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pedrito-friskito · 2 years

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the warrior and the witch - part three

summary: pero comes home, and you both get more than you bargained for.

warnings: magic, canon-typical violence, maybe a bit of not-canon-typical violence, blood, descriptions of assault (a forced kiss only), NO SMUT HERE (who is she we don’t know), but some angst and some yearning and even a bit of fluff

a/n: oh my GOD. full disclosure: this is not exactly the way I envisioned the ending when I came up with this idea, but I kind of love it. maybe a little OOC for Pero (based on the movie) but pretty in-line with the world I’ve created for him and his witch here. and honestly…I don’t think I’m done with these two. gotta focus on the rest of my autumn adventures, but there will definitely be more of the warrior and the witch at some point!

PART ONE | PART TWO 🍂kay’s autumn adventures🍂

Your mouth tastes of copper. Wet and thick, coating your teeth and tongue. Not the best sign.

It’s blood, obviously, and your head feels heavy, a weight on your shoulders like you’ve never felt before. Slowly, you blink your eyes open, sucking down a breath that rattles your lungs. Your hands are bound in front of you, your legs parted around the saddle of a horse you do not recognize.

And pressed behind you, an unfamiliar body.

Unfamiliar until it speaks.

“Ah, welcome back, witch.” Farrell sneers the words in your ear, his chest pressed to your back, a heavy arm wrapped around your waist while the other holds the horse’s reins. The tone in his voice sends a chill down your spine, revulsion pooling in your gut as his hot breath blows on your ear. “I wondered how long it would take you to wake.”

You slip slightly in the saddle, your torso pitching sideways, and you close your eyes as you wait to fall, but Farrell doesn’t allow it. His grip on you goes tighter, pulling you nearer to his sweaty form.

“Where d’you think you’re going, huh?”

You turn your head as much as the pain will allow, spiking along your cheeks and jaw as you try to even out your breathing. Your chest wheezes with the effort, and the memories come sweeping back into your mind.

The cottage, ransacked. The holding circle etched into your bedroom floor. Farrell’s drunk grin and the axe on his shoulder. He’d hit you over and over again, until your legs gave out and you sank to the floor. Then he’d bound your hands, the rope chafing harshly against your skin, making you feel weaker in an instant. How was that possible? What had he done?

Gods above, what had he found out?

With you bound, he’d carried you from the cottage, dumped you in the garden, and headed back inside. You could only watch as the walls started to shake, as the sound of an axe hitting home over and over again reached your ears. You could only lie there, blood on your lips and rage in your gut as the flames started to rise, pouring through the broken windows, licking over the thatched roof, burning away any trace of your life. Of Pero’s life.

Pero’s voice echoed in your head. Our life.

Gone. Turned to ash.

Farrell made you watch, lain in the dirt, his foot on your back to keep you pressed to the earth. You tried to summon your magic, tried to bring some kind of help to the surface, but it escaped you. There was something in the rope binding you, something else that had been added to that holding circle, something that was keeping your magic far beyond your reach.

The rage turned to terror. Lena and Tomas would wonder where you’d gone to, and as Farrell loaded you onto the saddle, turned the mare towards the forest behind the cottage as the smoke billowed high, as the roof started to collapse under the weight of the heat and the frailty of the flames, you knew there was little chance they would find you. That anyone would.

Now, you blink your eyes hard, trying to wash away the strange feeling of sleep and the heaviness of your pain. You’re still in the forest, no path before you or behind you, the trees on either side a broad expanse that blurs together when you watch for too long. Behind you, Farrell pants in your ear, the feeling of him pressed against you making your whole body want to recoil, but the pain keeping you in place. It hurts to move, aches to even attempt to speak.

But then Farrell keeps talking, and your heart sinks.

“There are lots of others like you out in the world, you know? I’m sure you do, clever little bitch that you are. I’m sure you’ve got friends in all corners of the world, awful women like you that would help you at the drop of a hat. What do they call it? A coven?”

My coven is long gone, you want to say, but you stay silent. My sisters are all long dead, killed by the likes of you. I fled to keep myself safe, found that cottage a safe haven for the likes of me. And then I found him. But he’s gone now. I’m gone now.

Does Pero still live? Lena’s words echo in your mind: he will come back to you. You wish you believed it. You wish you knew he still lived. Your spell of protection had been near perfect, the strongest you’d ever cast on the ring you bore to him before he left. It would keep him safe, but the doubt still lingered.

Farrell just keeps talking.

“You have been a plague on our village. With your sinful face and your ungodly temptation. You never should have stayed, witch. You should have left long ago. And I cannot bear it any longer. I cannot live with the temptation that you offer. Not when I cannot have you for myself.”

Bile rises in the back of your throat. Oh. So that’s the source, the reason for his blind hatred. It doesn’t answer for the rest of the people in the village who have treated you similarly, but you don’t doubt that Farrell has had his hand in it, preaching your awfulness to anyone who would listen, rallying anyone he could to join the cause.

Not that it matters anymore.

You continue deeper into the forest, and after another hour or so, Farrell halts the horse and wrenches you down from the saddle. “You wait here,” he tells you, and a strange sort of shock ripples down your legs. Once again, you cannot move.

You look down at your binds. Squinting down at the ropes, you see more runes, like the holding circle, some familiar and others not. You try your damndest to move your feet, throwing your body in the opposite direction you’ve travelled, but you don’t move an inch.

The realization settles over you. Obedience. You’d heard rumours, long ago. Witches who had defected against their covens, revolted against their own kind. They worked to find ways to enslave, to keep magic under someone’s control, but not the witch themselves. It seems they have been successful. How Farrell managed to find the information, you’re still not sure, but none of it really matters, in the grand scheme.

All that matters is that you get away, that you try to make your way back, that you find Pero.

You realize: Pero may come back, but what will he find? Your home, burned to the ground; you, nothing but a mark in the earth and trail of blood deep into the woods. You turn your head and spit into the earth, the saliva and blood in your mouth too much.

Wait.

Blood.

Your cloak is still draped around you, and Farrell had clearly not been clever enough to check your pockets. One of Pero’s knives lays at the bottom of one, and, carefully as you can, trying to make it look as though you’re not moving at all, you reach for it.

It’s sharp as anything, a result of Tomas’s handiwork, and all it takes is a slight press of your thumb against the blade to slice your skin. You wince, the pain harsh, worse to bear without your magic to ebb it.

Farrell reappears, and you school your face into nothingness, holding your hands in front of you, your injured thumb tucked inside your knuckles. You can feel the blood pooling in your palm, and you press your lips together, trying to hide the pain as best as you can.

He fastens a length of rope to your wrists, just below the binds. “You’ll walk the rest of the way,” he commands, that strange feeling moving through you once more. “If you fall, I will drag you.”

You stare at his large back as he mounts the mare, flicking the reins and ushering the horse forward, deeper into the night. The howl of a wolf makes your ears prick, and you wait until he’s focused on the path ahead, not glancing back at you. Slowly, you veer your steps sideways, your knees aching with every step, until you’re closer to the tree line. Once a trunk is within reach, you splay your hand wide, leaving a bloody handprint on the trunk. A path, a trail of breadcrumbs, something to lead the way to wherever it is your captor is taking you.

Now, all you can do is hope that someone finds it.

The path down the mountain had been treacherous. He’d buried William as best he could, working through the only slightly ebbed pain in his body, muttering a few words as a fond farewell to his friend. His own horse had been taken by the mercenaries that had attacked, but he found William’s further down the mountain, the smaller beast spooked and starving. He’d calmed the horse as best he could, finding a nearby stream for them to drink from, for Pero to clean the blood from his body, to try and figure his path back home.

He still had his swords, but little else. There was a village, once he’d passed through on the way to meet William, and when he stops there for supplies, he realizes his money pouch is gone. Desperate, he sells one of his swords to the smithy in town, uses the money to buy a new cloak and some food, fix the bridle on the horse.

And that’s when he finds it.

The shop is filled with people, and in the corner, he hears two men talking lowly. It’s hard to make out their voices, but he catches a few words.

Witch. Problem. Dark magic. Solution. Obedience.

“You have a witch problem?” Pero asks, his voice loud, catching the men’s attention. Both their heads lift, and one of them has a sickening smile on his face.

“Not anymore, lad,” he answers, crossing his arms over his chest. “Took care of the bitch just last week. The king’s been sending folks all over with solutions for the problem. Ways to bind them, make them obedient, keep them at bay. It’s a miracle, really.”

Pero’s vision goes red. “You don’t say.”

The man just nods, smug as anything. “Yep! Poor bloke was in here just last week from a village a few days’ ride from here. Said he had a problem to take care of and his village hadn’t gotten anything yet, so I let him have what we had left. I hope it worked.”

“What was the man’s name?” Pero asks, trying desperately to keep his voice as calm as possible. His hand flexes for his sword, but he resists.

The man narrows his eyes at him. “Why d’you ask?”

That’s it.

“Tell me his name!” Pero shouts, and his sword makes a satisfying noise as he unsheathes it, tossing it in the air and catching it by the handle, holding the point directly at the man’s throat. “Now.”

“Farrell!” the man cries, his face going bright red, eyes bulging out of his face. Pero presses harder. “He said his name was Farrell! Big bloke, liked his ale, said he needed help! I was just tryna be a good neighbour!”

Content with the answer, Pero storms from the shop, moving faster than his aching body wants, but he doesn’t care. He has to get back. Now. He swings himself into the saddle, the horse nickering at him as he flicks the reins, a loud hyah! echoing through the village as the horse surges forward.

He’s made it halfway back to your village when he spies the black ball of fur, and it’s the only thing that stops him, distracting him from the path ahead.

“Soot?” he calls, his voice soft as anything. He pulls tight on the horse’s reins, urging the animal to a halt, and slides from the saddle. The cat looks more than worse for wear, his little paws raw, a chunk missing from his ear, blood on his maw. “Gods, what happened to you?” he asks, breathing a sigh when the cat lets him scoops his little body up. Carefully, he gets back into the saddle, and the cat makes a home in Pero’s shirt, burrowing against his warmth. This is not a good sign. If Soot is all the way out here, then…

Where are you? What happened to you?

He travels through the night, half-expecting the horse to give him a hard time, but the beast seems to sense the urgency, kicking up dust as he powers on, making better time than Pero had on his journey to William. The stretch that should take three days is done in a day and a half, Pero barely stopping, save to feed himself and the horse, trying to tend to Soot as best he can, catching a fish in a nearby pond for the cat to eat.

It’s nearly nightfall by the time he makes his way into your village. The square is full of people, despite the late hour, and Lena spots him before he sees her, shouting his name across the fountain.

“Pero!”

He pushes his way through the crowds, the horse’s head bouncing as he goes, nudging people’s shoulders until they move out of the way. “Lena.”

“Gods, where have you been?” she asks, and he slides from the saddle, careful not to jostle the cat in his shirt. As soon as he’s close enough, the woman throws her arms around him, squeezing him tight, making Soot yelp against his chest. “Oh.”

“He met me halfway,” Pero explains, and the cat perks up when he spots Lena, a spark of energy making him climb up onto Pero’s shoulders. “I heard something, in another village. They’re hunting witches, and Farrell—”

“She’s gone,” Lena bursts out, and Pero’s heart sinks into his toes. “We’ve been looking for her for days now. The cottage was burned down, but there was no trace of a body. She has to be alive somewhere, but I…” Your friend trails off, shaking her head. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Where is Farrell?” Pero asks, his voice gravelly. Finding Soot was one thing, but hearing it firsthand is another entirely. “Lena, where is he?!”

“I don’t know!” she shouts, tears falling down her cheeks. “We’ve been trying to find her, I just—”

Tomas appears out of nowhere, pushing through the crowd, and grabs Pero’s shoulder. “Come inside the shop,” he says, eyes darting around the square. “Now.”

Pulling the horse behind him, Pero obeys. Soot leaps off his shoulder and into the horse’s saddle, and Lena takes the beast to the stable behind the smithy while Tomas leads Pero inside. The shop is dark, the hearth the only source of light that Pero can see.

On the table lies a brilliant sword, perfectly shined, and he can tell just by looking at it, incredibly sharp. He’d traded his straight blade back in the other village, favouring his curved sword, but this would make a fine replacement.

“Take it,” Tomas says, stepping around the table, reaching into a cabinet and procuring a bow and a sheath of arrows. “It’s yours.”

“What?” Pero asks, incredulous. “What are you…?”

Tomas slings the sheath around his shoulder, the bow following suit. “We’re going to find her.”

Pero nearly stumbles back. He’s stricken, for a moment, the man before him a mirror image of the good friend he’d lost, the friend who had given him his life, therefore giving him you. And now, Tomas, a new friend, a wary friend by any stretch, helping him get it all back.

“You have children, Tomas,” Pero tries to reason, reaching for the sword, removing his empty sheath to replace it with the new one. “I cannot ask you to—”

“What kind of father would I be if I didn’t set the right example?” the man replies, and Pero can only grin back.

They meet Lena around the back of the shop, Pero’s horse still saddled and Tomas’s freshly so. Soot leaps onto his shoulder again as Pero mounts, and he glances back to see Lena grabbing Tomas’s face, pulling him into a deep kiss before she presses his forehead to hers. “Save her,” she says, “and come home.”

Tomas simply nods before getting into his own saddle, nodding at Pero. “Let’s go.”

His horse keeps his speed even after the brief stop, and Tomas’s keeps pace. It’s a quick ride to where the cottage once lay, and Pero nearly topples from the saddle when he sees the burned remains. He tosses his reins to Tomas, sprinting for the smouldering pile. It’s all burned wood and shattered glass and books turned to ash. He can’t stop himself from picking through it, trying to find anything that might still be intact, remembering Lena’s words that they hadn’t found a body, but praying to the Gods all the same that he doesn’t find you among the rubble.

He doesn’t, but he does find something else. A long silver chain, a ring similar to the one hanging around his own neck strung on it. The memory surfaces; you’d worn it whenever you left the cottage, carrying it with you into the village for protection. He’d never asked about it, never put it together when you gave him his own, just accepted it for what it was. Accepted you for what you were.

What you are.

Soot leaps from his shoulder when he rounds the back of where the cottage once stood, his head cocked to the side, tail sticking straight up. “What is it?” Pero calls, as if the creature will answer. The cat walks forward, pawing through the grass until he reaches the edge of the forest, then he pauses, looks over his shoulder, and meows loudly at Pero. Not English, but he takes the meaning all the same.

In there.

They leave the horses in the pasture beside the cottage. The gate is still intact, and Pero is surprised to see your mare still walking the green. She’s wary of the other horses, sniffing at Pero’s new horse carefully, but neighs lowly at Pero, leaning into his palm when he pets her nose.

“I know, girl,” he murmurs, “I’m going to find her.”

The moon is the only source of light as they step into the forest. Tomas wonders if they should light a torch, but Pero refuses. “It might be a trap,” he says, and his new friend nods. “We need to be careful.”

Soot leads the way, the tiny black silhouette of him disappearing every once in a while when the moon cannot break through the trees. It feels like hours, every bone in Pero’s body aching in protest, but he does not care. He has to find you, he doesn’t care what it costs. Any pain is bearable, losing you is not.

Then he sees it.

The bark of a tree, scraped away to show the solid wood beneath, and there, dried and dark, but there all the same, is a handprint. Soot paws at the tree, and Pero sniffs at the mark. “Blood,” he tells Tomas, his brow pulling down. “It’s blood.”

Soot disappears deeper into the forest, and they find him again at another tree, another handprint pressed into the bark. Then another, and another, all bearing the same park, the same hand.

“A trail,” Tomas murmurs. “She left a trail.”

It has to be you. At first, Pero is doubtful, only half-convinced by the black cat leading him deep into the forest, but as they continue down the unseen path, that thing that has taken up residence in his chest since the witch first spoke of you, doubled when he first laid eyes on you, blinks awake, stretching across his ribs, pushing him forward. Find her, find her, find her, it chants, and Pero’s hands curl into fists as he steps.

The moon hangs high overhead, the light pouring through the trees, spotting their path witch patches of white, and Pero just keeps going. following the feeling in his chest. Tomas trails slightly behind, and Soot leads the way still, his tail pointed straight up, ears twitching as he goes.

Finally — finally — they come upon something other than trees. But it does not help Pero’s unease, not by a long shot.

Beyond the last of the trees lies a clearing. Moonlight pours over the entire space, the grass stained grey with the power of it. A tent stands in one corner of the clearing, a small fire built before it. An unfamiliar horse is tied to a tree near the tent, the beast folded up on the grass, asleep. On the other side of the clearing, a large metal stake driven into the earth, and hanging off the stake…

You. Your hands bound before you, your face bruised and your lips covered in blood, your dress hanging off of you in tatters, revealing more broken skin beneath. Just as it had in the other village, Pero’s vision goes red, and he moves to surge forward, but Tomas stops him, grabbing his shoulder.

“Not yet,” he whispers harshly, pulling Pero back. “We don’t know what sort of weapons he’s got with him.”

Pero nods, but he cannot tear his eyes from you. His chest aches, begging him to move forward, that thing encircling his heart trying it’s damndest to push him forward. He wants to run to you, to cut your binds away and carry you away from this place, far from it all, until he finds a place where he knows you’re safe, knows no harm will befall you.

He never should have left.

The guilt eats at him instantly, roiling around in his stomach and forming a heavy weight, but he tries to cast the feeling aside. Now is not the time.

They lay in wait for a while, waiting to see if Farrell will step out of the tent. He can see the flicker of light from within, casting shadows on the canvas walls. Pero’s hands itch to reach for his swords, but Tomas is right. They do not know what sort of threat Farrell stands to be, not yet. And from the looks of you, whatever the man in the other village supplied Farrell with has worked. You look weak, and not just from your injuries, it’s deeper than that. The glow that had always surrounded you is gone. Your magic, Pero realizes. Whatever Farrell’s done, it’s cut you off from it, left you powerless.

It only makes his rage more palpable.

Soot, unfortunately, does not have the same amount of patience that humans do, and after giving Pero what he can only describe as a hard look, the cat leaps through the tree line, sauntering across the grass towards the stake you’re tied to.

Pero curses under his breath as the cat closes the distance between you and him. As soon as he reaches you, Pero sees you perk up, your eyes widening as the cat climbs up the stake, pawing and gnawing at the ropes that keep you bound. “No,” he sees your lips form, trying to bat the cat away with your tied hands. “Soot, no!”

There’s a rustling from the tent, and Farrell finally steps out of his shelter. As broad and stupid-looking as Pero remembers, the man lumbers across the clearing, an angry look on his face when he spots the cat on the stake. You cry out when he swings at the animal, but Soot is faster, ducking the large fist heading for him and sinking his teeth into Farrell’s arm.

“Stupid cat!” Farrell yells, and grabs Soot with his other hand, launching the cat into the forest on the other side of the clearing. You yelp again, and Farrell grabs you by the collar, dragging you to your feet. “What did you do?” he spits, getting in your face, his nose inches from yours. “I told you, I’m taking my time with you, bitch. You don’t want me to build that pyre tonight, do you? Do you?”

Pero turns to Tomas, his chest heaving, and puts a hand on the man’s arm. “Tomas, go home.”

“What?” he asks, incredulous. “I cannot just lea—”

“You need to go back to the village,” Pero says, his voice shockingly even, “and you need to tell them what you saw. Only one man will walk away from this fight, and if it’s him, you need to tell the village what he’s done, why we fought.”

Tomas opens his mouth to protest further, but Pero lifts his hand.

“I have lost one good friend already,” Pero continues. “I do not wish to lose another.”

Tomas’s jaw goes hard, muscle ticking in his cheek, but then he puts a hand on Pero’s shoulder. “I will tell them what I saw.”

“Thank you.”

Pero watches until the shadow of Tomas disappears into the blur of the forest.

“Please,” Pero hears you sob, your voice so broken he has to bite back his anger. “Just let me go. I’ll leave the village, like you asked. I’ll do anything, Farrell, please, just—”

“Anything, huh?” the man repeats, and his hand moves from the collar of your dress to your chin, gripping your face tightly, lifting you higher and higher until your feet are no longer on the ground, your bound hands gripping the stake as he lifts you.

Farrell pulls your face to his, and Pero can bear it no longer. He bursts through the tree line, drawing both swords at once, moonlight glinting off his blades. He roars the other man’s name. “Let. Her. Go.”

Farrell stumbles back in surprise, your blood on his lips, and your face cracks in shock, fresh tears pouring down your cheeks. “Pero, go!” you shout, but he’s too focused on your captor.

“Now, why on earth would I wanna do that?” Farrell asks, giving Pero an unkind grin as he wipes your blood from his mouth. “I’ve got your little bitch right where I want her.”

“Let her go,” Pero repeats, slower, “or I cut you down where you stand.”

The man starts to laugh. “You think you’re tough, don’t you? Big scary warrior, big shiny swords. I still have the scars, from the first night we met. You were truly terrifying back then, I’ll admit. Barely scraped away with my life, after what you did. But I lived.” He takes a little bow, and Pero growls. “Pity neither of you will walk away from this. It’s a shame, really.”

“You’re a monster,” Pero spits, taking a step forward, tightening his grip on his swords.

“Me?” Farrell shakes his head. “Oh no, the only monster here is this—” he grabs you by the collar again, shakes you against the metal stake, “—unholy creature. She’s tricked you too, hasn’t she? Lured you into her bed and kept you captive. If you’d stayed away, I bet you would have lived a long life, warrior. Or maybe you’d die in the street like any other poor swordsman.”

It’s a taunt, the man poking at any part of Pero he can, trying to find a way beneath his skin. It’s not going to work. He’s here for one thing, and one thing only.

You.

“Let her go,” Pero says a third time, taking another step, “and maybe I’ll let you live.”

He laughs again. “You keep saying that, but you see, I have another trick up my sleeve, warrior.” He turns to you, pulls a knife from his belt. Pero lurches forward, but Farrell doesn’t hurt you. He cuts the rope binding you to the stake and shoves the knife between your still-bound hands. Holding you by the collar, he drags you towards Pero, who readies his swords, waiting for an opening, searching for a moment where he can cut the man down without harming you, but it never comes.

Farrell hauls you close to him, putting his mouth by your ear. His voice is barely above a whisper, but Pero hears it all the same, sees the ripple that travels through your body at the command, the way your face pinches in pain and tears roll down your cheeks, creating tracks in the blood on your face.

“Kill him.”

It’s a cruel trick. A cruel joke. Pero’s swords clatter to the ground as Farrell shoves you towards him. You’re gripping the knife with both hands, the blade pointed up, but your fingers are trying to turn it downward. As Pero catches you, the tip of the blade drags against his collar, just glancing off his skin.

“Do it!” Farrell shouts, and you let out a sob as your body shakes.

“It’s okay,” Pero murmurs, his anger abated now that he can touch you, can feel your body in his grasp. “I am here, mi amor. You’re safe now. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you sob, squeezing your eyes shut as your hands try to point the blade at his chest. You wrench your hands down, yanking the blade towards your own ribs, and Pero grabs your wrists. “I have to do what he says,” you cry, your shoulders shaking with the force of the command, the strength of your will. “It’s not fair.”

“I know, amor,” Pero says, his voice soft, pulling your head into his, pressing your temple to his cheek. “I know. It’s okay. I’m here. I will not leave you, never again. It’s okay.”

He says the words over and over, turning his head to kiss your cheeks, your lips, your nose, your forehead. Anywhere he can reach, while you wrestle with your own body, trying to defy the order. But you’re weak without your magic, weaker still from the injuries Farrell has given you. It’s not enough.

“It’s okay,” Pero tells you, brushing the hair back from your face as he leans in to kiss your lips. “I love you.”

Your bottom lip quivers as you stare at him, those eyes he’s come to love so much so big, filled with tears.

“Kill him!” Farrell roars, and Pero kisses you again.

“It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, and your hands surge forward, the blade sinking in deep in his gut. “I love you.”

All Pero can hear is your sobs, the gut-wrenching sound making his chest ache as the pain floods him. But he found you. You’re alive. This isn’t how he wanted things to end. But he found you.

You wrench the blade out of him, dropping the handle as Pero sinks to the grass, blood pouring from his wound. Dimly, he hears Farrell’s laughter, the unkind noise growing quieter and quieter as you lean over him.

“I’m sorry,” you say, repeating the words over and over. “I’m so sorry. I love you. I love you. I’m sorry.”

You’re too caught up in your tears and apologies to notice him grab the hilt of the knife.

You can barely see through your tears, the wetness on your face making everything feel blurry. Everything hurts, and you can’t hold back the sobs as you curl yourself over Pero’s body, feeling the blood pouring out of him soaking into what remains of your clothes, dampening the grass below. Your entire being shakes with sadness, pushing your face against his collar, sobbing against his skin.

Behind you, Farrell just keeps laughing. Anger rattles through you, the beast in your chest screaming in pain. He did this. He did this he did this he did this.

“C’mere, bitch,” he calls, and you look over your shoulder to see him beckoning to you. But no sharp shock of obedience zips through you. You feel nothing, save for the ache in your chest. Your fingers flex, curling into the fabric of Pero’s cloak. You’re frozen in place, confused, and then you look down.

Pero’s eyes are closed, the blood that had been oozing from his wound slowed, and in his hand lies the bloody dagger.

The binds that had kept you Farrell’s hostage, kept you bound to his commands, lay in your lap, cut away from your wrists, sliced through with the very blade he’d forced you to use on your love, your soulmate, your Pero.

“Did you hear me?” Farrell shouts, and this time, when you flex your hands wide, you feel the welcoming warmth of magic shooting through your limbs. “I said come here. I’m not finished with you yet.”

Your hand closes around the hilt of Pero’s sword as you stand, dragging it out of his grasp and pulling yourself to your feet. Farrell just stares at you, his brow pinching in confusion.

“Wha—” he starts, and stumbles back a step, but you flash a hand out, keeping him frozen in place, as he had done to you in the woods, as he had when he made you watch your house burn to the ground, watch your every possession turned to ash.

You scream as you drive the blade into him, striking true, slicing through flesh and muscle as you pierce his heart. His eyes go wide as you push hard, sinking him to his knees, your scream echoing through the clearing, shouting until your throat is raw and your eyes blur with fresh tears.

“B-bitch,” he chokes out, blood bubbling out of his mouth, and you just shake your head, wrenching the sword back, watching as your captor falls to the ground, what remains of his life pouring out of him, until his eyes go dark.

The sword clatters to the grass as you spin on your heel, sprinting back to where Pero still lays. His chest is eerily still, and you reach beneath his shirt, praying that the ring you gave him still hangs around his neck.

Instead of one, you find two, your own chain also looped over his head, both rings nestled against his sternum.

All you can do is wait.

You curl up on the ground against him, tucking yourself against his still-warm body. Your palm is pressed flat to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your hand. It never slows, never falters, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. Your magic worked. You kept him safe, kept him alive.

And he came back to you.

You don’t know when, but Soot makes his way back to you, a furry warmth at your back as you curl against Pero, the three of you falling asleep on the grass, the moon watching above, the terror and rage of your ordeal slipping away to become a memory, nothing more.

When you wake, the moon has taken leave, the sun in its place, and Pero is holding you close. You’re both a mess, covered in blood and bruises, but you can’t bring yourself to care, feeling the familiar weight of his hands on your hips, pulling your body onto his, offering you his warmth. You dig your hands into his shoulders, trying your best not to hurt him, avoiding injuries best you can. The gash you’d left in his stomach is closed over, the skin around it bruised, but you know in a few days, it’ll only be a scar. A memory.

“You came back,” you murmur against his collar, feeling him shift beneath you.

“I swore to you, did I not?” he replies, lifting his jaw and kissing your forehead. “William died.”

Your hands clench on his shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“I should have died on that mountaintop,” he says softly, and new tears prick at your eyes, “but my witch kept me safe.”

You nod, and summoning some strength, lift your head to look down at him. Your thumb reaches up to ride the familiar ridge of his scar. “Our home is gone.”

Pero shakes his head, leaning into your touch. “Nonsense, amor. Our home is wherever we go. My home is you.”

For the first time in days, your lips stretch into a smile. “And my home is you.”

You lean down to kiss him properly, the kind of reunion kiss you’d been dreaming about since the day he left. It tastes of iron and salt, your blood and his, tears and dirt and magic. Both your bodies ache like nothing you’ve ever felt before, but you don’t mind it. It’s a reminder, that you lived. Both of you.

Pero groans beneath you when you lean up, your knees either side of his waist. “Gods, how I’ve missed the feel of you on top of me.”

You bite out a laugh, reaching a hand down, pulling both the rings out of his shirt. “You found my ring.”

“In the ash,” he tells you, hands finding your waist again as you loop both chain and cord over his head, both rings resting in the middle of your palm. “I wanted to give it back to you.”

You nod, and Pero just watches as you untie the cord, unclasp the chain, pulling both rings off.

“Lena told me something,” you says softly, reaching for his hand, holding it between yours. “What they call love like ours where she comes from.”

He smiles. “What do they call it, amor?”

“Twin souls,” you reply, taking the larger of the rings, holding it over his fourth finger. “I carry a piece of you with me, and you carry a piece of me with you.”

Pero nods. “I do.”

“Witches don’t get married,” you say, staring at the ring, at his hand. “Not in the traditional sense. No churches.”

“That is understandable,” he replies, and pushes his hand up, so the ring slides down his knuckles. “Warriors do not marry either.” He takes your other hand, pulls the ring from your palm, reaches for your left hand. “We do not usually survive to return to our wives, leaving them widowed too early in life. It was never something I thought of. Until I found you.”

“We’re supposed to make vows,” you murmur, breath hitching as he puts the ring on your finger.

“We are not traditional, are we?” he quips, and you laugh.

Pero pulls you down to him, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, the weight of the ring on his fingers pressing into your skin. “I love you, amor, this day, until my last.”

“This day, until my last,” you repeat. “I love you.”

He kisses you long and hard, breathing life back into you with his love and affection. Slowly, you both get to your feet, Pero draping his cloak around your nearly bare form, the pair of you looking around the clearing at the mess Farrell left behind. Pero keeps his arm around your shoulders, presses a kiss to the side of your head.

This day, until your last.

The body is burned. The tent is torn down, any evidence of your captivity removed from the clearing. Pero is meticulous, refusing to let you lay hands on any of it, urging you to stay at the tree line, Soot in your arms and his cloak still around your shoulders.

Once he’s satisfied, he rouses Farrell’s horse, lifting you into the saddle before taking a seat behind you. For a moment, the memory flickers, your captor pressed against you, but then Pero reaches around you for the reins, his arms loose around you, letting you lean back against his chest, and the memory is gone. You fall in and out of sleep as the horse travels through the forest, Pero warm and familiar against you.

You rouse fully when you reach the field where your cottage once stood. Pero murmurs softly in your ear, kissing the curve of your neck until your eyes open. You’re surprised to see Lena and Tomas standing at the road, your horses saddled and standing behind them.

“You’re alive!” Lena cries as Pero steers the horse close, helping you slip down from the saddle. Your friend hugs you close as soon as you’re within reach. “Oh, thank the Gods.”

You hug her back tightly. “I am.”

“What is all this?” Pero asks, gesturing to the horses, putting an arm around you when Lena releases you.

“Soldiers arrived in the village today,” Tomas answers, a hard expression on his face. “Direction from the king, to help with the witch problem.”

“Witch problem?” you repeat, balking. Then the realization settles over you. “Farrell.”

Pero tightens his grip on you. “I met a man in another village, on my way back. He was the one who supplied Farrell with the means to capture you.”

Your swallow hard, heart racing in your chest. You turn to Pero. “I cannot stay here.”

“We cannot stay here,” he amends, kissing your temple. Then he turns back to Tomas and Lena, extending a hand to Tomas. “Thank you, my friend.”

Tomas just nods, shaking Pero’s hand.

“Oh, I don’t want you to go,” Lena cries, her eyes wet, and she hugs you close again. “Write to us, will you? Once you’re safe. Let us know you’re okay.”

“We will,” you agree, hugging her back. “Kiss the children for me, will you?”

She just nods.

Pero hands Tomas the reins of Farrell’s horse, takes his and yours from his friend. He helps you into your horse’s saddle, Soot making a home in your lap, and starts walking down the road, both horses trailing behind him. Your hand finds its way onto his shoulder, squeezing lightly.

You think about looking back, to the place where your home once stood, to the friends you’ve made, to where your live once was. Your chest aches with melancholy, but once it’s all disappeared from view, once Pero swings himself into his own saddle, leans across to plant a kiss on your lips, both of you nudging your horses into a gallop, the feeling eases.

“Are you worried, amor?” Pero asks.

“No,” you answer, your words honest, a hopeful smile pulling at your lips. “As long as I have you.”

—————

I have a taglist! if you’d like to be tagged in future works, please fill out this form!💕

pero tovar tags: @iamskyereads @ancientbeing10 @woomen23 @plutoneu @pedropascalsx @allfoolsinluv @bluestuesday @i-simp-much @trickstersp8 @kirsteng42 @lovesbiggerthanpride @beskarprincessjenny @loonymagizoologist @greeneyedblondie44 @tanzthompson @mswarriorbabe80 @vickytogisa @dead-pool-simp @ruhro7 @thevoiceinyourheadx @littlemisspascal @pastafossa @boliv-jenta @iccedays @detectivecarisi-1 @Grotzu @paintlavillered @tusk89 @myguiltypleasures21 @alexxavicry @chaoticgeminate @phandoz @psychedelic-ink @jitterbugs927 @amneris21 @legally-a-bastard @geekrenaissance @janebby

#pero tovar #kay’s autumn adventures #the warrior and the witch #my fics #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x you #pero tovar smut #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar fic

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i-eat-worlds · 9 months

Note

11. Bound/tied up and 93. silenced/gagged for Alex please? 👀

-- @whumperofworlds

Oh interesting! Thank you for the ask. This is a flashback to Alex’s captivity with the supervillain she’s working undercover to capture. Alex is undercover as “Olena” for context. Enjoy! Cw: restraints, gags, blood, torture, violence, insults and threats, kinda creepy whumper, minor body horror (whumper morphs his own limb), gang/mafia initiation stuff

“I’m honestly surprised you’re still here, Olena.” Zorland said as his gloved hand made contact with her cheek.

She flicked her head to the side, trying to absorb the blow. It was good that she was face to face with him, she reminded herself. That was one step closer to her initiation, and one step closer to taking him down. This knowledge did nothing to stop the pain.

Her face was bruised, blood dripping from her nose and her split lip. It had soaked into the gag, filling her mouth with the taste of copper.

“My torturer said that you were quite resilient.” Zorland gripped her jaw and forcefully twisted it to the side. “He told me that he had to replace a chair because you broke one. You’ll pay for that.”

A fist landed on her stomach, knocking the wind from her. She tired to ignore the fear that spiked when she found she couldn’t breathe through the bloody gag. It didn’t work.

Zorland released her head, then paced around behind her. “Then, of course, theirs the only minor matter of you nearly biting his ear off!” He grabbed her hair and yanked it back, slamming her head on top of the metal chair’s back.

His other hand slid down her arm till it reached her wrist. They were pulled behind her, bound tightly by a strand of barbed wire. “That won’t do, Olena.” A latex covered finger dug into her wrist, pain radiating from the wound.

She whimpered and Zorland pushed harder. “Ah, there’s the pain I’ve come to enjoy seeing in your eyes.” He let up the pressure and returned to the front of the chair, but the pain in her wrists remained.

She tried her best to erase the pain and fear from her expression as a cruel smile spread across his face. His voice dropped to a whisper as he leaned in close. “You think you’re so strong, don’t you?”

He pulled back, then extended a hand towards her. With an amused expression, his hand began to morph. His nails grew into long, black claws, busting through the flimsy glove, and his skin turned dark purple. The smell of rot and festering flesh filled the air.

Zorland placed the end of his claw at her throat. “You’re nothing.”

Also this is kinda a thing now, so @pigeonwhumps

Ask game

#worlds babbles #ask stuff #whumper-of-worlds #whump #torture tw #whumper #restrained #tw gagging #blood #injuries #alexoc #zorlandoc #I hoped you liked it

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madssaunders111 · 5 months

Text

Liar, Liar! A Seinfeld x Saw AU

The story where everyone is guilty

Characters included: Jerry Seinfeld, Elaine Benes, Cosmo Kramer, Newman, Kenny Bania, George Costanza

Word count: 7.2K

Content Warnings: Torture, death, cursing, mentions of kidnapping, death of an animal

The trap in this fic is the Shotgun Carousel Trap from Saw VI (Six)

~•~

You had just finished a trap involving having to choose who lives between two people. You approached a pair of double doors and placed your ears against it. Faint voices shouted from the other side.

"Help! Is someone there"

"Rescue us?"

"What is this?"

"It's dark in here."

You opened the double doors and the lights turned on along with red spotlights. Your jaw dropped as you saw your six friends sitting on a carousel with their hands tied behind their backs.

"Y/N?" Elaine asked. "What is this?"

"How am I supposed to know Lainey?" You snarled as Jerry, George, Kramer, Kenny and Newman yelled and panicked.

"Get us out of here!" George shouted as he wriggled his body around.

"Is that a gun?" Kenny shouted as he stared down at it.

The carousel slowly continued spinning clockwise, the lights brightly cast down on the group. A tape recorder rest of the table near a machine that had a spike inside it. The recording started to play.

"Hello, Y/N. In front of you are six of your closest friends, friends who have been with you since the very beginning. However, each of them has secrets plaguing them, secrets that can possibly be scandalous. Six ride the carousel, and two can get off, regardless of what they confess. The decision of which two survive is entirely up to you. But remember, no decision comes without pain. All you have to do is press the buttons in the machine in unison and the person will be spared. However, if you don't make a decision, everyone here will perish. Choose wisely, Y/N. Oh, and good luck, you'll certainly need it." The tape ended and everyone's panic increased, including yours. Everyone started shouting on top of each other.

"Y/N, please! Look...I hooked up with Scott, your boyfriend! I did it! It was me!" Elaine shouted as her spot stopped in front of the mounted shotgun. "Oh fuck! Y/N! Please! Have mercy!" The shotgun cocked and the bullet slipped into the chamber. "Please! Forgive me!" Elaine shouted louder than ever.

"No. I can't be friends with a slut!" You shouted out of anger. "How could you do that to me? I loved Scott so much! And you had unprotected sex with him too?! Are you fucking insane? Were you that desperate?"

The shotgun's trigger released shooting Elaine hard in the chest. Jerry, George, Kramer, Kenny and Newman let out panicked shouts as Elaine's blood soaked Jerry's and George's faces and Kenny's and Newman's clothes.

"Oh God! Lainey!" Jerry shouted as he wriggled. His face and hair dripped with sweat.

"Better start confessing!" You shouted as the carousel started to spin again.

"Look, there is something I need to say!" Newman shouted as his spot stopped in front of the shotgun. His eyes widened in fear. "I kidnapped and killed someone's dog! He was always chasing me during my mail route, and he was extremely loud. I couldn't take it anymore! I needed it gone! Your eyes widened in shock.

"You did what?!" You shouted in anger.

"Yes! I admit it!" Newman shouted. "And the owner never found out and never will!"

"You monster!" You shouted. "I love dogs! Dot never hurt anyone, he was innocent!"

"He was a gross mutt!"

The shotgun cocked and aimed up at Newman's chest.

"Save me, damn it! I'll confess to Dot's owner I promise!"

The shotgun trigger released and shot the bullet into Newman's chest.

"Oh God!" Kramer shouted as his face stained with Newman's blood.

The carousel continued spinning again. Newman's and Elaine's bodies were slumped down with their chests torn open. The carousel made another round.

"Look, I want to confess something! More specifically to Jerry!" Kenny shouted.

"Let me guess: Because you steal my jokes and material and pass it off as yours?" Jerry shouted.

"Well..."

Kenny's spot stopped in front of the shotgun.

"Look, I may have stolen Jerry's jokes, but I can never come up with my own stuff! I am a people pleaser! Please, let me live!" Kenny pleaded.

"People pleaser is an understatement!" Jerry shouted. "Now, I know why you always performed after me!"

"Kenny, Jerry, stop arguing!" Kramer shouted.

"Please, Y/N. I beg you!" Kenny whimpered.

"Plagiarism is against the law you know that right Bania?" You asked.

"Yeah...but it's not applied to comedy routines, just books and essays."

You turned your gaze towards the spike machine. You leaned your hand towards it.

"Push the button! Do it!" Kenny pleaded. As you stared the machine down, you moved your hand away.

"No! No!" Kenny shouted.

The shotgun cocked again and pointed upward toward Kenny's chest. Kenny wriggled and whimpered as the shotgun released the bullet into his chest. His body slumped down and blood dripped down his shirt.

"Holy crap!" George shouted.

His and Kramer's faces were stained with Kenny's blood while the back of Jerry's shirt was splattered. The carousel started spinning again.

"Three left! Confess now!" You shouted.

"I have nothing to hide! Honest!" Jerry shouted. "I haven't broken a law or anything!"

"Kramer, George!" You shouted.

"I may have pretended to be handicapped just to get a better bathroom...but it wasn't that bad!" George shouted.

"The fuck?" You shouted back.

" I apologized for it!" George whimpered. "But either way I still did it!"

The carousel stopped and George sat in front of the shotgun. His eyes widened in fear. “Please, Y/N, have a heart! I don't want to be like Elaine, Newman, and Kenny!" George pleaded. "Please! I'm sorry!”

"Remember Susan? Your fiance? She died because of envelopes YOU picked out!" You shouted.

"That wasn't my fault! I didn't know they were toxic!"

"They were extremely cheap! That should've been the first hint!"

"I apologized!"

The shotgun cocked and pointed up at George. "Y/N! Y/N! Please!"

The shotgun's trigger was pulled and the bullet shot into George's chest. His body slumped down and blood dripped down. Kramer and Jerry wriggled in fear.

"Jesus!" Jerry shouted.

The carousel started spinning again.

"Please, Y/N. Please!" Jerry wriggled his body around.

"What have you done Seinfeld? Anything illegal?" You asked. "Anything you want to confess?"

"I think this is fucked up!" Jerry shouted.

"Didn't you park in a handicapped parking spot?" Kramer shouted.

"Well yes...but because of you!"

"It wasn't my idea, it was George's!"

“Well, it was one of your guys’ idea!” I shouted as the carousel stopped. Jerry was positioned in front of the gun.

“Please, Y/N, you know me!” Jerry pleaded. “I’ve never committed a crime in my life.”

“You might not have committed a crime but you did buy an Indian statue from the pawn shop and give it to one of Elaine’s friends who was a Native-American!”

“So…I didn’t know that!” Jerry shouted. “Please, no!” The shotgun loaded and released the trigger. Blood splattered out of Jerry’s chest.

“Crap!” Kramer shouted as the carousel descended again. As the carousel stopped, he realized that he was the only one alive. “Well that’s over, huh?!”

You looked down at the machine in shame.

“When you’re killing me, you look at me!” Kramer shouted as he wriggled in the chains. The shotgun loaded and seconds later shot into his chest.

The room was silent and still. You let out a quiet sigh and left the room closing the door behind you, leaving the six bodies trapped.

#imagines #seinfeld #90s sitcom #george costanza #newman #saw #cosmo kramer #jerry seinfeld #Elaine Benes #saw trap #shotgun carousel #80s

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lunarxdaydream · 10 months

Text

Howls of pain are echoing; a crack followed with a pitch that nearly made her shudder with delight. Against cool rocks, the melody is free to travel through the labyrinth of the ancient system. Beneath puddles of water do the indents of dragged feet linger. Familiar patterns of nails clawing in desperation to escape but to no avail. They are abandoned. Expendable tokens to use as she pleased …

“My sweet darlings!”

Jaws bite down with a ferocity of an eager animal. Glimmering orbs of steel blue to ruby all turn in her direction; nostrils flared to inhale the scent of the celestial before powerful tails swished behind in what could only be joy. Pitch black doors of steel remain wide open in the expansive caverns. Their meals lay in scattered mess of flowing crimson; a stench enough to even make Lucrezia’s nose scrunch.

“My babies …”, she cooed as her figure rose in the air to reach the head of a scaled beast; twin tail spiked and cutting into rock as its head tilt into her caress. “I was beginning to worry.”

“Did you behave for me?”

“Define ‘behave’.”

Corners turned up as a figure emerged from the abyss of the doors. His hand resting in his pocket as an object is tossed to the emerald beast who clamped down with a speed that could make any mother proud. “I was wondering if you were still around.” A few more pieces were thrown into the center with a sickening splash before the pack delved in.

“You figured it out.”

“I did.” Just the sheer size of their wings is enough to leave the celestial reeling with excitement as the nest fell into the throes of hunger. Relentless. Merciless. Not even a grain of crushed bone is left — oh have sweetly they have grown! Far too much time has passed since she last watched the dragão. The joy they will have once they take to the skies!

— But first …

Stone trembles as an old groan of hinges tore through the noise. Beneath rock and calcium, dust of diamonds falling to the ground as a wave to shore. There, the god squints against the brightness before sapphire veil settled in place. Contents beyond obscured but nothing to alert the creatures as Lucrezia parted to caress the surface.

“Dinner is ready.”

One by one, prisoners wander through with a gasp of fright. Their final chance to turn and run denied by the gate.

There is only one way out, and as the creatures stood on high upon powerful legs, eyes aglow with blood stained fangs, the final screams of plea fell on deaf ears.

“Tell Valeriya we have much to discuss.”

#( Lucrezia || drabble )#( q: with the pups )

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grumpy-zane · 2 years

Text

Gone Like the Wind - Trainjago Oneshot Ft. FSM and Favrile(OC)

Among the gentle tickering of dishes on uneven surfaces shone the light in gentle rays. The tall flat-headed spikes of rock cut the sun out in breaks, becoming more frequent as the train carried on its course through the canyon. From the chair he sat, sipping away at his cider and keeping an eye on the time and his surroundings. This trip was especially important, if not for the joys of being a round trip for this engine’s first time, but for the special guest who decided to let himself rest from his travels.

The door from the steam room opened up as the conductor called to him, "Time." "Yep yep," Favrile set his mug down and fixed his gloves, double checking his pockets for everything. Wallet, glasses case, log book, keys... He played with them in his hand, squeezing the metal together as he set his jaw.

The cart slid down the aisle of the first car, then the second, third, stopping at the people who wanted a refill or a bite. Conversation was struck up a few times, about the train, about the location, the news and weather, and he laughed in the light atmosphere.

He closed the door behind him in the final passenger car, where he awkwardly locked an eye with the special guest himself. "Sorry, Master, tried to be as quick as I could, I know this stuff cools down pretty quickly." The man with the straw hat and hidden eyes sat lazily in the booth. He was the only one in this car, sitting alone in silence with nothing but the sound of the cars rumbling along the beams. "Don't be sorry, I would just like more water." He chuckled. "O-of course," Far tipped his hat some and reached for the pitcher. The liquid filled the glass, "This ride is going smooth, a lot more smooth than I thought." the FSM took a sip. Favrile gleamed, "We wouldn't want anything less for our passengers, such a long ride needs to be comfortable. The engine on this one is one I made myself ah, has a lot in the reservation and efficiency department, and less on the lode and speed. Have you ever seen an engine room before?" the words fell from his mouth without him even thinking. Internally he kicked himself. "No, actually, I haven't. That's partly the reason why I wanted to take this trip, to learn a bit more about how my world has evolved." Far stared at him with a smile that was held by a dozen invisible fish hooks as he held the pitcher, "I can show you it right now if you'd like! I'm sure Wuul wouldn't mind trading shifts." He pushed the cart down a little further and let Him out of his seat before going over and holding open the door to the outside. "Just go right on ahead."

"Thanks, oh-" the knob didn't budge. "It's locked." "What?" Far let go of the cart he was retrieving and went over to test it. indeed, the door of the next car over was locked from the inside. He immediately started patting around for the keys, feeling his wallet, glasses case, log book and... "I don't have them.." He stared wide-eyed, looking about and grabbing for the ladder. "Don't worry I'll be back, I just gotta get them." The FSM laughed at the mild inconvenience, "Don't fret so much, I'll come with you." He, as well, grabbed onto the ladder.

He felt his heart pounding in his ears, "It's dangerous to be doing this Master, are you sure?" Far called from the roof, holding a hand out for him. It was in motion now, he thought, it was now or never. Giving him a chance would mean losing a chance.

"Certainly, I've been alive for a long time, a little wind never-" The yank cut him off and loosened his footing, the FSM scrambling to latch onto anything other than the assailant that pulled. Favrile let go, watching him fall and snag onto the lower railing. He glared and slid down the rungs, slamming his black boots into his fingers over and over. The FSM gasped and yelped, trying to get enough air against the pressure and pain to scream for help. Favrile noted the action, causing him to him to grab the rail and leap over, letting his body weight slam against him and knocking him loose once more.

The cars behind jittered uncomfortably from the object that had lodged itself in their path, the noise being brief as they carried on and reduced it to paste. Favrile wedged his boot into the gap between the bar and the car to catch himself, gasping and pulling himself back over the railing onto the floor grate with a thud. He huffed and pulled himself to his feet, blinking a few times as if it were a dream he was trying to wake from. He leaned over the side, expecting something or someone to pop up, but there was nothing beyond the stony canyon walls.

"Time," Far chimed as he pulled the cart back in and set the trays back on the heater. Wuul looked up from the newspaper, "That took longer than normal." "Yeah. Was looking for The Master, but I guess he had other plans." He sat down in the chair rather stiffly. Wuul nodded, "Gone like the wind, he's mysterious like that I guess. But if you're God you can do anything like that." He looked back down at the paper. "Yeah, Gone like the wind."

#trainjago #ninjago #the FSM is dead rest in peace v_v #Then the serpentine wars happen right after or w/e haha oopsie!

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odetojeons · 3 years

Text

Until It Feels Like You’re In Heaven — Jeon Wonwoo

request: Hello do you still take requests? Your writing is amazingggg!! Thank you for existing 😭💕. Can i req a whipped dom!wonwoo x fem reader where he has a size kink and a smol gf please? I think that will be a cute concept 🥺

tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!wonwoo, size kink, tattoed and pierced jeon wonwoo just because, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (uh idk why but I never write sex with a condom help), established wonwoo x reader, a tiiiny bit of spitting kink, very light verbal humiliation, aftercare, this goes from fluff to horny really quickly, fluff if you squint (or not?), a frankly unrealistic amount of cum, OH AND, stomach bulge 🥴

a/n: so haha I am back? with more filth? I tried adding fluff (even tho I completely forgot that the person who made the request asked for whipped wonwoo, good thing this is always in my agenda every time I write so I didn't have any problems lmfao) but I'm too much of a horny bitch and a simp for this man so,, idk? tell me what you think later! I hope you all perish— I mean, like this!

Word Count: 7826

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Aren’t you going to help?” you question, lifting a brow at your boyfriend, who’s currently sitting in one of the chairs and supporting his chin with the palm of his hand, plate of onions that should be already cut laying untouched in front of him.

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“Nope,” Wonwoo answers, giving you that kind of smile which makes you almost, almost feel less annoyed at the fact that you’ve been trying to reach something in the upper shelves for the last five minutes and he doesn’t move his ass to help you at all. “You’re just too cute trying to reach something.”

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There’s heat creeping up your neck, cheeks tinting red, and Wonwoo's smile gets bigger, shining and full of fondness. It leaves you stunned in silence for a while. It’s hard not to be in love with him. But it’s not like you try anyways.

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“J-just hurry up, aren’t you hungry?” you cough, looking away solely because you can’t stand the warmness in Wonwoo’s face without feeling like you’re going to combust any time soon.

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“I am. I can help you out,” he states simply, but doesn’t make a move. You gesticulate with your hand, pointing at him and at the rice jar in the upper shelf. “But only if you say please, though.”

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“I’m—” laughing incredulously, you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Would you please get the rice jar for me, sir?”

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Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long, eyes a bit dark, and gets up to get the jar, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively make yourself smaller when his bigger and broader frame hovers over you, large enough to swallow your tiny body. The size difference has always been something you both feel incredibly turned on by.

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“So small,” he appreciates, always does, and your neck burns from the intensity of your blushing. “The cutest.”

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Wonwoo puts the rice jar in your hands, the darkness in his face melting into a beam.

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“Here it goes, little girl,” he says, going back to his chair to complete the task which he has been doing for at least ten minutes now. The way he says little girl has you dumbfounded, heart hammering against your chest. “Are you just going to stand there? Do you like being called little that much?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up,” you admonish, blushing furiously as you turn on your back to continue what you were doing. You just hate how everything Wonwoo does affects you so much. You’re sure this must be bad for your health.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The two of you continue your journey through cooking and eating after you’re both done with the preparations. Things with Wonwoo are always so easy, everything feels natural and domestic and the bubbling feeling of happiness you feel whenever you’re with him lulls you to fall in love with him even deeper than before.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The way he teases you when you’re clumsy and spill sauce over yourself, but still cleans you up with the most fond smile ever, like you’re so completely adorable he can’t help himself. Or when you put more salt in the food than you should and you know it’s not that good, but he still compliments it and tells you he loves it so much, the sincerity in his eyes makes a surge of something pull at your lower stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

If Jeon Wonwoo isn’t the love of your life, you don’t know who is.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But right now you just want the ground to eat you alive and swallow you whole, because you’re standing right in front of the bed. The one bed. To which it suddenly doesn’t look big enough, not as you remember.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Well, it’s not like you have never shared a bed before, you have even had a shit ton of sex in this exact piece of mattress, but the thing is, it’s been a while since you last saw Wonwoo. His job required him to spend three months away, and this is the first time you came to his house ever since he came back two days ago.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You consider throwing yourself out of the window and into the dark, miserable night, thinks your poor heart will explode otherwise.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m not going to eat you.” Wonwoo’s voice carries over from the bathroom door, startling you into action. You jerk toward the bed, jumping on it and face flushing. You had showered before him, now dressed with one of his big shirts.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It fell all the way to your mid thigh, the size difference between the two of you making you almost drown on the fabric of his clothes. It smells nice, smells like Wonwoo, and your cheeks burn when he drinks the sight of you in with dark eyes, not even trying to hide.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Unless you want me to,” he adds, not helping your situation at all.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

BSHANDJAJSND?, your brain supplies.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Oh my god,” you admonish, yanking the blanket off the bed and just as you get in, your eyes hone in on the ink swirling up Wonwoo’s right biceps. You have seen the tattoo through the pictures he sent you before, the snake crawling up to his shoulder, head stopping at his right chest.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This is, however, the first time you’ve seen the metal bar through one of Wonwoo’s nipples — to which you already knew the existence of, but looking in person is totally different —, heat winding in the pit of your belly as you realize the snake is looking right at that same nipple. Unfortunately for your poor heart, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, hanging low on his hips, slim waist on display.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is… hot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s no other way to put it despite your best efforts. He looks like one of those Greek statues, rippling muscle and hand carved abs, the cut of his jaw too sharp to be real. Your mouth waters and you can’t look away.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And Wonwoo has been changing. He always had the thin type of body, being slim and tall, but in the end of last year he started exchanging the lazy hours he spent gaming with animated workouts at the gym — something about the way he was wasting his precious time of life and he could be acquiring knowledge and being healthy instead of sitting in front of a computer for hours —, and holy fuck if the result wasn’t quite the damn view.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You draw the blanket right up to your chin, back very purposefully to Wonwoo’s side of the bed as you’re still trying to stop the mild heart attack you have going on. You don’t want to see him climbing into bed for safety purposes but that doesn’t mean your heart rate doesn’t spike up when the bed dips. When Wonwoo settles down under the same blanket, your brain very enthusiastically — and meaningfully — points out that you’re only a few centimeters away and that there’s nothing separating you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

His abs flash behind your eyes and you nearly throw the blanket off, ready to storm out of the room and sleep on the sofa instead. You let out a breath you don’t even know you’re holding when Wonwoo flicks the flight off, the room disappearing into darkness, before he turns on the red leds from under his bed.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You feel warm all over with the fact that he still remembers you don’t like sleeping in complete darkness.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You try not to tense too much when he drapes an arm around your waist, locking you in. Your legs tangle together as he adjusts himself better, the other arm coming behind your head to serve as a pillow. Now you’re not only dying from the closeness but as well essentially drooling over the bulge of his thick biceps.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Congratulations universe for managing to make you even more desperate.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure how long you just lie there, staring out the window, unable to fall asleep. Your brain doesn’t want to shut off, a blaring alarm of Jeon Wonwoo going off in your head.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I missed you so much,” Wonwoo says as if he read your thoughts, voice soft and filled with warmth, and you find yourself immediately melting in his arms despite your nervousness. “Thought I was going crazy without you, munchkin.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a hard squeeze in your heart. You just love so much when he calls you that.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Missed you too,” you admit with a smile, the tip of Wonwoo’s nose dragging through your hair as he inhales the smell of his own shampoo. “Missed your smell.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Just my smell?” Wonwoo teases with a light tone, caressing his free hand on your inner thigh. It was supposed to be a feather-like gesture, but the closeness between the two of you made your body oversensitive, and you find yourself moaning softly as your skin rocks with a shiver.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo tenses immediately when he hears the sound, hand stuttering to a stop. There’s a beat of what you call the most painful silence you ever had — your mind swirls with the thought that you just ruined the mood, face heating up uncontrollably at your own neediness —, before his fingers sink into the flesh of your inner thigh, startling you with the strength behind his grip.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Answer me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You whine louder this time, the realization of his change of tone going from fond to an irrevocable order sinking wanton deep within your lower stomach. You try to close your legs, but Wonwoo’s leg stops you where it rests right in the middle of them, dangerously close to your throbbing core. You wonder if he could feel the heat emanating from it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“N-no,” you begin, voice already shaken up. Wonwoo’s breath caresses the helix of your ear, making goosebumps surge all over your skin. “Missed y-your bed too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Is that so?” he hums, chest vibrating where it presses against your back. “What else, munchkin?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Missed—” your voice gets caught up in your throat when he licks your helix, teeth pulling the lobe of your ear. The soft drag of his lips all over that place is making your job difficult. “M-missed all of you, hmmm.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo hums again, pleased with your answer, and leans so close to you your body gets half pinned to the bed. This way his bigger frame completely engulfs your smaller one, the difference between your sizes getting even more overwhelming now that he’s bulked up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And you’re not the only one affected by it, because as soon as Wonwoo realizes how he almost swallows you up in this position, he downright moans right by your ear.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So fucking small,” he tells you appreciatevely, voice one octave lower as his fingers presses on your inner thigh harder. “Missed touching you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a shift in Wonwoo, his leg rising up between yours and stopping centimeters away from the heat of your cunt, and you can’t hold back the shiver, wants Wonwoo to press down there. When you attempt to slide Wonwoo’s hand up and off of you so then you could turn around, you’re met with a growl instead, Wonwoo bodily pinning you to the bed.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and it makes you feel like you’re a prey just ready to be caught by the big, bad wolf. You whine softly at that thought, hand coming to grab at Wonwoo’s wrist reflexively.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” is your answer, like that would explain everything. Wonwoo chuckles softly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“When we called and I saw your face,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Suddenly, you can’t remember how to breathe, Wonwoo’s mouth on your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear. He nuzzles into the same spot, kisses lower and your heart shakes loud enough you think the neighbors might hear, hyperaware of every inch of your bodies touching.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I know I couldn’t, so I did it all from behind,” Wonwoo admits, sending your mind into a little haze. Of course he has been jerking off to the thought of you, but hearing him say it out loud has your panties getting soaked. “Sticking my dick in…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo hasn’t stopped nuzzling you, in some kind of daze as he inhales your scent. There’s a hand on your hip now, holding you down, liquid heat pooling in your belly, spreading outward.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“…and fucking you mercilessly…” he continues, voice getting deeper and rougher with each word, his breath labored. “…and watching you cum endlessly… I thought I would be fine just imagining it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Won—” you start, breathless, the sound of your own voice sounding so airy leaving you embarrassed. But then finally, finally he presses his thigh into your core, your hips immediately going down to rut hard against the muscle.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fucking drenched,” Wonwoo snarls lowly when he feels the wetness of your soaked panties dirtying the fabric of his sweatpants.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The sound makes you writhe on the bed, fists balling in the mattress.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“But seeing you, so small…” the trace of Wonwoo’s hand in your skin is light, almost like a gentle whisper as it makes a burning path up, up, up until it stops by your neck, fingers closing softly around your throat. “Makes me want to rail you, carve the shape of my big cock inside your walls.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s teeth sink into the skin just at the base of your neck. It’s hardly a bite, you know he could leave worse, but then Wonwoo laps at it afterwards, tender, surrenders you into moving your hips obscenely on his thigh. The way he says, knows his cock is big has heat licking your insides, and if it were anyone else saying the same thing you would be cringed, but there’s just something special about Jeon Wonwoo doing this that makes him look like the hottest man alive.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re addicting,” Wonwoo admits with a growl, the feeling of his touch turning possessive as he helps you ride his thigh better by a hand on your waist. “Once I get a taste I can’t stop myself from wanting more. Wanna have my way with you until you’re all mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Need seeps through your bones, body trembling as you try to scatter the air it has been knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo fits his cock in the curve of your ass.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you’re hard,” you comment, as if it’s not obvious, but it has been so long since the last time you felt his bulge pressing against you that it makes you desperate. “You’re so hard.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Who’s fault do you think it is?” Wonwoo questions, groaning when you sway your hips from side to side on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Can we…” you trail off, hiding your face in the pillow. “Y-you know?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Nope, you gotta be more specific,” he says with a teasing smile, and you smack him in the arm. Wonwoo laughs before his voice gets serious. “Say it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This switch of him turning on and off between a sweet boyfriend to the man who doms you never fails to give you a whiplash.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Can we— Can w-we fuck?” you ask shyly, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. You have no idea why you are being this shy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hmm, it depends,” Wonwoo hums like he’s considering the options. You turn to look at him, mortified, but he only laughs at your indignation. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush furiously at the question, face turning to look away as you mumble a yes, but then Wonwoo’s grabbing at your jaw and yanking your head back in place until you’re staring right in the deepness of his eyes, the intensity of them stunting you into complete silence.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he orders, leaving no room for arguments, and you nod your head quickly at that. “Out loud.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes,” you hurry to obey, watching satisfaction curl all over his face. “‘M always a good girl.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I don’t think so, munchkin,” Wonwoo grins, wicked and teasing, and you brace yourself for whatever is going to happen this night. “Sometimes you’re so desperate and impatient you can’t even wait for me before fucking yourself with those plastic toys of yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” and you’re unable to look away even when shame burns all over your body. “H-how did you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“How did I know?” your sentence morphs into a moan when Wonwoo presses his thigh so hard against you cunt it has your body jumping a little. “You think I wouldn’t feel how you’re more loose when I fucked you? You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is mercilessly dragging your hips up and down his leg, your whines sounding high and sweet in your own ears.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re oblivious even to yourself,” he tells you, tone rough as he ruts against your ass. Your heart lurches in your chest, Wonwoo’s words like a hot coal in the pit of your belly, erupting into flames. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, cunt pulsing with arousal. “Even today, the way you were staring at me…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s touch is gone. His hands leave your hips, thigh frees you from the pressure, and the warmth seems so far now. You turn, complaint already at the tip of your tongue, but Wonwoo’s faster, rougher as he manhandles you on your back and hovers over your body, caging you in with his arms.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You looked like a prey who has just been caught into the wolf’s den,” he smiles at you, wicked and cruel as he grabs your jaw and pushes your head back. “Like you wanted me to break you in until it feels like you’re in heaven.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a breath against your bare neck, his groan hitting your skin when he bites it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Or eat you up until there’s nothing left in you that doesn’t belong to me,” you’re definitely not expecting the moan that escapes Wonwoo’s mouth, so affected and deep it’s got all the hairs in your nape standing up, every fiber of your body telling you to submit. “Fuck, and it turns me on so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You make a sound out of neediness, hands reaching for Wonwoo. He goes easily, body pressing into yours as he crashes your lips together. Wonwoo kisses you like he wants to conquer you, licking into the seam of your mouth and teeth scraping at your bottom lip just so he could soothe the pain later with his tongue. Your head spins with the intensity of it, it’s messy and there’s too much spit and teeth, but that only makes it even more addicting.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But Wonwoo doesn’t kiss you enough today. He almost never does when he’s feeling like that — possessive, mean, wicked even, when he needs you to know your damn place —, wants to ebb the pleasure away when you’re starting to get hotter until it’s replaced by pure desperation and you can’t do anything else other than beg for him to give in to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

So that’s what you do, staring up at his eyes trained on you as if you’re a prey.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please,” you start, voice caught into a moan when Wonwoo’s fingers sink into your jaw and his mouth falls ajar, like the sound of you saying this particular word gives a physical stroke to his cock. “P-please, fuck me. Wanna— Wanna belong t-to you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And that’s enough. That’s enough, that’s enough, Wonwoo wants, you want, and he’ll give that to you since he has always been a weak man for your begging. There’s a fraction of seconds that he thinks he might pass out with all the blood rushing from his head to his other head, cock throbbing in his sweatpants.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Don’t know how so much eagerness fits into this little body of yours,” Wonwoo murmurs against your mouth, his hand squeezing your face. You find yourself parting your mouth open, whining, pliant and overwhelmed as Wonwoo slips his tongue in again, kissing you filthy. The scent of his familiar cologne is so sharp, surrounding you and leaving your mind dazed until all you can think is Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo. When he pulls back this time, Wonwoo pushes his thumb into your mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watches you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it further into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan around it, watching Wonwoo’s every reaction, the way his breath hitches, shoulders tensing. There’s a shift on the bed, Wonwoo moving up and up and up and you can’t breathe because now the bulge pressing against the fabric of his clothes is standing proudly right in front of your face, Wonwoo almost straddling your chest. You let the realization that he’s going to fuck your mouth sink deep within your core, and try not to show how deeply affected you are by the idea.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You fail, of course, hips lifting off of the bed and falling down again, biting around the finger inside of your mouth that keeps you from taking a better look in the place you are dying to see.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“That desperate to suck me off, baby?” Wonwoo asks, and you flush, hate how you love the humiliated burn, how it makes you wetter. You’re too embarrassed to throw something back at Wonwoo, gaze dropping to his erect cock the best you can. He pushes your head back up, making you look at him instead. “Do you wanna see it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I do,” you reply, a little too fast for your own good, and it only serves for Wonwoo to laugh at your neediness. You debate if you’re as red as you think you are, the burn in your cheeks spreading all the way down to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Wonwoo’s tone is almost condescending, still playful, like he doesn’t think you can even handle the sight of his cock, and you like how it makes your cunt twitch and ache. It’s as if you enjoy the belittlement, enjoy the way Wonwoo wants you to prove yourself.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m,” you start, swallowing, “I’m ready.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s smile is a touch dark, nearly a sneer, but his hand leaves your mouth to hook a thumb in the waistband of his pants. You nearly drool. He pulls on the fabric until his cock is free, slapping against your left cheek and smearing precum on your face. Your head spins, realising that even this part of Wonwoo’s body seemed to have grown bigger. Maybe it’s your imagination, haven’t actually seen it in real life for the past three months, but the thickness is intimidating.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The best intimidating possible.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your heart thuds in your chest, unable to look away from his cock. There’s spit collecting on your tongue, embarrassment fighting against your desire to please. Leaning forward, you suckle the tip into your mouth, making a pleased sound when you taste the salty tang of precum.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo leans back a bit, wanting to assess your face better, and the taut lines of his body contorts in an even hotter way with the new position. You moan again, staring at the piercing in Wonwoo’s nipple and the head of the inked snake looking at it, and sucks on the head, tongue pushing along the underside. Your body throbs with your own heated desire.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wrap a hand around the base, gut twisting hotly when you realise you can’t even get your fingers all the way around — no matter how many times you notice this, they all make you feel equally needy. And you’re not the only one affected by it, Wonwoo’s hips kicking forward and cock thrusting inside of your mouth, the growl he lets out going straight to your core.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” he says, breath audible enough to echo inside the room. “I will ruin you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The confession has your body arching for a few seconds, sucking hard on the tip of Wonwoo’s cock until he’s moaning at the feeling. He takes a fistful of your hair, but you push against the hold so you could take more of it into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Quit it,” Wonwoo demands, your displeased whine making his hold grow firmer. “Do as you’re told or you might not get my cock at all tonight.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He pulls you off, your pants loud and labored.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did I make myself clear?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yes, sir,” you add just for the teasing — but mostly because you want Wonwoo to punish you for making him lose his beloved control —, feeling pleased as you watch the clear change of expressions going on in Wonwoo’s face. His eyes darken impossibly more, eyebrows frowning and then there’s a hand on your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your mouth goes dry as soon as his fingers close around your throat, body writhing and mind going into submission mode.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Filthy little slut,” Wonwoo snarls, face suddenly close, and then he’s spitting into your open mouth and you feel like you will come very soon. You flinch, eyes shutting on reflex, and then moan. “Want me to punish you, don’t you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t say anything, can’t say anything, but you hope the look in your eyes answers his question. It probably does, because there’s a tiny little smirk playing on the edge of Wonwoo’s lips before he kisses you, softer than you could ever imagine he would be in this moment.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” he breathes, the sudden confession making a different kind of burn itch your throat. You know very well that when Wonwoo tells you that I’m the middle of sex then it’s because this will be a passionate fucking. One of those that he keeps your body so close you think you might become one with him, one of those he kisses you so gently one moment only to treat you roughly in the other, one of those he wants to make you fall apart, crumble and cry and even so, it will be full of love and care and sweetness. “I love you so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t need to, he knows your heart belongs to him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say ah for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo instructs and you obey, mouth hanging open, tongue out. Wonwoo slaps his cock against it, precum dirtying your tongue as the slap slap slap of his cock hitting your mouth fills the heavy air of the room. He even traces the tip over your upper lip, smearing precum along your cheek when he slaps your face with it before placing his cock right back on your waiting tongue. “Put this mouth to better use.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You do, eager to do as you’re told after Wonwoo’s confession, blood singing from his praise and his disparagement alike. You sink down onto it as far as you can take it, nearly gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Wonwoo drowns out a broken “fuck” above you, stroking your cheek and moving further in the bed to lessen the awkward twist of your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” Wonwoo breathes, voice strained as you suck him off, head bobbing. He brushes your hair back, little groans and growls escaping him every time his cock hits the back of your throat, you swallowing around it, or when you speed up, fucking your mouth on Wonwoo’s length. “Such a pretty little cocksucker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush, heart hammering in your chest with the compliment, but he closes a fist in your hair and makes you stop all movements.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” Wonwoo starts, holding your wrist with his free hand and putting your fingers above his thigh. You know that it means if you want me to stop, tap twice, and it makes heat coil in your belly. “until you gag.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan a bit uncontrollably around his cock, legs kicking in the bed at the affirmation, and Wonwoo is staring at you with a look you can’t quite describe. It makes you ashamed of being so eager but at the same time proud of being his little cockslut.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo holds you in place, hips bucking into your mouth. He goes slow at first, wanting you to get used with the feeling because it has been a while since the last time you sucked him off. It is short lived, as soon as you look up at him and nod — the best you could with your movements being kind of restricted —, his thrusts turn sharp and fast, your jaw aching from how long you had Wonwoo’s fat cock in your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan, one of your hands still working up and down along Wonwoo’s shaft as he fucks into you, tears beginning to prickle at the corners of your eyes. He falls a bit forward when you start gagging a little, throat convulsing around his thickness, and he sprawls his fingers in the wall for support.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck fuck fuck, shit,” Wonwoo breathes, voice gravelly, his grip in your hair getting tighter and tighter. Tingles spark down your spine, wetness pouring out of you and soaking your panties even more and you want so desperately to come, to be fucked, but you want to please him first.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s thrusts begin to turn erratic as he fucks your mouth, a growl erupting out of him on a particularly hard thrust, and then he’s pulling away. You look at him, mind in a haze, but still dumbfounded. His breath is labored and he looks like he’s having a hard time keeping together, hips thrusting into the air. It boosts your ego to see him this messed up because of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did so well for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo tells you, voice strained from effort but still full of fondness, and you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach at the praise. It seems like he wants his orgasm to ebb away. At the look you’re giving him, he adds: “Wanna cum with you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You mewl at the thought, watching him position himself between your legs again and kissing you slowly. Wonwoo caresses your cheek with a gentle thumb, other hand tracing a feather-like path down your body. His fingers brush against your nipple, the whine you let out being swallowed by Wonwoo’s greedy mouth, and he sneaks his hand under your shirt just as his kisses fly to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And then Wonwoo’s sucking. Hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It caughts you off guard, hips lifting off of the bed and thigh pressing tightly against Wonwoo’s cock, his groan being muffled by your skin. He bites, suckles and kisses the particular spot underneath your jaw, so far up your neck you won’t be able to hide it, especially because it’s summer. And you feel warm all over, how he always remembers exactly your pleasure point, the place that has your head spinning with pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands fly to his hair, cunt throbbing with need when he tongues at the purple hickey, and it’s throbbing, pulsating with how hard he sucked. It leaves you breathless, not having time to recover when Wonwoo pulls your shirt up until he can get one nipple into his mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwon, fuck,” you whimper, body oversensitive with all that has been going on, and Wonwoo growls at the nickname, hand coming to pinch your other nipple like he’s telling you how much this affects him. “Please—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo bites at it, tongue coming to soothe the pain later, and you’re sure the grip you have on his hair must be painful, but he says nothing; only looks more intent on making you moan. Wonwoo busies himself with sucking hickeys all over the place as one of his hands continues to descend down your body, thumb pressing in a spot by your hips that has your back arching and a desperate whine being pulled out of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Down and down, his fingers then slips inside your penties, brushing across your clit so lightly that it has your whole body rocking with shivers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s body goes completely still. You feel him tensing under your palms, heat already flooding your face when you know he feels it, feels the way you’re already stretched open for him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You—” he starts but stops himself, pushing a finger inside for great measure. Wonwoo growls when he meets almost no resistance, face lifting from where it rests on your chest to look at you. “When?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The intensity of his voice leaves your mouth dry.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“E-earlier, in the— in the s-shower,” you confess, voice quiet, and you can’t look away, Wonwoo’s eyes pinning you to your spot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hah,” he states simply, a sound of pleasant surprise, and adds another finger inside. Wonwoo pushes them to the hilt, until his knuckles brush your pelvis. You moan, head thrown back at the sudden, but welcomed intrusion. “Acting all nervous around me but this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He gyrates his hand, pushing hard and without mercy, right before he adds another finger, this time more slowly. It burns a little, his fingers way bigger than yours, but you love the slight pain.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come into my house knowing I would fuck you?” Wonwoo asks, knows the answers but does it anyway. He moves his hand a little, waiting for your to be more comfortable with the sensation of his fingers, but as soon as your frown turns upside down, Wonwoo has no restrains whatsoever, fucking into you fast and sharp. “Fingered yourself knowing that I would split you open on my big cock?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even think straight, hips rising off of the bed, but Wonwoo holds your waist with his free hand and pins them down hard. Your upper body lifts with this, back arching and legs kicking everywhere as you can’t stop the loud moans slipping through your lips, doesn’t even care about the neighbors as your nails sink into Wonwoo’s back to the point it might leave tiny crescent moons all over it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come back then?” Wonwoo continues, pace unforgiving even when tears well up into your eyes. He trusts you to use your safeword if needed as much as you trust him to use his. “Did you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You struggle to answer, voice being surrendered to moans and whines and whimpers and it’s hard to focus when he’s hitting your sweet spot with the tip of his fingers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah! Ah, hmmm, f-fuck, please Won— Wonwon,” you try, can’t even understand how you still manage to get red when you realise Wonwoo is looking at you with so much desire. The point you both most like about your relationship is that Wonwoo is the dom, but he knows you have him in the palm of your tiny hands. “I, ah, d-din’t. Di— Didn’t want to, fuck, please— c-come without you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out at that, your cunt clenching around nothing as he goes lighting fast to take both of your clothes off, grab your waist and flip you on your stomach just as he reaches for the nightstand to grab what you know very well it’s a bottle of lube. He pulls your hips up until you’re face down, ass up on the bed, the hurry in all of this only sending desperation all over your body, and the sound of the cap being opened has butterflies in your stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Fuck,” Wonwoo sounds a mess, fingers hurrying to close a fist on his cock and jerk it off furiously to spread the lube better, the wet head nudging against your rim. “Fuck, shit, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Do it,” you beg. “Please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And who is he to deny what you want?

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pushes inside you slowly despite his hunger, knows he’s big and there’s an alarming size difference between the both of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands clench into fists and it feels like you’re being impaled onto Wonwoo’s cock, going deeper than any cock you ever taken before. Tears cling to your lashes as a small jolt of pain runs up your spine, the lube easing Wonwoo’s way in. Overall you’re proud of yourself, haven taken him before, more times than you can count, and you accommodate his cock like a pro.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your chest heaves, no amount of air feels like enough as Wonwoo’s cock all but punches everything out of you. You’re biting at the pillow by the time the last of it pushes into you, a haze surrounding your mind because it feels so good.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s groan transforms into a moan once he’s buried all the way into you, hips flush against your ass and spreading you open so wide and so deep, you would think you might break if you didn’t know any better. You gasp, back arching downward as you take your time to adjust to the large intrusion.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses your shoulder tenderly, waiting for you to grow used to the feeling. He can be rough when it comes to bed, but he always is mindful of you no matter how impatient and desperate he is. There’s this soft feeling going on inside you, mixing with your pleasure and it only serves to make you more needy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t move for a while, hot breath falling against your neck as he stands behind you. You feel surrounded — his scent everywhere, the pulse of the hickeys he carved on your skin, the press of his long fingers on your waist —, your submission for Wonwoo’s eyes only.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You nod at him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

A lick at your neck is all the warning you get before Wonwoo pulls out so very slowly, cock dragging against your walls and rim. It feels like forever, you whining at the sensation, and then you’re being slammed back into.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah!” you gasp, eyes blurry as you struggle for air. You moan as Wonwoo drags himself back out again, and thrusts right back in and groans at the feeling. “Y-yes—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So good,” Wonwoo growls, close to inhumane as he continues with that pace. “So fucking good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Eventually, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be able to go slow anymore, thrusts turning sharper and harder, his pace unrelenting. You find yourself almost screaming through it, so overwhelmed by the size of him — a good overwhelmed, the best overwhelmed —, but the way you feel so full and the exponential pleasure leaves you numb to any other thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo, your mind seems to chant, fucked open mercilessly by your boyfriend.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Taking cock like a pro, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Wonwoo says, stops for a second, adjusts his hips, and then slams back right into your sweet spot, like he knows where it is by heart. Your body lurches forward, bed slamming against the wall. Hands reaching to hold onto something, you scramble against the sheats until one of them fists it and the other holds the pillow for dear life. “You’re gonna wake the whole hall, screaming like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You have enough of a decency to feel ashamed about it, but it’s not like neither of you actually care. If anything, Wonwoo fucks you harder, hips jamming inside you until your throat hurts from all the noises you’re making.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please, p-please— I wanna— I h-have to— Fuck, ah!” you’re not even sure about what you’re begging for, Wonwoo pulling your hips to meet his thrusts half way. You love this, feeling like a ragdoll, being thrown around and only able to take what he gives to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Good little girl,” Wonwoo croons, his voice rough. Your skin glistens with sweat, the shimmering red light reflecting on it. “Looking so beautiful taking my cock.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure what compels you after he says that but you reach down, hand smoothing down your abdomen because you feel like Wonwoo is spearing you open. But you go completely tense, squeezing Wonwoo so hard he stutters with a moan, because under your palm there is the outline of his cock protruding against your lower belly. The feeling makes you so overwhelmed that you can’t hold it in, whithe pleasure flooding you as you end up coming, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you’re crying all the way through it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re coming?” Wonwoo deadpans, sounding surprised and angry at the same time. “Holy shit, you’re coming untouched and without my permission? What were you think—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s complaint immediately dies down when you bring a trembling hand to grab his wrist and put his fingers in the cause of your orgasm. There’s a beat of silence, the both of you completely still, and then Wonwoo is growling the most animalistic growl you ever heard him do, the sheer intensity of it rocking all the way to your bones. He presses his hips so tightly into yours it has you sobbing.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” it’s all he says, tone two octaves lower and sounding dangerous, doesn’t even have it in him to punish you. “Fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s like the caged beast he keeps so carefully locked deep within himself started to surface. Wonwoo pushes your head down on the mattress, the other hand still on your belly. He pulls out until the tip and then slams back inside, as hard as he can, and you downright scream at the feeling, the oversensitiviness adding up to your pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s another few seconds of silence, and then Wonwoo is fucking you brutally. His moans echo through the room, so completely desperate that it has you wailing, sobbing, crying desperate pleas for more.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at that,” Wonwoo says, hand pressing harder against the bulge in your stomach. “Pushed my big cock into you until your insides were forced to make room for it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He grabs your arm and yanks you up, your back pressing against his chest and an arm circling around your waist. The other comes up to squeeze your left breast as you practically sit on his thighs. You moan at the feeling of his pierced nipple dragging against your skin every time he fucks up into you, your body only held in place because of the firm grip Wonwoo has on you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Sobbing, you feel like you’re losing yourself in the sensations, Wonwoo’s cock pounding into your cunt and his voice by your ear and the burn of his hips hitting your ass — by now it must be all red, the marks probably going to linger for some time. You can’t hold yourself together anymore, mouth open and drooling, tears clinging to your lashes, staccato moans falling from your lips that break on every thrust. You’re limp against Wonwoo, can’t even fuck back, letting him have his way with you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Drooling all over yourself for my cock,” Wonwoo says, fucks in deep against your sweet spot and mouths at the side of your neck. “Because of me, right? Tell me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you— yours, yours, please,” your head falls back on his shoulder, hand pressing tightly in the shape of his cock in your stomach, and at this point you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’ve broken you in, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And he did, really. He has broken you in, has you crying on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You belong to who?” Wonwoo pressed his hips flush on your ass, grinds hard enough for your body to be sent forward. A short few seconds so you can take a breath — or at least try to. “Hm? Who’s fucking you this good?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, Wonwon, you, please,” you cry out as he starts to fuck you mercilessly again, the brutal pace punching moans out of you. “Ah, ah, ah, p-please, haaah, I’m y-yours— yours, b-belong to, hmmm, to you only, please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echoes, thrusts turning erratic and groans morphing into moans. “Mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I can’t — I’m g-gonna—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come for me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And it’s enough for you. Your muscles tense, toes curling as hot, white pleasure surges through your body and floods you until you fall limp on the bed, hips only up because Wonwoo is holding them tightly. You clench around his cock involuntarily, his groan muffled by your hair and he’s coming, Wonwoo’s cock twitching inside you as thick spurts of come fill you to the brim. They seem to be endless, his spunk filling you up until it’s dripping out and down your thighs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t remember much of what happens later. Your mind spins and then you fall into a most needed slumber.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wake up a bit disoriented, having no idea how much has passed since you fell asleep, but you realise you’re all cleaned up and dressed, head resting in Wonwoo’s — thankfully, for the sake of your precious pussy — clothed chest as he uses his cellphone. He smells clean too, hair still a little bit wet, and you smile thinking that the shower you both took before going to bed was useless.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re up?” comes Wonwoo’s question when he feels your lips moving against him, placing his phone somewhere on the bed and circling his arms around you. You move your head, looking up at him with fondness.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, baby,” you breathe out, reaching to peck him in the lips once. He smiles, that kind of smile that leaves you breathless with love.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, my love,” Wonwoo laughs when you blush at the pet name. It’s so sweet and endearing, you always feel warm whenever he says it. “I see you still get all red when I call you that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up,” you swat at his arm, Wonwoo’s following laugh sounding like the best music you ever heard. “How much did I sleep?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Not much,” he presses you tighter against him. “I think one hour? Something like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you say, legs tangling with his and the smile never leaving your lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course, my love. Always will take care of you,” Wonwoo nuzzles your hair and inhales. “Got kind of surprised that I managed to fuck you into unconsciousness.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you mortify with a laugh, hitting his chest, but he only giggles at you. He giggles. Your heart might explode soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What? Can’t I be happy that I pleasured my tiny girlfriend the way she deserves to?” Wonwoo says, and it sounds like a joke, but when you look up at him again to make a retort, the reverence in his eyes surrenders you speechless.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He stares at you with so much admiration and love, like you’re the most beautiful thing ever.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” you say instead, cheeks hurting from the way you’re smiling, and Wonwoo seems to be caught off guard because he’s blushing. Wonwoo’s blushing. He’s so cute you want to die.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up and go back to sleep,” he coughs, pushing your head against his chest and you laugh at this shyness. “I love you too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Yes. The warmness of his hands, the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the love in his eyes, the sweetness of his words — you missed everything about Jeon Wonwoo.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

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ziee · 3 years

Text

Yb x Reader (Relax)

"Fucking hell.." You rubbed your aching shoulder, wincing as your fingers dug into a knot. Closing the door to your home behind you, you dropped your bag beside your door and headed towards your room.

That was odd.. You were sure you turned the lights off before leaving this morning.. Standing in front of your door, you slowly turned the knob. The door creaked as you pushed it open, stepping inside and looking around.

Looking behind the door, a hand shot out from the shadows and grabbed your arm. You screamed, before looking to the face of your attacker. Your boyfriend. "Peter! Oh my god, don't do that to me." You whined in his arms as he rested his head into the crook of your shoulder. Your back was pressed against his chest as he took in your smell.

"Hah, I'm sorry dear. How was work?" You moved your head around, making him release his hold and pull his head back. Giving him a death glare, he got the message. "Aw, you know, if you just came and lived with me.." He trailed off as you sighed.

"No, I don't want to put you with the responsibility of taking care of us both. Besides, even though it's exhausting working at the diner, I love it." You leaned your head into his chest, feeling his arms wrap around your sweaty back.

"I should have a shower." You mumbled, not really wanting to move anytime soon. He hummed, petting your hair.

"Why don't we have a bath?" He suggested.

"We?" You looked up at him and smirked, understanding his message. He gazed softly down at you.

"I want to make you feel good darling.. And after such a long day, wouldn't a nice bath work wonder?"

"Yeah, 'bath'." You removed yourself from him, grabbing your towel from behind your door. "But sure babe, let's take a bath together."

Once everything had been set up, by mostly Peter. Candles drenched the bathroom sink, as the smell wafted throughout the room. You placed your towel neatly on top of the toilet, as you waited for your boyfriend to join you.

He walked into the room not even a second later, carrying a pink loofa. You must have made a confused face eyeing it because your boyfriend soon explained. "To wash your back." You nodded, smiling as he made such an effort to give you a relaxing evening.

Although you and your boyfriend had undressed in front of each other many times, you were still a little embarrassed. He took off his shirt, motioning you to do the same. Gladly, your shirt was drenched in sweat stains from running around all day. Your pants were no different, dried syrup and milk had been spilled on your clothing more than once.

You threw off your shirt, before bending over and slipping off your pants. He did the same, the both of you now standing in your undergarments. Deciding to be the big girl, you unlatched your bra, breathing in relief as you threw it a little too hard on the floor. Stupid bra.

Your boyfriend watched your performance in amusement, staring directly at your chest. You looked up at him and covered your tits, faking a gasp. You both laugh, easing the slight tension in the room. The both of you then undressed fully.

"Ladies first." He gestured towards the filled bathtub. You nodded and dipped your foot into the water. Warm. Submerging yourself into it, you moaned in pleasure as warmth surrounded your pain-filled body. Your boyfriend followed you in, flinching at the water temperature, but getting in fully after adjusting.

"Mmm.." You tilted your head up, looking at the ceiling as you floated in the water.

"Feel good?" Your boyfriend asked, staring at you with his big, blue eyes. You fought a nod, turning around in the water, then scooting back against his naked chest.

"Now it is." You rested your head against his chest, feeling his deep intakes of breath as he wraps his arms around your stomach. The 2 of you lay in silence.

"Here, let me.." He shifts, pushing you outwards a bit as you let your head tilt forward, your back bending. Lifting his hands up, he sets them on top of your shoulders. Softly, he starts massaging your worn-out skin.

"Oh gooddd, don't stop.." You moan, rolling your head. You could feel his satisfactory grin behind you as he kneads your shoulders, moving down towards your back, rolling the knots out before coming back up.

You sigh as you get pampered. A few minutes pass as he massages you. His hands slowly wander down, as you raise your eyebrow. Softly rubbing your arms, he lowers as he stops at your waist. "Mmm.." You moan out, urging a twitch from a becoming hard phallus under you.

He clutches your breasts in his two hands, sopping them up with water as he rubs your nipples. You slowly turn your waist, grinding against his erection from under the water. "Is this what you meant by bath..?" You whisper out, already feeling a spike of heat in between your thighs as he continues to rub.

"Not in the slightest, but I'm glad it's happening." He nuzzles your neck, flicking your nipples between his fingers as he licks your skin. Opening his jaw wide, without warning, he bites down hard onto you. You squeal, starting to pant from the heat and pain from the bite. Removing his teeth, he licks at the shallow wound as it starts to grow red.

His cock, now standing at full attention, writhed from behind you. You could feel it pressed against your cheeks as you leaned forward. He released your breasts and bent you over, your hands clutching the sides of the tub as your ass rose from the water.

"Ugh- Please hurry and put it in." You mumble, arching your back as you seductively sway your ass back and forth. He watched as your thighs jiggled with your movements, sticking out his long tongue as he licked his dry lips.

You stared ahead, looking at the ground as you eagerly waited for him to fuck you. Hearing small splashes and movements, you jolted as a wet tip came into contact with your soaked lips. And it wasn't just from the water.

"With pleasure, darling." He growled, before thrusting his hips. He slid in easy, and fast. Spreading you, filling you up. Your skin hot as it grows hotter from the activity at hand. You clutch harder onto the porcelain, your knuckles growing white.

"How do you feel love?" His breathy voice runs to your ear, hot pants against your shakey back.

"Ah-.. So good.." Barely needing to talk, you hint at wanting more by pressing yourself into him. He slides further into you, earning a throaty groan from your grey lover. You could feel his cock twitch inside you as he prepares to pull out, only to slam back inside you.

Sweat and water run down your face as you stumble to catch your breath. You gasp, inhaling the hot air from the steam as well as the scent of the ongoing burning candles.

His large hands move onto your back, settling onto the fat that surrounds your pretty little skeleton. Your whines and cries have him thumping against you as if a bunny in heat. He pulls back and forth with such drive. Slapping of skin becomes louder in the small white room.

Your mind goes hazy with lust. The need for more pleasure. Your back arches as he pounds into you, reaching the place that sends sparks down your cunt. You cry as he repeatedly hits your spot, halting at nothing as if your voice falls on deafened ears.

"M-More!" You shout, your head drooping low to the porcelain as your knees grow wobbly. Your boyfriend complies, roughly grabbing into your skin for leverage as he speeds up. How? You don't know, he goes even faster than before.

You choke on your saliva as you drool, trapped in the need to cum and not caring what you looked like. You release onto him, soaking him in your fluids as he continues to rut into you. Like the beast he is, he goes on and on. Torturing you in oversensitivity as tears fall from your eyes.

It was too much, but he intends to give it to you good. And that he does. He grunts, rolling out a low groan as he cums inside your abused hole. Your walls soaked in his liquids, you lean over the tub, wasted as he pulls out. The white mixture drops from his tip and your hole into the water, soiling itself.

Your boyfriend helps clean you up, washing up the sweat and among other things before pulling you from the water. He dries you, helps clothe you, before placing you into bed.

"Did I help you relax?"

"Yes, thank you." You kiss him goodnight.

#your boyfriend #your boyfriend visual game #yourboyfriendgame #yourboyfriend x reader #ybxreader

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bakugostiddies · 3 years

Note

Please god do a villain!au with Todoroki 🧎‍♂️ I usually don't like those but omfg with him it would totally work

Absolutely. This turned into a 4k word fic, but I am too attracted to this man to be ashamed.

Icarus | Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Warnings: eventual smut, temperature play, impact play, kind of dub-con but not really, degradation, praise, villain!au, corruption kink, no gendered terms but reader has a vagina and breasts.

NSFW | 18+

You had fucked up.

The room was dark and dank, eerily quiet save for the sound of your breathing. You looked around frantically, struggling to break loose from the bonds that held you. Shit. Shit. Shit.

As your eyes adjusted, you noted that there was a door ahead of you, a steel one with two deadbolt locks. You could feel a metal chair beneath you, rattling each time you moved even slightly. Your arms and legs were restrained by some sort of extremely strong fabric, but your mouth was unrestricted. Shit. Shit. What was Endeavor going to say? You were still just his sidekick, but this was your first big operation and you blew it completely. He would kill you when you got back, you just knew it. Endeavor took his temper out on you even when you did well, which meant you had no clue what he would do to you after a fuckup this bad. Shit.

Calm down, Y/N, you told yourself mentally. You were safe and unharmed, so maybe they just wanted information. You attempted to activate your teleportation quirk, but it didn’t work. What happened? You could feel yourself beginning to hyperventilate. You didn’t want to die here, after being kidnapped by some asshole who wouldn’t even fight you face to face.

“If you’re wondering why you can’t use your quirk, we just took it away for a while.”

A voice emerged from the shadows of the room, soft and almost velvety. You flinched. You hadn’t even realized someone was here. How could you have missed something so obvious? You felt like a shitty fucking hero.

“Who are you?” You said after a moment.

“Im surprised you didn’t recognize me. Well, I suppose it is a bit dark in here.”

And suddenly with the flick of a match, the voice became a man and the shadows around the room came to life. You swallowed harshly, all of the moisture in your mouth gone. The man stalked towards you with a sureness of a predator and stopped a few feet away from where you were sat in the metal chair. You looked up at his two toned hair, his strong, rugged figure in the flickering light. He wore a suit not too different from that of a hero’s, but he was tinged with scorch marks and small icy spikes. He looked like he was made of fire.

“Well?” He said it softly, but there was a hint of malice in his tone. “Who am I?”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, your body almost paralyzed with fear. You knew who he was, of course you did. He was the one who helped blew up that building on the case you were on a month ago. He was the one who ambushed those (kind of sleazy) businessmen on their way to a cartel. He was the one who’s name was whispered in fear and awe on the nations’ streets. He was standing right in front of you, looking… bored?

The man sighed and fiddled with his match. “Hurry it up, hero, I don’t have all day.”

You spoke almost inaudibly. “You’re Icarus.”

He smiled slightly and a chill ran down your spine.

“See? That wasn’t too hard.”

He moved a bit closer to you and leaned down, his heterochromatic eyes almost level with your own. A single gloved hand moved to touch your chin with his thumb and index finger, moving your head from side to side with a feather-light touch. You hoped he couldn’t feel how scared you were, how your body seethed and rejected his very presence.

He finally released your face and you let out a sigh of relief. Icarus removed a single glove and touched his fingers gently to the match. It went out without smoke or a flicker, just a gentle hiss of frozen silence. The room was dark again, and he was moving, knocking on one of the walls.

“Turn on the lights, Red Riot.”

Your eyes widened. Red Riot? Wasn’t he the pro-hero who became a villain after Dynamight? Holy shit, was Dynamight here? Icarus interrupted your train of thought as the lights flickered on almost menacingly. You noted your surroundings carefully, seeing a bed in the corner, a small table, and another chair. The room looked less like a prison and more like a shitty motel suite.

“Do you know why you’re here?” He sat down in a chair across from you, leaning forward with his arms on his thighs and his legs spread slightly.

“I don’t know, Icarus.”

“Heres a hint; it has something to do with your boss.”

“Endeavor?”

You could feel bile rushing up your throat but you swallowed it down. The man before you clenched his jaw rigidly, as if it pained him to hear the name, but returned to normal so quickly you might have imagined it.

“You’re a bright one. Yes, hero, the very same. And do you have any idea on what he’s planning to do, say, sometime in the next six months?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

His tone was harsher now and he got out of his chair, moving closer to you again. You felt so small under his scrutiny, yet drawn to him like a moth to a flame, like Icarus himself to the sun.

“You see, I’m the only reason you’re alive. And if you want to keep your pretty little head-“ he circled around behind you- “you will listen to what I say.” His voice was barely a whisper in your ear, and your voice hitched in your throat.

“Do you understand?” He asked, straightening up.

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir.”

This was so goddamn humiliating, like your first day working with Endeavor all over again. With him, it was always a yes, sir, no, sir, please don’t make me work weekends, sir. But you swallowed your pride again and spat it out.

“Yes… sir.”

“A hero that obeys commands, what a find,” he said tauntingly. “But you could stand to lose that attitude.”

You wanted to slap him, to beat him up to the point of him being bruised and bloody and broken and then have him call you sir instead. God, if only you could teleport out of these fucking restraints-

“You’re thinking about using your quirk, correct?” It was like the asshole could read your mind.

“You can’t. Aizawa Sensei took yours away. You know him as Eraser-head.”

Fuck, Eraser-head was here too? All of the biggest villains were gathered here together and you- you could do nothing.

“So I’ll ask you again. What are Endeavor’s plans?”

At that moment, you made yourself a promise; that you would not let Icarus win. Little did you know that you would break that promise a thousand times over.

———-

Two days later:

———-

“Did Endeavor tell you about the attacks?”

“No, sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Come on now, you can tell me. I won’t hurt you.”

“...”

“Still no response? No matter, I have time to get it out of you.”

———-

Seven days later:

———-

“Still not talking, hero?

Look at that, the silent treatment.

I never thought an adult could be so petty. Just tell me where I can get more information.

Nothing?

Okay. Eat your soup, I can’t have you dying on me before you start talking.

And hero? You will have to open your mouth sooner or later.”

————

16 days later:

————

“Cut the bullshit, hero. We know he has plans for a big attack sometime during the next six months, so either Deku is wrong, or you are lying to my face. And Deku’s never wrong.”

“Well, I guess he’s wrong this time.”

“Then I guess we’ll return you since this has all just been one big mishap.”

“Really?”

“No. You aren’t the smartest, are you?”

“Maybe my brain will somehow recall something about this totally real attack you think is happening if you give me better food?”

“Don't be a brat, hero. I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble if I had known you would be so inconvenient.”

“Whatever you say, sir.”

————

20 days later:

————

“Thanks for the bread, sir. It's quite an upgrade for a kidnapped person’s shitty meal.”

“You have low standards, hero.”

“Hey, why do you call me that?”

“What, hero?”

“Yeah. I have a name, you know. It's-“

“I know what your name is.”

“Okay, Jeez. If you knew it, then why not use it? Plus, I’m not even a hero yet. I’m still technically just a shitty sidekick who’s totally blown it on my first solo mission. I’m never going to be a pro at this rate, I might as well just give up.”

“I think you’re good.”

“What?”

“I said, you’re powerful and good at using your quirk. You have a lot of assets and it’s a shame your talent is wasted on Endeavor and the fools at the pro-hero agencies. It was difficult to actually catch you off guard, to get past your guards, to make sure your quirk was out of commission. And we are very strong.”

“Oh. Um, thanks, I guess?”

“Don’t thank me, hero. I’m just stating the obvious.”

————

25 days later:

————

“Why is your name Icarus?”

“It's not my real name.”

“Well no shit, dude. I'm asking why you chose it.”

“Icarus was a boy who followed his father’s instructions perfectly, but the moment he strayed from the path set out for him, he was punished, scalded by the flames of the sun, and cast away. But I think it was worth it for him in the end.”

“Why?”

“Because he was free. Because Icarus flew, and he was able to be his own person, even if it was just for a moment.”

“Do you feel like Icarus?”

“Most of the time I do, yes.”

“Sir?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think that right now, you’re flying or cast away?”

“At this very moment, I think I am flying.”

“You know what? I think so too.”

————

29 days later:

————

“So what’s your real name, sir?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why?”

“Classified. Also, I don’t need you to know my name.”

“But you know mine!”

“That's because you’re a prisoner, in case you’ve forgotten. You are almost unnervingly at ease here.”

“I’ve met three people so far and you have all given me no reason to fear.”

“Really? Not even Dynamight?”

“His hair makes me laugh. Plus, I can’t take airheads with overinflated egos seriously.”

“I agree with that assessment wholeheartedly.”

“You agree with my assessment- Sir, you sound like an old man.”

“I’m only three years older than you, you know.”

“Really? But you have all of these wrinkles?”

“I do not have wrinkles.”

“Fine, frown lines then.”

“That makes it sound like I don’t smile.”

“Well, you don’t!”

“It’s hard to find things to smile about.”

“God, you’re such an Edgelord.”

“What do you mean by that? hero, stop laughing.”

“You are definitely an old man.”

————

30 days later:

————

There had been a new development a couple of days ago in the kidnapping situation. You could feel your quirk again, which meant a lot of things. It meant you weren’t here against your will anymore, that you were free to go. Yet you remained. You still stayed in the same room with Icarus checking in on you in the afternoons. However, it had been given furniture- a desk and more comfortable chairs, a small rug on the floor, and thicker blankets. It was almost like you weren’t even a prisoner anymore. You could always leave, you reasoned. You could teleport out of here. Your quirk was back, and yet you stayed.

The other villains had taken a liking to you for reasons beyond your comprehension, but all it meant was that you were never short on company. Dynamight would burst in to complain about how Deku always got the best missions, Red Riot would bring in a deck of cards and the two of you would play go fish or bluff, even Deku would occasionally check up on you and make sure you were comfortable. But your afternoons? They were always set aside for your favorite visitor- Icarus.

...

“You haven’t answered my question about your name yet.”

You were sitting on the cot in your almost room, feet dangling off the edge and swinging back and forth. Icarus was sitting on his chair again, but lazily, with his arms locked behind his head and his legs precariously balanced against the edge of the bed.

“You haven’t answered any of my questions since you got here, so I don’t believe you have a right to complain.”

He was right, of course. He always was. But technically, he was equally at fault in this case. He was the one who sucked at interrogation, so much so that you took pity on his colleagues. They would have to deal with his lack of results.

You weren’t complaining, however. You enjoyed talking to him, looking at him, being in his presence. It was a stupid crush to have, but you didn’t care. He was beautiful to look at, the way his biceps curled behind his head, the lean toughness of his body, the sheer strength he possessed. Your eyes trailed down his sprawling figure, tracing each indent and dip and curve of his skin in your mind.

“Are you finished staring at me?” His words jerked you out of your stupor and you felt heat rushing to your cheeks.

“I-I wasn’t- I didn’t-“ you babbled until he stopped you.

“Don’t worry, it’s only natural to find me… appealing. You haven’t spent time with anyone else for a very long time.”

You almost screamed on the spot, burying your face in your hands. You peeked out between your splayed fingers to look at him, seemingly unbothered save for the slight pink tinge hidden beneath his bangs.

“How can you say things like that, sir?”

“Like what?”

“Uhm, never mind.”

You wanted the ground to swallow you up whole. He was so, so dense, it was a wonder he even noticed you basically eye-fucking him. You felt the cot creak beside you and a slight dip in the weight. Icarus had seated himself beside you on the small bed and was looking at you with eyes full of concern.

“I did not mean to shame you for your gaze, hero.”

He said it gently and kindly. It would be almost romantic if not for the situation you were in. You remained silent, so he continued.

“I believe it is normal for you to feel this way towards someone who has been in such close quarters with you for so long a time. You should be glad that you still have these urges.”

You suppressed a groan. This felt like having the sex talk with your parents all over again. “Sir-“

“-in fact, everyone feels them!”

He was rambling, oh god you needed him to shut up-

“I feel them for you all the time, and I’m completely normal.”

And suddenly, the air changed between you into something charged and heated.

“You… have urges around me?” You wanted to hear him say it again, just once, but he turned away from you, tensing up and rising from his seat awkwardly. His face was stony and his hair covered his eyes like bicolored curtains. There suddenly was space between the two of you, some insurmountable gap that could not be bridged.

“I apologize deeply. I have misspoken.”

“Sir, wait, you don’t have to leave!” You cried out as he made his way to the door.

“But I do. You don’t deserve this treatment, and it is cruel of me to hurt you in this manner.”

And that was when something broke within you, something that had been holding you together this whole time.

“No.”

He turned around, almost scared by the anger in your voice.

“This is when you decide to stop? You have literally kidnapped me, interrogated me, left me in all but isolation, for a fucking month. You took me from everything that I wanted and everyone that I love and yet, and YET, I wanted you. Goddamn it, I still want you. I don’t understand why. So don’t apologize to me for misleading me or whatever bullshit excuse you’ve decided to use as a sheild. Apologize for everything you have done to me, you fucking cunt.”

And then your voice broke and you could feel the tears rushing to your eyes, your vision turning glassy as your chest heaved with sobs. You could feel yourself slipping away, your breaths growing shallow and your body shaking. Why did you stay here? Why didn’t you leave when you could? What was the point, if Icarus didn’t even want you?

And then, suddenly, you felt warm.

Icarus, sir, whoever the fuck he was, was holding you tightly in his arms, head dipped down into the crook of your neck, his arms enveloping you in his warmth. He was your sun. And he could scorch you again and again but you would still be drawn to him.

Your panic died down and you wept for the first time since you arrived. The two of you sank down to the floor, his apologies muttered swiftly and quietly against your skin. You were in his lap now, your body curled up into a ball in his embrace, one of his palms cupping your face. He turned you slightly towards him.

His eyes were wet too, but only slightly, and his fingers were thumbing at the tears on your cheeks. One of them got close to the corner of your mouth and slowly but surely, with almost childlike fascination, he pushed the tip of it in. Your tongue ran along the edges of it, the salty taste leaving you wanting more.

And slowly, Icarus leaned forward, his lovely face the closest you had ever been to him. He removed his finger from your mouth and kissed you instead, gently, and then all at once.

It was a furious kiss, on that burned and heated a cold room. You could feel teeth and tongue and hot tears, a clashing finale of a kiss. It was against your lips that he murmured his name.

“My name is Todoroki Shouto.”

He said it softly, leaving your lips to place open-mouthed kisses on your neck that left you moaning and had wetness pooling between your legs. But suddenly, your eyes snapped open.

“Todoroki? As in-“

He kissed you again to silence as you felt the questions racing through your head. Endeavor was Todoroki Enji, right? But he had never mentioned having kids to you? Was Shouto lying to you? Why did he want to destroy his father? And how were you-

“Shh.” Shouto tapped his forehead to yours. “Let me take care of you.”

Fuck it. The questions could wait.

Shouto reached down to pull off your shirt and groaned at the sight of you. He looked at you in wonder.

“You- hero, you make me feel like I’m on fire.” He said it with such sincerity that you nearly cried again were it not for his palming of your breasts, his burning fingertips tweaking your nipples and making you whimper slightly.

“I am so sorry. I’m sorry for everything I put you through-“ you were placed on the bed- “I’m sorry for taking you away-“ He was kneeling, fucking kneeling, between your legs- “but most of all-“ fuck, he placed hot kisses on your stomach as he pulled your pants down-

“I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to do this sooner.”

And with that, his tongue was lapping at you through your panties, new ones that the villains had provided for you, with reckless abandon. Your hands tugged at his hair and you heard his hum of a chuckle as a vibration on your pussy. There was pressure, so much pressure from him against you, like nothing you had felt before, and when he finally pushed your panties aside, they were soaking wet.

Shouto looked up at you for a moment, meeting your gaze with his own, eyes sparkling with desire. And then, without a word, He pressed a small kiss to your clit that had you jolt slightly before he dove in. He had you moaning within seconds, his tongue lapping at your folds before swirling around your clit. You felt yourself reaching a climax- it was too good and too fast and too much and- Shouto pushed a finger inside you and crooked it slightly and you began humping your hips upwards as he nursed at your clit. Your climax was swift and powerful, but he didn’t move throughout it. Even as you came down from your high, his mouth planted on you and his finger gently pumped in and out. Shouto added one more easily, and you swore you saw stars when he began thrusting. He fucked you with his fingers, marveling at your reactions, the sounds you made, your pussy pulling him in.

“Fuck, hero, you’re so wet. Is this all for me? Have you gotten off to me fucking you like this in this bed?”

You moaned loudly and Shouto removed his fingers, leaving you feeling empty. There was a dark look in his eyes that you remembered from the first day you arrived.

“Answer me, hero.”

You nodded your head slightly, but that wasn’t enough for him. He rose to his feet and without warning, he smacked your clit. You squealed loudly from the stimulation, the pain turning into pleasure quickly. His palm was cold as ice, and you squirmed dumbly against his touch.

“Answer the question.”

“Yes, yes, sir, I’ve thought about you fucking me everywhere in this room-“

Shouto’s palm reverted back to his normal temperature and you sighed with relief as he cupped your pussy and rubbed it gently.

“What a good, slutty, hero. Have you touched yourself when you think about me?”

You blushed slightly and hid your face behind your hands. God, this was embarrassing. Of course you had gotten off to the thought of him, but to say it out loud was a different feeling altogether.

You took too long and Shouto spanked your clit again. You let out a shriek and tried to wriggle away from him, but he just pulled you closer.

“I want to see your face, doll.” You whimpered at the new pet name. “Now, have you touched yourself when you think about me?”

“Y-yes sir-”

“Y-yes s-sir-‘ so shy for someone who wants a villain to fuck your hero pussy into behaving.” he palmed himself over his trousers, letting out a little huff of pleasure. “I want to, shit, want to fucking ruin you.”

Shouto pulled you to him as your hips thrust desperately against the air.

“Yes sir! Want you to fuck me, want you inside me-“

He groaned and humped into you, the metal of his belt buckle catching against your clit and making you flinch with overstimulation. Shouto noticed and pulled you closer as he stood at the side of the bed, your back flat against the mattress and your hips arched upwards to meet his bulge. He rutted into you again, forcing your pussy to kiss the metal of the buckle once more. You felt your body seizing up, your orgasm building inside you, and Shouto, with a sadistic gleam in his eyes, pressed his buckle harder against you.

The longer it stayed there, the more it heated up, almost more pain than pleasure, until Shouto wrapped your legs around his waist and thrust against you. There was a wet patch on his pants and you kept shrinking away from the burning hot metal that teased at your clit.

“You have no idea what you do to me, fucking hell-” He managed to spit out, “I’m not even inside you and you’re dripping all over me like a bitch in heat-”

He continued to hump you roughly, each time more forceful than the last until you came loudly as Shouto pushed your body into the belt buckle. “No more, Shouto, please, no more- its too much-”

“Too much for you already, hero? I haven’t even come yet. And you- how many times have you reached your climax today?”

You almost screamed with frustration- how were you supposed to know, you didn't fucking keep track-

“I can tell you, brat.” He grabbed your waist and flipped you easily onto your stomach. You were completely exposed to him now, unable to see his face, out of control entirely.

“You have come three fucking times. That doesn’t feel very fair to me, does it? Do you want my cum inside you?”

You buried your face into your pillow, and he pushed down slightly on your lower back, creating an arch. You startled when he teased his cockhead against the surface of your pussy, wetness coating his dick.

“Shouto, I want your cum-”

His palm came down hard on your asscheek, forcing a gasp out of you as he rubbed it softly with his palms. He leaned closer towards you, his voice whispering in your ear.

“Then beg.”

And, with your voice muffled by the pillow, you followed his orders.

“Sir, fuck me, please, please- I need you inside me, I need you to cum for me, please- Shouto, Daddy-“

Your begging got cut off by him thrusting into you. You screamed and he shushed you gently, holding your hand with his own. “Do you think you can take the rest of it?”

The rest of it? There was more? You looked over your shoulder and nearly passed out. You had barely taken half of his length and you were already completely filled up. But… you wanted to feel him, all of him, so you muttered a soft “yes.”

“Okay, baby, take it easy…” he eased a couple more inches into you before you tightened up, your pussy clenching and back arching as he slid in. “Oh fuck,” Shouto groaned. “Do that one more time and I won’t be able to hold back.”

And of course, you grinned. And proceeded to clench yourself around his length again.

Shouto nearly growled. “I warned you, hero.”

And then, he thrust into you. Hard. And he kept going, pumping in and out of your body like a machine, his thumb rubbing against your clit and his other hand on your leg. You are screaming and crying and babbling on about how good his cock is, how good you felt, how this is what you wanted. And Shouto? The cocky bastard was gloating.

“Look at you, such a good slut on my cock. Are you crying? God, thats so fucking hot. I’ve got a cute little hero crying on my dick. I know you can use your quirk now, Hero, I know Aizawa sensei returned it to you. Did you stay because you wanted me to fuck you like this? Did you want to be corrupted?”

“Yes,” you’re almost incoherent, “yes, ruin me, make me a villain, I wanna be a villain!”

Shouto slows his pace for a moment. “You would leave Endeavor? Leave the agency?”

“Yes, I would, Shouto, fuck, anything for you-”

He slapped the inside of your thigh before resuming his pace again. You had never felt so full before, his dick reaching places within you that you didn’t even know existed. His palms gripped the sides of your hips so tightly you thought you might bruise, tiny burn marks already forming in the place of his fingertips. You were close, so close, your tears and drool spilling over your pillow and your body limp and helpless before him. Shouto felt you clenching around him, completely spent.

“Do you want to cum again? What a greedy pussy you have, hero, a needy little cumdump.”

You couldnt get words out, croaking out your mumbled yeses and nodding your head vigorously. He pounded even harder into you and reached around your thighs to your clit, rubbing it in tiny circles as he fucked you. You could feel your climax building for the fourth time and you twitched pathetically beneath him. Finally, Shouto pinched your clit slightly and you came with a wail of his name.

He fucked you through your orgasm, but he was slower now, his strokes hitting you deeper than before.

“Do, fuck- do you want me to cum in your pretty pussy?”

Shouto was hunched over you, his head resting on your back and his arms caging you in so that he was all that surrounded you. His breath came out in cold pants and his thrusts got more and more erratic as he neared his own climax.

“Please, I need you to want this, I need you- shit, I...” You could hear the desperation in his voice, how he yearned for you, and you the words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.

“Yes, Daddy! Want you to come inside, fucking breed me-”

“Oh fuck, Y/n-”

And then Shouto came with a groan, his cum splattering your insides with warmth. He pressed kisses to your spine, trailing his fingers down your arms as he turned you to the side. He didn’t pull out of you as he did so, causing you to groan slightly. Finally, he released you and gently removed his dick from where you were connected. Some of his cum oozed out and he pushed it back in with his fingers, trapping his seed within you forever.

The pair of you laid together side by side for a moment, Shouto’s fingers tracing your body with slow, lingering touches as if he was afraid you would shatter the moment he pressed too hard.

You were the one who broke the silence. “ You said my real name.”

“I did. I love your name, Y/n. It just felt... wrong to say it when you were my prisoner. It was easier to distance myself from you if I just thought of you as a random hero. But you’re more than that now.”

You stared straight into his eyes, your hands reaching up to run gently through his silky hair. “I’m not leaving, Shouto. I’m never leaving this place. And I’m not just staying for you- I like it here. The villains like me, and they respect me. You aren’t bad people- if anything, the rest of the world has been far worse than anything or anyone I’ve faced here. It feels like I’m finally home.”

Shouto gathered you into his arms and pressed you tightly to his side. “You will be mine now,” he said almost matter-of-factly.

“And you will be mine as well.” You planted a small kiss to his nose that made his eyelids flutter and a slight blush crawl onto his cheeks.

“You deserve the world, Y/n,” he said hesitantly. “And I am not even close to being good enough for you.”

Shouto’s eyes were downcast and you could see the doubt creeping in. You gently pressed your fingers to his furrowed brows and soothed the wrinkles away. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” He asked.

“Put yourself down. You are more than enough for me. And Shouto? I don’t need the world. I already reached my sun.”

He smiled at you then, with no underlying malice, no undertone of darkness. It was blinding. Goddamn it, you would do anything to see that smile for the rest of your life.

“That was terribly cheesy, Y/n.”

“Shut up, Shouto.”

He kissed you, and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach fluttering up a storm. Todoroki Shouto was your sun, and you were his. And even if you both melted away under your flames, it would have been worth the loss.

-Bonus-

2 weeks later:

“So, uhm, Y/n, Todoroki, we were reviewing the footage from Y/n’s old room the other day. While we’re all happy you two are *ahem* together now, maybe you can display your... appreciation for one another in a more private place?” Kirishima was blushing profusely and refused to meet your eyes. Suddenly, it clicked for you.

“WE WERE BEING RECORDED?”

“And?”

“SHOUTO!”

“Ah yes, how horrible and violating, I feel as though I have been exposed indecently without my permission for the perverted public to see. They will be unable to contain themselves when faced with my immeasurably sexy figure.”

“You are NOT being helpful.”

“I beg to differ, Y/n. Kirishima, is there any way you can send me a copy of the tape-”

-----------

A/N: I hope you like this and please let me know if I should do a villain!UA series because I only write under the influence of peer pressure.

#todoroki x you #shouto smut #mha smut #shouto x y/n #shouto x reader #villain!shouto #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #bnha smut #bnha fluff #mha imagines #bnha imagines #shouto fluff #shouto angst #nee talks

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malfoysstilinski · 3 years

Text

the rose garden | DRACO MALFOY (SMUT)

MASTERLIST

Draco Malfoy x Reader

SUMMARY: Draco fucks Y/N in his mother’s rose garden.

REQUESTED by anonymous “Could I request were draco and his girlfriend has been together for a year or 2 and their parents are really good friends. Y\Ns parents are also death eaters. And y/n is slytherin. It would be their 5th or 6th yr? Preferably a smut?”

WARNINGS: smut, public sex, extreme dirty talk, slut shaming, blowjobs, face fucking, fingering, riding

Hogwarts was out of session for the summer, and due to students living all across the United Kingdom and Ireland, it meant a lot people didn’t see their significant others for a long two months or so. However, fortunately, that was not the case for you and Draco.

You didn’t live far from each other and your parents were all friends-- they had been since before you and Draco were even born. They had been loyal followers of Lord Voldemort and passed them down to the two of you even after he was gone.

Whilst you questioned some things, you never said it out loud, and neither did Draco, allowing your parents to think that the two of your were perfect for each other. It was probably one of the only things that they were right about.

You and Draco had taken the Hogwarts Express together, you’d been sorted into Slytherin one after the other, you had all of the same friends-- Blaise, Pansy, Theodore, Daphne, Crabbe, Goyle-- and during your fourth year, after dancing with each other all night at the Yule Ball, you’d kissed and realised that maybe what you had had been more than a friendship this entire time.

For nearly two years now, you and Draco had been dating. Despite being such a dick to everybody else, Draco treated you exactly how you deserved to be treated-- like a real princess. In his eyes, you were a princess. The most beautiful of them all. Especially around your parents, who adored him as much as his parents adored you.

Currently, you sat beside each other at the Malfoy’s dining table, Lucius and Narcissa sat at the heads of the table whilst your parents sat opposite the two of you. A starter of some sort of soup was in front of you and you took small spoonfuls delicately, portraying the table etiquette that you’d learnt before you could even spell properly.

“Y/N, how was your fifth year?” Narcissa asks softly once the conversation changes from your father’s business to the new Potions teacher Hogwarts was supposedly getting next year.

You smile politely as you glance up at your boyfriend’s mother. You’d always liked Narcissa, she was the more loving of Draco’s parents and you could tell that she genuinely cared about Draco. You were sure Lucius did too, but the blond-haired man often refused to show emotion which you knew took a toll on Draco growing up.

“It was great, thank you, Mrs Malfoy,” you say, “I spent a lot of it studying for my O.W.Ls, which went well.”

“That’s great, Y/N,” Narcissa smiles back.

The rest of dinner seems to go by swimmingly, your parents mainly talking to each other but making small talk with the two of you as well. You’d all known each other all your lives, so it wasn’t really awkward at all. You’re finishing off the last of your drink when you feel a palm touch your thigh.

You know better than to react.

Draco’s cold hand smooths up and down your soft skin whilst he talks with your father and his father about something to do with the Ministry, your mothers both engrossed in Narcissa’s latest additions to her personal garden. Your father makes a joke that has Lucius laughing and Draco chuckling politely, your mouth absentmindedly forcing a small smile to act like you were listening, but all you can focus on is Draco’s hand.

He’s such an asshole.

You nearly shiver in delight as his slender fingers trace up and down your leg, growing warmer the longer they resided there. However, when you feel the pad of his index finger make contact with your sex, sliding underneath the thong that you’re wearing tonight, you purse your lips and grip the table, shocked.

He swipes his finger through your folds, gathering up the arousal that’s already there and swiping it across your clit. He starts to rub at it agonisingly slow, making you bite down on your lips lightly. You grab your drink and lift it to your lips to distract yourself, but you choke slightly on it when Draco rubs it at the perfect pace, spikes of arousal coursing through you and dampening your panties even more.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Narcissa asks worriedly, “You’re looking rather flushed.”

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, forcing yet another smile. “I’m just feeling rather... hot, that’s all.”

“If you would like, you and Draco could step outside for some fresh air before desert is served?” Narcissa offers, her face brightening, “Oh, Draco, you can show Y/N the new roses I put in the garden.”

“They’re all the way at the back, mother,” Draco began to complain, before something mischievous flashed in his silver eyes, “Oh, well I suppose it’s only polite I do so. Come, Y/N.”

He retracts his hand from your leg and stands, offering it to you. You send a weak smile to Narcissa and take his hand, your mothers cooing happily as Draco leads you out of the dreary dining room. As soon as you’re out into the fresh air, you shove Draco with a small glare.

“You dick!” You grumble at him, “Look, in the common room is one bloody thing, but in front of our parents? Merlin, Draco! If I got off in front of my father I would never be able to look him in the eye again. Especially if we had been caught!”

“But you liked it really, didn’t you, my little slut?” Draco growls, turning and grabbing your jaw with his slender fingers. “You love it when I get you off in front of people. Your cunt aches at the thought of nobody knowing what’s going on beneath the table.”

You whimper at his words, reaching up and placing your hand on his wrist. Draco smirks and looks back at the house.

“Come on then, Y/N,” Draco drawls, “Since you made such a fuss, I guess I must show you the rose garden now. Such a brat...”

Draco never talks to you like this in normal day circumstances, so you know what’s coming. This is foreplay for the way he’s probably about to bend you over and fuck you outside the house your parents are currently sat inside.

You can’t wait.

You feel yourself grow slick at the thought, slightly dampening your thighs as he sends you a look and jerks his head, gesturing for you to go up the path first. As soon as you’re in front of him, you feel his large hand smack against your ass, making you jump a little.

He grabs your arms from behind, forcing you against his front and pressing his lips to your ear. You can feel his erection pressing against your back.

“Be a good girl,” he hisses, his breath smelling faintly like the alcohol he’d been drinking with his dinner.

You make it towards the end of the garden and Draco whirls you around before dropping down onto his mother’s favourite bench. The seating was wooden, however, the arm wrests were dark green serpents, Draco’s hand curling around them as he parted his legs wide.

His silver eyes glinted with mischief, daring you to come closer.

“Draco,” you breathe.

“Come on, princess,” Draco unbuttons the top of his trousers. “On your knees. Show me how much you want me.”

Without thinking much at all, your brain foggy with arousal, you drop down onto your knees in front of the bench, unzipping Draco’s smart trousers. He sits up a little to help you drag them down his thighs. You reach to pull at the waistband of his underwear, pulling it back an inch and then letting it go so it snapped lightly against his erection.

Draco hisses in a mixture of pain and pleasure and grabs your wrist, glaring down at you.

“Enough,” Draco snaps, “Put your lips where they belong, slut. Around my fucking cock.”

You nearly moan out loud at his words, this time actually peeling his underwear down so that his erection sprung out the top. It was red and angry, the vein along the shaft practically pulsing beneath your gaze as precum made itself present at his tip.

You lean up further on your knees, one hand on his thigh and the other moving out to gently grasp his dick. Draco groans under his breath, eyes focused on you as you jerk slowly up and down his length, your thumb gliding out to swipe the precum off. Draco relaxes further against the bench, a drowsy smirk crossing his face when you lean forward and take him in your mouth.

“Good little slut...” he drawls, his lanky hand reaching out to run through his hair, tugging at it slightly when you suck your cheeks in, making your mouth feel so much tighter around him. “Fuck, Y/N. So fucking good for me. Best cock sucker there is.”

You moan around his cock, your hand moving to jerk off the part that you couldn’t quite reach with your mouth. Your tongue runs up and down him, feeling his vein and making its way up to the tip where you give it kitten licks.

“Mm, stop teasing,” Draco grunts, his other hand moving out to grab your head.

He keeps your head still and you know what’s coming. Slowly, he begins to thrust his hips, driving his cock in and out of your mouth so that his tip hits the back of your throat every now and then. You make slight gagging sounds, your eyes watering as spit coats his length. Draco loves the sight, he wishes he could take a picture.

He stops thrusting his hips, finding it tiresome from his position sat down, and instead uses your head like you’re a toy, forcing you up and down his cock. You moan, hands grabbing his thighs, focusing on breathing in and out of your nose.

Before he can cum, he pulls you off of him abruptly, a string of spit joining your lips and the tip of his cock. Draco smirks and brushes your lips with his thumb.

“My beautiful little cock slut,” he mutters, sitting further back against the bench. “I think that you’ve deserved some fun of your own, don’t you?”

“Yes, Draco,” you pant, nodding. “Please.”

“Since you asked so politely.”

Draco reaches forwards, hands on your waist as he tugs you towards him. You fall so that you’re straddling his body on top of the bench, out in the open where anybody could see you. He tugs up your tight dress and grabs at your ass, squeezing it and leaning forward to lick a stripe up your cleavage which is on show from your dress.

You can feel his cock brushing against your soaking heat. Your clit is throbbing so bad it nearly hurts, whines leaving your lips as Draco grabs the thin straps of your green bodycon dress and tugs them down, revealing your breasts to him. As his mouth dives forward to grab one of your nipples in his mouth, you can’t help but lower your body, grinding down against his hard cock and making him groan against you, vibrations running through your body.

“You’re soaked,” he mutters, pulling away once he had left a hickey on your breast where it wouldn’t be seen in your dress. “Such a fucking slut. You get off letting me fuck your face, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you’re too aroused to really know what you’re agreeing to. All you know is that you need Draco to do something before you explode. “Please.”

“Please what? Use your words.”

“Please fuck me, Draco,” you beg him, “please make me cum.”

Draco smirks and reaches to grab your waist harder. You lift up on your knees more and watch as one of his hands disappears between you both. You feel the tip of his dick brush against your eager folds and you whine even louder, biting you lip and nodding at him quickly.

“Please, please, please.”

Draco guides it through your soaked sex before he finds your hole and takes one more look at you. The nod of consent is all he needs before he plunges himself into you. You both moan, breaths hitching in your throat. As you slide down so that you’re sat on his lap, his cock buried balls deep inside your pulsating heat, you feel so full, like if you were to put your hand against your stomach then you would feel him there.

“So fucking tight,” Draco hisses between gritted teeth. “Come on, slut. Ride me.”

You obey his command, growing slicker at his choice of nickname for you. Your hands move to his shoulders and you use them to help you bounce up and down on top of him, inches slipping out before being forced all the way back inside you, hitting spots that you didn’t know existed.

Draco was panting slightly beneath you, his silver eyes flickering from where he could see his cock coming in and out of your pussy, slick with your arousal, and up to your face where your head was thrown back in pleasure as you whined and moaned.

“So beautiful.” He reaches up and grabs your neck. “Look at me.”

You listen to him, feeling his fingers tighten around your neck and slightly blocking your airway. You feel lightheaded in the best possible way, eyes fluttering and your walls pulsating more around his cock as it drives in and out of you. Draco realises you’re starting to feel hazy and starts using his hips so he can pound up into you harder.

The sounds of your bodies colliding and your soaked pussy that normally embarrass you but turn Draco on don’t humiliate you today. You’re too focused on the grip he has on your neck and the way he keeps his pace thrusting in and out of you-- like it’s his only purpose in life. You know you’re going to cum soon.

Draco’s face dives forwards and nuzzles back to your breasts that are bouncing right in front of him. He licks and sucks and bites anything he can, his hot breath fanning your skin and making you cry out.

“Draco,” you cry.

“That’s it,” Draco grunts, forcing a few extra hard thrusts. “That’s it, Y/N. Fucking slut. You’d let me do anything to you. Such a fucking whore.”

You can tell that he’s close from how his hand has moved from your neck to your clit. His fingers create hard figures of eights against your throbbing bud, coating his digits in your arousal. You moan louder, this time driving your hips up harder and faster to keep up with his thrusts.

“Come on, Y/N,” Draco hisses, “you gotta cum for me. Cum all over my cock.”

His words are enough to send you toppling over the edge, your loudest moan yet half-buried by your teeth sinking into Draco’s shirt-clad shoulders. Your walls clench and shudder around him, tightening against his cock and causing his eyes to scrunch shut. Your breathless whisper of his name once your orgasm rolls by has him cumming straight after you. His hot seed shoots up inside in spurts, coating your walls and making you whine out against him again. He thrusts a couple of more times before he pulls out.

“Mm, Dra- Draco,” you mutter as he pulls you off of him and pulls the top of your dress back up.

Draco chuckles as he fixes his own underwear and trousers, pulling your dress down for you as you slide your panties back up. He presses a loving kiss to your lips.

“Not too much, was it?” Draco asks worriedly.

“No, that was perfect,” you admit, stroking some of his hair back into place.

“Good. I agree. Now, let’s get back to our parents. Desert must be ready soon.”

my mum came extremely close to catching me write this so i hope it was worth it honestly

#draco malfoy #draco #malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy lemon #draco smut #draco lemon #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #harry potter smut #harry potter imagine #draco malfoy fanfic #draco malfoy fanfiction

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lepusrufus · 3 years

Text

To bargain for immortality pt.1

It's here fellas, the mutation sequel that I've mercilessly teased you with!

Content warnings: gore, torture, blood (like... lots), just a bunch of puking up blood, Miranda being her usual mad scientist self, torture in the name of science, Nicole be sick af (both literally and of crow mommy's bullshit), a little bit of blood drinking as a treat, medical procedures.

////

Tic toc tic toc

God that clock is so annoying.

Nicole wasn’t nervous. No. She chose this, at least for the most part. She had a long conversation with all her family, Alcina and Esteria both assuring her that it would work. It’s been years since the beginning of the experiments and by this point the process was almost perfected.

Miranda knew what she was doing.

That mattered little to her nerves though.

She instinctively pushed herself further into Cassandra’s side, who’s grip around her waist tightened ever so slightly.

The waiting was downright tortuous.

She, along with Cassandra and her two sisters were in her infirmary. The room mixed the ancient decor of the castle with modern medical equipment in a beautiful way. Not that anything less would be acceptable. Not that the familiarity of her workspace brought her any comfort either.

All their eyes snapped in the direction of the door when a heavy set of footsteps, with two lighter ones, were heard down the hallway outside. Soon the door opened with a barely audible creak and the two matriarchs entered, followed suit by Mother Miranda. Her presence alone was enough to make Nicole’s breath get lost somewhere in her throat, on its way to an exhale. The black wings, even partially folded as they were, did their job of making her look so much more intimidating than she was. Not that she needed them to begin with, a look from those icy gray eyes more than enough to send anyone to their knees.

Mother Miranda was, in all ways that mattered, a goddess.

A goddess that was about to infect her with the same thing that failed countless times in the past. The same thing that made the crawling mindless beasts used as guard dogs in the undergrounds. Or that made all the lycans.

Nicole gulped, a gesture gone thankfully unnoticed to anyone other than her painfully dry mouth.

But Miranda didn’t spare her a glance. She simply busied herself with some tools she had brought on one of the metal tables. With each clink the room seemed to close in on her slightly more, until Nicole felt as if she somehow ended up in one of Heisenberg's death traps. Spikes moving closer and closer until they would pierce her body and leave her in a messy pool of blood and entrails.

She shook her head and took a long inhale. No. This was going to work. She was not about to lose her family over a pesky thing such as mortality. She was not about to lose Cassandra. If getting infected by the Cadou was what it took to spend eternity with her lover then so be it. Possible side effects be damned.

Mother Miranda finally seemed to have finished, a now empty flask labeled Cadou sitting on the desk behind her while the parasite was writhing in her hand, thin whip-like tentacles extending frantically around itself. She called her over with a nod, and with a deep breath and a parting hand squeeze from Cassandra, Nicole forced her legs to take her across the room. Her steps didn't waver, she'd be damned if she'd show any hesitancy in front of this.

"Shall we begin."

It wasn't a question really, merely veiled impatience. Miranda did not like her, plain and simple. The fact that she was there to begin with was already a miracle. Miracle that wouldn't have happened were it not for the Ladies themselves asking for it.

"Yes of c-"

Before her words even had time to completely slip out of her mouth, golden talons plunged into the base of her sternum.

"Hopefully this can teach you that I don't like people going behind my back."

Nicole let out a choked gasp, hands instinctively wrapping around Miranda's arm, weakly grabbing at black robes. Ironically enough, those very talons were keeping her upright and, when they were removed from her flesh with a disgusting squelch of blood, Nicole curled in on herself, falling to her knees.

"Wha-... cking ki-... -er!"

Cassandra's voice reached her ears broken up, barely passing through the deafening ringing. Miranda also gave a reply and then seemed to address someone else but her much calmer tone meant that it only sounded like a vague mumble.

Not that Nicole particularly cared at the moment.

She curled into a ball, her hands almost clawing at her chest trying to find some sort of relief. It seemed as if vicious tendrils were making their way into every vein and muscle, tearing their way through any tissue they found. Her chest felt as if it had a hot iron pressed directly onto the skin, searing pain radiating in a cruel pulse matching her frantic heartbeat. By that point she was either sobbing or heaving, something that involved shallow breaths for sure. Her lungs were protesting fiercely, emptying of oxygen and then refusing to refill if not with great strain.

To make everything worse, the pain seemed to shift, now engulfing her spine and sending jolts that made her head spin and want to throw up despite her jaws being clenched shut so tightly that she was sure she'd start to taste copper soon.

She was only vaguely aware of hands shifting her body and soothing words that fell on deaf ears. She was now on a softer surface, but that did nothing to alleviate the assault on each of her senses. Probably she had thrown up at a certain point as her sinuses felt like being scraped by sandpaper with each shuddering breath. Her mouth too had a lingering taste of both bile and blood that made her stomach turn all over again. She would give anything for her body to finally shut down.

Why was she still awake and conscious god damn it. There was only so much her body was supposed to take before the brain shut down and she was reaching her limit of how much agony she could endure at a moment.

Please please please just pass out please.

She didn't though. Her body seemingly deciding to feel every single bit of the infection process, complete with the unending waves of pain and nausea that hit her more than she wanted to count. Any bit of sanity left in her would've probably disappeared had she tried.

---

It took two days for the agonizing pain to subside. Another two for Nicole to be able to form any kind of coherent sentence. Cassandra's soothing voice was of immense comfort, always there to tell her how well she was doing and how it would all be better soon.

God she hoped.

On the fifth day, her stomach still lurched at any movement too sudden. Her lungs seemed to fill with blood, courtesy of the still gaping wound at the bottom of her sternum, with any inhale too deep. The fact that she got used to the coppery taste rising up in her throat was disgusting in and of itself. At least there weren't jolts of pain shooting through every nerve and muscle in waves anymore though. That was something.

The fog in her brain was still clearing. It was hard to focus on anything, and each time Cassandra, or anyone else, asked her a question they would have to repeat it at least three times. It was beyond frustrating, the mind that got her through med school drunk half the time was failing the insurmountable task of saying whether or not she'd like some water. Glorious.

A faint knock on the door reached her ears. A redundant gesture really, as she didn't exactly have the clarity of mind to answer. Besides it was hard to catch her in a more compromising state than curled up in the fetal position, covered in sweat and most likely blood clots stuck to her lips.

Esteria came in, her one blue eye that wasn't covered looking at her with all the gentleness neither of her parents had ever offered her. Or it was just the cruel trick of a delirious brain. Either way, light barefoot steps took the Mistress to her bed. She sat in the chair adjacent to it and, with taloned fingers brushing strands of auburn hair out of Nicole's face, she spoke softly.

"How are you feeling today?"

Her voice was just as melodious as ever. It was the voice one imagines they would hear from an ancient being found deep in the forest. It made Nicole just a tad guilty when the only answer she could give was a pathetic whine.

Esteria simply hummed, talons running through the long messy locks of hair sprawled on the sheets.

"Would you like me to braid this for you dear?"

Nicole frowned. The Mistress was an expert at braiding, quick fingers able to make beautiful designs, both simple and complex. Comes with having floor length hair, her hazy mind guessed. On any normal day, Nicole would've accepted without a second thought. But now? Now she was painfully aware of the state she was currently in.

"It's filthy," she croaked, her voice raw and like stones in her mouth.

And it was. Her hair was waist length and right now it was slowly becoming a curse. It was greasy and sweaty thanks to barely being able to move a limb for nearly a week, which meant no showers. Not to mention how she lost count of the times she bent down to empty the contents of her stomach into a bucket, only to have some rebel locks fall in her face and get subsequently dirty. God she felt awful.

Esteria didn't seem to care too much though, as she simply helped Nicole shift slightly and talons started to work at some pesky mats. In no time, her hair was in a comfortable braid that started relatively high, keeping the locks away from her nape which meant just a tad less overheating. Not to mention it kept it in place and away from her mouth that she didn't trust in the slightest right now.

"Thanks," she actually managed to not let her voice crack this time.

"Oh it's no problem. Also," there seemed to be an odd strain in her voice, "Mother Miranda is coming this evening. She said something about an examination."

Nicole couldn't help but openly wince and curl in on herself a little more at the mere mention of the woman. Her chest seemed to pulsate painfully at the memory of the golden talons embedded deep in her flesh. Right now she wanted those hands anywhere away from her.

"What time is it?"

Esteria looked at the clock placed somewhere on the wall behind them. "About twelve. Still got time."

How hard would it be to drag herself to the adjacent bathroom for a quick shower? The only way her situation could get worse was if none other than Mother Miranda came in to see her in that state. She took a deep breath that her lungs protested against and pushed herself onto her elbows. At Esteria's skeptical expression she tried to sound less horrible than she felt.

"I need a shower."

Esteria pursed her lips. "Sorry dear but I don't believe for one second that you can stand for more than a minute. I'll ask a maid to draw you a bath."

Nicole only nodded weakly and let herself fall back into the cushion.

---

It took far longer than Nicole would ever admit to get herself fully clean. Her muscles were sore and protesting at every pass of the soapy sponge. Her hair was a whole other battle and she had to bite down on her pride and ask the maid positioned outside her door for help. It was a tortuous fifteen minutes until the poor girl managed to detangle the long locks enough to be shampooed and washed.

After she was content with the level of cleanliness of her body and the maid was dismissed, she stood there preparing herself to get out of the basin. In the meantime she looked down at the wound at the bottom of her sternum. Maybe wound wasn't the right word. It looked more like a gray and black scar with vein-like tendrils spreading across pale skin. It looked downright gruesome. Miranda really did not try to do a clean job in the slightest. Didn't even think to use anesthesia, like she had with most other experiments, according to Alcina.

She sighed and finally pushed herself out of the water with shaky arms.

By the time Mother Miranda arrived she was feeling slightly better. Why she came personally was still a mystery to Nicole. Maybe some sick sense of satisfaction in seeing her in pain.

Either way, by the time their so-called goddess came into the infirmary and told Nicole to lay down on one of the tables, she managed to shuffle her way over without her body protesting too much. Cassandra also quietly made her way on the opposite side of Miranda, gaining herself a glare.

"Must you hover over her like that?" Miranda's tone was as even as ever, but her eyes betrayed annoyance.

"Does it hinder you?"

Cassandra was not an idiot, the growl she wanted to add into her question was instead replaced by a tone not too dissimilar to Miranda's own, who simply tugged her lips into a grimace.

"Very well."

At first they went through a normal examination. Pupil dilation, reflexes, all things a normal doctor would do. Then Miranda told her to unbutton her blouse so she could take a look at the infection scar.

Nicole couldn't help flinching when thankfully gloved fingers would poke and prod at the sensitive flesh there. Her cold digits felt like hot coals were spread on her chest and nails dragged uselessly on the metal underneath her body for some sort of distraction.

Mother Miranda decided to get a tissue sample and that's when Nicole decided that maybe she would rather spend eternity as a ghost. She squeezed her eyes shut when a scalpel was brought to the overly sensitive skin. It took her back to when she would do autopsies, years ago. Tissue samples were always an integral part of her work. How ironic that she found herself on the other side of things.

It's fine.

She winced when the blade cut into flesh and sent a jolt of pain through her chest. Nicole couldn't help but think of the long days she spent agonizing while her chest felt like it was burning her alive and hoping that it wouldn't repeat. A sigh of pure relief slipped past her lips when whatever fake deity there was besides this woman, listened to her and the sensation died out quickly. She dared to open her eyes, only to see Mother Miranda frowning down at the small vial in hand.

It was quickly given to an assistant and she unceremoniously grabbed Nicole's wrist, dragging the blade across the length of her forearm.

Nicole gasped at the sudden sharp pain, and even Cassandra dropped a few choice words in romanian due to the surprise. No. No no no. What the hell-

Any questions, or less dignified reaction, died in everyone's throats as they watched the skin stitch itself back together. The repairing muscles gave a tingling sensation but soon the only proof that a cut had been there were thin trails of blood.

Mother Miranda chuckled and wrote down something in the notebook she brought with her. "Accelerated healing. That can be of use."

Nicole couldn't help but throw a glance at Alcina, who was sitting in one of the many chairs with Esteria by her side. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of conflicting emotions flashing in her eyes like rapid lightning. She would've tried to decipher their matriarch's probable thoughts were it not for the smell that was starting to assault her senses.

"Ugh what's that…blood… "

Coherent sentences were still not something her brain wanted to do apparently, but judging by how her nose scrunched up in a grimace, Cassandra got the gist of what she meant.

"Um… your arm," she pointed to the still fresh blood slowly dripping from her skin.

Right. Dumbass.

"Or damaged sinuses. Should go away soon," Miranda added from where she was noting something down and giving instructions to her assistant.

Also fair.

She sighed and tried to ignore it. Her sinuses still felt like sandpaper all the way to the back of her throat. Every time she swallowed, it felt like needles scraping the inside of her neck down to her stomach.

Ugh.

Thankfully, Mother Miranda did not linger for much longer. She wrapped up any samples and was out of the room soon after with her assistant in tow. Then, Nicole could finally go back to laying down in bed and feeling miserable.

And miserable she felt. Her body seemed to have decided to rewire itself into its new mutation. It didn't have any effect on her physical appearance, but the insides seemed to want to liquefy only to be mended back together. It was another week of basically living with a bucket in her lap and throwing up blood clots that seemed to invade her lungs and organs. How she didn't straight up asphyxiate was a mystery that she didn't think she wanted solved.

And to top it off, she was starting to think that humidity from some leaky pipe somewhere in the castle was causing a slight mold problem. Almost everywhere she went, there was this faint moldy scent lingering in the air and it was mixing horribly with the coppery feeling inside her still offended throat and sinuses. Nobody seemed bothered by it though, so maybe it was simply a side effect of the infection that was yet to go away. It wasn’t nicknamed the Mold for nothing, after all.

#unhinged maiden™ my beloved #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x maiden #momma esteria #mother miranda #fanfic #tw: gore #to bargain for immortality #in which nicole gets way too familiar with miranda's petty side

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volleychumps · 4 years

Note

Can I request a scenario with Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama where their s/o is getting harassed by some creep but when their s/o stands up for herself, they're thinking " oh thank god I don't need to kill anyone". BUT when the creep lays a hand on her, all bets are off and they just punch the dude in the face!Cause there's jealousy and then there's pure protective rage!!!

S/O Who is Getting Harassed w/ Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama

Warnings: cursing, mild nsfw themes

--------------------------------------------

Kuroo

“Kitten, I’m waiting~”

“Keep it in your pants for a second, will you?” You laugh, your shoulder supporting your cellular device as you hold it up to your ear, shuffling around in your bag to find your wallet with your occupied hands. “I still cannot believe you put me in charge of ice cream duty.”

“It was to prove that me calling you up in the middle of the night means cuddles and anime!”

“So not a dick appointment?” You joke as your finished getting rung out, the woman behind the counter giving you a strange look as you flinch at the fact that you had actually said that in front of another person as Kuroo’s laughter is heard audibly at the other end of the call. Bowing deeply in apology, you rush out of the convenience store as you breathe in the air of the late-night soothingly to calm your embarrassment.

“I’m gonna come to meet you halfway, alright kitty?”

“In your car?”

“No, in a fucking spaceship. Yes, in my car.”

You roll your eyes, a smile still on your face as you begin your trek in the desired direction as your sassy boyfriend seemed to be getting impatient.

“I can just skip and not meet you for this appointment you know-”

“It’s nOT A-”

You hum in satisfaction as you end the call, walking along the street in search of Kuroo’s vehicle when an instant feeling of being watched sends a shiver down your back. Your hands straighten your clothes as you glance behind you, unsurprised yet uneasy at the sight of a man seeming to stare you down, eyes raking shamelessly upon your figure.

Kuroo’s brows furrow as soon as he turns the corner, not having parked far as he sees you looking behind you worriedly, seeming to engage in a uneasy conversation with the stranger before you.

The greasy grin on said stranger’s face had Kuroo’s feet moving before he could think, but the captain stills when he sees you scoff, crossing your arms heatedly at whatever he had said. Now within a hearing range, Kuroo smirks as he leans against the wall as you tell the creep off, hands finding home in the pockets of his red jacket.

“Can you maybe go crawl back into whatever dump you and your nasty-ass teeth came from?”

Kuroo’s grin only widens as you roll your eyes and walk past him seeming to be fearless, even shoving your shoulder against his in the process as Kuroo goes to call out to you to enforce the leave of that creep immediately-

“You bitch!”

but red flooded his vision as soon as a hand was lain on your bare shoulder, spinning you around roughly as an audible squeak of fear and surprise slips your lips, reeling his arm back-

And then Kuroo’s feet were really moving.

Kuroo shoved the guy off you with a snarl on his features, eyes spinning dangerously as your boyfriend delivers a sharp knee to his stomach, sending your attacker to the ground in less than a minute. The smile that spread on Kuroo’s lips was anything but kind as he lifted the now fearful man up a few inches by the shirt, mock-kindness in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, care to repeat that for me again?” The polite words held such a menacing edge as Kuroo grit his teeth, feeling you place a hand on his back soothingly.

“Kuroo, let’s go.”

“No. Someone’s gotta teach this prick what happens when people lay their hands on my girl.” Kuroo lets go of his shirt, grinning when he hits his head on the street before lifting him back up again, ignoring his groan of pain. “And that someone’s gonna be me.”

“Tetsurou.”

Kuroo groans at your strict tone as if you had interrupted his playtime, fist unclenching around the stranger’s shirt as he makes a hasty escape, tripping himself over in the process before dashing away.

“Look at me listening to you, princess.”

Kuroo’s eyes held a pissed-off edge to them as he takes a strand of your hair, running his fingers through it before kissing the strand with closed eyes. Your mouth goes dry when his cat-like eyes open again, staring at you as if you were his favorite posession before cupping your face, leaning closer with a grin that wasn’t happy.

“Just how tight do you have me wrapped around your little finger?”

You clear your throat, shifting in place as the moon seems to illuminate Kuroo’s stare, feeling his eyes bore into you as the strand slips from his fingers, his breath beginning to mix with your own.

“Tight enough, apparently.”

“Just... come cuddle and watch anime with me?”

“Yeah, we’ll have our appointment, whatever- but kiss me first.”

And so he did, anger fading away in the movement of his lips against yours, draining away completely when he feels your smile against his.

Even if it wasn’t an appointment.

Bokuto

“Bo, I’ll be fine, I promise!”

“Do you pinky promise?”

“I- there’s like a 7% chance something will happen to me in the five minutes you’re gone.”

“That’s 6.9% too much.”

“Bo, I’m hungry.” You whine, grinning as you win the argument that was hardly an argument, seeing Bokuto’s eyes widen a little in worry before puffing his cheeks out, spinning on his heel in the direction of your desired food stand.

“You win this one!”

“I usually do!” You call back, shaking your head at Bokuto’s protective tendencies. A rare off day the two of your shared had wound the two of you at the mall, a day’s worth of shopping sitting at your feet as your golden-eyed boyfriend bought you lunch from the food court. You hummed, scrolling on your phone as you patiently waited until the sound of someone clearing their throat caused you to lift your head.

Well, looks like you’re going to need to recalculate that percentage.

“Someone as pretty as you should never be sitting alone in a place like this, hm?”

“I’m not alone, though!” You chirp fakely, unknowingly causing the boy to press on, taking the seat that was reserved for your spiker boyfriend as you blanch.

“Nice excuse, sweetheart- but that won’t work on me.”

You clench your jaw, praying Bokuto wouldn’t return just yet and throw a fit you knew he was bound to throw as you offer a strained smile at the smirking boy.

“I’m actually waiting for somebody-”

“I don’t see them, though?”

Bokuto stills, hands tightening around the tray holding your food subconciously at the scene before him, scenarios drifting through his head on what approach would make you the least mad at him. Cursing him out? Perhaps spiking the lunch tray at his head? That is, until-

“Do you not understand what waiting means, or does nothing occupy that space between your ears?”

“Feisty.”

“Grow the hell up.” You plaster a smile as you flick him off, crossing one leg over the other for effect, causing your pursuer to rise to his feet in a now ticked-off manner as Bokuto grins, eyebrows raising in surprise.

The grin fades as the asshole uses his thumb and forefinger to pinch your cheeks together harshly, the uncomfort apparent on your expression as you glare heatedly up at him, a crowd beginning to form.

“Pretty girl with a dirty mouth, huh? That can be arranged-”

A tap on the shoulder.

“Do you know what else can be arranged?”

“Who the hell-”

He never gets to finish his sentence as Bokuto grabs him by the shoulder, ripping him off you and reeling his own arm back before delivering a punch so hard to the guy’s jaw you swear you could hear a few cracks. The crowd was definitely beginning to get bigger as Bokuto pays no mind, cracking his knuckles as the guy who put his hands on you looks up into the golden eyes of a pissed-off ace, the grin on Bokuto’s face borderline deadly as gold begins to darken.

“Who am I?” A humorless chuckle that could have been almost considered kind. Bokuto tilts his head innocently as he ignores the bruising on his knuckles, leaning down to ask an equally innocent question.

“Take a fucking guess.”

You gasp at the headbutt delivered next, causing your pursuer to groan and fall backwards, Bokuto unfazed before realizing you were now holding him back before grabbing your hand, collecting your bags and your food in a hurry as he tugs you along, ignoring the flash of the cameras and gasps of the crowd. You have to hold him back from turning around for more in your effort to leave.

“Just one more punch-”

“Trust me, that was plenty.”

It isn’t until you reach the parking lot when Bokuto finally stops, holding your hand so tightly it almost feels icy numb, not knowing what to say as his golden eyes turn to you, as if he was trying to hold his anger back. You hear him drop all the bags he’s holding as you hug him quickly, burying your face in his chest as the ace immediately relaxes.

“God, stop being so pretty.” He finally mumbles into your hair, and you let out a laugh of relief as he calms down.

“Right. So maybe not 7%-”

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Bo?”

“Never leave my sight, please?” Your heartstrings tug at the crack in his voice, now determined to prevent his emo mode on your day off.

“That’s a lot to promise.” You find yourself whispering back, pulling back a little to cup his face gently as Bokuto’s forehead touches yours. “But I’m so thankful you showed up when you did. You know what I can promise, though?”

You smile at Bokuto’s head tilt, feeling the ace impatiently trace his lips along your neck as you giggle, feeling the atmosphere lighten as Bokuto pouts when you pull back with a question-

“Car sex?”

Bokuto’s pout is replaced with an excited grin, for this boy worships your body 10000%.

“I thought you’d never ask, baby! Get in for the ride of your life!!”

“Just because I feel bad for your bruised knuckles- I’ll let that pun slide.”

Bokuto smirks as he kisses your forehead, winking at you through the window after closing the car door for you as the day’s events already begin to fade-

being replaced with something much more important.

Kageyama

“...you sure you’re okay?”

“Of course I’m okay! Why wouldn’t I be? I’m dandy.” Kageyama snaps, causing Hinata to back off with both arms raised in the air as a sign of meaning no harm. The blue-eyed boy grits his teeth from his spot on the sidelines of the court, pissed that the game was starting and he had no way of defending you from the creep sitting by you in the stands.

Kageyama relaxes a little when he sees you switch seats with an offering Kenma, thankful for his fellow setter for once as his blue eyes meet your bright ones.

The tension in his face and body drains at your smile, mouthing an I’m okay, do your best! as Kageyama returns his focus to the match just as it starts. Knowing he can’t lose concentration, especially when you’re watching, is hard- considering you were wearing his jersey number and the shortest skirt he had ever seen on you- a promise for something special you had mentioned if he won today’s match.

He had a little bit of a clue what that could be.

The match went smoothly with your genius-setter boyfriend playing at his top-game for a reason no one would ever pinpoint as you can’t help but giggle from the secret behind his determination today.

What you were wearing was for him, but a certain someone didn’t seem to understand that.

Kenma cast you a worried glance as he raises from his seat as he looks amongst the filled seats, trying to find one for you to sit in as he has to go start to warm up.

“Y/N-san, what if you go to the other side?”

“I’ll be fine, Kenma!” You assure him, ignoring the smirk of the guy who had previously started to talk you up. “I’ll probably go stand at the railing.”

“Mm. That’s probably best- stay safe.” Kenma nods, sparing a warning glance to the scum next to him as if to enunciate his point before taking his leave as you walk up to the railing that was mostly unoccupied. You cheer for Kageyama as he scores quick after quick, thinking you were now in a safe manner.

But you weren’t.

Kageyama tilts his bottle upside down to drink down the liquid as soon as the match’s victors are declared Karasuno, the raven-haired boy wiping his mouth as he scans the crowds for you and your expected cheering form for his win, but what he saw had the setter moving quickly despite the ache in his legs. His teammates look on in worry before realizing the situation from a distance.

“Please leave me alone, sir, I came for one of the players today-”

“Why have one of these boys when you can have a real man?”

Kageyama jogs into hearing distance- stopping at the rare, cold edge your tone took on before starting again.

“Did you not hear what the hell I said, or are you hard of hearing you old geezer?” You keep your smile on, failing to notice the familiar raven-haired boy beginning to deadass climb the railing. “And real men leave girls alone when they ask.”

“Come on, play nice~”

You barely have time to flinch when his hand goes up your skirt, and it’s suddenly gone as soon as it does.

Kageyama was surprisingly calm as he pins the man to the railing, blue eyes spinning with an emotion you had hardly seen before as he holds both hands behind the guy’s back, using his other hand to bow his head down to the ground.

“Just where the hell do you think you’re touching?” Kageyama seethes as you smile at his sweaty appearance, seeing the man struggle as the rest of the Karasuno team jogs up to the stands as a commotion begins to break out, Suga asking if you’re okay as Daichi and Asahi both take the pervert from Kageyama before the setter can do something rash-

“Oh, before you take him-”

You flinch when Kageyama reels his fist back to clock him right in the nose, gasps filling the stands as Kageyama wipes the blood off his knuckles with the end of his jersey, whistling lowly at the cuts on his fist.

“Alright. You can take him now.”

Kageyama ignores the scold of his captain as he grabs you by the forearm, tugging you away as you wave a hasty goodbye to Suga as you follow him all the way into the empty hall, spinning you around so he can hold your wrists together with one hand.

“I’m really, really pissed.” Kageyama whispers, blue eyes hardened as you swallow when your back touches the wall, your eyes darting everywhere but on him. “Do you mind?”

“D-Do I mind what?” You stutter when the setter’s lips touch your neck, sending chills down your spine when he speaks against it, his own hand sliding up your thigh.

“Use my anger in the little reward you promised me?”

You laugh out loud, taking a handful of his raven hair before tugging it back with a smile on your features, kissing him sweetly with other intentions.

“Get me alone first, dummy. Good job on winning!”

“And-” Kageyama’s voice drops an octave, uncaring of anyone entering the hall as his other hand slides up under his jersey that was adorning your body.

“I want to cover anything that bastard might have left on you.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

General works: @takemetovalhalla @savemesteeb @kasandrafaye @dreebbles @yams046

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu kuroo #Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro x reader #bokuto #haikyuu kageyama #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios

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qianinterprises · 3 years

Text

Warm Mornings

Pairing | Jeno x Reader x Jaemin

Warning(s) | slightly suggestive (if you squint), polyamorous relationship

Synopsis | Just an everyday morning in the life of you, snuggled between the loves of your life.

Author’s Notes | I wrote this after reading this by @bluejaem. After getting permission (in the form of a brain dumped imagine lol), I decided to write my own little NoMin poly! I would also like to add that I started over three damn times before I was finally happy with it, but it has not been beta read so... expect grammatical errors (Im sorry!)

Work Count | 1.9K

°:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮　 °:. *₊ °:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ °

As morning bloomed over the city, pulling individuals out of their dreams to dawn a new day, you rolled over under the blankets, careful not to disturb the arms wrapped around your waist in your quest for comfort. As you settled on your side, facing the eastern window, your eyes cracked open, sleep already leaving you for awakeness.

Sunlight beamed into the window, casting hues of gold along the walls, creating patterns and designs of light around the room. One beam of sun in particular hit the back of the man to your left, light bouncing off his bare skin and illuminating his body in such a way he appeared to almost be glowing. Golden rays bounced off his dyed brown hair, creating such an heir of elegant innocence around him.

The bed ruffled and the body behind you wiggled until one of the arms around your waist was pulling you back against a broad chest, face nestling in your neck, blowing soft tufts of air across your sensitive skin, making you shudder.

“Good morning,” his voice was deep and raspy, husky with sleep.

“Morning,” you whispered back, quiet so as not to wake the male in front of you.

“Is he glowing?”

A smile falls across your face, eyes roving over the porcelain face of Na Jaemin, deep in the confines of sleep, eyes fluttering lightly with dreams, hair a mess atop his head.

“Like an angel,” you whispered.

The arms around your waist seemed to tighten even more as he pressed a kiss on your jaw.

“Our angel.”

You placed your hands lightly over his, stroking along his skin, tracing the bulging veins that came with being a well-built muscular man with a love for exercise.

“Are you two talking about me again?”

Jaemin’s voice brought a yelp from your throat and your body lurched backwards in shock, unfortunately sending your foot into a not so friendly place for the man behind you.

The arms released your body completely as said male let out a slow whine, hands moving down to cup himself, coaxing the organ to stop spiking with the pain your foot had left.

You rolled over, careful of your limbs this time to check that the male was alright.

Lee Jeno. A tall, lanky but muscular man that had stolen your heart the first time your eyes met. His face was contorted in pain, eyes squeezed shut to keep in the tears that surely weren’t far from falling.

“I am so sorry!” you breathed, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, but he flinched at your touch.

“Give him a moment. Let him catch his bearings.”

Jaemin’s voice wasn’t half so husky now as he wound his arms around his waist and pulled you back, careful of your feet as you curled your legs again comfortably.

“That wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been pretending to be asleep!” you hissed.

“Oh I wasn’t pretending. You two just aren’t as quiet as you think you are.”

You turned your head to send a glare at him when a puff of air left Jeno’s lips and his body uncurled itself. His eyes opened, glassy, and he blinked a few times to rid the tears that threatened to fall.

“Next time you jump in fear, try to make sure your not curled up first!”

Jaemin snorted and you shook your hide, sliding out of Jaemin’s arms and closer to Jeno, who engulfed you in a bear hug, pressing your face against his shoulder.

“No fair! He got cuddles already! I haven’t got my cuddles yet!” Jaemin’s voice whined behind you.

“I just got kicked in the balls! I think I deserve a few extra cuddles!” Jeno insisted.

You rolled your eyes and pulled away from Jeno slightly. He let out a small, puppy whine, hands clinging to your waist as Jaemin cackled behind you, making a grab to pull you away. He let out his own yelp when you slapped one of his hands away and instead, grabbed his arm, tugging him closer until his chest was pressed against your back.

“You can both cuddle me,” you mumbled, nuzzling your face into Jeno’s neck as Jaemin’s arms slowly wrapped themselves around your body.

Your eyes began to droop as two warm bodies help you snuggly between them, hands softly stroking your back or your arms, lulling you back into your dreams, breathing in Jeno’s scent of earthy body wash, content at the way Jaemin’s lips pressed butterfly kisses along your neck.

°:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ ° . ☆ ✮　 °:. *₊ °:. *₊ . ☆ ° . *₊ ☆ ✮ ° . ☆ *₊ ☆°:. *₊ °

When you opened your eyes for the second time, you noted the lack of arms around you and the rhythmic heartbeat against your ear.

You let out a soft yawn, shuffling closer to the chest, immediately recognizing it as Jeno’s. You wound your arms around his waist, holding onto him like an overstuffed teddy bear.

He had his phone in his hand, playing some weird alien-killing game, his other hand lazily drawing patterns beneath your shirt against your back.

“Where’s Jaemin?” you asked with a small yawn, nuzzling closer.

“In the kitchen.”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when he didn’t glance up from the game as another green alien blob appeared on screen.

“I’m going to go see if he needs any help.”

You moved to get up, but the hand down your shirt quickly pulled out and wound itself around your waist, preventing you from moving.

“I’m under strict orders not to let you out of this bed.”

You rolled your eyes but complied, happy to rest your head against Jeno’s bare chest, but his abs were only so interesting.

“Can you hand me my phone?”

Dating two was a lot different than dating just one. You had to make compromises and things didn’t always work out flawlessly. For example, sleeping arrangements.

After dating for a while, the three of you had decided to get an apartment together rather than living in two separate apartments (because Jeno and Jaemin already lived together). It made sense, especially with their differing jobs and never having time to go on dates as a trio. When you’d first bought the apartment, you’d taken your queen sized bed from your old one, but that quickly ended in disaster, either Jaemin or Jeno ending up on the floor in the middle of the night after being kicked out of bed from a restless sleeper.

After finding one or both men snuggled up uncomfortably on the couch because the bed just wasn’t big enough for the three of you, you’d pooled your money and bought a larger, King sized bed. However, while this kept you all in bed without bruises, it also meant you were stuck under two blankets between two boys, both of which radiated heat like a space heater.

You’d find yourself waking up in the middle of the night, their arms wrapped around you, your shirt sticking to your back in sweat, which should have been an easy enough solution, just kick the blankets off. Problem was, when you did, you either squirmed so much it woke one or both of them up, or you ended up warm and toasty between two shivering boys. That was an issue solved with a ceiling fan, though it wasn’t perfect.

The newest issue, however, was always needing assistance to reach something. Rather than sleeping on a side with a night stand, you were constantly shaking them awake to ask for a sip of water from the nightstand or crawling over one of them to use the restroom. A solution to this problem didn’t seem so simple as the others. However, despite waking them up countless times in the middle of the night, they never complained. In fact, they almost seemed happy to do it, even when Jaemin was sluggishly pulling himself out of bed at 5am for work after a rough night.

Unwinding his arm from around your waist, Jeno reached for your phone on the nightstand, unplugging it, and placing it in your hands, wrapping his arm back around your waist and going back to his game.

Pressing a kiss to his chest in thanks, you unlocked your phone, smiling at the photo of the three of you at the beach, begrudgingly taken by Donghyuck who’d gotten roped into third-wheeling when Renjun had bailed at the last minute.

You opened your Tumblr account, shifting to hide your screen from curious eyes and you pulled up your initial feed, hearting posts and reblogging memes until you came upon a fic from your favorite blog <your favorite blog> featuring South Korean heartthrob, Jung Jaehyun.

Biting down on your lower lip, you took another glance at Jeno before letting your eyes scan greedily over the words, drinking them in. It wasn’t long before you were fully absorbed in the story that you didn’t realize Jaemin was calling your name until the phone was snatched out of your hands.

“Geez! You’d think you’d gone deaf!” Jaemin exclaimed.

You felt your cheeks heat up, nose twitching in embarrassment as you carooned into Jeno’s chest.

“What in the-”

Jeno cut himself off. You glanced up at him, curious as to what had shocked him, only for your eyes to widen when you found him gaping at your screen.

“What kind of filth-!”

“It’s called smut! And it’s not for you!” you cried, reaching for the phone, only to have it raised higher, out of your reach.

You huffed.

“When did you start reading that stuff?!” Jaemin gaped.

“Probably around the same time Jeno put that virus on your laptop!”

“Hey!”

“So you’re the culprit! I had to explain to my older brother why I had a virus from an adult site I’d never watched before!” Jaemin exclaimed.

He jumped on the bed, grabbed his pillow, and hit Jeno over the head with it, hitting you at the same time.

“Ouch!” you whined. “Stop it!”

Jaemin huffed and flopped down on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jeno placed your phone back on the table and all was quiet until you turned to look at Jaemin.

“What were you calling me for anyways?”

He stared at you in confusion for a moment before perking up.

“Oh! Do you want orange juice or coffee?”

“Um… coffee duh! We started dating two years ago, right? Not yesterday?”

“I was just making sure!” he grumbled, crawling out of bed and stomping back to the kitchen.

When he was gone, Jeno leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I still want to know why you were reading filth about that idol…”

“Just forget it Jeno. You wouldn’t understand,” you groaned.

Not even a minute later, Jaemin was walking back into the room carefully balancing three trays in his arms. Jeno reached out to grab his own. Jaemin placed your tray over your lap and slid back under the blankets on your left. You sat up in bed and leaned close to press a kiss to the males cheek, only for him to turn at the last minute, capturing your lips.

He brought a hand to your face, cupping your cheek softly, drawing you closer as his tongue brushed over your bottom lip before pulling away, placing a lasting peck on your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You nuzzled yourself closer, careful not to disturb the tray of food on your lap.

“I love you more,” Jeno, clearly dissatisfied with his lack of attention, stated moving up behind you and pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You let out a breathy laugh, wrapped one arm around Jaemin’s neck, the other around Jeno’s.

“I love you both the most.”

#ficscafe #nct nomin #jaemin x reader #jeno x reader #nct fluff #poly relationship #Soft #love

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leossmoonn · 3 years

Text

Big Bad and Little Wolf

masterlist

pairing - klaus mikaelson x fem,wolf!reader

type - fluff, angst

note / request - “Hey can you do a klaus x reader where she’s basically the wolf who’s pregnant with hope, basically Hayleys story but she does fall for klaus after hating him” alright so i don’t know too much about haley’s story, so i had to do some research. the beginning takes place in the first ep of ‘originals’ then the rest i made up cause i didn’t wanna have to rewatch the first season lol i hope i got it right. enjoy!

summary - after getting pregnant with the infamous hybrid, you find you have some feelings for him.

warnings / includes - language, mentions of sex, fighting, mentions of abortion (for anyone who isn't comfortable with that), and klaus being hot but a jackass at the same time :)

————

*gif isn’t mine*

“No, it’s impossible,” Klaus said, clenching his jaw.

“I said the same thing myself,” Elijah said.

Klaus glared and pointed at you, Elijah, and Sophie. “This is a lie. You’re all lying. Vampires cannot procreate.”

“But werewolves can,” Sophie said. “Magic made you a vampire, but you were born a werewolf.”

Klaus turned to face Sophie, not wanting to believe what she was saying.

“You’re the original hybrid, the first of your kind, and this pregnancy is one of nature’s loopholes.”

Klaus shook his head and went to lunge at you. “You’ve been with someone else. Admit it!”

Elijah caught his brother from ripping your throat out. You looked at him, hateful and regretful tears welling up in your eyes.

“Hey, I've spent my days held captive in a freaking alligator bayou because they think that I’m carrying some magical, miracle baby,” you said, balling your hands in fists. “Don’t you think I would’ve fessed up if it wasn’t yours?”

“My sister gave her life to perform the spell,” Sophie added. “She needed to confirm this pregnancy. Because of Jane-Anne’s sacrifice, the lives of this girls and her baby are now controlled by us. We can keep them safe, or we can kill them. If you don’t help us take down Marcel, so help me, Y/n won't live long enough to see her first maternity dress.”

The three of you looked at Sophie incredulously.

“Wait, what?” You asked.

“Enough of this. If you want Marcel dead, he's dead. I’ll do it myself,” Elijah said.

“No,” Sophie shook her head. “We can't, not yet. We have a clear plan that we need to follow, and there are rules.”

Klaus gritted his teeth. “How dare you command me. Threaten me with what you wrongfully perceive to be my weaknesses! This is a pathetic deception. I won’t hear any more lies.”

“Niklaus,” Elijah stopped is brother. “Listen.”

Klaus turned to you, looking at your stomach. He began to hear the baby’s heartbeat. You put your hand over your stomach protectively. Klaus couldn’t believe his ears. It was real, the baby you were carrying was real. He didn’t know how to feel, but he knew he wasn’t going to give in.

“Kill her and the baby,” Klaus said, turning to Elijah. “What do I care?”

Elijah glared at his brother. Klaus walked off, not caring to give you a second glance.

“Screw you, Klaus!” You yelled out, followed by a choked sob. “I’m out of here.” You started to walk away, but one of Sophie’s friends blocked the entrance. You looked at Elijah for help. He turned to Sophie.

“No one touches the girl. I will fix this,” Elijah said.

Sophie let the two of you go. You walked out of the alley, tears streaming down your face. Elijah took your arm gently, having you face him.

“I will talk to him, Y/n,” Elijah said.

“What’s the use?” You sniffled. “He wants nothing to do with this baby. He’s a selfish, heartless monster.”

“Y/n, let me try and make him see what this baby brings to the table. I assure you, everything will be okay,” Elijah said. “I give you my word.” You looked into Elijah’s eyes and nodded. “Alright. Thank you.”

Elijah nodded and left to talk to Klaus. You went back to the byou, knowing that the witches were waiting for you.

The next day wasn’t any easier. It didn’t seem like Elijah got through to Klaus at all. You couldn’t help curse at yourself for putting yourself in this position. Why did you sleep with him? And secondly, why didn’t you use a condom?

You shook your head at your thoughts, walking through the French Quarter to where the Mikaelson’s lived. You were going to find Rebekah and try to see if she could talk to Klaus.

You knocked on the door, frowning when you saw Klaus.

“Hello, Little Wolf. What can I do for you?” Klaus grinned.

“Is Rebakah here?” You asked.

“Yes, she is,” Klaus said.

“Great. I need to talk to her,” you said, trying to go into the house, but you ran into Klaus.

You huffed in frustration, looking into his dark-blue eyes.

If we were to have this baby, at least it would have his pretty eyes, you thought.

“Not so fast, Y/n. Have you know, Rebakah already tried to talk to me about not killing you or the baby, but sadly, it didn’t work,” Klaus said.

You scoffed, “Are you really this heartless? I don’t care about you killing me, but a baby? Oh wait, no, I get it. You’re scared that we’re gonna be shit parents like your parents. I get it now.”

You knew you had peicered his heart, becuase he took ahold of your neck and used his vamp speed to take you in the house and slam you against the wall. You groaned in pain, trying to pry yourself from his grip.

“Do not speak to me like that!” Klaus shouted. “You think you can sway me with your little findings? You think I want to be a parent, Y/n? No, I want nothing to do with the horrendous thing growing inside of you,” Klaus growled.

You gasped for air, your hands on is hand, trying to get him to let go.

“Niklaus!”

Klaus and you saw Elijah behind him, a disappointed look on his face.

“Let go of the girl. Now,” Elijah commanded.

Klaus looked back at you, crazy shining in his eyes. He let you go roughly. You fell to the floor, holding your neck and coughing.

“You do not treat a woman who is barring a child like that, Niklaus. Mother would be so disappointed in you,” Elijah said.

Klaus growled, “Do not talk to me about Mother!”

“Fine,” Elijah said. He walked over to you, helping you up. “I will talk to you about this baby, though. If you do not wish to comply with the witches and keep the baby safe, then you shall be killed. If you do comply, you could welcome your first child into the world, Niklaus. I know you felt something when you heard the heartbeat, so think seriously about your decision to leave or care for the girl and the baby.”

Klaus looked between you two. His brother was right. When he heard the baby’s heartbeat, tears of joy had sprung in his eyes. And the thought of you carrying his baby filled his heart with a little love and pride. He knew that if he did comply, then everything would change. He would change. Was he able and willing to do that?

“Let me think about it,” Klaus said.

“Alright. Have your answer by tomorrow morning. Say sorry to Y/n,” Elijah said.

Klaus looked into your eyes, seeing tears fall out of them. It pained his heart to see you cry more than he’d like to admit.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he said.

You gave Klaus a forgiving, kind smile, knowing he meant it. “Thank you.” You then turned to Elijah.

“Can I stay here tonight? I hate the byou.”

“Of course. We have plenty of rooms. Do you want dinner?” Elijah asked.

“Sure,” you nodded.

Elijah smiled at you, then looked to Klaus. “Klaus go and cook something for Y/n, hm?”

“Fine,” Klaus rolled his eyes. He went to the kitchen to get to work.

“He acts like he’s 5. Oh, my God,” you chuckled.

“Yes, he’s immature, but if he makes the right choice like I know he will, he will be a great father,” Elijah said.

“How do you know that he will make the right choice?” You asked.

“Well, Klaus loves family. He loves the idea of a perfect family. We never had that as children. I know he would love to have a family of his own more than anything, but his fear of taking care of a child blocks him from admitting,” Elijah explained.

“And his pride. He’s too afraid to become soft,” you snorted.

Elijah chuckled, “Yes, you are right.”

You smiled at Elijah. “Thank you for saving me, again.”

“Of course, Y/n. This baby is going to my neice or nephew. It’s already part of the family, as are you. Now, I should be going. I have some business to attend to,” he said.

“Alright. See you again,” you waved.

Elijah gave you a warm smile and left the house. You sighed and seated yourself in the living room. You hoped to the moon Elijah was right.

The next morning you woke up to the smell of eggs and bacon. You did a big stretch before finding yourself needing to puke You rushed to the bathroom, falling to your knees. While throwing up, you felt the hair around your face lift up. You finished having your morning sickness and took a sheet of toilet paper and wiped your mouth. You flushed the toilet, looking back to see Klaus with a cheerful smile on his face, his hand holding up your hair.

“Oh, it’s you,” you said, standing up. You went over to the sink to wash your face and hands.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me,” Klaus said. “I helped your hair not fall into the toilet.”

You chuckled, “Right. Yeah, thanks.”

You started to brush your teeth, Klaus standing there, watching you. You furrowed your brows and spit out the toothpaste.

“Go away,” you said.

“No, I wanted to talk about the baby,” Klaus said.

You turned around, leaning on the sink counter. “Does this mean you have agreed to help me take care of the baby, and not put me in a chokehold anymore?”

Klaus chuckled and moved closer to you. “Yes, but on one condition.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I don’t want to hear it. The baby and I are hungry, I’m going downstairs.” You moved past him, but only got out of the bathroom before being pulled back.

“You’ll want to listen to me, Little Wolf. It will make it easier for us,” Klaus said, pulling you so barley had any space between you two.

Your heartbeat spiked up, not feeling totally comfortable with how close you two were.

“Let me go, Klaus,” you said through a clenched jaw.

“One moment. I will protect you and the baby and do what the witches want, if you agree to do stay out of my way and do whatever I command you to.”

You scoffed, “No! I’m not gonna be one of your victims. I’m carrying your baby, Klaus. You have no right to control me.”

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Fine. Just promise to stay out of my way then?”

“Fine,” you sighed.

Klaus put his hand up to your cheek, brushing a peice of hair out of the way. You looked up into his eyes, feeling a gravitational pull between you and him. Your eyes flickered down to his lips and back to his eyes. Klaus smirked, cupping your cheek.

“Falling, are we?” Klaus remarked.

You puled away, the moment ruined and the feelings you were feeling disappearing slowly.

“You wish,” you said before walking off.

Klaus looked at your retreating figure, feeling a little regretful that he had spoken. If he hadn’t, maybe you two would have kissed.

He shook his head of the romantic feelings he was feeling. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you. You were just a little bump in the road in his plan to ruling New Orleans. And this baby you two had, like the witches said, is the miracle baby that would change the supernatural world forever.

He walked down to find you eating some strawberries, smiling and talking to Elijah. Even though he pushed his feelings for you away, he couldn’t deny you were gorgeous, even when just after waking up.

“Ah, good morning, Klaus. Y/n has told me that you have chosen to protect her and the baby. I’m glad you made the right choice,” Elijah said.

“Yes, well, I’m not completely heartless,” Klaus said and sat down at the island table next to you.

“Could’ve fooled me,” you smirked.

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Klaus rolled his eyes, throwing a blueberry at you.

You giggled, chucking a strawberry at him. Klaus smiled at you, catching the strawberry and eating it. You couldn’t help but smile at this. You never had ever seen him like this. He looked joyful and carefree. It was nice to see him like this. You hoped he continued to be like this before and definitely after your pregnancy.

“Hello, love birds!” Rebekah announced.

You looked to the blonde and smiled. “Hey!”

“How is my sister-in-law-to-be?” Rebekah smiled.

“Good since your brother hasn’t been an ass for the last 5 minutes,” you said.

“Wow. Now, that is unheard of. Interesting,” Rebekah smiled.

“You two are friends? I thought you two hated each other?” Klaus asked.

“Well, she’s carrying my neice or nephew. It’s different now,” Rebekah explained.

“Yep. Apparently having your child gets me friends,” you chuckled.

Rebekah smiled. “Well, plus, she is a great person once you get to know her. And she’s the only girl who lives here now. I’m sick of being in the boy’s club.”

“Aw, thanks, Bex. You’re a great person, too,” you smiled.

Rebekah came over and took a strawberry from the bowl in front of you. “I have to go.”

You frowned, “Oh, why? Don’t leave me with them.”

“Ah, Y/n,” Elijah smiled. “I have been nothing but nice to you.”

You smiled at him. “True, but I want some girl time.”

“We will get that time soon, promise. I have to go and meet Marcel,” Rebekah said.

“No,” Klaus said, standing up.

You glared at Klaus. “Let her go. She could use some time with someone who is romantically interested in her.”

“I said no. You will not do anything with Marcel as long as you are living with me,” Klaus commanded.

“Oh, please, Niklaus. I’m a grown woman, I don't listen to you anymore. Ta-ta,” Rebekah waved at you and left the house.

“Jesus Christ,” Klaus muttered. “I’m going to kill-”

“Klaus!” You exclaimed. “Come with me to shop for maternity clothes, yeah?”

Klaus turned to you, “Why would I want to do that?”

You frowned, “Because it’s good for a mother and father to bond, even when they hate each other. We can go and buy you some new shirts, too.”

“I don’t need to buy anything for myself,” Klaus said.

“Yeah, you do. You wear the same 3 colors. You need to put in some pink in your wardrobe,” you said.

“Y/n is right. Go and spend time with, as the millennials say, your baby mama,” Elijah smiled.

Klaus rolled your eyes. “You two are impossible, but fine! Let’s go and get this over with.”

You got up and clapped your hands in excitement. You put on sneakers and grabbed a jacket before going outside. Klaus followed you out to the shops. “I have a question,” you said.

“Yes?” Klaus asked.

“Since you can compel people, do you ever use actual money to buy clothes or compel yourself clothes?” You asked.

“Sometimes I buy, sometimes I compel,” he shrugged.

“Where do you get the money to buy?” You asked.

“I’ve been alive for 1,000 years, I have had jobs before,” Klaus explained.

“Ah, right. Makes sense,” you nodded.

You two walked the rest of the way in silence. You two went into a clothing store and went to the maternity section.

“You aren’t even showing yet, why do we need to buy now?” Klaus asked.

“It’s just a fun thing I’ve heard mothers do. Plus, I assume with time, life will be a lot more complicated, and I won’t have time to do these things,” you explained.

“Hm, interesting,” Klaus said.

You sighed quietly, looking at a few shirts for 3 months. Klaus followed behind you, observing you. He would never admit, but he enjoyed spending time with you. He did find you a little annoying and a bit of a distraction, but the fact that you were fun to be around and made him feel like he could let go was what made him all the more willing to comply with Elijah and the witches. You carrying his baby also helped, too.

“Why are you staring at me?” You asked.

Klaus shrugged, “I have nothing better to do.”

You hummed, “Right.”

You two shopped in silence for about an hour, then going to a nearby restaurant for a snack. Spending time with him wasn’t as bad as you thought. He was more quiet and a lot less whiney than he had shown in the past. He just let you do whatever you want, whatever was safe, of course. He actually was kind to you in the hour. He laughed at your jokes, answered whatever questions you had, and took an effort to ask questions he had to get to know you.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad, you thought.

You two went back home, a bunch of shopping bags in your hands. You put them in the living room, yawning and stretching.

“I’m going to take a nap,” you said.

“Alright, sleep well,” Klaus said.

You gave him a small smile and nodded. You went up the stairs, Klaus watching your retreating figure.

“See how easy it is to be nice?” Elijah’s voice came from the kitchen.

Klaus glared at his older brother. “I’m not doing it for you or her.”

“I never said you were, but now you have made me suspicious. It seems like you like her, Niklaus,” Elijah smiled.

“I don’t like her. Not romantically, anyways,” Klaus said.

“Are you sure? Why did you sleep with her, then?” Elijah asked.

“I don’t know. It was just a one night stand that ended up turning into something more. Why do you care, Elijah?” Klaus asked.

“I see the way you look at her, Niklaus. There is no shame in admitting your feelings,” Elijah said.

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Whatever, Elijah. I have to go.”

Elijah smirked, “Alright. See you later, brother.”

“See you,” Klaus said before going back out.

Over the course of the next few months, you and Klaus had gotten closer and became more friendly towards each other. You had learned that he had a passion for painting and reading. You learned that he wished that he had the perfect family and he hoped that one day, his family could reunite and be together once again. He knew how to cook and actually a good man, but because of his chaotic and violent childhood, he became the bad guy. He seeks validation and honesty in others, wanting to be loved and have friendships that lasted a lifetime.

Klaus had learned that you were adopted and thrown out all by the same family. You didn’t know who your real parents were, and you craved that information and have been searching for it since you first turned. He had learned that you had a passion for baking and helping others. That you were strong, confident, and weren’t afraid to protect your loved ones. He thought it was admirable the way you handled stress and betrayal, wishing he learned your patience.

Learning about each other more had made you two fall in love with each other, but that was unbeknownst to you two. You both didn’t even realise your own feelings. You personally knew that you liked being in Klaus’s presence. You felt safe and protected, accepted and even loved. He made you feel alive and the fact that he showed interest in you and the baby helped you like him more.

For Klaus, he enjoyed your presence, too. You always knew how to make him laugh. You made him feel different. Like he could be himself and forget who're or rather, what he was. It was freeing being with you, and he loved it. He was even looking forward more and more to the baby you and him had concieved. In his mind, you two were the family he always wanted and pictured.

Even though you two didn’t notice your infatuation with each other, everyone else sure did. Rebekah and Elijah decided to make a plan on getting you two together. Every chance they could, they would tease you two, make it so you tripped into him, left you two alone together, etc.

Like now, Rebekah had placed a golf ball on the floor and you had slipped. Klaus had rushed over to you and caught you in bridal style, immediately looking at your stomach for any signs of injury to the baby and you. He then looked to Rebekah and Elijah who are smiling.

“What are you two so happy about? Y/n could have hurt herself,” Klaus said.

“Oh, she’s fine. She and the baby would’ve healed,” Rebekah said.

“No, seriously, guys. Stop leaving shit on the floor, okay?” You asked.

Rebekah nodded, “Alright, alright. Sorry.”

Klaus let you go, his hands lingering against the small of your back. You weren't sure if it was the baby or his touch, but your stomach flipped. You leaned into him a little, wanting to be close to him for as long as you could. He was unbelievable warm, which was nice for you and the baby.

Elijah and Rebekah noticed your body language and smirked at each other. It was a wonder how you two didn’t notice each other’s love and care for each other. The both decided it was time for the two to have a talk with each of them, to try and push them to get together farther.

“Klaus, I need to see you for a second,” Elijah said.

Klaus moved away from you, leaving you cold and a little lonely. Klaus smiled goodbye at you before going in the next room with Elijah. Rebekah went up to you, a cheeky grin on her face.

“What are you and Elijah up to?” You asked.

“Nothing, nothing. I just wanted to talk to you about Klaus,” Rebekah said.

“Okay. What about him?” You asked.

“You’re in love with him, right?” Rebekah asked.

Your eyes went wide and your face flushed. “Wha-What?”

Rebekah smirked, “So you do. Why haven’t you done anything about it?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. He only sees me as the mother of his child, another person to call a friend. We are no where near romance right now.”

“You’d be surprised to hear that you’re wrong,” Rebekah said.

You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?”

“He's in love with you, too, Y/n,” Rebekah said.

“He’s not,” you scoffed.

“Yes, he is. Do you not see the way he looks at you? The way he cares for you and the baby? How every time you come into the room, a smile is immediately on his face and his aura is brighter?” Rebekah listed off examples.

The longer she went on, the more your face got red. “Ye-Yeah, I guess. You think he’s really in love with me?” You asked, hope shining in your eyes.

“Yes. Confront him. If I’m wrong, I owe you a lifetime of favours, okay? But if I’m right, I get a say in your baby’s name,” Rebekah grinned.

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Fine. Deal. I’ll confront him tonight after dinner.”

“Great! Well, looks like my work is done. I better see you two trying for another baby after dinner,” Rebekah smirked and winked at you.

“Bex!” You exclaimed with a laugh before she went upstairs.

A few moments later, Klaus came back from the living room.

“So, what did Elijah want with you?” You asked.

“Oh, just to talk about what we are going to do with Sophie, that’s all. How about you and Rebekah?” Klaus asked.

“Just stuff about the baby,” you answered.

“Fun. Well, ready for dinner?” Klaus asked.

You nodded and sat down at the kitchen table, watching Klaus cook for you. You watched him in silence. You also ate dinner in silence. You two had a feeling that whatever Klaus’s siblings talked to you two about was the same thing, but you two were just too shy to say anything. But as Klaus walked you up the stairs to bed, you had stopped to ask him the burning question you had in your brain all night.

“Are you… are you in love with me?” You asked him, looking him straight in the eyes.

Klaus’s eyes widened in surprise. He coughed and averted your gaze. “Maybe.”

Your lips upturned into a small smile. “I’m in love with you, too, Nik.”

Klaus looked up to you, a smile appearing on his face. “Really?”

You nodded and bit your lip. “Yeah.”

Klaus leaned towards you, snaking his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His other hand went up to your cheek, cupping it. You nuzzled into his hand, your own hands going to cup the sides of his face. You looked deep into his dark-blue eyes, getting lost in them. You two found yourselves leaning into each other, your lips eventually meeting.

Your eyes closed in an instant, pressing yourself up against him more. Klaus’s hold on your waist tightened and he deepened the kiss by dragging his tongue on your bottom lip. You opened your mouth quickly, giving him easy access to explore your mouth.

You two felt sparks fly around you two, both of your guys’s skin lighting on fire from each other's touch. Even though you two had kissed before, this time was more special. Almost monumental.

While you two were sharing your special moment, Elijah and Rebekah were watching with proud smiles on their faces.

“Such a wonderful couple,” Rebekah sighed.

“Yes. The big bad and little wolf,” Elijah smiled.

————

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