'm still-"

"Don''t fight me on this," Satoru butted in. You lowered your head, eyes despondent. "I don't mean to say I don't appreciate what you do every single day. Really, I really appreciate it. But I don't want you doing anything when you're clearly feeling like shit."

"My apologies-"

"Don't apologize. Please." Satoru's mouth tightened when he saw the ashamed look on your face, the way your shoulders caved slightly. He spoke again, this time more smoothly. "I'll call Yaga to cancel my appointments for today. Just let me take care of you... and don't feel bad about it. Okay?"

Satoru didn't care that he was almost begging with you, but he needed you to understand that that's all he really wanted right now. To take care of and cater to you for a change instead of you constantly doing so for him.

"But, you might get sick too..." His chest tightened a little at the guilt you displayed, your tone of voice, the slight whine in it.

"That's fine. Just means I don't have to go to work longer," Satoru chuckled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to your legs. "But don't think that's the only reason I'm here with you now, of course."

Your lips moved into a small, downturned smile as you huffed a laugh. You weren't even smiling in full, yet he thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

A sharp, painful sounding cough from you broke the silence. Satoru handed you the water again, propping another pillow behind your head. Once you finished, he took the water from you and handed you a woolen blanket that you had resting on the end of your bed. "I'll get some lozenges for your throat and some tissues. For now, just rest for me, okay? I'll come back to check on you, but if you need anything just yell. I'll be in my room," he said as he adjusted the ice pack onto your forehead.

"Okay," you whispered. You looked almost... stunned. Like you never expected this. It made Satoru sadder than he would like to admit.

After a few seconds, he stood, turned off the lights, and shut the door quietly. He walked away right before the sound of your soft cries reached the door.

___________________________________________________________

Satoru looked after you for the next two days, making sure you took medications and got proper rest. Even when you were well enough to get back on your feet, he still made your meals and brought you ice packs and popsicles at night for your throat.

He apologized the first few times he served you food, scratching the back of his head and laughing. Sure, his grilled cheese and tomato soup wasn't bad, but it was embarrassing compared to your culinary genius. You never replied, looking back at him with a perplexed expression.

Satoru noticed this, and he had his suspicions as to why you may be confused. Because you had been living with him for the past month and a half, he was able to easily discern what your looks meant, or at least, what he thought they meant. Your confusion was not necessarily because of actual confusion, but rather, because you weren't used to gestures like this. It was a little disheartening, of course, but slowly, you began to accept them with a small smile and nod of your head. It put him at ease to see you that way.

Now was the third day Satoru stayed home to be with you, and because you seemed to be doing much better, he knew this would probably be the last day he would have to do so. Thus so, he wanted to make the most of it.

It was early afternoon when Satory began to approach your room. You had taken to sleeping in while being sick, and if there was one thing he had definitely learned from this time with you, it's that you could sleep when you weren't waking yourself up at a certain time. He found it cute, and somewhat surprising.

He snuck into your room as you slept, gently placing the reason he came in on your bedside table: a vase, with those blue hydrangeas in it. And just as he was about to walk out, you called his name.

Satoru stilled and turned slowly. You were staring at the flowers on the bedside with a haphazard, exhausted look on your face. God, and just when he thought this moment couldn't get any more precious...

"Fuck, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. Goddamn, and I had it all planned out too! Having you wake up to flowers, I was just gonna get cracking on some blueberry pancakes and everything-"

"Oh... are we celebrating something?" you asked, looking between your hands and the flowers.

"No, 's just because. Unless there's something you want to celebrate? Happy your-fever-decreased-from-103-to-101 day?" he chuckled. "Anyway, I'm going to attempt to make pancakes even though I'm ass at it. Hope you're okay with Frosted Flakes as a fall-back option." Satoru turned towards the door again. This woman has him adding blueberries to his pancakes-

"Satoru...?"

He paused, stopped, buffered, restarted. Did you just call him Satoru? His brain was running laps around the replayed sound of your voice in his head as he turned. He was elated, estatic, down-right jolly, one might say.

And then all that was thrown out the window he faced you completely, and you were looking right at him.

Head up. Eyes bright. Smile... paragon.

"Thank you... for taking care of me."

Satoru knew you weren't just talking about this past three days. He felt like a five year old boy laying his eyes on you again for the first time as he, the ever so confident, swaggering, and teasing Gojo Satoru, flushed. "Yeah, no, it's no biggie, you deserve it cause you do so much and you're my wife so I kind of have to and-" he bumped into the door behind him, "fuck, you know what? I'm just gonna shut up and go... pancakes... haha, yeah..."

This poor man Satoru turned the corner and facepalmed, shutting your door behind him while your small laughs could be heard from the other side of the door. Running a hand through his hair, he tried his best to compose himself while he walked away, but then your face flashed in his mind again, and it was like he had a buzz that reached from his brain down to his whole body. He was smitten.

Once he reached the kitchen, soft music playing from his phone, he searched up that pancake recipe. While he began to get out ingredients, there was a knock as someone entered through the doors that led to the rest of the estate. One of the household staff.

"Sir, there's a guest at the front door," the woman stated.

"Who?" Satoru asked as he leaned over the counter while scrolling through the recipe.

"Arao Kamo, sir."

Fuck.

___________________________________________________________

tags: @leonora13x @cole-silas @feeiry @mysuperrainbow @tw0fvced @emptybrain01 @xixiwang @drilled-brain @lvieee @xxkoyukixx @we-loveebony @sereniteav @ilovecoyotepeterson10 @baby—vera @jebemticeluporodicu @louannfox

I love you guys

[shariasweet]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

l.heeseung 𝒙 f.reader

wc ::: drabble length sharinote ::: it looks like I’m writing a lot for hee… but I feel like this was perfect for him — I was picturing jake too but I used to write him SOOO MUCH :( face fucking, facial, sort of rough hee… anyways ! reader doesn’t speak here ❕

meeting your brother’s new friend upon his sneaky ploy to see if the rumors were true… were you really such a slur for all of your brother’s friends?

‘hah… wow… so your brother wasn’t lying was he? you really are a slut.’ you could practically hear the smirk painting heeseung’s face.

humming around his cock — you could feel the fat bulbous tip of his cock roughly kissing the back of your throat whilst he bucked his hips into your mouth.

‘yeah..? isn’t that right?’ his hand carefully caressed the back of your head… his fingers gently entangling with your hair as he pushed your head down — forcing his full length down the tight expanse of your throat.

‘god… you are so so pretty.’ your wide teary eyes stared back up at him as you hallowed your cheeks — tongue twirling around his shaft and tracing it’s adorning veins. ‘fuck…’ hee threw his head back. with your nose was snug against his pelvic bone, you carefully shook your head — bobbing up for air with spit dribbling down your chin. ‘don’t look at me like that, bunny.’ the male laughed.

truth be told, your brother would go absolutely ballistic. he’d lose his mind if he were to walk into the scene that was unfolding before him — heeseung’s cock buried deep inside of your throat as you needily humped against his shoe.

just ballistic... he’d already had some notion that you were an all around slut… specifically only for his friends though. whether you did it to piss him off, or you genuinely found the guys he’d bring around attractive… he’d always end his friendships knowing that some jerk had been inside of his little sister.

it’d happened when you’d kissed his friend jake in high school… or when he’d found out via jake, you’d fucked his friend, jay your freshman year of college…

safe to say the two of you didn’t speak for quite some time… and you were damn sure he’d never introduce you to any friend of his ever again.

but heeseung..? a friend he’d made recently working some internship had apparently heard of your affairs too. intrigued, he’d came up with some ploy to meet you. so there he was, leaning against your doorframe as he towered over you — handsome as ever. his hair falling perfectly over his glasses as he grinned.

you’d gone from ‘you must be y/n.’ — what appeared to be an attempt to become acquainted to this… him bullying his swollen, hard cock down your (now) very well-acquainted throat.

with your hips stuttering against his shoe you could feel your arousal coating your folds… it lathered against your soaked through panties — the friction driving you insane as you continued bobbing your head up and down on his dick. even your clit deliciously nudging against the tongue of his shoe caused you to whine.

‘c’mon… might as well finish.’ heeseung grinned. his hold on your neck tightening as he stroked himself in front of your face — gently slapping his wet cock across your face before tapping it against your puffy lips.

‘open.’ obediently, you obliged… lips falling agape as he aligned his tip at the entrance of your lips — not before a fat glob of his spit fell dripping down his tip onto your tongue. ‘just for good measure.’ he sat straight, running his fingers through your hair.

‘now go on. suck.’ he yanked you back before slamming his cock back into your throat. the handsome stranger relentlessly fucked your mouth — your babbling vibrating around his length as drool pooled around his base… dripping down his slick coated balls.

‘j-just… just like that… fffuck!!! ‘gonna cum…’

the older male quickly pulled out of your mouth — jerking himself off as you stared up at his with your tongue lolled out. ‘sshit!’ heeseung hissed as thick ropes of creamy, white cum painted your face and tongue… spilling down your neck and between your cleavage as you licked your lips clean.

‘god… you are so hot.’ he huffed.

before you could reply, the two of you heard the front door unlock — your brother was back home. ‘was really hoping we’d get to fuck, bunny… maybe another time?’

he grinned, wiping himself off and tucking himself into his sweats before hurriedly sneaking out of your room.

that's something you’d definitely be looking forward to.

potential room for an au or a part two…

[cynarisgayass]

𓍊𓋼~In the heat of the moment~𓋼𓍊

Type: Short oneshots

Description: WOOT! First ZZZ writing! Let's go! So basically this is like, you're on the run from the ethereals and you're hidden, backed up against a wall. The heat of the moment leads to a kiss because you think you may not make it out in time and it's something you have to do before you die type thing. You get out tho dw. Ngl it's kinda cringey, but do I care? Nope.

Rating: Mature

Reader: GN, is a proxy (not either of the MCs though)

Includes: Nicole/ Billy kid

Nicole:

You're eyes darted in the direction you'd just came from, you had beads of sweat forming on your forehead and your heart felt like it was about to pound out of your chest. They were getting closer, ethereals more menacing then you'd ever seen and despite your expert knowledge on the hollow...there didn't seem to be a way for you to ditch them...or even get out for that matter.

"Proxy! What do we do know?! Billy and Anby are already outside and those things are catching up?! Hello!! I'm not paying the deposit if you don't answer me!" Nicole punched your arm gently, you could tell she was starting to get scared and if you were being honest, telling her you didn't know how to get her out was probably the most difficult thing you'd ever done.

"I'm sorry Nicole, I...I should've found another escape route...done more." You looked down at your feet, but her hands grabbed onto your shoulders and she shook you, "Proxy, snap out of it. If we can't get out of here then...then I'm not going down without a fight and I'm not going to have you moping around in our final moments!"

Your eyes met hers and despite everything, she had smile on her face as she spoke to you. Of course, you'd always considered her beautiful, but in that moment you realized what you needed to do, before anything could force the two of you apart for good. You pulled her closer to you and closed the gap, kissing her as the heat of the moment painted feelings in both of your hearts.

You only parted when Billy's voice rang out in your ears and a rope swayed in front of you, guiding you to safety.

Billy kid:

Billy's guns rang out in your ears as you bolted into the nearest building, slamming the door shut behind you when the two of you were safely inside. He hurried to barricade it while you caught your breath, ethereals clobbering around outside and your head spinning with every option of escaping, but there didn't seem to be any. You were out of options..."Billy, i-i don't know what to do. That was our only exit...i can't think of any others and my bangboos malfunctioning....we are gonna die! I'm sorry! This is all my fault!"

You felt tears prick at your eyes and emotions tug at your heartstrings, of all the times you could have failed a mission...why know.

"Woah now Proxy! Don't blame yourself! In my eyes you're my Starlight Knight! You worked so hard to get us out of here and I know you tried your best, that's all I could ask for...and I'm just glad, I'm not alone." He shoved his gun back in his holster and patted the top of your head gently, it was a little random sure...but it felt nice.

The poorly made barricade started to give out and the only thing you could think to do before you were corrupted by ethereals, was seal the deal with the cyborg you'd fallen in love with. You stood up straighter and leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his metal face as he (somehow??) blushed bright pink.

"Proxy, Billy!! This way! We cleared a path!"

The two of you snapped your attention behind you, were Nicole and Andy were standing, with all to knowing smiles on their faces. Apparently Nicole had already made bets on when you'd finally share your feelings...though now wasn't the time to collect...yet.