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sena-seastar · 5 months ago

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Burning Desire

Aemond x Older!sister Reader

Summary: You rush off to confront your brother Aemond after discovering he hurt your sister, only to find him crying. You are angry at him for what he has done, but you cannot stand to see your little brother suffer.

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Sibling incest

A/N: This was supposed to be an angsty comfort fic, but it very quickly got out of hand. All dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in High Valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes. (Gif is not mine!)

You stormed through the castle halls, ignoring the maids and knights who quickly stepped out of your way. Usually, you would give them some sign of acknowledgment, but tonight, you couldn’t— not when your anger was boiling over. Your hands trembled with repressed rage, and your fingers curled into fists as you tried desperately to refrain from lashing out. There was only one person who was deserving of your wrath, and you were headed to find him now.

When you arrived at his door, you entered the room, not bothering to knock. The loud sound of the wooden door slamming close behind you echoed in the air. The room was dark; only a few candles were lit, though they were burning dangerously low. You squint your eyes, searching until you find the silver-haired man hunched over in his chair. Your robe made a slight whooshing sound as you stormed over to his side.

“How dare you!” Your voice cut through the air like a sharpened blade, every word dripping with venom and contempt.

Aemond says nothing. His head is lowered, and his long silver tresses conceal his face.

“You dare to lay a hand on our sister?! Has she not suffered enough?! And now you wish to send her into battle?!” Your chest is heaving wildly as you lose what little composure remains to you.

Once again, you are met with a deafening silence that angers you even more.

“Have you nothing to say?!” you yell, each word cracking like a whip. Your brows furrow and your lips curl into a snarl.

Yet once again, your words go unanswered. You open your lips, prepared to berate him even more until quiet sobs reach your ears. Your blood runs cold, and you freeze. Aemond’s body jerked with every gasp that escaped his throat.

“I am alone,” he whispers . “As I always have been.”

His words move you to tears.

“Aemond,” you whisper, stepping closer.

You reach out a hand to touch his shoulder but pull it away just before reaching him. Your mind is suddenly conflicted. Your rage is quickly converting into sadness with every second that passes. The two of you rarely saw eye to eye these past few weeks. His actions above Shipbreaker Bay had left you horrified. The abhorrent murder of your nephew, Jaehaerys, happened not long after. You blamed Aemond for that and did not bother trying to hide it from him.

Then, Aegon returned from Rook’s Rest, burned and broken beyond repair. Your mother came to you shortly after, sharing her thoughts about what had happened. She believed Aemond to be responsible, but you could not bring yourself to believe it at the time. But as the days passed, you found yourself becoming increasingly unsure. Especially after today, when the horrific details of his actions at Sharp Point reached you. Most days, you could hardly even recognize him—this strange man who shares the face of your sweet little brother.

You take a deep breath before reaching out. Your hand trembles as you place it on his shoulder, but he does not flinch from your touch. He leans into it. Aemond raises his head just enough to look you in the eyes. His face is stained with tears, and his eye is red and gleaming with tears, ready to fall. His silver hair is unusually messy and unkempt. The leather eyepatch is gone, exposing the beautiful sapphire embedded into his eyesocket. It is a sight he has entrusted very few to see.

“I am sorry,” he cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I know,” you whisper, pulling him close.

He buries his face into your stomach. His large hands gripped tightly at your sides, and you did your best not to wince. You lift a hand, brushing down his unkempt hair. You were angry at him. You had come here to yell at him, maybe even hit him, but you couldn’t. Not when it filled your heart with great sorrow to see your brother in so much pain. Your little brother. The boy you had always tried so hard to shield from the cruelty of this world. The boy who had always run to you for comfort after being humiliated by Aegon time and time again.

Aemond continued to sob. His tears made the thin fabric of your nightdress stick to your skin, and the cold wetness sent a chill down your spine. You gasp as you feel him pull you down, sitting you on his lap. He held you close, burying his face into the curve of your neck. Your hands rested against the warm, bare skin of his back as you held him. He must have been preparing for bed not long before you arrived as he was only dressed in a pair of black lambswool breeches.

“You are not alone,” you reassure him, gently kissing the scar that marred his brow. “I am here, as I always have been.”

There is a slight chill in the air, but the heat radiating from his skin keeps you warm. Aemond sniffles but says nothing. You can feel his tears sliding down your neck. You move a hand up to his head, toying with his hair. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, seemingly inhaling your scent. Aemond shifts in his seat, spreading his legs a little wider, making the position more comfortable for you. A quiet gasp escapes your throat as you feel the taut muscle of his thigh pressing into the most intimate part of your body.

The feeling sends a rush of heat through your veins. Your breath quickens as you try to push the sensation aside. Your face burns as shame begins to overwhelm you. He just wanted to be close to you, searching for comfort in your arms as he had done many times before. But your body is turning it into something perverse.

Aemond bounced his knee ever so slightly, almost like a tremble. You squirmed, trying to press your thighs closer together in hopes of stopping the heat growing in your stomach. One of Aemond’s large hands rests firmly against the small of your back. The other moves to grip the outside of your thigh.

“Aemond,” you gasp as you feel his lips grazing against our collarbones.

“What?” He asks, his voice so nonchalant.

“I think I should go,” you replied, trying to stand up.

But his hands hold onto you tight, refusing to let you go.

“Please stay,” he begged, burying his face into the curve of your neck once more.

“Alright,” you whisper, trying to calm him.

His hair tickles your nose. You lift your head a bit, resting your chin on the top of his head. You trail the tips of your fingers against the muscles of his back. Aemond nuzzles his face against your neck. He bounces his knee a bit harder. You wonder if he is doing this on purpose.

“Aemond, stop it,” you mumble, trying to ignore the fire sparking in the pit of your stomach.

“Stop what?” He asked, ghosting his lips over your jaw.

“You know what,” you whine.

He ignores you; his lips press soft kisses against your jaw. Aemond bunches the skirt of your dress into the hand that grips your thigh. He steadily inches it up higher. The cold air touching your now bare legs makes the hair on your body stand up. Suddenly coming to your senses, you gasp, slapping a hand over his as the skirt of your dress reaches just above your knees. He tries to continue, but you use all the strength you can muster to keep his hand still.

“We must stop,” you command, trying to stop yourself from giving in to him completely.

This was wrong. You were both betrothed to other people—him to some Baratheon girl and you to the Lord of the Arbor. They were political matches, as most marriages are. You held no love for Lord Redwyne, but you would do your duty as was expected of you.

Aemond easily pushed past your hand, slipping his hand between your thighs. You gasped, trying to squeeze them together to keep him at bay. Your stomach flutters as his thumb rubs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your fingernails dig into his forearm. You pull back, and he lifts his head to look you in the eyes.

He removes his hand from between your thighs, moving it up to your face. You find yourself melting into the warmth of his palm. The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lips, but his eye never leaves yours.

“You were supposed to be mine,” he says in the gentlest tone.

“Aemond,” you whine, trying to push him away.

But he refuses to let you go. The hand on your back kept you from standing. His fingertips trail down the side of your neck down to the neckline of your nightdress. His touch on your skin leaves you feeling almost delirious. The fire in your stomach is fully ablaze now. You squirm in his lap as his fingers graze over the tops of your breasts. You cursed yourself for this, as the feeling of his tense muscles sends waves of heat straight to your cunt. The hairs on the back of your neck raise. Your eyes close, and you bite your lip to stop crying out.

“Look at me.”

It is a command that you are unable to ignore. Aemond is the prince regent. In this moment, he speaks with the king’s voice. His absolute authority leaves you fearful and painfully aroused. Once again, your eyes meet his. He says nothing, simply watching you like a predator stalking its prey as his hand moves over your nightdress, cupping your breast. You gasp, slapping a hand over his. You know you should push him away, but you don’t.

A chill runs down your spine. Under his gaze, you feel completely exposed, almost powerless—a feeling you usually dislike greatly. You were a princess of the realm and a dragon rider. You were anything but helpless. Yet you find yourself wanting nothing more than to surrender yourself to him, to escape from your worries and sorrows, to be free from all the tiring expectations that have been placed upon you since your birth.

“Am I so hard to love?”

His voice trembled, as he struggled to hold back tears. The authority is gone, replaced with something much more vulnerable. The sight broke your heart in two. You had always worried about Aemond, your sweet, sensitive little brother. Since he had come of age, he had changed. He was colder and more distant, not just from you but from everyone, even your mother, whom you know he cared for greatly. It was like he believed he had to be this... pillar of strength, or all would crumble.

You remove your hand from his, moving it up to cup the scarred side of his face. You lean down, pressing a gentle kiss on his brow. You have done this so many times over the years, yet it has never felt as intimate as it did now. Aemond closed his eye, leaning into your touch. A sharp pain stabs at your heart as you watch how desperate he is for your comfort.

The hand on your breast slid back down to your thigh. Aemond’s fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt. Your thumb traced down the deep scar that marked his cheek. You lean down, peppering kisses from his cheek to his jaw, where the scar stops. He turns his head slightly, so that your lips hover above his, almost touching. You rest your head against his. His violet eye stared into your own.

“What of Floris? She is to be your wife.” You say, hoping he may come to his senses, as yours have fled from you completely.

“You will be my wife... for tonight.” A single tear drops from his eye as the words leave his lips.

It is such a beautiful, harrowing sight. One that leads you to shedding tears of your own. Aemond’s hands grip you by the waist, hoisting you up just enough for you to straddle him. Your knees rest on both sides of his legs, trapping him between your thighs. A wave of heat runs through your veins as your bare cunt presses against his clothed bulge. He leans forward, capturing your gasp with his mouth. One of your hands cups his face while the other pushes his hair away from his face.

The two of you shared passionate, frantic kisses. You had not been prepared from when Aemond’s tongue slid into your mouth. You whine, caught off guard, but do your best to follow along with him. You had no experience with such things. The only kisses you had ever experienced came from tall, handsome knights in your dreams. But even then, those kisses were nothing like this. They were short and sweet. A quick peck on the cheek or lips, but this was much different. Aemond kissed you with such urgency, such deep burning desire.

Aemond lifts his hips, pressing himself against you. The feeling of his hard cock pressing against your aching cunt makes you cry out, though your noises are muffled against his lips. The feeling is so foreign, yet exciting, that you can’t stop yourself from reaching down to palm him through his trousers. His hardened cock is thick and throbbing beneath your touch. A newfound confidence blooms in your chest.

A sound rumbled in his chest; his large hands gripped your ample hips. Your hands moved to grip his shoulders as you rocked yourself back and forth, your bare cunt grinding against his clothed bulge. He hissed, knitting his brows together. You watch as his face contorts into one of pleasure. Your own burning desire is growing too much. Your desperate, heavy breaths fill the air as you grind yourself against him even faster, desperate to reach your peak. He looked up at you; his mouth hung open slightly as he watched you use him for your own selfish gratification.

It’s exhilarating- him watching you- seeing you in a way no other ever has, touching you in a way no other ever has.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises.

His praise sends another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. The room suddenly feels unbearably hot. You’re so close; you can feel it. The pressure building up in your stomach is eager to be released. You roll your hips even faster, harder. But it is not enough. The throbbing in your cunt is almost painful. You are nearly sobbing at this point.

“I want more,” you whine. “I need more. Please, brother.”

“I am at your mercy, sister,” he smirks. “Take what you want.”

You reach down, huffing as you struggle to untie the laces of his trousers. You can feel his chest vibrate against you as he chuckles.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you grumble.

“My apologizes-” he shudders as your hand wraps around his thick cock. Finally freeing him from the confines of his trousers.

A triumphant smile crosses your face. You give his cock a few strokes, admiring the way it stands so prettily for you, so thick and full. Suddenly, you begin to fear the thought of having to fit it inside of you. Aemond seems to sense your worry. His hand cups the back of your neck, making you look at him.

“Take it slow,” he warns.

You nod, lifting yourself on your knees a bit. Your wetness coats your fingers and his cock as you press the tip into your aching cunt. You whine as the head breaches your walls, and you clamp tightly around him. The stretch is a bit uncomfortable but not painful. You may be a maiden, but you still had desires. Many nights, you have had to satiate your hunger with your fingers.

You lower yourself on him slowly. Thankfully, your wetness makes it easier to take him. You take a deep breath as you take him to the hilt. It takes you a moment to adjust to his size.

“Are you okay?” Aemond asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

“Yes, I just ... need a moment,” you breathlessly laugh as he lifts a hand to trail his fingers against your jaw.

He nods, raising his chin to kiss gently against the corner of your mouth. You turn your head, pressing your lips to his. A soft tongue gently licks at the swell of your bottom lip, and you grant him entry. The gentleness comes to an end. He licks into you with a fervor that steals your breath away. Your thoughts fade, and you melt into his arms.

Aemond kisses you like he wants to devour you, and you want nothing more. You lift your hips before lowering yourself. Aemond finally breaks the kiss, and his hands move to your waist.

“Ah-h,” he whines against the corner of your lips.

You begin to move slowly, easing yourself into up and down on his cock. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he presses his head to the back of the chair. His chest moves with his deep breaths, his eye is closed, and his mouth is partially open. He shudders, and a desperate, eager moan emits from his throat. It is a sight to behold.

He lifts his hips, pressing deeper into you, making you cry out.

“Aemond!” You whimper, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

His eye fluttered open as he watched you struggle to find the right pace. He gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your fleshy sides. He guided you, raising you up and down on him. The newfound pace made you mewl pathetically, but you were too desperate to reach your peak to care. He called out your name. It sounded almost sinful coming from his lips.

You drop your head, resting it against his. Your mouth hangs open as you gasp and moan. The faint scent of pine and smoke fills your nose. It’s him, his scent. The smell is almost intoxicating. Your mind is swimming, dizzy from the pleasure of him bucking up into you.

You feel one of his palms cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He lifts his chin, closing the small distance between you pressing his lips to yours. You try your best to follow the frantic rhythm he sets. He swallows every sound you make as he holds the back of your neck, refusing to let you pull away—not that you want to.

Aemond plants his feet on the ground for leverage as he pumps into you. His thrusts are more erratic now as he approaches his end. The air in your lungs is incinerated, and a shameful, high-pitched moan escapes from your lips. You move your hips, rocking against him, dangerously close to finally reaching your peak.

He doesn’t stop, bucking into you with a force that would be strong enough to toss you off of him if not for the hand holding onto your waist. Your hot cunt clenched around him, the muscles in your legs burned from remaining in this position for so long.

It’s not fair- how good he is at this- how good he is making you feel. It’s all too much. Your poor wet cunt is overwhelmed with pleasure. The hand on your neck moves down, and the pad of his thumb rubs circles around that sensitive button between your legs.

“That's it,” he coaxed, his hot breath fans on your mouth. “Let go, give it to me.”

You don’t stand a chance. Not when his cock makes you feel so full, reaching that one spot that makes you throw your head back. One of your hands tangles in his hair, tugging. Your chests’ are flushed against each other as you both rock against each other. You clench around his cock as you finally reach your release, hard and blinding. The world around you seems to disappear. It’s only you and him who matter.

“Ha-ah ... ah,” he sputtered, becoming more desperate.

You cry out as you fill his hot mouth, which latches into one of your breasts. He suckles at your breast like a starving babe. His tongue lashes back and forth around your hardened nipple. The sensation is strange but has you clenching around him even tighter.

His teeth graze against your nipple. Every grunt and moan that leaves him vibrates against your breast. You can feel his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. His cock pulses inside of you, it feels too good. Aemond releases your nipple, resting his forehead on your breast. Choked gasps and grunts slip past his lips as he reaches his peak, releasing inside of you, filling you with his seed.

The two of you stay pressed against each other as you come down for your highs. Aemond’s hips relax, his body melting into the chair. Your body sinks into him, boneless and spent. You lay your head on his shoulder, resting your chin on his collarbone. His fingertips trail over the curve of your back. Your eyes feel heavy as you struggle to keep them open.

“I am sorry for what I’ve done,” he apologized.

“I know,” you reply weakly.

You can feel his warm breath against your ear. His scent, mixed with his sweat, fills your nose, bringing you comfort.

“Our sister has too much of our mother in her. I see that now.”

You frown but say nothing, letting him continue. His lips press against your ear. He nudges your face with his shoulder, making you pull away. He grasps your chin between his thumb and index fingers. Your eyes flicker between the sapphire and his violet iris. You lift a hand to trail your fingers along his sharp jaw.

“But you and I,” he says, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “We are two flames kindled from the same fire. We were always meant to burn as one.”

“Aemond,” you sigh.

“I am afraid,” he admits, rendering you speechless. “I cannot fight this war alone, sister.”

“You are not alone,” you argued. “You have Daeron.”

“Tsk,” he turns his head. “He is still young, as is his dragon.”

“Young or not, Tessarion is still a dragon.”

Aemond says nothing. His eye stared at the plain stone wall of his bedchamber. You watch him silently, trying to read him.

“Come with me,” he asked, turning his head back to you.

“What?” You gasp.

“Mount your dragon and go with me to Harrenhal.”

“Mother would never allow it,” you shake your head.

“Our mother has made it clear that she does not hold our best interest at heart.”

“She means well,” you protested, trying to defend your mother, no matter how true his words seemed.

“If we do not fight, we will die. Rhaenyra may spare you and Helaena, but she will not be so merciful to the rest of us. She will have to take Aegon’s head, mine, and Daerons's as well. So long as our father has a living son, she will never be able to rule in peace.”

“You don’t know that-”

“I do,” he insisted. “Is that not what our mother has told us our entire lives?”

You blink, and memories of your childhood flood your mind. He was right. Over the years, your mother had repeatedly stressed the dangers that would follow should your sister ascend to the throne.

“Come with me,” he whispered.

Your eyes flickered from his trembling lips to his tear-filled eye. It was not an order but a plea. He was afraid and desperate for aid. You were afraid as well—you had been since Ser Criston placed that crown upon Aegon’s head. It has only been a few weeks, and already, your life has been turned completely upside down.

You had no desire to fight this war. Many times, you have had to stop yourself from climbing on your dragon and leaving. But you could not abandon your family, just as you could not abandon Aemond now.

You nod your head. He smiled, a look of relief crossing his face. One of his hands finds yours, lacing your fingers together before bringing his lips to yours, giving you one last sweet and adoring kiss. Once he pulls away, you lay your head back down on his shoulder.

“Can I go to sleep now?” You mumble against his skin.

“Yes,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “You can sleep now.”

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winterarmyy · 7 months ago

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He Hates Me, Doesn't He?

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: You hurt Bucky's girl, and now he hates you.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 6.7k++

Warnings: angstyyyyyyyyy, but with happy ending because I cannot live in agony. miscommunication galore. 'I want to strangle bucky's girlfriend.' soft reader, cold/mean bucky. bucky should've grovel more. horrible attempt of writing verbal arguments. nothing much but pain.

Inspiration: I remember reading a bucky fic years ago and I like the pain that it caused me to feel. Idk why the pain suddenly came back to me lately. So, this is my take on the same idea. I haven't able to find it. But when I do, I'll reblog it in my another acc!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

y/n had always been a steady presence in the Avengers, known for her gentle demeanour and unwavering support. Her relationship with Bucky Barnes had blossomed from a quiet friendship into something deeper. When they first met, Bucky was reserved and hesitant, still grappling with his past as the Winter Soldier. y/n, with her gentle nature and patient understanding, slowly helped him come out of his shell.

She remembered the sleepless nights they spent together when they were on the run with Steve and Sam. They'd share stories, and sometimes just sit in silence, her quiet company offering solace to Bucky's restless mind. The unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day. Bucky looked up to her, finding comfort in her presence, and in turn, he became fiercely protective of her. They'd watch each other's backs during missions, their synergy on the battlefield a testament to their deep connection.

And somewhere along the line, she fell for him. She had fallen for Bucky's resilience and vulnerability, though she never expected more, knowing that a relationship was not what he needed right now. At least, that's what she thought. Little did she know, Bucky had always loved her; ever since the day she offered him tea the first night they were on the run to Wakanda. Maybe she was just simply aloof, or maybe Bucky’s flirting skills weren’t translated the way he wanted, but they never crossed the line between friendship and ‘something more’.

Then when Jen came into the picture, it felt like things started to change. Jen was bold and confident, and it wasn't long before she caught Bucky's eye. Their relationship seemed to spring up overnight, and y/n, though hurt, tried to be happy for Bucky. Jen was supportive and caring, or so it seemed, and Bucky deserved happiness.

Now, as planned the team was instructed to moved into the Avenger compound for a few months to train new recruits. It had only been the first month but surely it was jam packed with endless of rigorous training sessions. The original team—y/n, Sam, Bucky, Jen, Clint, and his mentee Kate Bishop—were all assigned to train the new recruits, with additional of few agents from different branches coming in to help out.

y/n was heading to the training room; she knew it was way too early but she thought that if she didn’t get out of bed now, she might not even get up at all. To her surprise, she was not the first one. She saw a few new trainees were already on the way to the training room; some of them greeted her a good morning. She simply smiled at their enthusiasm.

The moment she entered the area, she overheard voices coming from the corner of the room. She paused, recognizing Jen's voice, which was raised and laced with contempt. Curiosity piqued, y/n stepped closer, staying just out of sight behind the white board. In hindsight, it might seem weird that she was sneaking around to eavesdrop on Jen, but she couldn't help it.

Initially, y/n liked Jen. She tried to welcome her into their tight-knit group and even supported her relationship with Bucky. However, as time went on, Jen began acting strange. The things she said about Bucky sometimes sounded condescending. She would make comments like, "It's amazing how well he's adjusted, considering his past," or, "It's great that he's trying so hard to be normal." The way she acted often differed from her words, with Jen giving Bucky disapproving glances or sighing heavily whenever he mentioned something from his troubled past.

She had noticed these discrepancies and started to feel uneasy around Jen. She couldn't shake the feeling that Jen’s support was just a facade. Now, standing behind the whiteboard, she strained to hear the conversation.

"…and honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can trust him," Jen was saying. "I mean, sure, he's got that whole 'reformed hero' thing going on now, but let’s be real. He was Hydra’s pet assassin for decades. The things he’s done? It’s unforgivable."

Her friend, another agent from a different branch, nodded hesitantly. "But you’re dating him, aren’t you? Doesn’t that mean you trust him?"

Jen laughed, a cold, humourless sound. "Dating him? Please. I’m in it for the fame and the perks. Have you seen the way people look at us? Besides, he’s hot, I’ll give him that. But trust him? Never. People like him don’t change. They’re broken. He's a monster, and he always will be. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps again."

y/n felt a surge of anger rise within her. How dare Jen talk about Bucky like that?

Memories flooded her mind, flashing back to Bucky’s nightmare-plagued nights. She remembered the prominent dark circles under his eyes, the haunted look that never quite left his face. The silent pain he endured, adjusting to a modern world where he felt like an outsider, magnified when Steve left. She could still see the wary, suspicious glances people cast in his direction, the whispers behind his back when they first ventured out. Before the fame he acquired as he regained his reputation after the Flag-Smasher incident.

She had witnessed his hardships firsthand—the nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat, the moments of crippling doubt and self-loathing. But she had also seen his triumphs, the small victories that slowly built his confidence. The first time he laughed freely in her presence, the genuine smile that lit up his face when he finally allowed himself to relax. She cherished those moments, the sunshine that broke through the clouds of his tortured past.

All of this came rushing back, breaking the chains on the Pandora's box inside of her. The fury she felt wasn't just for the disrespect to Bucky; it was for every ounce of pain he had suffered, every moment of joy he had fought so hard to reclaim. Her eyes hardened with resolve as she stepped forward, her voice steady but cold. "Take that back," she demanded, her presence startling both Jen and her friend.

Jen turned slowly, a smirk spreading across her face as she saw y/n. She knew from the beginning about the cute little crush y/n had on Bucky. To be frank, everybody sort of knew about it, except for Bucky somehow.

"Or else what, y/n?" she replied with a mocking tone. "You’re quite pathetic aren’t you? You think that I can’t see how you’ve been eye-fucking my boyfriend all this time? Come on, now. Backing him up would not give you a leeway into his pants, y/n."

y/n’s face went through a range of emotions—shock, embarrassment, and then seething anger. Jen’s words were like poison, each one landing like a punch to the gut.

Jen continued, confidence oozing out of her cocky demeanor, "Besides, we all know that I can easily beat you in a fight, doll"

The use of doll—a nickname Bucky had given y/n from day one, when Steve had quite literally kidnapped Bucky from the government—made y/n blood boil. Hearing it from Jen felt like a personal attack, a deliberate attempt to undermine everything she shared with Bucky.

And it was true that Jen had graduated top of her batch from the Avengers program and had countless successful missions under her belt, but y/n knew this wasn't about accolades or abilities. This was about something deeper, something more personal.

y/n clenched her fists, taking a step closer. "You think this is about who can fight better?" she said, her voice shaking with restrained fury. "This is about respect. You don’t get to talk about Bucky like that."

Jen scoffed, a cruel smile on her lips. "Respect? For that monster? You’re delusional. He’s a ticking time bomb, a liability to the team. And deep down, everyone knows it."

y/n’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, she slapped Jen hard across the face, the sound echoing through the room. Jen stumbled and fell to the ground, shock and anger flashing across her features.

She stalks forward like a predator cornering its prey, "I’m just done with your lies and your insults. Bucky deserves better than you." Jen instinctively crawled backwards towards the centre of the room. Seeing that she got the attention of the few new recruits she regained her composure, smirked again, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "You’re pathetic, y/n," she taunted. "Defending a lost cause." her voice was loud enough for y/n to hear but quiet enough that the others might not be able to decipher her words.

At that moment, Bucky and Sam burst into the room, followed closely behind by a new recruit who alerted them of the incident. Bucky’s eyes widened as he took in the scene—Jen on the ground, y/n standing over her, shaking with rage. "What’s going on here?" His demand was completely ignored as y/n’s mind was hyper-focused on the wrath bubbling within her.

"Get up," y/n demanded, her voice shaking with wrath. Bucky’s momentarily froze as he watched the confrontation escalate before him. y/n, usually so composed, was now a whirlwind of rage, her eyes blazing as she stood over a trembling Jen. Bucky had always known her to be fierce in battle, but this was different—this was raw, unbridled anger. "I'm going to make you regret every word you said. So get on your fucking feet before I rip it off you.."

Jen, still on the ground, looked up at y/n with wide, teary eyes, playing the role of the victim to perfection. "Please, I didn't– I don’t know what you're…," she whimpered, casting a fearful glance at Bucky and Sam, who had just arrived on the scene.

Bucky's mind raced. Why was she doing this? He stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "y/n, hey!" he shouted, his voice a mix of confusion and anger. "What are you doing?"

Completely ignoring him, "Get up," y/n snarled, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Get up and fight me. I’ll show you who the real monster is." Jen looked up, her hand on her cheek, disbelief mingling with her fury. "You’re crazy," she spat, scrambling to her feet.

Her response was only a furious shout. "I said, get up!"

"y/n, are you crazy?!" Bucky yelled, moving quickly to intervene. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and unforgiving.

She turned her fierce gaze towards Bucky; her expression momentarily faltering at the hurt in his eyes. "Bucky, you don’t understand, she--" she began, but the words caught in her throat as she saw Jen's smirk flicker for just a second.

"There's nothing to understand," Bucky snapped. "You’re acting insane."

y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt and frustration. "Bucky, you have to listen—"

But he cut her off, his expression hard. "I don’t care! You hurt her, y/n. You think I don’t see that bruise on her cheek?!" Bucky shouted, his face contorted with anger. His eyes, usually filled with a gentle warmth when he looked at y/n, were now blazing with fury. "This isn’t like you, y/n. I’ve noticed that you’ve never liked Jen, and I don’t know why. But this? This is just immature and reckless." His metal grip on y/n's wrist was tighter than he intended. She winced, her eyes watering not just from the pain but from the sting of his words.

y/n had never seen Bucky like this. His anger was palpable, radiating off him in waves. It was like being hit with a physical force, and she felt her heart breaking under the weight of it. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her anger flaring even hotter. "Bucky, you don’t understand," she tried to explain, but the words caught in her throat.

Bucky’s expression remained hard, the force on her wrist tightening painfully. "You need to grow up, y/n," he seethed, his disappointment evident in his tone. "You're always causing drama lately, and it needs to stop. Jen’s been there for me in ways you haven’t, and I won’t tolerate you attacking her like this."

The words cut through her like a knife. Her heart shattered at his harshness, at the realization that Bucky thought so little of her. She yanked her wrist free, feeling the sting of his grip lingering. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Believe what you want."

Without another word, she turned and stormed out, leaving Bucky standing there, torn between confusion and guilt.

A gnawing sense of remorse tugging at him, but he couldn't shake the confusion and anger clouding his mind. "Jen, are you okay?" he asked, helping her to her feet.

Jen, tucking herself to his side, managed to summon a few tears, looking up at Bucky with a feigned innocence. "I don’t know why she hates me so much," she murmured, playing her part perfectly.

Bucky fingers softly traces on her wounded cheek before his gaze switched to y/n’s retreating form, a knot tightening in his chest. He wasn’t sure why those mean words had spouted out of his lips. Was it because he saw Jen injured on the ground and his protective instincts kicked in? Or was it because Jen had been whispering doubts in his ear about y/n’s loyalty, making him question his longtime friend?

The truth was, Bucky had always relied on y/n’s unwavering support. She had been his rock through the toughest times, and seeing her so furious, so hurt, shook him to his core. Yet, in the heat of the moment, he had lashed out, unable to reconcile the image of Jen crying with the fierce anger that radiated from y/n.

As Bucky comforted Jen, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He couldn't shake the image of hurt on her face, nor could he ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

On the side, Sam was only able to watch the scene play out silently, a frown creasing his brow. He had a feeling there was more to this story, and he intended to get to the bottom of it.

As weeks passed, the rift between Bucky and y/n deepened, fueled by Jen's cunning manipulation. In a private conversation, Jen planted seeds of doubt in Bucky's mind, suggesting that y/n harboured hidden resentments and intentions.

"I hate to say it, Bucky, but maybe she's not who we thought she was," Jen insinuated, her voice dripping with false concern. "Maybe she's been hiding her true feelings all along, waiting for the right moment to strike."

Bucky, already vulnerable and confused after the incident in the training room, absorbed Jen's words like poison, allowing them to fester and take root in his mind. He began to view y/n through a new lens, one tainted by suspicion and distrust. This single conversation, filled with subtle manipulations and insidious suggestions, was all it took to fracture the bond between Bucky and y/n, leaving Bucky cold and distant towards the one person who had always stood by his side.

Most days he would avoid eye contact with her during team meetings, barely acknowledging her presence when they were forced to interact. In training sessions, his instructions to her were curt and clipped, lacking the warmth and camaraderie they once shared. y/n felt each of these interactions like a stab to the heart.

She couldn't understand how quickly Bucky had turned against her, how easily he had accepted Jen's version of events without even giving her a chance to explain. The hurt festered inside her, eating away at her sense of self-worth.

Then one night, as y/n sat alone on the rooftop, staring out into the darkness, Sam found her there. He knew this was where she retreated when she needed space to think, to process her emotions. He approached her cautiously, sitting down beside her without a word.

"Why aren't you at dinner, y/n?" Sam finally asked, breaking the silence. He could see the emptiness in her eyes, the weight of her sorrow pressing down on her.

She shook her head, her voice hollow. "Lost my appetite," she muttered, her gaze still fixed on the horizon.

Sam gently prodded, knowing there was more to her withdrawal than just a lack of hunger. "Is it because of what happened the other day at the training room?" he asked softly.

Instantly, her demeanor shifted. Anger flared in her eyes, directed not just at Jen and Bucky, but at the entire situation. "I don't want to talk about it, Sam," she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. But Sam wasn't one to give up easily, especially when he knew how much y/n was hurting. "Come on, y/n," he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. "You can't keep bottling this up. Talk to me."

Her expression softened slightly at Sam's persistence, but the pain still lingered in her eyes. "Seriously, Sam, please just drop it," she pleaded, her voice wavering with emotion.

Sam could see the cracks forming in her facade, the vulnerability seeping through the tough exterior she usually projected. Without a word, he pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting her bury her face against his shoulder.

As she clung to him, her facade finally crumbled. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "He hates me, doesn't he?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbreak. "Bucky hates me."

Sam held her tighter, offering silent comfort as she grappled with the weight of her sorrow. He knew there were no easy answers, no quick fixes to mend the shattered pieces of y/n's heart. But in that moment, all he could do was be there for her, a steady anchor in the storm of her emotions.

The dim glow of the kitchen's overhead light provided a faint sense of solace in the otherwise silent darkness of the compound. Bucky sat at the wooden table, his tired eyes staring blankly at the cup of untouched tea before him. It was a nightly ritual lately, this dance with sleeplessness and the haunting memories that lurked in the shadows of his mind yet again.

Footsteps broke the stillness, and Bucky's gaze shifted to the entrance of the kitchen. y/n stood hesitantly in the doorway, her presence casting a tentative aura over the room. There was a palpable tension between them, an unspoken weight that hung heavy in the air.

She cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Mind if I join you?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She was expecting Bucky to ignore her completely but he didn’t; Bucky simply shrugged nonchalantly, his guard seemed to flatter. "Suit yourself," he muttered.

As she quietly took a seat opposite him, a heavy silence settled between them. Bucky's thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions, each one vying for dominance over the others. His guard seemed to falter in the presence of her tentative yet comforting aura. The weight of his own vulnerability loomed large in his mind, drowning out the anger he had harboured towards her.

As the silence stretched between them, she felt a surge of compassion wash over her. She knew why he was awake at this time. She knew that the tea he brewed was to help him sleep. She was the one who planted that habit to him after all.

And despite everything that had transpired between them, she couldn't bear to see Bucky suffer alone. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she decided to reach out to him, to offer what little comfort she could.

Without a word, y/n rose from her seat and moved to stand behind Bucky's chair. He stiffened at her touch, his muscles tense with apprehension. But as her gentle hands began to massage the tension from his neck, a wave of unexpected relief washed over him.

Her touch was soft and comforting, a stark contrast to the coldness he had grown accustomed to due to Jen’s unwillingness to acknowledge this side of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, coaxing him to relax, to let go of the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, Bucky allowed himself to forget the walls he had built around his heart. In her presence, her voice, and her touch; he felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of warmth that he had long since forgotten.

But then, like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a fragile flame, the weight of Jen's words came crashing back down upon him. Anger flared within him, hot and fierce, directed not only at y/n but at himself for allowing his heart to yearn for her.

He pushed himself away from the table, his movements sharp and abrupt. "I don't need your pity, y/n," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "Just leave me alone."

With that, he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving y/n alone in the suffocating silence.The disbelief that clouded her thoughts gave way to a searing agony that twisted in her chest. How could he say such things? How could he push her away so callously, after everything they had shared?

y/n buried her face in her hands, her body trembling with the force of her sobs. The weight of her shattered dreams pressed down on her, crushing her spirit beneath its merciless grip. She had never felt so alone, so utterly abandoned by the one person she had trusted above all others.

The pain of losing Bucky, of losing the love that had sustained her through the darkest of times, threatened to consume her whole. Each breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled her soul.

In that moment of crushing despair, she couldn't help but believe that Bucky truly hated her. The thought tore through her like a knife, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that no amount of time or distance could ever hope to heal.

As she sat alone in the suffocating silence of the kitchen, y/n felt the full weight of her heartbreak descend upon her like a tidal wave. She was lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, drowning in the agony of losing someone she had loved so deeply, so completely. And in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find her way back to the surface again.

Unbeknownst to her, Bucky lingered just out of sight, his heart heavy with guilt. He wanted to go back, to take back his harsh words and hold her close, to chase away the tears that stained her cheeks. But the poison in his mind was too strong, clouding his judgement and trapping him in a cycle of self-destructive despair. And so, with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to cry alone in the darkness.

The mission had already been tense enough, but as y/n found herself face to face with Jen in a location she wasn't supposed to be, the atmosphere crackled with an added layer of hostility. It was as if fate had conspired to place them in this confrontation, and her jaw clenched involuntarily as she braced herself for what was to come.

Jen's presence in that spot was no coincidence, and she knew it. Her suspicions were confirmed as Jen turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips, a gleam of malice in her eyes. y/n's grip tightened on her weapon, her pulse quickening as she prepared for the verbal assault she knew was coming.

"How does it feel, knowing that Bucky hates you now?" Jen's words sliced through the air like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of y/n’s deepest fears. It was a direct hit, striking at the core of her insecurities, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath her feet.

But she refused to let Jen see her falter. With a steely resolve, she squared her shoulders and met Jen's gaze head-on, her expression a mask of defiance. She may have been shaken by Jen's words, but she refused to let them break her.

Ignoring the taunts, she focused on the mission at hand, determined to prove her worth despite Jen's attempts to undermine her. But with each passing moment, the weight of Jen's words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over y/n’s every move.

It was a battle on two fronts – against the enemy they faced together, and against the doubts that threatened to consume her from within. But she refused to back down, drawing strength from the knowledge that she fought not just for herself, but for the team she believed in with all her heart.

But Jen's relentless barrage of insults made it difficult to concentrate, her words like daggers slicing through y/n’s defenses.

"Aww come on y/n, bet you’re reeling in the loss right now, aren’t you." Jen continued, her voice ice cold. "The Asset’s little lapdog, clinging to him like a lost puppy."

y/n’s temper flared at the insult, her grip tightening on her weapon as she fought to keep her emotions in check. But Jen's mocking laughter only fueled the fire burning within her, pushing her to the brink of her patience. "Shut your mouth, Jen," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Or I swear to God, I'll make sure that the team finds your body disassembled in one of these rooms."

Jen simply rolled her eyes, unfazed by her threat. "You love him that much, huh?" y/n had no intention to deny that fact; she does love him, "More than you ever could." her voice was firm and true. Jen’s smirk fell as she scoffed. "Ain't that cute, the Winter Soldier and his little psycho sweetheart."

Before y/n could respond, a voice cut through the tension like a knife, freezing her in place. It was Bucky, his expression dark and stormy as he stepped into view. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he took in the scene before him.

y/n’s heart sank as she realized that Bucky might have heard everything. She turned around to meet his eyes and his face confirmed her suspicion; he heard it. Bucky had heard everything – every taunt, every insult, every word exchanged between her and Jen; even the confession of her true feelings. She met his gaze; searching for some sign of understanding of his emotions and the little that she saw was: disappointment, betrayal and guilt, mirrored back at her in the depths of his stormy blue eyes.

In that moment, all she wanted to do was pull him into her arms, to pull him away from all the painful memories and hurtful words; so far away that he would forget he had ever been taunted, betrayed, or made to feel less than he was.

Before she could utter a word, let alone take a step towards him, Jen's voice broke through, but it lacked the usual confidence. "Bucky, it's not what you think," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between Bucky and y/n. "I-I was just..."

y/n’s clenched her jaw, her patience wearing thin as Jen stumbled over her words, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. She could see the confusion and hurt in Bucky's eyes, a reflection of the turmoil raging within her own heart.

"I-I mean," Jen continued, her voice faltering. "I was...um...just trying to...uh..."

But her feeble attempts to justify her actions only served to further incense Bucky. His brow furrowed in anger, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to make sense of the situation.

"Enough," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want to hear any more lies."

y/n’s heart ached as she watched Bucky's expression darken with anger and disappointment. She wanted to explain, to tell him the truth about Jen's betrayal and her own misguided attempt to defend him. But the words caught in her throat, choked by the weight of her guilt and regret.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky turned away, his shoulders slumped with defeat. "Let's just finish the mission," he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We'll deal with this later."

As he was about to walk away, y/n noticed a red dot on his chest, the unmistakable mark of a sniper's laser sight. Without thinking twice, she leaped towards him, her body acting as a human shield. Time seemed to slow down as she collided with Bucky, pushing him out of the way.

"y/n, no!" Bucky shouted, his voice filled with panic as her body slumped against his chest.

In the chaos, Jen was nowhere to be seen. She had slipped away, taking shelter and ultimately fleeing the area as she heard multiple footsteps approaching.

Bucky tried to pull up his gun, but it was too late. An array of bullets rained down on them. He felt the searing pain of a few shots piercing his own flesh, but it was nothing compared to the sight of y/n’s body being riddled with bullets. She was hit in the shoulder, wrist, thighs, and other places Bucky couldn't even register.

Rage surged through Bucky like an inferno, obliterating any semblance of restraint. He moved with a deadly precision, his eyes blazing with fury as he unleashed a storm of bullets on the enemy. His movements were swift and unforgiving, every shot finding its mark with brutal accuracy. The enemy fell one by one, their bodies collapsing in lifeless heaps. The air was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire and the acrid smell of gunpowder, but Bucky's focus was unyielding.

Within moments, the room was cleared, the enemies wiped out in a flurry of rage-fueled vengeance.

The adrenaline ebbed away, leaving Bucky standing amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. He turned, and his eyes fell on y/n's crumpled form. The sight of her lying in a pool of her own blood shattered his rage, replacing it with a crushing wave of worry and panic.

"Hang in there. Please," Bucky hastily spoke, his voice trembling. He activated his com line, desperation seeping into his tone. "Guys, we need help. y/n... she's... she's been shot. We need to get out of here right now!" Panic coursed through him as he turned his attention back to y/n, frantically trying to stop the bleeding on her stomach. "y/n, doll…please" he pleaded, watching her hazy gaze. "Don't you dare give up on me now. Come on."

"babydoll, stay with me!" Bucky cried, his voice breaking as he cradled her in his arms. Blood soaked through her clothes, staining his hands. "Please, hang on, you can’t leave yet. I haven't told you... I haven't—"

Her eyes fluttered open, her breathing shallow and ragged. "It's okay, Bucky," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos. "It's okay. Don't cry." Her shaking hands struggled to move, and with great effort, she managed to cup Bucky's cheek. The gesture was weak but filled with tenderness. "It's okay," she repeated, her fingers trembling against his skin.

"Don't talk like that," Bucky choked out, his own tears mingling with the blood on his face. "You can't.. I haven't told you...please doll..." His voice wavered with the weight of unspoken words and unconfessed feelings. He hadn't told her how much he truly cared for her, how every moment spent away from her felt like an eternity. He hadn't begged for forgiveness for his coldness, his mistakes, and for letting Jen's poison taint his actions. The guilt gnawed at him, each heartbeat a reminder of the words he hadn't said, the emotions he hadn't expressed.

He pressed her hand harder against his cheek, feeling the warmth of her touch anchoring him in the moment.Her hand weakly brushing against his cheek. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured. "I know."

Bucky's heart shattered as he clung to her, feeling her life slipping away. "No, no, no," he muttered desperately. "You can't leave me. Please, y/n. Please."

She smiled faintly, her eyes closing. "I'm here, Bucky. I'm right here."

With a final, shuddering breath, y/n’s consciousness slipped away. Bucky felt a surge of panic, but he knew he had to move. He lifted her limp body, cradling her against his chest as he ran towards the quinjet. Each step was agony, his own injuries slowing him down, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting y/n to safety.

"Hang on, y/n," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Hang on. I won't let you go."

In the sterile environment of the medical bay, y/n lay unconscious, her body hooked up to various machines that monitored her vital signs. Bucky sat by her bedside, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. Every beep of the monitor seemed to echo through the silence, a haunting reminder of her fragile state. He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing her bandaged wrist.

Memories of their time together flooded Bucky's mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the connection they shared. He remembered the laughter they had shared, the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. He remembered the gentle touch of her hand, the warmth of her smile that never failed to chase away the darkness.

But amidst the memories, there was also pain – the pain of their last conversation, the words left unsaid and the choices left unmade. Bucky's throat tightened as he recalled the day he had walked away from Jen, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths.

His voice was cold and final. "You almost got her killed, Jen," he had said, his eyes blazing with anger. "Stay away from us. Stay away from me."

Jen's eyes had flashed with anger, her words cutting like knives as she lashed out in frustration. "And what, you think you'll find someone better than me?" she had spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Good luck with that, Bucky. You'll never find anyone who would put up with your baggage."

But Bucky had remained resolute, his decision fueled by a sense of longing and regret that threatened to consume him whole. "Maybe not," he had admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'd rather be alone than with someone who doesn't truly care about me."

Now, as Bucky sat by y/n’s bedside, the weight of his decision bore down on him like a crushing weight. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers trembling with emotion.

"I'm so sorry, babydoll," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I never meant for any of this to happen. So, please, wake up. I need you."

But y/n remained unconscious, her breathing shallow and weak as she lay before him. And as Bucky watched over her, his heart heavy with worry and regret, he vowed to do whatever it took to bring her back to him, to keep her safe from harm for all eternity.

For in that moment, Bucky realized that he couldn't bear to lose her – not now, not ever. She was his rock, his anchor in a world of uncertainty and pain. And as he held her hand tightly in his own, he prayed with all his heart that she would find her way back to him, to the love and light that had always guided them through the darkness.

The soft hum of machines filled the air as y/n stirred awake, her senses slowly coming back to her. She blinked, disoriented at first, until her gaze fell upon Bucky, who was sleeping soundly in the chair beside her bed. His hands were clasped tightly around hers, his face peaceful in slumber, but she couldn't help but notice the tear stains on his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines etched into his forehead.

"How long has it been since?" she wondered to herself, her heart aching at the sight of Bucky's exhausted form. She carefully sat up, trying not to disturb him as she lovingly examined his sleeping face. She couldn't help but smile as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through her fingertips.

Bucky groaned as his sleep was interrupted, muttering something about Sam needs to leave him be; before he abruptly sat up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hi there," y/n greeted softly, her eyes sparkling with affection as she watched Bucky's reaction.

For a moment, Bucky seemed unable to comprehend that she was finally awake. His eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. But then the realization hit him, and he threw himself at her, wrapping her in a tight embrace as if she were the most precious thing in the world .Despite the pain that shot through her body, she managed to let out a soft chuckle, returning his embrace with equal fervor. The warmth of his embrace chased away the lingering chill of unconsciousness, and for a moment, everything felt right.

"y/n..." Bucky breathed into her neck, his voice trembling with emotion. She hummed in response, her heart swelling for him. "Hmmm?"

Not wanting to let go of her, Bucky called her name once again, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "y/n-..." She paused, her lips curving into a tender smile as she whispered in his ear, "Yes, Bucky?"

Bucky tightened his grip, his breath hitching in his throat as he buried his face in her shoulder. y/n gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "I'm here, sweetheart." The scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth against him—it all felt overwhelming. Emotions churned inside him like a tempest. Relief, guilt, love, and fear battled for dominance, leaving him raw and exposed.

She gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "Bucky, I'm not going anywhere.

Bucky's mind raced, images of the past few weeks flashing before his eyes. He remembered the coldness with which he'd treated her, the cruel words that had slipped from his lips, fueled by Jen's poison. He thought of the sleepless nights, the nightmares that had gripped him, and the aching void he'd felt every time he saw y/n’s hurt expression.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "For everything. For not believing you. For pushing you away."

Reluctantly, she pulled away, but not before wiping the tears from Bucky's cheeks and fighting the urge to place a tender kiss on his forehead. As she looked into his eyes, she could see the depth of his love and the pain he had endured for her sake. And in that moment, she knew that she had found her home in his arms. Bucky took her hands in his own, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to her wounded wrists. "This will never happen again. Ever," he vowed, his voice filled with determination.

Moved by his words, y/n felt her heart flutter with emotion. She realized in that moment that she could never stay angry at him, no matter what had transpired between them. She understood now that they were both at fault, both victims of circumstance and misunderstanding.

With a surge of courage, she reached out and pulled Bucky into a kiss. Her lips met his in a slow, passionate embrace, pouring all of her love and forgiveness into the tender gesture. It was a moment of connection, of healing, of reaffirming their bond despite the trials they had faced.

The taste of Bucky's lips was like a soothing salve to her soul; it was intoxicating. It felt as if the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's arms. When they finally broke apart, Bucky whispered those three words that y/n had longed to hear, "I love you."

Her heart soared with joy, and she couldn't help but tease him, "Took you long enough." her teasing words met with a cheeky grin from Bucky. "I love you too, Bucky" she blinked slowly. As he whispered softly under his breath, "Come here," he pulled her back into the kiss, their lips meeting in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of their unspoken love. And in that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their world, they found solace in each other's arms, knowing that together, they could weather any storm.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I just needed to let this out lmao. It's been stuck in my head for several weeks. Thank you for spending your time reading this crap... honestly. Love you so much 🤍

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #tfatws!bucky #bucky angst #bucky fluff

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mahgyu · 11 months ago

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Thinking about Toji, who only realizes what he truly feels for you when he sees you happy with someone else.

Toji used to tell himself that you were just another woman he used for sex and nothing more. However, weeks turned into months, and even though he kept saying that you weren't anything special in his life, the situation was actually completely different.

You already spent more time in his small apartment than in your own. When he woke up in the morning, it wasn't with Megumi poking and asking him to prepare breakfast anymore because you promptly woke up before to do it. You did so much for them and never expected anything in return.

Speaking of Megumi, he also began to develop a strong bond with you. You always played together, watched movies, and you even helped with homework when you could. Megumi always looked at you with admiration, as if you were the mother figure he didn't even realize he needed. Toji might have displayed the facade of an unshakable man, but deep down, only he knew how much witnessing these domestic moments affected him.

But, in a way, Toji felt inadequate for you. He was just a troubled single father trying to stay alive, with a questionable job and a life that felt more like a rollercoaster. He looked at you and saw an incredible woman, full of life and potential, while he saw himself as someone who would only hold you back. You deserved more than just sex and a miserable life beside him.

Toji tried to end things by acting like a bad guy, a personality he always portrays to everyone but never before to you, behaving like a jerk so that you would hate him and feel nothing for him but contempt. He was cold, distant, and even cruel in his words. He knew he was hurting you, but it was the simplest way out.

He saw the pain in your eyes when you finally accepted his words and distanced yourself, leaving him alone with his regret and loneliness. Deep down, he hoped you would find someone better, someone who could give you everything he couldn't.

But as time passed, the pain of separation only grew in Toji. He tried to fill the void with more work, giving more attention to Megumi — who didn't make things easier by constantly asking why you had abandoned them. He even sought out other women for sexual satisfaction, but it didn't help. They weren't you; nothing could take you out of Toji's mind. He constantly wondered if he had made the right choice, if he had done what was best for both.

Months later, Toji saw you from afar, leaving a coffee shop, happy with another man. In one hand, a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and beside you, a well-dressed man, with neatly combed blond hair and a serene expression on his face as he briefly sealed his lips on yours. Toji's heart clenched in a way he had never felt before, seeing you smiling and radiant beside someone else made Toji realize how foolish he had been. He realized he had let slip away the best thing that had ever happened to him, all because of stubbornness and egocentrism.

At that moment, Toji realized that you were everything he had ever wanted, and that he had made the biggest mistake of his life by letting you go. He wished he could turn back time and fix his choices, but he knew he couldn't. All that was left for him was regret and the memory of the love he let slip away. He would never forgive himself.

I'll give a gift to whoever can guess who the other man I described at the end is ᵔ⤙ᵔ

I haven't fixed it yet so sorry for any mistakes.

ㅤㅤㅤ

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fangswbenefits · 1 year ago

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The Arrangement (10) - A New Way

Chapter summary: Astarion always find a way back to you even in the midst of all the chaos.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Sexual frustration. Jealous Astarion. Protective Astarion. Fingering. Masturbation. Cumplay. Innuendo. Body worship.

Word count: 7.3k

Author's note: Tumblr isn't allowing me to reply to comments ever since I changed my @... already contacted support. I am not ignoring you guys *deep sigh*

Ao3

Series Masterlist

Rivington had its fair share of taverns and inns sprawled across its busy and lively streets. It was surely a welcome change from the grim and daunting sense of dread that loomed over you when travelling across the shadowlands.

As such, the group had split to indulge in some brief moments of well deserved and welcome repose before finally reaching Baldur’s Gate.

Astarion sat across from you, subtlety eyeing his surroundings as you happily sipped your apple juice.

The sun had yet to reach its peak but the tavern was already crawling with drunkards and unpleasant crowds.

“We shouldn’t linger.” Astarion mused with arms crossed.

You nodded. “I’m nearly done.”

As much as you wished to forget about the troubling matters that haunted you, it was evident that your presence was earning some unwanted curious stares from a few onlookers.

He suddenly reached for the pouch at his hip, withdrawing a piece of fabric before extending his hand to you.

“Here.”

You took it in your hand, briefly admiring its silky texture of the handkerchief as shades of teal and green swirled together in mesmerising patterns.

Then your fingers found golden letters sewn along one corner.

Your name.

Your heart was clenched tight as you traced each letter in absolute awe.

“Astarion, this is…”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, think nothing of it, darling. You’re often covered in blood and sweat and Gods know what other fluids,” he said with a curt smile. “I figured you might as well look stylish whilst wiping that pretty face of yours.”

There he was.

So easily crawling under your skin with his words and now with such a thoughtful gift that fully displayed his artistry and exceptional needlework.

A lump in your throat held your words back.

Maybe he didn’t consider this gesture all that relevant or even worthy of a lingering thought, but you did.

This was a silent extension of him.

Now you’d have him by your heart at all times.

But the moment was cut short as a loud bang rippled across your table.

A man reeking of cheap mead cackled loudly at you. He was swaying so violently it was an incredible feat that he was able to stand on both feet without losing balance.

“Oi! Aren’t you that gal from a few years ago who did magic tricks?”

Your blood ran cold at once and your insides twisted into several knots.

“I don’t think so.” you said, focusing your gaze on the drink in front of you.

You didn’t recognise him, but you silently prayed he would just drop the matter and leave.

Instead, he hiccuped. “N-No! It is you! I would never forget such a face.”

Your eyes met Astarion’s momentarily as he narrowed his crimson eyes at the loud drunkard, and you reckoned he was close to intervening.

You mustered your strength. “No. It’s not me.”

But the man was insistent as he was drunk.

He banged a hand on the wooden surface once more. “What? You are the one whose mother–”

The flash of a dagger pierced through your field of vision, landing right between the man’s fingers, the blade pressed menacingly against his thumb.

“She said ‘no’,” he said through gritted teeth, eyes flaring with contempt. “Should I teach you the meaning of the word?”

The man shuddered and cowered in fear as he strolled away as fast as his wobbly steps would allow.

But Astarion had overdone it and had simultaneously caused many heads to turn your way, voices whispering as people tried to make out what the fuss was all about.

“We’ve overstayed our welcome,” he said, sheathing his dagger as he stood up.

You remained frozen in place, still taken aback by the words the man had spewed at you.

Your mind had been kept too busy to dive back into the memories of your mother, and to dwell on what had happened so many years ago.

A shudder spread across your entire body as the sense of dread gripped you.

You felt his hand nudge your shoulder. “Now’s not the time for daydreaming, sweetheart.”

And he quickly tugged at your arm, pulling you up on your feet before the two of you scurried along the tavern and earning heavy glares.

You made it out just in time as two Fists crossed paths with you on their way inside, trying to disperse the crowd that had gathered around the entryway.

“What was that all about?” Astarion asked as soon as you were able to blend in with the passers-by.

“Nothing.”

Your mouth had gone awfully dry even though you had downed most of your apple juice, replenishing your hydration level.

He stared at you, raising a brow inquisitively. “He did actually know you, didn’t he?”

You met his gaze in a silent warning. “He must have had me confused with someone else.”

He rolled his eyes. “You��re a terrible liar, but I will not pry. We all have secrets to bear.”

You nodded, thankful for his understanding remark.

There was no point in lying to him. He could always see right through your silly attempts at deception.

“Just know that you can come to me should you need to air them out,” he added. “I know all too well how buried secrets always find a way to crawl to the surface – one way or another.”

It was a glaring testament to how he had come to terms with opening up to someone else.

He had come far in that regard and you felt proud of him.

A faint smile settled on your lips, but it faded just as quickly once realisation hit you.

“Wait!” you said, gripping his arm. “The handkerchief – I left it there. Let me–”

He patted your back. “Leave it, darling. Unless you fancy starting a tavern brawl, that is.”

Your heart dropped.

“But…”

“I will embroider you a new one.”

But he never did.

There was no point in lying to Astarion.

You were very well aware of this.

He would spot your deceit faster than a hawk could tail its prey.

But the dreadful sense of impending doom had rooted you to the sofa.

This couldn’t all just be a coincidence.

By the time the two of you had reached the room, Gale and Lae’zel had already vanished through a portal to Waterdeep to assess the situation.

“All we can do for now is wait.” Astarion said, adjusting his shirt.

Shadowheart scoffed. “This is all very odd. It’s as if something is at work against us.”

You nodded. “I agree.”

“Are the two of you in some competition to see who’s the most dramatic?” he said with a click of his tongue. “Honestly, we know nothing about what happened. Maybe his contact succumbed to self-inflicted boredom – a running theme amongst wizards.”

His sense of humour would have been welcome under different circumstances, but you were on the brink of freaking out.

“Maybe I could cast Arcane Gate and help out…” you said in a restless tone, feeling nauseous.

But the mage slayer outside kept your magic levels too low for you to successfully cast a level six conjuration spell, so it was not even an option.

Astarion immediately snorted as he joined your side. “Perish the thought. I don’t think it’d be wise to do such a thing given your condition. You might open a portal to some place infested with murderous creatures, and then I’ll have to jump in to rescue you.”

Shadowheart, who had been pacing worriedly across the room, came to an immediate halt. “What condition?”

You rubbed your temples as if it would magically dissipate the gnawing headache.

“I had too much to drink last night.”

Shadowheart’s accusatory stare immediately landed on Astarion. “What did you do?”

He scoffed dramatically. “Excuse me? I am well aware that pinning the blame on me is a recurring activity in this group, but I had nothing to do with this.”

You groaned with a wince. “Please keep your voices down…”

Shadowheart rushed to lower herself by your feet until she could eye-level with you. “Are you all right?”

No.

And it had little to do with the aftermath of your alcohol consumption.

Ava.

Your intuition was pounding ceaselessly in your mind and you just couldn’t bring yourself to ignore it any longer.

Yes, she had told you she would talk to Astarion, but your nerves were being eaten raw and time wasn’t something you could afford to spare.

“I… think I need to talk about something…” you began as a shiver tore through your body.

Shadowheart gripped your knees, her face twisted in alarmed worry. “What is it?”

You exchanged a glare with Astarion who eyed you in confusion.

“I met up with Ava last night and…” You paused briefly, pondering your next words. “She made an offering.”

His brows furrowed together. “What offering?”

You felt sweat coat your palms as your heart rate quickened in distress. “She’s under the impression someone is after us,” you said, clutching your hands together. “That whoever it is might be responsible for that dead body and us getting wrongfully arrested.”

Shadowheart was now gripping your knees firmly. “And what did she offer?”

Your leg was visibly shaking now as you were finding it harder to keep your composure.

“Apparently, when Astarion feeds on me, our blood mixes together and…”

As far as you were aware, Shadowheart wasn’t aware of his deal with Ava, so you decided to hold that information.

“She’s interested in that… mixture and wants access to it in exchange for information.”

The effect your words had was nearly catastrophic.

Shadowheart looked positively scandalised and Astarion immediately gripped your arm, snarling, “ What? ”

He was instantly on his feet and you followed suit.

“How would she even have access to that in the first place?” she asked in awe.

Astarion spoke before you could, “I’ve been giving her some of my blood as she researches ways to counter the effects of vampirism. But I wasn’t aware of this!”

“ Astarion! ” Shadowheart let out in sheer outrage. “What in the Hells is wrong with you?”

He ignored her remark, eyes fixed on you.

He was mad.

No.

He was furious.

Up until this point, you had only ever witnessed him protect Ava and vouched for her integrity, but it seemed that he was no longer interested in upholding his defence.

“She told me she would tell you of this as she only recently found out about it.”

“To Hells with that!” he snarled. “Did you agree to that arrangement?”

Silence

But that was answer enough.

“You should have told me!”

You swallowed the uncomfortable lump in your throat. “You never listen to me when it comes to her!”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “This is different!”

“How?!”

Crimson eyes locked with yours as he scowled deeply. “She involved you!”

His admission stunned you into silence.

It wasn’t all that common nowadays to witness Shadowheart succumb to her protective instinct to the point of no return.

But you could tell she was close to snapping when she approached Astarion, yellow flames dangerously swirled across her palms.

“Give me one good reason not to blast this Ava into oblivion,” she growled with ire. “Or you, for that matter.”

He gave her a mocking scoff. “Darling, I’d love to see you try.”

She smiled deviously and you knew it was time to intervene.

You carefully placed your hand on her arm. “Shadowheart.”

She glanced at you almost in disbelief. “‘Shadowheart’? He’s out here dealing with dodgy people and putting us all at risk! Now she’s also involved with murdering people in Waterdeep?”

Astarion let out an exasperated groan. “What connection is there between the two, then?”

In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure.

Not yet, at least.

At this point, you were allowing your gut feeling to guide you, and it could very well blow up in your face if she turned out to be innocent in all of this.

However… the warning signs were too loud to ignore.

“I… don’t know yet.”

Astarion was glaring at you with pursed lips, and you vaguely wondered if he was upset with you, or if he was actually upset that his judgement had failed him when it came to Ava.

“You can bleed yourself dry if you wish, but not her ,” Shadowheart pressed in a low voice.

“I know .” he shot back.

She took a step forward, her face dangerously close to his. “Then you’d do well to remember that my respect for you has its limits. Do not cross them.”

You tugged at her arm again, trying to put some distance in between them.

“Well, this conversation isn’t going anywhere,” he said after a while with a scoff before turning around to leave. “I’ll be in my room.”

You tried to go after him, but Shadowheart held you firmly in place. “Let him go.”

It was hard to do so, but you nodded as you sat on a nearby chair.

“I know you care deeply for him, but this is beyond ludicrous.” she said with a heavy sigh.

Her voice was that of reason, so you couldn’t fault her for being so apprehensive.

“He would never harm me.”

And you would always stand by this as sure as the sun is to rise.

“Not consciously, but by dealing with this woman, he might have opened a door to great peril.”

You nodded, avoiding her penetrating gaze. “Wyll is running a few checks on some information she gave me. I guess we’ll find an answer soon enough.”

Shadowheart’s face softened every so slightly.

“Please exert caution with Astarion,” she said, grabbing your hand. “And I’m not talking about this in particular.

Oh.

“I don’t doubt for a second that he cares for you, but I don’t want to see you bound to nightmares,” she said in a whisper. “That is no way of living.”

You took a deep breath. “Things are fine between us.”

Unexpectedly, she let out a chuckle. “Oh, I’m sure. My room is next to his and… well, let’s just say that I may have overheard him mumbling your name a few times…”

“What do you…”

Oh.

“So, just… be careful,” she pleaded as she gripped your hand fiercely. “I trust your judgement, but not his… especially not after this.

You felt your heart swell with affection for Shadowheart and you pulled her into a tight embrace, almost tearing up as you did so.

“Thank you.”

She rubbed your back affectionately and whispered, “I adore you.”

“So do I.”

It was becoming more and more apparent that standing outside Astarion’s room was almost part of a routine now.

After a few more seconds, she finally pulled back with a reassuring smile. “I’ll tell the Fists outside to inform Wyll of what’s happened.”

And it was also unnecessarily hard to reach out for that first knock.

You had waited a couple of hours before deciding on what to do.

Wyll hadn’t shown up yet and there was still no word from Waterdeep.

So, you took a deep breath and as you were about to rasp your knuckles against the door, a charming voice was heard, “I know you’re outside.”

Of course he did.

“Can I come in?”

A brief pause.“Be my guest.”

You turned the knob and rushed inside, clicking the door shut behind you.

As expected, the room was plunged in a candle-lit dimness as the curtains draped over the window kept the blazing sun at bay.

Astarion lay on his bed, resting against the headboard as he threaded his way along a piece of cloth with a needle, his eyes solely focused on the task at hand.

Your stomach turned and twisted in knots, and you realised you weren’t quite sure how to start the conversation.

A low chuckle was heard. “I’m assuming you didn’t come here to simply stare at me, darling.”

The lightheartedness in his voice made you feel slightly at ease and you shook your head. “No. I suppose not.”

This time, he did meet your eyes briefly and your heart skipped a beat.“As dashing as I am, I’d rather hear what you have to say instead.”

Right.

You cleared your throat, taking careful steps towards him before taking a seat at the feet of his bed, mindful to keep a certain respectful distance.

“I should have told you about Ava earlier on when you asked me.”

“Indeed.”

He didn’t sound upset in the slightest.

If anything, there was a faint hint of strange calmness to his voice.

“As for Shadowheart…”

He let out a snort. “Please. The day she stops worrying about you is the day I’ll find her in a casket.”

You couldn’t help out a short chuckle as he was absolutely right.

Still, you laced your hands in your lap, absentmindedly fidgeting with your fingers. “I…” you began, before drifting off as uncertainty took place. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

Astarion paused altogether and his crimson eyes were on you again.

“See, I do understand that reasoning,” he said, tugging at the thread that curled around one finger. “But considering the nature of your conversation with her, you should have told me right away.”

You nodded.

“As fruitful as my connection to her might prove to be, I cannot accept the deal you made with her.”

Your heart raced in your chest at how determined he seemed in his resolve.

However…

“If what she says is true and someone is after us, this feels like a small price to pay.”

Astarion snipped the thread with a pair of scissors before setting his handiwork on the bedside table.

The look on his face could easily make the bravest men cower in fear.

“Nothing that involves you is a ‘small price to pay’,” he said, voice low and heavy. “It’s one thing for me to willfully provide my blood, and another for her to take advantage of you so blatantly.”

You frowned deeply. “She is also taking advantage of you, then.”

“I can deal with her.”

Astarion had this tendency to sell himself short in terms of self-worth. At times, he was as confident as one could be, but the centuries of robbed autonomy and lack of genuine bond to others would often slip in and take hold.

He was probably not even aware of how easy it was for you to catch on to this, but you knew him well enough by now.

“You don’t have to.”

He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do.”

It nearly shattered you to hear him put up his defences around you so unbelievably fast.

There was no need for that.

“Don’t ,” you nearly pleaded. “Please don’t assume I am trying to tell you what to do.”

Just as rapidly, his features softened ever so slightly. “I apologise.”

You vehemently shook your head. “I also apologise if my words came across as condescending.”

An unsettling silence took place.

His eyes roamed across your face and you felt more exposed to him than you had ever been even when fully naked in his presence.

Even though you felt comfortable and safe with him, there were times when you wondered if it was reciprocal.

“Ava is not your concern,” he eventually said. “I will deal with her.”

You had no doubt he would.

It just saddened you that… “I know she was helping you out in more ways than one, even if I don’t particularly agree with the… method, so to speak.”

“Yet here you are, thinking that whatever bond I share with her is significant enough,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “I am using her as much as she is using me. But I never allowed for that to extend to you. Ever .”

You swallowed as his harsh words hit you.

“That was her first mistake – involving you.”

“I took the deal freely.” you said.

“You didn’t have to at all,” he retorted impatiently. “She needs me more than I need her. So, if she knows anything about someone coming after us, she will tell me and I won’t be kind when I ask her to.”

Fair enough.

“Will you still give her your blood?”

“It depends.”

You blinked. “On what?”

“On how the conversation goes,” he said with a shrug. “Though what I do know for certain is that I will not give her blood after feeding on you.”

An impending sense of dread rose inside you and you vaguely wondered if you had just fucked up.

Information was power, and you worried that she might not take it well now that Astarion was openly against her proposal.

But to be fair, she did mention she would let him know about all of this. So, it wasn’t truly your fault that he didn’t take it well, was it?

In fact, it was very much on brand with Astarion.

His sense of loyalty to you was unwavering and transcended any arrangement the two of you had agreed to.

And that was a bond not easily severed, probably much to Ava’s dismay.

“You are off limits.”

It wasn’t a subtle warning by any means and it made your heart swell with warmth somehow. His protectiveness nearly rivalled that of Shadowheart, though you wouldn’t dare tell her this.

A faint smile curled his lips. “I have to thank you.”

You arched an eyebrow. “For what?”

He hesitated at first. “I know you mean well. I do know that.”

Oh, Astarion…

“You’re a better friend than I could ever have hoped for – or even deserve,” he went on. “It is hard at times to be vulnerable. I was never allowed to. For centuries I equated being vulnerable to being weak… even pathetic.”

You were unsure of how to respond, but you felt each word tug at your heartstrings in a way that you had only felt when he had confessed his feelings for you back in Moonrise Towers.

“I’m still getting used to this…” He paused abruptly as if pondering his next words. “Allowing myself to feel all these emotions, I suppose.”

“You are more deserving than you think,” you said truthfully. “Give yourself some credit. You used to be bound to your selfishness when we first met. You didn’t care for others because no one ever cared for you.”

His face held an expression akin to hurt, but it was the good kind of pain. Breaking one’s protective shell didn’t come without discomfort, but it was worth it in the long run.

Unconsciously, you shifted along the edge of the bed as the overwhelming urge to embrace him took over you at once.

Still, you didn’t want to push it, so you halted once you were sitting right next to him, which earned an amused smile from him.

“I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

He reached his hand to grab the piece of cloth on the nightstand. The very same he had just been embroidering moments ago.

“Come here.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he tapped his thigh twice.

Noticing your hesitancy, he repeated the motion until you gathered yourself, feeling a rush of heat pool at your cheeks.

“You do have a thing for keeping me waiting, darling.” he remarked playfully.

A chuckle made its way past your lips as you moved to settle on his lap, careful not to sit too close to his-

“Here you go,” he said, proffering what resembled a kerchief of some sort.

You took it in your hands, admiring its silky texture and mesmerising fusion of different shades of blue that swirled beautifully together until your eyes spotted the yellow-threaded embroidery sprawled along one corner.

Your name.

The needlework was impeccable as always.

Your eyes widened in sheer bewilderment as you remembered the last time he had offered you such a gift.“I – this is beautiful,” you managed to say. “The other one was a masterpiece as well.”

He chuckled tenderly. “The timing of my offering was rather inopportune on that day – I should have waited until we were back in camp.”

His words were sweet and caressed you like a lover, and you could feel yourself drawn more and more to him.

“May I?”

You nodded as he took the kerchief from your hands only to have it drape around your neck, his fingers tugging gently at both ends as his eyes met yours.

Oh.

Fuck.

You only had time to hastily hold on to the headboard with both hands for support as he pulled you in closer. “May I kiss you?”

It was an uncomfortable position to be in since you were trying to avoid his crotch at all costs.

“Where?”

His gaze dropped to your lips.

“Friends don’t do that.” you teased, but still inching closer to him.

“Darling ,” he began with a click of his tongue, rolling the edges of the fabric around each finger. “We haven’t been friends for quite a while now.”

And then he kissed you.

It was a hungry and urgent kiss and his tongue quickly slipped past your lips, causing you to instantly melt into him.

The softest moan escaped your throat as you felt a single fang nip teasingly at your lower lip.

Driven by pure instinct, you shifted along his thighs until you were pressed against his crotch.

He broke the kiss to let out a strained groan and you immediately lifted your hips, alarmed that you had gone too far.

But his hands immediately dropped to your waist, holding you in place. “Don’t.”

You met his lustful gaze. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t. Please .”

He didn’t push you back against him, but you felt his fingers tease the waistband of your trousers.

“Astarion…” you said, unsure if this was a good idea.

He tugged again, but more gently this tme. “We don't have to do anything you don't feel comfortable with.”

Oh, you were more than eager to carry on. In fact, you were desperate .

You bit your lip, torn between listening to reason or giving in to the moment.

The latter won by a landslide.

You nodded and he masterfully undid the buttons and laces with one hand.

“Do you trust me?”

What an odd question from him. “You know I do.”

His thumb traced your jawline before grazing your lower lip and earning a sigh from you. “Can I trust you not to scream?”

“Scream? Why would I-”

Realisation hit you like a tidal wave and your eyes widened as words died in your mouth.

Oh.

Astarion smiled cheekily, patting your thigh, clearly urging you to slide off of his lap. “Lock the door.”

You were still taken aback and didn't move an inch, staring into his crimson eyes instead as your heart drummed rapidly in your chest.

“Lock the door .”

It resembled a plea, which caused you to clench involuntarily from how desperate he sounded.

Swiftly slipping off his lap, you hurried across his room to turn the key below the doorknob until a click was heard.

By the time you turned around, Astarion had removed his shirt and you were rooted in place, utterly speechless.

He was a work of art.

No words of praise would ever do him justice.

Your mouth had dropped slightly open and he chuckled deviously. “You’re free to stay there and gawk, but I’d rather have you on top of me.”

His teasing snapped you out of your trance-like state and you felt a stronger wave of heat flare across your face and rush down your body.

Your legs felt weak all of a sudden, but you found your way back to him as you always did.

In the end, all roads did lead back to him.

As if driven by an outside force, you quickly slipped out of your trousers, only leaving on your underwear which was already gathering a growing wet spot.

His stare was fixed on your lower half and you spotted the familiar outline of his cock strained in his own trousers.

He eased you back on his lap with a firm grip on your waist and a boyish grin on his lips. Your hands settled on his bare shoulders, still mindful to not lower your hips too much.

“So, my dearest friend… ” he said, adjusting the kerchief around your neck. “How often do you indulge in such activities with your other friends?”

You smirked playfully. “Not often enough.”

He mirrored your expression, fingers slowly undoing each button of your shirt. “Oh? I wonder who crosses your mind, then.”

You.

But he already knew that as his hands travelled down your chest, each breath allowing your shirt to part wide enough to expose your heaving breasts.

“Is it Wyll?”

“You and your obsession with Wyll,” you laughed as he slowly pulled the fabric to the side, exposing each breast at a time. “I’m starting to think you want him for yourself.”

His eyes left yours to gaze at a perky nipple. “The question is: would you be willing to share?”

You whimpered softly as his thumb traced the underside of one breast and you felt too tempted to press down against his erection just so you could comfort the throb in between your legs.

“Of course… I’m all for sharing friends.”

Once he began grazing your nipple, you had to grip his shoulders tighter to anchor yourself.

Your body undulated instinctively, earning a hum of approval from him.

“Would you let Wyll do this, then? As a friend, obviously.”

You were about to arch a brow at his question when you felt one finger pulling your underwear to the side, exposing yourself to him.

It was almost comical how soaked you already were.

You reckoned it was enough to take more than just his fingers.

“Would you let him, darling?”

“I–”

But your voice died in your throat as he ran a single cool finger along your folds, carefully avoiding the swell in between them much to your agony.

The shift in temperature was always something that took some time getting used to and you occasionally flinched as your body adjusted to his touch.

“Can I do this, then?” he asked in a low growl as he teased your entrance. “As a friend.”

You rolled your hips out of reflex and he sank into you with ease until he was knuckle-deep.

“Gods…” you moaned in sheer relief, instinctively clenching around him.

He then pressed his thumb between your folds, causing your hips to jerk as he teased the pulsing swell. It wasn’t long until you began to slowly ride him, your eyes nearly fluttering shut.

“You can take more, can’t you?” he cooed, moving his hand to tease your other nipple. “I remember how eager you used to be for my cock.”

At this rate, he would make you come from his teasing words alone and with a single finger buried inside you.

“Astarion… don’t…” you moaned as you rolled your hips, urging him on.

He needed to shut up…

You needed him to stop talking before-

He suddenly slipped a second finger and you lost your balance, pressing your breasts against his bare chest while seeking support from his shoulder as you buried your face in his neck.

“You have no idea how I longed to be inside you again,” he sighed, his fingers gripping your waist and guiding your sloppy rolls, eventually setting the pace. “My hands can never feel as divine as you do.”

Gods…

You shuddered violently as your moans quickly turned into sobs and whimpers, the wet lewd sounds filling your ears.

He pressed the heel of his palm against you, the delicious friction causing you to rake your hand down from his shoulder and along his chest until he caught your wrist, pressing your heated palm against his hardened nipple.

Astarion immediately groaned and you felt him arch into you.

“Darling…” he moaned, pumping his fingers faster inside you. “Please look down.”

You were so out of it, that his words didn’t register at first, so you kept on riding him in between sobs, further teasing his nipple under your touch.

“Look down,” he repeated more firmly, nearly slipping out of you. “I want you to see the mess you’ve made.”

“ No-no-no … please…” you nearly cried in exasperation, moving your hips desperately against him.

“Then look down.”

You growled in pure frustration, somehow managing to pull back enough to have your eyes land on the hand in between your legs.

It was soaked down to his wrist, and you could see some of it beginning to drip, staining his strained bulge.

You felt an overwhelming wave of embarrassment wash down over you and tried to bury your face in his neck again, but he gripped your chin with his fingers, halting you.

“Do not hide from me,” he said, slipping his fingers back inside as he stared into your half-hooded eyes. “This is one of the highest praises you can offer me.” And he proved his point by planting the softest kiss on your lips.

You immediately melted into his praise, realising just how lovely he could be…

The pent-up sexual frustration was at an all time high and you could feel the familiar coil in your lower abdomen reach the point of no return.

You wished you were strong enough to fight him back with snarky and witty replies, but your concentration was broken.

“What about a third one?”

You didn’t care anymore.

You just wanted release.

It had been too long since he had made you come and you'd take anything he gave you at this point.

“Just…” you began, chasing after that high relentlessly. “ Just… ”

He had the nerve to chuckle at your frustration and you felt a third finger prodding at your entrance.

You could take it.

You would take it.

The fullness would most surely remind you of his cock and you needed it.

You were wet enough to accommodate him as he pushed through, earning a gasp from you followed by a shudder and a strained groan.

“I don’t mean to brag, but I highly doubt dear Wyll would get this reaction from you.”

“Gods… stop talking about Wyll as you’re inside me,” you managed to string coherents words together in between your moans. “Just… please…”

He pressed a kiss to your flushed cheek. “You always take me so well.”

How you wished it was his cock instead, stretching you even more and filling you deeper.

You were nearly there.

“Don’t scream, darling.” he teased as you rode him desperately. “We wouldn't want dear Shadowheart to overhear your wanton cries.”

Well, Shadowheart was already privy to the nature of your relationship with Astarion thanks to him and how he clearly didn't shy away from taking care of himself with others around.

Your mind was about to blank and you slid the kerchief from your neck, feeling the need to bite down on something as you reached your peak.

A few more hip rolls did the trick and one last stroke of his thumb along your folds managed to push you right over the edge.

Your contractions were so violent and strong at first you thought you might die from how hard you were clenching around him, your legs wobbling dangerously as you were drained of lifeforce with each blinding wave of bliss.

The piece of cloth in your mouth didn’t do much to muffle you as your climax tore throughout your body, but it was better than having nothing.

Astarion only slid out once you had slumped into his chest, barely able to keep your breathing steady.

Your knees gave out and you sank down against his crotch, earning a guttural growl from deep within him.

Shit.

You instantly slid off of him, worrying you had accidentally gone too far. “Astarion… I’m…”

He shook his head, the hand that was soaked in your wetness clawing at the front of his trousers as his eyes were pressed shut.

Oh.

“I’ll take care of this…” he let out a pained hiss.

Oh.

“I can just leave,” you mumbled. “I’m…”

His trousers were now undone and you could see his clothes cock faintly throbbing.

And he shook his head once again. “You can stay – you can watch… if you want to.” His words were coated in urgent lust.

Your eyes widened at his proposition and you thought you might implode right there and then.

You had barely come down from your climax and the throbbing that had begun to subside was already about to match your quickened heartbeat.

“Or you can leave…” he said in a low and strained voice.

Oh, he was truly holding back…

“I… can stay.” you offered at once, sitting next to him and trying to ignore the lust that was building inside you once again.

This wasn't about you.

He quickly nodded and with a swift tug he freed his cock and you had to bite down hard on your lip at the mesmerising sight in front of you.

A single strand of precum dangled from the tip, already pooling on his lower abdomen.

“Gods above…” he let out a sigh of relief, hips lifting from the mattress as he wrapped the hand drenched in your wetness around him.

This was too hot to witness and you curled your hands into fists on your lap, wishing nothing more than to touch him again.

But you knew he needed this.

He needed to feel at ease with his body first.

His eyes met yours briefly before dropping to your chest and to your breasts as they heaved from your laboured breathing.

You removed your shirt, not wanting to obstruct his view and Astarion growled .

The pace was slow at first as he squeezed his cock, but he quickly picked up, mixing your wetness with his with each stroke.

He looked positively ethereal as his handsome face twisted in pleasure, lips parted and razor-sharp fangs peeking through.

Should you say something? Should you praise him? Encourage him? Or would it be too much?

From what you remembered, he seemed to revel in your teasing words in moments of shared bliss, but how much of that was an act back then? Was he ever able to fully enjoy being with you?

In doubt, you chose to remain silent as you watched him bring himself closer to his own climax.

It didn't take him long to start mumbling your name in between heated pants and there was no way back now.

You were throbbing hard again, wetness spilling from you with each involuntarily clench.

Your body was so ready for him… it was almost painful.

A thicker string of precum bridged his tip to his abdomen, and you nearly moaned, remembering its sweet taste.

He rolled his hips languidly, eyes never leaving you as he gripped the bedsheets under him with such force you reckoned me might tear right through the fabric.

That sparked newfound curiosity inside you.

Slowly, you leaned forward, shifting closer just to have your hand next to his without quite touching him, but close enough for him to feel your warmth.

I'm here… I'm with you, you wanted to whisper, but only heard the words echo in your head.

He groaned in response and, much to your surprise, he released the sheets and his fingers found you, intertwining them in yours as he held on to you.

Your heart might have skipped several beats, you were no longer sure at this rate.

You had seen him reach his peak a handful of times before, but there was something different about the way he toppled over the edge this time.

He threw his head back against the headboard, straining his neck as his mouth dropped open, your name being the only intelligible word you could make out in the midst of hisses and groans.

Your heart was hammering so fast in your chest that you feared you might not make it as he reached his peak.

His hips still momentarily and he covered his swollen tip with his hand and the first spurts of cum began to slip through his fingers before dribbling down to gather at the base and across his lower abdomen.

You held his hand formçy through his climax. Perhaps the first genuine one you had ever witnessed, which invoked an odd feeling of… delight?

For the second time in just a mere couple of days, the two of you held hands albeit seeking varying degrees of comfort and relief.

Beads of sweat rolled down his temple and covered his bare torso as he descended from his high and that was when his eyes met yours.

Your stomach turned and you felt the throb between your legs begin to ease with each passing second.

“Will you kiss me?”

His request took you by surprise, but you promptly shifted next to him until your face was close enough that your lips grazed his.

Only then did he let go of your hand and merely because he meant to hold your chin as he kissed you softly.

It carried neither urgency nor lust.

Just a pure display of silent intimacy that strummed at your heartstrings more effectively than any other praise he could ever offer you.

You melted into his sweet touch and allowed your kiss to express the unspoken words you had yet to tell him.

I love you…

Whichever form of love it was, all you knew was that it felt right and love overdue.

You could feel him occasionally smile against your lips and there was not a single drop of doubt in you.

I love you.

After what felt like an eternity, you pulled away, already mourning his touch.

“Shadowheart knows.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

You had to hold back a chuckle. “She heard you – well, when you were… handling things after feeding on me.”

The most mischievous of smiles settled on his lips.

“I thought you said you were quiet…”

“I was, darling,” he said before pecking your cheek. “For the most part, that is.”

You giggled and then stared at him in awe as his beauty increased tenfold from where you sat.

He was impossibly handsome.

“You’re so…”

“Charming?”

You rolled your eyes as he pressed his cool lips to your other cheek.

“Beautiful?”

Another kiss.

“You’re so… you.” you blurted out almost feeling embarrassed from how basic your praise was.

But it drew the biggest smile from him, and you mirrored it instantly.

“Well…”

You watched as his eyes dropped to his lower half and yours widened slightly at the obscene amount of cum was now dribbling down his sides in thick beads. His hand was still holding his now softening cock, fingers drenched in his own spend.

“That’s a lot…” you said.

He nodded, looking almost as perplexed as you were. “I don’t think I’ve ever…” and his voice trailed down.

And you knew exactly what he meant.

With a warm smile, you extended your hand, offering him the kerchief he had gifted you moments before.

He visibly winced. “No, darling. It would be nigh criminal to use such delicate fabric on this .”

Your smile widened. “Can I fetch you a towel then?”

“Please,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “It’s rather messy here.”

You pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips before sliding off the bed and hurriedly slipping into your shirt and trousers and crossing the room.

The key turned in one swift move and you quickly left the room.

You were only able to take a few steps before a silhouette startled you.

Shadowheart.

She was leaning against the railing by the top of the staircase with folded arms and a quirked brow.

“Gods! You scared me,” you said, clutching at your chest.

“Glad some of us are able to enjoy ourselves in such times.”

You swallowed hard. “Uh… we were just talking.”

She snickered humorously. “I suppose it’s a form of communication.”

An overwhelming heatwave spread across your face. Had you been that loud? Or had he?

Then her expression turned serious. “Pull yourself together. We have visitors.”

TBC

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x you #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x oc #astarion x f!reader #the arrangement #astarion smut

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moonselune · 6 months ago

Note

How would Astarion, Gale, Lae'zel and Karlach (separately) react if they witnessed someone random insulting Tav and her only ignoring the offender? As if, no comeback, no fight, just 100% pretending not to hear anything.

Hehehe we love some protectiveness from our dearies don't we?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The marketplace was alive with activity, the sounds of vendors shouting their wares and children laughing as they ran through the stalls. You and Karlach strolled through the bustling crowd, her large frame a comforting presence by your side as she slung an arm around your shoulders. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the scene.

As you admired a display of colorful fabrics, a gruff voice cut through the pleasant atmosphere. "Look at her, thinking she belongs here. Pathetic."

You felt a flush of embarrassment but chose to ignore the insult, keeping your attention on the fabrics. Karlach, however, immediately bristled, her temper flaring up.

"Oi!" she barked, her voice commanding and loud enough to make several heads turn. "You got a problem with her?"

The offender, a scruffy-looking man with a sneer on his face, shrugged nonchalantly. "Just calling it like I see it."

Karlach stepped forward, her eyes blazing with anger. "And what you should see is a beautiful woman who has more strength in her little finger than you do in your entire body," she said, her voice dripping with contempt. "Buddy, you don't know who you're dealing with."

The man took a step back, intimidated by Karlach's fierce demeanor and the flames flickering from her skin.

"I didn't mean anything by it," he muttered, suddenly looking very small.

"Apologize," Karlach demanded, crossing her arms over her chest, her muscles bulging. You couldn't help but smile at her.

The man mumbled a quick apology before scurrying away, his tail between his legs. Karlach turned back to you, her expression softening as she saw the tension in your shoulders.

"You okay, love?" she asked, her voice gentle now.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Thank you, Karlach. You didn't have to do that."

She grinned, wrapping an arm back around your shoulders and pulling you close. "Of course I did. No one gets to talk to my girl like that."

You leaned into her, feeling a rush of warmth and gratitude. "I'm lucky to have you."

"Damn right you are," she replied with a wink. "Now, let's get you something nice. I think you deserve a treat after that nonsense."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The training grounds were buzzing with the sounds of warriors honing their skills, metal clashing against metal, and the grunts of exertion filling the air. You and Lae'zel were making your way through the camp, her presence a beacon of strength and determination. You walked beside her, your head held high despite the stern glares of the githyanki warriors around you.

As you passed a particularly burly githyanki soldier, he spat out a venomous insult, his voice dripping with disdain. "Look at her, pretending to be a warrior. She's nothing but a weakling."

You felt the sting of his words but chose to ignore him, your gaze fixed straight ahead. Lae'zel, however, stopped in her tracks, her eyes narrowing as she turned to face the offender.

"Repeat that," she demanded, her voice a low, dangerous growl.

The soldier sneered, clearly not intimidated. "You heard me. She's nothing."

Lae'zel's hand moved to the hilt of her sword, her posture radiating lethal intent. "You dare insult one under my protection? You question my judgment?" Her voice was like ice, each word cutting through the air.

The soldier faltered, realizing too late the gravity of his mistake. "I-I didn't mean—"

"You will apologize," Lae'zel interrupted, her eyes blazing with fury. "Or I will make an example of you."

The soldier, now visibly shaken, muttered a hasty apology, his bravado evaporating under Lae'zel's fierce glare. Satisfied, she turned back to you, her expression softening slightly. You offered her a shy smile in response.

"You should not have to endure such disrespect," she said, her voice still tinged with anger. "Do not think that ignoring them means you are weak. You have more strength than they could ever understand."

You nodded, appreciating her fierce protection. "Thank you, Lae'zel."

She placed a hand on your shoulder, a rare gesture of affection. "Come. We have training to do."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The evening sun bathed the city streets in a warm, golden light as you and Gale made your way through the bustling crowds. The smell of fresh bread and spices filled the air, and the chatter of people enjoying the end of the day created a lively atmosphere. Gale walked beside you, his hand occasionally brushing against yours, his eyes bright with the simple joy of your company.

As you passed a group of townsfolk, one of them, a burly man with a sneer permanently etched on his face, called out, "Look at her, all dressed up like she thinks she's something special. Pathetic."

You felt the brunt of the words hitting your insecurities but you chose to ignore them, focusing instead on a nearby stall displaying the most beautiful tapestries. Gale, however, immediately noticed the insult and the way you pretended not to hear it. His expression darkened, and he turned to face the offender, his posture tense but controlled.

"Excuse me," Gale began, his voice calm but laced with an edge. "I believe an apology is in order."

The man looked taken aback, his sneer faltering as he met Gale's intense gaze. "What? I didn't say anything to you."

"No, but you insulted her," Gale replied, his tone unyielding. "And that is unacceptable."

The man glanced at you, then back at Gale, clearly considering his options. Gale took a step closer, his presence commanding and his eyes blazing with quiet fury. His hands crackling with untamed magic. "Apologize. Now."

The man muttered something under his breath, barely audible, before turning away and disappearing into the crowd. Gale watched him go, his jaw clenched, before turning back to you.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly, his hand finding yours and raising it to his lips, giving it a small peck

"I'm fine, Gale. Thank you." You chuckle, you quite liked this side of Gale, but you couldn't give that away so easily, not if you wanted to experience the fullness of this side of your lover.

He sighed, his expression softening. "I can't stand by and let anyone treat you that way," he said, his voice filled with genuine concern. "You deserve better than their petty insults."

You leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I know. And I appreciate you standing up for me."

Gale smiled, wrapping his arm around your waist as the two of you continued your walk.

"Always," he promised, his tone warm and loving. You couldn't help but notice the way the tips of his fingers pressed to you so forcefully and it made you smile. Oh yes, this would have to happen more often.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The bustling market was alive with the sounds of merchants hawking their wares and customers haggling over prices. You and Astarion strolled through the crowd, his arm casually draped over your shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips as he whispered witty remarks about the various stalls and their goods.

You stopped to admire a table of finely crafted jewelry, a stranger's voice cut through the din, sharp and disdainful.

"Look at her, the harlot," the woman sneered, her words dripping with contempt. "As if she doesn't get enough gifts from her gentleman callers."

You stiffened slightly but chose to ignore the insult, your gaze remaining fixed on the jewelry, it was rather beautiful. Astarion's arm tightened around you, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the offender. He could feel the tension in your body and the effort it took to ignore the woman's words.Astarion stepped forward, placing himself between you and the stranger.

"Excuse me?" he said, his voice dangerously calm. "Care to repeat that?"

The woman faltered, taken aback by Astarion's sudden challenge. "Oh, I-I just said—"

"I heard what you said, hag" Astarion interrupted, his tone icy. "But I think you should reconsider your choice of words."

The woman's bravado crumbled under Astarion's piercing gaze. He took a step back, muttering something unintelligible before scurrying away. Astarion watched him go, his expression one of cold satisfaction.

Turning back to you, Astarion's demeanor softened. "Are you all right, my darling?" he cooed, gently cupping your face.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Thank you, dearest But you know you didn't have to."

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Of course I did," he murmured. "Now I believe in fairytales such valiance is rewarded with a kiss."

You sighed and rolled your eyes, pulling him in for a kiss by the lapels of his jacket, knowing that the woman was watching you. Perhaps that's why you chose to deepen the kiss, putting on a show for her. She clearly needed something in her life.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope y'all enjoyed it - Seluney xox

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hoejosatoru · 2 years ago

Text

Our Pet

A follow up to my Karaku pussy eating Drabble. Part one can be found here.

Warnings: I call the clones brothers in the fic bc it just sounds better in conversation, 5some with demons lmfao, reader is a lil scared but into it, oral (m receiving), dacryphillia, pussy job, p in v, p in b, double penetration (one in front one in back), degradation, praise, cream pie, light choking, squirting, just pure filth I fear, not proof read. MDNI

You were thrown over Karaku’s shoulder in a flash. He carried you like you were nothing, running through the trees. But running wasn’t the right word. He was moving so impossibly fast everything blurred around you. You had to close your eyes so you wouldn’t get dizzy.

“Good, all my brothers are home,” Karaku said as he finally slowed to a walk. “Better be good for them. Won’t be happy if you make me look bad.”

You finally opened your eyes, in disbelief at how far you came in such a short period of time. You were up in the mountains near your village, farther up than you had ever been. Karaku gripped you tightly as he led you into into a hidden little cottage.

The second you walked through, 3 heads whipped to your direction. “Why the hell did you bring a human here?” a red-eye demon asked. He was identical to Karaku, save for the red eyes and angry expression etched on his face.

“Relax, Sekido,” Karaku replied, his fingers trailing up and down your side. “I brought us a little snack.” Your breath caught in your throat.

Another demon, this one yellow-eye approached. “You’ve got good taste, Karaku, I’ll give you that. This one will look pretty on my cock.”

“Urogi! You’re going to scare her,” reprimanded the final demon. His eyes were blue and had a certain softness in them you didn’t think was capable for demon.

“You’re such a baby, Aizetsu,” Urogi rolled his eyes.

Karaku snorted. “She wasn’t scared when fucking my face. Said she didn’t want demon tongue in her pussy, yet creamed on me like a slut. isn’t that right, y/n?” Your face went red at his words. “She thinks it wrong for sweet little humans to fuck demons.”

Sekido scoffed. “You fucking humans are the disgusting ones.” He approached you, gripping your jaw tightly, making you look into his eyes. “You don’t deserve my cock in you. But I’ll allow you to suck it.”

Karaku ripped your kimono off, leaving you completely naked before the 4 demon. Your face heated as you tried to cover yourself; it was no use, Karaku gripped your wrists and held them up.

“Fuck,” Urogi groaned, “if you don’t wanna put your cock in her, Sekido, I will.” Karaku gave you a little push forward, making you fall on your hands and knees in front of the red-eyed demon. He looked at you with contempt, but you could see his erection pressed against the fabric of his clothes.

“Get on with it.” You did as he asked, not wanting to upset this one in particular. You slipped him out of his clothes, his dick thick and heavy in your hands. The tip red and angry, much like him. You gave a tentative lick of his tip. He tsked. “I haven’t got all night.”

You licked a stripe up the bottom of his dick, tracing a little vein. You took him in your mouth, as deep as you could go, getting him nice and wet. You used a hand to squeeze the base, as you swirled your tongue over the tip.

As you did this, Aizetsu slid behind you, admiring how your pussy fluttered as you sucked off Sekido. His cock was aching in his clothes and he could wait. You startled as his hands gripped your hips, angling them up to him. “Can’t wait, wanna play with your pussy.”

Suddenly you felt something thick and hard between your pussy lips. Aizestu let out a sigh as he slid his cock through your wetness. He was so sensitive and too nervous to go in all the way. Instead, he gave himself a pussy job, rutting his cock against your heat. You moaned on Sekido’s cock as Aizetsu’s head brushed against your clit. Each bump made your pussy wetter, aching to be filled.

“Fuck, feels so good,” Aizetsu whined.

Sekido grumbled. “You’re distracting her.” His hands gripped your hair, nails scraping your scalp. “Take me fucking deeper.” He thrust his cock into your mouth, making you choke on him. He let out a loan groan as your mouth tightened on him. He continued to snap his hips against you, turned on by how you struggled to take him. “I didn’t see it when Karaku brought you in, but now that you’re crying on my cock I have to admit you’re pretty. For a human.” A thumb brushed a tear off your cheek.

Meanwhile, Aizetsu was desperately rutting himself against your pussy. He was moaning and whimpering, feeling your arousal drip down his dick. His cock head hit your clit particularly hard, suddenly tipping you over the edge. You moaned on to Sekido, vibrating his cock. The sensation finally sent the demon over the edge, spilling his hot cum in your mouth.

“Fucking take it, swallow it all,” he grunted, with a few finally thrusts in your mouth.

No soon did he finish did you feel warmth squirting over your pussy and dripping down your thighs as Aizetsu came. “Oh fuck, y/n,” he whined, “Fuck your pussy your looks so pretty covered in my cum.”

Urogi pulled the blue-eyed one away. “You can admire her after I’ve ruined her.”

Karaku appeared in front of you, smirking. “Wadda ya think Urogi? Think she can take both of us?” Urogi had you sat on his lap, squeezing your boobs. Karaku watched, licking his lips.

“I think we should find out.” He squeezed your nipples, making you yelp. Both demons laughed. You could feel Urogi’s stiff cock pressing against you. “I want her ass.”

Before you could say anything, Karaku’s lips were on yours. He kissed you while he undressed himself, taking a pause to squeeze your tits on occasion. Urogi licked and nibbled at your neck hit hands trailing down your back.

Once he was naked, Karaku pulled you on to his lap. He wasted no time lining his long, hard cock up to your pussy. He pushed into you with as hiss. “So fucking tight.” He gave a few experimental thrusts, loving how you gasped and gripped his shoulders. “I don’t know if we are both gonna fit.”

Urogi snickered. “Oh, I’ll make it fit.” You heard him spit into his hand. He brought his hand to your ass, massaging the tight ring. “She’s so fucking wet and sloppy I didn’t even need spit.” He pressed a finger into you, the sweet, stretching sensation making you gasp.

“Fuc-nngh!” You cried out as the golden-eyed demon pressed the g-spot in your ass.

“Mmm, what pretty sounds you make,” Urogi purred. “Keep em coming.” He pressed another finger into, making you gasp. Karaku kept thrusting into you, making your whole body shake.

“Shit, she really likes that Urogi,” Karaku groaned. “Clenching on me like crazy.”

“Fuck I can't wait any longer,” Urogi grumbled, “Hope you’re ready. Gonna fuck you dumb.” Your pussy flutter with anticipation. You felt Urogi’s cock at your hole, slowly pressing until he was able to slip inside you.

“Shit, oh Urogi,” you gasped. He pressed into further, hissing as your body just barely gave way to him.

“God she really is fucking tight,” Urogi said through gritted teeth. He bottomed out in you at the same time as Karaku. You felt so full you could barely breathe. Both demons began to rock their hips into you. Your head fell back on Urogi’s shoulder as you tried not fall apart. You’d never had two men inside you, and these were no ordinary men. They were demon. Everything in your rational mind told you this was wrong, that you should enjoy it. They were cold blooded killers. Evil.

Yet the ecstasy you felt as the moved inside you was undeniable. The sensations of two cocks rubbing your more sensitive spots drove any rational thought out of your brain. You moaned and gasped as the pleasure built impossibly more intense.

“Looks like she loves demon cock, doesn't it, Urogi?” Karaku mused. He wasn't even out of breath as he fucked into you.

Urogi grinned wildly. “Creaming on me like slut. She fucking loves it. Don’t you, y/n? You love demon cock?”

You were breathless as you chanted, “Yes, yes- fuck, yes.”

Urogi, gripped your throat, giving it a little squeeze. “Wanna hear you say it. Say you love demon cock.”

“I- I- nngh- I love demon cock.” All four demons laughed at how fucked out you were. You almost forgot the other 2 were there. When you looked over at them, you could see they were hard again, looking at you like they wanted to eat you.

The demons inside you were spurred on by your words, thrusting even harder into you. You were sandwiched so tight between them that your clit brushed against Karaku’s lower stomach with each thrust. The coil in your stomach snapped and pleasure like you’d never felt flooded your body.

Unintelligible moans left your mouth as you came around two cocks. “Fuck yeah, that it,” Urogi groaned. Urogi’s hips stuttered as he fucked into you fully. He let out a near growl as he filled you with his seed. The sensation of his cock throbbing in your ass pushed your orgasm further.

Your pussy tensed then released, squirting on the two demons. “Such a good fucking slut,” Karaku moaned. His own orgasm finally reaching him. He spilled inside you, rutting his hips until you’ve milked his cock dry.

The two demons slipped out of you and you collapsed back onto Urogi. Your whole body was shaking and you could barely catch your breath. All four demons drank in your fucked out and ruined appearance.

As your body started to come down, fear settled over you. They'd used you for what you wanted, would they kill you now. “A-are you going to hurt me?” you squeaked out.

Karaku laughed at your fear. He took you jaw in his hands. “Don’t worry, you’re going to be a our pet now. And we treat our pets very well.”

#this is nasty nasty #they have rotted my brain #Hantengu smut #hantengu clones #karaku smut #aizetsu smut #urogi smut #sekido smut #demon slayer smut #demon slayer fic

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leaawrites · 13 days ago

Text

The Lakes

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: in which, their peace is within their privacy.

Inspired by The Lakes by Taylor Swift

Little Birthday Celebration for Tay.

Warnings: fluff

Wordcount: 0.6k

Masterlist

The anonym voices of the media and all it’s hunters faded to nothing when he looked at her.

Spending the rest of the summer break in England was something Lando had barely done before. Usually spending his free time in Ibiza where he would be surrounded by friends and people of his kind. The loud ones with drinks in their hands and lost of their minds from the liquor in their cups. The system in their body overflowing with dopamine.

But with her, he didn’t need anything of that sort. Looking at her and feeling her body close to his was enough to make his mind go crazy.

The Windermere peaks in front of them, stretching out in front of them, making the eery world look like a perfect place to cry.

Laying on the soft patch of grass, notebook in her hand, he couldn’t stop watching her. The quiet engulfing them like waves in the ocean, taking them underwater, away from the loud noise of people talking and treating them with the luxury of just their presence. The soft scribbling of her pen on the paper adding a sweetness to it. Her thoughts roaming around words and metaphors, they were roaming around him.

“What are you writing about?” He asked, turning his head from the view out to the lakes towards her.

“You,” she answered simply, smiling down at him, her eyes ever so often flitting over to his own, lingering a moment longer every time. “My muse.”

As much as he’d like to dislike the name, he couldn’t help but feel appreciated through it. All her words that she could use on everything that the world had to offer, she was using them to remember him. To remember them and their time that seemed so limited through the outside world.

“Do you think people will say bad things about us?” They weren’t public, not yet at least. Rumours flew around their space, but that was everything. More reasons to hide, to be careful, to be honest.

They wanted to show themselves openly, not make a big announcement with it, but live normally like they would in any other life. Open with their love but still close enough to hear whispered shared in secret.

“You’re amazing, you know that right?” He asked, ignoring her question and running his hand through her hair. A faint blush creeping up her neck at the words and touch.

“Lando.” Rolling her eyes she took his hand in hers, holding it tightly to her lips. Mumbling against his skin. “That’s not an answer to my question.”

“It’s mine though,” he answered. His voice sincere and his eyes softening as he felt her fear radiating off towards him. The feeling rushing through his blood before finding no place to stay and leaving through his fingertips again, out into the lake. “I don’t care what people say, I just want you. I don’t wanna have to hide you to feel secure. It’d be foolish of me.”

“You are foolish though,” she argued, raising her eyebrows and smiling softly in contempt.

“Not like that.” Shaking his head, his voice dropped an octave lower. “I’m foolish for you, not for us. There’s a difference.”

Letting the words linger for a moment around them, engulfing them together in a heartfelt hug and pulling their invisible string tighter around their intertwined hands, they breathed in unison.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Shaking his head, Lando answered, “You deserve way more.”

“I don’t want more. I want you.

Poets have died for a love like ours.

I’m not gonna let this die because of people I don’t know.”

#lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris #f1 fandom #f1 grid #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula one #the lakes #taylor swift #folklore

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thisblogisaboutabook · 10 months ago

Text

Rainy Season - Part 6

If You Told Me To

Azriel Eris x Reader

Eris has a little chat with Azriel. As Y/N braces herself to face her mate for the first time since leaving him - she calls in reinforcements. Eris calls in one of his own.

A/n: This is the second to last chapter of the series. Chapter 7 will be the final chapter followed by an epilogue. I have been excited to share this chapter as, lyrically, the song it’s titled after is one of my favorites. Enjoy!

Part 5 Part 7

Warnings: Language

The Shadowsinger sat chained in a cell beneath the Autumn Keep. Comfortably lit, temperature regulated, nothing egregious. There was a dark, selfish part of Eris that would not have minded a bit of suffering to befall the male, a little seemed fair given the hell he’d put Y/N through. But Eris couldn’t do that to her. Certainly there was a small part of the mating instinct that would have left her in pain to see her mate - a title he didn’t deserve - hurting.

Eris begrudgingly placed a glamour over her scent that clung to his skin like fine perfume, such a waste to cover it with his own autumnal blend. It was not his place to explain or unveil anything regarding the relationship between them, Eris would have to tread carefully in his questioning.

He almost, almost said “fuck the glamour” and let that intoxicating-as-hell summer storm scent of hers fill the air and marched straight to the dungeons in his sweats and a linen tee, let him see exactly what Eris had been up to all morning. The look on the Shadowsinger’s face would have been so damned satisfying.

Alas, he chose to play the part of pompous High Lord, dressing in the most lordly of attire.

“Well, well, well, what brings you to my humble abode, Shadowsinger? You could have just knocked.”

Azriel snarled through his gag, nose flaring. To put it lightly, he looked rough. His once golden skin paled, dark circles prominent beneath his eyes, and multiple large purple bruises littered his skin.

“Ah, right.” Eris cleared his throat, giving the tattered male before him a disapproving stare. With a quick flick of his wrist the gag disappeared.

“Just let me fucking talk to her.” Azriel growled, his shadows darkening the cell.

Eris inspected his cuticles, refusing to drop the air of irreverence he’d intentionally given off. “Who would you like to speak with, Shadowsinger?”

“You fucking know.” He growled, rage limning each word.

“Say her name.” Eris replied cooly. Needing to make a point to himself.

“Y/N.”

And in that moment Eris realized just how far gone he was in his desire for Y/N. It was dangerous, the fiery rage that burned through his chest at the sacrilege of her sacred name falling from his desecrated lips.

Though Eris refrained from any external display of that inferno blazing inside of him, the slight tick in his jaw must have given him away to the awaiting Spymaster.

Azriel pulled and jerked with all of his might against the chains and Eris was well aware of his power, the entire Autumn Court was. Eris had backup measures in place that - even with his contempt toward the male - he did not wish to use.

“Stop pulling on the chains, Azriel.” Eris commanded.

The use of his given name instead of Eris’ typical “Shadowsinger” caught Azriel’s attention and the look alone on the his face could have killed a lesser male as Azriel’s furious gaze met Eris’

“If you fucking hurt her, I will rip you apart limb by limb. I will make it slow-“

Eris cut him off. “Was it those theatrics that won her heart, Shadowsinger? Truly, you bore me.” Eris returned to examining his nails.

“Fuck you.” Azriel growled.

Eris would ask Y/N’s forgiveness later for what he was about to say. At least he’d made an honest effort to keep his feelings for her separate from the situation at hand.

Without missing a beat, the High Lord goaded, “Funny you should say that. Was it not your fucking around that put you in this position in the first place?”

Azriel lost it. Eris couldn’t recall a time in his centuries of living that he’d seen such display of rage. He yanked at the chains with all of his might, his centuries of strength training apparent as the sounds of the rage and the grinding of stone on metal filled the cell. His efforts nearly successful in ripping free from the wall.

“I’ve asked you once to quit pulling, Shadowsinger. You are in here with just cause and will answer as such. You can behave like a civil being or continue the brute act and I will be forced to take matters into my own hands.” With that, fire sparked and was contained within his palm.

Azriel banked slightly at the display and for a moment Eris felt a twinge of remorse as his eyes landed on those scarred hands.

“Spare me your pity, High Lord.” Azriel spat the title with venom.

Eris shook his head, pacing alongside the cell. “Oh but I do pity you, Shadowsinger. Not in the way I hold back my fire given your past circumstances, that is basic decency on my part.”

With a mock bow, he continued,

“What I pity is how you wage such concern over Y/N’s well-being within my palace walls while blatantly disregarding the fact that you are the one who broke her with your own two hands. And now that she has built herself back up shard by fractured shard into something far stronger, even more rare than the shining gem she already was, you appear like a thief in the night. What is your plan, Azriel? Are you here to break her again?

Eris stepped closer to the cell. Flame igniting those amber eyes as he crouched down face to face with the bound Shadowsinger, grounding out in a low, predatory tone. “Because you won’t this time. Diamonds don’t crush under pressure.”

And with that, Eris stood back up, placed his hands in his pockets, that casual irreverence once again masking his features. “And I find diamonds to be quite precious, so I’ll be sure to cherish mine with the tender, loving care that she deserves.”

Azriel seethed, shadows raging violently within the cell. And Eris wasn’t certain but he could have sworn that anger was directed at their master himself.

Eris waited for more violence, for the filth that would spill from his mouth but the Shadowsinger only hung his head low, and to Eris’ surprise, large, salty tears began falling from his face.

Eris said nothing as Azriel sobbed. Why kick the male when he’d already downed himself? So Eris stood and waited. Eventually Azriel looked up again, “Please, just let me talk to her.”

Eris paused, taking stock of the broken male before him.

Just when it appeared to Azriel that he’d deny him, Eris replied. “You are fortunate that your mate is far more benevolent than I, she has agreed to speak with you.”

Azriel let out a large, broken sigh of relief.

Eris only smirked. “But she has conditions.”

—————————

I don’t want to look back on these days, knowing all the things you’d never know if I never said a word and let you go.

“You don’t have to do this, Y/N.” Eris spoke softly.

“I do, Eris. What he did, it’s too much. Too far. If you weren’t the ruler that you are, this might have been treated as an act of war.”

Eris shook his head. “You’re right. What he did is not acceptable by any means. But you, you shouldn’t have to deal with this after all you’ve been through.”

“It’s the right thing to do.” She spoke firmly.

He pulled her in closely, resting his chin on her head, those warm arms wrapped tightly around her easing the bitter cold threatening to frost her heart. “He never deserved you.”

Eris knew a mask when he saw one. Knew them far too well. Beneath the strong exterior she was presenting, his brave girl was nervous as hell.

I don't want to steal you away or make you change the things that you believe.

Eris escorted Y/N to a large meeting space by a roaring fire, sitting her at the head of the table, he to her right. One with a lesser sense of hearing might have missed the increase of her heart rate. That mask beginning to slip.

“Look at me, minx.”

Her glassy eyes met his as he reached forward, his hands enveloping hers. “You owe nothing to anyone. Nobody. Not to the Night Court, to my Court, or even to the Summer Court beyond what Tarquin has contracted you to do, and you especially owe nothing to the Shadowsinger.”

Her lip quivered and he spared her the discomfort of replying right away by continuing, “If it is your choice to hear him out, I commend you. You are far more brave and strong than you realize, and the fact that you are giving him your time today is an act of kindness in itself. Do not feel that you are obligated to comfort him or give your forgiveness.”

Eris lightly placed a broad palm on her chest. “What’s in there points true. Follow your heart, little fox. Do not do or say anything for anyone’s benefit but your own.”

Eris gave her the time she needed to collect her thoughts. His thumb brushed soothing strokes over the back of her hand as she composed herself.

Her voice cracked only slightly when she asked, “Is what I’m doing wrong? Are my conditions too harsh?”

Eris took a moment. Her heart racing like the best of a hummingbird’s wings as she awaited his response. He didn’t want to steer her any particular direction. Obviously, he wanted her by his side. Hell, he needed her by his side, she was as essential as water to him at this point. But her happiness and well-being mattered more than his needs.

He didn’t want her to go back to the Night Court as he knew Azriel would try convincing her to do. A selfish part of him begged to take her hand and bow on his knees before her. He was at her will and would serve her for the rest of his days should she only ask. But she needed to make this choice for herself. She was a summer storm, his little fox, who was he to stop her from flowing whatever direction she willed its winds to take her.

So, he wouldn’t ask her to stay or think of him at all during this meeting with her mate. However, he would emphasize what she likely already knew, that he had already fallen in love with her. That he fell in love with her spirit the moment that filthy string of curses fell from her pretty mouth when they met that first day. He wouldn’t pressure her by speaking those words aloud just yet, but he could show her in the best way he knew how given the circumstances, by empowering her.

“Y/N,” he broke the silence. “I meant what I told you. What you are doing today is brave. You are strong. To face a male who has not earned your time or presence in front of his own family to hear out his side of things, or whatever it is he wishes to say - you are so much stronger than you realize. Do not worry about what he or anyone at this table will think or feel. You hear him out and you choose what is right for you. The only person owed anything today is you and what you’re owed is peace. You deserve the world, fox.”

Those shining eyes of hers welled up. He lifted her chin with a long finger, “No tears, little one. You go in there and you take your power back. I will be out there.” He nodded toward a corridor to the eastern wing of the keep. “If you need anything at all, I’ll be waiting for you.”

She placed a delicate hand on Eris’ muscled bicep. “Eris…”

“Yes, fox?”

“I don’t want to do this alone.”

I want to drink from the words you say and be everything you need.

The creak of an oak door captured their attention. A sentry entered the room, his steps echoing throughout. “High Lord, Lady, the guests are arriving.” The sentry looked to Eris, “along with the guest you personally requested.”

Y/N turned toward Eris, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Bring her in.” He replied to the sentry, turning to face Y/N. “I thought you may want someone in your corner for this meeting.”

————-

Camila, Y/N’s sister, burst through the door, all bronze skin, bouncing black curls, and smiles. “Sister!!!” She squealed.

Y/N looked to Eris. Immense gratitude radiating from her lovely face. He nodded toward Camila, gesturing to go to her. The sisters ran to eachother, nearly tackling one another to the floor.

Camila giggled, gasping as she fought to catch her breath. “I saw a red-headed male outside with long hair, gorgeous tan skin, a wicked smile, and-“ she whispered not-so-subtly in her sisters ear “worship worthy thighs, handcrafted by the gods themselves.” She dropped the whisper act, continuing, “Oh my gods, Y/N, and a scar over his eye! Giving him that sexy mysterious look that you only ever read about in smutty novels.”

Eris choked as he realized who she was talking about, capturing the attention of Camila. “If I’d known what you were hiding here, High Lord, I’d have ventured over from the Summer Court much sooner.”

“I hate to disappoint you, Camila, but Lucien lives in the Day Court when he’s not at his apartment in Velaris.”

Camila’s mouth dropped into an “O” as she realized who the male was. “Well, onto the next one then. Who else are you hiding around here for me to fall in love with?”

The laughter was broken when the Oak Door opened again, a sentry announcing the next guests. “the High Lord of the Night Court and his general.”

Darkness suddenly overtook the room, and an instinctual part of Y/N caused her to pale. She’d very rarely seen Rhysand’s darkness so adamant, and it was never a good thing. Cassian kept a straight, stoic face, warrior’s stance on full display. This male, this was the Lord of Bloodshed and not the lovable giant she’d known for decades.

She remained frozen, Camila gasping in horror before deciding that she’d rather stare daggers at the brothers of the male who cheated on her little sister. Rhysand took in the room, paying no mind to Camila’s violent glare. When he realized Azriel was not in the room, his eyes landed on Y/N and the darkness immediately faded away. Rhys’ expression softened as he directed his footsteps toward her, opening his mouth to speak, but it was Cassian who yelled, “Y/N babygirl! Look at you!”

The giant male bound right past Rhys, running to her. Leaving no time for Y/N to brace herself as he whisked her up into a bone crushing hug, spinning her in circles. “Fuck, I’ve missed you. Never leave without saying goodbye again.”

As soon as Cassian said it, he faltered, gently setting her back down with his eyes downcast. “I had no idea, Y/N. We only found out the real reason why you left yesterday.”

Eris gave distance to the trio so she could speak with the males, Camila coming to his side. Eris couldn’t help smirking at the glare she gave to the Night Court’s High Lord and Cassian. He leaned in to her ear, his low voice barely a rumble, “I’d never admit this to them but while they are brutes, they’re not so bad.”

Camila only scoffed, waiving a dismissive hand in his direction.

It was true. Rhysand had given her space to heal but regularly sent check-in’s to the Summer and Autumn Court High Lords to ensure her well-being. Both Tarquin and Eris had to swear not to tell her, but Rhysand had contributed significantly to Y/N’s extremely generous salary as emissary between the courts. She didn’t know what emissary’s typically made so she never thought about it, but it certainly was not the substantial amount that she was being paid.

Once Cassian was finished fawning over his “favorite little ass-kicker” Rhys stepped forward.

“Y/N” he said. Eyes roaming up and down her body. She was more filled in and fit than she had been when he last saw her, the radiance had returned to her skin, the light in her eyes shone bright as the stars of Velaris. Gods, he’d forgotten the way his brother’s mate rivaled even the most vibrant of summer sunsets.

She held her chin high, meeting her former High Lord’s violet gaze. Rhys pulled her close and she melted into his arms. Not just her former High Lord but her friend. She knew this. And the warmth of his strong arms embracing her reminded her of exactly that.

That stinging rejection of Azriel’s betrayal had somewhat tainted her view of the Inner Circle’s love for her. They had accepted her into their little family immediately when she and Azriel mated and she thought they’d dismiss her just as quickly when she left.

His breaking of what they had did not change that the inner circle cared for her. Rhys held her close for nearly a minute, burying his face into the top of her head, whispering how sorry he was for not realizing just how awry things had gone with Azriel and Elain. She felt guilty for leaving them.

“Don’t you for one moment regret this, Y/N. You will always have a place in my home but there are bigger things in this world for you.” He nodded toward Eris briefly with a cheeky expression that felt a lot like understanding, approval even.

She swatted at him. “Get out of my head, busybody.”

“It was written all over your face, darling.” He shrugged.

Cassian cut in. “We wanted to come in first to assess the situation. Everyone else is in the entry hall. Are you sure about this, Y/N? You don’t have to see him if you’re not ready.”

Darkness flared around Rhys again as he nodded in agreement.

She stepped to Eris’ side with renewed confidence. “I’m ready.”

Eris commanded his sentries. “Go ahead and bring them in.”

Resisting the urge to press a parting kiss to her forehead, he gave a reassuring brush of his hand against hers and began to step away.

She grabbed his wrist. “Please, stay.”

Her pleading eyes spoke what she couldn’t “I can’t do this without you.”

So, he stayed by her side as they waited for the impending shit show to unfold.

I could be so good at loving you, but only if you told me to.

————————————————-

Tags: @going-through-shit @kalulakunundrum @lisanna2000 @fxckmiup @sheblogs @emryb @one-big-fangirl @historygeekqueen @isa1b2h3 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @theravenphoenix26 @sidthedollface2 @i-am-infinite @caraaaaugh @evergreenlark @darkbloodsly @piceous21 @anxious-study @chessebookgirl @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @crazylokonugget @mysticalfuncollectorus @starsinyourseyes @b0xerdancer-writes @inloveallthetime @thegirlinshadows101 @viistrength @grunchwench @starryhiraeth @macimads @feiwelinchen @acourtofbatboydreams @nebarious @haechansleafblower @melsunshine @thegirlintheshadows101 @plsfckmern

#sarah j maas #acotar #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel shadowsinger #daddy eris #eris x reader #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra #acotar x hunter hayes #rainy season

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holidayinhell · 2 months ago

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CWs: threats of noncon, gunplay

“Put your hands up, you piece of shit.”

“Now Whumpee--”

“Quiet.” Whumpee snapped. “I’m not fucking around.”

Whumper took a step back, breaking his usual pattern of intimidation. He raised a brow inquisitively, his lips twitching to form an amused grin.

“Put your fucking hands up.” Whumpee repeated forcefully.

“Riiight…”

“Do it.” His grip tightened around the handle of the gun. “I'm not afraid to shoot you.”

“Really. You’re gonna kill me, Whumpee-boy?” The tall man half-chuckled. “That’ll be the day.”

The metallic click of the revolver’s hammer echoed in response.

Point taken.

“Ugh. You’re no fun.” Reluctantly, Whumper heeded Whumpee’s warning, sighing as he removed his hands from his oversized hoodie pocket, slowly lifting them above his head. For the first time during Whumpee’s captivity, his cruel smirk faltered.

“Give a coward a gun and suddenly they think they’re invincible.” The tall man grumbled under his breath. There was no way Whumpee would actually shoot him. He didn’t have the balls.

“Just shut up.”

“Ooh, scary.” Whumper taunted. He reeled his head back and spat in Whumpee’s direction, the wet splat landing only inches from the other's bare feet.

Whumpee’s eyes flicked up to meet Whumper��s, blazing furiously.

He inched closer to Whumper with careful, measured steps, keeping the barrel of the gun leveled steadily at the monster's chest.

“Woah woah woah. Easy tiger.” Whumper said playfully. He maintained the intense eye contact as he slowly lowered his hands back to his sides, palms facing out in a mock display of submission.

“Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” He chuckled, tucking his hands back into the oversized hoodie pocket.

“This isn’t a joke.” Whumpee warned. “Put your fucking hands up, or I’ll make you.”

“Naw.” The tall man said, drinking in Whumpee’s increasing agitation. His sadistic eyes glinted with challenge. “Guess you’ll have to make me.”

“I’ll end you right now. I mean it. Nothing would make me happier than watching you bleed out.” Whumpee clenched his jaw. “Killing you would be the easy route, though. Death is too good for you. It's not even a fraction of what you deserve. So for the last goddamn time, fucking listen to me.”

“Fucking listen to me,” Whumper repeated sarcastically, voice dripping with contempt. “You really know how to demand respect, Whumpee. I’m confused, are you gonna shoot me, or are ya gonna torture me? 'Cuz you’ve got me absolutely shitting my pants over here.”

Whumpee felt a surge of adrenaline, the weight of the confrontation pressing down on him as he struggled to maintain his composure.

“How ‘bout this, you trigger-happy little cunt,” Whumper said wickedly. “Give me the gun now, and I won’t fuck you with it later.”

The threat made Whumpee’s blood boil.

That’s it. Time for Whumper to die.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Whumpee took a step forward and planted the muzzle of the gun against Whumper’s temple. He squeezed the trigger.

The hammer flicked forward, eliciting an empty click.

The gun didn’t fire.

Time froze.

The dull sound echoed in the silence.

Whumpee couldn’t hear anything other than his heart thundering in his chest.

His wide eyes darted down to the revolver, disbelief written across his face. Panic flooded in.

A wide grin spread across Whumper’s chin as he removed a hand from his pocket. Six golden bullets rolled in the palm of his hand, glinting in the light. Whumper pinched one between his fingers, turning it over as he marveled at it.

“Surprised?”

With a flick of his wrist, he released the remaining five bullets from his palm. They cascaded to the concrete floor with five distinct clangs.

“If you’re gonna shoot someone, you might want to make sure the fucking gun is loaded.”

Whumpee froze in disbelief.

How could he have been so stupid?

He didn’t react when Whumper lunged at him, twisting the gun from his sweaty hands. He didn’t fight back when the cold metal smacked against his temple, heavy and sharp, sending him hurtling into the concrete, cracking his skull into the ground.

Everything went black. A trickle of blood flowed down his cheek.

Whumper towered over him, a victorious grin plastered across his face.

"I enjoyed your game, Whumpee. Let's play another."

He loaded the single bullet into the revolver, clicking the cylinder closed.

“You ever play Russian Roulette?”

((more Whump oneshots))

#whumpblr #whump writing #whump drabble #whump #tw: gunplay #tw: gun use #tw: gun violence #tw: guns

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its-avalon-08 · 5 months ago

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why did you leave me (cl16)

part5! BONUS SCENE - CHARLES'S BREAKUP

multipart story! prev || next

summary : charles and y/n have always been best friends. but y/n has been in love with him forever. when charles starts dating a new girl, out of respect y/n distances herself. but how much is too much?

✦ pairing - charles leclerc x female reader

The sun had set over Monaco, casting long shadows across Charles' apartment. The tension in the air was palpable as Charles paced back and forth, waiting for Camille to arrive. They needed to talk, and he knew it wasn't going to be easy.

When Camille finally walked through the door, Charles could immediately sense her irritation. She tossed her bag onto the couch and crossed her arms, glaring at him.

"What is it, Charles? Why did you want to talk?" Camille snapped, her tone dripping with annoyance.

Charles took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. "We need to discuss us, Camille. Things haven't been right between us for a while now."

"Oh, so now you notice?" Camille shot back, rolling her eyes. "It took you long enough."

"I've noticed, Camille. But I've also noticed how you've been treating Y/N," Charles said, his voice rising slightly. "And it's not okay."

Camille's eyes narrowed. "Y/N? This is about Y/N? Of course, it is. You're always so concerned about her. Maybe if you spent half as much time worrying about our relationship as you do about her, we wouldn’t be having this conversation."

"Y/N is my best friend," Charles retorted, his anger bubbling up. "And you’ve been nothing but hostile towards her."

"Best friend?" Camille scoffed. "More like the other woman. She’s always around, always in your life. It’s pathetic, Charles."

"Stop it, Camille," Charles warned, his voice cold. "Y/N has done nothing to deserve your insults."

"She’s a meddling little bitch," Camille spat, her face twisted with contempt. "Always trying to come between us. No wonder she doesn't have anyone else. She's just a lonely, desperate girl who can't stand to see us happy."

Charles felt his blood boil. "That's enough, Camille. Y/N is not the problem here. You are."

"Me?" Camille laughed bitterly. "You’re blaming me for everything now? Maybe if you weren't so obsessed with Y/N, we’d still be happy."

"We were never fucking happy," Charles shouted, his frustration boiling over. "Not really anyway. And now I see why. All you wanted was to attend those fancy lunches and parties, take pictures for your godforsaken social media and you never had time for me. Just me. "

Charles took a deep breath, trying to keep his anger in check. "Y/N isn't even around that much anymore, Camille. How can you still make her out to be the villain in all of this?"

Camille's eyes gleamed with a sadistic satisfaction as she leaned in closer. "Because even when she's not around, she's all you ever think about. Face it, Charles, she's the ghost that haunts our relationship, and you're too blind to see it."

"Well, let me make it clear for you. I’ve been seeing someone else. For months now. Because I couldn't stand being second to your precious Y/N," Camille sneered.

Charles felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him. "You what?" he whispered, the betrayal cutting deep.

"That’s right," Camille said, a twisted smile on her face. "I’ve been cheating on you. And guess what? I’m leaving you for him. You can have your little friend all to yourself."

Charles clenched his fists, trying to control his anger. "Get out," he said through gritted teeth. "Get the fuck out of my apartment."

"Gladly," Camille retorted, grabbing her bag. "Good luck with your perfect little Y/N. You’re going to need it."

As she stormed out, slamming the door behind her, Charles sank onto the couch, his mind reeling. The room was silent except for the sound of his ragged breathing. He felt a mix of rage, betrayal, and overwhelming sadness.

Charles picked up his phone, his hands trembling. He wanted to call Y/N, to hear her voice, but he knew it wouldn't be fair to drag her into this mess. She had left him, his best friend was gone, his girlfriend had cheated on him and he was so utterly alone. He stared at the screen, lost in a sea of emotions.

Finally, he whispered to himself, "I have no one."

As the night wore on, Charles realized that he had to make things right. Not just with Y/N, but with himself. He had to face his feelings, confront the pain, and find a way to move forward. And he knew, deep down, that Y/N was the only person who could help him do that.

taglist : @hiireadstuff @starz4me1 @f1fantasys @aundercoverosh @ohthemisssery @ggaslyp1 @hadids-world @matcha---matcha @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @timmychalametsstufff @janeh22 @ironmaiden13133 @majusialikesfastcarss @sunnytkm23

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles lecrelc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x female!reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #y/n #best friends #ava speaks #charles leclerc fanfic

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dawnbreakerluna · 5 months ago

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What Zayne notices first thing when it comes to Sylus is that he’s shameless, much to his own chagrin. But besides that, he’s incredibly forward and intelligent enough to assess a situation. Especially the ones involving you, regarding your safety and well-being. Though there’s moments where you speak of Sylus with contempt in your voice and a furrowed brow, Zayne has known you long enough to see through you when you’re feeling intense emotions. He sees through the irritation in your expression that your heart stirs in care and concern for Sylus, equally so. He’s a reliable companion. And with what Zayne knows, he’s never foreseen this man who holds the power over his own stomping grounds – regrettably regarded as a wasteland when it deserved to be anything but. Sylus is an anomaly he knows nothing about, and he can’t seem to wrap his head around why. Regardless… after some deep thought—he wouldn’t mind if it’s Sylus who accompanies you until the end of time. If he’s someone that you trust, someone that you deeply care about (against your own beliefs)—then Zayne wouldn’t have it any other way. Yet, he can’t help but get the feeling that he himself and his other lives aren’t going to be the only ones to defy fate for your sake...

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lynbichiots · 3 months ago

Text

𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬!

pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader

tw: hate sex, abuse of power, manipulation, shower sex (stimulates you with the showerhead), dirty talk, spanking, dehumanization, (incorrect use of curses), sadism, misogyny, light choking, age gap of 21 (reader) and 28 (Satoru), (reader has 0 survival instincts)

wc: 7,1k

The night fell heavy, laden with a dense air that barely left room to breathe. The shadowy streets stretched toward the horizon, but Satoru's footsteps echoed with a steady rhythm, each one soaked in a restrained anger that had matured over time. Under the waning moon, his silhouette cast dark shadows that seemed to take on a life of their own. As a special grade sorcerer, his power over curses was beyond imagination.

And you… you had awakened his wrath.

Two months had passed since a special grade curse had taken the life of his best friend without mercy, and now he had been assigned a special task: to watch over the person who had unleashed that curse.

You.

You were the one who had killed his best friend.

And the most sinister part?

You didn’t even realize it. You did it just for fun.

Sighing in exhaustion, his heart heavy, Satoru straightened up, momentarily closing his eyes as he tilted his face toward the sky where the moonlight was kind to him, illuminating his face. Halloween night wrapped the city in a shroud of shadowy mystery. The lights from jack-o’-lanterns lit his path, casting dancing figures on the walls of the buildings.

The laughter of costumed children echoed like an enchanted chorus across the sidewalk, but even their joy couldn’t calm the storm that raged within Satoru.

As he opened his eyes and took one last glance at the sidewalk, his teeth clenched in fury as new curses emerged from unexpected places, embedding themselves in the small bodies, oblivious to the demonic entities. Each laugh, each joyful scream, was a dagger stabbing deeper into his resentful heart.

Seconds passed, and with them, new curses sprouted, one after another, like cockroaches crawling out of the sewers, infesting everything in their path.

And all of them, provoked by you.

He knew it.

He could see you, smell you, and sense you from miles away. Thanks to his six eyes, which burned with unquenchable hatred in your direction.

He could feel your energy expanding like pheromones in the air, trapping him without escape despite his resistance to your charms. Each beat of his heart was a reminder of the betrayal, of the darkness that consumed him.

Satoru, the embittered villain who swore he wouldn’t rest until he saw you fall, until every curse you had unleashed was repaid in full. His obsession with revenge had transformed him into a shadow of what he once was, a being whose only purpose was to see you suffer.

A few weeks before Suguru’s tragic death, the two friends had shared a secret conversation, filled with topics so dangerous that they could have been executed or silenced by the higher-ups. Being the strongest had led them to question why they practiced sorcery. In those moments of confidence, Satoru revealed the depth of his hatred, a hatred that had grown over years of feeling used and betrayed.

They were always seen as monsters, weapons meant to protect the defenseless souls of humans. But why should they, when the world was full of humans like you? Humans who, in their eyes, deserved nothing but contempt.

To Satoru, all humans were cursed, sinful apes.

And he wanted to exterminate them all.

You were first on his list.

With his long arms reaching towards the sky, Satoru closed his eyes one last time, letting out a breath as he stretched. Every muscle in his body tensed and then relaxed, releasing his pent-up fury. A satisfied smile spread across his face as his eyes focused on the distant house at the top of the last mountain in Weverpoond.

There, in the distance, he saw you.

His gaze filled with a dark determination, a silent promise made the moment he met you, and his hatred turned into obsession.

Resuming his steps with a twisted joy, Satoru crushed each of the curses in his path, swallowing them and making them disappear instantly, his eyes locked on your figure as you sat on the black carpet of your room.

He watched you, completely mesmerized, his mind focused on a single purpose:

Revenge.

•

"Come on!" you laugh with a mix of defiance and nervousness, rolling your eyes and bringing your index finger to your chin, tapping it lightly as you slowly make your way toward the shelf filled with stuffed animals from your childhood. "I know you're here, stop hiding."

Without taking your eyes off the shelf, you furrow your brows in a mix of frustration and confusion, glancing sideways at the black wooden board lying on the floor. The small quartz triangle remains motionless, and with a contained fury, you return your gaze to your stuffed animals.

"If you don't show yourself by the count of three," you say with a trembling but firm voice, biting your lower lip to hold back the laughter bubbling in your chest, "I'll say goodbye tonight and won’t play again until tomorrow."

The threat hangs in the air, thick and palpable, but not a single curse stirs.

Feeling disheartened and disappointed, you complain with annoyance and begin to count.

"One...”

Nothing.

"Two..."

The wind howls and wails, filling the quiet room with an unsettling noise.

"Don't make me reach the end," you whisper with desperation, holding your third finger with your thumb, giving the curse one last chance to appear. But seeing nothing, you exhale in defeat, feeling your hope fade into the darkness of the night.

Silence took over your room, interrupted only by the whispering wind that seemed to mock your frustration. You remain still, your gaze fixed on the stuffed animals, waiting for movement, a sign, anything to break the tension squeezing your chest.

Suddenly, a faint creak broke the stillness, and your eyes widened with a mix of excitement and terror as your heart began to pound. The sound came from the black wooden board on the floor, and you quickly ran toward it, freezing as you witnessed the scene unfolding at your feet.

The small quartz triangle began moving rapidly, tracing letter by letter to form a sentence. Your eyes anxiously followed its movements, and you nervously swallowed as the triangle slowed down, finally completing the sentence.

“Be careful, he’s watching you.”

You shivered.

“Who?” you murmured, feeling a spark of excitement as a chill ran down your spine.

The triangle pointed to the letter “S” and then stopped. You cracked your fingers in anticipation and raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms in boredom. You stared at the Ouija board for a few seconds, and nothing happened. You even leaned toward it, letting the cool October air brush against your bare thighs under your short skirt.

With the wood and quartz in your hands, you examined them closely, searching for any imperfections but finding none. Everything seemed to be in perfect condition, but an idea crossed your mind, and an ironic smile formed on your lips as you let out a scoff.

"You’re messing with me," you muttered, directing your gaze toward your stuffed animals. You squinted, watching for any movement, any sign of life in those inanimate toys. "Come on, it’s Halloween. Don’t make me think there aren’t spirits in every corner of the house."

The silence grows heavy, and you wait, but nothing happens.

Pouting, you glance back at your Ouija board, hoping for some response, some hint of the supernatural. But the board remains still, inert. Frustration wells up inside you, and you're about to throw the Ouija out of sight when, suddenly, a dull thud behind you paralyzes you.

You quickly turn your head toward the shelf, and there, on the floor, is one of your favorite stuffed animals. The old bear, Berry, with its missing eye, stares at you from its position on the ground. A chill runs down your spine as you drop the Ouija onto your startled feet. You blink, your lips parting, and your tongue feels heavy and dry in your mouth. Swallowing with difficulty, you straighten up, sensing an ominous air, different from the curses you invoke every night.

With determination, you ignore the fallen Ouija and step toward the affected stuffed bear. Each step you take toward the bear echoes in the room, and with them, you feel a thousand eyes following your every move.

As you pick up the bear, a more intense chill runs down your spine, as if an invisible presence were watching you. The atmosphere thickens, charged with a palpable tension that makes you want to vomit.

With the bear in hand, you feel trapped in a macabre game, where every shadow and every sound seems to conspire against you. Reality and the supernatural intertwine, and for a moment, you doubt your own sanity.

You spin around abruptly, but see no one. The room seems empty, the only thing moving behind you are the sheer purple curtains, stirred by the breeze from outside. With determined steps, you rush to close the windows, feeling the hairs on your body stand up in fear. With the window now shut, you feel a little calmer, but the sensation of being watched doesn’t go away.

“Who’s there?” you ask with a trembling voice, trying to keep calm.

You scan every corner of your room, leaving no spot unchecked. You see nothing, but fear still pulses through your veins like a poison without an antidote.

The sensation of being watched lingers, and a shadow in the corner of the room seems to move with every blink.

Perhaps you’ve already gone mad. A side effect of playing with spirits.

Silence is your only response. Your room feels cold, though no cool air is circulating inside. You close your eyes, trying to let it go, and once again, you bend down to where the Ouija board lies on the floor. The black, fluffy carpet tickles your legs as your fingers quickly move to close the game.

When it’s finally over, you breathe a little easier.

You sit, chest heaving, trying to calm your breath. Suddenly, the silence is broken when the record player on the small table near the window begins to spin, emitting an eerie crackle before the song Run, Rabbit! Run fills your room ominously. The sound seems to wrap around every corner, making the air feel heavier, thick with mystery.

Your eyes snap open and your heart pounds, stuck in your throat as you slowly rise, your eyes fixed on the record player. Every step you take toward it resonates in the silence, as if the house itself were the only thing listening.

With trembling hands, you try to turn off the record player, but the task is impossible. A broken whimper escapes your throat in anguish, and in your fear, you end up smashing the player. But to your horror, the melody continues, growing louder as if the lyrics are offering you the solution to this horrific mess that’s driving you mad and making you want to wet your panties.

Desperate and with your body turned to jelly, you clench your fingers together into a tight fist and begin pounding on the broken device. Yet, none of it helps, and you only succeed in hurting your hand, drawing blood, while the song keeps playing, making your eyes well up with tears.

Biting your lips and backing away from the record player, you take a few steps back until a playful laugh brushes against your right ear, prickling your skin. Your eyes widen in terror and you scream, spinning quickly in the direction of the laugh.

But when you turn, there’s nothing there again, and this time, you’re truly frightened, knowing that whatever is causing the disturbance is not a simple curse like the ones you’re used to.

So, with your mouth dry and fear gripping your voice...

You speak.

“Who’s there?” you repeat, this time in a firmer tone, though the tremor in your voice is still evident.

You turn slowly on your heels, scanning every dark corner of your room with wide eyes, stopping abruptly when you see a shadow dart past. You blink, squinting to focus on the figure, but fail, as the fast-moving entity disappears from your view again.

Then, it passes right in front of your nose, and when you turn your head, your hands tremble, for there is nothing. Fear mixes with a strange sense of curiosity that makes you break out in a cold sweat.

Snapping out of your mind, your senses return, allowing you to hear and pay attention once more to your surroundings, where you realize that the song is still playing, repeating over and over. Frustrated and with fear buried deep in your chest, you approach the record player again, and just as you’re about to touch it, the music stops abruptly, leaving an unsettling echo in the air.

Staring blankly at the ruined player, your shoulders sag with less tension in your body, and your lungs fill with air again. But as soon as that feeling of relief arrives, it vanishes when you feel a cold breeze on the back of your neck, as if someone were breathing behind you.

You spin around quickly, but once again, find nothing behind you, only the oppressive sensation of being watched by millions of eyes that burn painfully against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“T-This...” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “It’s not fun anymore.”

Silence is your only answer. The room, now plunged into an eerie twilight, seems to take on a life of its own, a life that threatens to swallow you whole, leaving nothing but your bones behind.

Finally, accepting your fate, you realize that you’re not alone, and whatever you summoned with the Ouija board is still here, lurking in the shadows.

Or maybe...

Your mind flashes images from the past few weeks, where you’ve encountered that man more times than you’d like to admit; they no longer even seem like coincidences. His appearances had become borderline stalking. But no, there was no way that mysterious man could be some kind of weird stalker.

He’s far too handsome for that.

Returning to the present, you reach one of your hands to the back of your neck, which still tingles from the entity’s breath, and scratch it hard. Nothing answers your pleas, and with your heart pounding wildly in your chest, you decide to leave your room to take a breather and try to ignore your new curse.

Your legs tremble with fear, but you force yourself to move forward. Your hands reach for the doorknob, which slips due to the sweat covering them, but you manage to open the door and stumble out of your room. Finally in the hallway, you walk towards the bathroom just a few doors away, each step echoing through the silent house as you head for the last door at the end of the hall, hoping to find some refuge in the familiarity of hot water.

Standing before your goal, your hands tremble again, but you manage to open the door. As you enter, you close your eyes for a moment, sighing with relief, though the invisible eyes still make you shiver with fear.

At this point, you’re unsure if you’re imagining things.

It’s not as if you could confirm you weren’t crazy—your skin burns from the sensation of a hateful gaze over your entire body, a gaze that multiplies several times, leaving a pair of eyes watching every move you make, ready to turn into fangs that would swallow you whole if you took a wrong step.

Finally opening your eyes, you let your fear subside just a little as you approach the large pearl-colored tub in the center of the bathroom. Your fingers brush against the golden taps, and with a subtle motion, you turn them both, letting cold and hot water slowly fill the tub where, after washing your body, you plan to relax for a while.

The sound of water flowing provides a moment of calm, and without further thought, you head to the shower just a few steps away from the cold porcelain beneath you. Inside the glass enclosure surrounding the shower, you find yourself silently wishing that when you turn on the faucet, the water will wash away not just the cold sweat clinging to your skin, but also the fear gripping you.

With one final, shaky sigh, you quickly strip off your clothes and step under the showerhead, placing it against the wall above your head. The hot water envelops you, relaxing your tense muscles, and for a brief moment, you allow yourself to close your eyes, letting the steam wrap around you like a blanket.

But then, a dull noise echoes inside the bathroom, causing your eyes to snap open. Breathless, your gaze darts around, struggling to focus on anything through the steam.

Until, amidst the artificial mist, you see something. And when you do, the urge to cry has never been stronger. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, your legs buckle, and you cling desperately to the bathroom tiles in a pathetic attempt to find comfort.

You hesitate to blink, afraid that if you do, the entity will disappear. But even so, you blink involuntarily, and when you see nothing has changed, you remain frozen in place, staring into the fogged-up bathroom mirror, where a large, blurry figure stands behind you.

You turn your head quickly, but no one is there.

Fear grips you once again, and you feel the air grow heavier. The figure in the mirror fades, but the sensation of being watched intensifies.

With your heart pounding loudly in your ears and your pulse racing, you hurry to finish your shower, knowing even the water offers no comfort. But despite the lack of comfort, you’re terrified to leave the one place where the entity hasn’t fully manifested.

The water runs down your body, turning cold as the seconds pass. You realize you’re not alone, and whatever you’ve summoned has no intention of leaving you in peace.

The room, now shrouded in unsettling gloom, seems to take on a life of its own. Shadows in the corners shift with every blink, and the water in the tub continues to fill, nearing the point of overflowing. The sound of water falling onto you mingles with the frantic beating of your heart.

However, you can’t shake the feeling that someone else is in the room with you, watching from the shadows like a predator, waiting for the right moment to reveal themselves.

The silence becomes oppressive, each passing second heightening the sensation of thousands of eyes on you. You turn slowly, scanning every corner of the room, hoping for a logical explanation. But logic seems to have abandoned this place.

Suddenly, a barely audible whisper breaks the silence, sinking your stomach. You can’t make out the words, but the tone is unmistakable: someone is there, and they’re speaking to you. This time, fear takes hold of you with no intention of letting go.

“Is s-someone there?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

The whisper stops, and for a moment, everything falls into absolute silence, allowing you to take one last breath. Then, you feel a presence behind you, and you know you’re done for—a large, strong shadow looms over your back, grabbing both your hands and pressing them against the cold tiles on either side of your head. You try to turn your face to the side, but your body won’t respond, as if you’ve gone into shock, leaving you paralyzed.

You’ve never encountered a curse this strong, let alone one that could physically touch you.

Sure, a few weeks ago, you released Sukuna, but even he couldn’t touch you or do anything against you.

This was new, and it scared you.

But before you could process what was happening, he sifted through your memories, and a spark of curiosity surged through you, making the blood in your body flow with more force, tinged with excitement.

“Hmmm, riddle me this,” you say mockingly, closing your eyes, still feeling his cold skin against yours. Those unmistakable blue eyes ran nostalgically through your mind with every furrowed line. “Are you who I think you are?”

The room seems to breathe with you, every corner filled with a palpable tension. And then, you open your eyes, and finally, you see him.

It’s that man.

His tall, ominous figure barely visible in the shadows. His terrifying eyes glow with a strange light, and an enigmatic smile spreads across his face, followed by a low chuckle as he presses his body closer to yours.

“Smart girl. I’ve been watching you,” he says, his voice soft and melodic, yet laced with an implicit threat.

His rough fingers massage your hands, and his mouth descends on your exposed neck, sinking his teeth into your pulse, making you scream. Your body jerks involuntarily as his hot tongue laps at the wounded spot, and you sigh when his lips brush against your ear as he speaks in a low voice, “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

His body trembles against yours, as if holding back thousands of years of frustration. His erratic breath falls on your ear, and you swallow a gasp as you feel his bulge pressing against your bare buttocks.

“Why?” you ask, trying to stay calm.

He pulls away from your neck, where he had found a comfortable spot, and his blue eyes lock onto yours, hypnotizing you. Seeing the effect he has on you, he smiles—a smile both comforting and terrifying.

“I just want to play,” he replies, and with one hand, he gathers both your wrists, pinning them above your head, while his free hand begins to playfully trace your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse as you inhale sharply, doubting everything.

You look at him with fear, and his smile widens. His face lowers toward yours, and his sweet breath brushes your lips. “Will you play with me?”

He pressed his body even closer to yours, and his hand tightened around your neck. Your eyes widened, staring at him in terror as his eyes scanned your face with a mixture of interest and frustration. His smile grew more enigmatic, with a hint of frustration, making it harder for you to breathe.

“Play?” you repeat with effort, barely able to draw in the little air left in your lungs. You close one eye in discomfort from the choking, trying to understand his intentions.

“Yes, play,” he replies, his voice soft but filled with restrained emotion, as he releases your neck and moves his hand away from the affected area.

You lower your head, gasping for breath, careful not to let the water still running down your body enter your nose. You stay still, unsure how to respond.

“Why are you doing this?” you ask, trying to remain calm. “I don’t even know you. What is it that you really want?”

The figure lets out a low, almost mocking laugh, and his eyes narrow as something dark flickers through them.

“I want many things from you,” he says, his tone shifting from the hatred it once held to something more seductive. “But first…” His thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple hard, and you gasp, feeling his lips once again on your neck. “I want you to pay attention to me.”

A shiver runs down your spine. There’s something in his voice that both draws you in and terrifies you at the same time.

He takes a step back, his expression shifting to one of mild irritation.

“It’s not that difficult, you know?” he says, his tone now more serious. His hand strokes your stomach, moving lower until it reaches your mound. His fingertips begin to tease the area, while his lips place soft kisses along your collarbones, and you moan, unable to move your body. “I just want you to answer a few questions. Nothing complicated. I know you already know the answers.”

Dizzy in an inexplicable way, you stop paying attention to his words, focusing instead on the way his fingers feel so close to your heat. You realize you’re playing a dangerous game, one where the rules aren’t clear.

But there’s something in his gaze that captivates you, something that makes you want to know more about him.

You must have definitely lost your mind.

“And if I don’t want to play?” you ask, challenging him.

He smiles, and his eyes gleam. But this time, his smile is colder, more calculated, and finally, he lets you see the hatred and rage that he can no longer hide.

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” he replies, his voice low and threatening, as his thumb begins to circle your clit. “Because you’re already in the game, whether you like it or not.”

With those words, and locking eyes with him, you know there’s no way out.

But it wasn’t like you were really looking for one.

That was your biggest mistake.

You really should have run when you had the chance.

_______

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

You screamed one last time before another slap landed on your already red and bleeding buttocks. Your voice was just a whisper after so much time spent crying out. Still in the shower, the water had stopped long ago, and your arms remained pinned to the tiles, held by shapeless dark curses that burned your skin, while Satoru continued punishing you for your recklessness.

You wanted to protest and hate him, but that was impossible. After all, you were the one who freed Sukuna.

Sukuna killed his best friend, and now, Satoru was determined to make you pay for it.

“Did you think you could pull that shit without consequences?” His voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed in your ears like thunder. Satoru’s eyes, cold as steel, were fixed on you, and in that moment, you knew there was no escape.

“It wasn’t personal,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him, but you knew it was a lie.

You had unleashed those curses out of curiosity, for fun, and the chaos they caused had taken lives, left irreparable scars. Satoru had witnessed it all, and now he was here to balance the scales.

“It wasn’t personal…” Satoru repeated, a bitter smile curving his lips. His cold hands began to knead your wounded buttocks, and you hissed in pain, pressing your cheek against the tile in front of you.

Suddenly, his hand moved down to your sex and began rubbing it slowly, bringing you pleasure. His calloused fingers expertly found every spot you liked, as if he already knew where they were.

“Do you feel that?” His voice was low, almost calm. You glanced in his direction and let a tear of frustration fall when something flickered in his eyes, momentarily erasing the hatred there. Then, with a tense blink, he clenched his jaw and slapped your heat as punishment, leaning into your ear to whisper, “That desperation and pain are nothing compared to what Suguru suffered.”

The pain coursed through you like an electric current. It was as if every shadow, every creature you had summoned, was claiming a piece of you, hungry for vengeance over your betrayal. You could feel them, an unbearable weight crushing your body and soul, whispering promises of destruction in your mind, while their master tormented you sexually.

“Did Sukuna also torture Suguru sexually?” you laughed tiredly, smiling triumphantly inside when you saw Satoru tense. “If so, I don’t think he suffered as much as you’re making it seem.” A pout crossed your face. “I could even admit that he probably enjoyed it.”

The bathroom fell silent, the only sound being the water droplets falling from your body onto the slippery floor. Your gaze remained locked on Satoru’s, your neck beginning to ache from the uncomfortable position you forced yourself into just to connect with his eyes. His eyes, full of frustration, shimmered with the reflection of hurt tears.

You immediately regretted what you said, but the apology forming on your tongue had no chance to escape. Satoru’s hand shot out in fury, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking it harshly, arching your back. Your hips jerked upward, and your neck strained painfully from the forced stretch.

A moan escaped your lips as you felt his heavy erection press against your heat. His hips moved with force, making his presence undeniable. Even with one hand pulling your hair, his free hand gripped your jaw roughly, his thumb brushing over your lips before he crashed his mouth onto yours in a messy kiss.

And when you tried to keep up with his disordered kiss, an unbearable pain erupted in the soft flesh of your mouth.

The sharp pain of his teeth sinking into your lip shook you like an electric shock. Satoru pulled back just enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath but not enough to free you from his hold. The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, a blend of pain and desire that confused you even more.

In the darkness, his eyes gleamed with a mix of challenge and something darker, something you couldn’t quite decipher.

You could have pulled away, could have tried to escape, but deep down, you knew it would be useless. Satoru had you exactly where he wanted, and every move he made seemed designed to destabilize you even further. You stayed still, your breathing uneven as you struggled to regain control of your thoughts.

“Owww,” his long fingers tangled in your hair, pulling with the intent to leave pain in their wake, waiting for your response to his questions. “Does it hurt?”

He whispered against your skin, his voice laced with cruel softness. The question seemed sincere, but behind it, you sensed a twisted satisfaction, as if he was savoring every second of your confusion.

You didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. You forced yourself to swallow the pain and keep your gaze fixed on his. “I’ve felt worse,” you replied, your voice coming out more firm than you expected.

Satoru let out a low chuckle, barely a murmur escaping his lips as he locked his eyes on you again. “I hope so,” he replied, as he ran a finger over the spot where he had bitten you, lovingly wiping away the blood with an unsettling calm. “Because this is far from over.”

The tension between you was palpable, like a tight rope that could snap at any moment. And though part of you felt the urgency to act, to do something to regain control, another part of you recognized that he was playing a far more complex game than you had anticipated.

Your body still trembled under the weight of his proximity, but you forced yourself to stay calm.

“You’re filthy, pet,” a smile tugged at the corners of Satoru’s lips. Then, without another word, he stepped away from you, allowing the invisible curses on your arms to tighten their grip, bruising your skin. “I need to clean you off so I don’t dirty myself by touching a filthy monkey like you.”

“What are you—”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and your legs buckled. If they hadn’t been held in place by two curses beneath them, you were sure you would have collapsed onto the floor. A moan escaped your lips, and you bit them to stop your traitorous mouth from betraying you.

Pleasure surged through you as you felt two of Satoru’s fingers spread the lips of your sex, giving it a judgmental look. His lips clicked together in disapproval. You lifted your head and glanced at him over your shoulder, shuddering when you realized he had already been waiting for your gaze. With a cruel smile, he gave a teasing flick to your clit, making you squeeze your eyes shut as you lost control.

“How pathetic,” he said, his thumb quickly massaging the swollen nub, followed by a sadistic chuckle echoing through the empty bathroom.

Before you could respond to his insult, your toes curled, and your hands clenched into fists when the showerhead above you was ripped from its place and positioned over your clit, releasing a strong, warm stream of water onto it.

You were left weak and speechless as small moans betrayed you, escaping your lips.

“Mmm, just like that, good girl,” Satoru said, his voice filled with more mockery than anything else. His eyes gleamed with amusement that made you want to growl. But then, he lifted the showerhead again and aimed it directly between your legs, silencing all the protests in your mind as the stream of water hit your clit once more.

“Ahh… shit,” you groaned in frustration, incoherently screaming as you tried to cling to the slippery tiles, your hands grasping at nothing.

“Wait, please!” The water beat against your sex mercilessly, the pressure so intense it was about to numb and burn your skin alive.

But then, Satoru started moving the showerhead in small circles, massaging your clit from all angles, and the pain quickly transformed into pleasure, making you grit your teeth in frustration.

Somehow, he made you feel dirty and unworthy, made you wonder if you truly were a horrible human being like he had told you so many times. After thinking about it for a while, with your mind turned to mush from the pleasure, a few tears escaped, falling onto the floor, mixing with the water that was spreading across the room.

Satoru, seeing your pitiful state, paused for a moment, allowing you to breathe again. The two of you exchanged glances, with thousands of emotions swirling in your hearts—emotions and feelings neither of you were willing to let out.

But unlike you, Satoru wasn’t swayed by the fleeting connections of a single night.

He had come seeking revenge, and he wasn’t going to leave your bathroom until he got it.

So, pushing his left hand between your folds once again, he tugged at your clitoral hood, exposing the sensitive tip. With one last look of pity in your direction, the water fell onto the exposed spot, and a tremor ran through your entire body, igniting your nerves as if you were being electrocuted.

Your scream echoed in the bathroom, followed by Satoru’s delighted laughter.

“Stop!” you sobbed, shaking your head frantically as you involuntarily tried to spread your legs wider and raise your hips. With shame coursing through your entire being, one last plea left your lips, with nothing left to lose. “Stop, it’s too much, too much…”

Satoru didn’t respond, and you couldn’t open your eyes enough to see his expression. For some reason, the pleasure flooding your body made your eyelids contract, preventing you from keeping them open.

Your mouth hung open, letting gasps and cries escape without shame, blending with Satoru’s satisfied laughter as he continued to stimulate you from behind. Soon, the showerhead wasn’t the only thing stimulating you, as his thumb returned to your abused clit, rubbing it slowly, mixing pain and pleasure in a confusing swirl.

“Please…”

“Please what?” The water stopped falling onto your swollen heat, and relief washed over you.

Your heavy tongue worked hard to answer Satoru’s question, but the words struggled to form in your mind. Still, he noticed your effort, and with an exasperated eye roll, he released the curses from your body, causing you to collapse onto the cold floor like a rag doll.

From your pathetic position, lying on the cold tiles of your bathroom, Satoru made you turn to face him. Your tired eyelids opened, and for the first time that night, you could see him clearly.

It was a sin for someone so twisted to possess such a beautiful face.

His white hair clung to his fine, delicate face, and his unique eyes stared at you, filled with a whirlwind of emotions. But you didn’t pay attention to the details. You just wanted this torture to end. You didn’t even care if he killed you.

You just wanted to be free of his control.

“Finish this,” your naked body, compared to his fully dressed and imposing figure in his rolled-up black shirt and black dress pants, only highlighted the power imbalance between you two.

Satoru didn’t respond to your request. Instead, with adoration in his features, he ran his hands over your weak body, his fingers trembling as he held back from breaking you. You gasped at his touch, too corrupted to care about how sick the situation was.

“Do you want me to finish this, pet?” His hand moved up to your cheek, caressing it the way a master would pet their favorite dog, and you simply leaned into his touch, lovingly pressing your cheek into his palm, smiling softly in response.

“Yes…” you swallowed when his fingers wrapped around the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you up and pressing your face to his. Frustration was all that filled his eyes, while in yours, there was only one word.

“Mercy”

His fist tightened in your hair, and with a curse slipping from his lips, he pulled you toward him, kissing you fervently. Each time his lips clashed desperately with yours, he made sure you felt, in every kiss, just how much he hated you, how much he despised you for making him obsess over you when you were the one person in the world he was supposed to hate until the end.

When you returned the kiss with the same intensity, crossing your hands behind his neck, Satoru let out a desperate moan against your lips. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to his body as he stole your soul with his kiss.

Both of you became a mess, you pulling on his hair in desperation, drowning in the kiss, while he clawed at your body, clinging to it as if he might die the moment he let go.

“I hate you,” he whispered against your lips, and you smiled.

“I know,” you said, looking at him, stroking his cheek, planting one last kiss on his swollen lips.

You closed your eyes when you felt his teeth sink into your already wounded mouth, but you accepted it all, even as you bit him back, and both of you began to kiss again, tasting each other’s mixed blood.

Then, the situation shifted completely.

You gasped when you felt your chest touch the cold tiles of your bathroom. You couldn’t explain or analyze the moment Satoru had you on all fours, your upper body collapsed while your buttocks were left exposed to his intentions.

Feeling exposed and with your cheeks flushed, you tried to lift yourself onto your arms, but his foot on your cheek stopped you.

With his long leg stretched out, Satoru smiled in satisfaction from behind you, pleased that he didn’t need curses to have you at his mercy. And the last warning he gave of what was to come was the sound of his belt buckle being unfastened.

“You’re so fucking perfect, pet,” he said, and without another word, he fully entered your heat, making you scream from the brutal stretch.

“Aghhh… wait!” your voice broke, and you frowned as his foot pressed harder into your cheek, leaving a dirty imprint before he stepped away and returned to a comfortable position.

To your misfortune, Satoru being comfortable behind you only made his massive erection bury itself completely inside you, bringing tears to your eyes.

“Shit…” Satoru let out a growl of pleasure, his hands intertwining with yours, stretching your arms out in front of you still pressed to the floor, your buttocks in the air being pounded fiercely, the sound of slapping the only melody within the four walls enclosing you—“So fucking perfect, pet.”

“Satoru…” your mouth could only release the albino’s name, mixed with your ragged moans each time the man thrust into you hard, intent on causing pain.

“Yes, pet?”

His hands released yours, and you clenched your fists as he assumed a new position.

Everything was wrong. Everything was incorrect.

Both of you were breaking your own moral codes for each other.

And still, neither of you cared.

His arm coiled around your neck, choking you, while his free hand began to stroke your wet hair lovingly, giving you light slaps on the face whenever you closed your eyes. With his free hand, he held your chin, forcing you to look at him, and with all your attention on him, he shoved three of his fingers into your mouth, invading the small space without permission, making you gag as his thrusts became faster.

Each of his thrusts was a painful punishment you received with pleasure.

Oh, both of you were so fucked up.

Your moans and gasps were muffled by his hand in your mouth, while his loud, unabashed moans echoed throughout the bathroom, especially in your ear, which he nibbled whenever he felt like he was losing control over you.

“Nghhh,” you closed your eyes before they could even roll back, feeling everything you couldn’t express coming all at once.

“Owww,” his fingers left your mouth to give you a slap, forcing you to look at him. When you did, Satoru began to stroke your hair lovingly, the mockery evident in his words—“Are you gonna come, pet?”

“Mmmhm,” you nodded eagerly as his thrusts quickened.

“Then come, pet,” his lips pressed a kiss to your salty cheek, and you cried out in pleasure—“I give you permission.”

That was all you needed.

When his hips trembled, signaling his release, his moans mixed with yours, growing louder and more intense as you both came hard, soaking each other. His mouth latched onto yours, and once again, he bit your lips in promise, in a messy kiss filled with blood, betrayal, and hatred.

For a moment, neither of you moved, only your rapid breaths escaping your noses and mouths while both your hearts beat so hard they seemed ready to burst at any moment.

But the need for analysis was unnecessary for either of you.

Not when Satoru sedated you and dressed you, opening a portal in the middle of your room, a portal that took both of you to his house outside the city, far from the sorcerer’s school.

He didn’t stop to analyze things either when he locked you in his basement, chained you there, and placed a gag in your mouth so that when you woke up, you wouldn’t hurt yourself screaming for help.

Because no help would come.

Even with his heart still beating wildly in his chest, Satoru gave one last look at your sleeping, bound figure in his basement. Then, with a satisfied smile on his face, he turned around, closed the door, and left.

There was nothing left to restore his morality.

He had succeeded in corrupting you.

But you had nothing to fear.

Because you had corrupted him, too.

And the scream that echoed through his mansion once you awoke…

Confirmed it.

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