#conned into loving him because the world and the people in it loved him back even when he couldn’t love himself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bratbby333 · 10 days

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i will possess your heart – satoru gojo

-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k

Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.

Click

January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.

Click

January 16th, 6:38 PM

My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.

Click

January 19th, 6:11 AM

Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.

Click

January 19th, 8:27 PM

I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it.

Click

January 23rd, 5:13 AM

Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.

Click

January 23rd, 9:53 PM

She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again.

Click

January 28th, 7:06 PM

My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be.

Click

February 2nd, 8:31 AM

I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.

Click

February 5th, 6:21 PM

I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.

That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her.

With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.

He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.

It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area.

Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit.

In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love.

These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?

Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to.

He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces.

Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine.

Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get.

You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.

Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away.

On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you.

“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.

When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you.

There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf.

You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.

Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.

His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month.

“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening.

You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.

His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well.

Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.

Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.

Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?

But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.

Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease.

For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.

Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text:

-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)

He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.

-I would love that. What time, my love?

Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.

-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.

Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours.

A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man…didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.

Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text:

-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.

You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks.

“What is it?” your coworker asked.

“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face.

Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.

You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.

No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries.

You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now.

“January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.

When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony.

You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head.

“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner.

“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest.

“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks.

Click

Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you.

“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?”

You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life.

The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting?

Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room.

As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.

He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.

Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.

A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.”

“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.

“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.

He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.

Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue.

A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.”

Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.

“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.

“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”

He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.

“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.

“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you.

A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy.

Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote.

Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him.

“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand.

“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”

Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him.

“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”

You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment.

Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”

Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage.

“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”

It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.”

You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening.

“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex.

“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then…” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch.

You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most.

“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.

You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you.

“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours.

author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.

this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol

alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆｡˚

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bisexualiteaa · 6 days

Note

actually dying for a cooper howard x vaultie!reader smut where they have some slow burn longing steaminess, but coop thinks she’s too good for him UNTIL she comes in contact with a sex pollen-esque chem and he finally gives in to save her 🥵 please work your magic and elaborate however you want

A Flame in Your Heart

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW like absolutely filthy y’all, you’ve been warned. 💀 unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, p in v, p0rn w/ plot, slow burn, flirting, cursing, perverted thoughts, dub-con (because of chem usage though consent is asked and given!) rough sex, dirty talk, choking, praise kink, degradation, squirting, mention of fingering, FEELINGS!! Slight deviation from TV series, possible grammar/spelling mistakes, cooper starts off mean but slowly warms up to reader

AN: I absolutely LOVED this request! I was up all night writing down all my ideas and spent all this morning perfecting it, and this has to be my longest one yet! I thank you for your patience anon and my lovely readers as I finally post this! Hope you enjoy and that I have done your ask justice! ❤️

Life outside of the vault was difficult to say the least. You felt hunger and dehydration in ways you’d never experienced before, going out of your way to do desperate things you would normally never do in order to get said food and water. The heat was unbearable, every stretch of land you walked across had a danger lurking around every corner, and worst of all, you’d never felt so alone. You weren’t sure what it was about you, maybe it was because you were new to the surface, maybe it was your nearly perfect skin, but everyone seemed to stare or glare at you when you would walk through. It wasn’t until you’d passed through Filly, meeting Ma June that you realized people didn’t take kindly to people like you. “Vaulties” she called them, an audible disdain in her tone, making you look down to remember you were in your blue and gold Vault-Tec suit. “I’ll be going then, have a nice day!” You said skiddishly, offering her a kind smile before turning and exiting the shop. You just wanted to make friends, why was that so hard up here? So when your eyes set on a man clad in classic Wild West cowboy clothes, watching smoke settle after a stand off, you weren’t sure why but you knew that was who you needed on your side in this world. Before you knew it, your feet were already moving and mouth speaking to him, grabbing his attention.

“I ain’t no charity case sweetheart, I don’t take on strays” The ghoul spoke, his southern drawl making him even more memorable than the marred texture of his skin. You looked to the dog that trailed not far behind him as he walked, changing its pace to keep up with the man. “The dog there with you tells me otherwise” you quipped. “Ain’t my dog” he responded harshly as he continued walking. “I can make it worth your while!” You yelled, making him stop in his tracks for a moment, a scary sight at first before you worked up the nerve to come closer once he turned back to you. “And how you suppose you’d do that?” He asked, and at first you didn’t know what to say, the words leaving your mouth before you could really think of a good enough reason. Did nobody like company anymore these days? “Well…I can be your scavenger! Pretty good at collecting stuff” you offered, shaking your bag and making things rattle around inside to prove it, making him give a huff of a chuckle. “‘f I wanted a pack mule I’d‘ve found a brahman” he shot you down. “Okay, then I can be good company to talk to!” You offered. “They make radios for when I want to listen to someone yack” he shut down once again. “I’m a good cook! Even with shitty supplies, I can make a stew that’d put a smile even on the meanest son of a gun’s face” you said, hopeful that he’d at least take you for something, but you had a feeling he’d probably turn you down again. “Iguana on a stick’s just fine” he said, though he had to admit the stew sounded good. Reminded him of home before all this wasteland bullshit. “Oh, umm…” you said awkwardly, your tone growing quiet and my how it put a sad look in your eyes. The evil part of him liked it, seeing your sweet innocent face all downturned but the part that was still human deep down, the part that hardly ever saw the light of day anymore, had half a mind to let you.

“Got a lotta nerve walkin’ up t’ me, girly. If you somehow been lucky enough that you ain’t met dangerous yet, you’re lookin’ at someone who could put you down before you’d even mutter your last words” he threatened, motioning to the double barreled shotgun in his hands. “I know, I saw it first hand. You hold yourself well, I envy that. I’m new to all of this and just really want someone who can help me hold my own the same way” you explained. “Look, I know I don’t look like much but please just give me a chance” you begged, looking up at him with a fighting spirit in your eyes that he had to admit, he was pretty impressed in seeing in a vaultie. “You help me, I help you, however that ends up being” you offered, standing strong on this and damn if he didn’t see a little bit of himself in you at that. He gave a sigh, tilting his head down before shaking it, not believing himself for the words he was about to say. “Alright, but the minute you start draggin’ you’re out, got me?” He said, and he hated the way his cold heart seemed to pump a little faster upon seeing your eyes light up with joy and a smile stretch to your face. “Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, opening your arms up to hug him but being met with the barrel of his gun poking your stomach to keep space between you. “I don’t do hugs” he spoke gruffly, making you back up enough to where he’d drop the gun back to his side. “R-Right…sorry” you apologized, embarrassment washing over you but still glad to finally have someone in your company. “C’mon, I ain’t got all day now” he said, motioning you to start walking, so you joined him.

Your travels with him certainly weren’t at all what you were expecting them to be. From being used as bait, to being tied up with rope most of the time you’d traveled together, or being sent in as his scavenger, you weren’t prepared for a lot of the reality you faced with being up on the surface. Most nights made you question why you’d ever left the comfort of the vault, why you’d abandoned a trusty food supply, regulated temperatures, a safe place to sleep that wasn’t riddled with radroaches or had the likely hood of waking up to a raider with a knife at your throat for no reason. Then you would remember the experiment in your vault, why you left that awful place for arguably a worse reality on the surface but at least you had freedom. Out here you were free to say what you want, do what you want, consume what you want so long as you could defend yourself incase that supply wasn’t unclaimed. You’d gotten pretty handy with a gun in the most recent weeks. Cooper, you learned one night was his name, using empty glass bottles as targets to help teach you accuracy and how to hit things from a longer range. In exchange, you came a little more useful than he had first thought. You had some useful stuff on you for trade like chems, ammo and food, were a good extra bag to hold stuff in, and you were a better cook than you’d talked about. Sure you had a tendency to talk too much, and you weren’t great with a gun, but you were getting there.

“Might I suggest takin’ them clothes instead of wearin’ that suit?” He said, making you look at him weird for suggesting you strip a dead raider of their clothes. “Why would I do that…?” You asked, genuinely confused and not sure what he was implying either, he was a hard man to predict. “Because, people see that shit and get real mad. People up here don’t like vaulties or the ones that run ‘em” he said and it made sense, it helped you understand why you kept getting evil glares each time someone would look at you or talk to you. You figured he knew best, so you took the shirt and pants from one of the female raiders, tucking them into your bag to change into at a better time. He gave a chuckle watching you do so, apologizing to the dead body profusely as you took their clothes and whatever valuables they had on them for the betterment of your own survival. You were still so naive, part of him was hoping he could slowly start to break and corrupt your way of thinking, but that was a thought for another time.

Before you knew it, night finally began to fall. The sun setting across the horizon gave the air less of a hot, harsh bite as the temperature began to cool rapidly across the sands of the Mojave. All you managed to grab was a pair of beat up, old jeans and a tank top, so as soon as the sun set, the chill set in. As you both set up camp for the night just outside of an abandoned rest stop, you started a fire to cook some of that stew you talked about being good at. He had to admit, it was pretty damn good, likely the best thing he’s had since before the bombs went off. Though even the kindling fire couldn’t manage to chase the chill away, watching you run your hands up and down your arms to try and warm up some by it. He felt a slight pang in his heart, watching you shiver like that, how your eyes lit up by the blaze of the fire and your hair seemed to be tousled just right. You were pretty, too pretty to be trekking this wasteland, and certainly too pretty to be trekking it with him of all people as your company. Even he had a heart still, as cold as it was, so out of kindness he shrugged his duster from his shoulders, draping it around you. You looked at the fabric pooled around you, pulling it over you better before looking to him as he sat down across from you again. “Ain’t no use if the cold gets ya” he said, making you smile appreciatively at him as you realized what he did. “Thank you” you replied, a slight blush fanning to your cheeks as the chattering of your teeth finally died down and you grew warmer. It smelled like him, sure it had splatters of old dried blood and was rather worn, but it had that gunpowder and smoke smell to it that you associated with him. “Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya” he replied, trying to sound cold but it didn’t come off that way, making you chuckle. “What do I owe you?” You asked, making him fall silent for a moment as he pondered the answer to your question. He looked you over for a second before tipping his hat down to cover his face a bit, the signal that he was about to try and get some sleep. “Just keep watch for a bit, I’ll be up in a few hours” he responded, and while it wasn’t what you were expecting, you’d take it.

He was startled awake a couple hours later when he heard a commotion, you yelling at someone telling them to back off that this place had been claimed. The raider you were up against didn’t seem to like that very much, claiming that wasn’t how it worked up here. The altercation took a turn for the worst when the man reached for his gun but you were quick to fire and kill him before he could let out a shot. A shaky feeling set in your hands and a horrified expression across your face at the realization that you just killed someone. Cooper, who was certainly wide awake now, was rather impressed by your quick timing and precision, coming up behind you to lay a gloved hand to your shoulder. “Well would ya look at that, looks like them lessons been payin’ off after all. How’s it feel?” He asked, looking down at you as you stared at the gun in your hands. “He was yelling at me but…he was aiming at you. I don’t really know what came over me, I didn’t like that he was going to shoot you so I just…I killed him” you said, recounting the encounter to him as if he hadn’t seen it himself. He didn’t really know what to think in that moment as you explained how your mind worked, he was proud for sure at your show of improvement with a gun, yet also touched at the same time. No one ever really looked out for him since he started his bounty hunting, he was a well hated man by many but you defended him without really any reason to. You’d just learned his name not but two weeks ago, and before that he was dragging you around with rope yet you still defended him, had you two really gotten closer in the time that’s passed since? He wasn’t sure, but it was something he could mull over while you were sleeping. “Get some rest vaultie, sun’ll be up soon” he said, knowing you likely wouldn’t get much sleep with the adrenaline still coursing through you, but it was at least worth a try, you two had a long day ahead of you.

When you woke up that next morning, things felt a little different between you two. You weren’t some annoying little dog following him anymore, you were an equal. He no longer looked at you and treated you like you were lower than him as you both set out across the wastelands, he had respect for you. Hell, he even started talking with you now when you were out traveling which was almost unbelievable. You learned through those conversations that he used to be an actor in Wild West themed films, explaining his outfit, and that he was married before the bombs dropped. You of course told him bits and pieces about yourself in exchange, after all it only felt fair but it was also nice to just finally talk to someone after all this time.

When night time fell again you two sat enjoying a meal by the fire together, only rather than across from each other, he sat next to you, making a blush come to your face as you’d smiled sweetly at him. “Glad to know I don’t have germs anymore” you said jokingly, making him chuckle. “Give an old man some credit. It ain’t exactly all peaches and marmalade out here darlin’, even cute can be deadly” he said, the nickname and him calling you cute sending a deeper blush to your cheeks despite knowing it’s just how he spoke. Whether it was the lack of contact with other people for so long, or just his charm you couldn’t quite tell, but it always seemed to have an effect on you. “Just teasin’ you, I get it. I’d tie me up and use me for bait too if I’d been doing this as long as you have. It’s a shit hole out here” you said, making him look at you as you dropped the first curse word he’s ever heard from you. “Well I’ll be damned, either I’m a bad influence or you’re finally growin’ outta that naive shell there, vaultie” Cooper replied, making you laugh as you saw a smirk stretch to his thin, marred lips, the first one you’d seen in a while that wasn’t brought on by drugs, chems or that first sip of a good bottle of alcohol. “Probably both” you quipped, making him chuckle. “Yeah, probably. Been told I ain’t easy to stomach” he said, making you hum. “You’re alright in my book, Coop” you replied with a sweet, genuine smile that matched your tone and was that butterflies you felt in your stomach? Did you just call him Coop? No ones called him that in ages, why did it make his heart start to flutter a bit? “You ain’t so bad yourself, vaultie” he responded, still affording you that small smile before turning back to his food. “Keep making food this good and I just might have to keep you around” he joked, making you giggle and break the slightly tense silence. “It’s not much but I certainly try. I’ll definitely make sure to stay good at it, I like traveling with you” you said, unintentionally coming off flirtatious and fuck there it goes again, that feeling in his chest and his stomach like he needed to hit his inhaler but he felt great. What were you doing to him?

“Hey, if it isn’t too much can I ask you a sort of…personal question?” You asked, holding the beat up bowl in your hands as you looked over at him. This was normally the part where he would say no, absolutely not, he wasn’t here to be questioned on his personal matters. Yet, with you, it was different. Ever since last night he hasn’t been so on edge with you, it was like he’d warmed up to you. “Depends on what you’re askin’ there, sweetheart” he said, the nickname once again making you blush. “Do you…miss them? Your wife and daughter?” You asked, not sure if it was a good subject or good question to ask but after finding out, you were genuinely curious. He looked down at his bowl again, thinking of the proper response to your question. The old him would have been defensive, told you it was none of your business, but now? He wasn’t sure. “Ain’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about ‘em. About the way I ran out on ‘em when them bombs dropped” he answered, making you give him a sad look as genuine guilt filled his tone. This was the most honest and open he’s been with you this whole time. “I feel guilty. Not sure if I feel guilty for runnin’ out and leavin’ ‘em behind or guilty for the way I ran out, been tryin’ t’ figure that out for quite a while now and I still ain’t sure” he added, and you sympathized with that. Everyone has regrets, things they’ve done in the past that they aren’t proud of, people up here were no different in that aspect. “Well, in the short time I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve come to understand that everything you do has a valid reason behind it. So even if you feel it was a shitty thing to do, you obviously had a reason for doing so. No one can blame you for trusting your gut, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for doing so” you responded, your hand falling to his as a comforting gesture, your words ringing in his head almost as if you’d opened something in his mind, something he’d never really gave himself to think about before. He looked down at your hand that rested on his, noticing the way you didn’t flinch away from him like others did, the way you were brave enough to walk up to him, talk to him, *trust* him when he made it very clear that you shouldn’t. It was smaller than his, softer for sure, but warm all the same, then he looked up to see that caring look in your eyes and smile on your face that told him that you cared. “Guess you’re right, still wonder sometimes if it was the right choice to make” he replied. “I understand. Everyone has regrets, we all look at the past and hold at least something that we’ve done before in regret, it’s what makes us human” you said, making him give a huff as a chuckle. “You got anybody?” He asked, making you look down as you moved your feet along the dirt. “An ex-husband, but not anyone I really care about, no. My parents passed a few years before the bombings and he and I split up when I caught him cheating on me with some other woman in the vault..” you explained, not sure why it hurt you to tell the tale still, but you felt it was only fair considering what you’d asked of him to share. “Sorry t’ hear that” Cooper said, making you chuckle weakly, a somber look coming to your face that made his heart wrench. “I haven’t exactly been in love since, and considering he and I split up just a little over ten years ago, really says something I guess, huh?” You asked, trying to laugh to bring up the mood, knowing you sounded pathetic. “He was the fool, not you darlin’. He was the one skippin’ out on one hell of a woman” Cooper said, making you look to him and blush a bit as you gave a chuckle at his response.

“Thanks” you replied appreciatively and with a smile before casting your gaze down to see your hands were still connected and it left you blushing harder with embarrassment, you’d been holding his hand this entire time without realizing it. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable if I have I-“ “relax vaultie” he cut you off, pushing your hand back down onto his to assure you that he was far from uncomfortable. “It’s…rather nice actually” he admitted, making you feel relieved but your heart fluttered in your chest from it. A thick tension soon began to set in between you both after that night, something of an unspoken, kindling romance beginning to develop. “Then there it can stay” you said, making him smile softly at you, tipping his hat at you as a silent thank you.

Months passed on like this, where you’d spend the days scavenging, picking the land for its resources you could find and hunting bounties by day, then spending your nights by a fire growing closer and closer with every passing day. Through your shared meals, jokes, deep conversations, and plenty of near death experiences, you started to notice your fondness of the ghoul you traveled with. The way you’d hang onto his words with that southern accent that seemed to pull at your heart strings, or the way you’d go out of your way to stand between him and a stray bullet. You’d helped him on more than one occasion in getting out of a sticky spot, or getting him the stuff he needed to keep from turning feral. In return, he started to notice he was feeling the same towards you. There was this sudden need to keep you safe, to do nicer things for you, to speak better towards you, even flirt with you at times. Some nights there’d be so much tension in the air, it’s a miracle you haven’t jumped each other yet. Though in his eyes, as much as his heart yearned for you, he knew you were too good for him. You’d been hurt before, and he had a reputation for hurting people, feeling undeserving of even just the sweet smiles and company you afford him even now. You didn’t need someone like him, you needed a good man, someone who didn’t kill for a living, someone who could treat you right, someone who didn’t look the way he did. You were soft and warm, he was rough and cold, though he supposed that’s where the term “opposites attract” came from. So even when he was a whole bottle deep, he was sure to hold his tongue to a certain point.

Some of those nights around the fire were spent sober, others not so much, and this night happened to be one of those nights spent under the influence. You two had stumbled across a mini-mart, doing your best to out run the radstorm that had been trailing you guys for hours, coming in just to find whatever supplies you could to make it through the next week and possibly hunker down for the night. So imagine your surprise when you seemed to have found the largest chem stache you’d both ever laid eyes on. “Coop! Come here, you gotta see this” you said, making him run towards you to make sure you weren’t hurt or in trouble. His nerves were eased once he saw you, fully intact. “Tell me I’m not seeing shit” you said, pointing to all of the supplies sitting in a box on the table, joined by other supplies around it. You both looked at each other in complete and utter disbelief, this would keep you stocked for months, maybe even a whole year if you conserved it well. “Well ain’t that just the prettiest fuckin’ sight” he said. There was no way a horde of chems this large and this valuable was just completely unprotected you reasoned, so you routed around the place, scoping out for any raiders, straggling traders or ferals who happened to still be around. It was as if heaven was shining down on you both as you found no one around, seemed like no one had been here for days. So you did the most logical thing anyone would do in this situation. Stuff each of your bags to the brim of drugs of all varieties! Seeing as you had food, chems and even some clean water and alcohol lying around, Cooper locked and barricaded the door shut, proposing it could be a good spot to sleep for the night. With a radstorm approaching, it was best to have a roof over your heads to keep out the rain and potential radiation sickness that came with it. “This is the closest fuckin’ thing to a slice of heaven I’ve seen in ages” he said, aside from you is what played in his mind but he couldn’t speak that out loud, no matter how much he wanted to. “You said it!” you replied, and it’s even better with you here you thought, but thought it best to keep it to yourself. He plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet up to rest on the small table that seemed to be in shambles, enjoying a tape that was playing on the TV that he was surprised to still see functioning. “Holy shit, this thing still works?” You asked, amazed to see working technology out in the wastelands, sitting next to him as you watched it with him. He gave a smirk at your reaction, thinking it was cute the way your eyes would light up when you got all excited over something. Deep down it made him want to give you everything you laid eyes on like that just to see it pointed towards him. “Guess so” he replied, enjoying your excitement only to see you turn and look his way, which was his signal to stop staring holes into you before he gets caught. “I dunno about you baby doll, but I ain’t about to spend tonight sober with this stache sittin’ here ‘n front of us” he said, making you laugh as he routed through all the different drugs and chems til he found what he was looking for.

In the process of searching through it all, a small metal box fell to the floor at your feet. It looked like a box of mentats only the design was different, instead of the characteristic green and white box was a red one covered with hearts labeled DN-Chem. You supposed the worst that could happen was turn into the man sitting next to you, which you figured wasn’t the worst fate to succumb to all things considered, so you went against all better judgement and said fuck it, popping two of the mentat like chems and chasing it with the vodka he’d found to wait for it to take effect. “The hell is DN?” He asked, looking at the box, wondering what it was you took. “Don’t know, guess we’ll find out here soon because I took two” you said, taking another sip from the bottle of vodka he passed your way, and he gave a chuckle as you handed it back to him. “You come a mighty long way, little lady” he commented before setting the metal pill box down. He took the bottle from you, taking a swig, then placing one of the small viles into his inhaler before taking a hit of it then lying back, breathing a sigh of relief as it and the alcohol entered his system like the perfect remedy to any ailment. As about a half an hour rolled by, you waited for the high to set in but it never came, instead you were just getting hot, like really hot. There weren’t any windows open, and it was night time so you shouldn’t be this uncomfortably hot for how it was but you felt like you were on fire. “Shit, it’s hot as hell in here…” you complained, shaking off your jacket that you’d picked off of some raider a few weeks back, making him look to you curiously. “Lightweight” he quipped, making you chuckle. “Accept I don’t feel anything, I just feel hot” you said, making him hum with intrigue before turning back to the TV. “Give it some time, you’re new to all this. ‘m sure your body is wonderin’ what the hell you just put in it” he said, and he had a good point, maybe it was just a side effect of not doing them so often compared to his every day use.

As time went on, you began to notice the way your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to him, more specifically glued to the way his legs were now spread as he sat back. You wondered to yourself what he looked like beneath all that cowboy get up, what his reaction would be like to see you getting on your knees for him and slotting yourself between his spread legs. You shook your head to try and rid yourself of such inappropriate thoughts, but what you couldn’t stop no matter how hard you tried was the feeling of arousal beginning to pool in your panties. Sure he flirted with you every now and again, but you doubt he felt towards you the same way you did for him. To him you were sure you were likely more akin to a pet than a friend, useful and nice to have around, but not anything further. At least so you thought. You’d rather hoped you were wrong in assuming so, that maybe he saw you the same way you saw him. You bit your lip as you tried bouncing your leg to relieve the ache between your thighs, a light pink dusting your face and neck even up to the tips of your ears, but nothing worked. Even as you closed your eyes, all you could picture was you laid out on the couch beneath him, or bent over it with him behind you, or you riding him on it. “Been awful quiet. You doin’ alright over there, sweetheart?” Cooper asked you, and the audible whimper you let out from the nickname left you completely embarrassed. You clasped a hand over your mouth, god you were horrified but he gave a grin and a chuckle in response. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me all the sudden. I feel so…weird?” you said, unsure if that was really the proper word to explain it but it was the only way you could really word it off the top of your head with how much your brain felt as if it was turning to mush. “Ya took some chems, it’s gonna feel a bit fuzzy” he said, trying to assure you that feeling a little funny was normal, but this? This didn’t feel normal, not even for a chem high. You tried your best to swallow harshly, doing everything you could to try and relieve the dry ache you felt in your throat at the moment upon looking at him. You grabbed the bottle of vodka, taking a few sips but even that couldn’t grant you bliss from it. The throbbing in your core was driving you absolutely insane. You swore up and down that it was like you could feel your heartbeat in your chest, stomach, and in your cunt all at the same time. “No, this is different…I don’t think what I took was a normal chem, Coop…” you said, trying not to panic at the effects that were setting in but god you felt like you were absolutely feral. He turned to look at you, watching as you clamped your thighs together and the red that fell over your face. “I feel like an animal in heat” you said bluntly, making him go into a near coughing fit as you took him off guard. However that piqued his interest enough to pick up the little metal box again to see what it was you took. “I ain’t ever heard of a chem that does that, was that DN shit the only stuff you took?” He asked, growing slightly concerned for you and whether he had a possible horde of laced chems, or just an extremely horny woman on his hands. Speaking of hands, you were lost in thought staring at them, at the way they gripped the couch like you wanted him to grip your thighs, at the way they looked in those leather gloves he always wore. You wondered how it would feel wrapped around your throat, or how it would feel if his fingers were buried deep inside of you. Shit. This was getting out of control.

“Hey, ya with me still?” He asked, snapping to try and get your attention back on the matter at hand, making you shake your head yes as you broke from your perverted thoughts. “Is that DN shit the only thing you took?” He asked again, making you shake your head yes once more, because you knew damn well your voice was going to betray you the moment you tried to speak. That had to be it, it was the only thing that was different out of it all and the only thing he’d never heard of before. He knew it wasn’t the vodka either because he was drinking it with you, so if it was affecting you, it would have affected him and it hadn’t.

It took him a minute to put two and two together before he finally realized the abbreviations stood for Date Night, reading the instructions and effects on the inside of the tin’s lid. “Shit..” he said as he read it, realizing this was a hand made thing thrown into the bunch by whoever was running this place. “Did you read the lid before you popped them pills?” He asked, making you go wide eyed. As if this couldn’t get any fucking worse, this shit show could have been avoided had you just read the inside of the lid. “There was instructions?? Oh my god…what the fuck did I take?” You asked, concerned for yourself and the tone he had while reading it. “Somethin’ that the creator of it called Date Night. Looks like it’s a…well looks like it’s a handmade sex chem” he said, making you cover your face with your hands out of sheer embarrassment, you’d never wanted to die out in a radstorm more than you did right now. “Please tell me you’re fucking joking, cooper…” you whined, watching him read it more. “How much of it did you take?” He asked, almost scared to know and you were scared to know why. “Two?” You replied, making him whistle at that as he read it. “Fuckin’ hell sugar..” he said through a chuckle, and that nickname made a shiver run through you, sending electric bolts straight to your throbbing cunt. You did your best to bite back the whimper. “You’re only s’possed take one, and with you bein’ new t’ all this, I wouldn’t have taken more than half” he said, making you just wish you could just dig a hole and die in it already. “Fuck me…wait, shit! N-Not literally fuck me I- well I mean I’d like if you did but…FUCK! Forgive me Cooper, I’m so sorry, I can hardly think straight” you said, making him chuckle. “Well sweetheart, I think you and I both know there’s only one good fix for this situation” he said, making you whimper pathetically at the thought, your thighs squeezing together even more as you tried to fight to stay sane. Your eyes cast downwards to his lap once more, seeing the tent forming in his pants, clearly you weren’t the only one all worked up here. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, Coop. I can run off and take care of myself if it makes you uncomfort-“ you rambled but before you could finish, his hand cupped the side of your face, pulling you in for a long awaited kiss. You moaned into it without meaning to, feeling the way your body immediately relaxed upon wrapping your arms around him with no hesitation as the sweet innocent kiss turned passionate and dirty rather quickly.

“I won’t lie t’ you, doin’ this with you has passed my mind more times than I’d care to admit, but I don’t wanna cross that line unless you really want this” he said, looking into your eyes and making sure that this was truly what you wanted, that you felt the same way he did. “Coop, I know I’m under the influence of whatever the fuck this drug is, but trust me when I say, I’d be just as good with it sober. Been thinking about it for probably just as long as you have, if I’m honest with you. I want this, I want you and right now I want you so fucking bad that I might lose my mind if you don’t fuck me” you answered bluntly, taking him by surprise at just the sheer amount of absolute filth that left your otherwise innocent mouth, making him chuckle at your use of curse words and how desperate you were for him. “That so sugar?” He asked with a grin, enjoying teasing you at your neediest moments, including now. “God yes, Cooper please..” you begged, nearly moaning in reply and he’d spent time mulling over it before, denying himself the chance but just as the chem stache was a pot of gold, he took this as one of the best opportunities being placed in his lap by whatever higher power existed out there, making him waste no time in kissing you once more. “Good, because I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back once we’ve started” he said, and the idea made you moan. “Don’t want you to hold back, want all of you” you said, and your wish was his command.

By the time your brain could finally catch up with you again, your clothes were strewn out all around you, your tank top hanging over the back of the couch, your jeans thrown haphazardly on the arm rest behind you, his pants on the floor, his hat on the table and shirt and duster having fallen somewhere behind the couch. By now, you’d already cum on his fingers twice, and on his cock once, this was your fourth round and this shit still had you on fire. “Yes!! Oh fuck, Cooper!” you moaned as your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him as close to you as you could get, your fingers digging crescent shapes and puffy red lines into his back that unfortunately he knew wouldn’t stay long thanks to his ability to heal stupidly fast. “Doin’ so good for me, baby doll. Look so pretty like this for me, all splayed out like a needy little whore” he praised and degraded through his groans, making you moan and roll your eyes into the back of your head at the praise mixed with degradation as his cock was drilling deep inside you like tonight was all you guys had. “Yeah, you like that, huh sweet thing? Like it when I tell you how good it feels and call you names?” He asked, making you nod your head yes because there wasn’t a single thought in that brain of yours other than his name, which you spoke like a mantra. “Never knew such a sweet lil’ thing like you would be such a dirty little minx. Fuck…enough to make a man like me go feral, ya know that?” he said, making you giggle as you moved his free hand up to your throat, urging him to choke you, and he groaned at the sight. Your kiss swollen lips all puffy and shining with spit, your cheeks dusted a constant pink that grew darker anytime his cock brushed that spot deep inside that made you cling to him, your eyes half lidded, looking up at him like he was your savior. It made him absolutely rock hard knowing you’d pick him over anyone else in this god forsaken wasteland. “My, you are just a little freak, ain’t you? Oh we are gonna have fun together, you and me honey” he promised, squeezing your throat tight enough to restrict your airflow but not enough to hurt or cause any damage. Just enough to get that puddle of a brain of yours all fuzzy as you got closer to your fourth orgasm of the night. “Cooper…’m so close, so close please!!” You begged, feeling the heavy drag of his cock as he pounded into you, leaving you damn near screaming as it nudged your cervix and that spongy little bundle of nerves deep inside. “Go on honey, I gotchya. Let go for me, wanna see those pretty faces and hear those pretty noises you make” he said, angling his hips just right to hit that spot over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck I’m gonna cum again, I-“ you warned before your moans rose in pitch as your walls clamped around him, gushing on his cock as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body arched off the couch, stars filling your vision for a moment as you felt your release gush out and coat your inner thighs, screaming his name like it was your only chance at salvation. “Well ain’t I just the damn luckiest man in the wastelands right now, got me a pretty little vaultie and she’s a gusher” he said, making you whimper at his teasing but judging by the way he emptied himself inside you for the second time, you took it as a sign that he liked that about you. “Holy shit, I-I didn’t know I could do that” you said, thoroughly shocked with what your brain and body were doing as they almost seemed to almost be working against each other. “Do it again for me” he said, grabbing you and moving you both to where you were straddling him this time. His hands rested on your hips, helping guide you as you speared yourself on his dick with ease from how absolutely soaked you were, making you both throw your head back and moan. “Now that’s a damn good sight” he said, making you lean in to kiss him once more as his hands helped you start and keep a steady rhythm with your hips. It was definitely going to be a long night, but one you two have been needing for months, maybe even longer.

It’s a good thing ghouls have remarkable recovery time, because in order to finally get you sated and back to normal, you both had to spend all night going at it. Granted, it was aided by the mix of pent up sexual tension and pent up sexual frustration, but it was dawn before you both had gotten to a point where you could even *try* and fall sleep. First few times was on the couch between missionary, doggy and you riding him, next was you bent over it, with your pretty legs spread and ass in the air for him. Then, you used the arm rest of the couch as a pillow beneath your hips as he stood up while you laid out on the couch. He liked that one a lot for the way your tits would bounce with each and every forceful thrust into you, jolting your body. After that, it was done standing up with your back pressed against a wall, your legs and arms wrapped around him to keep him deep inside of you and fill you til he had nothing left to give you. From that point on, the rest of the night was all a hormone-hazed blur, but you knew well that he took care of you. You woke up unbelievably sore, your joints aching in places that you had no idea could even ache, a swollen, angry throb between your legs for the harsh, almost punishing treatment to your pussy followed by bruises, bite marks, scratch marks, hand prints etc. littered your skin as you woke up curled into Cooper’s side. You gave a gravelly groan as the sun shone in your eyes through the windows, making him chuckle at the way you were such a ray of sunshine except in the morning. Coming to learn that you absolutely *hated* mornings. Though you suppose you started to enjoy them more since traveling with him. “Mornin’ sunshine” he said coyly, making you groan disapprovingly at the way the sun was in your eyes, making you hold your hand up to cast a shadow on your face and grant you some relief. “Morning” you answered, your voice hoarse and half gone from sleep and all your activities that transpired the previous night. “Ain’t that a pretty sight” he said, turning and seeing you curled up to him, naked, your hair all messy from sleep and the hickeys and bite marks littering your skin, making you chuckle. “Last night was definitely something, can’t believe you’ve been holding all *that* out on me” you joked, making him give a dry laugh. “Could say the same thing about you, sugar. Had no idea that mind a yours could be so filthy. You’re a wild thing to party with, lil’ lady” he teased, sliding his arm around you to keep you close, making you hum as you lay soft, appreciative kisses to his collarbone and chest. “You’re fun too, and thank you for taking care of me last night. I’m sorry that it ended up happening the way that it did, I wanted to work up the courage and tell you some other way, I really did, but I guess life had other plans” you said making him chuckle as he saw you blush when he kissed your head. “Drunk words are sober thoughts they say, so I’d say I made out pretty good. But don’t sweat it, not sure how I deserved someone as good as you, but it’s good to know I ain’t as hard to stomach as most people say” he said, pulling you in for a soft, heartfelt kiss. “I think you are just perfect, Cooper” you said, your hand resting on his scarred chest as you looked at him with that gaze he swore he’d do anything to see pointed his way.

“You really wanna be my girl?” He asked softly, sounding shocked and with some self doubt still lacing his tone, but he had to be sure this was what you wanted outside of the drug’s effects. He cared for you deeply, in a way that he hasn’t felt in a very long time, but maybe you were just the right person for him to finally open his heart up to. His question made you giggle as your heart fluttered in your chest with excitement. “I absolutely do, I meant it when I said it last night, I mean it just as much now. I think we’ve danced around it for long enough, don’t you?” you replied, making him smile the most genuinely happy smile you’ve seen him wear since you’d met. “Just checkin’” he said, before laying a sweet kiss to your lips, wishing every morning could be like this one. Maybe it could, now that you were here with him.

#fallout x reader #fallout smut #fallout #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #sole survivor #cooper howard x you #the ghoul #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #asks

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yandere-daydreams · 3 months

Text

Title: Escapism.

Commissioned by the very lovely @twst-ophelia.

Pairing: Yandere!Dorm Leaders x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 4.0k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Dub/Con, Prolonged Imprisonment, Physical/Psychological Abuse, Slight Marking, Disassociation, and Possessive Behavior.

The mirror would be ready to use, by now.

Really, that’d been your first mistake – forgetting what you’d learned during your first months in this strange new place, having enough faith in the friends you’d made and your own middling abilities to tell anyone and everyone you could find that you were finally going home. You’d been over-eager, blinded by joy, and within a week of Crowly admitting that he’d found a way to return you to your own world using the Magic Mirror, it’d been common knowledge across all of Twisted Wonderland that it’d only be a few more weeks before you were returned to your own world. Ace teased you for being so eager to drop out halfway through your third year and Grim stuck to your side with twice his usual clinginess, and despite the bittersweetness of knowing you’d likely never be able to come back, you were happy. You were alright with leaving them, so long as it meant you could go home.

And you did leave them, in a way. If you looked at it from a certain angle.

You just didn’t get to go home.

There was a wet, slick noise, then a pang of pure agony racing from your cunt to your core. Involuntarily, you jerked away from the painful sensation, but it was an effort made in vain. The heavy arm wrapped around your waist only coiled tighter, your back soon drawn flush against a broad chest. Leona’s tail swatted contentedly at the down-stuffed mattress as he let out a low, airy chuckle. “Not gonna get away that easily,” he muttered, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Remember what happened last time you tried to act-up? I don’t think the basement’s gotten any warmer.”

Basement. Calling it a basement would be like calling him a housecat. You’d been locked in that dark, frigid dungeon of a cellar for days before Azul – because he was the one you scratched, the one who got to decide how cruel your punishment was going to be – let you out, and even then, it’d taken another week of huddling by barely-smoldering fireplaces and wrapping yourself in any shred of fabric you could find to shake the chill that’d lodged itself underneath your skin. You stopped trying to lash out at them, after that. As much as their so-call ‘affection’ scared you, their anger scared you that much more.

You couldn’t be sure how they’d gotten their hands on a place like this – ancient and only a step above decrepit. Their means weren’t exactly limited, not with a prince and the heir to a fortune that might as well have made him royalty funding their little venture, but it was still hard to imagine the people you’d gone to school with keeping you locked inside of an abandoned castle, surrounded only by more woodland than you could ever hope to walk through. It might’ve been more enjoyable (or, bearable, at least) if your captors had taken a more absentee approach, if they’d given you time to adjust to being in the middle of a never-ending forest with only stone walls and dust-covered furniture for company, but no, at least one of them always seemed to be at no more than arm’s length, there to remind you exactly why you’d been relegated to the role of princess, trapped in her tower. You’d never been able to call any of them your friends, and yet, the betrayal still stung.

“Would you keep your mouth shut?” Vil mumbled, with a particularly sharp movement of his wrist. The heel of his palm ground into your clit, and against your better judgement, you withered into Leona – the sound of your pulse beating in your ears deafening, but still not enough to mask the deep, self-satisfied purr rising from his chest. “You’re frightening the poor thing. Look at her eyes – they’re practically glazed over.”

“Is she scared, or just bored half-to-death by your shitty excuse for a handjob?” He bowed his head, nipping playfully at the corner of your jaw. Of all your captors, he was the most fond of marking what he considered to be his property – even more so if he had a captive audience. “If I was the one between her legs, she’d be feelin’ too good to think about anything else. She’d already be fucked good n’ dumb.”

“That’s not—” The air caught in your throat as Vil spread his fingers apart, but you fought to go one. “I don’t feel anything when you—”

Vil pulled out of you entirely, only for his hand to come down on your pussy with a harsh, slick crack. You couldn’t swallow back your pained cry, couldn’t stop yourself from shrinking further into Leona. ��No lying, now, darling. You know how easy it is to hurt his feelings.” He paused, then glanced over his shoulders. Blearily, your attention drifted to the doorway of your bedroom – to Riddle, standing stiffly on the other side other side of the threshold. You stiffened, but Vil didn’t seem surprised. “Going to watch today, Rosehearts?”

Obviously. As complicit as they all seemed with your imprisonment, there were a few – Riddle, Idia, Azul – that withheld from treating your prolonged abuse like a group project. You’d been surprised, at first, that Vil wasn’t a part of that collective, but his tendency towards exhibitionism made sense. He couldn’t love what he couldn’t flaunt, even if his audience was limited to a handful of former classmates.

“O-of course not,” Riddle stuttered out, predictably. His pale face was tinted a nearly violent shade of red. “I just wanted to make sure you two weren’t hurting her.”

You felt Leona’s grin against your throat. “Hear that, pretty girl? He thinks we’d hurt you.” The space Vil left vacant was quickly filled – three of his calloused fingers soon filling your drenched pussy. You clenched your eyes shut, grit your teeth, but that did little to stop him from burrowing his claws into your side and tearing a little, cracked whimper through your sealed lips. “Don’t see him doing much to stop us, though.”

Vil only offered an unimpressed shake of his head, but Riddle straightened. “Are you implying that I couldn’t—”

“I’m saying that you won’t.” Leona cut him off swiftly, the edge in his tone sharped and playful. “Not if you want the next turn.”

For a moment, Riddle didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything.

Then, with a pointed glare, he turned on his heel and abandoned your bedroom altogether, likely dedicating himself to finding another part of this terrible castle to wait Leona out in.

As soon as his footsteps faded out of earshot, Leona’s teeth were buried in the curve of your throat – drawing blood in an instant.

Out of all your captors, it was Kalim who’d disappointed you the most.

You hadn’t expected this from the others, but in hindsight, you wouldn’t put it above them, either. Azul had never been able to draw a line between what he wanted and what he could have, Riddle had never been able to keep his base impulses at bay for very long, and Leona… well, Leona couldn’t be bothered to pretend he was interested in things like your ‘autonomy’ or ‘independence’. Kalim, though – he’d always been nice to you. Not overly kind, but nice, and in a place like NRC, that was something you’d been able to appreciate.

It almost didn’t make sense to see him in a place like this, to connect his presence here with the looming fact of your continual imprisonment. It didn’t make sense that the boy who’d once thrown a parade to celebrate you finally accepting an invitation to one of his banquets would be resting his hands on your shoulders, his eyes fixed on your reflection in a pearl-lined vanity as he pulled what felt like the hundredth gem-studded necklace into place at the base of your throat. You didn’t need jewelry. They rarely gave you anything to wear outside of loose-fitting, sheer dresses and the occasional piece of lingerie, but Kalim would’ve plucked the moon from the sky if it meant he could give it to you in a velvet-lined box. That was what he’d told you, at least, the first time you’d turned him down.

Actually, maybe you didn’t deserve to feign surprise. They’d all tried to do it the right way before their graduations, whether it was Vil beckoning you to sit on his lap during a dorm leader meeting or Riddle turning a dozen shades of pink as he asked if you’d care to attend an Unbirthday Party as his guest, sometime. You’d turned them all down, batting Leona’s hand away before it could settle on your shoulder, telling Azul you wouldn’t trust him as a business partner, let alone a boyfriend. Between school and a new apocalypse-scenario every other week, you never had the time (let alone the energy or desire) to date, as idiotic as it sounded to suggest that any of this could’ve started with a handful of schoolyard crushes. Maybe, if you’d given them a chance to see that it wouldn’t have worked out on their own terms, it wouldn’t have come to this. Maybe, you would’ve gotten to go home.

Or, maybe, you just would’ve been snatched up before that thread of hope could ever be dangled in front of you. Either way, a preferable alternative.

“The sapphires were a better fit,” Azul chimed in as Kalim pulled the next necklace into place – a loose riviere studded with rubies. It was the fifth of as many variants, only differentiated by the color of the jewel. Kalim claimed that he’d only meant to get you one, but ever the glutton, he hadn’t been able to choose. “Red is such a garish color. Our little princess deserves to feel as royal as we treat her, doesn’t she?”

If Kalim noticed the barb, he didn’t seem to mind. “I think you look beautiful in red,” he said, leaning down to push a kiss into your temple. His smile was as bright as it’d ever been, and you hated him that much more for it. “Then again, you look beautiful in everything. Why don’t you keep them all?”

You opened your mouth, ready to tell him where he could shove his jewelry, but you were cut off by the shutter of a camera, the hint of a flash in your peripheral. You glanced towards Azul, who only shrugged in response., sinking further into his armchair “For Idia. He’s going to be tied up with a research project for another week or so, and for whatever reason, it’s fallen on my shoulders to make sure that he doesn’t completely succumb to his self-pity and throw the gates of Tartarus open.” He thought, for a moment. “For a second time, I mean.”

You couldn’t be sure why you said it. It was an instinct, a knee-jerk reaction to grab the first blade you saw and twist it. Idia was, by far, the most distant of your captors, and when he did show his face, he barely spoke and never touched you. Even in a castle of rapists and kidnappers, he’d found a way to make himself an outsider.

“Azul?” You made a point of keeping your eyes on your reflection as you went on. “Could you tell Idia I want to see him again? When he has time, I mean.”

There was a beat of silence, then another.

Finally, Kalim forced out an only partially strained laugh, squeezing your shoulders with just a little too much force. “Is something wrong? If you want to ask for something, you don’t have to wait for Idia.”

You didn’t bother trying to respond to him. “Please, Azul?”

From the corner of your eye, you watched him glance between you and Kalim. Eventually, he let out an airy sigh and nodded. “Of course, sweetheart. Although, I do have to wonder what you’re getting up to.”

Your only answer came in the form of a tight smile, a slight shrug. Kalim didn’t waste time taking up the next necklace: a choker of braided strands of pure, glittering gold. This time, he fastened it tightly enough to bruise.

You almost felt bad for Idia, when you let yourself think about what you were doing.

Almost.

The bare skin of his chest was warm under your palm, the flames of his hair tinted a deep pink - a color you might’ve found charming, in any other situation. He was beneath you, currently, his face half-buried in a pillow while you rolled your hips idly against his, your pace slow and careless. He wasn’t as authoritative as Leona, as demanding as Riddle, and you liked that about him. But, his submissiveness meant you had to do most of the work, which you liked less.

At least he tried to pretend that he didn’t like it. Bias caused conflict, and his occasional encounters with the others wilted before shriveling into complete nonexistence shortly after you declared him your unlikely favorite. Even now, he kept his eyes clenched shut, his bottom lip caught between his pointed teeth as your pussy clenched around him. You’d gone numb to pleasure in the first weeks of your captivity, but any amount of physical contact seemed to overwhelm him. It might’ve been refreshing, if you hadn’t been so, so exhausted.

Gradually, your movements slowed, your body stilling on top of his. A second passed before he opened one of his eyes, his kiss-swollen lips quirking downward in mixed disappointment and frustration. “W-Why did you stop?”

With an exaggerated sigh, you collapsed onto him, slotting your chest against his and propping your chin on his collarbone. “I never made it to graduate,” you said, absentmindedly, relying on the haze of lust to hide just how flat your voice was. “Never got to say goodbye to anyone, either, but that was never going to happen. The other are too mean to me for that.”

His expression took on a somber lull. It might’ve been more believable if you hadn’t been able to feel his cock twitching inside of you. “I… I’m sorry. I wanted to wait, but Azul said— and Leona—”

“I know, I know.” You kissed his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “It’s not your fault. I just—”

You cut yourself off with another sigh, just as unbelievable as the first. Thankfully, Idia was eager to take the bait. “Whatever it is, I can do it for you. I’d do anything for you.” His shaking hands found their way to your waist. “I love you.”

“I want to see Ramshackle again,” you said, without hesitation. Immediately, you felt him stiffen against you, and let your tone drag into something desperate, something pleading. “Just this once. I won’t even go inside, and Night Raven’s on break, right now. No one’s going to be on campus.” You paused, pecked the corner of his lips. “Please, Idia. Nobody else has to know.”

He still looked skeptical, but he was going to break your heart, he wasn’t going to do it while his cock was still pulsing inside of you. After only a moment of hesitation, he let out a shallow breath and nodded hastily. “One trip. And the other never find out.”

Instantly, you brightened, beaming as you pulled him into a deep, lasting kiss – a proper kiss, this time, something you’d never willingly imitated with any of your captors. He would know that. He wasn’t the most domineering, but if the hidden cameras dotted across your bedroom were anything to go by, he had his own kind of competitive streak.

A hitched moan reverberated against your mouth. With your arms still wrapped around his neck, your chest still pressed into his, he started to move on his own – his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust into you from below. His pace was unsteady, his rhythm nonexistent, but your clit scraped against the flattened plane of his pubic bone and however meager it might’ve been, there was just enough stimulation to melt into. Vaguely, you were aware of a distant whimpering, of Idia’s face buried in the crook of your neck, but you let it fade into the background – into the constant fog of static that’d been cast over your conscious mind since you woke up in this terrible place.

When you felt his teeth scrape over the curve of your throat, it was all you could do to close your eyes and think of home.

“It’s a pretty basic teleportation scheme,” he’d explained, as he led you through the castle’s entryway after pulling you out of your bed in the middle of the night. The winter air cut through your thin dress without mercy, but you’d fought not to shiver, not to give him a reason to second-guess if he should be doing this. Right now, he was convinced he loved you more than he feared letting you get away, and you couldn’t do anything to break that delusion. “Ortho handled most of the hardware, but he was following my designs. The NRC waypoint was supposed to be a limited-time mechanic, but I never cut it out of the system. It should still work – for a couple trips, at least.”

You’d let him ramble about how many hours it’d taken to put together, nodded enthusiastically as he described all the effort he’d poured into ruining your life. He kept his hand locked around yours as he led you onto a shining, steel platform, only letting go to punch the coordinates into his tablet. There was a flash of light, a slight buzzing in your ears, and then, you were standing in front of the gates to Night Raven College, already open and waiting for your arrival.

You didn’t wait for Idia to move, to say anything. Rather, you let the gem shard (pilfered from one of Kalim’s more recent attempts to win back your attention; the jewel in its entirety had been larger than your balled fist) that you’d stowed away in your sleeve fall into your hand and stabbed the jagged end into his back. You didn’t wait to see if the wound took before breaking into a sprint towards the Hall of Mirrors.

You’d be able to see, later on, that it was far from the best idea you’d ever had. There was a good chance Crowley abandoned any work he might’ve started as soon as you went missing, if he really had found a way to send you hope at all. The injury you’d dealt to Idia was far from fatal, and you’d be in for more than just a few days in the cellar if they caught you, but the desire to get out of here, to go home drowned out your better judgement – leaving your tired mind empty and your body dependent on pure, unadulterated desperation as you ran towards the familiar, pitch-black dome on the outskirts of campus. Your skirt snagged on roots and twigs, your bare feet numb and aching in-turns, but you didn’t dare to slow down, to look behind you. By the time you reached the Hall of Mirrors, your throat was dry, your heart beating in your ears. Thankfully, the door had been left unlocked, and you shouldered your way inside.

The Magic Mirror stood, dark and stoic, in the center of the room. You allowed yourself a single breath of relief, a moment to let the past few months— no, the past three years of your life melt away before moving toward it.

You made it all of two, three steps before something sprung from the darkness and wrapped around your ankle – cutting into your flesh and, with a sudden jerk, dragging you to the floor. You stifled a scream, reflexively moving to tear at your new restraints, but froze when you saw exactly what you were caught in.

A thick braid of vines wrapped around your leg – except they weren’t vines, not really.

They were briars.

Rows upon rows of hooked thorns were embedded into the skin of your calf, drawing blood wherever they made contact. The pain was instant, searing, but you didn’t care – tearing at your bondage even as the thorns bit into your hands, as the rope of briars drew that much tighter. Tears blurred your vision, and so distracted by your own misery and panic, you almost didn’t notice the sound of clipped heels against marble floors, the dark shadow that soon blocked out what little light you had. You didn’t have to look at him. You already knew who it was.

In the end, though, you weren’t given much of a choice.

You really should’ve been more used to that, by now.

A gloved hand caught you by the chin, forcing you to tilt your head back and meet Malleus’ expectant, prying stare. He took a moment to evaluate your ragged dress, the bruising and love-bites painted down your neck before a small smile came to rest over his lips; the barest hint of pointed teeth catching in the moonlight. “And to think, I thought it was only nostalgia drawing me back to this lonely place.” He spared a glance toward the mirror. “And I suppose you plan to use that ancient thing to return to your own world?”

“Malleus,” you gasped his name, hoping that would be enough to communicate the depths of your despair. “I don’t have a lot of time, I— They’re coming for me, and—” You cut yourself off, swallowing harshly. “I want to go home.”

His only response came in the form of a low hum, dull and dismissive. All it took was a snap of his fingers, a certain glint in his narrowed eyes, and the mirror shattered into more pieces than you could ever hope to put back together.

This time, you couldn’t swallow back the ragged sob that tore past your lips, the pathetic noise echoing off the stone walls. You tried to crawl towards the fractured pieces, but Malleus kneeled to your height, letting out a patronizing coo as he wrapped an arm around your midriff, pulling you against his chest and suffocating any possible hope you might’ve had for escape. Distantly, you were aware of a rush of footsteps, of a collar (as heavy as it was useless) snapping shut around your neck, but Malleus didn’t falter. With your limp body in his arms, he pushed himself to his feet, turning to face your captors where they’d clustered in the entryway.

It was Leona who spoke first, predictably. He never could let anyone else be the center of attention. “What do you want, Draconia?”

Malleus, on the other hand, was in no rush, letting his gaze fall back to you. “I was surprised, when I heard of her disappearance. I know how fragile mortal lives could be, but I thought, surely, a human who’d befriended so many powerful mages ought to be a little more enduring.”

After he finished, silence hung heavy in the air. Vil summoned his spell book, and Kalim’s fists clenched at his sides, his jealousy threatening to outweigh his pacifistic nature. None of it would’ve made a difference. If Malleus wanted to, he could reduce them all to ash with little more than a wayward thought. If Malleus wanted to, he wouldn’t need five other conspirators to have you at his mercy.

And yet, he only let out a breath of a laugh, holding you that much closer to his chest. “Then again, if I’d known those powerful mages would struggle to keep watch of such a precious item, I might’ve been less generous.”

“Get to the point.”

This time, he chose to obey. “It seems,” he started, bowing his head and letting his lips brush against your cheek. “As if you’re having trouble keeping this little one in line.”

His grin was wider and more satisfied than you’d ever seen it, before. Looking at him, you could only wonder how you have bothered trying to survive in a world that so clearly wasn’t meant for you.

“Would you consider making use of another pair of hands?”

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finelinevogue · 11 months

Text

baby fever

summary - it’s wembley night one and you are really warm and pregnant

word count: ~1k

pairing: husband!harry x pregnant!reader

a/n: you can count on an anxious ellie the night before her harry concert to pull through with a blurb

Backstage was chaos.

A good chaos though. The night of a show is always so hectic backstage. A good buzz of people rushing for final checks and enjoying a drink in efforts of their hard work putting the show together.

Mitch was tending to Sarah and their baby.

Madi was vocally preparing for her big moment.

Jeff was here, on the phone as always.

Harry was nowhere to be seen.

And you. Well you couldn’t move far with the size of your baby bump anymore.

Not only was the baby bump heavy to carry, but also made your body ten times warmer than normal. In this heat too, it was not a fun experience.

If you knew where Harry was right now you’d thump him on the head for knocking you up. How dare he.

This was all jokes though and you actually have thoroughly enjoyed being pregnant. Getting tended to and loved on a little extra from Harry made everything worth it. It was no lie that you and Harry were excited. You just had to make it through these tough days first.

Harry had left you in his dressing room, surrounded by fans to help cool you down.

However, he’s been gone for an hour now and the fans aren’t doing anything to help your body temperature cool. Being pregnant in this heat is disgusting.

So, after a good ten minutes manoeuvring, you moved to the bathroom instead, where the tiles were cold.

Now you’re laying on your back, like a starfish, as you attempt to cool yourself down better with the cold tiles.

You’d think this stadium would have air-con…

The tiles weren’t really working either, but they were better than the fans.

“Babe?!” Harry called out from the dressing room, most likely worried for your whereabouts.

He walked in the bathroom moments later, his panicked face slowly disappearing after finding you. He leant against the doorframe on one arm and crossed his legs over as he stood smiling over you.

“Don’t laugh.” You said, eyes closed to try and focus on coming your body down.

Your eyes closed meant that you missed Harry taking a quick photo of you to add to his pregnancy photo album of you.

“I’m not.” He replied.

“You’re definitely smiling. I can feel it.” You said and Harry laughed at that, making his tiny giggle that had your insides fluttering.

“Shut up you.” Harry giggled. “Are you okay down there, baby?” He asked to make sure.

Next thing you know, before you’ve even replied, Harry is knelt down next to you in his shorts and tshirt. One of his hands rests on your belly, whilst your other goes to brush over your forehead.

“Don’t touch me.” You said, eyes still closed to the world.

“That’s something I don’t hear very often.”

“Yeah and it’s also the reason I’m in this predicament right now.”

Harry can sense you rolling your eyes even with them shut.

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“Control the weather better next time.” You replied, making him laugh again.

“Do you want to move or get some water?”

“No and no.”

“Please? At least some water? For me?” He persisted and even though you really didn’t want to move, you knew he was right in making you have some water.

Harry doesn’t really give you the option and instead moves to fetch a water bottle for you.

When he brings it back, you sit up a little with the help of Harry. Harry tilts the bottle for you, as you hold you body up by your hands.

Once you’ve done, Harry sits his back against the wall and motions for you to sit on the opposite side. He would really love for you to be cuddled up against him right now, but he knows that wouldn’t be the best idea for you or your baby.

Now he can see your eyes, he is much happier. Your eyes show him that you’re still happy, regardless of this horrible weather. That sparkle in your eyes is there because of him.

“Thank you.” You tell him, for the water. “Feel like a sausage on a barbecue.”

“A sexy sausage.”

You huff out a chuckle, “I’m too exhausted to even be grossed out by that.”

“Well that just confirms that you’re not 100% yourself, lovie.” Harry laughed.

“I apologise in advance if I can’t make it out for your set, H.” You pout and Harry shakes his head at you.

“Absolutely not. No apologies. I want you and baby safe, okay? You go at your own pace.”

“Might make it in time just to go crazy at Kiwi.”

“So, you mean just nodding your head?” Harry teased you because he knows you really can’t move very much with the big baby bump.

“Maybe even tap my foot.” You carried on the joke.

“Oh jheez babe. Don’t overdo it.”

You smile and Harry copies you.

“I love you. I’m so fucking proud of you.” You tell him.

“It’s funny how I’m about to play a sold out stadium and yet I’m more proud of myself for finding you and becoming a parent with you.”

You hum in delight over his words.

Harry chuckled, moving forward to bend and kiss your bump gently, “I love you baby.” He says as he leans up and finds your lips next, “And I guess you’re okay too.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fluff #harry styles dad #dadrry #harry styles wembley

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cherienymphe · 5 months

Text

Basic Training XVII (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, mentions of MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @whimsicalrogers

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

You stared into the darkness of the basement for what felt like too long.

It was quiet down there, but not the kind of quiet that felt comforting. It was the kind of silence that felt suffocating—taunting. It was so loud in its taunting, snickering at you and your idiocy and naivety. Even as you laid on the floor, feeling like the lowest of jokes, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret the decisions that brought you here.

Nat was your friend. Or at least, you liked to consider her one, and even faced with the threat of the worst punishment Steve could muster, you just couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything differently. You couldn’t imagine yourself waking Peter up that night and telling him you saw the redhead escaping, effectively alerting the other husbands to her presence, leading to her subsequent capture. It just wasn’t in you, and clearly none of these men—not even Peter—knew you at all if they thought it was.

The first time you tried to move, you couldn’t, and for a brief moment, you thought that Steve had injured you in his delight to toss you down the stairs like a sack of flour instead of a person. However, you quickly came to realize that wasn’t the case. You could move your fingers and toes fine, even twitch your leg, but you just couldn’t find the strength to move. You felt beyond defeated, and when you blinked, you weren’t shocked to feel a sting behind your eyes.

There was the most awful aching feeling in your chest, both heavy and hollow even though you didn’t know how that was possible. You wanted to cry and scream, but you also never wanted to utter another word ever again. You wanted to let out everything you felt since the moment you came here, but in the same breath, you desperately wanted to feel numb. If you didn’t feel a thing, then you couldn’t get hurt, and you hurt so much, right now.

Peter killed Michelle.

He didn’t help kill her, but he did kill her, and in the grand scheme of things, maybe that shouldn’t make a difference. After all, you’d still been under the impression that he did nothing while his brothers did. You’d still been under the belief that he allowed it to happen at best and helped it happen and cover it up at worst. So, why did Peter pulling the trigger make all the difference in the world to you?

Was it because you thought you were falling in love with him?

That thought had you squeezing your eyes shut, so tight that it hurt, and it was hard to hold back your sob. Your nails scraped against the hard floor as you shook, struggling to breathe as your stomach turned. Once you started it was so hard to stop, and it wasn’t long before the sound of your choked cries were filling the basement. It was a thought you’d considered before, but that was when he wasn’t a murderer.

That was when he hadn’t murdered your best friend.

How could you possibly rationalize it now? Deep down, you knew that this wasn’t your fault. Deep down you knew that there were names and studies dedicated to people in your position and the psychology behind it, but that didn’t make you feel any better. Peter had murdered your friend in cold blood…

…and you thought you loved him.

The thought made you want to be sick, and with horror, you could actually feel your stomach turning. You hurried to sit up, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth as you struggled to keep it down. The bathroom only some feet away was locked—wouldn’t be unlocked until someone came down to open it and let you in—and you didn’t think you could handle sitting in a room with your vomit just stewing in the corner.

Struggling to get to your feet, you pressed your other hand to your stomach, trying to settle it. Keeping your mouth closed, you breathed through your nose, lashes fluttering, and after some time, you slowly stumbled towards where you knew the bed to be. You didn’t care about turning on the light, finding no need, and when you sat down, your head drooped in defeat.

There was really no telling how long they’d keep you in here until they figured out what to do with you, and while you knew that Peter would try his damndest to get them to go easy on you, you also knew that they wouldn’t consider a word that left his mouth. You—and also Peter by extension—had proven Steve and the others right, and you found it unlikely they’d ever listen to another suggestion from Peter about you ever again. Or at the very least, not for a long time.

Besides, Peter wasn’t the aggrieved party.

Bucky was, and such a thought made you shudder. You’d done well to avoid attracting Bucky’s ire even though he reminded you of Steve in some ways. Although, unlike Steve, Bucky didn’t seem the type to look for any and every excuse to punish you as he’d prefer in a contrast to Peter’s methods. Bucky seemed—if nothing else—fair to you, and that’s what scared you the most.

Bucky now felt wronged by you.

So, there was really no telling what was in store for you.

You recalled the way he’d reached for you, desperately trying to get past Peter in his efforts to get his hands on you. You didn’t want to imagine what he would’ve done had he succeeded, and you swallowed as your mind went rampant with the possibilities. Your hand came up to graze the tear in your sleeve, wincing at the slight sting you felt when your finger came in contact with the skin. Some part of you knew that had Bucky succeeded, he just might have killed you in his rage, and where you once would’ve welcomed such a thought…

It only made your heart ache, now.

You didn’t want to die, and when you thought about why, your stomach only twisted into knots once again. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you keeled over, throat tight as you tried to swallow down another sob. Your chest hurt so much, feeling like someone had an iron grip on your heart and was just squeezing and twisting it to their content. When you gasped, a cry escaped with it, and the only other time you could recall feeling like this was the day you realized your friends were dead and you were all alone.

You cried until your throat felt raw, and you didn’t fight your body as it started to collapse to the floor, sliding off of the bed in a heap. Covering your face with your hands, your lightly dragged your nails down your skin, frame shaking as you rocked back and forth. Your stomach wouldn’t stop hurting, and you couldn’t stop shaking. In fear or anger or despair—you didn’t know.

You did know that this was all Peter’s fault. He was the one who decided he had to have you, as if you were some thing to be acquired instead of a human being with a life and feelings and autonomy. If it weren’t for him, your friends would still be alive, and you wouldn’t even be here. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be feeling ripped apart by how you felt about the man who kidnapped and raped you. All of this was Peter’s fault…and even still…more than anything…

All you wanted was for him to hold you.

It was hard to say how long you stayed in the basement. The darkness and silence was endless, and it felt like months, but in reality, it was probably mere days. You did know that it was long enough for your stomach to ache from more than just fear and for your nightgown to stink from more than just sweat. You didn’t think you were capable of feeling embarrassed about that anymore. After all, Peter never made you feel like it was something to be embarrassed about, but that was before you heard the sound of the locks on the basement door.

Despite your shame, you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

Until the light from the top of the stairs outlined a familiar silhouette.

You merely stared at him as he stood on the first step, yours on him and his eyes on you. You couldn’t hear any noise coming from the main part of the house, and you said nothing when he closed the door behind him. Peter wasn’t good. You knew that since the beginning when he told you that everything he did was so that he could have you, making it all okay. Peter had never been good.

So, why did looking at him now hurt so much more than it ever had?

As soon as Peter was close enough, the first thing he did was take your face into his hands. You couldn’t really feel them, realizing that you got your wish to feel numb, and that just made your chest ache more. Just days ago you were desperate to feel the comfort of Peter’s touch, and now you couldn’t feel it, at all.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured, face a mere inch away from yours.

When you didn’t say anything back, you noticed the way his face fell, lips pressed together as he eyed you. His gaze lingered on yours for the longest, thumbs just grazing your skin, and you watched the way his tongue darted out to swipe between his lips.

“We need to get you cleaned up.”

His words had you blinking, and it was only then did you notice the fresh dress resting on the crook of his arm. You didn’t ask him what day it was because it didn’t matter. You only knew what would be happening today, and it’s why the dress on Peter’s arm was so pretty. It was why you’d been locked in the basement for days. It was why Peter looked at you the way he did as he helped you stand.

“I’m so sorry,” were the words he murmured into your hair as soon as he leaned you against him.

What was he apologizing for exactly? For killing Michelle or lying to you about it? For taking you and ruining your life in the first place? Or for failing to protect you from the wrath of the other husbands? Maybe he was apologizing for what was to come, and that made you shut your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again as he brought your head to rest in the crook of his neck.

You didn’t respond—didn’t know how to—only allowing him to guide you into the bathroom after unlocking it. You couldn’t really say how you got naked, only feeling as if you blinked before finding yourself sitting in a tub of hot water with Peter raining water down over your head. He was talking to you, saying something that went in one ear and out of the other. All you could focus on was that dress on the toilet, wondering what they planned to make you do while wearing it.

When you felt the weight of Peter’s gaze, it was only then did you take note of the silence. You didn’t know if he’d asked you a question or if he simply opted to stare at you, but when his hand came up to graze the side of your face, you assumed it was the latter. Perusing you, you watched as his gaze became distracted by the shallow scrape on your arm from Bucky’s nails, and when Peter’s jaw tightened, you knew that he realized where it came from too.

“Peter,” you softly forced out, throat tight.

He gave you his undivided attention, and you licked your lips.

“What are they going to do to me?”

Your question came out almost inaudible, just barely above a whisper as you found yourself almost too afraid to ask—too fearful to want to know. When Peter’s face fell some, your own frown deepened, and when he sighed, your heart sank.

“I don’t… I don’t know,” he slowly told you, and you could see that he was telling the truth.

You knew that Peter would have no say in this, you’d known that, but faced with the knowledge that was completely in the dark only served to make your stomach twist more. Only this time, you weren’t able to stop it, and it was Peter who kept you from falling as you hurried to get out of the tub. You only just made it to the toilet in time, and with nothing in your stomach to throw up, all you expelled was bile.

One of Peter’s hands were on your waist, the other soothingly rubbing your back as you vomited again. With every heave of your stomach, you shook more and more, and when you were done, you could only stare at the wall behind the toilet.

“You’re sick,” he said, tone strained with worry.

You shook your head.

“No, I’m just… I’m scared,” you honestly told him, lifting your gaze to meet his. “…and heartbroken.”

Peter sadly tilted his head, and your lips quivered.

“Why did you lie to me?” you breathed. “Why did you…? Why did you minimize your part in it?”

You continued before Peter could lie some more.

“Why did you hold me and comfort me and tell me you weren’t as bad as them when you’re much worse?”

“I’m not,” he argued, grabbing your shoulder.

“…but you are,” you said with a frown. “At least with Steve and Tony and Bucky I know who they are. I fear them because they’ve shown me why I should.”

Peter pulled you closer, resting your head on his chest as he rocked you.

“You made me love you.”

The words came out small and choked, your face crumbling as Peter stilled, and you’d stupidly thought you had no more tears left. Your body proved you wrong, frame shaking as your chest tightened, a cry escaping you in the otherwise quiet bathroom. Peter didn’t respond right away, just holding you as you cried.

“I’m still the same person I was before you found out,” he whispered, rocking you. “…the same person you begged to run away with.”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I’m not proud of what I did,” he confessed. “…but it’s why I can hold you every night for as long as I want.”

He leaned down to gently kiss your forehead, and your vacant and tearful gaze was on the bathtub, now.

“You don’t have to agree with it, even I don’t agree with it, but it had to be done if I wanted you all to myself.”

You knew that justified it all in Peter’s mind, and the part of your brain that was conditioned to normalize your new reality wanted to pull him closer, but the part that desperately missed your friends and family and old life only wanted to be sick.

When Peter rinsed you off and dried you, his fingers grazed your skin as he helped you get dressed. Soothing words left his lips that didn’t really mean much because how could he calm you against something that was unknown to him too? He didn’t even know what he was comforting you from. Once dressed, he stood before you, looking you over with his fingers grazing over yours.

When your eyes met his, his gaze softened, and you didn’t stop him when he leaned in to press his lips to the corner of your mouth. Like every touch and kiss of his, now, you didn’t really feel it, and when Peter pulled away, you felt that the numbness that consumed you reflected in your own gaze. He heaved a sigh, fingering the ring on your finger.

“I still love you,” he assured you, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “That’ll never change…and even… Even when I have to do whatever it is I have to do today, I’ll be doing it with love.”

Those words didn’t exactly comfort you, and your eyes briefly closed when he walked you out of the bathroom. The stairs were hard to take, courtesy of your lack of food and what little sleep you’d managed to get. You shook beside Peter, and you knew that it was from more than just not eating. In fact, you were sure you were going to throw up again.

The house was unusually quiet—as well as empty—and that did nothing to alleviate your uneasiness. Peter’s hold on your hand was gentle, and as much you loved to hate him in this moment, you appreciated that he walked outside with you instead of walking you outside like a prisoner. You were surprised by how early it was in the day, bringing your hand up to shield your eyes from the rising sun. Days in the darkness had them hurting from the harsh natural light.

Just as you got used to it, a familiar and intimidating voice spoke.

“Leave her right there.”

Only, it wasn’t the voice you were used to being on the receiving end of. Your eyes met familiar blue ones as Peter was forced to step away from you, Bucky’s gaze very much transparent as he looked at you. His anger and disgust were palpable, and you found that you couldn’t hold his gaze.

That was a mistake.

“You will look at me,” he sneered, hurrying over to you and harshly gripping your chin.

Behind him, you could see Peter take a step forward only to be stopped by Sam. Bucky’s fingers were painfully pressing into your skin, and as difficult as you found it, you held the brunette’s gaze. It was in that moment that you realized why the house had seemed so quiet on your way out. You noted that the only person missing was Jane, and you guessed with her pregnancy and a need for someone to watch Margaret and Sharon’s children, they decided to kill two birds with one stone.

They clearly didn’t want to stress her, and that only made you more fearful of what was in store for you.

“We’re not stupid, you know,” Bucky said to you, and you swallowed. “We expect the odd escape attempt here and there.”

You weren’t used to being on the receiving end of Bucky’s venomous gaze, blue eyes icy.

“We look forward to it even,” he confessed. “None of you will ever succeed, so it helps you realize that, and you get it out of your systems.”

You blinked back tears, and Bucky took note of them, lip curling over his teeth.

“In fact…we had been anticipating yours from the moment we let you out of that basement, but I guess you really were too docile to fight back properly,” he continued, voice growing bitter. “Too docile even to tell one of us when our wife was trying to escape.”

When you blinked again, a tear finally escaped, and you didn’t know if you were supposed to respond. Evidently you were.

“What?” Bucky wondered, roughly letting your chin go. “Nothing to say for yourself?”

Your chest heaved with a deep breath, and you started to glance around.

“No, don’t look at them. Look at me,” Bucky ordered. “After all, it was my wife who anything could’ve happened to.”

When your gaze met his again, more tears spilled over, and you sniffed.

“I’m sorry-.”

“We expect you to fight back…try and make a run for it… What we don’t expect is more loyalty to a traitorous wife than the men of the house,” he interrupted you, spitting the words out and making you flinch. “…because anything could come of that. You could kill one of us.”

“I… I’m sorry,” you said again, knowing it wouldn’t change anything but also knowing it was what he wanted to hear.

Bucky stared at you for a long time—too long—just looking down his nose at you as if he could barely stand to look at you. You were all too aware of the eyes on you, all too aware of the example being made out of you. You were in the dark about what was going to happen, now, and it made you want to be sick. However, of all the things you expected…

You didn’t expect Bucky to quickly grab your arm, twisting it—and you with his other arm—before violently shoving you to the ground. It happened so fast that when you finally cried out in pain, clutching your wrist, you were already looking up at him from the grass. He wasn’t looking at you though, hands behind his back as he stepped away from you.

“There are two outcomes for you today,” he started, making his way towards Peter who looked like he was moments away from committing murder—again. “Personally, I’m partial to either outcome…”

When you started to push yourself to your feet, the dark-haired man heard it, pausing to look at you with a wag of his finger.

“No, no. You don’t get up yet…”

Heart sinking, you sat back down, clutching your arm to you as you looked between him and Peter.

“The first,” he dragged out, resting a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “We finally get to see what Peter has in him…”

You froze, skin growing cold and heart dropping to your gut.

“…see if he has what it takes to make you…” Bucky turned his gaze to you, eyes glinting wickedly “…beg him to stop.”

You couldn’t stop more tears from spilling over, the realization of what this day could possibly bring crashing down on you like a wave. When you glanced over, your eyes met a familiar green pair, and Nat’s disgust and regret was plain as day on her face. She looked at you like she wanted to take your place in a heartbeat, but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen.

You couldn’t hold in your sob, pressing your hand to your mouth.

“You can’t cry, now,” Bucky’s voice reached you as he neared you. “We haven’t even started yet.”

He forced you to your feet, and his hands were the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

When you first got here, Peter promised that that would never be you. He told you that he would never, but considering the circumstances of your offense, that choice was no longer up to him. You couldn’t stop sobbing, choking noises climbing out of your throat as Bucky continued.

“The other option is two months in the basement.”

When your eyes met Bucky’s again, there was a gleam in his eye and a curve to his lips that told you it wouldn’t be so easy as choosing which you’d prefer. You didn’t even want to say that the choice would be easy if given one because while your worst fear was recreating what Margaret had to go through during your first days here…you also knew that two months down in that darkness would break you beyond belief.

Two months down there, and you were sure you wouldn’t even be yourself when you emerged.

“It all depends on who gets to you first,” Bucky softly said, making you frown at him.

When he stepped away, you swayed on your feet, but his hand met your arm again when he turned you towards the small pond, free arm gesturing towards the dense trees behind it.

“Those legs that are near and dear to Peter’s heart are going to take you as far as you can go…”

His whispered words made you frown.

“Now, don’t think that you’re getting away…” he looked at you and you slowly looked at him. “…because you’re not. Someone will catch you, it’s only a matter of who, and that determines if this pretty little dress is coming off or not.”

His reminder of one of the possibilities made you lightheaded, and you pressed your hand to your chest when he walked away.

“If Peter catches you, then Peter will do what he has been instructed to do…”

The man in question spoke up, quietly pleading with Bucky, but the older man ignored him.

“…and I was going to participate in this little game,” Bucky said, jaw ticking as he looked at you. “…but you deserve to be terrified after what you did.”

You pressed your lips together, blinking away tears as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“So…” he backed up, a small smile on his pink lips. “If Steve catches you…”

You couldn’t stop your knees from buckling, world spinning as you caught yourself on your hands and knees. Your skin pricked, and you felt almost on the verge of a heart attack.

“He gets to put you in the basement…” a pause. “Again.”

The sounds of the world were going in and out, and once again, you felt like you were going to throw up. Both options were the last thing you ever wanted, and once you ran into those trees, you didn’t know what would relieve you less—the sight of Peter or the sight of Steve. It was sick, really, because obviously you would rather be caught by Peter, but not if it meant…that.

…and if Steve caught you, you just knew it wasn’t going to be that simple

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Bucky’s words were mocking, filled with a mixture of disdain and satisfaction, and as you looked up at him, you didn’t know who you hated more—him or Steve. The blond in question was someone you had avoided looking at since you stepped outside, bitter to see the sick satisfaction that no doubt covered his features at your humiliation.

Your comeuppance.

Pushing yourself to your feet was a struggle, and you didn’t look at Peter, too afraid to realize that he might be who you wanted to catch you, after all, even if it did mean public humiliation beyond comprehension. You felt beyond alone as you walked down the small decline, the dewy grass so nice against the soles of your feet despite the circumstances.

It was only when you got to the tree line, staring inside, did it hit you.

You were going to be hunted and chased down like some animal, and depending on who caught you first, that was what your punishment would be. Both options were enough to make your stomach flip, and for the life of you, you just couldn’t decide which was better. With a panicked sob, you forced your feet to move.

Every tree looked just like the other to you, and there was nothing in these woods to signal some kind of progress as you ran. It was crazy to think that there had once been days when you dreamed about being in these woods, closer to freedom and away from the craziness you’d been forced into. Now, however, you were in said trees and all you could think about was who would get to you first.

Bucky’s words echoed in your mind.

It wasn’t a matter of whether either of them would catch you. Both of you knew that you weren’t getting away from here, let alone from Peter or Steve in these woods. One of them was going to find you first, and even as you brushed past harmful branches and stumbling vines, you still didn’t know which choice presented to you was better. More than anything, you wanted it to be Peter to find you, but could you be okay with being raped for the whole household to see? This wasn’t like that day with Margaret…

Both Steve and Bucky wanted to make the biggest example out of you, and so the entire household would be there to witness your humiliation. However…it was one day. One hour even at the most of Peter doing what he normally did whenever you were alone…just in front of everyone else. If Steve caught you on the other hand…

Two months in the basement was a thought that actually made your knees shake, causing you to stumble against a tree. You knew—you knew—that you couldn’t handle that, and you knew that Peter knew it too. One option was just one bad day, that was all, but the other option would turn you into even more of a mess than you already were. You’d spent less than a week down there at the most, and both times were hell for you.

The second more so than the worst, and you didn’t want to unpack why that was.

When you heard a tree branch snap, you felt yourself freezing. The tree you were next to was larger, much larger than you, and you remained perfectly still as your hand rested against it. You had only stopped for a few moments, and the whole time you’d been lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t even heard any footsteps. In fact, something in you told you that you were supposed to hear the snap of that branch.

When you dared to peek around the trunk, all of your breath left you.

The sight of Steve’s blond hair and back was a stomach turning one, and just as quietly as you peeked around, you hid yourself behind the tree once more. With one movement, you could end this torture and not have to be fucked for the whole household to see, but no matter how much you didn’t want that…you couldn’t bring yourself to move.

…because you didn’t want the alternative either.

Steve terrified you beyond belief—something Bucky had acknowledged—and something in you just knew that he wasn’t going to find you and take you back to the house as easy as that. Outside of raping Margaret, you had never heard of Steve doling out any kind of physical abuse, but you had a sneaking suspicion that Steve would strike you square across the face if he could get away with it.

Peeking around the tree again, you watched him walk away, scanning the area before him for any sign of you. Your nails pressed into the trunk, and with a sinking heart, you both accepted and hoped that Peter would find you, making peace with what that meant for you. With Steve completely out of your sight, you didn’t know which way to go, and so you went forward, adjacent to the direction Steve went.

You felt like you were getting so turned around the further you walked, and you wondered what would happen if you just decided to go back to the house. You wondered how the punishment would be decided then—provided you actually made it back without being caught. The thought of being caught by Steve prevented you from remaining calm and thinking clearly.

Or maybe it was everything else that did that.

You could feel a familiar burn behind your eyes, and you struggled to swallow, throat feeling incredibly tight. You’d thought that you cried enough in the basement, but that kept proving to be untrue. A few tears skipped down your face before many more followed behind, and you took in a shaky breath.

How was it that you hated Peter so so much for what he did…while also wanting nothing more than to just return to your bedroom with him when this was over? You didn’t want to go back down there, alone and bathed in darkness. You wanted to sleep in your bed with Peter and you wanted him to hold you while you cried about the very thing he’d done that caused the tears.

You hated him, but you wanted to be near him.

You didn’t want to hate him from afar. You wanted to hate him while staring at his face every night and listening to the sound of his breathing and feeling his hands on your shoulder as he sat behind you in the bathtub. You hated Peter so much for what he did—and lying about it—but it just wasn’t the kind of hate where you couldn’t stand the sight of him, and you hated him all the more for that.

You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of footsteps, and considering you’d gone in the opposite direction of Steve, you were prepared to meet your fate when your gaze would meet that of a familiar brown one. Only, the eyes that met yours weren’t brown…they were blue…and you felt your lips part.

You didn’t hesitate to run the other way, a scream climbing out of your throat when you were tackled to the ground. Steve’s hand was pressed to the back of your head as he slammed your face against the leaves and sticks, making you gasp, and when his arm snaked around your neck, a choked sound left you.

You weren’t surprised when he threw you to the dirt again.

“I knew…” he started, slowly following you as you attempted to crawl away. “From the moment Peter gave us that crock of shit about a gentler method, I fucking knew.”

You clawed at the dirt when Steve reached down to pull on one of your legs.

“I knew then that he was being too soft with you,” he spat, flipping you over. “I knew that it would come back to bite us.”

Steve squatted over you, one hand tightly curling around your throat, and you struggled to breathe as he slowly forced you to your feet. Your scraped at his hand, gaze tearful and pleading as Steve stared you down, nostrils flaring. His blond hair was a mess, an unusual sight for you, but those blue eyes were as cold as ever.

Steve really hated you.

“Bucky is better than me,” Steve hissed at you. “…because if Margaret had gotten as far as Nat did because of you, I wouldn’t make Peter stop until you were begging for him to put you out of your misery.”

You pushed at his hands, panicked, and he only shook you in response.

“You think he’s your best fucking friend,” Steve breathed through clenched teeth, sizing you up. “Instead of the man who owns you.”

When he threw you down, your head spun, and you struggled to right your vision. You pressed your hands to your temples as you cried, fighting the urge to curl in on yourself.

“That ends today…”

Steve’s words were spoken with finality, and you didn’t quite understand the meaning of them as you heard approaching footsteps. You heard Steve exhale, and when you dared to look up, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of Peter.

“Peter,” he acknowledged. “Love that timing of yours.”

Peter didn’t hesitate to hurry towards you, placing a hand on your head as you sobbed. As you’d suspected, you knew it wasn’t going to be that simple if Steve caught you instead, and you realized just how complicated it was going to be at the sound of his next words.

“We need to make sure nothing like this happens again, Peter,” Steve told him, and they shared a look, something unspoken between them that had Peter’s jaw clenching.

“So, is that why you forgot who she belongs to? Is that why you treated her like you used to treat Peggy on her really bad days? She’s already terrified of you. What more do you want?” he sneered at him, briefly looking at you and brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“I need her to be terrified of you,” Steve answered, hands on his hips. “I told you from the beginning that you were too soft with her. I told you what needed to be done for her to get it.”

“Yeah, Steve, alright, I get it-!”

“…but you don’t,” Steve yelled at Peter, staring at the younger man just like a brother would. “You don’t get it because if you did, this would’ve never happened.”

Steve gestured around, cutting you a scathing look that made you wither.

“She would’ve never felt more loyal to Nat than the men who run this household. She would’ve understood that she exists to serve you and the house as a whole by extension.”

You hated the way Peter’s hands slowed on your face, and when you looked at his own face, he looked to be deep in thought.

“Not just the wives and whatever they think is best, but what’s best for the family,” Steve paced. “You are going to make her understand that she’s not your friend and certainly not your fucking equal.”

You watched Peter defeatedly exhale, eyes falling closed.

“You are going to make her understand that, right now,” Steve snarled.

“Steve…”

Peter’s tone was pleading, and that was when you finally sat up, looking between them with a racing heart. You scooted back, but Peter’s hand on your arm prevented you from going far. When your gaze met his, his eyes had softened, something in them pleading with you.

“I will make you, Peter.”

Steve’s tone was scarily calm, and you glanced at him, lips shaking at the malice in his eyes.

“Do you understand me? I will not rest until I catch her slipping up again, and depending on my mood that day, I just might make you fuck her right there in the garden for all to see,” he quietly told him. “So, it’s either now or it’s later…but it is happening. You decide.”

In truth, you didn’t know why you were crying. You had already accepted that you’d rather get the bad thing over with than drag it out for two months. However, that was the thing, wasn’t it? Steve was going to make Peter do this and still turn around and throw you right down in that basement. Even though there was less humiliation involved, it still seemed unfair.

“Do this and…maybe I can convince Bucky to only leave her down there for a month,” Steve proposed, and by the tone of his voice, he knew that he’d won.

You barely had time send Steve a scathing look of your own before your back roughly met the ground.

Peter’s mannerisms were rough, and while you knew it was because Steve wanted them to be, it didn’t mean you had to like it. You didn’t think Peter had ever been rough with you, and you cried out at the harsh pull on your hair, his other hand painfully digging into your waist.

“See, you need to understand, sweetheart,” Steve’s voice reached your ears as he circled you. “That you belong to Peter. You exist as an extension of him, now. You exist to exalt him, and the only way that you will get it in your head that you’re his property…”

Peter had flipped you onto your stomach, now.

“Is if he treats you like it.”

You yelped when your chest was forced to the ground, Peter manhandling you in the way he knew Steve wanted.

“…and what better way to do that than to show you that he can and will take you wherever and whenever regardless of who is around to see it,” he slowly said, making sure he was heard loud and clear.

The humiliation of feeling Peter push his cock into you before Steve’s very eyes had you squeezing yours shut, a harsh sob escaping as Peter’s skin slapped against yours. His hand was on your throat, and you clawed at it, gasping when his teeth pressed into your shoulder.

“You don’t have autonomy over your body anymore. You don’t exist independently of Peter, and that extends to this family…”

Peter’s harsh thrusts made your toes curl, and what was once a rough entry had become much smoother. With no warning and feeling wholly unprepared for this turn of events, tears escaped your eyes, and your fingers dug into the grass and dirt. The feel of Peter’s cock pushing into your walls was a familiar one you’d grown to love, but the sound of Steve’s pacing steps and voice made you want to crawl in a hole.

You felt torn apart.

“Had you previously understood that, all of this could’ve been prevented.”

Steve sounded pleased with himself—and Peter—and the thought made you sick. When Peter pulled your head back, you winced, and you started to move away from him, wanting this earlier and regretting it now—especially since you were going back into the basement anyway.

When Peter’s lips grazed your ear, you shuddered.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you, hand painfully pulling at your hair, making you cry out again.

You recalled Peter’s words from earlier, and you knew why this was happening. You understood the hierarchy in the household, understood that what Steve said went, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Steve would’ve absolutely made this happen for the whole house to say. You understood that this was the better alternative, but that understanding is what made you cry more.

This wasn’t something to be understood. The man thrusting into you had killed your friends and kidnapped you, and the man before you had helped. Peter wasn’t your husband or your lover but instead your captor and rapist. Nothing about any of this was right, and in this moment, you shouldn’t be rationalizing or understanding anything.

…but you did.

You understood why Peter grabbed you with no hesitation and proceeded to fuck you under Steve’s watchful eye. You understood why being raped for all to see had briefly been the better choice to you than being sent back into the basement. You understood why Peter was murmuring sweet nothings and apologies into your ear as he roughly held you down and plunged his cock into you.

You understood it all, and you hated it.

You didn’t want to simultaneously hold Peter closer and push him away as he roughly fucked you against the grass, face to face with you, now. You didn’t want him to obey when Steve told him to fuck you harder. You didn’t want to understand that Peter didn’t actually want this because if that were true he simply wouldn’t do it, right? You didn’t want to accept that this house didn’t follow the rules of the outside world and that so long as you were here—and you would be here forever—neither would you.

“Are you sorry, now?” Steve wondered, somehow able to hear his voice over the sound of your cries. “Hmm?”

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer, but you knew you gave him that anyway the moment you started crying. When Peter’s eyes met yours, he shushed you, a poor attempt to make this better somehow, and his next words made you blink.

“Do you see how much worse I could be?” he whispered, too low for Steve to hear. “How much worse they want me to be?”

You stared at him, nails digging into the skin of his arm, and with another harsh sob, you nodded.

“Do you understand what I’ve been trying to protect you from?”

Again, you nodded.

Peter’s nose grazed your own.

“Do you get it now?” he sadly asked you.

When you nodded again, unable to find your voice between cries, Peter shushed you. His fingers pressed into your skin, and his hips painfully came down against yours. When his lips pressed against yours, they swallowed the noises that escaped your throat.

“I never wanted this for you.”

…and you knew Peter was telling the truth.

#peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #dark fic #peter parker imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #cop au

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kneelingshadowsalome · 6 months

Text

Christian Woman

(König x Nun!Reader)

Word count: 5.2 k Summary: Yup it’s König with a Virgin!Nun!Reader folks. This is all @wordstome 's and @melancholic-thing 's and their König & religion post's fault! :( Tags/warnings: PINING. Eventual smut, eventual blood & minor injuries. A cute, sweet, silly story with undertones of religious despair. Watch out for possible mistakes concerning Catholicism, I was more interested in the forbidden love trope.

Part 1

You don’t know how it even happened, but you became friends with a foreign man visiting your city.

You bumped into him one day. Literally bumped into him, or then he bumped into you; you’re not entirely sure who’s to blame here, but you would’ve fallen to the ground had he not grabbed you by the arm and hauled you back up and against him.

It was just to prevent you from hurting yourself, but your mind short circuits for a moment when you’re pressed against the broadest chest you’ve ever seen. The man is tall, so tall you have to crane your neck to see who has such lightning-fast reflexes.

Worried eyes look down at you from above, but the man’s expression softens when he sees how frightened you look.

“I’m so sorry. Are you ok?”

“Yes… Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

He starts to fuss about being in such a hurry without any particular reason and asks if he can make this up for you somehow.

Could he offer you a lunch or something? No, how about a drink? He’s truly so sorry.

His accent is charming, and the genuine regret and worry make you quickly judge him as a safe enough person to grab a coffee with. Accidents happen, and it’s not illegal to sit down with a man you just met, right?

You tell him you don’t drink drinks, but a coffee would be nice. The man raises an eyebrow when you reveal to him that you’re not only a teetotaler, you’re also a nun.

“Ah… So you prefer a simple life?”

He takes you to a dark, cosy cafe around the corner. His inquiry leads to a conversation on the joys of silence and simplicity, then on philosophy, faith, and the cons of modern life. By the time he grabs you a table for two, you’re already discussing how people are always on their smartphones nowadays, looking for instant gratification and pleasures and how it wrecks their brains. You both gush about how nice it is to steer away from all that.

You find yourself talking to him with ease about your life choices. How the anxiety reached a point where you wanted to get away from all the fuss, and how much peace this solution has brought you. How you have meaning and purpose these days, and how you doubt you’d be able to adjust into a modern society anymore. He gets what you mean immediately, saying he only feels at home when he’s alone in the mountains. How he’s been alone his whole life, really, and that it doesn’t scare him anymore, on the contrary.

You feel warm and safe with him, lost inside a soft bubble you quickly create in the corner table of a cellar cafe. Perhaps it’s the dimly lit environment or perhaps it’s just him, but you have one of the deepest conversations ever with this mysterious man.

He’s attentive and curious without being your usual pervert on the sly. You’ve had enough of men looking at you like you’re the forbidden fruit after hearing about your life choices.

This man doesn’t try to seduce his way into your pants; he listens to your insights and agrees with you on how silence does you good, especially in times like this. You wonder what he does for work and why he’s here because clearly, he’s not local. You never get to ask him because the conversation ends far too quickly.

He receives a message on his phone, cruelly reminding you that the magical bubble has burst and you’re back in the modern world. He looks crabby about the interruption too, especially when he says he has to go.

You both agree that you had a nice talk and should continue it sometime – why not tomorrow? Same time, same place.

So you meet him again.

And again… And again.

You find out he’s in town for at least two weeks, but when he finally reveals what he does for work, your stomach sinks. He tells you he’s working for some private military contractor and can’t really share any details about his work. When you ask him does this mean that he kills people for money, he falls silent.

“I guess you could put it like that.”

He’s looking at his shoes when he says it, somewhat embarrassed or sad. His feet barely fit under the table, so he has them stretched out, leading to a waitress almost tripping on them one day. Your heart is squeezing inside your chest when he rises immediately and apologises like the perfect gentleman, helps the lady up and never gets insulted by the murderous glares the woman shoots at him.

He gives you his codename, König, and that he comes from Austria, but then refuses to share any other personal details. You don’t even get to know his first name. You do talk about your childhood, you talk about your schools and what you were supposed to become when you grew up. He tells you about his love for hiking, and you tell him about your dance hobby.

The usual “Oh? Nuns are allowed to dance?” comment has you laughing.

“Well… I don’t do twerking, but yes, nuns are allowed to dance.”

“What’s ‘twerking’?”

It’s so funny how you seem to know about modern trends more than him. You know about Tinder and TikTok through your friends; it’s just that these things are really not for you. Still, this König knows even less about dating apps and internet challenges than you.

It makes you intrigued: he could have dozens of women right now if he wanted to. And not only because he’s attentive and kind: he’s so big and tall that most women would beg him to whisk them away. All he needed to do was go to a hookup site and deal out some likes.

Most of his muscles are packed in the shoulders and chest area, making it challenging for him to fit through a door. You can see he hasn’t skipped a leg day either, and immediately chastise yourself for checking out his butt in the coffee queue. You ignore your filthy thoughts of wanting to get pressed against those pecs again, you pay no attention to the fleeting musings on how good that short stubble would feel against your neck if he ever chose to kiss you there.

A soldier and a nun make an odd pair, but you find yourself enjoying his company more than anyone elses. He seems to wait for your meetings with eager but polite enthusiasm, too. You know it’s an attempt to make you forgive his choice of career when he reveals to you that his best mission was when he saved thirty women from sex trafficking. And it does make your heart crack open a little. Killing is a sin, but he has tried to protect life in his own crude way.

You start to include him in your prayers. First, you ask for the Lord to guide this man away from the path of killing. Then, slowly, you ask him to be protected from harm, you only pray for him to be safe.

And you say nothing of this new acquaintance to the others. You ought to, but your lips remain sealed.

You’re allowed to have friends and visit them, and it doesn’t matter if the friend is of the opposite sex as long as the meetings are purely platonic. Which they are. This man could be your brother, you tell yourself. He could be a long-distance cousin. There’s nothing fishy going on around here, and he’s just visiting, so why would you bother to tell anyone? It would only lead to troubled sighs and concerned questions, and you really don’t feel like answering them right now.

You miss a few midday prayers, and once, your chores. The relationship turns out to be far from platonic.

König can’t even keep his eyes in check.

They travel down your neck and land on the smallest amount of cleavage, barely visible in the loose, dull shirts you wear. They slip further down and stop to admire your breasts next, then quickly rise back to your collarbones as if this was just a mistake, just an absent, wandering gaze. You know you’re wearing a semi-helpless stare by the time he meets your eyes. The blue steel in his is completely swallowed by hunger.

You want to believe it was only a momentary lapse, but then he does it again. Actually, you catch him looking at your breasts, scanning your body and cherishing the tender spot between your collarbones more times than you can count. They’re quick, stolen moments, so harmless that you choose to stay quiet. He usually starts to talk about something trivial right after, or asks you a quick question as if nothing ever happened.

Those stolen glimpses stay with you for the rest of the day though. They give you intrusive thoughts during morning prayers and evening silence. You’ve never felt this… adored.

He has a quiet, commanding presence, and you feel like a mouse under his gaze, a mouse who’s always thoroughly examined. At the same time, he’s so polite and so charming that you can’t think ill of him. He always takes your coat and brings you coffee, always asks how your day or week has been, and actually listens to you speak. He listens to your every word with a softening glow in his eyes, a shimmer that spreads across the table and makes you feel warm all over.

König always softens in your presence... You always tense up in his.

Your face is flushed, and you blame it on the overcrowded cafe. You feel both safe and in danger with him, and it must be the virgin inside you talking. But you sense there’s something more at play here. He’s simply not like other men.

You fear he’s seen hell; in fact, he must walk there every day. From what he tells you, you understand that he has suffered a lot and could use your prayers. But it’s also quite clear that he’s not a victim anymore.

It’s difficult to see this utterly charming teddy bear in front of you, enjoying his large cup of coffee and giving you the occasional husky laugh, then imagine the same man bursting through a door and starting a massacre. Marching in some dark, dirty recess with a rifle or a shotgun in his hands, hunting down screaming people and putting down his already bleeding enemies.

Because that’s what you imagine in your mind when he tells you he’s sometimes used as an insertion specialist; a human battering ram in short.

You look at his hands around the mug, long fingers curled in search of warmth. He has short, trimmed nails and no sign of blood under them… But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.

…

"Oh honey. Soldiers are the worst," your friend sighs when you meet her at another cafe, different from where you meet your killing machine. It’s bubbly and lively and colourful, just like your friend; it’s the opposite of König, the special operations soldier who’s dark, intriguing, and intimate, just like the dimly lit cellar cafe you meet him in secret.

"He probably owns a Fleshlight," she mumbles with her mouth full of croissant.

"A… A what?"

She starts to cough at your innocent inquiry, and you know you didn’t hear ‘flashlight’ in the first place, it’s just that you’re not sure if you want to know what on earth she’s talking about now.

When she finally survives the munch she almost choked on, she politely tells you what a fleshlight is, and you find yourself not rolling your eyes, but actually thinking about König using one with need.

Christ have mercy…

"Soldiers are crazy. I once dated this peacekeeper,” your friend continues in her usual chirpy way. “Couldn't hold a conversation for his life. Unless it was about guns... And when I went over to his place, the walls were covered with pictures of naked women. It was so pathetic I had to keep myself from laughing. And oh god, now I remember! He offered me microwaved mac and cheese for dinner…"

You sip your coffee and listen politely to your friend ramble about some guy she used to date. She has a lot of these stories, and all of them are worth hearing. Sometimes you think if you’re living your unlived sex life through your friend, the way you’re so curious about hearing all the different descriptions of male genitalia and the crazy, funny, downright unbelievable scenarios that have happened to her.

Some of the tales are so gross you’re quite happy you haven’t indulged yourself in casual sex. And at times, hearing about all the things your friend has gone through, being an onlooker to all that heartbreak and pining and loss, has managed to strengthe your resolve.

Being a nun isn’t so bad... At least you haven’t wasted your time on shallow men.

"He put so much chili in that shit that my makeup started to run," she continues her story about the poor excuse for a dinner and a date. Usually, the food leads to sex in these tales, and you’re a hypocrite for wanting to hear more.

"Did you sleep with him…?"

"After that? No thanks," she looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "I pretty much fled the building."

Even the most sad, pathetic, crappy tales make you both laugh, especially if enough time has passed. You laugh now, too, both at your friend falling for a man simply because he was a hot soldier and at the poor man who was in obvious need of an interior designer and a cook. Or a girlfriend… Or a mom.

"Look. I'm saying this because you're my friend." She says after wiping a few tears from her eyes, "And because you’re a virgin and a goddamn nun. Like come on, how many years have you been locked up in that dreadful monastery?"

"Convent," you correct.

"Whatever. I'm telling you this man is just looking for some easy pussy while he's deployed."

“I wouldn't call a nun an easy…ugh, you know.”

“Perhaps he likes a challenge then, “ she shrugs. “Men like to hunt.”

"It’s not like that,” you quarrel, trying to ignore the way her lips purse with amusement. “He's been very nice to me and… we have these great conversations. We talk about really deep stuff, you know? He explained the difference between Schopenhauer and Kierkegaard to me last time we met–"

"Ok, that's even worse. That's a red flag."

You look down at your beverage, sullen and beaten. She’s the first person you’ve told about meeting a man over a coffee, and you’re already doing it wrong.

"Does he ever look at your tits?" She asks all of a sudden.

"What?"

Your friend crosses her arms over her chest and tilts her head, looking like an overly self-satisfied detective.

"Do you ever catch him staring at your breasts," she rephrases the question as if she’s talking to a lame person.

"Well… Uh. Yes, sometimes–"

"Well there you have it. Man's just bored with his fleshlight."

"Shh! Keep it down, would you…? Good God..."

"Don't take the name of the lord your god in vain," she chimes. “But seriously, it’s no wonder. If only we could get you out of that convent, there would be a line of men at your door.”

“Oh for God’s sake…”

“No, seriously. We’re talking about fistfights and broken bones. Dating apps would explode. People would get killed.”

You roll your eyes - your friend always loves to exaggerate things. If anything, you’re scared of men, and you loathe the dating world. You’re put off by shallow commitments and one-night stands and getting ghosted and God knows what else. That’s why you became a nun: to find something stable in your life. You always told your friend that Jesus Christ is the most stable man you’ve ever met, and you will stick with him. As always, your friend was not on the same page with you.

“Stable? Excuse me, but didn’t he start a riot or something at the temple? Are we talking about the same dude who lead an uprising against the Romans? Hung out with whores, raised corpses from the dead, fucked around and found out until someone nailed him at the cross? Stable my ass!”

“Look, even if he wants something more, I’m not up for it,” you try to convince - both yourself and your friend.

“Mm. What a shame,” she smirks. “Is he handsome?”

“Yes, but–”

“Mmh. Deep voice?”

“Umm… It’s memorable?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” you cry. “Okay fine, it’s nice and deep and I like it. And I love his laugh,” you confess, and your friend does a silent little ‘yay’ and ‘I knew it’ cheer. You know it would be a field day for her if you finally got laid. As cliche as it sounds, you’ve always treated your friend as some sort of devil’s advocate.

You allow yourself to gush a minute, maybe two, about his muscles to your beloved devil. You tell your friend about his broad back, how wide his shoulders are, you tell her about the easy smiles he always sports with you. You describe the tactical pants and the snug black t-shirts he wears in detail, you confess he has a nice butt and that he’s so big he can't even fit the table.

You tell her how König starts to talk with his hands if he gets excited and how you have to fear he’s going to knock something over and make a mess. You tell about his blue eyes and the way they always soften when he looks at you, and looks at you often. All the time, really. He doesn’t even see other women, uh, you mean, other people in the cafe. He’s polite to the waitresses but never fully acknowledges anyone else but you.

Your friend's enthusiastic grin turns into an uneasy, pitying smile when she realises how deep into this man you actually are.

"I'm sorry babe… Someone has to give you the tough love," she reaches for your hand across the table. "Do you understand that if this guy is not working for the regular military, he's probably doing some war crime type of shit?"

The way you rush to defend your steadfast soldier who probably has his hands covered in blood, would make your abbess sigh.

"No, no, actually, he's working against these human trafficking cells–"

"Ok, he shoots human traffickers too, that's great. Good for him. You're still about to step into a pile of traumatised, immature, emotionally unavailable soldier shit. Trust me."

"Just because your soldier was like that doesn't mean mine has to be," you blurt.

Gosh - that was a good old Freudian slip...

"Yours now, is he?"

"No, that was… It just slipped."

"So you've actually thought about banging this guy?"

"What?! No."

"You have," she insists with a widening smile.

"No. No, I–"

"Oh my god. You're about to forsake your vows," she brings her hands together in excitement. "Oh my god, oh my god. This is amazing!"

You feel your lips snap into a thin line.

Just whose side is this woman on? Does she want to protect you from heartbreak or push you into some man's lap just for shits and giggles?

If you're chosen by God, your friend is chosen by the Devil, that's for sure. Nothing exciting ever happens behind the walls of your 'monastery', nothing but endless prayers and boring lectures and monotonous chores. Of course she thinks it's about time you got a round of good dick. She just wants to hear a filthy story when you return from your secret little fling, a fling that could get you kicked out of the convent for good.

"How tall is he exactly...? Does he have big hands?"

Your friend's eyes are shining with excitement - apparently the possible war crimes and atrocities König has committed are forgiven and forgotten.

"What does that have to do with anything…?"

"I can tell you what to expect in the dick department," she smiles with an impish grin.

You eventually leave the cafe with a dirty soul and a skittish heart.

The way your friend described your new acquaintance's probable blessings in the "dick department" left little to the imagination, and now you're actually scared.

This man has been so polite towards you, so kind to you. He's offered you coffee and pastries and cake along with an intellectual challenge, but now it's all ruined because all you can think about is what's inside his pants. How big his hands are, and how they correlate with what's downstairs. How nice it would feel to lay under him, with his chest pressed against yours, how divine it would be to get pinned down by him. How those strong, narrow hips would fit between your legs, broad shoulders eclipsing the view above as he slowly crawls on top of you. How he'd kiss your neck, your collarbones, your mouth, with such hunger that your legs eventually give in and spread wide open.

You return to the convent with a heavy heart and distressed thoughts, but find some solace in your evening prayers.

Nothing has happened, you remind yourself; these are only thoughts. You have seen a man who's interested in you for half a dozen times. You took part in a shallow, mundane, earthly conversation today with your friend, but nothing carnal or wrong has happened. Everything is the way it has always been.

You’re safe now, completely safe here. There’s no chaos and no guns and no tall men with big dicks, no Austrian war criminals trying to seduce you and then discard you after their deployment ends.

There’s only a man with a kind smile, warm eyes, and a nice, husky laugh. Some good coffee with distant notes of chocolate and perfectly civil conversations about European philosophers and the crisis of modern thought.

Sturdy walls support you; they have held you for centuries, and the crucifix above you has given hope to so many people before you. The ever-safe embrace of your faith envelops you, and you can always trust that you are loved, even when you’re flawed and incomplete.

Even with indecent thoughts, you can pray for mercy and ask for forgiveness. Even if you have impure urges towards your Austrian mercenary, you can still pray for him... It’s the least you can do to repay the kindness he has given you.

But the heaviness follows you to your room; it makes your chest feel dark and thick. You don’t say your last prayer before bed. You don’t want His eyes upon you tonight.

You don’t want to draw the Lord’s attention to you while your hand travels down beneath the sheets, your thoughts wandering to a certain god-like soldier with eyes like burning ice.

…

The next time you two meet, he crosses a clear boundary.

König has started to take you for walks, sometimes suggesting you two could visit a museum, clearly wishing you’d show him around the city. In truth, he’s the one parading you around like you’re his cute little lady. He pays for your museum tickets and brings you ice cream while you sit on a bench at a park, grabs your arm to draw your attention to a few swans swimming in a pond. And that’s ok - physical touch like that is ok. Holding hands is not.

Because…

One time, when you’re walking down a hill path, admiring the sunset, a big, warm hand wraps itself around yours.

It finds you in silence, envelops your tiny palm completely, squeezes you softly and emanates so much heat that a cord of fire shoots across your arm and straight into your heart.

You allow yourself to bask in the warmth of the huge, calloused palm for a few more seconds before ripping your hand away. You take a few hurried steps and turn, noticing he has stopped to look at you with guarded hesitation.

“I’m sorry,” you apologise even if König is the one who went off limits, “but this is not appropriate.”

“Entschuldigung… I know. That was out of bounds,” he raises a hand over his heart and bows his head a little, watching you from under his brows. You could keel over from how the gesture reminds you of Arthurian romances, of knights who place their hand on their heart to swear they’ll never disgrace a lady again.

Instead, you nod, your soul saved but your heart sinking like an anvil dropped in the sea. You’d want nothing more than for him to do it again, to grab your hand in his and never let go.

The rest of the walk happens in awkward silence, and you thought he would keep his distance - Christ, you thought you would keep your distance - but he insists on walking near to you, and so you continue down the path with your fingers still touching each other every now and then. You don't even try to move your hand away.

I’m going to die, you scream internally while looking at the bleeding sunset in the distance. You can’t look at him; you can’t even talk to him. It’s like your body is pumped full of some drug these days.

Falling for someone so hard is making you feel faint; your insides are churning and turning and your brain is a mess. Your heart is racing so fast that you’re afraid you’ll end up having a heart attack one of these days.

He’s probably used to this: the thrill and the adrenaline, a world laced with rush and extremes, indulging in things such as guns and explosions and blood and women and darkness.

You only have your safe routines, your sisters, a few friends you meet over coffee, a family you visit thrice a year. You’re not used to being bombarded with hormones and raw emotion like this. You have never, ever lusted after a man like this. The only thing you ever craved for was another slice of cake.

“Do you still want to see me?” He asks apologetically when you approach the convent which has now started to resemble a frigid, uneventful prison.

“Of course,” you hurry to say. “Just… No more holding hands. Ok?”

“Ok,” he chuckles softly, and you stop and turn.

He’s never been this near to where you live, and you’re afraid someone will see you if he escorts you to the door. You can’t be seen with a man in your current state, that would be a catastrophe. Anyone in the building could tell that this friendship is far from platonic.

“I’m sure you’ll find some other girl to… hold hands with,” you say, hating how bitter and self-pitying you sound. You even swallow when you look up into his eyes. They’re so soft now that the ice has almost disappeared, devoured by longing, a thick and sinful darkness.

“What if I don’t want some other girl?”

His voice is so wickedly gentle too.

You can see he’s fighting an inner battle to not touch you again; he’s standing toe to toe with you, towering above you, with his shoulders slightly hunched. If someone walked behind him, they wouldn’t even see you’re there because of how close you two are standing to each other. You can’t back away from him because you’d bump into a tall iron gate - in fact, you’re half-pressed against it now.

“I’ve enjoyed our conversations,” he continues with a throaty voice. God, how you would melt if he used that voice in bed…

“So have I,” your voice comes out as a wavy whisper. “But there can’t be anything more than that... I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” he laments, but the corner of his mouth curves slightly up. “So sorry you wouldn’t even believe…”

It’s mischief and seduction, darkness and deception, and your insides squeeze into a tight little knot.

“Please… Let’s just keep it the way it was,” you plead with eyes that beg the complete opposite.

“Sure... I will try my best, Kätzchen. Is this your convent…?”

You wonder if he’d pay you a visit if you told him where you sleep. You wonder if your single bed would creak if he tried to make love to you on it... You wonder if you could muffle your cries when you clenched with him inside you. If he’d groan too loudly when he reached his peak…

“It’s just around that corner,” you explain with a frail voice, hating how it betrays every single thing that crosses your mind.

“Good to know,” he replies, with no shakiness to his voice at all. He seems to enjoy making you so flustered; he seems to draw strength from people weaker than him. Which is probably 99 % of the population…

“How so,” you peep, already praying that he wouldn’t come to try his luck with the poorly locked windows. The back door is always open too because some of the nuns are smokers. König wouldn’t even need to use his insertion skills to get in.

“Now I know where to find you if I come to work here again,” he shrugs as if innocent. As if his eyes didn’t betray a few filthy thoughts too.

“Are you… Are you leaving then?”

“Soon.”

Your heart is about to break after two weeks of knowing some random guy, and you feel like the silliest woman in the world.

You try to remind yourself of what your friend said: this man just wants some easy pussy. He’s just bored with his fleshlight. Men like challenges, they like to hunt. You think about Lucky Luke and all the other cowboys who came and went as they pleased, breaking hearts and then riding into the sunset.

This cowboy only got to hold your hand though... And he’s saying he doesn’t want “some other girl”. Of course there’s a chance that he simply visits a brothel after discussing philosophy with you, or goes to a club or whatever, but you don’t want to entertain such horrible thoughts.

“I’ll miss you, then,” you try to sound neutral while he’s looking down at you like you’re his first love.

“Ganz sicher, I will miss you too. Perhaps I’ll visit you, work trip or not?”

“That would be nice.”

“It might take a while. But you won’t forget me, ja?”

“Of course not. I will pray for you every day,” you smile with a good amount of affection. It has the same effect as saying something like “I want to blow you right here on this street” because your Austrian giant gets visibly excited. His breath quickens, and his eyes start to wander again.

“...Are you sure I can’t hold your hand?”

You give him a shy smile, then quickly guide your eyes to the pavement. This König is definitely taking it as some love confession when a girl says she will pray for him. Your insides turn to jello when you see his hand close into a loose fist, then open with a spasmlike stretch. He wants to touch you so badly that he has to physically fight against it.

“No…?” He inquires high above you, so desperate that you’re quite sure he’s not frequenting any brothels in the area. He might stroke his cock to the thoughts of you, though…

You shake your head softly, then raise your eyes back to his. What a silly, silly man. If only you weren’t a nun, you’d let him do whatever he wants with you. Even abandon you after using you in every which way, because to be under that adoring gaze is worth a thousand heartbreaks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

There’s more desperate hope in that question, and you wonder if tomorrow is the last time you’ll see each other. Soon could mean anything, but you can’t bear to hear the exact time and date when he leaves. Not tonight.

“Yes. Same time, same place,” you agree, then flee from under the dark, adoring stare to the safety of your cloister.

#könig x reader #könig x you #könig x nun!reader #forbidden love #könig fanfiction #konig x reader #konig x you

2K notes · View notes

mntalbrakdown · 9 months

Text

sober thoughts - C. Fisher

masterlist!

mentions of: underage drinking, cussing, fluff, smut. MDNI. piv, unprotected sex, fingering

synopsis: you were once friends with conrad until summer happened and he just stopped talking to you

wc: 5.7k

“don’t ever forget me” your little twelve-year-old self whispered to Conrad who was a year older than you

“never,” he said playing with your hair as you both lay on the grass watching the fireworks on the fourth of July. your head laying on his chest.

“y/n are you almost ready” Belly yelled at you trying to get you to hurry up for the party you were about to go to with her and Taylor

“yes almost,” you say playing with your hair and making sure each strand is not misbehaving

“chill belly being hot takes time,” Taylor says applying more lip gloss

“anyways y/n how are you and Conrad” Taylor puts away her lip gloss in her purse

“he’s an ass and I don’t even talk to him,” you said

“What did you even do,” Belly asked playing with the ends of her hair

“I don’t know we were really close in Cousins and like two years ago in summer I started to get guys' attention and all of a sudden he got distant,” you said reminiscing the best summer of your whole life you told the girls you pulled 6 boys the whole summer but that came at a cost, losing the one guy you loved

“you had a glow-up,” Taylor says looking at you and holding your hand

“yeah, she did” you see Jeremiah at Belly’s door frame which made you smile. they've been flirting back and forth

“are we ready,” Belly asked and you nodded

you all headed downstairs to see Susannah and Laurel in the kitchen probably stoned and said goodbye to them. when you arrived at the car Belly called shotgun which meant you and Taylor would sit in the back of Jeremiah’s Jeep.

“so y/n you're the driver tonight right” Jeremiah looked at you from the rearview mirror

“when am I not” you scoff looking out the window. it wasn’t a rude remark it was a sarcastic one because you don’t really do any substances. so it was common sense that you would drive

everyone in Cousins lived close to one another so it didn’t take long to hear the loud music and the screams coming from a house. the house was already spilling bright colors on the street making you excited. when Jeremiah finally parked he handed you the keys because one time he held onto them and lost them. it was a whole ordeal, you spent an extra hour at the house trying to find them when he had them in a random coat that was hung up by the front door.

“hey Steven is here” Taylor pointed out to his car seeing that they also just got here.

“who’s that next to him,” Belly asks as you were getting out of the car looking at your phone for any new notifications when you accidentally bump into a tall stature

“oh sorry,” you both say looking at each other

"con what is wrong with you" you yelled at him. it was no use when he was in his own world he stayed there for at least a week. usually, you could get him out, but something was different that summer, you couldn't change him

"leave me alone" Conrad yelled at you, he was running up the stairs and the next thing you heard was his door closed shut. it was hard to miss, it echoed all over the house

"I'm so sorry for him," Susannah said.

the plan that day was to go watch a movie that was playing in the drive-in and then play at the beach with the whole group and watch the tide as you and Conrad listened to the music and possibly help you surf. but all that went down the drain and you didn't even know why.

“conrad” you say looking to meet his gaze.

“Conrad is here, y/n let’s go, no,” Taylor says screaming ready for you to get into the car making him laugh which you missed hearing

“Taylor it’s ok,” you say as she is getting out of the car with a stank face already plastered on

“hi Conrad,” she says moving her way in between the two of you and grabbing your hand to drag you to the party

as you were getting dragged into the party you were greeted by a group of people already by the door and a couple making out at the end of the hall

“hey I'm going to go get a drink” Taylor yells at you trying to get her voice to be heard over the music. you on the other hand were ready to go to the living room just to people watch

the thing was when you were at parties you would straight b-line to the living room because although people liked to conversate, that is the last place they would go. You liked to sit there and try to find other drivers there and you would make friends with them. It was hard to talk to a drunk person because they were boring and slur their words together. Today you saw Cameron, he is always there. You grew to like him like it was hard to anyway. He was so nice and you both had things in common.

"hey" you heard his little smile in his voice

"hi cam," you say receiving a bottle of water he got you

"so who are you here tonight with" cam asked you

"Jeremiah, Taylor, and Belly," you say

"so Conrad is still being weird," cam asked

"yeah," you said a bit disappointed. you told Cam everything because he was there and being sober at a party is pretty boring

"that's weird because he is staring at us," Cam says looking over at him; making you follow his gaze. Conrad had this weird look on his face, his eyes were dark, but it wasn't because of the lighting it was something else. hatred? you brushed it off he isn't your problem, never will be.

"y/n want to play uno" Conrad yelled at you from the bottom of the stairs.

Uno was your favorite game to play at Susannah's house in the summer. It was always perfect. The adults were never there so it would make you feel comfortable with everyone else. It was when you would sit next to Conrad before he was unavailable and you two would team up without everyone knowing. In reality, everyone knew. and you both would win. you would take turns on who would win to make it seem "less" suspicious.

"so" cam says snapping you from your haze

"right duh" you laugh grabbing the mini uno you would always carry it around because it helped you make friends with people

"ooo can we play" Some random girls joined in and you said yes because you had no real reason to say no, plus uno is best played with more than two

"I'll join too," Conrad says gripping his beer rather firmly. he sat next to you on the couch ready to get the cards you shuffled.

when the games began you kept beating everyone. the games were simple, leave the best cards until the very end, unless and only if you ever need them, then go for it.

bzzz bzzz

you quickly checked the notification that came from your phone trying to not miss what was going on in the game.

"who is it" conrad asks his jaw clenching

"no one," you say giving him a weak smile, it was also none of his business because he doesn't care about you anymore

"sure" Conrad says putting a plus four that is directed towards you. so this is how he wanted to play the game? you grabbed the four cards, getting nothing that would help you against him. it was Cam's turn and he put reverse to try to protect you from Conrad

"your little boyfriend is now your new buddy," Conrad questioned under his breath

"not like you give a shit" you retort back

"you are so clueless," Conrad says making you the most confused person at the party. you just continued to play after the game ended you decided you wanted a coke. so you got up and told Cam you would be back for another round

you walked through crowded groups and at one point you saw Belly makeout with Jeremiah. taking note of that to bring up later. You than saw Taylor with another man who looked like three years older than her. When you finally got your coke you opened it taking a sip going back to the couch

"oh fuck" you let out spilling some of the coke onto your white tube top.

"sorry" you hear a familiar voice come out it was Conrad.

"we have to stop doing this or else we might actually get hurt," you say smiling at the way Conrad was trying to get napkins to clean the mess up. It was no use. your shirt was ruined.

"it's the universe trying to get us together" Conrad blurted out "I'm drunk" he tried to fix the situation, but he was never drunk, he was only ever tipsy.

"drunk words are just sober thoughts" you say looking down at your shorts to see if they were dirty.

"can we talk" conrad asks looking down at you

"yeah" you smile at him

he grabbed your hand and led you outside to the front yard where there were only a couple of people out. he saw that the stain on your shirt only got worse so he gave you his button-up shirt that he never lets go of.

"what's up," you say to him

"the stars look beautiful don't they" conrad was looking up

as a kid, you were obsessed with the moon and the stars. you had a friend that was the stars to your moon. you missed her, and you kept in touch but if you could you would bring her to Cousins. you would always talk about her to the others, knowing they would love her as well. You also face-timed her all the time. Conrad would get mad, saying that you were his for the summer and that she has you all year round. that she was selfish

"it's my time," Conrad says to your friend who was on your phone screen

"con give me my phone," you say slapping him and tugging at his hand

"it's summer byeee" he says as he pressed the red button on the phone

"i hate you," you say to him

"in your sweet dreams you do," he says cockily

"Conrad I thought this was going to be more of a serious conversation," you say trying to shake the idea of the summers you once had with the man standing in front of you

"I miss you," he says to you. sober thoughts. it took you aback it wasn't something you expected from him

"that isn't my fault," you say back with an attitude

"i know, i just got jealous" he said to you

"jealous of what con" he could have grabbed you and kissed you on the spot. he missed that name from your mouth. he craved it every day to the point he would replay voice memos you would send to him back when you two would speak

"of other guys," he said looking into your eyes to see if he scared you off, but all he saw was your face brightening up

"you were the only person on my mind con," you said to him grabbing his hand. if this was a dream, never wake him up. "you were the only thing coming out of my mouth when I was at school, all the guys that you saw hit me up are left on seen, I wanted you, I want you, I always have" you say looking at his face finally tug at his lips to form a smile

"good because I don't want to share," he says leaning down ready to kiss you. As he did he wrapped one arm around your waist the other in your hair tugging at it as you were smiling through the kiss and your hands on both his cheeks.

"get a room" Steven yelled at you two, leading Conrad to release the hand that was in your hair and flipping him off. making you laugh while you both kissed.

"let's get out of here," Conrad said to you

"i can't," you said, you had a job

"fuck the others Steven can drive them," he said in a way that he just wanted you to be by his side

"but how will they get home" you try to reason

"Steven has his keys c'mon let's go to my house, please" he kisses the top of your forehead.

"fine, but if they complain that is your fault," you say pointing at him

"that is fine by me," he says carrying you to spin you around

as you two were getting in the Jeep you started to fasten your seatbelt as Conrad did the same. He looked over at you, seeing how you adjusted the mirrors to get all the angles.

"I think this is the first time I see you drive," he says admiring you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear

"get used to it con," you say looking at him, melting at his touch

"Oh I will" he whispered

you started the car, you hated driving the Jeep it was so big and excessive. But desperate times call for desperate measures. You played some music in the car for the six-minute car ride. you could feel Conrad's eyes on you the whole time, seeing how you turned and how you checked the mirrors.

as you arrive at their house you park the car and let him get out, you were collecting your things in the car to get out when Conrad opens the door for you.

"thank you" you smile, he closes the door behind you and you lock the car. he holds your hand as he heads over to the front door to open it

"hi conrad" you hear Susannah

"hi y/n nice seeing you two together again," Laurel says from the couch

"glad to be back" you smile at the two adults

"oh you are so beautiful, we missed you," Susannah said

"thank you I missed you too" you smile and let go of Conrad's hand to hug her. She was always so sweet to you

"Mom, she's mine back off, we're going to my room" Conrad says taking your hand again

"bye talk to you guys later" you scream as Conrad is dragging you upstairs

once you got upstairs you see Conrad's door. he opened it with his free hand and led you in. It was still the same. the beach aesthetic and the colors. He had the plush you gave him. it was an orange cat with a pink collar, you named it Lasnaga and you had an orange cat with a blue collar named Garfield. it was funnier when you actually named them.

"oh ignore that" he said looking at the cat

"you still have it" you question, a smile forming on your face

"yeah" it looked like he slept with it and he even still had the perfume you gifted him it was now half empty

"I miss you" you heard from the other line of your phone

"I miss you too," you say back, it was almost Christmas and it was a time when you wished you could go to Cousins, but your mom would say no. "I got you a Christmas present," you say smiling through the camera lens

"yeah, I got it, thank you" One of the gifts was a perfume bottle, it smelled like vanilla and it was your go-to scent "Thank you" Conrad says

"I don't use that scent anymore," you say picking it up

"what" Conrad looked defeated, he was spraying that scent to remember you and you switched scents. he felt betrayed

"I'll get you a new one for Christmas" You smile at him grabbing his hands which made his smile come back

"y/n" he grabbed your attention using his pointer finger to make you look at him

"yes con" one moment you were just staring at his eyes the next thing you knew Conrad was leaning in to kiss you. this kiss was more meaningful as if to pick up from lost time, from the time that was wasted on jealousy and insecurity, because even though it wasn't official that you were Conrad's, you both knew you were meant for one another

Conrad's hands went back to their respective place, one in your hair and the other around your waist. yours were on his cheek and the other in his hair.

"fuck I missed you," he says catching his breath from the kiss

conrad went back but deepened the kiss, it was something that made you happy. You kept smiling through the kiss. you couldn't believe this was happening. Conrad pulled at your hair to make you moan so he could slip his tongue in and fight for dominance, he obviously won; you were still smiling throughout the make out because you couldn’t believe what was happening. Conrad guided you to his bed, he sat on the corner making you straddle his lap.

"are you ok with this," Conrad asked pulling away from the kiss, you could see some of your lipstick on his mouth

"yes, god fuck yes Conrad," you say giggling at the way his face quickly erased his worriedness to pure excitement

Conrad continued his attack, but this time it was on your neck, making sure it would show to others that you were his, that even though people haven't seen you both together for almost two years, you guys are better than ever. Conrad tugged and took off the button-down that he gave you and the dirty tube top. You weren't wearing a bra underneath, and Conrad couldn't be more excited

Conrad carried you off the bed for a second and laid you down on his bed. your hair was perfectly sprawled on the pillow as if it made a halo. Conrad could’ve sworn he saw a little heart that was made from your hair. as you waited for Conrad to take his shirt you got the cat to play around with.

"you're so beautiful," Conrad says going down to kiss you

when he pulls away he takes off your shorts and shoes followed by your socks making you giggle at his fast antics. you were wearing a lace thong that was pink making Conrad smile.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours,” you say reaching for Conrad's face as he melts into your touch, practically purring.

"you, you're all I think about" Conrad says smiling at you his hand traveling down to your thighs removing your panties too, and then he feels how wet you already are. he licked his two fingers as a lubricant and started to finger you. he slipped two fingers in seeing how tight you were and kept pacing in and out. you followed his fingers as they disappeared and reappeared. sucking on your bottom lip to not draw attention to his room. he looked at your face seeing how it contoured to the way the rhythm, then added more stimulation by massaging your clit.

"fuck Conrad, so good," you say almost screaming as you scratch his back with your nails

"shhh, look at me" Conrad says covering your mouth, but he loved the way your eyes looked at him "Sound so pretty but they can't hear you or the fun is over," he says leaning in to kiss you to muffle your screams.

Conrad soon leaves your mouth to go to your tits to suck on as you grab his hair for extra support. you tugged once and heard a yelp, making you want to fuck him already

he continued with his action. adding fingers as he goes. As he did you gasped, you kept your nails on his back almost drawing blood. conrad was circling your clit with his other hand to speed the process up. he needed you.

“god you’re so tight” he says looking at you with lust filled eyes

Conrad added a third finger as he saw you were about to release and reattached his lips onto yours wanting the fun to continue. he saw the way your body arched off the bed and made sure to continue the pace you were on. to make you orgasm

“look so pretty, come for me” he said spurring you on

“fuck conny” you say pulling at his hair to kiss you and something inside you snapped when he kissed you. you were leaking off his finger. when he looked down in between the two of you he saw the mess grabbing some of your liquid and putting it in your mouth

“fuck so hot” he said going in to kiss you tasting you as well

“my turn” you say with your fucked up makeup and some of your cum on the side of your mouth

“no i just really need you right now” conrad says taking his pants and underwear off as well as everything else.

“i want to be on top” you say to him biting the bottom of your lip

“whatever you want pretty girl” he says grabbing you and putting you on top of him

once you were on top of him you saw how big he was. you grabbed his member massaged him than started to glide him into your heat seeing how he threw his head back in pure pleasure

“stop teasing” he said grabbing onto your wrists and leading his length to your heat

“fuck fisher” you said mad he took all the fun out

“i’m trying to” he retorted making you laugh but that made you sink into him and turned into a loud pornagraphic moan making Conrad startled soon hearing footsteps leading to the door and a knock

“conny is everything ok” you could hear Susannah but this made the experience even better you fucked him up and down side to side to try to make it hard for him to answer his mom

“y-yeah everything is good there’s a porn scene on the horror movie we were watching- fuck” he said yelling to his mom

“oh ok” she says retreating backstairs

“you’re so dead” conrad said to you, but he never meant it. you looked so beautiful riding him as your boobs bounced up and down and saw how your hair was messily parted to the side and fell beautifully over your body. he knew you knew you looked great by the way you bit the bottom of your lip

“god you’re so big” you say looking down at him. putting your hand on his chest for extra support

he couldn’t help admire you. how your tits would go up and down and he had to massage them with his hand. the other was on your waist wanting you to go faster, but he just made your body lay against his as he took your lips with his teeth. his hand that was once on your tits went to your hair and tugged on it earning a low moan from you. the other traced his name on your back adding tickles to make you moan and hopefully come close. once he noticed your body become sloppy he held onto your waist and switched positions with him

“holy fuck that was hot” you said out loud to him

“only for you” he says leaning into your neck to suck on your sweet spot making you moan even more

he saw the way your hair fell back on his pillow. the image he once had of you will forever be tainted by this memory. the memory of him fucking you into oblivion. how his penis would go in and out of you seeing his length covered in white paint from the two of you

he didn’t know that you liked the way his hair fell from his forehead and floated in the air as he fucked you. how his arms would be veiny and how you followed them like a dog to bacon. that every time he wanted to show you something you just looked at his hands.

“fuck me harder” you said to Conrad as you dragged his face to yours to go in for a kiss. he took his free hand and started to massage your clit wanting you to come already.

“come for me again, want to see you come on my dick” he said so close to your face that his hair tickled you, his breath as well. “need you to come for me” his blue eyes following yours and how they were sparkling from pure euphoria

with one last thrust you came for him. his lips covering your mouth and when you were done moaning. his mouth was on your chin ready for another hickey. he nibbled at it. when his thrusts started to become sloppy you started to nibble at his ear. moaning in it to spur him on and saying sweet nothings like “god you’re so big” “taking me so good” “fuck me just like that”

“im yours conny, only yours” was the one that made him shoot his load into you

“oh fuck i’m so sorry” he said as he still kept thrusting into you coming down from his high

“don’t worry about it i’m on the pill” you say looking at his fucked out face and tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear

he leaned in to kiss you deepening the kiss he felt the cum that was leaking outside the two of you. when he was ready to let go you bit the bottom of his lip to see what he would do

“god you’re all i need” Conrad said going back to kiss you. when you both got out of breathe he went into his bathroom to get a cloth to clean you up

“you look beautiful from this angle” Conrad looked at you wanting to take a picture of the way your legs were open for him as the liquid oozed out of you

“get used to it” you said to him as he cleaned you up. he smiled at the thought that this wasn’t a one time thing

“oh i will” he says going to your face and peppering your face with kisses all over

he went over to a drawer he had always designated to you. it had some clothes that you left there when you would stay over. he handed you some shorts you always wore when you were here that did nothing but show your ass, but they were cute; they were white with pink polka dots and tossed you a shirt that was Conrad’s but you always used to use it because it was baggy and had your home state with it.

“i don’t want to wear that shirt today” you said

“what why” Conrad asked puzzled he didn’t do anything to that shirt

“you wear it, not in the mood to wear a shirt” you say to him mischievously. he took the hint as he was putting on some shorts and was ready to go under the covers of his bed making you follow behind

“than neither am i” he said kissing your forehead “some makeup wipes are on the nightstand by the way” he says pointing at the drawer next to you

“thank you” you say taking one and wiping your face off when you were done you threw it away in the trash can that was next to you

“so you never forgot me did you” you asked as you were going to cuddle his chest

“no never” he said looking down at you as he was turning the tv on to watch superbad one of your favorites

“and you never forgot about my things did you” you say giddily seeing what he was doing

“nope, i watched this every time i missed you” he said it as a matter of fact

“kiss me” you say out loud. and he did he leaned down to kiss you as you waited for the movie to load in. he was so delicate this time as if what he did was not him and someone else. that he would always be delicate with you

“you’re all i ever wanted” he said whispering it into you making you smile as the movie played.

you both laughed at the scenes. this movie has seen it all: your childhood, Conrad being by himself without you , and the two of you after you fucked each other. when another funny scene happened and you didn’t laugh Conrad looked down to see you asleep in his arms. your boobs were pressed against his chest and he decided it was time for him to go to sleep as well.

in the morning it was Conrad who woke up first from the rays of the sun. he then saw his clock and saw that it was only 9 am. he decided to just look at you sleep. how you would breathe and how you looked in his arms. the little smile on your face as your dream progressed. god he wished that was him making you smile. Conrad reached for his phone to take a picture of you. knowing this would be a perfect wallpaper. the way the hickeys he left on you were now visible. how you had no makeup but your hair was still as perfect as it was last night and this time noticing the locket necklace he got you from when you were kids on your thirteenth birthday

“thank you Conrad” you say hugging him once you finished opening the box that held the necklace. it was a picture of the two of you from when you were younger when you were both about seven and six.

“you’re welcome. you were practically begging for one all year” he said glad you liked his gift and ever since than you never took it off

he was infatuated with you.

“i’ll never forget you” Conrad whispered into your hair kissing the top of your head

“hey” you say in a raspy voice

“morning” he said back with a big grin on his face

“smells good” you could smell the muffins from downstairs. making Conrad laugh. he looked at you for about thirty minutes admiring you and the first thing you think about is food? “you look pretty con” you said kissing his lips. his hair was messy and his eyes were brighter today. he looked happy.

“so do you” he said smiling at you. if only you knew.

“what time is it” you ask finally rubbing your eyes. when you were done Conrad gave you his phone to look at the clock but the first thing you saw was you. the photo he took this morning. “con did you take this right now” you asked looking into his eyes

“yes do you like it” he asked looking to see if you were mad but he only saw a smile form on your face

“it’s cute i need one now too” you say trying to let go of his grip to get up and get a muffin

“no stay” he says grumpy

“i need one of those muffins, i’ll come back” you say prying at his hands

“fine i’ll race you” he says getting up and trying to find a shirt as you do the same when you did. you ran out the door fighting Conrad downstairs almost falling like ten times.

“woah” you here from downstairs

“i thought we were going to go into war right now” Jeremiah joked

“shut up” Conrad said hitting Jeremiah’s chest

“oh hey y/n didn’t know you were still here” Laurel said

“yeah I accidentally fell asleep to superbad” you say which wasn’t a lie. it was hard to lie to Laurel she could smell bullshit from a mile away.

“wait what happened between you guys” Taylor asked looking at your neck making you hide your hickeys with your hair

“nothing, we just made up” you said looking at her and the last muffin

“more like made out” Belly added which made you send her a death stare which caused you to lose the muffin to Conrad

“fuck you” you whisper to him

“oh but you already did” he said with the most shit eating grin you’ve ever seen as he eats the muffin. when you hit his stomach he hands over the muffin with a loud groan

“thank you” you say kissing him

“eww get a room” Jeremiah said

“we just came out of one” Conrad said as quick as the speed of light making you look at him with wide eyes

“I missed this” Susannah said “y’know ever since you left y/n he has never been this chipper”

“is that so” you say looking at Conrad all this time you thought he was fine especially with all the girls he dated

“so true” Steven added

“we missed you” Belly said. she meant it in the way you could finally be in the same room as all of them without having to walk on eggshells “also Cam told me to give you this” it was your uno cards from the other night

“thank you” you smile at her

“give me another bite” Conrad said as he wraps his arms around your waist and you practically feed him “thank you” he said which followed by an mhm coming from your mouth

“want to go to the beach later” you asked looking up at him to see if he would agree or not

“sure” he replied. making you already excited and smiling back at the muffin before taking a bite and feeding another piece to Conrad

“can we go at night” he questioned

“and skinny dip” you whispered for only him to hear which made him already look forward to see the moon.

“this is seriously cute” Taylor says to Belly who nods

“i love you” Conrad said to you kissing the top of your head as he saw how everyone was so welcoming of the new couple

“i love you more” you say looking up at him which made him kiss you

—-

a/n: part two..??

3K notes · View notes

dr3c0mix · 1 year

Text

Eat Your Heart Out

Yandere!Zombie Horde x Male Reader

Cw: Apocalyptic world, nsfw, mention of death, dub-con, poly relationship, gangbang (yup uhuh this is happening)

A terato request by @xweirdo101x, hope you like it! (*´∀`*)/

💀 You don't remember the last time 'normal' was the norm in your life. Bustling streets became barren and gigantic cities were nothing but ruins and hot spots for survivors or whatever monsters ruled the surface now. Ever since the start of the virus outbreak, the world fell apart into something out of an apocalypse movie, where the only rule was survived and pray the infected doesn't find you.

💀 You could remember however, how this all started. not only was it because of a virus, but it was man-made. It was supposed to be humanity's saving grace, a way to cure all ailments and boost the abilities of whoever took it, but it turned out to be a horrific world-destroying disease that ruined the mind of everything it infected. Humans, animals, plants, almost everything mutated into mindless, bloodthirsty monsters.

💀 You winced at the memories of seeing the news on tv, the sight of people running and screaming from infected, their snarls echoing in your mind as the memory of seeing your friends die in front of you one by one flashed in your mind. You groan, knowing how hopeless it was in this world, but your will to live was too strong.

💀 Living in the ruins at was your town isn't so hard, there was always food to scavenge for in the old mall which you lived in, and you were the only one left to your knowledge so there was no competition for supplies.

💀 Although there was a tiny problem...

💀 A small horde of zombies decided to take residence in the mall as well. Unlike their movie counterparts, they weren't heaps of rotting flesh but pale-looking creatures that looked like they didn't eat in days, albeit with bits of their flesh missing but nothing too gross. They still moaned and groaned but at least they didn't smell from a mile away. At first you were very weary of them, but after a certain encounter, you found out they never seemed to be interested in attacking you.

💀 They were surprisingly docile, only getting aggressive at other monsters that wandered in the mall.

💀 You didn't know the virus mutated once again, allowing certain infected to regain a bit of their consciousness.

💀 The horde met each other through wandering aimlessly before bumping into one another, they formed somewhat of a pack or group of sorts, knowing they were all different from the rest of the monsters that infested the world.

💀 You noticed the horde would be around wherever you went, the food court, the arcade, the cinema, it was like they were following you.

💀 Although they never tried to eat you at first sight, you still didn't want a fight with an entire horde, so you avoided them whenever, much to their dismay.

💀 You would then see one of two of them follow you around. You'd be spooked for a bit before realizing they would copy anything you did. You jumped and yelped and the zombie following you would do the same.

💀 The zombie would coo and purr at you, sniffing at the air like a lost pup. You hesitantly put down your weapon and walk closer to him. You get out a soft 'hello' and the zombie gurgles out a 'hi' back, making you utterly astonished, taken aback by the zombie's intelligence.

💀 Ever since then you would study the horde and their behaviors. They all had different personalities which intrigued you further. You decided to give them names as you couldn't just call them 'zombies' all the time.

💀 One with the flesh from his right arm missing was named 'Screw' because of his tendency to collect shiny bits and bobs from the ground of broken objects. He was shy but loved to show you the things he's collected.

💀 Another had parts of his ribs showing, but surprisingly nothing inside was named 'Ribs' as he fiddled with his most of the time. He was curious and a bit hyper, always wandering the most and the fastest among them.

💀 One, which was probably the smartest, had only one eye, which he could move from one socket to the other by tilting his head was 'Soda' because he had the quirk of copying you eating or drinking. One time he copied you drinking a bottle of soda pop and he gurgled in happiness over the fizzy taste. He knew what certain things were if you told him and he recognized objects in pictures like dogs or planes, things you haven't seen since the first wave.

💀 The last and most likely the leader was named 'Bo' as he had a dog tag on him, probably from serving the military when he was human. Despite his stomach being missing he was weirdly strong, always protecting the rest of the horde when there were monsters that were more aggressive than most.

💀 You and the horde quickly grew a bond, sometimes they even found food for you or protected you from danger or even other zombies. You never knew what drove them to be so protective, but you were happy you didn't have to live alone anymore.

💀 You noticed the horde being more affectionate, being found wandering closer and closer to where you usually stayed. You figured it was because they were so close to you until one managed to make its way into the boarded-up store you lived in.

💀 It was Screw looking through your clothes, sniffing and rummaging your shirts and underwear, you remember they relied on smell a lot and assumed he wanted to look for you and followed your scent into your home.

💀 Unbeknownst to you, they were absolutely in love with you. They came to the mall for refuge and found something much better, a lovely little mate to call theirs, one soft and squishy and warm and very very tough, something that is important when surviving in the wastelands. The times where you would touch them whether it was a light brush on their hands or pats on their shoulders of heads were the best. Your warm body making contact with their cold, dead ones.

💀 The horde had enough of you hiding and running away from them all the time, playing a teasing game of cat and mouse with them, they wanted to take care of you don't you see? They won't hurt you! You're their little mate!

💀 Bo sent Screw to track you as he was always the one to follow you around back when they first came to the mall. He followed your scent to a small hole that was hidden behind a dumpster. He crawled inside and was hit with the most powerful smell of your sweet scent he could ever encounter. He coos, knowing he found your little nest.

💀 The others were standing by the dumpster, waiting for a signal from Screw that the area inside was safe for them to enter. Meanwhile you were trying your best to shoo Screw out, scared that he might hurt himself with all the delicate objects and weapons you kept in your home.

💀 Ribs heard your voice and gurgled happily, quickly crawling inside, Bo and Soda going in after him.

💀 You finally got a purring Screw in your hands as you spot the others entering your home through one of the entrances you made. You feel your eye twitch as you try to process what was going on.

💀 Screw was happily cooing in your arms as Soda limps over to you smiling and chittering, his hands on your arms as Bo curtly moves closer to you like a guilty puppy.

💀 You then notice you didn't see Ribs and you turn around as you're tackle-hugged to the ground by the zombie along with Screw, the two of them cuddling and rubbing themselves on you as you try to wriggle out of their hug.

💀 Soda leans down beside you three as Bo does the same, the four undead men now cooing and purring all over you.

nsfw under the cut !!

💀 You try to calm them down until you feel Soda's cold breath on your neck. You shudder as he licks and bites on your sensitive skin, leaving hickies and marks on your neck and shoulders.

💀 Screw sees Soda giving you affectionate bites and cups your face to kiss you. You try to get him off you, but he gripped your thigh in response to your resistance.

💀 Bo claws and grabs at your crotch area as Ribs held your hands, kissing and nuzzling into them lovingly. You let out a moan from all the stimulation and you feel your cock twitch from under your pants. Bo chitters at the tent that has formed and rips off your pants as easy as unwrapping a present.

💀 Your cock springs up as precum runs down from your tip. Bo purrs and brings his mouth to your member, his tongue swirling around it as you feel the purrs in his throat from the taste he's feeling.

💀 Never have you previously considered letting their mouths near you, but now you couldn't help but find pleasure in them kissing and licking you so lovingly, like their viral hunger for flesh was twisted into something more...lustful...

💀 Bo pushed himself off of you and aligned your ass to his now throbbing cock as you hear the scratching of denim and faint zips of zippers being pulled with soft coos.

💀 He prods at your hole with his dick before slowly ramming it in your hole. You felt the others' cocks next to you as you take Screw and Soda's members, pumping them gently, earning gurgles of delight from the two.

💀 Ribs places one of his hands on your cheeks and pumps his cock next to your mouth, asking for consent. You chuckle and open your mouth, making Ribs chitter and thrust his cock into your throat, fucking your face excitedly.

💀 All you could think about was how much pleasure you were feeling, you came many times along with them, your hole getting filled to the brim with their seed. The cold temperature of their skin was merely an after-thought as they held onto you, your warm insides keeping their dicks hard for you.

💀 After you all were done, you were drenched in sweat and your hole was seeping cum, your penis twitching from the overstimulation from the gang bang you were the focus of. They brought you to your bed and huddled around you, they didn't need to sleep but they stayed by your side gurgling to each other how cute and adorable their mate is.

💀 Now you don't really have to leave your little home as they would always keep you gently nestled in the bundle of blankets and soft things they found around the mall. They would take turns with whoever would stay by your side for the day as the rest wandered around in search of food or trinkets to bring back to you and maybe a survivor or two for a little snack.

💀 All in all, they can't get enough of you, and you can't help being stuck with a zombie cuddling you/fucking your brains out 24/7

i didnt mean to write them so asfjnakfeqkgkaeg they are such little meow meows i cant-

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neteyamsmoon · 25 days

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I need to let out my inner slut and tell you how much I want neteyam x human reader getting eaten out by him for the first time 😭😭

A helping friend

~ Summary : As the great friend Neteyam is, he always helps you and teaches you something new. But one day, he taught you what pleasure feels like.

~ Warnings : human reader, oral (fem receiving), dom!Neteyam, sub!Reader, first time, virginity loss, non-con, size difference, praising <3

~ Word count : almost 1.5k

~ Translations : narlor - beautiful ; yawntutsyìp - little loved one ; sevin - pretty (female) ; syulang - flower

It is true that you and Neteyam are best buddies since you were little. You two were always with one another, never being alone. If you were somewhere, Neteyam was after you and vice versa.

As time passed and you both grew older and became even closer. He began bringing you new things he found interesting and taught you about them as much as he already knows. He wanted to make sure that even if you're human, you know everything about his clan. He wanted you to know every plant, animal and weapon, to identify them as quickly as possible.

He thought he taught you everything you needed to know, but he was wrong.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Neteyam is finally free. All his duties for today are finished and he can rest in peace. He takes his bow and walks back to his family's hut, desiring a much deserved nap. Neteyam's a busy man because the role of the next Olo'eyktan doesn't come just like that, he has responsibilities too.

He enters the hut and places his weapons and warrior garments next to the flap, in their original spot. His golden eyes scan the area and find out he's alone. His parents must have left and his siblings are out somewhere, doing something probably crazy.

A sigh leaves his mouth and he storms out of the hut. He can't stay like that, alone. But he decides to visit his little human.

You are the most annoying thing he has ever met but he won't trade you for anything in the world. You are funny too, something he adores but also hates at the same time since your humour can be a bit too much for him.

Neteyam walks towards the lab, his long strides carrying him the distance as he arrives in just a few minutes. He pushes the door open and extends his large arm to grab a breathing mask. He brings it to his neck and lets it hang loosely around it as he lifts the mask to his nose and breathes in and out.

Neteyam makes his way to your room, knowing the way like the back of his hand. There, he sees you lying flat on your bed, a book in your hands. You are wearing an oversized t-shirt of Spider's since he doesn't wear them and a pair of shorts that belong to you and reach just below your butt. Neteyam had always joked about the way you looked but not in a bad way. He likes the way your body looks and wants you to know that.

With great care, he goes towards you and lets his big body fall on top of your fragile one, earning a surprised yelp from you.

"Get off!" you demand and instead of moving off of you, he chuckles and wraps his long arms around you, looking yours inside his to keep you close.

"It's not funny Teyam." you sigh and try to wiggle out of his grasp only for him to hug you tighter.

"Don't wanna." he mumbles in the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin. "I like to stay here, on top of you." you feel like going crazy. Besides him being heavy as fuck, he is also stubborn and hard to convince.

"You are going to crush me. Get off so we could talk like two normal people!" now your patience is running off but Neteyam doesn't pay attention. Man is in his own world.

"Have I ever told you I'm not normal?" you don't need confirmation, he is teasing you and has that smug smile on his face. You want to slap him hard. Right now, right here. But you can't! Why? Because he has you trapped underneath him. What made you choose a behemoth as your best friend?

You want to speak again, but he is quick to cut you off, "I brought you nothing today... but I guess I could show you something new." his raspy voice lingers in your ears for a moment longer. Something new?

"What do you mean, Teyam? You said you didn't bring me anything for today?" you ask but he chuckles again.

"Have you ever..." he stops speaking as his large hand sneaks its way to the band of your shorts, pulling at it before letting go of it and watching it slap against your hip. You breath hitches in your chest at the thought of him touching you. It's true that you never touched yourself before because you didn't know how. You wanted your first time to be special, not you masturbating yourself.

"No..." you let out a shaky breath as he runs one long finger across your already soaked folds, collecting all your juices.

"Then why don't we try, huh?" he's teasing you, enjoying the fact that from someone with attitude he turned you into a mess who can't even comprehend her own words.

You don't know if you should. Yes, you are best friends and trust each other with your lives but this, you don't know if you can allow him to take away your virginity.

As if he's sensing your discomfort, Neteyam places a wet kiss on the back of your nape.

"I will make you feel good, narlor. Let me give you a taste of what you never experienced." his plea sounds so good that you almost nodded. His large digit rubs circles on your clit, and you involuntarily arch your back in his chest.

"There you are. I knew you would like this." he continues to rub your bud, his eyes never leaving your tiny frame that was trapped under his mass.

"Neteyam..." "I'm right here yawntutsyìp. Tell me you like it, tell me you want more." when you don't answer, he pulls back. All the pleasure you felt is now gone like it wasn't even there. A whine leaves your mouth at his action, regretting not responding to his question.

"See what you did? You always talk but now you can't tell me 'yes'?" he lifts himself off of you and rolls you over on you back, your calves being put over his thick thighs.

"You are rude." you point your finger at him but he smirks down at you. Gently, he pulls down your shorts and is surprised not to see anything else under.

"Nothing? It's like you were calling for me." Neteyam leans down and takes a long breath, your scent intoxicating him. Your aroma is what Neteyam is addicted to from now on. His blue lips make contact with your hot skin, leaving sloppy kisses along your stomach and inner thighs.

He lowers his head between your small thighs and dives in. His lips wrap around your clit and sucks on the small bud as he teases your entrance with his thick fingers. You throw your head back and close your eyes tightly, the pleasure intensifying with his mouth on you. You look down at him and he's already staring, never breaking eye contact. His piercing stare makes you wet if not wetter. Neteyam can feel his fingers getting soaked around your lips and smirks, the corner of his lips tugging upwards.

His mouth releases your clit with a wet pop as he lowers his head, his hands coming to your thighs to spread them even wider. When his large tongue enters you, your eyes roll back from the overwhelming pleasure. You back arches hard and you unintentionally push Neteyam's tongue deeper into you. Of course this doesn't go unnoticed by him as he moves it in and out of you, his flat nose rubbing against your clit with every thrust.

"Fuck — Nete, I'm close.." you whimper and grip at his braids. Neteyam hums in response as he continues to lap at your juices like a hungry animal. A loud pornographic moan leaves your mouth as the coil in your stomach snaps.

Neteyam pulls back and wipes away your slick from his chin and jaw with the back of his hand, gazing down at your now numb form.

"You sounded so pretty, sevin." your eyes roll at his comment before they drift to the ceiling. Why didn't you do that earlier? You didn't know how to touch yourself but also didn't want to make a fool of yourself.

"Thank you. Thank you for showing me... for, teaching me what pleasure feels like. I think that's the best lesson I ever got from you." you say weakly, catching your breath though there is truth behind those words. Neteyam nods at your words and comes closer to you, lying beside you and curling his big body around yours.

"Always, syulang." he presses a kiss on the top of your head before he drags a blanket over you, wrapping you in it like a baby. He hugs you tightly to his chest and closes his eyes, drifting off to sleep with you in his embrace and heart.

#property-of-neteyam #𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐈—requests #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x female reader smut #neteyam x human #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x reader #neteyam smut #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam scenario #neteyam series #neteyam suli x reader #neteyam x you

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gojonanami · 7 months

Text

MEANT TO BE ✴︎ SUGURU GETO

✴︎ summary: when Suguru defects, he asks you to come with him -- but he's not going to take no for an answer. ✴︎ cw: 18+, dead dove, do not eat, smut, dub/con, degradation (use of "monkeys"), kidnapping, hostage, yandere(?)! geto, mentions of violence (no graphic descriptions), fingering, (afab!receiving), oral (afab!receiving), reader is a follow sorcerer at jujutsu tech. ✴︎ wc: 6,046

“Come with me,” when those words left Geto’s mouth, you knew he had truly lost his mind.

“Come with you?” You repeat, as you turn slowly from your kitchen sink, your muscles tense — your cursed weapon was in your bedroom, your cursed technique wouldn’t be enough to stop him, and your cellphone was on the counter between the two of you, “Suguru, I just got a call from Satoru, not twenty minutes ago about what you’ve done-"

“And what have I done, besides try to do what’s right?” And he steps towards you, one hand in his pocket, and you step back, reaching for your phone that you thought laid on the counter behind your bag, only for him to wave it in front of you, “I thought you of all people would see that,”

Your face twists in disgust, “You killed innocent people—"

“I killed monkeys,” he spits through gritted teeth, “I killed monkeys who do nothing but produce curses and kill sorcerers. Why should the strong live subservient to a race of lower beings?”

You blink, “Do you hear yourself, Suguru? What happened to the strong have to protect the weak?”

“Why should the strong have to watch all the people they care about die, only to die at the hands of the supposed weak?” his gaze is dark, eyebrows knit together, “if you join me—"

“I’m not joining you—"

“—we can be together,” you stare at him, and he steps closer, again, and this time you don’t step away, “in a new world, we could rule over a new age,”

“Fuck you,” you scoff, as you move towards the door, “I thought Satoru was the one with a god complex, not you,”

And in a moment, he has you pinned against the wall, arms above your head, “I’ve been patient with you, love, but unfortunately I’m not in the business of taking no for an answer,” and he presses a kiss to your neck, making you shiver, “either you come with me, or I’ll let Satoru find your remains splattered against your walls,”

Your heart lurches, fear slowly settling in, as you realize this wasn’t Suguru - your Suguru who you spent afternoons with messing with Satoru, your Suguru that waited for you with an umbrella to walk back to Jujutsu High when it was raining, your Suguru that gently kissed you in a classroom when you were being far too hard on yourself — no, this was Geto, a special grace curse user.

“Will you really kill me?” You ask slowly, willing your voice to stay even, “after everything, you’ll make the choice to kill me, and no one else from Jujutsu High,”

“I don’t want to, sweetheart. There’s no meaning, no meaning without you,” his lips curl in a cruel imitation of what his smile was, “but if you leave me no choice because, I can’t let you live if you’re not by my side,”

A bitter chuckle leaves your throat, “Is this supposed to be romantic? Am I supposed to fall into your arms at the prospect of living?” you spit in his face, “fuck you.”

He flinches, his mouth agape, as he wipes the spit from his cheek with his thumb, “I thought you’d say that,” and then the plane of existence is cracked open behind him, as a swirl of curses manifest and you close your eyes, and wait.

You had no regrets.

But you do when you wake.

Your head aches, fuck, and you can’t get your bearings, your ears are ringing — a jolt shoots up your spine, as your eyes adjust to the darkness. A curse? An enemy?

No, it was both.

Suguru stands in front of you, hands in his pocket, “Hello my love,”

“Fuck you,” you spit with as much venom as you can muster, as you struggle to move, your hands chained down in bindings that restricted your cursed energy, “fuck-"

“Don’t be in such a rush, we’ll get to that part,” and his voice is so lilting, it sends a chill down your spine.

“You touch me, and I’ll break every bone in your body,” you say through gritted teeth, and his lips curl into a smile, a small chuckle parting his lips.

“And how could you do that, my love?” He steps forward, as his fingers hold your chin, “you’re mine to do with what I wish,” and your voice catches in your throat, as real fear crawls it’s way up your stomach, “but I don’t care to force my affection into you, I’ll have you begging for it soon enough,”

And your stomach turns, as he steps away from you again, “so what do you call this?” You ask quietly, as you lift your chained wrists.

“A matter of circumstance,” he frowns, as he holds his head, “I hate to do this, but I must remind you of how much you love me, how much we love each other, and until you remember, I cannot allow you out of those restraints.”

“I’ll never love you, with or without them,” you surge forward, the restraints grating against your skin, “I never loved you to begin with,”

He looks at you, with almost pity, “We both know that’s not true,” you waver under the weight of his gaze and you despise how you can’t deny it, “was the first time we shared a kiss a lie? After we had gone on that mission where we saw far too many horrors for children to see? Was it a lie those nights you came to my dorm to sleep in my arms when you couldn’t otherwise? Was it-“

“I loved you,” you whisper, “the you were before - the you that wasn’t a murderer, the you that—"

“The me that was allowing us to live under the thumb of these disgusting monkeys, the ones who kill us and let us be killed for their sake, while the corpses of my friends and sorcerers pile up like sacrifices on a pyre,” and you know he’s talking about Haibara now, “I couldn’t continue to live for a world like that, and I couldn’t allow you to continue living in it either,”

“Haibara would hate who you’ve become,” you whisper quietly into the darkness, as he glances back at you, no emotion stirring in his expression, as if he’s already thought this a million times before.

“But at least he would be alive,” your mouth open and closes, as tears burn at your eyes, “and I couldn’t stand to watch a world where more of my comrades would die for a cause that was setting them up for failure — I couldn’t stand for a world where I would lose you—"

His voice breaks, and you shake your head.

“You lost me sooner, by leaving, by killing innocent people-“

“No one is innocent in this world,” he cuts you off, “everyone’s hands are bloodied one way or another - just by living, humans contribute to the death of sorcerers, creating curses that inevitably lead to someone’s demise - whether it’s another human or a sorcerer,”

“It’s not their fault that they create curses—"

And he gives a bitter laugh, “Then whose fault is it? I never took you to be naive, my love,”

“Don’t call me that,” and he gives a twisted smile.

“Why wouldn’t I? When I love you,” he steps closer, holding your chin, “I love you so much I’m willing to risk you despising me, just so I can call you mine,”

“I’ll never be yours,” and he leans forward, making you squeeze your eyes shut, but he presses his lips to your forehead.

“You already are,” and he turns to leave, his robes sweeping behind him, “and I’ll get your heart too — one way or another.”

You only can keep track of the days by Geto’s visits. He is sure to visit you in the evenings, after his work is done. And each day he comes back more bloodied than the one previously. He always washes himself with the sink in your cell, before he turns to you.

“I want you to see what these people are — nothing more than animals. Animals that make money or curses or both - tools that run their course,”

“Just because you keep me chained up in here doesn’t mean you have to bore me to death as well,” you hang your head, and he looks at you, tilting your chin up with his fingers.

And he tries a different tactic, “You have been refusing your food for days, when are you going to eat? You can’t go on like this,” his voice has an edge of concern, “there’s nothing in the food that can harm you,”

“Says the kidnapper,” you mutter, “I’m not hungry,” and your stomach almost growls on cue, and a chuckle escapes his lips.

“Your body tends to betray you, my love,” and he grabs your food, lifting a spoonful of fried rice to your lips, “eat,”

“I’m not—“ and he raises an eyebrow — and you scowl, “I don’t want to be fed by you,”

“You didn’t mind before - you insisted I feed you between classes. Always vending machine junk too—"

“It wasn’t junk—it was—"

“An acquired taste,” he waves you off, his lips curling into a smile, “well, I always fed you, and I always will, so please?” And he offers you the spoon. You glance at him, before taking the spoonful.

And you note the bags under his eyes, and the shallowness of his face, “Have you been eating? Or sleeping?”

And he looks up, offering you another spoon, “I-"

“You haven’t been,” you shake your head, “and yet you have the gall to tell me to eat,” and you take the spoon from his hand, offering it to him, “it’s not poison, right?”

And he cracks a small smile, taking the spoonful, “you don’t have a poison cursed technique that I don’t know about?”

“You wouldn’t be alive still if I did,” and he laughs at that, and the sound makes your stomach flip — just like the first time you heard him make it for you when you had one-upped Satoru. The first time that you realized you wanted to be the one to always make him laugh like that.

Days pass, and his visits become more frequent. He doesn’t tell you of the people he murders - he learns better than to tell you - but the blood on his clothes doesn’t escape your notice. But he tells you of the sorcerers he finds that are oppressed — tells you of the two girls he’s taken under his wing. But each day, he looks more tired than the next, until you call him over to you.

“Lay down,” and he blinks, “you need to sleep,”

“I-"

“You look terrible,” you say bluntly, “lie down,” and he glances at your bed that you sat on the edge of, the chains around your wrists.

He moves towards the bed, lying down, but his head doesn’t lay on the pillow, but instead your lap, “Geto-"

“Suguru,” he corrects, peering up at you, his eyes barely staying open, “please,” and your resistance breaks, the exhaustion of being alone, the need for human contact, the softness of his body against yours - sends your walls crumbling to dust. Your fingers comb through his dark locks, softly undoing the tangles in them. And his breathing evens with time, as you lie back against the wall.

“Suguru,” you whisper into the darkness, as your eyes shut as well, and you don’t see his lips curl into a smile.

You don’t realize you fall asleep as well, until you wake a few hours later, and you’re asleep against his chest, his warm arms engulfing you. And you could swear the two of you were napping in an empty classroom, hiding from Yaga and Satoru, on a warm afternoon. And he’d whisper in your ear, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

But it wasn’t a classroom, it was a cell. And those hands no longer exorcised curses — they murdered humans.

But you could pretend. Just this once. You bury your head in his chest, and let yourself drift. But only this one time.

When you wake next, he’s gone, the only memory of him is the unchained bindings on your wrists, the faint smell of him on your clothes, and the ghost of his touch still clinging to you.

The next few days his visits grew more frequent, but only for sleep, as he nestled beside you, as you pretended to be asleep. It became routine. At first, you would sleep turned away, but by morning, you were sleeping nestled in his chest. And then you dared to ask, “why do you come here to sleep? You must have a better bed somewhere else,”

And he gives a phantom of a chuckle, “Well, that bed doesn’t have you, does it?”

And his hand dares to breach your skin before sleep steals away your consciousness, and you can’t help but let it happen — because it hurts too much to pull away.

And you don’t know why.

He doesn’t come back for several days. The only interaction you have is one of his followers bringing you food each day, and they don’t answer your questions regarding their ‘lord.’ And each day you grow more anxious, picking at your nerves like you picked at your scabs — incessantly and unnecessarily.

What if he was dead? What did it matter? All the more quickly you could return to jujutsu high, you could return to your life - a life without Geto. But the same question remained posed in your head — what if he was dead?

Would you see his dead body before jujutsu high disposed of it? Before they forced Shoko to autopsy it for any secrets the higher ups could lock away - as if he were a failed experiment rather than a person.

But he had killed so many - wouldn’t death only be right? Would that bring justice? Would that be peace? But the question remained, hanging in the forefront of your head, like a dead body from the rafters, a rope tied around their neck—

What if he was dead?

But days later, your door swings open and it’s him — “Suguru,” you nearly all but tumble out of your bed, scrambling to his side as your gaze swept over his form. Scarlet ran down his body, cuts, bruises, and scratches littered what was visible of his skin, “what happened?”

He doesn’t answer, a blank expression on his face, his hair come loose from his usual bun, bags under his eyes that tell tales of what he saw without him speaking a word of them. You reach for him tentatively, words scattered on the floor of your mind that you were desperately trying to collect, “is this your blood or someone else’s?”

“Both,” he murmurs, his eyes still far gone, as his gaze shifts to the floor, “I have no right to ask — but can you—I can’t stand to have anyone else touch me—“ and his voice breaks, breaks for the first time — the same voice that didn’t break after Riko’s death, the same voice that didn’t break after Satoru was taken away from him, the same voice that didn’t break after Haibara — it broke.

And it broke you.

“Strip,” you say simply, but you undo his robes for him, “I need to see what damage you’ve done to your body,” you busy yourself with undressing him to escape the fact that you’re undressing him. You had seen his body times before, at first in dorm rooms late at night, when you cuddled next to him, desperate for a comfort he could only provide, and then between heated kisses and intimate touches that left you near breathless and needy for him, and then distant embraces that left you feeling more lonely and far from him than before. But this was different.

He was different.

You stripped away the clothing to find him bloodied and bruised to an almost impressive, but terrifying extent. The blood smeared on his skin was mostly another’s — you learned once you started to clean his cuts and bruises with a damp rag, “Do you want to talk about it?”

His eyes slowly glide to you, cold as glaciers, “Do you want to hear about it?”

“I’m asking, aren't I?” you sigh, as his gaze drops once again, and your hands still, one of your hands drifting to his chin, tilting his eyes to meet yours, “Suguru-”

And he’s kissing you.

His lips are soft, just as you remembered. You remember the first moment you noticed his lips — it was when you had fed him a pocky after he had swallowed a curse, his brow scrunching with slight disgust — never quite getting used to the taste, but having grown as accustomed to it as he could (as far as someone could grow accustomed to swallowing what was akin to a vomit soaked rag used clean shit). You sat beside him, a pocky between your lips, as you offered him one in your hand. And his gaze softened, leaning down and biting the one between your lips instead. And then you couldn’t stop staring at his lips — wondering how they felt against yours.

He tasted like blood now, metallic and sharp as his jaw was now — no longer having the soft curve of childhood it was maybe a year ago. He swallows your gasp eagerly, giving you leeway to pull away, but you don’t. You can’t. Your lips press back into his, and he smirks against your lips, his arm wrapping around the middle of your back, so he was engulfing you even as he sat. His teeth bare down on your bottom lip, making you moan lightly, and his tongue sneaks between your lips with practiced ease, but it's no longer the sweet assault it once was — it's an onslaught, a razing of your defenses, and he knows the weaknesses of each curtain wall and bastion.

“Suguru, wait—” but he’s impatient, he’s always so impatient — the first time you had kissed, he couldn’t stop at just one kiss, he needed your lips to be kiss bitten red until he was satisfied. His hands are so large and calloused, gliding up your sides, as he pulls you into his lap, “we were talking,” you protest, but he empties the words from your head with his lips pressed to your jaw, “Why are you—”

“I don’t want to talk,” his raven locks fall in front of his face, his eyes somehow even darker, “I just want you, please,”

And your heart squeezes and breaks, the walls crumbling to nothing, as you lean in and kiss him this time, fingers threading through his his hair, while your other hand rests on his bare chest, if only to feel his heartbeat under your touch.

He was alive. Alive.

“Please,” you sigh, as he toys with the hem of your shirt, “don’t tease me,”

“Like you haven’t teased me with your existence each and every day I’ve known you, my love,” he chuckles, a noise deep from his chest that rumbles against your palm and sends a shiver down your spine, and he lifts your hand, kissing your wrist, his nose pressed against your pulse, “Do you know how much I want you? How much I need you?” and he answers the question for you, as he leans forward, his teeth graze your neck, pain and pleasure mixing in a twisted way.

“Suguru—“

He rises from his seat, looming over you, his arms sweeping — one behind you and the other holding your chin — it sends a chill down your spine, “I just arrived at a village where a child was being held - said to be cursed. But those monkeys were the ones who were—“ he cuts off, “I came too late. They had killed her - sacrificed her to purge their village of their curses - a five year old girl,” he frowns, his gaze falling, “they failed to realize they were the true curses. So I purged the world of their existence,”

You’re quiet for a moment, as he speaks, “she was a child and they ripped her to shreds,” and a tear slips down his cheek.

Your fingers brush away his tear, before you lean up and kiss him. Your lips glide against his lightly, “it’s not your fault,”

“I am always too late - I was there - I couldn’t-“ and you know he isn’t just talking about the girl anymore.

Or at least this one.

“What happened to Riko wasn’t-"

“He shot her right through the head in front of me,”

“You couldn’t sense him - Satoru could barely sense him with his six eyes—"

“Satoru could have stopped it—"

“Satoru died and came back trying to stop Toji,” you crush your lips to Suguru, if only to get him to stop talking, “there was nothing more you could do,”

“But I couldn’t stay,” he whispered, “I couldn’t watch more people die - more of my friends die, piled up like offerings on a pyre for animals who only kill us in the end,”

“I know,” you whisper, “I know-"

“You don’t,” his voice breaks, “all I could think about was finding your dead body one day,” you cup his cheeks again, pressing your lips to his forehead.

“I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, and he kisses you — and he tastes less like blood and more like him — his arms wrapping around your waist, as he pulls you closer, “Suguru,” you shouldn’t be doing this.

“I just want to feel good,” he murmurs, his eyes lidded with lust, “let me make you feel good, love,”

His lips brush yours, and the ravine between you shrinks to a crack, as your bodies bridge the gap, before tumbling over the cliff.

His hands are everywhere. His hands have mapped your body times before, but the gentle and awkwardness had all but faded, only leaving hunger. Already, his fingers are sliding under your shirt, calloused hands sliding over your bare skin.

His lips only pause when his hands run over a new scar you had gotten right before he had gone rogue, “How did you get this?”

And his eyes are dark, “I was on that mission, with Nanami and Haibara,” your gaze falls, as his fingers trace the scar, raised and angry still - just as he was, “we got separated. There was two grade 1s instead just the one we were told. I got this when it caught me by surprise,” you swallow thickly, “but I was lucky it was all I got,” you squeeze your eyes shut, “I sometimes wish it was me instead of-"

“Don’t say that,” his words are as sharp as they always were, sharp as his touch, sharp as the curses that he pushed past his lips and the ones that left them, “don’t ever say that,”

And his palm curls around your neck, “but-"

He yanks you into a brutal kiss, forcing you swallow his words, and his tongue, as you moan, as he tastes you, “Still the sweetest thing I’ve tasted, even with the stupid things that leave your mouth,” he almost growls, as he lifts you onto the bed.

“Suguru,” your back hits the mattress, barely bouncing against the springs before he looms over you - his smile was the same as it always was, but it sent a shiver down your spine - because you realize now how predatory it was, “are we—"

“You’re mine, love,” his lips hover over yours, teasingly so, as his fingers cup your chin and his breath warms your skin, sending heat to the tips to your already curling toes, “even if I did, we’d find our way back; one way or another,” his lips brush gently over the nape of your neck, “I’d always come for you — one way or another,”

Your lips meet again, and again, as his hands slide up your sides, but this time bringing your shirt with them, as he lifts it over your head. Your skin prickles at the cold air in the room and at his hot gaze dragging up your body.

“You’re still the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” he whispers, as his hands gently traces the curves of your body, and it makes you shiver - the hands that had slaughtered people earlier today could be this gentle with you.

“And I still think you’re far more beautiful than I am,” your fingers run through his jet-black locks, “everyone had a crush on you,”

He snorts, “Everyone?”

“You should have seen the looks you and Satoru always got,” you roll your eyes, “the two princes of Jujutsu High - and you, you had the personality to match,”

“Well I wasn’t concerned about everyone,” his hands slip over his waist, “I only had eyes for one other,”

“Satoru?” And he rolls his eyes.

“Okay two others,” and your hand reaches to smack him, but he’s got both your hands pinned, before he’s leaning down to kiss your neck, “so temperamental,” he chides, “what am I going to do with you, Princess?”

His other hand slips down your body, past the waistband of your shorts, ripping a gasp from your lips, “already so wet f’me,” his voice rasps with a chuckle, “you’ve been needing me for a while, haven’t you, baby?”

“Suguru—“ and his fingers between to tease your leaking folds, making you squirm under his touch.

“So perfect,” his long and lithe finger teases your lips apart, “I’m surprised you haven’t soaked through your shorts, probably thought about me every night I slept next to you - you were waiting for me to roll over and take you, weren’t you, baby?” And his finger finally slips in, your back arching and mouth in a silent ‘o.’

And he hums, as he begins to pump his finger, slowly at first, but it isn’t long before another joins, scissoring and stretching you, “you’re soaking the sheets, baby, such a dirty girl,” He leans down taking a nipple between his teeth, sucking harshly.

“Please,” it was too much, too soon, and he’s grinning as his teeth dig into your soft skin, a soft groan as he feels you clench around his fingers. He holds your legs down in place, humming as they shake under his touch.

“So fucking tight, can’t wait to feel you around my cock, Princess,” and you’re so fuckin’ close - wound too tight by his touch, by his presence, by him - and when his thumb rubs circles on your clit, your hips begin to ride his fingers. He chuckles, as he leans down to kiss you, “what would the people at Jujutsu High think? Seeing you ride my fingers like a slut? Probably think you’re locked away, waiting for them to save you, not begging for me to fuck you,”

“Sugu,” and he curls his fingers just right, just as he bends down to suck on your clit. You moan his name, as you fall apart, back arching as you make a mess all over his hand, but his mouth is there to clean it up. His hot breath is the only warning you get before his tongue begins to lap at your drenched folds.

“Never get enough of you creamin’ all over my fingers for me, pretty girl,” the noises he made as he licked, slurped, and sucked were enough to make you a mess, his lips shiny with your release, “how did I go so long without tasting you, baby? Almost makes swallowing curses worth it if I can eat you out after,” his words were as lewd as the sounds you made, your hips involuntarily fucking his mouth, as he moved his mouth to your clit again, and slipped two fingers in, “tasted so good the first time, gotta have another taste baby,”

And your initial whine turns into a moan, your fingers finding refuge in the soft locks of his hair, tugging him impossibly closer, as he’s bullying your overstimulated clit with his mouth. And he enjoys it as much as you do, grinding his aching erection into the mattress, his jaw aching as he’s desperate to taste every inch of you and slurp every drop of your pussy will give him. Your thighs close in on him, as he tongue fucks you over and over, gushing as he draws another orgasm from you.

“Sugu, oh my god-“ and that’s all the warning he gets before your back arches and your toes curl. He’s grinning against your folds as he eagerly swallows your release. The tension snapped like a wire that had been on the last fringes of holding you together, and you fell completely apart.

Luckily, Suguru was there to put you back together.

You’re panting, utterly blissed out as you watch him tug off his boxers, his dick already red and so pretty, pearly white bead of pre cum nearly dripping from the tip. You lick your lips looking at him, and he smiles, so sweetly that it sent a shiver down your spine.

“So needy for me, the man you had refused to love, and now look at you,” he leans down to kiss you, letting you taste the sweet and bitter taste of your release, “such a little slut for me, aren’t you sweetheart? What happened to that mouth on you?”

He drags his thumb down your bottom lip, as your eyes flutter down to his cock again, “I have better uses for my mouth,” you kiss his chest, teasing his skin with your tongue.

And then he’s shifting you, your legs pushed up and over his shoulders, as he drags his tip over your dripping folds, “I think I’ll have you use my mouth after I use this naughty cunt, let you clean our cum off me,”

“Sugu, please, fuck,” you cry, and god he can’t wait to see your pretty face cry, as he stuffs your mouth with his dick, but he had patience. He could wait - he had waited long enough.

“Gonna need you to beg for it,” he murmurs, groaning as your cunt nearly sucking his cock in, “you fought me so long and so hard and now here you are, so pliant f’me, so I need to hear it — who do you belong to?”

“Suguru—“ and his lips press to yours, sloppily and rough, as if he wants to steal the logic from your mind, but he already had from the moment his lips touched yours, “please,” you whimper, and he’s spanking your cunt.

“Please, what?” And his lips are curled in a grin as his lips trail kisses along your jaw, “gonna have to hear the words, my filthy girl,”

And you can’t - you need him, “I’m yours,” your legs lock around his shoulders, “I belong to you, you own me,”

Your words slip from a whine to a moan, as he sinks his length into you, inch by inch, and it’s enough for him to groan, fuck, it’s enough to make him cum on the spot, “you’re so tight, baby - it’s been too long since I’ve had you, gotta make this cunt remember my shape,”

“I wanted you so bad,” you gasp, as his hands grasp at your thighs, fingernails digging into your soft flesh, “but you kept getting farther away from me, and then you were gone,” and his gaze soften, even as you moan when he bottoms out, “I loved you - I love you—"

“I love you too - I always have,” his teeth drags into his thigh, sucking and soothing the mark, he presses his cheek to the skin, “I left because I didn’t want to hurt you - and I couldn’t rise to your level,” his fingers tilt your chin to meet his, “so I had to drag you down to mine,”

You moan as he gives a sharp thrust, “Fuck, Sugu,” as his hips slap against yours, all thoughts evaporating from your mind, as he fucks you, hard and fast, any words you knew dissolve away, leaving only his name behind (and a few choice swear words).

Meanwhile, Suguru can’t stop speaking, “Never gonna want to leave me again, my sweet girl,” he purrs, “look at this sweet cunt, it doesn’t even want let my cock go without sucking me back in,” his words nearly drowned out by the sloppy noises of both of your cum soaked skin meeting together in thrusts, “tell me you’ll never leave, tell me you’ll stay,” and his movements slow to a stop, as you whine, “tell me,”

“I’ll never leave you, I can’t,” you look up with eyes glassy with need, “can’t ever leave you, I love you,” and he’s fucking you harder, feeling your walls clench around him as you’re moaning his name as you cum. He comes undone too as you squeeze him, painting your insides with his thick cum. And you’re arching your back as you feel yourself full of him - so fucking good and full — as you come down from your high.

And then all too soon, he’s pulling out, only to flip you over, on all fours, “Not done yet,” he only murmurs, leaning forward over you, as his still hardening cock bumps against your sensitive clit, “gonna make sure you never forget who you belong to,” his fingers collect your mixed cum dripping down your thighs to only shove it back in your still overly sensitive cunt.

You lurch forward, knees buckling, as his fingers working you, “still so fucking tight even after I fucked you so good, Princess? Your cunt is still so needy for my cock,” he kisses your clit, before slapping it, the wet squelch enough to make you throb, “you ready for me, my love?” He grunts, raspy and raw.

“Please,” you whine, and he doesn’t sink in slowly this time - your cunt nearly sucks him in, your mixed releases letting him slip in with ease, “f-fuck,”

And Suguru hums, all too pleased, “Not so defiant now that you’re fucked out for me, baby,” his hips piston into you, and all you can feel, smell, and taste is him, all you can hear is your blood in your ears and the sloppy noises of Suguru fucking you.

You were so close — you were so stretched out, his thrusts balls deep, as his hand reached around to turn your face to his to kiss your lips. It was sloppy, his calloused hand gripping your neck, lightly squeezing, as his tongue tasted your mouth, intent on having all of you, swallowing your moans eagerly.

“Doing so well for me, Princess,” he praises, his jaw set as your walls clench at his cock, “such a fucking good girl for me,” It was as lewd as his other hand reaching around to to rub roughly at your folds, “need you to squirt for me, need you to drench me,” and it’s too much for you.

You moan his name, shaking as you cum, squirting all over his cock as your release slides down your thighs, and Suguru follows shortly after, with a few rough thrusts, his hands grabbing your shaking hips to hold in place as he spurts his cum again inside you.

He’s panting and groaning, as he slips from you, a swear leaving his lips as he pulls out, his seed dripping down your thighs as well.

And you’re slumping on the bed, your sheets sticky with your release and sweat, as he gently turns you over, your chest rising and falling as he settles on top of you. His fingers brush your hair from your face, “Can we discuss moving you to the main house with me now?” He asks softly, as he presses sweet kisses to your flushed skin.

“Yes,” you murmur, your lips slowly meeting his in a soft kiss, “as much as I don’t agree with your methods still, I can’t live a day without you,” and he smiles, “I can’t help but be drawn to you,”

“And that’s why I couldn’t let you go - there has to have been a meaning to this,” he smiles, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw, before he’s guiding your body so that you’re settled between his thighs, his cock brushing against your lips, “and now there always will be.”

✴︎ a/n: so this was inspired by a character ai (which i wanted to credit the creator but i can't find), but this was dark, so read the content warnings. i'm trying out different formats for my fics so excuse the changes. also i never was into geto until season 2 straight up hit me like the isekai truck.

#suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto angst #sab [mlist]

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txttletale · 4 months

Note

“of course having a law that allows corporations to own the work of artists for a one time payment and then make millions off that work without paying the artist a cent is worse than having no law at all.” In a world without IP, wouldn’t the corporations just do the same thing but without even the one-time payment? Like, they own the means to profit off of creative content anyway, so isn’t making them at least pay for the idea better than nothing? Or is it more that it’s not worth the tradeoff of letting them abuse IP against smaller creators?

well the thing is that not only do these corporations profit off the work (which ofc they would do without IP) but the original creators can't! if kurvitz tried to make disco elysium 2, or write a sequel to his novel, ZA/UM could sue him. the creator of ghost rider was in fact sued by marvel for selling sketches of the characters at cons. copyright is not just the ability to profit off a work but the exclusive ability to profit off of it to the exclusion of anyone else, including the original creator. american mcgee wanted to make a third alice game badly enough he asked EA to let him buy or license the property back and they said no. when yahtzee croshaw quit the escapist he had to rename and rebrand the show he'd been making for 15 years. john fogerty refused to play CCR songs for years rather than let a record label that he hated speech profits.

sure, without IP law corporations could still replicate people's creative works, but at least they couldn't legally prevent the original artists from continuing to create the things they love as they can now. what's happened to these artists is a real theft, unlike so-called "IP theft", because they have been deprived of something they created and loved!

#ask

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perlelune · 2 months

Text

Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | ii.

Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

The clock catches your eye the second your ethics class ends. You pick up your things and make your way to the exit. It’s lunch time. You can’t erase the conversation you had with Coriolanus from your mind. His eyes, his smile, his smell, his voice…everything about him makes your head a little cloudy. Boys have never been your concern before, especially because of Mother. It’s not that she ever forbade you to date, experiment. It was more of a silent understanding, a quiet agreement. There are more important things than boys in this world. Like science, or rebuilding the world after the war. Mother herself has only one love. Her research. So you always supposed it is your duty to aim to be the same way. Therefore, while everyone around you talked about crushes and first kisses and…other things since middle school, you’ve kept your head in your books.

It’s not like you never noticed how pretty some of the boys at the Academy were. Boys like…Coriolanus Snow. It just always felt forbidden. As Volumnia Gaul’s daughter, you had to be above it all.

Hence your predicament. What does someone like Coriolanus Snow want from you?

The question keeps swirling inside your head as you approach the cafeteria. His attention never swayed in your direction before. Towards girls like Persephone, Clemensia or Livia, perhaps. But you? The very idea is ludicrous.

You make a stop near the lunch room’s door. It’s already brimming with students. Animated chatter fills the cafeteria and you dourly note the groups that have formed. Even Lysistrata, the infamous loner, has found her tribe with the likes of Io Jasper, Persephone Price and some red-haired boy you don’t know. A few months have already passed. You should have found a crowd by now, a group of like-minded people that’d tolerate your presence. But every time you approach someone, you get tongue-tied and your mind blanks. How does one even strike up a conversation out of the blue? It still stuns you that Coriolanus spoke to you with such ease. Though you surmise the Snow heir is comfortable with people in a way you’ll never be.

Your gaze travels to his table. Coriolanus and his friends. They seem absorbed by an intense conversation, Festus waving his arms while Clemensia shakes her head in apparent disbelief.

You shift the books between your arms. Feet rooted to the floor, you struggle to move. You watch the exchange, pondering how to weave your way through the cafeteria without drawing too much attention to yourself.

As you contemplate your next move, blue eyes find yours across the cafeteria. Coriolanus’ lips curve upwards. Your pulse soars. The rest of the table seems to note your presence. Clemensia places a hand in front of her mouth and laughs. Then the rest of them, bar Coriolanus, begin to laugh as well.

Your chest clutches, fire creeping inside your cheeks. They must be laughing at you. Of course. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. This was a stupid idea. Stepping back, you dash through the hallways. The library will be a more appropriate spot for your lunch break, as it often is. Quieter. Less crowded. Safe and familiar. The wooden rows brimming with books are your shield against the noise and chaos of the world outside.

It’s where you belong anyway. Besides, you still have your notes of the morning to peruse and memorize. You can’t afford to fall behind.

The rest of the week transforms you into a nervous wreck. After you fail to show up for lunch, Coriolanus’ unnerving cobalt stare appears to follow you everywhere. Whether it’s in the lecture hall, the hallways or even the library, your safe haven, the Snow heir’s presence always lingers near. Still, you try to resume your usual routine, both at the Capitol University and the Citadel.

Tasks are never amiss in Mother’s lab. Between the mutts to feed, filing the archives and cleaning the subjects’ glass cases, something always requires your attention anyway. All the important jobs aren’t yours to have. Just menial tasks. It’s all Mother said you can manage anyways. Back when you were little, your mother paid sporadic attention to you. She’d spend time with you, show you the specimens, talk about her work. However she quickly lost interest in you once she realized your lack of ambition, intellect and inclination for casual cruelty. For a fleeting stretch of time, you know your mother harbored hope that you could succeed her, continue her research, complete her breakthroughs. Those hopes are now forever buried, along with any sliver of expectation Mother had for your future.

You couldn’t stomach the thought of her experimenting on live creatures and kept asking if they were in pain, or if they missed their family, if once she was done, she would send them back home. Mother grew annoyed by it. To this day, you feel she still holds that against you.

Once your work for the evening is done, you take a rare break in one of the empty offices. While you’re aware it’d be best to go over your flash cards for the upcoming exams, the motivation to do it isn’t with you today. The entire week all you’ve done is study, burning the midnight oil at both the University library and home. A break would be welcome. You’re craving it in fact.

So instead of your study books, you collect a novel from your leather satchel. Heart fluttering in anticipation, your fingers sweep over the cover. This one details the forbidden tryst between a prince and a castle maid. Your cheeks warm as you land on the scene you didn’t get to finish last time.

As you sink into the story, oblivious to the world around you, you don’t hear the soft steps circling closer to you.

Warm air fans over your shoulder as a deep voice erupts from behind you.

“I didn’t realize smutty romance novels were on the curriculum.”

Astonishment plucks a gasp from you. The swivel chair spins as you bolt to your feet, the book in your hands dropping to the floor with a heavy thud. Your eyes widen as Coriolanus’ towering frame invades your line of sight.

He slowly crouches to pick up your novel. As he gives it a quick once over, flipping through the yellowed pages, a smile blooms on his lips.

“These are smuggled from the Districts, aren’t they?” he inquires, a hint of disdain coating his utterance of the word ‘district’. Embarrassment flushes through you as Coriolanus’ gaze roams across the pages. “Interesting choice.” His eyes rise to meet yours. Your heart misses a beat. “Does Dr. Gaul approve?”

“N-Not really,” you confess with a small voice, fiddling with the cuff of your lab coat.

His smirk broadens at that.

The blond causes you to leap back as he snaps your book shut.

“I was expecting you at lunch the other day,” he says, edging closer to you.

Your mouth dries. “I was busy.”

Coriolanus’ brow quirks.

“Too busy for lunch with me?”

“It wasn’t just you.”

He pauses, searching your face. His silent scrutiny makes your nerves thrum. You freeze in your spot, hands squeezing the edge of the desk behind you.

After an eternity goes by, he states gently, “We weren’t laughing at you.”

Your jaw hangs slack. You feel self-conscious as his keen blue eyes hold yours, peeling the layers of you.

He heaves out a long sigh.

“Festus just said something stupid and Clemmie happened to look in your direction. I’m sorry you thought that.”

“I didn’t think anything,” you mumble, shrugging.

His face pinches ever-so-slightly.

“Yes.” He gets even closer, chest almost brushing yours. Your stomach tightens. “Yes, you did,” he articulates. “So I’m making sure you know. No one was laughing at you that day. And Clemmie wouldn't do that. She’s the nicest girl I know.”

You study Coriolanus, struck by the sincerity laced in his tone. You aren’t used to anyone considering your feelings. Besides, you don’t find it in you to argue, remembering Clemensia’s kindness on multiple occasions at the Academy. She is also one of the few wealthy students who never picked on the departed Sejanus Plinth for his roots in District Two, even defending him from Arachne’s cruelty on one occasion. Relief flows inside your chest. So you weren’t the reason behind their laughter that day. It feels strangely good, knowing that, especially coming from Coriolanus himself.

He cocks his head and scoffs, “We aren’t at the Academy anymore. Why would we do something this childish? That’s silly.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s a little silly,” you mechanically reply, something about his definitive tone making you feel dumb for even letting your mind wander there. You give a shaky nod. “Thank you.”

He hums as if he were lost in thought. His fingers then slide below your chin, startling you.

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know?”

Confusion has you blinking rapidly.

“I’m sorry?”

His digits latch around your jaw, his features disturbingly still.

“Just then, you lied,” he notes. “About it not bothering you. You don’t need to do that with me.” He pauses, tracing the curve of your bottom lip. “Besides, between you and I, you’re very bad at it.”

An anxious chuckle peals from your lips.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, curiosity evident on his features.

A hollow smile tugs your lips.

“It’s just that Mother says the same thing, that I’m a horrible liar.” It’s just one of the myriad of things you’ve always failed at. Fooling others and pretending.

Wars are won with heads, not hearts.

Coriolanus places his hand besides you on the desk, looming over you in a way that has your pulse quicken. You grow dizzy as his scent coats the air.

“You know…Clemmie and the girls were looking forward to meeting you,” he intones.

Disbelief fills you. “T-They were?”

“You’ve been so discreet during our Academy days. Everyone was just curious, that's all.” His feathery lashes sag, caressing his cheekbones. “About what you were like.”

“Oh.”

“Well, you’re a bit of an enigma, angel. The daughter of the Head Gamemaker who never talks to anyone. That makes people wonder.”

“I’m not that interesting.”

Coriolanus takes a long minute to drink you in. Your skin tingles with his intense focus. Somehow in the dim light of the office, his blue eyes seem to come alight with a strange glint.

“I disagree,” he slowly states. “I think you’re very interesting.”

You lick your lips. “I’m really not.”

Your only answer is that cryptic smile he likes to wear.

“So…you still owe me lunch.” He slants his head. “We can go together if you like.”

“Together?”

“Yes. You don’t have to feel scared if I’m with you.”

When you bow your head, hesitation lingering within you, he tilts your chin up.

“No one would dare make fun of you if I’m around. Trust me, angel.”

There’s an unfaltering certainty cinching his tone, as if repercussions were sure to befall whoever questions him.

Your forehead creases.

“You don’t have to do that, you know.”

“What?” he asks, his dark brows knitting.

“All of…that.” You turn away from him, reflexively gripping your forearm. “I-I’m fine on my own. Always have been.”

Surprise floods your insides when no snappy reply pours from his lips. Instead of answering, the blond leans away from you and releases your chin. He observes you as you remain still. You can’t help trying to figure out what thoughts bounce through his head. He must think you’re an idiot, isolating yourself like that, missing out on everything the world has to offer. If only he knew. There is no space for you in the world. Nowhere for you to fit. As Coriolanus heads for the door, the tension in your body melts a bit.

“I’ll see you in class,” he announces after several harrowing minutes of silence.

As he makes to leave, you’re hit with the realization that he still has your book in his hand.

“Coriolanus?” you call. He stops in his tracks, head pivoting towards you. “My book…”

This draws a subtle smile from him. Coriolanus makes no move to return your novel, turning his back to you as if you hadn’t called him out.

Mouth agape, you watch him take his leave without another word.

The next day, you think yourself free of Coriolanus Snow’s peculiar scrutiny. Right after the morning classes end, you head to the library. You are determined to enjoy a peaceful lunch break, have a few unenthusiastic bites of the stale sandwich you packed this morning and maybe get a head start on your molecular cell biology courses. Another topic that has you drowning in class, that you’ll need twice as much work to pass.

Naturally, however, the blond has other plans.

He shows up again while you’re sitting at the bottom of a shelf so high it nearly touches the vaulted ceiling of the library. You find him staring at you from the corner of your eye.

Your heart bounces inside your chest as your gaze crosses his.

He plops down next to you on the floor.

“Coriolanus,” you chide hotly, your voice just above a whisper. “You have to stop doing that.”

A lopsided smile decorates his handsome features.

“I like how flustered you get. It’s cute,” he replies, mirth dripping from his soft timbre. There isn’t an ounce of guilt in his words, as if the mere fact that your reaction entertains him is justification enough.

A frown mars your brow as your focus shifts back to your Biology book.

“Shouldn't you be having lunch with your friends?”

“Hm…someone’s missing at my table.”

Your nails sink into your palm, your frown deepening.

“You’re persistent.”

His raspy chuckle ripples through your skin.

“I prefer determined, angel,” he mutters, much closer than you’d like. “What are we reading today?”

“N-Nothing. Just going through my notes.”

“You don’t have to study all the time, you know.”

“No, I do.”

He hums his disapproval.

“You don’t.”

“I’m not like you, Coriolanus. I’m…” Your voice trails off. Your mind whirls as your spirits plummet. Mediocre? Dumb? Average? You couldn’t conjure the exact word, as each encapsulates a little bit of what you are. An anomaly amidst the best and the brightest in the Capitol. Regardless of your shortcomings, you want to prove Mother wrong. Besides, you’d feel so proud of yourself if you could stand on that stage one day and collect your diploma with honors. You bite your lips closed. “Nevermind.”

“You put a lot of pressure on yourself, angel.”

“Well, I don’t have a choice.” You try to ignore him. However it’s all for naught, the words blurring on the page as all sense and logic in the text is siphoned by Coriolanus’ unsettling blue stare. Your teeth clench as you sigh. “Are you just going to watch me…the entire time?”

“Maybe.” He pauses, licking his lips. “Or we could go to the cafeteria like I said.”

You gasp when he slams the book in your lap shut.

“I already told you-”

“You can’t hide away forever, angel,” he interrupts.

Ignoring your protests, Coriolanus grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet.

“Come,” he urges, already dragging you through the library.

“Wait, Coriolanus…” You almost topple over your own feet as you’re forced to keep up with his long-legged steps.

“I’m making a different choice for you, angel,” he chimes. He tosses you a teasing glance above his shoulder. “It’s okay, we don’t bite…Most of the time.”

Apprehension tangles your insides as you and Coriolanus approach the cafeteria. Coriolanus doesn’t hesitate as he crosses the threshold with your hand in his. All eyes rest on you and the Snow heir, some of the chatter dwindling while whispers fill the room. Heat creeps inside your face. Coriolanus ‘ friends too admire the strange spectacle, a mix of shock and interest mingling on their faces.

Once you reach his table, he pulls a chair out for you. You take a tremulous seat, trying your best not to cower beneath the curious eyes cast your way. Coriolanus sits next to you, his fingers clutching yours in encouragement beneath the table before he lets go of your hand.

Briefly lifting your eyes, you give a bashful wave.

“H-Hi,” you say.

Livia Cardew doesn’t say anything, her narrowed eyes drifting between you and Coriolanus like she’s desperately trying to solve a riddle that won’t yield its meaning. Ivy Briarose is too focused on her nails to pay attention to you.

Clemensia’s much perkier. She offers you her hand to shake. You take it.

“Nice to meet you, I’m-”

“I know who you are,” you reply. Your eyes widen as you note how strange a thing it is to utter to somebody you’ve never spoken to. But she takes it in stride, flashing you a sunny grin.

As you and the brunette shake hands, the sleeve of her dark blouse slides up her forearm, exposing a hint of the skin of her wrist. Your mouth drops in shock. The small patch of flesh is covered in scales, mottled in faint neon colors. This looks eerily familiar and your gaze lingers longer than it should.

Clemensia rushes to cover her scarred wrist.

“Sorry,” you sputter, your embarrassment reaching its crest. It was rude to stare. You should have caught yourself.

But the brunette brushes it off with a nonchalant huff.

“Oh, that? Looks familiar?” Clemensia bends to whisper in your ear, “Little gift from your mother.” Your blood turns to ice. She flashes her pearly smile, tossing her glossy black strands over her shoulder. “It’s alright though. Most of them have faded.” She unleashes a wry laugh. “It was much worse before…during the Games.”

You open your mouth, your brain scrambling for something to say…Anything. Mother hurt Clemensia, to prove a point probably, knowing her. You should say something, offer comfort, an apology perhaps. But your mind turns up blank. You shift awkwardly in your seat.

The panicked flurry of your thoughts is halted when Clemensia abruptly seizes your hands, squeezing them between hers.

She beams at you.

“You know what? I get the feeling that you and I are gonna be great friends.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

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blushweddinggowns · 5 months

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“So let me get this straight. You met a hot guy, conned him into a date with you, lied about who you were to get into his pants and still failed. Then kept going, bought a new phone and rented a fake apartment, fell in love him, continued this elaborate ruse for four months, and now you want me to figure out a way for you to get out of it?”

“...yes?”

“Oh my fucking god,” Chrissy nearly screeched into his ear, “That is what you have been doing? Have you lost your damn mind?!”

“Obviously, yes!” Eddie yelled right back, feeling fraught as hell. He was pacing back and forth, a cigarette in hand as he spoke, “I never planned on ending up here!”

“Really? Because this whole shit show seemed to need a lot of planning. Is this really what happens when I leave you unsupervised? I am never letting you out of the house again.”

Eddie was well aware he deserved the ribbing. He deserved much worse, but that didn’t change the fact that he was desperate, “Chris, I’m serious. I need help.”

“Eddie, I love you but come on. You need a plane ticket and an apology muffin basket and to move on. This guy doesn’t even know you.”

“It’s not like that,” Eddie said as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “It’s-okay. I’m still me with him. It’s like…I’m acting like who I would have been if I was never famous. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

“Have you tried delusional? Also, can I get a picture of this guy? How hot can one dude be to drive you-”

“I’m serious,” Eddie interupted, irritation coloring his voice, “I told him everything. The shit about my parents, Wayne, the drugs, you, everything.”

“You realize that everything would include your real name right? And again, a picture for the love of god would really help put this in perspective-”

“You know what I mean,” Eddie sighed. She still wasn’t getting it, “I’m in love with him. Like Chris, he was made for me. And if I had just stuck to tattooing instead of doing the music shit then I’m pretty sure he’d think the same of me.”

He could hear a small intake of breath on her end, her voice coming out a bit more concerned than before, “Eds, are you serious?”

“Dead. I… I think he’s the one,” No, that was another lie. Eddie took a deep breathe before admitting the truth, “He is the one. And… I don’t want to lose him. I can’t lose him.”

“Honey, it’s an infatuation. A really, really strong one, but still-”

“Chrissy. Listen to me. I want to marry him. Do you understand me now?”

If that didn’t get through to her nothing else would. Because Chrissy Cunningham had spent hours upon hours of listening to Eddie complain about the institution of marriage since fucking highschool. How it was all a farce, just some bullshit people pulled for tax reasons and patriarchal idealism. And now here he was, fucking day dreaming about the perfect happily ever after with the love of his life.

“Oh Jesus,” Chrissy groaned, the sineritcy Eddie was looking for finally creeping into her voice, “Sweetie, I’m so sorry… but I think you might have fucked yourself too big on this one.”

“Isn’t there something I can do?” Eddie pleaded into the phone, like Chrissy actually had all the power in the world to fix this, “What if I just lead a double life? Couldn’t that work?”

He had seen a movie about that once or twice. It was a thing. Or if it wasn’t then he could make it one.

But Chrissy didn’t seem too convinced, “Eddie, honey, you’re describing the plot of Hannah Montana like it can actually be a solution. Do you realize how insane that is? Do you not get how far you’ve fallen?”

from the next chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #alternate universe #famous eddie munson #damn your love damn your lies

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bbytamaki · 1 year

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more random obey me headcanons >:)

content: sfw headcanons, scars mentioned (from piercings), belphie has depression, all family love <3, not proofread >:((

note: i haven’t done any dateable hcs yet :(( might do some soon

— lucifer can’t stand bananas. it’s just a thing. even the smell will have him pressing his handkerchief over his mouth like a sick victorian man. does satan use this to his advantage? possibly.

— has very feminine hands. he covers them with gloves so he doesn’t have to hear asmo’s jealous whining. if anyone brings it up he’s not above strangling them with his dainty, girlish fingers.

— flexible. like shockingly. it doesn’t really come to light that often but every once in a while lucifer follows single mom yoga videos on the weekends.

— mammon has the prettiest facial features ever. like his eyes and lips look so good in candid photos. his magazine covers are the bane of asmo’s existence.

— bird tendencies. like i mean squawking and jumping like 3 feet in the air when startled. in his demon form he’s just a big parrot. he does the head tilt thing when he’s confused.

— if anyone stands in front of him for longer than a minute he’s picking lint out of their hair and fixing their clothes. his brothers have gotten more than used to his “preening” and either avoid standing around him for too long or just take it. lucifer does this too and sometimes they’ll just stand and fix each other’s clothes for like 5 minutes straight while everyone else is like “???”

— levi is tall. very tall. he’s just so scrawny and lanky and his posture is awful so you wouldn’t even notice until he actually straightens up to his full height. this rarely ever happens unless he’s in his demon form. when it does he is scary.

— cosplays online. his cosplay friends are some of his favorite people. he already sews his own costumes (as we’ve seen), and he’s really good at makeup. one of his future plans is to meet up in the human world to go to a con with his friends.

— screams like a little girl. one time mammon accidentally walked into the bathroom when levi was showering and he shrieked. lucifer ran to see what the commotion was because “how did a human child find their way into the devildom??” levi has never felt more embarrassed.

— satan watches trashy reality tv in his private time. bad girls club, keeping up with the kardashians, you name it.

— can sing the whole periodic table song by tom lehrer forward and backward. i think satan is actual really good at science and it would be his best and favorite subject.

— he just likes animals in general. he has a thing for bunnies after visiting a human world petting zoo.

— asmo has an abnormally long tongue, like surpassing attractive and approaching freakish. he usually keeps it in his mouth but once every so often decides to creep solomon out just for fun.

— has soooo many stripper friends. if you’re wondering how his hair and makeup stay in place the whole day, he learned from the best.

— he definitely designed an entire line of lingerie but only made one of each design. they’re ultra rare collectibles in the devildom and worth more than you could imagine.

— beel can french braid and make friendship bracelets like he’s going to a girl scout camp. nobody can tell me he didn’t hand make the necklaces he wears.

— speaking of martha stewart beel, he can crochet and makes blankets and cute plushies for belphie all the time.

— luke is actually his little brother and no one can convince him otherwise lol they go back and forth over nothing all the time and stop talking to each other until one of them says “what do you want for dinner”

— belphie is the king of doing his own piercings at home because why pay $50 for something he already knows how to do? he ends up taking some of them out before they heal because he gets tired of them and ends up with a bunch of scars on his face and body.

— you and beel are his dream journal. he texts the attic club gc after every nap to tell you guys what his latest dream was about. (you’re the two people that show up in his dreams the most.)

— goes absolutely dormant during depressive episodes. the complete opposite of his twin brother (beel has to keep busy at all times to stay distracted). asmo carries him to his private bathroom and lets belphie pick his favorite soaps and lotions (he likes the ones that smell like sandalwood, they remind him of taking naps in his brothers’ rooms).

#obey me #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

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messyhairedhazeleyeddude · 4 months

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┊┊ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. Aϝϝliƈƚiσɳ ┊┊ཻུ۪۪

彡 A Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Cursed!Male!Reader | SMUT 彡

＊ Contents ; Obsession, stalking, masturbation, masochism, kind of non-con sleep blowjob, rough sex, murder, handjobs, and worshipping.

＊ Dynamic ; Soft Yandere/Admirer to Lover

＊ Sexual Dynamic ; Sub!Gojo Satoru | Dom!Male!Reader

＊ P.O.V ; Third

＊ Age Range ; 18+ (This is younger Gojo by the way.)

＊ Music suggestion ;

┌──────── • ✧ • ────────┐

Satoru was a man of many. Intelligent, charming, unserious, and funny; he had no problem with meeting people outside and inside of school. Rather, he had quite a bit of friends, set up the day he was born with everything he needed for a social life. Handsome, strong, and labeled better than everyone else. That was him. And he knew this very well.

It was no secret that he took advantage of it. In his spare time, Gojo was known for hooking up with various women and men like it was some sort of fun game where he needed to collect as many bodies as he could. Just to be on top of the ‘Who’s most fuckable pyramid?’. It was his thing. He was number one. He needed to have everything. Just, because, he was Gojo Satoru.

Many spread the word on how he was in those behind-the-scenes exchanges, his fucking skills not short from all his other accomplishments, perfection at its finest. And one thing that was the most mentioned about the sorceror was how no one… NO ONE… could get him to fall for them. No matter how many times they gave him gifts, no matter how much they followed him, he never looked their way once after they got alone for a simple bang.

Instead, they’d be the ones to fall head over heels and never got over the rejection. That was his specialty. The reason why he gained a fan base. And he was flattered by it. Amused even. But, it never convinced him to get with any single one of them. That would never happen in a million years.

After many shunned attempts from his classmates, old friends, and one night stands to get with him on a relationship level, they assumed that Satoru was full-on Aromantic. That the man loved himself too much to get something like a crush. Or he was in a completely different world than them because of his power.

Those weren’t the real reasons as to why Gojo wasn’t interested in them, however. He just didn’t feel drawn to that vulnerability. How they were so easy to figure out with a simple look from him. Knowing everything like this was the biggest challenge for him. He was stuck, endlessly bored because all of his options were predictable, and not one of them entertaining enough. No threat. That’s how it was.

Until sophomore year of the Jujutsu college was when he came across someone out of the ordinary in the school hallway. He happened to be a new student, transferring from a completely different part of the world, and the amount of cursed energy leaking from his aura made the sorcerer stop in his tracks.

When the man turned to look down directly into Satoru’s eyes as he walked past him, it sent shockwaves through his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. For the first time in his life, he found somebody that he was unable to read.

At first, he was in denial about it. He couldn’t understand why one person would be different from the rest when it came to his perception. So, to figure it out, he began to follow the guy around.

Don’t ask why he didn’t approach him first, he didn’t know why, but he couldn’t. His heart would beat irregularly and he’d start to sweat, his entire chest and face heating up if they locked eyes at all. Maybe it was because his [E/C] orbs were intimidating or because he was extremely fucking good-looking. Maybe both. All he knew was that he never experienced it before and that was terrifying.

He started with small stares from afar, prop up near the places he would spot him and watch what he would do for several minutes. Waiting until he left to walk right behind him and see where else he would go.

So far, he was about as normal as anyone else in routine. He’d walk to his classes, do his work, and focus hard on his studies throughout lunch. Burying his nose in books upon books that the white-haired man would never pick up. Yet, what he found intriguing was his lack of interest in others.

The man didn’t socialize, ever. He would get up from his seats and tables whenever somebody would sit next to him. If they tried to talk to him, they were ignored like they were a wall. He’d ignore them, throw their notes to him in the trash, and any project he was assigned to was made for him to be alone. It was almost near impossible to grab a name. Thankfully, the system needed it to enroll and that was easy to get to.

Now, he knew that it was wrong of him to invade his personal space and illegal. But, Gojo had a severe problem with boundaries and it didn’t help that he could get away with it by teleporting. Also, he just didn’t care. A little curiosity never hurt him.

Eventually, he got to rummaging through the school records in the late hours of night, finding a file containing a name he didn’t recognize, ‘[L/N] [F/N]’. Pulling it out of its box, he opened it to check the picture and came face-to-face with a question mark box in place of it. His eyebrows furrowed and he scanned through the rest of what was listed about him.

The description of his features and classes were all there, things that he already knew, the basic stuff. But, this confirmed that [F/N] was his name and that’s all that mattered. Satoru was about to close the document and put it back before he glanced down at a small paragraph that read:

‘[L/N] is reserved to be under tight supervision and security conditions. He shall never be allowed to leave the city or Jujutsu without permission. If it falters, we will initiate our final plan.’

He narrowed his glowing blue eyes at the ominous writing, thumbing over the edges of the page while he thought to himself quietly, ‘I wonder… Is he as good as me?’ That idea crossed his mind and didn’t leave him alone. ‘Someone stronger than me… Is that possible?’ His fingers folded the paper back to where it belonged while trying to ignore himself, tucking it safely, and closing the drawer to make it look like nothing was tampered with. Then he turned around to get to heading out, not seeing the large figure looming in the shadows behind him.

It was by the time Gojo hopped out of the window he used to break into the room, that he realized [F/N] was plaguing every corner of his brain. He couldn’t stop thinking about him. Like his face was burned into his memory.

His gloomy, [E/C] eyes that bore a hole through him whenever he caught his attention. That sharp nose that gave him an edge, scrunched up at anyone that passed by. Plump, pouty lips that would frown as soon as he was being bothered. God, and that soft red tone resting in the middle of them, it made him think of the worst perverted things he could possibly come up with.

Satoru was tripping over his feet trying to get back to his dorm room, using the roofs of buildings, and traveling at a rate he could when dealing with a boner this bad.

Finally, right as he stumbled into his place, he began unbuckling his belt and sliding it off to throw it loosely onto the floor somewhere. He got most of his clothes off of him and left his boxers to be the last thing pulled off, his dick springing free and brushing over his lower stomach before he wrapped his slender hand around the base.

He played with his tip for a minute, beads of pre-cum sliding down and coating his fingers. Letting him cover his shaft the more he pumped. It was throbbing, blushing pink like cotton candy, and glistened in the moonlight of his room. And oddly enough, all of this was being done to a fantasy of sucking [F/N] off.

Gojo had never touched himself to someone individually before. Especially to someone he hadn’t hooked up with. And not in a way where they were on top or it wasn’t solely based on sex.

This was new to him and he was losing himself to it, badly. His hips thrusted upwards into his hand, the other one reaching up to his mouth so he could suck on his fingers and coat them with spit. Finishing getting them wet, he positioned two of them against his hole and slowly forced it inside.

He closed his eyes and imagined it was [F/N]’s, groaning at the abnormal feeling of being finger-fucked but enjoying it more than anything else. It barely took a couple of times of ramming them in before his cum began to spurt out in huge amounts. Decorating both his stomach and his hand in a stringy design.

After that night, Satoru came to a conclusion on how he felt about the [H/C]-haired man. This proved to be very, very frustrating.

The urge to see [F/N] was constant. It got so bad that he was leaving zero to little time for his friends, spending most of it on lingering near his newfound crush and drooling over any tiny thing he would do. And this went on for weeks.

Until one day, his obsession hit an all-time high. He was following him into the locker rooms like usual, having memorized this to be his routine whenever he was going to get ready for training. Although, to his disappointment, the guy would use his shirt and towel to cover himself when he changed. So he never even got a single peek.

But, today seemed to be different because [F/N] didn’t head toward his locker. He went in the direction of the showers, carrying a couple of items with him that looked like clothes and necessities. Excitement and nervousness rushed through Satoru. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he was going to get to see the man in all of his glory.

To keep himself from being detected, he was suspended in the air near the ceiling in a sitting position, patiently watching him arrange the shampoo and conditioner bottles before gripping the hem of his black fitted shirt.

[F/N] stripped it off of him, going at a slow pace that was teasing the hell out of him. Gojo was on the edge of his seat as he took in every bit, biting his bottom lip when he got to his pants and slipped them off of his slim waist. His build was impressive and so was his stature, enough to make Satoru draw blood from how hard he was digging his teeth in.

It wasn’t surprising that the white-haired man went straight to unbuttoning his pants and pulling his hard-on into view. Watching how he washed his body and cleaned his hair, struggling to hold in his moans while getting off to the sight. He barely got past five minutes before he was cumming mid-air, the droplets landing in the corner and making a bit of noise, causing Gojo to abruptly rush out of there as soon as he saw him turning his head.

His back was pressed against the wall on the other side of the showers, his chest moving up and down, the butterflies in his stomach swarming. He reached down to tuck his dick back in and zip it up, glancing at his hands that were dirtied with his jizz. Satoru sighed, in disbelief at his own actions before he went for the nearby sinks to wash them off.

Just as he did that, the shower was turned off and out stepped [F/N] a minute later. He passed by him while he was drying his hands off, causing Gojo to tense. His beating heart hadn’t even calmed from what happened not too long ago, he couldn’t handle this. So, he spun around and bolted for the door faster than the two of them could speak.

A small smirk quirked up the side of the [H/C]-haired man’s mouth, his gaze drifting toward the disappearing back of him, smug with a glint in his eyes.

Eventually, days had passed and Satoru was still in the same routine with chasing around his crush everywhere. Except it spread to him casually visiting his place in the middle of night to spend the rest of it either watching him sleep or pleasing himself outside of his window.

There would be times where he would break in and take his things to use like boxers and lotion. But, he tried to make it unnoticeable. He cared about stealth. That was until one of those nights, [F/N] decided to wear nothing but underwear.

Gojo’s blue eyes were glued on his figure, feeling like it was his lucky day to get to see something as rare as this. He was used to him wearing tank tops and basketball shorts, a small peep of his waistband was the most action he’d get if the man happened to move. Getting too excited, he was already sliding his sweatpants to his knees, shoving a hand in to get to jerking off for the millionth time. He couldn’t get tired of it when it came to him.

But before Satoru started, he realized that the window had been cracked open slightly. It was left open. Open…

He stopped what he was doing to push the rest of it upward, climbing inside of the tidy room and shutting it right after. The warmth and the quiet atmosphere invited him in, making him almost feel at home. That wasn’t wrong considering he was found in this place daily, scouring and finding out any thing that he had in this room. Which wasn’t much. Only thing that he was interested in was the locked box under his bed. Though, he couldn’t bust it no matter how hard he tried.

Looking down at the peaceful, sleeping [F/N] made his mind wander to a darker side of lust, his orbs brightening like diamonds as he let his sweats drop to the floor along with his boxers. He stepped out of them and lifted himself using his ‘Infinity’, hovering over him and getting the real picture of their size difference.

Gojo steadied his breathing as best as he could while flicking his eyes over his boxers, peeling them off bit by bit. He had to be extremely slow, careful than ever. Because if he woke up, who knows what would happen to him? And that risky feeling was more than enough fuel for the sex-crazed man.

Once [F/N]’s dick was exposed, Satoru had expected to see it flaccid, but it was already halfway hard. ‘Hm? Is he having a wet dream?’ He came to that conclusion. His excitement worsening because of the assumption and ended in him jumping the gun. He lowered down to where his tip was, giving a small kitten lick and watching his expression to see what would happen.

He knew it was a terrible idea to do what he was planning on. But, he didn’t want to stop what he was doing either. Actually, the fantasy of him finding out was really hot to him. What would he do? Would he get upset? Degrade him a bit? He was sure he could get off to that too.

[F/N] furrowed his brows a little and a noise similar to a grunt came from him, letting Gojo have the clear to go further. He placed his entire tongue on it, swirling around the head of his dick at a medium pace, and tasting his salty pre-cum with a satisfied look on his face. God, how long had he wanted to do this? He couldn’t keep track. It wasn’t that long of a wait but to him, it was like he served decades in prison, being teased with the keys in the cell next to him.

More grunts slipped past [F/N]’s pretty lips, falling onto his ears, and encouraging him to take more into his mouth. He hollowed out his cheeks while bobbing his head up and down to give the finishing touch, pulling out his phone at some point to snap a thirty second video of what he was doing for safekeeping. Every sound of his was making his own cock leak with arousal, dripping onto his bed, and reminding him that he needed attention too.

He dropped the device to move his hand back down, stroking his shaft and playing with the slit on his tip, muffling his moans on [F/N] and getting dirtier with the blowjob. His spit was running down the sides of him, messy and spreading around his mouth. The bobbing turned into a circle motion and he progressively got faster and faster. Feeling his dick twitching once he deepthroated.

The [H/C]-haired man’s legs lifted slightly, bending his knees while he thrusted upward. His eyebrows completely knitted together and his noises only sounding more intense. He was nearing his end, Satoru could tell. And it was then that he popped his mouth off, gasping for air, making his other hand wrap around to jack him off at a speed so quick that there was no time lost.

He stuck out his tongue and pressed it right against the landing zone, an odd euphoric look to his eyes as he soaked in the moment like it was his biggest achievement yet. That was until he saw those [E/C] ones piercing right back at him, the color of them being replaced with a… glowing, dark purple? What?

In an instant, Gojo’s hair was swept through and grabbed into a fistful, lifted off of him and thrown into the wall next to them with a force strong enough to cause him to go through it. His eyes went wide, staring directly at the frightened face of one of his classmates who was awoken by the loud impact and flying drywall. Barely a second into the exchange of words through looks with the girl, he was yanked back into the room, and the men rolled together onto the ground.

[F/N]’s palm slapped across his mouth, digging his thumb and all of his fingers into both of Satoru’s cheeks; turning him around to face towards his chest so he could pin him down better. His other hand was locked tightly in a grip around his wrists, both of his knees underneath his legs, his usual cold stare replaced by rage. And what he was hoping earlier felt heard all of a sudden.

There, he got to meet his crush for the first time and have that closeness he’d been hoping to get. Or just a simple word back. Something. He craved for his attention so bad that he could threaten him and it’d still satisfy his desire.

Gojo’s surprise slowly shifted into a wide smile, his eyes having a crazier spark to them while he giggled, figuring out what [F/N] had done. It was a trap.

The sound of a concerned voice interrupted before he could speak, “Gojo-kun? Are you okay?” Satoru mentally sighed, his expression dropping to half-lidded annoyed glare. He heard a brief slip of a laugh from [F/N] and raised his brows in shock, thinking he was amused by his face until he felt something pushing against his lower body, entering right inside of his hole.

No, he wasn’t laughing at that. He was laughing because he was enjoying the fact he was going to be exposed. Satoru should’ve been turned off by that, but rather he was loving it himself. He didn’t know why. This was so unlike the upcoming head of the Gojo clan. Although, he lost it already once [F/N] buried most of his thick length inside of him. His soul looked like it was being possessed, a purple glazing over his blue eyes.

Thankfully, he was stretched out by his fingers previously because the width of his cock was big enough to still make it feel uncomfortable. His thrusts rough as soon as he got most of it in. He didn’t think it would hurt this much, feel this amazing too. The combining sensations fucking with his brain and making him melt into the powerful man’s hold.

[F/N] was inside of his head. Literally. He could hear him whispering things in there through his technique, “You’re mine, Six Eyes. All of that cursed energy… It’s mine now.” Mind manipulation. That was his technique. He figured it out.

No wonder he couldn’t understand what it was at first. It was one of the main attributes of the special grade cursed object, ‘[M/N]’s Needles’. That means that the small marks on his forehead weren’t birthmarks, it was needles, deep into his own skull.

A smirk grew on the side of [F/N]’s mouth when he saw the ‘Aha!’ look across Gojo’s face, an extremely low, nerve-wracking voice coming out of him as he leaned right next to the white-haired male’s ear to remind him, “You’re not winning anything. I think I’d like to take your offer up on making you my new fuck toy.”

Then the aggressive fucking from before turned into straight abuse on him, Satoru’s expression twinging through a mixture of exasperation and pure bliss. Locking eyes with the same girl he’d been stressing about when his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. She choked up and took a step back, watching her peer get destroyed. But not for much longer because she mysteriously got warped into space, disappearing from the room without any explanation.

Gojo peeked back at [F/N], psychotically smirking and letting out a string of loud, slutty moans and groans. Not holding back because he knew that nobody could stop them. Especially with such a strong curse at his side. Despite his knowledge on what he was doing to him, he also made sure he could take control of the situation too. And what that means is he formed a pact.

The young sorcerer leaned forward, summoning most of his strength to give him a kiss, struggling to keep his eyes open anyway. [F/N] didn’t kiss back, knowing what he was up to the second he heard the thought from Satoru. But, he kept insisting, pushing his lips harder and harder against his.

There was several attempts at rejecting him, but it didn’t matter. Even as [F/N] gripped his ass harshly with both hands, dug all of his nails in, and tore his bottom lip up more. He continued to plant the same kiss, going so far and desperate that he started making out with him. It didn’t matter if he responded to it because Satoru wasn’t just doing it out of tricking him into this pact. This was love. Twisted, fucked up, love.

[F/N] pulled away for the twelfth time, panting and surprised that he was holding on for this amount of time. By now, they’d be falling apart and passing out. And he had even switched it to his most effective position. Gojo’s back was pressed up on the wall, arched and his legs wrapped around his waist, struggling to hold on from him being quite tall. His hand was wrapped around his neck, squeezing hard to the point where he was coughing, making sure that he didn’t lift himself to kiss him anymore.

“Do you want to get yourself killed? Or do you want to cum and survive, asshole?” [F/N] spat, getting up to his face in a threatening manner. Satoru smiled back at him once again, managing to choke a sentence out, “I want both… please!” He was teasing him even in this situation. The grip on his soul never wavering yet he talked back. This pissed him the hell off.

Every ounce of his strength raged into Gojo immediately after that, the wall caving in on them, and the sheer volume of both of their techniques fighting one another in the midst of their exchange. His crystal blues spaced out and tilted up, staring off as he fell limp in [F/N]’s arms, his forehead pressing against his to give one last attempt.

The [E/C]-eyed man couldn’t resist the temptation. He didn’t know why. He didn’t think about it. He just did it. His lips smashed onto Satoru’s expecting him to be drained of anything that he could use against him. But, he was wrong. Dead wrong. If anything, the fate had been sealed right then and there from that action.

A knot was forming in [F/N]’s and his stomach as he panicked about the failure when feeling his power fade along with Gojo’s, the smile from before planting against his face right in the kiss they had. He tricked him into it. He fucking cheated.

So much anger was rammed into Satoru for the next few hours even after [F/N] and him finished at the same pace. His guts practically being filled with his seed over and over, then rapidly having it fucked in until it couldn’t escape. He paid him back for what he did. For ruining everything he had by tying a commitment to him he didn’t want. Although, for some reason, he couldn’t help but be impressed. Possibly looking forward to their time together.

|| Extra ||

Satoru weakly smiled at Geto and shook his head, answering his question on where he’s been the last couple of months with a soft sigh, “I’ve been getting around a lot. When you have this many fans, it’s hard to keep up.” The black-haired man looked at him, unamused; poking at his noodles. His baggy eyes seemed to be getting worse. Shoko chimed in a smart comment, “Is that why you’re getting hickeys now? You letting someone top you?”

Gojo froze and snapped his head at her, his serious face causing her to began laughing like crazy and exclaim out loud, “No way! So, it’s true! You are being bottom!” He raised his hands in the air at her and waved them around while denying it profusely, “You think someone can get one over me? Gojo! Satoru! Do you not know my name? What kind of crazy lady are you, huh?!”

They bickered back and forth until Geto split the two of them up and decided it was time for all of them to go their separate ways. He waved ‘Goodbye’ as he walked away, slipping his hands in both of his pockets before turning his head to look in an alleyway that he was barely about to pass. For a split second, he was sure he caught a glance of purple eyes peering back at him, but when he checked again; there was nothing.

He looked at the dark midsection of the buildings, waiting to see if something else would happen, and then walked on as soon as it appeared to be his mind playing tricks on him.

Little did he know, that later on in that same alleyway, after Shoko left Gojo alone. He was being fondled by the curse he now claims as his forever boyfriend and ‘fuck buddy’ who stood there, eavesdropping on him the entire day.

They switch roles in following each other. Happening to be [F/N]’s day. And they both couldn’t hold back the urge of wanting to fuck the shit out of the other all the time. Satoru never reluctant to letting the man have his way. And as he let the blue-eyed man finish from his hand, he dug his teeth into his shoulder blade, mentally shouting at him in his head, “Who’s on top again, pretty boy?! What did you say to them again?” His cum spurted everywhere onto the floor and his fingers, those eyes rolling back like usual while he muttered, “You, sir…. Only, you.”

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