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gojos-thot-patrol · 7 months

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It's the horniest time of the year Dear reader.

Now Loading, Kinktober Week one...

Synopsis: Suguru has loved you since he met you. Or maybe lust is a better word. Either way, it never really mattered. You were a good girl who would never give a dirty fuck boy like him a chance. You were smarter than that. Even now, as you sit on his lap learning how to smoke for the first time, you'd never give him a chance. Right? Kinks: Pussy drunk, corruption, non/dub con, stoned sex, and slight yandere behavior. Viewer Discretion is advised.

It was the laugh that got him. Light and sweet, delicate even. A wind chime giggle that drew Suguru’s attention away from whatever the fuck his roommate was talking about, and right to you. You were adorable. Bright vibrant eyes and a shy smile, trying to hide behind a red solo cup as Shoko continued to tease you. It made his dick twitch.

“Yeah, so true Satoru- hey who’s that?” He asked Gojo, cutting off whatever rant he was on to point at you.

“Oh, you haven't met Y/n yet?” Gojo asked.

“You have?” Suguru didn’t like the jealous pang he got from that. He didn’t like the idea that Gojo got to you first. Satoru knew this, and smirked back at him.

“Sure have,” He winked, “She’s Shoko’s new roommate. This is apparently her first party ever.”

“You don’t say?” Suguru hummed, looking over at you in time to see you decline a joint being passed your way. You screamed sheltered kid, and you probably didn’t even know it. “You should introduce me.”

“And why should I?” Satoru scoffed, “So you can fuck her once and then never answer her texts again?”

“Are you planning on treating her any better?” Suguru snorted back.

“Hey man, that’s!-...Fair enough, actually, come on.” He sighed, nodding his head towards you as he escorted his friend over. “Hey, Y/n!” He yelled with a laugh, and you waved to him.

“Hi Gojo!” You smiled, drowsily swaying back and forth as you enjoyed your buzz.

“You look like you’re having a good time,” He chuckled, “Hey, I got someone I want you to meet. This is-”

“Hi Suguru!” You waved at him, your smile growing. To Satoru’s, but more so Suguru’s surprise, you seemed to know him.

“Oh, uh, Hey.” He smiled with a soft wave.

“I thought you said you hadn’t met?” Satoru asked, looking puzzled. Your confusion etched your features as well as you looked up at him.

“Why would you say that? We have Music History together.” You gently reminded him. Geto ran though his mind palace, ripping books off the shelves as he desperately tried to remember who you were, and how the fuck he could have possibly forgotten you.

Wait…wait…No fucking way, you couldn’t be the same girl. The one who passed out almost the moment class started? The girl who wore exclusively sweatpants and band hoodies? He had noticed you before, mostly for your good taste in music, but seeing you when you weren’t just a walking corpse was like seeing an entirely different human being.

“I never said that, Gojo doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” Suguru swiftly threw Satoru under the bus, sitting next to you and draping his arm around your shoulders, “How have you been Y/n? Enjoying the party?” his smile was so charming, it was the only thing you could really focus on.

“Backstabbing asshole-” Satoru muttered as he went to find better friends.

“I’ve been good!” You smiled with a nod, leaning into his side, “Little nervous about last week's test though. I kinda struggle in that class.” You confessed.

“Really?” He asked with a precious tilt of his head. “You know, I have an A in Music History, I could tutor you if you wanted.”

“Really?!” You gasped, eyes dazzling like all of the glitter in the world was contained in them, “That would be so nice!” He laughed softly and nodded. This was almost too easy.

“Of course Sweetheart. Here, let me get your number.”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

You hated how much you liked Suguru. How special his attention made you feel, how sincere his care seemed to be, and how sweet his actions were. Mostly because you knew it was all an act. You thought it was funny how he tried to talk you up as if Shoko wasn’t your roommate. Did he really think she wouldn’t warn you about her friends and their natural fuck boy tendencies?

After the party that night, Shoko had told you exactly who Suguru Geto was when it came to women, and made it clear in no uncertain terms that the only thing he wanted was a one night stand. It hurt at first, considering you did have a crush on him at one point. But, you were thankful for the warning nonetheless. You knew your judgment when it came to guys was less than phenomenal, and this whole ordeal confirmed it.

Still, you happily accepted the free tutoring. If there was one thing Suguru knew a lot about, it was anything having to do with music. His passion for it leaked into how he taught, and soaked up into you. You found yourself actually engaged in topics you previously found boring, and your grade did genuinely improve. You hated that it only added fuel to your ridiculous crush. There was some truth in the saying that the quickest way to fall in love with someone is to see them talk about their passions, and you were falling into that trap.

Of course, the hours spent together outside of tutoring didn’t help. The parties his frat held, movie nights hosted by Shoko, randomly bumping into him at the library. You almost always found yourself somehow alone with Suguru. Often it was friendly: talking about whatever new band he discovered, or about whatever movie was playing.

But, sometimes it got more intimate than that. Him pulling you onto his lap to “make room for more people” on the couch. Hiding in a corner at some basement show together, close enough that you could smell the tequila on his breath while he openly wished to kiss you. It took willpower you didn’t even know you had to deny him. You quickly came to the realization you needed a distraction.

That’s what led you here. “Who are you texting?” Suguru asked, completely giving up on trying to teach you about the effect the LA riots had on the rap music genre.

“Why do you want to know?” You questioned back, lifting an eyebrow. You were a little more than two months into your friendship with Suguru, and at some point during that time he decided he was privy to whoever it was you were talking to at any moment. He said it was because he cared about you and wanted to keep you safe. You knew it was because he was jealous.

“I’m just curious who you think is more important than getting a passing grade?” He smiled so syrupy sweet as the sarcastic comment dripped from his lips. Asshole. You sighed and shook your head. You wanted to argue with him more, but, you couldn’t keep this secret from him forever.

“So, you know Keigo from class, right?”

“Why the fuck are you talking to Keigo?” Suguru snapped as his eyes narrowed, a stark contrast from just seconds before. You flinched a bit at the venom in his question. Suguru never really cursed, and it always made you feel small when he did. Still, you couldn’t back out now.

“Simple, he’s my boyfriend.” You shrugged, trying to feign a confidence you truly did not have.

“Your what?”

“Oh my God, you’re acting like I just told you I fucked a republican, it’s not that big of a deal!” You scoffed at his utter disgust, your shame from earlier being replaced with indignation at his reaction. You weren’t sure when he got the idea that he owned you, but you were determined to kill it.

“How long have you been “dating” Takami?” He more accused than asked.

“Only like a week. It’s not that big a deal, almost no one even knows. We're going to make it official at ABO’s Halloween party next week.” Oh, of course. You would choose his frat party to try and make things “official.” Like you were trying to make him look like a fool. He rolled his eyes, dramatically leaning back in his chair, as if he was trying to get away from you.

“Oh, well isn’t that just cute.” He sneered, the word “cute” cutting deeper than any insult he could have thrown out at that moment. You bristled at the comment, fighting back the urge to punch his stupidly cute throat.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” You scoffed, “Like you have any say in my relationships.”

“I just think it’s really funny that you say you want nothing to do with fuck boys, and you want a real relationship with someone who cares about you” he mocked, “Just to start dating the second biggest fuck boy on campus, right after Ryomen of all people.” He shrugged calmly despite the rage setting a fire up his spine.

“Well, aren't you just a nice guy.” You all but hissed. It was his turn to flinch now, your words clearly hitting a nerve dead on. He clenched his jaw and his fist, before visibly letting it go.

“Whatever. You’re a grown woman, make whatever mistakes you want.” He sighed, not willing to escalate the fight any further. Right now, that is. It wasn’t your fault you wanted to give Keigo a chance, you saw the good in everybody. Even him once, before Shoko got to you. His fight wasn’t with you, it was with Keigo.

“You’re right, I am!” You announced, proud of your perceived win.

“Yeah, you go girl, you’re so empowered. Now can we please get back to studying?’ He scoffed with a shake of his head.

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

“You sure Takami isn’t going to show up tonight?” Gojo asked as he adjusted the fangs in his mouth.

“Not if he knows what’s good for him.” Suguru chuckled a bit as he finished putting the wolf paint on his face. His knuckles were still a little sore from where he cut them on the other man's teeth, reminding him of the night he reminded Keigo to stay away from you. He wondered if his eye looked any better. “How do I look?”

“Like a dollar store werewolf.” Satoru smirked, taking in his friend's torn up flannel and cheap wolf ears (definitely not cat ears) combo.

“Perfect.” Suguru grinned.

“So do you think he told Y/n what happened?” Gojo asked as he put on his vampire cape, finishing his own look.

“Nope,” Suguru smiled, “That’s the best part. She told me the next day in class that apparently he got mugged by a stranger. She was pissed too.”

“So he kept the secret.” Gojo laughed, “Maybe he isn’t a bird brain after all.” He hummed as the doorbell rang, alerting them to the first wave of guests coming. They made it down the stairs in just enough time to see Nanami and Sukuna open the door for you, Shoko, Mei Mei, and-

Motherfucker.

“Keigo!” Suguru smiled, warm and friendly, as he wrapped an aggressive arm around your date. “I didn't expect to see you here after what happened the other night! Welcome!”

“Hey man, you can’t let one asshole run your life, ya know?” Keigo grinned, playing along despite glaring daggers into the wolfman next to him.

“You’re so brave.” Gojo sighed with mock irreverence, “Your eye looks terrible.”

“Gee thanks.” Kegio grinned through gritted teeth. “I made it a part of the look.”

“Is the look meant to be a mugging victim?” Gojo asked with a mocking tilt of his head.

“No, he’s a zombie.” You scoffed with a playful eye roll.

“Apparently Mad Hatter was “too cheesy” for him.” Mei Mei tsked. Oooh, an Alice in Wonderland theme. It made sense, Shoko was clearly Alice- meaning Mei Mei was probably the Cheshire Cat and you were The White Rabbit. Suguru was wondering how the other girls convinced you to go out in such a short dress, the satin bunny ears and bowtie reading more Playboy Bunny than The White Rabbit.

“You all look fantastic ladies, come on in.” He smiled, going to wrap his arm around you to lead you inside. Only for Keigo to intercept him, snatching you away from Suguru’s side and into his own with a swift arm around your waist, making you giggle up at him. Apparently, he wanted another black eye to match his current one.

Two hours later, and Suguru was considering the ethics of murder. Clearly, knocking a molar out of Keigo Takami’s head wasn’t enough, he needed to be put in the dirt. A fact he was making all too clear by the way he blatantly felt you up, on Suguru’s couch no less. It made his teeth itch to watch, the way you drunkenly swayed into that dirty asshole. How you shyly batted his hand away from the hem of your dress, probably knowing it would be there later anyway.

“Want me to take care of that fucker for you?” Ryomen asked, having long ditched the Micheal Myers mask and now just looking like a regular blood splattered mechanic. He knew how long Suguru had coveted you, and had no problem looking for a bullshit reason to kick your boyfriend out if it meant his boy got a chance.

“No, If we kick him out now she’ll just go with him.” Suguru scoffed, taking a drink of his cheap beer. “Honestly, that’s probably what he wants. To get her home and alone.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna wait to get home.” Ryomen grimaced as the two of them watched Keigo slowly try to lead you away to an empty room. Suguru scowled, suddenly understanding Keigo’s game. He could hear that blonde asshole in his head now, laughing in his victory. You want me to stay away from her? What if I fucked her under your roof instead? He felt his damaged fingers twitch, craving violence.

“I’ll be in my room.” Suguru grumbled, making sure to bump into a party goer as he stormed off, begging someone to start a fight with him. Sadly, no one had the balls to try and square up, so he made it to his door with no problem. He sighed as he entered his room, vacuum sealed away from the rest of the party. He felt pathetic as he flopped on his bed. A loser as he pulled his stash out, rolling a joint and turning on the album Pablo Honey by Radiohead. If he was going to be in his sad boy feelings, he was going to commit to the bit.

Creep had just came on when you came sniveling into his room. He wasn’t sure who was more shocked about the situation, him or you. You looked up at him with wide wet eyes that probably should have made him feel some sort of sad, but just made him want to rip that strip of fabric you called a “dress” off you instead.

“Oh, uh, I didn’t expect to find you in here.” You sniffed as you leaned against the door.

“It’s my room?” He asked more than stated.

“Yeah, and it’s your party too.” You reminded him as you joined him on the bed. He blatantly watched the way your thighs doubled in size as you sat, and desperately wished to be in between them. Drying your tears while he showed you why that asshole you were with now would never compare to him. “I thought you’d be mingling.” You mumbled. He shrugged and took a drag off of his joint.

“I got bored,” He lied, “Too many jagoffs.” Okay, that was honest.

“Yeah, tell me about it.” You chuckled humorlessly with a sniffle. He reached out and wiped a tear away with his thumb.

“Where’s your boyfriend Doll?” He questioned, ignoring the frustration building up inside of him. Where the fuck was that loser? What, was he too much of a “man” to know how to deal with a few tears? Too bad- he was the one that wanted the boyfriend label. Your emotional comfort was his job now, not Suguru’s.

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. He got upset when I wouldn’t sleep with him and ended up taking Tinkerbell home.” OH.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Sweetheart,” He cooed, voice dripping in sincerity as he pulled you into his lap for a warm hug. You accepted gratefully, wrapping your arms around him and shoving your face in the crook of his neck, letting the familiar smell of his soap fill your senses.

“It’s okay…” You sniffled softly, “You tried to warn me…we weren’t that serious anyway.” You sighed. He massaged gentle circles into the small of your back, holding you close.

“Still, I know it must hurt.” He muttered to you.

“It doesn’t feel good.” You confirmed with a sigh. You watched him take a drag off the joint in his hand. You watched the way his lips wrapped around the paper, felt his chest expand under you, smelled the smoke despite the effort he made to blow it away from you. Something about the performance was mesmerizing. You never really considered drugs before, but now? Knowing they were supposed to make you feel good even when you felt like shit? Your interest was piqued.

“Does weed taste good?” You asked, catching Suguru off guard mid puff. A laugh turned into a mild coughing fit. You pat his back to help him through it.

“Where did that come from?” He asked with an amused smirk as he caught his breath again.

“I’m just curious about it.” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze in embarrassment as you felt your face heat up.

“Eh, it depends on the weed really. Different strands taste different.” he explained, ashing the joint into one of the soda cans Gojo left around the room. “Dirt weed tastes like dirt.”

“What does that one taste like?” You asked, pointing at the spliff in his hand. He shrugged.

“Hard to explain. Why, you wanna try it?” He asked with a soft grin. Your face felt like it was on fire, hiding half of it in his chest and shrugging with one shoulder.

“I mean…kinda.” You confessed. Suguru tried to figure out when Halloween passed and Christmas came, because normally a gift like this required a Christmas miracle to make happen. He handed you the joint, placing it between your thumb and pointer finger. He watched with intense eyes as you brought it up to your face.

“Um, so…Is there anything like, special I’m supposed to do here, or?” You sheepishly asked, and Suguru had to slightly adjust your position on his lap so you didn’t feel his hard on. God you were perfect. A soft innocence clung to you, one even that dirty asshole Keigo couldn’t taint, but Suguru knew he could decimate.

“Just take a deep breath,” He said, taking your hand and guiding the joint to your lips, “Hold it for a few seconds in your lungs, then let it out.” He instructed. You tried to do what he said, sucking in hard and deep, like you were trying to impress him. Turns out, weed tastes like fire. The smoke barely hit your lungs before the burn burst out from you, lighting an inferno in your throat as you attempted to cough your lungs out.

“Whoa, slow down there Puff!” He laughed, leaning over and pulling a water bottle from the mini fridge he used as a nightstand. “You’re gonna green out if you keep that up.” He took the joint and opened the bottle for you, watching as you tried to waterboard yourself to sooth your ragged throat.

“Why do people enjoy that?!” You gasped as you finally came up for air.

“Normally they don’t try to smoke half a joint in one drag,” He teased you gently, rubbing your back as you shook your head. “Here, let’s try a softer approach, okay?”

“Okay…” You muttered hesitantly. You hated that burn, but you were curious what he had in mind to make it gentler. You watched him bring the joint to his own lips, taking a deep breath before balancing the joint on one of the soda cans. He turned your head to face him.

You didn’t even realize what was happening until his mouth was on yours, soft and sweet, coaxing your lips to part. Despite your better judgment, you leaned into the kiss, opening your mouth for him, letting the smoke pour from his lungs and into yours. He was right, it was softer this time. The burn was mellowed from him taking it in first, giving you room to taste the earthy- almost piney flavor of the weed. You were able to hold it in your lungs longer this time, if for no other reason than because the kiss forced you too.

As he pulled back, you blew out the gray fumes, coughing a little, but not nearly as much as you did last time. Oh, okay, you got it now. “See?” He purred as he watched you watch the smoke, “You’re token’ like a pro now.”

“I feel light headed,” You confessed as you leaned into him, “And heavy.” He was a little shocked it was already starting to hit you, but then again, you probably didn’t have a lot of experience with…well anything.

“Makes sense. It’s an Indica strain.” He informed you as he repositioned you in his lap, pressing your back to his chest.

“What does that mean?” You asked as you watched him pick up the almost dead joint again.

“It just means it mellows you out,” He gave the short version, not really having the time or the patience to give you a thorough run down of cannabis strains. At least not right now. “Want to try the joint again?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Absolutely not.” You said, not wanting to feel your lungs explode again.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He said as he took another puff off the joint, killing it this time and shoving it into the ashtray formerly known as soda can. He leaned down and pressed another kiss to you. You focused more on him than the smoke this time. On the way his lips moved hungrily against yours, on the way you could taste vodka and redbull on his tongue-subtle under the taste of weed. On the way his hand found the hem of your dress, teasing it in between his fingers before massaging your inner thigh.

“Sug,” You giggled as you let the burning smoke out, squirming under his touch and pushing yourself further into his lap to try and make some distance between your skin and his hand, “What are you doing?”

“I’m just trying to make you feel good Sweetheart,” He purred, “What, did Keigo not touch you like this?” That had more edge to it than he intended, not that you noticed.

“No, he didn’t.” You admitted with a chuckle. Apparently you got the giggles when high. Your little confession went straight to Suguru’s cock though. He knew you were a good girl, saving yourself for him even before you knew you were his.

“Probably for the best.” He laughed, moving his hand further up your inner thigh, making you gasp slightly. “He probably wouldn’t even know what to do once he got your panties down.” He huffed, “Or worse, bust in ten seconds and leave you unsatisfied.”

“Sug,” You sighed, having so much to say but not enough brain function to say it. He felt your thighs tremble under his hand and his heartbeat speed up with it. He had to have you or he was going to lose his mind. “Be nice…” You mumbled.

“And why should I be?” He asked, hand now slipping under your incredibly short dress, touching you in places you had never been touched before. “He wasn’t nice to you. I’d take such good care of you baby…” His lips were on your neck now, sending rolling waves of electricity down the column of your spine. You pressed your thighs together, unwittingly trapping his hand there and doing yourself no favors. You could feel yourself getting uncomfortably wet.

“Promise?..” You muttered. He had been sweet to you these last few months, and he had been actively pursuing you for this long- maybe Shoko was wrong this time.

“Swear.” He whispered into your neck before kissing it with a force, surly leaving a purple bruise in his wake. “Let me show you…” He said as his other hand came up to massage your right breast. You took a deep breath, trying to think through what was happening and the consequences of your actions. You didn’t get very far. All you could think about was the way your buzzing skin reacted to his warm touch, and the anticipation building in between your legs. Your body had no idea how to handle all of this brand new stimulation.

You took a deep breath, then nodded. “Okay.” You whimpered as you let your legs fall open for him. Suguru didn’t hesitate to drag a thick finger along your clothed slit, making you hiss and bite your lip.

“You like that Doll?” He asked, pushing your panties to the side and sliding two fingers in between your folds, brushing past the nub of nerves he found there. Pleasure jolted from the light touch, electrifying you and making you buck your hips into him for more. You nodded earnestly, desperate to explore this new sensation. “Talk to me beautiful.” he warned.

“Yes…” You gasped, melting into his broad chest as he ran two fingers over your sex, gracing your clit yet again.

“Want to feel even better?” He purred and you nodded.

“Uh huh…” Your body tensed, your walls clenching as he bullied two fingers into you, trying to push out the sudden intrusion. He groaned as he felt you tremble around his digits, mouth watering at the thought of feeling it around his cock. He bucked his hips up into you, not bothering to hide the hard on you gave him anymore.

You moaned, breathing deep as you tried to adjust to the new feeling. Pleasure exploded in you as he curled his fingers up, touching your g-spot with a precision you could never manage. “You’re soaked baby girl,” He hummed as he worked his fingers inside of you, pressing his palm to your clit, moving in time and intensifying everything you felt. “Is all of this for me Doll?”

“Geto…” You moaned, your pretty sighs being music to his ears as you lazily rolled your hips in time with his fingers. Pleasure flooded your system, combining with your buzzing, heavy skin and light head to create a sensation that left you floating in the ninth dimension. You felt your stomach tighten in anticipation, and your legs start to tremble. You lugged your hand up to the back of his head, tangling your fingers into his long hair for support.

“You sound so pretty when you say my name…” He moaned, leaving a trail of his marks down your neck, obvious evidence that you were his and his alone.

“Geto, I’m-” You whined softly as you felt a wave of euphoria roll through your body as the pressure came to a tipping point. You looked up at him with wide desperate eyes and whined, feeling the electricity bubble and pop inside of you threatening to explode.

“Cum for me sweetheart,” He groaned, coaxing your climax out of you with every stroke of his fingers, “Cum all over me.” It was like your body was under some sort of spell, forced to act upon his will. The pressure finally exploding inside of you, sending a surge of ecstasy and fire through your body, hitting you with intense wave after wave of bliss. Your legs trembled from the intensity of it as you tried to catch your breath. Your hands fell from his hair and to his sides, digging your nails into Suguru as you desperately tried to ground yourself.

“You’re so fucking pretty when you cum, do you know that?” He hummed, removing his fingers from your cunt and placing them in your mouth. You got the hint, sucking them clean with earnest. His breath caught in his throat as you did, your eagerness catching him kinda off guard. He took his digits out of your mouth. You felt Suguru push you forward, using one hand to keep you from folding in half and the other to pull the zipper of your costume down. You’re pretty sure he unhooked your bra while he was back there, too.

From there it wasn’t hard for him to lay you on the bed and pull the strapless dress off of you. You whined softly as he pulled your bra off your chest. You tried to lift a hand up to undress him, but your body felt so heavy it was hard to move. He caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your wrist.

“Let me take care of you Sweetheart,” He winked, “You just relax.” He rested your hand on your chest before ripping off his cheap flannel and tattered thrift store jeans. He was back in between your legs before you could fully process what was happening. You felt your mouth dry at the sight. Or maybe it was another side effect of the weed. Either way, he looked like a Greek god.

His long, normally perfect hair was messy, frizzy and sweat stuck to his face. His honey brown eyes were dark with carnal desire. His thick cock was standing at full alert, angry and already dripping against his abs. The sight of it made your stomach explode with nerves, and your chest tightened as you realized he planned to shove all of that into you.

“S’ big..” You slurred, shaking your head. He chuckled softly, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Awe, thanks sweetheart.”

“It’s not gonna fit Geto...” You whimpered to him, “Not for the first time..” Awe, you were so cute, it almost made Suguru’s heart skip a beat. Almost. More than anything else, the innocence in your watery red eyes coupled with your kiss swollen lips made him all the more eager to prove you wrong.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll fit,” He assured you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. Of course he was going to fit, you were made for him. He pulled your hips to his, massaging your hips with his thumbs as he lined you up. He sunk his hips in and-

Oh Fuck.

Your cunt was more intoxicating than a shot of heroin straight into the bloodstream. You were warm and soft, velvety walls contracting around him and pulling him impossibly deep. Your soft whines as your thighs wrapped around him, trying to ground yourself and pull him closer all at the same time was better than opium. Fuck drugs, nothing was ever going to top this.

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re perfect.” He groaned into your ear, pulling back and brushing against your sweet spot so perfectly. You whined under him, your nails found his back and clawed into him, leaving scarlet crescent moons in his back as evidence of your presence in his bed. You had never felt so full and perfectly stretched at the same time. A fire split you down the middle, burning away the pain and leaving only an intense pleasure in its wake, one you knew no toy would ever be able to replicate.

His blunt nails bruised your hips as he fought to stay still, trying to respect that this was your first time. You fucked that up though with a soft buck of your hips, silently giving him the green light to move. And move he did, desperately chasing his high as he dragged his cock in and out of your weeping cunt. You watched as his eyes glazed over and his face flushed, aiming every thrust of his hips to perfectly hit your g-spot and pull another sangria sweet moan from your mouth.

Geto had imagined what your pussy would feel like before. Countless times late at night, with his shirt between his teeth as he wished his hand was you. A few times with girls who looked kinda like you at a party, where half way through he’d have to shove her face in the pillow, and close his eyes to see your face. Hell, he had even imagined it a few times when he was drunkenly fucking Satoru’s throat. None of it could even come close to the euphoria he got from the actual thing.

He was convinced your pussy was actually made for him. The way your walls perfectly fit him, warm and weeping, begging him to fuck you. His pace was brutally set, every thrust in making you flutter around him and his spine shiver. He wasn’t going to last nearly as long as he wanted and that thought was driving him mad.

“Fuck, pretty girl, you were made for me,” He slurred softly into your ear, “You feel so fucking amazing, so good. I knew you had a slut in you,” He huffed a soft chuckle, “And it’s all for me, isn’t it Doll? Who else could make you feel this good?”

“No one, all yours..” You moaned, trying to keep up with him, but faltering as you fought against wave after wave after wave of euphoria crashing into your senses. Your nervous system was fried beyond belief at this point, asking you to speak was just inhumane.

“Atta girl,” He praised as his hand reached down to massage your clit, setting even more fireworks off inside of your veins and behind your eyes. He wanted you- No, he needed you, carnally. Something inside him wasn’t going to be able to function anymore if he didn’t have you by his side. He could feel the chemicals in his brain reworking themselves in real time, his body flushed and buzzed with desire. The world could be crumbling around the two of your right now and he doubted he’d even notice.

The coil that was forming inside of you was tightening at an alarming rate, your pussy already sensitive from coming once before. Your body reacted to Suguru in ways it hadn’t reacted to anything or anyone before, and it left you feeling like you were on fire as you got lost in the feelings between your legs. You felt your muscles tighten and contract, and you tried to warn him, you truly did.

Before you could even open your mouth to form the words though, the coil snapped, opening the floodgates to a sea of pleasure that overrode any of your higher cognitive power. It was like lightning had struck, your buzzing body being electrocuted to life as dopamine and ecstasy exploded out of your brain and into your nervous system, leaving you shaking and trembling as (you think) you yelled out his name.

Suguru didn’t let up for even a second, watching the way your face contorted and scrunched in pleasure. It was an image he wanted in his mind for the rest of time. “‘M gonna cum,” He huffed, trying to find his own ability to speak, “‘gonna cum so hard, let me cum inside, baby. Please, please, let me have you...” You whined almost pathetically under him, the pleasure from your ongoing orgasm becoming almost painful with Geto’s refusal to let up. His hand finally left your clit, trying to find stability on the pillow to try and brace himself for his own oncoming high.

Only for you to intertwine your fingers with his. Letting him press your hand into the cushion under your head, your angelic doe eyes filled with pleasure induced tears and lust and what he wanted to believe was love, met his own. His eyes, filled with need and desire, and unadulterated adoration. Your lips quivered when they parted.

“S-Suguru…” You whimpered softly.

He came the hardest that he had ever cum in his life. Right then and there, deep inside you. He had to throw his head down and bite your shoulder to keep the rest of this party from hearing the expletives that spewed from his mouth, mixed with your name and words of praise. He was thankful even now he could hear the music from the festivities, hopefully none of them heard the two of you together. Those sounds were only for him.

He was breathing hard, but not nearly as hard as you. He barely kept himself from collapsing on top of you. “You still with me Sweetheart?”

“Yeah…I’m with you…” You nodded out with a soft nod. He forced himself to pull out, and you wanted to bite him for doing it. You went from feeling full and complete to more empty than you ever had in your life, and you hated it. He hummed softly as he collapsed next to you, and pulled you tight against his chest. “I’m so tired..” You muttered.

He kissed your forehead. “Then get some sleep, Doll. I got you.” He assured you as he cuddled up next to you, feeling particularly tired himself.

“You’re gonna leave…” You whimpered, regret started to seep in as you remembered what kept you from ever doing this in the first place. Suguru adamantly shook his head, gently pulling your head up to look him in the eyes.

“No baby, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” And for as many times as he had used that line in the past, for the first time in his entire life, he truly thought meant it.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・ Taglist ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

thank you lovlies, for supporting my work! @sk8ttles, @blkkizzat,@littyasatittyyy,@ketchupsush1,

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cosmicstarlatte · 9 months

Text

Coffee Shop (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

You start a new job at a coffee shop in a popular plaza. You can't help but look forward to a certain regular. ♡

»Characters: Demon Bros + Dia + Barb

»Tags: Fluff, Bulleted Style, GN Reader, LeviLeviLevi-

»Notes: lol when was the last time I made a bulleted fic that wasn't a shitpost???🤯 Just simple short fluff lol, reblogs are appreciated + motivating ♡

Lucifer:

Always orders a cafe con leche every morning

Keeps interactions short but you learned his name

Always so serious but he does look like a business man

A very very handsome business man cough

After working there for a little bit he admits he likes the way you make his drink & hates when you guys miss each other on days off

One day he comes in normal clothes & you got caught off guard when he made it to the register

"It's my day off but I was craving my usual. I'm glad to see you're here."

Pleaseee you gotta be blushing right now alalfkfldk

You notice the record store bag he's holding & start a fun conversation while its slow

It does get busier & unfortunately have to cut the conversation to both your disappointments

"We can continue this later...maybe over dinner if you're available?"

Mammon:

Usually gets an icy blended drink, the flavor changes frequently

You see him every other day, it looks like he works at a retail store in the plaza

You thought he was cute & funny despite how loud he could be

One day he defends you against a really rude customer

You say your thank yous & give him his drink for free that day

"Yeah I guess I am a hero. Heroes get free drinks all the time though, ya?"

You couldn't help but laugh & accidentally let slip "you're really cute!"

He starts choking on his drink, stuttering & blushing

He goes silent for a moment before asking, "whaddaya say to a date one of these days?"

Levi:

Usually orders sweet drinks & likes trying seasonal/limited time things

You've seen him at his job at the anime store in the plaza, since you visit there sometimes

You two are on friendly terms even though he can be awkward

You think he's very cute though, especially when he talks about his passions

You felt like you two were dancing around eachother so you decide to make a move

You drew a Gundam robot on his drink & wrote 'Gun-DAM you're cute!'

You nervously handed the drink & he took it without noticing the drawing on it

You watched as he left the shop,took another sip, then stop as he looked at his drink

You could see he was happily freaking out but then abruptly stop

He looked back to the shop & you waved a shy hello

He ran back inside to make sure, "S-sorry is this a mistake? W-was this for someone else??"

"Look on the bottom"

He raised the cup & looked under

Levi, AkuCon this weekend?

Satan:

Usually orders a simple cappuccino but will add a flavored syrup occasionally

Comes in often on his breaks

You've seen him working at the bookstore in the plaza

He looks like a simple guy yet very charming

You always notice a book on him & one day you decide to ask what he's reading

You learn you read the same things & start having fun conversations every time he stops by

Eventually he asks you if you'd be able to give your thoughts on his writing

"Sure, I'd be happy to read it if you bring it!"

He gave you a flirty smile

"Actually I was thinking maybe we could hang out...like somewhere that's not here?"

Asmo:

Always orders an iced vanilla oat milk latte

You see him every few days, really friendly customer that loves to chat & you become friends quick even though you want more

You find out he works at a nearby agency & is an up & coming model

You felt a little intimidated, he could be really famous one day!

Nevertheless you treat him just the same even as those around him changed, he lets you know how grateful he is

One day he comes in upset & tells you the agency is moving across town to a bigger location so he won't be able to see you there anymore

At the same time both of you blurt out

"I still wanna see you!"

Beel:

You never know with this guy

He works in the sports store across from the cafe

He's always indecisive with the menu & one day just tells you to make whatever

You're his fave barista, he thinks you make the best drinks either way

Doesn't realize he just likes everything & has a crush on you

You can't help but get excited when he looks excited to see you golden retriever energy

You find out he's a foodie type & you guys talk about the local spots around town

"Would you like to check out the new sandwich store that opened a few doors down? Uh...like, maybe a date?"

Belphie:

Usually orders a hot regular latte but occasionally orders hot chocolate

He appears to be a student as he comes in often to study & always looks tired

One day on your break you decide to chat him up & offer help on the subject he was struggling with

He thought you were cute & was thankful for your help

After a few weeks of tutoring (+some heavy flirting), he passed his exam flawlessly

"Actually can you help me with one other thing?"

"Yeah, what?"

"Would you like to go on a date sometime?"

Diavolo:

Has a new favorite every week but really likes lattes/teas

You can tell he's important with his assistant present

You wonder why the assistant doesnt just get his order though

Anyway hes hot really friendly & chatty & can tell a few good jokes, you appreciate them!

He always seems reluctant to leave the shop which makes your heart flip

Always leaves a big tip! ... I want him to give me a big tip 😔

The two of you find out you have a lot more in common than you thought

One day he admits that these coffee runs are the things he looks forward to the most since his day is usually very busy & doesn't get much else normalcy

He lets slip that it's mainly seeing you that adds to his joy so he goes all in

"If you're interested, care to join me for dinner this weekend?"

Barbatos:

Always large orders of a few different drinks (part of his job)

Though you notice he always orders tea for himself & likes to buy different tea blends

He's a very (cute) polite customer, one of the few

You two usually chat as you make his large order & you can't help but fall for him

Knowing he loves to buy limited release tea blends, you usually save him one before the cafe sells out

You never tell anyone about it but:

"I appreciate you always saving me one."

"Oh? How did you know!?"

"I have a friend who stopped by earlier & said it was one of those times they missed out. Yet, there always appears to be one for me even after sell-out. Thank you kindly."

You blush at being found out, "seems I've been caught!"

He chuckles & gives you another shock:

"I've been meaning to ask...will you allow me to take you out one of these days?"

⬦You might also like: Customer Service︱Devil-Mart ⭐️︱You Are The Father︱MC feeling Insecure

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹#obey me fluff #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 10 months

Note

Happy follower milestone! Maybe an Ettore onesbot where reader is assistant to the doctor Dibs and maybe some kind of nurse kink???

Afflictions Of A Dark Nature

Thank you for the request! I hope this lives up to your expectations! This is my first time writing for Ettore so apologies if it seems OOC, I did try my best (I even re-watched High Life and will be sending the bill for emotional damages). Also get well soon @ewanmitchellcrumbs 😚

Warnings under the cut! Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Ettore Taglist

Warnings: *deep breath* lots of swearing, mentions of past sexual encounters that may have not been consensual, fingering, dub-con, p in v sex, ass slapping, degradation, mentions of a blood test, male masturbation, oral (f receiving), creampie, cum eating, dacryphyilia, choking, kinda face slapping?, ass play, spitting, overstimulation | Word Count: 6.4k~ | dividers by @firefly-graphics

If he had to see that wrinkly, smug face of Dr Dibs again, Ettore would lose it.

He knew who he was. He wasn’t beyond acting out against women if he wanted to. It’s part of what put him here in the first place. Drifting through space, on some suicide mission that the oh-so-wise earthlings had decided it would be better to doom prisoners to death rather than qualified astronauts. Not like it mattered. He was on death-row anyway, so what loss really was it?

Only the loss of his complete sanity.

He knew that if he lashed out at anyone, even Dr Dibs, there’d be a punishment of sorts. In a way that was wholly unethical for someone who is supposed to provide care, but hey, who’s keeping track. Nobody gives a shit on earth. She could put arsenic in the water supply if she wanted to, and nobody could say a thing about it.

For the sake of at least living longer, though it made him dry-heave inside, he sweetened up, got more sleeping pills out of it as a result, which in this place was gold dust. A long, good-night’s sleep did little to take a person away from a situation like this, but it was at least something. A small mercy in a way.

Deep down, there was a need-no, an impulse that Ettore couldn’t shake.

But before he could indulge in the memories of those needs, someone called his name.

“Ettore, is it?”

Her voice was sweet, far too compassionate for someone stuck aboard working on this fucked up prison. And when she raised her eyebrows at him to elicit a response, she gave a polite smile. When was the last time someone smiled at him, truly?

She had a clipboard in front of her, disguising the lanyard around her neck and she wore blue scrubs, which looked the same design as the prisoners, but instead theirs were red.

Perhaps to show how dangerous they were. Hers was clinical and clean. Pure.

He wore suspicion on his face, marked with the furrow of his brows and without saying a word he stood and followed her into the infirmary. She was a head shorter than him which made him smirk when he was sure she wasn’t looking.

All he knew was that he was grateful it wasn’t that wrinkly, smug bitch. He was sure she was doing something fucking weird to them. Just couldn’t put his finger on what.

When she drew the curtain, she let him in first, “Have a seat”

This cubicle was at least separate. And even though they’d not been on the ship for long, it looked crusty and old, with those wax linoleum floors, vile padded walls. It looked like it was going to fall apart.

Ettore slumped into a chair next to a computer with a huff, taking in his surroundings, still trying to figure out what to make of this new person. Why hadn’t he seen her before? And she looked a lot younger than Dibs, was she even a real doctor or nurse at all?

Her hair was in a loose bun, fractionally more formal than Dibs who wore her braid like armour over her shoulder at all times. It made her look older, despite what Dibs would like to have believed.

She sat down in front of the computer, typing in a few things, and he admired her face for a moment in silence. The way the light of the monitor reflected off the colour of her eyes, how her tongue darted out to lick her lips when she was trying to read something and how fast her fingers typed on the old, beige keyboard that was far too loud for his liking. Sounded like a clock was ticking in his brain.

He didn’t say a word. As was Ettore’s way. He was usually never one to speak first. He was an observer, seeking out the weaknesses of people as if he could simply by looking, like he could extract a little piece of them the longer he did. For her though, he couldn’t make her out.

When Ettore craned his head slowly to look, he could see she was reading his medical history and it made him feel special to know that she was finding out everything she could about him. He wished he could do the same to her. Find out all her little secrets.

“Just some general things and blood work today, nothing fancy” she says, meeting his eyes for a moment with another polite smile, the kind of smile where she’s clearly just trying to be nice, but Ettore can’t help the deep ache in his core to have a woman in front of him now, after years of not touching one. The Box was fine, sure, but there was no other feeling like a woman. Their warm, fleshy insides, each ridge within different from woman to woman.

Something knocked on the door in his mind. A sinful thought had arrived and asked how would she feel? Did she use the Box as well? Who did she think of when she touched herself?

“Roll up your sleeve for me” she instructs, holding the blood pressure monitor in her hands and tearing the velcro away.

She meets his eyes again briefly to find him already looking at her when she leans forward to wrap it around his bicep, right over where his tattoo is. She has small, soft hands, indicative of her work. How would they feel on him, wrapped around his cock? Would her hands even surround him? That was all he could think about as she patted the cuff in place, brushing against his shoulder.

The machine whirred to life and it squeezed his arm, at the end bordering on pain which made him wince. She busied herself with typing on her computer in the meantime, the lanyard around her neck now visible, showing her name.

Got you.

When the machine beeped, she looked at the screen and put the results into his record, wheeling her chair to him again to take it off. He felt his cock get hard beneath his scrubs not just at the feel of her hands on him again, but now because of her proximity. He assumed everyone used the same soap here, she was no exception. But it smelled different on her and he inhaled a deep, long breath to commit as much of it to memory as he could.

She looked surprised when he spoke, as if she hadn’t expected him to.

“Why haven’t I seen you around”

It was hardly a questioning tone, more like an accusation. But she didn’t flinch away at it, rather, she was used to it.

She gave another polite smile, “Oh well, I’m usually in here, running all the tests Dibs gives me” she explains, getting her additional tools ready for the blood test, “But she wanted more help with ‘menial’ tasks like this, is how she put it” she says with a short, quiet huff of a laugh, like she thinks the reasoning was poor.

“So now you’re doing poor sod’s blood tests?”

She nodded, “Something like that”

Her tools were lined up, a tourniquet, a syringe and some cotton swabs. She pulled a pair of blue gloves on and moved her chair closer to him.

“So you’re gonna poke at me?” he asks, half-amused, like he’s testing her.

She cleans the area around his arm with alcohol, a puff of air coming out her nose in a quiet laugh, tightening the tourniquet on him “Just seeing if you have good veins” she says, running her thumb over the pale skin of his arm, clearly finding a vein she was happy with.

Dr Dibs always missed his vein at least once, and he’d clench his fist as the needle went in. He wasn’t into drugs, like a lot of other prisoners here, so he wasn’t used to the prickly feeling. He found pleasure in other ways he deemed fit.

“Just a scratch” she mutters, inserting the needle beneath his skin, smiling to herself when blood goes into the bottle. First time.

Ettore watched the vial fill with rich, thick blood, and then watched her, “You seem a bit young to be a doctor”

"Technically I'm a Junior Doctor" she replies, concentrating on his blood flow before meeting his eyes again. She seems to look at him deeply, her pupils flirting across his face now that they're so close to each other. He hears every little breath, every movement of her throat as she swallows thick, like she's nervous. And everytime her tongue darts out to wet her lips, he stares at the pinkness of it, thinking of how it would feel.

"Should I be trusting you to give me a blood test?" He teases with a wolfish grin, trying to see just how far he can push his luck.

"Hm, I don't suppose you have much choice" her smile turns a bit devilish at his quip, which quite honestly, the turn of her lips makes him want to bend her over the desk and fuck her right then and there. Wants to see what kind of sweet sounds she might make. Even the thought of it makes his cock ache.

“Suppose not”

"I'm allowed to give you blood tests" she says with a teasing smile, pulling the needle from his arm and replacing it with a cotton swab, "Hold that there for me"

He obeys, holding it with his thumb firmly, smirking at the banter he didn't expect to have. The fact that she doesn't visibly seem afraid of him only spurs him on more. Thinking how far can he really go to make her feel uncomfortable. To make her realise just how dangerous he is, what he could do to her.

If anything he's shocked at his own restraint that he's managed this long without touching her. Such a small little thing. She wouldn’t stand a chance against him if he put his mind to it. And in those cute little scrubs as well, she doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing to him. How easy would it be to just rip right through them, to see if she was wearing anything underneath. He imagined she wasn’t, and that he’d rip them open to be greeted with her bare, soft skin, how plush and feminine her tits would be, filling his palm. He wants to squeeze them painfully, make her whine out like a slut.

His body is getting hot, blood thrumming with want.

Once the cotton swab is secured to his arm with adhesive, he can’t take his eyes off her, challenging her to meet his gaze to see what she would do.

“Why are you here?” he asks, intrigued. She doesn’t look a bit like a criminal. But he could be surprised by her and he has a feeling he will.

“That’s a personal question” she states, not losing the lazy smirk on her face at the fact he’s clearly so interested in her, “why are you here?”

“Alright, point taken”

She doesn’t prod for more information.

Holding out a clear tub to him, “You know what to do right?” she asks, clearly holding back a wider smile.

Cheeky bitch.

He snatches it from her grasp with a grin, “Now?”

Her eyebrow twitches in amusement.

“However long it takes”

A jolt goes through his body, as if a light had just come on inside. Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.

Fucking cock tease.

He gave her a look before drawing the curtain in the cubicle, barely a few feet from where she sat. So close that he could hear her typing on her computer, hear her quiet sighs. What sweet noises would she make with his cock prodding her soft, tight insides.

Usually when he did sperm samples for Dibs, he took no enjoyment from the idea that she was essentially in the same room as him, not that it took him any less time to cum, she was still a woman and that meant something. As repulsive as she seemed.

But when he took himself in his fist and stroked himself to hardness, teased himself with eyes softly falling shut, he imagined they were her hands. Everytime he squeezed from base to tip, reaching down with the other hand to cup his balls, wondering what her tongue would feel like dragging over every inch of him. Would she tease him? Lick his angry red tip only slightly, and that sensitive spot underneath, flattening her wet muscle over it slowly, allowing him to feel every warm and minute movement.

Without even really realising, his hand was guiding himself faster, desperate to feel the friction of her pussy choking him. Would she buck her hips to meet his desperate thrusts, or squirm away as he bullied the end of her, pushing against her cervix recklessly. He wanted her to be a good girl, and just take what he gave her. If he started, would he really truly be able to stop?

He struggled to hold in the shuddered breaths and he very nearly forgot to put the tub in front of him before finishing. A pleasant roll of warmth ran through his body, one that quickly turned into a dark, deep desire. His hand wasn't enough. He hadn’t touched a woman in so long. He wanted the real thing and she was right there. Dirty bitch was probably already wet thinking about what he was doing.

Slipping through the curtain he handed it out to her and she took it with an amused raise of her eyebrows.

“That was quick” she quipped, putting a lid on it and writing his name for the label.

Oh she’s going to get it, dirty fucking mouth.

He couldn’t hold off the sort of accomplished grin on his face, she was more fun than he thought. For a moment, he allowed himself to just simply observe her, wondering what other fun they could have.

He was growing impatient at not being able to act on those thoughts.

“Is that it?” he asks, making her look up again.

“Unless you have any other…ailments?” Ettore doesn’t miss the way she suppresses a grin by biting the inside of her cheek. He doesn’t suppress his and feels impossibly hard once again seeing her dainty lips curl up just slightly. She must be able to see beneath the thin fabric of his scrubs, how much he wants her. Let her see, he thinks, make her squirm a bit.

He watches the way her eyes briefly run over him. It was so quick, that had he not been looking right at her, he would have missed it. She swallows, feeling like he caught her and turns away a bit, trying to hide the warm feeling that settles between her legs at the way he’s looking at her, exciting and yet dangerous at the same time.

She only hopes he doesn’t notice the way she’s squeezed her thighs together.

“Smashing then, cheers doc” he smirks, sauntering off with a certain swagger about him, knowing that his sweet, innocent looking little doctor is all worked up. He looks over his shoulder before leaving.

The ache of the blood test is completely forgotten. Instead, all his blood is below his waist, with none left for his brain to function. It’s been a while since a woman last did this to him. Yeah he’d fucked plenty of women, some had even wanted it. But he wanted her to want it. Wanted the little slut to beg for it. To beg him to stuff her full of his cock.

That was new, he thought. But it didn’t deter him from trying to get near her when she was alone, for any chance he could get at having her all to himself.

Annoyingly, he didn’t find the opportunity for quite some time.

Anytime he stalked past her office, there was always some other prisoner inside, having their own tests. A flash of something akin to a dark jealousy courses through his veins, his hands forming fists whenever he hears her talking in a hushed voice to another male prisoner, speaking in that way that only a doctor does.

It’s short lived, when he realises she doesn’t speak as sweetly to them as she does to him.

It feels like he’s had a hard-on for days, just merely thinking about being alone with her. It’s beginning to become painful just how much he wants it, to make her squirm for him, to make her cry. His use of the Box has increased dramatically, but the more he does it, the less the effect. His hand doesn’t do it for him anymore. He can’t replicate that tightness only a woman's cunt could give, the feeling of being sucked so desperately inside someone, being milked for all he’s worth. He dreams of it. She would take it all, he thinks, she’d be a good little slut and take it.

He thinks that if he goes there often enough, he might just run into her, drag her inside, or to a nearby hallway, or even tackle her to the floor if need be and shove himself so deep in her she won’t be able to hold back her wanton moans. He imagines holding her arms behind her back so she can’t move, brutally fucking her so hard that her hips will be bruised.

He’s always liked walking around in the dark, even though he knows he’s not really allowed.

Tonight though, it rewards him.

A soft light emanates from her office and when he leans against the doorway to peek inside, he emits a quiet laugh through his nose, hands in pockets, just watching her.

Her hair is free of the loose bun she wore before and it trails down her back as she’s sat in her chair, leaning over a microscope. She’s so engrossed in what she’s doing and recording notes that his presence doesn’t even disturb her.

He didn’t even think about announcing his presence. He wanted her genuine reaction.

So he didn’t think twice about stalking up behind her and grabbing a fistful of her hair, yanking her back. Only a quiet gasp escaped before he slammed his palm over her mouth, muffling a surprised cry.

“Shut the fuck up” he warned with a low voice.

She froze at his words, eyes wide and breathing heavily, not even having to wonder who it was. His fingers curled painfully against her scalp, tugging her up so her back is to him. Ettore can feel her hurried breaths out her nose hitting his hand.

“Be quiet and I’ll play nice” he says against the shell of her ear, making her body shudder, drawing his hand away from her mouth.

“What the hell are you doing?” she whispers accusingly behind her as he pushes the front of her body close to the desk, the edge biting into the front of her legs. His hands run down the sides of her, sucking in the fabric to the shape of her body, growling low at finally being able to see her form underneath.

“I came to see you” he grins,

“Fucking liar”

There was something exciting about being called out like that, and about her saying such vulgar words. As sweet as she looked, he knew there was something deep inside, somewhere he wanted to prod and poke at.

“It’s your own fucking fault” he snarls, pushing his hardness against the softness of her ass. He feels her freeze up for a moment, as if she’s just putting the pieces together, “prancing about in your slutty fucking doctor’s outfit”

One hand dips beneath the hem of her scrubs, a warm sigh expelled from his chest at the softness of her stomach beneath it, trailing higher over her ribs. He can almost feel her pounding heart from here, and it does nothing to deter him, the smirk on his face evidence of that. His large palm tugs at one of her clothed breasts, slightly annoyed to see that she’s wearing a bra underneath, but he squeezes it all the same, relishing in the pained whine she lets out in response to it.

His other hand tugs her forearm almost painfully behind her, twisting it in his grip harshly. He fully knew how strong he was compared to her and couldn’t have her doing anything rash. Best to keep her hands where he can see them.

“I was just trying to be nice” she counters with a harshness to her voice, not being able to take the breathiness out of it, “Damn sight better than what most of you deserve” she briefly struggles in his hold, that is until he tightens the clamp on her wrist. A warning.

“Careful” he warns low in her ear, “I don’t think you understand the situation right now”

“You need to get off me. Now” she tries to push her hips away from him, but at her blatant refusal, he only pushes himself closer to her, moaning softly at the friction against him and the warmth of her even with her scrubs separating them.

He resists the urge to outright laugh, and scoffs instead, “You are in no position to make demands to me. I see right through you…you want me”

She only grunts painfully in response, half-trying to tear her hand away. Not trusting herself to say anything. Ettore almost wants to laugh at how pathetically she’s trying to avoid showing how she really feels.

“How long has it been, hm?” he says, more like a growl than anything, as his hand dips beneath the waistband of her scrubs, “Since someone touched you here”

She doesn’t reply, half fighting and half giving in. But then his hand cups her clothed sex, only covered by her thin underwear and she feels his large palm rub against her, her clit throbbing with desire at not having been touched in so long. God it had been so long. His fingers tease her entrance, rubbing in circles, coaxing some slick from her.

“A while, huh?” he smirks.

“Stop it, we’ll get in trouble” she says, but it comes out a whisper, not able to hide the way his hand against her most intimate area is having such an effect on her. The heel of his palm rubs against her bundle of nerves, making her blood feel like fire in her veins, arousal pooling in her belly.

“You think I give a fuck?” he retorts, grinning, “I would have a thousand punishments if I meant I could shove my cock in your tight little hole”

“You wouldn’t”

He does laugh at that, “You wanna bet?”

Her body briefly goes rigid, trying to hold back a genuine moan when his hand dips past her underwear, and Ettore groans at the feeling of her warm, wet pussy, coating his fingers with her slick. Her eyes break closed, mouth taut into a thin line to hold in her whine, body slightly trembling at how hard she is trying to hold back.

“You talk all this shit and you’re fucking soaked for me” he grins against her ear, “is this what was under that uniform…while you were prodding and poking me?”

She gasps, her lips opening in a hurried breath as his digit sinks into her, teasing her soft, spongy walls with the calloused pads of his fingertips. She doesn’t answer him. Can’t. She can just feel herself getting warmer. It’s undeniable, the effect he has on her. And she’s not sure if she’d be wise to submit to it.

But it’s getting harder and harder by the second not to.

“Oh, you’re filthy” he says, inserting another finger, stretching her pussy with them, softly but harshly pushing inside “getting off on taking my blood, fucking slut”

At both his words and motions, she lets out a soft and quiet moan, a pressure inside her building the more she feels his fingers caressing her warm, wet walls.

Ettore tugs down his sweatpants, freeing his cock which sits hot and heavy against the curve of her ass, the tip flushed and stood to attention against his stomach. He gives himself a few pumps, pushing forward to let her feel him. He doesn’t even bother to begin the tryst with kissing. He’s not like that.

It’s much too soft and intimate a gesture, compared to what he plans to do with her.

She turns her head, now just quietly moaning at the pleasure his fingers give her, eyes half open and a hedonistic expression on her face. She sees him pull his shirt up his chest, and then looks down, to see what exactly is pushing hard against her backside.

Before she has any time to react, his hand is curled around her nape, pushing her head flush against the table in front of her, sending the samples scattering to the floor.

"Stop it!" She protests, trying to wiggle helplessly out his grasp, "I'll scream"

She sees him smirk, looking down at her with a half lidded lust filled gaze.

"Do it then, makes it more interesting" he shows his teeth, tugging down her scrubs song with her underwear. Now with her body flush against the table and stuck, both his hands knead the globes of her ass, his fingers leaving pink marks in their wake. He takes fistfuls, spreading them to have a proper look at her glistening pussy, just waiting for him. She whimpers at the pleasured pain it emits when his fingers hold her apart, only to turn into a surprised gasp as he kicks her ankles apart.

“Someone could walk in!” she whisper-shouts, holding her hand to her mouth to muffle any sounds when he runs the tip of his cock over her soaked folds, slapping it against her clit and smiling at her reaction.

“Let them watch then, they can see how much of a mess I’ll make of you” he purrs leaning down to press his chest against her back, “None of that either” he pulls her hand from her mouth, “I want to hear how desperate you are for me”

With her cheek flush against the table, she had to only move her eyes to look at him. Glazed over with the pupil blown wide, it betrays just how much she may or may not want it, she still doesn’t want to show him. She’s almost annoyed at his cockiness, until she feels just how big he is, teasing her ever so slightly at her entrance.

“Now let’s see what pretty noises you can make for me, hm?”

He pushes against her, parting her folds, pulling her hips towards him to sink as much inside her as he can. His heart beats faster as he feels her pussy choke him tightly, every single ridge feels like fucking magic against his cock, he feels like just finishing inside her right there. She chokes a moan, his curved member rubbing up inside her at all the right angles the further inside he goes, until he kisses the end of her with the tip, reaching places she could never with her own fingers in the Box. Her back arches slightly as he bottoms out inside her, his fingers so tight on her hips they will definitely be bruised tomorrow.

He doesn’t give her time to adjust, not even a second, as he pulls all the way out, his length covered in her slick and slams back inside with a wet smack, watching how the flesh of her ass ripples when his hips meet it.

“Oh you’re bad…” he purrs, setting a brutally quick pace. Her eyes softly shut, her front rubbing almost painfully against the stainless steel table with each hard thrust.

“Gonna have you on every fucking flat surface in this ship” he breathes, his voice hurried from the effort and how she tightens around him at his words, “you’d like that wouldn’t you….everyone watching how much of a slut you are”

She yelps out in a pained moan when he slaps her ass, gripping it after to emphasise the burn, “Answer me”

“Yes-yes…” she manages through hurried breaths, trying to control her volume but rapidly failing.

Every time he fucks into, the sheer thickness of him pushes the air out of her lungs every time, her walls stretching against him to accommodate. Ettore smirks down at the view. She lets out between a sob and a moan when she feels his spit on her puckered hole, his thumb rubbing circles against it and spreading his saliva over her sensitive skin.

It feels so right and wrong at the same time. And when he pushes a thumb inside, only making her feel more full than she already does, she can't help but buck her ass against him, wanting more friction, pleasured tears falling down her cheeks. It really had been a while since she last had sex, obviously. But nobody had been this forward and rough with her before.

“See? I know you like this…knew you wanted to fuck me the second you saw me” he mocks, giving one hard, deep thrust inside which has her squirming against him with a desperate whine, his thumb sank all the way inside her ass, the movement of their fucking aiding in stimulating that as well.

He thinks, one day he'll claim that hole of hers as well.

But not today.

He pulls out quickly and instantly tugs at her hair, turning her over so that he can see her face. She’s sat weakly up on the counter, thighs held apart for him by one of his hands. Poor thing looks tired out, he thinks, looking at her watery eyes and flushed cheeks, her head lolling back against the counters with a thud.

“Are you fucking crying?” he grins, softly slapping her cheek and grabbing her face so she looks at him, “really has been a while, huh? That’s a bit pathetic”

He practically rips the shirt off her, not even bothering to take the bra underneath off and just tugs it to the side, freeing her breasts. He groans at the sight, perky, rosy and stood to attention in the now hot office, smelling of pure, unadulterated sex. They fill his palms perfectly, and he tugs at them with his fingers, revelling in the low, chesty mewl she lets out.

It’s no effort at all the way his cock just slides into her again, slowly. Too slowly.

She feels the curve of his cock, different in this new position, every vein and ridge. His thickness splits her open until he hits the end of her, pounding mercilessly into her, making the cupboards jolt in place with each snap of his hips against her thighs, which he is keeping in his palms wide apart. Ettore grins down, watching at the way his cock disappears into her over and over, at the ripple of her soft, soft skin each time.

She arches her back against him, warm, pleasured tears pricking at her eyes the closer she gets to that tight, hot pressure in her tummy bursting. He laughs as she clenches noticeably around him,

“What is it, hm?” he sneers, “or have I fucked you stupid?”

Her moans are so desperate she really does look pathetic, “fuck…I’m gonna-”

“You gonna cum for me?” he taunts with a wide smirk, all of this just doing wonders for his ego, “now, why would I let you do that?”

“...ne-need it…”

He never lets up his pace as once hand curls into her neck, tugging her forward so that her eyes are solely on him. She moans softly at the rough action.

Pathetic.

“You gonna be a good girl and be quiet?”

She nods as best she can, his hand tightening only slightly around her neck, trying to will her voice to come out between the deafening smacks of their fucking.

“Yes..”

“Say please, then”

“Please-I need it” she begs in a horse voice.

He shoves her back roughly, smacking her head against the cupboards, watching her tits as they bounce. Truthfully, he can feel himself getting close as well, but more than anything he wants to watch her come undone on his cock. Show her just how much fun she could have with him if she just let herself.

Her cheeks are pink and her chest is dotted with warmth as the air in the office is hot and thick, even more so at the pleasurable lack of oxygen his hand around her neck gives. It makes it harder for those strained moans to pass her lips.

Every drag through her hot, ridged core sends sparks of pleasure through him, crawling up his spine.

You first.

She sucks in a breath when he lets go of her neck, allowing his thumb into her mouth. She sucks on the digit greedily, using her tongue to coat it with saliva. Ettore almost moans at just the sight of her.

He'll have that mouth too, he thinks.

A string breaks between her mouth and her thumb as he presses it suddenly against her clit, hard. She gasps at the painful pleasure of his rough actions, swirling his thumb over her bud to bring her to that precipice first.

Her hands grip his shoulders, but he quickly tears them off him, "I didn't say you could touch me" he snarls in between devastating thrusts, drawing figures of eight on her clit and watching as she squirms.

Her hands brace the counter either side of her legs, needing something to hold onto, "...m sorry…"

"You will be fucking sorry. Stupid bitch"

If it's possible, he moves himself into her faster, bullying that rough patch inside her with such severity that her eyebrows furrow together, her mouth open in a silent scream. She contracts around him at the combined pleasure of his cock and his stimulation to her bud, knuckles going white at her grip on the counter.

"Such a perfect pussy…never fucking using that Box again…not when I have this…" he breathes pressing his body against hers so they are flush, his nose running up the side of her neck.

"Ettore, please…"

It's not really a request, just something that passes her lips. And he knows the second he feels her clench so tightly that she's done for, when her back arches towards him and her body goes rigid for a split second.

Her teeth sink into his skin at his shoulder, muffling the scream of pleasure that threatens to escape. He knows that will be there for days and it will most definitely hurt in the morning.

A gush of arousal soaks his cock and he continues to pound into her through it, pressing his thumb into her clit, extending her little death into a devastating abyss of warmth and rapture. Her walls quiver with overstimulation around him, and he can feel the wetness of her tears on his shoulder, her desperate whines.

"Fuck-shit" Ettore pushes inside once more, hard, with a barely stifled groan, huffing a pleasured laugh at the feeling of stuffing her with his cum and the warmth that surrounds him.

He wants to stay like that forever, keeping his cum inside her with his cock. Her thighs shake slightly, and he delights in the fact that she might not be able to walk afterwards. To remind her who she belongs to, now that he's claimed her.

He calms his hurried breathing just enough to pull his rapidly softening cock from her, earning a low whine from her once she pulls her teeth from him. Her tits move slowly with her breathing, thighs still shaking ever so slightly and parted to give him a good view of the mess he's made of her.

Her arousal combined with the cum that's leaking out of her activates a primal part of his brain and he's tempted to fuck her brains out again, but knows he wouldn't be able to.

Another time.

"Look at my filthy little doctor"

He pulls her thighs close to him, teetering on the edge of the table, and all she's able to do is make a sound of surprise, eyes widening as he sinks to his knees between her legs.

"No-no, Ettore-" she protests quickly. Her hands going back to bracing the counter tightly when she feels his warm, wet muscle lapping against her soaked folds, a combination of her climax and his swirling over his tongue with such lewdness it makes her flush bright red.

After such a recent and all-consuming orgasm, she flinches when his tongue swirls over her clit, the vibrations of his low moans against it feels much too overwhelming now.

"Please-too much-"

He runs his tongue flat over her core, groaning at the combined taste of them and lapping up whatever leaks out of her. He could spend fucking days between her legs if she tastes like this all the time. Her arousal is so sweet and tart, musky when combined with his. Mixed with his cum, he thinks, she's made to be fucked by him. Made to be filled.

Fucking her with his tongue through her fluttering walls, her hand cards through his hair, tugging. To push him away or to bring him closer, she's torn between the two. The warmth of his mouth against her is just too tempting to want him to stop and when he moves his face side to side, his sharp nose nuzzling against her already over-used clit…

"Fuck! Please-"

The orgasm that rocks through her body blazes every nerve in its path, all the way down to the way his tongue is still lapping and sucking her juices, as if she's the best thing he's tasted since boarding this hellscape of a ship. He takes every bit of essence, sighing and moaning, with a grip so iron on her thighs, she can't move even if she wanted to.

Ettore rises to his feet, giving one more flattened lap over her core, sucking at her clit, which makes her twitch. Her glazed over, wettened eyes meet his, the blue almost entirely encompassed by black. He looks like an animal who's just tasted blood again after a long time of being caged. She doesn't entirely know why, but it makes her throb with desire, and it frightens even her to know that such a dangerous man, a criminal no less, is making her feel this way.

It makes her think, is she any better for enjoying it as much as she did.

He looks down at her, almost entirely bared to him, his reddened marks blossoming over her skin in early bruises. Her fucked-out face, a mix of lust and confusion, with that tell-tale pink to her cheeks.

A dangerous grin widens across his face.

"I meant it you know…" he says, dark and low, "...I'm not using that fucking Box ever again"

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#ettore x you #ettore high life #ettore smut #ettore x reader #ettore #ettore x y/n #Ettore x oc #high life fanfiction #high life fanfic #high life movie #high life 2018 #ettore fanfic #ettore fan fic #ettore fan fiction #ettore fanfiction #ettore high life smut #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #ewanverse

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dazedvivenne · 2 months

Note

Can u write about smut w rafe/drew where reader is jealous of him spending too much time w a different girl/boy ?

RAFE CAMERON - EROTIC MOUTH

Short summary; You go to Barry’s house since Rafe hasn’t talked to you for days.

Trigger warnings: Throat fucking, face fucking, DUB-CON, degrading words, Barry watches, DARK! RAFE CAMERON.

A couple days has passed since you had last seen Rafe, you knew he was spending a lot of time at his dealers house. You didn’t know why though, which raised suspicions that he could be cheating on you.

Rafe usually spent his days with you, at least one hour a day. A couple days without Rafe felt strange and lonely, like a weight you needed was lifted off your shoulders.

You decided you would show up at Barry’s house without a warning, hoping to catch him in the act, but at the same time hoping to catch nothing at all.

You got onto your bike and started peddling to Barry’s house, you knew where it was cause Rafe brought you there once. Just to show you off to Barry.

Rafe’s truck was parked on Barry’s driveway. You peddled through the grass of Barry’s front lawn, a couple of chairs on the lawn. The grass was overall, you hoped off of the bike. Letting it fall to the ground as you creepily walked onto the porch of the house, tiptoeing your way to the front door.

You stood in front of the door, grabbing onto the doorknob, not prepared to see anything.

You took a deep breath before swinging the door open and stepping in the house, you saw Rafe sitting on the couch smoking. Barry was sat on his recliner.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Rafe immediately stood up, approaching you and grabbing your wrist to look you in the eyes. “You think you can just barge into my friends house?” Rafe asked angrily.

Your eyes watered, “Rafe I wanted to see you.” You admitted, pulling your wrist away from Rafe’s deadly grip.

Rafe rolled his eyes, “You could have called or texted, not just walk into this fucking house. You’re lucky Barry didn’t shoot your ass. Apologize.” Rafe demanded aggressively, clearly he was mad at you for this.

You look at Barry, “I’m sorry for walking into your house without knocking or announcing.” You spoke softly, keeping your cool.

Barry chuckled, his gold tooth shining into your eyes. “It’s alright princess.” Barry smiled, picking up his beer and taking a sip of it. The nickname he called you made Rafe’s blood boil.

Rafe towered over you, his eyes piercing through your body. “You know-“ Rafe hummed for a moment. “I think you should get on your knees.” Rafe offered with a smirk, not caring that Barry was right there.

You glance at Barry then back at Rafe, “Right now? Here?” You stumbled on your words, you didn’t want to give Rafe a blowjob in front of Barry.

Rafe nodded his head, leaning closer down to your ear. “Get on your fucking knees.” Rafe whispered in your ear, his voice husky and deep.

You obliged, dropping down into your knees. Rafe pushed some of your hair out of your face, your hands unbuttoned his shorts, pulling them down to his ankles.

Barry’s eyebrows raised, he wasn’t expecting Rafe to do this in front of him. But he didn’t mind. Barry leaned back in his chair, watching as you pulled Rafe’s underwear down to Rafe’s mid thigh.

Rafe’s left hand bundled all of your hair into a fist of his. You slowly put Rafe’s tip into your mouth, sucking on the tip, swiping your tongue over his slit. A low groan coming out of Rafe’s mouth.

Your hands stroked Rafe’s shaft, you thought you were going at a good pace until Rafe’s grip on your hair pulled you away from him.

“Sit still, alright?” Rafe requested, knowing it wasn’t a request and more of a demand you stayed still on your knees.

Rafe slaps his cock onto your cheek, Barry chuckles a bit as Rafe does this. You felt slightly humiliated, being used in front of an almost stranger.

Rafe rubbed his tip onto your lips, “Open.” Rafe commanded, his hand gently cupping your jaw, your mouth was now fully open. Rafe slid his cock into your wet mouth.

Rafe’s hips started bucking into your mouth, his hands started to grip onto the back of your head, he was fucking your face roughly.

Your hands grabbed onto his thighs, trying to push him away from you so you could at least get some air. Rafe’s hands pushed your head even further into his pelvis, your nose against his happy trail.

You breathed rapidly through your nose but it felt impossible when Rafe’s stomach was against it. You started to gag a bit on Rafe, it made him moan. Feeling the vibration of your throat onto his dick.

“You’re such a slut on letting me fuck your face in front of Barry.” Rafe grumbled, his hips bucking into your face at an even faster pace.

Barry licked his lips, enjoying the view of tears running down your face as you choked on Rafe’s dick. Barry’s hand went down to his clothed cock, his hand rubbing it for some friction to get rid of his boner.

You felt your throat burning as Rafe’s cock slammed into it, hot tears pouring down your face as gag and gasps for air escaped your mouth.

Your fingernails started to dig into the flesh of Rafe’s thighs, Rafe continued to do this, enjoying the view of you on your knees. Rafe hoped this would prove you were his little bitch to Barry.

Finally Rafe’s hips stopped bucking into your throat, his cock resting in your mouth as he came into your mouth.

You felt his cock twitch inside of your mouth then squirt of liquid hit the back of your throat, after a few moments of Rafe grunting, he pulled his cock out of your mouth, a string of salvia leaving your mouth.

“Swallow it.” Rafe grunted, watching as your swallowed all of Rafe’s cum. “Good girl.”

You panted heavily, Rafe’s hands went under your arm pit and picked you up. “Let’s go home, yeah?” Rafe asked with a smirk.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, wrapping your arms over his shoulders as he wiped away your tears.

“Bye, Barry.” Rafe said smugly, walking out of Barry’s house with the slam of the door.

#rafe cameron angst #smut #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #dark rafe cameron #Rafe Cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you

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first-edition · 1 year

Text

Attention

Billy Hargrove x Fem! Reader

sum- You’re annoyed with the lack of attention, your boyfriend, billy has given you after an absolutely amazing night. You do everything in you power to provoke him and lord have mercy, does it work, a little too well.

CW- dom!billy, cussing, name calling, ass slapping, pinv, sex, Smut, mention of drug use, mention of alcohol, oral male recovering, noncon-con, dub-con, 18+ minors dni, nicknames, kinfe kink if you squint.

Thank you so much for this request

THIS IS AN NSFW WRITING MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Billy had taken you into his bedroom to show you his new digs. He’d finally moved outta his parents and into his own huge mobile home with Max to keep her safe. The moment Max spent the night with el, billy swept you away from school.

On his new bed was where he fucked you for a straight 4 hours. He fucked you with his fingers, he fucked you with his tongue, he fucked you with his cock. He drew six orgasams from you until you were pleading for mercy, overly sensitive with tears running down your face, and hair messed up. Your body deliciously bruised.

The only thing he wanted to do was show you how good you’ve been to him the past 9 months you’ve been together. But that was 2 weeks ago. You haven’t seen or talked to Billy in 3 days and he’s been distant for the rest. You’ve asked Max about him and she always says he’s busy.

You knew that there were many ways to get your boyfriend's attention. Sending him lewd pics, showing up at his place, or telling him where you’d be for the night and he would always show up and act like he was “just passing through.”

But one way that would absolutely get you in trouble was the way you were going to be at the party. Cheyenne Gibson hosting a senior school party and being best friends with her gave you a front row seat to see the invitation list. Many of the horny jocks of the swim, and football team were going to be there and of course so was billy.

You walk down the stairs of your house wearing a tiny, tight, black dress and matching heels. Your hair is up in a ponytail and you’ve straightened your hair. You’re phone dings looking at seeing a text from billy asking if your going to Cheyenne’s party and if you need a ride.

Rolling your eyes you close your phone and leave your house.

Walking into the party you already see drunk girls dancing up on other girls' boyfriends and people doing lines off bitches ass’s.

“Y/n!!” Chyenne squeals hugging you.

“Hey! Ohh you look so good.” You smile.

“No bitch you look hot as fuck did billy let you leave like that?” She asks

“He doesn't know and I don't care.” You laugh as she does as well and hands you a solo cup absolutely full of spiked punch. Your first drink of the night but certainly not your last.

Since you’d turned your phone off you couldn’t know that Billy had been calling for over 2 hours.

“Y/n! Y/n!” Chyenne catches you on the dance floor.

“Someone special just arrived.” She giggles over the loud music. Looking over at the place she gestures you see Billy walking through the crowd as some other guys greet him.

You smile at her and nod she shimmies off and you walk to the bathroom down the hall and around the corner seeing a line, you don't actually need to go, you just know that other guys hang around waiting to talk to girls who are waiting.

“Hey.” A voice says you turn to see Jake, captain of the football team.

“Hey, how are you?” You ask

“Chill.” He says handing you a blunt you take it and inhale the smoke before handing it back to him blowing out the smoke in perfect O rings. He chuckles at your talent.

“You alone tonight?” He asks you to nod.

“Good you gotta go or you just hanging around?” He asks you shake your head

“Just standing here…wanna dance?” You ask if he looks you up and down and nods, taking your hands leading you back out.

Dancing with your back against his chest your ass rubs against his crotch giving him the most obvious boner his hands are all over your body and face in your neck inhaling your strawberry and cream scent as you let your hair down.

Another guy comes and joins and you gladly dance with him pretty soon you're surrounded by people touching up on you and dancing, smoking and drinking. Through the vibration and lights you see Billy across the room spotting his face immediately drop in anger, his eyes dark as he lights a cigarette watching you.

You smirk and purposely bend forward the guy behind you gripping your hips grinding against your ass, your small dress riding up. You stand again wrapping your arms around the boys watching as billy boils.

You turn away from Billy facing the other guys. But before you know it another set of hands are gripped tightly around your hips.

“Miss me that much hmm?” Billy’s voice hits your ears, you giggle, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Fucking slut.” He growls his hand wrapping around your throat. Making you gasp.

“I've been calling you…you ignoring me?” He ask.

You pull back from him,

“you’re one to talk bill.” You turn away to walk off but he grabs you putting you over his shoulder and walks outta the party. He walks to his car opening the door and puts you in the seat then shuts the door walking around the side getting into his driver's seat.

“You asshole my car is here!” You exclaim.

“Sit the fuck down!” He barks at you and you sit back in the seat crossing your arms. He screeches off at his place.

He gets out of the car and you do as well but he picks you up again over his shoulder.

“I can fucking walk billy!” You whine.

“Shut up!” He slaps your ass making you squeal. He opens the door.

You see max, will, and el all playing a board game sitting on the floor.

“Hey y/n!” She exclaims, always happy to see you. You move your hair out of your face and smile.

“Hey!” You smile

“You alright?” She asks as Billy walks past them, still over his shoulder.

“We’ll see.” You giggle as Billy takes you out of her sight down the hall to his room, shutting the door and putting you on the bed.

“Nice to see you too.” You huff taking your heels off.

“What?! Why are you so fucking desperate today huh?” Billy yells at you as you sit on his bed, your legs crossed, you don't make eye contact with him.

“You’ve been throwing yourself out at everyone except me, your fucking boyfriend, tits out, ass flashing, your cunt is out for the world your not wearing a dress youre wearing a fucking napkin and a shoe string to cover your fucking clit for fucksake.” He says angrily

“You left me alone after! For 2 fucking weeks I haven’t seen you in three da-“ billy grabs your face.

“Take that language with me and see what happens.” He says. You look up at him.

“B-Billy..” you say, your big eyes shining. A growl rumbles in his throat.

“I know what’s wrong hmm..i fucking know princess.” He says pushing his hair back letting go of you before unclasping his belt. You shift in your seat now sitting on your heels, your legs tucked under you.

“This what you want hmm?” He says unbuttoning his pants just enough. The patch of matching colored hair on his groin is exposed as he pulls his pants and boxer front down enough to expose his cock that you've had in you so many times.

“Was it not enough last time hm, not enough that I fucked you for 4 hours, gave you 6 orgasams huh?” He says stroking his already hardened cock from your trickery earlier. You don't say anything and look down.

“No, you fucking slut, look at me.” He grabs you by your chin standing above you.

“Mm.” You whine biting your lip.

“Since your gonna act like a sleeve ill fuck you like one huh?! HUH!” He snaps at you. Your eyes look up at such a beautiful sight you are so close to his dick that your breath makes him twitch.

“Open your mouth.” He says you obey by sticking your tongue out. Slapping his heavy tip on top of it strings of saliva follow before you close your lips around him and take him. He hisses at the movement.

“Put your arms behind your back.” He says you listen, grabbing your wrist.

“Suck.” He orders you once again to obey and do so, sucking him off by bobbing your head.

He groans watching you take him in your mouth.

“I don’t know if i made myself clear before hand about how to get attention, they surely wasn’t fucking it” he says.

“Mmm.” You reply.

He nods and grabs your head pushes his dick down your throat making your moan the vibration causing him to twitch.

He continues to drool on your face, spilling from your mouth. The lewd sounds of sloshing and light gagging he pulls out you lean over inhaling the much needed oxygen wiping your mouth before you can look back up at him he pushes you back against the bed. The click of a switchblade and the shine of a blade close to your skin as he tears the dress from your body and removes your thong. Removing his pants and shirt he pulls his belt from the pants and makes cuffs attaching your wrists to them and hooking it to the post of his bed.

He pushes your legs apart and without hesitation enters you. No foreplay, for prep.

“Ah-!” You scream out he fucks you already over-stimulating you.

“You liked rubbing up on those guys hm?” He asks, gripping your breast in hand.

His mother comes up lightly, slapping your cheek.

“Answer me.” He huffs.

“Y-yes.” You answer he grips your neck shoving himself lathe way in making you clench around him letting out a loud moan.

“Fuckin look me!” He yells that you look up to him over you.

You see his expression on his face anger but mostly hurt. His dark eyes are glazed over. You thought making billy jealousy would be fun but now it just hurts you too see him like this only wanting you to show you something to teach you a lesson.

You lunge forward your lips connecting with his. If he were actually punishing you he’d pull away but no this time he kisses you back with passion. His tongue pushes its ways into your mouth making you moan.

You pull back as he kisses down your neck removing his hand.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry billy!” You say choking back your tears as he brushes your body with nips and sucks.

He pulls his lips back and reaches up, removing your hands from the cuffs. Your arms immediately wrap around him pushing him off you so you're on top. You sink back into him riding him. Groans leave his throat as his hands grips your waist.

“Fuck-“ he curses and your grind against him.

You just wanted his attention, his love. You wanted him to notice you as if you were back in freshman year seeing him walk around.

Hr thrusts up into you moans and breathes leave your body. His thumb circles your clit making your clench around him, your nails clawing at his chest. The over whelming situation of him fucking your tightens the knot in your stomach.

“B—billy fuck..please” you moan out.

“You gonna cum baby?! Hm” he asks you to nod breathlessly.

He pushes you off him and turns you around your back facing him. You wiggle your ass making him chuckle as he smacks his hand down on your cheek before squeezing and soothing the mark with a kiss.

“Arch baby.” He instructs you to listen , arching slightly; he rubs his tip against your strip before entering you again, the new angle making you tight as ever.

He sucks in a breath gripping your ass.

“Shit- those fucker you were dancing with wish they had your little pussy around thier dicks.” He chuckles as he thrusts into you. Your arms hug the pillow to your face as it muffles your moans.

"Such a good girl," Billy praised as he snapped his hips forward harder. Clawing at your waist, forcing you against him harder and you were more than happy to oblige. Another slap coming down on your ass each making you gasp into the pillow.

Billy grabs your hair pulling you up into him.

“You're mine. You got that. Fucking mine. In every way.” He says roughly thrusting up into you.

“Y-yes s-sir.” You manage out before clamping down around his cock cumming hard. Your eyes rolling back as he reaches down rubbing your clit making you squirm in his grasp.

He lets you go and with a few more sloppy thrusts Billy is cumming deep into you. You feel him twitching growing as he cums.

You pant putting your hand on your stomach feeling the budget of your boyfriends dick still settling in you. It's gone as he pulls out leaving a trail of kisses down your shoulders as he gets up disappearing in the bathroom he’s got in his room for a minute before coming back grabbing a shirt from his drawer he pulls on his boxers and walks back over to you.

He runs the cold damp cloth along your body cleaning you off before chucking it into the clothes hamper.

“Come here baby.” He says pulling you up into his arms as you sit up.

“Let me see.” He says looking at your top oversees the hickies scattered along your body as well as the prominent mark around your neck.

“I'm sorry honey.” He says kissing your neck lightly. You shake your head, not placing your hands on his face, pressing your lips softly against him.

“Don't be.” You smile. He puts the shirt over over body pulling the covers back as you get in under.

“Stay here for the night okay.” He says you nod holding your arms out to him he joins up as you cuddle up next to him.

(Hello to my amazing readers im officially open fro requests, smut, angst, fluff, almost everything your heart could wish for, shoot me a dm or an anonymous message and I’ll be back to you!!!!)

#billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargove smut #billy hargove imagine #billyhargrovexreader #billy Hargrove x reader smut #billy Hargrove x reader #stranger things smut #billy smut

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bucknastysbabe · 10 months

Note

WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN WESTERN Sheriff Lee Bodecker WOOF WOOF BARK BARK ARF BARK GRRRR WOOF

BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK GRRRRRR HERE YOU GO NONNIE I HOPE YOU ENJOY OUR SHERIFF

AU Bingo - Western - Lee Bodecker

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Surprise moment, non-con play, breeding kink, dirty talk, restraints, outlaw!reader, pnv!sex, PUSSY EATING LIKE A CHAMP, slight overstim, Lee is Possessive, confessions of love

A/N: I don’t beta we die like Lee in the woods😀

Well the gig was up. Maybe. Probably so.

You’d likely be hanging in the morning in front of an excited crowd of idiotic townspeople. Some bounty hunter by the name of Arwin dropped you right off into Knockemstiff’s sheriffs building. Here you sat in a minuscule jail cell, some crazy frothing at the mouth next to you and this freak catcalling from the right.

You were doing your own thing trying to get money for your gang when the bounty hunter surprised you in a damn trap. A trap? What were you, some sort of rookie? Peering out the tiny window you frowned. The gang was probably not going to get your ass. Left here to rot.

Clanging on the metal bars jerked your attention forward. A man with dark hair and rather intense blue eyes smirked at you. He tipped his hat, sheriff’s badge gleaming on his chest. You hissed, “What’chu want? Ya’ gonna hang me regardless. I know what I did.”

He cocked his head and hummed, “Nah. I don’t think you did sweetheart. Think we need to do some interrogatin’ down in the pit here.”

Your heart began to race. Something in his eyes told you this wasn’t a normal ‘interrogation’. The sheriff stalked forward, big body looming over your own, thick fingers coming to grip your chin. Chains rattled as your hands shook in your lap. He grinned, “Awe, lookit’chu, scared lil’ bunny now huh?”

You grimaced, cheeks flushing as you looked away.

“C’mon then,” he huffed, jerking you by your bonds. The sheriff practically hauled you with one arm, walking in that slow strut of his. You spat, “Fuck you, they’ll come get me and shoot your ass!”

“Sure they will, sweetheart.”

“Stop calling me that!,” you barked as the man shoved you down the stairs, you stumbling and spurs clacking irritatingly. It was dark down in the ‘pit’. A table, a chair, and an ominous amount of weapons and torture devices. The sheriff crooned, “Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna mess your pretty face up with none a’ that.”

Your cheeks darkened further in embarrassment. A big hand shoved you down in the chair, hooking your manacled wrists above your head with a clink. He drew closer, getting a good look, you could see his last name on the Badge. Bodecker.

“You can just call me Lee if ya’ like, little outlaw,” he pinched your thigh, “Or bunny. That’s whatcha’ are without that gang or yer’ guns.” You glared at him and spat, “Oh fuck off you pudgy sonnuva’ bitch! I oughta.”

You didn’t get to finish the sentence as two fingers slipped in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue roughly, drool leaking out. His handsome face split into a grin, cooing, “You oughta what bun? Kill me? Cuz’ it looks like I gotcha’ to myself.”

Whimpering helplessly and jerking in the bonds had him cooing again, snaking his other hand up your strong thigh. Lee sighed, “I thought you were jus’ the prettiest thing on all those bounty posters, wonderin’ how such a sweet face could be so, so bad?”

All you could do was drool around his fingers, lashes growing wet from tears. You willed away the growing slick between your thighs. This was wrong, so wrong. But you wanted the brunette to coo and stroke you more, down deep. Didn’t get much more than a rough fuck on the run.

He grinned with pretty teeth, grunting as he got down on his knees. Easing his fingers out of your now swollen lips the sheriff sucked on them, slurping with a low moan. Your cheeks burned with heat, pussy throbbing in time with your rising heartbeat.

“If you’re good ta’ me, maybe I’ll let you off,” digits curled around your gunbelt, “Or maybe I’ll just keep ya’ locked up in my place.” You shook your head, wanting to growl but whimpered, “Please…no.”

The gunbelt was discarded and he began to unbutton your pants, peeling them down your thighs, roughened from all the time on horseback. You looked up and away, lips trembling as Lee lowly whistled, “Gorgeous little bunny, not so scary without those big guns huh?”

Big hands spread your thighs apart. You could feel his breath traveling up to your weeping cunt, pressing a couple of kisses along the way. With a strangled grunt you barked, “Q-quit playin’ around!” Bodecker slapped your inner thigh roughly, blue eyes blazing as he glared up at you, full cheeks puffy as he frowned.

Biting down on your lip the sheriff hoisted legs over broad shoulders and lapped a stripe up your pussy. Your wrists clacked in the restraints, mouth falling open with a moan. Bodecker squeezed and massaged your thighs as he licked and ate at you hungrily, moaning.

“Christ!,” you hollered, belly tightened.

The brunette moved to suckle and pointedly lick at your swollen pearl, making you squirm and shy away from the intense pleasure. You had nowhere to go— simply stuck whining and dripping for this horrid man. Bodecker shoved the same thick fingers from earlier into your pussy, stretching and curling maddeningly.

Arching your back you met his pleased expression, lips wet and red. Lee sucked on his teeth and laughed, “Bunny just lovin’ this huh? Yeah, I think m’gonna keep you to myself. Taste too sweet.” He dove back onto your clit before you could rack your muddled brain for an insult.

Involuntarily your thighs clamped tighter onto him as the man curled his wicked fingers faster into that soft spot, tongue flicking and flicking and flicking. Tears streamed down your cheeks now, head tossed back as you painfully arched. In a pitiful whine you said, “Oh, oh fuck Lee, don’t stop, m’so close!” He hummed around you, eyes rolling up as you gushed on his fingers and chin.

You thrashed and cried out, chains jingling at a fever pitch. All you could do was cry and howl his name as the pleasure ran through hot veins.

Eventually the pressure died down and you blinked slowly, legs still curled around his shoulders. Lee pressed a little kiss to your knee, smirking. He asked, “You okay? That was a different little game than we usually play.” You easily picked the lock to the manacles, hands coming to rest on Lee’s cute cheeks.

“Mhm, more than okay, that was fun.”

His blues eyed you grumpily, the man murmuring, “I don’t like playing the big bad guy with you, already do that in real life.” You slid your thighs off the crooked sheriff’s shoulders and into his lap, arms coming around him. Kissing him gently you shrugged, “S’fun to pretend, but we ain’t gotta do it anymore.”

Lee frowned, hands now at your waist. He rumbled, “When’s the rest of your crew rollin’ into town? Y’know I can’t stand Leroy.” Rolling your still slick cunt over your man’s cock had his breath hitching. You breathed, “Mmm, probably round sunset. We got all day with eachother.” You nipped at his ear with a small smile.

“Good,” he stated with a new intensity, “Y’gonna let me fuck that pretty pussy in this mudhole or back in my place?”

He was right, the bed was a much more viable option. Even if it was about to break as you rode him hard into the mattress. Lee gasped your name, meeting your bounces weakly. His cute tummy was soft underneath your groping hands.

The bed creaked in time with your fever pitch fucking, riding Lee’s thick cock with helpless moans and cries. He rambled, “Ah, bun, fuuuck, missed ya’.” Leaning down to kiss his eager lips you grinded down on that sweet spot again, whining against his lips, “M-missed you too baby!”

“You should stay with me all the time, ain’t gotta ride around like that, we can handle business round here,” he panted, groaning between words.

Your hips stilled a little as he purred, “C’mon bun, wouldn’t it be nice, I’ll put a ring on it and a babe in your belly.” The words sent a hot streak up your spine, another shrill whine from your lips. Lee grinned and flipped you into the bed, bigger and softer frame pressing you firmly down.

He fucked into you at a brutal pace, mouth lapping at your bouncing tits. The brunette grunted, “Know ya’ want it, being a mama, handling business and a babe. So damn perfect bun. Gonna let me fill you up this time?”

You wanted it. Wanted it real bad. Riding round all the time was tiring, and Lee was real good to you. Too good for how you ran around on him. Pulling him flush you mewled, “Please, do it, fuckin’ breed me! I love you!”

He mouthed wetly against your sensitive neck, belly and hips slapping roughly against your own. Lee growled, “Y’sure? You wanna’ be knocked up? Y’aint going nowhere, I’ll drag yer’ pretty ass up to the chapel with my cum drippin’ between your legs.” You wailed and clung tighter to him, begging for it like a two nickel whore.

“I love you too bunny,” the brunette groaned as he shoved his cock deep up inside you, flooding your cunt with his seed. The feeling sent you reeling, coming apart sniveling and sobbing, fluttering around him with each contraction of ecstasy. Oh…you really loved this.

Lee kissed your slobbery lips, promising darkly, “Relax now sugar, c’mon, I ain’t letting you out the bed until I’m sure it’s taken. The gang can wait n’the saloon.”

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #au bingo #outlaw!reader #ask answered

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yorshie · 3 months

Text

Ritual in Midnight Blue

Bayverse Foot Leo x Reader

Warning: SFW as in there's not smut, but this one shot is exploring darker themes. Dub con, fear of violence, basically a relationship under coercion. Wolf x rabbit vibes

Song used as reference: I know I’m a wolf by discovery of an afterlife

There was a certain ritual to it, even if the shadows of the little unknowns clung to the shapes and curves of him, tinted every gesture and phrase he offered. The weight of each interaction was a small pebble placed on the center of your chest, a combination of weight that made each breath a struggle, an echo of his heavy hand around your throat.

You never heard his arrival. In all things he was silent, a mere breeze floating through your room until he drew back whatever curtain he hid himself with, whatever magic he wielded that allowed him to pass unseen. Between one blink and the next the mundane feel of your home would peel away, leaving a dream like countenance in his wake.

It was late when you stepped out of your shower and into the little hallway that connected to your living room, tiredness pulling at your limbs and navigating more so by memory than any visual cue, when your foot stopped just shy of where the soft yellow light of your bathroom gave way deep blue.

The old clock you thrifted a few months ago was loud in the dark, the tic tic tic of the iron hand moving around the only sound beyond the gurgle of water passing through pipes. Normal sounds, but the hair along the nape of your neck lifted, the ghost of a breath glancing over the thin skin. You swallowed heavily, every muscle tightening to attention at the thought of what you’d find waiting for you by the window in your living room. That he was waiting for you.

It was a struggle to pick out the shape of him against the blue-black shadows that blanketed the corners of the room. They swallowed up every detail, until you’d half convinced yourself you were staring at your empty armchair.

The ruse was broken when he turned his head just right and the lamplight outside your window glanced off his irises. The points of blue shine gave nothing away as he watched you step fully into the room, and your mind turned to the usual comparison of a wolf deciding a rabbit’s fate.

It was always like this, every time he followed you home. A long moment of silence when you fancied he was internally struggling, arguing against whatever want curled in his chest. You often wondered, eyes drifting to the dark armor, the swords strapped across his back, if this would be your last night. If his sense of duty would outweigh whatever conflict was brewing deep within him.

He took up too much space, too much oxygen in your little room, and as the silence lengthened you turned inwards, mind following a steady path to the tune of the metal clock hands, back to the night he first assessed you.

The night you almost died.

Your gaze trailed down to his hands, the three fingers almost hidden completely by the gauntlets covering them, remembering the steady way he pressed the flat of his blade to your throat, the strength corded in his grip when he had your wind pipe in his palm, and entertained the thought that you were already dead. That he had killed you the night you’d been too stupid to walk away. These midnight meetings were a sad farce of an afterlife, but every brush with him felt a little bit like death, a little bit like borrowed time. Your life belonged to him, after all. He held the hands of the clock your heart beat to firmly in his grasp.

After a long moment, he spoke the magic words that freed you from your stand off, voice low and rich, the notes slipping past your defenses and reeling you back in from the gentle drift of your thoughts:

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

Your spine softened as unrealized tension slipped away, and you almost told him ‘you should. I don’t know why you haven’t. It’s only a matter of time’, but instead you swallowed the words, let them cut the inside of your throat, and watched as he stood slowly and crossed the room to your little table.

He started undoing the buckles of his armor, up underneath his arms, shedding steel and leather and placing it neatly on top of the wooden surface, eyes on his task and not on the way you lingered to watch him.

‘What’s your name?’ You wanted to ask, watching as the little pile grew, ‘why are you doing this?’ A thick belt of knives, the sharp edges glinting, clattered as he set them down, and you inhaled sharply as the desire to yell the next question at him bubbled up behind your tongue, ‘what do you WANT?’

At the sound he paused, hands smoothing down the leather of the harness that kept his swords in place, his beak tilted towards the table in a downward angle that hid his expression. You were struck with a visual spark, comparing the slow strip to the first few times he visited, back when this part of the ritual didn’t exist and he would spend the night tucked into a corner of whatever room you were in.

Watching you, silently, haunting your footsteps as you moved about your nightly routine. Those nights were sleepless, when you still weren’t sure if he would rethink his decision and end your life before you even realized it was gone.

His hands resumed their task, and the slight noise of his sword sheaths being placed beside his armor on the table brought you back once more. You must have made some small movement at the sight of the polished, meticulously maintained weapons, because his head tilted, eyes cut to the side to pin you in place. The pop of blue against midnight black was your only clue as to where he was looking despite feeling his gaze like a physical caress.

Your shoulders touched the wall at your back, and you belatedly remembered that you were only wearing a towel, and despite having never broken his word there was very little in the way of protection between you and him.

Not that it would have made any difference. When he only looked at you patiently however, before returning his attention to the wraps along his arms, you wondered once more why he was doing this.

Why hadn’t he killed you the night you met, when your throat was in his hands and the cold contemplation on his face revealed he meant to? What stayed his hand, what continued to save your life every time you brushed up against him?

What did he gain, from these little encounters?

Your brow furrowed, contemplating, watching as he slowly unwrapped his arms, tendons and muscle catching on the light trailing out from the bathroom. The soft pattern of light rippling over his beak signaled his head turning right before you were pierced by his gaze again.

“Have you eaten?” He asked in that deceptively soft voice, starting to unravel the wide belt at his waist, fingers dipping to pull his tucked shirt out from underneath the material before tightening it back in place.

“Yes.” You whispered, not bothering to move, knowing he could be on you in an instant if he wanted, knowing he’d eventually tell you what to do. You watched as nimble fingers, covered in fine scars that you could make out even in the low light, undid a series of hidden buttons. With a small sigh through his nose, he reached backwards, arms curling up over his head and giving you a show of taunt muscles as he undid the cloth knotted behind his neck that kept his sleeves up and out of the way.

“Go lay down.” He ordered softly, tucking the cloth into a neat little circle before bending at the waist to reach his shoes, giving you a glimpse of the scars mapping out constellations amid the whorls of his shell where his shirt hung loose and open.

You half turned from the sight, swallowing down the warm, confused roll of your stomach, before the cool air tickled the back of your knees and you forced yourself to ask, “clothes?”

He looked up, face unreadable, taking in the oversized towel you clutched to yourself in a slow perusal, lingering on where the hem stopped just above your knees.

After another long moment, he nodded in acceptance, and you tiptoed into your room, shucked the towel and dressed in your pajamas in record time despite knowing he would stay out until you were safely under the covers.

You almost picked the sweatpants and long sleeved shirt, wanting the barrier, wanting something solid and safe between your skin and his scales, but the remembered way his eyes flashed in the dark eyeing the skin of your shoulders and calves stayed your hand. You settled for shorts and a tank top, something fit more so for the height of summer than the beginning of winter, but it was soft against your skin. You had the remembered feel of his fingers smoothing over the material in the back of your mind as you hurried to your bed.

This part of the ritual, you thought, pulling back your comforter and climbing in to settle in the dead center, didn’t start until after the Lull, when you thought he had forgotten about you.

The relief, thinking back to that period, was a tainted thing, a heady connection that a sick, twisted sense of longing had somehow crept its way into.

A rabbit should not long for this feeling, you knew, heartbeat racing and eyes closing when he purposefully let the floorboard just outside your bedroom creak in warning. A rabbit should not go along with the wolf.

After the two week Lull, where he did not visit you once, there was a breaking point for him where you think he almost granted your twisted wish. When he finally darkened your windowsill once more, a different edge of violent clung to him, upfront and bristling for conflict instead of the lethal patience he usually oozed.

Then, he hadn’t uttered a word, hadn’t patiently dismantled his gear. He’d appeared mid way through your dinner, bloody and breathing heavy like a bull. In the space between blinks he had you pinned half under your table, plates and cups flying when the edge of his shell hit a leg while pulling you down.

For the first time ever, you had tried to fight him, something you hadn’t even managed the night you met. The reflexive slap certainly wouldn’t have done anything if he had truly meant to end whatever was happening between you that night, but you tallied it in triumph later when you were alone, a silent indication to yourself that you weren’t just a rabbit, after all. At the time however, you weren’t sure he even felt it, certainly he didn’t flinch, only bore down on you, teeth flashing in the low light.

You didn’t even have the time to scream, terror freezing the cry in your throat when his beak slammed into the dip near your collar. But instead of the tight pain of teeth breaking into your artery, he gave a low, tortured keen. He shivered over you, deep breaths pressing you into the carpet, trapping you underneath him until dawn crept into the room and illuminated the streaks of red clinging to his scales.

There was never a repeat performance of that raw emotion ever again.

The following night he arrived later, so late you had let your guard down. You were already in bed when he appeared in your doorway. When you had only laid there, daze and skittish, panicking over the illusion of intimacy your bedroom granted, he had offered those beginning words once more, had taken his time to remove his gear where you could see before he joined you on the bed.

A dip in the mattress, a heavy knee by your own, brought you back again, and with a flutter of lashes you found him hovering, watching for the sign you were aware of him entering your space.

He was alien looking in the dark. The undershirt clung to his shoulders, doing little to hide the hard edges of keratin underneath. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he wasn’t human, but it wasn’t until you first shared a bed with him, saw the shell curving where his spine should be, that you realized he must be a turtle.

You wondered passingly the first night, if it was a quirk of fate or the will of man that led him to occupy the shape he did now, if whatever way he came to be like this could also explain the apparent fascination he had with you.

What was he after, you thought again, as he placed his other knee beside your calf and stretched out over you. What was so special about this?

His hands, callused and cool, so much larger than your own, captured your wrists, led them to opposite sides of the mattress and pressed them tightly into the comforter. His fingers settled into their remembered places, and you fought not to stiffen, remembering the bruises he’d left on your wrists the first couple nights of restraining you, how you’d silently cried while he tried to learn how to hold you.

His thumbs whispered over the rushing dash of your heart locked underneath the thin skin of your wrists, and you just knew he was remembering as well.

Your legs shifted under the covers, restless for what came next, feeling the ghostly imprint of his beak slotting against the heartbeat thundering just under your jaw, the weight of him keeping you pinned for as long as he wanted.

He deviated though, broke the next steps of the ritual, blue eyes holding your gaze captive in the dark before his head dipped and the lines of certainty were blurred with a shuffle of his knees and the weight of his cheek pressing against the swell of your stomach.

He sighed, the movement only discernible where his plastron cut into your hip bones, the tip of his beak nudging just under the protective cage of your ribs.

You couldn’t control the instinctual shiver that erupted at the sensation, the quiver in your stomach, the latent fear at the unknown that had you gasping at the ceiling.

Once more, in a whispered voice that finally brought a muffled noise from your mouth, he broke the ritual the two of you built over the months. “It’s alright, you’re alright.”

He held himself so carefully, so tightly over you, and for the first time your interactions were turned on their sides in your mind. You wondered if the way he held you down is more for his sake of control than any fear you’d slip away. Another shiver almost knocked you against his hold and a low rumble answered from deep in his chest.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He reiterated, and the heated line has the air bursting from you, the darkened ceiling disappearing in a haze as foggy stars took over your vision.

“Then why are you here?” You heard a voice ask, but it sounds foreign in your ears, a quiet, near silent break in character that you instantly wished you could take back.

He stilled over you, for a moment, before giving a slow pet of your hands with the side of his fingers. All your muscles tightened underneath him, shock mixing with alarm in your muddled mind at the soft touch, thoughts slow as quicksand sucked at the trail of thoughts you’d pieced together over the course of interacting with him.

He’d built the ritual, piece by piece, deviated and pushed the boundaries of what you were willing and comfortable with over and over, in order to get something he wanted. But what was it?

The answer hovered just out of reach, despite the way he’d patiently led you further and further each time, but the end goal stretched out in the darkness in front of you, hazy and indiscrete and unknown, unknown could get you killed-

His next words only confirmed your suspicions.

“You’re so soft.” He whispered, the words traveling through your skin and settling in your chest. His head dipped, gave the barest nuzzle to your mid section, and in concert to the little movement your brows crumpled over the revelation that burst like a star in your mind.

Oh… oh. Soft. Did he even know what he wanted, what he was chasing, pushing the both of you towards? Was this stilted, slow dance his way of feeling out, pushing up against your boundaries until he found the soft points he coveted?

If… if he stopped chasing the softness, would he kill you then?

Another slow pet of this thumb over the softest part of your wrist, lingering over the fine bones hidden underneath your skin, and another thought came unbidden to wash away the panicked edge of the others.

Why would he wait months, waste months, for this from you if there was any chance he’d end your life?

The thought had you sinking into your bed, thinking, careful to temper the blind hope of the errant thought with the immediate weight of the giant turtle over you. He was dangerous, a killer, but maybe, just maybe, you could trust him with this.

He held the position through the long hours of the night, not pushing for more, his breath slow and even against your stomach and his body slowly warming from the close proximity to yours.

You always promised yourself that you wouldn’t sleep, couldn’t possibly sleep, with him holding you so, but some times in between the slow, soft touches and the steady beat of his hear against your legs, you found yourself drifting off.

Your dreams were vague things that blended with reality, where you weren’t sure if you were pinned down like an insect to be studied or cradled like something precious, the only thing for certain is you couldn’t move even if you wanted to.

When you woke in the morning, something curled up in your right hand drew your attention, amid the absence of your strange nighttime suitor.

A little blossom, a delicate thing, safely tucked into the dip of your palm where it wouldn’t be crushed. You turned over the white petals carefully before bringing your cupped hand to your nose and inhaling.

Curiosity struck you at the subtle and sweet scent. Out of all the flowers, why would he pick jasmine?

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt leonardo #bayverse leonardo #TMNT foot leonardo #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse leonardo x reader #tw: dub con #tw: dark themes #dub con #dark themes

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ghostofthedarkhold · 7 months

Text

symbiotic daydream

pairing: venom!kate bishop x fem!reader

she/her pronouns are used, and mentions of the reader wearing a dress.

word count: 3.4k (3428)

warnings: dark kate, venom forcing kate to think dark thoughts, obsession, stalking, kinda dub-con kissing but not really, no actual smut, groping, suggestive content/language.

a/n: I was going to include smut but this fic really got away from me so if yous like it then I’ll probably do a pt.2 at some point with smut :)

so yeah, surprise, i am doing kinktober this year. however i done absolutely horrible at completing my masterlist last year so this time around im just going to post monster fucking fics as i please with no official masterlist. enjoy!

Symbiotes in the modern world are few and far between, but it’s no secret that some people have the parasitic creatures leeching on their brain, a passenger in their mind. Most people avoid the people that are bonded to the inky creatures that cause cities to run red with blood and pleasure, others hunt them out after an initial encounter with them, obsessed with the ecstasy they had only been given a crumb of. Rumours of the symbiotes' destruction are nothing new to Kate, something her mother had warned her of for her whole life, their wants corrupting the minds of those they inhibit, but she’d never come across one herself, and while part of her was always curious to see them other than on the news, she was mostly thankful for it. That was, until one latched onto her.

Venom made himself known almost immediately after latching onto the young college student, plaguing her mind with thoughts of sadism, of having girls under her, begging her for mercy that she would never grant. Pushing those thoughts out of her mind, Venom began trying to persuade her with other things. Pleasure. Overwhelming amounts of pleasure brought upon her victims, making them beg and scream for her. These thoughts were much more difficult for the young archer to shake off. A young, hormonal, and, quite frankly, already insatiable Kate Bishop with never-ending thoughts of sex? She was done for long before she ever accepted, or even realised, it. But she was capable of holding back. Until she saw you.

She first saw you walking out of the movie theatre with some friends. You were tugging down your dress that had ridden up your thighs from sitting in the theatre chair for the past few hours, and Venom was practically screaming at her, trying to force her limbs forward, to stride over to you and pull your dress up your hips instead of allowing you to move it further down. She was able to stop herself, just barely. But without even knowing it, from that moment forward, you had Kate Bishop in your trap.

She was sly, following behind wherever you went without you even knowing it. Stalking behind you in the street, swinging from rooftop to rooftop with the help of Venom’s neverending slick webs of ink, watching you from across the street while you danced and drank in bars, went from store to store on your weekly shopping trip, snuggled in comfortably for the night in the assumed safety of your own bed. You had completely, wholly taken over Kate’s life without ever having met her. Every time she sat down to study she couldn’t do anything but scribble down your name and draw sketches of you from memory in her, admittedly amature and flawed, art style, every time she drew her bow she couldn’t help but picture her arrow sinking into the flesh and piercing the heart of whoever she saw you with last, a crush, a friend, even a stranger you may had just been giving directions to, they were all the same to Kate, undeserving of even being in the same vicinity as you. When she finally cracked and leaned into her new role as your very own, personal stalker and did some idle snooping online, finding out that you were enrolled at the same college as her, everything became much, much worse. Finding out which classes you took, Kate mangled and stretched her schedule out as much as she was able to until she finally managed to land herself a spot in three out of five of your classes, which was honestly more than the brunette had hoped for when she sent out her email, requesting, practically begging for, her new classes.

Kate sat a few rows directly behind you in the partially empty lecture halls, at first content to watch the back of your head and the way you furiously scribbled down notes in attempt to keet up with your various professors ramblings, but eventually that no longer satisfied her need to be near you, she needed to know you. So, with her heart thudding out of chest like that time she tried to ask her crush in middle school to the winter dance, and Venom’s crazed and incessant cheering clattering around in her brain, instead of taking her usual seat, she stopped a few rows ahead than she normally would in Professor Maximoff’s class and slid in the seat beside you, nearly sending your normal seat partner tumbling to the floor. But when your eyes found hers and you gave her that sweet smile she had watched you give others, for months pleading with the universe for it to be directed at her, followed by a shy greeting, Kate no longer worried about the boy she had practically rugby-tackled to the ground. Honestly, the entire world could have imploded at that very second, and as long as you were in a protective bubble and gave her that same smile again, Kate would die happier than she ever had been, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold Venom back any longer.

She let him take the lead in her obsession, looking into every part of your life that the internet had to offer. She found where you grew up, details of your family, your favourite books and movies, anything she could squeeze out. Kate was sure that the universe wanted you to be hers when she got the notification that you had accepted her request to your private instagram, the one away from the prying eyes of your parents. Abandoning any shred of reason or dignity she had left, Kate got about an hour of sleep that night due to her endless scrolling of your instagram and any photos you were tagged in, Venom getting particularly rowdy when she came by a picture of you in a bikini on one of your friends accounts.

Kate’s plan to have you was set in motion the very next day, innocently asking you questions about yourself, ignoring the lecture and Professor Romanoff’s harsh warning glares. She learned a lot more about you than the internet ever could have given her, and you in turn learned some facts about Kate. You talked about your famile lives, Kate telling you that she was an only child who was raised by her mother, about hobbies, music, anything and everything Kate could absorb about you, and she cursed how the time flew by when Professor Romanoff informed the class that the lecture was over. Kate begrudgingly packed up her things, trying to take in as much of you as possible, as if she wouldn’t see you the very next morning. She slowly stood up when she noticed you had finished cramming your things into your backpack, and stood up to leave, but her footsteps came to an abrupt stop when you spat out a hurried invite to go to a bar with you and your friends that night. Kate spun around slowly, sure that she couldn’t have possibly heard you right, and she watched for a moment as you chewed on your lower lip, fighting over if you had made the right decision. But before you could retract the invitation in a hurried apology about how you hardly knew each other, ignoring the fact that you were ceratin you had told Kate every note-worthy thing about yourself in the last hour, Kate agreed. Her hands were shoved into her jacket pockets to prevent her from pumping her first in victory as you quickly scribbled down the address and time on a discarded piece of paper from a random students desk. Kate quickly made a grab for it as soon as your pencil had left the page, looking at it as if it were the Holy Grail, and to Kate, it was. She promised you that she would be there, the brunette already imagining seeing you that night, away from the stuffiness of the lecure halls, before sending you one last longing look and leaving you standing alone by your desk, watching her leave.

What Kate was unaware of was that you had your eye on her for weeks. Not nearly to the degree that Kate wanted you, but the second that you heard Professor Maximoff call out her name, you were looking her up on the schools website on your phone under the desk, intrigued by the new face showing up halfway through the semester. Your eyes nearly buldged out of their sockets when one of the first things you saw, aside from her grinning student ID picture, was Kate with a bow in her hands, looking as it was the most natural thing for the weapon to be there, with muscles straining against her long, fitted sleeves as she drew back her arrow, the headline under it detailing that she had brought another archery trophy home to the college. After that, your deep dive down the rabbit hole that was Kate Bishop was long and thorough, scouring through every mention in the schools website and news article - after ashemedly staring at her arms and hands on every picture for a good five minutes before eventually managing to tear yourself away. After weeks of pining after the star athlete, clinging to her every word when she answered a question or commented on the syllabus, or really anything she said, you could hardly believe your luck when she sat down next to you, your tunnel vision focused on the object of your latest fantasies not allowing you to feel worry for the boy that she elbowed away.

Kate was ecstatic that night as she pushed her way through the door of the bar, nervously tugging on the tie hung loosely around her neck. Venom had been berating her all night over her nerves, Kate rolling her eyes like a petulant child every time. He was right, of course. The deck was completely stacked in Kate’s favour, knowing every detail about you to make you putty in her hands, Still, she couldn’t help the anxiety nagging away at the back of her mind, as if she was about to go on a first date, worrying about impressions and the way she was dressed.

Kate could swear that all of the oxygen was sucked out of the room the second she saw you. You were dressed to the nine’s, especially for the dingy bar that you so regularly frequented, and there was a small bloom of hope within Kate that you had dressed up just for her. You certainly had never put so much effort in any other night you went out, and as far as Kate could see, she was the only change to your night.

Newfound confidence overtook Kate as she strode over to where you and your friends were clustered at the bar, unable to fight off her smirk as you immediately pulled your arm away from where it was slung around one of your friends shoulders, pulling the taller woman into a tight hug.

“You came!” You cheered, overjoyed at Kate’s arrival before pulling away from her, much to Kate’s disappointment, with a blush staining your cheeks, embarrassed at your sudden outburst of affection towards the girl you had only first talked to that afternoon, and Venom was quick to fill Kate’s thoughts of all the other things she could do to bring that redness to your face in other ways.

“Told you I would,” she smiled down at you instead.

It’s a miracle that Kate heard you ask her if she wanted a drink over the 80’s rock music playing from a corner somewhere, the conversations of different patrons that had all blended into one another, and the depraved thoughts clouding her mind. She stuttered out her usual drink order and you skipped off to find a bartender to make it for her, leaving Kate alone with your friends. She knew who they all were, of course, having fantised about watching the light leave most of their eyes after getting too close to you for Kate’s liking. Some looked at her with curiosity, while others with disdain, and Kate wondered why exactly it was that you invited her there.

“We could kill them all before anyone in here could even blink.”

Internally hissing at Venom to shut up, Kate turned her attention back to you. She spun around, completely ignoring the question one of your friends had finally voiced to her. She watched as you leaned over the bar, giggling at something the server had said to you, completely oblivious to the way the angle allowed Kate’s stare to hungrily devour the inches of cleavage that there exposed, angling herself to see down your dress as far as she could. Venom was screaming at her, screeching that now was the time to make their move. And for once, she listened to him.

You weren’t even aware of Kate’s determined gaze set on you, or the heavy foot falls of her boots against the wooden floor, until her hand wrapped around your bicep in a vice grip, dragging you away from whatever conversation that apparently was so hilarious the bartender was clutching his side. Kate promised Venom that they would see his blood before the night was over.

You made a sound of protest as you looked up to see that it was Kate who was dragging you across the bar, making a beeline for the exit. “Wh- Kate, what are you doing?” You questioned, tugging on your arm to try and free it from her bruising grip.

“I need to talk to you,” Kate all but growled out, dragging you through the door to the bar and into the cold New York night air, your short romper doing nothing to protect you from the bitter frost of the oncoming winter.

It was difficult enough having to watch you drape yourself over your friends from afar, watching through windows or scrolling through social media, sure that at least three of them wanted you, or at the very least wanted to fuck you, but watching it mere feet away from her was harder than Kate had predicted, Venom bringing out her baser instincts until all she wanted to do was press you against the nearest surface and claim you as hers and the symbiote’s marking you in front of everyone, anyone who had ever just layed eyes on you. She needed all of New York to know who you belonged to. But, despite Venom egging her on, even trying to take front seat and force her body into the movements, Kate couldn’t bring herself to do it. So, she settled for the next best thing, dragging you into the alley that was cracked between the bar and the next building.

Your questions didn’t cease until your back collided with the hard stone wall of the alley, Kate’s hard body caging you in, and she wasted no time crashing her mouth to yours.

It took a second for you to react, for your mind to process the sudden changes, but as soon as you did you were pressing yourself against Kate as much as you were able to, your hands coming up to her hair and tangling in her raven locks.

The kiss was a fight for dominance that Kate quickly won, slamming your arched back against the wall again, using your surprised and slightly pained yelp to allow her tongue to invade your mouth. You let her taste you, let her consume all of you, and it was the first time within your presence that Kate let her dams break and venom to slip through. She felt the slickness of his ‘flesh’ run down her arm, coating it, looking as if she had dipped it in a vat of tar. Kate’s hair moulded itself in your hands, although you were too preoccupied to notice, the already black locks flowing freely around her. It was only when you both pulled apart, the need for air separating you, that your eyes met hers and you saw that Kate’s were taken over by white.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Kate whispered to you, drawing circles where her hand had landed on you hip in an attempt to soothe you, feeling that Venom was breaking free and that you could clearly see that, but her voice was warped. The words were all Kate, Venom’s eagerly encouraging her to continue with the previous activities, but the voice that said them was broken and deeper, and it wasn’t the one you had swooned over a mere ten minutes ago.

“Kate, let go of me,” your voice was smaller, the cheerfulness replaced by fear. You had no idea what was wrong with Kate, but you had no intention of sticking around to find out.

“No,” the voice was harsher now, more deformed, as Kate and Venom both fought for the chance to speak, Kate’s biceps straining as she pushed you up against the wall more firmly, holding your hips in an unbreakable clamp. Any softness that was there before was gone in an instant. You watched as Kate allowed Venom to take the reigns and she ground up against you.

Closing in on you, her body caging you in and leaving nowhere for you to run, Kate moved one of her hands from your hip, up your body, until she got to the neckline of your romper, yanking it down and revealing the lace of your bra.

Kate pawed at your breasts over your bra, and even with her pupils and iris’ gone you could feel her eyes drinking you in.

“So fucking pretty,” you didn’t like the relief that coursed through you when it was purely Kate’s voice that reached your ears. Despite your desperation to run out of the alley and never see her again, her own voice much less terrifying that the distorted sound of Kate and Venom melding together

“All those people looking at you. Shit, baby, wanted to watch my arrows crack into their skull,” Kate’s tone was soft and tender, as if the words were meant to comfort and woo you, but they sent a shock of fear down your spine, the thought of Kate killing someone over you paralysing your every muscle, and Kate accentuated her point with roughly pulling your bra down, freeing your breasts, and you winced at the wire of your bra digging into the soft skin of your sides. “So, so pretty,” Kate repeated, her gaze devouring you whole. “And all mine.”

“Ours,” Venom immediately hissed in her ear, his screeching grating against her brain. “You would have never had her like this if it wasn’t for me.”

Kate just rolled her eyes, ignoring the symbiote, which most definitely didn’t rub him the right way, and you were sure the next words, in a different voice than the last two, came from someone other than Kate entirely.

“I could kill the archer and have you to all to myself.”

That voice was quickly crammed far in the back of Kate’s head, and any movement from her stopped entirely, her hands simply resting on your tits, her entire weight focused on smushing you against the wall behind you as a look of anger twisted its way onto Kate’s face. She was having a war inside her head that you were not privy to.

Minutes passed, and you began to wonder if Kate was going to keep you like this all night, pressed against the wall of an alleyway, breasts on display for any passerby who took a few steps into the shadows, with Kate towering silently above you.

You finally found it in yourself to try and wriggle out of Kate’s grasp, and this is what seemed to wake her from her stupor, her focus snapping back to you.

“Don’t listen to him, baby,” you fought back a cry of relief when Kate’s voice replaced the monstrous one that seemed to have dragged her into her subconscious. You weren’t exactly sure who he was, but you decided that you would much rather have Kate at the forefront than him. “He won’t take me away from you, not ever. No one’s gonna ever separate us again.”

Kate wasn’t sure when it was that she decided to keep you by her side from now on. As soon as she walked into the bar? When she saw you laughing with the bartender? When she felt your lips against hers for the first time? She really didn’t know, but she had decided, and, unbeknownst to you, a future without Kate by your side no longer existed.

#c: kate bishop #dark fic #dark kate bishop #my writing #mcu #kate bishop x reader #venom #dark venom #c: venom #s: venomkate #vemom x reader #sort of #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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infamous-light · 9 months

Text

Just Believe

Mother Miranda x Gender Neutral Reader

AO3: Just Believe

Summary: Mother Miranda's perceptive gaze didn't miss the doubt that lingered like a shadow within the recesses of your mind during one of her sermons.

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Dub-con kissing

The village center bustled with activity, yet a heaviness weighed on your heart. Doubts had been gnawing at your thoughts recently like a persistent itch that couldn’t be scratched. The rituals, the chants, the unwavering devotion of your fellow villagers – they have always been the cornerstones of your existence.

As you stood inside the church, watching the villagers pile in, a nagging question formed in your mind:

Was this truly the path you wanted to follow?

Amid your contemplation, a graceful presence swept into the church, interrupting your thoughts. The soft rustling of fabric announced Mother Miranda’s approach, her tall figure casting a shadow that seemed to stretch across the nave and the pews.

Mother Miranda stood before the grand pulpit in her black robes, the fabric draped around her form, almost as if it had been molded to fit her. A stole of intricately woven silver patterns fell over her shoulders, catching the light in a way that seemed to make it shimmer like liquid moonlight. A large halo rested behind her head, adorned with intricate patterns and a single eye sat atop it, gazing down like an all-knowing sentinel. But it was the golden mask that caught your eye. It resembled a bird's face, its features delicately sculpted with precision and care, a creation that transformed her visage into a work of art. Her presence commanded attention, an embodiment of both authority and charisma.

Everything went silent.

The service began as Mother Miranda preached about the Black God. With a voice that resonated like a mellifluous melody, the words she spoke flowed like a river of wisdom and devotion. She spoke of unity, of purpose, of the divine path that guided their lives.

Her words carried a weight that struck deep within each heart present, invoking a sense of connection to something greater than themselves. The villagers hung on her every word; their faith cemented by Mother Miranda’s conviction.

Though her words were convincing, a flicker of uncertainty remained. As Mother Miranda’s sermon wove its narrative, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story, more to the Black God than what met the eye. Your doubts continued to linger like a whisper of truth to be heard amidst the fervor of devotion.

While Mother Miranda’s discourse pressed on, your gaze wandered over the faces of the villagers seated around you, finally coming to rest upon her masked visage once more. At that moment, her eyes met yours. It was as if an invisible thread drew your eyes to her and in that instant, the world around you blurred, leaving only her figure in sharp focus. Your heartbeat quickened and then stilled as if time itself had momentarily ceased to flow.

There was an intensity in her gaze, an unwavering focus that sent a shiver down your spine. Those ice-blue eyes of hers locked onto your conflicted expression and it was as if she could see straight through the façade you had constructed.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the moment passed. The world came rushing back, the ambient sounds regained their volume and you found yourself once again amidst the congregation.

As Mother Miranda’s sermon reached its crescendo, you couldn’t shake the feeling that her gaze had been more than just a passing glance. You were left to grapple with the realization that Mother Miranda’s attention had fixated on you, specifically. It was as though her gaze had pierced through the sea of villagers and found you, unveiling a secret you hadn't shared with anyone.

A look that seemed to say she knew.

The villagers around you began to stir, their movements synchronized as they prepared to depart the church, their faces carrying expressions of renewed faith. Just as the last of the villagers started to file out the arched entrance, your peripheral vision caught a glimpse of movement. It was her – Mother Miranda.

“You there. Stay.”

Her words echoed throughout the church, carrying an air of authority that seemed to command even the very air to halt.

Her robes billowed with a quiet elegance as she moved forward, each step deliberate and measured. The sense of isolation was palpable as she approached, the space around you narrowed to encompass only her and you.

She stopped a few paces away, her eyes fixed on yours.

“Mother Miranda,” you croaked out. Your voice betrayed the nervousness that had settled into your bones. Your throat was parched, her name emerging as if pulled from the depths of a desert. “How may I help you?”

A slow, knowing smile appeared on the lips of Mother Miranda as you uttered your question. The curve of her mouth held both a hint of amusement and a glint of something darker. Her eyes, like twin abysses, seemed to pierce through the layers of your uncertainty, exposing the vulnerable core that doubt had etched within you.

"How may you help me?" she echoed, her voice a melodic blend of honeyed persuasion and underlying malice. "My dear child, there is nothing you can do to help me.” She continued, her eyes never leaving yours. “I sensed something in your gaze during the sermon. A flicker of uncertainty perhaps?”

Her words hung in the air; a challenge masked in the form of a question. The weight of your doubts and uncertainties pressed down on you but the fear of Mother Miranda’s potential wrath loomed even larger. The thought of admitting your faltering belief to her seemed like stepping onto a precipice, one that could lead to consequences you could not predict.

“Of course not, Mother Miranda,” your voice emerged, carefully measured, an attempt to steady the unease that churned within you. “The sermon was powerful, as always. Your words have a way of reaffirming our devotion.”

Her expression remained inscrutable, a mask that betrayed nothing of the thoughts that roiled beneath.

“Is that so?” she replied, her tone a delicate balance between skepticism and amusement. “You’re quite bold to lie to me.”

She took a step closer. The walls of the church, once familiar and comforting, now seemed to close in around you, backing you into a corner. Your back pressed against the cool, ancient stones, a sensation that mirrored the chill that had crept into your heart.

And then, she was before you, a towering figure that seemed to eclipse even the shadows that clung to the corners of the church. Her presence was both overwhelming and suffocating, like the weight of a thousand watchful eyes upon you. As Mother Miranda looked down upon you, a predator assessing its prey, the true magnitude of her power became palpable.

You were a pawn on her chessboard, an unwitting player in a game that transcended mortal understanding.

“I apologize, Mother Miranda,” you managed to stutter out, your voice trembling with the weight of admission. “I was afraid of telling you the truth.”

Her response was immediate. The tip of a gold-clawed index finger rested on your lips, a gesture that was both intimate and intrusive. “Be quiet.” Her command was like a spell, woven with an authority that demanded unquestioning obedience.

Your voice had been stilled; your agency was stripped away by her insidious influence.

“Doubt is a natural progression on the path of devotion. It is through questioning that one finds deeper understanding.” Mother Miranda intoned. The candlelight danced upon her features, casting fleeting shadows that seemed to morph her visage into something both ethereal and foreboding. “You see, doubt can be a catalyst for growth, an opportunity to forge an even stronger connection to the Black God. It is in these moments of uncertainty that true loyalty is tested, and true devotion solidified.”

A subtle pause lingered in the air, pregnant with unspoken implications. Her gaze held you captive, the weight of her words settling like a shroud upon your shoulders. “I have been watching you, my child, seen the doubts that have taken root within your heart. But fear not, for I am here to guide you. To help you navigate the labyrinth of your belief and emerge stronger, more resolute.”

Her words, like tendrils of a seductive incantation, seemed to wrap around you, weaving a narrative that blended the allure of answers with the undertones of obedience. “In time, you shall come to understand that your doubts are part of a greater plan, a plan that will lead you closer to me. Closer to the truth that the Black God offers.”

She extended a slender hand, the fingers adorned with intricate golden ridges that gleamed in the flickering light. “Walk with me, my dear, and I will show you.”

As her fingers brushed against the side of your cheek, a shiver coursed throughout your body. The temptation of her words mingled with the chilling realization of her intent — to draw you into her orbit, to keep you within her watchful gaze. And at that moment, you were faced with a choice, one that could either lead you deeper into her enigmatic embrace or push you to break free from her manipulative grasp.

But was it much of a choice?

At that moment, you made the only logical decision available in such circumstances — a decision driven by the primal instinct to safeguard your own existence.

“Yes, Mother Miranda. I will walk with you.” You said, your voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and submission.

“Excellent.” She purred, the word rolling from her lips like a velvety whisper. The glow in her eyes intensified, the radiance within them seeming to burn brighter.

As the air crackled with tension, her fingers slipped behind her mask and with a subtle movement, she removed the ornate golden bird mask that concealed her features and set it aside. The mask's removal revealed a visage both mysterious and striking, framed by an intricate cascade of platinum blonde hair. Her lips, soft and inviting, curved into a smirk. In the soft candlelight, her porcelain skin seemed to glow, emphasizing the ethereal beauty that she possessed.

Her eyes, those pools of captivating blue, bore into yours with an intensity that mirrored the weight of your shared moment. Her right hand moved toward the nape of your neck, her fingers curling in a slow, deliberate motion as they intertwined with your hair. With a harsh tug, she guided your head backward, causing the breath in your throat to expel.

“You will be a good little follower for me, won’t you?” Mother Miranda’s voice, soft as a caress, brushed against your lips like a beguiling promise.

Her mouth, now dangerously close, hovered in the space between you.

In that instant, you made a decision that seemed to reverberate through the very air. A step that might lead you to a revelation or a chasm of secrets that you couldn't yet fathom.

“Yes, Mother Miranda.” You breathed out, your voice laced with nervousness.

With a sense of anticipation hanging in the air, Mother Miranda leaned in, her breath mingling with yours. The world seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the two of you suspended in time and space. Her lips brushed against yours, a delicate touch that sent delightful shivers down your spine.

Every sensation was heightened—the warmth of her skin against yours, the sweetness of her lips, the tender exchange of breath. In that intimate embrace, the doubts and uncertainties seemed to melt away, leaving only the raw authenticity of the moment.

Mother Miranda smiled against your lips, a tender curve that held a hint of triumph as if she had achieved a pivotal victory in this unspoken exchange.

#mother miranda #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda re8 #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil fanfic

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celestialspecial · 6 months

Text

In Cold Blood (Pt. 2)

Warnings: Dub con, knife play, blood, smut/p in v-do i even need to say its 18+ (also dont do it with serial killers irl....you know this)

The pounding relentless beat of the club echoed out onto the pavement. The sidewalk under your feet seemed to shake with each new bass drop, lights from the floor to ceiling windows washed along the crowd waiting in line.

You stood single file, all asses and elbows waiting to get to the front velvet ropes. Your nerves were frayed, the last few weeks had been leading you up to this moment.

Once you had a photo of the killer with his mask it was easier than before to find snippets of him on local cctv camera footage. His steps were more traceable but you still didn’t know his motive.

The more you learned the less it made sense.

You'd tracked his wanderings for over a month now, the trail had gone cold but you had it on good authority he'd be here tonight. The Killer, looking for his next victim.

With some intense persuasion your team had allowed you to go under cover and act as bait to draw out the madman. Your skimpy dress and overall look blended you into the background of the crowd waiting in line.

You looked like you deserved to be there. Were meant to be there.

After god knows how long of waiting in line you finally were able to escape the chilly outdoors and feel the intense heat of the ravenous club before you.

Bright lights pooled the dance floor and if you had thought the outside was crowded this was even worse. How anyone managed to dance was beyond you but that wasn't why you were here.

Making your way to the bar in hopes of escaping the intense smells and rhythmic dancing to clear your head. A buzz from your phone got your attention.

One of your colleagues.

"He's there." Your heart beat increased its pace. Eyes darting around the mass of gyrating people but you couldn't see shit. Everyone was moving so erratically, it would be impossible to find him.

After a moments pause you wondered if maybe this was a wash and to call for backup and corner the bastard wherever he was here instead of coercing him to follow you somewhere private where an arrest could be made.

At that your phone buzzed again. What the fuck did they want?

Only this time it was a call. From an unknown number. He was here.

"Hello?"

"Detective. You look mouthwatering tonight." You gulped in response suddenly realizing this might be a bad idea but taking a shot from the bartender strengthened your resolve.

"Do I?"

"Oh yes. Have you come here to arrest me, Detective? Looking like that?"

"Maybe I came here for other things."

A long pause on the other end had you believing he had hung up until you heard a brief inhale on the end of the line.

"Is that so?"

"Will you turn me down?"

This was very dangerous. You were being reckless with your safety but if it drew him out and you had a chance to throw this sucker away for life you'd take it.

"Never."

"Then come get me."

"No... I think you need to find me first. Hasn't that always been your goal? To find me."

You cursed under your breath. Of course he wasn't going to make this easy for you. Why had you been so stupid.

"I don't know if you know this but you picked the most crowded club in the city tonight."

"Don't worry. I'll give you hints. But I can tell you right now you're very cold."

You stepped away from the bar and turned left.

"Warmer."

You considered that when you caught him you'd just kill him and say it had been an accident. And yet a sick and twisted part of you felt a thrill you couldn't explain.

And honestly were afraid to examine further.

Another few twists and turns to the tune of, "Warmer" and "you're getting colder." Lead you to a bustling staircase that took you up to the balcony overlooking the entire club.

Masses of people swarmed around you and at some points it was hard to even hear the phone if he had said anything at all.

You reached a hallway that was suspiciously empty. Lines of velvet padded doors with brass buttons on their exterior beckoned you forward.

“You’re getting warmer, Detective.”

Your hand twitched, trying not to rest on your concealed weapon.

“Warmer.

You'd made it halfway down the hall when you decided this was enough and it was time for backup. Your left heel stuck in place before you were about to turn tail and run.

“You’re burning up.”

A large hand snaked around your waist pulling you away from the door you had been looking at wearily. Then it all went black.

You came to, eyes blearily blinking in the low light. A deep red hue filled the room, curtains of lush fabric draped the ceiling, hanging askew and clinging to matching red sofas.

A black crystal chandelier hung above your head. The pounding of the music from the club could still be heard, the bass vibrating the surface you were on.

Stuck on. No, strapped to.

You wiggled your wrists realizing they were handcuffed to the table beneath your body. Your senses started to come to you faster as your breathing increased with each panicked heartbeat.

Your ankles were tied down as well, a chain clanging against the surface. The sound blunted by the space.

“Help!” You shouted, screaming as loud as you could. “Somebody?! Anybody!”

“They can’t hear you.” That voice. You’d heard it before. So many times before, but this time it wasn’t distorted by a device. No scrambling or altered sound. Deep, even more attractive than you’d thought.

If you didn’t know better you’d say it was almost warm, inviting. Like a lamb to slaughter, that’s how you felt. A wolf in sheep’s clothing and you were falling for it.

It was nearly impossible to lift your head fully to look upon your captor. Out of the shadows in the corner stood a man, tall, lean, leather jacket scuffed and torn and the mask. You recognized that.

He toyed with a large silver knife, pressing the point into the pad of his thumb, mask downturned as he examined the large weapon before you.

Turning back to look at you he traced the knife along the padded velvet walls. Cocking his head towards them as he approached where you lay.

“These walls are solid thick. The padding also helps block out the noise.” You couldn’t see his face but his eyes…they were black and they caught the red light just right and they almost-glimmered.

When he spoke next you could hear the smirk on his lips.

“Perfect place for screaming…of all kinds.” Your eyes closed, brows drawn together, a shaky rasp escaping your lips.

“You’re going to kill me.”

His head tilted to the side, taking you in, probably in more ways than you realized. Moving closer to you, the glimmering buck knife scraping against the wood of the table. You could feel your pulse racing in your neck, knees wobbling.

Once he’d approached your side, cracked white mask looking over you he lifted the glinting blade. You watched with wide eyes as the edge came down as he drew lines over your exposed flesh.

“Now why would I do that?” Cool metal bit into the side of your thigh, not enough to draw blood but enough to have you gasp at the pressure. His bottomless eyes darted to your face at the sound.

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling. Captivated by you writhing on the table before him. Setting the knife down to rest on the center of your torso the man before you removed one of his gloves.

Flesh met flesh as he placed his large hand on your inner thigh, the rough pads of his fingers pressing into your heated skin. His skin felt warm against your leg, you’d waited for it to feel cold, clammy but it was neither of those things.

“I’ve watched you for so long, Detective. Been wanting to feel how soft your skin is for far too long.”

You wanted to fight it but you couldn’t help your poor body giving in to his caresses. Each stroke against your knee, shin, then moving back up to rest so close to your center.

You tasted blood from how hard you’d bit your lower lip. Dying to not moan, to not let him know you were enjoying this. But he knew. Dammit he knew.

“You knew I’d take the bait. And I did. Because you KNOW me. And I know you.”

“You don’t know me.” You spit out, you tugged against your constraints to drive home your point.

“I know you’re enjoying this.”

“And how do you figure that?”

“Because I am.” Fuck him. That’s all you could think. All you wanted but didn’t dare admit. He was a psycho…and maybe you were too for wanting him this badly.

He retrieved his knife, this time letting it settle between your thighs, the tip catching on the string of your underwear. You could feel the blade against your skin and you did your best to breathe in shallow gulps.

His wrist flicked and what little pathetic swatch of fabric you’d had on under your dress was done for. An elastic snapping noise, a sting as it smacked against your skin and then he moved back a foot.

Pulling with him the knife and your underwear torn and tattered stuck to the tip of the blade. He held up the weapon and its new bundle of fabric to examine it, fingering the underwear with his free hand.

“Detective. These appear to be wet.”

If you’d had your gun you would’ve shot him. Or you’d like to think you would in this moment. Anything to get out of this situation. Scorching heat seared across your face, you could feel it beading up on the back of your neck as well.

He leaned forward, bracing his hands against the table, fingers brushing against your sides in the process.

“Care to explain?” His head gestured to the sad excuse for underwear left.

“Fuck you!”

“Soon, but not yet.” His gloveless hand resumed its place on your inner thigh but this time his fingers dared higher. You could feel him part you and drag a long finger up your center, dipping in before pulling his hand back to inspect.

You wanted to cross your legs, anything to prevent you from wanting more. The noises that had scratched at the back of your throat as you felt him briefly inside you, were scrambling to escape.

His fingers were coated in your wetness, masked face exploring your own, gauging your reaction. Then he slipped those same fingers under his mask, a sucking noise could be heard and his eyes rolled back.

“You taste just as I imagined.” Your eyes met his, instead of looking away you kept your focus. Challenging him. He wanted to play games, so could you.

Maybe he was right, maybe you two did have some connection because as your eyes remained locked with his you could feel the static energy in the room shift around you.

“What else have you imagined?”

The hand of his that held the knife lifted again, the lip of the blade coaxing under the hem of your dress. The tip poking through the satin fabric, slicing as it moved upwards.

Cool air rushed over your heated skin, the fabric falling away. You carefully watched the knife as it made its way across your stomach, towards your chest and finally reaching your neckline.

The stitches popping as the dress shredded away, two useless swath's of fabric toppling to the floor. Exposing your remaining lingerie that you had carefully selected for the night, something that would fit nicely under your dress.

He let out a low whistle from under his mask. Taking the knife and quirking it underneath a loose bow on your black lace bustier. Untying the ribbon as he twisted the knife expertly.

“Detective. Is this all for me?”

“Untie me and find out.” At that he chuckled, plucking another seam with the blades tip.

“You’re very clever, but not that clever.”

He tapped your cheek with the flat side of his knife, wiggling his finger in a childlike admonishment as he moved to the end of the table. Standing between your legs that were still strapped down.

You watched as he slipped the knife into his back pocket, removing his other glove somewhere in the process.

The way he watched you as he moved. Those depthless eyes examining every inch of your body. How they shone a little brighter as his gaze landed on your exposed lower half.

He lowered himself onto his elbows but not before clutching your hips and tugging you further down the table towards him. You grunted at the tightness overwhelming your bound wrists, scraping against the metal handcuffs.

Then you felt his mouth against you. Crying out at the feel of his lips sucking against you. Lapping up your juices and teasing the sensitive flesh there.

Your eyes squeezed shut, panting, then moaning. His evil mouth coaxing every new noise from your body. Trying to look down and see him but the mask sat on top of his head still blocking your view.

That tightness and aching sensation started to gather in your center, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. Your moans grew louder, sparks flared behind your eyes and then with an extra savory sucking sensation you were tumbling over the edge.

You screamed, pulling against your handcuffs, hips lifting off the table to meet his mouth more readily and from the way the floor and walls pulsed and pounded around you, you knew he was right.

No one could hear you.

The ecstasy washed through you, draining your remaining fight down to nothing. You didn’t even notice that he had stood up and knelt by where your head rested.

“Next time scream my name.”

“That’s a little hard since I don’t know it.” You managed through gasps of air.

You could feel him moving beside you before you turned to come face to face with that taunting white mask. You instead focused on his eyes beneath the plastic exterior.

Every nerve ending came alive as you watched his large hands coming up and unclasping the fasten behind his mask. The cold façade fell away and you felt pin pricks of both dread and wonder overtake you.

The masked killer-unmasked.

And remarkably, if not tragically, handsome beyond your comprehension.

Those same dark eyes that gobbled up any light in the room, curtained by long strands of dark hair. Mussed from the mask, and his previous explorations of your body.

A small mole rested under one eye, well shaped nose and perfectly carved smile adorned by pink lips. His jaw was severe but softened by the rest of his features when he smiled.

It set your whole being on edge. Looking at him, the man you'd been talking to for months. Who'd been taunting you at every turn.

Who'd killed people.

"Do you prefer the mask, Detective?"

You swallowed thickly at the insinuated repercussions of having seen his face. Knowing you could pick him out of a lineup easily. You'd never be able to forget that face.

Terminally Handsome.

He smirked at you, as if reading your thoughts. Grip tightening on the knife and drawing it in lazy circles and arcs over your skin once more.

Pressing deeply just under your ribcage, a rivulet of blood being drawn to the surface as you sucked in a ragged gasp.

The pain mixed with excitement as you felt yourself dampen again just watching him.

"Let's remove this, shall we?" He nodded to your bustier that was beginning to feel very tight and hot against your body.

You felt the blade slip under the center point where it laced up corset style and watched as each ribbon gave way to the sharpened metal slicing its way upwards.

You felt like your chest could finally expand and take in oxygen once he reached forward tearing the offending fabric away from you. It even took your hazy brain to register that now you lay completely exposed to the monster before you.

Monster...or man. You couldn't decide at the moment.

The blade tip circled one nipple then the other, your body betrayed you in every sense of the word as you groaned at the cool sensation. The tight bud responding eagerly to his ministrations.

There was no mask hiding his expressions now. Amusement and darkening shadows of lust.

"I can tell you're enjoying this as much as me." He leaned in close and whispered, licking the shell of your ear. Then placing a heated kiss to your neck before working his way downard.

Taking your nipple into his hot mouth and sucking enough for your eyes to roll back and hips rise up in need. He then turned his attention to the other breast. Tongue stroking you as you felt the knife pressed to the other side keeping you in place.

"Please." You wanted to cringe away from how helpless you felt as the word escaped your lips. Not helpless asking to be let go, but helpless-begging for more.

At that the gorgeous man above you's eyes rose to catch your powerless gaze. You knew this entire time, for months, you'd never been the one in charge. It had always been him. And you fell for it- hook, line and sinker.

"Billy."

"How do I know that's not a fake name?" You ventured, crying out when his mouth tortured you again.

"Does it matter?" No. Nothing mattered at this moment. Your world had shrunk and it was just you and him. You and Billy.

"No. It doesn't." He seemed to like that. Continuing his assault on your body until you couldn't tell where your body ended and his began.

Dizzy from pleasure and wanting, no, needing more. You could feel his arousal pressed into your thigh as he hovered over you kissing and marking up your shoulder.

"Billy I-"

"Shhhhh." The cool press of the blade against your lips. "I know."

And damn him, he did. You couldn't control how your body reacted as you watched him slowly unbuckle his belt, black pants dropping to the floor around his ankles.

His pupils blown wide, moving towards you, no longer a man. A killer stalking his prey. He moved in near silence until he was hovering over you.

His lips were on yours again, demanding, controlling, guiding every movement and you followed him like a lost puppy. Biting his bottom lip before he could pull away, drawing a drop of blood to fall between you two.

He pulled back, fingers tentatively touching the small wound. The look he gave you next was feral. No humanity left in it. Only terrible delight and amusement.

You felt him pressing at your entrance, hot and hard. Your knees fell apart further and you heard him chuckle into your chest as he drove home.

It was truly criminal how good it felt, how right it felt. You were turned on and disgusted by yourself all at once, but soon that little voice telling you to hold back was drowned out by each push of his hips against yours.

You wanted to hold onto him, to run your fingers through his hair to claw at his back but all your wrists could do was press against the metal holding you back. Bruises rubbing into your skin.

He struck something deep inside you and you muffled a cry into his shoulder. Building higher and higher, soaring above you body with each movement.

You could feel him getting closer too, a shift of his hips catching just the right angle and your toes curled.

"Scream for me, Detective. Like you've been wanting to all these months."

His pace picked up, Billy groaning and the sounds of your bodies coming together again and again and again.

Your body couldn't take it anymore, fucked into oblivion. Your body clenched then released, fireworks filling your vision and spikes of pleasure drove through ever cell of your body.

"Billy!" You screamed as loud as you could, the clanging of your wrists and feet fighting their confines as your back arched into him.

At the sound of you coming again he drove in deeper than he had before and followed you over the precipice. Groaning loud as his fingers dug into your hips.

He whispered your name into your ear as he came, punctuating it with a final crush of hip hips against yours. The sound of your full name on his lips made your head hazy.

You felt a sharp prick on your side and the room around you began to swim. You could feel his fingers caressing the side of your face.

"This has been very nice Detective. I look forward to doing it again sometime." He placed a passionate kiss to your lips before giving you a soft almost tender kiss to your forehead. "Sweet Dreams." Then the room went dark.

You didn't know how long it'd been but you blinked eyes squinting at the bright light overhead. You were in a hospital, sounds of people milling about made you turn your head to the side.

"Detective!" On of your colleagues exclaimed, jumping up from her seat. " You're awake!"

"What happened?"

"We found you in the club...Tied to a table. But wearing different clothing than you'd been wearing before going inside." she gulped. "We saw the torn fragments of dress though."

So he'd been a gentleman and dressed you before leaving.

"Have you found him?" Her eyes fell to her clasped hands before shaking her head.

"No not yet but we will." Her phone beeped and she gave a baleful smile before pausing to walk out and take the call.

When you turned over onto your other side on the side table you noticed a large bouquet of flowers. A note placed in the center with a heart drawn on it.

You scrambled to open the card.

"Thank you for the amazing night, Detective. Until next time."

#billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo fanfic #the punisher fanfiction #ben barnes character #the punisher au #frank castle #billy russo x y/n #serialkiller!billyrusso #detective!reader #billy russo the punisher #billy russo edit #billy russo halloween #halloween fanfic

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squirmhoney · 1 year

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Dependency Issues - Part Seven

A/N: so I did use the surname Velaryon in this but to me I would still have Laenor as the person as the primary dad figure even if he isn’t their biological dad. So still up to you decide with that one. Warnings: Dark. Non Con. Dub Con. Somnophilia. Incest. Manipulation. Coercive behaviour (at times) Full on smut. Dependency Issues. (like reader has some serious issues when it comes to Aegon) Unhealthy relationship. Mean and aggressive Aegon. Angst ( A lot in this chapter). 18+ Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Niece!Reader (Rhaeneyra mother and non specified father) Word Count: 4K

Master list Part Six Part Eight

Thing hadn't gotten any better.

Eventually you realised it wasn't just Aegon and your feelings for him, there was something wrong with you. And a trip to a doctors put everything into perspective.

"I've just sent the tests off," Dr. Heyward came back into the room, taking a seat opposite you. "And I did have some more questions to ask while the nurse finalises everything, is that okay?"

You gave her a small smile and nodded. "Of course."

"When was your last period?" She asked.

"Ummm," you started, taken a back by the question. You tried to rack your brain but all you did was stumble on your words. "I don't remember honestly."

"Right," she gave you a reassuring smile, her voice calm and gentle as she continued. "And you were experiencing mood swings."

"Yes." You were nodding again, fingers fiddling with each other in your lap.

"Have you been having any unprotected sex lately?"

A tear slipped down your face, realisation hitting you finally. You let out a deep sigh, "Yes, I have."

There was a moment where you felt trapped in your head, unable to communicate how you were feeling. You didn't even hear the nurse come in or what she said to the doctor, too lost in the thoughts swarming around your head.

"Miss Velaryon?" The doctor asked, grabbing your attention.

"Yeah."

You looked up only to see the knowing look in her eye.

"The tests have come back and you're pregnant," she told you, moving her chair to sit closer to you. Her hand rested on top of yours, bringing you out of your thoughts. "You're still young and I know this can be scary for some. But there are options available."

"Right."

"But from the symptoms you're showing, I think you might be in or hitting your second trimester already..."

You felt yourself flushed, not taking anything in as she bombarded you with information. By the time you had gotten out of there you had a handbag full of leaflets that you ended dumping out into the first bin you saw.

You were in complete denial, trying to push this to the back of your mind. But it was real and it was happening, meaning you needed to do something about it.

You just didn’t know what yet.

"How was it?" Your mother asked as soon as you got through the front door.

"Turns out I have a stomach infection," you told her, sounding relieved. "I got prescribed some anti biotics and I've just been told to rest for the rest of the week."

"That's good to hear," she gave you a small smile, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "How about you go up to bed and I'll make you something to eat?"

"That would be great," you said, biting down to keep your emotions at bay. "Thanks, mum."

You could barely look at her when you walked up the stairs, biting on your lip so hard you drew blood.

Once you reached your room, you collapsed onto your bed. You didn't even know how you had the energy to cry still, that's all you had been doing over the last few weeks. But now everything was starting to make sense, like the pieces had finally been pushed back together again.

Your mood swings constantly being whack, the sickness you had been feeling all the time and the fact some of your tighter clothes weren't fitting anymore. You were sure if you looked in the mirror you'd notice your stomach had formed into a small bump, you could feel it under your hands as you laid down on your back. But you just didn't think you could face that fact at the moment.

All you could think was how could you have been so wreckless, so thoughtless in all this. With everything that went on between you and Aegon neither of you even took a moment to think about the risks of what you were doing. How it could all lead to this.

You wanted to blame Aegon, how you were so lost in your emotions with him you hadn’t even thought about the risks. You hadn’t even taken a second to contemplate them. But you had a piece to play in this and it wouldn’t be fair for you take it all out on him.

You didn't know what to do. All you did know was you wanted it to be you that decided what happened.

If you told your mother, you knew how she would feel. A lot would have to come out that you weren't ready for. Also with the way she had been acting recently you couldn't promise yourself that she wouldn't force you to terminate your pregnancy.

You didn't want to think that but with her so bound to keep you away from Aegon, you knew there might be lines she was willing to cross.

And at the end of the day you didn't know what you wanted. You love kids, you always have but did you want one at nineteen?

Before you knew your hand reached for your phone, searching through your contacts. As the phone rang, you tried to steady your breathing, hoping that the other person would pick up.

"Hello," a soft voice spoke through the phone.

"Hi, it's me," you rambled, voice strained as you spoke. "You probably don't know why I'm calling. It's just I didn't know who else to call."

"Actually I think I do know why you're calling," the voice replied.

"You do?" You pushed your lips together, trying to force the tears away.

"Yes and it's okay. Of course I’ll help you."

You felt terrible as you stepped out of your house in the late hours, taking a suitcase packed with as much stuff as you could. Luckily everyone was asleep by the time you left the doors, making it easier for you to sneak out unnoticed.

A car was parked around the corner, the engine still running meaning you knew it was for you.

But when the door opened, you didn't expect Aemond to walk out ready to help you with your suitcase.

"Where's your mum?" You instantly asked, face dropping at the sight of him.

Aemond put his hands up in defence, offering you a small smile. "All she told me was to come and get you and to say nothing about it to anyone."

"You know that means you can't tell Jace or Luke," you told him, handing him your suitcase.

"I won't tell them," Aemond stated, placing your stuff in the boot of the car. "Don't worry."

"Thanks," you replied, feeling slightly more at ease.

The drive was filled with music, radio noise to fill the awkward air. You could tell Aemond was dying to ask a question but you really weren't in the mood to tell him. There was someone you needed to build the courage to tell first before you could tell anyone else.

"Does Aegon know you're staying with us?" Aemond asked, eyes peering over to you for a second.

"Why would he?" You retorted back, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Well if not for the fact that you and Aegon have been the closest people in the family since I can remember," he said, making you feel slightly stupid. "Then maybe because of what's been going on between you two."

"Right," you whispered, not wanting to think about that right now.

Did everyone seriously see what was going on?

"I'm guessing Jace told you." You couldn't look at him, only staring out the window as you spoke.

"No," Aemond was shaking his head, a smirk dancing on his lips. "I think anyone can see it in the way Aegon looks at you. Completely obsessed with you."

"It's not like that."

"You don't have to lie to me," Aemond chuckled, finally parking up in the drive way. "But I do think it's different for you and Aegon. While you seem sweet and kind to him, he seems like someone that would pressure you into things. His obsession is twisted, he's always been a sick man."

"You shouldn't talk about your brother like that," you were quick to say, hopping out of the car on first chance. You went to the boot, being followed by Aemond.

"Eager to defend him as always," Aemond tutted, stepping round the car. He passed you your suitcase, hand lingering a little too long for what felt comfortable for you. "He's not in the house at the moment so you don't have to worry about that."

"Spare room made up for me, right?" You asked, stepping away from the house.

"Yeah," Aemond nodded, following you to the door. "Mum is asleep but I'm sure she'll come see you in the morning."

"Of course."

You were quick to drag your suitcase up the stairs, being as quiet as you could as you made it to the spare room.

The sheets were all made up and there was a pack of your favourite cookies on the bed side table. You smiled at that before finally changing into some pyjamas.

Underneath the sheets, you didn't find as much comfort as you hoped. You wriggled around for what felt too long and you couldn't help but rub your hand across your stomach. Every time you felt the bump, your stomach stirred with unease but a bit of something else too. Something you couldn't quite pin point.

It wasn't long before you found yourself sneaking into Aegon's room, knowing the route like the back of your hand. You were glad he was out, grabbing a t-shirt of his without a thought. And by the time you crept back into your room, his top in your hand, you heard the front door opening again.

You could hear his heavy foot steps, your breath catching in your throat as you heard him stumble up the stairs. You knew it wasn't a good idea to let him see you, knowing that he was probably wasted out of his mind.

But you wanted to see him so bad.

Your phone rang and you weren't surprised to see Aegon's face light up the screen. What you were surprised about was how quickly you answered it.

"Hello," you whispered, not wanting him to hear you from the other room.

"Y/N," Aegon let out between a chocked cry, not expecting for you to answer either.

"Hey," it's all you could think of to say, knowing what you wanted to say wouldn't be good for him now.

"I need to see you," he sobbed, making your heart twist at the confession. "Like I really need to see you."

"I know-"

"No, you don't get it," he was a mess on the phone, hardly making sense as he spoke.

"How about I see you tomorrow?" You asked, trying to calm him down. "If I promise to see you tomorrow, will that make you feel better."

"But will you really see me tomorrow?"

"If that's what you need."

He let out a harsh breath, contemplating what you were saying.

"Breathe Aegon, I'll be there," you promised, tears brimming you eyes now. "Just breath for me."

And that's all he needed to hear the softness of your angelic voice to lull him to sleep.

The kitchen felt stuffy, not making your morning sickness any better. You didn't know if it was the cooking or the cold stare you felt digging into your back as Aemond walked into the room. But it was making you feel flushed and even Helaena's warm embrace from behind didn't make you feel any better.

You could feel his eyes digging into you as he drank his morning coffee, eyeing you up as if he was trying to study you. Your presence felt not unwelcome but rather like it was unsettling for the house. And you had yet to see Aegon.

"How long will you be staying with us?" Aemond asked, finally breaking his gaze.

"Until she wants to leave," Alicent quickly saved you, stepping into the kitchen. Her hand landed on your back, giving your shoulder a little squeeze.

After your conversation with her this morning, you felt more ease, even supported. You knew this whole situation wouldn't be easy but to feel like you had someone in your corner, ready to support you in any decision you made, made everything ten times better. And you think your over emotional reaction really showed her that last night.

"Good morning."

The voice hit the back of your neck, hairs standing up as heavy footsteps walked into the room. Your head turned, the air catching in your throat when your eyes fell upon Aegon.

"We should talk," you said, jumping of the chair you were on.

You didn't give him a second to think and by the look on his face, so taken back by your presence, he probably wasn't doing much thinking. Your hand grabbed his, pulling him to follow you out of the room.

Of course, Aegon takes the opportunity to link your fingers with his, getting more comfortable than you wanted to allow him. You almost felt bad when you took your hand from his, putting distance between you as you reached the living room.

"How do you feel?" You asked, taking a seat on the couch.

"Better that your here," he said, taking a seat next to you. His hands tried to take yours but you pushed them away.

"Aegon." You put your hands up, taking them away from Aegon.

If anyone could read you, it was Aegon. He could see the strain in your face and the tension in your jaw. The shallow breaths you were taking, you were on edge and he believed it to be his fault.

"I'm sorry," Aegon said, voice cracking. "All I can do is show you that I'm sorry." His face was deflated, eyes becoming watery.

A fuse went off at the sight of him, anger flaring at your stomach at how he easily he could bring the water works on. If anyone should be upset, it should be you.

But for now you'd push your anger aside, ignoring the feelings you had for him.

"It's not that," you told him, shaking your head. You fiddled with your hands in your lap, nail digging into the skin there.

"I hate us not being together, it's eating me inside," he started to ramble, not really listening to what you were trying to say. "And I feel like I get mixed signals with you..."

You thought you could tell him you were pregnant and he still wouldn't hear you, too lost in his own emotions.

"Im pregnant."

The silence that followed the statement was painful. Your voice was barely above a whisper and you really hadn't even expected him to hear you above what he was saying. Your stomach felt tense and you could barely look at him, knowing that it needed to come out sooner rather than later.

But like that?

"I'm at least twelve weeks," you let out in a shaky breath, a hand reaching over your stomach. "And I'm not sure what I want to do yet. But all I know is I want it to be my decision."

Aegon reached for you again but you moved back, finally looking up at him.

"Don't," you snapped, covering your face with your hands. You could feel the tears hitting the back of your throat. "I'm staying here for the time being but that doesn't mean we are okay. It just means-" you took a second to catch your breath "It just means that I can't go back to my house until I'm certain on what I want to do and-"

His arms wrapped around you, pulling your face towards his chest and as much as you knew you should pull away, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. This is what you had wanted for weeks, the comfort of his arms and his soft voice telling you everything would be okay. There just wasn't any piece of you that wanted to push him away, instead you sunk further into his touch.

"I need you to support me on this," you words were choked up, slightly muffled into his chest.

"It's okay baby," he cooed, hand rubbing your back as you clung to him.

You eventually pulled away from him, emotions calming down finally. While your breathing was still shallow, you felt like you could speak and that's all you really needed to do.

"We need to set some boundaries," you whispered not honestly sure how he would take it. "I will be staying in the spare room and we can't- you know what I mean."

His fingers wiped at your cheeks, giving you a small nod as if he was listening to you.

"I also have a scan today and I'd like you to come."

"I'll be there," he was quick to tell you, head leaning into rest against yours.

"This is not happening," you pushed him away, trying to put that distance back there. "Boundaries."

"Boundaries," he repeated, "Got it."

Aegon didn't know boundaries when it came to you.

His arm wrapped around you as he guided you through the maternity ward, hand rubbing your sides. While you wanted to push him away and remind him of your previous conversation, you really didn't want to make a scene. And with Alicent taking a step back, letting Aegon step up, it meant she wasn't there to stop him either.

Honestly you couldn't deny how good it felt, people smiling at you as if you were a couple. You felt some what free, an almost blissful feeling as Aegon held your hand in the patient's room.

"And right there that's the baby," the midwife said, pointing at the monitor. She rolled the probe and you could hear a sudden study thump. "And that's the heartbeat."

A wide smell spread on your face, eyes becoming glassy as you stared. You couldn't take your eyes off the monitor, a little bit of realisation dawning on you that there was a baby growing inside of you.

"It looks to me like you have one healthy baby," the midwife's voice was enthusiastic, filling you with a certain joy that you weren't sure that Aegon shared. "And from what I can see you are thirteen weeks along."

You felt Aegon squeeze your hand and your attention was brought back to him. He gave you a soft smile, reaching down to press a peck to your lips. You kissed back, for a second, allowing yourself to bask in the happy moment instead of shy away from it.

When Aegon leaned back, you both knew you had made your decision and to reassure you, he pressed his lips to the back of your hand.

"It's okay," he muttered into your skin, "We will be okay."

Your mother had came by during your scan and luck finally being on your side, Alicent was able to convince her you weren't there. But that didn't mean you'd be able to hide from her forever. Because as much as you had you had tried to convince her over the phone that you needed space, you knew she'd be still searching the ends of the world to find you. That's the type of mother she was.

You were just glad to be away from it all, finding peace for once.

Sleep was easier to find you that night, after having what felt like a good day, and being wrapped up in Aegon's top underneath your sheets, you found peace.

As much as you wanted to stay in Aegon's arms forever, you had set the boundaries for a reason, knowing you and him had serious issues to work on. Not only that but your relationship still may not even be able to workout, seeing as you were still related. That issue wasn’t ever going to go away. But he was still surprised to find you pushing him away at the end of the night, reminding him of that one word, boundaries.

Boundaries, the word ran through Aegon's head hours into the night.

While he was shocked to see you push him away before bed, he had still been anticipating it. And if Aegon knew one thing from that day it was to take precautions when you needed it.

And he had slipped the best precaution of all into your drink an hour earlier, making sure you'd be passed out for the rest of the night. Aegon wasn't stupid, he had checked to see how safe it was for pregnant women, knowing he couldn't risk anything with you in your condition. While Aegon never really wanted children, definitely not at his age, he could see how it had all worked in his favour. And with the way he planned to fuck you in the future, he was sure you'd be having a house filled with children before you both hit thirty.

He also couldn't deny the way his cock twitched at the thought of you swelling with his child. He just knew it was going to be impossible to hide his desires for you over the next few months and if he couldn't convince you to let him fuck you, he'd figure other ways to take what he wanted- what he needed from you. He'd convince you eventually, he knew that.

But for now he was happy to creep into your room in the middle of the night, taking what he believed was rightfully his.

Your chest rose slowly up and down with your even breaths, drawing attention to the way his top clung to your growing breasts. He knew there'd be a time where they wouldn't fit you and not having the comfort of his clothes would mean you'd be crawling back to him in no time.

The door was locked behind him as he entered and the bed side light turned on so he could admire your beautiful form. You were a sight to be hold as he lifted his top off your body, gaze falling on the slight roundness of your stomach. He couldn't help but grin against your skin as he leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your stomach. A swell of pride filled his stomach, knowing that he was the one that had got you this way.

"My pretty fucking girl," he hummed, kissing a trail up your stomach. He noted the way your nipples pebbled in the cool air, fingers pinching at them gently. If there was one thing about Aegon, was the fact he knew what made you squirm during sex even in your sleep he knew how to make you wet. "All mine."

His hand reached down between your thighs, pushing them apart as his hand found it's way underneath your underwear. There was a pool there, his fingers slipping easily inside of you making him groan.

"How can you tell me you don't want this?" Aegon whispered even though he knew you couldn't hear him. His fingers continued to massage your walls, chuckling as your hips bucked up slightly. "Even needy for me when you're passed out."

Aegon was growing impatient, his cock straining in his pants at the thought of being inside you. It was a primal need for him and he couldn't help himself as he tore the underwear off your body, shoving his own to his knees. He pushed himself in you with one thrust, grinding down on his teeth to bite back the moan at the back of his throat.

His hips rolled up into yours as he rutted into you, trying to keep a slow pace. He wanted to saviour the moment, just enjoying how your walls engulfed him with complete acceptance but as soon as a breathy moan escaped your lips, he lost all control, snapping his hips hard into yours.

"It's like you were made for me." Aegon pressed the most gentlest of kisses to your lips before folding your legs in-between you. He wished you were awake to tell you these things, for you to know how much he adored you but for now this would have to do.

Aegon hadn't expected to have anyone up at this hour but of course one of his younger brothers had to be lurking around, catching him leaving your room.

He had made sure to clean you up once he was done, making sure to learn from his past mistakes of not leaving his mark all over you. Even though he really wanted to. But he didn't need you suspecting him of anything, especially when he really needed to work into your good books. So his younger brother being the one to catch him leaving your room, wasn't a good thing.

Aegon rolled his eyes at Aemond's presence, closing your door softly behind him.

"I thought she set boundaries with you?" Aemond asked, tilting his head to the side. "Or was I just hearing wrong?"

"I think you should keep your nose out of my business," Aegon scoffed, glaring at his brother.

"I think she's too good for you."

"Everyone thinks that," Aegon chuckled humourlessly, "It doesn't change the fact that she's carrying my baby."

Tag list: @leia-isabell @ophelialaufey @okfashionista @sydneyyyya @minami97 @winxschester @blccdofthedragoncn @horcruxion @fullmoonworshipper @elliotgrihaultgf

Bold is people I couldn't tag. If people want to be tagged in this series I'm happy to take 5 more people just reply to this.

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen imagine #Aegon ii fic #aegon x you #aegon targaryen ii x you

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years

Text

Midnight Blades {2}

Aemond Targaryen x princess!reader (Dark!themes) Summary: Aemond makes an entrance with a proposal and you must choose the lesser of two evils. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, violence, blood play, rough sex, blow job, dub con WC: 3230

A/N: forgot to add there’s some spoilers for Episode 10

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven || Part Eight || Part Nine || Part Ten || Part Eleven || Part Twelve || Part Thirteen || Part Fourteen || Part Fifteen || Part Sixteen || Part Seventeen || Part Eighteen || Part Nineteen || Part Twenty ||

The throne room was abuzz with father’s men talking over one another when you arrived, the herald announcing your entrance and silencing the cacophony for a moment. You strolled right up to the Oaken Throne, its roots forever entombed in the stone while the stump was carved by the finest craftsmen who also built the palace that surrounded it.

“What is the cause for so much excitement, your grace?”

“My darling child, thank the stars you are here.” The King rubbed his forehead to ease the pain that often flared when difficult decisions needed to be made. “News arrived from Westeros, Viserys is dead and his council has crowned Aegon as his successor.”

“That snivelling worm!” Your fingers curled around the pommel of the sword hanging from your hip. “And what of Rhaenyra? Surely she will not take the treachery lying down.”

“You know as well as I do, she does not have the support to take her seat on the Iron Throne.” The King drummed his fingers over the arm of his throne and watched you pace before him.

“The skies must be nearly black with ravens in Westeros.” You stopped pacing to look at the tapestry map of the Known World hung across the wall, narrowing your eyes at the embroidered lettering locating King’s Landing. “Every man and his dog will be out trying to gather support for one side or another.”

The doors to the throne room were thrown open and the heralder looked pale as he announced the new arrival. “Prince Aemond, requesting to seek an audience with the King of Scythe.”

“Speaking of dog,” you muttered at the same time as Aemond stepped into the doorway, pushing past the heralder as he spoke, “Request suggests I will take no for an answer.”

The faded pink scar on your chest burned as he scanned the cavernous room and you noticed his step falter at your sight only because you knew how graceful his feet could carry him. More than once, your hands had found themselves between your legs on the nights spent alone, his name on your lips as you chased down a release that couldn’t come close to matching what he had given you.

“You dare to waltz in here and demand an audience with the King.” It didn’t matter that the king’s guards were stationed between Aemond and your father, you drew Black Heart from her scabbard and crossed the room. “I should have your tongue for the insult.”

The curve of his lips left a perpetual smirk on his smug face but the press of your sword to his chest had it widening by the second. “That would be an enormous waste, princess. I think you would rather like what my tongue can do.”

His words were only for you to hear and you felt them all the way down to your toes that curled in your boots before Ser Negan reached your side and placed a calm hand on your sword arm. “The prince is here as messenger, not warrior. Isn’t that right, Kinslayer?”

Kinslayer. That was a new title or you would have heard of it already, but which of his blood relatives had he killed, you wondered.

Reluctantly, you sheathed Black Heart and took a breath as you regained your composer that had been misinterpreted as anger and not what it truly was, desire. As your sword slid home, you swore it would not be the next addition to the Iron Throne, nor would your fathers.

Aemond finally looked away from you as you turned your back on him, trusting Ser Negan to protect it as you walked back to your father’s side. No one moved until you reached the last step and were securely placed behind three rows of kings guards.

“I come with a proposal,” Aemond spoke to the King, his voice calm and confident despite standing in the heart of his enemy's territory. “To unite our people and end the conflict that has kept us divided.”

The King chuckled and your own laugh echoed his as the rest of the room held its collective breath. “Your family has already usurped one throne. Is your plan to use this union to steal mine too? Or, perhaps you just want my soldiers to die in the war you have waged with your sister?”

Aemond ran his forefinger over his bottom lip and you remembered the feel of them as moved inside you, your corseted dress suddenly too tight to breathe in. He seemed to notice the tell of your dark thoughts and stared at the skirting as if he could see the throb pulsing between your thighs.

“I won’t lie, if the opportunity were presented I might take it for myself,” Aemond said to you before flicking his eye to the King. “But if my dear wife-to-be begged on her knees, I may be inclined to listen to her requests and let her homeland remain untouched.”

You cocked an eyebrow at his bluntness and for confirming that the union would be one of marriage and not trade, not that it made you any more comfortable. There was already an heir to the Oaken Throne but your half brother was travelling the dangerous northern provinces, if something were to happen to him you would be the next in line to the throne. It would be dangerous to have someone with Targaryen blood married to someone so close to the throne.

Your father rose from his throne and drew Dragon Bane from where the ancient sword had rested against the arm. The sword had been forged by dragon fire and could cut through the thick scales that protected the beasts, one of only two blades that remained intact to this day.

“I do not take kindly to threats,” the King stated as he watched the flames from the large hearth reflect in the metal. “Especially ones towards my sweet daughter.”

“I intend to find out just how sweet she is.” The prince laughed as he knew the truth and took a lazy step closer to the guards ready to cut him down and pulled a scroll from his cloak. You caught sight of the dagger that you were intimately familiar with as his cloak fell back into place and licked your dry lips. “I have already taken the liberty to draw up the contract. You will find the terms quite agreeable.”

Quiet as a mouse, your Lady-in-Waiting skirted around the edge of the room until she was at your side. The slip of a girl took your hand and kissed the top of it as she curtsied, passing a note into your palm before disappearing silently into the crowd.

Two dragons overhead.

One order and the city beyond the stone palace would burn.

The King stepped down from the raised platform the throne sat upon and raised his sword, the guards parting at his gesture. “I will tell you exactly what you can do with that scroll, prince, but I assure you it won’t be enjoyable.”

The threat of violence was shimmering in Aemond’s eye and he was excited to hear the threat that would give him cause to damn the city, you couldn’t allow that to happen. “I accept your proposal.” Your father’s eyes flared with fury as he spun around to see blood dripping from your palm, the promise already made. “You will not make an oathbreaker of me will you, your grace?”

Grief washed over your fathers face and he dropped his sword with defeat, cursing your mother for the drop of witch-blood that passed through the female descendants. The cocky grin from Aemond only served to enrage your father more until he screamed for the room to be emptied.

“Not you,” the King ordered when you stepped past him, he caught your elbow and held you there until the last guard closed the heavy wooden door behind him. “What were you thinking! You wish to live with our enemy?”

“I was thinking I don’t want to see our city and our people burn the second the spoiled brat doesn’t get his way.” You slapped the note into his palm and watched his eyes widen at the words. “I have studied the dragon wars, father, two of the beasts could destroy Scythe. I am sworn to protect my people, even if it means sacrificing myself.”

“The Targaryens will expect the support of our soldiers.” Your father shook his head and cupped your face. “He will demand that you live in King’s Landing with him.”

“They don’t know how many soldiers we have. Half are in the north and they cannot expect us to leave our country undefended so we can argue for the national corps to remain stationed here.” You placed your hands over your father’s and patted them reassuringly. “Once word gets across the Narrow Sea that Scythe has allied with King Aegon, Rhaenyra will assume that means our vast army of legend. Perhaps it will be the deterrent needed to avoid war all together.”

“I will pray to the stars to keep you safe.” His fingers traced the blood promise cut across your palm. “That is all any of us can do now.”

“Where is he?” you demanded the second you stepped out of the throne room and found the foyer empty, save for the king's guards.

“Prince Aemond?” Ser Khoal asked with a confused frown. “He said you would know.”

Forcing a smile on your face, you bid farewell and took the shortcuts the maids used until you reached your room without the eyes of the guards seeing.

“You whoremongering, dragon’s turd.”

Aemond chuckled without casting a glance in your direction as he sat in your chair, watching the flames in the hearth. “Is that any way to speak to your soon-to-be husband, my darling?”

You stepped in close between him and the fire so he was forced to tilt his head back to meet your glare. The temptation to deal with the consequences of being an oathbreaker seemed to look pretty good all of a sudden when he licked his lips and smirked. The urge to wrap your fingers around your sword was strong but you transferred the deadly strike to a more forgiving slap across his pale cheek. “Suck a dick, Aemond.”

The blood from your palm smeared across his cheek that was burning red in the shape of your hand and in a heartbeat you found your feet swept from under you and the stone floor rushing to meet you. The jarring of the crash sent an ache through your bones but the gasp of pain was stolen by the fingers that gripped your throat. You tried to buck him off but he was taller and pinned you beneath his body with the ease of his training.

“You know exactly what my sexual preference is, love,” he taunted in your ear as he eased his grip slightly to let you take a wheezing breath in.

“Do I?” you rasped with short intakes of air and smirked as you felt his cock pressed hard between you. “You did…fuck…my ass…”

With a growl he released you to tear the buttons on his tunic and pull it over his head. Lean muscles glowed in the firelight and you ran your fingers along the scar over his heart before raking your nails down. His back arched and his lips parted, enjoying the pain with a feverish shudder that sent a bolt of lightning straight to your core.

“Did you find such pleasures when you left?” you asked as he pulled a short knife from his boot and cut through the material of your dress from hem to collar.

His eye fluttered shut as you freed his cock and ran your thumb over the swollen, leaking head. “No one would dare bleed a prince of Westeros.”

“Such a shame.” You moaned as his lips sealed over your breast and his tongue swirled and sucked your nipple to a stiff peak before moving to your other. The velvet warmth of his tongue and the soft tease of his long hair falling over your body had your hips rolling to see what else you could feel. “One day I will bathe in your blood and know my realm is free from your poisonous family.”

You cried out as he bit your nipple before releasing it and nudging your legs wider to bury himself in your cunt with a hard thrust your body wasn’t prepared for. The stretch of his thickness burned and the mewls from your lips spurred him to move faster until your back was bruised from the stone beneath it.

“I love it when you talk dirty,” he growled against your lips before taking them roughly like he did your body with a clash of teeth and tongue. You wrapped your legs around his hips and gasped as his cock rode over the deepest parts of you, the pressure of impending release building low in your abdomen until it burst and your legs trembled. “We’ll see how quick you are to threaten my blood when it is your child, a Targaryen, who will be born from this union.”

You tore your legs from his hips about to push him from your body but it was too late, his teeth clenched with a deep moan and his back arched as he spilled his seed deep within you. “Fuck you, Aemond.”

“Insatiable little minx.” He chuckled and took a seat back in your chair, his trousers still hanging down his hip and his glistening cock still standing tall. He caught you staring at the hard length of him and wrapped his fist around it, smooth gliding strokes thanks to the mix of your cum coating him. “Suck a dick, princess.”

You could have tossed a shoe at him for throwing your words back at you but the want to hold his most precious anatomy between your teeth and watch him balance on the knife's edge of desire and fear had you kneeling between his parted knees.

The first long lick drew a moan when you reached the sensitive slit at the top and dipped the tip of your tongue inside but the second one drew a groan. His need to have your lips wrapped around his cock was showing but you were not finished teasing him.

“Careful, prince, you’re looking desperate.”

He bared his teeth and grabbed the back of your head as he bucked his hips. His cock filled your mouth and choked off your air until your nose pressed against his skin. Your throat convulsed at the intrusion and he fell back into the chair giving you a moment to breathe before pulling you back down until you gagged. Spit ran down your chin as you moaned around him and the taste of his cum coated your tongue, tears burning in your eyes. It was a mess, raw and primal.

“Fuck,” Aemond murmured through his clenched teeth when your nails dug into his hips and left crescent moons of blood behind. His hand fell away from your head and he watched lazily as his entire cock disappeared into your mouth and your hand slipped between your legs. Your fingers were slick as they circled your slit and gathered the warm cum leaking out to glide over your clit.

The muscles of his body tensed a moment before he moved, grabbing your arms and dragging you up onto his lap so he could see you pleasuring yourself. “Show me.”

You shamelessly teased yourself from his knees until your arousal was running down your thighs and over his leather trousers, his cock twitching at the sight. Needing to be filled more than your fingers could, you climbed higher and impaled yourself on his shaft.

His hands groped your ass, pinching and squeezing it before laying sharp slaps to the skin that drew delighted gasps from your lips as you rode him. His hair tangled in your hands and you tugged at the strands until his chest was heaving with his shaking breaths.

Your thighs burned from the quick pace you set as you chased your release but the growing warmth in your belly told you it wasn’t far away. The bead of sweat rolling down Aemond’s chest told you he was just as close and you dipped your head to taste the drop. It tasted of the sea he had flown across and the smoke of his dragon’s fire, it tasted wild and free.

Leaning back, you cried out at the sharp angle and rolled your hips to hit the spot again. You ran your hands down his legs until you reached his boot and returned with the short knife in your hand, soft trembles starting to rise up your body.

“Give me your hand.” There was no hesitation as he placed his hand on yours, his palm facing up. “Our wedding custom is far different to what you have in the Seven Kingdoms. We have the bloodletting.”

You dragged the blade across his palm and pressed the cut to yours, lacing your fingers together so the blood of your houses melded to one. You weren’t sure whether it was the pain or the union that unleashed the restraint he had held as you rode him but some animalistic part of him rose to the surface.

He locked your joined hands behind your back and held you in place as he fucked up into you, lifting your legs off the chair as he found the deepest wall within you and tried to break through. Heat flooded your body and you cried out as you came, your pussy clenching around him as your moisture soaked his lap. With a dark curse he collapsed against the chair and you shivered with each pulse of his release filling your cunt.

Sated and overstimulated, you fell against him, resting your head in the hollow of his neck until you could feel your limbs again.

“Ser Negan called you Kinslayer.”

“Yes, well I would hardly call the bastard son of my sister kin.” His lip curled at the thought. “Little Luke took a tumble from his dragon, in pieces. Mother was none too pleased but a war with Rhaenrya was inevitable, despite what she thought of her old friend.”

Your head fell back with a laugh as you sat up and Aemond’s hands gripped your hips enough to bruise as he growled, “Glad you can see the amusement in war.”

“Not at all, I am just glad that you will see your end before it is over.” You twirled the strands of his hair around your fingers as you stared into his pale blue eye. “Not even the gods can protect you from a mother’s vengeance. Rhaenyra will burn all of Westeros for what you did.”

You laughed again as he pushed you from his lap and tucked himself back into his damp trousers before standing. His usual smirk had fallen away as he stood at his full height and looked down at you. “And when my sister comes to take her payment, a son for a son, will you laugh then too?”

“You should have done your research, husband,” you murmured as you stroked the scar down his cheek, a smile teasing at your lips. “My mother’s line has never birthed a son.”

Click here for Part Three.

#aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #prince aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen smut #dark!aemond #dark!reader #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond fanfiction #hotd

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