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elllisaaa · 5 months

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no nut november - han jisung (5th to lose)

-> pairing : han x fem!reader

-> words count : 5k

-> genre : smut, ennemies-to-lovers

-> warnings : switch!han swearing, teasing, dirty talk, praising, protected sex, oral (f. and m. receiving), face sitting, deep throathing, masturbation (m. and f.), use of 'good girl' and 'baby boy', marking, hair pulling, begging, a little bit of angst because han and y/n are dumb + the way i'm depicting jisung does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november

“- Are you serious !?”

Your smirk widened as you heard his annoyed voice ringing in the room. He must have found out that you finished Felix’s cookie. But Felix was your best friend, you didn’t like Han and you were hungry. Logical conclusion : you ate them regardless. The door of your room swung open as Jisung bursted into it, visibly furious. You turned around in your chair, your eyes falling in his angry ones immediately.

“- Serious about what ?

- Please ! I know you’re dumb but not that much.”

And your smile told it all : you knew very well what he was talking about, but pretending you didn’t and irritating him even more was always entertaining.

“- Oh ! The cookies, is that it ?

- Yes, that’s it !

- Well, how could’ve I known that you wanted one ?

- You could’ve been nice, for once in your life ?

- Towards you ? Never !

- I hate you.”

Jisung didn’t give you the time to answer but you didn’t mind, you just watched him storming out of your room, bragging about how much of a bitch you were.

“- I hate you too, don’t worry !”

You heard a door slamming somewhere in the apartment, and you laughed quietly at the noise, happy to have angered him to the point he left once again. It was either him or you who ran away from your arguments, but it was always about silly things like these cookies. You preferred to avoid serious subjects. It was safer, because you knew yourself, and you thus knew you were capable of saying the wrong thing very easily. The only thing you allowed yourself to do in his presence was fighting and teasing him, because you knew that he was attracted to you as much as you were to him.

In the first place, you weren’t seeing him as anything but a talented guy. You became trainees almost at the same time, and he was so much better than you at everything. He was good at dancing, singing, rapping, and composing music. Everything he did was immediately incredible, just because it was him. You weren’t bad, not at all, but having this as your goal to reach and surpass was overwhelming and putting pressure on you. On top of that, Jisung had a good personality. He was kind, funny and a good friend. He even tried to help you a few times, but all you had in mind was that he was your rival, your enemy. So, you pushed him away, not seeing the disappointment in his eyes everytime you did.

And little by little, your frustration of not being able to do at least as good as him started to become hate, until the point there was no going back, until the point the only thing holding you back from saying it all to him was your career. Jisung must have sensed your hostility, because he started to look at you from afar, he stopped trying to talk to you and you felt relieved somehow - you couldn’t have carried on with this behavior if he kept being so gentle with you.

The thing was that you couldn’t help being attracted to him, even after all your arguments, after all that jealousy. With time, it all faded to end up in a bittersweet habit that you didn’t want to break, afraid that it would shatter the only relationship that you had with him. You weren’t jealous anymore, but you didn’t know how to act around him, other than arguing for the most stupid things.

__________________________________________________________________________________

“- Felix !”

You jumped in your friend’s arms, happy to see him after this exhausting night. You liked to see other people, but award shows were always nerve wracking for you. Your favorite part of it was just starting : the after party. Felix guided you to a table where he poured you a drink that you definitely needed and deserved after all the hard work you put in to win this award. As you were talking with him, you let your eyes wander around the room until they landed on Jisung.

He must have felt your gaze on him because he turned to you, his eyes fixed on yours. Your smile widened when he looked down, checking out your outfit. When he glanced at you again, you felt like a fire had started to burn into your stomach. He always had that effect on you, raising up something you didn’t want to think about. What you wanted to think about right now was your plan.

Your plan was to make him surrender. Felix had told you about their stupid bet once, when he was a little drunk with you, and you decided to take advantage of it, you decided to make Han lose. If there was only one thing about him that you knew, it’s that he was as attracted to you as you were to him. You tried almost everything you could to bring him to the edge. But you didn’t get any reactions out of him, which was really starting to irritate you.

So, tonight was the night. If you got nothing from him this time too, you would give up. And maybe it would help you to move on from him, finally. Deep inside, you really hoped he would react, because you didn’t want to stop seeing him, teasing him, fighting with him. It was the good part of each one of your days, you didn’t want it to stop.

And you didn’t stop, spending the whole night touching him even when it wasn’t necessary, staying close to him even if you didn’t address a word to him, teasing him even if he seemed more and more tense as time passed by. But it wasn’t like you were exactly calm yourself, on the contrary. You drank, and drank, and drank to relax, until the point you were a bit tipsy. You were less anxious, but the control you had over your words worsened too quickly. You would have to stop with alcohol if you wanted to keep a little dignity.

And as you laughed one more time at one of Jeongin’s joke, you landed your hand on Jisung’s arm, feeling a shiver running on his bare skin. He got rid of his stage outfit, instead wearing black tight jeans and a white shirt tucked inside, making his waist look so slutty you practically drooled at the sight. Suddenly, your wrist was trapped inside the iron grip of his fingers, leaving you no other choice than to follow him when he excused himself, pulling you with him to the hallway, slamming the door shut behind the two of you.

“- What do you think you’re doing ?”

He was breathing heavily, as if he was holding back from saying or doing something - and you hoped it was from fucking you right there. You smiled innocently under his lustful gaze, trying not to seem too excited by the whole situation.

“- I didn’t do anything Jisung… What do you think I’m doing ?”

Han took a step towards you, checking you out without an ounce of shame. Why should he after all ? You did that too many times to count, couldn’t really hold it against him now.

“- I think you’re trying to make me lose. It’s all about that bet, isn’t it ? Wanted to see me fall apart since the first day.

- And ? Did it work ?”

You watched closely when he licked his lips, wondering what he could do to your body with that exact same tongue. He took another step towards you, and another, until his face was only inches away from yours.

“- You want to see how much ?

- Yes.”

Your voice came out shaky, but Jisung didn’t seem to mind since he took your face into his hands, lowering his lips to the point they were almost touching yours. He took a second or two, taking in your whole face as if he wanted to remember it forever. But quickly, everything that wasn’t his lips on yours left your mind : the moment he kissed you, the world got blurred.

Han’s hands found their way to your hips, gripping on them to keep you as close to him as possible. You ran your fingers through his hair, opening your mouth gladly when you felt his tongue licking your lips, moaning when he deepened the kisses. You felt your back hit the wall behind you, and Jisung’s body pressing into yours. You smiled lightly when his erection pressed up against your thigh. All you did was for that exact moment, for the moment he’ll finally give up.

Without a word, you pushed him away from you just enough for you to get on your knees, your hands searching for his belt immediately. But Jisung stopped you just as quickly, putting his hands on yours. Your eyes fell into his, absolutely loving what you saw. It was what you wanted all along, seeing how much he wanted you. He was out of breath, his cheeks were bright red, his hair were messy thanks to your hands and his gaze was shining with envy. He was just so hot, without even trying.

“- We shouldn’t do that…

- What ? You’re gonna tell me you don’t want me to suck your dick ?”

You distinctly saw him shallow, his eyes wandered all around the corridor before they came back to you.

“- I just don’t want you to be seen loving it so much.”

His fucking smirk was back, and you never thought you’ll like it this much one day. But you did. And as his hands left yours, you came back to your previous activity, unbuckling his belt and sliding his clothes just enough to free his cock. You stuck your tongue out, licking just his tip playfully, and then all along his dick.

“- Hurry up, we can’t get caught.”

You chuckled lightly ; of course he didn’t want to admit that he was just craving your touch. But he wasn’t totally wrong. You were in a hallway, and even if it was late and that the probability of someone walking on you was very low, maybe it could happen. And to be honest, you were excited by this idea, by someone seeing how desperate Jisung was for you, that he needed you to the point he couldn’t hold back until you were alone - ignoring the fact that you offered that.

Maybe he was desperate, but you were eager to please him too, to finally feel him and taste him. You took his cock in your mouth little by little, relaxing your throat with slow moves of your head. When your nose touched his pubis, you could tell Jisung was really lost in his pleasure. His eyes were closed, his head thrown back, and his mouth was hanging open, letting out whimpers and pleas.

“- I swear if you don’t start to move I’m going to lose my mind…”

Jisung could have easily taken your hair and made you move himself, but he was so putty in your hands his body wasn’t responding anymore. You grabbed his thighs for support - and not because you wanted to touch them, not at all - then, you finally started to bob your head. You heard Han whine loudly, biting his lower lip immediately to prevent any other sound to escape his mouth.

“- S-Shit ! You’re too good at that…”

Maybe you would have responded, if your mouth wasn’t full. One of his hand flew to your hair, gripping on them tightly when you hollowed your cheeks and twirled your tongue around his cock. He was hitting the back of your throat with each move you’d make, and you could sense that he was holding back from fucking your mouth, you could feel his dick twitching. But you didn’t want him to restrain himself. No. You wanted him to completely let go, completely give in to you. So you sucked him harder.

“- F-Fuck ! Don’t stop… Please.”

You let his cock fall out of your mouth, licking on it a few times before glancing back at him. He looked fucked out already, and you liked it too much for your own good.

“- No need to beg for it baby… Serve yourself.”

His dick was back in your mouth before he could say a single word, a moan escaping his lips instead. Jisung let out another obscenity before he started to thrust into your mouth slowly, not wanting to hurt you at first, but he quickly lost control at how tight your throat felt around him. Your eyes filled up with tears as he started fucking your mouth faster, roughly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when he was seemingly on the edge of his climax.

Han knew he had to stop. He should have stopped before cumming, he would’ve still participated in the bet. However, he couldn't. He couldn’t stop himself, he couldn’t stop you. He was dreaming about this for too long to stop now. All he wanted was to shoot his load down your throat and then bury his face in your pussy for hours.

“- Oh God ! I-I can’t… I- Fuck, baby !”

You felt his cock twitch in your mouth once again, and then his hot cum landed directly in your throat, leaving you no other choice but to swallow it, moaning too when you finally tasted him. Some of his seed spilled out of your mouth, dripping on your chin and then on the floor, but your mind was focused on how sweet Jisung’s voice was sounding, whimpering your name as you licked him clean. He seemed to definitely lose it when you gathered the cum resting on your chin on your thumb, sucking on it right after.

When you got back on your feets, your knees were aching, and your jaw too. But it was worth it, especially when you saw Han trying to recompose himself by arranging his hair, trying to look unbothered but you could see his hands shaking. Were you in a better state ? Not really since your panties were soaked in your arousal, sticking to your cunt. And you knew by the way he had gripped your hair that they were probably too messy to only look like you two had another argument.

“- Y/N ?”

You were about to head back inside after arranging your hairstyle a bit, trying to not let him see how shaken you were by what had just happened. You put on a mask of confidence before turning to look at him, finding Han buried in a state of nervousness you’ve never seen him into before. He had always been that cocky guy around you, full of himself as if he knew the effect he had on you, not that anxious boy scratching the back of his neck and barely looking at you.

“- What ?

- Do… Do you want to come with me to the hotel ? I didn’t even had the chance to show you how well I can use that tongue…”

If he had let you see a vulnerable side of him, it disappeared quickly, only to let you contemplate that smug smile of his. You sighed, holding back your own smile to spread across your face. Wasn’t that what you waited for ?

“- You’ll have to make it worth it baby.”

He tried no to show how much this nickname was affecting him, or how turned on your smirk was getting him already. You had certainly noticed at this point, but he had always been admirative of your ability to act like nothing happened even when you should have been crying. Like this time when you performed for your monthly evaluations with a broken ankle, smiling at the jury as if you weren’t dying on the inside. Or like right now, as you were jocking around with Felix and San, as if he wasn’t fucking your throat minutes ago. Jisung would never say it out loud, but he had dreamt about this since the first time his eyes crossed yours in the rehearsal room, years ago.

______________

You stumbled across his room, not even remembering how you made it to the door, the only thing crossing your mind being his hands trying to unzip your dress, and yours unbuckling his belt for the second time tonight. You pushed on his shoulders, forcing him to sit on the edge of the bed and getting rid of your dress yourself under his hungry gaze. Jisung’s eyes were wide open, watching closely as the piece of clothing fell to the floor, pooling at your feets.

He tried to say something, but his throat was dry, and he could only look as you straddled him. His body seemed to understand what was happening only when you leaned in to kiss him again, your tongue entering his mouth easily. His hands wandered on your skin, moaning when he felt your warmth under his touch and your fingers running through his hair.

“- You’re so gorgeous… I need more baby, please…”

You took a handful of his hair and pulled his head back, earning some incoherent whines from him.

“- You need what ? You need to be more specific, baby boy.”

It only made him moan some more as you started grinding against his bulge. The fact that he was still fully dressed while you were only wearing your underwear turned him on. You should’ve been the one feeling small and vulnerable, but here you were, teasing him, having control, and Han loved it.

“- I need you to touch me… Please, please…”

Your smile softened when you heard him beg. It was what you had always dreamt of - of having Han Jisung on his knees for you.

“- But didn’t you promise to show me how well you could use your tongue ?

- Yes ! Yes, I’ll eat you out, I just want to be good for you…”

There was something so wrong about seeing this proper and talented guy so desperate for you, and only you. But it was also so exciting, you didn’t think about it twice before throwing away your panties and pushing him to lay down on the mattress. And when Jisung saw you crawling until you straddled his face this time, he felt like his heart would come out of his chest from how fast it was beating.

“- You’ll better not make me regret coming here baby.”

Maybe he would have responded, if his mouth wasn’t full of your pussy. You lowered yourself on his tongue, moaning when he started to lick your clit. You kept yourself up on your knees, not wanting to suffocate him, but his hands gripped your thighs, pushing you entirely on his face, not giving a fuck about if he could still breath or not. He just wanted to dive in your cunt forever, to taste you for hours, to stay between your thighs for as long as you’ll allow him to.

“- That’s it Hannie, feels so good…”

You grabbed his hair again, pressing his face harder against your wetness, getting him to moan so loudly you thought he was coming. Jisung licked your slit, tasting your sweet juice again and again, knowing he’d never get tired of it. His tongue flicked against your bundle of nerves harshly, feeling your thighs tense under his fingers. Your moans were making him dizzy, and he was so hard he thought he could come undone just from your savor and your praises.

“- So great with that tongue, you didn’t lie… Now make me cum, I can’t wait to feel you in me…”

Han didn’t need you to tell him twice before he pushed his tongue past your walls, his nose rubbing against your clit. You threw your head back as waves of pleasure washed over you, grinding on his face shamelessly and crying out his name over and over, until it felt too much. Your legs were trembling as you slowly got off from him, allowing him to finally sit up.

He was as breathless as you, his lips and chin were covered in your arousal, his eyes were glistening, and you didn’t know if it was from tears or just excitement. You stared at each other for a few seconds, without saying a word, before his hoarse voice came out.

“- Let me fuck you… Please…”

You bit your lips, your eyes focusing solely on his lips for a moment, before you leaned in to kiss him again. This was enough of an answer for Jisung, and this time, everything coming near to demanding was only a memory as he grabbed your breast over your bra roughly. You moaned in the kiss, and he took advantage of it to rub his tongue against yours messily, saliva dripping down your chin.

He didn’t stop kissing you when he took off your underwear, nor when he pinned you against the bed, only letting your mouth go to get rid of his own clothes. He threw them away quickly, not caring where they landed as your hands ran his chest up and down, biting your bottom lip as he also got rid of his pants and underwear. You couldn’t lie to yourself when it came to him : he was looking like a greek god, naked under the moonlight.

“- Fuck me Jisung. I want you to ruin me.”

His eyes darkened, if that was even possible, but you didn’t get the chance to admire that as he dived in again to kiss you passionately, moaning in each other's mouth, teeth clashing and tongues dancing together. You felt his hands caressing your knee before spreading them open with a strength you didn’t think he’d have. Another whine escaped your lips at the images running in your mind from this newfound information.

“- Please, tell me you have a condom or I might go crazy.”

You smiled, and pushed him away just enough to grab your bag abandoned on the floor next to the bed, searching in a little side pocket to hand him a condom, trying not to get distracted by his hands grabbing your ass cheeks.

“- I’m surprised you don’t have one.

- Sorry, didn't expect a little brat to suck my dick tonight.”

You chuckled at his mumbled words, pulling on his hair to bring back his lips on yours. Jisung tried to focus on it all at once : getting the condom on, kissing you, and not fainting. He seemed all confident and composed, but his hands were shaking from anticipation and nervousness as they landed on your thighs again. He knew you were the type to get a new guy every week just for fun, you had so much more experience than him, what if he ended up embarrassing himself ?

“- If you don’t fuck me right now, I might go crazy.”

Your whiny voice - as much as you tried to sound composed - made him come back to reality. And the moment he pushed his cock past your folds, the moment he felt your wetness engulfing him, the moment he heard your desperate moans for more of his dick, his brain deactivated definitely. Han hissed when he finally filled you up fully, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck as he started moving, holding your legs up, allowing him to thrust deeper each time.

“- Fuck… You feel so good, so wet and tight just for me… It is just for me right ?”

He didn’t know where this possessiveness was coming from, nor did you, but judging by the way you clenched around him as he whispered the words against your sensitive skin, it wasn’t really bothering you. But you didn’t answer, focused on the way his cock was hitting all the right places already, making it hard for you to contain your noises. Until a hard thrust of his hips made you cry out his name.

“- F-Fuck Jisung ! Keep going…

- Answer baby, is this all for me ?”

Another thrust that made you see stars behind your closed eyes - a vain attempt to hold yourself back from moaning at each one of his moves. He kissed the skin of your neck slowly at first, quickly turning into sucking, biting and marking you. You had a stage tomorrow, and it was obvious that it would leave purple marks on your skin. But at this exact moment you couldn’t care less about it.

“- Yes, yes, just for you !”

Han groaned loudly before he stood up on his knee, wrapping your legs around his waist and his hands gripping on your body as he started to pound into you, making your back arch and your mouth hang open, an incoherent mix between pleas, his name and animalistic sounds coming out. Trying to keep some sanity, you grabbed the sheets beneath you, looking up at Jisung between your legs : sweats was glistening on his skin, moans falling from his lips with every little clench of your cunt around him

“- That’s my good girl… Shit ! Letting me use her sweet pussy like that, screaming only my name. Only mine.

- Yeah ! Y-Yes… Only yours Ji !”

Your grip on the sheets wasn’t enough. You needed more. You needed him.

“- More.”

It took no more than a word from you to get him. The weight of his body soon crushed you into the mattress, the skin-to-skin contact making you whimper. You immediately ran one of your hands through his hair, the other one resting on his back, needing to feel more of him. He came back to your neck, attacking the other side this time as the speed of his thrusts increased. Your nails dug into the skin of his back when he hit your g-spot again, making you clench so hard around him he thought you were cumming.

“- God, I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that princess…

- Don’t care, I want your cum all over me.”

A loud moan escaped his mouth before you felt him pull out of your dripping cunt, jerking himself off right away. The loss of his dick was soon replaced by two of your own fingers pushing into your pussy, circling your clit as you watched him fall apart in front of your eyes.

“- Oh fuck ! Shit, shit, shit… I-”

Another loud moan interrupted him as his hot cum landed on your stomach and breast, some even ending up on your chin. His blissed out face and little whines as he slowly stopped moving his hand just did it for you, cumming hard around your own fingers, missing the look of wonder Han threw at you when you came, rubbing your thighs gently to help you come back to reality.

You didn’t know how much time passed by like this, next thing you knew was that you were in Jisung’s arms, legs tangled, and your face buried in his chest. Your eyes opened with difficulty, blinded by the light of the bright sun coming from the window - you didn’t really care about closing the curtains last night. With almost as much struggle, you managed to get out of his embrace, heading to the bathroom with your clothes from yesterday that you picked up on the floor.

As soon as you saw your reflection in the mirror, you gasped. If last night, you enjoyed his mouth on your neck, you were regretting it now that you saw how many hickeys he left on your skin, and how dark they were. You couldn’t ask the stylist to give you something else since the outfits of your group had already been selected. You sighed while thinking about what you’ll need to do to convince the staff so they would cover this up with makeup.

“- Couldn’t keep his mouth shut, as always.

- I won’t apologize for this, everyone should know you’re mine”

You turned around quickly, finding Jisung landing against the door frame of the bathroom, his fucking smirk back on his lips as you tried to process what he had just said. Your heart fluttered, but you couldn’t do that. It was too complicated. So you just decided to brush it off, and focused on taking off your makeup that was smeared around your eyes instead - keeping your hands busy to keep your mind busy too.

“- Stop with that. I’m not yours.”

You saw his smile drop in the mirror, and it suddenly felt like a heavy burden was weighing on your shoulders, like it was getting harder to breathe.

“- I- Fuck… I can’t keep this up anymore Y/N.

- What are you talking about ?”

Maybe playing dumb would allow you to ditch this conversation. You were not ready. Not ready to admit what you were feeling, and not ready to accept that he was maybe feeling the same way.

“- I’m talking about us, about… About this whole fucked up relationship, because I know for a fact that you don’t hate me, and I can’t bring myself to hate you either. I’m tired of lying and always pretending that I don’t want to be near you when this is all I dream about. I don’t know what you want, but I’m pretty sure that I want you all for myself.”

From the way he was talking, from the anger and sadness that was pouring out of his words, you knew that it came from his heart, that he had been holding back for a long time. And maybe you did too. Because you slowly turned to look at him again, head down and playing with his fingers restlessly.

“- I… It’s way too complicated Jisung, and you know it.”

Suddenly, his eyes were fixed in yours again, and you were only inches away from each other’s body. It seemed as if his gaze was burning with fire, as if he was struggling to keep himself together.

“- I don’t give a fuck about that ! I don’t give a fuck about the stupid shit you find complicated ! Because you know that it is not impossible, you know it. I just want you. That’s as simple as that.”

You breathed heavily as he calmed down quickly, coming back to his previous state of anxiety. You didn’t dare to say a word, afraid to hurt him once again when all you really wanted was to hold him.

“- Please, just say something.”

You felt your eyes well up with tears as you hugged him tight, his arms immediately wrapping around you, as if it was where you should be. Your plan was not to get there, but now that his fingers were stroking your hair gently, and that his intoxicating scent was surrounding you, were you really regretting it ?

“- Maybe… Maybe I want you all for myself too, and… Maybe we can try.”

Both of you will need a long and serious talk, but Han’s smile as he buried his face in your hair and your heart fluttering when he did so was enough of an explanation for now. And as he took you back to the bed, caressing your skin tenderly, the bet was long forgotten.

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

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#skz x reader #skz x yn #stray kids fics #stray kids x reader #han smut #jisung smut #han jisung smut #han x reader #jisung x reader #skz smut #no nut november

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ellemj · 5 months

Text

Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 10 (FINAL PART)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

*Read parts 1-9 first for the full effect!*

Summary: Everything is out in the open between you and Bucky now, but there are two rules for your new secret relationship.

Warnings: unprotected sex, teasing, possessive!Bucky (hehehe), maybe fluff (?), profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.

Word Count: 2.2k

Author's Note: We've finally reached the end. I think I'll miss this version of Bucky and reader but I'm pretty excited about the work that I'm planning on putting out here next. Hopefully everyone's okay with the conclusion of this, I didn't want to have anyone riding off into the sunset or anything, but I also didn't want to have a horribly sad ending, so this felt right. You guys should totally let me know in the comments what kind of things you'd like to see from me soon! I don't know if I'll take specific requests anytime soon, but I'd love to at least find out what might get you all excited. Thanks for the umpteenth time to @littlemiss-yeehaw for being the best cheerleader and warnings-writer out there. She also draws some unbelievable shots of Bucky based on scenes in these fics.

In the shower, on the hotel bed, in the chair by the window, hell, even on the floor when the two of you rolled off of the bed in the heat of the moment. You’d successfully christened every surface of your hotel room before the clock ever struck midnight. You hadn’t meant to go at it like horny teenagers who found themselves home alone for the first time, but that’s what happened. It’s like you were both thinking about how this may not continue once you get back to the compound tomorrow morning, so you fit as much as you could all in one night.

Now, you’re laying side by side in bed. Your most recent tryst involved you on your hands and knees with Bucky doing all of the right things behind you, and it thoroughly winded you both. You listen as your collective breaths fill the air, the two of you each coming down from your post-orgasmic highs.

“Do you think Dr. Raynor will figure this out?” You ask softly, raising a hand and wiping a bit of sweat from your brow. Bucky laughs and turns his head to look at you. He still can’t get past how pretty you look after doing such dirty, animalistic things with him. Even without the super soldier serum decreasing his refractory period to mere minutes, he thinks he’d be recovered and ready for round five just from looking at you like this.

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”

“It’s on my mind, yeah.” You admit. You’re probably more worried about it than you should be, but deep down, Bucky’s worried too.

“So, how do you want to handle it?” Bucky asks, fully rolling onto his side to face you.

“Maybe we just wait and see what she has to say after observing tonight’s mission and then go from there. I don’t want to say anything first and give her anything to use against us.” He’s listening to your words, honestly, he is. He doesn’t think he could ever miss a word you say. But he can’t stop himself from reaching over and running his fingertips along your flushed cheek. You turn to look at him and he lets his fingers ghost over your lips and down the column of your throat until he reaches the notch between your collarbones. His eyes linger there for a moment. Something’s missing.

“You never gave me my dog tags back.” He whispers. You’re not wearing them, and neither is he. So, where are they?

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure when to give them back.”

“Bullshit, you wanted to keep them.” Bucky teases. You push his hand away from your neck at the accusation, but can’t stop the smile that’s creeping over your features. Fuck, he’s so into you. He closes the distance between the two of you and places his body carefully over yours under the covers, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Even just kissing you sets off fireworks inside of him.

“They’re sitting on my nightstand, back in the compound.” You tell him, hoping it doesn’t make you sound too obsessed. You had planned to give them back all week, but avoiding him made that a little difficult, so instead you left them sitting beside your bed. It was sort of comforting to see his name every night before you fell asleep, and every morning when you woke up.

“Keep them.” He insists, pressing another kiss to your soft, soft lips. You get lost in the moment, focusing on the feeling of his tongue working against yours, his scent enveloping you in the most consuming way, and his weight keeping you pinned to the mattress. You could stay like this forever.

This, of course, is when Bucky’s phone would ring. He groans in annoyance as he breaks the kiss and touches his forehead to yours, looking down into your eyes.

“Tell me not to answer it.” He pleads. You purse your lips, knowing it’s probably someone from the team calling with some kind of update or new order. Bucky groans again before rolling off of you and snatching his phone off of the bedside table. He answers it and puts it on speaker, confirming that it’s someone from the team.

“Hey, sorry to call so late. The threat has been neutralized so you guys can head back now and get some sleep, we’ll debrief in the morning.” Sam sounds tired but calm, so it must have been more of a nuisance situation than a major threat. Bucky closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose with his vibranium hand.

“Sounds good, we’ll be back soon.” He grumbles. You can tell he’s annoyed that you won’t be staying the night here. When he hangs up the call, he lets out a deep sigh before sitting up on the side of the bed, with the covers gathering around his waist. Without thinking, you crawl up behind him and wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him from behind. He stiffens as if he didn’t expect your touch, but that just makes you lean into him more, resting your chin on his shoulder. You feel him slowly relax and having that effect on him warms you to the center of your being

“We’re going to go home, get some rest, and debrief in the morning like this was any other mission.” You say, attempting to be reassuring.

“That’s what you want? To pretend like this was any other mission?” He questions, running his hands over where your arms are wrapped around his abs.

“I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant we don’t have to run in and tell everyone that something might be going on between us.”

“Might?” He chuckles. You feel his abs shake beneath your hands as the melodious sound leaves his lips. You never heard him laugh much before, and you didn’t expect to like it as much as you do.

“Hey, I told you that I fell for you, and you said fuck, I’m cumming. How am I supposed to know you feel the same way?” You tease, letting go of him and laying back on the bed, drawing the covers up over your naked body. He turns a bit to face you and starts pulling the covers away from you slowly.

“Y/n…” He says your name with so much genuine feeling that it sends tingles throughout your body. Has he always said your name like that and you just never noticed before? Yes. “I made you wear my dog tags while I fucked you.” What the hell does that have to do with what you just said? He can see the confusion on your face and it brings a smile to his. He slides back under the covers next to you and begins peppering kisses across your shoulder and collarbone.

“Bucky…” Fuck, if you start saying his name again there’s no way either of you will make it back to the compound tonight. He quickly makes his way up to your face, attaching his lips to yours for a moment and then tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away. It’s the nicest way anyone has ever shut you up.

“I wanted to be able to pretend like you were mine. I fell way before you did.” He whispers against your lips. Holy shit. He feels the same way. Bucky Barnes feels the same way about you as you feel about him.

You know that you have orders to head back to the compound, and neither of you are the type to disobey orders from above, but how are you supposed to pack up and head out after finding out that you have feelings for each other? You can’t stand the thought of traveling back to the compound tonight knowing that you’ll have to put on a show and pretend like nothing happened here. So, why not delay a bit and take what you want one more time?

That very rational thinking is what inspires you to slide your hand between the two of you and wrap your fist around Bucky’s already-hardening cock. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your small, soft hand wrapping tightly around him, and he wonders how he went so long without having you this way. You’ve been right across the hall from him all of this time. You’ve been going on missions with him for the last two months, giving each other shit nearly every waking moment, and completely missing what had been there the whole time. Love. He won’t say it out loud yet, he doesn’t want to scare you off, but that’s what it is. He’s sure of it. He loves you. He may not say it but he can damn well express it.

That’s how Bucky finds himself, for the fifth time tonight, guiding the tip of his cock inside of your perfect cunt. He’s done this enough times now that he knows as soon as he bottoms out inside of you, you’ll tense up and scrunch your eyes closed, trying your hardest to adjust to his size. He watches as you do just that, and then he feels your entire body relax beneath him and he knows you’re ready. He pulls one of your legs up and over his hip as he begins fucking you into the mattress. When your eyes flutter open to meet his, he has to go completely still inside you so he won’t cum right then and there. You laugh to yourself. You know what eye contact does to him and you love it.

“What’s the matter, James? Keep going.” You taunt, wiggling your hips and forcing his cock to slide into you another inch. He’s only halfway inside of you. He breathes out a slow, calming breath before leaning down and nuzzling his face into your neck, letting his cock sink into you slower than it ever has before.

“You like rushing me, don’t you?” He asks, giving your cunt gentle thrusts. A soft hum leaves your lips at the pleasure that’s beginning to build in your lower stomach. You’re so focused on the feeling that you don’t even acknowledge his question. “Don’t rush me tonight.” He buries himself to the hilt before stilling once more, drawing a whine from your lips. “We’re making love, not fucking, sweetheart.”

---

A few hours later that same morning, a very uneventful debrief took place in the conference room at the compound. You and Bucky turned in your mission reports, leaving out the details of what happened in the hotel room, and then you were dismissed to have a few hours of freedom before having to meet with Dr. Raynor.

Everyone probably assumed that the two of you went off to your respective rooms upstairs, but it took little convincing to get Bucky to sneak over into yours. When he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, the first thing he noticed was his dog tags, right where you said they were.

You kick your shoes off by the door and walk over to sit on one of the small gray chairs that you have off to the side of the room, feeling surprisingly nervous that Bucky Barnes is seeing your room for the first time. Nervous. After everything the two of you have done this week? You’re ridiculous. You watch him as he crosses the room and scoops the dog tags off of your nightstand. He stares at them in his palm for a moment, and for a second you worry that he might pocket them. However, when he turns to you with a soft smile and a mischievous glint in his eye, your fears are assuaged.

“Do you have any rules? For this thing that we’ve got going on?” Bucky asks, taking the free chair across from you and setting the dog tags flat on the coffee table that separates the two of you. You tilt your head to the side, studying him closely. You see what he’s doing. The first night, while under the influence of that chemical, you gave him one rule: no kissing. He returned with his own rule: wear his dog tags while he fucks you.

“I have one. We keep this a secret, just between us, for as long as we can.” You respond, letting your eyes trail over his physique. He’s sitting in your chair the same way he sat in the chair in the hotel room last night. The man knows how to demand attention without saying a damn word. You watch as his licks his bottom lip and then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together in front of him.

“Fine. It’s a secret.” He agrees, his gaze briefly lingering on your neck. “But I have one rule too.” He reaches out with his flesh hand and begins sliding the dog tags across the table toward you. “You’ll never take these off again.”

BONUS CHAPTER

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #mcu #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut

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hooniblr · 2 months

Text

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 (𝐘𝐄𝐓) 𝐈𝐈

PAIRING ▸ nishimura riki x female feader

WORD COUNT ▸ 4.8k

GENRE ▸ high school au, brother’s best friend au, fluff, angst

SYNOPSIS ▸ After spending the better part of your adolescent life crushing on your brother’s best friend, you finally decide to call it quits on your unrequited feelings when you come to the conclusion that’s all they will ever be—unrequited. The only problem is that getting rid of these feelings that have been lurking in your heart is much more difficult than you anticipated. Especially because the object of your affections keeps making it hard for you to move on.

Or the one where Riki resorts to blackmail.

WARNINGS ▸ reader as sunoo’s twin sister, riki as sunoo’s bestie, feat. some of the newjeans members, reader is an expert at hiding her feelings, misunderstandings, pining, slow burn, blackmail, broken promises, hurt feelings

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NOTE — thank you for all the love on part one! hope you guys like this part. mdni banner made by @/benkeibear

“You still haven’t told Sunoo about your new hobby?”

“No. I know he would just worry about me getting hurt.” You sighed. “So would my parents.”

Minji furrowed her eyebrows. “Don’t you think hiding it is doing too much? You’re not doing anything bad. It’s just jiujitsu.”

“You know how my mom gets. She wants me to do things ‘normal girls do’ like that’s going to make me act like her friends’ kids. Remember when she tried to make me join the choir?”

“Yeah.” Danielle grimaced. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you get so embarrassed.”

You and Minji shared her grimace. Your audition probably went down as the worst in the history of the entire school. “I’m actually kind of good at jiujitsu, and I like doing it. If I tell Sunoo about it he won’t let me go back to the dojo ever again.”

Minji sighed. She knew you were right. Having an overprotective family would be the death of you.

“Come on.” She said, hoping to distract you from your inner turmoil. “Let’s go eat in the courtyard.”

“You don’t want to go to the cafeteria?”

"Riki’s in there.” Danielle reminded you. “So is Heeseung.”

“True.” You pursed your lips. “I’ll meet you guys out there. I have to drop off Sunoo’s stuff first.”

The hallway was relatively empty when you wandered up the stairs. You were glad no one was around because it would make it easier to drop off your brother’s bag—which he had inconveniently forgotten in the morning, again. When you glanced inside his classroom, it was completely alone, much to your relief.

After dumping the bag on his desk, you made a run for it. Sure, you were probably being overly paranoid, but you couldn’t risk running into Riki. Especially not after last night.

“Kim Y/N.”

Hearing your full government name made you freeze just before you reached the stairs. Your heart and mind had memorized that smooth melody long ago. You slowly turned around, heart stuttering despite knowing what sight awaited you. Riki’s usually sweet gaze had been replaced with one that was full of disapproving anger and something else; something you couldn’t discern.

“Riki.” You said his name breathlessly.

Your wide-eyed gaze only confirmed his suspicions. Up until now, you never had a problem being around him, or even looking at him. Right now, Riki could see that you were itching to get away from him as if he was some sort of parasite. He knew your awkward behavior was nothing more than a byproduct of hanging around that bastard Lee Heeseung, and it only made his anger grow immutably.

“I saw you last night.” Riki’s tone was accusing, knowing he was approaching the situation in a completely immature way. “I know you haven’t been hanging out at the internet cafe. You go to that dojo with Lee Heeseung.”

Out of all the things you expected Riki to say, him bringing up your secret jiujitsu lessons wasn’t on the list. It was clear that he disapproved, but you weren’t sure why he seemed as upset as he did. Did he know Sunoo wouldn’t approve as well? They truly were best friends. You were glad to see that the loyalty wasn’t just a one-way street despite the fact that it was now backfiring on you.

And so, like a deer caught in headlights, you could only blink at him bovinely as he gave you a stare that demanded answers.

“Does Sunoo know what you’ve been doing instead of going home?”

Your eyes widened in realization. Riki was going to rat you out.

“Please don’t say anything.” You begged, clasping your fingers together to form the classic pleading gesture. “I know he wouldn’t approve, and if he tells our parents then I won’t be able to go anymore.”

Riki clenched his jaw. Was being able to see that idiot so important to you? Enough to risk getting in trouble with your parents? He wondered how you would feel about Heeseung if you knew the truth about him. You definitely wouldn’t feel the same way about him if you found out what kind of person he really was.

Even so, your shimmering eyes had him thinking twice about ruining what you had with Heeseung. He could see that you were clearly infatuated with that idiot to the point that you were willing to upset your entire family by seeing him. The fact that you were even willing to go to that stupid dojo with him was enough indication of how much you liked him. (As if you avoiding him wasn’t proof enough.)

“Well—”

“Y/N!”

Sunoo bounded over to you with his rowdy friends following close behind him. Your panic-filled eyes glanced from Riki to your brother. You tried to straighten out your dismayed expression with a tense smile.

“Twin!” You exclaimed a little too happily. “I left your bag on your desk.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot—”

“I’ll see you at home.” You rushed out, not giving either boys a chance to respond before you took off down the stairs.

Luckily for you, neither of them followed after you. As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you looked back just to make sure. At that moment, you bumped into someone and nearly fell back. Stumbling awkwardly, you started to apologize for not watching where you were going.

“It’s okay. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Seeing Sunghoon’s worried expression almost made you roll your eyes. Instead, you told him you were fine and kept walking because the last thing you needed was to deal with your ex. Unfortunately, you weren’t allowed a stealthy getaway.

“What’s going on between you and Lee Heeseung?”

You glanced over your shoulder, annoyed that Sunghoon was following you. It would’ve been easy to ignore him, but you knew he wasn’t going to leave you alone since he had asked you in that nosy tone of his. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw you two at Jake’s party.” Sunghoon sounded insecure or something close to it. “Do you like him or something?”

An incredulous scoff tumbled past your lips. “What do you care? Are you jealous?”

“Yes—extremely.” His pout was objectively cute, but you couldn’t see it as anything other than annoying. “Since when did you start hanging around Lee Heeseung?”

It was usually easy for you to hide your feelings, but now your indignation was the one taking control as you turned to face him. “Around the time you stopped.”

Sunghoon’s eyes widened. If Heeseung had mentioned their brief friendship to you, it’s because he had explicit trust in you. The theory that he concocted the other night couldn’t be too far off from the truth. It made him feel a terrible dread in his gut. Heeseung wasn’t the type to reveal any private information, which brought Sunghoon back to the conclusion that you weren’t just anyone his former friend.

“So, Heeseung likes you then.”

You don’t think you had ever heard anything more ridiculous. It was obvious that Sunghoon was still too self absorbed to see that Heeseung had been pining for Song Yura for the longest time. His unrequited feelings are the reason you two had gotten so close. Not that it was any of your ex’s business.

You scoffed quietly before an apathetic smile spread on your lips. “Think what you want.”

Sunghoon frowned. As he went to say something else, you went out the exit leading to the courtyard. He could only watch you walk away from him with a disheartened expression.

Thinking you had successfully gotten him to back off was your first mistake.

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“Which movie did you pick?” You wondered as you put the popcorn bag in the microwave.

“I didn’t pick one yet.” Sunoo said from the living room. “Riki’s coming over so I wanted to let him decide on the movie too.”

You nearly dropped the bowl you pulled out of the cabinet. Maybe you should’ve felt upset that Sunoo conveniently forgot to mention that his bestie was crashing your movie night, but you were too panicked to feel angry or anything related to that emotion. It didn’t even have to do with the fact that you were practically in love with Riki. Instead it was about the not-so-small tidbit that he knew your secret and was probably planning to tell your brother all about it.

“I thought you said it was just going to be us tonight.” You did your best to sound upset although you were sure your voice was shaking.

“Riki wanted to hang out. You know I can’t tell him no.” Sunoo pouted as you went to sit by him. “You’ve never had a problem with him coming over before.”

That was before you decided to get over him.

“The three of us haven’t hung out together in a while. It’ll be good for him to come over, anyway. He could use your advice.”

“My advice?” You mimicked curiously. “Advice for what?”

“He got a love letter from Song Yura today.” Sunoo said with a giddy laugh. “He didn’t let me see what it said, but I think she confessed to him.”

“Maybe it wasn’t a love letter.” You said pathetically, knowing it was your wishful thinking doing the talking.

“But she even has his helmet. Not his extra one, his favorite one. I’m sure it won’t be long before they’re a couple.”

It was hard not to feel like a deflated balloon with what Sunoo was saying. Not only because Song Yura was obviously someone very special to Riki (he didn’t let just anyone touch that helmet), but because you knew Heeseung was going to feel heartbroken once he heard the news.

You couldn’t be surprised that this happened. It wasn’t like this was the first time Riki had gotten a girlfriend. He’d had plenty between the time you’d met him and now.

So, why did this feel so much worse than all the other times?

The title of the movie the boys selected went over your head. Your inner turmoil had the knots in your stomach tightening with every passing second. You weren’t sure whether to focus on the fact that Riki might expose your secret or that one of the prettiest girls in school had confessed to him. The choice wasn’t left to you as your mind alternated from thinking about the two problems periodically.

Your eyes were focused on the TV screen, but you were too busy thinking to see any of what was actually happening. Honestly, it was a good thing that Riki could potentially get into a relationship. If he did, it would be the thing to help her move on once and for all. Although watching him end up with someone else wouldn’t be painless, it would for the best. At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself.

Also, should Riki start to date Yura, then maybe he would be too caught up in his relationship to bring up your secret. Or maybe that was more of your wishful thinking since Riki was much more bothered about your jiujitsu lessons than you expected. You still couldn’t figure out why. It couldn’t be just because of his friendship to your brother. No matter how many times you went over it in your head, you couldn’t figure out why he cared so much.

Somehow, the movie ended before you could focus on it. With Sunoo telling Riki to pick another movie because he needed to use the restroom, you mindlessly wandered into the kitchen under the pretense of making more popcorn for the second movie. In reality, you needed to put some distance between you and Riki. Being alone with him wouldn’t do your resilience any good, and it definitely wasn’t helping your nerves. Unfortunately for you, nothing ever went as planned.

“We didn’t finish our conversation.”

Your hands stilled. Calm down. Breathe. You pressed the start button on the microwave before turning around to face Riki.

His thick eyebrow was raised, and that domineering look from before made an appearance once again. “Are you really going to keep doing jiujitsu even though you know your family won’t approve?”

You almost told him that he also did plenty of things that his family didn’t approve of, but you knew it wasn’t smart to get snarky with the person who knew your secret. Telling him the real reason you were practicing jiujitsu was out of the question. So, left without any other choice, you decided to bring up your friend in the hopes that he would leave it alone.

“It’s something fun to do with Heeseung.”

Astoundingly enough, Riki’s stern gaze became even more lethal. “Can’t you do something else with that idiot?” His voice rose unintentionally. “How can you want to keep learning jiujitsu just because that’s what—?”

“Shh!” You hissed in a panic, practically pouncing on Riki as you placed your hands over his mouth. “Sunoo will hear you!”

As you looked towards the living room worriedly, Riki found himself frozen in shock. Your soft hands pressing against his lips had his heart pounding harshly against his chest. From this close, he could see every single one of your eyelashes and the deep color of your pretty eyes. He couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought, only focusing on the close proximity. You smell invaded his senses and disarmed him completely.

When you looked back at Riki, you noticed he was looking at you strangely. It was then that you realized how close you two were. Literally chest to chest. You jumped back, feeling a bit of heat spread on your face.

“Sorry.” You apologized. “Just please don’t say anything.”

You rushed back into the living room before Riki could say anything else. All you could focus on was your erratic heartbeat that wouldn’t slow down. How could he affect you so much without even doing anything? It wasn’t fair because you were sure your presence didn’t have the same affect on him. The heat on your face hadn’t gone down even when Riki came back with the popcorn. If he noticed how flustered you looked, he didn’t mention it.

“Y/N.” Sunoo said as he walked back into the living room. “What’s this? Is it yours?”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when you saw Sunoo holding up your gi. You nearly choked, not knowing what to say since you were practically caught red-handed. Since when did he go through the laundry?

“That’s Danielle’s.” Riki said suddenly. “She asked me to get it for her when I came over.”

Without any hesitation, Sunoo handed the garments to Riki. While you were grateful that he hadn’t outed your secret, the nerves of him possibly changing his mind had you fidgeting uncomfortably as the two boys picked another movie. All throughout the comedy, you kept stealing glances at Riki. He didn’t look at you once, and you mentally cursed him for being so good at hiding his emotions.

When it was time for Riki to leave, you offered to see him out. Instead of walking him to the door, you stepped out into the cold night with him. You stood in front of Riki, nervously playing with the hem of her hoodie.

“Thank you for not telling my brother.”

“I’ll keep your secret.” Riki promised. “But you have to do something for me.”

You should’ve been suspicious at the tone he’d gotten, but you were too caught up with his promise not to tell anyone about your jiujitsu lessons. “What’s that?”

“I won’t tell anyone about what you’ve been up to as long as you stop going to that dojo and stop seeing Lee Heeseung.”

You thought he was joking until you that saw his somber expression didn’t change. Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. She could understand the first part of his request, but what did you being friends with Heeseung have to do with anything?

“What? I can’t just—”

“Should I let your brother know what you’ve been doing, then?” Riki raised a challenging eyebrow at you.

Your shoulders sagged. “No.”

Riki held back a grin, but only just. “So, do we have a deal?”

“Yes.” You agreed reluctantly.

His signature smirk made an appearance. He lifted his hand and rested it on your head, softly ruffling the top of your hair. “Good. See you later.”

“Wait!” You called, pointing at the garments in his hand. “My gi!”

Riki glanced down at the clothing in his hands. Again, he looked up at her with that smirk of his. “This? I think I’ll hold onto it for the time being.” His smirk seemed mocking now, but it was still fatally attractive. Damn him. “Go back inside. You’ll catch a cold out here.”

And so, you watched Riki get on his motorcycle and take off with a sulky scowl on your face.

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“Y/N.”

Riki was leaning against his motorcycle as he beckoned you over to where he was. You hesitantly walked over, feeling your palms begin to perspire. Ever since you decided to go behind his back and still go to the dojo with Heeseung, you felt like you were on the brink of being caught.

“Where are you heading?”

To the dojo. “Oh... I was just going home since Minji and Danielle can’t hang out today.”

“Let’s get something to eat.” Riki’s words left no room for any disagreements. He handed you his spare helmet casually. “Hop on.”

You shook her head frantically. “Oh—no. You don’t have to. I’m not—”

“Come on.” He insisted, forcing the helmet into your hands. “Don’t you want your gi back?”

You scowled. “Fine.”

After putting on the helmet, you hesitantly got on the back of his motorcycle. It was embarrassing since you didn’t exactly fit on the edge of the bike, though, it mostly had to do with you sitting as far from him as the narrow seat would allow. You were sure you’d turn into putty if you had any physical contact with him.

“Hold on tight.”

You grimaced, torn between playing out the one fantasy that had been replaying through your head for months and your rational need to set boundaries so your feelings would stop growing. You awkwardly grabbed Riki’s shoulders, hoping that you wouldn’t fall off once he took off.

Riki laughed at your obvious unease. He decided to do a break check so you’d realize that not holding onto him wasn’t an option. Suddenly, you were flung forward. The front of your body collided with Riki’s firm back with a loud thud. For a moment, you thought you had hurt him until you saw his shoulders shaking with laughter. You glared at the back of his head. “Riki!”

“I told you to hold on.” Riki said, the lilt in his voice was teasing yet there was also a serious undertone to his words. “Do you want to fly off?”

You almost told him that you wouldn’t if he went slow enough. However, you kept your mouth shut and hoped your obsession wouldn’t grow as you hesitantly wrapped your arms around his torso. You gently rested your head against his back and closed your eyes. Just for a second, you told yourself. For a small moment, you would let go of the worries that burdened you and simply enjoy being close to the boy you liked.

Something unfamiliar tugged at Riki’s chest. His head shifted a little, wanting to catch a glimpse of the girl on his back. Your arms were secured around his waist and you were leaning on him, but he suddenly found that it wasn’t enough. Somehow he wanted you even closer. Riki cleared his throat quietly, pushing the unfamiliar thoughts out of his mind for the time being.

And so, you two sped off, neither of you noticing the boy who had been watching their entire interaction from afar.

You uncomfortably picked at the food in front of you. Had this been last year, you would’ve been overjoyed at sharing a meal with Riki (part of you still was), but now you couldn’t help but feel like this was all some sort of trap. Like he knew you had gone against your promis and was waiting on Sunoo to show up to tell him everything.

“Are you not hungry?” Riki wondered with a slight frown. “Bulgogi is your favorite.”

Honestly, you felt like puking up all the butterflies in her stomach, but he didn’t need to know that. “I’m not really hungry.” Your words were hardly convincing, but Riki seemed to believe you. “I got used to not eating as much because of jiujitsu.”

Riki’s jaw ticked in annoyance. “Is that really all it is?”

“Yeah.” You nodded your head. “I swear.”

That aggravated look he had been getting a lot lately found its way onto his face again. “Are you sure it’s not because you can’t see Heeseung?”

Your reluctance to answer the question had irritation crawling up his skin like a parasite. He knew that’s what it was. The shy look on your face was all the indication he needed to know you were thinking about that idiot. Riki only asked you because he hoped that you would tell him. Once you did, he would tell you that Heeseung wasn’t worth your time.

“It’s not like that.” You told him, confused that he was getting so worked up.

“Do you like him?” Riki demanded, needing to hear those words come out of your mouth. “Tell me the truth.”

His tone caught you off guard. You chewed on your bottom lip, wondering if you should mess with him a little since he took your stuff. Maybe it was petty of you, but you decided to do it anyway. You gave him a half-smile that you were sure looked more like a grimace. “That’s a secret.”

Riki was sure his jaw would snap at any moment from the amount of pressure he was putting on it. “Just know you’re out of his league. You’re way too pretty to settle for him of all people.”

You felt like your heart was ready to burst at any moment from how fast it was beating. Damn him. Damn your feelings for him. You were aware Riki only spoke his words out of kindness (and out of his dislike for Heeseung), but your dumb heart couldn’t tell the difference. It was clear that Riki didn’t see you the way he saw Song Yura. To him, you would always be Sunoo’s sister. But for a brief moment, you allowed herself to believe that he sincerely meant what he said.

Your shocked gaze had Riki coughing nervously. It wasn’t the first time he called you pretty, but this time it felt different from all the previous times. His words seemed more... intimate, somehow.

You didn’t realize you were full-on staring until the chime of a text notification pulled you out of the trance that was Riki’s intense gaze. Your jaw nearly dropped when she saw Heeseung’s name on the screen. He didn’t text you very often, and when he did it was only ever to tell you he wouldn’t be at the dojo.

Where are you?

You briefly glanced at Riki before quickly typing out a reply.

I’m at the corner restaurant near the dojo. I’ll be there soon.

You put your phone back on the table, feeling like there was an impending doom waiting for you. There was this inkling you had that nothing good could come from Heeseung’s ominous message. Even so, you chose to ignore it for the time being.

“So.” Riki cleared his throat, not knowing why he suddenly felt so shy. “What’s so great about your little crush, anyway?”

You contemplated your next words. Riki probably thought you were going to tell him about Heeseung, but he could never know what you were about to say was all about him. It was the only opportunity you would have to tell Riki how you really felt about him.

“Ever since we met, he’s been nothing but kind to me. He sees me for who I am.” The corner of your mouth lifted a bit. “Some people think he’s a jerk, but he isn’t really. He’s actually really sweet and caring.”

Riki’s expression hardened. Sweet? Caring? Yeah, right. He was sure that he could be much more sweet than Heeseung who had the emotional range of a fish.

“What about you, Riki?” You questioned despite knowing his answers would only hurt your feelings. “Everyone’s talking about how much you like Yura. What kind of person is she?”

Riki raised his eyebrows, baffled. “What? I don’t—”

He cut himself off when he saw a familiar (and unwelcome) presence approach the table. If you thought his gaze was harsh before, it didn’t compare to the murderous look that crossed his face in that instant. You followed his gaze, mouth dropping open in surprise when you saw Heeseung standing about two feet away from the table.

“H-Heeseung?” You choked out, unable to believe that he was actually there.

“I got worried when you didn’t meet me at the dojo like we’d planned.” He said like his words weren’t the equivalent of dropping a bomb of chaos.

You could’ve choked Heeseung right then and there. What the hell did he think he was doing? You gave him a look, one that you hoped he would understand. Either he didn’t notice it or he didn’t care. You were willing to bet it was the latter.

“What are you doing here?” Riki’s voice was deceptively calm. “Don’t tell me you’re following her.”

In the few times you witnessed the two boys around each other, you knew it always got ugly fast. You could see where this encounter was heading, and it was heading there quick. Luckily for you, your saint of a brother decided to call you right then.

“Sunoo!” You hastily answered your phone. “What’s up?”

“Mom wants us home for dinner. She made ribs.”

“Okay. I’ll be there right away.” You hung up before he could say anything else. You scrambled to grab your bag. “I have to go—family emergency. See you guys later!”

With that, you ran away from the uncomfortable scene that was unfolding without looking back once.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

You waited at the front of your school anxiously. Riki hadn’t mentioned anything to Sunoo yet, and you were hoping you could convince him not to with a bit of begging. The seconds ticked by, and while you still hadn’t seen his familiar motorcycle, you saw the person who had dug you into a deeper hole.

“Lee Heeseung!” You hissed as you pulled him to the side. “What was that stunt you pulled yesterday? You know I can’t have anyone find out that I’m learning jiujitsu.”

Heeseung looked unfazed as ever. “I just want to know what you’re doing. You said you were trying to get over Nishimura, but you were having a meal with him.”

Your right eye twitched. “That’s because he said he would give me back my gi!” You whisper-yelled, wanting to pull on the ends of your hair in frustration. “Which he didn’t, thanks to you.”

“I also wanted to ask him why he has a problem with us being friends. It’s not like you’re his little sister.”

You’re not sure why that made your anger simmer to a simple irritation. Also, Heeseung did sort of have a point. You laughed incredulously, shoving his shoulder a bit. “You’re so immature, Hee. You know he has a problem with it because he doesn’t like you.”

Heeseung highly doubted the only reason Riki didn’t want you two hanging out was because of their mutual dislike for each other. He knew that you probably wouldn’t figure that out any time soon because you were too overwhelmed with your own feelings, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t find out the truth on your behalf.

Your smile was quick to slip off your face when you saw Song Yura staring your way. The heartbroken look she had her on her face caught you by surprise. Even worse, Riki was standing directly behind her. You felt herself panic. If there was any hope that your begging would convince him not to say anything, it was gone now. Now you were certain that you wouldn’t be able to crawl out of the hole you had dug yourself in.

Riki on the other hand could only look on with a glare. He had never planned on exposing your secret. It was only a pretense to get you to stop hanging around that prick, but now he could truly see that your feelings were stronger than your fear of getting in trouble. He had suspected that was the case for some time now, yet it still made him feel sick.

Why did it have to be Lee Heeseung of all people? Why couldn’t it be... anyone else?

Riki turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction, not knowing what to make of the heaviness in his chest.

taglist: @hoondiors @blurryriki @miiequalsx

#hooniblr.doc #niki x reader #enhypen x reader #niki imagines #enhypen x you #riki x reader #niki fanfic #enhypen fic #enhypen angst #enhypen au #enhypen fanfiction #enha angst #enha fluff #enhypen fluff #riki fluff #enha au

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wesstars · 28 days

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ducked out

tara carpenter x fem!reader (no pronouns)

summary: sam doesn't like what she's hearing. wc: 401 tags: suggestive language a/n: for the wonderful @evilwednesday.

masterlist

“Don’t you think it’s kind of small?”

Sam stopped in her tracks right in front of Tara’s door, feeling the shock of pure terror shoot through her spine. That was Tara’s voice, and while Sam didn’t want to jump to conclusions, things weren’t looking good for her sister right about now.

“No, this is an average size.” Your voice came through the door, snappy. In all honesty, you were the only one of Tara’s girlfriends that Sam had actually liked—she was desperately clinging to this thought as her mind went to the worst.

“It’s a weird design, though…”

“I like this design, Tara.”

“How much does it fit?”

Sam couldn’t make out your hushed words from behind the door, but dread began to ball in her stomach, heavy and sickening, as she couldn’t bring herself to just move. She desperately wanted to, of course, but it was like being frozen from fear.

“Wow, that’s a lot… oh—”

Closing her eyes in pain, Sam felt indignation began to take over. Of course, you and Tara were adults. It—it—was normal, perfectly so, but being faced with its reality… that was something Sam couldn’t handle.

“Just put it in!”

“No, it’s not going in.” Your voice floated alongside Tara’s. What the fuck?

“Try flipping it around.”

“I did, it’s not working!”

Truly, the world was ending for Sam. An apocalypse, natural disaster, global famine, couldn’t have topped this.

“Flip it back, just put it in—” Tara said insistently.

“Okay—”

“FUCK!” Yours and Tara’s voices sounded in unison as the door slammed against the wall. Sam stood in the entrance, panting with bright red cheeks.

“Sam! You almost broke the door down!” Tara was rightfully indignant, you thought. What the hell was Sam doing anyway, barging in and being impossibly loud?

You turned back, giving it one last shove. “Tara, I got it!” Sam dropped to the floor, face in her hands, as Tara faced you with a grin.

“God, you’re the best,” Tara said as she leaned in and gave you a kiss. “I was worried I’d have to go and get one myself.”

You reached out and rubbed Tara’s arm. “You can always trust me, babe.” A USB stood proudly in Tara’s PC, complete with a pattern of uniquely dressed ducks, of Robson...

A flash drive had ended Sam Carpenter’s world, and neither you nor her sister had a care in the world.

a/n cont’d: pranked… haha… happy fish of april 🦆

#project wes #fanfiction #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader smut #tara carpenter fanfiction #scream #scream franchise #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter x y/n #jenna ortega #crack fic #reader insert #self insert

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ozzgin · 2 months

Text

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (III)

On your travels with the two demon companions, you stumble upon a fortified village plagued by monster attacks. It would be quite unlucky if the grand finale happened just as you step foot inside, right? Worry not, you're saved by a third mysterious yokai that you immediately recognize. The harem grows!

Content: female reader, monsters, violence

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]

“Alright, how’s this?”

You do a clumsy pirouette before the two yokai men.

“That’s...are you sure?” Kiritsubo eyes you, mildly confused. “It’s usually what men wear.”

Of course, you already know. After weeks of walking through feudal Japan, you’ve reached the conclusion that modern clothing isn’t the most practical choice. Not to mention the strange looks you always get from other people upon your arrival in any village. You needed something to blend in, and the typical fashion for your gender might not be compatible with your training. You’d rather not swing a sword while covered in multiple layers of kimono.

Thus, you opted for the hakama pants typically worn by men. With your hair tied up and in this baggy attire, one could think you’re a young samurai. If they squint enough. You chuckle at the thought.

“She’ll wear whatever allows her to not be a burden.” Murasaki concludes with crossed arms.

One way to put it, you tell yourself.

“If you’re done discussing fashion, we can leave.” The dark-haired man continues with indifference, standing up and adjusting the swords in the folds of his sash.

Both you and Kiritsubo hurry and follow behind obediently.

“Where are we going this time?” You ask sheepishly.

“South-west. An old residence of his, although we will have to pass through a fortified settlement first. We should reach it before sunset.”

It’s hard to imagine you’re the supposed savior in this equation. Murasaki has been leading you by the hand each step, carefully considering every detail on the map, and extensively planning your travels every evening. All this on top of your daily training. You’ve now mastered the basics with the katana he’s provided you, as well as some common prayers for exorcising small-class demons.

You glance at the daisho pair of swords under his belt. A long, thin blade, and a shorter backup version, both in elaborate matching scabbards meant to showcase the status and wealth of the samurai wearing them. In this case, meant to express his rank as the advisor and right hand of the famed onmyōji. You certainly don’t doubt Nakamaro’s decision to rely on Murasaki.

In comparison, Kiritsubo carries a nagamaki at his waist. A comically long blade in your opinion, used mostly to bring down horses during battle. Any regular sword would’ve been too small for him. Despite his imposing appearance, you’ve learned rather quickly just how different Kiritsubo is from the other yokai. He’s quite clumsy in combat, often anxious about making mistakes, terribly apologetic, and overall has a heart too kind for his own good. If there’s hesitation coming from his side, Murasaki immediately follows with his ruthless, ending blows. As a matter of fact, even you’ve had to do the occasional killing to spare the man of such choices.

The silver-haired demon notices your eyes on him and smiles, excited. He reminds you of a large dog. A horned, fanged dog of monstrous strength, nonetheless the innocence is there. And he does make a great travel companion.

“How much longer?” You grunt, looking up.

“Are you tired? I can carry you for the rest of the way-” Kiritsubo instantly offers but is interrupted by Murasaki’s barked orders.

“She can walk. Don’t spoil her.” He glares at you, then nods ahead. “We’re almost there, so quit your whining.”

True to his word, you can finally discern the outline of a wall at the top of the hill. A few more steps, and you can even spot two guards standing beside the great gate.

“Stop there!”

The soldiers lift their spears threateningly. Before you can react, Murasaki steps in front of you with a hand placed on his sword.

“We’re just passing through.” He states factually.

“We’re no longer allowing visitors.” One of the guards exclaims. “The village has been raided by monsters recently and our Lord has closed all gates until the matter is solved.”

“That means no filthy demons go in.” The other adds in a mocking tone, his gaze lingering on the horns of your companions. His mouth curls in disgust.

You can tell Murasaki is angered by the disrespectful approach. He is not one to let such insults slide and you’d rather avoid him claiming unnecessary victims; therefore, you push past his arm and plant yourself ahead with a polite greeting bow.

“These yokai are with me. I vouch for their good behavior, so please consider letting us through. Perhaps we can even help you with these monsters.”

“You? How would you…”

The man stops abruptly, switching between you and the yokai. Eventually he inspects your scabbard, and he gasps, confusion twisting his features.

“Could it be? No…He’d be dead by now.”

“What are you talking about?” His partner inquires impatiently.

“That’s the family seal belonging to Abe no Nakamaro.” He explains, pointing to the golden finish at the end of your katana handle. “I’ve heard about him from my grandparents. But it’s been decades!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re saying this kid is a legendary onmyōji?”

“Who else would show up with demons as servants? Everything matches. Perhaps his powers have finally reached immortality”, he concludes solemnly.

The men continue their argument, and you clear your throat, embarrassed. What the hell? You can’t possibly look that manly. Sure, you’ve been skipping the makeup, and the clothes aren’t exactly curve shaping, but to be mistaken for an old man is like a slap to the face.

You’re about to deny their claims, but Murasaki swiftly pinches the back of your neck, and you wince. He lowers himself to your ear and whispers:

“This will be to our advantage. Just go along with it.” “Fine!” You mumble angrily. Then you turn back to the guards.

“V-very well, I see I haven’t been forgotten.” You admit, theatrically. “Lead me to your Lord and we shall discuss the details of your monster attack.”

Thus, you sip on your tea, kneeling at the luxurious table and awaiting the arrival of the feudal Lord. The servants are exchanging words, gossiping fervently next to the wall. “I wonder if he can cure my daughter!” one woman mumbles, visibly emotional.

“Do you think we can finally be saved? He’ll truly exorcise the beasts tormenting our village?” another whispers.

You wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare at Murasaki. You had no idea he’d given you Nakamaro’s old sword. Now you’re stuck pretending to be a pompous, long-dead asshat.

“What if they catch us?” You hiss between your teeth. “I don’t know shit about onmyōdō.”

“Then I’ll just kill them all. Simple as that.” The crimson-eyed man retorts, unconcerned. “Have a little fun, won’t you?”

“W-we’ll help you come up with answers, (Y/N). Don’t worry.” Kiritsubo chimes in, trying to reassure you.

You sigh in frustration and look out the window. The sun must’ve set a long time ago and has since been replaced by a pitch-black sky. What’s keeping the Lord? Surely, he can’t be having important business meetings late at night.

Almost as if your thoughts were read, the door slides open and a servant wobbles in. The rest of the household workers are silent, expecting the entrance of their master, but no one is following behind. You observe the bizarre limp of the woman. Suddenly, she collapses to the floor, revealing her bloodied back torn by deep wounds, caused by some sort of claw. Her body is stiff.

Panic settles in right away, and the servants topple over each other to get away from the fresh cadaver. You struggle to get up among the terrified crowd, but thankfully Murasaki grabs your wrist and pulls you out into a quieter hallway.

“What the hell?” is all you manage to say.

“Rotten.” Kiritsubo furrows his brows, sniffing the air. “Someone in here must be possessed. Could be more of them.”

Murasaki surveys the surroundings and gestures towards his partner.

“We have to see if the Lord is still alive. You go that way. I’ll take the front. Kill everyone suspicious.”

“What about me?” You demand, holding your breath.

“Get out and wait for us. You know how to draw a protection circle, don’t you? I won’t take long.” The dark-haired yokai answers before vanishing.

Judging by the screams and wails coming from all directions, you suspect Kiritsubo is right about multiple attackers. You sprint across the hall, looking for an opening. The self-defense lessons didn’t cover cursed humans with demonic powers. You’ll stay out of this one.

What an absolute mess. You have encountered some demons in your weeks spent here, but nothing to this degree. When the guards mentioned a monster attack, you imagined a ghost with a grudge, or some small fry yokai scaring the workers at night, not a mass curse that ends in a massacre. Of course, it had to happen the moment you arrived at the main house.

You find a room with a door leading to the inner courtyard. Seems isolated enough and it should provide a bit of shelter while you wait for the pair to finish the business. As you rush past the dead bodies, you notice a woman hiding behind a screen divider.

“Ah! It’s you!” she yells, aware of your presence.

From the shadow of her secret spot emerges the small frame of a child. The woman pushes the little human towards you, blocking your path.

“Don’t worry, he’ll protect us.” she gives her child another nudge. “Go on, hold onto him. You’ll be safe.”

What? No, no, no, no, no. Not happening. You’re getting out.

“Ma’am, sorry to break it to you under such circumstances, but I’m not-”

You’re interrupted by a loud growl. One of the possessed creatures must’ve followed your scent, and it’s now sliding into the room on all fours with the bones of the limbs twisting and creaking in unnatural pounces. You purse your lips in a frightened grimace. One advantage of the wide hakama pants – useful to know – is that no one can see your knees shaking cowardly.

Theoretically, you could use the brat as bait and run for your life. It’d make a decent obstacle. Unfortunately for your life span, you’ve been gifted with an idiotic sense of duty instead of survival instincts.

“Keep your distance. If I can’t kill it, get out and don’t look back” you advise, positioning yourself in the learned stance and sliding the sword out of its sheath.

Damn it! Then again, it should be like fighting a zombie, right? Given the pathetic way it drags itself around, it can’t be too difficult to hit. Aim for the head, you repeat in your mind. Your fingers grip around the handle.

The ghoulish beast lowers itself, like a spring about to recoil, and leaps across the room with an ease you did not anticipate. Despite your iron hold, it slaps the blade out of your hands with enormous force. The impact breaks your skin, and you wince. There’s no time to weep, within seconds it could go for your vitals next. While Murasaki hasn’t gotten around to teaching you much hand-to-hand combat, you’ve read your fair share of shounen manga. The first idea that comes to mind is to put the beast in a sumo lock. You bend your knees smoothly and wrap your arms around the monster, feeling for something to hold onto. You grit your teeth and attempt to lift the creature.

A thundering laugh resonates within the walls, and you jolt, startled.

“I never thought I’d see the mighty Abe no Nakamaro wrestling with ankle biters like this. What are you going to do, throw it out of the ring?”

The voice is deep, loud, and unfamiliar. You can’t afford to look back to see the source, but it’s not hard to figure out the possibilities. So far, you’ve only been called by that cursed name by the yokai accomplices. Although now is not the best time to seek revenge.

“Shut up, I panicked”, you snap in frustration. “If you can’t help, keep that trap closed!”

The sudden burst of anger seems to have triggered something within your body, a power you don’t recognize. You watch as your arms effortlessly pick up the monster and swing it across the room, its body demolishing the opposing wall and causing thick clouds of dust to rise and spread everywhere.

The impact must’ve alerted the nearby ghouls, as you can now hear the agitated trample and screeching rapidly approaching. You’re not confident you can pull the same lucky move a second time.

You turn to search for your sword, but it’s already being handed to you by the mysterious yokai who’s been observing your little fight. You have to step aside and tilt your head all the way back in order to fully view the gigantic frame of the man.

Ah, you recognize the features immediately. The same kind of fear you felt when you stumbled upon that old shrine statue is now tugging at your chest.

“You’re Suma, right?”

A proud, wide grin forms on his face, revealing a pair of glistening fangs. His expression is unexpectedly soft and friendly.

“We’re halfway through our introductions then, eh?” You pick up the sword and his fingers stretch out for a handshake. “What is your given name? I’m guessing you don’t willingly go by that…title.”

“I very much prefer (Y/N), yes.” You marvel at the significant difference in size, placing your small hand in his. “Was that your power I just used?”

“Mhhm. You sure surprised me there! It’s not something I did intentionally, but I s’ppose we just resonate that well, huh?”

He laughs again, completely unbothered by the impending danger.

“Alright, you can leave the rest to me. Take the lady outside, it will get a little messy.”

And with that, he casually walks towards the gathering of ghouls. You guide the family to the courtyard and wait for the battle to end.

“Do you think she’ll be fine by herself?” Kiritsubo is resting against the fence, keeping you under a watchful gaze.

“Let the humans sort it out among themselves.” Murasaki responds, somewhat bored.

The morning after the attack, you offered to deal with the survivors: ask them how everything started, if they’d noticed anything suspicious days prior to the event, and if the route to Nakamaro’s old residence was still open. The yokai men had found the feudal Lord in the jaws of a possessed creature and he quickly succumbed to his wounds. Consequently, only the remaining servants could provide them with clues.

A village being targeted like this is highly unusual, and Murasaki can’t shake the feeling it could be related to their master.

“Oh, where are you heading after this?” The silver-haired yokai glances at Suma, sitting lazily next to them.

“Where? After you just told me the whole story? I’m way too invested in this modern reincarnation that just popped out of nowhere, so I’m tagging along!” He announces with a chuckle.

Murasaki frowns.

“We don’t need your help.”

“Don’t be like that.” The giant man pouts dramatically. “Are you upset I saved (Y/N) before you?”

“W-we were on our way!” Kiritsubo retorts, visibly bothered.

“It’s a done deal!” Suma rests his hands under his head and yawns. “Besides, the little human already said he doesn’t mind.”

“He? (Y/N) is a woman.”

The redhead abruptly sits up and gasps.

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t get funny ideas, man”, the silver-haired demon warns.

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tender-rosiey · 9 months

Text

mourn and want — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: angst version of gojo coming back so don’t say I didn’t warn y’a; also him saying my wife makes me giggle like HEHEEHE

satoru’s vision is blurry. he can’t see anyone except kenjaku and sukuna, though his thoughts immediately drift to you.

he can feel your cursed energy somewhere, but it’s so faint. it worries him so he quickly teleports to shoko and his students. his eyes strain as they frantically search for you, “where is y/n?”

most of them stay silent and he immediately jumps to the worst conclusion, but shoko doesn’t let him dwell on it for too long.

she lets out a sigh and it’s followed by a mutter, “follow me.”

she starts walking towards an abandoned building, probably a hospital, and satoru wordlessly walks after her. their footsteps echo throughout the deserted hallways, along with the sounds of water droplets hitting the ground every few seconds.

they finally arrive at a room and its door is noticeably cleaner than the rest. satoru speaks up, for the first time since they started walking, “is she here?”

shoko nods, and her face is solemn, “yeah, but…” she looks away from the moment, “she won’t make it. she will probably die in an hour or something.”

“can’t you do something? anything?”

“satoru, I tried, but whoever attacked her did irreversible damage,” she takes a deep breath, “the healing won’t even work so—I suggest you talk to her and get your moments. she has been asking for you ever she came out of that attack.”

with nothing else to add, shoko left, but not without patting satoru’s shoulder lightly.

he hums quietly then his hand reaches for the doorknob. he takes a deep breath and braces himself for what he will see. satoru is no stranger to death. in fact, he met it personally.

for some reason, though, he feels like yours will be the hardest to face and endure.

the door clicks and he pushes it lightly. his eyes fall on your resting figure, if resting could be used as a word with how in pain you look.

you’re breathing heavily and your hand is clutching your side. he closes the door behind him, a small grin on his face, “hey, pretty? missed me?”

your eyes peak open and you glance towards the door. a small smile appears on your face at the sight of your husband, “satoru…”

he chuckles and gets settled right beside you, “the one and only…how’re you feeling?”

a wheeze escapes your lips as you try to sit up, but satoru quickly—and gently—pulls you into his embrace.

now, you’re both on the ground with you cradled in his arms. you look up, “I feel like shit.”

“figured,” he smiles while caressing your cheek, “you look the part.”

after your small laugh, the both of you fall into silence. your hand is holding onto satoru’s. you take a moment to breathe then you mumble, “I don’t have much time left.”

his arms around you tighten just a bit, “don’t say that.”

“but it’s true.”

he bites on his lips to hold back his tears, “no, no, it’s not—you can’t do this to me,” a shaky breath escapes his lips, “we still have a future together, a daughter to raise.”

you weakly reach put for his face and make him look at you. even with his teary eyes, he manages to compose himself quickly. you sigh in content, “at least, she will have you, her strong papa.”

“why can’t she have her mom as well? why are you giving up so easily?”

“I tried a lot, but it wasn’t and will never be enough—everyone tried!”

the tears you’ve tried to suppress are falling freely, “but it hurts so much, ‘toru! I can’t go on living with this pain!”

satoru is stunned to his core before he swiftly recovers and pulls you closer, doing his best to comfort you, “shh, I am sorry,” he kisses your temple, “I didn’t mean it,” your cheeks, “I am sorry.”

your arms weakly wrap around his shoulder as you sob into his chest, “I don’t want to die! I want to be with you! I wa—want to wake up to you by my side!”you’re cut off by your sob, “I want to raise our daughter together! I want to hear her sweet giggles every day—satoru, I don’t want to go yet!”

“I know,” he buries his face in your hair, “I don’t want you to go either.”

his hand is rubbing your back while you cry and wail. he presses feather-like kisses to your head, before he speaks, “I—…I want to hear you scold me more. I want to see your messy hair every morning. I want to see you team up on me with our daughter. I want to feel your love and give you mine every—every single day.”

you pull away slightly and you lock eyes. he isn’t crying, but he can’t deny the lump in his throat nor the pit in his stomach. you peck his lips gently and rest your forehead on his, “promise me that you will take care of her.”

his thumbs wipe at your tears before he nods, “yeah,” then whispers, “I promise.”

his face is still so close to your own as your body relaxes slightly in his hold. with a small sigh, you murmur against his lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too—I love you so much,” he croaked.

“you better,” you smile before closing your eyes and leaning into his touch.

your body goes limp, and satoru immediately hugs you closer, tighter. your face is buried in his chest while he repeatedly and frantically kisses the top of your head, tears of his own dripping to the ground.

his body envelopes your own like he’s fearful of the fact that something will take you away, yet again.

he doesn’t hear the door open at first.

his blood-shot eyes eventually travel to the person who entered, shoko. her voice is shaky as she speaks her name before she sighs, “I need to take her—“

“no.”

his eyes focus on your face once again, “I didn’t get to mourn all who passed—and I will be damned if I don’t mourn for my own wife.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @magenta-cat-drawingss @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo imagine #jjk gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo x you #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #jjk x y/n #jjk gojo x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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mswritergirl02 · 21 days

Text

38 Missed calls and Tequila

In which Harry and y/n fight causing her to storm out

-> Reader advisory: mentions of alcohol and explicit language, proceed with caution.

A/N : Taking requests (:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N paced back and forth in the living room, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “I can’t believe you, Harry! You always do this, you never listen to me!”

Harry’s brows furrowed, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “And what about you, huh? Do you think you’re always right? You’re so damn stubborn!”

“Well, maybe if you cared about my opinion for once—”

“Care about your opinion? I bend over backwards for you, Y/N! But it’s never enough, is it? You always find something else to complain about!”

“Oh, so now this is all my fault, is it? Typical!”

Harry threw his hands up in exasperation. “For fucks sake I never said that!

Y/N’s voice trembled with anger and hurt as she launched her accusation.

“You know what, Harry? I bet you’re cheating on me, aren’t you? That’s why you’re always so secretive about your phone, always disappearing at odd hours!”

Harry’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you serious, Y/N? I’ve told you a million times, that I’m not cheating on you! You’re just making things up because you can’t stand losing a fucking argument!”

Y/N’s voice rose at his accusation. “Oh, please! Don’t act like you’re innocent in all of this! I see the way you look at other girls, Harry! You can’t fool me!”

Harry’s patience snapped, his frustration evident in his tone. “I can’t believe you’re bringing this up again! You’re always jumping to conclusions, always looking for a bloody reason to doubt me! Maybe it’s your own insecurities that are driving us apart!”

Y/N’s anger faltered, replaced by a pang of hurt. “I’m not insecure, Harry! I just want to know that I can trust you!”

“Well, maybe if you gave me a chance to prove it instead of constantly accusing me of things I didn’t do!”

“I’ve been nothing but loyal to your crazy ass for four fucking years,” Harry declared, his voice tinged with frustration and hurt.

The tension in the room was thick, each word a painful reminder of the growing rift between them. Y/N’s heart ached with the weight of their words, knowing deep down that her accusations were absurd, Harry loved her. Still she was unable to stop herself from lashing out in a desperate attempt to regain control of the argument.

Y/N's lips curled into a sneer as she spat out, "Go fuck yourself, Harry!"

With that, she snatched her keys off the coffee table and stormed out, the door slamming shut behind her.

Harry stared at the closed door, his chest tight with frustration. "You're fucking crazy," he yelled, knowing she couldn't hear him and was long gone. He cursed out loud and sank onto the couch, running his hand over his face.

“A bloody fucking carpet," he muttered to himself, the absurdity of their argument hitting him like a ton of bricks. They had been fighting over a bloody carpet, of all things. It was ridiculous, and yet somehow it had escalated to Y/N storming out in anger.

They hadn't been in the best place lately. Y/N was constantly stressed out at the office, working long hours, barely having time for herself, let alone for him. And Harry, always buried in his work, was rarely home to see her, too caught up in his next album to notice the distance growing between them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

12am

38 outgoing calls

Harry’s nerves were on edge. He had called Y/N 38 times since she stormed out, each call going straight to voicemail. It wasn’t like her to stay out this late, and the thought of not knowing where she was made his stomach churn with anxiety.

Pacing back and forth in their empty apartment, Harry’s mind raced with worry. He had grown accustomed to Y/N’s silent treatments during their arguments, but this was different. This silence felt suffocating.

12:30 am

“Answer your phone, Y/N,” Harry muttered under his breath, frustration and fear mingling in his voice. He reached for his phone once again, fingers trembling as he clicked on her contact for the 39th time. But this time, instead of the familiar voicemail greeting, a stranger’s voice answered Y/N’s phone.

As Harry heard the unfamiliar male voice answer Y/N’s phone, his heart raced with a surge of protectiveness. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, his tone sharp with urgency. “Why the hell do you have Y/N’s phone? Where is she?”

Before Harry could ask any more questions or receive a response, the phone call ended abruptly.

12:45am

It was around 12:45am when It clicked in Harry’s mind, Y/N had insisted they shared their locations when they first started dating. Harry quickly opened the app on his phone and zoomed in on her location.

Maggies Bar & Grill.

Confusion washed over him when he saw that Y/N was at a bar. Drinking was something she rarely did, especially alone at this hour. Harry’s heart raced with worry, imagining all sorts of worst-case scenarios.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his keys, and got behind the wheel. He knew he had to reach Y/N as fast as possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Y/N found herself in fits of laughter, seated on a bar stool behind the counter of Maggies. With tears of joy rolling down her cheeks, she swiftly grabbed her phone back from the male bartender’s grasp. Giggling, she teasingly whispered, “Don’t tell Harry,” and playfully pressed a finger to her lips.

Earlier, Y/N had confided in the sympathetic bartender about her rocky relationship with Harry. Each heartfelt confession she made was chased down with another shot of tequila, the weight of the world was momentarily lifted by the warmth of the alcohol. What she didn't know was that the bartender discreetly slipped her keys into his pocket when her attention wandered, silently determined to prevent her from making any rash decisions in her inebriated state.

“Y/N, I’m cutting you off,” the bartender said for what felt like the tenth time that night, his tone gentle yet firm. “All you’re getting is water from now on.”

Y/N pouted, shoving the glass of water away. “But I’m having fun!” she protested, her words slightly slurred from the alcohol. “I can handle a few more drinks, I promise.”

The bartender shook his head, a hint of concern in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I can’t risk serving you any more alcohol. It’s for your own safety.” With that, he gently pushed the glass of water back towards her, silently urging her to hydrate and sober up.

“You’re such a buzzkill,” Y/N slurred, her tone growing more aggressive as she leaned in towards the bartender, her eyes narrowed.

The bartender stood his ground, not going back on his decision. “I’m not serving you any more drinks tonight,” he stated once again.

Y/N’s frustration bubbled over, and she clenched her fists slamming them on the counter. “You can’t cut me off!” she snapped.

Just as Y/N opened her mouth to make a scene once more , Harry entered the bar, his eyes immediately locking onto her. With purpose in his stride, he made his way over to where she sat, his gaze briefly flickering to the bartender.

Harry’s expression was a mix of relief and concern as he approached. “Is everything okay here?” he asked.

The bartender met Harry’s gaze, his expression serious. “Harry I'm assuming? Yeah, everything’s fine now,” he replied, gesturing towards Y/N. “I had to cut her off a while ago. She’s had enough for tonight.” Recognizing Harry by Y/n's lock screen on her phone and his contact name.

Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But then who called me from her phone?” he questioned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he searched for answers.

The bartender hesitated for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out Y/N’s keys. “It was me,” he admitted, handing them over to Harry. “I knew she shouldn’t be driving in her condition.”

Relief flooded Harry’s features as he accepted the keys. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, grateful for the bartender’s quick thinking.

Y/N’s drunken aggression flared as Harry turned towards her. “What are you doing here?” she slurred, her tone sharp with irritation.

“I don’t need you babysitting me.”

Of course she's drinking tequila the one thing that brings out her temper even more

Harry cut her off with a stern glare, “Your breath reeks of fucking tequila and you’re in no condition to drive,”.

Y/N turned towards the bartender, “You're a fucking snitch” she accused him loudly causing heads to turn in their direction. Harry’s annoyance grew as he watched her escalate the situation.

“Y/N, you’re causing a fucking scene,” Harry muttered, frustrated to which she scoffed, pushing herself unsteadily to her feet.

She held out her hand. “Give them back. I’m driving myself home, I don’t want to look at you.”

Harry’s heart sank at her words, but he knew he couldn’t let her make such a reckless decision. “I can’t do that, Y/N,” he said gently, stepping closer to her. “You’re not thinking clearly right now. Let me take you home.”

Y/N shook her head stubbornly, her anger fueling her determination. “No!” she insisted, her voice rising.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. Just give me my keys!”

He was over her drunk antics.

Stepping uncomfortably close to her, he took the time to observe the way her hair fell over her ear. With a firm yet gentle touch, he reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, his fingertips lingering for a moment before trailing down her cheek.

Leaning in, Harry's voice dropped to a low and dangerous tone. “Y/N you better listen to me.”

“Drop the fucking attitude,” he snapped his breath sending a shiver down her spine as it brushed against her skin.

Now fully gaining her attention Harry continued speaking. “You're gonna lower your voice and follow me to the car like the good girl I know you are."

Y/n began to feel as if her legs were putty with each word she processed.

“Don't make me embarrass you here love,” he said while running his finger over her bottom lip.

“Because I can and I will.”

Harry's words hung in the air, commanding and unwavering leaving no room for argument.

Masterlist

Lights Out

#harry styles x reader #harry x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan fic #harry styles #dom harry styles #harry styles angst #harry x y/n

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billskeis · 5 months

Text

ᡣ𐭩 first time w bill

it was time. bill was finally ready to do it, after doing some research on his own time he eventually came to the conclusion that he was ready to have sex with you. it was communicated between the two of you and you couldn’t be any more happy to take this next step of the relationship.

you loved bill and you wanted his first time to be amazing.

“are you sure you’re ready bill?” you ask nervously, you didn’t know what caused this anxiousness. you’ve had plenty of experience before, but considering that this was the first time you’re actually doing it with someone you love makes your stomach fill with butterflies.

“yes, y/n, you don’t need to worry about me.. god, you’re breathtaking,” he comes to hug you, placing a kiss onto your lips. he takes a step back, grasp on your waist as he admired you in all your glory.

you wore a black matching lace set, showing off all your curves. bill just stands there to think about how he’s so lucky to be with the most beautiful person ever.

“bill..” “i’m sorry meine liebe, i just cannot stop staring at you,” you lean into kiss bill, cutting off his talking because once he starts he doesn’t know how to stop. deepening the kiss, he brings you to sit down on the bed, straddling you now onto his lap.

gently, he flips you onto the bed to lay on your back. kissing your neck, he goes down slowly leaving a trail of kisses on your body, reaching your heat, stopping. he sits up a bit to just look at you, expectingly.

he’s waiting for an answer, the okay, to take your panties off. you smile at him sweetly, to which he returns, his puppy dog eyes never leaving you.

wait, fuck, does he want to do this in missionary?

out of all the guys you had sex with, none of them wanted to do it in missionary with you. face to face. with bill, it’ll be your first time. your anxious, almost scared, not wanting him to see the ugly expressions you may possibly curate on your face while looking at him. it’s embarrassing.

propping yourself up on the bed a bit, you grab one of the pillows to hold it in front of your body, hugging it tightly. “baby, what’s with the pillow..?” he looks at you disappointed, he wanted to see your face while it’s the first time you guys do it.

“uhh—yeah! i just feel more comfortable with the pillow.. is that okay?” “mm, i guess so baby..” you then look up at the ceiling until you feel bill grab each side of your panties and pulls them swiftly off your legs, discarding them some place else in the room. “oh god,” he almost gasps.

slick glistens from between your legs, as bill leans in a little closer, he feels a stripe up the folds of your cunt, passing over your clit making your hips jolt up. there’s now a painful and uncomfortable tightness inside his pants. “bill.. please don’t tease.”

“m’ sorry baby, you’re just so pretty,” he inserts a finger, the stretch of his fingers feeling amazing. his fingers are long and slender, and despite his lack of experience, knows exactly how to utilize his hands, the pad of his fingers pressing over a spot your body particularly likes.

unable to control your moaning, you shove the pillow into your face. bill, clearly unsatisfied with this, inserts another finger, the feeling now even more unbearable as he brings his fingers back and forth, ensuring to curl them upwards to continuously hit the spongey part of your cunt that made you crazy.

choking on your breath, you try and get him to stop, “b-bill,” “hmm?” “i-in..” due to your lack of usage in words, he doesn’t quite understand you. that is, until, the coil in your stomach that was building up finally snaps.

legs shaking, your high washes over you and he lets you ride it out on his fingers. eventually, catching your breath he takes his fingers out and asks, “i’m so sorry oh my god, what is it that you want ‘in’ again..?” genuinely sounding concerned, he sits there clueless as if he didn’t just finger fuck you to an orgasm.

damn, how fucking clueless can he be?

you look down as his crotch, the obvious bulge wanting and needing to come out. he looks at your face to them look at his own crotch and back at you, “oh! yea, hold on..” he finally unzips his pants and frees his dick, springing up in anticipation as it hits his lower stomach.

holy fucking shit he’s huge.

and i’m talking wayy huger than any guy you’ve ever been with. you swallow a hard lump in your throat, calculating the length and the girth of his penis, unable if you could actually take it. having staring for too long, you shove the pillow into your face once more, waiting.

bill uses his fingers to collect the cum from your cunt, your hips shaking a bit from the sensitivity. he lathers it onto the tip of his cock and down his shaft. aligning it, he decides to tease you by rubbing his tip up and down your slit, staying a little longer to rub on your clit.

“b-bill! please, m’ still sensitive..just—put it in,” he inhales sharply, pushing inside. you can’t see him, but his mouth is agape at the new foreign feeling. “g-god y/n.. you feel so good..” as he inserts his thick length deeper inside of you, you can feel it all in your gummy walls.

you can feel your breath becoming short, almost choking as your body attempts to engulf all of your boyfriend. bottoming out, bill groans, he feels so good to be inside you. you hold the pillow as tightly as you hold bill, clenching onto him as you adjust to his size.

“is—is it okay if i move now schatz..?” face still covered, you nod into it, he sees these movements as an okay and begins slowly thrusting. he starts off erratic but soon begins to find a rhythm. he’s a natural, you thought, and this kills you both internally and externally. a bubbling begins to form into your lower abdomen once more, biting onto the pillow to make sure none of your moans slip.

a yelp can be heard from you when bill snaps his hips a little too harshly, now causing you to scream a little, legs shaking once more. bill gets scared, oh no, is he too big? did you die? does it simply just not feel good with him? fuck. thoughts filled his head as he rips the pillow from your grasp and looks utmost concerned.

“baby are you okay!? what’s wro—“ he looks down at you, watching you spew quiet and continuous ‘no’s’ and ‘don’t look.’

you have an absolutely fucked out face, tongue lolled to the side as saliva pools out a bit, your chest heaving, breasts slipping out your bra to reveal your perky nipples. he didn’t notice until he looked down, a now wet spot below the two of you where you connected, with a more obvious ease to slip his dick in and out your cunt. you came.

a tear spills out your eye, sniffling as you attempt to cover your face with the palms and fingers of your hand “i came again.. no more..” sniffling, bill wipes a tear from your face gently, “already done? but baby.. i didn’t get to come yet,” he begins moving once more. electric buzz can be felt in your core, a burn that feels so bad yet so good at the same time.

you mewl, grabbing each of one bills arms that had situated on both your hips to thrust hardly. how the fuck is he so good for his first time!? adding to the mix, he shakes away one of your hands from his arm and begins to rub circles on your clit, eyes rolling back, you try and get him to stop by smacking his arm, using any last bit of sense you had that bill already hadn’t fucked out of you.

“does it feel good y/n? i-i feel so good, i can’t stop. i won’t stop. m’ sorry baby, but you feel amazing,” not taking any time to stop his movement he continues to slam his length into you. biting his lips, he tries to hold his smile back from admiring how sexy you look under him.

his babbling doesn’t even register in your head, it’s all fuzzy and cloudly, eyes rolling back as all you can see now is white. “i-i can’t anymore..!” “i know, i know baby, one more time. just one more time and i’ll be done okay? how’s that sound?” you nod just hoping for him to stop because it hurts so good. the sensations were just too much.

little did you know, bill’s a liar. a big liar, he doesn’t want to stop, and he’s not going to. his cock is constantly rubbing against your g stop, he sometimes slows his pace to grind against you, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix. “unnnh b-bill,” “i’m gonna come, that okay? can i come in you?” he asks in anticipation, not being able to say no to your cute boyfriend you just nod.

luckily you’re on birth control, so bill feverishly rams himself into you, the burn of his hips hurting, but seeing as how it makes you feel good he doesn’t want to stop.

your bodies are just so compatible he wishes the two of you could melt together and never leave this moment, ever. looking at your belly while he fucks you, he thinks about coming and filling your stomach with his sperm.

the thought turning him on so much when he also sees how big the size difference is between the two of you, tip moving inside and out to cause a little bump form on your stomach from each thrust throws him over the edge.

stilling his movement, he cums inside of you, sperm coating the plush, velvety walls of your cunt. groaning, he rides his high out as he grinds his hips again just one more time. his grinding caused you to come once more. you scream a bit, biting your fingers raw to hold back your moans. bill on the other hand groans so loud the neighbours could probably hear him.

you’re already overstimulated, and you’re so tired. past relationships only managed to get one orgasm from you, most times not even one.

as your bodies were once connected from each other, he gets up from laying on top of you, kissing your lips, “are you okay..?” he asks, places kisses on your cheek, trying to catch your breath, you say, “never felt better,” “good, because i can still go for more! you can too, right!?”

bill looks at you with puppy eyes, you can almost see dog ears and a tail wagging happily. fuck, you can never say no to him. your pride and ego as someone who’s had more experience have just been thrown out the window. but who can say no to such a cutie??

you pat his head, he smiles brightly at you with flushed cheeks and sweat dripping of his forehead. getting up, he slips himself out of you as you sit upright on the bed. standing on the edge of the bed, he holds his cock out to your face.

you look up to him, a dark look in his eye, but a fire almost glinting in them. he smacks the tip of his dick onto your cheek, definitely expecting more from you as he’s made it super clear.

“suck it.”

what happened to my cute virgin boyfriend??

you came about four more times that night.

#tokio hotel #tokio hotel x you #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz smut #2000s #fyp

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luminousbeings-crudematter · 5 months

Text

You let Ghost break you in and Johnny gets to watch

PAIRING: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x F!Reader

WARNINGS: || 18+ only MDNI || butt sex ||

A/N: this chapter is just pure Nastiness, i dont know what else to say about it lmaooo || without @ohbo-ohno and her massive galaxy brain, this chapter would not be half as horny as it is (love you bo)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

____

The rules of your engagement had been simple: Don’t speak. Don’t lose concentration. Finish reading the report. Collect your reward.

So you’d complied, like their good fucking girl. You’d gotten on all fours, taken Soap in your mouth while Ghost had lodged his cock deep inside your cunt. They’d both fucked you with slow, lazy, indulgent strokes of their hips that felt almost like an after thought—but you couldn’t blame them. After all, while you couldn’t quite see you could hear the wet sounds of their tongues as they made out above you. You were enjoying the leisurely pace they’d set, but you’d kept your eyes firmly on the report Ghost had gotten you to read.

And you’d been doing so well.

Shame the same couldn’t be said for Soap.

Johnny had gasped suddenly, jerked away from Ghost with a start, grabbed your hair and started to thrust into your mouth with purpose, the rumble in his throat an unmistakable sign of how close he was to that blessed precipice.

But of course, that meant he’d broken the rules Ghost had set for him. His attention was supposed to be on Ghost.

Ghost had pulled himself out of you and you’d almost whined in protest—but everyone was going to be punished, it seemed, and Ghost had used uncharacteristic gentleness to push Soap away from you too.

Johnny didn’t take it well, having been so close to finishing in your mouth, so eager for that sweet release after hours of foreplay that when he’d left the hot cave of your mouth, he’d been almost ravenous. You’d glanced down at his cock, the tip an angry red, jutting upwards, hard and slick and beautiful with the evidence of your attention on him. You’d even gone so far as wanting to protest on Johnny’s behalf, but when Ghost had obliged him to tuck himself back into his trousers with just a hard, unblinking stare, you’d decided to shut your mouth and keep it shut.

____

You almost forget about the whole thing, but of course, you should have known better, and obviously, it’s all far from over.

You only realise the part you have to play in Johnny’s punishment a few days later when you find yourself in his room, in his bed with Ghost, but Johnny isn’t allowed on.

It takes you a second or two to understand what’s happening—you’re clearly the last one that does because Johnny just makes his way to the small chair in his room, whilst you’re tugging Ghost by his hand onto the bed. “Erm, where are you off to?” you call out to Johnny, and the sound of your own voice makes you giggle.

(You’ve long since reached the conclusion that every sound that leaves you is hilarious once you’ve had a few drinks).

Johnny’s eyes nervously dart to Ghost and then back to you. He opens his mouth to speak, but looks at Ghost, then closes his mouth again. You assume Ghost’s expression gives him the green light to tell you—what the fuck?—and he looks back at you with a slightly strained smile. “Why don’t y’two go ahead and start? I’ll join ye in a second, bonnie.”

“...in a second?” You’re confused, you’re so confused, and you drop Ghost’s fingers that you’d been absentmindedly playing with and push away from him, looking between him and Johnny. “Boys…what—what’s going on?”

Simon pulls you back into him, and the feeling of his warmth behind you instinctually relaxes you. “It’s all good, love, don’t worry about Soap. He’s okay with this, isn’t he? Aren’t ya, Sgt?”

“Yes, sir,” Johnny grumbles, but his eyes sparkle with interest as he watches Ghost nudge your top away with his nose, kissing his way up from your shoulder to your jaw. He’s sloppy about it too, leaving a wet trail on your skin.

Johnny slowly lowers himself onto the chair, but his posture is far from relaxed—he’s leaning forward towards you, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together as though in prayer—and his eager eyes follow the movement of Ghost’s lips on your skin. “Ye can still enjoy yourself, bonnie,” he murmurs. “Simon’ll take care of ye.”

“Okay, Johnny,” you breathe, unable to keep your eyes open and blissed out as Ghost’s seemingly gentle kisses descend gradually into bites and licks and nips at the sensitive skin behind your ear. He uses the opportunity to lead you deeper onto the bed, and you end up kneeling on it while he stands with his back to Johnny, obscuring your view of him entirely. You try to refocus on Ghost, and he pulls the balaclava off entirely when you tip your face up to him for a kiss, eager to feel his lips on yours.

It’s…been a while. It’s been more than just a while.

You’re not part of their dumb boys only club, and it’s been weeks since you’ve seen the two of them with nothing eating into your time together—not broken rules of engagement, not the clandestine operations that take them away from you, and not some other stupid shit that goes on around the place. No, you’ve got them now, both of them and entirely to yourself, and you intend to take full advantage.

And it seems that Ghost wants you to start right here, with him.

Kissing Ghost has always made you feel like you need to be there and take it, all of it, whatever he gives you. A scarred, rough, scraped up hand comes up to guide your chin to drop for him so that he can devour your mouth, explore it, map it, commit it to memory. His thoroughness is unyielding, his attention to every detail about you steadfast and unquestionable.

Ghost knows that a gentle hand around your neck will make you press closer to his chest, eager for contact, eager for connection, but he knows that the slightest tightening of his fingers will draw a gasp, and then a moan. He knows that his other hand, winding around your back and cupping the back of your neck will draw a whine out of you, make you soften your shoulders, melt into him.

Ghost is the kind of man who, if you could trace his lineage, you know you’d find a God.

Under all the performative bullshit lay someone who may not understand you yet, who you are and what you want, but he knew what you needed when you were vulnerable for them like this, and you find yourself grateful for it all the same, revelling in the knowledge that this is more than enough.

When he pulls away from you, it takes you a second to open your eyes.

“Remember wha’ we talked about?”

Your eyes flicker between his, the whites standing starkly against the dark, melted caramel, and you nod yes.

“Out loud,” he instructs.

“Yes, sir, I remember,” you whisper.

“Good. On your stomach, then, soldier.”

____

You wonder what he sees when he looks at you like this. You wonder what Johnny sees.

You’re on your knees for Ghost, spread as wide as they’ll go, chest to the bed. You’re not allowed to speak except to answer him directly, or tap out if it all gets to be too much.

It’s been hours. He’s had you in every single way but one.

And Ghost is…well. Heh. Ghost, in his infinite altruism, is demonstrating to Soap how he’s preparing your ass to take him. Ghost is unbelievably gentle with you, and you’ve come on his fingers and tongue twice already—it’s made you loose and languid and rendered you absolutely cock-dumb. You’ve been prepping for this for weeks without them (you didn’t even want to ask where on earth they’d found a plug for you on base) and it was paying you back in spades. You’d never been more relaxed, more comfortable, and Ghost? Well, Ghost was having a good time.

As if in direct response to your thoughts, Ghost spreads your cheeks and you hold your breath as you feel him blow a warm stream of air, right fuckin’ there, and it makes you shudder, an earthquake down your spine.

“Look at her, Johnny,” he whispers. “Isn’t she fuckin’ perfect?”

It’s rhetorical, of course, and you can’t see his expression but you wish you could when Johnny chokes out a raspy, “Perfect, Lt.”

You feel Ghost shifting behind you, adjusting further, until you feel teeth on your cheeks, just the hint of his canines digging into the supple flesh. “Fuck,” you moan, and it makes him exhale air harshly through his nose in amusement. When he finally drags his tongue to the centre, you hold your breath, hold yourself as still as possible, biting your bottom lip. Hard.

Ghost is sloppy about it. He’s loud and messy, trying to bury his face inside of you. You feel his nose dig into you, the barely day-old stubble scrape against your sensitive skin, you feel everything. You think you can see colours through your closed eyes at this point, so hard do you clench your eyes shut from the stimulation.

So far gone are you that you don’t even realise that Johnny’s here beside you, your sweet Johnny, brushing your sweaty hair away from your face and cooing at you, murmuring to you. You open one eye to look at him, try to lift your face up to kiss him, but Ghost uses the tips of his fingers on your lower back to push you right back down, and so you end up where you began—cheek smushed against the bed, begging to be fucked, begging to be put out of your misery, begging for Johnny, for Ghost, for them to do something other than tease you.

Thankfully, Johnny seems to hear your thoughts because fingers that you know aren’t Ghost’s make their way to your cunt, sliding in like a dream, synchronising their thrusts with Ghost’s licks, driving you to a whole new level of insanity. Pleasure blooms in the pit of your gut, travelling in all directions, holding you as its willing captive.

“God, please Johnny, please please,” you moan, and he murmurs to you again, but you can’t even attach meaning to the sounds. You don’t even understand what you’re begging for, you just need that elusive something, that one thing that’s going to make you feel good now now now and you don’t know how to get it, you don’t know if you can and it makes you even more desperate, feeding the cycle once more, leaving you feeling like a screen door in a storm.

Ghost pulls away, uses just the tip of his fingers, spreading the slick around your asshole, over and under but not quite giving you the blessed relief of slipping inside you yet. No, you’re being tormented, and you don’t even know why.

“Please, Ghost…you promised,” you murmur, and moan when both his palms squeeze the fullness of your ass. And that’s all you get. No verbal response, no confirmation that he’s heard you, nothing. It’s like your body is a toy for his amusement, and you clench involuntarily, your heart galloping in your chest at the thought. It’s exactly what you’d asked of him, of both of them, to be their plaything, to be a thing they could use, an object for them to keep themselves busy, and you were so fucking happy, so fucking proud that Ghost was finally taking you up on it.

Ghost works you up to take just the tip of his finger inside you, just a little past the apex of his nail, and your responding moan is fervent, sincere. You grip the sheets around you and find that you're clenching in anticipation, even down to your toes. “God, that’s really good,” you breathe.

“Johnny!” Ghost barks, and at once, he’s on attention, ready to please. Like a dog on the shortest leash known to man, Johnny’s ready for the next set of instructions. You think you won’t hear them, but they’re snappy and clear. “Hold her open for me,” Ghost instructs, and Johnny’s pulling his fingers out of you (to equal parts of dismay and excitement on your part), and spreading your cheeks wide, keeping them spread wide.

You hear shuffling behind you, the cap of a bottle popping open, one of them kissing the other, quickly, quietly. A moment later, you find that your spine relaxes further, warm lube dripping generously from Ghost’s fingers to your asshole, your inner thighs, on to the bed below you.

He’s going back to his previous form of torture then, pushing one finger inside you, giving you a brief moment to relax, to adjust, before teasing you with the tip of another. He makes sure to go slow, alternating between gentle thrusts and stopping all movement entirely, making sure one finger is in you to his knuckle before the tip of another enters you. It’s slow and torturous and delicious, the pressure and foreign sensation of it all adding to the sensitivity, Johnny’s sweet murmurs helping you along.

You feel like an exposed nerve, frayed and wrought by overstimulation by the time he’s got three fingers in you—all you are is pure, unbridled sensation, each thrust, each movement of his fingers inside you sizzling into your mind, there to stay. He’s been patient with your body, respectful and careful, until his fingers move deeper into you, quicker, easier.

When he pulls out, you mewl, but he hushes you with a quick kiss pressed to your back. “Sitrep,” he whispers against your skin and it makes you shudder, goosebumps breaking across your skin at the feeling of his lips.

“S-solid, I’m solid, sir,” you say, infusing as much confidence in your voice. “I can take you.”

“Hear that, sir? She can take you,” Johnny repeats, but his voice is fond and you feel your cheeks warm at the undisguised affection in his voice.

“Mm,” Ghost says. “Back to it, Johnny. Off the bed. Now.”

“B-but Simon—”

“Shh,” you whisper, interrupting him. “Do as he says, Johnny.”

“Steamin’ Jesus,” he growls, but you feel the bed decompress as he gets off it anyway. But of course, Johnny’s a rebel at heart, and lives to challenge authority. So you can’t say you’re entirely surprised (though you are thoroughly amused) when he drags his chair to the other side of the room, so that now, he sits right in your line of sight. No Ghost blocking his view, and so Johnny gets to watch the show unobstructed. Ghost gets off the bed, and you wonder why, before you see that he’s going up to Johnny.

“Ye told me to get off the bed. Ye never said I couldnae watch,” Johnny says defiantly, a hint of smugness in his tone from having seemingly outsmarted Ghost.

But Ghost only stands in front of him, pulled up to his full height, arms crossed over his chest and nods. “I did. Now I’m telling you to shut up.”

“Wha-mmpf!”

Your eyes go wide with horror (and a bit of awe) when you see what Ghost has stuffed into Johnny’s mouth to get him to shut up. You only recognise your panties by the small amount of pale purple lace that isn’t stuffed entirely inside his mouth.

When Ghost turns his back to Johnny, not giving him the opportunity to retort (not that he could!), his eyes soften and he looks at you with the hint of a smile around the brackets of his mouth. You realise what he’s saying to you without him having to spell it out for you, and when you narrow your eyes at him and give him a small smile back, you think you’ve broken new ground with the Lieutenant.

He settles in place behind you and lays a warm, reassuring palm on your back. “Breathe for me.”

And you do. You take a few deep breaths, and the tip of his cock is angled exactly where he needs to be. He bends in half over you, covering the entirety of your back with his body, and you sink under his weight. “Breathe out, Sgt,” he reminds you, and when you do, he pushes the tip of his cock inside you.

The stretch, the burn—it’s exhilarating. Your heart beats like you’re running a marathon, but you continue to breathe deeply, allowing your body a chance to relax, to accept the foreign feeling, allow the instinctual feeling of ridding yourself of the invasion to be replaced by the creeping waves of pleasure.

It’s full, you feel so full, you can feel him in your throat, and, “F-fuck. Fuck you’re so…so fuckin’ tight, love.”

Ghost continues to talk to you encouragingly, continues to ease in inch by blessed inch, until you tap the bed beside you with your open palm once, and he freezes. “Okay. Okay, I’ll stop. This is good. This is good?”

“Yes, God, Ghost, want you to move, please please,” you mewl, and he obeys immediately. His hips don’t exactly meet yours, but they come close, they come so fucking close, that you shudder at the depth he must reach inside you. He moves in shallow thrusts, careful with you, careful not to break you, listening out for every sign your body gives.

When he pulls out of you and rearranges you, you go with him like a ragdoll. He whispers in your ear as he does it, and you eyes snap open.

Yes. Yes, you would like to do that, actually.

You squeeze his wrist in silent acceptance and you’re left wondering at his strength, and the unabashed, raw display of it, when he holds you up with your back to his chest, legs thrown over the crook of each arm so your cunt is on full display, so Johnny can see exactly what he’s missing out on. Ghost continues to move inside you, controlled thrusts that feel like heaven to you, but you pull yourself away from it just enough so you can focus on Johnny.

The poor man stays quiet, just like he’s been instructed to, but his eyes are blown wide, stark bright blue burning a hole into you, catching your vision that’s gone slightly hazy at the edges.

And because you’re feeling particularly wicked, head pleasantly buzzing with the effects of the alcohol and of Ghost, you decide to play along with the little game. “Why weren’t you good for him, Johnny? See how wet I am, I need you it hurts,” you sniff, and the tears streaming down your face provide just enough visual aid for your performance to be convincing. “My pussy hurts, Johnny,” you mumble again, your eyes downcast, and you watch as Johnny’s knuckles turn white where he has a death-grip on the armrest of his chair.

Johnny turns desperate eyes to Ghost but Ghost interrupts whatever Johnny was planning on doing or saying. “Choices have consequences, Johnny” he growls and Johnny’s expression morphs into what looks like the various stages of grief— you have to work hard to stay in character.

You raise your arm, fingers outstretched to where you imagine Ghost’s mouth is, and he takes them into his mouth without hesitation. When you’re satisfied with how wet he’s made them, you bring them down to your cunt, shuddering at the feeling of your own fingers on your sensitive skin. Every sensation feels amplified, somehow, and rubbing at your clit feels as painful as it feels good.

Johnny watches helplessly as you make yourself come on your own fingers, your cunt having nothing to clench on as you come, head thrown back into Ghost’s neck, who’s not faring so well himself. Your orgasm strangles his cock inside you, and he moans as he comes inside you, voice sounding guttural and hoarse, like it’s been pulled out of the deepest part of his chest.

When Ghost pulls out of you, Johnny’s on his feet instantly, consequences be damned. They take care to lay you gently on the bed, and murmur to each other in voices too low for you to hear. You phase in and out of consciousness as they clean you, dress you—they do everything for you. You grumble through the pain medication they feed you and the water they make you drink, but then you’re too tired, too spent to stay awake and functional anymore.

You stay stuck in that weird point of lucidity for a while—where you can hear your surroundings, are aware of conversations, but lack the context to meaningfully contribute—and you hear them speak to each other in hushed whispers. One of them runs soothing hands through your hair, while the other rubs your hands. The last thing you hear is Ghost’s voice and a firm, “Always, Johnny” before your sleep pulls you under.

#simon ghost riley #ghostsoap #simon riley x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost smut #soap smut #lumi writes

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xxsabitoxx · 1 year

Text

I still do it better

Obanai x Mitsuri x Fem! Reader

Sequel to I can do it better

Warnings: rough sex, face sitting, cunnilingus, come eating, unprotected sex, creampies, marking and bruising, degrading, praising, overstimulation, consensual restraining, spitting, biting, breast play, scissoring, group sex, threesome, idk man a lot is going on I’m not gonna lie lmfao

Note: here we go! The long awaited part two. Hope y’all enjoy & I apologize if it doesn’t meet your expectations… this is why I kinda hate sequels I can’t lie 😭

The paragraph lengths vary in size because I had to break them up. They were initially massive paragraphs and I know damn well nobody is gonna want to read all that… so I had to break them up a bit half-hazardously

Word count: 10.5k

Your fingers trailed along your thighs, the small crescent shape bruises were nearly faded. For some reason, that made you feel a bit sad. It had been nearly a week since your encounter with the love and serpent pillars and nearly everyday that had passed since had felt as if you weren’t even there. You pulled yourself from your daze, turning to test the warmth of the bath water that you had been waiting on. You set your robes to the side, letting your body sink into the water and relishing in it as if it were a warm embrace.

You flinched at your own thoughts, you had been feeling utterly touch starved. You were silently longing for their warm bed once again, the soft touch of Mitsuri at your back, the warm breath of Obanai fanning across your shoulder. What got you the most is that you were missing him just as much as you were missing her. Not a day had gone by that your mind didn’t linger on that night. You had initially been so scared of it, the rough treatment Obanai bestowed upon you, the way Mitsuri seemingly cheered him on.

Part of you was mortified that you had enjoyed it so thoroughly. Now, you were aching to be treated like that for a second time. You craved the taste of her arousal, the feeling of his hands on you. They had unintentionally ruined you. You sunk lower in the water, not stopping until it reached just below your nose. You couldn’t believe yourself, betrayed by your own thoughts several times while trying to go about your day to day life. You had no concept of how to bring it up again, the physical reminders left on your skin wouldn’t let you forget.

Yet, part of you was aching for more, not quite satisfied with the marks that remained. You wanted more, from both parties. But above all else, you wanted to prove your worth. You wanted to convince Obanai you were worthy of his cum. Your legs kicked in the water, eyes squeezing shut as you came to the conclusion that you’d simply be plagued with these thoughts until you did something about them. Laying alone in your bed after had been the worst part. Having to drag yourself from their warm home and back to your empty quiet one felt like a death sentence.

“You really don’t have to leave just yet.” Mitsuri was worrying around you, fixing your hair neatly after you refused the offer of a bath. You wanted to wash your skin yourself, not create some fantasy that you’d stay here forever. “I’m fine, really Mitsuri. I need to get back in case I’m summoned for a mission.” You waved her off, thanking her quietly after she finished your hair. “Are you sure? You really don’t want to stay longer? We wouldn’t mind.” Obanai didn’t interject, instead he remained quiet as he began wrapping his face once more on the far side of the room.

He had been awfully quiet since waking up, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence like you were used to. “I appreciate the offer. I truly do. But I have to get back to my own home.” Your hands fidgeted in your lap, moving to stand with a slight limp. “You can’t even walk properly, please stay. Let us help you… it’s the least we could do.” You felt warmth spread across your face, especially since you caught Obanai chuckling softly. “Mitsuri please, if she wants to leave, let her leave.” You didn’t want to leave, but you knew if you stayed you’d fall in deep and never recover.

Little did you know the damage was already done. “Alright… but if you need us, you know where to find us.” Mitsuri’s hands fell to her kimono, fidgeting because she couldn’t quite figure out how to say goodbye. It was a one time thing, there were no strings attached from it. At least that’s what you told yourself as you bowed to them, stepping off their front porch and heading back the way you had come. It was a one time thing, nothing more. It repeated like a mantra as you limped back, face holding on to the embarrassed warmth as you tried your damn hardest to not look like you had just got your ass handed to you. “Damn him.”

You pushed yourself up, the bath water sloshing dangerously close to the edge. “What the hell am I going to do?” you whined to no one, your voice bouncing off the walls and right back at you. It felt like you were being taunted at this point, like the universe was waiting to see how long you would take to crack. You had to wonder what would happen if you just gave in. What if you just dragged your sorry ass back to their estate and begged for a second round… a rematch.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” you rubbed your face, trying your hardest to ignore the slow throb between your legs as your mind betrayed you yet again. “You’re a great stress reliever.” Obanai’s words lingered, probably a lot longer than they should have. The various things he had said to you felt as if they had been engraved on your skin. “Stay still and he’ll stop.” Mitsuri’s voice echoed softly, the gentle scrape of her nails on the back of your skull. Every time you close your eyes, you see them. “This has to be some sort of curse. Maybe Shinobu has something she could give me that will make me forget.”

Forget about the ache of wanting to people who would never want you back. You got out of the bath, not quite able to enjoy it the way you hoped you would be able to. The water ran off of you in rivets, the steam of the room was warm enough to not draw a shiver from you as you reached for a towel to dry yourself off. It was as if your body moved on autopilot, dressing yourself in one of your finer kimonos. It was a risky move, but you couldn’t keep going on like this without at least trying. Your fingers trailed along your face, head tilting left and right to make sure your hair looked alright.

You reached for your perfumed oils, dabbing a bit on your pulse points. You hesitated for a moment, wondering if putting on a bit of makeup would be too much. In the end you decided against it, you’d head out as you were. The worst that could happen would be rejection, then maybe you’d be able to move on. “It’s nearly 10pm, showing up at their home at this time will make me seem insane.” Yet, you were still stepping off your porch and into the moonlight, a clear destination in your mind. You sighed, knowing there was also the chance that neither of them may be home.

It was night after all, they could be patrolling their sectors and not be home till morning. Then, you’d feel like an absolute desperate idiot for doing this. Yet, the off chance that things would fall perfectly into place started propelling you further. The walk itself wasn’t a long one, you had come to find that you only lived about fifteen minutes from the two pillar’s estate. Thinking back on it, you only found your way home because of Mitsuri’s crow guiding you. How it knew your coordinates you’d never know, especially since Mitsuri had never been to your home. That, however, was a question for another day.

You steadied your breathing as the trees grew few and far between, eventually leading to the open space that their shared estate resides on. The estate itself was large, not as large as the butterfly estate but still quite spacious. A simple stone pathway leads up to the large roofed porch and double doors that would grant you entrance. You had to admire the amount of work Mitsuri put into her home, various wild flowers were planted along the pathway. You kept moving, slightly motivated by the various windows that held the light of glowing candles. It seems the two pillars were home, honestly it sent a chill of anxiety down your spine. Things had been so much easier when Mitsuri was the one initiating everything.

You stopped just before the small set of stairs leading up to the door, the quiet rustle of fabric making the hair on the back of your neck prickle. “Are you trying to scare the shit out of me, Obanai?” Your jaw clenched after speaking, a lame attempt at acting tough when in truth he’d scared the shit out of you. “Good to know you have some sort of spatial awareness.” He emerged from the shadows a moment later, still dressed in his corps uniform with Kaburamaru still sitting around his neck. You bit your tongue, scrunching your nose in disdain as he gave you a once over. “I noticed you as I was walking home, took a shortcut to beat you here.'' He looked almost smug about it, arms moving to cross his chest as he waited for you to say something.

“Oh so you’ve just finished patrolling for the night? I guess you’ll be of no use for what I came here for… Mitsuri’s home though, right?” You moved up the stairs, freezing when his arm shot out to prevent you from making it to the door. “That’s a sharp tongue for someone who’s trying to enter my house.” you glanced down at his arm before looking back up at him. “It’s the truth… I did come here for your girlfriend after all… not you.” You couldn’t see it, but you could just tell there was a shit eating grin creeping up his face. “You’re such a fucking liar.” you forced your expression to remain neutral, you knew you were a liar but you had hoped he wouldn’t see straight through you. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Kaburamaru hissed softly, reaching out to look at you better.

“Even Kaburamaru knows you’re full of shit.” Obanai’s hand moved to mockingly allow you entrance, pointing to the front door. “But if you’re so determined, go ahead and enter. I’m sure Mitsuri will be thrilled to see you.” There was a catch, you could tell by the glint in his eyes. There was something he knew that you didn’t. You stepped tentatively, pausing as your hand reached for the knob. “Go on, since you’re so desperate for her, there should be nothing holding you back.” The bite in his tone, everything you did that so much as pissed him off would only come around to bite you later.

That’s what it was, you realized quickly as you pushed on the knob and entered. He was observing your every move to use against you. “Obanai? That you?” Mitsuri’s voice echoed through the entryway, “Yeah, it’s me. We have a guest.” The rustle of cloth was followed by footsteps. “A guest?” Pink hair rounded the corner a moment later. Mitsuri’s hair was down, holding a faint wave from her three braids she typically wore. She was dressed in her sleepwear, the front of her kimono dangerously low and exposing her breasts. “I was just getting ready for bed. I didn't think we–Y/N!?”she stopped rubbing her eyes, blinking in surprise as she looked you over.

“Y-yeah, it’s me. If you were getting ready for bed then I can go…” You stopped mid-step backwards as Obanai’s hand grabbed your upper arm. “No! No it’s no trouble at all…I uhm…I assume…” Mitsuri’s face was steadily turning pink, apparently it was too obvious to everyone as to why you had hauled yourself over here. “She’s here for the reason you think, lovely. Seems she can’t stop thinking about you… though she claims to want nothing to do with me.” Obanai’s grip tightened, duo-tone eyes watching Mitsuri’s shift between the two of you.

“O-oh I see… well…” You could see the slight disappointment in her gaze, you wanted to turn and slap the serpent pillar for making you seem like a complete asshole. “That’s not true!” you swallowed your pride, even though it was literally the last thing you wanted to do. There was no point and no fun in any of this if Mitsuri was uncomfortable by the idea of you wanting nothing to do with her boyfriend. “Oh, It’s not?” Obanai jeered, he needed to hear you say it. “You’re such a dick, though I’m sure you know that…'' you glanced at Mitsuri, not able to hold Obanai’s gaze as you spoke.

“I-I came here because I can’t stop thinking about either of you. If you’re willing…I’d like to do it all again.” Heat flooded your body from head to toe, primarily in your ears. Neither spoke, for a moment you had to question if you’d crossed a line. “You would? Really?” Mitsuri’s eyes seemed to regain their sparkle, hands clasping excitedly in front of her. “Y-yes… if you’d have me… both of you.” Obanai should have known you’d turn into nothing more than a timid kitten when in Mitsuri’s presence. He couldn’t necessarily say he blamed you for it. As kind as she was, she was someone you didn’t want to upset or disappoint.

“Of course we’ll have you. Come along, let’s go upstairs, we can discuss more there.” Mitsuri’s hand reached for your own, Obanai’s grip letting you go as she dragged you towards the stairs. He stayed behind for a moment, watching Mitsuri practically hauled you up the stairs in her own haste. He had expected you to return a lot quicker than you did, for a moment he almost found himself impressed by your will to resist your desires. “Obanai?” Mitsuri’s voice pulled him from his daze, “Coming, I was just taking off my shoes.” his sandals were kicked off a moment later, Kaburamaru hissing softly. “Yes, I know. I’ll give you your dinner in a moment.”

“He’ll take a moment, he has to put Kaburamaru to bed. For now, make yourself comfortable.” The sleepiness the love pillar had felt was long since forgotten, replaced by a bubbling heat and shiver of excitement. There had been so many things she wanted to do, so many things that she had thought about doing since you had left that day. She had even considered going over to your estate only a few days after the fact to ask you if you’d like to do it all again. Obanai had convinced her otherwise, saying it was better if you came to them since they were the ones to go to you first.

He was certain you’d come back, though Mitsuri couldn’t really figure out why he was so sure of it. “You look beautiful.” Mitsuri smiled as she looked you over. “Oh-thank you… you look beautiful as well.” You hoped it looked effortless, as effortless as Mitsuri looked. Though something about the smile on her face told you she knew you had put a little bit of time into your appearance before coming over. “You’re so cute, y/n-chan. You’re trying so hard to not seem flustered but I see right through you.” She sauntered across the room, not stopping until she stood right before you. One motion and you knew she wanted you to open your legs, allowing her closer.

“You’re desperate aren’t you? It’s okay to admit it…” she reached to hold your face, holding you so you couldn’t look away from her. “… I am too.” “Y-you are?” You weren’t sure why you felt so vulnerable, part of you felt like you were a bother for coming over. “Of course I am, I’ve been thinking about you since you left last week. I wanted to go after you the moment you disappeared from our sight. I even had my crow follow you to make sure you got home alright.” Her thumb was brushing your cheek bone, green eyes scanning every inch of your features. “That so?” Your voice was just above a whisper, hoarse with desire. Her gentle reassurance quickly had your doubt melting away, replacing it with the desire that had driven you to this point.

“Of course it’s so.” Obanai was standing in the doorway, his haori discarded somewhere out of your sight. “Mitsuri…and I… were concerned about you. You left quickly after all, you never gave us a chance to discuss things with you.” “Discuss things…?” You glanced between the two pillars. “Yes, a lot happened, you know. And you were scurrying out the door… I should say limping out the door…” Mitsuri shot him a look, one that had him throwing his hands in his defense. “…anyways. I didn’t take it easy on you, then you were quick to leave after. Would have been nice if you stuck around to at least assure me you enjoyed yourself. I may treat you like a dick but I’m not heartless.” He stepped into the room, making his way to the vanity table Mitsuri had set up. “So, before we do anything… Did you enjoy yourself last time? Anything you’d like to do differently this time?” He began to unwrap his bandages, Mitsuri’s hands gently guided you back to looking at her. “Well, y/n? Did you enjoy yourself?”

“I… of course I did. I mean I was a bit overwhelmed at first but… I enjoyed it a lot. I… wouldn't have you do anything differently… honestly.” Your eyes squeezed shut as you uttered the last words, finally admitting to yourself more so than them that you did, in fact, enjoy the rough treatment. “That’s good to hear, though it would have been better to hear it a week ago.” Mitsuri let go of your cheek as Obanai spoke, stepping away from you with a small smile. Your head turned to look at the serpent pillar, face growing warm as you observed his unmasked face. Even in the dull glow of the candle light his scars stuck out. His eyebrows raised subtly, as if he was surprised to see you staring. You looked away quickly, chewing on your inner cheek in a failed attempt at not being embarrassed for getting caught.

“Well, if we’re all on the same page… why don’t we give it another go?” Mitsuri was shouldering off her kimono as she spoke, an innocent smile plastered to her face as her breasts spilled out of the top. There was something almost comical about the way both you and Obanai’s eyes zeroed in on her breasts, as if she were dangling candy in front of a baby. “Y-yeah… another go sounds good…” your skin prickled with desire, hands coming down to pull at the belt that kept your kimono in place. You stood a little quicker than you intended, the garment falling apart half hazardously as you tried to shoulder it off. “Eager… how cute.” Mitsuri was in front of you a moment later, helping you tug the garments off as Obanai observed quietly as he did before.

He loved to let Mitsuri take the lead, obediently waiting for her green light to do as he pleased. He didn’t mind it in the slightest, especially not when he was watching two women undress each other. His arms came to cross over his chest again, falling to lean back against the wall. You took the opportunity to close the distance, crashing your lips to Mitsuri’s and swallowing the noises of surprise she made. Your hands found her breasts easily, kneading the soft flesh for a moment before you moved closer, pressing your chest to hers. The noises of approval, her hands on your bare waist as your kimono fell in a heap on the floor, every motion causing your confidence to soar. “…bed.” It was breathless, saliva connecting your lips even after separating.

You let her go, dropping back to your spot on the edge of the bed. “Perfect… Now lay back.” You did as she asked, propping yourself on your elbows to watch her bend down to toss both of your kimonos to the side. “Obanai… you’ll do as I ask, right?” Your gaze shifted between the two, the smile on his face was enough to make your heart skip. “Of course.” It was almost effortless, as if the two had discussed things prior to your arrival. “Good.” Mitsuri was crawling onto the bed a moment later, arms and legs caging you in as she smiled down at you. “Lay back fully, no need for you to be up at all.” Again, you did as she instructed, completely enthralled by her and her closeness. “You did such a good job last time, eating me out and such…” you swallowed, eyes widening as your hazy brain began connecting the dots.

“I want you to do it again… just a different position this time. If that’s alright?” You blinked a few times, “you’re asking if it's alright to sit on my face?” You needed to hear her say it, not just imply it. Mitsuri’s face warmed considerably at your bluntness. “That’s exactly what I’m asking.” Yet she didn’t miss a beat. “Then, yes. Absolutely it’s alright.” There was no point in hiding your eagerness, not when your entire body seemed to throb with the desire to please her… and to please yourself. “Good girl…” the sudden praise sent a shiver through you, hands reaching to find purchase on her thighs as she crawled further up your body. “Real quick before we start… one tap on my thigh signals that you’re doing good when I ask. Two taps means you need to pause… three means you can’t breathe and need me to get up. Simple enough?”

This was a new side of Mitsuri, a side that took charge when Obanai wasn’t in the mix just yet. You loved it. “Yes, that’s simple enough.” You swore you heard Obanai chuckle at your obedience. Then again you couldn’t be annoyed when Mitsuri’s cunt was just inches from your face. “Alright then…” you swallowed again, watching as Mitsuri pushed herself up one last time. Plush thighs caged your head, Mitsuri’s cunt was hovering just above your face now. “Sit… please.” You begged softly, all too eager to feel her soft thighs squeeze your head. Mitsuri chuckled softly but lowered herself down just as you asked. Your tongue darted out immediately, licking fat stripes up her folds until they were slick with your saliva. Your nails dug into the soft plush of her thighs, dragging her down further as you lapped at her entrance.

The angle itself caused your nose to bump her clit every few passes, but created the perfect position to edge her for a while. Soft noises escaped the woman above you, her hips rocking ever so slight against your eager tongue. You drew the first moan from her when you tilted just enough to graze her clit with your tongue. Her warmth was intoxicating, making you feel warm all over as you licked and sucked at her cunt. Tentatively you prodded her entrance, collecting the taste of her arousal on your tongue as her head fell back. “You’re so good at this…” the feeling of her hands threading through your hair sent you into overdrive, tongue moving even quicker against her dripping cunt. The longer you worked on her the more prominent the throb between your own legs became.

“Spread your legs for me, please…” she moaned softly, hand reaching back to tap the flesh of your thigh. You spread them effortlessly and without hesitation, shivering as your cunt was revealed to the cooler air of the room. You were wet, embarrassingly so at this point. After only a few minutes of eating her out, you were dripping and needy. You weren’t quite sure what she was planning, considering she went back to gripping your hair and moaning praises as you worked. You nearly forgot about it after a minute, especially as Mitsuri’s first orgasm hit her at full speed. “O-oh fuck…” she yelped, hips jerking agaisnt your unrelenting tongue until she pulled herself up just a bit. You could catch your breath for a moment before tugging her desperately back down… she wasn’t going to deny you after all.

You tilted your chin upwards again, angling yourself to lick and suck at her already sensitive clit. Her whimpers and moans were all you could hear over the muffling of her thighs caging your head. When you felt something wet and warm on your own cunt, it came as a complete surprise. The noise that left you proved it, Mitsuri’s laughter following. “Don’t worry… it’s just Obanai.” You figured that much but the realization that his tongue was on your pussy was enough to freeze you up for a moment, mind drawing a blank. You tapped twice, shock causing you to need a moment so you could gasp for air. Mitsuri lifted herself, smiling down at you as Obanai’s hands gripped the flesh of your thighs, keeping them spread. “Don’t tell me you can’t handle this…” Obanai’s mouth was hovering your cunt, eyes trailing over your breasts and further up to taken in Mitsuri’s ass and back. “You caught her by surprise.”

Mitsuri spoke for you, rather likely the way your pupils seemed to dilate in response. Obanai made a noise of disinterest before lowering again, tongue slipping between your folds to prod at your clit. A shaky gasp left you, body feeling so warm you swore you’d melt into a puddle. You dragged Mitsuri back down, needing to feel her weight back on you. It was almost comforting in an odd way. You lapped at her cunt the best you could, a wet mess of your saliva and her arousal covered your chin. All the while Obanai was teasing your entrance with one finger, mouth suctioned to your aching clit. He was relentless, just like last time, not giving you any moment to adjust by starting off rough and fast.

You could already feel the familiar tension building, everything was too much, making you too sensitive. The moment he curled that one finger your thighs shook, but it wasn’t enough to push you over the edge. He knew that, which is why he kept doing it. The goosebumps that prickled your skin were a dead giveaway to him. So he didn’t adjust whatsoever, instead he dangled your orgasm right out of your reach. Every thrust of his finger had arousal dripping out of you, wetter and wetter as his saliva covered your cunt. You tried your best to keep up, the awkward angle making it a bit hard to do exactly what you wanted.

So, you tapped her thigh twice. “You okay?” She cooed softly, chest heaving as she had been just seconds away from coming a second time. “Yeah but…” you moaned as Obanai added a second finger, laughing softly at your reaction. “Can you turn around? Sit on my face the other direction.” It would be much easier for you if she could do that. “Oh? Sure…” Mitsuri moved herself around, locking eyes with Obanai as she did. He pulled away from your cunt, mouth and chin shining with your arousal. “Hey pretty.” You sucked in a breath, not used to the tender voice he was using with her.

Mitsuri giggled softly, moving backwards until she was hovering over your face again. Obanai watched, two fingers still knuckle deep and scissoring you open. You dragged Mitsuri down again, lips suction to her clit and sucking. “O-oh!” Mitsuri nearly fell forward, the new intensity bringing her right back to the brink of her second orgasm. “O-Obanai… can I?” His eyes shifted from her face to where your mouth was. After a second he connected the dots. “By all means, pretty.” You had no idea what was going on above and below you, too focused on getting her to cum a second time. Your chest seemed to freeze, breath sucked straight from your lungs as you felt Mitsuri’s body press to yours.

A second later you felt what was undeniably her tongue, not Obanai’s. The realization along with the sensation was almost dizzying. Obanai’s fingers resumed their normal pace as he watched Mitsuri eat you out instead of him. This time there was no edging, no teasing, Mitsuri was determined to bring you over the edge the same time you bought her over it. Which wouldn’t be hard at all considering how worked up you’d been due to Obanai’s stingy attitude. There was something incredibly lewd about the sight before him, maybe it was the sounds… no it was definitely the sounds… that were getting him the most.

Your pussy was squelching with each thrust of his fingers, walls suctioning to them as if you were trying to hold onto him. There were also the noises you were both making, the moans, the sound of wet tongues sliding along each other’s most sensitive parts… he cursed under his breath. His pants were far too tight, even though he had discarded his uniform top his skin was way too warm. He withdrew his fingers a moment later, placing his hand back on your other thigh to keep you spread. Your arousal smeared across your skin where his fingers gripped you, if you weren’t so occupied you would have complained about his withdrawal.

Obanai, however, had other plans. He watched Mitsuri for a moment longer before ducking his own head back down. The love pillar seemed a bit surprised as his head brushed hers, it only took a moment to understand what he was after. The angle was a bit awkward but he managed to fit his face down where Mitsuri couldn’t reach. While she was busy sucking on your clit, Obanai began fucking you with his tongue. Now your mind was really going hazy, your tongue’s eagerness halting all together as you simply forgot how to breathe. It was almost too much, too much warmth, too much stimulation… way too lewd for you to handle when Mitsuri was sitting snugly on your face.

You ached to see it, letting your imagination run wild with the ideas of what the two pillars looked like as they ate you out. Mitsuri took the initiative to begin rocking her hips against you, needing to reach her own release a second time. Especially since it was so close, she couldn’t let you leave her hanging again. Mitsuri’s gasp sent you spiraling, orgasm washing over you so intensely that you couldn’t help but cry out against her cunt as she came with you. After a few seconds, Mitsuri pushed herself off of you, falling to a heap right beside you on the bed. Obanai pulled away, taking the opportunity to stand and begin undoing the belt of his pants.

He looked over both of you, chests heaving as you tried to calm down. “Don’t tell me you’ve both worn yourselves out.” there was a small bit of relief as the restriction of his uniform fell off of him. He wiped his mouth of your arousal, watching as Mitsuri pushed herself up to look down at you. “S-still with us?” You nodded, hands rubbing your face to get rid of the shine. “Y-yeah… fuck.” Mitsuri smiled, different from her others, lazier. It sent your heart into a frenzy. “Do you wanna lay this way instead? It’ll be easier for what I want to do next.” You did as she asked, moving to lay on the bed regularly rather than sprawling across it.

“W-what exactly do you have in mind.” You had come to the conclusion that the two pillars must have discussed things at some point. Given the fact that Obanai wasn’t raising any questions, instead giving Mitsuri full reigns to do as she pleased for the time being. “Don’t worry, you get to relax for this. I’ll be doing all the work.” You let her move your legs, spreading them wide to reveal your cunt again. You watched her curiously, turning her body to hook one of your legs under her own. It took a moment but you quickly realized what she was doing yet again. “I-oh… I see…”

Your hands found purchase in their bedsheets, a terrible attempt at grounding yourself as Mitsuri slotted her cunt against yours. “I heard that this is supposed to be pretty fun.” She commented offhandedly, rocking her hips against yours. It was warm, slick enough that her hips gilded easily. Obanai studied you particularly closely, watching as you angled yourself better to aid Mitsuri. It was a bit addicting, watching the two of you fumble around. He would gladly let Mitsuri try all of the things she didn’t get to last time, but there was only so long he could wait before needing to put you back in your place.

The throbbing was only getting worse, but Obanai was a man of patience, he could resist his own temptation in order to really take it out on you. He’d never admit it to your face, but he’d been thinking about you just as often as Mitsuri had been. He was eagerly waiting for you to come crawling back, begging for more, just as Mitsuri hoped you would. Though she worded it far nicer than he ever could.

“Do you think she’s alright…” Mitsuri sighed, clinging to Obanai’s arm a moment later as you finally disappeared from their sight. “She’s fine, she’ll likely walk off the limp by the end of the day.” The dissatisfied sigh that left the woman beside him was enough for him to know that’s not what she meant. “You were really rough on her, I’ve never seen you act like that in the bedroom.” Obanai knew that was coming, though for the first time in a long time he didn’t feel like explaining himself on the matter.

“If she didn’t like it, she would have asked me to stop.” Silence fell between the two as they stood in the doorway of their estate. He really wished you hadn’t run off so quickly, there were far too many questions that they wanted answers to. “Should I go visit her tomorrow?” Obanai shook his head, taking a step back and pulling Mitsuri along with him as they entered their estate once more. “Leave her be for now. If she wants to, she’ll come back when she’s ready.” Mitsuri didn’t seem satisfied with that answer but decided to leave it alone.

“Mitsuri, you’ll have us here for hours at this rate.” Obanai was moving onto the bed, you realized that at some point he had discarded all of his clothing. You’d been much too busy with Mitsuri to even notice. “B-but… it’s so…” she huffed, the tingling remnants of an orgasm hovering just out of her reach. “It’s frustrating, that’s what it is.” He was moving behind her, hands trailing up her sides. “See, you’re even breaking a sweat, pretty girl.” His tone was enough to make you look away, for some reason it felt more intimate than the position you and Mitsuri were in.

“I-I’m so… close just give us a minute.” Mitsuri’s hips swiveled against yours quicker, whining softly as Obanai’s hands made it to her breasts. You glanced at her again, one hand reaching forward in hopes of her coming closer. She caught on, breaking away from her boyfriend to crash her lips to yours. For a moment, Obanai was reminded of the fact that this was likely still a competition in your eyes. Essentially being ignored for this long was finally getting on his nerves. He was more than willing to let Mitsuri have her fun, but your sly little tricks to keep Mitsuri away from him… he was at his wits end. “You’re not as subtle as you think.” You knew it was directed at you, that alone had you smiling into her hungry kiss.

Obanai clicked his tongue, moving to pull Mitsuri back towards him. “C’mon now, you’ve had your fun…” he cooed as she gasped, her third orgasm of the night hitting her as she fell into him. You were dazed, Obanai had pulled her away just before you were able to cum. “Remember what we talked about?” You watched them intently, pushing yourself up into a sitting position with your legs still tangled in her’s. “I-I Sorta do.” Obanai chuckled, motioning for Mitsuri to sit up by the pillows. “You’ll remember better in a minute.” He let her go, watching as she untangled herself from you.

With Mitsuri out of the way, you were left on full display for Obanai. Nothing was separating him from you now, especially as Mitsuri settled just behind you on the mattress. “I’d like to think that we’ve been lingering in your mind.” the comment had scrunching your nose, not quite seeing where he was taking this. “Tell me, have you touched yourself thinking about us?” your legs immediately wanted to snap shut as his eyes dragged over your glistening cunt. “I haven’t actually… couldn’t satisfy myself in the way you both did.” It tumbled past your lips despite your body’s natural reaction to shrink away.

Obanai seemed pleased with that answer, hand wrapping around the base of his neglected cock, finally giving it a small bit of attention. “Hmm? That’s just what I wanted to hear.” he chuckled softly, breathier than normal as he stroked himself slowly. “How pathetic you must have looked…felt…nothing but your fingers and it still did nothing for you.” He ruined you, so did Mitsuri. If you had the capacity to think of anything outside of the two of them at this given moment… You’d be wondering how you’d go on with your life after this came to an end. “Probably sounded pathetic too…” you weren’t sure what made you want to feed into his narrative, but the red coating his cheeks as he spoke to you made you want to see him crumble.

“Hmm? Why’s that?” Mitsuri spoke for you, hands coming up to run through your disheveled hair with her eyes locked on Obanai’s fist. “Couldn’t stop whining… it was frustrating you know… kept thinking about the two of you…” Obanai inhaled sharply, torn between wanting to put you in your place and ease your previous frustrations. Though he couldn’t understand why he was even torn in the first place… that was a thought for later. “Oh? I’d that’s the case why don’t you tell me how badly you want this.” He motioned to his cock, head tilting and eager to hear what you would say.

“Haven’t I given you enough? Or would you rather I fuck your girlfriend again to prove it?” Mitsuri suppressed a giggle, shifting herself so your head was in her lap. Leaning her weight on her free hand, she continued to stroke your hair. Obanai huffed out a humorless laugh, “You’re still a fucking pain.” You yelped as he suddenly grabbed your ankles, holding them as tightly. “Mitsuri, remember now?” Obanai’s tone changed as he spoke to her, purposely ignoring your wide eyes. “Yeah, I believe I do.” Her fingers left your hair, trailing down to your arm and stopping when she reached your wrist.

You glanced up at her, watching as she found herself a new position and reached for your other wrist. Now, she sat behind you, head on her lap and legs tucked neatly underneath herself. She brought your wrists together slowly, holding them in a gentle grip that you knew you wouldn’t be able to escape from even if you wanted to. “Good job.” Obanai cooed as he moved closer, shifting his grip from your ankles to your calves as he pushed your legs towards your chest. “Mitsuri wanted me to take it easier on you this time around, she’d like me to be gentle with you…” now, he fully pressed your legs to your chest, forcing you into an awkward position, one you couldn’t move from. “I told her no.”

You swallowed, being completely restrained sent a chill down your spine, the second orgasm you’d been denied of only moments prior was prickling your skin. That familiar throb returned, aching so deeply it was as if you never came in the first place. Obanai angled himself, pressing the dull head of his cock to your weeping entrance, no assistance needed. “You don’t mind, right? You like when I use you like a fuck toy… it’s why you came back, yeah?” You would say or agree to anything in that moment, especially with the way he was shallowly thrusting against you, teasing you by not entering at all.

“C’mon…I won’t do anything till you tell me I’m right…” he pressed his hips forward, the head of his cock splitting you open. You inhaled sharply, hands flexing in Mitsuri’s grasp as you sought for something to ground you. “Y-yes… fuck you… seriously… but yes. Use me… please just fucking—“ Obanai cut you off, pressing his hips forward and bottoming out immediately, watching intently as you squealed and squirmed from the sudden intrusion. Your eyes had squeezed shut, lips trembling as you tried to steady your breathing. You were wet enough that bottoming out within a second hadn’t hurt but the stretch had certainly taken your breath away.

“Ah, Obanai…” Mitsuri’s brows were creased with worry, easily switching both of your wrists to one hand so she could caress your cheek with the other. “She can take it.” He spoke through gritted teeth, heart thumping wildly as your walls spasmed and suctioned to him. Maybe he had neglected himself a little too much during you and Mitsuri’s foreplay. He could feel himself throbbing, threatening already to spill a load deep inside of you. It pissed him off to no end, especially since he had no intentions of cumming in you. He still didn’t think you were quite ready for that yet, he still didn’t think you deserved it. “Can you?” Mitsuri’s question caught both of you off guard, your eyes flying wide to stare up at Mitsuri before moving to stare at Obanai who was hovering over you.

“Oh? You’re picking up on her sharp tongue, aren’t you, pretty girl.” Obanai chuckled, though you could tell it was a bit strained. He hadn’t moved yet, the grip on your legs would likely leave bruises. It thrilled you. Mitsuri sighed, thumb still rubbing along your cheek as she gripped your wrists together. “Just seems like you’re trying not to cum, Obanai.” You didn’t think she had it in her, her voice had taken on a sultry undertone, different from the breathy whines she bestowed upon you. “Watch it…” he gritted out, face bright red as his eyes squeezed shut.

He hadn’t expected Mitsuri to defend you… though he couldn’t say that he didn’t enjoy seeing her do so. “Well? Is her pussy that good?” You swore you were dreaming, that’s what it is, you were dreaming right? You never would have thought Mitsuri was capable of talking in such a way. Obanai seemed a bit hesitant, as if she were testing him by asking. “I’m serious, it’s not like I have the ability to feel it the way you do…” it clicked, she was a bit envious. “I mean I know how good it feels from the outside… but inside… ahh I wish I could know! Tell me please, Obanai.”

For a moment your eyes locked, you and Obanai sharing the same look of disbelief as Mitsuri rambled on. It took him a moment to collect himself, he had gotten passed the point of nearly coming but now he needed to wrap his brain around everything Mitsuri had said. “I…uhm…good… it feels good.” He swallowed, looking up at Mitsuri through his lashes. “Ah that’s not good enough! Describe it to me…” she whined softly, the feeling making your entire body squirm. You needed him to move, if not you were convinced you’d lose your mind being stuffed so full while listening to them speak in such a way about you.

“It’s…shit… it’s warm…” it was a slow start, just as slow as he dragged his hips backwards before pushing in again. The fraction of a movement, barely there but enough to have you gritting your teeth. “C’mon Obanai… you can do better than that…” Mitsuri sighed “you could also do better if you moved.” She had a disappointing tone, as if upset Obanai wasn’t doing as she asked of him. That seemed to be enough to jumpstart his brain…and his hips… as he gasped. Legs still pressed to your chest, he used them for leverage as he pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back into you.

A loud, shaking moan slipped past your lips as he repeated the process, pistoning his hips until you couldn’t see straight. “I’m waiting…” she mewled softly, watching your face contorted in pleasure while Obanai seemed to be biting his tongue. “It’s…” he groaned as your walls suctioned and spasmed around him, your cunt was good, too good even, and it irked him to no end. Admitting that out loud just may kill him, but disappointing Mitsuri seemed like a far worse fate to face. “It’s good…fuck it’s so wet.”

You inhaled sharply, skin prickling with sweat as he spoke. Your pain was fully outweighed by the pleasure, though you were certain your body would be sore after. “It’s tight too, hot and wet and tight…soft…” his hips stuttered as he lost control over his words, taking only a moment before he found his rhythm again. “And it’s still undeserving of my cock.” He gritted out, looking you in the eye now without any embarrassment. “It’s the pussy of a little fucking whore.” The smile was strained, but it sent a shrill of arousal through your entire body, walls fluttering uncontrollably.

“Oh…” she cooed softly, urging him to keep going as your moans turned to cries. Tears burned your eyes, clit throbbing and neglected as he continued to pound into you. You couldn’t even figure out where the tears had come from, but that didn’t matter one bit. Not when Obanai’s pupils seemed to drown out the color of his eyes, completely enthralled by the wet streams running towards your temples. He wanted to see them streak your face, the same way they did when he shoved his cock so far down your throat… “What a little whore… mad that I won’t make you my cum dumpster?”

He chuckled, hips meeting your body particularly hard, dragging an unrestrained yelp from you. “Answer me or I won’t move.” Mitsuri was quietly hypnotized by the scene playing out right before her, cunt throbbing with needy desire. She couldn’t tell who she wanted to be more… Obanai was never this rough with her but she’d give anything to experience you the way he was right now.

“Obanai…” you whined softly, his own name coming from your lips caught him by surprise. “Please…” you didn’t even know what you were asking for, uttering the words in hope that he’d somehow decipher it. “Obanai… kiss her.” Mitsuri instructed softly, the tears leaking from your eyes never slowed. Obanai stopped for a minute, teasing you by only leaving half of his length inside.

“Kiss her? Why should I do that?” He hadn’t kissed you ever, not last time and you assumed he wouldn’t this time. “Because I want you to… I’m sure she wants you to… you want to.” Mitsuri’s face was flushed, pupils dilated and eyes filled with need. Obanai couldn’t say no when she looked like that. You watched him, chest heaving as you sniffled, waiting for him to act. Obanai shifted more of his weight onto you, hands gripping your legs so intensely you were certain there would be bruises for a while. His hips pushed into you again, just as his lips crashed to yours. It was sloppy, a mess of teeth and tongue.

You cried into the kiss, the new closeness allowed you the tiniest bit of friction for your aching clit. Each thrust had his hips slapping into yours, abdomen pressing to your lower half just as tightly. Obanai seemed to lose himself a bit, kissing you so deeply you forgot how to breathe. He parted a moment later, head ducking to bury itself in your neck as he bit down on the sensitive skin. You yelped, body flinching as his teeth threatened to break your skin. “There…” he pulled away, admiring the deep indents of his teeth.

Mitsuri watched as your lips met his again, the bed shaking with the force of his thrusts. She had to wonder how he was holding up so well, considering he was seconds away from falling apart after entering you. Though, maybe that offhand thought had jinxed him. Obanai’s thrusts turned sloppy, he was convinced he could last long enough to pull out of you right when the timing was right. It wouldn’t be that hard, he’s done it before.

Yet you continued to prove him wrong, walls tightening like a vice around his cock, pulling his orgasm straight through him. He gasped into your mouth, pure shock as he dragged his hips out of you, spurting the rest of his release on your cunt. Though, it had been too late, some of his cum had been released deep inside of you. His face was bright red, a look of shock on all three of your faces as his lips parted from yours. The room was quiet save for your ragged breathing, you couldn’t quite believe that he had messed up. Though it drew a cocky smile up your tired face, “I-I thought you weren’t gonna give me your cum… thought I wasn’t good enough…” you glanced up a Mitsuri, her eyes locked on your cum covered cunt.

Obanai couldn’t meet your eyes for a moment, he too was watching his own release slip out of your fluttering hole. “Mitsuri…” his voice was low, the grip on your legs finally loosening enough for you to relax them a bit. “Hmm?” She was hiding a smile, wishing he would have dumped the whole load in. “You’re going to fix this.” He moved away from you entirely, dick still twitching with need despite coming. “Fix it?” She let go of your wrists, watching as you managed to stretch while keeping your legs spread in order to not smear his cum. “Yes, you’re going to clean her up… with your mouth.” Obanai had made enough room for Mitsuri to take his place, hand wrapping around his cock tightly.

“And you’re going to make up for it.” You watched him motion towards his cock before meeting her eyes again. “You caused this, after all.” You blinked, watching Mitsuri move without hesitation, settling below you on her stomach, ass in the air for him. “H-how’d Mitsuri cause this?” You yelped as the pink haired woman dragged her nails over your thighs, hands kneading the squishy flesh before dragging you closer. “Doesn’t matter, but seeing that she’s complying so easily, she knows I’m right.” Mitsuri only chuckled, tongue licking up your thigh. You couldn’t complain, not when you still felt a cocky sense of pride over what happened.

Instead of cleaning you up like he instructed, Mitsuri used two fingers to collect the rest of his release. You gasped as she plunged both fingers inside, forcing more of his cum in you. Obanai watched with parted lips, hand coming to knead the flesh of Mitsuri’s ass before lining his cock up with her entrance. “She really is rubbing off on you, you’re usually so obedient.” Mitsuri hummed before moving her mouth to hover over your clit, looking at you with a small smile. “I’ve come to see why y/n finds it so fun to mess with you… you’re pretty hot when you’re mad and embarrassed.” Her mouth met your clit a moment later, tongue lapping at it.

Obanai scoffed, rosy blush on his cheeks as he pressed his hips forward. Even when mad, he still managed to take things easy on her. At least… easier than he did with you. Mitsuri’s stuttering breath had your head tilting back, the orgasm that had been dangled out of your reach that whole time was now in your grasp. Sloppy and uneven thrusts forced Mitsuri’s mouth against your cunt in various amounts of pressure. The tension in your gut building with each struggling suck and lick as Obanai’s hips met her ass with each thrust. “Gonna cum again?” He was seething, yet perfectly able to control himself when it came to Mitsuri.

“Fuck…yes…” you slurred out, walls twitching around her fingers as she messily plunged them in and out of you. You came crashing down around her, a loud breathless moan escaping your lips as your body arched off the mattress. Mitsuri whined, losing balance as your body moved away from her. Obanai watched both of you in fascination, yet he was not willing to let himself get distracted like he did before. That’s why he blamed Mitsuri, asking him to kiss you had fully thrown him off. He had become so engulfed in you that he didn’t even recognize the warning signs until he was already diving head first off of the cliff.

His hips moved in a hasty rhythm, the flesh of Mitsuri’s ass rippling each time he moved forward. It was addicting, just as addicting as to it fucked out expression as you tried to sit yourself up. “Don’t run off now…hah…I’m not done yet.” Obanai fixed you in place with a hard glare, your eyes immediately shifting down to the mumbling and drooling mess below you. Mitsuri was on the brink of another orgasm, at this point she had lost count of how many she had. The only thought ringing through her mind was how well both of you treated her. “Y/n… Obanai…” you it names left her in a struggling mantra, drunk off of both of your bodies.

“Come for me, pretty girl… I know you want to.” Sweat was dripping down his temple, abdomen going taut as he tried to hold himself back. He had other plans in mind, he refused to come until he was able to achieve them. You, on the other hand, moved forward, body feeling like gelatin as you moved towards him. Obanai’s eyebrow cocked, watching as you struggled to move to the opposite end of Mitsuri. You nearly collapsed into him, watching as the pink haired woman squashed her cheek into the mattress, no longer able to support herself.

“Here…come for us please…” your hand snaked lower, finding her clit and rubbing it quickly. Overstimulation nearly overpowered her pleasure as a high pitched shriek left her, her final orgasm ripping through her body as a gush of warm liquid splattered Obanai, your hand and the sheets below. “Holy shit…” you croaked as she fell limply against the mattress, pulling Obanai out of her in the process. “Fucking filthy…” Obanai sneered, as he looked at you. “Get on your knees.” He ordered a moment later, cock wet and shining from Mitsuri’s release.

You nearly fell off of the bed, knees hitting the wooden floor unceremoniously. You knew what was coming next, it sent a shrill of arousal through you as he got off of the bed with you. “Open your mouth… though from the looks of it you know what’s coming, don’t you? You little whore.” Your mouth parted, tongue sticking out as he grabbed your cheeks with his free hand. As excited as you were, you still clinched when a glob of his spit landed on your tongue. “Be a good little whore and swallow like you did last time.” You did, mouth shutting and reopening a moment later.

“Atta girl…” the praise nearly had you melting. Mitsuri watched from the mattress, too worn out to even lift her head, never mind moving to help you. Obanai, as ruthless as ever, shoved his cock down your throat in a similar fashion to last time. You choked, embarrassingly loud as tears burned your eyes again. He hit the back of your throat, hand grabbing a fistful of your hair to drag you along his length. The taste of bitter precum mixed with Mitsuri’s release, the force of his tugging making you see stars. Your hands scrambled to find his legs, nails scratching the delicate skin of his thighs as you tried to steady your breathing.

Your nose brushed his pubic bone, body tensing as he held you in place. You looked upwards through wet lashes, watching a smirk creep up his face. The scars on his cheeks only lengthened it, he reminded you of a snake. You had the urge to call him beautiful again, though it would be quite difficult to do so at the moment. You forced your jaw to relax, seeing that he had no intentions of pulling out just yet. “You’re such an addictive pain in the ass… I mean really.” He pulled your hair a little tighter, watching as tears slipped down your cheeks. Sick satisfaction bubbled in his gut as your eyes turned glossy.

He let you go a moment later, allowing you a second to breathe properly before shoving himself back down. “I’ve never met someone so infuriating…ha…yet so fucking intoxicating. To the point I actually miss your presence.” You made a noise of surprise, watching his head fall back as your throat vibrated. “T-that shocks you hmm? I figured it would…shit…ya know I’m really trying, Mitsuri.” His eyes shot over to her, her eyes lidded with sleep as she watched. “She was so persistent about me being nicer to you… easier…” his hips began thrusting back and forth, building in tempo slowly.

“I think you can take it though, I think you enjoy being used as a fuck toy.” He slammed his hips down, earning another harsh gag from you as drool dripped down your chin. Your tongue lathered the underside of his cock, throat constricting as you swallowed the best you could around him. It didn’t help the saliva running down your chin and neck, dribbling onto your chest as Obanai had his way with you. “Cmon now…” his hand hit your cheek a couple times, pulling your attention back to him. “You enjoy it, don’t you?” this time you hummed something similar to a yes, throat vibrating around him once again. He was going to cum, he knew he was, but he was torn.

Come down your throat or see how pathetic you look with your face covered in it. He was already familiar with the satisfaction that came with the ladder, seeing your face covered was all too appealing. Not willing to fuck up again, the hand in your hair tightened to keep you in place as he retreated from your mouth all together. “Be a good little bitch and keep your mouth open…tongue out.” You watched with blurry vision as he pumped himself with his free hand. Your saliva clung to him, allowing his fist to glide rapidly. “You got lucky.. Lucky that Mitsuri distracted me. This time…fuck… this time it’s my way.”

It took a few more pumps for Obanai to spill himself all over your face. Sticky white painted your mouth, chin, chest and even your cheeks. Eyes squeezing shut in fear of getting it where you’d prefer you didn’t. The sight itself was nothing short of filthy, paired with the shaking whines of the man fisting your hair, it was enough to make Mitsuri squirm, head turning to look away. Obanai let go once his orgasm had died down, nothing but labored breathing filled the room as you tried to collect your wits. “Are you alright?” Obanai’s voice was quiet, face flushed and sweaty as he dropped down to your level. You swallowed, “Y..yeah…a wet cloth would be nice though…”

“Of course… get on the bed and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be back.” Mitsuri was pushing herself up, scooting to lay her head on one of the pillows. “Ahh y/n-chan, come lay beside me. You’re not running away from us again.” You pushed yourself up as Obanai disappeared from the room, making your way over to the bed and nearly collapsing onto the sheets. The only thing stopping you was the fear of making a mess… granted the sheets already needed to be changed due to Mitsuri. “Run away? I slept here last time too.” You chuckled softly as she rolled over. “Yes, but you still ran away the morning after. You’re not allowed to do that this time!”

“That so? How come.” you teased softly, trying to ignore the fluttering in your chest. “We have a lot to discuss, but I’m far too tired… you are too.” You opened your mouth but no words came out, “Mitsuri, you’re doing it again. You make it seem like we’re going to execute her or something. Don’t fill her head with useless worries or she’ll never fall asleep.” Obanai entered the room, wet cloth and new sheets in hand. He had also taken the time to throw on a kimono, as if trying to be modest after what you had just done. You let him clean your face, hands gentle as he wiped away his mess. It was probably the gentlest he’d ever touched you.

“Sorry…I guess that’s true.” Mitsuri slurred, already falling asleep. “G’night Mitsuri.” you laughed softly, eyes glancing over Obanai’s face. “We’ll change the bedding in the morning. You can bathe then as well, we have clothing you’d like if you’d allow us to wash the clothing you came in.” He was motioning you backwards, pulling a pillow to place under your head. “Oh… thank you…I don’t mean to be a nuisance.” he scoffed, shouldering off the clothing he had put on once again. “Stop saying things like that. We want you here, y/n.” You snorted, “You’ve called me a pain multiple times.” He climbed in beside you, the gentle snores signaling that Mitsuri had fallen asleep already.

“That’s because you are. But that’s not a bad thing… I assume you see me as a pain as well.” He sighed, settling comfortably on his back. “Oh absolutely… you’re just a bit insufferable… though I can’t say you don’t fuck me good.” You hummed, ignoring the burn in your cheeks as you shifted onto your side, back facing him. “Glad we’re on the same page… now get some sleep. Mitsuri and I have some things to talk about in the morning with you… so don’t try and run off like last time.” You huffed softly, muttering out a soft “fine” as sleep tugged at you. You could sleep easier when they were with you, warmth on each side, lulling you to sleep.

The third and final part of this little series will be I Always Do It Better

I plan on working on it and posting it hopefully some time this summer… definitely don’t intend on making y’all wait over a year again lmfao. I hope you enjoyed this part!! - May

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drabblesandimagines · 13 days

Text

Nettle Soup

Halsin x female reader 5,776 words of fluffy nonsense

It had started as an innocent tickle at the very back of your throat, something you’d barely given more than a moment’s thought to - fair enough due to the fact you had a tadpole squirming around in your skull to contend with. A day or so later, it had graduated from a tickle to an annoying and stubborn irritation which very much demanded attention – wouldn’t shift despite how many times you’d tried.

It would clear, surely, you thought, especially since the curse had lifted from the land and you were on your way towards Baldur’s Gate at last.

Except it didn’t.

If anything, it got worse - like you’d swallowed handfuls of crushed glass, the way it stung with every swallow – accompanied by heavy limbs and growing fatigue, no matter how much sleep you managed. Perhaps that was hardly surprising after the number of fights you’d undertaken recently, not quite as young as you once were.

Although not comfortable with the hitchhiker in your skull, you were at least confident it wasn’t the first sign of ceremorphosis, though the concern that Lae’zel may try to slit your throat if you voiced any notion of feeling unwell remained, so you kept silent.

You powered on, as you always do.

Gale frowned when you didn’t finish your portion of stew that evening, all sat around the campfire. He prided himself on keeping the party well-fed and anything but clean bowls appeared to be a personal affront to his skill. It wasn’t that you felt nauseous, just a lack of appetite made the quarter you had managed sit too heavy in your stomach.

“Was it not to your liking?” The wizard hovers over your shoulder. “While I’ll admit it is a repeated recipe from a few days ago, you enjoyed it well enough then.”

“No, no, it’s wonderful, Gale.” You smile, trying to appease his anxieties by laying a hand on your stomach. “It’s just filling – I’m stuffed already.”

“I recall you had second helpings.”

Oh, he had you there. Think.

“We had just fought Ketheric Thorn too, quite difference from the day’s leisurely pace.”

“Hm.” His pout remains, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach has been joined by guilt.

“Hardly a repeated recipe, though. I’m sure I noted something different on the palate?”

That did the trick, a wistful smile now gracing his face. “Ah, yes, I did stumble upon some splendid wild garlic that I thought would enhance the flavour profile – how kind of you to notice.”

You nod along, politely, as Gale tells his tale – something about how it elevates the spices - not noticing the wood elf staring at you curiously from across the circle.

You’re thankful it’s not your turn to keep watch as the githyanki takes her place in the centre of the camp, sword laying ready in her lap. You don’t wish to dawdle around the campfire like you do most nights, worried she might sense something off about you and jump to conclusions, so you bid the remaining members of the party goodnight and walk at a brisk pace to the safety of your tent…

..only for an icy cold grip around your elbow to jerk you into their own, your back now pressed against a firm chest with a thud.

“Surprised, darling?” Astarion murmurs into your crown, his other arm wrapped around your waist. “I thought you better than that. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“Bed.” You reply as brightly as possible, overcompensating for how rotten you’re now feeling.

“Oh, but the evening is still so young! I have a fine idea that will while away the hours, if you would be so very kind.” He drops his grip on your elbow and ghosts his hand up your side, making you squirm.

“Not tonight, Astarion.” You shake your head. Maybe it had been a mistake to let him feed off you after that first night. “I’m tired.”

“I can wait until you’re asleep, my sweet.” His hand finally reaches the back of your neck, giving it a slight squeeze. “I’ll be sure not to disturb any of your pretty dreams.”

“No.” Your tone is firm, maybe a little too firm as the vampire stiffens against you and drops his hand, causing your stomach to squirm with guilt once again. “Another night, I’m all yours – I promise.”

Astarion spins you around and you nearly lose your footing – a fact not missed by the vampire as his face transforms from annoyance at your denial to mild concern.

“My, you are out of sorts.” He sighs, before he plasters on a smile that you know to be fake. “Very well, darling. Off to bed you pop.”

You nod a thanks and hurry out of his tent, casting your eyes to the ground in the hopes of keeping steadier footing, only to collide into something firm.

A large, solid chest, covered in familiar druidic garb.

“My sincere apologies,” two warm hands grasp your upper arms, steadying you once again. “I am afraid I did not see you there. Are you all right?”

Your scalp tingles from the gravelly tones of Halsin’s voice, a warmth flushing over your cheeks as you look up at the former archdruid, his brow furrowed in concern.

“I’m fine, Halsin. And I should be the one apologizing - I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

He chuckles at your concern. “Of course. Although you have remained polite by not yet mentioning my stature, I am sure you have noticed the comparison between us, little one.”

Although one to lose your temper with the use of such pet names in inns or in combat, there is something entirely different when Halsin says it. You know it is not meant to be patronizing, more a sign of his age, really – it’s wholeheartedly sincere, affectionate, perhaps even… loving? Well, you could still dream, couldn’t you? Even though he’d kindly turned you down at the celebration for the tieflings at camp all those weeks ago, you’d be a liar if you didn’t still kindle a flame of affection for the large elf. You smile, wryly. “I suppose I have.”

“Forgive me for prying, but is anything the matter? You seemed in quite the hurry after supper. I confess I’d hoped to catch you for a moment.”

Your throat stings again as you swallow. Halsin is a healer - he would be the one to mention it to…

But you don’t want to be a bother, especially so soon after Thaniel. What was a sore throat in comparison to being trapped within the Shadowrealm for near on a century? Pathetic, really.

You shrug it off, “A little tired, nothing an early night won’t sort. What did you wish to speak about?”

He smiles at your response, though you notice it doesn’t reach his eyes. You wish you weren’t so observant of him to be able to identify which are real and which are polite.

“Ah, no, nothing of urgency. Please, do not let me keep you from your well-deserved rest any longer.”

You eye your tent in the distance, but hesitate all the same. “Are you sure?”

“Quite.” He squeezes your upper arms, gently, before letting go. “I bid you sweet dreams and a peaceful sleep.”

You don’t even fall asleep deeply enough to dream – tossing and turning for hours, one moment feeling too hot and then another too cold, periodically drinking from your waterskin trying to ease the rawness of your throat.

You give up at dawn, quickly dressing in your armor. Instead of waiting for your companions to rise, you set your sight on climbing the hill not far off from camp - it should provide a good vista of the road ahead to Baldur’s Gate. It shouldn’t be a long walk either, you’ll be there and back before even Karlach has roused, usually the last to do so.

You had only made it a quarter of the way up the admittedly gentle incline when you start to feel unusually winded from the exercise – it feels as if you are not quite breathing deep enough, oxygen stagnating at the top of your lungs. Perhaps you’d laced your armour too tight that morning in your haste to get moving? The sun is still only a little over the horizon, given the earliness of the hour, but you feel so very warm, a sheen of sweat already on your brow.

You raise a weary hand to wipe it away, but your vision swims in response and you stumble, all reflexes abandoning you and your face meets the dirt.

Halsin lets out a sigh as he rubs his back against the bark in his bear form, the ridges appeasing an itch that had been bothering him since he had wildshaped. It has been a while since he’d indulged the bear for purely pleasure and not combat – it hadn’t felt right to do so when traveling through the shadow cursed lands.

He’d woken early, as usual, and decided to take advantage of an hour or so to patrol the area before the plan would be to head towards Baldur’s Gate. Heading to the city wasn’t something he was looking forward to – to be cut off from the nature he so adored made he feel uneasy - but he’d made a vow that he intended to keep.

A familiar, invigorating smell crosses his snout, carried in the gentle breeze. He inhales it deeply, being drawn him from his thoughts.

White violet, jasmine, a touch of sandalwood…

You.

It is too strong a scent to have drifted in from camp, which must mean you’re close by. He drops down to all four paws and begins to follow the trail, curious as to what has brought you out so early and, perhaps selfishly, hoping to take advantage of your company.

He doesn’t have to travel far, though, lumbering a hundred or so metres out of the wood that lines the path. His stomach sinks when he sees you sprawled out on your front down the incline, unmoving, eyes open in a blank stare in his direction.

The next thing you were aware of was thundering paws on the earth, a flash of gold and then warm, heavy palms turning you over to face the dawn sky. A very concerned wood elf soon fills your vision, pressing a hand to your cheek as his eyes scan you over, frantically.

“What is it, my heart? Speak to me.” Heart…? The world goes black.

You wake up slowly. Your eyelids feel heavy, drifting in and out of consciousness until, finally, you manage to crack both eyes open to find yourself swaddled in unfamiliar furs and blinking up at an equally unfamiliar ceiling.

No, not ceiling, but the inside of a tent and one that is not your own. Various herbs and flowers are hung from the support pole across the top, seemingly set out to dry, dotted between other hand-made trinkets. There’s a scent of wood smoke, flowers, freshly cut grass, and something enticingly sweet...

You sit up in alarm, trying to work out where you are, panic rising in your already tight chest when your eyes meet those of the large wood elf’s, sat only a little way to the side of the bed roll.

“Ah-ah,” Halsin chides with a sympathetic smile, pushing you back down easily with one large palm upon your shoulder. “Please - you must rest.”

“This isn’t my tent.” Your voice is painfully hoarse, but you lay your head back on the pillow in defeat and watch as he tugs the furs back up to under your chin - the brief moment you had been upright a chill had prickled across your skin, almost down to your very bones.

“That is true.” The former archdruid nods, looking a little bashful. “We were camped at quite opposite ends this time round.” Your party did tend to spread the tents out across the ground you used, rather than all cluster together. “I thought it best to bring you here, where I have everything to hand to easily prepare, rather than go to and fro whilst I oversee your recovery.”

“Recov-” You don’t reach the end of the word as a horrendous, wracking cough emerges deep within your chest. You sit up again in panic, hoping it will cease. Halsin assists you with one hand on your arm and an arm around your waist, before he begins to rub large circles on your upper back.

“Easy, little one. Easy. I know it is uncomfortable, but it will pass.” He says, softly. It doesn’t feel like it will – the pain is sharp, a tightness in your chest, a burn in your lungs, heart pounding as you feel more and more breathless with every cough.

Tears burn at your eyes but, true to his word, slowly but surely, it begins to settle, allowing you to catch your breath at last and left feeling exhausted.

The hand leaves your arm then but one remains on your back, keeping you steady, before a waterskin is brought up to your lips. “Take small sips. If you drink too quickly, it might trigger another fit.”

You nod, reaching up a hand to hold over his as he tips the liquid into your mouth. It’s soothing on your raw throat, but only for a brief moment. When he deems you’ve had enough, he pulls the waterskin away, placing it back down to the side of the bedroll before pressing a hand to your forehead, a poorly concealed frown soon gracing his lips.

“You have a fairly high fever.”

“Can’t you…?” You reach out to mimic cure wounds – a spell you’ve seen him and Shadowheart cast many a time - but it seems even your depth perception has abandoned you as you brush up against the wood elf's firm chest, before snatching your hand back and circling your wrist in what you think looks a somewhat magical motion. Halsin lets out a chuckle that makes you feel flush – your temperature varying sporadically by the minute.

“Wounds and other injuries indeed, as can Shadowheart, but I am afraid for such illnesses as this the only treatment is rest for a few days, supplemented by herbal remedies to alleviate symptoms.”

“No,” you shake your head and immediately regret how it makes your vision and head swim. “We must press on - the Absolute are already in the city.”

He looks at you in alarm. “You cannot mean you wish to go and face them? You know I admire your unwavering resolve and strength to do what is right, but at the moment I fear a light breeze would be more than enough to knock you prone.”

“But-”

“No. I cannot allow it.” His tone is firm, a growl at the back of his throat – it reminds you of how he had spoken to Kagha once he’d returned to the grove. "You will rest. Lie down,” he doesn’t even need to push you back this time with a heavy hand, you’ve gone quite limp against the arm that had been supporting you, shrinking back at his tone of voice and nestle back down amongst the furs.

“Thank you.” Halsin replies, sincerely, the tension dropping both from his shoulders and voice. “I… I apologise for my manner of speaking, but I know of what I speak - you must rest in order to make a full recovery.”

“I’ll try – I promise.”

He looks down at you with a smile before brushing some loose hair from your face and then cupping your cheek with a large palm and calloused fingers. If you’d had more of your wits about you, if you could think clearly, you would’ve noticed the flash of gold in his palm as he cast sleep upon you.

You wake up to a hand pressing a damp cold compress against your forehead and your chest feeling tighter than before. You can’t help the wince as you open your eyes, the light smarting despite it being somewhat dim inside the tent. Halsin is sat cross-legged by your side, a frown in place.

“I am sorry to have woken you, but I am afraid your fever has developed.”

“Oh.”

“I have prepared something that will help. Allow me to sit you up.” Somehow, he manages to slip his arm beneath your head and around your shoulders, assisting you upright to lean back against a pile of firm pillows. Once he is satisfied you are settled, he produces a bowl from his side – a waft of steam emitting off the top.

“Here. It has cooled enough to drink.”

“What is it?” Your voice is still awfully hoarse, a raw sting as you talk.

“A staple in every healer’s repertoire - nettle soup. Adept at reducing fevers.”

You take the bowl carefully from his hand, though his follows closely as you guide it up to your mouth lest your grip fail.

You gulp down a mouthful, but it’s absolutely foul upon your tongue, burns your throat as you swallow it down. It feels as if you’ve taken a gulp out of a particularly filthy pond, one thick with algae.

You hold the bowl back out with a shake of your head, hoping he’ll take it. “That’s disgusting.”

Halsin smiles, knowingly – seemingly a complaint he is not all that unfamiliar with hearing. “Whilst I admit the taste is far from what one might call pleasant, it will do you a world of good to drink it.”

You shake your head again, trying to hand it back to him. “I can’t.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. “Dare I enquire your age again, little one? The children in the grove manage it just fine.”

“I’m not a child,” you pout – too feverish to realise the contradiction of your actions. “And they surely do not.”

“They do…”, he retorts, a wistful smile crosses his lips, “albeit with the promise of something sweet after they’ve rested. Would that suffice?”

“Something… sweet?” Your mind drifts off to somewhere it should not as your eyes drop down to focus on the druid’s mouth.

“Mm. They are quite partial to honeycakes, does that appeal?”

You shake your head, placing the bowl down on the floor between the two of you. Though a fan of sweets, the idea of eating anything at the moment doesn’t entice at all.

“No? Well, perhaps you have something else in mind. I’m sure Baldur’s Gate itself will have something to your tastes.”

“I want a kiss.” You mumble.

He must have misheard. “What was that?”

“A kiss - that’s the sweet thing I want.”

“Ah,” if it wasn’t for the dim light within the tent, you would’ve sworn the druid was blushing. “Now, that’ll be the fever speaking.”

“No.” You gaze up at him, wishing you had the strength to curl your fingers in his hair and pull him in for the kiss you crave. “It’s not. I’ve wanted one since that night at camp, the celebration with the tieflings. I swear I’ll drink all the nettle soup in Faerun for a kiss.” “Since…” He trails off. “No, I couldn’t, little one.” He shakes his head, truly looking apologetic. “I won’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Why?”

He cups your cheek in a large palm, a small smile on his lips. “I do not believe you are quite aware of what you are requesting, given your current ailment.”

You purse your lips in thought, trying to seek a compromise. “What about when I’m better, then?”

He removes his hand and nods. “When you are recovered and if you recall this conversation and still desire it, then… yes, you may claim your sweet.” He mumbles towards the end, not quite believing what he was apparently promising. “However, you will still need to drink the nettle soup now.”

“Deal.” You acquiesce, and Halsin picks up the bowl in offering.

It burns as it goes down – all four or five remaining mouthfuls - but you manage the whole bowl.

“Good girl,” the wood elf murmurs with a smile – it makes the discomfort feel worth it for a moment - as he inspects the empty bowl, swapping it out for the waterskin once again.

“Now, try and sleep some more. By the time you wake, it will have done its work and you’ll be feeling much better.”

You lie back down without protest, closing your eyes. The furs smell like Halsin and you soon drift off back to sleep, a feverish thought of being wrapped up in his arms and the kiss you hoped to claim come morning.

Day turns into night and then day once more, the hours passed with numerous bowls of nettle soup that still burn at your throat with every swallow, vegetable broth for more sustenance and countless naps to no improvement. Halsin has been trying to distract himself with whittling, but it is not proving successful – lopping off half of the duck’s beak when you stir momentarily. He’s checked your temperature with the back of his hand too many times to count. There’s a taunting rattle from your lungs between bouts of sharp coughing fits that doesn’t seem to be easing either. The nettle soup should’ve broken your fever at least – he hadn’t encountered one in all his years that it had failed to do so – but you seem to be growing worse by the hour.

He watches as you toss and turn, brushing your hair from your face. You’ve done so much for him – freed him from the goblins, ensured the safety of the Grove and its occupants, defended him whilst he recovered Thaniel, freed a realm from the shadowcurse of beyond a century and yet he cannot return a simple favour by ridding you of a fever?

“Is she sick?”

“Thaniel.” Halsin’s starts at the sudden appearance of the spirit. The boy is knelt besides him, staring down curiously at your slumbering form. “What are you doing here, my friend?”

“Your party hasn’t moved on - I wondered why. Is she sick?”

Thaniel remained as curious as ever, it seemed.

Halsin sighs. “Yes, I am afraid so. The fever and cough proves most stubborn – I fear I am depleting this area’s supply of nettles.”

“Nettles?”

“For the soup – it reduces the fever. Or it should.”

Thaniel frowns, leaning over you and taking a cautious sniff. “But she smells of spolar.”

“Spolar?” The word seems vaguely familiar, though it sparks a sinking, sickening feeling in his stomach.

“It will have been a long time since you’ve had to treat it.” The boy shrugs. “A large purple mushroom, remember? Its spores line the lungs – its growth accelerates if surrounded by nettles.”

“No…” It’s as if a hand is squeezing at his heart. “I don’t recall seeing any on our travels out. It would grow so quickly?”

“Nettles are sturdy enough even for the shadowcurse, so when it was lifted it had probably laid dormant beneath the soil until the time came. How long have you been treating her?”

“Nearly two moons – numerous bowls of nettle soup.” Halsin’s face has drained of all colour. “By Silvanus, I’ll have been nourishing the infection itself.”

“You did not mean to,” Thaniel replied, patting Halsin on his thigh. “Do not fret. Vapours from a wilted Sussur Bloom will clear the lungs when inhaled, suspending any further spread. Then she will just need rest.”

“A wilted…” He gets to his feet, his mind whirring with the next steps. “I must make haste back to the Underdark – I could be there and back by night fall with the aid of sigil circles.”

He hurries out of his tent, finding Gale sat outside of his, camped a stone’s throw away, and a large tome in his lap.

“Halsin,” Gale starts cautiously, setting down his book at the wood elf's urgency. “Is something the matter?”

“Everything.” The druid drops to his knees and empties out his pack – planning to stuff it full of as much Sussur Bloom as he can lay his hands upon. “I made her worse. She’s inhaled the spore of the spolar.”

“The spore of what? And how could you have made her worse?” Gale quirks an eyebrow, trying to keep up. He has never seen the wood elf so flustered. “I don’t understand.”

“Spolar… the spores line the airways. It feeds and thrives upon other vegetation – I’ve been giving her nettle soup. She told me it burnt and I insisted she eat more. And she did, because she trusted me.”

“Oh. Well, you didn’t know-”

“I should’ve known!” Halsin explodes in response, his voice echoing around their encampment. “I need to go to the Underdark, I-” He gets up to his feet and immediately stumbles, catching himself before he could fall. Gale is quick to stand in front of him, hands held up to try in a feeble attempt to stop the wood elf leaving.

“Halsin, when is the last time you rested?”

“It matters not-”

“It very much does.” Gale chides. “Look at you – you are in no fit state to look after yourself, let alone gallivant off to the Underdark.”

“What the hells is going on?” Astarion appears the other side of Gale, drawn out by Halsin’s outburst.

“I must set this right. I cannot allow her to suffer a moment longer due to my negligence-“

“Okay, I’m sensing there’s a lot more to your feelings here, but allow me to assure you that we all care about her. Allow us to assist you, to aid you in whatever you need in this moment.”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” Astarion almost stomps his foot, never one to be ignored.

Halsin sighs, running a large palm down his face. Gale is right – he is exhausted, unable to enter a state of reverie in the past days in fear of you needing him.

“A Sussur Bloom. I need to retrieve one from the Underdark.”

Gale frowns. “But they don’t work outside the Underdark.“

“Wilted ones, they-"

“Wilted, you say?” Astarion looks at his fingernails for imaginary dirt. “I’ve got a handful in my pack still, I’m sure.”

Halsin sets off running in the direction of the vampire’s tent and his pack, Astarion hot on his heels.

“Now, wait a moment!”

Halsin won’t look at you.

You’d woken up, confusingly, back in your own tent two days later to Gale sat by your side and your fever broken. Your voice was still a little hoarse and walking around the camp left you all but winded, but that was meant to pass in another day or two, then the plan was to finally set off towards Baldur’s Gate.

You’d felt bad for holding the party up for so long, but everyone has been rather kind about the delay, doting on you a little more than you’d like.

All but Halsin, really, who stares over your head – not a hard feat given his height, true – but still, it smarts when you cannot catch his eye, especially when it was something you used to achieve so easily. He appears to leave the campsite before dawn and returns for supper, though he moves away from the campfire when you take your place, thanking Gale for the meal before hurrying off.

It’s driving you mad.

Tonight, though, you have a plan. You took supper back to your tent, feigning the need for an early night to your companions and lying in wait for Halsin to depart the camp once more.

You find the elf stood at the very edge of the lake, standing in the shallow waters as it laps to and fro, hands held behind his back.

You approach cautiously, conscious of disturbing a meditation or ritual the ex-archdruid might be partaking in, but it seems he is already acutely aware of your presence.

“There’s a chill in the air tonight.” His voice is firm – you can imagine him using the same tone when he was chairing heated discussions amongst the other druids back at the Emerald Grove. “You should go back to camp and keep warm by the fire at least if you find yourself restless.”

“Halsin,” you choose to ignore him as you wring your hands together and take another step closer. “Have I… offended you in some way?”

“Offended? Never.” Still, he keeps his head turned away from you.

“I apologise sincerely if I said something that upset you whilst I was sick. I’m afraid I don’t recall much of the time in your tent – it’s all a bit of a haze.”

“That’s understandable. You were…” His breath hitches, as if it’s painful to remember. “..quite unwell. But, no, you did not say anything malicious or cruel – it is not in your nature.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

His biceps tense as he brings his arms back in front of him, his shoulders heaving up with a breath before dropping back down as he swings round on his heels. He meets your eyes for a second or two before his gaze moves back above your head, as if something was extremely interesting in the distance.

“There.” A forced smile – it doesn’t reach the wood elf’s eyes by a mile. “Now, will you go back to the camp?”

“No.” You huff, taking a step closer.

“Please. Your lungs are not fully recovered yet and the chill tonight will do you no favours.”

“I’m not going back until you look me in the eyes and tell me what I’ve done to be treated this way.” You stand firm, stubborn.

He sighs, seemingly exasperated at the conversation. “You have not done anything, my h… friend.”

“I must have done something.”

“You are mistaken.”

“No, I’m not.” You retort back, placing your hands on your hips. “Ever since you healed me, you’ve been-”

“Healed you?” He scoffs, derisively, meeting your eyes at last with a furrowed brow. “Healed you? I did no such thing - I made you worse!”

You stare for a moment, bemused. “What? Worse how?”

“You said the nettle soup was burning your throat, you told me multiple times and I dismissed you saying it for not liking the taste, not of a symptom. Every time I had you drink it, I was giving the infection what it needed to thrive. I was killing you.”

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t remember that.” And you don’t, everything’s hazy – vague memories of cooling compresses on your head, a supportive arm around your waist as you drank from a waterskin. “Why would I keep drinking it if it hurt?”

“Because,” he takes a shuddering breath, “we made a deal.”

“A deal about what?”

“I beg of you not to make me relive my shame.” Halsin sounds defeated, but you continue to push.

“A deal about what?”

“I… I told you of how the children in the Grove took their medicine under the promise they would receive something sweet when they were better. Honeycakes, candied fruits, the like. You…” His voice grows tight. “You asked for something else sweet.”

You feel your face flush, a hazy, whisp of a memory now becoming crystal clear. “A kiss.”

The wood elf’s shoulders shudder. “I took advantage of your trust in me.”

“Advantage?”

“Of your feverish state.”

“I’m the one who suggested the kiss.”

“And I’m the one who agreed due to my own selfish desires, ignoring what my patient was trying to tell me.”

“No, you thought you were doing the right thing. We all make mistakes, or misinterpret. I’m fine.” You wrap your hand around his forearm as best as you can, trying to tug him forward. “Besides the whole tadpole in my head, of course…”

He smiles, wryly, at your poor joke, though you see tears burn at his eyes. “I just… I cannot stand the thought that I have caused you harm, little one – intentional or otherwise.”

“You haven’t, Halsin.” You place your other hand tentatively on his chest and look up, feeling his heart beat beneath your fingertips. “I am well and, if you were still willing, I’m ready for my sweet.”

He shakes his head. “As much as my heart desires it – and it does - I do not deserve it.”

“Am I not allowed to be the judge of that? And I say a deal is a deal.”

“You… truly wish for it still?”

You stand up on your very tip toes and press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, as far as you can reach. “More than ever.”

A firm arm wraps delicately around your waist – cautious of squeezing you too firmly – and heaves you up easily against his firm chest, his other hand cupping your cheek as he captures your lips in a kiss. It is soft and delicate, as if he’s worried you’ll break, but when you lift your hand to tangle in his locks and tug to bring him closer and deepening the kiss, there is no mistaking the growl that emits from his throat when your tongues intertwine.

As soon as you drop your hand from his hair, he retreats too, dropping you back down carefully to the ground, eyes scanning you in concern.

“You’re breathless, my heart.” You feel your cheeks prickle with heat at the term of endearment. “And flush too. Please, I insist you go back and keep warm-"

You cut him off, pressing your fingers against his lips, exhaling breathily. “Two things. One, I’m breathless because of your kiss. Two, I’m flush because of your words - what sort of reaction am I meant to have to you calling me that?”

He lifts his own hand then to hold yours in place so he can kiss the fingertips pressed against his lips, before tugging your hand back down and interlacing your fingers.

“My heart, my love, my sun, my moon, my stars - so many things I wish to call you whilst I lavish you with affection from dusk till dawn, and dawn till dusk… if you’d allow me, that is.”

“Allow?” You smile, “I encourage – heartily.”

It happens too fast to comprehend, a gentle twist of your arm to twirl you in front of him before one arm wraps around the back of your knees and you are swept off your feet, the wood elf commencing large strides back towards the camp.

“Then I insist we return to your tent where you will have as many sweets as you desire.”

“Oh, my tent now, is it?” You tease. “I thought I had to go and stay warm by the fire.”

“Yes, but, lucky for you,” he smirks, “I am known to run quite hot.”

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

#ghostdogwrites #halsin x you #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin fluff

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bloatedandalone04 · 6 months

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In The Way I Need You | Part 1

Series Masterlist

➪in which joey starts school and clay realizes he might have to listen to his mothers advice of hiring a sitter, but quickly warms up to that after idea meeting a seemingly sweet girl while on his way to work.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.6k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Clayton Beresford, get up,” the sound of his mother’s voice made Clay cringe as he grabbed his pillow and placed it over his head. “Clay, get up. Joey has been asking for his dad for the last half hour, you need to get up.”

Clay groaned as she ripped the pillow away from him and threw it on the opposite side of the bed before walking over to the curtains and pulling them open. “Mother,”

“Don’t mother me, Clay,” Lilith scolds as she moves back around the bed and stands over him. “You need to get ready for work, and get Joey ready for school, it’s his first day.”

With a huff, Clay sits up and throws the sheets off him. “You couldn’t have gotten him dressed for me?”

Lilith scoffs, walking towards the door. “I made him breakfast, you can pick out his clothing,” and then she was gone and Clay was left alone in the bed that felt all too big for just one person.

Looking around his room, he sighs at how messy it had gotten since his last attempt at cleaning it. He grew up damn near spoiled and never had to worry about cleaning his room or making his bed, so now at the age of twenty seven, he was terrible at both those tasks.

He looks over at the right side of the bed, and more specifically at how empty it was. That spot should be filled. She should be here, with him and with their son, but life really enjoys playing with him sometimes.

Sighing again, he gets up and throws on his work clothing, which really felt more like a formal event outfit than anything else. He finishes buttoning up his white shirt as he enters the kitchen, his eyes instantly landing on his son. “Hey, buddy,” he greets as he leans down and kisses the top of his head. “Did you have a good sleep?”

Joey nods and sets the crust of his toast down on the plate. “I’m still tired,”

Clay laughs and picks up the half eaten toast. “You are?” He asks and finishes his kids breakfast, his mind going back to when he was Joey’s age and also didn’t like crust. “You went to bed pretty early last night. Unless you were just pretending to be asleep when I came and checked in on you.”

Joey shakes his head quickly as Lilith laughs from her place at the sink, her arms crossed as she blows on the coffee mug in her hand. “No, dad,” he answers as he stares up into Clay’s matching blue eyes.

“No?” Clay hums, picking up the now empty plate and walking over to his mom.

She stays still as he reaches around her to set the plate down in the sink, a teasing smile on her lips. “He’s got you wrapped around his finger,” she stated. “You’re aware of that, right?”

Clay laughs and nods, looking back at his son as he scribbled on a blank piece of paper with a yellow crayon. “I know,” he agrees, looking down at his mom’s attire. “Are you staying home today?”

Lilith glances down at her housecoat clad body with a shrug. “I’m wrapped around that kid’s finger, too,” she grinned, finishing off her coffee and putting the mug in the sink as well. “I’ll get my work done early so I can be here when he gets home, but I really think it’s time we start looking for a more stable sitter. I know you don’t like talking about it, but I think you should consider hiring a nanny.”

Clay sighs and moves away, standing behind Joey and placing his hands on the back of his chair. “I said I’d think about it,” he muttered. “I haven’t come to a conclusion yet.”

“It’s not a bad idea to have someone here to look after him while we’re at work. Someone to get him to and from school, helps get him ready in the mornings,” she pointed out. “Like a nanny.”

“He doesn’t need a nanny,” Clay mumbled, reaching a hand up to flatten out Joey’s messy hair. “I don’t want my son growing up in that kind of environment.”

“You had a nanny when you were little, Clay,” she reminded as she moved away from the sink. “You turned out pretty well.”

“I’m a single dad at the age of twenty seven, mother,” he rasped. “And I still live with my mother.”

“I told you I never liked that girl, Clayton,” she scolded as she wrapped her robe tighter around her body. “And I also told you that this is your home for as long as you want it to be. You want to move out, fine, but then who will be there to help look after Joey? No one. Unless you listen to me and hire someone to do it.”

And then she was disappearing down the hall to get ready for the day. Grunting under his breath, Clay leaned down and pulled Joey’s chair out. “Come on, let’s get you dressed,” he held his hand out, grinning when the much smaller one grabbed it.

The phone rang five times before Clay was sent to voicemail.

He wasn’t surprised, but the silence still irked him. Glancing at his driver, Clay turned a bit and tried to make it a little more private, but he was literally in the backseat of a car on his way to work. How private could it really be? “Hey, it’s me again,” he started, not missing the way Rick, his driver, glanced back at him. “Joey started school today. Can you believe it? Our son started school.”

Rick straightened up at the harsh tone of Clay’s voice and quickly put his attention back on the busy street of New York, surely sensing that this would not be a nice voicemail.

Clay paid him no mind as he continued, “He’s four now. Did you know that? You should, he’s your kid, too. You should know how old he is and you should’ve been there for his first day of school,”

He wasn’t entirely sure if his ex even still used this number, or if he was just making these calls for nothing. She must, seeing as her voicemail hasn’t gotten full yet, and he’s been giving her these updates for the past three years now as a way to cope with not having her in his life anymore.

Clay knew she didn’t deserve to know about what’s been going on in Joey’s life, and he knew he shouldn’t be wasting time leaving her messages, but he couldn’t help it.

He didn’t know if he wanted to rub it in her face about how good of a parent he turned out to be, or how amazing their son is. He just wanted her to know that she royally fucked up when she decided to leave before Joey even turned one.

“You should’ve been there, Sam,” he said again, his voice wavering as he let his anger that had been building up since she left get to his head. “How the fuck could you do that to him? To us?”

Clay looks out the window and sees that he’s almost to the building in which he would be spending the next eight hours in.

Sighing, he wraps up the call. “Whatever, Sam. I hope you realize one day how much you’ve missed out on and how much our son has missed out on,” he muttered. “Not that you even care. Delete this, listen to it, do whatever you want. That’s what you’re best at.”

And then he hung up and was left feeling even worse.

It always ended that way, with him heated up with anger and with Sam probably feeling great at the fact that she is still able to rile him up without even being there.

Rick pulls off to the side of the street and looks back at Clay. “We’ve arrived, Mr. Beresford,”

Clay scoffs quietly, shrugging off his jacket since his skin had begun to sport a thin layer of sweat from how annoyed he got during the one-sided call. “Mr. Beresford was my dad,” he says, leaning back against the seat. He wasn’t ready to go in there yet. He was so frustrated and didn’t want to accidentally go off on anyone in that building because he still isn’t over his ex. “It’s just Clay. You know that.”

“I do,” Rick nods, sending him an apologetic smile in the rearview mirror. “Everything alright, Clay?”

Nodding, Clay looks out the window. “Everything is fine,” he lies as he watches a girl pace back and forth on the sidewalk. New York was a massive place and not easy to navigate through, but it was clear that she was new here. She wore a pale pink skirt and a white top that ended just above the hem of the skirt, which is not something people here usually wear.

Clay has lived here a long time and the people of New York were stereotypical in the way they wore their favorite sports teams logos on their clothes or baggy jeans and a t-shirt.

Most of them didn’t care and didn’t put a lot of effort into their appearance, simply because no one would notice. It was why he got a lot of stares whenever he walked around in dress pants and a tie.

The girl looked confused and lost and Clay felt a bit bad for her. Even he got a bit turned around at times, and he’s lived here his whole life. He owns half of it, too.

He also couldn’t ignore how pretty this girl is.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen his ex in years and he hadn’t let himself look at any of the women in the city as a potential partner as he was overly protective of both his son and his heart.

Or maybe it was because he simply felt bad for the girl and her clear lack of directions.

Whatever it was, it had him opening the car door without much of a second thought.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you looked up at the street sign then back at the paper in your hand.

After living in New York for the last couple weeks, you were beginning to think you would never get to know your way around it. The place was massive and so confusing to navigate through if you didn’t know where you were going, and you clearly didn’t.

You had been waiting to hear back from this job for days now and when you were finally given a chance for an interview, you couldn’t figure out how to get there. Your coffee did nothing to wake your brain up enough for you to be able to think clearly, and you debated on just throwing the rest of it away, but you were raised not to waste food or drinks when there are others who are less fortunate than you.

With an annoyed sigh, you stopped walking and stared down at the page again, not paying any attention to the car you were now standing beside as the door opened and someone stepped out.

You don’t look up from the paper as you move forward and walk straight into another person, your coffee slipping from your hand and spilling onto the pristine white shirt of a man. “Oh, my God,” you gasp, not noticing that the page that held the address had also gotten soaked from the spill. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”

It was the least of your worries as your eyes trailed up and met a pair of blue ones. Your breath hitched as the stranger smiled and shook his head as if he didn’t care at all that his white shirt was now stained with warm coffee. “It’s okay,” he said and his voice lived up to his appearance. Dreamy. Hot. Intimidating, even.

“That looks expensive,” you think out loud when you look back down at his ruined button up, then quickly wipe the worry off your face and replace it with fake confidence. “Which is totally fine, I can pay to have it fixed or cleaned or…whatever.” Really, you most likely couldn’t afford to do that, but he didn’t need to know that.

The stranger laughed and it was probably the sexiest thing you had ever heard. “Don’t worry about it,” he waved you off and took the napkin from you when you held it out to him.

You chew on your bottom lip as he begins to wipe up some of the coffee, though you both knew it wouldn’t do a thing to save the shirt. “Were you just going to work or something? I’d hate for you to have to wear that for the rest of the day,” you gestured to the mess on his shirt but he just shrugged and threw the napkin into the trash can that was nearby.

“I was actually debating on whether or not I should go home and skip work, then I saw you and thought you looked a little lost,” he grinned at the way your face flushed and how your cheeks were tinted pink. “Thought I could help you out a bit but ended up wearing your drink, instead.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “I’m so sorry,”

“It’s fine,” he brushed you off again then looked a bit hesitant as he added, “I’m Clay.”

He holds his hand out to you, making you look down at it before back up at his eyes. “Y/n,”

You shake hands and hate how you found yourself wanting to hold his for much longer than a few seconds. “So, in hopes I don’t sound like a total creep when I ask,” he begins, giving you a somewhat nervous smile. “Where were you trying to get to?”

Laughing, you shake your head and look down at the ruined paper. “No, not at all,” you say, throwing the paper into the trash as well. “It’s that obvious that I’m lost, huh?”

Clay shrugged again, stepping back towards the car and opening the backseat door. “Only a little,” he teased and pulled out his jacket, efficiently covering up most of his shirt. “I’ve lived here my whole life. Maybe I can point you in the right direction, if you want.”

You knew you were late for the interview, but you wanted to stay and talk with him for a bit longer. What was wrong with you? Why do you always do this around cute guys? Though, calling Clay cute felt a bit like an understatement. He was by far the hottest man you had ever seen in your life. “Please,” you say quietly, stepping towards him. “I was trying to get to this interview at the Milton Hotel, but the directions were hard to understand even before I got coffee all over them.”

Clay laughs and closes the door, turning around and nodding towards the intersection down the street. “You were pretty close, believe it or not,” of course, you wanted to say but held back. “You just take a left at the lights and go straight for about three blocks until you reach a bookstore that’s across from the old jail.”

He turned back to face you and you realized you were barely paying attention to his directions as you were far too focused on how good his backside looks.

“The hotel is above the bookstore,” he finished and you gave him a grateful smile. “So, not too far now.”

“Thank you,” you say and look down the street, not quite ready to leave the presence of him.

Maybe he didn’t want you to leave, either. “What’s the interview for? If you don’t mind me asking,”

You wave your hand. “Not at all,” you say again. “Just some babysitting gig. I finally got my CPR certificate and know how busy New York is. Thought it would be a good place to start.”

What are the odds..

Clay nods and tries to come off as casual as he leaned against the backdoor of the car. “Babysitting? Do you have much experience?”

“Yeah, about three years worth,” you answer, fidgeting with your fingers and Clay found himself hoping he wasn’t making you uncomfortable with all his questions. It had been too long since he actually let himself talk to a girl for more than a minute since Sam, so he was glad to see he was still able to decently hold a conversation. “I did it a lot through high school.”

“Yeah? When’d you graduate?” He wasn’t sure why he wanted to know so much about you, but it was clear the two of you got along pretty well for two strangers. He was sure he could hook you up with a job if you didn’t get this one, and now he was once again wondering why he cared so much.

“Two years ago,” you replied and it didn’t seem like you were uncomfortable with him at all, so he decided to try his luck.

“Well, I hope the interview goes well,” he says and thinks about how he wouldn’t mind having someone like you around his son for the hours he was at work. Though Clay has some massive trust issues, he knew he would need to find someone to look after Joey soon. “And if it doesn’t, there’s many other opportunities that are waiting for you in this city.”

“Yeah?” You gave him a teasing smile and Clay had to physically hold back a smirk in response. “Like what?”

Clay stiffened a bit as he chose his words carefully. “You said you’re a babysitter, right?” And when you nodded, he continued, “My son started school today, but he still needs someone to watch him until I get back from work. If that is something you’re interested in, there’s an opportunity for you right there. But I’m sure the interview will go great.”

You study his face for a bit, making Clay think he said something wrong, before you grin up at him. “Thanks for the boost of confidence,” you soften your smile. “I might take you up on that offer, if your kid is cool, that is.”

Clay laughed as he reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. “He’s the coolest kid in New York, that’s for sure,” he says and hands his phone to you. “Let me know how it goes? And if you’re interested in looking after the coolest kid you’ll probably ever meet for a few hours of your day.”

Your laugh reaches his ears just as you take his phone and quickly type in a number, one he hoped was actually yours and not a fake one. He couldn’t lie, it wasn’t often he asked for girls’ numbers, but you seemed sweet and like you knew what you were doing. Except for when it came to reading directions, but even that was understandable. He was also doing this to give his poor mom a break, and to make sure his son was in good hands when he was gone. “I’ll text you,” you promised as you handed him back his phone. “Thanks for the help. I really appreciate it.”

He took his phone and pocketed it. “It was nice to meet you, Y/n,”

You begin backing away as you smile at him. “You too,” you wave. “Sorry again about your shirt. You wear that coffee well, if it helps.”

Clay laughs again as you turn around and begin heading down the street in the direction of the lights.

The window of the car rolls down and he briefly hears Rick clear his throat. “I’ll pick you up at four, Mr. Beresford?”

And Clay was far too distracted to be able to correct him again, so he just nodded before tearing his eyes away from your retreating form and heading into the building.

Clay had gotten held up today and he had to text his mom and ask if she could pick Joey up from school. He knew it would be so much easier if he had a stable sitter to ask, and he was quickly beginning to agree with his mothers requests of hiring one.

While Clay wanted to be the one to pick Joey up from his first day, he was glad he would have his grandma there. He knew his mom was probably his son’s favorite person, and he couldn’t even get mad at that fact because Clay had to admit; Lilith Beresford was an amazing woman and an even better mom.

As he began packing up his things, his mind drifted back to you for what felt like the tenth time since meeting you all those hours ago. He didn’t know what it was, but Clay felt captivated by you.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t let himself get close to another girl since Sam, let alone have a full on conversation with one.

Maybe it was because he found you cute and sweet and a bit funny.

Either way, he was thinking about you as he shrugged his jacket back on and over his stained shirt at the same time his phone went off.

He checked it as he turned off the lights to his office, a genuine smile finding its way onto his lips as he read the text,

The interview was a fail. I think it was over before it even began. Any chance I could set up one with you? Very curious about this supposed coolest kid in New York.

And when you added a,

This is Y/n, by the way. The one who ruined your shirt because I have no sense of direction.

He knew he was probably screwed.

#clay beresford #clay beresford imagines #clay beresford x reader #clayton beresford #Clayton beresford x reader #clayton beresford imagines #hayden christensen blurb #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen icons #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen #awake 2007 #awake #in the way i need you series #in the way i need you

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outsideratheart · 7 months

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Mornings With You (Leah Williamson x reader)

A/N: This is short but I was in a lovey dovey mood.

It had been late by the time you arrived home. Your flight from Barcelona had been delayed meaning that Leah was long asleep by the time you walked through the door.

Harry Potter was playing on the TV. It told you that Leah went ahead with your planned Wizarding World marathon without you. She was curled up on the sofa, blanket tucked up to her chin with light snores escaping her mouth.

“Hello sunflower” your thumb brushed across her cheek bone.

“I tried to stay awake” Leah didn’t open her eyes but she did turn her head to move into your touch.

“I know baby. How about we go to bed?”

The blonde nods her head with little to no energy as she was still half asleep. Leah may have agreed with you but she made no effort to move. You didn’t mind though, you scooped her up and carried her bridal style into your bedroom.

Within seconds you were changed and laying in bed with your girlfriend in your arms. These are the moments you missed when you slept alone at night in Barcelona. The scent of Leah’s strawberry shampoo lulled you into a sweet slumber.

The next morning you turn onto your side hoping to wrap your arms around Leah’s waist only her side of the bed is empty but not cold. Mornings were suppose to be spent in bed, awake or asleep, especially so when you find out that is isn’t even 9am.

You close your eyes and listen, maybe she’s in the shower and you can join her but you don’t hear running water. Instead you hear the soft sound of Fleetwood Mac and mumbles of frustration coming from downstairs.

The music allowed you to enter the kitchen undetected and watch Leah and she tried to work one of your coffee makers. As you inhale you pick up the scent of something sweet but also burning. It doesn’t take long to come to the conclusion that Leah’s original plan was to make you breakfast.

Her hips sway to the beat as she takes a sip of her tea, nearly dropping the mug as she spins and sees you.

“Good Morning” you tell the blonde who reaches over the kitchen island and kisses you softly on the lips.

“I don’t know how you drink this, it’s disgusting” Leah takes a sip of your coffee and pulls a face.

“You’re really selling it” you take a sip and much to your surprise it isn’t that bad. Leah wasn’t the best cooks and the lack of skills did affect her coffee making ability especially when she used your machine.

“About breakfast…” Leah didn’t want to admit her failure.

“We’ll go out for lunch later, don’t worry about it” you reassure her.

The two of you talk about what you had been up to since the last time you saw each other. You tell her about the games in Mexico, the ones she asked you not to play in because she wanted you to to rest after the World Cup. Leah fills you in on how her rehab is going and the smile on her face when she tells you that she has a date for grass work melts your heart.

She was happy and for the first time in months you saw the light that died the day she tore her ACL. There were no words you could use to describe how proud you were of her. It had been tough for her to miss the World Cup but she gave you unwavering support regardless. It gave you yet another reason to love her and to want her by side during the good times and the bad. She was your person, that much you are certain off. Leah Williamson was made for you.

“You’re staring. What are you looking at?” Leah turns around to look behind her.

“You. You are—no it’s not possible” you say with a smirk tugging at your lips.

“What?” Leah’s voice cracks whether it be with panic or worry.

“Just give me a second. I need to make sure” you walk around the island and cup her face.

“Y/N what is it?”

“Well I’ll be damned” you peck her lips once, twice then three times.

Still Leah was none the wiser.

“You’re even more beautiful than the last time I saw you”

Your girlfriend dips her head in embarrassment. She never had been good at taking these kind of compliments whereas you loved knowing that your words had this affect on her.

#leah Williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson one shot #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #engwnt x reader #engwnt one shot #engwnt imagine #awfc x reader #awfc imagine #awfc one shot

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dilfartist · 7 months

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Model 2099

Pairing; Yandere Android Miguel O’hara x reader

Synopsis; You always thought of your android Miguel as a loveable companion. Little did you know he had an unhealthy obsession with you. And it even went as far as hurting someone who hurt you.

Word count; 3.3k

Tw; yandere theme, dark themes, dead dove don’t eat (maybe).

Reader description; Female/GN

Your skin felt frigid. Your fingertips, ears, and nose all numb despite your body being clad head to toe in warm apparel.

In Nueva York, the snow descended in great, unforeseen amounts. On the first day of the predicted cold weather, the snow reached from the street to the concrete. It was narrow enough for a child to build a snowman. However the next day, the snow reached higher, enough to cover the doorsteps of some apartments on your block and blanket the roads in ice.

Now your street felt lifeless. The only cars seen were the ones parked on the sidewalks. None of your neighbors left the warmth of their homes.

You dig your left boot into the hill of rampant snow, then bring the right one to propel yourself further. Unlucky you, having to fight your way home through the snow just because you needed a few necessities. The weather forecast predicted the snow would last for at least two days, so you went out to retrieve toilet paper, soup cans, microwaveable dinners, and a flashlight in case of power outs.

Grasping the handle of the front door, you pressed it forward, enough for you to enter. Swiftly, you shut the door behind you to sponge in the warmth coming from the heater. Once your numb fingers began to absorb the heat, you peeled off your gloves - well these gloves weren't yours; they belonged to a co-worker nice enough to lend them to you- and threw them inside your purse. You let out a pleased sigh. The house had a tidied aroma, smelling like someone had used enough bleach for it to still be identified hours later despite drying. Still, the apple cider fragrance spray claimed the house, if only slightly. Disrobing yourself off your coat, you call out to your Android. "Miguel! I'm home!"

Usually, your android - Miguel O’Hara, model 2099- waited beside the door to greet you after a hard day's work. Helping you disrobe your jacket and asking you about your day. And even when slightly off-timing, he'd let you know of his presence with a "welcome back!" from wherever he was in the moment. Oddly enough, there was no reply. You look up, puzzled by the lack of response. "Miguel?!" You call out, voice more audible for the other side of the house this time. Again, no reply.

You don't think much of his absence, presuming he had forgotten to grab an ingredient for tonight's dinner and would be back home in no time. Sometimes he'd be so focused on one task that the other errands would be forgotten. Miguel could handle himself.

The majority of lights in the house were turned off; furthering your conclusion about your Android’s whereabouts. You stepped into your kitchen, examining the room. Aside from the pots on the stove, nothing had changed in the kitchen. The kitchen was spick and span, per usual. You'd remember to thank him when you saw him.

Approaching the stove, you took note of the two pots simmering on the stovetop. One sat on the front burner, the other on the back burner. You lifted the lid, allowing the steam to escape. Your stomach rumbles, craving the smell. I groan, feeling impatient, placing the lid back on the pot.

The aroma of dinner leaked out of the slightly ajar pot, alluring you closer for a taste. You entered the kitchen, following the scent of the meal simmering on the stove.

Raising the lid off the pot, you dip the ladle into the soup, scooping as much as you can. You took a small sip, savoring the creamy-rich taste. The taste is addicting and you can’t get enough. You dip the ladle in once again, drinking the soup until the ladle is empty. Then again you repeated the action.

“Don't worry, dinner will be ready in just a minute.” The abrupt sound of a person’s voice states. You flinch in surprise, A hand is placed on your chest, dropping the ladle, and your heart thumps quicker than before. “Miguel!” You gasp, “You scared me.” You whirl around to meet his eyes.

Miguel gives a small apologetic smile, setting the basket of clothes he was carrying onto the table. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Miguel says softly, accent getting heavier at the end. “Didn't hear you come in.”

“No, it’s fine.” You reassured. “Thank you for cleaning.”

Even if Miguel was programmed to clean, you always felt the need to thank him for his labor. No matter the times he reminded you that he was a machine designed for that very chore.

“I should also apologize for not greeting you at the door; My clothes were in the dryer.”

“It's fine, Miguel, really. You don't have to greet me at the door every day.”

Once again, Miguel provides you with a small smile; however, his smile does not reach his eyes. If the guilty smile Miguel sported wasn't enough evidence of his guilt, the flashing red LED on Miguel's right temple certainly accomplished the job.

The LED’s scarlet color quickly transitioned into a light blue color, indicating Miguel had gotten over his negative feelings.

It was terrifying knowing the sole dissimilarity between the two of you was the LED. Without the LED, you wouldn't have thought Miguel to be an Android. Knowing the sole difference between the two of you was the LED was in a way terrifying. Without the LED installed in the right temple of Androids, no one would be able to tell who was a robot and who wasn't.

Dragging the box cutter down swiftly, the tape splits open. You take a step back examining the package. The package is light brown, standing up vertically against the wall. “What the hell is this thing?” you ask, amused. A good friend of yours shipped you a gift out of the blue, so you called her up to catch your reaction.

“Open it and see,” she replies sarcastically.

You roll your eyes and spread the folds of the box open. Package peanuts spill all over the floor, and you grumble at the mess that piles on the floor. “Goddamn it,” you’re just about to complain some more when you catch something out of the corner of your eye. You freeze in place, you raise your head in an unhurried motion, the dread in your abdomen expanding.

You holler with fright, falling on your ass. “Did you send me a dead body?!” you exclaim into the speaker of your phone.

Your friend on the other side of the line enjoys your reaction, laughing so hard she begins to have a coughing fit. “Oh my god,” she hums in satisfaction, “you’re too funny, (Name).” After a while she settles down, no longer laughing but her tone still caries the puerile amusement she once had a moment ago, “It’s not a dead body. It's an Android.”

You were familiar with the concept of an android. Androids have been ubiquitous since their first release, and you’ve encountered many, but the majority of the time they were owned by establishments due to their overwhelming expense. Which is why the thought of you owning an Android was mind-boggling.

You stutter out a response, not sure how to approach the profound surprise, “You- I- why did you give it to me? Not that I’m complaining. It's just- this had to be about 8,000 dollars!” Then it hits you; you and she are in the same boat when it comes to funds, “Wait- how the hell did get this?!” you rub your temple, examining the face of the bot through the blurred glass that contains it.

She responds nonchalantly, “Aaron is wealthy remember? He bought me it.”

Aaron was her new boyfriend, he came from a wealthy background and she took advantage of that fact every moment she could. And he didn't seem to mind. Buying this bot would be like buying a box of cereal for him; not something to think twice and a regular ordeal.

You lift a brow, perplexed by the fact she gave you such an expensive gift. Not that you were complaining, of course, just simply curious “And you gave it to me? Why?” you question.

“He got jealous because the Android is literally breathtaking and I just couldn't keep my eyes off him. So being how he always is, he requested for me to throw it out. I mean his voice, Jesus,” she suppresses a squeal, “and not only that, he’s 6’9 and muscular!” she continues to gush about him, you unconsciously tune her out, your focus too busy on analyzing his blurred features.

You hum in acknowledgment. “Well, let me take it out, I’ll have to research it. Thanks for the gift, I'll talk to you later. Bye.”

You take a seat at the dining table. Miguel saunters to the stove, opens the lid, and takes a portion of the soup out to pour into a porcelain bowl. You cock your head to the side, curious to know the reason two respective pots were brewing their own soups. “What’s the other pot have in it?” you question.

Miguel glances at you for a moment then continues to prepare your bowl. “Mrs. Peterson is sick,” he carries the bowl over and sets it gently in front of you. “She asked me to prepare her some soup. I offered her the soup I made for tonight’s dinner, but you know how she can be.”

Mrs. Peterson lived next door, and she adored Miguel. She was sixty-three years old, childless, and had no family members in general. She always required his assistance and Miguel always obliged.

A frown tugs at the corners of your lips, concern morphing your face. “She’s sick? That's too bad. That’s sweet of you to help her.”

Mindlessly, you use your soup spoon to stir the steaming liquid in the bowl. Anxious of the answer he’ll reply to you with, you take a breath of courage. “Did David come by today?” you question, voice low and meek

Miguel is quiet for a beat until he decides to speak up. “No, and if he did, I’d deal with him,” he states carefully, touching on the subject to convey his understanding. “You haven't called him, have you?” his tone is identical to a nagging best friend who is tired of seeing you whine over a boy.

“No.” you shake your head, eyes shifting to meet his, “no,” you say once again to reassure him. Miguel appears satisfied with the answer he received, “Good. Don't go contacting him after what he did to you.” you let out an exasperated exhale. Leaning back in your chair, setting down the soup spoon in your hand, “I- Miguel, I think I might have deserved it.”

Miguel snaps his head in your direction, wearing a stern mug, “He had no right to put his hands on you, no matter the reason.” he chides. He leans his massive body against the counter, folding his arms, fully engaged in the conversation.

“I brought up his ex!” you argue on his behalf. Why? You’re unsure.

“Oh, so he should act the same way she did, to you?” Miguel is a tad bit galled, being sardonic with his retorts. Now he’s fully engrossed in the discussion, leaning his massive body against the counter, giving you his undivided attention. “Slapping you so hard you hit the wall.”

It hurts how factual his words are. It’s enough for you to look down in chagrin, a lump forming in your throat making it hard to swallow. Let anyone else be in your situation, you’d chastise them for such a weak mindset. Make sure they knew there was no good reason to blame themselves for someone else's wrongdoing. But being that person who feels empathy for the person who hurt you, feels so much more embarrassing than having a friend be that person.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you say lowly, speaking any louder would make you cry.

“It’s fine, (Name).” Miguel consoles, moving from the counter to rub a comforting hand on your back. You sigh, feeling soothed by the little gesture. Miguel leans down, tilting his body slightly to face-to-face with you. Miguel looks at you with such tenderness a shover travels down your spine. “He won’t hurt you again, I’ll make sure of it” His expression as a whole is soft and full of fondness, though his red eyes pierce your soul.

“Miguel bot 2099,” you mutter the title of the YouTube video on your TV screen. You click play and the video loads for a second before finally playing.

A woman appears in a pitch-black void background. Her whole body is a golden color and she sports an elegant white dress that fits her figure. “Hello, I am Lyla.” she greets sounding welcoming, “I am the mascot of the company LYLA. We are the ones responsible for Androids and Ai’s. You must have clicked on this video because you must have purchased a Miguel bot or you’re just curious.”

Lyla presents a Miguel bot that emerges on the screen out of nowhere. “Miguel O bot is one of LYLA’s number one selling Androids. And there’s a reason for that.”

“Miguel is used for three sole reasons.”

Three Miguels appear on the screen, all in diverse outfits. One is in a business suit, another in a red and blue apron covering a white t-shirt, and the last one is shirtless with leather pants.

Lyla puts her hand out, motioning to the first one in a suit. “Here we have Workbot Miguel. Miguel’s hardworking nature mends well with a work environment, which is why he is mainly purchased to be a working android. Miguel has a variety of skills that companies yearn for in employees. Barriestabot Miguel, Assistant Managerbot Miguel, Firefighterbot Miguel, and Nursebot Miguel are just a few Androids listed in this category of the bot.

Lyla moves on and the camera pans to the second Miguel clad in the apron and white shirt. “Household Miguel: with household Miguel, you’ll never have to worry your head about cleaning or cooking, that’s his job! He pays necessities and bills if you have no time. And he is great with children!”

She moves on for the last time. “And here we have the Miguel meant for adults eighteen and above. This is sexbot Miguel, mostly found in male strip clubs or can be purchased online. We assure you, that you’ll feel pleasure you’ve never felt before. He comes with a remote control, which switches from hardcore dominant to soft dominant to submissive. We’ve created his intimate parts to the point numerous test participants felt like it was the real deal, and probably even better. He’s crafted to seem real so he includes fluids. The fluids are not real, they are simply there for it to seem real or by the user's choice. The fluid can be bought in stores near you or online. There are fruit flavors as well as desserts.”

The Miguel Androids disappear and Lyla is left by herself. “If any malfunctions occur with the bots, we have programmed the Miguel to have a Lyla AI to sit on his shoulder and help the user repair the issue. Lyla’s are never the same. They don’t appear like I do. Lyla’s come in all shapes, sizes, and ethnicities.”

Lyla gives a smile, a smile that you can’t help but feel uncomfortable by. It’s like she's staring right at you. In you.

“We hope you enjoy your Android. Your friends at LYLA.” the video concludes.

You sit there mentally processing the information for a minute, rubbing your chin. Your gaze moves to the Android, now propped up on the wall, and outside it’s containment. Miguel is definitely tall and extremely muscular as he was claimed to be. You can see why Aaron demanded she throw him out; he couldn't compete with him in the slightest.

Miguel had tanned skin, dark brown hair pushed back, two thick bushy eyebrows, and old wrinkles. Why did they choose to make him aged? They never explain. Maybe it’s to target families and people with daddy issues, you think. You walk over, looking up at his face. His eyes are shut.

“Didn't explain how to turn you on,” you grumble. Your hands explore the skin of his neck until your fingertips brush against a button on the back, you press down until a humming sound emits from the Android. You take two steps back and watch as the Android powers on. On his left temple appears a blue swirling light. His eyes flutter open.

...Are they red? That's...not right.

Your brows crease at the sight. You take out your phone, glancing at the original model once again. Yeah...Miguel should definitely have brown eyes. “What the hell..?” you whisper.

Putting your phone away to be polite to him, you greet him. He looks down at you, “Hello. My name is Miguel O’Hara.” he states casually.

His red eyes are piercing into you, but still, you find yourself bewitched.

“Thanks, Miggy,” you smile slightly at him, not yet recovering after the hard topic. Miguel was right, David’s vitriolic behavior towards you was inexcusable. Miguel would be there for you. He’s been your support more than your own boyfriend has been for months. Granted one is a robot, but sometimes you don’t even realize it with how human he acts.

A high-pitched beeping sound echoes from the left side of the house. “The washer is done. I put in another load when you came in. I’ll be back.” Miguel saunters off.

You stand up, walking over to the stove holding your empty bowl. You reach for the first pot but then decide against it. Mrs. Peterson wouldn’t die if you had one bowl of the soup. You reach over and open the second pot. You scoop as much soup as you can onto the ladle and pour it into the bowl. Once filled nearly to the brim, you place it down on the counter. You grab the lid, placing it back onto the pot.

You turn your attention back to the bowl.

“What the hell?” you mumble, squinting to guarantee yourself you weren’t crazy.

Poking out of the soup was something white. Nothing you could identify from just one look. You take your spoon and pick up the white thing with it.

It was...an eyeball! A human eyeball!

You scream in terror, dropping to the floor, your fall causing the entirety of the pot to plunge with you to the ground, reverberating a clank. You crawl away, from the dark liquid puddling the floor. More and more body parts are revealed; a big white toe, fingers of all sizes, another eyeball, and you can only assume the chunks of meat are the entire body. You shake like a leaf in the wind, looking around for something to do! What were you going to do now?!

Your panic is interrupted by a creak in the floorboards outside the kitchen. You snap your head in the detection of the sound to see Miguel standing in the doorway, taking up the whole door with his body. You cower in fear at his physiognomy. His expression is indistinct, bloodshot eyes watching you like a lion catching its prey attempting to sneak off. You stare at each other, both unmoving from your spots. You’re the first to speak, though if it weren’t for the pregnant silence and the motion of your lips, “I’m sorry,” your voice cracks, the lump in your throat making a comeback. “Please don't hurt me.” you whimper.

Miguel saunters towards you, you scoot back still on edge. Miguel knees down, taking your face into his hands. They feel warm. Why? He hushes your cries with such tender you nearly overlook the situation. “I had to,” he spoke up factually. “He came in here, threatening you for telling his mother about the fight. I couldn't let him hurt you again.”

You let out a muffled cry, looking into his crazed eyes bloodstained eyes. He presses a kiss to your forehead and whispers, “I made sure he’d never hurt you again.”

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