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uglypastels · 2 years

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Following the Herd // dark!cult!Eddie x reader

summary: Eddie Munson has never been anything but sweet and caring to you. He had always made sure you were alright and safe and always helped you with anything you asked for. So now, that he needed you, how could you possibly refuse?

PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING TO READ THIS FIC AND IF YOU DO NOT LIKE THE SOUND OF THEM, DO NOT READ IT. if you do and still have any complaints about the content that has been tagged, that's on you. <3

word count: 14k

warnings the occult and cult stuff. blood. ritual sacrifices. inflicting non-lasting injury on self/others. subliminal indoctrination. Manipulation and taking advantage of the naive and innocent reader. Eddie is protective, possessive and controlling. has issues. mention of character death [the Creels]. mention of drinking, smoking and drugs.

Explicit Content! 18+ only. Minors DNI! fem reader. PIV sex. unprotected sex (big no-no). heavy s/d dynamic. thigh riding. extended orgasm denial. overstimulation. innocence and corruption kink + virginity. knife kink (kinda). spitting. oral [f receiving]. debatable dacryphilia. blindfold. Eddie's handcuffs. praise. "whore" x1.

If I missed out on any warnings, I severely apologise. Please let me know and I will add them

"Just as every cop is a criminal

And all the sinners saints

As heads is tails

Just call me Lucifer

'Cause I'm in need of some restraint"

-the Rolling Stones, Sympathy for the Devil

The thing one must understand about Eddie Munson is that he never meant for anything bad to happen. On the contrary, he had nothing but good intentions for you, for anyone. He was a kind, deeply caring person who wanted nothing but the best for others. It was not his fault that people didn't understand him.

So what? He didn't dress like all the other conservative assholes in town. He was different and dared to speak up for himself; since when is that a crime? He had his beliefs to fight for, just like anyone else; why would that make him the bad guy? People have started wars over way less, and yet, Eddie had been the one cast out from society, branded as a monster. He, who had never done anything wrong in his life.

You knew like no other how wrong these misconceptions about him were, having experienced his kindness first-hand. It was only a year ago, but it could have been a lifetime. It was almost a coincidence how he found you at that party over spring break. There were so many people, and the music was so loud, that it was easy to get disorientated. The air was thick with smoke and the smell of liquor, making you sick. He had helped you then. It was Eddie who took your hand and led you outside into the fresh and cold night air.

'You alright?' He looked deep into your eyes with a soft smile, to which you could only smile sheepishly. Maybe that is how he had thought of his cute nickname for you? 'What's a cute little lamb like you doing out here, all alone, anyway?'

'I'm here with my friends. Just… seemed to have misplaced them somewhere.' You had laughed, not wanting to show how scary that had actually been. The music from inside the house was still blasting, beating against your chest. Eddie nodded in understanding.

'You've got to be careful, sweetheart, don't want to lose yourself to this chaos.' He brushed some hair out of your face; your skin was burning up from how warm it had been in the house. You only noticed it when compared to the cold touch of his hand. His eyes were still on you, focused, the deep dark of his irises pulling you in. 'Haven't been drinking, have we?' He smiled innocently, clearly teasing, intensifying the burning heat in your cheeks.

'No.' You could say it earnestly, but the reasons behind your honesty felt a bit embarrassing. You almost didn't want to admit that you had never had a drink before and were still apprehensive about alcohol. He would surely think it's silly, to be 18 and never even have had a beer or a shot. There were so many things you still hadn't done, in fact, that he would probably see as normal.

But his smile grew bigger, and he almost sounded proud when he continued with the conversation: 'Good. Good. You don't want that stuff in you.'

'I don't?' You blinked as he shook his head. Anyone else would have told you to suck it up, but not him.

'No, all it will do is ruin that pretty mind of yours. And we don't want that, do we?' His voice made your heart flutter in excitement, which proved everyone else's suspicions wrong. Because no evil could make you feel that good, could it?

And it never really stopped. Neither the feeling you felt when you were around him nor how he treated you. Eddie had a very protective and caring nature. He needed to be sure you were safe and alright. At school, he would ensure you ate your lunch, had a good night's sleep the night before, and weren't too cold or too warm. He invited you to hang out a lot– an offer you could hardly refuse. He walked you home and would help you with your homework or take you back to his trailer, where he would play you songs on his guitar. The music he listened to sure was different from what you were used to. Heavy, gritty and dark, but all of that talk that it was Satan's music was ridiculous. Anyone who would listen to a few bars of it could know that. And the artistry of these musicians was also undeniable.

Eddie had never expected you to enjoy his kind of music as much as you did, but it brought the biggest smile to his face, which, in turn, made you that much happier. You couldn't get enough of his happiness and could do anything for it. It would be the fair thing to do, considering everything Eddie's done for you...

When your parents found out you had started hanging out with a boy like Eddie Munson, they were, quite honestly, scared. They did not want his likes to influence you, making you stray down to a dark and dangerous lifestyle.

But it couldn't be further away from the truth.

Eddie ensured you stayed away from things such as alcohol or drugs, even cigarettes. He didn't even want you talking about it, didn't want you anywhere near the stuff. And even though he used all of it, he made sure to never do it around you. He would hide away the weed and the liquor bottles in his trailer, and he'd control his need to smoke until you had left.

'It's too late for me, I'm beyond saving, but that doesn't mean you have to go down that path too.' He would say, stroking your hair, if you ever asked why he was so adamant about keeping you away from these vices. 'Can't have my little lamb be ruined like that.' And he would kiss your forehead, ring-clad hand upon your cheek. His rips were usually chapped, and fingers roughly calloused, but you didn't mind. His touch still felt divine.

Eddie protected you from more than just these substances. He knew you were not the most experienced in living life, which was something he appreciated and praised, but the shock on his face when you had told him you had never even had your first kiss… the idea of that made his head spin. It excited him more than he had ever thought imaginable, but it also scared him. Since he had found that out about you, you had noticed how much more protective he had gotten over you around certain people. It was cute, how possessive he got when other guys looked at you.

'Believe me, baby, they're no good for you.' He would hold you close, turning your back to whoever had been trying to catch your eye. 'Guys like that… they only have one thing on their mind.'

'What's that?' you asked, but he never gave you a direct answer. It was nothing his little lamb should be worried about. You were his pure, innocent girl, and he couldn't have the evils of others corrupt you. He wanted what's best for you.

He really did make you feel safe and comfortable, in a way no one had ever done before. You felt like you could tell him anything, no matter how personal or embarrassing. Things you wouldn't dare tell any other guy.

'Uhm, Eddie,' you mumbled one time. You were in your bedroom, sitting on the ground with your backs against your bed. Eddie had you sitting between his legs. His hands around your middle, rubbing small circles on the bare piece of skin between where your shirt and trousers met. The sensation it left on you spread across your whole body in sparks, particularly between your legs, making it very hard to focus on the book you had been trying to read.

'Something wrong?' He asked, head propped up on your shoulder as he spoke, so his words came out with his warm breath against your neck, not helping your situation.

'I uh–' you were flustered; the only thing you could think about was how his fingers were creeping over your stomach, inching your waistband. 'Nevermind.'

'No, no, sweetheart. Now you got to tell me.'

'It's a bit warm in here, don't you think?' You breathed out slowly.

'Not really.' He shrugged. 'But you can open a window if you want.'

You took the opportunity to get away from his touch. Not that you minded it or that it wasn't pleasant. On the contrary, you had to escape it because of how good it felt. You had never felt like this before. Hot and bothered, all over. It wasn't something you were used to or even knew how to handle.

'Are you sure, you're alright?' Eddie asked once you came back to sit in his lap. You hummed out a response, but he could tell it wasn't all true. 'C'mon, it's me. You can tell me, can't you?' Of course, you could. You could tell Eddie anything, that much you knew.

'I just– feel a bit hot. That's all.' It still all felt a bit silly. A bit difficult to put into words.

'Hot?' He asked for a clarification, to which you only nodded your head. You looked down at your lap, embarrassed even though you knew there was nothing to be ashamed about. Eddie wrapped his arms around you, but his hands were low, pressing at the hem of your trousers, and it wasn't making matters any better.

'What are you doing?' You gasped when you felt him slip past the material of your shorts, fingers sliding over your panties slowly. You arched your back in anticipation; it was an automatic, subconscious reaction. Still, it felt wrong, though. He had always told you how that part of you was sacred, off limits for others.

Others. Yes.

Not him.

'I just need to check something.' His voice was a mere hush as his fingertips brushed over your core, just the thin layer of cotton keeping up the barrier between you. But he wouldn't actually touch you there. Not yet. He couldn't ruin you like that. It would be inconsiderate and selfish, and that's not who Eddie was. He just wanted what's best for you.

'You are burning up, baby,' he clicked his tongue when his fingers added some pressure to the touch. Your back stiffened, and you held your breath, unsure what to do. 'I wish I could help, but I can't right now.' Of course, you would never actually protest anything he did, knowing he had his valid reasons, but you wished he hadn't pulled away.

'Why not?' your voice was shaky.

'It's not the right time,' he pressed you back against his chest, taking in your sweet scent. Your shampoo, your perfume, even the ink of the pen you had been writing with for the past few hours, and your arousal– all mixed into something that could only be described as you.

'Right time?' you weren't sure what he meant by that, but Eddie talked a lot about funny things that you didn't understand. Mostly, it was about the game he played at school with his friends, Dungeons and Dragons. He had tried to explain it to you several times, and most of it was easy enough to grasp, but he could talk on about it for ages, and it was almost as if he was pulling you into a trance of attention. Words would lose their meaning as you were too focused on Eddie himself. The sound of his voice and his movements– he always used his hands to emphasise what he said. And maybe it was for the better you didn't understand everything that was happening in the club.

Not that it mattered, anyway. It was nothing his little lamb should be worried about.

'Yeah, got to wait a bit, sweetheart. Patience is a virtue, isn't that what they always say? And believe me, if you wait a bit longer, it will be so worth it.'

'How long?' you already didn't want to wait. His featherlight touch had been enough to ignite a fire in you. But, unfortunately, it wasn't enough to subside whatever feeling was gnawing at you there. If anything, the memory of his touch only made it worse. You needed more.

'Not too long. I'll let you know when it's time, ok?' He started rubbing his hand over your arm. 'But you got to promise me one thing.'

'Of course.' Anything for Eddie. He knew what was best.

'Do not touch yourself there, ok? It might be difficult because you might not feel much better without it, but it will feel so wonderful in the end. I promise.' He made plenty of these kinds of promises and had held up to them every single time. That was another reason you trusted him; everyone else was simply wrong in their perceptions. An evil person would not keep to their promises as Eddie did.

Eddie cared

Deeply

About you.

So you listened to what he asked of you, nearly blindly.

The feeling inside of you grew much to your frustration, but you kept your promise to Eddie. The days went on rather slowly, not helping your problem, and neither did Eddie. His touches seemed to linger more than they used to. He was always at your side, keeping you close to him; that didn't change that much. But he would let his hands wander over your body.

Perhaps he was nervous about something, and the way he coped was to draw invisible shapes all over your body when he had his arms wrapped around you. He'd mumble to himself, little nonsense things you couldn't make out. He also got a bit forgetful; at lunchtime, he would forget to save you a seat, leading you to have to sit in his lap. Not that you minded. But what was a bit frustrating was how antsy he had gotten, letting his leg bouncing up and down. (What was he so nervous about?) Other times you wouldn't have minded, but how his jeans grazed over your sensitive and already frustrated core made you want to cry out.

'Eddie, could you maybe stop that? Please?' You looked up at him, trying to get rid of the lump in your throat.

'Sorry, baby,' He stopped, but the friction was just replaced by the hand he had put on your thigh. So many people were around you, all chatting and enjoying their free time out of class, yet there was only him for you. His big brown eyes sucked you into a place where it was just the two of you. So you weren't even embarrassed when he asked you: 'have are you feeling? Been a good little lamb for me?'

'Yes.' As if on cue, you couldn't help but rub your legs together, needing some kind of stimulus to keep you away from that burning feeling between your legs. It had been going on for days, only getting stronger, and you could do nothing about it.

Your action didn't escape Eddie's vision, and he was quick to pull your legs apart. However, his hand remained sturdily between them.

'Haven't been touching yourself?' He wasn't whispering or trying not to be heard, but no one was paying attention really anyway. But even if they had, you didn't care.

'No. Of course not.' He would ask you the same question each day, and each day you could happily respond. Even if every time it got harder and harder to do. 'But… Eddie–'

'Hmm?' he hummed, pushing some hair out of your face with the hand that had not settled over the warm gap between your thighs.

'I feel like it's just getting worse,' your voice was almost lost in the ocean of others, but he heard you, and he smiled softly as you continued. 'I don't know how much longer–' but that is where he cut you off.

'I know, baby. I know. But you're not ready yet, and we don't want all of this to go to waste, do we?' He looked you in the eyes until you shook your head in agreement; what you agreed to, however, was a bit vague. 'But it's not much longer anymore, and then just think of how good it will feel. Your reward will be grand.'

'Reward?' He had never even said anything about a reward.

'Oh, of course. My little lamb deserves a prize for behaving this well.' He squeezed you into a tight hug, pulling you in. You could feel his thumb press against your sensitive bud again for just a second, but you pushed aside the urge for more. He propped you up, helping you sit up better in his lap, but this again only made you feel his hand on you more prominently. His lips were nearly against your jaw when he spoke up again. 'How about you come over to my place later, and I'll try to help you with your problem, hmm? A… little taste of what's to come?'

'Are you sure?' You didn't want him to do anything that could end up hurting either of you. If he said, you weren't ready…

'Yeah, I can't have you walking around like this, all flustered. It's making all the other guys stare.'

'What?' This made you stiffen up a bit. Why were they all staring at you? Could they tell, see even, how enkindled you were? You hadn't thought so.

'Shh, it's alright. I'll take care of them. Don't you worry.' He would make sure you were safe, that much you knew. 'Meet me at the car later. I'll drive us home.' The bell for the next class would ring soon, and you wouldn't see Eddie until after school ended. Those were always the hardest times of the day, besides maybe when you were lying in bed alone, wishing he was with you to help you fall asleep and make that ache between your legs finally disappear.

The classes were almost impossible for you to get through, as all you could think of was Eddie. Minutes were passing by so slowly, that you wanted to scream. Was no one else upset about how time just did not seem to move forward? That could not be possible. But, then again, you were the only one irking to get out of there to meet Eddie in the parking lot.

You practically jump into his arms. The wind blew in your face, bringing his dark locks along and tickling your neck. He smelled like incense and his musky cologne. Someone like him should have something more bitter about him, you had thought at be beginning of your friendship, but Eddie was sweet. Not just in his actions, but in everything else around him. Because even with that smokey scent, mixed with his cologne, there was still a sweetness around him that you could not identify. It pulled you in, the familiarity of it, and yet you could never quite place it in your mind as to what it was.

Eddie's hand never left your body as he drove you to the trailer park. You loved when he drove his car, but it was also frustrating that his hand was all he could give you. His eyes were, of course, entirely concentrated on the road ahead, and you missed them.

Fortunately, the drive wasn't too long, and before you knew it, he led you out to his trailer, into the back of it, where his room was. It was messy, like most days, and there were things strewn about all over the place, which Eddie tried to sort out as he went along. He picked something up that looked like a long glass vase from next to his bed and put it in his closet.

'What was that?' you asked curiously as he sat down on the bed. You were still standing by the door.

'That? Oh, nothing, baby. Just c'mere.' He held out his hand for you to take once you had made your way over to him. You were ready to sit down, but Eddie pressed the palm of his other hand over your stomach, keeping you up. 'Hmm, no. Wait up.' He took both your hands in his, kissing your knuckles. 'Before we start, I need you to listen, really carefully, to me. I got to know you understand.'

Eddie rarely spoke in such a serious manner, so it made you a bit nervous. He held your hands tightly, and you stood between his spread legs. He looked up at you, almost with pleading eyes, as if he didn't know that you were already listening to him intently, taking in each word he gave you desperately, never wanting him to stop giving you his attention or time.

'I'm listening, Eddie, always,' you smiled, and he hugged out a little laugh.

'This is just really important to me,' he chuckled lightly again, 'I want to make you feel good, sweetheart, but I can't make that feeling that is bothering you go away just yet. It shouldn't go away just yet, because you're not ready, we're not ready… but we can do something to help with it; for now, does that sound alright?'

'Yes.' Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as he kissed your knuckles again.

'Good, come sit here,' he tapped onto his right thigh, and you sat down, but apparently not in the way he had meant for you to do, as he laughed. 'No, baby. Like this. Here.' He shuffled a bit back onto the bed and made you sit with your legs on either side of his, locking him in between you. He put his hand on your hip, pushing you into him. The material of your jeans pressed into you, releasing some of the tension that had been building up in you over the past few days. Then, with his guidance, you started moving your hips over his leg.

'Feels good, doesn't it?' Eddie asked, and you nodded your head quickly. 'Yeah, and it will only feel better the longer you keep doing it. Go a bit faster– that's it.'

'It– oh my- aah,' you gasped out at this foreign sensation that rushed through your body. 'Thank you,' the words came out with a heavy breath of air as you found your rhythm.

'You're very welcome, sweetheart. You've been doing so well for me, haven't you? Deserve a little treat.' Your faces were nearly at the same level with you on his lap, and his mouth ghosted over yours. You could feel it there, not even an inch apart, but he couldn't– no matter how much he wanted to kiss your perfect lips, they would remain untouched for now. But it wouldn't be long anymore. Soon, he would make all this wait worthwhile.

'Keep going as long as you want, baby,' the sight of you pleasuring yourself on his thigh made him short circuit, but he had to keep his mind clear.

'It feels–' you didn't know how to describe the feeling that started to overcome you. You were tensing up again. Suddenly the release you felt from this friction didn't feel as satisfying anymore. It was urging you on to keep going, to tense that tight feeling in you until it snapped, but it was getting worse. Finally, you had to squeeze your eyes shut. 'Eddie!'

'Woah, Woah, Woah.' He halted your hips tightly. 'Stop.'

'What-' you were confused, not sure what had happened. The tight feeling in your gut loosened, but the satisfaction you had felt also reclined.

'You were close, weren't you?' He asked, and you weren't entirely sure what he meant by "close", but somehow, on a deeper level, you knew that that is what you had felt, and so nodded a bit meekly. Eddie nodded along in understanding. 'See, you're not ready for that yet, baby. So if you feel it again, you got to tell me and stop, got it? If you feel that tightness coming, do not keep going. It can be too much for you right now, I don't want you to ger hurt.'

'I get it,' a lump formed in your throat again.

'Alright. Do you want to do it again?' He squeezed your hips, and you bit your lip. You did want to keep going, as it did feel amazing when you could release some of that tension your body had built up. Eddie just wanted to help you; it wasn't his fault that he couldn't get rid of this hollow feeling inside you. He did everything he could to make you feel as good as possible. He let you writhe over his leg for an eternity, replaying the cycle of your pleasure, letting you inch toward that unattainable high. Every time you felt the knot in your stomach, you would gasp out his name, and he would hold you still. It was torture you brought upon yourself to keep going over and over again, but it felt so good. It didn't matter that you could never actually get it to completion. That initial feeling of bliss compensated for the pain of unfulfillment.

'You're so good for me. My sweet little lamb, always listens so well.' Even if there was nothing to inherently pleasure Eddie, he still felt fantastic. Seeing you like this made him feel like never before, and to see you obey his requests as you did… it was pure euphoria.

Tears were stinging your eyes, but he was quick to brush them away, right at the corners of your eyes. You could not possibly go on much longer. Your grip on his shoulder weakened, and your hips started jutting forward haphazardly, exhausted.

'Eddie,' you gasped out a final time; you didn't even have energy left in you to reach that edge anymore. Your body shut down as you fell forward into Eddie. He fell back, holding on to you as his back hit the mattress.

'Did so good, baby. So good.' He held you tightly as you caught your breath. You were shaking, so he grabbed the covers and pulled them over you.

'I– thank you.' You nuzzled deeper into his hold. No words were exchanged for a while. His arms stayed wrapped around you, caressing your back gently as the seconds on the clock ticked by.

'How are you feeling?' He eventually asked, whispering, in case you had fallen asleep on top of him. But you answered, voice weak and tired:

'I'm alright.' Everything was still spinning a bit; you couldn't quite tell up from down. The only thing grounding you was Eddie. He started to draw more random shapes over your back, mumbling nothings to himself, and you were ready to doze off. Peace was coming over you. Then his voice turned up a bit louder as he spoke directly to you.

'I'm so proud of you.' It was still a whisper, but his voice vibrated through his throat.

'Thank you, Eddie.'

'Mmm, did so good, you know what?' He kissed your forehead. 'How about we go to the mall tomorrow. Get you something nice?'

Your head shot up in the excitement, and you looked into his eyes. 'Is– that my reward?'

'No, I just want to spoil you,' he chuckled, petting your hair flat, 'Your reward will be so much better. Just you wait.' He rolled over to his side, taking you along so you'd fall onto the mattress beside him. 'Want me to take you home?' He asked, and you had nodded yes, and maybe had even said it, but your eyelids were so heavy, and you were so tired, that soon sleep came over you, and you had never felt quite as peaceful as you had in his arms.

Eddie not once thought of letting you go. He did what he had to do to keep you close and safe.

His pure and innocent little lamb.

All his.

✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮✮

The next day, he did indeed take you shopping. It was a lovely day full of sunshine, and he held your hand as you walked past stores. Even if you hadn't realised it, he already had something in mind he wanted to get you, and it just so happened to be at one store you frequented.

He watched you go through the racks of clothing and smiled anytime he caught your eye. He had to pull you back. Otherwise, you would have missed the one thing he had wanted you to see.

'How about this one?' He picked a dress up from the hanger. It was a long and flowy white summer dress. You furrowed your brows, not having expected that to be his choice of outfit for you. It was neither his nor your style, yet he handed it to you with plenty of enthusiasm.

'Are you sure?' You asked, watching him nod his head adamantly.

'You'll look gorgeous, I can already tell.' he pressed the dress against you, looking at how it would look on you. 'Wanna go and try it on?'

'Yeah, of course,' you smiled, and the next thing you knew, Eddie was opening up the door to a dressing room for you. He hung the dress on a hook next to the mirror and closed the door behind him. He said he would be right there if you needed anything, and you knew it was true. He would be sitting right there in one of the fuzzy chairs, waiting for you to come out and spin around for him.

But unfortunately, the zipper in the back of the dress was not as easy to pull up as you thought, so you called out his name. Not a second later, Eddie popped his head inside the little room, eyes closed for your decency.

'It's alright, Eds,' you giggled, 'you can look. I just can't get the zipper up.'

'Ah, well, let me,' he came up to you, and his hands were on the small of your back, holding the two sides of the dress together so he could pull the zipper up. It was cold against your skin, and Eddie moved extremely slowly, not wanting to accidentally snag the fabric or get your hair caught in it. He pulled it all the way up and smoothed out the dress at your sides, not that you thought it had been that wrinkled. You had been facing the mirror, so he put his head on your shoulder to look along with you.

'Absolutely beautiful.' He whispered, imitating the confined intimacy of the dressing room. Your cheeks heated up at the compliment, but also because you did actually feel beautiful wearing the dress. It fitted perfectly, wrapping around your body at every angle. It was light, comfortable, soft… just the white colour felt slightly off for you. Eddie noticed this apprehension in your face. 'What's wrong, sweetheart?'

'I'm just not so sure about white. It doesn't really feel like me, does it?'

'Thought you might want to try something new. And just look how good it looks on you.' Then, with a finger under your chin, he made you look in the mirror again, 'An angel.'

'Oh, Eddie,' you swung around to hug him. 'Thank you.' you mumbled the words against his chest.

'Anything for you, baby.' His hand moved up and down over your back.

After the dress shopping, the two of you walked around, with no real goal or destination in mind. The presence of each other was more than enough. But as the day went on, you couldn't help but feel down. Eddie had done so much for you over time, especially in the recent days; you wanted to repay him somehow. Show him that you cared for him just as much as he cared about you. Did he even know that you would do anything for him? You hoped so.

You kept on thanking him as the day went on, which only made him laugh. The message had been quite clear after the first three times, and now it was becoming almost excessive. But he could never complain either, loving how much you appreciated him, but enough was enough. Surely.

'I just wish I could do something in return.'

'You really don't need to.' He cupped your face in the palm of his hand.

'But I want to.' You persisted. 'There must be something I could do for you.'

'Not that I can think of, but if anything comes up, I will let you know.' And that was that. You didn't want to press on the matter; why nag on a little thing like that, ruin what would be a lovely day? So, you went and had coffee at a café on Main Street, where Eddie again demanded to pay the bill, and then he drove you back home. Only when the car stopped in front of your driveway did you realise that this had been the longest time you had ever spent with Eddie: Almost an entire day. And it had also been one of the best days ever. Not because of how he had spoiled you– you couldn't care less about that stuff– but because you had not once stopped smiling. With him, you felt like you were on cloud nine, seventh heaven, paradise, and you never wanted it to stop.

'What are you doing tomorrow?' you asked hopefully. It would be a Sunday then, and like most Sundays, you would have nothing to do. Eddie tapped the steering wheel.

'I got some things to take care of. Nothing too exciting.' Perhaps he saw your deflated expression. 'We'll hang out another time, yeah? I'll see you at school.' If you had been two different people, you would have leaned in and kissed goodbye, but instead, Eddie cupped your face again and tapped your cheek lightly with his hand. You did lean into his touch, not wanting it to leave you, but it always did at some point.

'I'll miss you.' You pouted, which he mimicked.

'And I'll miss you too, but this thing– it's really important. I can't miss it, and it will most likely take me the whole day–'

'Why don't I help you?' You interrupted as the idea jumped to your mind. 'Then we can still spend time together and maybe you might even finish sooner.'

'Oh, you don't want to–'

'But I do,' you persisted. This was your chance. You could finally prove to Eddie how much he meant to you.

'Are you sure?' Eddie raised his brow inquisitively. You nodded your head once but very clearly, indicating your standpoint. He couldn't get rid of you even if he tried. He knew it too, as seen through the deep sigh he took, but he was smiling. Your persistence was adorable.

'Ok, fine. Do you know where the Creel House is?'

'The creepy old boarded-up building?' Yeah, you knew the Creel House. Everyone in town did. Everyone had heard the story of what had happened there all those years ago, and it still made you feel uncomfortable to think about it.

'I'll see you there at 5, ok? Wear the pretty dress we got today, too. I can't get enough of you in it.' And this time, he did lean in to kiss your cheek. Or, almost your cheek. It had been where he had intended for his lips to touch you, but it had only missed your own lips by less than an inch. The kiss was also just like all the other formalities. It probably lasted less than a second but left you wanting more. That warm feeling in your body resurfaced, much to your dismay. After yesterday, you had hoped it would stay hidden a bit longer, but apparently, one tiny featherlight kiss on the apple of your cheek was enough for it to come back up.

'Who knows,' Eddie took your hand, 'maybe tomorrow will be the day, too.'

'You mean–' you looked up at him with wide eyes.

'We'll see. Now go, sweetheart.' He left you thinking about it for the entire night. Were you finally ready? Would this unbearable ache in your pit finally disappear? You hoped so. You were jittery with excitement about the next day. You could barely sleep, even though you knew Eddie wouldn't appreciate that (he always needed you to be well rested). And then the morning came, and you couldn't get a bite of your breakfast down your throat as you jumped in your seat from anticipation. You knew it was silly, but after all this time, you finally got a chance to show Eddie everything. And you had waited for weeks to touch yourself, and it was as if your body could tell that the waiting time was almost over.

It was almost over; you told yourself as you made your way to the house. You were too early; you knew that, but better too early than too late. Maybe Eddie would already be there, and then… that is when you realised you actually had no idea what you were coming into the house for. What did he want you to do there?

A harsh wind blew, pulling at the hem of your dress, which you had to hold not to let the street see your backside. The steps to the porch creaked under your footsteps, and the door you knew was once covered in wooden boards was now broken open. The beautiful stained-glass window was broken into shards, with a large hole in the middle– exactly where the rose used to bloom daily.

'Hello?' You called out as you stepped inside. The temperature immediately seemed to drop, and the air had a moist hint, thick with dust flying around you. Footsteps were coming from upstairs.

'Baby?' It was Eddie, and the sound of his voice immediately made all your worries go away.

'Yes! It's me!' You wanted to tread the stairs, a large and eccentric staircase, but Eddie showed up at the top of it. His hair was fastened up with his black bandana. You had imagined he would appreciate your early arrival, but a grimace covered his face instead.

'You're early. I told you 5.' The old clock in the back of the hallway still clicked away and pointed to ten minutes to five, so you weren't that early.

'I'm sorry. I walked faster than I expected.'

'It's alright, just– just wait here. I'm almost ready.' Oh, was he setting something up for you? A surprise? Your reward? It brought back all these fluttery feelings in your stomach.

You could hear Eddie shuffling around the upper floor, right above you. He was walking up and down the room, carrying things around. You wanted to go up and help him, but since he had told you to wait– you waited. Five minutes went by, ten, fifteen, and you were getting restless at the bottom of these tall stairs. With each creak in the floorboards, you hoped Eddie would appear again.

That only happened a bit later, when you glanced up and saw him walk out of a dark room. He grinned down at you, and your body screamed to run up those stairs, but again, you waited for him to let you.

'C'mere, I want to show you something.' And that is how you eagerly made your way upstairs finally. Eddie waited at the top step and watched how your dress flowed with your movements. Truly angelic, if such things existed. Holding you by the hand, he led you into the room he had just come out of.

All the large windows were plastered shut, covered with wooden planks or plastic tarps, and while that should have made the room pitch black, you could still see everything inside clearly. That is because Eddie had set up candles all over the surfaces near the large bed that stood in the middle of the room. The orange flames gave the room a warm glow, and it must have been the most romantic thing you had ever seen.

'Is this for me?' you glanced over at him, still in awe and shock. He laughed at this lightheartedly, squeezing your hand. It must have taken him hours to prepare all of this, but it was so worth it, you could tell him. The atmosphere brought to the room was fantastical, otherworldly.

Eddie led you to the centre of the room, where the candles on the ground were positioned in a circular shape, with just enough space for you to stand.

'You look beautiful, y/n,' Eddie spoke in a hushed whisper. 'Divine. My little lamb.' He pushed the hair out of your face again. Why did it always get in the way? Such a gorgeous face should not be covered up with anything, which is why he was glad you hadn't put on make-up today. You were standing in front of him in your purest form. The white dress accentuated it. 'You know why you're here, don't you?'

'Because you asked me to?' you spoke, voice shaking for some reason. The fire of the candles flickered on. In the dim light, you could make out some kind of graffiti painted on the walls, strange symbols you did not recognise.

'Yes, but I meant, why I asked you to come here.' The entire house had been left in its original state, never emptied out after the original owners had… left it. This meant that the old bedroom still had all its furnishings around. The bed was behind you, but you could also see a dresser and an armchair in the corner. Eddie walked up to the dresser and picked something up. Long, thin, the silver reflecting the golden flame light–

'Eddie?' You wanted to step back at the sight of the sharp knife but remembered the candles positioned all around you. 'What- what are you doing?'

'It's ok, baby. I'm not going to hurt you,' Eddie smiled kindly. He toyed with the sharp tip of the blade, twirling it against his hand. 'I would never hurt you. You know that, right?' You did know this, so you didn't bother to back away when he came closer. Eyes remained locked, ignoring the fire, the symbols, and the blade. There was just you and him. 'You know that, right?' Eddie repeated his question, to which you nodded. But he needed you to say it and hear your voice.

'Yes.' He only wanted what's best for you, to protect you. But, of course, he would never do you any harm.

'Good. Really, sweetheart, you don't know how happy I am I found you– you're so– you're just so perfect.' His perfect little lamb. All his. You couldn't tell if the heat burning inside you came from the candles or his words. 'You have always listened so well, always been so good. And you'll keep being good, won't you?'

'Mhm.' The power of longer words escaped you. Eddie cupped your cheek in his hand, patting it gently.

'Because I really need you to listen and do as I say, baby. This is really important to me.'

'But-' you pushed the words out, 'what are you doing?' You still couldn't quite make sense of the things around you. But Eddie smiled at your question, as if he had been expecting it, had wanted you to ask. Your hair was poking from behind your ears again, sticking at your cheek, which he brushed off. He could cut it right off with the knife in his hand– he always thought you would look prettier in shorter hair, it would frame your face so nicely– but it would probably not be appreciated. Maybe one day, if he asked nicely if you would still have him after today.

Of course, you would.

'We're going to heal the world, sweetheart.' He smiled his big gorgeous smile, but you were too caught up in his words. 'Restore the order of life, make everything wrong right again– you want to help me with that, don't you?'

'Well, yes, but–' the fire was heating up the room quickly, and you could feel it on your skin. The knife in Eddie's hand kept reflecting the light, making you look at it, but each time you would, Eddie would press his fingers into your cheek so you would find his eyes again.

'You don't have to be scared; I'm not going to hurt you. I need you to trust me, y/n.' The way your name flowed out of his lips, so smooth and sweet, you felt terrible just for having a thought of doubt ever sour mind. But even if you told yourself not to be scared, he did see that fear in your eyes. It was frustrating to see, because how many times could he comfort you? What would it take for you to understand him? Finally, he moved, turned slightly to the side, and the cold blade hit your arm. It did not cut or hurt, but it made you flinch.

'Eddie–' your voice was so weak, nothing like he was used to.

'Can I tell you a story?' He watched you nod your head. ''Humanity is a pest, y/n. We are poisoning our world with this structure and order, depending on these vices as if we were not the ones who had created them in the first place– there is nothing structural about us! We live our days just waiting for them to be over, numbing ourselves and telling lies to make it feel like it means something while it is entirely useless. It is hard to find a pure soul out there, yet… here you are.

'Me?' you couldn't possibly imagine why you would have anything to do with this. 'I don't understand–'

'You are at the centre of it all. My sweet sweet little lamb, fresher than fallen snow on a meadow. You are the prime example of what we all could be, a special gift. He sent you to me.' He had been gaining more and more energy and enthusiasm through his speech

'He?' You were starting to feel silly, being able to only respond with more questions and poorly phrased ones at that.

'Vecna,' he breathed out the word in a hush. You had heard him say the name before, but you had never questioned it, figuring it had just been one of the endless characters in his game. Eddie's eyes were bigger than you had ever seen them as he kept on talking passionately. 'He spoke to me, showed me everything. He was the one that made me realise just what a cruel and messed up world this is– and– and I'm not the only one. The people that lived here that died here… You know why they died, don't you? It had all been a part of this plan, you see. A… an offering. They gave their lives subject to a higher power. It was all for a greater cause.

'But they had not meant to die, it all just went so horribly wrong. They didn't know what they were doing, the Creels. But I do! Vecna told me and showed me everything I had to do in order to make this work. I've spent months making sure everything will go right, and you are the key. I need you to do this, y/n. Please.' In the time that you had met Eddie, you had seen a lot of sides to him. You had seen him be happy, sad, angry, tired, hyper, everything between and around it, but this was new. As he spoke to you, he almost seemed desperate. He was shaking with his words, purely out of the need to get his words out, for you to hopefully understand what he was trying to do.

The presence of the cold blade didn't get lost to you anymore, as you could feel it with every breath you took, pressing against your stomach with its flat side. You looked deeply into Eddie's eyes, trying to figure out what his intentions were with it, with you. Surely, he would not actually hurt you? That wasn't him. You could not imagine Eddie, your Eddie, doing such things as your scared mind was conjuring up at the moment.

'You wanted to help me, didn't you? This would be the most wonderful thing you could ever do for me, y/n. It would be glorious. Just think about it, when it works, the life we will have together. Vecna will show you, help you as well. You just have to let him, let me.'

Let me guide you, my little lamb.

Let me help you, my sweetheart.

Let me use you.

He needed you. Truly needed you, and only you. You stood there, in your white dress, surrounded by the golden flames of the melting candles, Eddie just far enough not to press his body into yours. As he waited for an answer, maybe bored or nervous, he started tracing the knife over you. The tip of it pinched at your skin, teasing, over your arm up to your collarbone, down your sternum. It had hagged on the strap of the dress, and you had been sure he would have snapped it right off. It would have probably been enough for the whole dress to fall apart. It would pool at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your underwear in front of him. The thought of it should be flooding you with fear, but to your surprise– it excited you. All of it did, in fact.

'What- what do you need me to do?' You pushed down the lump forming in your throat, but you didn't need much force for it as it dissolved at the sight of Eddie's relieved grin. He kissed the top of your head, the blade in the same hand he brushed your hair with, so you felt the steel at your ear. It made you shiver. You could hear him whisper some more of those little words he always mumbled, still unable to make any sense out of them. Then, he made you leave the circle of candles and walked you to the side of the room, where the symbols were painted onto the wall. It is then that you noticed that the black paint was still wet in spots, freshly applied, but long enough to have already dried up for the most part.

'Give me your hand,' he asked of you, and you eagerly obliged, placing your hand over his palm. But then he pulled that knife up again, and you flinched, which made him visibly upset with a frown.

'I'm sorry,' you apologised before he had even said anything.

'I understand, baby, all of this is new, but you have nothing to fear. I'm here, and I've always made sure you're safe, didn't I? Right, so you know you can trust me. Look–' he put up his own hand, flat in front of you, and dragged the sharp knife over the skin, breaking it from the centre of his palm, right to the edge. The blood immediately started to spill out, colouring his pale skin crimson. But what you focused on was how he had not winced, not twitched, barely moved a muscle as the blade penetrated his outer layer. His eyes had been focused on the cut, just to glance up at you momentarily, to ensure you were looking at him. He wiped the knife on his shirt, letting the cut drip out onto the wooden panels of the floor. 'See? It doesn't even hurt.' Then he wiped his hand on his t-shirt, smearing the blood all over it. With the small and shallow cut, it would dry up in a few minutes. There was really nothing to be scared of. Eddie never wanted to hurt you. He just wants what's best for you– what's best for everyone. Just like he had said: restore the world order, make what's wrong right again.

So, you held your hand out, steady. But as much as you trusted him, you couldn't get yourself to look as he pressed the blade into you. It stung as it moved over your palm.

'Open your eyes,' Eddie told you. You were greeted with dark red stains on your hand when you did. It was already pooling in the small cup of your manus, dripping between your fingers. It stung as if he had kept on cutting, even though you had heard him put the knife away. It was lying untouched on the set of vintage drawers now.

Eddie's next words were another request, as he guided your fingers to close in over your palm. 'Squeeze it.' And he pushed your fingers closed. You yelped at the shooting pain that came from it. The indentation splurged for more blood to come out. You saw flashes of white in front of your eyes as Eddie pressed it harder.

'You see it, don't you?' He asked you eagerly. You nodded, keeping your tears at bay. You didn't want him to see you cry, not when you didn't even mean to. It was just sort of happening.

Then, Eddie pulled you a step forward, pressing your bloody hand against the wall. This again pulled a wince out of you. It was so sensitive, and he pressed it so hard. He needed the blood to make its mark. He used you like a paintbrush, adding strokes of red over the black, making new symbols out of the already existing ones, finishing what he had started.

'Look how great this looks. And it could only be you, to make it all work. Only someone as pure and innocent as you has that kind of power.' He had everything prepared in advance, so when he dropped your hand from the wall, he reached for a towel that he had also placed on that dresser earlier. He pressed it into your hand, applying the right kind of pressure this time to hopefully stop the blooding rather than encourage its continuation. He took care of you, just like any other day, showing you that he was still your Eddie after all. There was nothing to be scared of.

'Is this it?' You looked up at him, the towel still wrapped around your hand. His sympathies peaked through the corners of his lips.

'Not just yet, baby. There's one more thing, but this we can do together, and I promise you'll enjoy it much more than this.'

'What is it?'

'You already started the cleansing process, but we have to show Him that we mean our loyalty, and for that, a sacrifice is needed– just a small one, don't be scared,' he hushed, taking the towel away. 'And don't be nervous. I know you will do well; I made sure of it. That's why we waited. Had to know you would be able to handle it, but you're ready now.' That funny feeling in the pit of your stomach emerged again, covering your body in a flash of heat. It was that frustrating sensation you just could not get rid of that even Eddie could not help you with… but now you were ready. So what the two of you did in his bedroom last Friday… the cycle would be complete. There would be no more torture and pleading for a release. He could bring you to it, finally.

'You're ready now.' Eddie didn't show it, as he repeated his last words, but he was conflicted about it all. It broke him to see you lose some of that innocence, but it had to be done, and it was an honour that he would be the one to do it. Better him, who understood the value of your purity, rather than some boy who would use you for his own pleasure. In a way, he was doing this to protect you, too. By letting you join him in his venture, he was ensuring safety for you. He would protect you. Vecna will protect you.

But for this, he actually had to make you his.

Again, holding your hand, he led you through the room. Avoiding the candles spread out over the floor, he got you to stand next to the bed. Both your hands were sticky with drying blood. The cut still burned when he squeezed at your hand, but neither of you showed any signs of discomfort.

He wondered if once this was all over, your eyes would still be full of the innocence he was so enamoured by. Would you still look at him with this naive bewilderment, or would he ruin you completely? If so, that would be his sacrifice. He would give up the pleasure of the sight for the sake of the greater good, naturally.

This would then perhaps be the last time you looked at him this way, so he would have to cherish it to the fullest extent. He let his fingers draw down your face, caressing the soft apples of your cheeks. Finally, his thumb moved over your chin, barely touching your bottom lip. How long he had needed to feel it, touch all of you, but held back. Now he finally could, though.

Too immersed in his deep brown eyes, you didn't see what was happening around them. You only heard him pull something out of his pocket– material. It was a handkerchief. But not the black skull he would wear often around the school. This one was white, like your dress. However, it was quickly getting tainted by the pink of the last remaining blood that could still transfer from his hands. How you had not noticed it on him before was a bit silly.

The material was smooth and pleasant to the touch, warm, as Eddie pulled it over your face. The metallic scent of blood wavered over it; no one could tell whether it was his or yours. Eddie tied it behind your head, making sure your eyes were covered, and just like that, you were enveloped in darkness.

'By taking away one sense,' he whispered into your ear, 'all the others get heightened. It is an experience like no other, to submit yourself to the elements. An honour. Now– ah.' He hadn't even needed to ask you anything, as when his thumb fell over your bottom lip, your mouth immediately parted, like an impulse, to let him enter. He pressed the finger over your tongue and watched you suck on it desperately. This was it—the first touch. Just like that, one simple act had already been enough to corrupt you.

'Sit down. On your knees. There we go, so good for me.' If he hadn't known better, if he hadn't made sure you never lied to him about what you have or have not done, he wouldn't have assumed you had experience, that you knew exactly what you were doing. That his little lamb was, in fact, just a whore like everyone else. But no, of course, you weren't. He had prepared you for this moment, let out what was only in your nature already. It was the right thing to submit to his touch like this.

But eventually, after a few seconds, he had to pull his hand away from you. The action came unexpectedly, and you were ready to follow him, even though you couldn't see where he had moved to. You tried your best trying to figure out what was happening, using those other heightened senses to their fullest potential. You could hear the flickering of the flames around you, and the burning smell came with it, which was still not strong enough to cover up the musky scent of Eddie, how the wooden floor dug at your knees, even through the fabric of your dress. And even though you could not see him, you could feel his presence towering over you.

It didn't matter how much you tried to focus on your surroundings; nothing would have prepared you for Eddie grabbing you by your chin to pull your face up, hollowing your already open mouth into a perfect little O-shape. Next thing you know, you heard a strange noise and felt something wet touch your mouth, spill into it. The sensation made you squirm, no idea what it was that Eddie had just done. You didn't know what to do.

'C'mon, baby. You know what to do when you have something in your mouth. Swallow.' He shut your mouth with his grip on it, helping you take the spit– because that's what it is, you realised– down your throat. He hummed in satisfaction through your whimpers. 'It's ok, baby. This is all a part of it. Got to get used to each other, it's all bonding.' He wanted to be closer to you, connected, and that idea warmed your heart. The way his hands then brushed over your hair, you nearly mewled into the touch.

Trying to position him was difficult, as he seemed to walk circles around you, his lips filled with those mysterious words and mumblings again. If you could see now, you would have stared at the ground or the hands you had placed over your lap. His flavour was still in your mouth, and it felt strange, but not in the wrong way.

He had walked another circle around you before stopping at your back. You felt the tension on the dress as he pulled at one of the straps, letting it slide down your shoulder. Then the other. Eddie undid the zipper from behind you as slowly as he had pulled it up the day before in the dressing room. Except for this time, you were not wearing a bra underneath it. It wasn't the kind of dress that would really work with one, you had thought in the morning. It certainly wouldn't look pretty, with the undergarment straps visible, and you wanted to look nice when seeing Eddie… so, that is how you ended up sitting on the floor in this old house, hands on your lap as Eddie pulled the dress off of your top half, revealing your breasts to the hot air.

'So beautiful.' he said, mumbling something under his breath again. 'Absolutely beautiful. He let his hand wander over to your chest, toying with the nipples, taking turns in giving attention to them. To think he was the first person to have the pleasure to touch you like this. To make you arch your back with just a simple pinch– oh, and the sounds that fell from your lips as he pulled at them, he started to feel the constraint of his jeans. Stand up.

Your legs were already sore from the position you had been sitting in, and they trembled as you got up. The dress fell off your legs, down to the ground as you did. You stepped out of it, accidentally kicking it to the side. A bitter smell erupted from somewhere in the room like the smoke was getting stronger.

'What is that?'

'Nothing,' Eddie's calm tone had wavered for a moment, or so it seemed his following words were just as smooth and charming as before. 'Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about. Just, c'mere,' It would have been difficult for you to do that with the blindfold in front of your eyes, but he had reached out with his hands to you.

And then, his lips were on yours. They were chapped as always, feeling a bit rough compared to how soft yours were. He tasted like the cigarettes he smokes when you aren't around, combined with another bitter flavour you couldn't place. It was soo much to take in, your senses all going into overdrive trying to keep up with him. You didn't know what to do with yourself, so you stood still, letting your lips move accordingly to how his did. But he kissed you with such an urgency, such hunger and vigour; you could hardly keep up.

It was messy and left your head spinning, nothing like you had actually expected your first kiss to be, but it was still perfect, as it was with Eddie.

You were now completely naked, standing in this attic room filled with candles; Eddie was holding on to your sides, kissing your neck. Each time his lips left your skin, it didn't even matter as you could still feel him on you. The trace he left behind was sloppy and needy and seeking out the weak spot on your neck so you could roll your head back in pleasure. All of these feelings were so new to you, so overwhelming, but you understood why Eddie wanted you to wait, why you had to be ready for this… and it was only the beginning.

Perhaps Eddie got a bit over-excited, for he suddenly picked you up off the ground, hands around your thighs. The suddenness made you scream out. You were utterly disorientated as he took a few stops and then dropped you down onto the bed. It could not have been a drop of more than a foot, but your stomach twisted. The mattress creaked loudly underneath you, but didn't continue as Eddie had not joined you in the bed just yet. So you lay there, waiting for whatever would come next– which was that Eddie had grabbed you by the hand and pulled you across to the head of the bed. A shriek left your lips. It would have been better if he had told you what he would be doing. The constant uncertainty of it all made your brain whirl.

And then he took your other hand, before you could even say something and gripped both your wrists tightly.

'Eddie, what–' you felt the cold metal against your skin and the faint clink of something locking. When he released your arms, you wanted to pull them away from what you assumed was the headboard, but you could barely move anymore.

'Remember those handcuffs that always hang in my room,' Eddie had leaned down beside the bed to be at your level. As you could not see anything, you kept your head straight up, directed at the ceiling. Your breathing got heavier, the constraints confusing you, but Eddie had his reasons. 'It might all get a bit too much for you at a certain point, so this will help you keep grounded. And a physical restraint helps us as a reminder that we should restrict ourselves in indulgences, the things that only break us more. We do not want to get carried away, so this will help, I promise. Just trust me.' He kissed your cheek, which felt wet for some reason. His thumb brushed over the same spot his lips had just met, and then, for a short time that felt like an eternity, there was nothing. Eddie had moved to another part of the room; you could still hear him, walking, shuffling around, mumbling his usual incoherent phrases to himself. You tried to listen to them, finally trying to make out what he was saying, but it was too soft of a whisper that ended too close to his mouth.

'My little lost sheep has finally found her way,' he said when he came back, the weight on the bed shifted, 'I have done my best guiding you towards this point, y/n, have done anything I could to protect you, to make sure you ended up here, where you belong. Now, you have to tell me, make the final decision– do you want this?'

'Yes.' You wanted him. He had been gone far too long, and you were already missing his touch. The anticipation was building inside you, coming together at your centre, burning with a need for him. You had thought that hunger and thirst that had been torturing you over the past weeks, the one Eddie had told you to ignore, that it had died down after the little help he had given you, but it was all coming back ten times worse. Something in you was eating you alive, and you couldn't lay still anymore, closing your legs, trying to get some kind of friction from the movement of rubbing them together, trying to find an angle at which some kind of relief would come out.

'Should have brought something to tie those pretty legs down as well. Stop, please.' He placed his hand over your thigh, rubbing circles over it slowly, 'you're gonna hurt yourself, moving like that.' So, you did stop, both the wiggling of your legs and tugging at the cuffs in frustration. His touch on your leg got rougher as he spread your legs wide open, revealing you to him.

'Yes, there is no doubt about it, sweetheart. You are ready.' He said voice laced with something that you had never really heard before in Eddie– pure lust. So ready, and he touched you. Right there, between your legs, this time with no panties or jeans to keep you apart, you felt his calloused fingers slide right over your slit. He moved his hand up and down, stroking lightly, and with each lap, he would add a bit more pressure, letting his fingers slip past your folds but not entering you quite yet.

You moaned; you didn't whimper, mewl or giggle. You moaned out his name. He had broken you now. Unsealed you. He was going to make you his.

His little lamb.

His fingers started moving faster, slipping inside you now and then, teasing. But you took it all so well, taking anything he gave you with the most gratitude. It was all so new, so much all at once; even a tease of his fingers was enough to make you see stars. He broke your barrier, broke you; there was no going back now that his fingers were deep inside you. Each time shooting up sparks through your body, letting you revel in it. You pulled at the handcuffs again, not because you needed to get out of them, but because you felt the urge to react somehow, and this was the only thing you could do. Hands tied up in the metal, legs spread out, and hips pushed down by Eddie's grip, you were stuck in a prison of delectation.

As his fingers continued making you feel ecstatic, he kissed your thighs over and over again. A sweet and haste peppering of his lips at your sensitive skin, hot and needy for both of you. When he pulled his fingers away from you, you could hear a smacking sound, followed by a hum.

'You know what you taste like, sweetheart?'

'No?' you could not say that had ever been something you thought about, but now that he had subjected the question, you were eager to find out.

'You taste like the sweetest nectar,' he kissed your stomach, 'Perfect and pure.' He could not get enough of your authenticity, your unadulterated and untouched body. It still hurt him to think that it would not last much longer, this vestal beauty and glow that seemed to radiate off you, but something so much better would come. Just you wait and see…

Eddie started repeating his little phrases anew as the kisses continued, and, this time, you could hear his mumbled words more clearly, each syllable emphasised with a breath of hot air against your core. The exact meaning of the words might have escaped you, but it did not stop them from sounding like what it was. A prayer, a blessing, finished with his sigh of "Hail Lord Vecna" in almost a whisper, before delving between your legs and kissing you there passionately.

The scream had not meant to come out, as the only thing you felt was a foreign pleasure. It was just a heavy shock to the system. Never before had you felt something like that.

Eddie's tongue pressed deeper into you, dipping at your sweetest spot, licking at your arousal. Before this, the handcuffs had not felt much like a nuisance, but you understood it now. All you wanted to do was to grab Eddie by the hair, pull it, show him how good it made you feel– but it could be distracting. It could pull him out of his concentration, ruin his whole plan, everything he had worked so hard on.

Yes, he had prepared, as he knew exactly what he was doing, reaching your desired spots, kissing you in a way you never expected a kiss to feel. You were glad he didn't tell you to keep quiet, because it did not seem to be a possible task. Moans kept leaving your mouth constantly.

'Eddie! Oh my–' your eyes rolled back, hips bucked up, which Eddie quickly pushed back down. But, to your horror, he pulled away from you entirely, and if you could see him, you would have seen his eyes, now almost as dark as a starless night, stare at you.

'It's not me you should be thanking,' he kissed your pelvis before whispering another "hail Lord Vecna".

'Hail Lord Vecna,' you repeated after him, but much breathier.

'Yes, good, sweetheart. Say it again, Louder. He will be so happy to hear your voice say his name.' he encouraged.

'Hail Lord Vecna,' you dared to say it, and Eddie supported it with a new kiss toward your clit. Then, with each repeat of the phrase, he extended it and kissed you longer and deeper until he was back to eating you out completely.

Hail

Lord

Vecna

Not long after, the feeling came back, except ten times harder, as if you had already been circling around it for hours. Again, the knot in your stomach tightened. It was coming closer and closer–

But Eddie pulled away again, at which you mewled out.

'No, please, please,' you whined, much to his amusement. Eddie started making his way up again, hands on either side of you, leaving kisses all over your body, his metal necklace chain trailing behind until he reached your lips once more. His chin was wet with your juices, and you could taste yourself on him as he kissed you. A flavour that turned your stomach, but Eddie's hands were still on you, kneading and squeezing at thighs and hips, and then he pulled the blindfold off of you. It was dimly dark in the room, but you still had to get used to the light of the candles. Most of them had already started burning out.

Eddie hovered above you, the white handkerchief in his mouth before he spat it out next to you. His hair fell down his face, the tips tickling at your collarbone and neck. All you wanted to do was to brush your hair through it, but you couldn't move your arms more than an inch away from the ornate headboard.

'Eddie,' you whimpered, tugging at the handcuffs again. He just smiled and leaned in to kiss you again. That's when you noticed he had also taken off his clothes. You were both naked, piled on top of each other, in the most intimate and compromising position a person could find themselves in.

Your heart was beating faster and faster, pushing against your chest, drumming in your ears. This was it. This is what everything had been leading up to. The moment Eddie had been preparing you for. The climax of his plan.

He kissed you once more, tenderly.

'This might hurt, baby, but it should. It will be a good pain. The best feeling you've ever felt, so don't be scared, ok? It's all going to be ok.' He spoke with his eyes locked on yours; you were dazed and confused, unsure what he was talking about. You had already felt so good, couldn't possibly imagine something that would feel even better.

But then the pain did come. There where his fingers, and his tongue, had been, and now you felt something stretch you out on the inside. Eddie pushed inside you, ripping you open, stretching you out.

'Eddie!' You tugged at the handcuffs, but they didn't budge just like before.

'Shh, this is good. It will be over soon. Trust me. Just trust me,' he repeated as he moved his hips. Moving out of you, but the pain didn't stop. Not when he pushed back into you or when he moved back out. With every thrust, it seemed to get worse, harsher and rougher, the pain not ceasing to stop but instead shooting up your spine. Soon, the tears started to roll down your cheeks again.

'It's ok, it's all alright,' Eddie whispered, kissing your nose, but he let the tears roll this time, dropping down your ears into your hair and onto the mattress. Just another sign of your loss and what you were willing to give him. How good you were, so willing to give yourself up for the cause. He was so proud, and then your moans returned, and he felt his heart grow twice in size. You looked, sounded, and felt so perfect. 'Yes, that's right. So good. C'mon, baby, doesn't this feel good?'

'Yes, yes,' you managed to say. The pain had finally receded and slowly turned to the promised pleasure you had been waiting for. The moans were now seeping out of you, body shaking at the force he was taking you with. His lips had made their way down to your breast, kissing at the valley between them, kissing over your pebbled nipples, sucking lightly, stimulating an even higher scream of pleasure from you. He kept on going, hard and fast.

How right he had been, saying this would be the best feeling you'd ever feel. There was nothing like it than to feel him inside you, stretching you out, hitting at the right places that made your toes curl. He kept this power over you with just his movements, controlling your body with his, giving you so much to respond to. He had prepared, knew what to do to the right reactions out of you, what would please or not, what to do to make it all work. Not much longer now. It was so close, all coming to an end.

'So beautiful,' his voice was airy but in a lost sense. He was seeking out oxygen as he continued his strikes. Both your breathing started to get heavier; everything was getting hotter and hotter around you. Your stomach tightened, and you remembered what Eddie had told you the first time it happened.

'Eddie! I- I'm–' what was it that he had called it? You whimpered the words out before it got too much. 'I'm close! Please.' What you were pleading for, you weren't sure. But you had waited so long, so excruciatingly long, you couldn't take it anymore.

'Wait, baby. Just a bit longer.' He huffed out, his thrusts becoming sloppier.

'Eddie,' you cried out. How much more could you possibly wait before you would explode?

'Be good for me. I know you can do it.' You wanted to cry and scream. He had made you wait so long, then said you were ready, just for you to wait even more. When would it finally end? When could you finally gain your euphoric release?

Was this the sacrifice? This torture he put you under, was it all for the sake of his plan? Would this appeal to Vecna? Your tears and screams as you lost a piece of yourself to him, would that heal the broken part of the world?

'Hail Lord Vecna,' he grunted with his final juts of the hips. It made your ears ring and your skin rise in goosebumps. And this gravelly coarseness stayed in his voice. 'Come. Come to me.'

You would follow him anywhere; you knew that. And as he stopped to let his pleasure release into you, you followed right after. Stars were crossing over your shut eyes. You couldn't breathe, move, or do anything but let it all wash over you. A million butterflies fluttered inside you.

Eddie cursed as he pulled out of you, and you immediately felt empty. It was like a spell had immediately dissolved out of you, and the fatigue took over.

Just like that, it was over.

'Here we go,' he breathed out, pulling the chain off his neck, where his guitar pick hung, but now it was also joined by the little key that fits into the handcuff lock. With a click, one cuff opened, then the other, and you were free to let your arms drop to your sides.

You thought that moving was not an option anymore as you lay in that old bed, staring at the cracks in the wooden ceiling. The muscles in your arms were already souring, only to get even worse by the time the sun would rise again. You'd have to get home, but the idea of just getting up off the mattress was making you tired. Even rolling over to your side to greet Eddie's face was too much at the moment.

But you could not stay there forever; the candles would burn out entirely soon, shrouding you in darkness and the cold. So, slowly you managed to get up, ignoring how everything seemed to sway around you. Just had to close your eyes for a second.

You rubbed at your wrists, which were now red and sore from the handcuffs. Eddie had gotten off the bed, too, pulling his shirt over his head as you looked around to see your dress on the floor. The white fabric was covered in red stains. There was no way you could wear this outside now; what would your parents think if they saw the blood?! And maybe, relatively, it wasn't even that big of an amount, but the contrast on the snow white enhanced each drop to an extreme.

'Eddie,' you gasped, reaching out for the garment, and that is when you noticed the scorch marks underneath. That bitter, smoky smell– it had been your dress burning. You wanted to cry. It was the only thing you had brought with you– your special gift from Eddie nonetheless– and it was now completely destroyed. 'I don't–'

'Shhh,' he sat back down on the bed, taking your hand in his. The wounds on both of you had stopped bleeding entirely and were closing up, but it still hurt when he dragged his finger along the harsh line. Then, he leaned down and pulled a duffel bag from underneath the bed. It must have been where he had carried everything in. when he opened the bag, you saw a sealed candle, identical to some of the lit, nearly burned up ones around you. But he wasn't pulling the candle out of the bag. Instead, Eddie showed you clothes you recognised all too well. 'I brought these for you in case the dress wouldn't work out after all.' And he handed you the shirt and shorts, both yours, which you had had for years, your favourite until you had lost them, so you thought. Things got misplaced; after all, you could have easily forgotten them once you had been at Eddie's place.

The fact he had kept them for you and brought them along to this house in case you would need a spare change of clothes… warmed your heart.

With happy tears threatening to escaper your eyes, you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

'I'm sorry, Eddie', you mumbled against him, still feeling horrible that his gift to you had been ruined.

'It's ok, baby. We'll get you a new one.' He caressed his hand over your back, giving you something to find comfort in. after all, that's all he wanted, for you to be safe and happy. Nothing but the best for his sweet little lamb. Always leading her in the right direction, straying from the dark and the dangerous. 'How about a black, this time? Or a pretty red one?'

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asdfghjklmals · 4 months

Text

SEALED & DELIVERED✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, angst. hurt and NO comfort. WORD COUNT: 4.5k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. established couple. adoptedkiddo! megumi x fem guardian!oc.

SYNOPSIS: after satoru gets sealed in the prison realm, megumi realizes that he has to be the one to tell oc gojo girlfriend the bad news—includes child megumi flashback story. AUTHOR'S NOTE: the awkward moment where this doesn't end with fluff... this fic just focuses on satoru getting sealed and megumi's relationship with oc gojo girlfriend. sorry about the ending. i was starting to word vomit and run out of ideas. there will definitely be a continuation about the 19 days satoru was sealed away though. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions, please do!

intro

"sweetheart, we need to talk."

you looked up from your pile of paperwork while satoru sat down in the chair in front of you. he planted his elbows on your glass desk and leaned over, a troubled look on his handsome face. you could tell from behind his black blindfold that something was really bothering him.

"what did i do, gojo-sensei? am i in trouble?" you teased.

the white haired sorcerer dramatically clutched at his chest, "you know i love it when you call me that. don't distract me."

"yes, i know babe." you giggled, "what's wrong? what's going on in that big, beautiful head of yours?"

satoru pouted at you, he was going to say 'my head isn't big!' like he always did, but he decided to save that bickering for later.

"with sukuna's vessel showing up... i just don't have a good feeling about all the things going on." satoru explained, "so... i want to create some contingency plans if anything were to happen to me."

you frowned at the statement 'if anything were to happen to me'. you didn't even want to think of a possibility of anything happening to the love of your life.

"—and why would anything to happen to my man?"

satoru leaned back into the leather chair and crossed his legs, ignoring your question. "you have to promise me that you'll tell megumi about his father. the zen'nin clan will make megumi the head if i'm deemed mentally incapacitated or if i die. some deal his dad had with naobito, i guess.”

you shut your eyes and slammed your silver pen on top of the stack of paperwork you were filling out, "fine... i promise, but none of that is going to happ—"

"i'm not finished, sweetheart." satoru interrupted, "i need you to get yuta back to japan as soon as possible."

yuta was currently training in africa with miguel. satoru always mentioned how strong yuta was becoming after each visit and how the next generation of jujutsu sorcerers could rival himself. you and satoru depended on yuta quite a bit nowadays. (read ‘the cursed child: yuta okkotsu’ here)

you glared at your blue eyed lover sitting across from you, "anything else, mr. gojo?"

"can you promise to wait for me to come home if anything happens?" satoru asked with earnesty. it almost sounded like he was begging you.

present time: oc gojo girlfriend’s office

“you’re going to be late if you want to meet everyone at shibuya station on time.” you patted satoru on the chest, pushing him away from you.

“—just one more kiss.” he begged.

satoru was so needy tonight. you thought to yourself, 'what was up with him?'

you kissed him again, but he refused to let go of your body. he held you tightly. you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, “you have that look on your face.”

“i just have a bad feeling about tonight.” he mumbled to himself. you wished you could read what was going on in that crazy mind of his.

your heart dropped, frowning at his eery statement. “promise me you’ll be careful?”

“i’m always careful.” satoru stated confidently.

now that someone he loved was waiting for him to come home, he always took into consideration his safety so that he could make it back to you unscathed. he knew you would never forgive him if anything happened to him and if he left you alone. he promised to protect you. (read ‘the honored one’ here)

you held out your pinky as satoru intertwined his with yours. instead of kissing his thumb to seal the deal, he leaned over to kiss you again fervently, muffling whatever you were about to say.

you groaned once his lips left yours, whispering breathlessly, “do you really have to go?”

“i’m the strongest… so yeah.” he sighed, “remember, if anything happens to me, you have take care of my students.”

“can you not say stuff like that?” you hit his chest as he continued to hold you. “why are you talking like you aren’t going to be coming back home to me?”

“i’m just saying, babe.” satoru sighed again as he booped you on your nose, “you have to be strong for me.”

but what if you didn’t want to be strong? what if you selfishly didn’t want satoru to go to shibuya? what if something happens to him and he doesn’t come home to you? what if he leaves you all alone?

satoru finally let go of you as you stood in the middle of your office at jujutsu high. you shook your head to steer away your selfish thoughts.

“i love you, satoru,” you called out to him before he turned to leave your office, “remember your promise.”

he gave you his signature grin before sneaking back over to you to give you one last kiss. “i know. i’ll remember. i love you, (y/n). remember your promises too.”

"yuta is on his way home..." you reported, "and i'll tell megumi about his father."

satoru frowned at you, "you're forgetting something else."

"—and yes, i'll wait for you to come home." you stated confidently.

for better or for worse, right? it’s been 10 years that you and satoru have been together. you were pretty sure you were a patient person. you could wait for him forever if that’s what it took.

"that's my girl." satoru smirked at you before leaving your office, clasping his hands to teleport to shibuya.

***************************

october 31st. shibuya. 8:31pm. satoru gojo arrives.

“good night, satoru gojo. let us meet again in the new world.” kenjaku said smugly. he had just sealed the world’s strongest sorcerer, adamant that nothing would get in his way now.

satoru scoffed at the ridiculous sight in front of him, “yeah, maybe it’s good night for me, but you need to wake up, suguru. how are you gonna let yourself get used like that?”

kenjaku felt resistance in the body that he took over. hands that belonged to the body of suguru geto attempted to grab his throat.

he laughed in amusement, “well, this is the first time that has happened.”

he suppressed that very resistance with his cursed energy again.

satoru watched and reluctantly listened as kenjaku and mahito had a conversation discussing souls and techniques. he was getting impatient.

“can you just get this over with?” satoru grumbled, “you two aren’t the most pleasing things to look at. i definitely didn't want you two being the last thing i see before getting taken by my own will.”

kenjaku laughed at the sorcerer who was on his knees, arms shackled behind his back, unable to do anything to free himself from the hold of the prison realm. he looked so weak.

“i think i’m enjoying this view, but you’re right. i can’t risk anything happening, so goodnight.” he took one last look at satoru and smirked.

“close gate.”

“we can’t use the prison realm anymore right?” mahito asked curiously.

kenjaku nodded his head, “right. unless the person who's trapped takes their own life inside the prison realm, we can only use it on one occupant at a time.”

inside the prison realm, satoru kissed his the back of his teeth, annoyed but somewhat impressed by this cursed object. “looks like time doesn’t pass here.”

he sat on top of a pile of skeleton heads, repeatedly flicking his blindfold off of his forehead, “damn it. i really messed up this time… (y/n)’s gonna kill me after i promised her i’d be careful.” satoru muttered with a grim smile.

“it’ll be okay. i have faith in everyone...”

***************************

“satoru gojo has been sealed.” nanami announced grimly.

megumi looked at the 7:3 sorcerer in disbelief. “sealed? what do you mean sealed?”

“change of plans,” nanami said as he started walking towards shibuya station, “we need to meet up with itadori. if the sealing is true, it’s over for us. we don’t stand a chance without gojo.”

megumi felt as if his world was spiraling. how could his all-knowing, crazy strong sensei get sealed? did (y/n)-sensei know about gojo-sensei’s sealing? no, (y/n)-sensei couldn’t have known. (y/n)-sensei was probably with shoko at the relief area since you two could heal injured sorcerers.

megumi knew that the school didn’t like to use you offensively because of the damage you could inflict on the city with your cursed technique. no one wanted to fill out that damages report. instead, you were their trump card, their last resort. gojo-sensei was usually the go-to special grade sorcerer if the school ever needed something to be taken care of swiftly.

“i have to tell (y/n)-sensei.” megumi mumbled out loud.

nanami pursed his lips, “if you tell her, there’s no telling what she’ll do. if she finds out that gojo was sealed, she might flood all of shibuya.”

“but she deserves to know.”

megumi took out his cell phone. his fingers were trembling as he sifted through his contacts to find your name. his heart was racing at the thought of having to tell you bad news. he hated disappointing you and he definitely didn't want to worry you. but if it had anything to do with gojo-sensei, you had to know.

this moment reminded him of the time he called you from the principal’s office when he got in trouble for fighting at school.

flashback

'i am so grounded,' 7 year old megumi fushiguro thought to himself, '(y/n) is going to take away my new books for sure. maybe i should call gojo-sensei instead.'

you were the maternal figure in megumi’s life since you and gojo-sensei had taken him and tsumiki in. gojo-sensei let you make all the important decisions regarding the kids. you were the one that always had to have the disciplinary conversations with the two fushiguros. gojo-sensei didn’t like to play the bad guy, he was the type to sneak treats to him and tsumiki after you scolded them.

“well, megumi. are you going to call (y/n) or satoru?” the vice principal of the school, mrs. akita asked him.

megumi sighed, “i guess i’ll call (y/n)…”

he knew that if he called gojo-sensei, the blindfolded idiot would just tell you what happened anyways and he would still end up having to tell you what he did himself. so he might as well spare himself the hard conversation later.

he grabbed the phone from mrs. akita’s desk and took a deep breath before dialing your phone number. his heart was racing. he knew he was going to disappoint you, and he hated that feeling.

you picked up the phone, your bright laughter gave megumi the shivers, “hello?”

“uh—(y/n)?”

your tone immediately became serious, “megumi, are you okay?”

"uh, yeah. i'm okay. i got in trouble at school today." he admitted. he closed his eyes, waiting for you to start lecturing him.

he could hear that you were walking with someone. you were probably on a mission.

"what?! megumi... what happened?" you asked, concern in your tone.

"i, uh, got in a fight. mrs. akita said that i'm getting suspended for two days." he made eye contact with the vice principal in front of him as she sat with her arms folded. this was not megumi's first rodeo.

"megumi... we had this conversation about fighting at school..." you sighed.

yes, you were disappointed, but megumi was your baby. how could you stay mad at the cute little 7 year old boy with the same green eyes as you?

"i know, i'm sorry, (y/n)."

"i'm sorry, megumi. i can't come pick you up today because i'm on a mission. satoru will be there soon, okay?" you felt guilty. you knew the last person he wanted to see was satoru after getting suspended. satoru would never let him live it down.

"okay. i'll wait for gojo-sens—wait, can you send nanami to pick me up instead?"

you laughed at his question, "nanami is actually on a mission with me right now.. sorry kiddo. i'll see you at home later, okay?"

megumi grumbled, "okay..."

megumi hung up the phone and turned around to sit back in the office chair. mrs. akita was filling out the paperwork on his suspension.

***************************

once you hung up the phone, you sighed and turned to nanami. "sorry, nanami. megumi got in trouble at school today."

the 7:3 sorcerer stopped walking and turned to you, your troubled face concerned him, "do you need to call gojo?"

"yeah, he needs to pick up megumi from school. he got suspended for fighting." you groaned.

"being a mother must be hard." nanami teased as he patted your back in reassurance.

you laughed, "having a boy is hard. tsumiki is an angel. god forbid my future children have megumi's temperament."

"you better hope your future child isn't satoru's mini-me." nanami teased.

you grinned at him and joked lightly, "who says i'm having more kids with satoru? he already gave me two to take care of."

you and nanami knew that satoru would pout all day if he heard that joke. you giggled before dialing satoru's phone number as you both took a quick break on a park bench.

"hey babe, you okay? do i need to come help?" satoru asked as he picked up your phone call on the first ring. he never let you go to voicemail in your 2 years of dating.

"no, satoru. we're fine. but i need you to pick megumi up from school. he got suspended today."

"you don't say?" satoru laughed out loud in amusement, "alright, i'll go grab the kiddo."

"i'll be home later. and don't you dare reward him with something sweet on the way home."

satoru was appalled that you would even think he was going to pick up megumi and grab ice cream on the way back. however, you already knew he was thinking about it.

"so feisty." satoru chuckled, "we'll see you at home later then, sweetheart."

***************************

satoru teleported into the front office of the elementary school. mrs. akita opened the door to her office and brought the white haired sorcerer into the room while megumi waited outside. satoru sat down on the leather seat as mrs. akita sighed.

"satoru, megumi has been getting into a lot of fights lately. is everything okay at home?"

"(y/n) and i have been talking to him about not fighting at school..." satoru started, "but he always has a good reason for fighting, so we couldn't exactly reprimand him. what happened today anyways?"

"megumi got in a scuffle with a group of bullies. there are a couple troublemaker cliques in his grade and he beat up three of them." mrs. akita reported back to him, rubbing her temples. "they have extensive injuries, satoru."

satoru started laughing, impressed that megumi took on three school bullies by himself.

"—satoru, this is serious. their parents want him expelled."

"did megumi win?" satoru asked curiously, ignoring mrs. akita's last statement.

mrs. akita glared at him in annoyance, "clearly he won if the parents are wanting him expelled, satoru."

"then that's all that matters to me. that's my kid we're talking about here. end of discussion, akita." satoru said, standing up from his chair and waving off the conversation. “megumi will take the two-day suspension and we'll pay the fines. tell the other kids' parents we're sorry, yada yada yada.”

mrs. akita rolled her eyes, "you're lucky principal kinomoto and i love you and (y/n). no other school would put up with this behavior, satoru."

satoru winked at the vice principal and opened the door to look at megumi. he had a couple of scratches on his face, a bandaid on his cheek and left knee. megumi looked like he was going to burst into tears with the way he was frowning as pouting.

"alrighty, kiddo. let's head back to jujutsu high."

satoru gave megumi a piggy back ride while the child shoved his sniffling face into the back of satoru's uniform. satoru teleported back to jujutsu high as they walked through the school corridors together. he knew that he would have to have a conversation with megumi before you got back from your mission.

"you know you're going to have to tell (y/n) what happened, right?"

megumi glared at his guardian, "i don't want to." and in a matter of seconds, megumi started to burst into tears.

"you cryin', megumi? didn't you win the fight?" satoru asked.

megumi wiped his tears with his forearm, hiccuping, "y-yes."

"then why are you cryin'?"

"i'm scared to see (y/n)." he sheepishly admitted.

satoru started laughing. megumi could feel his laugh vibrating through his back as satoru carried him. he clutched his arms tighter around satoru's shoulders.

the sorcerer grinned, "you and me both, kiddo."

"...is she going to be mad at me? what if she doesn’t love me anymore?" megumi asked satoru full of worry. he knew that satoru knew you better than anyone else in this world.

satoru thought out loud, "hmmm, she'll probably be a little disappointed. but—she’ll always love you and she cares for you a ton. at the end of the day, you’re her baby."

megumi's eyes continued to water as his grip on satoru's uniform tightened. the closer they got to the dining hall, the more nervous the child got.

"looks like you're in luck, kiddo. (y/n) isn't back from her mission yet." satoru sighed in relief, "let's go see shoko and get you all healed up."

***************************

"oh my..." shoko gasped, "what happened to you, megumi?!"

megumi looked at satoru and then back at the ground. he was too embarrassed to tell shoko what had happened at school.

"he just got in a little tussle at school." satoru told his bestfriend, waving it off.

shoko started laughing, "sounds like you when you were younger, gojo."

"yeah, but i wouldn't have gotten beat up." satoru grinned at the doctor, "i was untouchable."

the brunette rolled her eyes at him, "you're so full of yourself."

satoru scoffed and put megumi down on the exam table. "can you just make sure he's okay before my girlfriend sees his scratches and yells at me?"

shoko nodded. she healed up megumi's minor cuts and bruises so that it looked like nothing ever happened.

***************************

you and nanami were walking through the school's courtyard after your mission today. the mission ended up running later than usual.

"sorry that mission took so long," nanami mumbled. “i know you were worried about megumi.”

"it's okay, nanami. satoru’s with him." you high-fived him, "good job tonight."

as you continued the walk through the courtyard, you saw satoru leaning against the entrance to the school building with his arms folded. he cleared his throat.

"your jealously is showing, satoru." you grinned at your boyfriend.

"me?" satoru called out to you, baffled, pointing at nanami, "jealous of him?"

satoru laughed as nanami rolled his eyes at him. "megumi has been waiting for you, babe."

"what?" you asked in disbelief, "it's past his bedtime. it's almost 10pm. satoru, you're supposed to make sure the kids go to bed on time."

"he wouldn't go back to the apartment, he won't go to sleep without talking to you." satoru grinned thinking about megumi’s tenacity.

satoru walked with you back to the dining hall, holding your bag in one hand and your hand in the other.

"i'll wait in the hallway. go talk to megumi." satoru said as he blew you kiss. you caught his air kiss and threw it on the floor, making him laugh out loud. your feisty personality was one of his favorite things about you.

you entered the dining hall. megumi looked up at you with sad eyes. you sat down in front of the child.

"hey, megumi." you greetled him softly, he was quiet and a little awkward. it looked like you were going to have to break the ice. you started the conversation with the 7 year old, "so, wanna tell me what happened at school today?"

"the kids i beat up were talking about you and gojo-sensei." megumi muttered. he folded his arms, angry at the thought of those bullies and what they had said about the two guardians he cared so much about.

"well... what were they saying about us that made you so upset you had to go and beat them up?"

megumi quietly told you what happened, "they kept saying that you and gojo-sensei weren't mine and tsumiki's real parents and that we don’t look like you two. it made tsumiki cry."

your heart shattered. kids were so mean nowadays. you admit that megumi and tsumiki's situation was unique, yes, but the fact that kids bullied each other about their parents was cruel. you never wanted the kids to feel bad about their situation.

you scoffed, "how can i be mad at the fact that you were defending mine and satoru’s honor?" you ruffled megumi's hair, "why were you so scared to tell me that?"

"because i keep getting in trouble for fighting." megumi frowned, disappointed in himself.

"megumi, i want you to be able to tell me anything. i don't want you to keep things bottled up."

"—but what if you don't love me anymore after i tell you the bad things?" megumi asked quietly.

you were shocked that a 7 year old could have such thoughts. how could he think that you wouldn’t love him anymore? megumi and tsumiki were the center of your world since satoru swiped them off the streets and brought them home to you. (read 'learn to love' here)

you asked megumi a question, "how many times a day do i tell you and tsumiki that i love you two?"

"you tell us every morning before we go to school and before we go to bed. and sometimes randomly throughout the day." megumi smiled at the mental reminder.

"—just because you get into fights at school doesn't mean that i'll love you any less. if anything, i worry about you getting hurt." you lectured him, "now, if you grow up to be a horrible curse user, we might have a problem."

"does that mean you're not mad at me?" megumi asked quietly.

"i am a little disappointed," you sighed, "—but i don't love you any less."

you reached out to him for a hug. the boy jumped into your arms. you squeezed him tightly, rocking him back and forth. "now tell me... did satoru buy you ice cream after school?"

megumi froze, his eyes widened. him and gojo-sensei were caught red-handed.

"uh huh... got it." you laughed. you were going to have a word with satoru later tonight.

end flashback

the dial tone was echoing through megumi's ears as he waited for you to pick up. he felt a lump in his throat, his heart was racing, just like back then when he was 7 years old, but this took the cake for the hardest conversation he's ever had to have with you. he would rather tell you that he broke the glass coffee table in the living room trying to summon max elephant a hundred times over again.

"megumi, are you okay?" you answered, "do you need me to—"

"i'm fine, (y/n). it's gojo-sensei."

your felt sick to your stomach. it was in that moment that you knew something had happened to satoru.

"what happened to him?"

"he was sealed." megumi said grimly.

you furrowed your eyebrows, not understanding what megumi was saying, "what do you mean sealed?"

"i—i don't know all the specifics." megumi stuttered through the receiver, "—but i'm going to find out. i'll save gojo-sensei, (y/n). i promise you. so don’t worry and… don’t be mad at him."

"megumi, wait..." you said, voice barely coming out as a whisper. you heard the younger sorcerer disconnect from the other line.

you felt a lump in your throat as you fought back tears. you had to be strong for the students... and for satoru. you felt this immense pain and anger in your chest. if satoru was sealed, that meant he was still alive. there was a sliver of hope that you would see him again. satoru had to be okay... right?

"(y/n)!" shoko yelled out your name, "you're going to flood all my medical supplies!"

you snapped out of your thoughts and looked around the area. water was starting to flood the ground, surrounding the both of your feet.

"what did megumi say to upset you that much?!" shoko asked, "i haven't seen you do that since high school!"

"satoru was sealed, shoko. and i don't know what that means!" you yelled in frustration, throwing your ice shards against the concrete wall.

the street lamps started to flicker as ice started to form around the streets, fire hydrants started to explode due to high water pressure, water started to fill the streets of shibuya. your cursed energy was starting to become uncontrollable.

you wondered how megumi was feeling at this moment and how horrible he must have felt telling you that satoru was sealed. it couldn't have been easy for him, nor could it be easy for the rest of the jujutsu sorcerers and satoru’s students knowing that the strongest was sealed away. the team morale was probably destroyed.

shoko distracted you out of your thoughts again, "you should go to shibuya. the students need you. you're second in command if anything happens to gojo."

you looked at shoko with determination in your eyes, she nodded at you as you made your way out the door to head straight for shibuya station.

the students needed you right now more than ever since satoru was gone. they needed the support from you, the support that you always gave to them no matter what the situation was. you were their go-to person for comfort. whether they got a bad grade on their mission, if they lost a spar, or when they needed an ear to listen to them, you were there.

you thought back to the conversation that you and satoru had. promise number one would have to wait. promise number two was on a flight back to japan and would be landing in a couple hours. promise number three...

'don't worry, satoru.' you thought to yourself, 'i'll wait for you to come home. i don't care how long it takes. we'll find a way to get you back.'

little did you know, the nineteen days that satoru gojo was sealed away was the most excruciating pain you've ever experienced in your life, not even an injury from a curse could compare.

it was as if something was missing from your life and you never wanted to experience the pain of losing someone so important to you ever again.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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kneelingshadowsalome · 1 year

Text

A Brute, An Angel... (König x F!OC)

Summary: König gets an order to make a female SpecGru sniper talk, but König doesn't want to hurt women.

Category: Smut 🔞, angst, fluff

Tags & warnings: Explicit mature content +18 audiences only, strangers to lovers (slight enemies to lovers), dubious consent, threats of rape, virgin!König, size kink, size difference, p in v, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, squirting, hugs and cuddles, super fluffy ending. König will be named in later chapters.

A/N: KorTac and SpecGru are rivaling military contractors, Conor is König's superior (and a huge villain), and I just wanted to write angsty smut featuring our favourite Austrian boi.

Part 1/3 of Valkyrie

Read on Ao3

A Brute, An Angel...

"You're always yappin' about how ya can make prisoners talk. Now here's ya chance."

König tried his best to stand tall while Conor spat at him with a gruff accent he couldn't quite place. He could tell the man got off on this: getting a chance to order him around and making him uncomfortable. He concentrated on looking down at him — knowing perfectly well that it only pissed Conor off when he did that. As if König could will himself to be shorter.

"But she's a… She's a girl. Sir."

"She is an enemy, and we need that intel."

I highly doubt that, sir.

"What do you want me to do with her?"

"Make the captive talk. Ya don't have to do the usual. If y'know what I mean."

"Are you suggesting that I rape her, Conor?"

The fact that he used the Lieutenant's name to appeal to him on a more personal level should've spoken volumes. But it had little effect on the man everybody in the KorTac was more or less scared of.

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm giving you an order."

If Calisto or Stiletto were here, Conor would be on the ground by now, begging for mercy. König found himself thinking what stopped him from gutting the man right then and there.

"Does the team leader know about this?"

“Never ya mind about that."

"Permission to speak, sir," Zero pushed in.

"Go on."

"This goes against the protocol-"

"Did ya give two shits about the bloody protocol when we were in Adal?"

The abrupt outburst almost made König flinch. Almost.

Zero didn't turn the slightly disgusted gaze away, but snapped his mouth shut.

"I - I can't do it," König muttered.

"You sayin' you refuse to obey an order?"

König straightened upon hearing the word 'order' but otherwise remained in confused silence.

"I suggest you carry on unless ya wanna get demoted to a fuckin' desk job. It's your call."

And with that, Conor turned and marched off. Zero followed suit, sparing a pitiful glance at König as he went.

He was left alone in the bunker hallway, illuminated by a lamp that produced an unnerving buzz.

Conor was only doing this because he liked to bully him. Somehow, somewhere, Lt had lost his humanity, but it wasn't supposed to be his problem. Not until Conor made it his problem.

Something in him made the Lieutenant tick. König didn't know whether it was because he was a relatively fresh recruit or whether it was the fact that he was a foreigner. Hell, maybe it was the mask, how could he know?

"Fuckin' jerry."

And he wasn't even; he was Austrian, but Conor didn't care, which meant that it was something else about him that got under his skin. The man had vehemently decided to hate him, and he could do nothing about it.

König turned to the door leading to the interrogation room, grabbed the doorknob, inhaled deeply, and went in.

The girl was tied to the ceiling with a grey paracord that bit into her wrists as she hung there, barely able to stand. The bastard had bound her unreasonably tight. An ugly sight, that.

But she wasn't.

The thick braid was messy, her arms were more or less bruised, and her face had dirt on it, but she was, by far, one of the loveliest beings he had ever seen. She looked like heaven and hell, an angel of war who had fought for days against overwhelming forces and only wanted to sleep.

He swallowed, glad of the hood making the blob of his Adam’s apple invisible. She stirred and looked up, eyes dark with the burned out wrath of a cornered wild thing. She looked dog-tired, and scared. Beaten. And no one had even struck her yet. Not that he knew of, at least.

She pulled herself to her feet by the rope, although it was long enough to allow her to stand, and raised her chin.

"So you're the one they sent to break me."

-----

It was him.

The man that had gotten her in this situation in the first place.

She had been stupid enough to freeze for a few moments, the crucial little moments that meant the difference between life and death, escape and capture. And for what? To watch how this beast raged on the battlefield like it was his playground, to watch how he plowed through her mates while bullets showered around him. Seemed to evade him even though he was the largest possible target in the whole damn skirmish.

It didn't really help that his gear was gone. He was still one of the biggest men she had ever seen. If not the biggest.

The black hood was still in place, though, making him look like an inquisitor. Or an executioner.

She suspected he was here to make her talk. He could probably make anyone talk... But there was a particular threat present here. She was a woman in a helpless state, and she had a hunch that this mountain of a man wouldn't shy away from any methods that would humiliate and destroy her. He probably enjoyed it: getting a little treat after a nice day in the field.

The man strode to her, and it seemed that the only thing that moved as he walked was his hips. But the sound of his weight, the sheer mass that met the floor through combat boots, made her draw back in a futile attempt to disappear somewhere between her raised arms.

He stopped a generous few feet away, crossed his arms over his chest, then unraveled them again to his sides. He was all corded muscle beneath that black shirt, the fabric barely concealing the curves of a well-built chest. The poor textile stretched from the swell of his shoulders.

She didn't say anything. She expected a punch in the face, a knee to the stomach. Something to get things started.

He walked behind her, much more slowly, the thumps against the cold, hard cement causing the hair on her neck to stand on end. He stepped close, so close that she could feel his body heat against her back.

"Listen to me." She flinched at his voice, far more high-pitched than she would've suspected from such a beast of a man.

"I'm going to help you. But you have to assist me here."

The 'here' sounded more like german for 'hier'. Through her terror sweat and confusion, she found herself wondering how odd it was that the KorTac had some German guy working for them.

"We have to…" he cleared his throat from the falsetto his voice was climbing to.

And she only now realized that he was nervous.

The soldier was fucking nervous.

"We have to have intercourse," he continued, his accent bleeding thick through her senses like some goddamn ASMR she used to calm herself with. A guilty pleasure she succumbed to when she tried to reach sleep after a mission.

Only after she got past the fact that the enemy soldier's voice made her feel tingly, she understood what he had said exactly. What he was proposing.

She knew that nerves and adrenaline were a fucked up thing. You could get turned on during the most absurd situations when the survival instinct kicked in. Those situations could include getting a target on sight and pulling the trigger, or getting hit and receiving care under fire.

Turned out that it could include the prospect of getting tortured by a 6 feet something enemy merc who whispered in her ear with a thick German accent, gently like a lover.

Perhaps this whole set-up was just another kind of torture. A good cop, bad cop routine, in which he was both of the cops. He tried to tear her walls down and make her trust him, and when she refused to tell him anything, he would get to work. Tear her nails off, dislocate joints, rape her bloody.

"I'm not going to speak."

She announced it with a far less stern voice than she would’ve preferred, and heard him swallow. Either he was damn good at acting, or he was the most socially anxious soldier she had ever seen.

He rounded her and stopped only an inch or two from her face. Which only reached the man’s chest, broad and lean, covered in that black shirt and smelling of battlefield along with his sweat - the combination hitting her nostrils as an undiluted, masculine scent. He reached a gloved hand to prop her chin up, to force her to look at him.

It was her turn to swallow, and the angle he forced her neck caused the sound of her gulp to echo in the bunker. The tactical glove had cut-proof padding on the knuckles, and it scratched the delicate facial skin, even though his touch was more of a coax than a yank. But that wasn’t what caught her attention so vividly that it nearly made her knees buckle.

It was his ice-blue stare. The eyes stood out from the holes of his mask, from among the heavily applied black facial paint like two beacons. And they were gentle. Bordering on puppy eyes. The thought alone nearly made her laugh hysterically.

Even with her faltering knowledge of human character, she could’ve bet all in that this man would not hurt her. That he was far from a torturer.

And the knowledge made her even more confused. If he wasn’t the torturer, then who was he? What the hell did he want?

“You have to co-operate.” His voice was strained with something akin to despair.

“I can only help you escape if you co-operate,” he whispered, his voice so low it went straight between her legs.

Jesus, this was not okay.

He released her chin, but she didn’t turn her gaze away. Her eyes roamed his face, or rather, the black hood that covered it. She wondered why he wore it when other soldiers didn’t bother to hide their identities. The only other man she had seen wearing a mask was Lt, with the top of a human skull attached to his balaclava. And even he wasn’t this big. Albeit menacing and shrouded in mystery that came from all things danger, death, and pain, the man before her now intrigued her far more than even Ghost did.

Why did he hide his face? Why was he so… jittery?

And why did he try to escape her gaze?

He looked like the whole situation was too much for him. To say that the man was distraught when she merely looked him straight in the eyes when he told her that they needed to fuck, would be an understatement.

If she were to choose a man to torture someone with his dick, this would be her last choice.

“What’s the escape plan, then?” She asked, still not believing for a second that he would help her, even if he didn’t strike her as intimidating anymore.

"I, uh…"

"You don't have a plan?"

"Well, not yet."

"Why am I not surprised," she murmured into the stale, dusty air of the chamber. "Why would you even want to help me?"

"I don't hurt women," he said and took a step back as if to confirm that statement.

This was so fucking ridiculous. He was a mercenary in a filthy bunker with a bound prisoner, assuring that he was a gentleman. Was she on candid camera or something?

She had never been in a situation like this. She had never imagined being in a situation even remotely close to this. She would have laughed over the absurdity of the whole thing but couldn't, because her lower lip started to tremble.

He noticed it and instantly shifted weight from one leg to the other. He tried to direct his anxiety into the leisurely movement, and it caused his hips to sway from one side to the other, making her think of all kinds of stupid associations, such as lapdance and snake hips.

With those rather tight khaki pants, it was impossible to prevent her eyes from darting to the bulging thighs and the evident package he was delivering between them.

Jesus fucking Christ, pull your shit together…

"I'm going to get you out of here," he promised.

"That's cute of you," she tiredly threw in, getting far too much satisfaction out of the reaction her words managed to pull out of him. He blinked a few times, and the colossal chest heaved as if the man was trying to catch his breath. "Funny that you need to fuck me to be able to do so."

Another switch from side to side, a sway of those goddamn khaki-covered hips.

"I'm almost positive that the only surveillance they have on this room is that camera over there. The screen is in another room," he told her, sounding stupidly proud of his debatable skills in spying. She pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. "But the guys there are usually watching tv," he hurried to add.

"I doubt they will today if your orders are to rape me." Again, he looked abashed, eyes darting to the floor and back to her. Was this guy thick in the head or something? "Probably got their beers popped and their pants down by now…" she said, and the man let out something close to a squeal.

"That is exactly why we have to… provide them with something until I come up with a plan."

She looked at him and almost smiled. Like one would smile at a daft dog that was far too eager to please.

"You just said you don't hurt women," she said.

"That is why I very much wish you would co-operate," he answered.

"You are the weirdest torturer ever."

"I - I am not a torturer. I'm just a soldier," he tried to assure her with that climbing voice. He was shitty at concealing his uneasiness. The man was completely flustered.

"Then why did they assign you with this… task," she demanded to know. It was yet again laughable: as if he was the one being grilled here. He wouldn't answer, and she cocked her head to the side.

"Ever interrogated with your dick before?" She blurted.

His hands were trembling. Slightly, but they were.

"Negative," he said, voice tight.

Was this guy….

Was he a virgin?

The twisted concept of some romantic chivalry, the nervousness, the respectful distance he kept, and the fact that his hands started shaking when she said a dirty word, all pointed to the possibility that he very much might be.

She thought he was picked because he was big, because his obvious blessings in the crotch department also held a promise of pain. But this guy certainly didn't know what the heck he was doing. And not only because he wasn't a torturer or because he didn't want to hurt a lady. She could almost swear, hand on Bible, that this man had never been with a woman. Not much further than the first base, anyway.

"Well, get on with it then."

She told herself it was only because it was useless to postpone the suffering that would eventually come anyway.

She told herself it was not because she was trying to break a Guinness world record of developing Stockholm Syndrome to this guy and his adorableness. She told herself it was definitely not because she kinda sorta wanted to see how he would act when he had to actually pull that cock out and touch her with it.

He stared at her, eyes wide beneath that oversized hood, and she could swear it was his heart, not hers, that made that thumping sound.

"I am going to touch you," he informed her. Like the dumbest moron.

If she ever got out of here, and if she ever, ever told this story to someone, they wouldn't be able to believe it.

He took his gloves off - why would he even bother to do that? - and let them drop to the ground.

His fingers were long, the fingernails meticulously cut. There were a few scrapes and scratches here and there on his palm, indicating his lack of coordination. Clumsy boy.

When he reached for her, she assumed he would go for her tits, or her waist, or grope her ass. But he didn't. Fingers cupped her face, trembling still, before they slid over her neck and grabbed her throat, not to choke, but to revel. Like she was a sculpture or something, and he wanted to know how the material felt. How soft she was.

She looked into his eyes, because eyes told everything; they would betray a flash of sadism or whatever else she still expected from this strange man. They roamed all over her, darted across her face, every now and then to her eyes, but mostly avoided her stare like the plague. He wouldn’t hold a gaze for much longer than a glimpse of a second. And there was still no sign of lust for inflicting pain. Only perplexed wonderment.

Her hands and arms were numb because of the position she was in, hands tied above her head, blood flow inhibited. But she paid it no mind as his hand traveled down her neck, caressed her collarbones, and then stopped right before he reached the gap between her breasts, free game in the white tank top she had been left with, along with her cargo pants and boots.

“Can I… May I kiss you?” He asked, his voice muffled and so thick that it was difficult to untangle what he had said.

It was such an odd request that her words left her, and she could only produce a whimpering sound at the back of her throat. He took it as a yes, and raised his hood, only enough to reveal a pair of thin lips among a light brown stubble. His mouth opened slightly, then closed, then opened again, as if he didn’t know how to proceed.

He bent down like the giant he was, not hinging at the hips but hunching over towards her, probably trying to appear smaller but ending up looking like there was a tower falling on her. The smell of gasoline and sweat hit her as his lips met hers, parted, and a shy flick of tongue swept across her bottom lip. She tried to remember how to breathe and ignore the rush of wetness that told her she would have no problem whatsoever with him parting her nether lips too. He captured her lip, sucked, then opened his mouth wider and hers with it.

She answered his kiss - just a little bit, and he instantly deepened it and moaned into her mouth. She fluttered her eyes open and saw that his were squeezed shut. He pressed a hand against her back and pulled her against his overwhelming body. All she could feel was muscle… and then some more. He was hard, the thick erection colliding with her stomach all but seductively. She went completely stiff, eyes wide and lips tight.

The man went even more rigid, if possible. He released her mouth with a grunt and buried his head in her neck.

"I can't -... I can't do this, I'm gonna go and tell him they need to find somebody else," he said in a strained voice, riddled with pain.

No. No.

The fuck he would.

If he would be replaced by somebody else, some crazy, blood-drunk soldier with cold eyes and a knife, some jerk-off who hadn't had a go with a woman since their last leave, she would fucking die.

"Please don't," she hushed and swallowed against him, the place where his hood and the collar of his shirt revealed skin.

"I want it to be you," she continued to whisper in his ear, meaning to say If it has to be somebody, let it be you, but choosing to deliver a sentence as persuasive as possible. As inviting as possible.

So that he wouldn't leave her in the hands of someone with no mercy.

"Scheiße…" The hot air brushed against her skin, even through that hood.

"If only I could touch you too," she said, regretting it immediately. She was acting a little too enthusiastic in the midst of her panic. Trying desperately to prevent him from leaving.

But the hand on her back moved down a bit, and long fingers splayed over the small of her back, pressing gently.

"Don't tease me," he huffed, panting although they were both quite still.

Jesus Christ… at this rate, the KorTac could hire her to do the interrogations.

She wondered whether the surveillance team was looking at the scene, which was far too intimate and loving to be an interrogation. What kind of a man would try to pry information out of someone by embracing them gently? Kissing them hesitantly?

In a way, this was torture: she didn't know what would happen to her after… whatever this was. She didn't know what procedures would follow when the others found out he had no intel for them to tell.

Let's get this fucking over with.

"What's your name?" She asked, hoping that the puppy boy wasn't naive enough to tell her his actual name.

"They call me König."

King in german...

"König…-"

She meant to ask him to touch her so that this horrible, awkward mess would come to at least some sort of an end, but couldn't find the words. His name on her tongue seemed to do the trick, though. He ground his hips against her, and had she not been tied to the ceiling, the movement would have toppled her. The hand on her back went behind her knee and raised it to his hip. Then another hand slid down to do the same to her other knee, pulling her from the ground like she weighed nothing at all.

The strain on her arms was released, and the relief was heavenly. For that alone, she could've let him do whatever he wanted to her.

"You're so klein… small," he commented with her raised to straddle his lap and her face finally on the same level as his. "Small people make good snipers," he declared with a hint of longing in his voice.

She had a terrible urge to sling the bundle of hands over his head. And not for self-defense reasons.

"I'm not that small, you're just big," she said, like a beauty to the beast, like it was a cute scene in a movie where everybody was nice to each other. Her gut feeling of the man being a virgin only increased by the minute. He was so… blameless. It was downright unintelligible that he was a soldier.

But she had seen how brutal he was on the field, how he had struck holes in her teammate with a combat knife like he was playing tag and didn't quite know the rules. Didn't know that one stab in a well-picked spot would have sufficed.

She had seen him haul a grown man with 100 extra pounds of tactical gear on him up like the poor man was a barbell, and bring them down over his knee. The sound of a breaking spine would probably haunt her dreams for the rest of her life. She had simply gawked at the display of utter, brutal violence before her. Normal men, even soldiers of a special forces tactical unit, simply didn't do stuff like that. Hands-on, down in the mud, barbarian kind of stuff from medieval times.

And now the same man was fondling her like she was his sweetheart. Like he was about to carry her in the bedroom full of roses and other syrupy valentines shit.

"And what do they call you?"

The accent was really doing things to her, along with the few german words tossed here and there, absentmindedly like candy. He was an enigma with his colossal body, croaking voice, and gentleness that surpassed even the violence.

"Valkyrie."

"You've got to be kidding me," he said, astonished.

"My team found out I used to do fencing, and I'm blonde, so…"

It was silly and the swords weren't even that big. One could hardly call them swords at all, the pointy little things they were.

But the situation indeed had taken a turn into a sick fairytale. Like, come on. Valkyrie and König? Some stupid hippie would've loved that: how it was meant to be, destined, even, that the two of them had met. That she was a damsel in distress, and he was here to save her from the ring of fire.

She stifled the urge to shake her head, to snap out of where this was spiraling into.

Affection.

They barely even knew each other's codenames. She was in a modern version of a dungeon, lit by a single light bulb, about to get raped by some edgy, mentally unstable goliath, she reminded herself. While perhaps psychologically interesting, he was not okay. This was not okay. She had been trained for situations like this.

Except that she wasn't. She was trained to withstand torture, battering, spending days in a cell where the lights never went out. She knew methods to draw the mind away from constant pain. But she hadn't received instructions on what to do in a situation where she wasn't even being questioned. Not even on the sly. Her call sign wasn't much of a secret. They probably knew who she was before they brought her to this room.

"There are many stories of valkyries in my Heimat," he prattled on enthusiastically.

"Yeah, I know the Nibelung saga," she said.

"Very heroic, very German tale."

"You ought to know."

"No no, I'm not German, I'm Austrian," he said.

This was turning into an odd conversation.

"König." She said in an attempt to bring his attention to the present moment. He fluttered his eyes, long lashes batting over that innocent-looking stare.

"Don't. Just… don't," she tried not to stutter.

He had lied to her about not being a torturer. Chatting with her like they were on their first date, discovering that they were actually intrigued about one another... It was insufferable. Although she was the one who had started it by asking his name…

"Right. Getting on with it," he said like he had been given an order. Her heart stung. Tears were welling up from the absurdity of this whole situation, from his silliness, from her having felt rather comfortable and safe in his hold. Fucking safe.

She should quit the army when she got out of here. If she got out of here. She wasn't right in the head to continue with this job.

"I've been an idiot," he told her.

You're damn right.

An idiot she could imagine herself falling in love with in another situation, but an idiot nonetheless.

"You should put on more of a fight, and…" he trailed off.

And you should be rough, you dumdum, she thought. Again, in another situation, she would've probably loved him to be rough.

"Roger," she said to him and heard him chuckle, saw how a few wrinkles appeared in the corners of his eyes. He lowered her down to the ground, and she hissed when her arms extended against the rope again. He let her go, gently, like it was his fault that she was attached to the roof.

"I would help you, but -"

"It's ok." She gave him a weighted look that told him to stop speaking. To get on with the action so that she wouldn't get attached even more than she already was.

He grabbed her by the throat again, doing a shitty job at trying to make it look like he was manhandling her. His eyes landed on her chest, and she could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, thinking about whether he should tear her top. Apparently deciding against it, he went for his trousers instead, pulling the belt buckle open with a click.

It had been a while, what with all the stress and the sleep deprivation not being an ideal combo to get her juices flowing. But nothing could prepare her for the surge of wet heat when the front of those light brown pants practically gave way for what must’ve been the largest bulge she had ever seen. It was almost vulgar, even more so when the fabric of his boxer shorts stretched at the sudden throb.

She realized her mouth was hanging slightly open, and she closed it carefully, but her lips parted again when he continued to shove both of those pants down. He didn’t even bother to take them off, and they were left somewhere mid-thigh, with belt buckle dangling in the air.

And God, he was huge.

It wouldn’t even stand up properly, even though there was no doubt that he had a full-on erection. It jerked between them like a threat, or a dare, but mostly it was just a long, thick, veined baulk that couldn’t support itself because it was just so goddamn big. He was uncut, but the foreskin had drawn back from the arousal, and the tip of his slit glistened with precum.

And he was flustered again, misinterpreting her stare as a sign of fear instead of awe.

"I promise I'll be quick," he whispered, and the first thing that her mind chirped back was Please don't. And not because it would probably be painful. But because she desperately wanted him to slide that monster in inch by inch and take his beautiful time with it.

"Uh-huh," she managed to say before the man codenamed King stretched his fingers toward her pants.

With trembling digits, he opened them and started tearing them down before realizing she could not spread her legs without him taking the pants off. And then he realized he couldn't take them off without taking her boots off.

So what happened was that her panties and pants were halfway down, and the Austrian hulk kneeled in front of her with his hooded face in level with her pussy. He turned his head to the side and leaned a bit on her thigh to unlace her boots, but she was pretty sure he did it mainly because he was embarrassed to look straight at her cunt.

She helped him as much as she could, raising her feet one by one for him to take the combat boots off. He tossed them somewhere to the side and tore her pants down, all the way down, and over her feet, leaving her in her tank top and socks.

He rose, his cock brushed her thigh, and she jerked like she had been scraped by some sharp object. It bounced at the contact, bumping against her again, sweeping a wet streak over her skin.

"Sorry," he mumbled like it was somehow worse than what he was about to do next. When he would shove… that thing inside her.

He picked her up again, almost in a hurry. Her heart was ramming against her ribcage and her mouth was dry as her feet left the ground. He was hard against her belly, flesh hot and throbbing and slick with precum that pushed out from the tip and left wet stains on her top.

This time she did raise her hands over his head and let the arms come down to rest on his shoulders. Her intuition told her she would soon need the support.

He moved her around like she was a doll, letting the erection drop between them to position himself against her slit. Her folds parted without effort as he slid against them, once, twice, before halting.

Don't comment about it, don't…

"You're wet," he grunted with delighted surprise.

"Yeah?" She said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Just fucking do it, she yelled in her mind, lips drawn into a straight line so that even a dumbass like he could see that this was not the moment for hesitation.

And he didn't hesitate.

He searched, adjusted himself, adjusted her, spread his stance, grunted…

And it was pretty clear by now that he didn't know what he was doing. Her nipples brushed against his chest as he searched for the right spot with her in his arms, and she hoped he would've taken his shirt off so she could feel skin instead of cotton.

"There," she helped him with a whisper as he hit the right spot. He returned, probed, and she guided him. "Now up…", and he bent his knees while raising her slightly. The angle was right, and he finally drove in, slowly but surely.

The stretch was phenomenal. It hurt more than a bit after he had passed the entrance, and the delicious feeling turned into a burning sensation.

"Wait.." she begged, and he stopped immediately, panting like a runner.

"Back up a bit."

He did, pulling out almost completely before she bucked her hips to let him know he could push back in. And when he did, she gasped, and he moaned, so tight and so glorious that the sound that erupted from him was laced with pure need.

"Ach, you're tight.. soft…"

She clenched around him at his shameless commentary, and he let out another broken sigh.

Of course it's tight when you're so big..

He wouldn't go fully in, and she doubted whether he ever even could. She had never been this filled. But more was coming.

He withdrew again before thrusting back inside, deeper still.

"Oh Jesus," she gasped, "yes, just like that.." the words escaped her lips and she noticed his eyes were directed at her, drunk and half-lidded.

"Yeah…" he echoed, his voice shivering like a leaf. "Das gut?"

If her hands were free, she would've torn that hood away, buried her fingers in his hair, and pulled until he would expose his fucking throat for her to kiss and lick.

He began thrusting with a steady pace, shallow but intense, going deeper every now and then when he slipped. His hands shifted, one by one, to grab her by her butt to glide her up and down his length. It was fucking hot that he didn't need his hips to fuck her, that he could just move her around with his hands and slam her against it if he wanted to. Her ankles hooked around his waist on reflex, and her fingers flexed in the ties, trying to grasp onto something but finding only air.

"You feel so good," the short, agonized 'good' coming out more like 'gut'; and her pussy tightened, pulled, and sucked him like he was the best thing ever.

"Sch…shit," he breathed laboriously, taking a moment and thrusting even deeper, eyes closing like he was on the brink of losing consciousness..

He hit a spot that was both familiar and unfamiliar, and she was pretty sure that if someone was looking at the surveillance material, they couldn't tell whether the look on her face was of pain or pleasure. She couldn't keep herself in check, couldn't seize control anymore. She was so soaked at this point that the evidence of her arousal was heavy and loud. So audible that it made her cheeks hot.

"I wonder what you taste like," he mused, his hood shaking in sync with his thrusts. "Honey and raindrops, eh?"

"Mh," she sobbed, her thighs quivering. She wanted to spread them more, to let him see her and have a taste, to present herself for him to do as he pleased. But she couldn't move much in his grasp. It was like she had been propped up on a machine, buckled to a seat reserved just for her.

He took a wider stance as if hearing her thoughts on wanting even more of what he had to offer, and she held on to him as he shifted like the continental plates beneath her. He proceeded to fuck her while leaning his head against the side of hers, and she held on to him as he breathed into her neck. The occasional moan sounded more like a sob as his cock slid in and out, in and out, slick with her wetness.

"You're what they sing about in Rheingold," he kept talking that romantic bullshit in her ear while stuffing her with that long Austrian cock that would make most women squirt if he kept at it long enough. "Und Walküre…"

It was so good she wanted to cry. She thought about letting a tear or two slip and saying it was just for the show if he asked. Virgin or not, König was doing a pretty decent job in making her a writhing, weak mess. He was not too quick, not too slow, but set just the right, rigorous pace that would send her into oblivion. He became the fountain stone, the buoy in the storm. He was the man that would send her over the brink and the man to hold her unwaveringly as she fell.

"Not much longer," he informed her light-heartedly, like he was in the middle of a mission about to be completed. Completed to the fucking full.

She couldn't even begin to tell him that she was already there, because everything suddenly coiled and burst, and she was arching her back, making him reach even deeper, almost fully inside her, the heavy balls slapping against her ass as her toes curled and her body went completely rigid…

The sound that broke out was not a yell, nor a scream, it was a violation of her vocal cords. She had never sounded like this — like someone falling and meeting the ground with a strained, lewd groan. Like someone who had the orgasm of their life.

He startled, almost quailed from her. Not because of the screaming, nor the sounds she made after… but because she came, hard, while he was banging her like a battering ram.

"Genau so…" König rasped, taken aback but trying his all to cover it. He slowed down on instinct, letting her greedy pussy suck on him like it was giving him a blowjob, telling him he was a good, good boy… because her words had left her.

He moved a little, and she could see the flash of those eyes from within the darkness of the hood, knew that he was watching her intently as she swam in ecstasy with an open mouth and pinched nose and eyes that wouldn't focus.

"Schön," he continued, sounding fragile. Weak. Vulnerable…

She couldn't for the life of her look at him, look in those eyes that must've told her things she wasn't strong enough to deal with at the very moment.

Her head dropped and her thighs went slack, but König held her, steadfast like the most gallant knight. He resumed his earlier pace with caution and care, breathing distinctly with his mouth open under that black mask. She was limp in his arms, trying to hold on as best she could while listening how the cock drove into her again with moist, sloppy sounds.

The moans that followed didn’t suit a man of his build at all. She had expected brute strength and hoarse grunts, not pinched, needy sobs and a head softly pressed against her. Forehead against fucking forehead. And he probably didn't even know what it was doing to her because he was such a stupid, adorable little — ugh, big dumbass.

She wanted to grasp his shoulders, slide her hands under his mask and raise it, kiss those moans straight from his lips, and run her fingers all over his stubble, the chiseled jawline she had seen only once. She wanted to feel him, all of him, not just his hands and his cock, even though they were good. Or fucking best. It almost made her cry; the post-orgasm need to cuddle for a bit but not being able to do so because her hands were bound to the fucking ceiling of a fucking dull grey bunker.

"Can I… cum..?"

Was he asking her permission to…

"Can I cum inside… Please, I'm close," he panted.

"Yeah… Yes.."

He slowed down the pace as he drew out his own upcoming release, relishing the last thrusts like he was sampling the finest cuisine. She finally dared to look at him and saw that his eyes were open and full of naked, helpless adoration. Devotion, even.

She must have been imagining: they were only the eyes of a man who was about to nut good. But damn if that fevered, helpless stare didn’t succeed in touching her very soul. To her horror, he wasn't shy this time, but held her gaze, held it, held it — until his lashes fluttered and he went over the brink with a cry.

It echoed from the damp concrete walls, just a single, prolonged wail that eventually broke and ended in miserable panting.

She could feel his cock throbbing, shooting the load inside, emptying the whole magazine in her. How the seed welled up, unable to go anywhere before he would decide to pull out.

König laid his head on her shoulder and pulled her against him, and she was not suspended only in rope but in time and space as well. His shoulders moved up and down with the heavy breaths, and she pulled her tied hands to awkwardly brush his neck as he came down from heaven.

He was shaking. Shaking, and let out a whimper against her skin, and for a fleeting moment, she was sure he was crying or on the verge of doing so.

"König?"

He shuddered a sigh, taking a moment to himself.

She felt hollow. Not raped, not assaulted, not abused. Just hollow, knowing what had happened between them would not be a recurring thing. That there was no 'them', not really. Not in the real, actual world.

"You can let go of me now," she whispered, although that was the last thing she wanted him to do.

But he did as she proposed, lowering her down and sliding out of her only after her feet had met solid ground. He pulled out carefully, gently, like he was leaving his beloved. Warm fluid descended down her left thigh in a streak, indicating that it had been a while for him.

Her head was full of dumb thoughts, such as whether he had a girl waiting for him somewhere back home. In Germany perhaps — no, in Austria. And if he had, just how lucky that person was.

She wondered if he had found someone here, and if they were in the military or not.

She wondered if there was no one, if he was alone, and if he curled up in a fetal position every night before he fell asleep in some bed that was too small for him.

And whether he would get into trouble for violating orders.

"You were," he started, eyes directed to the ground, "magnificent."

Was I your first, King?

"You weren't that bad yourself," she complimented him back, and he huffed.

"You liked it?" He asked in a way that made her heart squeeze tightly in her chest.

"Wasn't it obvious?" She couldn't help but smile. Couldn't… Wouldn't.

"Ja," he chuckled while looking down at his boots with an interest that was totally born from shyness. "I'm glad I could please you," he said before tucking himself demurely back into his trousers.

She wondered if he was as aware as she was of the fact that neither of them had played out the part they were supposed to. It had all gone out the window the moment he had touched her again. Practically thrown out, as if they were defying death itself together.

He gathered her boots and helped her step first inside her panties and then the cargo pants. He had to go around her back and reach from behind to zip her up and put her belt on, and it was such a mundane, cute act that she thought that this was indeed the cruelest form of torture she had ever witnessed. He hovered over her after he was done, and stole a brief caress of her waist before crouching to lace up her boots.

He rose, and came back in front of her, and the silence between them stretched to a short eternity. There were so many things she wanted to say, things he probably wanted to say, thoughts buzzing in both of their heads like bees as his seed cooled down on her thigh and made her pants stick to her skin here and there.

She thought about thanking him for being gentle, but what was she really thanking him for? Raping her tenderly? With the attentiveness and passion of a lover?

Was it rape if she had enjoyed it? If she had had one of the most powerful orgasms of her life?

He was… she had no words for him. The way he had unraveled her in mere minutes was shocking. Devastating, to say the least.

"I will find a way," he promised for the thousandth time. "I will not let them hurt you."

She nodded slowly, continued to do so while looking at him, her eyes welling with tears.

“Hey, kleine Süße, don't worry.” He brushed her cheek with his knuckles, soft and sweet. "I will be your Siegfried."

She didn't have the heart to remind him that both Siegfried and the valkyrie died in that story.

Part 2:

#könig fanfiction #könig smut #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #call of duty #könig imagine #mw2 smut #konig fanfiction #könig x oc #könig x female oc #könig

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afterbluehours · 3 months

Text

Love Bite - Choi Beomgyu

warnings: vampire fem!reader, blood, sex, themes of starvation

note: This came from a super random thought I had one day that Beomgyu would let his vampire girlfriend drink from him and probably get off on it. I'm not a vampire enthusiast so I wasn't down on the lore, but I found out from a friend who loves vampires that their bites feel euphoric so everybody kinda gets off on it? But by then I'd been working on it for most of January and written so much that I decided to go ahead with it anyway. Thank you to my beta readers! (not sure if they want to be tagged)

Beomgyu was slightly scared when he learned the person he's dating is a vampire, as anybody would, while also internally freaking out that he's just learned vampires are real and he's one of very few humans who know. But to your surprise, he doesn't leave. He gets used to the idea pretty fast when he doesn't see any major changes in you or your relationship after you tell him. You’ve always been so gentle, and he knows it’s a character trait and not a disguise when you continue to be caring and nurturing.

Some things start to make sense once he knows, like how he has never seen you sleep, which he never thought was strange before, just seeing you as a late night and early morning person, always awake before him. He can see now how much you've had to hold yourself back; how long it took to get you to agree to go out with him; all the times you'd shied away from your first kiss, how long it took for you to finally let it happen, and the way you’d trembled as he held you close afterward; the frequent long weeks that he'd go without seeing you when you claimed to be sick, and how you'd never let him come to take care of you or even bring you anything during those times; why you never meet his friends. He'd thought you were just a shy, private person who needed a bit more time than others to warm up to things. You were so grateful that he was so patient and understanding with you, sure that anybody else would have gotten fed up with the way you acted and given up long before the year mark. But not Beomgyu.

He began to see how often you let yourself go hungry, determined that nobody else should suffer for your existence. Without hesitation, he offers, no, begs you to feed from him when he can tell you've been neglecting your needs, famishing yourself for the sake of the safety of others. You always refuse his proposals, never even toying with the thought of blurring that line between love and lunch. Until he finds you more weak and dazed than he's ever seen you, flinching away from the scent of him as he enters the room you've secluded yourself to. He begs you to drink from him, replenish yourself, his hands caressing your face, eyes pleading just as much as his voice.

"I know you don't want to hurt me,” he whispers. His fingers are so unfairly warm on your cheeks, luring your eyes up to look at him. “But it hurts me to see you like this.”

In the haze of your desperation, you can't keep your eyes from honing in on his jugular, on the veins that pulse just beneath the skin. He looks and sounds so sweet, and the vulnerable state you're in makes it hard to think straight. His words and his scent cause you to feel dizzy, the mix of these factors and your heightened impulses make you begin to question why you never considered tasting him before. Two states of mind battle inside you–the craze of hunger and your personal beliefs and wishes.

Beomgyu pulls you into his lap on a chair by the window, bearing most of your limp weight. He slings your arms over his shoulders before cradling your head in his hand against his neck, positioning your face at his throat. You can hear the quick thudding of his heart, the throb of his pulse—nervous or excited, you can't tell. Closing your eyes, you let yourself inhale the warmth of him for a long stretching moment. Then, with your little remaining strength, you sit up enough to look him in the eye.

He doesn't look scared or burdened; he looks trusting and devoted. You let your chest fall flush against his to feel the beating of his heart where your own might once have been, reveling in the idea of two being one for just a moment. Kissing him softly, you feel his breath on your face, the steady rhythm of him. He's so beautifully alive, so whole and so fragile. Your rational mind seems to have remained despite the lost fight and the mania you feel as your eyes ask of his surety.

His head nods, and you gently capture his jaw in your hands and let yourself return to his neck. He doesn't scream or cry out in pain when your fangs pierce his skin. The only sound he emits is a sharp intake of breath through his teeth and a groan that he tries to hide under said breath. His body doesn't tense with fear or unbearable agony. You have the clarity to notice these things before the erraticism floods you, faster than the taste of him floods your mouth.

The heat of his blood warms your body as you suck it down, like gasoline on a fire. You had never let yourself imagine how he would taste, never dared to think that you would ever find out. The fire dances hungrily in your belly, crying for more, more, more, and you open your eyes to ground yourself against your instinct. You lick soothingly over the puncture you've left behind as you detach from his flesh, both to give him a break and check over him. His face appears blissful; dream-like eyes opening into yours, and lips parted with fleeting breath. You feel his hands softly grab at your waist.

"More," he breathes out dazedly. Your lips make to rebuff him, but he's quicker to speak. "You need more. Please."

Were you in a more stable state, you'd want to have a conversation about this. But with Beomgyu's words, your natural desire overcomes the memory of your rational thoughts. Somewhere in the back of your clouded mind, you're grateful to have someone who cares about you enough to share their life-force to keep you comfortable. Your tongue laves across the bite to lap up the blood collecting there before you dive back in to begin gently sucking again. Fighting against every urge that sings inside you, you hold yourself back from severing any veins or arteries, willing to cause as little damage as a minimal flesh wound that can be easily staunched to prevent even more blood loss.

The moan that comes from the man below you is jarring; it doesn't derive from pain. Is this normal? His thumbs anchor into the flesh above your hip bones, and he angles his head up further to give you a more advantageous angle, encouraging you. His body jolts a little, causing your fangs to sink deeper, against your intentions, delivering more of his blood to you. You swallow it down before pulling away again with a gasp, dizzy with the effort it takes to stop yourself from guzzling him down.

"Beomgyu… I-"

"Ride me," he whines breathlessly, his eyes as blown out as your own probably are right now.

The sound of the words that tumble from his lips is almost enough to startle you out of your thirst. At first you're not sure you heard him right, you've been out of it for days... But then your boyfriend is closing the gap between you, nose pressing under your jaw as his arms pull your hips against him, grinding you over his crotch, brushing hard and long underneath you, the friction waking another fire inside you.

"Ride me, baby, please." He sounds as if he's never needed anything so badly before, and he's definitely never begged for you this way. A new warmth begins pooling in your belly alongside the blood.

Beomgyu only fumbles a few times while unbuttoning his pants blindly as he offers his lips endearingly desperately to you. Fingers hike up the material of your dress until it's bunched around your waist, grab at your panties and angle them to the side. You hadn't realised how wet you were until he pushed inside with no resistance.

The kiss is broken as the two of you react to the slide of his cock with a gasp and a groan, your forehead dropping to meet his as he pants shakily. Arms reaching under your thighs, he pulls you along his length, then lets you sink back down, until you take over and begin to ride him. Your lips brush over the bite you've left as you move against him and he moans again, hips thrusting up to meet yours.

A gentle hand cups the back of your neck to return your mouth to the site when you don't do so yourself, and you're so tempted to drink again, but you will yourself to believe you've had enough to keep you going until you find another source. Beomgyu is whining at your lack of action, so you settle on kissing the punctures instead, savouring the taste of him as the blood pooled at the site sticks to your lips. You feel him throb inside you at the sensation of your mouth at the area, and he shivers as if all the nerves in his body are connected to that spot.

“Take more,” he says between shaky breaths. “Feels so good.”

“No, Gyu-”

His lips are on yours the moment you pull back from him, so quick to act and so lost in passion he doesn't seem to notice the crimson hue that slathers your lips or the iron tang that they share. His hands are soft on your face now, thumbs stroking your cheek bones; always so gentle with you, as if he were not the one that was fragile, but you. When he breaks away for air, his mouth is smudged with a faint red stain.

His eyes drink you and he looks as in love as ever, just as adoring of you as before he learned what you are. Even now, with his neck punctured and his blood settling in your stomach, he still doesn’t see a monster.

“Gyu,” your moan drags out as your hips bring him deeper inside you over and over. A "You're too good for me” slips from your mind to your lips, followed by, "I don't deserve you."

You could swear you see pain on his face for a fraction of a second at your words. Then his hand is in your hair and he's meeting your lips once again to convey everything he's too breathless to say in this moment. When the kiss is broken, you dip down, your lips travelling over the column of his throat, leaving a trail of kisses and earning more moans from Beomgyu as his head falls back in bliss.

“Don't– ah, don't ever say that,” he struggles to get the words out. “You're… oh god. I love you so much.”

Feeling his stomach tighten beneath you, his hips push up to meet yours, plunging himself so deep and snug inside you. Sparks shoot through your whole body from the feeling and you impulsively wrap your legs around him to keep him there as you quiver with pleasure, walls clenching desperately. There's a broken wail beneath you and you're faintly aware of the sensation of Beomgyu finishing inside you, and his name being called again and again by your voice.

When your vision clears, certain that you would be a mess of tears if you had the ability to cry, you find your boyfriend heavy-lidded and wearing a slight, delirious smile. You're so in love with this human, bewildered by the fact that you don't know what you would do if he were to go away. Or worse; inevitably succumb to mortality, a voice in your head reminds you, causing you to mentally flinch away from your thoughts and focus on your view.

Taking his head in your hands, you try to rouse him from his euphoria. “Are you okay?” Checking him over, you find no sign of excessive dizziness, though his rapid breathing and any lightheadedness in this moment could be from the other activities rather than the blood loss. Taking a better look at the bite you’ve left, reality comes crashing down on you, a hint of panic settling in beside it. “How are we going to hide this? This will take weeks to heal–”

A thumb swiping along your bottom lip brings your attention back to Beomgyu’s gaze. His eyes look a little more focused now as he steps into a reassuring role. “It’s okay,” he coos softly, as though you’re a bird he could spook, that you might fly away, not a creature that had him at its mercy moments ago. “I’ll bandage it and say I got a tattoo.”

“You would never get a tattoo,” you huff slightly, feeling he’s not taking this as seriously as he should. “And when you take the bandage off and there’s nothing there?”

He chuckles, hands running up and down your arms in a comforting way that has become familiar to you. “Then I’ll say I got a piercing, didn’t like it and took it out.” The soft brown of his eyes are so mesmerising, so persuasive that you’re almost soothed out of your unease about the whole thing, and he throws in a kiss to seal the deal. Leaning back, he’s smiling once more. “We’re definitely doing that again.”

Incredulous, you shake your head. You try to shift on his lap and are reminded that the two of you are still connected. “No, Beomgyu–”

“Hey. Look ook at me, love, I’m fine!”

“This isn’t what I got involved with you for,” you say solemnly. It's quite the contrast to your boyfriend's nonchalant and playful attitude, and as soon as he hears the words, he's adapting to you. If possible, his eyes grow even softer.

“I know,” he says softly. He helps you untether yourselves, promising to continue the conversation after you're both cleaned up. In the bathroom, you notice the way he eyes the bite, inspecting it carefully. He doesn't seem phased by the mark at all, his reaction similar to if he'd just nicked himself while shaving. Opening the first aid kit, he's ready to see to it himself, but happily allows you to treat and bandage it when you offer. Once clean and in bed, he resumes the previous conversation as promised, knowing it's important to you.

You're laying on top of him, chest to chest and able to look at him properly–one of Beomgyu's favourite things about you being lighter than humans is that he can cuddle you this way without being crushed. He strokes your hair as you begin again, trying not to be distracted by the gesture. “I don't want to risk ever losing control and putting you in danger. What if I can't stop next time?”

“I understand,” Beomgyu's voice rumbles through your body as he speaks. “But do you realise how much restraint you showed today? While you were starved? If you could handle that without draining me for every drop I'm worth, I think you can handle a sip here and there before you reach the danger zone.”

For every drop I'm worth? Your expression pulls into a cringe. “Don't say it like that.”

A grin flashes over his face before he's serious again. “I trust you. And it’s not just that it feels good, I hate to see you suffering, you know.”

You sigh deeply, too tired and bombarded by logical arguments to find a rebuttal. Now it's you who reaches up to play with his hair, something you know he loves that relaxes him. “You should sleep.”

His eyes close obediently, making you smile. Arms wrap around you, holding you impossibly closer. “You trying to shut me up?” he jokes. “You're lucky to have me.”

As your fingers stroke through his hair, his mischievous smile slowly fades as his face softens at your touch. It's not long until he'll slip into sleep. “I know,” you whisper.

#txt smut #beomgyu smut

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bonny-kookoo · 8 months

Text

Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Honey]

Your words can bite so hard, and your eyes can glare harsher than the sun- but there's a certain hint of sweetness hiding behind that armor you wear, and it sticks to Jungkook's heart like honey.

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past traume, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, scolding, mild Angst but with happy end

Length: 3.6k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

The next morning, you're almost entirely hidden underneath your blanket- a pile of cat, still visibly upset with the new sleeping arrangement even while unconscious.

Jungkook feels a bit bad- he wants to maybe help you feel at least a little more at ease with him, but he's got no clue what he could really do- so he just hopes that you somehow at least accept it for now, after realizing that Jimin and Yoongi will both not cave into your wish to sleep with your owner instead of the dog hybrid.

"Ah Jungkook. Good morning." Jimin greets him, and Jungkook's tail instinctively wags, making the human smile brightly. He's currently making himself some coffee while Yoongi is already sitting at the small table, browsing something on his phone before he locks it and sets it down.

"Is she up too?" He asks Jungkook, who shakes his head.

"I think she went to sleep late. She was pretty upset the entire night.." Jungkook mumbles, and Jimin sighs.

"Let's let her sleep then-" He starts, but Yoongi shakes his head, earning an almost pleading look from Jimin.

"No." Yoongi denies. "I don't care who wakes her up, but she's getting up. If she wants to sleep longer, she should've went to bed on time when everyone else did." He says, and even Jungkook now lowers his ears, feeling a bit bad for you. Yoongi is a bit harsh sometimes, and tends to be a little strict, but you're not used to that. It feels a bit much to dump that all onto you right away, in his opinion.

"..alright." Jimin sighs, running a hand through his hair, before he leaves to wake you up.

"Don't you think you're a bit.. too harsh?" Jungkook wonders, sitting down across from his owner and friend at the table. "I mean, she seemed really upset last night.." He says quietly, listening to some sounds coming from his shared room with you, presumably you getting up and ready for the day.

Yoongi doesn't answer, and so Jungkook just sighs to himself, awkwardly waiting for you to emerge together with Jimin- which you do, still visibly upset, practically hiding away from Yoongi's sight. Jungkook is convinced that at this rate, you'll just end up hating his owner more than him at the end of this trip- and he's not sure if that's gonna be any better for Yoongi and Jimin. After all, the plan is to just somehow get them all to at least tolerate each other- but he himself can't see that happening like this.

And it doesn't get better when you refuse to eat anything for breakfast, simply sitting next to Jungkook with your arms crossed and an angry glare. "You're staying behind if you refuse to eat." Yoongi threatens nonchalantly, and your eyes harden even further, ears pinned back.

"I'm not a child." You growl, causing Jungkooks skin to tingle from the amount of anger you radiate next to him, the air heavy with the scent of your fury. It makes him nervous, to say the least. He's always been pretty sensitive to other's feelings, after all.

"You're surely acting like one." Yoongi responds back with no clear emotion, as he looks at you. He surely has the looks to pass as a cat hybrid, even without ears and a tail- but you'd never accept him as one. He's a traitor, he's the main reason your perfect little world has tilted, he's the cause of you surely having to go back to the shelter soon, just because he wants to fuck your owner. And you hate it. You hate him.

"We can get a snack or something in the town though, right?" Jungkook says, trying to soothe the situation- something Jimin seems to pick up on, eagerly latching onto that chance of problem solving.

"Yeah! There's a mall in the town, we can surely eat something there." Jimin nods, not leaving Yoongi any chance to argue as he gets up and puts the dishes in the sink.- Jungkook rising from his seat as well to help and also escape the situation.

Well- this is certainly going to be an eventful day.

At the mall, the mood clearly lifts quite a bit- you're way too busy looking at all the displays and storefronts to really care much about Yoongi's sour attitude, which also has lightened partially due to Jimin's charming attitude towards him. It's a breath of fresh air for everyone- though Jungkook isn't sure when he was put on babysitting duty when it comes to you, trailing after you to make sure you won't get lost.

You don't really acknowledge him, and he's fine with that. All of it gives him a little bit of a chance to observe you more, and paint a clearer picture of you. Because he's convinced that you're not actually mean or a bad person- you're probably just worried, or scared. And he knows that cat hybrids tend to lash out when they feel threatened or cornered. He's seen it time and time again. And he hopes that maybe he can witness you opening up to him as well- one day.

Though right now, he's reminded of his own issues- as he walks past a small group of friends bunny hybrids clearly intimidated by his presence, something you look at from the side, before you search for a bottle of juice you want it seems like. You stand out amongst the people even though your outfit isn't all that colorful- but it's still just uniquely you, frills and patterns and bows all adorable on you.

Although your high heeled mary janes don't really help reaching his height at all, down the line. You're not even a hand-length taller than any of the bunny hybrids currently talking in a hushed tone with their large brown eyes staring at him, before they pass you, almost as if to escape. You look after them, before you take a small bottle of mango juice for yourself, walking towards the cash register- and he notices the way you now look back, as if to check if he follows. He does- though a bit slower now.

He doesn't really want people to think he's stalking you or anything.

His hybrid breed and overall appearance intimidates people a lot- mostly other hybrids, and he knows this, painfully so. He doesn't mean to come off as this- and in the past, he really tried to look as friendly as he could, with colorful sweaters and shorter hair to make sure his face would never be hidden from view. But he quickly realized that he can't change the way he's being perceived. He's always been the big bad dog- and that stigma will forever stick with him no matter where he goes. So he decided to be and appear the way he wanted to- got himself tattoos and started to dress in a more comfortable, though very dark style, while also growing out his hair.

But that doesn't mean it doesn't affect him anymore.

After paying for your bottle of juice, you stand in front of the small convenience store, the bunny hybrids still watching him with their intense looks, and Jungkook feels himself become overly conscious of just how many people are around him. It makes him nervous. Does he make others nervous too? How many people are looking at him right now, just waiting for him to make a mistake?

Suddenly, something cold hits his bare arm, once, then again. He looks to the side, spots the tips of your cat ears which ware turned one towards him, and one backwards towards the bunnies, though your eyes are simply looking to the side, as you hold out the bottle. "Uh.. for me?" He wonders, caught off guard, and you scoff, rolling your eyes.

"No, dumb dog-" You mumble, tapping your foot impatiently. "-open it. I can't." you admit, and only now does he spot the way one of your palms seems to be an angry red, probably from the force of you trying to unscrew the cap. He takes the bottle from you, opens it with ease, before he gives the bottle to you, cap still in his hand. You drink slowly, probably because the liquid must be pretty cold, a drop from the condensation on the outside of the plastic container falling right into your cleavage, and he averts his gaze in respect for you, instead noticing something else.

The bunnies are still looking at him. So is a young couple with a small dog hybrid child. But they're not looking at him with worry, or fear, or anything-

the bunnies seem almost shy now, watching him with sparkling eyes of wonder. The puppy hybrid laughs, the mother having a warm smile on her lips, her striped cat tail softly curling over her lap while her husband chuckles next to her. And then you clear your throat, before you hold out the bottle to Jungkook again- who screws the sap back on, and decides to hold it for you. You're not thanking him at all, and he doesn't expect you to.

He doesn't need you to.

Because he realizes what you just did. You didn't just demand him to open a bottle- you could've done that right after paying for the beverage, but you did it almost strategically in this rather open and exposed spot. To show off- to show that Jungkook isn't a big bad dog at all.

And as you walk back, he falls a bit into his own mind, thinking of how to repay you that act of kindness- because he's always been like that. He can't help but feel the need to not be in someone elses debt- something Yoongi has taught him not to do. You're just on your way back however, when Jungkook realizes something he didn't notice while he was stuck deep in thought-

you're no longer in sight. He can't see you- can't smell you. You've vanished.

And he's panicking, because in front of him, he can see both Jimin and Yoongi, who seemingly haven't noticed your absence yet, Jimin happily waving him over. Jungkook feels his heart drop- how is he going to explain that he lost you? "Where's-" Jimin starts, and Jungkook feels his tail lower down in shame.

"I don't know." He offers, Jimin's face clearly falling at that. "She was with me like- five minutes ago, I don't know where she went.." He admits shamefully, and Yoongi sighs.

"Let me guess-" He mumbles, looking over at his partner. "She doesn't have her phone with her?" He asks him, and Jimin shakes his head. "Great. Let's just sit down here on the side and wait. Maybe she'll find us soon." He suggests, while Jimin doesn't seem too convinced about that plan.

"No, I'll go look-" He starts, Yoongi holding him back by his hand, trying to tug him back to sit down next to him. "Yoongi-"

"If you run off now she's never going to find you." He offers. "She's an adult, not a child, Jimin. She can do this on her own." He explains, while Jungkook doesn't feel convinced. Sure, you truly aren't a child, and he doesn't view you as such, but the mall is still pretty big. And you're on your own. And yes- maybe he feels a bit oddly protective over you, considering you're somewhat part of the family- even if you try very hard not to. Jimin and Yoongi truly seem to get along very well, and clearly share an emotional connection, making it very obvious that the only hurdle right now is you and Jungkook trying to get along.

And maybe he's at fault too. If he was a soft cat hybrid too, or a cute bunny, or even a gentle bear hybrid, you wouldn't be so reserved and defensive. If he wasn't born as a dangerous dog breed, he probably wouldn't make you feel so intimidated.

Maybe if he was different, this whole mess wouldn't even exist.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You actually didn't mean to get lost. You really didn't. After all, why would you? This is your personal nightmare, after all.

Being left alone has always been an issue to you. Maybe because it happened so much to you in the past that you now just felt this obsession with needing to latch onto things you want to keep, fueling your fear of abandonment even further over time. Maybe it's always been like that, and your overall reaction to it simply just changed. You're not sure. All you know is that you don't want to be alone anymore, and Jimin had been the soothing security for a good few years for you, your security in the fact that you'd never have to be on your own again. And now with Yoongi and Jungkook, that security is challenged- your happy little bubble about to burst.

Or maybe it already did, and he's just trying to find the best moment to break the news to you.

None of your thoughts want to make sense as you sit on the random bench in the mall, staring at the hem of your skirt. Your mind just wont clear up, nothing really offering you any comfort as you wait for someone to maybe come find you. Maybe no one will actually reach out to search for you. Maybe they're happy you're gone now. Should you just leave? You could just go to the next police station, they'd put you in a shelter in that case, and Jimin wouldn't even have to come pick you up. He could just say over the phone that he doesn't want you back, making the whole process a lot easier on everyone.

Jungkook is a nice guy. He's gonna fit right in with Yoongi and Jimin.

He really doesn't deserve the looks he gets. You've noticed that a lot today- the odd glances he gets thrown, as if he's a criminal on the loose, ready to stab someone at a moment's chance, when in reality, that dog could probably not even slap down a fly if he was asked to do so. He's so soft, and gentle, and a little bit sensitive- making you wonder if he ever really gets angry at all.

You know you get angry a lot. You know your tantrums are childish, but you can't help your reactions. You're not good at handling and controlling your emotions. You never learned how to do that- and you refuse to put any effort into it anymore anyways, because does it really matter?

Suddenly, someone walks past the bench you're sitting on, stands in front of you with his back turned facing you, looking around. You're watching him for a bit, crossing your arms as you get up to walk a bit closer, before you say anything. "You'd make for a horrible tracking dog, you know that?" You snap at Jungkook, who's ears turn around first, before his head whips towards you as well- tail beginning to wag as he realizes you've been finally found.

It's kind of cute.

What isn't kind of cute is the absolute bear-hug he tackles you with, holding you close for a good moment as if he'd just reunited with a long lost friend, while you lean back away from him, cringing at his overly happy attitude. "Don't run off like that!" He scolds, though there's no fire behind his words. Someone walking past chuckles at the scene he's spotting, and you push against the dog hybrid's chest to signal that he needs to step away a bit, which he does, apologizing under his breath before he smiles. "Let's get back to Yoongi and Jimin. They've been worried." He informs you, walking next to you as he leads you to where they both are sitting.

"Yoongi is gonna be fucking pissed seeing that you found me." You mumble, and Jungkook looks down at you, before he shakes his head.

"Yoongi is a bit.. bad with feelings, and he can be a little harsh with his words, but he means well." Jungkook tries to justify his owner's behavior. "He's really nice. He's just.. stressed because he really likes Jimin, and wants to work it out all by himself." he explains, walking next to you with his hands in his pockets. "He's always been like that. He feels bad when something fails that he's involved in, and then puts all the blame on himself." He shrugs.

"That's stupid." You mumble, spotting both of your owners on a bench in the distance.

"A little, maybe." Jungkook laughs. "But I'd say he thinks what you're doing is stupid too, so." He jokes, and at that you glare up at him, arms crossed.

"Well you're stupid too." You huff, while he suddenly grins down at you, a very interesting look on his face.

"And you're cute." He says, leaving you to stop in your tracks as your brain needs to process his words for a good moment, not having expected that. And you don't get much more time to really think about it when a happy Jimin runs towards you and embraces you in a hug, clearly relieved that you're back and not lost after all.

Though Yoongi doesn't look too impressed at all.

"What the hell was that?" He scolds as you're relieved from Jimin's hug, though you're clearly not just taking Yoongi's words without a fight back.

"Got lost, my god." You roll your eyes. "Sorry I got found, won't happen again I guess." You mumble, looking to the side, while Yoongi sighs.

"I sure hope this doesn't happen again at all." He says, walking closer to adjust your hybrid collar so that your tags are facing the front- the close contact making you inch back a bit on instinct, his hands stuttering a little because of that. "..don't get lost again, please." He mumbles, indicating that he was at least mildly worried- and you're just looking at the floor, pouting to yourself.

"..I'll try." You just say back quietly, causing both Jungkook and Jimin to laugh.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Later that day back at the cabin you all share, it's clear that that little moment today didn't magically change anything. You're still picking a fight with Yoongi left and right, you're still awfully bratty and Yoongi keeps on scolding you while Jimin tries to keep things at least somewhat civil- but there's an odd lightness to it now. Like the bite behind your words- and also Yoongis- has lessened quite a bit now, no longer intending to hurt.

And tonight you don't argue at all about the sleeping arrangement- at least not vocally-, making it a bit easier on Jimin and Yoongi.

Though Jungkook notices how you're not sleeping, rather staring into nothingness while the entire room and cabin is drowned in darkness, your owner probably already asleep. "Everything okay?" Jungkook asks, and you hum an affirmative answer towards him- though he notices you're not very confident in your response it seems like. "What's wrong?" He now whispers as to not wake up your owners, as he sits up on his bed now, looking over at you.

"..nothin'. Go sleep, dog." You mumble, pulling the blanket a bit higher over your body.

"You know.." Jungkook starts quietly, sighing as he rubs his eyes. "..Nothing's gonna happen to you." He offers, and at that your eyes move to find his. "I know that you're scared-"

"I'm not." You respond.

"-that you're not scared then, but if you were-" He teases a bit, watching you roll your eyes. "-it would be for nothing. Jimin's not gonna get rid of you, Yoongi doesn't hate you, I don't hate you either." He tells you, and you sigh.

"..why not?" You mumble, so quiet he almost doesn't hear it. "Jiminie only pays attention to Yoongi now. He didn't even brush my tail before bed anymore, like he always does. He doesn't care anymore." You mumble, making you roll over to have your back facing Jungkook.

"What if I did it for you then?" He wonders, and you look over your shoulder with an irritated look. "I know it's not the same, but I can try." He offers, shrugging, while you sit up slowly now as well, watching him suspiciously.

"Why would you do that?" You ask, and he just leans his head to the side a little, his gaze now a lot more serious.

"Cause I know what it's like to be alone." He tells you. "I know what it feels like to have no one. And I don't want you to feel that when we're all here." He tells you, and you look down to the floor, oddly quiet now.

And it stays like that for a good moment, making Jungkook question whether or not you fell asleep while sitting- when you raise your face again, this time eyes glossy with emotions you won't speak of. And you don't have to.

Because the way you don't fight him as he walks over to hug you speaks louder than anything you could say to him. And tonight, you feel a little less lonely with him holding you. Tonight, you're opening up just a little bit. Tonight, you decide to cling to someone new-

Tonight, Jungkook get's a little taste of how sweet you can be, once you let someone in.

Sticky like honey, clinging to his skin.

…

"…if you tell either of those two about this I'll bite off your tail and boil it." You threaten against his chest, and he laughs, said tail wagging underneath the blanket you share.

"Of course." He chuckles, playfully petting your head. "Of course."

His cheeks almost hurting from smiling so brightly, as the sound of your purr fills the room.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #yoongi imagine #jeon jungkook imagine #jimin imagine #yoongi imagines

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cryptidcorners · 5 months

Note

Can we have Mike taking care of his sick girlfriend? Or vice versa, with the girlfriend taking care of him?

Morning Fever - Mike Schmidt x F!Reader

Description: You're struck with a horrible sickness, and Mike refuses to let you overwork yourself like this. In a way to make up for all you've done for him, he indulges you in a day of soft care.

# requested by anon .

Media: FNaF!Movie

Character: Mike Schmidt

Tags: Girlfriend!Reader, Established Relationship, Fluff, Soft!Mike, Sick!Reader, Care (Receiving), Slice of Life, Domestic, Cute Stuff, Cuddling + (This may or may not be the tall reader from short problems, but height isn't specified ✋)

Warnings: Descriptions Sickness, Unhealthy Work Life Mentions

read my TOS + Mike Schmidt Masterlist

You awoke to a jaded pain in your head, as well as Mike's arms wrapped around your body softly. You figured your sudden aches were due to dehydration, or from your horrific work hours. You rolled onto your side with a tired hum, eyes fixed on his lazy curls and peaceful expression. Your fingertips ghosted to his face tenderly and rubbed featherweighted circles across his bristles with a warm chuckle. His senses were disturbed, and he pressed his lips against yours before opening his eyes.

"Well, good morning." You greeted.

"It's still dark out." Mike replied, voice wreaking in depth from his exhaustion. "You don't go to work in a long time." He asked with a yawn. "Go to sleep."

He rested his head on your shoulder sleepily while he kept hugging you. It'd be a couple more hours before Mike would truly need to get up, as well as you. "I figured I'd just get up early." You sat up, drawing out a desperate grumble from Mike as his grip weakly fell off your body. You chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair, "You know I can't stay in bed forever."

"Yes you can. If your boss has a problem, I'll kick his ass." Mike mumbled with his head buried in his pillow. "Just a few more seconds, please, baby?" He pleaded.

"I got to get ready, Michael." You kissed his head. Before you could stir out of bed, you began coughing violently. In a split second, you could already feel his hands behind your back. He was already rushing to take care of you.

"Are you okay?" He asked and you only replied with a vibrant nod as you cleared your throat. "Yes, I'm—fine. It's just a cough."

Mike frowned and held you close. "No, you sound like you have the flu or something. You want water?"

"No, I can't. I need to go to work." You assured. Mike's palm pressed against your forehead, "You're burning up."

"I just need some air," you protested. "I can't be late."

"I can't let you go out sick like this." Mike continued. He was growing desperate, "Just rest. For me, okay? I can take off today, and I can call your boss."

"Mike," you whispered while growing agitated. As much as you wanted to rest, you were a struggling workaholic. You couldn't just not go. "You need to rest, understand? Do you feel anything else?"

"Just a headache, and my throat is a little raspy." You described. You watched him walk out of the room and into the darkened hallways. Firefly light flickered, illuminating the wooden walls and Mike's moving shadow as he went to scavenge for some type of pill to help you. You coughed, "Mike?"

"Just a second." He called. You could hear the collision of empty bottles and other objects from the cabinets. It wasn't long before he came back with a glass of water and an antibiotic. You knew that type of drug was expensive for him. You straightened up defensively, "I don't think I need it."

"Please, let me take care of you." He extended his hand, "You've done so much for me, this is the least I can do."

You couldn't resist his dreamy eyes and soft personality. In the end, you surrendered and ended up being tended to by him the whole day. Mike had speedily taken Abby to school, called your boss and drowned you in spaced intimacy. Even if you hadn't asked for anything in particular, he read your face and came back in record speed to get whatever he theorized you wanted.

You had forgotten how much you had lacked conversation with him during the work week, especially one as gentle as this. The television buzzing in the background as you both sat on the couch (different sides, of course) just rambling about . . . anything really. Even with his shy character, he still held a spark that could leave you starstruck.

A lot of sneezing and throwing up didn't stop him from leaving your side.

"Are you sure you aren't bored?" You ran a wet paper towel across your face. Mike shrugged, "Of course not." he said softly. "I wouldn't leave you sick like this. I love you,"

"Love you too." You echoed.

A.N: sorry i keep changing the format every post lmfaooo. hope u enjoy ,, went a lil crazy

#💤 mike schmidt #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #fnaf #fnaf movie #💌 request!#writing #writers on tumblr #mike schmidt fluff

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slashingdisneypasta · 29 days

Text

Human!Scar x Younger!Fem!Human!Reader || Drabble

Plot: Scar loves to rub your relationship in the rest of the prides faces since he knows it bothers them. He's a Brat, but you love him.

Warnings: Age difference relationship (/people around you disapproving of it) and a lot PDA. Also sexual references.

Tagging: @asperol-with-izzy , @disney-android-foundation , @lady-love88 , @marinerainbow , @ryantryan6969 , and @thecourtofgraywaves .

As soon as you see Scar approaching the rest of the pride, you hop up from where you were resting, dozing, out in the warm sun and quickly meet him a few bounds away from the others- you know he's here for you, he never visits the pride for anything else. Immediately you greet him with a loving kiss to the cheek and a bright smile.

He mutters something intimate in your ear with a smirk while the other lionesses all watch, and you go hot under everyone's judgemental gazes. God damnit, old man, not these antics again!! You flash him a warning glare, but of course he doesn't care. "Scar, just once, can my boyfriend visit me and not make it a spectacle??"

"Oh, my dear, what's the fun in that??"

"Hello, Scar," Sarabi pipes up in a measured, joyless tone from behind you and you turn around to face your queen, out of respect. The rest of the lionesses refuse to even meet his gaze, but Sarabi's known Scar since they were kids- he's her brother-in-law after all- and she's just... classy. And kind. You like her for that, as well as her dry sense of humour, so you certainly done blame her for disliking him. So long as you can act hospitable, not make your distaste anyone's problem, then you can dislike whoever you want on as little grounds as you want, as far as you're concerned.

... the rest of these bitches, though... Your eyes darken a little, giving the gossipy judgy women all a frustrated, disappointed look as they all look mildly irritated just by Scar's presence. And his body stood so 'inappropriately' close to yours. They're just ridiculous.

When Scar's arm slips around your waist and rests there lazily, you give a surprised gasp; neck snapping so you can look at him. Seriously!?? Honestly, yes, you don't care what these old biddies think about you relationship- but m u s t h e make it so hard on Sarabi?? She's trying!

Yes, apparently, he must, says the mischievous lethargic grin on his handsome face. "Sarabi... you look lovely today. My, what a lucky brother I have."

Sarabi rolls her eyes almost all the way up into her skull, while you stand there quite awkwardly. Scar, shut up. "Scar, don't be brutish."

"Simply stating a fact, Sarabi. Anyway... " Scar's gaze falls on your head so close, and the next thing you know he's nuzzling you; making you freeze. You love it, you love Scar's touch, but r I G H T NOW!?? "Going on a hunt today, are you all?... "

"Did Y/N tell you that?" One of the other lionesses cuts in (Snaps); a very sharp tone in her voice that you don't like at all and causes you to glare daggers at her even as Scar completely lacks a responce to it. His arm around your waist does squeeze for a moment though, as if telling to calm down, now, I'm fine dear...

"I did." You respond shortly, instead, but leave it at that; turning fully into Scar now and letting him do whatever he wants. If they cant act cordial, then neither will you. He gives a devious smirk at your actions, and gently catches your chin between his thumb and his curled forefinger. His eyes bore into yours, so impossibly-venomously-prettily green, and as always you lose yourself in them.

"She did, and I'm just here to bid her goodbye for the afternoon~ So if you'll excuse us, thank you."

Instead of walking you away from the group though, despite his excuse, Scar merely removes his attention from them completely and he's all yours. God, he loves doing this, being intimate where the rest of the pride can see what he's doing. What he does to you. Every time he seems to take it a step further, too; getting more and more shameless in his old age as you've told him before.

Oh? 'Old'?? He'd asked, a look of mock offence on his face.

... practically ancient, you'd told him back; digging your hole in even deeper and smirking about it. Then he'd approached you, or prowled towards you more like, with that predatory look on his devastatingly striking face, raised your chin up, rubbed the tip of his nose roughly against yours, and then kissed you. Then you did some things that the ladies here would definitely drop their jaws over.

With the memory lingering in your mind, you give a quiet sigh; lowering your voice so only Scar can hear. "... you're here to say goodbye, huh?" You ask quietly, holding onto the sides of his clothing.

"Well, that's true. I am."

"Oh, you are a gentile suitor, huh?" You tease, sarcasm gently filling your whisper-voice even as Scar cups your face now; brushing his thumbs methodically across your cheeks and making you feel weak. With all this happening, you almost forget you're being watched by almost the entire pride sans Mufasa. "When'd that happen?"

"I assure you, my dear,.. " He comes in close to your face, so close your noses almost touch. "I'm still a rogue." He growls, then swoops in the rest of the way and presses a hot kiss to your mouth; making you feel a bit, embarrassingly, weak in the knees. Its a deep kiss, but not obscenely long in duration before he's pulling away, letting you go and strolling off. "Goodbye, have a good hunt."

You're left Kissed, warm all over and alone in front of the lionesses- the realisation that they were there that entire time crashing back over you all of a sudden. You give them an awkward smile and a waive, before returning swiftly to your spot among them and ducking your head down; pleased and embarrassed at once. Oh lord. Damnit Scar.

#(if i may add- sarabi doesnt like scar but she's happy for you XD #you seem to be happy and it keeps him out of trouble XD )#Scar #Disney Scar #Disney Scar x Reader Drabble #Scar x Reader Drabble #Disney Scar x Reader #Scar x Reader #Drabble #Disney Villains #Disney Villains x Reader

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kangen-wanshi · 11 months

Text

Recorded Proposals ft. Trey Clover, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto

"I'm glad that that whole mess is done now.. Though I guess it's kind of a shame that I didn't get to actually propose to the bride, huh. I practiced a lot, too..!"

"Oh, don't worry, Prefect! I have all of your practice proposals recorded!"

".. What? Wait, Ortho what do you mean you have it recorded — Ortho- Hey!"

Tags: Separate, proposals and daydream and all the sweet stuff, no gendered pronouns used but reader is mentioned to be wearing make-up and such in Trey's

Trey Clover

"I know that you're no longer alive.. I know that we couldn't enjoy the joy of mortal entertainment and woes, but.. Even after death, I wish to always stay by your side and go through whatever there is ahead and build a bright future with you! So please.. Marry me!"

Trey got the video from Cater. One day the orangette sent him the video through DMs with just a wink emoji and some teasing about his crush on you and he just sort of accepts it with a light blush.

Trey watches that specific part over and over whenever he is about to go to bed (he refuses to watch it anywhere else). Your words stuck to him - whether it is because of the oddly sincere look in your eyes when you speak, or your beautiful attire, or perhaps your styled hair and make-up — He doesn't know why he's so addicted to it.

It became a sort of charm for him to have a good sleep (which sometimes involves having you in his dream). Your words rang and echoed through his mind when Trey finally shut his eyes and cuddled his blanket at night, ready to dream about you after a particularly long day.

Sometimes he likes to daydream that you were saying those words to him, as cringe as it sounds to his opinion. Trey always ended up a blushing mess with a lovesick grin on his face whenever that specific thought came up randomly throughout the day. He always hides himself with a hand over his mouth or his hat being pulled just a little lower. He's blushing? No. The weather probably just got a little warmer..

He's a sucker for anything that involves 'building a future together'. He's a big family man, he wishes to have his own family one day, preferably with you in the picture of course. As his partner. Domesticity is just sort of his thing at this point and he's not even denying it.

Maybe he should come clean to you.. Maybe you managed to spur out these specific words that tug on his heartstrings because you, too, want it for yourself. Perhaps in those silly proposals, you let out a small speck of your desire, which is why it seems so genuine in his eyes..

Either way he still acted normally around you. He would bring up the topic of the video and the proposals every now and then to tease you - without outing himself about the fact that he has a personal copy of it.

Perhaps he'll invite you to bake more often. Perhaps he'll invite you to various normal 'dates' and activities together. You can study together.. You can watch movies together.. Oh hey look his hand found yours, did he just intertwine your fingers together? You don't mind if he stays there for a while.. Right?

Leona Kingscholar

"I know what other people may say. You and I are.. Different, in every aspect. Yet I couldn't help but be drawn to you. To your beauty, your flaws. The way you love and the way you hate.. All of it..! And I promise you, I'll love you through and through - no matter what people may say. No matter what you'll become. Will you.. Marry me?"

Not sure how he got the video.. Most likely asked Ruggie to get it for him in secret? He made a deal with Azul to get a copy? Who knows. He doesn't really care where he got it from - it's with him now.

Leona watches it in the middle of the night. He likes to snicker and chuckle at your other failed attempts. It's a.. Good pastime. When he feels particularly terrible after a day, he watches your silly acting trying to propose to a dead Princess as a way of entertainment.

He got attached to that specific line of your proposals without even realizing. Whenever he went to watch it, he would usually skip to that part specifically to hear you say those words again and again. Except this time he isn't laughing. Rather he looks quite intense listening to your words.

Why do you have to stare so intently at the camera..? It made the experience a little too realistic to his liking. Now he needs to deal with the hammering noises in his heart, heat that slowly pools on his cheek, and his tail which swish and flick around.. Darn Herbivore you're making his sleep a little more difficult this time and you're not even here with him!

Leona doesn't daydream, but some part of your words does strike a nerve in him. You said you'd love someone despite your differences and their flaws? What a coincidence. You and him have lots of flaws and you're pretty different from each other. Right? He just lets those words keep on repeating over and over in his mind whenever he feels like it.

Actually he listened to your voice so much in his head now that he couldn't handle not hearing your voice. Leona doesn't usually have his phone with him but Ruggie noticed that he's been carrying it with him a lot lately.. Even though Leona still doesn't answer any of his calls or texts. He brought them so he could listen to you when he knew that would have a particularly busy day. He even converted the video to mere audio so he can listen to it.

Leona is also another one who acted mostly normal around you. He doesn't really bring up the event - considering that he failed miserably himself with his proposal attempt, so he doesn't like bringing it up.

But you noticed that his stare has become.. Longer, and that his hold on you linger, followed by his tail which often would cling to you whenever you're within proximity. Hey, what did you mean by you'll love anyone despite your vast differences? Huh? What do you mean those were just fake proposals? Come on answer the question, he's listening.

Azul Ashengrotto

"I've seen all of you. Your past, and your current self. And I don't doubt that you still have many many sides of you that are hidden from the world. Sides that you love- sides that you hate. I wish to love all of them, all of you - including your future. And.. Well there's no other way than to tie ourselves with love and marriage so that I may achieve this dream of mine.. Right?"

Either he got it from Idia who got it from Ortho, or he straight up asked Ortho, Azul will have his way to watch that video. A determined one, and everyone knows how Azul is when he wants something to be part of his possession.

At first he keeps telling himself that this is for academic purposes. He failed his own proposal back then despite his careful calculation and thorough planning, he just.. he wants to know how you handle it since you're the charming Prefect of Ramshackle! Of course! You would be a great reference should anything similar like this arise in the future!

Azul clips every part that he deemed important (keeps telling himself that these are bookmarks for the highlight of your proposal but really these are just his favorite parts.) Which includes you giggling at yourself because of how stupid the proposal was, or you being utterly embarrassed because of what you said. He has them in short clips!

Although there is a clip which he finds himself constantly repeating. He found your words to be.. Comforting and flattering. At first he thought that maybe this is his ideal proposal. And then he nodded to himself before continuing his said research. And then he immediately snapped back and realized that Oh Sevens is this his ideal proposal?!

Azul finds the idea that you, perhaps, would be willing to love him no matter the amount of facades he has to put up for his business, to be extremely endearing and beneficial to him. He would have your affection, while he's still able to keep up with his Deals. Why would he hate the idea? If not, it made him want you even more than he already did. (Even though he knew these were probably just you sputtering some romantic nonsense to gain the Princess' heart.. He.. Likes to wish. He just hope he could fulfill this specific wish of his own now..)

Since then he couldn't watch the video seriously anymore. He would be blushing - not to that specific part but to literally every other proposal you practiced (although that has become his favorite).

Azul doesn't daydream. He wants things and he will have them. Including you.

He would become more bold in his advances. He keeps falling in love with you over and over whenever he watches or remembers the video - it's only fair that he should start making you fall for him over and over.

So, Prefect, Azul has this new business idea and it involves you.. Oh don't worry you'll gain plenty of benefit from it! Would you like to at least talk about it or consider it? You would? Brilliant! Meet him in the VIP room he already has everything prepared!.. What do you mean you saw a marriage contract on his table?

#x reader #reader insert #les does writing #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #trey clover x reader #twst trey x reader #trey x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twst leona x reader #leona x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst azul x reader #azul x reader

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n30nwrites · 11 months

Text

When the Bard seduces the Prince

Summary: Having left your old kingdom, you didn't expect to find yourself back in a palace, especially meeting the cold Targaryen prince known as Aemond. After the struggle of finally admitting your feelings, it did not take long for the two of you to take matters into your own hands.

a/n: I thought of adding more, cause I had a story ending in mind but you guys are really only here for the sex so.

Word Count: 3.6k

Reader: Amab, He/Him (Referred as youngest son and you definitely have a penis) Top Reader, Bottom Aemond

Warnings: SMUT (18++ no minors interact), Praise, degrading, Oral (m receiving), Aemond is fucked dumb (dumbification), dry humping, size kink, dirty talk, riding for like a hot sec, unprotected sex (even if your gay its still probably best to wrap it), begging, hickeys, fingering, grinding, anal, blowjob (swallows), face-fucking, Aemond is possessive but so are you, Small bit of Angst, small bit of Fluff, mainly was writing for porn but added some plot because why not, mentions character death, and Aegon is just a shitty person but only mentioned never really described. Does cussing really need to be a trigger warning after all those tags?

Disclaimer: I don't own House of the Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor story line nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated.

How long had it been?

Since you had seen your palace walls? "Your palace" was wrong, your father had still been king when you left, and you would've gotten news had it been anything else. The cunt called your father was far too cruel to be a king, more of a tyrant that didn't care for others. He had six wives, each died either to childbirth or sickness. Because he had only ever wanted heirs, never gave them rest.

He got them. 8 sons, 6 daughters. You were the youngest of the sons (from what you are aware of), and out of the children of 14, the 10th child. In short terms, you were never going to see a throne, though that didn't stop you from having certain privileges. You were still the son of a king, so land and a title would still be given.

You had loved your mother before she died, she was his third wife. The fourth wife was just as kind, but quickly succumbed to the birthing bed. The fifth wife was cruel, and only gave daughters and was therefore deemed cursed. The sixth, and last one that you had met, seemed okay.

No longer were you deemed "The young prince" a title given by your father. You had much preferred the title that the people in the kingdom gave you, "The Princely Bard." because that was all you wanted to be.

A bard, you played a multitude of instruments, things you picked up from your visits in the streets, people were cruel, and even monstrous. But when they worked together, it was beautiful.

You left shortly after your favorite brother died, he was the 3rd eldest, healthy and lively. It was sudden, his body turned purple and blood poured from his eyes and mouth and you had found him like that. The medic said poison, and it quickly made you realize that this castle could no longer keep you safe.

Your siblings became cruel with each other, apathetic. The halls were bland and you had refused to be drained by the crown. You loved your siblings, but you would not die for them.

Especially not for a crown that only has power when people gave it power.

You traveled by boat, The North froze your ass off but Cregan welcomed you warmly despite not even knowing you were a prince. You gained popularity for your songs, your energy. No one really knew what the Young prince looked like, and with your hair cut and having grown more, you didn't seem that recognizable anymore. You sung for the king in Dorne, and got new robes that made you look even finer than you would.

Then you went to Westeros. Dawned in a yellow robe that showed off your body, with your lute strapped onto your back. Westeros was filled with the worst of the worst. Dorne had an acceptance of prostitutes, polyamory, and Bastards. Westeros treated them like they were scum, and yet Dorne was considered savage?

You found it stupid.

And you were vocal, very vocal about your thoughts. You sung about the politics in Westeros, how it was stupid to argue against a woman as a ruler because it's usual that the first born is the ruler, and that men just cause problems. Plus Aegon would be a horrid king, he couldn't even treat women right what makes them think he would be a good king? You had ran into him multiple times in the whorehouse, he had propositioned you multiple times as well.

Aegon was pretty, but he was a horrid man.

You didn't think you would ever meet the Targaryen family. They kept to themselves for the most part. The King was barely showing up to court, Aegon frequented the whorehouses and taverns, Heleana kept to herself in the garden with her fascination with bugs, and Aemond had been studying and training his entire life ever since his eye was cut out, all inside the castle walls. The Future queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen had moved to Dragonstone with her husband Daemon and her children.

Seperated, the house would continue to fall.

It was all fascinating to watch. But not to be a part of the game of thrones, so you had never expected an invitation to the palace.

The invitation was for the wedding of Aegon and Heleana, Siblings to be married because it was a Targaryen tradition. You had been invited to perform there, as your praises had been sung by many council members, the same ones who gave you the information about the family in the first place. It was truly an honor, and the food was something you had missed from your old life. So you had practiced, and perfected, and when the big day came?

You played your heart out.

Maybe that was what caught his attention. You playing your heart out, finding true happiness in the words you sung as you swayed to the rhythm in the songs.

"We'll do it all, everything, on our own."

He stared at you, his posture stiff and everything about him was neat, his outfit was perfect, his hair was perfect, everything about him was perfect. Aemond Targaryen was the perfect son, the prodigal son that deserved better. And Everything was going the way he planned, until he saw you.

Love at first sight doesn't exist, but lust does, and with lust can follow romance.

These feelings he had blossoming for you made his chest ache and his lips quiver.

He chose to dance for your song, any woman was glad to dance with him, and he just wanted to focus on you. He had picked a Martell, and she didn't speak much which caused him to easily pretend he was focusing on her.

"If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?"

Your voice was beautiful, and Aemond just craved to hear you talk to him, and him alone. Some possessive urge for you to belong to him. Aemond never felt like he belonged, never felt like he had something to call his own, even his dragon was supposed to belong to someone else, supposedly. He wanted you to be his.

"Those three words Are said too much They're not enough"

During the bedding ceremony, Aemond sought you out. Ignoring the looks from the women and men, he found you eating in the kitchen.

"Is it normal for you to leave the party so early?"

"You consider that early, my prince?" You smiled at him, and he almost fell to his knees. "I do not wish to watch the consumption of their marriage. I figured it would be best to get my pay and leave."

He couldn't let you leave, not when you've already affected him this much. "My mother is looking for someone to play the gathering held in a few months. She believes you would be perfect." All lies, all to get you to stay. "She has a room for you ready, you would need to confirm all music with her, along with preparing for the gathering."

"Is that so, my prince?" You gave him a coy smile. And Aemond fell hard.

He fell first, landing hard on his knees for you.

Yours was much softer. It took a few weeks to even see him that way. You spent so many moments with him. Walking in the garden or even chasing after Aegon together.

He showed you books, poetries and the histories of the kingdoms, mainly focusing on Westeros. You two spoke of the politics, of his hatred over a fourteen year old. Lucerys didn't deserve the hatred he got, but neither did Aemond. The library was considered a safe space for you.

And you got along with everyone. Alicent didn't seem to mind you, and she seemed to stare lovingly at the two of you whilst you trained with him. Aegon wasn't as rude as he had been to others, which Aemond considers that polite, and Heleana and you were almost as close as you and he were. Otto seemed to be the only one with a problem, and Aemond didn't care much for his feelings.

It was no surprise what followed next.

When Aemond finally accepted his feelings for you, he ignored you. Threw himself into his studying and training and ignored you. After the gathering, you had figured that was that. Tried to say goodbye and instead was greeted with Aemond being cruel to you, saying that there was no use to say goodbye as you were just here for a job. He wouldn't have even noticed you were gone.

It hurt, of course it hurt. You were just starting to fall in love with him. But you weren't going to grovel for him, nor would you cry over him. You just stared him in the eyes and turned away and left.

But not without taking something.

A dragon had hatched, small and black and golden, beautiful. And it flew straight to you as you got into the carriage to leave the castle. It was long and small, and wrapped around your neck, laying on your shoulder. You hid him quickly with your hood as he purred against you.

A dragon, one that seemed to bond to you. He brought you companionship, and while it would baffle some, you had known your family history. Afterall, it wasn't possible that it was just the Targaryen bloodline that escaped Old Valyria, your family had too come from a dragonlord that had isolated himself, before building up his own land.

This dragon was yours, and you were proud to have him.

You weren't going to spend anymore time in Westeros. Figured you wouldn't think of Aemond if you weren't in his kingdom.

But he found you, well you were wanted.

For the theft of a dragon.

The guards found you quickly, anyone was tempted to out you for the cash reward, any man insane enough to steal a fire-breathing dragon was obviously dangerous. You were thrown in a cell quickly, your dragon screaming for you as you screamed at them. "Get your filthy hands off of him! Amrak!" You called for him and he screeched.

You didn't get food for two days, and on the third, Aemond came with a cup of water and porridge. He stood there as you laid down, barely lifting your head.

"You stole a dragon."

"He came to me."

"You committed a crime against the crown."

"Amrak is mine, he chose me."

"You are not a Targaryen." He tsked.

"And yet he is mine." you spoke in high Valyrian. Aemond wasn't the only one that studied, as much as you hated your family and would not die for them you loved every part of them, the history, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

"you were planning to leave." He stated, and you nodded. "Why?"

"I have nothing for me here." It was time to see your old kingdom, time to make the full circle and come back.

"I am here."

"You rejected me." you stated, "you said you wouldn't miss me. You didn't want me the way I wanted you."

"I've wanted you from the moment I saw you." Aemond got closer, "I have wanted you and only you and it is wrong. You are a commoner, a dragonseed, it seems, yet you have captured my interests, my heart, you are the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think of when I sleep. You have entered my dreams and I cannot escape your eyes, nor your smile." Aemond's hands reached your cheeks and you got closer to him. "You are mine, you have been since I first saw you and you cannot leave me."

"You are mine Aemond Targaryen, and I am yours."

Aemond got you out of your cell, easily defending you to the court, to his mother, and to his grandfather. Alicent had never seen her favorite son act like this before, defending this thief with everything he had. Otto had disapproved of everything, almost sending you to be killed until you had interrupted.

"I could always claim to be the first born son of the king if you'd like." You smiled, having already known Alicent and Otto's plans for Westeros. "I claimed a dragon, very little would question it."

It was an agreement, you would stay in Aemond's wing, remaining hidden in the castle. You and Aemond only got closer.

It was strange, feeling this way about him. You and Aemond no longer hid behind flirtatious smiles, but instead were very open with how you two felt.

God, he was handsome.

The day was a warm day, you had decided to wear some of your Dornish clothing. A bright brown with red accents that was a gift from an ex-lover. You had decided to spend that day with Amrak, he had gotten a little bigger, but not enough to consider kicking him off your shoulders. You stayed in your room with him until it was time to eat, where you took him to feed on the sheep, whilst you ran into Aemond on your way back.

Since the start of your freedom to love each other, he had not been shy about his opinions on you. He stared at you, unabashed with his tongue darting out to wet his lips, you stood taller than him and smiled warmly.

"I haven't seen you at all today."

"I've been with Amrak, and you have been training."

"Yes, I was just on my way to undress." He informed, a tease in his eyes as if you wouldn't dare to join him, he pushed past you gently, and your pursuit for food was forgotten, because Aemond could fulfill any desire you had.

You had locked the door behind him as he slowly starting to take off his clothes, not looking at you but he had known you were behind him. Instead of helping, you decided to follow along, taking a few steps closer to him before taking off the top of your robe, undoing the knots that held it together to reveal your chest.

Patience was a virtue you did not have.

You reached for him, undoing the armor on him leaving him in his shirt and pants, you grabbed at his shoulder and turned him around to face you, pushing him close to you as your mouths collided in a passionate kiss, he reached for your naked chest, pushing his fingers deep into your skin. The two of you could not get enough of each other.

Aemond reached lower, grabbing your ass and massaging them as you two grinded your growing erections on to each other. His hands came to the front, untying them and yanking them down, he pushes you to sit on the bed as he lowers his own body to the ground. Your hand reaches for his head.

And he was beautiful on his knees.

You sat up on the bed, eyeing him as he eyes your cock, hard and long, precum at the top slowly oozing out and Aemond, second prince of the Targaryens, on his knees, hair pulled back only because your hand was wrapped in it, his mouth ‘o’ shaped as drool drizzles down. He stared at it, not even meeting your eyes but you watched as the saliva fell onto your dick, it twitching due to it.

“God your so cock hungry, it’s fucking pathetic” you look at his wide blown eye, shiny and only looking at one thing. “So desperate, my prince, and for a commoners cock…” Another lie you couldn't confess to him, but from the way his hips reached into the air, Aemond seemed to enjoy being talked down on.

Aemond’s mouth was watering, wanting to taste the male in front of him. The second son would’ve never thought that he would be in this position. He had never imagined his life this way, liking men, and especially this man.

God he was in love with you.

As quickly as he came to the thought, you had pulled his head towards your cock, aiming it at his mouth before pushing it into his wet mouth, the pathetic prince desperately got close, licking and sucking as if that was the one role he was good at.

"So fucking pathetic." Aemond moaned loudly, despite him being muffled from your long cock. His tongue licked up and down your shaft as saliva was coating it, you moaned with him. "Such a good cocksucker, my prince." you praised as he went deeper, his nose hitting your naval as he gagged, you did not go gently, your grip on his hair got tighter as you pushed him up and down.

your toes curled as he sucked, and your balls felt heavy as any moment you felt you could cum. "I'm gonna cum..." You expected him to stop, to take his mouth off of you and just jerk you off. But Aemond was hungry for you and instead he put you deeper, and when you came he closed his mouth around you, breathing through his nose and swallowing you.

"God I love you." Your dick fell limp, but only for a few moments would it remain that way. You pulled him up and kissed him, your tongue massaging his as you tasted yourself on him, both of you moaning into each other as your hips collided and he rolled. Your dick was becoming half hard just from your own thoughts, and you were quick to yank off his shirt, tearing it off of him and leaving hickeys as you sucked and licked and bit his neck. You pulled down his pants along with his underwear, and was greeted by his pale skin and long cock.

Your hands trailed behind his back before gripping his ass.

"I want you inside." Aemond groaned as he lifted his hips up, and your fingers quickly found his hole.

"Not without preparing." you quickly stuck your fingers into his mouth and he sucked, "Such a cockwhore, willing to hurt yourself for me. We can't have that, now can we." Aemond's eye flashed down to you as you stared at him. You knew what was behind his eye patch, the brilliant sapphire that was hidden by leather, your other hand quickly left his round ass and found it on the back of his head, as you quickly undid the eye patch and revealed everything to yourself. Aemond closed his eyes but you took your fingers out of his mouth and forced him to look at you.

"Keep your eyes open, I want to see everything when I fuck you." Your wet fingers slowly circled his entrance, before you pushed one in. His eye widened but he kept focusing on you, your finger slowly thrusting in and out as your other hand started touching his cock.

"Please, please, please..." He kept mumbling over and over again. "Want you inside, want you, want you, want your cock, want your thick cock inside me, want you to stretch me out and fuck me."

"So cock dumb, my pretty prince, more like my whore with the way you're taking my finger, so tight. How are you gonna take my cock when you can't even take my finger?"

"I can take it. I can take it. I can take it." He became so stupid, and in his moment of distraction you put another finger in him and he pushed himself on to you. And eventually a third finger joined, pushing them in as deep as you could. "Please I want your cock!" tears filled his eye and you quickly stopped your ministrations and he groaned. Your cock was hard and he pushed it towards his hole, desperate for you, you made sure his hole was right above you and he sat down on you, quickly filling him up as he let out a yell.

You turned his body around on the bed so that you were above him, pushing his hips down and slowly taking your cock out, leaving just your tip in as he whined and twisted. You pushed him down again keeping him straight, and shoved it back in and he moaned loudly. His legs flew into the air and wrapped around you, pushing you into him as much as he could, his ankles digging into your back. Your cock stretched him, and he was so thin despite his muscles, and you could almost swear you could see an outline of your cock in his stomach, and you went feral.

"Mine." You were quick with your thrusts, in and out as you pressed against his prostate constantly. One of your hands left his waist as you pushed against your own cock. "Look at how well you take me. Mine, Mine, Mine." your hand then left to touch his cock, and he threw his head back.

"Feels so good, so good, let me come, please let me come."

"You can come, but I'm not going to stop." His hips shifted into the air, and his cum shot up into the air, but you didn't stop, you were going to fill him up. His cum coated his chest and instead you took his hand and dipped his fingers into his own cum before shoving his hand into his mouth, making him taste himself before his hands wrapped back around you.

Thrust after thrust, you got closer and Aemonds hands wrapped around you as you lifted him up, his nails left scratches on your back. Your cock twitched multiple times before you came inside him, he let out moans loudly as you joined him, both of you panting as you leaned your forehead against his. His hole twitched as you gently took yourself out, he let out little breathy moans as you watched your cum slowly drip out of him, before you pushed it back inside of him.

"Well this is a development..." Aegon said, and Aemond and you turned in horror as your secret was no longer between you two.

"Aegon get out now!" You hissed through your teeth as you covered up Aemond with the blanket on his bed, the second prince felt fear and anger at what his elder brother would do.

Aegon giggled as he slammed the door shut.

"We're fucked."

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stars-and-inkpots · 7 months

Text

Promise Me | Gale x Reader

Gale accepts his fate so eagerly, and you don't understand why. You don't understand how he can leave everything- how he can leave you behind without hesitation.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, can be read as platonic

Notes: I don't have much to say about this one other than that I love Gale a lot and the fact that he just agreed to this in game makes me so sad when I think about it too deeply

Ao3 Link: Promise Me

Word Count: 1,415

When Elminster showed up, in the Underdark no less, to tell Gale that he could earn his Goddess’s forgiveness by effectively killing himself, you could hardly understand it. What made you even more confused, was Gale’s apparent acceptance of the task.

You had tried to interrupt them. You tried to explain how irrational the whole idea was, but Gale only waved away your attempts. He was accepting the task, seemingly eager to be a martyr.

You expect Gale to change his mind once Elminster leaves. You expect him to tell you that he only agreed so he could get the orb under control. But when Elminster is gone, Gale affirms his choice once more. Nothing you said could change his mind, and he refused to talk on the matter any more for the rest of the night.

It was cruel of Mystra to ask this of him, and you can’t understand how Gale can’t see this.

The next morning, Gale acts as though the whole interaction never happened.

He’s still smiling, still full of sarcastic comments that always seemed to lighten the mood while you all made your way through the Underdark. The next day is much the same.

Everytime you try to talk to him, he’s conveniently out doing something else, or so busy with his studies that he “absolutely cannot spare a single moment.” As much as you care about him, it’s starting to annoy you just how long he’s willing to continue ignoring you.

“Glaring at him every time he’s not looking isn’t going to accomplish much, my dear,’ Astarion says quietly. You’ve been walking back to camp for the better half of an hour, and you know you should be paying more attention to what’s around you given how dangerous the Underdark can be.

“I know,” you grumble.

“Have you talked with him about it?” The two of you are quiet enough that Gale won’t hear you.

“No. He’s been avoiding me.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Astarion hums. “I imagine he’s scared.”

“Of me or blowing up?” You joke, maybe in poor taste, but it’s the first smile you’ve had in a while and Astarion appreciates the humour given the situation.

“Both, definitely both.” Astarion smiles. “You can be quite scary when you’re angry. Maybe he thinks blowing up will be easier than answering to you.” It’s an awful thing to joke about, you think again, but you laugh anyway because there really is nothing else you can do. “I mean it though, that’s probably why he hasn’t said anything about it. As much as I hate to defend him, I’m sure he’s just trying not to think about it.”

“You’re being strangely thoughtful, Astarion; dare I say considerate,” you tease. Astarion raises a hand to his chest in mock pain.

“You wound me, pet. Am I not such a beacon of empathy all of the time?”

“Alright, alright,” you laugh, loud enough this time for the whole group to hear. You wait a few moments before speaking again, sure that no one is still listening. “I’ll talk to him tonight then. I promise I won’t be too mean to him.” Of course, you couldn’t be mean to the man if you tried. You could be annoyed with Gale all you wanted, but you know that you would never be able to voice that anger. You know the look on Gale’s face would be too much, and you would immediately feel terrible. You know your anger is not truly anger. It’s fear, and it’s sadness.

---

“Gale, I wanted to talk with you.” You watch as Gale freezes, hand reaching for the book he wasn’t quick enough to pick up before you arrived.

“Ah, my apologies, I was just about to-” Gale trails off when he finally looks up at you.

You don’t look angry, you look like you’re already grieving. You can feel the tears that already threaten to fall, and you know they likely will soon. “Gale,” you whisper, because you know your voice can’t handle any more than that without faltering. “Please. I just want to talk.”

“Alright,” Gale relents. He lets you inside the tent first, sitting down across from him on the organised mess of blankets surrounded by books. He looks guilty when he looks back at you, but he doesn’t say anything yet; you know he’s waiting for whatever you have to say. You can’t bring yourself to look at him yet.

“I’m sorry,” you start, and Gale is both surprised and confused. “I haven’t been very fair to you. I was so caught up in how I felt about everything that I didn’t consider how you might think of it.”

Gale expected you to yell; to show some sort of resentment for his apparent acceptance of the terms of his ‘apology’ to Mystra.

“I know I can’t change your mind. If you decide you want to go through with this, it’s your decision. I just want you to promise me something.” You finally look up at him, and Gale can see you’re crying now.

“I can try,” Gale answers honestly. He’s never been fond of promises, especially when they could be so easily broken.

You make a pained sort of noise. “Please. Promise.” You move closer to him, close enough that your knees are touching his.

“I promise,” Gale decides. He’ll keep this one. If there are any promises he will keep, it has to be this one. You look relieved, but the frown creasing your brow hasn’t left you yet. The expression doesn’t suit you, Gale thinks, having grown accustomed to seeing you smiling so often despite everything. Knowing that he’s the reason for it only serves to make him feel worse.

“Whenever you decide you’re going to do it, whether you decide that morning or the night before, you have to let me say goodbye. You can’t just leave when no one is looking. You have to tell me. You have to say goodbye to me.” Even though Gale already promised, it still feels like you’re begging him for this. The thought of never knowing when the last time you would see him would be made you sick. If he was going to go through with this, he had to give you this. You had to have the opportunity to say goodbye to him. To see him one last time.

Gale doesn’t know what to say. He’s made the promise, but he knows it will be easier for himself if he leaves before he can change his mind. He knows that he has to leave well before anyone can hope to catch up with him if he wants any chance that they would be safe from the aftermath. He knows that if he has to face you before he leaves, he’s not going to be able to go through with it. You’ll only make him remember how much he truly doesn’t want to die- how terrified he is of death.

So instead of saying anything, Gale leans forward and hugs you.

You’re quick to wrap your arms tightly around him, clutching at the back of his shirt like he’s already about to leave. He lets you sob into his shirt, only just holding back tears himself.

Is this what it’s like? To have someone care about you so completely- unconditionally. Someone who cares for not only your safety above all else, but would beg you for just the chance to say goodbye before you leave. You had assured him there had to be another way, and at the time, Gale assumed it was simply because you didn’t want to risk being caught in the crossfire. But now he knows that it wasn’t that at all. The thought of Gale’s death scares you just as much as it does himself.

“I’m not leaving,” he says quietly. “You said we can find another way. We’ll find it.”

“I don’t want to stop you from doing what you want to do. It’s your choice, Gale, but you have to know that it’s unfair of Her to ask this of you. You don’t deserve this.” You don’t want him to change his mind because of you. You want him to change his mind because he understands his life is worth it. His life is worth more than the forgiveness of a Goddess who doesn’t care about him.

Gale’s arms tighten around you. He may not believe your words just yet, but it’s a start.

It’s a promise.

#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate gale #gale x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #gale x you #x reader fic #gale dekarios

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serenityinstone · 1 month

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Feline Fiasco

Hetalia x Reader

This is written for a female reader but there isn't really anything specific that would suggest that besides a few references. If you want to read, I'm not going to stop you.

Also (Y/n) is completely uninterested in the countries for the majority of this, all she's interested in is the cats. This is way fluffier than anything else I've posted, which is two things, and this part is relatively America-centric because (Y/n) works for him. This is also way less quality work than those two posts but idk deal with it?

There is more to this but it's unfinished and I'll probably never post it. My friend also helped with the cat names so if you don't like them... uh assume that they chose them. One last note, I thought it would be funny to write the accents so you also have to deal with that.

As one of the many secretaries working in the White House, it was actually quite a surprise to you that you ended up as the main secretary to the human personification of the U.S.A.

Because of this, you had become quite close to Mr. F. Jones and more importantly: his cat.

You couldn't help but coo at the adorable and floofy feline. Sure, you should probably finish filing those papers, but national security can wait a few more minutes. Besides you couldn't resist the allure of the purr. It would be an understatement to say, when you learned that the other personifications also had furry friends of their own, you were excited.

America didn't want you interacting with the other countries, especially not Russia. But you honestly didn't care and you weren't the recording secretary for those meetings, so it's not like you were in attendance anyways. That somehow didn't stop you from having to tag along and meeting more nation cats; of which you weren't sure why they had brought them along in the first place. It's not like you were complaining.

Ball of fur after ball of fur. No cat went un-petted. Except for Germany's cat; he had evaded you time and time again. But no longer! For today was the last day and you were going to pet that cat if it was the last thing you did.

There it was. It's sleek black fur, the ribbon in Germany's signature colors around its neck, and that always alert look on its face. He would evade you no more. You crouched down in your very inflexible pencil skirt and prepared to pounce.

"Vhat are jou doing?" A voice thick with a German accent called out, startling you and the cat who decided to bound back towards him and into his arms.

"Uhhhh." You blanked.

"You're America's secretary right? Vat vere jou trying to do to my cat?" He questioned, eyes narrowing with suspicion.

You gulped and tried to explain your actions in a way that didn't sound absolutely ridiculous.

"I-uh. I wanted to pet your cat and… he kept evading me and I thought if I snuck up on him that I could pet him." You looked away and pitifully whispered, "Sorry."

"If jou vanted to pet him, all you had to do was ask."

"Really!?" Your eyes lit up and you looked up at the German with pure and unbridled excitement. He coughed and looked away with a slight blush resting on his cheeks.

"Of course." He held the cat out. You, with no hesitation whatsoever, immediately started to adore and love the cat, even shifting it from Germany's arms to your own.

As you continued to pet the cat, who despite his earlier refusal, seemed quite happy, you asked Germany a question. "My name's (Y/n). What's yours if you're willing to share? No pressure though."

His eyes widened a bit before he shook it off and gave you an answer. "Ludwig Beilschmidt." He responded, studying his cat. "Germouser seems to like jou."

You could barely stifle a laugh at the name he had given to the black cat. He sensed your amusement and gave an explanation.

"Feli- Italy named him. I vas going to name him Johann or something similar. Italy was zoroughly horrified by my suggestions and vould not rest until I vent vith his."

You smiled at the Italian's antics and shook your head with amusement. "Germouser is a fine name for an absolutely wonderful cat."

Germany seemed to get flustered again as he watched you coo at his cat, completely ignoring his presence. He would have just left him with you, but the meeting was starting soon and he didn't want to be late. Luckily for him, America decided to pop around the corner, demanding your attention. So you were forced to give up the precious kitty cat and return with Mr. Jones.

Alfred was annoyed. Not at you but at everyone else. Why did they have any right to be around you? You were an American citizen. His citizen. Sure, all you were really interested in was their cats. But what if you thought that they and their cats were so cool that you left him and went to live in a different country instead? He couldn't let that happen.

"So, (Y/n), dude, broette." He said on the way to the meeting room. "Here's the deal."

You gave him a look and raised an eyebrow.

"I need someone to watch Hero for me and my sitter flaked so you're gonna be watching him." He fingered-gunned at you and stars seemed to shine in the air around him. This, of course, was nothing new to you. It wasn’t like you would have rather been attending the meeting anyways.

So you stayed in a different unoccupied meeting room with a lovely, furry friend. It wasn't until he started hissing at a corner that you were in trouble.

"Hero, what's wrong?" You asked, concerned at the agitated cat. His tail bristled up and his ears flattened down as he took a defensive position. Out of nowhere another fluffy cat waltzed in from the very corner that Hero had been hissing at. It was Boris, a cat that belonged to Russia.

You hadn't actually gotten to pet him yet because to be honest, you were also scared of Russia. But… He wasn't around… and his cat was. And his cat was purring.

That was about all the reasoning that you needed to brush past Hero and scoop Boris up into your arms. The former started yowling for your attention and followed you as you went to sit down with the Russian cat.

You laid down on the plush carpeted floor and lifted the cat that you were holding up above you. Boris’ fluffy body was placed onto your chest and he immediately started purring louder once he got comfortable. He nuzzled his face into your neck, much to the annoyance of the American cat. Hero yowled at you and pawed at Boris, desperately trying to get him off.

Boris only gave him a smug look in return and kneaded into you, further solidifying his spot. Hero decided that it wasn’t worth the fight and that he was going to get his owner to remove the Russian cat and put him back into his mother’s lap: aka you.

The surprisingly smart and agile cat leapt around the room and pushed down the door handle, slipping out through the crack. You didn’t notice this as you were currently immersed in the bliss of a cat sitting on you and letting you pet it.

Eventually the purring lulled you into a peaceful and warm slumber, the two of you deciding to take a cat nap.

It would be Russia who found you first. Ivan realized that his cat had gone missing and he honestly didn’t care enough about the meeting to stay. It's not like anyone would try to stop him.

So as Hero bounded down the halls towards the meeting room, Mr. Ivan Braginsky came from the other direction; his sense of where his cat was at any one moment was completely uncanny.

The Russian gradually opened the wooden door and it quietly opened without any resistance. He turned his head towards where he heard purring and was met with a surprising sight. It was America’s secretary, with his cat, lying, with his cat.

You were breathing softly and the movements of your chest moving up and down also moved Boris. Ivan couldn’t help but faintly smile at the sight. Said cat opened a singular eye to acknowledge the new presence in the room. He flicked his tail and settled back into his spot. Not wanting to bother you or the cat, Ivan pulled out a chair and sat down.

He pulled out some paperwork, seemingly from nowhere, and began to work on it. The sounds of your quiet breathing, combined with the light purr from Boris, made for a calming work environment.

As the three of you remained in peaceful bliss, another kitty cat was running around the corner on the never ending search for food. Itabby trotted up and down the corridors looking for an open door that might lead to some food that didn’t come from England. Her golden fur glimmered as the sun shined through the many windows in the building. She looked over at a door that had opened slightly and was too blinded by the thought of food to notice the scarily familiar scent coming from the room.

Itabby scampered over to the door but screeched and meowed as she was sent flying by an American blonde and his equally irritated cat. She tentatively peered around the door at the scene forming.

“HEY!” Alfred yelled, startling both you and the cat. You shot up straight, Boris falling into your lap. “What are you doing with her?!” He yelled again, getting his face up into Ivan’s. The other man gave him an unamused look and stood up, towering over him. Alfred, despite this, did not back down and continued to stare angrily at him.

“Go away.” The white-haired male said, his accent heavy as he crossed his arms. “You have startled them with your unnecessary noise. You are just like the rest of your country.”

The air tensed and became heavier as the seconds went on. They began to size each other up as Hero, ironically, “heroically” walked proudly over to you and with his front paws, pushed Boris off of your lap. He quickly took his place and started purring. Boris’ fur began to puff up as he hunched down and prepared to pounce. His back legs flexed and he made the jump, sending both him and Hero flying towards their fighting owners, who were remarkably somehow not in a physical fight. Yet.

You very quickly realized that you did not want to be in the middle of two superpowers fighting and quietly took your leave. (E/c) eyes met feline amber ones and you swept up the cat and made your escape, leaving behind the feuding men and cats.

Itabby snuggled into your arms as you finally slowed down to catch your breath. Her round tail whooshed back and forth as you tiredly walked through the long hallway. The two of you eventually ended up in the rose gardens of the meeting building. The area was well taken care of and beautiful if you did say so yourself. The meeting was taking place in England and Mr. Jones had told you about how the Brit enjoyed gardening, so it made sense as to why it was here.

Speaking of the British, you spotted a fluffy feline shape from the corner of your eye. It was deeper into the gardens and among the trees. Itabby finally decided that it was time to go and return to her owner. She gracefully leaped out of your arms and landed on all fours and trotted off to beg Italy for some pasta. You instead continued your approach to the cat, which at this point, you could tell was a Scottish Fold.

The left side of his face was brown and so was his tail. Alike to his owner, he seemed to have what you assumed were some kind of eyebrows and when he opened his eyes to look at you, his olive eyes stared into yours. He flicked his tail and layed back down onto the wall that he was laying on. His collar jingled as he moved and you quietly moved up to him. On the gold circle attached to the same olive color collar, was a name.

‘Scone’ You thought. ‘Oh my god. This is the most English cat name I have ever seen.’

You almost started laughing but the smoldering glare the cat gave you made you think otherwise. The stone wall was surprisingly cold for the summer sun and as you sat down, you took a look at Scone. He seemed to still be quite grumpy, but he knew you from earlier in the week, so he was not alarmed. You lifted up and moved your left arm forward to start petting him.

Scone was soft and clearly well-taken care of. His fur was clean and had no knots or dirt insight, despite laying around a garden for half a day. You continued your actions and the both of you started to fall back into slumber. Your hand hovered on the back of the feline and your head slumped alongside your body.

It was peaceful. With birds chirping and the wind lightly blowing. There was a river babbling somewhere in the background and it made for a serene scene. The only reason he had let you pet him was because you had fed him earlier in the week. He didn’t have his collar at that point so this was the first time you had gotten his name. Your eyes closed as you recalled the event from a couple of days prior.

The day after the plane landed you were on the hunt for felines. Armed with some cat food, a retractable mouse-on-a-stick and hope, you made your way around the building England had set aside for housing the rampant countries, and byproduct, their cats. France’s cat, Monsieur, was an absolute attention wh-. He really liked attention, and would rub himself against your leg anytime the two of you crossed paths. It’s not like France, or Francis, was much better.

It’s not like you minded petting him. He was adorable after all. The cat, not Francis. But you had wanted to meet as many other cats as you could and so you had to stop by Francis’ room multiple times to drop off Monsieur.

“Je suis désolé.” He said, taking Monsieur out of your arms. “He keeps getting out. But I guess he knows when there’s a lovely lady around.”

You ignored his attempts at flirting and instead scratched Monsieur’s chin one last time before leaving. He purred at you and while you felt bad about leaving him, you were on a mission! Besides, you had a certain Japanese cat to track down. Monsieur meowed at you as you walked down the hallway and if you didn’t know better you’d say so did Francis.

Either way, nothing was going to stop you from petting Tama, Japan’s cat. He was an adorable little black and white feline with the cutest little bob for a tail. You had actually spotted him earlier and was about to go up to him before Monsieur literally jumped into your arms, demanding attention. Of course you weren’t going to say no so Tama quickly left your sight as you went to return Monsieur.

Wait, isn't Monsieur just sir in French? Oh well there was no time to think about questionable cat names, this building was full of them.

Monsieur wasn’t the only attention whore of a cat. Prussia’s cat, Purrussia, wasn’t much better. He would follow you down hallways and meow with his scratchy meow at you while Austria’s cat, Allegro, whined behind him. He literally tried to jump up at you a few times.

Of course both of them were interrupted when Hero ran straight at you and tackled you like a professional linebacker. You had thought that it was mostly fluff, but no, apparently Hero could pack a punch. He knocked the wind out of you as you fell backwards onto the tiled floor. The cat sat proudly on you and looked around like he was waiting for something or someone. Whoever he was waiting for, however, wouldn’t show up fast enough to see Purrussia return the favor and tackle Hero off of you, much to Allegro’s horror.

The white cat had a German ribbon as well but it looked like it was fraying at the edges. The reason you were bringing this up was because Hero was currently using one of the edges to try to choke Purrussia and Allegro was using the other to try to pull Purrussia away from Hero. Neither was really working and all it was really doing was making Purrussia more and more agitated.

“PURRUSSIA!!!” A shrill voice yelled out from down the hallway.

The cats stopped their roughhousing to see two of the countries barrelling down towards them. Well Prussia was. Austria was slowly walking over, looking more inconvenienced than anything else.

“Purrussia! Purrussia!” Prussia reiterated, pulling his cat up by its arms. “Did jou vin?!”

Everyone but the two Prussians stared in disbelief at his statement. The albino feline furiously nodded his head and if he could have talked you would have imagined that he would have been saying, ‘I’m awesome!’

Hero angrily meowed down below, as if to oppose Purrussia’s non-verbal statement. Allegro just haughtily licked his paw and stuck his nose up as if to pretend that he was disgusted with their fighting as if he hadn’t just been a part of it. Austria picked up his in-denial cat and you picked up Hero who calmed down as soon as you did.

“Sorry about him.” You said, brushing his unruly fur down with your hand. “He gets a little competitive.”

“Ja. It’s fine.” Austria said, petting his own cat. “Purrussia is not much better.”

“HEY!” Prussia yelled. “My awesome Purrussia is doing his best! And besides, at least he actually does something!”

“Jour cat picked a fight vith a vall (wall) Gilbert.” Austria sassed.

“Vell jour cat’s piano playing is trash!”

Austria gave a gasp of horror before inching closer to the Prussian.

“Jou take zat back, RIGHT NOW!”

Prussia just laughed, still letting Purrussia’s back paws dangle as he held him like one would a toddler. He got in close to the Austrian’s face, smiling deviously at him.

“Nein.”

He suddenly, while still holding Purrussia, took off, running away from Austria. He wasn’t far behind though and you could hear the man yelling in German all the way down the far corridor.

“Well Hero.” You said, looking down at the cat who had made himself very comfortable. “That was weird.”

He just snuggled closer to you and you sighed. You scratched him once more before heading down the opposite hallway. The destination was clear, before you could continue your cat quest, you’d have to get this one safely back to its owner.

You suddenly snapped back to reality, still sitting on the wall. The sun was now high in the sky and the spot underneath you was no longer cold. You were especially warm as you now had a Scottish Fold sitting comfortably upon your lap. Quietly cooing at the cat, you looked to see if there was any way to escape your furry prison. The most important rule of cats: once a cat sits on you, you’re not moving until they do.

You sighed, legs uncomfortably stiff. Scone was far more content and his bushy tail occasionally brushed against your leg. It was incredibly cute but it didn’t make your back stop hurting from being hunched over for the last half hour.

Voices came from farther within the garden. There were two people currently engaged in a soft conversation. You caught bits and pieces of it; there was a man with a British accent and a man with what you thought was American until you heard him say ‘aboot.’ You couldn’t help but snicker at your own observation, disturbing Scone in the process.

He scornfully meowed at you and you offered pets in an apology. Around the corner turned Scone’s owner and a man who looked incredibly similar to America. They both turned to look at you when the Scottish Fold you were fondling stretched out to impossible lengths and complained like a cat while he did it. England looked down at your lap to see his cat very happily cushioned on your thighs. The man next to him was also holding a cat who again looked very similar to America’s.

They were clearly different though. This man’s hair was more auburn and his eyes were a shade of impossible purple. There was also more of a wave to it whereas America’s hair was as straight as hair comes. Familiarity lit up in your eyes, not for the man however.

“Maple!” You exclaimed, wanting to go to the cat but also not willing to disturb the one on you. “How have you been?”

The men stared at you, wondering if you were talking to them or the cat. Of course Maple himself answered this as he jumped out of his owner’s arms and darted over to you. He gracefully climbed up the small wall and placed himself down by you. Scone was on your lap and he was nicer than Hero so as to not push him off. You moved one of your arms to pet Maple and kept the other on Scone. They were so cute you felt like you were going to explode.

“Oh.” A quiet voice spoke out. It came from the man behind England. “You’re Alfred’s secretary right?”

You smiled and nodded at the man. “And I assume that means you’re Canada, right?”

He looked a tad taken aback before nodding himself. “Yeah…” He trailed off and England instead picked up the conversation.

“I thought you were supposed to be watching his furrball cat, Hero.” He walked over and leaned against the wall.

“I was. But then he and Boris got into a catfight… and then America and Russia got into a catfight.”

Canada laughed in the background but quickly covered it up. England stared at Scone, looking to see if there was anyway to get him off of you without being scratched himself. He had enough injuries, that should have scarred had he not been a country, from the cat. He shivered a bit, though also began to pet the feline, scratching his under the chin.

“That sounds like those two.”

You hummed in agreement, continuing your affections. Canada also came over to pet his own cat who ironically did smell like maple syrup.

“Can I make you the villain of this story?” You asked England, gesturing to Scone. “I do actually have somewhere I need to be.”

“Oh I suppose I can assume that role.” He mused, carefully picking up his cat. He was not happy to be moved but England just shushed him.

Canada also picked up his cat who was slightly nicer about the whole thing. He fidgeted with Maple’s ear as he held him.

“I’m Matthew.” He said, carefully shifting Maple so he could put one arm out to shake your hand.

You finished the formal greeting. “I’m (Y/n).”

The other blonde butted in from the background. “I’m Arthur, love.”

“It’s very nice to formally meet both of you. Seeing you from across a meeting room doesn’t really count.” You smiled and gave a small pat to each of the feline’s heads. “Well I wasn’t kidding about needing to get somewhere. I really didn’t mean to get stopped as long as I did.”

You playfully glared at the Scottish Fold sitting comfortably in his owner's arms. He promptly ignored you, instead turning around cutely. England apologized but you told him it was fine. You were at least 50% sure that Mr. Jones was probably still fighting with Russia. Those two really were like angry cats. You waved the two men off and went on your way to find out the answer to that question.

Instead of coming across two feuding superpowers, you came across two of the Asian nations’ cats. You had already met them both but this was the first time you were seeing them together. Tama was sitting up high on a shelf while China’s cat, Meowzedong, was angrily meowing at him from down below. Everytime he tried to climb up, Tama would use a paw and swipe a book or other object down at him.

You flinched as a very breakable, very expensive-looking, vase crashed down. It was this movement that alerted the two cats to your presence and Meowzedong wasted no time at all to come over to you and complain. Now you couldn’t exactly speak cat but you got the jist.

Bending down, you carefully picked up the cat. Meowzedong always had a weird clump of fur that looked almost like a ponytail that, no matter how much China cut it, always grew back. He yowled at you and pointed a furry paw in Tama’s direction. The other cat had already loafed on top of the high shelf and you looked at him, back at Meowzedong, back at Tama, and then back at Meowzedong again.

“I don’t know how tall you think I am but I’m not that tall.”

Meowzedong just narrowed his eyes and meowed at you again. You sighed, looking back at Tama. If he had a long enough tail to flick it at you he would’ve. Sensing the futility of his quest, Meowzedong instead spread himself out in your arms and if you didn’t know better you would have said that he was mocking Tama. And if you really didn’t know better you’d say that it was working and that the bobtail was getting more irritated by the second. The personifications might have had to act cordial but their cats had no such qualms.

Finally, Tama de-loafed himself and gracefully hopped down a few other layers before reaching the bottom. He gracefully walked over to you and sat on your foot… Well shoot. What were you supposed to do now?

So here you were, from one cat prison to the next. Standing in the middle of some random, out-of-the-way hallway because the nations’ cats were all attention-hogging, though very adorable, brats.

You didn’t know how much time had actually passed. There was no clock in the hallway, you didn’t wear a watch, and both of your hands were occupied so you couldn’t check your phone. As cute as they were, your legs felt like they were about to collapse in on themselves. You couldn’t even shift how you were standing because Tama had taken it upon himself to lay across both of your shoes. Your arms also felt like they were going to fall off at any second. Meowzedong wasn’t a particularly heavy cat but try holding anything over five pounds for longer than five minutes.

You were desperately hoping that either they would finally get bored and leave or someone would come to save you. Wow you guessed you really did need a “Hero” right about now… Dammit you thought that referencing needing a hero in your head would magically summon America or his equally hotheaded cat.

“Tama. Meowzedong.” You murmured. “Can you please get off?” You hoped to whatever god or gods were out there that they didn’t hear the desperation in your voice. Never show weakness to a cat.

The two cats made eye contact with each other for a moment and seemed to come to an agreement. Meowzedong stretched his body out before jumping onto the ground. Tama did the same but instead greeted Meowzedong when he landed.

It wouldn’t be an exaggeration if you said that you collapsed onto the wooden floor below. You quickly got up however as you didn’t want them to see it as another chance to sit on you. At least not right now. You pulled out your phone to see all of the messages and calls you missed. You had put it on silent while watching Hero and forgot to turn it back to vibrate.

‘Oh my god Mr. Jones called me twenty-three times.’ You thought, frantic. ‘I’m gonna be in so much trouble!’

You raced down the hallway, startling a group of micronations as you went. There was no time to apologize! You had to keep your job! If not for you then for the cats!

Not even thinking to knock you burst open the door where America was staying, side note why wasn’t it locked? And were greeted with the sight of!... Mr. Jones… crying? His cat looked pretty dejected too and was currently hanging himself off the side of the bed like a rug.

“Sir?” His head shot up to look at you.

He quickly snapped his head back away, mushing at his face in an attempt to try to make it seem like he wasn’t crying.

“(Y-Y/n)” He stuttered for a second, before immediately going back to the hero persona. “Where’ve you been!?”

“Are you okay?” You ignore him, instead asking your own question.

You titiled your body to look at what he was looking at… Was that a framed picture of you?!

It didn’t matter because he was very quickly all in your face again. You could see what seemed to be a rapidly healing black eye and a tooth that hadn’t fully regrown in yet as he smiled at you. Just how long was he fighting with Russia for?

You sat him down on his bed, considering if you should even bother getting a medkit for him. Either way you ended up spending the rest of the day with him, watching movies and sitting what you considered a good ways away from each other on the plush couch. He apparently had a nicer room in all of England’s properties from when he used to live there during parts of the year.

Hero filled the gap in-between you of which America was mildly annoyed about. He kept trying to get you to use ‘Alfred’ but you insisted that it was unprofessional. He’d close the gap one day.

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wongyuseokie · 7 months

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Sharing Is Caring | l.s.m, k.m.g, x.m.h

☆ 18+ minors dni | ♕ smut | ♥︎ completed

Summary: You and Mingyu have always fooled around, and no one really caught on, but today, Mingyu was feeling rather bold, and so not only do you now have an audience, but you also have two new joiners. Word Count: 4213 words

Pairing: Female Reader x Kim Mingyu | Fe. You’dader x Lee Seokmin | Female Reader x Xu Minghao

Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Smut, PWP. Content Warnings: None. It’s a PWP, and honestly, I just wanted to rewrite this for Seventeen’s 97 line.

Smut Warnings: Dom! Mingyu, Dom! Minghao, Dom! Seokmin. Overstimulation, breast & nipple play. Oral (m & f receiving), face riding, squirting. Mentions of public sex. Pet names (good boy, baby boy, pretty girl), praise kink. Mingyu has a daddy kink. Pussy slapping. Spanking. Cum play. Biting, it’s mild. Hao uses cuffs. OC is a ragdoll. Pray for her. She isn’t walking for a while. They’re kind of competing? I don't know it’s just smutty. Name-calling (slut, cum slut). I don't know y’all. Choking. Kitten.

Authors Note 1: Also, if you’ve seen this fic before, it’s because it was something I’d published once for a different group, but I wanted to revisit and rework it. Authors Note 2: Thank you so much to @wooahaeproductions and @gyupremacy for beta'ing this very long horny mess. Tagging: @aaniag 💕

Cross Posted to AO3

“Mingyu, don’t. He’ll kill you,” you whispered, watching your best friend being an absolute idiot. You watched him lean over the couch where Minghao was sleeping peacefully. You knew Minghao had insomnia issues, so when he did manage to sleep, you didn’t want anyone to disturb him.

“Make me Y/N,” Mingyu sassed back at you. You know the saying desperate times call for desperate measures? This was one. You walked over to Mingyu and wrapped your arms around his waist, halting his movements. Mingyu melted into your embrace but chuckled.

“Aww, cute Y/N, but that’s not going to do shit,” Mingyu said with a grin as he resumed his position to pounce on Minghao and wake him up. You put your hands under Mingyu’s shirt, sighing at his toned physique.

“Baby, please,” you whispered.

You’d known him since you were kids and saw him through the rough trainee days to the present, where he and his other members were now selling out stadiums worldwide. To anyone else, it might have seemed like you and Mingyu were dating, but you weren’t. You just fucked.

This whole arrangement happened one night because you were rooming with Mingyu while visiting him on tour, and you walked in on him pleasuring himself in the shower. He didn’t even look shocked or anything.

“I have needs; if you are uncomfortable, I apologise. Please close the door, but if not, feel free to join me.” From the adorable young boy that you knew, Mingyu had grown into one of the most handsome men you had known and a man whose duality sometimes got you wet, if you must admit. You pondered over his proposal for a second and joined him. From that night, you both became fuck buddies, and it was probably the best decision ever.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Mingyu’s resolve at waking up his member dissolved when he felt your arms wrap around his waist. “You’re not playing fair,” he mumbled, and you could feel him pout.

“Mingyu, look at me,” you pleaded. He turned around so you were pressed into his firm chest, his arms around your waist now.

“What?” he pouted; he could be an absolute baby when required. You didn’t answer him. You stood on your tiptoes and pulled his head down to reach your lips, capturing them with yours.

“What if I kept you busy instead? Let Minghao sleep,” you suggested. Mingyu sighed, never being able to refuse you for anything, and sex was his weak spot.

“Fine,” he bent down and hoisted you up, legs wrapping around his tiny waist. He walked over to the same sofa where Minghao was sleeping, sat you down with you straddling his lap, and continued kissing you.

“Mingyu!” you hissed.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, he’ll wake up!” you pleaded, but it seemed like Mingyu couldn’t be bothered. After four years of being your fuck buddy, he knew your body like the back of his hand. He moved his lips to your neck and started sucking, making you suppress a moan.

“So let him. I can assure you Minghao will enjoy what he wakes up to,” Mingyu said as he smirked against your neck. The thought of someone else watching made you grow wetter, especially if that someone was Minghao.

You’d grown considerably closer to all Seventeen, especially the 97’s. Minghao was kind, funny and sweet, and Seokmin was an absolute angel, always there no matter what. Mingyu, well, he was your best friend, but these three together were trouble with a capital “T.”

You were interrupted from your thoughts of your extremely attractive friends by Mingyu’s hands reaching the bottom of your hoodie and tugging at it. You couldn’t deny how unfairly handsome they were; it sometimes got annoying. You lifted your arms, and Mingyu removed your hoodie. His eyes widened with lust, seeing that you had chosen to forego a bra.

“Fuck, pretty baby, no bra? Were you hoping to get fucked?” He smirked, his voice low, and you could feel his breath on your nipples.

“Did it work?” you asked, feigning innocence. Mingyu groaned and rubbed his now hard length against your clothed pussy.

“Can you feel that, Y/N? Of course, it did.”

You moved your hands to reach Mingyu’s flannel shirt and unbuttoned it, helping him out of it. His bare torso, toned body, and arms were enough to make you drool, and there was nothing to soothe the pain in your now aching cunt.

“Y/N, stop. I want to taste you, baby; I can tell you're probably a dripping mess,” Mingyu said. You blushed, which only confirmed his assumption.

Mingyu moved you and placed you on the sofa. His hands went straight to your trousers, and he wasted no time ridding them of you before taking your underwear along with it. He was greeted with a sight he could never get tired of; your wet pussy, clit swollen, begging for attention. Just as Mingyu was about to place his tongue on your clit, you heard a gruff voice interrupt your state of bliss.

“Seriously, guys? If you’ll have sex, can you at least ask if I want to join?” Minghao smirked as he boldly asked to join you and Mingyu. You tried to cover yourself with a pillow in embarrassment, but Minghao still crawled over to your side of the sofa.

“Don’t be shy, Y/N. I’ve heard you and Mingyu so many times, and Y/N, you have no idea how many times I imagined your pretty lips on my cock. Fuck, do you both know how many bedsheets I’ve ruined because both of you won’t keep it down?” His voice was low and teasing. You shifted your gaze to Mingyu, who looked fucked out at Minghao’s words, but he recovered quicker than you.

“You want her lips, Hao?” Mingyu asked, not a hint of humour in his voice, and Minghao nodded.

“Oh, interesting. A possible proposition, and I wasn’t invited?” A voice interrupted, and you turned around to be greeted by a shirtless Seokmin, and he was smirking at you. You were practically drooling because of the exchange between Minghao and Mingyu, and now seeing Seokmin shirtless just made you whine. Seokmin laughed at your misery, but not for long; he walked around to the sofa and bent down so his mouth was in line with your pussy.

“Shall I eat you out, princess? Your cunt looks like it’s begging for some love,” he commented. You felt his hot breath fan against your pussy; you squirmed.

“Please, Seokmin, please,” you begged, desperate to feel Seokmin’s lips and tongue on your pussy.

“Okay, princess, don’t hold back. I want to taste you on my tongue.” With that, Seokmin dove straight into your cunt. He didn’t tease; he pushed his thick tongue inside your cunt. He started moving his mouth so that his tongue was thrusting in and out of your pussy. He moved his arm and placed it over your waist, rendering you immobile. You were squirming too much, and Seokmin wanted you at his mercy.

He moved his tongue to your clit, which was now red and swollen, and begging for attention. He wrapped his plump lips around your clit and sucked while his tongue flicked your nub; his flicks were harsh and unrelenting. You felt him insert two fingers into your cunt, his mouth never-ceasing their actions while his fingers thrust in and out of your cunt at a brutal pace. You thought you would come apart right then and there; his mouth felt so good.

You were so close, and Seokmin knew. He stopped flicking at your clit and gently nibbled it, pushing his fingers deeper into your cunt. Thrusting them upwards, he hit your g-spot. You fell apart on his tongue and let out a slight scream.

Seokmin didn’t stop; he kept lapping at your release and fingering you. The oversensitivity of his actions caused something to snap in you, making you shake violently. You grabbed Seokmin’s hair for support, and your vision faded; you were in utter euphoria.

“Hey, Y/N You okay, pretty girl?” Seokmin asked you, his voice breaking you from your lust-bound spell. You nodded. He smiled and leaned in, pecking your lips. You tasted yourself on him.

“Wait, Seokmin, why are you all we—,” you stopped mid-speech because you realised why he was dripping wet.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you whispered. Seokmin smiled and leaned over to where Mingyu and Minghao were.

“Hear that, Mingyu? I made her squirt. You still can’t do much to your baby girl,” Seokmin teased and shot a wink at you. You heard a growl from Mingyu. as he moved over to you, pushing Seokmin away.

While Mingyu grabbed you by the waist and repositioned you so you were now lying with your back down on the sofa, Seokmin moved over to Minghao and curled up by his side.

Mingyu glared at you. “Do you see what you’ve done, princess? Now I’m going to fuck you, and I won’t stop until you squirt again. You are in for a long night,” Mingyu teased as he leaned above and kissed you.

“Safeword Y/N?” Mingyu asked.

“Peaches.”

Seokmin had bruised Mingyu’s ego, and he was unhappy.

Millions of questions ran through his mind. Were you not satisfied? Did you fake your orgasms?

How did Seokmin, for the first time, make you squirt? He was pissed, and he was going to take it out on you. He would make you cum, squirt and beg.

“Y/n, on your hands and knees right now,” Mingyu demanded, and you knew not to disobey, but you were a brat, and you loved to get him worked up so he’d punish you.

“Baby boy, I’m tired. Seokmin just did a number on me,” you cooed and winked at Seokmin, who smiled and winked back at you.

“Y/N, don’t fucking test my patience,” Mingyu warned. His voice was now louder and caught the attention of the two other boys, who were sat on the sofa to make their way to your side. Seokmin and Minghao were now sitting on either side.

You froze in place, not that it took much. Your legs were jelly, thanks to Seokmin. Minghao started peppering kisses to your neck and started sucking, earning a moan from you.

“Y/N,” Minghao spoke, his deep voice making you dizzy.

“Yes?” you answered.

“Listen to the big baby; get on your hands and knees, pretty girl. I’ll make it worthwhile,” he spoke and kissed your lips softly enough, leaving you wanting more.

Once you were on all fours, you realised that you were facing Minghao, and you felt a dip in the sofa, noticing Seokmin once again move back to sit next to Minghao. You felt Seokmin’s hands on your ass; he was turning you around onto your hands and knees. Simply staring at them, you felt yourself getting wetter. A sharp slap to your ass broke you free of your daydream.

“Fuck, Mingyu!” Another slap.

“Fuck Mingyu, baby, I—” One more slap. Mingyu leaned over your body, and you felt his thick, hard length on your back. His large hand went around your neck.

He bit your earlobe gently and said, “You call me anything but Daddy, Y/N, and you won’t fucking walk for a week. Now I will have my way with you. You squirted for Seokmin. You are a filthy little slut. Only whores squirt like you did,” Mingyu whispered in your ear, and his words shot straight to your pussy. If you thought you could, you would cum at that moment.

“Mingyu, please fuck me,” You heard him telling you to call him Daddy, but you wanted to be a brat; you wanted him to fuck you hard. There was another slap to your ass.

“You want to play it like that, Y/N? Okay, princess, you do that. Just know I’m going to use your pussy to store my cum, and you better keep it in there. When I’m done, Minghao can lick it out of your cunt.”

“Gladly, Mingyu. I want that sweet little pussy on my mouth,” Minghao said in agreement.

Mingyu pushed his cock into your cunt without warning, resulting in a loud moan from you. You’d been sleeping with him for four years, yet his length would always stretch you out, and you welcomed that burn. He started pounding into your cunt, showing no mercy. He wrapped his arm around your waist and snaked his fingers to your clit. starting to rub.

“Fuck Daddy,” you moaned.

“So fucking good,” you praised. You were on the precipice of your second orgasm of the night. Mingyu knew and just fucked you harder as he worked his fingers quickly against your clit. You felt something snap another word.., and you came. Mingyu let out a loud groan at your cunt clenching around his cock. He didn’t stop; he just kept pounding into your wet and now sensitive cunt.

“Daddy, please, too much,” you whined, but you didn’t actually mind.

“What did I tell you, Y/N?” Mingyu asked.

“That I’m your little cum slut, Daddy,” you replied, moaning. Your words did something to Mingyu because he let out a growl and started rutting his hips into your cunt even harder, at a pace you didn’t think was possible. He wrapped his hands around your neck, choking you.

“Daddy is pretty close, baby,” Mingyu told you in a low voice; you could tell he was. His breathing was getting more uneven. He suddenly pulled out of your cunt, making you whine at the loss of the contact, only to push back in and continue fucking you. You felt your legs shake, your limbs gave way, and your vision faded for the second time tonight. You were panting and crying tears of pleasure.

Mingyu was satisfied, he had made you cum twice, and now you had just squirted all over him. He thrust into you a few more times until he reached release and filled your pussy with his cum.

“Princess, you okay?” Mingyu asked as he softly turned you over and kissed your forehead.

“Yes, I am.” You were exhausted, and yet you wanted more.

“Good, pretty baby. Now walk over to Minghao and sit on his face.” You did as you were told, and the minute you placed your cum filled cunt on Minghao’s lips, you felt his arms wrap around your waist. “Don’t you dare let my cum drip out of your pussy. Let him lick you clean.”

“Ready for me, baby?”

You did not understand how one man’s tongue could bring you so much pleasure. You fisted your hands into Minghao’s hair, and he licked and sucked Mingyu’s cum out of your pussy. Long strokes of his tongue collected the cum that threatened to spill out of your pussy as he sucked at your cunt, cleaning it of Mingyu’s cum.

Minghao mumbled something. The vibration shot straight to your now extremely sensitive pussy, and caused you to barrel into your fourth orgasm of the night. Your grip on his hair tightened, and you screamed because Minghao would not stop.

His arm around your waist meant that he had you at his mercy. He kept flicking your clit, and sucking at it. Alternating between sucking and licking, you were so close. You felt two pairs of lips, one on your neck and one on your breasts.

You opened your eyes—previously screwed shut in pleasure—to find Seokmin’s plump lips on your nipple, sucking and gently using his teeth to tug at your swollen nipples.

While Mingyu was the one at your neck, he was not kind about it. He was sucking and biting your neck, leaving no part of it untouched. You’d be purple and hiding your neck in a turtleneck for a while, but you didn’t care right now.

The combined pleasure of all three men on your body had you seeing stars, and you came again, even harder and shook. Minghao licked a couple more times, making you shiver with overstimulation, and he loosened his grip around your waist.

Seokmin and Mingyu helped to lay you down on the sofa. You sighed in relief as you finally let your body relax on the couch.

You noticed Minghao getting up off the sofa and walking away.

“Hao,” you whined. You didn’t get to fuck him, and you were so desperate to feel his cock inside you. Mingyu chuckled as they slid two fingers into your wet pussy.

“Sssh, Y/N. If I know Minghao, he’s just coming back with something to keep you in place,” he smirked as he fingered your pussy. While Mingyu fingered you, Seokmin leaned down to bring his mouth down to your cunt, and licked your now extremely oversensitive clit.

He sucked and grazed his teeth on your cunt, pushing you straight into your sixth fifth? orgasm of the night. You noticed Mingyu lifting his fingers soaked in your cum to Seokmin’s mouth, who sucked his fingers clean.

“Fuck, Y/N; you taste so good.” You thought you would not live through what these boys were doing to you. “God, I could honestly eat you out forever.”

Minghao came back with two scarves and a pair of handcuffs. You scoffed.

“Hao? Seriously, Gucci scarves and Chanel-encrusted handcuffs?” He smirked at your comment.

“You deserve the best, and might as well use something designer when I fuck you so hard that you can’t walk straight when I’m done.” That shut you up quickly.

“Boys, hold the pretty slut down.” You shivered at his words; besides Mingyu, all the boys were shocking you tonight. They were grown men, but the filth coming out of their mouths was new—not that you minded in the slightest bit.

Mingyu and Seokmin grabbed your legs and spread them as wide as possible. You’re now dripping, with your aching cunt on full display. Both men let out a groan at the sight.

“Hands Y/N”, Minghao spoke as he walked around to the sofa, and he was now standing in front of you as well. You held out both hands to him, and he tied them together with a scarf. Kissing your wrists gently, he then snapped the handcuffs over the scarf.

“Hao, isn’t that a bit much?”

Minghao smirked, his eyes dark with lust. “Baby, when I’m done with you, you’ll be glad these scarves provided relief.” With that, he grabbed you by your waist and flipped you over and onto your knees. You were struggling to balance on your knees now that your hands were bound.

You felt your ankles being tied together, too. “Minghao, how the fuck will I move?” You protested.

“Exactly, baby girl. You won’t. I will fuck you and use your little cunt until I cum understood?” You were stunned into silence. Minghao took your silence as disobedience, and you were punished immediately with a sharp slap to your ass.

“Yes, I understand, sir.” Minghao moaned at the mention of sir.

He positioned himself behind you and grabbed your bound wrists so your back was pressed into his chest. You were on your knees, ankles bound. Minghao slid his hard, thick and long length into your cunt.

“Ah, Ha—Sir, too much,” you choked out.

Minghao kept pushing into your cunt, until he fully bottomed you out.

“Sssh baby, deep breaths, relax. I’ll make you feel good. Okay?”

You nodded, letting out a hum of acceptance. “Please move,” you begged. Minghao placed a kiss on your back in between your shoulder blades.

Minghao started pushing into your cunt; he began his thrusts slowly and growled at how tight you were. The pain from the stretch subsided and was now pleasurable; the position he had you in had his cock filling you up and hitting your g-spot each time.

Minghao, on the other hand, was in absolute bliss. His eyes were screwed shut in pleasure. You were so fucking tight, and you were like a vice grip around his cock.

Minghao bit down on your exposed shoulder and started sucking it. He kept going while he thrust his hard cock inside your pussy. You were in absolute pleasure until you felt something soft at your pussy. You looked down to see Mingyu snaking his tongue along your clit.

“Mingyu, fuck, so fucking good,” you moaned, had it not been for Minghao’s vice grip across your waist, you would have fallen over. You were drowning in pleasure as Mingyu kept licking your pussy.

“Fuck,” A loud groan came from Minghao as he thrust into you harder and faster.

You felt a hand caress your cheek softly, and you looked to your right to find Seokmin staring at you sweetly. His cock was red, hard and swollen and begging for attention.

“Seokmin, please fuck my mouth,” you begged. You wanted them all at once and in one go.

Seokmin walked closer to you and put his hands into your hair, making a makeshift ponytail, as he guided his thick length into your mouth. He let out a loud moan as he felt your warm mouth enclose his cock.

You tapped Seokmin’s thigh to let him know you were ready for him, and he slowly started thrusting into your mouth. Fucking your throat, you so badly wanted to cup his balls and make him beg and cum for you, but your hands were bound. That being said, the rate at which Seokmin was fucking your throat, you know he wasn’t far off. Mingyu’s tongue was still playing with your clit.

Minghao kept pounding into you and biting your exposed back and shoulder. You were close to cumming, and so was Minghao. You needed to cum. Mingyu knew your body, and he could see it; he replaced his tongue with his fingers and rubbed at your clit. You shook and froze for a moment as you came, making Minghao moan and bite down harder on your shoulder as you tightened even further around his dick.

You knew Seokmin was close, his thrusts were getting sloppy, and he stilled his hips with one final thrust into your mouth. He gently pulled out of your mouth and kissed your lips. His hot cum spilling down your throat.

“Good girl, Y/N,” Mingyu sat before you and kissed you, his tongue snaking into your mouth, tasting Minghao’s cum and yours.

“Seriously, yY/N. You’ve been a very good girl.” Mingyu snaked his fingers down to your clit again and fingered your clit harder, and you shook and came again. You had lost count of how many times you came tonight. Minghao pushed into you one last time and stilled his moving hips, his cum painting your walls. He kissed all the spots he bit and undid the ties around your ankle.

Just when you thought you’d get relief of some sort—as you felt Minghao undoing the scarves around your ankles lightly, massaging the area. You were immediately carried and placed on to Mingyu, sitting, his dick hard and waiting for you.

Minghao carried you onto Mingyu and put you down onto Mingyu’s cock. You let out a strangled cry, you were so sensitive and yet you wanted so much more. Mingyu wasted no time and started thrusting his hips upwards. He set a brutal pace, and you were so fucking close to cumming again.

“Mingyu, please. Daddy, I need to cum,” you begged, and Mingyu’s eyes softened.

“You will, with me,” and with that, he pounded into your cunt hard as he could. You still needed to finish, and Mingyu immediately put his fingers on your clit and rubbed the swollen nub, making you squirt all over him. You felt him getting close just from how shallow his breaths were. He still his hips and held you close, and came inside you.

You were a sobbing and moaning mess. You felt so good, so worn out, yet you wanted more. You felt Mingyu lift you off his lap and place you on the sofa. He undid your bound wrists, kissing them. He pulled you into his side and started kissing you; his kisses were soft and gentle. Before you could melt into his tenderness, you felt two tongues on your pussy. You tried to squirm away, but Mingyu gripped you harder. He knew he wrecked you.

You looked down to see Minghao and Seokmin at your cunt, lapping up your release and Mingyu’s release. You noticed how both tongues would meet, and the sight had you so close to cumming.

It didn’t take long for Mingyu to kiss you, all while Seokmin’s lips were sucking on your clit, and Minghaos’s long tongue collected the release in your pussy as you fell apart on their tongues.

The two boys lapped up your release, kissed your forehead, and sat next to you on the couch when they cleaned you up. You were practically curled up in Mingyu’s lap.

“You’re right, Gyu; maybe a fuck buddy isn’t such a bad idea,” Seokmin said with a chuckle.

“This doesn’t just have to be a one-time thing, right?” You mumbled, loud enough for the others to hear you.

“No, kitten, it doesn’t,” Mingyu agreed, kissing your forehead.

#seventeen #mingyu #seokmin #minghao #svthub #kvanity #seventeen smut

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