#like there is something there with him going off the deep end again and getting sent back 2 th null void and it sucks but like. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rafecameroninterlude · 1 day

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hii can you maybe write some rafe angst (i just wanna cry)? idk maybe something about reader finally leaving him after too many chances and he feels like the world is ending or something like that ? btw i love ur work sm <3

warnings: angst, cheating

a/n: tysm for this req i’m so happy you love my works <3

“it says that he’s at topper’s..” you glanced up from your phone, sighing to yourself when jade scoffed. “of course he’s at topper’s! but what do you think is happening over there?” your friend took a seat next to you. closing out rafe’s location, you couldn’t help but feel like you were crazy for checking it in the first place. “rafe said he was setting up shop for a party, okay? he’s just busy that’s all.” you sounded unsure, like you were trying to reassure yourself more than anything.

“oh, he’s busy all right.” shutting your eyes, you whimpered. “he hasn’t answered his phone, jade, i’m out of options okay? i’m just going to wait here for him.” she pulled you up before you could lay in self pity. “no you’re not. what we’re gonna do is go down there and catch his ass in the act, okay? you’ve been way too nice to him.” knowing there wasn’t anything you could do but go along with her, you found yourself in her car five minutes later.

“as your friend, y/n, it hurts me to see you go through this time and time again. this asshole doesn’t deserve you and it enrages me that you can’t understand that.” you listened to her rant the whole way to topper’s, your anxiety growing as you two got closer to your destination. “look, when we get in there just remember that no matter what happens you’re not going through this alone, alright?” you smiled at jade, pulling her in for a hug before you two stepped out of her car and made your way inside.

as usual, the place was filled to the brim with partygoers, everyone seemingly in their own world as you and jade walked through the crowded room. “where to?” jade shouted over the music, dragging you in the direction you pointed out to her. when you two made it to rafe’s usual spot, he was nowhere to be found. “y/n, what are you doing here?” topper looked on edge as he greeted you. “hi, ‘top. do you know where rafe is? i’ve been trying to get ahold of him..” you didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered upstairs.

“uhh.. you know what! he actually just left, yup. maybe you should go home and see-” jade cut him off, “you’re a really bad liar. upstairs, y/n.” you blinked, your feet moving before you could second guess this whole thing. your best friend followed behind you, your heart beating in your chest as you stood outside the only door that was closed. “ah, shit,” you heard rafe’s voice on the other side of the door, your stomach turning when another girl’s laugh echoed in your ears.

with a shaky hand, you twisted the door knob, your heart dropping to your stomach at the sight of rafe pushing a girl’s head down his cock. “rafe?” your voice was small but it made his eyes snap open. “baby? what are you doing here?” he scrambled up from the bed, pushing away the girl that was kneeling between his thighs. “what the hell!” she wiped her mouth, “you said you were single, asshole.” the girl flashed you an apologetic look as she walked past you and out the door.

tears filled your eyes. rafe cheated on you, again. “you told her you were single?” you whispered, the betrayal cutting deep through your chest like a knife. rafe moved closer, attempting to grab your arm. “no, no, it’s not what it looked like baby, i swear!” he fumbled with his belt, cursing to himself as you shook your head. “i can’t keep doing this with you,” you backed away, “i can’t..” rafe pulled you inside the room, locking the door shut.

“y/n, please let me explain,” he was pacing back and forth, holding his head in his hands. “she was giving you head, rafe. how do you ‘explain’ that?” you were eerily calm, staring at nothing but thinking about everything. “she was short on money for some blow, alright? she came onto me, it didn’t mean shit.” he reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “is that supposed to make me feel better?” you sniffled, swatting his hand away.

“to know that every laugh, every smile, every memory that we’ve ever shared together wasn’t, isn’t, enough to keep you from choosing someone else over me, just means nothing to you? do you even know what this is doing to me right now?” something about this felt different to rafe, and that’s what terrified him. “of course it’s enough, it’s more than enough. i don’t know why i keep doing this to you, baby, i’m so fucking sorry.” he rubbed his bottom lip, the blue of his eyes now sparkling with tears under the soft light of the room.

“you have it all, rafe. tanneyhill, your father’s business, ‘kook king’ status.. me. what more could you possibly want? what more do you need? the last few times you did this, i was graceful enough to overlook it because i was scared of what it would mean if i did something about it.” if rafe was terrified earlier, now he was damn near ready to drop to his knees and beg you to forgive him. “but i think i’ve just realized something,” oh. fuck. those words made him sick to his stomach.

“wait! please, baby, let’s just go home, okay? let’s call it a night. i’ll make a hot bath for us and we could watch your favorite movies until we fall asleep, just the way you like it, right?” you were seconds away from full on sobbing at his words, the memories of you two cuddling in bed and exchanging ‘i love you’s’ shattering what was left of your heart. “no.. no, i don’t think i want to do that.” rafe was quick, shaking his head as his mouth fell open slightly.

“y/n. this will never happen again, i fucking promise.” he got on his knees. “please.” you looked down, “i need you. you’re the one i want to share everything with. it’s you that i see when i envision my life five, ten, twenty years from now, babe. you’re it for me, i swear. this was just a mistake.” he was clinging onto the hem of your shirt now. “a mistake? betrayal isn’t a mistake, rafe, you chose this.” you planted your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away.

“i’m staying the night with jade but i’ll be back sometime this week for my stuff.” you looked away from him, not being able to trust yourself if you saw the pained expression on his face right now. he groaned, fingers dragging down his face as he got back up on his feet. “you can’t, y/n. please, you can’t do this.” rafe kept a hand on the door so you couldn’t open it. “i’ll do anything, baby, just tell me what to do and i’ll do it.” he pleaded with you.

“move your hand.” you spoke quietly. there was a long pause. “if i stay, rafe, i’ll never leave.”

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r1nstaaa · 2 days

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Hyunjin x fem!reader

MDNI obv

thank u maya for the req xx

warnings: fingering, smut, hyunjin being possessive, and uhh yeah. i love him sm its crazy lol

“your hands look so pretty, baby. i love the colour.” hyunjin said, eyeing your nails as he sat across you on the dining table. “thank you.” you blushed, curling your fingers to look down at your nails admiringly. “you didn’t have to pay for it though, you know?” hyunjin scoffed. of course he did, you were his girlfriend. if he didn’t spoil you, who would? “but since you did, i tried out something new. you wanna see?”

you went up and took a seat beside him, showing off the ‘H’ painted on the nail of your left thumb. you looked so innocent. he wanted to ruin you. “i didn’t want to make it too obvious, since i didn’t want people asking me questions, but i just thought it’d be nice-“ you didn’t even get a chance to complete your sentence before his lips were on yours. oh, wow. possessive much?

the thought of you making it known to everyone, even subtly, that you were his ignited something in him. you did this to him. he was going feral.

that’s how you ended up in his bedroom, lips crashing messily against each other as you made your way to his bed. your clothes had quite literally been ripped off of you, since he was too eager to play with what was his. “my pretty baby.” he mumbled against your neck as he placed wet kisses on it. he nibbled and bit at your skin, using his tongue again to soothe the slight sting you felt. those pretty little sounds you were making went straight to the bulge growing in his pants.

his hands made their way down your body, his left hand pinching and groping your tits while his other hand made its way down to your sopping cunt. his fingers slid against your folds, feeling how wet you were. “shit, love. s’all for me?” he cooed at you. you nodded feebly, head too clouded to come up with words. he chuckled at your helpless state. “haven’t even touched this pretty little cunt yet. you need me that bad?” he said as he inserted a finger into your aching hole. “mmm jinnie… fuck” you managed to moan out.

his fingers worked wonders on your pussy as he inserted his ring finger along with his middle finger, curling them just right to hit that spongy spot deep inside that made you go weak. his fingers reached places you’ve never been able to, and he knew it too. “cmon baby, use those pretty little fingers of yours and make yourself feel good, yeah? rub your clit f’me.” your right hand made its way down to your cunt from its designated spot on his back, giving him those scratches that he loves showing off. you rubbed at your clit, desperately chasing your high. you were so close, and hyunjin knew it.

“fuck baby. clenching ‘round my fingers like a slut. make a mess on my hands baby, cum for me.” he said as his fingers thrusted in and out of you roughly, the squelching sounds sending you into a haze. you came around his fingers with a loud moan, your breathing calming down slowly. hyunjin licked your juices off of his fingers, using his mouth to clean you up. you mewled, feeling his tongue on your sensitive cunt. “jinnie… too- ah, too sensitive.” he gave your cunt one last kiss as he came back up. “i know baby. i’m giving you five minutes to rest.” he winked at you as he made his way to the bathroom to get you a towel.

god, if you knew this is how getting his initial painted on your nails would end up, you would’ve done it a lot sooner.

#hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x you smut #hyunjin x reader smut #skz #skz hyunjin #skz x reader #skz smut #skz x reader smut #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin imagines

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lavidavacomoverstappen · 1 day

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Hi lovely. Can you please do mafia Charles and he’s very protective over reader who’s younger than him and maybe his enemies hurt her and he goes crazy or smth — F1driverszona

babe asked so she shall receive, I swear I’ve never written a fic this quickly I hope y’all’s like it 🎀

*Perceval*

You know how you look at someone and feel your heart swell with pride and joy? That was how Charles was feeling the exact moment he saw his pretty little girlfriend get her bachelors degree. She looked so gorgeous in the white outfit he had picked with her, so pure and innocent.

Charles genuinely wondered how she hadn’t noticed all the security that constantly followed him. How was he only 27 with an entire estate under his name? It really made Charles ponder. Maybe she noticed but was smart enough to not bring it up.

Regardless, he was the proudest person in the room, eyes beaming with glee as she threw her cap up in the air with joy enriched onto her face. With her only being 20, their relationship was the root of all the gossip in town.

It was strange, really. 7 years wasn’t that bad. He knew her better than anyone, and she knew him the most. He never let such thoughts bother him, especially since he was running one of the most discreet underground mafia. Charles knew the risk of getting her involved in his life. He knew that she would forever be tangled in his dirty business, whether she knew it or not. He hated the way that she drew in people with her charm and charisma.

In Charles' world, more attention meant a higher probability of ending up dead. Just thinking about something happening to her made his blood boil. She’d never be harmed. Little did Charles know that pissing off the Russian Mafia came with its drawbacks. The Russians played fast and dirty. They’d attack where it hurts the most. Due to their undercover agent in her university, they knew exactly who she was. Every little detail from the timings she enters and exits the university to the car that comes to pick and drop her.

The Russians were smart, very smart. They knew the best way to hurt Charles was to hurt his girl. They knew kidnapping would not work as she was heavily guarded at all times. So they came up with a public declaration of war. They were going to attack her at her graduation ceremony, in front of everyone, and most importantly, Charles.

This was their way to send a message. Frankly, ever since y/n and Charles started dating, he was ignoring his priorities with the mafia and appointed most of the tasks to Kyviat, who turned out to be a traitor. Some may say Charles’s lack of attention caused him to lose the most important person in his life. Just as they called out her name, the first shots fired. Almost in an instant, Charles whipped his head so fast you could hear a bone crack. He knew this was planned. He prayed and hoped deep down it wasn’t a message for him. He knew Alonso’s daughter also went here and selfishly hoped it was for him.

All his prayers fell on deaf ears when he saw his precious angel falling, almost in slow motion, with her white dress that he loved oh so much turning ever so red with each passing second. He knew he messed up. He had so much love he still needed to show her. The engagement ring in his pocket felt like hot coal, burning him almost taunting him painfully. He had everything planned out, each moment, each step. He never expected her to be ripped out of his arms. He had destroyed homes and families.

He knew he had unpaid karma. And just when he started becoming a better person, he had to pay his karma in full. They say the day she bled out in his arms was the day hell froze all over again. Each of her deep and labored breaths haunted his soul for the rest of his life. He still had days where he could imagine her next to him. If people thought Charles was cruel before the shooting, they would be very wrong.

Seeing the love of his life lying still on a ventilator enraged a different type of devil in him. He hunted each and everyone involved in the shooting like he was hunting animals. He shot, stabbed, burned, bleached, skinned, and mutilated each and everyone. It was borderline psychotic. By day, a doting boyfriend in the ICU. By night, a cold-blooded killer on the loose.

Each morning when he returned, he would utter the same words over and over again, “ça aurait dû être moi, pas toi, ça aurait dû être moi, ma chérie, pas toi. je suis désolé je suis désolé.”

Charles had lost it. More than ever, his reign of terror only ended when she opened her eyes again. He never touched another gun or affiliated with the mafia ever again.

The both of them found a safe haven in the Swiss Alps, only returning to Monaco when everything was over, Charles becoming the most protective person ever known to have lived. His large hand placed on her ever prominent belly. Monaco saw the aftermath of what happens when you mess with Charles Leclercs wife. That was the only incident that ever involved y/n. Charles made sure of it after all she was his and he protected what was his. His overprotective nature plus his power made sure she was safe.

#charles leclerc x wife reader #f1 scenario #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #mafia!charles leclerc #mafia!f1 #charles leclerc #dad!charles leclerc #fernando alonso x reader #formula one #monaco #monte carlo #ferrari

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monster-disaster · 24 hours

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A hilarious idea I had after thinking about multiple nature documentaries…

How funny it would go between a human woman and a male monster, whose species 99% of the time get eaten by the females after they reproduce.

Scenario #1-

*Monster and human have finished having sex*

Monster: *Immediately jumps off the bed, and runs out the door*

Woman: *Shocked expression* “Was I that bad to be around?”

Scenario #2-

*Monster and human are finishing having sex, human woman kisses monster passionately during climax*

Monster: *Accepts fate that they’re being “eaten” by the woman*

Woman: “Are you ok?”

Monster: “Dine upon my flesh to nourish our future offspring.”

I was inspired after remembering insects like Praying Mantis, and sea creatures like Octopus. Imagine being in a relationship with a monster man who thinks he’s going to die when you have sex with him!

I'm screaming! It's so funny!

Scenario #1-

Imagine the paranoia the poor monster goes through after leaving you so abruptly. He can't help but look over his shoulder every now and again to make sure you don't go after him to hunt him down. He is so scared!

And there is a night when he hangs out with his friends, and they are worried about him, and he admits that he had sex. The others feel so sorry for him and offer him help to get out of the town/city. They are so deep in their escape plan they don't notice their other friend's arrival. "So what's up?" "He had sex. Now we try to help him escape." "Humans don't eat their partners," the friend says, shocked at the thought. "Or if they do, they go to prison." The monster is shocked by the news and, oh, so relieved. "Oh. Should I call her back then?"

Scenario #2-

"I-I won't eat you! What the hell?!" Saying that you two are shocked is an understatement. "What?" The monster asks, still lying on the bed, ready to face his fate. "I won't eat you!" "You won't? So we can do this again?"

You have two options here: you can freak out and send him away ooooor you can take it as a compliment. He wanted to have sex with you so much he was ready to die for it.

An extra scenario

It's before the sex. You two have been dating for months now, but things never go further than a few passionate kisses every now and again.

And you are at your wits's end.

"What's wrong?" You ask him one night. You are at your place, having a movie night on the couch. "What do you mean?" You scowl at him. "You know what I mean," you tell him. "Look, if you want to wait, I understand, but you have to tell me something." The monster looks awkward and... scared? "What? Do you not find me attractive?" You ask him, worried. "Or there is someone else? Please, don't tell me you are married!" "No! No! No!" He gasps, surprised by your assumptions. "I just..." "Yes?" "I don't want you to eat me afterward!" "WHAT?!"

#sweet asks #monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #monster boyfriend

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tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang · 3 days

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I always worry when I see motorcycles out in the rain unprotected, if if anything would actually happen if they got too wet but it Concerns Me, anywho what do you think the boys were at school when it starts raining and when they get the chance to leave/go check on their bike they some girl vibrating with anxiety trying to protect it with an umbrella? I imagine shes trying to cover the engine, not knowing where it is, so just trying to shield as much bike as possible while getting rained on without noticing.

Oh this sounds like a cool idea!!! This is how I think the guys would react!

Mikey- "huh?" He's just very confused at first, doesn't understand what you're doing. Walks over and actually starts talking about how cool his ride is instead, assumes you were admiring his bike. When you actually explain, he laughs and points out where the engine is. He likes you though, you pique his interest.

Draken- Starts shouting, he immediately assumes you're trying to do something to his ride. Immediately feels bad after seeing your startled look and shaking form though. Thinks it was nice of you to try and thanks you.

Takemichi- He also has no idea if his bike is ok or not, actually asks you for advice but both of you are lost.

Baji- Asks if you're looking for a fight but sighs and backs down after realising you're a girl and what you're trying to do. Thinks of you as a good person and offers to drive you home.

Chifuyu- He's so touched by this gesture, doesn't know what to do for a moment. Ends up grinning brightly at you and thanking you. It doesn't end after that though, he considers you to be his friend now and goes looking for you.

Mitsuya- He's more worried about you then the bike, worries you'll catch a cold and wants to know how long you've been out there. Ends up taking you back to his house and making you hot chocolate as a thanks and to ensure you're okay.

Pah- Rushes over to you about to throw a punch for being too close to his bike but holds back after realising you're a girl. After you frantically explain, he nods at you and thanks you. Promises that you have the protection of the third division of toman for this.

Peh- Starts shouting at you but stops as he gets closer (he's worried about making a girl cry again). He's generally confused as to why you were trying to help him though. Brags about this encounter to Pah later.

Smiley- Sneaks up on you before asking if you wanna die, was expecting you to be a rival gang member messing with him not some girl trying to help him. He ends up introducing himself to you and gives you his number, saying the two of you should hang out later.

Angry- He thinks you're very thoughtful and thanks you a lot, even runs all the way back to his locker to grab a spare towel in case you got wet. Offers to drive you home after so you don't have to walk in the rain.

Sanzu- Immediately becomes concerned, he's very protective over his bike. Will ask if you touched it. He's suspicious of you, thinking you would only do this if you wanted something from him. Vows to keep an eye on you after this.

Kazutora- He's a bit flustered, it's not everyday that someone does something so nice for him. Wants to know more about you and hang out more after this since you seem like a nice person. Also thinks of himself as being indebted to you now.

Hanma- Thinks the whole situation is funny, but is still very interested in you. This is something different. Tells you where the engine is but points at the wrong place to see if you believe him, then laughs when you do.

Inui- Raises an eyebrow at you, mutters something then drives off.

Taiju- Grabs your arm to move you away from his bike but stops as you explain. Laughs a lot at you but deep down he kind of appreciates the effort. Tells you he won't forget this, you're not sure if that's a promise or threat.

Izana- Stares at you blankly before thinking he understands the situation but definitely getting it wrong. Says things that make 0 sense to you. "So you want to work for me huh" "What????" "You chose wisely" You basically end up being adopted/ kidnapped by tenjiku.

Kakucho- Asks what you're doing then shakes your hand after as a thank you (he was going to pat your shoulder but suddenly panicked that a girl may not like that so settles for a hand shake). Mentally makes a note to look out for you in the future.

Shion- Assumes you know who he is and that you admire him greatly. Talks a lot at you and tries to show off, tells you that if you're ever in danger you can just tell your attackers his name and they'll back off knowing you're with him.

Ran- Laughs at how confused you look, he thinks it's cute like a little lost chick. Is actually a bit to surprised to realise you didn't seem to realise it was his bike you were trying to protect.

Rindou- Looks you and and down before sighing, tells you to hop on the back and he'll drive you home but then the two of you are even and never have to speak again (you definitely end up as best friends).

Mochi- He's actually touched by this, thinks you're a pretty cool girl for trying this hard to protect something of his. Drives you to a cafe to grab something warm for you as a thank you, also tells you a bit about bikes on the way.

Shinichiro- He's a bit confused as to why you don't know where the engine is (he just assumes it's common knowledge) but is thankful to you. Drives you home and gives you his number so he can teach you about bikes in the future (he just assumes you're interested) also flirts a little.

Takeomi- Blinks at you and asks what's up, he acts a little rudely after you tell him but tbf he's just a bit surprised and isn't thinking about what he's saying. Still thanks you though.

Wakasa- Gives you a lazy grin and points the engine out to you. Doesn't offer you a lift but just assumes you'll say yes so helps you onto the back.

Benkei- Actually worries that something is wrong at first and that someone sent you here. Once that's cleared up he nods at you and says you have his respect.

South- Grins down at you, assuming this will end in a fight. Is actually a little disappointed when he finds out why you were there. He's a bit unsure of how to respond exactly and just leaves you there without saying another word. He finds you again a day later though to thank you and starts hanging out with you occasionally.

#tokyo revengers #tokrev #tokyo rev

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acourtofthought · 18 hours

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I find Lucien's story to be set up in such a tragically beautiful way.

Cassian, Rhys, Az. They are over centuries old and while they hadn't yet found their mates in all that time, while they weren't entirely sure they existed, I imagine they still had hope. They wondered if it would ever happen to them, if they'd find her and though they at times were probably left feeling as if they never would, there was a small part of them that believed it was still possible (something Cassian confirms when he says deep down he was holding out for a bond and Az who according to Rhys still wondered why a bond between he and Mor hadn't yet snapped).

But Lucien spent centuries thinking his chance at that kind of love was taken from him. He believed he had her and lost her to death and that was it, there would be no possible love for him that would be greater than marriage, a gift from the Mother. No way to love someone so much that even if one didn't snap immediately, he thought it was a real possibility that it someday would because he already knew he'd had that one chance and it slipped through his fingers.

Lucien has spent centuries without even that kernel of hope that the others had.

Then one day his mating bond did snap and with it a torrent of emotions. Guilt and a sense of betrayal to the memory of Jesminda but maybe, the first hope he's had in centuries of the ability to actually love again. To feel he might be allowed to open his heart to another because he knows mating bonds are a gift.

Only to be left hopeless once more upon the realization that Elain was in love with someone else, that she wanted to marry someone else. So he sets off on what is essentially a suicide mission because what else is there for him but to sacrifice himself for the greater good, to show that he believes in Elain's vision and will do what he can to help them win this war. Not because there's anything left for him to personally fight for, he has no home, he's once again left without love, his closest friendships are in a tenuous state.

Then that spark of hope is reignited at the end of ACOWAR when Elain chooses to walk with Feyre and him rather than staying behind. When she peers up at him and invites him to come to Velaris.

Only to .......... well, we know the rest.

I believe that SJM has written Lucien's arc this way because only the best things are in his future but his story so far is so unbearably tragic to me. This is a male who continues trying to move forward despite having lost all hope. Who, the moment he sees a flicker in the darkness has it suddenly taken away yet he keeps going. He helps those around him regardless of feeling it is of any benefit to him. He helps those in Spring despite them not truly being his people. He helps the NC despite them not truly being his people. He helps those in the human lands despite them not truly being his people.

To me, THIS is why Lucien is the King of Men of the ACOTAR series. Everything he does is to the benefit of others despite getting very little in return. He gives and takes nothing, expects nothing.

When an author writes them like that?? Yeah, Lucien is not going to be getting some second-rate love story. He's going to be part of Feyre's family as her brother-in-law (SJM isn't on record talking about the crazy chemistry of their friendship for nothing), he's going to be High Lord. And he's going to get the girl.

#pro elucien #elucien #pro lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra #lucien supremacy #high king lucien #lucien acotar

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bluecollarmcandtf · 14 hours

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Don't get possessed!

You'll end up like this...

Gassy air bubbled from deep inside my soft, pudgy stomach. The smell of semi-digested beer wafted into my nose as my lips flapped in the gust of a violent belch dragging itself out. God, this body was disgusting, but this is what I did to it; this is what I did to him...

I used his cellphone to snap a pic of the sweaty slab of meat I'd been wearing for the past three years. It was the disgraced body of a former jock. Jake's stomach rumbled like it always did when I filled it to the brim. Even after all this time, it still hasn't adapted to the crap I've constantly been stuffing it with.

Swallowing yet another beer, I toss the can into the corner of his dark living room, where it collided with discarded pizza boxes and half empty milk jugs. I'd let the entire apartment overflow with the garbage generated by this once-godly body, and there was a lot of it.

The place smelled like a dumpster in the sun.

You might think this is a disgusting way to live. Well, I did too. Everything about the situation was nasty; the damp basement apartment, the stacks of dirty dishes, the closet of unwashed clothes. The entire place had a permanent stench of body odor, and I know it followed this body around everywhere.

I had never in my life felt so absolutely disgusted by my surroundings.

But that was the exact fucking point.

To explain, we'll have to flash back to a few years ago. Let me show you a photo of Jake when I first possessed him. I took this right after jumping into his perfect body...

The athlete had just gotten back from the gym. It was another perfect workout for the perfect jock, and I could feel the grit and intensity swelling in every muscle. The college footballer would normally shower after any physical activity, but I was happy to crack open a beer and bask in his sweaty glory.

I don't know if you could tell, but I am not a fan of Jake.

He was a pretentious bully at my university, and he got away with anything. I tried my best to stay out of his way, but ultimately found myself staring into the headlights of his fancy Christmas present: a shiny black camaro. The asshole ended my life while driving back to campus after one of his famous parties!

I hate to be dramatic, but I was not ready to pass away, and I was not going to let an asshole like Jake get away with my murder. The police couldn't solve the crime any more than I could console my mourning family, so I took matters into my own ghostly hands.

Jake, beautiful Jake, didn't have a single iota of remorse. He continued to get belligerently drunk, and continued to shame and ridicule anyone shorter, weaker, or fatter than him, which was just about anyone. The worst part was people let him: they allowed it because he was the strongest, the most handsome, the prize quarterback with a winning smile!

I had to do something to stop the piece of trash lurking inside his god-like body.

So I possessed him. And I did this...

When I took over, it was like putting on a body suit. As a ghost, I was invisible, so I got right behind and slipped inside. First, I shoved a leg in, then an arm, and then the rest followed.

He struggled, flailing the few body parts he still had control over, but it was in vain!

My head was the last thing to get situated, but once I slid it into place, his yelling subsided. His thoughts evaporated, and I broke in his handsome face with a wicked smile. It felt different, grinning with someone else's mouth, but I was just glad to have a body again. His was definitely an upgrade compared to my old one. The height I stood at, the breadth of my shoulders, the weight of muscular pecs hanging off my chest; it all took some getting used to.

I enjoyed living inside the jock's body, but I was on a revenge mission. The first thing I wanted to screw up was his diet!

I started shoveling massive amounts of fast-food down his throat three times a day, packing on forty pounds in just a couple weeks. Obviously, I quit going to his football practice and even dropped out from his classes. I needed the time to bulk his body up.

His teammates and coaches all reached out, but I told them to get lost. He took everything from me, so I wanted to do the same to him...

This is a pic I took of Jake's body after almost a year of controlling him. I wanted him to look and smell as awful as possible in public, so I kept him as sweaty and hairy as I could. Despite my best efforts, his attractiveness was still shining through. If anything, he looked like a hot, hard-working bear on the way home from the job, and that was not what I wanted.

This made me realize that I could destroy more than just his looks.

In his body, I marched back to campus and begged the manager of the university gym for a job. A bunch of his old friends were there to see it, so I made sure to act as pathetic as possible in the six foot hunk, practically grovelling for any position. I even dropped to Jake's knees in front of the guy, giving a lot of the gym-goers second hand embarrassment.

Ultimately, the manager offered me a janitorial position if I would shut up. I accepted it gladly, kissing the guys shoes with Jake's lips like some kind of submissive idiot.

So even though Jake's body was still attractive with the extra weight and fur I'd given it, the dingey old uniform of a janitor made sure to mark him as the bottom of the food chain. I wore it like a badge of honor, even if I never washed the damn thing. Wearing a stained boilersuit labelled 'janitor' everywhere definitely told the world what Jake was worth!

By that point, people really only saw Jake as a walking mop, if they even looked his direction at all...

This last picture is one I took after about a year of working for the school. No one had spoken to me (Jake) in that entire time, unless they needed a toilet unclogged. The man had truly lost any respect people had for him.

The overalls hide the giant gut I'd managed to grow on his torso, but you can look at the top pic if you want to see how fat and hairy I ultimately got him. He looked nothing like the explosive athlete he'd been a couple years ago.

I took that photo right before I released Jake's to his body.

The jock probably wouldn't recognize himself. He'd wonder why he was suddenly so fat and hairy. He'd be terrified by the janitorial uniform on his back and even more horrified by the layers of dried sweat swamping his skin. It wouldn't be until he realized how much time had passed that he would fully understand the punishment I'd carved out for him. I wonder how he'll react when he finds out that he's spent the last three years scrubbing floors in the gym instead of working out in it.

I wonder if he'll clean himself up and learn a lesson? Or maybe he'll just accept his fate and give in to the habits I've made for his body. I don't know, and I don't care.

I'll be long gone by then.

Honestly, I have to admit that it's kind of fun living like this. Disgusting, sure, but there's something about reveling in the laziness, the degradation, the stink. I never allowed myself to be so laid back in life. Maybe, I learned something from this experience with Jake as well. I'm starting to think I'll find a new body to possess and live in. Someone I can take over and use for my own immediate pleasures.

Maybe you're the right candidate! You've got a nice body I could jump into. You won't mind if I hop in and drive for a few years, would you? You'll be disgusted by the state I leave you in, but hey it's not like it's my body I'm fucking up, right!

#degredation kink #humiliation kink #male possession

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golden1u5t · 2 days

Text

mess it up | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: angst + fluff

ꨄ summary: spencer hadn't been answering any of your phone calls and every time you showed up at his apartment he pretended he wasn't home. so, you go to his job, hoping to get a second chance with him. based on “mess it up” by gracie abrams

there had been towering walls built around your heart, walls you thought were indestructible, walls that had shielded you from being vulnerable. for the three months you and spencer had together, getting to know each other and exploring something that could have turned out great, the walls you built had started to crack and it scared you.

you found yourself starting to care for him, more than you ever cared for anyone before. you were scared of letting him get too close, scared of a possible heartbreak, so you closed yourself off again. the mere thought of letting someone in again, of exposing all your fears and insecurities, sent shivers down your spine.

the day you broke things off with him you thought you were doing the right thing, the thing that was best for you. you hadn't realized you missed him so much until you started losing track of your days. days turned into weeks and the weight of it piled on top of you until you finally broke.

that's when you finally reached back out to him, started leaving messages and voicemails that he never responded to. you had even went so far as to sitting outside of his apartment hoping that you would run into him, you never did.

so here you are, sitting in your car in the parking lot of his job, your fingers tapping against your thigh as you watched the raindrops race down the windowpane, each drop mirroring the turmoil deep in your gut.

you looked over to the passenger seat and picked up your phone. with trembling hands, you went into his contact and type out a message- an apology that would probably end up sitting with the rest of the apologies you've sent.

you let out a shaky breath and looked up at the building in front of you before looking back down and deleting the entire message. you figured that there was no point in sending a message when you were right in front of his job.

+++

derek spotted you as soon as you stepped off the elevator. it was purely coincidental but he's glad he saw you because he was able to jump out of his seat and stop you before you entered the bullpen.

"what are you doing here?" he crossed his arms over his chest and looked you up and down, making it known he wasn't exactly happy to see you. when you and spencer broke up he went to derek for advice, mostly because derek was like a big brother to spencer but also because he had the most experience with women.

given his attitude towards you, you knew that he knew about everything that went down with you and spencer and he wasn't just going to let you off that easily.

"¡ need to talk to him." you tried to look around him to see if you could get a glimpse of spencer but derek just moved his body in every direction you did. "derek, please just-"

"no. he's just now coming back around, i'm not about to let you mess everything up again."

"that's not fair. you don't know everything about the situation."

"i know enough."

while you and derek stood outside of the office arguing, spencer was coming out of hotch's office. as he walked down the stairs he noticed that mainly everyone's gaze was directed to the double doors.

"who is morgan talking to?" he asked, dropping the pile of reports on his desk. he looked back at derek and furrowed his brows, he could tell by his body language that he was not happy with the conversation.

"oh, boy genius! i need your help with something." garcia turned to him and quickly stood up of her chair, she placed a hand on his shoulder and tried to usher him away before he found out that it was you behind those doors. just like derek, she and everyone else only wanted what's best for him.

she couldn't get him away fast enough because the doors opened as someone walked in and right before they closed again, spencer could here your name come from dereks mouth.

"y/n?" his lips turned down and he quickly turned back around, garcia's hand falling off of his shoulder as he started to walk towards the doors.

even though he had been ignoring your calls and messages, he couldn't just ignore you showing up. everything derek had told him about just cutting you out of his life forever and all of those things were being thrown out of the window as spencer walked through those doors, he figured that you showing up had to count for something.

"morgan, can you- i can handle it from here." derek started to protest against it but spencer gave him a pleading look so he backed off. spencer waited until derek was back in the office before he put his focus on you. "why are you here?"

"you haven't been answering my messages." you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you stood in front of him for the first time in a while. you looked him over and figured he still looked the same but his hair was different—he was still that same boy you fell for.

"you made it clear that you weren't interested it me." spencer pressed his lips into a thin line and crossed his arms over his chest. he tried to make it seem like he was over it all but he wasn't, his heart was pounding just as hard as yours. "what else is there to say?"

"you don't understand. I've never-spencer, i've never liked someone as much as i like you and that scares me." you take a step closer to him. "i was scared that you would see my flaws and decide you didn't want me anymore. after i had already opened myself up to you, after i became vulnerable."

"you didn't give me a chance to decide that for myself, even though i would have never done such a thing! i liked you a lot, i thought we could actually have something together." spencer's arms dropped to his sides.

"i'm so sorry, spencer, and i know i've said it a million times but i truly am. after getting to have a glimpse of what we could've been, i want that with you. i miss the long conversations we had, i miss all the phone calls we shared when you were away, i miss the feeling of your arms around me."

spencer swallowed the lump in his throat, he couldn't lie and say he didn't miss those things too. he knew he should probably just turn back around and go back to work, say that you had your chance with him and you blew it, but relationships were never spencer's strong suit and he really did like you.

"i'm willing to try again but this is the only chance i'm giving you so if you mess it up-"

"¡ won't. i promise." you shook your head quickly. spencer bit down on his lips before giving in and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and letting out a sigh as he remembered how much he really did miss holding you. for a moment, you both stood there, holding each other close and breathing in each other's scent. you eventually pulled away, reluctantly though. “i want to take you out tonight, on a date."

"¡ thought the guys are supposed to take the girls out?" he teased, laughing when you rolled your eyes and shoved his chest.

"j'm serious, ill pick you up around 8." you said, figuring that'll give him enough time to get settled back down from work before you picked him up. "okay now get back to work before you get fired or something. your friends hate me enough as it is."

"they don't hate you." he replied. you raised your eyebrows as you could see right through the lie. "okay, maybe they do."

you shook your head at him and gently pushed him back, urging him to go back into the office. you watched as he made his way through the doors, ignoring the dirty looks you were getting from everyone else.

as you walked out of the building, you felt that a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. you knew you would have to work on tearing those walls around your heart down but for spencer it'll be worth it.

#golden1u5t #myrarants #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #sub spencer reid #soft dom spencer reid #dom spencer reid #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x fem!reader angst #spencer reid x fem!reader fluff

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deepcreekvultures-writing · 1 day

Text

"Tequila and Palmistry"

Spencer Reid x Drunk!Reader

Words: 4,754

Tags: Drunken Flirting, Spencer Reid Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Spencer Reid takes care of drunk reader, Spencer Reid Ranting, Mentions of Violence, Spencer Reid's hands, I Love Spencer Reid, Feelings, Idiots in Love, Drunk Reader, Early Seasons Spencer (S1/Early S2)

After a tough case where you were almost killed by the unsub, the team decides to go to the bar and unwind. While there, Spencer ends up having to keep you from going off the deep end.

==========

Watching you drink was like watching an Olympic sprinter in their prime. You were slamming shots back like they were nothing as soon as the team got to the bar.

The last case was particularly intense for you, considering you fit the unsubs target perfectly. No one batted an eye at you nursing yourself with alcohol.

Except Spencer.

He had attempted to say something after your fourth shot, but Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered a soft “Let her have this, kid.”

After your sixth shot of tequila, you moved on to tequila sunrises, which you went through like water. Gideon finally put his foot down after your third sunrise, instructing you to make the fourth last because you were being cut off.

Luckily for Gideon, you weren’t a mean drunk.

Spencer was surprised at how peppy you were under the influence. During cases, you kept your guard up, letting loose just a little when you were alone with Spencer, but you always kept it at arm's length.

At some point, you slid your glass into Spencer’s hand, grabbing Elle and Penelope by the wrists and pulling them to the center of the bar to dance. He glances down at the glass in confusion before looking up at Hotch and Morgan. Hotch smiles to himself, sipping on his beer, while Morgan whistles playfully.

“She trusts you with her drink, Pretty Boy. That’s an accomplishment.”

“Actually, this bar invests in straws that are able to detect whether or not Rohypnol or any other drugs are in the drink.” Spencer responds, still keeping the glass in his grasp.

“I’m sure she’s too slammed to notice, Reid.” Derek chuckles in response.

“This is a one-time deal; next time we go out together, we have to make sure she doesn’t go off the rails like this again.” Hotch sighs, glancing over at you, dancing with Elle and Penelope, who are more focused on making sure you don’t fall. Gideon grabs his jacket, sliding it on.

“It was a hard case for her; she needs to let off some steam. Why aren’t you drinking anyway?” Morgan asks, leaning over to Spencer.

“I don’t really drink.” Spencer shrugs, flicking his finger against the smooth of the glass. His eyes trained on the straw in your cup. As much as he wanted to convince himself that you gave him your drink on purpose, it was just too unlikely for him to really dwell on it.

Except he did dwell on it.

His eyes slid over to you. Your hair fell over your face as you danced around, your features illuminated by the dim lighting, and your soft eyes shone as you smiled. Spencer isn’t sure how to feel about you being so drunk.

On one hand, you were pretty much catatonic after your interaction with the unsub. You sat next to him in the jet, staring down at your dirt-covered hands, completely still for the almost 3-hour flight.

On the other hand, he knew you were only drinking to try and get the awful taste out of your mouth. The terrible twisting of your stomach that caused you to dry-heave in the jet’s lavatory for half an hour before takeoff.

Gideon stands from his place at the end of the booth; he rounds the table and leans down to speak with Spencer. “You’re in charge of her.”

All Spencer can do is nod, as Gideon leaves quickly after with not much more than a wave. But as you made your way back to the table, somehow finding your way between Reid and Morgan in the booth, he couldn’t help but feel relief.

He handed you the drink, and you took a small sip before turning your whole body towards him and looking him directly in the eyes.

“Did you try it?” You asked seriously.

“No- No, I didn’t.” Spencer shakes his head, embarrassment tinting his cheeks.

“Whaat??” You pulled back, your face contorting into stern confusion. “You have to try it, now—here, here.”

You held it out to him, your fingers delicately holding the straw for him.

Ignoring the snickers from the others, Spencer leans in and takes a small sip. The tequila burns, but it’s rounded out nicely by the sweetness of the grenadine and the soft tart flavor of the orange juice.

Clearing his throat, Spencer speaks, “Originally, tequila sunrises contained tequila, lime juice, soda water, and créme de cassis when it was initially invented at the Arizona Biltmore Hotel in the 30s or 40s.”

You stared at him as he spoke, wide-eyed with your lips slightly parted. You blinked a few times, eyebrows furrowing as you tried to follow what he was saying.

“The modern tequila sunrise was popularized in the 70s by the Rolling Stones when they were kicking off their tour at a bar in Sausalito, California.” You nodded slowly at his explanation, your lips pulling into a bright smile as you set your cup down on the table.

He didn’t really think you understood that. But your face shone like the first burst of light at dawn, waking the morning flowers from the chill of night.

His face warms, looking away from you to glance around the bar. Morgan taps your shoulder, grabbing your attention. Using his hands to shield your ear, he whispers something to you, causing you to break out into a fit of loud giggles. Derek shushes you, laughing along.

Your hands find your face as you slump back into the booth, muffling your laughter into your palms. After laughing for a good five minutes, you drop your hands into your lap. Your face was flushed, your eyes moist with laughter-filled tears. Your lips are pulled into a bright, sloppy smile, your teeth shining against the dull light of the bar. A few strands of hair fell into your face.

Derek looked proud of himself, shooting Spencer with a knowing look. Gesturing to you, mouthing ‘go for it’.

Spencer ignores him, looking around the bar in an attempt to ignore the flushed beauty beside him. But you turn, grabbing his arm.

“Spencer,” You shake him a bit, trying to get his attention. He was already looking at you, but you shook him anyway. “Spencer, Spencer, where’s Gideon?”

“Uhm, he left a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, boo, how lame." You pout, your hand still firmly holding Spencer’s bicep. You turn your head, eyeing your drink. A grin creeps slowly onto your face.

“Don’t get any ideas. You’re still cut off.” Hotch interjects, noticing the way you were eyeing your glass.

You deflate immediately, slumping into the seat, your hands falling into your lap as you pout. Spencer watches you, a little amused but ultimately concerned with your shift in mood.

After letting you stew for a minute, Spencer turns to you, clearing his throat before opening his mouth to speak. He falters, however, when he sees your face.

Your bottom lip juts out, glistening under the light and drawing his eyes. Downcast eyes steal his attention from your lips, leading him to your upturned palms. Your pout melts into a deep frown, your inebriated brain feeding the memories of what happened just 5 hours ago.

“Uhm,” Spencer starts, leaning over to point at your hands, “have you heard of palm reading?” His voice is unsure, wavering a little as you look up at him.

You both nod and shake your head, your eyes widening a little as he pulls you out of your thoughts. Putting your hands down on the seat, you push yourself up, giving Spencer your full attention. You stare at him for a second before scrambling to show him your hands again.

“It’s also called palmistry or chiromancy, and it’s unknown where it originated exactly.” Spencer bites his lip, glancing down at your palms. “But it has ties to a lot of eastern cultures.”

“Like where?” You ask, your voice insistent.

“Indian, Tibetan, Chinese, Nepali, Persian, Babylonian, Canaan, Sumer, and Arabian cultures have history with palm reading.” He lists, watching as you slowly tilt your head down, trying to follow his words. Your eyes never leave his face, squinting slightly as his words slip in one ear and out the other.

Deciding to just keep talking rather than waiting for you to speak, Spencer continues, “Palm reading uses the natural creases in the flesh of your palms to predict things about your life and personality.”

Spencer hesitates before placing his left hand underneath yours, settling his palm against the back of your hands. Chewing on his bottom lip, he uses his right hand to map out your palms. His index finger hovers, making sure not to touch the lightly calloused skin.

“Are my palms-” You lean a little closer, your eyes wide as your gaze flicks between his face and your hands. “Are my palms whispering to you?”

You were whispering to him—well, more like mumbling. Spencer furrows his eyebrows, leaning back a bit.

“Are your- are they what?” He stammers, a smile threatening to pull at the corners of his lips. You giggle, letting your head fall forward and rest in your open hands. You stay like that for a second to let it out before lifting your head again.

“You’re so cute, Dr. Reid.” A heavy sigh follows that statement, along with a sloppy grin. Before Spencer has the opportunity to flounder in response, you continue, “What were we talking about?”

“Um... Palm Reading?” His slender fingers tap against the back of your hands mindlessly.

You purse your lips, squinting your eyes just a smidge before smiling again.

“Okay, okay, keep telling me about it." You scoot a little closer, folding one of your legs under you, your knee knocking against his thigh. “Please?”

Your face was still flushed, though Spencer wasn’t sure if it was from the tequila that still lingered on your breath or from the fact that you were sitting so close to him.

“Oh, yeah- yeah, sure…” He bites at his bottom lip, looking back down at your palms. “So... the main lines used for palmistry are the life line, the heart line, the fate line, and the head line…”

Spencer continues talking, making sure to keep his gaze cast down to your hands as he explains what people look for when reading palms. You stayed quiet, and he was almost positive that you weren’t listening; honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if you had fallen asleep.

He maps out each line for you after thoroughly explaining what each of them meant. Spencer didn’t really believe in palmistry or astrology, but he had to admit that so far it was pretty accurate.

Especially when your life line described you as enthusiastic and courageous.

That was one of the many things Spencer admired about you. You had no qualms about being who you wanted to be, and it gave him the confidence to do the same.

Though sometimes you had a hard time remembering that about yourself.

“…and your heart line tells us about your cardiac health, possible depression, emotional stability, and, um… and romantic perspectives.” Spencer swallows, his shoulders slightly hunched as he looks intently at your palms. You straighten up, drawing his eyes to your face.

Your lips parted, your eyes holding excitement as you looked down at your own palms. Glancing up at him and meeting his eyes, you smile, the tip of your tongue fitting between your teeth.

“Keep going.” You whisper, nodding at him incessantly. Spencer pauses, unable to tear away from the light shine in your eyes, illuminated by the warm lighting hanging from the rafters of the bar.

“…your- your heart line, um,” he stumbles over his words, snapping his head back down to look at the crease in the fleshy part of your palm. “Your heart line begins in between your middle and index fingers, and it’s straight and parallel to your head line.”

Spencer finally presses the pad of his finger into your palm, dragging it along the crease as he talks. He still cradles your hand lightly with his other, his thumb absentmindedly sliding against your knuckles.

“Mm, what does it mean?” You ask sloppily, your articulation faltering.

“It means that you are... caring and understanding.” He slides his finger back to where the line begins, noticing how your fingers twitch. “And that you have a good handle on your emotions.” At that, you laugh, gently bumping your head against his as you do.

“Doesn’t feel like it.” You mumble, your head partially sliding against his as you slump into him. Spencer stiffens at the contact.

“Sorry, ‘m tired,” You wiggle your fingers, attempting to draw his attention back to your hands.

“So, like- does it say anything about who I’m gonna… marry?”

“No- uhm, no, not who.” Spencer swallows; the weight of your head dropping onto his shoulder scrambles his thoughts. “But the marriage line is here.” He slides his finger to the small line underneath your pinky.

“It’s pretty straight, which means that you’ll have a long, happy marriage.”

You hum in acknowledgment, looking down briefly at your palms before turning your hands over and wrapping your hands around his. Spencer looks up, making eye contact with Elle, who mouths a ‘wow’ before sipping her drink.

His attention is drawn back to you as you drag yourself off of him haphazardly. You turn his hands, exposing his own palms as you lean down, hunching over them to get a closer look.

There is almost no way you could even see the lines in his palms very well, considering that your head was blocking the lights.

Lifting your head suddenly, Spencer has to pull back to avoid getting smacked in the face.

“This line probably means that you’re suuper smart and stuff,” you say, tapping his head line with your pinky. “And this line probably says that you’re really cute, and this line probably says that you’re like… I dunno, a little silly." You alternate tapping at his different lines. You were trying—kind of.

Spencer’s face grows hot, swallowing hard and trying to remind himself that this was just you, completely inebriated and not thinking straight.

“Silly?” He raises his eyebrows, watching your face with concern.

“Uhuh, silly. Like… like… I don’t know; you’re just silly. And gorgeous.” You look down at his hands and say, “And you have really pretty hands.”

Spencer stares at you, his mouth gaping like a fish as his eyes slide around your features.

You blinked slowly, your hands sliding against his as you fidget with his slender fingers.

“Oh!” You exclaimed way too loudly for the small bar. You pull yourself away from him, the force with which you do so causes you to tilt back and fall into Morgan.

Spencer scrambles to grab your forearms, pulling you off of Morgan. “Are- are you okay?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“You don’t like it when people touch you!” You attempt to wiggle yourself out of his grip, failing despite how loose his hold was.

A deep pout rests on your lips, and you look up at him guiltily.

“No, it’s fine.” He tries to still you, embarrassed by your antics. “It’s okay; you’re fine, I don’t mind. Let's get you home, okay?”

“Huh?? No, no, I’m having so much funn” You flounder, slumping yourself into the seat in protest. You start to slide off the booth seat, your lower body disappearing under the table.

Spencer stammers, hooking his arms around yours and attempting to keep you from slipping to the floor.

“Woah, no, come on, I’ll take you home and I can teach you how to read my palms?” He pulls on your arms, looking over at Morgan, who lends a hand by wrapping an arm around your torso and pulling you back onto the seat. Morgan snickers, but leaves Spencer to handle your state of unrest.

“I already know enough about you, gorgeous-genius-doctor-boy, but can’t you dance with me?” You whine, Spencer’s arms are still hooked around you to keep you from slipping away again.

“I- well… No- no, not here, we can dance at your apartment?” he suggests, gently pulling you out of the booth.

You let him pull you, offering little help until he forces you to stand. Staring up at him with a pouty glare, you huff, the gears turning in your head.

“Promise?” You hold out your pinky, wiggling it at him.

He relents, hooking his pinky around yours. You smile, latching your finger around his in a tight grip.

“Okay! Bye losers!” You shout at the rest of the table, unceremoniously dragging Spencer away. He attempts to grab his bag from the booth, but your grip is too tight.

Elle manages to toss it to him, his hands fumbling to get a good grip on it as he’s wrenched through the exit of the bar.

“Wait, slow down!” He yelps, shoulder-checking the door as you tug him down the stairs.

“Come on, pretty boy, relax!” You laugh

“Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Northbound.” You say, deepening your voice and pointing to your right.

“That’s east.” Using his free hand, Spencer spins you to face him. “We’re calling a cab.”

You scoff, letting go of his pinky finally as you flail your arms at your sides.

“No, what, no- no, no, no, I’m not getting buried again, Spencer." You whine, the weight of your words slipping off your shoulders, numbed by the tequila in your system.

Spencer frowns, his eyebrows raising slightly as he looks at you. Your loosened, drunken state could only mask your worries to some extent.

“You won’t be buried; I��m with you,” he says, placing his hands on your biceps.

“But you could get hurt... and I don’t wanna see your gorgeous face and body all... like... dead." Your articulation slips, words blending together. Tapping the tip of his nose with the side of your finger, you pout, shuffling your weight from foot to foot.

“I won’t die; I’m gonna get you home, and then you’re going to bed-“ A hand slaps over his mouth, a little harder than necessary.

“We’re dancing.” You say sternly, rubbing his mouth with your palm, when you realize that you hit him harder than intended.

“Okay- okay, stop-stop doing that,” He grabs your wrist, pulling your hand to the side. “I’m gonna get you home, and then we’ll dance.”

Pleased, you hum lightly, closing your eyes. “Let’s do it, honey bee.”

Spencer ignores the churning in his stomach as he leads you along the sidewalk. Your hand slides around his body as you circle around him. Up and down his chest, around his waist, and up his spine. It was dizzying how well you were circling him despite the alcohol coursing through your system. You only stumbled once or twice, grabbing onto him each time to steady yourself.

Spencer was having a hard time keeping it together; it was already hard enough keeping his feelings to himself day to day when you acted like a normal person. Drunk you was making everything way harder. He wondered if he told you exactly how he felt if you would remember.

You weren’t acting completely blacked out drunk, and Spencer had never seen you like this before. He was just glad you were a nice drunk. And mildly manageable.

He was very glad that your apartment was on the ground floor; he didn’t have to worry about getting you up stairs. You stood next to Spencer, your right hand against the white door, as you fumbled with your keys in your left. Pouting down at the object, you let out an annoyed huff, tilting your head to the side and squinting at the ring of keys.

“Who needs this many keys?” You grumbled, letting your fingers go slack as Spencer takes the keys from you.

“You, apparently.” Spencer smiles, finding your door key and unlocking the door. He ushers you inside, his hand finding its way to rest on your back, pretty much pushing you through the doorway.

Kicking your shoes off, you turn to Spencer “Shoes off, Cowboy, we can’t have my carpeting get all grody.”

Spencer nods, smiling at the nickname but ultimately ignoring it. He takes off his shoes, setting his bag next to them, before straightening up and beelining to your kitchen. Opening each cabinet, he finally finds your cups. You stumble your way to lean on the counter next to him, pursing your lips at him.

“What’re you doing?” You ask, glaring at the cup in his hand as he fills it with water.

“Drink this,” Spencer holds it out to you. You just stare at it, pressing your lips into a thin line. “Please?” He sighs, pouting just a little. Your face lights up at his plea, your mouth falling open and your face flushing red.

"Spencer, you can’t do that, not fair.” You snatch the cup from him, chugging the water out of spite. Spencer watches you, his eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed together in confusion.

Slamming the cup onto the counter, you hold up your arms, “Okay! Dance time, come here!”

Spencer is dragged back into the living room, your hands firmly grasping his wrists as you walk backwards. He watches your path for you, maneuvering you gently to avoid your coffee table.

Dropping his arms, you bow sloppily with a giggle, “May I have this dance?”

He chuckles, offering an awkward bow in response as he fumbles over his words, “Yeah- sure… okay.”

You laugh, sliding your hands down his forearms, your fingers brushing against the center of his palms. Curling your fingers around his, you lift his hands, tugging him closer.

He swallows the lump in his throat as his chest presses into yours. Spencer chews on his bottom lip as you settle his hands on your waist. You smelled like tequila, but the scent of your shampoo still lingered in close proximity. You smelled good—drunk, but good.

“No music?” He asks, clearing his throat as your arms wrap around his shoulders.

“Nah, my head hurts." You shake your head, guiding him in a small sway. Spencer was a little worried that you were going to have him actually dance, but he was happy to sway along with you.

Your apartment was dark, only lit by the weirdly bright fluorescent light from your kitchen. You giggled quietly to yourself as you swayed, finding it a little difficult to get him to move with you. His heart rate calms slowly as you both sway in silence. You had closed your eyes, threading your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, tracing small circles into his skin. It was nice.

The heat of your body against his fills him with warmth, and he can’t help but look away. His eyes training on the light switch a few feet away as he wills his face to not get any redder. Your touch simmered against him, the low burning embers of his feelings threatening to ignite in the dark space of your living room.

But you were drunk, and there was very little he could do to rationalize your actions beyond that. If you weren’t completely inebriated, Spencer might consider the fact that you might like him too.

“Spencer,” you call out to him softly, goading him into meeting your eyes again. He couldn’t help but notice the gravity added to your previously weightless tone.

“Yeah?” He whispers his reply, his eyes returning to your face. The swaying continues, offering a loosely followed rhythm to the conversation.

“How did you feel?” You mumble back, letting your head fall back slightly. You keep your eyes on his face, scanning his expression.

“How did... what feel?”

“Watching me crawl out.” You let out a small huff, as if he were supposed to read your mind, “Like, how did it feel for you?” Spencer freezes, his hands tightening their grip on your waist.

It felt awful.

Watching you, his headstrong, kind, confident, and loving friend, crawl your way out of a freshly packed grave. Hands bound, tears soaking mud to your cheeks, clothing torn, a hateful fire in your eyes.

It felt awful.

Watching you grapple with the unsub, using your bindings as leverage to choke the man out before crumbling to the ground in tears.

It felt awful.

Watching you bottle it up, riding to the hospital in silence, only letting the team touch you despite the insistence of the doctors.

It felt awful.

Washing off your dirt-covered hands in the jet with a small rag he had found, soaked in the cold water from the lavatory sink.

It felt awful.

But Spencer couldn’t claim that awful feeling, knowing that you must feel so much worse. You fought and fought for those two days you were held captive, feeding into the unsubs delusion to keep yourself alive.

You were the one who was thrown into a six-foot-deep hole and buried alive.

He’s not sure how to answer your question, but you watch him patiently, your fingers gently sliding down his neck.

“I… I don’t know, I was- I was scared, worried..." He whispers, his stomach churning with the thought that he shouldn’t burden you with the way he was feeling.

“You were scared…” Mumbling, you tilt your head to the side, your lips pursing and twisting to the side. “Is it bad… that you being scared for me, makes it hurt less?” Your articulation is off, and your words are almost lost to him. Inhaling sharply, Spencer leans forward a bit, his arms circling around your back and flattening against your shirt.

“No, no, it’s not bad... How did it feel for you?” He asks carefully, watching your face as it contorts in ten different ways. You sigh heavily, your arms loosely resting on his shoulders.

“It’s the worst thing... you fight and you fight, you do what you can to survive... and then you get thrown in a hole and smothered in the earth.” You pout, tilting your head to the side, fiddling with your fingers behind his head.

Spencer bites his lower lip, his eyebrows raising in concern. He watches your face, your eyes glossing over, staring into the pattern on his tie.

“Spencer… I dunno what to do with myself…” You murmur, pulling yourself closer and resting your forehead on his shoulder.

Tilting his head, his cheek presses into your hair. His hands press into your shoulder blades, giving you an awkward squeeze.

“…you don’t have to know; we can just take it one step at a time.” He speaks gently, letting his hand circle over your shoulder blade.

“Ugh… your mouth words are so gorgeous…” You mumble.

Spencer isn’t really sure what you mean, but he decides to take it at face value. “Thanks?”

You lift your head, a frown etched on your lips. As you look up at Spencer, the frown dissolves into a small smile. The bright lighting coming from your kitchen illuminates the side of your face in stark contrast to the rest of the dark room.

“You’re so gorgeous in your face too.” You slide your hands around to bracket his face, squishing it a little between your palms. Spencer’s face grows hot under the feeling of your hands, his eyes widening a bit.

“If you ever, like- I dunno, do you ever think- like, think about kissing me? Cause… if you do, you should kiss me.” Spencer goes to respond, but you slap your hand over his mouth again, rubbing his mouth soothingly afterwards.

“When I’m sober! When I’m sober so I can remember and stuff…” You take your hand off his mouth, sliding the tip of your finger down the bridge of his nose.

“Oh- uhm… yeah okay." He nods, biting his lip anxiously. His eyes flutter close at your touch, the heat of his emotions burning at the apex of his cheekbones.

You smiled sloppily up at him, content with the plan you set in place, guiding him into swaying with you again. Your finger traces his features loosely, your muscles relaxing into his touch as you start to come down from your drunken high. Tiredness crawls its way up your spine, settling into your eyelids, and you find yourself having a hard time holding them open.

“When I wake up...” You start, letting your eyes fall closed, “…when I wake up, don’t- don’t let me push you away.”

Spencer smiles at that, laughing affectionately at your words.

“Okay.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #no use of y/n #mild hurt/comfort #fluff #Spencer Reid's hands

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thegildedbee · 2 days

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Awkward: May 5 Prompt from @calaisreno

Sherlock scrambled awake, alert for any sign of someone inside the room or outside the door, keeping his breathing synced to sleep mode, waiting as his eyes adjusted to the dark. With no sensory data to detect, he cautiously propped himself on his elbow to do a perimeter scan as a second check, and provisionally decided that all was as it should be. Except now his body was in hypervigilant mode. Sleep would be a fugitive eluding his efforts to get some badly needed rest.

God, he wished he had a cigarette.

John, of course, would have disapproved. And as ridiculous as it was to follow rules of proper health given his current way of life, Sherlock refused to relinquish any mental tokens of his absent friend.

But God he wished he had a cigarette. Something to help quiet his mind, something to occupy his restless fingers, something to engender a state of detachment.

Do a breathing exercise, John would have said. You can inhale and exhale as if you were drawing in smoke and releasing it, and you’d be close to the proper breathing technique used to calm agitation. As the words floated through his mind, he began automatically following the instruction.

He’d been missing John even more intensely than usual; his recent visit to an A&E to liberate medical supplies while shamming intestinal pain had resulted in memories slyly infiltrating his consciousness, and then his subconscious, when he ruthlessly targeted them for elimination.

Too much John in his head. He hated to admit it, but the recent mental storm had likely thrown him off his game, and contributed to his cock-up the other evening. God, that had been awkward. Well, it was best described as horrifyingly embarrassing, but he was only going to concede as far as awkward.

He’d been instructed to receive a live drop of information from a contact sitting at the far left at the bar of the posh hotel near the government offices. Woman in her 30s, brown hair, green dress. He was surprised to see her in place earlier than arranged; he’d arrived early out of an abundance of caution to observe the site. Was she careless? Perhaps a novice? Or had there been a change of plans that hadn’t been communicated? He didn’t want to be here in the first place, with his head pounding as it was, so he went with the flow and sat down. He really should have realized there was a problem when she didn’t seem to understand the parole he offered, and just tossed her hair and giggled. But he thought that maybe that was what she had been told would be her half of the recognition signal.

After several tedious moments of innuendo and sultry looks he couldn’t fathom why she wasn’t just slipping the info under the cocktail napkin, then leaving, and letting him retrieve it. He had been highly annoyed at her lack of professionalism; was the flirting really necessary? They could have been colleagues from work, or strangers. There was no need for deep cover to include her hand running up his thigh. And when it seemed as if the only way to get the information was to go up to her room he nearly aborted the mission. But he needed the goddamn intel.

Awkward. But not as awkward as the fact that when she opened the door he saw a man in the room with whom she was obviously friendly. That had caused several minutes of panic that he’d walked into an ambush. Until it became clear that the reason for the flirting, and the obfuscation, and the lack of clarity, had been that she thought she had been arranging a rendezvous for a threesome.

So, not his contact. Awkward. A walk of shame back to the bar, albeit one that hadn’t included undressing and then dressing again. Where, after ten minutes, a woman in her 30s, brown hair, green dress, sat down at the far left end of the bar. Who knew how to respond to the parole. Who ordered a glass of red, lit a cigarette – damn her – crushed it out after a few moments, and left, the information he needed written on the cocktail napkin that replaced the one under the wineglass.

He really needed to hone his skills at recognizing when he was being propositioned. Although the hand on the thigh really should have clued him in. Awkward. Propositioning. Which reminded him of John. And that first evening at Angelo’s. That really could have gone better. If wishes were horses . . .

He’d been thinking so much about John lately, that he’d swore he’d caught a glimpse of him at the back of the crowded lobby at the opera house the evening before last. As if. Stupid. Awkward.

He’d even risked contacting Mycroft, afraid that somehow all the John on his mind was some kind of telepathic signal of distress. It didn’t seem so. He’d been sent a photo of John at Tesco in the check-out line, doing his usual shop. No bottles of alcohol in sight. Although he noted that there was a carton of Haagen-Dazs Biscoff and Caramel ice cream, which John said was insanely sweet, and which he only bought because it was Sherlock’s favorite.

Maybe John thought about him at times, as well.

God, he wished he had a cigarette.

........................................................ @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @friday411 @peanitbear @original-welovethebeekeeper rest of the @s in the tags, which will work for communication purposes, I hope? just say the word if you want to be tagged or untagged xoxoxo

#mayprompts2024 #calaisreno #sherlock bits and bobs #may prompts 2024 #johnlock

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eureka-its-zico · 2 days

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Violent Delights Pt. 2

Summary: On a trip with your father to Shanghai, your caravan is overrun. You are taken back to a compound of one of the most ruthless Mafia bosses in all of China: Enishi Yukishiro. Who was in need of a new plaything.

Pairing: Enishi Yukishiro x f!reader

Words: 5.6k

A/N: Whelp. Here we are again. Completely unhinged and riding the train to filth town. While the first one may have been filthy, dare I say, part 2 is like mega filth. Idk if I keep writing parts to this if it’s just going to get more unhinged (you know, porn with plot and all) or what it’ll be. For now, I just hope it’s something everyone can enjoy. Welcome to the deranged part of my brain. Much love 🖤 Jenn

Warnings: This shit is dark besties. It’s dark. Mentions of kidnapping. Dubious consent. Mafia trope. Knife play. Harem. Mentions of violence. Fingering. Voyeurism. Unprotected PnV. Oral sex. Its Smut. It's Filth. Please do not read if you are not 18+ (If I miss anything please let me know).

Part 1

Enishi’s solution to ruining your dress was simply getting rid of it all together.

The moment he’d stepped out of the bath, droplets clinging to the ends of stark white hair and racing down an exposed chest, he made his way to where you sat on the bed. Your hands were still clutching to the fabric - the last known extension of yourself. It didn’t take long for Enishi to easily knock your hands away. A strong grip on your thigh controlling you to keep you from scooting away.

His grip was vicious enough that you knew it would bruise.

The only thing left for you to do was to reminisce on what little was left of your former life. The home you would never see again. The fiancée who you’d been promised to and barely gotten to know. Would he move on easily once everyone heard about what happened? What about your friends? Would the lingering ghost of your presence haunt them in any way, or would they easily dismiss you? The plans you’d had for your life were now a fading memory - left standing inside a burning house. The truly worst thought that plagued you was the thought of your father’s body floating out into the Pacific Ocean never to be found.

You hadn’t even been able to mourn him, yourself, and your now-dead life. The only thing you could focus on was survival and surviving meant fighting.

And you wanted to fight him.

To claw your nails down the hard plains of his muscles, until they created a river to rival the water on his skin. You wanted to lash out with kicks, slaps, and hate-filled words until it dimmed the look of conquest in his eyes.

You would do anything to prove to him that, just because he’d coaxed your body to come apart on his fingers, it didn’t mean he got to claim you.

You weren’t his.

But Enishi was always in control of everything around him and now that included you.

He was quick to squash your small act of defiance. The arms you’d placed across your chest to help hold what little of your bodice remained - what remained of your dignity - were knocked away. A controlling hand applied pressure on your throat - delicious pressure - just enough to ease you back against the bed. Into the sheets that housed the sweat of your skin and your orgasm that soaked into the cotton fibers.

Enishi kept the pressure of his fingers wrapped delicately on your throat, holding you down, as his free hand tugged and ripped what was left of the top of your dress. Once he worked the material free off your shoulders, it only took a matter of seconds for him to work it down to your hips.

During the whole process, you’d remained motionless for him. Your pulse threaded against the callous digit of his thumb. Deep down you knew he placed it there - perfectly - to take notice of what would make your pulse tick faster.

Enishi was all about control and, while he held you on the bed, you practiced your own form of control to not show him how his roaming eyes affected you. The way they darkened - darker than shadows - as his gaze drank in every inch of your body he revealed.

You fought to keep your breathing even; your face expressionless. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of showing him a hint, one fucking ounce of emotion, besides hatred. A hatred you were struggling to hold onto as he drew his fingertips to trace across your collarbone, dipping down between your breasts.

It was such an intimate touch. One Enishi didn't deserve to give. In that one touch, it held the exploration of a lover, but a tenderness you hadn’t expected. Not from a man like him. It made your brain struggle against what it was shown, what he’d done, and the softness of his next touch.

You’d remained unmoving through so much. You didn’t struggle when he knocked your hands away or fight him while he removed your dress from your shoulders, or wrapped his fingers around your neck like his long fingers were meant to grasp it. Through all of this, you were a good girl and didn't move.

Not until he touched you so sweetly, and his eyes lost the hard edges of demand. The soft dimming of control exposed something else you weren’t ready to see.

You knew the minute Enishi felt your pulse speed up. The sneer at the thought of winning wore itself plainly on his face, and whatever softness his previous touch had lulled inside your consciousness quickly evaporated.

All your earlier rage sparked fresh and all attempts to obey were wiped away. Without thinking, your hand lashed out and you felt your palm connect with his cheek. The sound of flesh meeting flesh fell heavy in the room. Enishi’s face didn’t even move from the impact, but before your hand was able to drop, you found your wrist caught tight in his hand.

His grip tightened - tighter, tighter - until blackness cropped in your vision. You thought this was it. This would be the moment he finally discards you, possibly kills you, like you’d witnessed him do so many times to so many others - your father - in the few days you’d been held prisoner in his room.

You welcomed the idea of oblivion. No longer being a prisoner to uncomfortable change - a prisoner to thoughts of a man who held you captive - and maybe Enishi could feel it too. Or maybe he just meant to get you close to the edge before he brought you back with your lungs greedily sucking in air through a cough.

Enishi’s hold on your neck remained, but the wrist he’d held captive was gone. His free hand was back to violently tugging, pulling, what remained of your skirts. The rich baritone of his voice carried as if he was yelling. His words deepened and rose in tone while he jerked on the last bit of your skirt until you heard the tearing of cloth crack like thunder.

You were jarred by the burst of cold that hit you. Then came the shock of realizing he’d completely removed your entire dress and your underclothes. You were naked before him, and Enishi hungrily drank every inch of your exposed skin.

You attempted to cover yourself. A choked sound of shock made its way past your lips as your legs tried to rise up off the mattress, your hands back to guarding your chest. Again, Enishi shoved them away. His hand gripping behind your knee to pull you closer to the edge of the bed.

This time Enishi slotted himself between your legs and a gasp you refused to name etched itself into your throat.

Unlike the first time, there was no cloth, no dress, to keep away the feeling of his cock as it pressed against your folds. Nothing to keep him from seeing your arousal - the way your body shamelessly hungered for him. His eyes were transfixed on your cunt and the way it coated his hardening cock.

You watched his cock swell and grow in length - thick, so impossibly thick - pressed against your cunt and inches away from your entrance. For a brief moment, you were almost compelled to beg, to plead and cry for him to destroy you. Your mind selfishly followed the desire that flooded your body. A need so potent to know what it felt like for your cunt to stretch around him, and to feel the delicious searing pain as he pushed deeper and deeper until you threatened to burst.

You knew the raw power Enishi wielded. You’d witnessed it dozens of times whether it was in the form of violence or sex. He was always in control and maybe that’s why you didn’t want to be just another tally added to the list. A conquest he’d have the satisfaction of claiming.

He spoke again. While you couldn’t understand his words, what it was he truly meant, the fire in his eyes told you plainly: you were his.

You belonged to Enishi, and he would not be denied what he claimed as his.

You waited to feel the tip of his cock press at your entrance, and it left the air in your lungs suspended in anticipation. Your eyes took in the rise and fall of his own chest and realized for the first time it wasn’t steady. He was breathing fast as his eyes roamed over your body and you realized, for the first time, maybe he wasn’t as in control as he wanted to be.

In a dizzying moment, you went from being pinned back against the bed, embarrassingly ready to let him fuck you, to feeling the absence of his demanding touch. Enishi released the hold he kept on your neck and moved away from the bed. The sound of his feet padding across the floor was enough to tell you his presence was still here.

You wanted to get up but you knew what was coming. The sound of the chain rattling in the distance was a reminder of the nightly routine you’d fallen into since you’d arrived at the compound. Before Enishi went to sleep he always made sure you were secured to one of the marble pillars that lined the grandeur of his bedroom. You waited for him to come back, to grab you by your arm and haul you off the bed.

Except this time that’s not what happened.

Enishi grabbed you by your arm but only to force you up towards the headboard. Once he had you where he wanted, he released his hold on you and moved to wrap the chain around your right ankle and locked the lock into place. You watched, dumbfounded, as he wrapped the other end of the chain to the wooden leg of the bed frame.

You couldn’t ask him what he was doing or why he was doing it. What it was that suddenly made him decide to chain you closer, closer to him, in his room, and what that meant for you. All you could afford to do was guess his intentions, his next steps, by the body language he rarely showed outside of rage. You barely knew Japanese and it’d become painfully apparent Enishi spoke both Japanese and Chinese. Neither one of them you understood.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the mattress tipping as his weight distributed on the bed. Your body swayed gently as if pushed by a wave until he settled back into the sheets. He barely covered himself in the soft goose-down comforter, the deep v of his hips devilishly exposed, with his head resting against his arm with those endlessly dark eyes trained solely on you.

How did you know he was looking at you when you refused to acknowledge him? Your spine was brutally straight and unyielding to lie back against the soft cradle the bed provided. The answer was simple. When Enishi’s eyes were on you, it sent an electric current of want and fear - a maddening mixture - to flare across your skin.

Just like now.

He spoke to you. His words ghosted over your exposed skin like an intimate caress that seized you as violently by the throat as his hand had earlier. His words were drenched in a drowsy alto that only seemed to grow deeper the longer he spoke. Enishi was so close to sleep and yet…

Your body lurched forward at the callous touch of his fingers drifting over your hip. It earned the sound of a deep chuckle that burrowed itself inside the marrow of your bones and took ownership.

——

At some point in the refusal you’d strongly held on to not falling asleep beside him, you’d done exactly that. You were woken up by one of the concubine’s, Keiko, you believed was her name, raised up in caution. She was Enishi’s favorite concubine from the few days you’d been here. She never protested to anything he did to her or objected to what he asked. Not that you would know what he said, because you couldn’t understand.

And here she was kneeling beside the bed. A bed that was now empty of Enishi’s presence - the whole room empty of it - with just Keiko and you being the only souls inside. You were suddenly very aware that you were still very much naked. Keiko didn’t appear to be the least bit fazed and offered you a small smile to try and ease your panic.

“The master - he asked me to prepare a bath for you.”

It surprised you how well she spoke your native tongue. The surprise displayed on your face no doubt was the reason a smile spread across her face. Warm and bright enough to make you forget for a split second where you were. Who she was.

“Would you like a warm bath?”

Did she even have to ask? You couldn’t answer her right away. A sharp nod of your head was the only response you were able to give as your mind mulled over her words.

Master.

It’s what she’d called him without hesitation and with no hint of disdain tinging her words. A part of you wondered if she enjoyed calling him that - if she called him that while he buried himself to the hilt inside her.

A flash of jealousy flared in your chest as you followed her to the washroom. As quickly as it rose up, you were just as quick to squash it. Bury it down, down, down inside the graveyard of your mind and refuse to allow yourself to dig it back up.

Keiko pushed open the washroom door and, when you stepped inside behind her, found a Japanese soaking tub full of warm water.

A bath. A real honest-to-goodness bath.

It’d been so long since your skin was scrubbed clean. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to just step right inside the steaming water or if you would need to wait for Keiko’s instructions. In the end, you focused on the latter and when she gave you another soft smile, her hand gesturing towards the tub, you didn’t hesitate to sink beneath the water.

When you surfaced from the water a sigh made its way from deep in your chest. A bath couldn’t soothe everything, but it was enough to help make you feel human again. You were leaning against the side of the tub, your head back and eyes closed, enjoying the warmth of the water, when soft fingers began to massage your scalp.

Your body involuntarily jerked away and you spun to see who touched you. It felt silly. You knew it was Keiko. It could only be Keiko and yet, you couldn’t swallow past the dread that lodged itself inside your throat. Your own heart pounded like a caged beast against your ribs.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I only want to help wash your hair.”

Keiko’s hands were where you’d left them: splayed open with the suds of soap and the scent of bergamot lifting up to greet you. She didn’t push you to return to her. She waited patiently for the panic to subside before she gently motioned for you to return.

“Can I wash your hair for you?”

“Yes. Yes.”

It’d been so long since you've used your voice, aside from yesterday when Enishi had torn curses and moans from you. A memory that sent heat rising to your cheeks that you quickly tried to hide by giving your back to Keiko, offering up your head for her to finish what she started.

After you were properly bathed, and your skin and hair were drying with scent of oils, you expected to be brought a kimono. If not a kimono at least a robe. So, when Keiko instructed you to sit back on the bed after she’d combed your hair, with no clothing in hand, the first real sting of panic began to bloom.

You watched her while she moved around the room. Her hands tidied up areas and her eyes carefully trained on her task at hand. Never on you.

You knew better than to ask her if you could have any clothing items. You were sure part of the instructions Enishi gave her also dictated what you could be given after you were made clean, which was nothing. Enishi was going to make you wait for him with no way to hide your body.

A wave of blinding rage overtook you in that moment. The realization that you weren’t even being given the dignity of having clothes, a robe, or a fucking towel, to cover yourself with made you want to scream. You wanted to tear him apart. Instead, you scooted back farther on the bed, your legs working closer together with your balled-up hands in your lap and your arms desperately trying to cover your breasts.

You were completely lost in your thoughts. So lost, you hadn’t even realized when Keiko departed the room. You didn’t realize you were alone until the sound of the door opening and closing brought you out of your thoughts and back to the present.

It was Enishi and Keiko who’d walked back inside the room. Keiko was closing the bedroom door behind her while Enishi walked further inside. His hands were tucked inside the large open sleeves of the amber and cerulean Haori draped over his body that matched the hakama pants he wore. The material looked finally woven - silken - and expensive. The hakama was cinched tight on his powerful waist and against a thick black vest material. A pair of small glasses adorned his face and sat low on the edge of his nose.

It felt surreal seeing him dressed. You’d grown so accustomed to his naked frame moving with intensity, power, around the room - commanding to be witnessed. The clothes he wore now did little to dim that unspoken demand.

He made his way over to the desk in the corner of the room. Not one ounce of his body showed any sign of acknowledging your presence. He simply pulled his hands free from inside his Haori and placed a scroll, rolled tight and sealed with black string, inside a glass jar.

A part of you was beginning to worry. The whiplash of going from panic, rage, and now fear made you dizzy, but you needed to focus. Focusing meant you realized not even Keiko acknowledged your existence. It felt silly to be worried about the lack of a look because shouldn’t you want to be invisible? To go unnoticed?

The sound of rustling brought you back from your thoughts. A flash of amber drew your eyes back to Enishi who removed his Haori and left it dangling over the back of a chair. No longer were his eyes intent on his scroll, his desk, or anything else. The discontent you felt at being ignored was now answered with the full attention of his gaze.

You immediately dropped your gaze from watching him make his way towards you. The sound of his glasses being placed on his small table made your hands squeeze tighter together. Your knees press closer. Enishi was almost to you and the only thing your brain could think to do was two options: run or hide.

Enishi must have known because his pace quickened and, within a few more steps, he was in front of you. His fingers pressing underneath your chin and forcing it up to bring your gaze to meet his.

You didn’t know if it was night or day. If you would ever see the outside of this room again. If you’d leave this compound wrapped in cloth or on your own two feet. If one day you’d get to remember what it felt like to be free. The only thing you did know for certain was the look in Enishi’s eyes was a warning of what was to come.

He kept a tight grip on your chin, refusing to give an inch, as he spoke. His Japanese was commanding, harsh, and left no room to be disobeyed. Enishi words weren’t directed at you, you realized, but to Keiko who was still in the room. You couldn’t see her any longer. Enishi didn’t allow you to look at anyone - anything - that wasn’t him, but you could hear the shuffling of her feet. The soft sound of her kimono as it rustled until she came to a stop.

“Master has instructed that, starting tomorrow, I will tutor you in Japanese.”

Why?

Why did it matter if you could speak Japanese or understand him? It wasn’t like you were brimming with conversations that could be had about art or philosophy. Did he think you would learn and you’d both what? What did Enishi want from you?

“To be able to speak without me present.”

Keiko’s words jolted you out of your thoughts. Had the question left your mouth without you being aware of it? It must have happened because Keiko answered.

He spoke again and released the hold he kept on your chin. You were about to search for where Keiko stood when you felt Enishi’s hands dip between the mattress and your legs. You didn’t have time to think, to try and comprehend what was about to happen. One minute you were sitting upright on the bed fighting for modesty and the next your back was against the sheets.

It was the surprise of it that trapped your next breath in your lungs. It quickly escaped in a yelp of surprise when his hands pulled you closer to the edge of the bed again. Your hands lashed out to find purchase in the sheets, to pull you away, but you knew it was pointless. It wasn’t until Enishi had your ass hanging halfway off the bed that he stopped pulling and used both hands to spread your legs wide.

The suddenness of having your cunt exposed to the room - to him - caused a scream to tear free from your throat. Your hands scrambled to peel his hands away from your thighs. The hands that kept your legs pried open under his watchful gaze. The thunderous sound of his words ricocheted off the stone walls and, for a split second, the fear from his voice, the fury behind it, left your body still. Keiko was quick to tell you what he said.

“He said behave or he’ll tie them open.”

You watched him as she spoke. Enishi’s eyes were no longer dark with desire but were replaced by something fiercer, darker. One that requires obedience and would accept nothing less. You knew he meant it. The words he spoke and forced Keiko to share in warning. If you didn’t give him this, give him your body freely without a fight, he would punish you for it.

You fought to relax your legs in his grip and to hide your shame you tried to turn away from him. To hide yourself back inside the sheets once more.

You should’ve remembered your lesson from yesterday.

The minute you went to turn away, close your eyes, Enishi’s fingers dug into your cheeks and brought you back to face him. Another angry shout. You didn’t need Keiko to tell you what he meant - what he wanted.

When Enishi was sure you wouldn’t try it again, that your eyes were focused where they needed to be - on him - he drew his hand away from your face. His fingers lazily traced a path along the curve of your jaw, a thumb under your lips, and down to the hollow of your throat. As he etched out a path along your body his eyes followed with each movement of his fingers causing his pupils to grow wider, ever wider, with lust until his entire iris disappeared.

A shaky breath rattled through your bones. A sound that only seemed to excite him more. His fingers moved between your breasts and his eyes caught sight of the perfect imprint he’d left of his teeth in the soft skin. The pad of his index finger lazily swam up to trace along the bruising flesh. His next words registered so low, almost non-existent, you weren’t even sure if he’d spoken. It wasn’t until Keiko spoke his next question that you knew he had.

“The Master - he wants to know if you’re married. If you’ve…been with any men.”

What should you say? You weren’t a virgin. You knew the desire and wants of men. How a woman’s body could turn them into helpless fools when they confused a woman’s sex for love. You were engaged to be married and you and your fiancée hadn’t waited for your wedding night.

You could vaguely recall your fiancée’s touch. The way you felt. It wasn’t anything like the way Enishi made you feel. A hard truth that you loathe to admit even to yourself, but a truth nonetheless. You’d both been fumbling in the dark and while your fiancée had come, you hadn’t experienced a real orgasm until Enishi had been knuckle deep inside your cunt.

You refused to tell him this.

If you told him you’d had plenty of lovers would he throw you out? Discard you?

Your train of thought came to a screeching halt when two of his fingers moved through your folds to scissor your clit. You sucked in a shuddering breath. Your hips dipped down against the bed as your back arched up. You tried to keep your moan housed inside your body but Enishi began to massage the pads of his fingers against your swollen clit, driving a cry of pleasure to tear free from you. Your legs involuntarily clamped shut around his arm and Enishi was quick to punish you. His free hand smacking down on your thigh that only coupled with the pleasure of the next flick of his fingers.

The hard smack against your thigh was enough to release his arm, and Enishi dropped to his knees between your thighs. You wanted to ask what he was doing - demand to know. All thoughts were silenced as he gave one last stroke of his fingers before he pushed both between your folds.

The minute you felt the delicious pressure of his fingers another moan crawled its way up your throat. It quickly turned into a scream at the feeling of Enishi’s teeth biting down into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. Pain and pleasure melded together until you weren’t sure if the sparks behind your eyes was from the curve of his fingers inside your cunt or the way your nerves came to life under the pressure of his teeth.

He pulled away just enough - his voice guttural - to ask his question again. Again Keiko repeated it and with the next curve of Enishi’s fingers, curving, curving up, up, you felt yourself close to breaking. You were about to give him the answer that he craved, coaxed, out of your body. You would’ve told him right then and there as his thumb massaged your clit, fingers sliding in and out of you, when he growled his next words in English.

“Answer. Me.”

It wasn’t perfect, but those two words didn’t have to be for them to make the impact they did.

“I was engaged.” You huffed out. “I was going to be married.”

You couldn’t tell if Keiko relayed your answer to him. You weren’t sure of anything except the coil that was tightening low in your belly, tighter and tighter. A mewling sound filled the room and was growing in octaves. It took you a moment to realize it was you making the sound, but it was the only moment of clarity you had before you felt something unexpected.

Enishi’s fingers removed themselves from your cunt with a squelch. Before you had time to mourn the loss of him, his mouth latched over your mound. His tongue mapping out a figure 8 between your folds.

Your chest collapsed in a moan that violently rippled through your body. Your legs shook and you tried to find purchase, to hold onto something while the waves of pleasure rolled through your body. Another roll of his tongue and the feel of his lips gently suckling at your clit sent your body spiraling. Your hands fisting deep to the roots of his hair - pulling, pulling, and it didn’t feel enough.

Another breathless moan shuddered through your body. What Enishi was doing felt salacious - under heard of. Your mind raced to remember if any of your girlfriends shared stories of their suiters, fiancées, ever latching their mouths to their cunts. Their tongue greedily lavished relentless strokes - the way Enishi did now - as your body trembled in his palms. Your hands fisting his hair harder at the root.

You were sure Enishi would let go. Punish you for touching him this way. His hands only dug further under the mattress and took hold of your hips, to bring your cunt closer to his mouth. It allowed his tongue to fuck into you; three solid thrusts before he stopped.

Keiko was still in the room. You knew she was. She had to be. Enishi hadn’t dismissed her and you knew they wouldn’t just take it upon themselves to just leave without being given the order. The thought alone should’ve been enough to drive the cloud of desire from your mind but it wasn’t. A sick thrill of the thought that for once they were watching Enishi take pleasure in you only peaked your arousal.

The coil that’d been tightening low in your lower abdomen grew and grew. Your fingers dug tighter in his hair and you did something that, if you’d been in your right mind, you’d have felt the heat of shame on your cheeks.

You didn’t have time for shame right now.

Your hips moved up to meet the next thrust of his tongue. Eager and wanton in chasing your own release. You wanted to come on his tongue. To coat those pretty lips in the memory of how you tasted long after he’d finished with you. It was in the next flick of his tongue that sent you barreling over the edge.

You thought you were screaming the way your mouth tore open, but no sound came out. It was shuddering breaths that shook free from your chest. You were well aware Enishi was still between your thighs. His tongue hungrily lapping up every last drop your orgasm offered until a quiver of a whimper came from your lips. Your hands that had fisted in his hair to keep him there were now trying to push him away. Your clit overstimulated and sensitive to the touch.

Oh, so deliciously sensitive.

Enishi pried his mouth from your cunt and you wanted to take a moment of pride at the sight of your arousal around his mouth. His chin. You watched as he worked the metal latches on his vest off one-by-one until it dropped to the floor. He worked his way out of the hakama and let it fall at his feet.

His cock sprang free from the fabric aching and hard. You watched, wanton and eager, as Enishi took his cock in his hand and stroked it. He was already hard, painfully hard, so you knew it was meant for you to watch. So, you watched a pearl of precum leak from his tip. You watched his thumb gently smear it like lubricant before he moved to the edge of the bed. With his hands back under your hips, Enishi aligned his tip with your entrance and in one hard thrust was inside you.

Your walls gripped him tightly as Enishi pushed his way into you. You knew he felt it too - the tightness, the resistance that your cunt offered. You could feel it in the way his hips stuttered and the sharp exhale that escaped him once he was fully sheathed inside of you.

You didn’t have time to prepare for the stretch - the searing delicious, oh so, so, delicious pain - that came as your cunt tried to accommodate his thickness. You remember seeing him. You remembered imagining what it would feel like to have him take you and to feel him break you and make you anew. With the next role of his hips you felt your lips part to give praise just as he bottomed out.

Your fiancée didn’t feel like this. Your fiancée hadn’t fucked like this.

Enishi moved your hips further off the bed. His hands pulling you up at an angle that on the next thrust created stars to spark behind your eyes. He pulled your thighs up towards his hips and somehow it only deepened the next. Deeper, deeper, until you threatened to hollow out. The wet sounds of your bodies meeting over and over began to fill the room and you felt yourself becoming lost.

With each unrelenting brutal thrust of his hips, Enishi claimed more and more of you. You struggled to remember why that was a bad thing. How could it be so bad when he made you feel so good?

You were trying to remind yourself of what he’d done - who he was, but with his face inches from yours, your mind went blank. You didn’t know why your hands cupped his face or your thumb touched the small bell of his earring. Enishi was so close, so vulnerable, that for a split second you believed if you brought him down to kiss you, his mouth would’ve eagerly met yours.

In all the times you’d watched him fuck his concubine’s - women like Keiko - you never witnessed him sharing a kiss with any. He used their bodies relentlessly. He broke them and whittled them down to puddles of sweat and come. Never did he kiss them. Never was he truly intimate with any of them.

Did he want to know the intimacy of your mouth? To claim you fully in a way he hadn’t claimed any other?

It was a question that remained unanswered because with the next brutal thrust of his hips your world exploded. Your nails found a home in the groove of his back and dug in as your orgasm overtook you. It felt endless as his cock continued to stroke your walls until you felt his hips give one last thrust and, seconds later, felt his spend spill fill you.

For a brief moment, you should’ve been worried but you couldn’t think past your racing heart and aching body.

The afterglow of the moment quickly vanished and the two of you were left a sweaty, heaving mess. You were painfully aware how close you both were - foreheads almost completely touching - and it made you wonder, if only for a moment, if anything changed. Your hand ached to reach out and push the sweaty strands of hair out of his face.

Your chest was tight with a need to bridge the few inches between you. Enishi hadn’t shook away your hands that were still cupping his face. There was no denying in such a small confined space that his eyes were lingering on your mouth.

Did something change?

You received your answer a moment later when Enishi violently tore himself from you leaving you raw and aching alone on the bed. You were vaguely aware of him barking orders at someone - most likely Keiko - as his padded feet stormed off to the bathroom. The door slamming shut behind him.

___________

As always, thank you so much for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

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Tag list: @ellisaworld @missroro @ram716 @misfits1a

#Violent Delights #enishi yukishiro #enishi yukishiro x reader #enishi yukishiro x you #enishi x reader #enishi x you #enishi yukishiro fanfiction #enishi yukishiro smut #rurouni kenshin #rurouni kenshin the final #mackenyu #mackenyu characters #99% smut and 1% filth

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dilutedconfusion · 2 days

Text

Lost Star

Eustass Kid x F!Reader (Part 2) Real World AU

Sexy smexy horrible gut wrenching angst.

Summary: You and Kid get to have a bittersweet phone call about why you haven’t been seeing much of him lately. Kid knows why and its eating at him from the inside out. Yet you’re still lost in a forest during winter, drunk off your ass. Kids a liar and a lover. You’re a lover and loser. Something bad is going bad is going to happen. But for now lets read about Kid crying <3

Warnings: None???

Word Count: 3.6k

Part 1 Part 2

Tags: @aynfp @shamblespirate @likeeliterallywtf @tulipps-maehem @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

Between the silence and the sound of Kids revved up car you stuffed your body inside yourself. Weaving your bone-cold arms textured with goosebumps through the sleeves of your jacket to meet your center. You shoved your head below the collar as well, effectively using the warmth of your heart guided into your breasts to make a somewhat efficient self-heating system. Putting the call on speaker mode and getting at least one percent warmer.

“I feel like a turtle…” You mumbled softly, a growling pain rousing your stomach. A hearty burp of old tequila shots bubbling in your throat.

Kid had gone awkwardly silent. He told you he would never hang up in your time of need but as you listened to him shove his gear into drive, the loud echoing of the underground parking lot whirring endlessly, you couldn’t help but feel more alone than ever.

It doesn’t help that I’m in a forest alone.

“Kid? Did you hear me? I said I feel like a turtle.” You repeated, hoping and praying to hear his voice again. You couldn’t get enough of it right now. If he wanted to recite the entire dictionary you would’ve let him. As long as you got to listen to his rasp deep voice drift you back into comfort.

Or drift me back to anywhere safe really…but I’d prefer to be safe with him.

“I heard ya. It was stupid so I didn’t respond.” You heard the soft click of his tongue just trying to sound annoyed like he always did. Like you were nothing but a bother and he didn’t know why he was friends with you in the first place. “I should be getting compensation for dealing with your ass I swear to god.”

He shifted his phone on its stand sitting idly on the dash. The profile picture of you flipping off the camera followed by the words “Little Shit” as your profile name stared back at him. His eyes unconsciously gliding to look at it despite the road ahead. Making him wish he hadn’t used that picture for your profile in the first place.

When I see her she isn’t going to look like that. Probably half frozen and crying if I take too long.

His annoyance wasn’t as pungent as it usually was. You could hear how he softly scratched his hair on the other end. Leading you to believe he wasn’t being serious because he never made fun of you to hurt you. But you couldn’t help but frown regardless.

“Don’t say that.” Your voice was soft and breathy. Floating up towards Kid in his truck. The roads were quiet and empty late at night. Kid lived in a big city but he was driving towards the rural south. He just had to hop onto the freeway, the warm streetlights hung like stars guiding him. Pressing on the gas a bit more fervently than the authorities would like. His truck roaring in response.

“Don’t be a baby. I’m serious Y/N I’m not letting you do something like this again. I’ll fucking lock you in your own house. Handcuff you to the goddamn radiator if I have to.” What once was worry was now turning into frustration. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe that you of all people had done something as stupid as this.

Y/N’s lost in a forest drunk. Y/N’s lost in a forest drunk at night.

A little part of him wanted to scream. Wanted you to stop acting drunk even if you were and take this seriously for just a moment. He was worried and it felt like you couldn’t care less about your safety.

“Kid don’t say that. I don’t need you to baby me. You’ve never babied me before. I just…fucked up this time.” You chewed over your dry and chapped lips. The bright light of your screen fills up the small cloth cave you reside in. Trying desperately not to pay attention to the forest sounds around you along with the coldness of your ass against the ground.

Kid could nearly feel the guilt in your voice. Like the sharp edge of a knife delicately lacing at your own throat. Willing to cut out the wound of a problem that was you. It was disgusting. Kid didn’t want to hear it, but he couldn’t handle it. Not right now.

“Oh, you fucked up but so did every single one of those so-called friends at that party. If I ever catch you hanging around those small dick and brained sons of bitches again I’m fucking popping their eyes out.” His thick fingers clenched around the steering wheel a bit tighter. Amber eyes flickering into his mirrors to see nothing but the road and the lights of buildings behind him.

He felt twitchy. Like one jerk of the hand or one sound too loud could send him overboard. But the problem was he didn’t know what he would fall into if he did go overboard.

She went to a goddamn party alone. She put herself in danger. Why...why the hell would she do that?

“Their eyeballs? Eww, that's icky Kid. I only knew 3 people there anyway and it's not like I asked them to baby me. They didn’t expect it.” The sudden yet expectant sound of your voice threw Kid’s mind out of its spiral. Your voice sounded stupid. As if it was pitched up too high and taking a bit too long to find the right words. He listened to the slight flutter of your breath. The chatter indicating the sudden shaking of your spine.

She’s cold. Kid’s steering wheel groaned and squeaked in response. Nearly snapping it in half as he made a wide turn onto the freeway entrance ramp. “Well I didn’t expect to have to go on a rescue mission tonight but here we are.” He let out a huff of air, checking his mirrors with narrowed eyes before merging on.

Not another car in sight as he shifted into 5th gear, bringing his car up to a rolling 90 as quick as he intended to. “If I was there I would’ve watched ya. Keep you on a 10-foot leash just to make sure you and you’re dumbass don’t get hurt.”

“You wanna leash me? That’s kinda kinky Kid.”

Kids eyes instantly rolled so hard he could have sprained something. “Oh fucking hell be quiet.” He heard your small little giggle. That quick shake in your chest was so warm it made his permanent frown disappear for only a moment. “I can see your shit-eating grin from here asshole.” Another rouse of your laughter came from the other end of the call. That hard exterior of his cracking under the pressure of that stupid laugh again for the millionth time.

Maybe she’s okay. She’s cracking jokes but…she always does that when she’s down.

You wiped the small tears out of the corners of your eyes. Pressing your legs closer to your chest as quick burst of wind breezed past you. “So basically what you’re saying is you wish you would’ve come to this party with me? That woulda been swell. I’ve missed you a lot lately. They even played some of our songs.” You recalled the night with a mix of sullen worry and unbridled passion. Remembering how you danced horribly only to catch yourself looking around for a man who wasn’t even there. A vision of him stuck in your peripheral vision like a dreamy visage.

Kid took a moment to respond. Opening his mouth just to close it again before his eyes twitched from the weird feeling growing in his chest. “I don’t have time to be messing around with a bunch of people I don’t care about and neither do you. You’re not a fucking party animal Y/N. I’ve seen your shy ass freeze up anytime some rando tries to flirt with ya.”

Though your voice was sweet, Kids was harsh. There was nothing he could do but spit out everything as if it tasted horrible. She needs to cut this shit out. One more ‘I missed you’ and I'm going to pop a blood vessel.

“Kid, I keep telling you that they weren’t flirting. I don’t know what people think they're doing but it ain’t flirting. Or at least it doesn’t feel like it.” A small wave of relief fell over him when you chose to talk about the flirting thing. A valid misdirection from the obvious elephant in the room.

“It doesn’t feel like it because you double-guess everything people say to you. I’m supposed to be the ‘emotionally unperceptive wall of a man’ or whatever you call me. Not you.”

You rolled your eyes at that. Chewing your lips with a smile and staring at his contact information on your screen. Nothing but a tulip emoji as his name and a picture of him dead asleep with a dick drawn on his face.

“Well, don't you know me so well?” Kid could basically see the sassy tilt of your head as you said that. Staring at him with those vivacious eyes that made his stomach turn into knots.

“I do.” He said simply, nodding his head and puffing out his chest for no one to see. It was instinctual at this point. Putting on a show of confidence for you just to laugh and make fun of him.

“Which sorta makes me think you’re not so unperceptive huh?”

Kid backed off on his confidence show almost immediately. Swallowing hard he stared at the road ahead of him. What once was 4 lanes of a highway became 2. Giving him a sign that he was getting closer to you. “Well sorry I know my friend so well. I’ll make sure to forget everything you say to me like I used to.”

His own words nearly soccer-punched him in the gut. Remembering how he was when he first met you. You were just some girl he had to sit next to during one of his general classes in college. He barely even remembered your name no matter how many times you talked to him. He’d roll his eyes and stare off into space. You’re string of words seemingly endless no matter how much he pushed you away. Then after being separated by schedules, he ended up walking in on you working the register at his favorite music shop. Lined with records and CDs he found himself going back to that shop for more than just good music.

“You really were such an ass.” Your voice was a lot quieter as you spoke. A semi-unconscious haze of nostalgia bubbling around in your head. Kid knew what he did was wrong. In fact, he went home after finally having a genuine conversation with you to cuss himself out in the mirror. He had never told you that. How much he regretted not having you in his life a lot earlier than he did.

But Kid didn’t tell you a lot of things.

Like the dangerous extent of the illegal scams he’d run at his mechanic shop. Or the sleepless nights he’d get worried about everything and sometimes even you.

Kid wasn’t a mirror. He wasn’t reflecting exactly what he was like he should be. Instead, he was distorted. His lack of arm and scars not from a bad car accident but the result of all those shoot-outs and fights he’d been in. His guns and knives littered all over his body yet hidden so he didn’t scare you. His hands and chest covered in warm blood just to be washed off until his skin burned before you’d come and see him. His absence in that mirror, in your life, a sign that maybe he didn’t care and never did. But again, Kid knew if he was anything he was definitely a liar.

“I know and I already apologized.”

Yet that’ll never be good enough. Kid could feel his jaw tightening. His head cursed to be heavy with guilt as it hung on his shoulders.

“Well, I still remember you ignoring me. What happened was a strike of luck anyway. Gosh, I nearly hid in the back when you first walked into my job because I didn’t want to get friend-blocked again.” You were happy as you said that thankfully. If you could see his face you wouldn’t have been.

Well, I’m glad you didn’t give up on me but maybe that's just me being selfish. Kid couldn’t manage to say that out loud. Leaving you hanging on your words as you listened to him silently drive. It felt awkward as if you had said something wrong. Something to piss him off. Your mind scattering and eyes flickering to find something else to talk about. Something to keep him from ignoring you like he used to.

“Ya know my phone background is of us at that concert from last year. The one where I did your makeup all cool.” You mumbled softly, popping your head out of your jacket to check on your surroundings. You pressed the small button on the side of your phone. Your lock screen popping up with a picture of you and Kid side by side in a sea of people. The photo slightly blurry from the two of you jumping up and down while the stage of performers stood in the back.

“I remember that,” Kid mumbled his voice a bit more horse than before. He could nearly see the red lights, dark eyeshadow, and big grins of that night. But what was once sweet now felt distinctly bitter.

“I swear if you hadn’t been there I would’ve gotten trampled in that pit. I’m not small by any means but you give me the scary dog privileges I need.” You let out a chuckle that nearly tore at Kid's heart. His chest getting tighter and his throat dry.

Kid. This is not the time. Stop thinking about it and just drive. He had no idea why this was affecting him so badly. He’s been living with the idea that he needed to let you go for months. It haunted him any time you managed to creep up into his mind. But he never once felt like this.

I'm tired. It’s late. She’s out there and alone. I'm just being delusional.

“I’m not your fucking guard dog.” Was all he could say or maybe that was all he was good at. Complaining whenever you said stupid shit instead of saying what was really on his mind.

“Oh hell yeah you are. That and my best friend. We drank and ate like 2 big ass pizzas together on your couch. Killer nearly knocked us upside the head cause we wouldn’t go to sleep. You kept making me laugh so hard my fucking ribs hurt. Plus I swear I was shitting nothing but grease for like 2 days after that.” You let out a weak laugh, head and heart swirling in a warm sweet remembrance.

Kid could envision that night as if it was happening now. You in those loose pants and a tank top. Hair messy from all the head banging. You sat beside him on the couch while you both played video games until the sun came up. The colorful glow of the TV on your skin now shiny from washing off all your makeup. The way you always managed to smile when you looked at him.

I’m going crazy.

“Didn’t need to know that last part but yeah…it was nice. Maybe…we should do that again.” Kid couldn’t stop his mouth from saying something stupid. He couldn’t lie like he always did. It was all he was good for but now? Well, right now he was hoping you’d forget everything he’s saying.

The minute he said that you felt yourself light up. As if all that worry in your heart had disappeared within an instant. “Really? You actually wanna go to another concert with me? I basically had to beg you last time. Plus you know I...haven’t seen much of you lately.” You were downright cheery over the simple fact that he wanted to see you again. To see you at all.

I’m just hurting her. I can’t. I won’t.

“You...know I’ve been busy but y-yes I could maybe go to another concert with you. So quit making a big deal out of it.”

Goddamn it Kid what the hell?! I can’t go to a concert with her! Why the hell am I lying? He ground his teeth together. Trying to let out an exasperated yet silent sigh. His eyes slowly became foggy as he drove. Though he couldn’t tell if it was out of guilt or because you lit up the second he mentioned seeing you again.

Is she really...that desperate to see me?

“Well, I’m glad because I don’t think I could live without ya. I’ve been hanging out with a bunch of nobodies in your absence. But clearly I’ve gotten really reliant on torturing you with my presence. You’re like…my favorite person in the world after all.”

No. Kid inhaled sharply through his teeth. What once was foggy now became a pool of tears in his eyes. All the muscles in his broken chest contracted. Holding himself back from letting out a wry whimper of pain.

“Oh, you’ll f-find somebody.” Kid couldn’t help but stutter as he spoke. His voice surprisingly normal but his breath hitching uncontrollably. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand as he shook it off. Hoping and praying you were too drunk to notice through the phone.

“But that somebody wouldn’t be you and I want to be with you.”

You sounded so innocent. So pure and unfiltered as you spoke. As if you meant that from the bottom of your heart. That honesty you held was something only you could do. Kid wanted to be mean. Kid wanted to give you a reason to hate him. But he never could.

He was terminally unsuccessful and it was killing him on the inside. So once again silence was in only answer.

“Kid...when you get here will you give me a big hug? I’m shivering and I don’t know what to do about it.” You broke through that silence again. Wondering why he seemed to hate it when you praised him.

Does he…really hate it that I care about him so much? You sniffled softly through your nose. A creeping wetness in your eyes from either the breeze or something much more delicate. Your soft eyes fluttering between the forest and the low light of your phone. You hadn’t necessarily noticed the pain Kid was in. Far too worried about the silence that he kept creating between you too. As if you were annoying him once again.

Does he…hate me?

Kid could tell that he upset you. All that joy you had was seemingly sucked right out of you. His crying stalled into just a complete exhaustion. Mind wandering to anywhere else but here. “Do...Do some jumping jacks or whatever I don’t know. I’m not going to be there until a bit so just…” He trailed off, checking the time on his dash. It was taking him a bit longer than he thought to get there. No matter how fast he went it didn’t seem fast enough. His eyes caught the passing by 45 mph signs in his headlamps. But of course, he wasn’t going to follow it.

If I hit a deer, I hit a deer. If I get pulled over, I get pulled over. But I’m not stopping till I get to her. That thought pushed him forward, forcing himself to focus on something else other than the pain in his heart.

“But if I do jumping jacks I might barf. You won’t hug me if I smell like barf. I need to be in peak hugging condition.” Your voice came out in a whiny complaint. Your limbs becoming noticeably more and more numb. The huddling not doing much as the wind started to pick up until it howled ominously. You closed your eyes softly for a moment, feeling a bout of sleepiness on you. A wet dampness seeped into your clothes as you felt a bone-rattling chill crawl inside your chest.

“I’ll still fucking hug you. I’ll probably have to carry your clumsy ass back to the car anyways. So if you’re going to barf do it before I get there.” Kids annoyance was only a mask for his worry. He could tell you were getting tired. He could tell he didn’t have much time left.

What…what happens if I don’t make it in time? It was cold. No snow on the ground but winter regardless. A warmer day followed by a crippling cold night.

“What if I get barf in my hair though? I need someone to hold it up.”

A vision of you shivering with blue-tinted skin, chapped lips stinging from the pile of barf next to you, and tears slipping past your eyes came to Kid's mind. He felt his heart lunge so much he coughed spastically. Rubbing over the skin above his heart and lungs before he spoke.

“Y/N…just please don’t barf and please stay warm. I’ll be there soon.” His voice was weak but reassuring. A testament to his utter desperation and hope that this would end well.

He pressed down on the gas even harder. Pushing his car to its limits as he sped down the bumpy road.

Nothing was going to stop him from saving you. Not his stupid feelings and not any other distraction that might come his way.

A rather large drop of slushy water smacked into his windshield. Followed by a distant but bright strike of lightning splitting the sky.

His eyes flickered between the fading light and yet another splash of water hitting the glass. His blood going cold as the loud rumbling of thunder echoed in his ears.

Oh no.

A/N: Okay so I realize that the whole ‘Kid being a mechanic and also doing bad things and worrying about y/n’s safety’ has been done many times before. I love that shit and I eat it up everytime. But this is my take on it and though it’s only a small sliver of their story, I hope it holds just as many emotions. I think there is only going to be one or maybe 2 more chapters after this? It really depends on how much I write in the next go but either way SHIT IS HITTING THE FAN. It’s going to get worse and then downright despicable. I apologize in advance.

#one piece #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #one piece eustass #kid pirates #one piece x reader #x reader #eustass kid x reader #real world au #angst #angst be upon ye #alternate universe

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greetingfromthedead · 2 days

Text

Plantheat (Vash x F!Reader)

Plot: About once a year Vash's heat rolls around and while he is worried about the position it puts you in, you enjoy all the positions.

Series: None (oneshot)

Pairing: Vash x F!Reader

Raiting: NSFW!! 18+!! R!! Explicit!! Minors DNI

Tags: no use of y/n, plantheat, rutting, pwp, smut, light BDSM, mention of breeding kink, cum kink ig, hand job, blowjob, p in v sex, joyous use of a couch, copious amount of... cum, rough sex, aphrodisiac, some spanking, blushing Vash → rutting Vash

Word count: 4.3k

Author's Note: If you know me or my other work... no you don't. Idk where this came from and it has already been revised... it was worse.

Vash has been avoiding your gaze all morning, generally curling up in bed and pulling the blanket over his head. He insists he is feeling sick, but you suspect it's something quite a bit different. You go along with his behavior, only giving him a peck on the cheek from behind before you get out of bed again.

"I will bring you something to eat; surely that will make you feel better," you say from the door.

"Thank you, love, but I am not hungry. I'll just go take a shower." His muffled voice sounds from underneath layers of fabric. This answer confirms your suspicions, and you leave for the kitchen. There are only a few reasons your man would refuse food, and being sick isn't one of them.

You eat your late breakfast as you see him slinking out of the bedroom and into the bathroom next door. He held a bundle of towels, and the sweet smell following him leaves no room for doubt about what is really going on. You take a deep whiff and lick your lips, savoring the scent. You can finish your plate and clean up in the time it takes him to shower. He usually refuses to waste that much water, but the grunts you hear through the door reveal he is doing more than just washing.

You bite your lip, wanting to go in there, but stop yourself. Every time he tries to hide his heat, and each time he fails, yet seeing him struggle with it in the beginning always amuses you. So instead, you settle in on the couch, where you have a great view of the bathroom door. From the suppressed noises, you assume he jerked himself off at least twice, surely hoping to put off the effects of his time of the year. You try to think back to the last time, and it seems like it hasn't been quite a year yet, but you aren't complaining. Vash might think he puts you in an awful position with his unquenchable need that arises during this time, but actually you quite enjoy all the positions you end up finding yourself in.

He finally exits the room, a large fluffy towel around his waist and a smaller one on his shoulders, catching the water droplets from his hair. His scarred and augmented chest is on full display, and you admire his broad shoulders. His body is a marvel to you, and even on a regular day, a sight like this makes your mouth water.

"Hello, my eyes are up here!" Vash tries to crack a joke, and one of his hands goes to scratch the back of his neck.

"I know. But I am not looking at them right now," you tease. "Come closer and let me get a better look. Do a spin while you're at it."

You see a reddish hue flush over his chest and neck while he walks closer to you. You can tell he's a bit nervous, but he obliges and does a slow turn, giving you a full view.

"Happy? I should go back to bed." He sounds very awkward, as he avoids looking straight at you and instead gazes at the bedroom door. With him came the same sweet smell as before, and it makes you painfully aware of the yearning in your belly, a desire to spread your legs right away. The smell alone is enough to turn you on, but tasting him would spell the end of your little game.

"Later. You took such a long shower; surely you feel a bit better now." You keep a careful eye on him as you speak. "You're all wet still; I'm surprised you're not shivering. Come here; I'll help you."

You reach out and tug gently on the towel wrapped around his waist. He obliges, but the blush is deepening on his face. He glances down at you as you place your hand on his stomach, wiping some droplets onto your thumb before sticking it in your mouth. You suck your finger dry and see his eyes widening.

"What? You used a lot of water; let's not waste any more." You say with a grin and pull him closer to run your lips over his skin, kissing away the wetness. You can feel his heart racing under your touch, and the maddening smell intensifies.

"Darling, I should..." A shudder runs through his body. "Go to bed."

"Don't you like it?" You run your tongue over the curves and valleys of his muscles, your hands firmly holding on to his hips.

"Oh, you know I do. It's just that…" He sounds breathless, and the crimson of his cheeks is accompanied by a pleading look in his eyes.

"You want to fuck my brains out." You finish his sentence with a smirk and pull away a bit to see him better.

"Yes. Yes, I do," he admits with a guilty look in his eyes.

"Why don't you?" You look at his face as his expression shifts from one microscopic emotion to the next. You don't actually need him to answer; you know his reasoning from the years before.

"I don't want you to feel used. I don't want to hurt you. I know it can get… intense," he swallows, and you pull the edge of his towel until it falls down. "And what if you get pregnant?"

"What if? Come on, daddy, don't worry about that." You say with a sultry voice, "Go on, give it your best shot."

"Don't say that," he exhales, and you can tell it gets harder and harder for him to keep his composure.

"Why not?" you smirk as your one hand wraps around his half flaccid cock, feeling it twitch at your touch. You let it slide through your loose grip until you reach the tip, your thumb rubbing against the sensitive spot, smearing the large glob of pre-cum that had already formed there.

"I can't resist you." He studders slightly and reaches out his hand to touch your cheek. "I want you. I want you so badly."

You feel a rush of desire wash over you as his words send shivers down your spine. You lean in closer to kiss his dry shaft, your fingers twisting just below the tip, causing him to let out a soft moan of pleasure.

"I'm right here," you say, barely pulling your lips away from his skin as you look up. "Use me. Any way you want. Any way you need."

He bites his lips hard, the redness not leaving his face as he meets your gaze. He watches you trace your lips along his length as your hand starts to move back and forth. Sloppier kisses leave plenty of spit behind for your hand to glide smoothly. As he is fully erect, the tip leaks with his arousal, providing plenty of lubrication. His eyes never leave yours as you continue to stroke him, his breath quickening with each movement. You are careful not to taste any of him, pulling away and instead adding your other hand to the mix.

His body leans back in pleasure as you increase the intensity. He arches his back and lets out a slight moan as he enjoys your touch. One hand strokes along the length while the other twists around the tip. He closes his eyes and loses himself in the sensation. The sweet smell of his aphrodisiac fills the air, and your whole body longs for it. You feel your own arousal growing stronger with each passing moment, the wetness collecting between your legs. You use your semi-clear head to tease him a bit longer; you know his quirks and know the best ways to build him up. You know exactly how to push his buttons and make him lose control, and with his especially short fuse today, you enjoy this while you can. His moans get louder and less guarded. It gives you massive satisfaction to hear him like that, seeing his muscles ripple as his body is overtaken by pleasure. He's putty in your hands, completely at your mercy. It does not take long to get him to his edge, only to lessen the stimulation and deny his orgasm. His eyes shoot at you again as you grin.

"Oh no, no, you don't get to simply torture me." Vash says, and there is an edge to his voice; the heat is taking him over, revealing his more primal and wild sides. "I won't let you have all the fun."

His left hand grips your jaw, and his right one grabs the back of your head, entangling his fingers in your hair as he pulls your head back. You can only guess that if you weren't still holding his cock tightly, he would have crashed into you for a fierce kiss, but this is not what happens. As you look up with your mouth pried open, he rolls his mouth and parts his lips to let some spit drip off the tip of his tongue. It lands on yours, and the aphrodisiac immediately fills your senses. You feel a surge of desire rush through your body. You want more. You need more.

He looks satisfied as your hungry gaze moves back on his dick. You feel ravenous for more and desperate to taste the sweetness again. Desperate to pull the pleasure from his body. You lick the fingers of one of your hands, savoring the remnants of his essence that still linger on your skin, but it is not enough. Sticking out our tongue, you place his tip on it, collecting the constantly leaking pre-cum that's a hint of what's still to come. You can't wait to have him inside you, filling you up completely, but for now, you want to taste him in the back of your throat. The desire grows, and the heat in your belly rises with each passing second. He has opened the floodgates, and you're sure you've soaked through more than just your underwear.

Hungrily, you start sucking on him while both your hands busy themselves with stimulating the rest of his cock. His hand, holding on to your hair, tightens, urging you on even as you gag on him. Your head is flooded with nothing but the desire to become his personal cum dump. The intensity of the moment consumes you, and you find yourself lost in the pleasure of submission. His moans of pleasure only fuel your own arousal, pushing you to go further and deeper, with noises of enjoyment escaping your lungs. In that moment, you surrender completely to the overwhelming sensation of being his willing plaything. You slide off the couch to kneel before him, ready to fulfill his every desire.

One of your hands goes to rub your pussy through your pants, but the friction is not nearly enough. You want him all over your body, but your own pleasure comes second. You're here to please him, to have him fill you to the brim.

His groans intensify as you rub his most sensitive spot against the slightly rougher texture of your tongue. Your hand still works on the length of his cock as you feel him twitch under your touch. You know he's close, and you're determined to make him come undone. As he reaches the peak of his pleasure, you can feel his body tense and his breath quicken. With a final, deliberate movement, you bring him to the edge and watch as he releases with a deep, guttural moan. Satisfaction washes over you as his cum fills your mouth, sending a new rush of desire over you. The sweet taste that fogs your senses and judgment is irresistible as you swallow; another wave comes as you squeeze every drop out of him.

You look pleadingly up at him as you lick the taste of him from your lips. You want more. You need to please him; all that is in your head is him. His body, his cock, his seed. You want to be completely consumed by him. You want him to ravage your skin. The thought can cross your mind as you feel him shift under your touch. He reaches down, sliding his hands under your arms and lifting you up off the ground effortlessly, like one would do with a child. As your feet touch the floor, he releases you only to wrap his arms around your body, keeping you upright even as your legs still adjust. He leans you backwards, his strong hand pressing on your lower back so you're flush with his stomach, and his lips capture yours. Adrenaline courses through your body the moment his tongue sweeps through your mouth, leaving more sweetness behind. You feel your heart racing faster. He breathes heavily into your mouth during the kiss, his hands gripping you tightly and possessively.

He takes a few steps forward, forcing you to stumble backwards, but you might as well have done nothing as he drags you to the edge of the couch, roughly turns you around, and bends you over the armrest. One hand presses on your back as if telling you to stay down. The other hand slides down between your legs to cup your clad sex, feeling the wetness seeping through the layers of fabric. You feel a surge of desire and anticipation; you need his touch like you need air. You stay with your face down in the couch cushion and your ass up even as he removes both of his hands.

"Good girl." His low voice praises you as you feel him take hold of the waist of your pants. He pulls them down slowly, feeling the resistance before your ass pops out. He swallows hard as his mouth waters at the sight, and he pushes the pants and underwear down to your ankles. He slaps you hard on your bare skin, leaving it red and tingling, making you yelp. You feel a rush of excitement as he leans in closer, his swollen cock pressed against your crack as he whispers close to your ear. "No time for pleasantries, Mayfly."

In a twisted way, he warned you to brace yourself for what was about to happen next. Quickly, he pulls away from you, and you feel his tip press against your entrance as he lines himself up. One of his long fingered hands grabs hold of your hip as he thrusts forward into your sopping pussy with no mercy. You cry out in pleasure and pain as he fills you. He wastes no time as he pulls back again and thrusts back in with even more force. Your legs tremble at the delicious pain of friction inside you as you still adjust to his girth. Your body arches in response to his relentless pace, feeling a mixture of pleasure and pain with every powerful thrust. As his fingers dig into the flesh of our hips, yours dig into the cushion beneath you.

His pace is intense and unyielding, driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Every breath escapes you with moans, even as your walls adjust to him. His long, hard strokes send waves of pleasure coursing through your body, overwhelming your senses with pure bliss. He lets out a few grunts through gritted teeth as your pleasures grow. The aphrodisiac he is constantly leaking makes everything tingle, while your sense of time and self slip away completely. All else disappears; it's just the overwhelming sensation in your cunt that travels up your belly as he rearranges your guts. Every touch and thrust is an exquisite torment that you never want to end.

Wild tremors of lust ripple through your being as Vash releases one of his hands only to grab hold of your hair and pull your head back, making you prop yourself up on your hands, your neck extended as far back as it goes. His blood is on fire while it courses through his veins, carrying the desperation of wanting to fill you up. His other hand, too, glides from your hip, sliding down the slope of your ass onto your back as he rams ferociously into you. Your pussy clenches around him, pulling him in deeper and deeper until he reaches his breaking point. With a groan, he releases himself inside of you, filling you with his hot cum. You feel the warmth spreading inside you, making you moan with pleasure. He keeps thrusting into you, showing no sign of slowing down, even as he makes you reach your climax, crying out his name in pleasure. Every impact he makes against your cervix pushes some of the hot, creamy liquid out of your body, making it drip over your folds.

He pulls on your hair harder, and the hand on your back wraps around to help you get up. You arch your back, sticking your ass out even as he pulls you close enough to kiss your neck. Vash whispers softly in your ear, "You're mine."

This only makes you ache more, even as the high of your first orgasm still lingers. You slip out one of your feet from the mess of pants to prop your knee on the armrest as Vash's throbbing cock continues to pound into you relentlessly. He has no cooldown period in his current state, continuing to drive you to the brink of pleasure and pain. The hand holding your hair moves down over your lower belly to your aching clit. His fingers brush over it with quick motions, filling the small room with even more wet sounds. The arm around you shifts up so his long fingers can wrap around your throat, applying just the right amount of pressure. The intense moans of pleasure escape you as choked cries. The next climax chases the last as you tremble in his grip, your fingers digging into the flesh of his right arm. The pleasure is overwhelming, as you barely perceive his own moans.

The satisfaction only lasts until the euphoria fades away, leaving you needing more. He pulls you closer, his cock in you as deep as it will go. He pauses his rutting for a moment, releasing your windpipe, and as you gasp for more air, he sticks the fingers of his other hand into your mouth, feeling the vibrations of your moans as you taste both of you on them, but mostly the overwhelming sweetness, sending you into a frenzy again.

You put both feet on the ground again, gripping his dick tighter as he sucks on your neck. You feel thick liquid dripping down your thighs. Your head is filled with thoughts of how to get him moving again as your tongue twirls around his fingers. You can't wait for him to come inside you again; that's all that matters. His free hand explores your body, tugging at your top as it passes over the fabric. You moan softly, your body arching in response to his touch, but as he reaches your thighs, he pulls away and out of you.

"This won't do." Vash takes a step to the left. The prosthesis pushes you forward a bit to bend again. "Spread your legs." He commands, and you comply. His fingers run up your inner thighs, sending shivers down your spine as he collects the cum leaking from your cunt. Vash fingers smear it on your pussy, pushing some back inside.

"I think you should just fill me up again." you say pleadingly, hands leaning on the armrest of the couch. "Please?"

You feel his wet hand run over your ass cheek before smacking it hard and squeezing it tight. You lick your lips again, missing the sweet taste of him, while your sex longs for him. Your breath is heavy as you wait for his answer.

"Tell me what you want." His voice is quiet but has an edge you don't usually hear. You feel a surge of desire coursing through your body as his lips brush your ear.

"I want you to take me. Use me, please. Do whatever you want; just please fill me with your cum. No, drown me in it. I'm begging you." Your voice gets whinier and weaker as you feel his hand explore your body. "Pin me down and fuck me."

"That's my girl," he growls in your ear before turning you around, ripping your shirt down the middle, and pulling it roughly off. His hands grab your waist, and you jump up, wrapping your legs around his middle. Your lips find his as you cup his face with your hands. The sweetness sweeps you away again, and your tongue explores the cavity of his mouth to find more. Vash carries you to the bedroom to continue having his way with you.

He throws you on the bed and wastes no time before climbing in after you. You look at him, your eyes trailing down his magnificent face and body to the still hard cock swaying between his legs, eager for more. His left hand captures your wrists as he pushes them to the bed above you. Vash's lips crash on yours again in a fiery kiss, causing your body to tingle with desire.

You spread your legs wide as he settles between them. His whole body pins you down, trapping you underneath him as his free hand helps his tip glide along your slick folds, teasing you with his touch before pushing into your depths. The sensation of being filled by him makes you moan in ecstasy against his lips, knowing that he is the only one who can make you feel this way.

His thrusts are shallow at first as he grinds his hip against yours. But soon he picks up the pace, filling you with each powerful thrust, rocking your whole body with each stroke. As the intensity builds, your breath becomes ragged. The room is filled with the sounds of your combined moans and the rhythmic slapping of wet skin on skin. You can feel the tension building within you, knowing that you are on the brink of an intense release. With each movement, he drives you closer to the edge, pushing you towards a climax that promises to be explosive. The pleasure is overwhelming, consuming every fiber of your being. Just when you think you can't take any more, the wave crashes over you, sending you spiraling into ecstasy. Your body shudders with pleasure as you ride out the intense climax. Loud cries escape your lungs as Vash pulls back, releasing your pinned hands to straighten up more.

He doesn't relent for a moment, continuing to pound into you with all the energy meant for turning a whole town into a sinful pleasure paradise. Your mind goes blank as you feel his hand push down on your lower belly, lost in the moment of pure ecstasy. Every touch, every movement sends you deeper into a state of euphoria that you never want to end. Your pussy clamps down around him, and Vash lets out a moan of satisfaction, increasing the speed at which he's ramming into you. It's enough to have him coming into you again, each thrust causing more of his seed to escape your cunt and drip down your crack. You shudder in pleasure as you feel him release, hands gripping the sheets beneath. You arch your back and moan loudly.

Time loses all meaning. It is just pleasure, and one orgasm chasing the other for both of you. It fills you with happiness each time he comes undone inside you. It fills you with a kind of satisfaction your own climax doesn't bring for long. As his releases become more and more frequent, to the point where there is barely any time where he isn't shooting you up, you are in a pleasure induced bliss. You feel like you are floating on a cloud of ecstasy. He has grabbed your hips to raise your lower half up off the bed to slam his dick into your cunt with more urgency than before. His cum, mixed with your own juices, drips down your back, forming a puddle underneath your ass as he continues to thrust deeply and passionately. You moan in pleasure, feeling another climax approach like a freight train. You try your best to roll your hips on his dick as he holds them tight off the bed. Your hands grab your breasts, pinching on the hard nipples. Your body feels exhausted but is fueled by the aphrodisiac still in your system. You crave it like a drug.

Vash grunts in satisfaction as he comes again, and the wave washing over you pushes you over the edge too, your walls contracting around him in a pulsing rhythm so hard while he pulls back that he pops out. You whimper as, instead of slamming back into you, the length of his cock slides over your clit while he cums. You shake as he makes no effort to correct his aim, instead allowing himself to enjoy the rough texture of your lower lips. Each thrust leaves you gasping for breath and covers you with another of his loads. Your stomach and chest are slick with his cum, and some makes its way onto your tongue, making your cunt gush again as you long for him. Your body trembles with pleasure as you eagerly anticipate the next round of passion. You suck on your finger as you taste him on it, and you feel happiness as all the seed meant for populating a town with his offspring is all yours.

Did you like this? Go check out my MASTERLIST (most of my other stuff is a lot more tame) and drop a follow for any and all future projects!

#trigun #fanfiction #fanfic #vash the stampede #x reader #plant boi #humanoid typhoon #writing

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