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#that first rush of his first crime
weaverhawk · 2 years
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rewatching my favorite episode because it's so fun and gay!
...neither Jongwoo nor Seokyoon have ANY brakes. this is literally the day they met and they're already like this (and Moonjo is already fed up with it). it's amazing.
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incognit0slut · 6 months
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MASTER OF PERSUASION
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Part 4 of kinktober | main masterlist
meandom!Spencer/Hotch x fem!reader; Threesome, creampie, dumbification, degradation, brat taming, abuse of power, edging, dubcon
Your involvement in a heinous crime was questioned by the two FBI agents who were eager to do anything to get you to talk.
Words: 6802
a/n: This one is dedicated to my nasty, touch-starved btches who secretly wants to be manhandled by two older men. Enjoy this pure filth🫶
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YOU WERE FAR FROM BEING A GOOD PERSON. From the surface, you seemed like a normal, typical woman, just one of the countless faces within the crowd. But when the doors shut behind you, you find yourself involved in endeavors you should never have pursued in the first place.
You knew too much. You were acutely aware of how many crimes happening in your vicinity. The number of deaths resulting from these heinous acts should be enough to terrify you, but it didn't, because unbeknownst to your peers, you were one of the reasons why they happened.
Although you never played the role of the perpetrator, you were the person these criminals came to for information. You were good with technology, you could hack into any secure system in the blink of an eye. It was almost as if you were a deity of the dark web, a mastermind whose mere presence served as a godsend to those carrying out these crimes.
It was easy money; you gave what they wanted, received what they paid you, and most importantly, you made sure to never look back. You always wiped everything out after each job was done, but somehow, after working on so many deals, your luck finally struck out.
Somebody hacked into your system—no, somebody good hacked into your system. This person knew what they were doing. They managed to hack through your firewall and retrieve a few of your data while also discovering your identity.
You honestly wanted to praise whoever was on the other side because you had never encountered someone who could match, if not surpass, your own skill. But it wasn't until you heard the loud banging on your front door, followed by people in uniformed vests rushing in and pointing their guns at you, that you finally realized who had breached your system.
It was the FBI.
So that was how you found yourself sitting inside an interrogation room hours later with two agents across from you. A very tall, intimidating man stood at the corner, his arms crossed as he watched you silently. Dr. Spencer Reid was how he introduced himself, and the way he emphasized the title in front of his name, you were certain he was the type of person who took extreme pride in his intelligence.
He seemed a little too cocky.
Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, on the other hand, was hard to decipher. The older man appeared somewhat guarded as if his job had forced him to put on a facade devoid of genuine emotions. Maybe it did. He was, after all, a federal agent. Both of them were. These men were probably taught to master the art of maintaining an inscrutable poker face.
Nevertheless, they were both intimidating, and you wondered to yourself, was good cop bad cop not a thing anymore? Because as far as this was going, none of them seemed inclined to make things easy for you.
The man in front of you cleared his throat, his voice was a well-practiced blend of authority and curiosity. "You've been quite elusive, haven't you, Miss Y/L/N?"
You leaned back, studying him through half-lidded eyes, your fingers tracing the edges of the table with a cool, almost casual detachment. "Elusiveness is a matter of perspective, Agent Hotchner. I prefer to think of it as adaptability."
"Adaptability?" He leaned in closer, his sharp gaze never wavering. "You've made quite a name for yourself. You've infiltrated government agencies, stolen classified data, and even orchestrated financial heists... Impressive, I must say."
A faint smile danced upon your lips, revealing just a glimmer of amusement. "I simply explore the hidden avenues of the World Wide Web. It's not about the thrill; it's about the knowledge."
His eyes narrowed. "But your actions have consequences. You've caused quite a chaos, don't you think?"
"Consequences are a part of every action, whether in the digital realm or the physical world. As for chaos..." You met his gaze with unwavering confidence. "Well, sometimes chaos is necessary for evolution."
He leaned back, his expression unyielding. "Evolution or anarchy?"
"As I said, everything is a matter of perspective, even anarchy," you replied, your voice smooth as silk. "In the grand scheme of things, I'm just a catalyst. Society's flaws were there long before I came along."
The man in the corner took a step forward. His eyes bore into you with resolve as if he had grown weary of the ongoing debate. "You've had your say," he interjected with a steely tone. "You know why you're here. Our victim's files were found on your computer, we need to know who requested them."
You met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and amusement, unfazed by his direct approach. "Doctor Reid," you said, your voice laced with a hint of mock surprise. "Always chasing ghosts in the machine, aren't you?"
His expression remained composed, his intellect undeniably sharp. "We're not here to discuss my pursuits. We're here to talk about the life you've disrupted."
"Disrupted? I'd say I've merely revealed the cracks in the system. Your victim, as you call them, was a casualty of a much larger game."
"Games have rules, Miss Y/L/N. You seem to operate outside of them."
"Rules are made to be broken, Spencer," you retorted, your tone cutting like a blade through the air. "I can call you that, right? I hate having to speak with such formalities."
"It's Doctor Reid," he corrected. "Tell us who you're working for."
His unwavering determination was met with a subtle, knowing smile from you. You leaned forward, your eyes locking onto his with a hint of intrigue.
"I don't know, Spencer," you began, your tone slightly softer, as if you were letting him in on a secret, "The digital world is a labyrinth of information. Files come and go, they disappear and reappear... It's like trying to catch a shadow in the dark. It's useless."
He addressed you with a cold stare. "You're playing a dangerous game here."
You raised an eyebrow, your voice honeyed with allure. "Oh, I'm well aware of the game we're playing. But don't mistake my refusal to cooperate for arrogance. It's just that some secrets are meant to stay hidden."
The room seemed to contract, the air thick with unresolved tension. Aaron cleared his throat and your eyes fell back on him. "Miss Y/L/N, give us a name and we can make things easier for you. But if you don't cooperate..." His eyes traveled down along your body, the goosebumps rose on your skin in response to the heat of his gaze. "I'm afraid we have to resort to extreme measures."
A brief pause hung in the room. There was something in the way he was staring at you. He was looking at you with a profound determination that seemed very different from the way he assessed you before. Under the weight of his scrutiny, you felt your body growing hot. Your breath hitched, and a flush of warmth crept up your neck and tingled in your cheeks.
You regarded him for a moment before you finally spoke, your voice calm but tinged with a hint of defiance.
"If you think you can break me, Aaron, you're gravely mistaken. But if you're interested in the name..." you leaned back, crossing your arms. "I guess you'll have to earn it."
The tension in the room escalated as your words hung in the air. His jaw clenched, and when you thought you had won the upper hand over this battle of wits, he surprised you by waving his hand in the air, and Spencer came forward.
It was as if they had planned this. The way Aaron instructed his partner to move seemed rehearsed and calculated. Spencer walked over to you and before you could register what was happening, he grabbed onto your arm and wrenched you out of your chair with a force you didn't know he possessed.
Your voice carried a mix of anger and frustration as you protested, "What the hell are you doing?"
You suddenly felt him run his hands along your arms. "Checking for weapons."
The scoff you gave him was loud. "Oh, now you're treating me like a criminal?"
"It's a mere precaution."
And then you felt it, the way his touch lingered on your body. It was far from any normal search. His hands felt warm on your skin, even over the material of your shirt, as he continued to pat down your arms. There was a certain roughness in his movements as he slid his arms around your backside and you couldn't mistake the way he gripped your ass more than he should probably have.
"This is ridiculous," you muttered under your breath. "You won't find anything."
"I'll be the judge of that." He slightly shoved your shoulders. "Put your hands on the table."
You reluctantly did as you were told, silently gritting your teeth. His hands moved with purpose, and as much as you wanted to stop this questionable act, your body was reacting in a way that had you questioning yourself instead.
Why was your heart beating so fast as he stood behind you? Why was it getting so hard to breathe when his hands slipped around your waist? And why did it seem you were anticipating more when his palms slightly hovered over your breasts?
"Is this really necessary?" You asked quietly, trying to act as if his rough hands on you weren't affecting you. "This feels more like an attempt for intimidation."
You could practically hear the smugness in his voice as he asked, "Are you intimidated, Miss Y/L/N?"
You liked to think that you weren't, but honestly, you didn't know anymore. You had tried your best to put on a mask to avoid appearing weak, but as he started to squeeze your breasts in the palm of his hands, it finally dawned on you what was happening—You were finally caught, there was a high chance of you ending up in jail, and now a federal agent was touching you inappropriately, groping you in a crude form of patting you down.
And to your dismay, you actually liked it.
But you had too much of a pride, that was why you found yourself lying through your teeth. "No."
Spencer hummed a reply as if he didn't believe you. He squeezed your breasts through your shirt again, palming at them as he slightly felt your nipples stiffen through the material, and he couldn't resist rolling them as his touch continued lower. Your breath hitched as he mapped out your curves, one of his hands delving between your thighs before he stopped right at the center of your heat.
You let out a gasp.
"I-Is this even legal?"
Your mind went blurry as you felt his fingers touching you through the thin fabric of your pants. "Are you questioning how the law enforcement works?"
You couldn't answer him. Not because you didn't want to, but because you weren't able to form any coherent words as he continued to palm your sex, his fingers continuing to rub you. You were suddenly so focused on the way he was touching you, your head hanging low as you felt the sensation throughout your body, that you didn't even hear Aaron calling out your name.
It wasn't until Spencer retrieved his hand from between your thighs, and yanked your hair from behind, that you were forced to meet Aaron's gaze. "He called you," Spencer mocked, tightening his grip.
Aaron leaned forward, assessing the way you were arching your back with both of your hands planted on the table. "You have two options. One, we can play nicely, you give us a name and we'll go easy on you." His voice dropped lower as he continued, "Or two, you keep with this attitude and we might have to coax the answer out of you."
You locked eyes with him, a silent challenge burning in your gaze. Despite being in this vulnerable position, there was an undeniable strength in your stare, a refusal to surrender to their intimidation. Aaron met your gaze with a profound understanding.
"The hard way it is then." You saw him lean back in his chair as he crossed his arms, the subtle movement actuating his broad chest. "You know what to do, Reid."
There was nothing remotely gentle about the way Spencer handled you after those words. He shoved you, knocking the air out of your lungs as you gasped, your body pressed against the cool surface of the table. Somehow between your struggles, he managed to slide his hands around your waist, unbuttoning your pants before pushing them down your legs.
The air hit your bare skin, and even when you felt the cool breeze, your body was seething with fire, burning through your veins. The warmth spread along your cheeks as you realized you were wearing your skimpiest underwear, a flimsy material of dark lace that barely covered your sex. He gripped your ass with the palm of his hands, fingertips digging into the plush skin as he spread you apart.
"Well, aren't you a pretty thing?" You felt him shift behind you and you imagined him kneeling right in front of your heat. The moment his knuckles brushed along your wet patch, your hips bucked involuntarily. "She's wet, Hotch, I think she's getting a little too excited."
"I'm not surprised," the older man said. "She does seem like a slut."
Your head snapped at him. "I am not a slut."
"Oh, you are a slut." He leaned forward and reached out his hand, holding your chin in a vice grip, forcing you to look at him. "And we'll prove you how much of a whore you actually are."
Right on queue, a surprised gasp left your lips when Spencer's large palm burned your skin, giving your ass a harsh slap. The sound echoed in the room and he repeated the motion, watching in satisfaction the way your ass rippled for him. You fell into a false sense of security as he began to soothe his hand against your burning skin before pulling back to give another loud smack, and your mouth fell apart in pleasure.
"Not a fucking slut?" Aaron taunted, his thumb brushing on your lower lip. "That's the most farfetched lie you told us ever since you walked through that door."
You glared at him, but your defiance slowly shattered when you felt Spencer pulling down your panties over the curve of your ass, slipping them down your legs. The evidence of your arousal stuck onto the fabric and you felt your cheeks going warm in embarrassment. Spencer sucked in a gasp as he took in the sight of your lower half completely naked for him.
"Barely even touched you and you're soaking wet," he murmured, letting his thumb brush over your pussy, gauging your reaction. Your nose scrunched as you tried to bite back a moan that threatened to slip out. He started with gentle strokes, keeping his fingers only on the outer side, yet you could still feel his touch everywhere.
Each downstroke he made gave a light pull against your clit without giving any direct contact, and each time his fingers came back up, he slowly spread your folds open for him, briefly allowing your slickness to come in contact with the cold breeze of air.
Your mind became hazy, and just when you thought your body couldn't react more to his touch, he slipped a finger between your folds, feeling your slick against the dainty flesh. The motion caused your hips to buck erratically and your hands immediately reached up to grip onto the edge of the table.
He slipped deep inside you as your arousal coated him, circling your tight entrance as he felt the way your walls fluttered around the tip of his finger. He let out a low grunt as he felt how tight you were around him, curling at the knuckle while he began to drag his calloused pad against the soft spot inside you, making your body shake just from the mere contact.
The subtle reaction didn't go unnoticed by Aaron and he watched as your eyes glazed over. He couldn't stop himself from smirking, his features revealing a hint of amusement.
"You're enjoying this too much. I'm starting to think you're keeping your silence for the sake of this." You moved your head away from his grasp, only for him to grip your jaw harder. "Don't fucking move. Keep your eyes on me while he fucks your tight little pussy."
You never thought you'd be hearing such crude words from him, not with his stoic demeanor and polished facade, nor did you expect your body to react the way it did when those words filled your ears. You couldn't help it, your body betrayed your mind as your cunt continued to throb between your thighs. You could feel the desire building inside you, threatening to burst as you felt your body shake, and Spencer was well aware of this as he felt your walls clenching around his finger.
The laugh coming through his lips rang in your ears, sending shivers down your spine. "She liked that."
Aaron raised his eyebrows at you. "You like it when I talk like this?" He taunted. "You like it when I tell you how much of a slut you are taking his fingers so deep inside you?"
Your eyelids dropped lower at his words, and right at that moment, a lewd squelch filled the room as Spencer slowly slipped another finger into your dripping cunt, stretching you out as he began to thrust them inside you at a steady pace. Your body quivered as your breath quickened, and you found yourself grinding against his touch, desperately trying to get him to press the same spot inside you.
"Look at you fucking yourself on my fingers," Spencer cooed, his free hand smacking your bare ass again, and you found yourself arching your back. "You really are filthy."
Aaron laughed. "Acting like you didn't want it a second ago." He gripped your jaw tighter, forcing a gasp out of you at the subtle pain. He took advantage of your opened mouth by slipping his thumb inside. "Suck on my finger, Sweetheart."
You didn't know which one surprised you the most, his sudden term of endearment, or the order he gave you. You hesitated, because the moment you willingly sucked on his finger, you knew you would lose. The moment you followed through to his demand, he would have the upper hand and you would simply be the pawn in this game.
Aaron, as you realized, wasn't a patient man. His other hand reached for your hair and then, with a sharp and sudden yank, he tore at your hair. "Don't make me use more force than I already am."
Your roots tingled, your scalp throbbing, and a few tears welled up in your eyes. You blinked them away, not wanting to show any sign of weakness, and leveled your gaze at him.
He pulled your hair again. "Suck."
The pain was so much for you that you found yourself wavering. You swirled your tongue around his thumb before closing your lips and sucking with an approving hum. A husky moan was pulled from deep within him, overwhelmed by the feeling of your mouth on him, and, especially, the sight of you. "That's it," he praised you. "Suck on it as if you're sucking my cock."
Your walls clenched again. A sound of pleasure erupted from Spencer as he felt your cunt sucking in his fingers, and without warning, he pumped them into you with so much force you couldn't stop yourself from moaning this time. He laughed, as did Aaron, and your body shook as you felt that familiar sensation tightening along your body.
The room around you seemed to blur and melt away at the pleasure coursing in your veins. It started in the pit of your stomach, a warm, liquid sensation that spread like a slow-burning fire, radiating outwards in waves. Your hushed moan was muffled by Aaron's thumb in your mouth, but the sound of your pathetic whining didn't go unnoticed by both men.
You were so fucking close you could feel every nerve in your body on high alert. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and your body quivered with the intensity of the sensation. Your eyes fell shut as the lewd sound of your arousal filled the room, and just when you were about to let go, Spencer suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, wrenching away that peak of pleasure you were desperately chasing.
Your eyes shot open, dilated pupils now wide with shock and confusion. Aaron met your gaze with amusement, a sadistic smile dancing on his lips as he pulled his thumb out of your mouth with a pop. "Stupid girl, thinking we'd actually let you cum."
The abrupt contrast between the heights of your pleasure and the stark void that followed was jarring. But before you could comprehend your disappointment, you heard a shuffle behind you followed by footsteps circling you. Spencer finally came back into your line of vision and with no one standing behind you, you tried to push yourself from the table, only to be shoved back down by Aaron.
"Fucking stay where you are," he commanded, his sharp voice piercing right through you. Your eyes were fixed on him, gaze unwavering as he slowly rose from his seat. And then suddenly he was the one behind you, and now Spencer stood right in front of you, looking down at you with amusement.
"You know," he started, his fingers trailing the side of your face. You moved your head away from his touch, but unlike Aaron, he didn't force you to look at him. He merely chuckled as he continued, "You wouldn't be in this position if you had given us the name."
Hearing this, you finally glanced up at him. The self-confidence he carried was starting to annoy you and you couldn't stop yourself from spitting venom, especially when he had ripped away the pleasure thrumming in your body. "I told you to fucking earn it."
The remaining air was knocked from your lungs when the palm of his hand collided with your cheek, your head jolting to the right from the force of the impact. Bright white stars danced behind your closed eyelids, and for a second you thought that you were dizzy from the shock. But then you felt it, the pressure that had been building in your core giving way, a wave of pleasure washing over you.
"Dirty girl," he taunted. "Here I was trying to shut you up and you actually liked that? You like being slapped around?"
You remained quiet, looking away from him.
"And don't worry, you will tell us by the end of this." You faintly hear the sound of metal ringing in your ears. Your eyes fell back on him and your heart sank when his hands moved down to his belt, unbuckling it as he let it hang around his hips.
His fingers moved to unbutton his pants before tugging down the fly. The sight of his hard cock tenting beneath his briefs had your cunt clenching in anticipation, as much as you hated to admit it. Then his thumbs dipped into the hem of his boxers, tugging the fabric down, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. He was bigger than you'd expected. He was thick and solid, veins danced along his length and the droplet of wetness on his tip was too mesmerizing you couldn't look away.
He wrapped a fist around his length, hissing in relief as he made his way towards you. "Now let's put that filthy mouth of yours to good use." He pressed the head of his cock against your lips, half-lidded eyes gazing down at you as he leaned forward. "Open."
The musky scent of him overwhelmed you as you breathed in and you involuntarily opened your mouth wide to accommodate his girth. The flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock as he gave soft, shallow thrusts inside your warm mouth. His fingers held onto your face as he watched his length disappear inside you.
"God, look at you—" Spencer rasped, his voice sounding strained. "Good fucking girl."
Each roll of his hips has more of his thick cock slipping inside your mouth. His palm moved to the back of your head, holding you steady as he forced his length further down your throat, watching as your cheeks darkened and your eyes watered. Your hands moved up to push at his thighs as you struggled against his grip, the desire to breathe overwhelming as you tried to push him away.
You suddenly felt lightheaded from the lack of oxygen and you began to cough and splutter around him, your throat constricting as the sensation flowed directly through his cock. The sensation made him groan out in pleasure as he finally eased his grip on your head and leaned back, allowing you to breathe as you continued to splutter, drool dripping down your chin as you gulped for much-needed air.
Your head felt delirious. You were too focused on catching your breath when you unexpectedly felt something thick pushing into your cunt in one swift motion, knocking you over as you let out a scream.
"Hotch," Spencer laughed, tightening his grip on your hair while he positioned his cock back onto your lips again. "You shocked her."
Aaron merely grunted a reply as he held onto your hips and started to thrust his cock into you. His thickness sent a ripple of pain between your legs. He was definitely bigger than anyone you'd been with before, your breath coming out in soft, shallow pants as he drove more of himself inside your tightness. Your teeth bit down on your lower lip as a dull ache filled your body, trying to ignore the pain as he continued to stretch your tight heat.
There were no words after that, the room was hazy with desire as the heat built within the small space. The two men focused their attention on your body as you took them at the same time. It was filthy, depraved, and something you'd never done before. You never thought you would be in this position, nor did you think you'd actually enjoy being used like this.
Because you did, you really fucking did. Your entire body felt hot, a scorching fire flowing through your veins as you embraced the sensation, an indescribable pleasure taking over as Aaron's cock curved towards that delicious spot inside you with precision.
Your body was pressed against the table, sweaty and exhausted. It was torture, the way he was slamming his cock inside of you at the pace that left you breathless, it hurt and burned with pleasure at the same time. Each thrust had you hanging on the edge of release, unable to think straight as your mouth continued to mindlessly babble around Spencer's cock.
Every so often he'd hold the back of your head securely so you couldn't move away as he continued to bury himself in your throat. A pleased sound escaped his lips as you started to choke around his girth. It felt like you were starting to drown yourself as he shoved into you ruthlessly. Your lungs cried out for air as you began to feel woozy from the lack of oxygen, desperately trying to breathe through your nose.
"Fuck," he hissed, finally easing his hips back to give you relief. You spluttered as you gasped for air, a mixture of his arousal and your spit dribbled down your chin. "So fucking messy."
You tried to calm your breathing, but it didn't take long for your brain to turn into mush again because Aaron snapped his hips, pulling a moan from your lips as he started a harsh pace. Fingertips dug into your hips as he buried more of himself inside your tightness, your inner walls pulsing around him.
His thrusts were hard and you were certain you'd have marks on your skin from the way he was rutting against you, a dull ache panging inside your lower half. Your mouth fell open in a constant moan as you tried to hold your body up against the table. A throb coursed through you as you tried to hold onto the edge, your breath coming out in harsh pants. You were so desperate for your release, your body so close to coming undone.
"Fuck, Sweetheart, are you going to cum?"
You mumbled out a garbled reply as he continued thrusting into you relentlessly, your fingertips digging into the table as you felt his cock dragging against your inner walls. Aaron grunted at the sensation of you clenching around him. His eyes drifted down to where your bodies were connected and watched the way his cock slid in and out of your tight cunt.
He was on the edge of his release, you could tell by the way he thrust into you desperately. You prepared yourself for your own pleasure, your hips moving involuntarily, meeting his erratic movement, as you seek more friction from him. You whimpered, feeling his fingertips dig into your skin almost painfully and you felt the familiar sensation traveling along your body. Fuck. Fuck yes. You were finally going to—
A drawn-out whine left your lips when he pulled his cock out from your tight heat. The sudden emptiness had your body shaking violently. It wasn't until you felt a streak of wetness spluttering on your back that you realized he had reached his own high without letting you reach your own.
"Shit," he gasped, slapping your ass as he watched his own liquid seeping down the curve of your back. "That was incredible."
You groaned. Fucking selfish man.
"What was that?"
It then dawned on you that you actually mumbled those words out loud. You shook your head and he groaned at your lack of words. "That didn't sound like nothing."
And suddenly, as if you weighed nothing, he grabbed onto your body and turned you over, pushing you onto your back. You were too weak to even fight him as he shoved your pants off your feet before spreading your legs apart. You watched as he leaned down and a long string of clear liquid fell from his lips toward your cunt, letting it trickle down between your folds.
"Knew you were a slut," he hissed, before straightening himself and tucking his cock back in his pants. Your eyes drifted toward him. He was big, just as big as you felt him inside you. But it wasn't his sheer size that surprised you, it was Spencer standing by your feet that had your heart peaking up its pace. Aaron smirked as he stepped back and Spencer quickly took his place between your legs.
"Look at you still holding back," Aaron taunted, genuine curiosity lacing in his voice as he paced around the room. "You're worn out. You're filthy. Aren't you tired of playing this game?"
You looked over at him tiredly. Amidst the pulsing waves of pleasure coursing through your veins, you fought to maintain your focus. "Y- You haven't done anything m-much to earn—"
His laughter sent a chill through the room. "Oh, Sweetheart, you think you're winning, but you're not." He then locked his gaze on you. "Trust me, we already have you in the palm of our hands."
You tried retorting back but the once-sharp edges of your concentration began to blur when you felt Spencer's throbbing cock right between your pussy. Each pulse of pleasure sent tremors through your resolve as he eased his hips back to drag the thick, swollen head through your outer lips. His eyes focused on the way you spread for him as though inviting him inside.
"You're already fucked out," Spencer murmured, dragging the tip of his cock through your wetness, feeling it catch against your tight entrance. "Yet look at you swallowing me."
He let the underside of his cock split your folds open, resting it between them snugly as he let out a low groan at the heat radiating from your core. The sinful noise that left your lips had his cock throbbing painfully, the thick veins protruding from his length. He angled your body against him, pushing more of his thick girth inside your trembling body, feeling the way you squeezed around him as he stretched you out.
Spencer pressed his fingers into the curve of your hips as his gaze flickered between your face and his cock splitting you apart. You gasped, your breaths growing more erratic as he managed to push all of his length inside you. He ran his hand over your abdomen as he tried to feel his cock inside you, pressing against your pelvis as he pulsed at the sensation.
"Fuck, baby," he growled, "Taking me so well."
And then he slowly dragged his cock away from you, keeping just the tip in your entrance before plunging back inside in a harsh, jarring movement, jolting you in surprise. You arched your back and tipped your head back in pleasure, just to find Aaron towering above you, looking down at you with an eerie smile.
His fingers trailed down your shoulder blades before they hovered at the buttons on your shirt, slowly unbuttoning them. "I think it's time that you give us a name."
Your body writhed in response to the waves of sensation as you tried to ground yourself. But it was hard to keep thinking straight when he grabbed onto the underlayer of your bra and lifted it over your chest. The way your perky breasts spilled out from beneath the fabric made both men hum in satisfaction.
Calloused palms grabbed onto your breasts and your eyes rolled at the back of your head at the sensation. His thumb brushed against your soft nipple, watching as it began to rise to a stiff peak as he mimicked the action on your other breast, all the while as Spencer began thrusting into your cunt at a painfully slow pace.
"Come on, Sweetheart, don't you want to cum on his cock?"
"Fuck," Spencer grunted, feeling you clench around him. "Keep talking to her."
Aaron chuckled as he continued playing with your breasts. "It's torture, isn't it?" He closed his index finger and thumb around your nipples, pinching ever so gently. You let out a soft sigh and closed your eyes as arousal flushed through you. "Give us a name and we'll give you what you want."
And then you felt Spencer rocking his hips at a steady rhythm, burying himself deeper and deeper before he slowly began increasing his speed. Your body jerked wildly each time he pushed deep into you. Noticing this, his thumb moved to your clit as he pressed messy circles against the sensitive nub, twisting it beneath his calloused pad. It felt too good, so good that you could no longer hold back from moaning out loud.
Your cries of pleasure snapped him into action and his hands moved down to your ass, holding you up to him as he started pounding harder into you. Your head fell back, chest heaving up and down, and that was when you felt Aaron closing his lips around one of your nipples. You writhed, your body thrashing underneath both men. Your senses reeling, the warmth of multiple hands on your skin sent jolts of electricity down your spine, igniting a wildfire of pleasure within you.
Aaron pulled away from you and your eyes flickered open at the loss, only to be met with Spencer hovering above you. Your eyes swept over him, and you looked down where you were joined, watching how his hips moved in constant thrusts. He was enjoying this, you could tell by the way his fingers burned your skin and the occasional grunt escaping his lips.
At the sound of his voice, you looked up at his face, glistening with a sheen of sweat while his messy hair tousling over it. The moment your gazes met each other, something inside you snapped. The muscles in your core began to coil, tightening and constricting around him right as your climax slowly pushed through the fog inside your head. Spencer felt it too, and he suddenly slowed his pace, throwing you a cunning smile.
You felt your resistance starting to crumble. The intensity of your pleasure grew almost unbearable, and you could no longer deny it. Your eyes welled with tears at the overwhelming sensation, and the thought of having your orgasm ripped again from you seemed like another torture you didn't want to endure.
You were going to regret this. You definitely would. But you couldn't dwell on the consequences of your actions when desperation coursed through you like a fever, an all-consuming hunger that you couldn't deny. Your body ached for release and craved it with an intensity that was maddening. 
Your breath came in ragged gasps, and then your eyes, wide and filled with desperation, pleaded with him silently as you found yourself finally giving in, muttering a name you had tried to keep to yourself. A name involved in the crime these men had been pestering you for. A name that had Aaron smirking devilishly as he leaned over to you, brushing his knuckles on your cheek in a caress that was so foreign.
"Good girl," he mumbled, his voice lacing with satisfaction at the way you finally crumbled. He was right, you were already in the palms of their hands, it was simply a matter of time until you caved in. "Good fucking girl."
Once you surrendered, you couldn't stop the whine falling through your lips. Your desperate moan rang deeply in the room, snapping something primal inside Spencer, and he trusted his hips into you roughly. A gasp escaped your lips, legs falling open wider as he split you wider than you already were.
Your mind went absolutely numb with pleasure as he kept rutting up inside you, your body becoming nothing more than a mess, overtaken by a wave of sweat and erotic bliss. You felt yourself trembling, your breathing becoming more ragged as his thrusts became sloppier.
“Fucking hell,” he grunted, noticing the way your mouth fell open as pleasure engulfed you. "That's it, baby, let me fuck you dumb."
You cried out, babbling incoherent sentences as he thrust harder, grabbing your hips and tilting into you slightly, making him go even deeper as he moved with you.
"Go on, cum on my cock," he growled breathlessly through his rapid pounding. "Let me feel you."
“Fuck—” You cried out for him, your overstimulated body shaking beneath him. Wave after wave of pleasure came rushing through your body, erupting in the most intense way. He watched the way you convulsed beneath him in your release, watching the way a white, sticky liquid circled his cock every time his skin brushed your inner walls. His thumb was unrelenting against your clit and you tried to angle your body away from his touch, the pleasure too intense as your lower half throbbed around him.
You continued to clench around him between your bliss, your legs trembling from the position as he arched his back, focusing the power of his thrusts straight into your tightness. A shiver burst through you at the sensation. And with one final thrust, his whole body tensed. He pushed forward, burying his cock in your soft, warm cunt, spreading his warmth in much slower and shallow rolls of his hips.
You were breathing hard, trying to regain your composure, and a moan left your lips when he finally pulled out. Cringing at the fluid slowly leaking out of you, you tried to close your legs only to be stopped as he gripped the back of your thighs, spreading your legs apart to expose your body. You were so wonderfully disheveled, your cunt clenching around nothing, gleaming with your arousal and his own release.
“Look at the mess you made." Piercing eyes watched you as white liquid trickled down your ass. A feeble mewl left your lips as his thick fingers moved down to catch it, deliberately pressing against your folds as you wriggled in his grasp. A laugh left his lips as he dragged the string of wetness along your sex, pushing it back inside you.
"I think I ruined her."
Aaron's laughter filled the room, and just as you were about to push yourself off the table, you felt him grasping both of your hands, pushing them above your head. Your eyes widened in shock. "Wh-what are you doing?"
Then you felt it, the cool metal wrapped around your wrist, sinking into the flesh of your skin as you tried to move from his grip. An unexpected panic surged within you. "Sweetheart, we know you're involved in more than one crime." The soft click of the metal lock was loud in your ears. "You need to give us more names."
Your body, still tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure, now felt more exposed than ever. You looked up to find both men staring down at you, and at very moment, you realized, as you felt the handcuffs digging into your wrist, that you were going to be here for a very long time.
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cryptidghostgirl · 2 months
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hiii can i request a silly little scene i have in my head? ok so!
alastor x wife! reader- theyve been together since they were alive, legit partners in crime they both encouraged eachother to kill and when they reunited in hell after around 8 years they were independent once again UNTIL They got in trouble with Lilith and she took reader to be like her slave until Alastor finished helping Charie with her dream (until he helped prove that demons can be redeemed) so they didnt see each other for another 7 years (his absence)
And all throughout the first season hes like “I miss my wife, Husk. I miss her a lot” (while drunk-) like that one sonic dub meme and starts shaping his shadow creature into reader and talking to it and everyone is like “m yep he’s officially lost it.”
BUT then Sir Pentious is redeemed and Lilith sees and shes like “damn :/“ and send reader to the new hotel via portal and reader just. falls on the ground in front of the big entrance and everyone hears it and they rush out and Alastor is quiet, wide eyed and reader goes smth like “i know- i shouldnt have accepted it in your name but-“ blah blah she rambles on about it and Alastor just goes “Youre as beautiful as the day I los you.” LIKE THAT HEARYBREAKING SCENE FROM HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 2 ;-; and everyone reacts in their own way
I REALLY NEED THIS BUT I LACK THE ABILITIES TO DO IT HEEELP (love u)
A/N oh bestie,, i got you. I was actually planning on something similar where Alastor was getting drunk at a bar and talking about the love of his life (I'm still gonna write that one too but I really like this prompt!!) You guys really come up with the best requests, please keep sending them in.
Fuel and the Fire (Alastor x Wife!Partner-in-Crime!Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: ANGST also bad words (idk why i wrote the warnings like this). Also Angel Dust is in this one and I love him but he is a warning on his own.
Word Count: 2,392
Master Lists:
Master Lists 
Hazbin Hotel Master List
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Alastor and Y/n, partners in crime, the fuel and the fire. On a first glance, it would be assumed she was his fuel, the coal and dry leaves he fed himself by. Once anyone got to know them -- and god, what trouble a person was in if they got to know them -- they quickly realized it was the other way around.
Hand in hand from day one, from childhood. Running from the cops, washing the blood off one another's faces. In the living world and life after death, nothing could tear them apart. He was the soil she planted herself in, he was her rock and Y/n? Well she was Alastor's everything. He'd do anything at all for her, all she had to do was ask.
For a decade, they terrified the living world. They were the reason to double check the lock on the door before bed, they were the ominous shadow at the corner. When cold death wrapped them in his reckless grasp, they turned their terror on Hell.
The pair made a name for themselves quickly, filling up the airwaves and making waves in the underworld. For generations, they reigned supreme. For generations, they knew no fear. Then one day, they simply disappeared.
When Alastor reappeared on the streets seven years later without his shadow, the town was alight with gossip. No one knew where he had been, where she still was, or why he had returned but Alastor quickly rebuilt his operation, setting up shop at Lucifer's daughter's Hazbin Hotel along with several of the souls he owned.
The hotel's other residents and workers were distrustful of the man, to say the least. He was shifty, wore a constant smile, and rumors circled around him like birds of prey. That was until about three months into his stay, at least.
Angel hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He'd been coming down to the bar for a drink and a rant of his own when he'd heard the familiar, crackling voice of the Hotel's host.
"I just... I miss her so much, Husk."
He sounded sad, utterly dejected. Angel crouched down on the staircase, hiding his slim body behind one of the ornate posts supporting the railing.
"You keep saying that but do nothing to go find her. She disappeared the same time as you, you know." came Husk's gruff reply.
"I know she did."
"You keep saying that, acting like you know something. Admit it: you don't know shit, Alastor."
Alastor's radio waves faltered, squeaking slightly. Angel tensed in terror, wondering if he'd been found out. This was clearly a private conversation, and the Radio Demon was testy at the best of times. Right now he seemed positively furious.
"Don't test me, Husk." Alastor said after a moment, breaking the tense silence, "She... we both got roped into something. I am doing my part, she is doing hers."
Angel straightened himself up, deciding it was high time he entered the room. He still wanted that drink, after all. He let his feet fall heavily on the stairs, alerting the others to his presence. Husk turned toward the sound, meeting Angel's eyes as he entered the bar. Alastor, on the other hand, kept his back to the spider demon.
Taking a seat beside Alastor, Husk immediately poured Angel a drink and slid it across the counter towards him.
"So, tough night, Smiles?" Angel asked, turning to Alastor who downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp.
"I don't know what you're talking about, my good fellow." Alastor hummed in response.
There was a threat in his voice, but Angel could tell the demon's heart wasn't in it. Everything was just, odd.
"Yeah... sure..." Angel scoffed, taking a sip of his own drink.
"Radio man was crying to me about his wife five seconds ago." Husk grumbled and Angel's eyes went wide.
"You have a wife?" he asked, turning back to Alastor, "I mean, I get it. I'm in to the whole 'tall dark and creepy' thing too but, you care about someone? I don’t know if I can see it.”
Alastor's eyes narrowed as he turned on Husk. The cat demon rolled his eyes in a brazen display of disrespect. He knew his master well, knew this was the only thing he had any leverage with the man on. With a deep breath, Alastor placed his hands firmly on the bar top and pulled himself to his feet. Not saying another word, he disappeared into his shadows.
That had been the first odd occurrence. Of course Angel had told Charlie and Charlie had told everyone, had even approached Alastor about it. The Radio Demon brushed it all off with skill and for a while, things were quiet.
About a month later, the second strange thing began happening. Alastor had always had a certain sway over shadows, everyone knew that. However, he very rarely used them, brought them out if it wasn't to hide him or take him where he needed to be. Then, suddenly, one began to follow him.
"Uh, Alastor?" Charlie had timidly approached him the first time she saw this happening.
"Yes, Charlie my dear?" Alastor asked, turning to face her as he tossed his microphone in the air, catching it neatly in the center of the stand.
"Well, we were just wondering if everything was... okay?" she asked, her hands behind her back and a pointed gaze on the shadow.
"If everything..." Alastor trailed off, following the path of Charlie's gaze and realizing what was going on, "No, no my dear. Everything is quite all right, quite alright indeed."
"Well, okay... If you say so." Charlie had relented after a few moments, unsure of what else to do.
Eventually, the members of the Hazbin Hotel grew used to the shadows, they too slipped out of their minds. Overcome with impending doom of the extermination just a month away, Alastor's strange behavior was no longer a priority.
That had been until the third odd occurrence came into being. It was Sir Pentious who had noticed it first, drawing it to the group's attention as Alastor walked through the lobby and past the group doing trust exercises there on his way to some meeting or another with the other overlords.
"Sir Pentious?" Charlie had called, trying to bring him back to earth as he watched the place Alastor had occupied, "Sir Pentious?"
"Pentious!" Vaggie yelled and his head snapped to her, "You're not coming up with some new plan to attack Alastor, are you?"
"No!" he quickly exclaimed, waving his hands frantically in the air, "Not at all just..."
"What?" Vaggie asked through gritted teeth, advancing a step forward, her spear in hand.
"It's just... doesn't that shadow Alastor has had following him well.... doesn't it kind of look like a woman?"
Husk broke out into wild laughter while Angel widened his eyes.
"Oh, he's definitely lost it now." Husk exclaimed as he calmed himself, clutching his stomach, "If I knew Y/n was the secret to breaking him down, I woulda done something about it years ago."
"No you wouldn't have, ya big talker." Angel teased, elbowing the cat demon lightly.
"Y/n?" Sir Pentious asked.
"Alastor's wife. That was her name." Husk replied.
"Did you know her?" Charlie asked.
Alastor had left the hotel, the threat that had held their questions at bay for months was gone and the topic was right. Husk nodded.
"So, what's she like?" Angel asked suggestively, "Is she more of a dom? Does deer boy like to get dicked down by his lady?"
"Gross." Charlie shook her head, her hands to her temples, "I do not want to know that."
"She's a good kid." Husk said after a moment, "She's nice..."
He trailed off.
"But?" Vaggie prompted, sensing there was more that he wanted to say.
Husk sighed.
"If you think Alastor is trouble, she's a fucking house fire set for the insurance money."
"So probably not interested in being a guest." Charlie dejectedly stated.
Husk shrugged.
"You never know. It has been seven years since anyone has seen her. Alastor allegedly knows where she's at but, he hasn't gone after her. Just keeps whining to me about it so, I don't know. Maybe she's changed. I doubt it though. Sweet as a pea, sharp as a knife."
Charlie had never felt such relief as when she learned Alastor had not died in the chaos of the battle. The hotel was destroyed, heaven was pissed, Sir Pentious had died but, at least he was alright. They rebuilt the hotel, Alastor's same shadow of a woman trailing after him wherever he went. After about a week, thanks to all the angelic and demonic powers involved in the construction, the new Hotel was finished.
It was just as they put the finishing touches on the place, hung the portrait of Sir Pentious they'd commissioned above the fire place, that a portal opened in the lobby. Everyone tensed, banding together behind Charlie and Alastor. Angels were coming, they were sure of it.
A crash echoed from the other side, a sharp yell and then something tumbled through the portal. With a flash, the portal disappeared behind the shape of a person huddled on the floor. She coughed violently.
Alastor's eyes went wide. Everyone else was too distracted to notice, but if they'd have been paying attention, they would have seen his shadow disappear.
The girl was filthy, her clothes torn and her hair tangled. She let out another, sharp cough before slowly lifting her head. Alastor took a trembling step forward.
"Y/n?" he asked, his voice soft in disbeleif.
A smile, wide and sharp, split the woman's bruised face in two.
"Hey hun, I'm home."
In a flash, he was at her side, helping her to her feet, checking her for wounds.
"Jesus, Y/n." he sighed, "You're a mess."
"I know."
"Y/n-"
"I know. I shouldn't have done it, you don't need to lecture me. I didn't have a choice. It was you or me, Al. I couldn't... I can't... I had to. You've gotta understand."
"Sweetheart-"
Y/n cut him off again, her speech a single, constant, stressed-out stream.
"It was stupid, I know. I know. I really do but, she gave me the option and I couldn't say no cause then if I said no you'd really be the one in trouble a-"
Alastor raised a hand gently to her cheek and Y/n's words caught in her throat. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes at last.
"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."
His voice was soft, so quiet the others could barely hear him. Y/n's cheeks flushed a bright pink. Her hands found the lapels of his jacket, holding them lightly.
"I.." she stuttered, her mind racing.
With a sigh and a slight shake of her head, she gave up in the search for words and buried herself in his chest. Alastor wrapped his arms around Y/n, pressing her tightly into his frame.
"God, I missed you." she said, her voice muffled by the fabric.
Alastor pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
"I love you." she continued, "I'm so sorry."
Alastor pulled her off of him, leaning down the slightest bit so they were eye to eye. Y/n, wiped a stray tear away, letting out a slight, sad laugh. Alastor's eyes traversed her face, caressing every crevasse.
"I'm so glad your alright but, I don't understand." he said at last, "How are you back? The deal..."
Y/n nodded and Alastor's eyes went wider still. Leaning on Alastor's shoulder for support, she turned her eyes onto the rest of the group.
"You must be Charlie." she hummed softly, meeting the young demon's gaze.
Taking a deep breath, Charlie stepped forward and nodded.
"Yes, I am. I run the Hazbin Hotel, which is where you are, to help rehabilitate sinners."
"I know." Y/n nodded, her voice quavering slightly, "I've heard so much about you. You... my dear, it worked."
"I- what?" every other question died in Charlie's throat, shock shot through her body like a bullet.
"It worked." Y/n confirmed, "You did it. I had a deal, a deal which Alastor went to your side to get me out of. If you succeeded in redeeming a soul with his aid, I would be free. And here I am."
"Here you are." Alastor repeated, spinning Y/n to face him once again.
She wobbled unsteadily on her feet. Catching sight of this along with the numerous wounds all over her body, Alastor scooped Y/n up into his arms like he did when they had first been married, when they had crossed the first threshold together. Y/n looped her arms around his neck, exhaustion seeping in with the relief as she let her head fall on his chest.
"Vaggie..." Charlie began as she turned to her girlfriend, "you don't think..."
"Pentious?" Vaggie asked and Charlie nodded.
"It's gotta be." Angel confirmed.
"You did good, kid." Husk smiled, patting Charlie on the back.
Y/n raised her head at the sound of a familiar voice, her eyes opening.
"Husker?" she asked with a smile.
The cat demon stepped forward, bowing slightly.
"Husker! I-"
"Enough of that, my love." Alastor cut her off, tapping her nose gently, "You need a shower and some rest. You can meet everyone in the morning."
Y/n crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes as she looked up at her husband.
"Promise?"
"Yes, I promise." he sighed.
"Does that mean you're staying?" Charlie asked tentatively and the couple turned to her.
"Whatever the little lady desires." Alastor stated, looking back down at his wife in a lovestruck daze.
"Yes, Charlie. We're staying." Y/n laughed, "Things need to start changing around here and I don't see anyone else doing a god damn thing to make that happen except for you."
"I.." Charlie was speechless, the kindness this fear inspiring woman was directing towards her, having never met her before. What Husk had said made sense, she smiled, "Thank you. I don't know what you did, but that you both so much."
"Anything for my favorite girl." Alastor kissed Y/n softly.
"Oh, get a room." Angel scoffed, rolling his eyes.
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feyascorner · 1 month
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Postgame!Spawn!Astarion…
Postgame!Astarion who outright tosses out all the letters from across Faerun requesting the great hero of Baldur’s Gate for their own problems. Any letters addressed with anything other than your name is immediately chucked into a trash bin sitting idly by the front door just for that purpose. You’ve given up on telling him it’s okay—that you're alright with helping out once in a while. But he’s adamant, fussing as he refuses to allow you to drag yourself back into another insufferably long adventure when you deserve to rest. He drags you away from the bin back to your shared bed that he finds awfully comfortable.
Postgame!Astarion who takes up a lot of hobbies with his newfound freedom from his master—some of which escalate into full blown businesses. His hobby of perfuming, for one, alongside his skills in sewing. He only makes things for you in the beginning, but when other ladies begin to take notice of your alluring scent and beautiful garments of clothing, they rush to ask you of its source. But since he can't stand out in broad daylight, you take down note of everyone’s measurements and act as the middle man. He never actually meets his customers, but he likes to give each of them personalities in his head based on what they want. They're scary accurate.
Postgame!Astarion who still sleeps with his dagger close by. He doesn't need it to be under his pillow as it used to be, but he keeps it in the drawer beside his bed. He knows he has no use for it anymore, but knowing he has some form of defense lets him sleep a little lighter.
Postgame!Astarion who practically clings to you on mornings you have to leave for daylight, hoping you'll give up on whatever plans you had and just come back to bed. You do listen more often than you'd like to admit. But on days when you manage to pry him off your waist, he's extremely dramatic about it. When you return home, he has a frown on his face, arms crossed and perched on the couch like a mother waiting for her teenage daughter to return from a late night party. He huffs for a couple minutes as you change into something more comfortable. But when you kiss his forehead, asking if he wants to go out on a walk, he’s all grins and smugness again.
Postgame!Astarion who never falls asleep before you, opting to watch your breathing instead since it's not like he needs to sleep anyway. He confirms you're here. He confirms you're real. He confirms he’s not dreaming, and that he won't snap awake in a few moments to the cell in Cazador’s palace.
Postgame!Astarion who adopts/cares for the cat you bring home one day. He says he hates the damn thing, but you can tell they're the closest of friends just a few months in. He makes his newfound friend a fresh wardrobe to match his own. When you question him about it, he gets flustered and scoffs, spitting out nothing but hatred for the cat but having them sit on his lap.
Postgame!Astarion who worries. He worries that you'll be taken away from him. He worries his past will come bite him in the ass and take the payment for his crimes in the form of his very lover. He knows you'll die, while he continues to traverse the realms as a faceless entity. But he doesn't even want to think about that right now. He's more concerned you won't have as much time as possible at his side. When will you leave? When will you tire of him? When will the universe decide he no longer deserves you—or maybe he never deserved you in the first place. Does it even matter? Maybe—maybe this was all just temporary, and—
He feels you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. And here, he decides he doesn't want to spend the time he does have with you worrying over something that hasn't happened. That's a bridge to be crossed some other time. And by then, he's sure he’ll do anything to keep what remains of the sun in his life.
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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Danny is desperately running away. Not from a robber, they’re not much of a threat to him anyways, but from a really intense Batman.
“Oh my ancients,” he muttered as he sprinted away from the dude swinging above him. “Can you please go away?! I already paid you back, dude!” Danny raised his voice at the swooping figure above him. He wished he could go ghost, but that would break his cover so fast as a “meta” or whatever.
“Stop running,” Batman landed in front of him, growl reverberating around them.
“Stop chasing me then! It’s bad manners!” And Danny’s from the midwest, so that’s an actual concern.
“How did you find Two-Face?” Batman loomed before stepping back when Danny’s shoulders curled inwards.
“Oh. Is that what this is all about?” Danny huffed. “It was self defense! And… the pun was too good to not, you know? Yeah, no, I had to. Prime opportunity.”
The cowl might hide it but Danny always knew when people are doing that nose pinch of exasperation. It’s a talent he carefully cultivated through shenanigans and puns.
Batman? Definitely inwardly pinching the bridge of his nose.
“How did you find him? Harvey Dent is a dangerous criminal.”
“In my defense,” Danny started, like a teenager caught guiltily shoving the entire cookie jar into his room instead of leaving some for the rest of the family. “He found me first. Well, no, he found the kids first. He started it!”
Batman somehow raised an eyebrow. How the hell does he do that?? The cowl covered the entire upper half of his face! Danny squinted at him. Is Batman a meta?
“Listen, I didn’t start it, but my sister sure as heck taught me how to end it. It’s not my fault Dent couldn’t handle a beat down. And I told you I was gonna pay you back for that one (1) Big Dent! If you wanted cash, you should have said so!”
“Hrm.”
Maybe it was the fancy gear. Maybe it was the pointy head thing. Batman reminded Danny way too much of Vlad and he got the ick.
“Okay, well, good talk, bye!” Danny ducked and ran, faster than he had before.
Batman grappled up and forward, trying to grab him. Danny, with years of dodge training under his belt and impeccable teenage instincts of gtfo, managed to dodge Batman’s reaching hands with a hollered “OPE!”
“Bye! See you never!” Danny ducked behind an alley and turned invisible as Batman swooped past.
When he was sure the vigilante was gone, he slowly faded into the visible spectrum.
“Jeez. Better warn Amy about this. Maybe I should hide in Crime Alley until this blows past.”
——
Gotham’s underbelly had a new tale to sling around their bars that week and a new demographic to be wary of.
The Terrors, the kiddie gang that ran perpendicular to Crime alley, was preyed on by Harvey Dent.
“What do you think you’re doing to them?!”
“Ahhhhhh!!!” Harvey screamed, flailing as a creature of shadows and claws- god damn those sharp ass claws- descended upon him, scarring it just one side but both sides of his very vulnerable face!
“Back the hell off of my kids, you fashion reject!”
As for Harvey… well, he’s developed an aversion to the smell of peanut butter and small children.
——
Batman, hunting down Danny because he’s worried about the endangered meta kid: you left me a Dent.
Danny, because he sees a vigilante bum rushing him: I have no cash! That’s the only way I can pay you back rn!
——
Batman, trying to lecture Danny about safety because he’s a worried batdad:
Danny: ew a rich stalker trying to be my dad!
@tricksterwitchkat can you tell I’ve been thinking about your pun for days? This is for you, thank you so much for that pun, it made my entire week.
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horang-07 · 6 months
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FNAF SPOILERS! SCROLL! TALKING ABOUT THE SPRINGLOCK SCENE!
i’ve seen so many people discussing the springlock scene in both negative and positive ways and i think it brings up really cool points about how matthew played that scene and balanced fan expectations with his own characterisation.
i think the discussions around this movie have rlly exposed the disconnect between fanon and canon in fnaf, especially talking abt the core games in isolation, bc frankly in the game universe (ignoring the books) we get Very Little characterisation for William other than the obvious, but Matthew managed to add so much in the way he talks and his body language.
in the reveal scene, we see afton at arguably his peak. in his first scene, he comes off as somewhat demeaning and judgemental until he recognises mike’s name, at which point he seems to have this nervous energy, rushing to cover it up but stumbling slightly, his reaction to the tables being turned even slightly is massive.
this is a man who committed multiple mrdrs in essentially broad daylight, hid the bodies in the most obvious place, and still got away with it, and then kept the crime scene as a trophy of his actions, and an ongoing prison sentence for his victims. he has been in complete control for decades, and is confident that he can deal with any kind of threat quickly. his confidence in his reveal is palpable
it changes when vanessa shoots him. the whole parallel with vanessa and the animatronics is hugely interesting too- how william refers to the animatronics almost endearingly as “kids” when he wants them to obey, how both vanny and the animatronics have an unearned loyalty to him, almost a pseudo-adoption through what he did to them, taking them from their parents and keeping them under his thumb, forever stuck as naive, forgiving, obedient children. vanessa breaking from that control shakes him, but the mask slips back into place almost immediately.
then, he’s outsmarted by the brother of one of his victims, and the child he planned to end next. his pseudo-children turn on him and he can no longer manipulate his appearance or shed his skin to escape. he explodes on them, and his language is incredibly telling that he is being dishonest.
he calls them small, trying to belittle them into submission, even though they are ten feet tall metal animatronics powered by rage. he is grasping at straws to regain control, and failing miserably.
finally, the springlocks go off. the locks in the movie look more like a ribcage, so the first two likely puncture his lungs. they’re slow, and painful, but he doesn’t scream or beg or sob. he grunts and groans, gritting his teeth and only letting out sounds of pain that sound almost involuntary. there is no way in hell he would visibly let himself show weakness or pain in front of these creatures that he believes he has control over. he isn’t brought to his knees until there are eight metal spikes embedded in his abdomen. he doesn’t let the mask fall for even a second, until he literally PUTS THE ACTUAL MASK ON and finally collapses. even then, he’s fighting for consciousness, twitching and writhing with no control over his body. william afton thrives on control, and his soul will not rest until he gets it back.
it’s why he keeps the pizzeria- he always comes back. he can’t help but return to the scene of the crime, putting on his old costume, continuing his killings. he revels in being a constant threat on the horizon. and now, he knows he is going to die, and he knows the suit will bring him back, and noone will be able to get rid of him then. so he puts the mask back on, and waits.
in terms of the sfx- they’re pretty accurate. with stab wounds, you need to leave the knife in the wound as long as possible for best chance of survival, as it stops the blood from escaping. in terms of the springlocks, there wouldn’t be copious amounts of blood as the locks are keeping the wounds filled- which is good because it means a slower, more painful death.
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wandaromanoffroses · 2 months
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"Isn't she gorgeous?"
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
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Requested
Warnings: 18+ content, breast sucking, fingering (R receiving), orgasm denial, strap-on use (R receiving), cock-sucking, vaginal sex, degrading, praising, profanity
Summary: Your husband, Steve Rogers, has been romantically and sexually starving you ever since he became an Avenger. After borrowing money from notorious crime leader, Natasha Romanoff, she breaks into your house to get what she's owed. However, when she finds you, his gorgeous wife innocently asleep next to him, you catch her interest and her plans change instantly.
Pairings: top dom!Natasha Romanoff x bottom sub!reader, Steve Rogers x Reader (nothing romantic or sexual happens)
Trigger Warnings: blood, gun wound, reference to implied SA (blink and you'll miss it).
“Y/n?” you nearly sent the plate in your hand flying to the floor, dropping it into the washing bowl before spinning around to see your husband in the doorway. You shook your head, sure that your eyes were deceiving you. He was never here even when he promised, never mind three weeks early. 
“Steve,” you said, drying your hands and rushing over to him but before you could pull him into a hug, he caught a hold of your shoulders to stop you. His touch sent a stab of pain into your chest and you were snapped back to reality, falling away from the lingers of a past moment you had momentarily forgotten wasn’t your present. You straightened your figure and took a step back, looking up at the man that had once been the light of your life, a guide in the darkness, someone special to share all the good with but now, he could’ve been a stranger.
You had been married for three years, together for five and the first few years would be the most treasured moments of your life. But ever since he had become an Avenger, it had consumed his sole purpose. 
Steve was always out fighting, carving his mark, making the world proud of his heroism while you stayed at home doing chores and completing mindless activities to pass the time. There was once a time where you could’ve sworn you saw Universes in his eyes. Now, his skin had been drained of colour and his eyes were rimmed with red as if he were a ghost that was forever cursed to haunt his loved ones. “What are you doing here?” you quizzed.
“I’m sorry," he said, bowing his head, “I’ve got into a bit of trouble, I wanted to make sure you were safe.” You frowned. 
“What trouble?” you questioned, “is there a villain after you? Can’t the Avengers help you?” You didn’t even bother hiding the bitterness in my voice. They were clearly everything he ever needed, what use were you to him? He sighed.
“Not exactly,” he said, “we should probably sit down.” You followed him into the dining room with caution in your steps, not taking your eyes off him. The walls were a fading, off-white, elaborate flowers twisted between leaves and detailed patterns, wooden panelling running along across the bottom. The light fixture in the centre was brass with three upturned light bulbs, the dining tables and chairs a polished rosewood. Steve had wanted the room like this because it reminded him of his Grandmother. It was awkward to clean and there was always a build of dust in here. You took a seat opposite him.
“What’s going on?” you said. He scratched the back of his neck.
“I know what you’re going to think but… alright I’ll just tell you. I took out a loan from someone a bit dodgy and I haven’t quite paid them back.” You raised an eyebrow.
“What’s ‘haven’t quite’ supposed to mean?” you said, raising your voice. 
“I haven’t paid them back, okay?” he exclaimed, “look, all I wanted to do was buy you a new house, I wanted to make you happy since you hate this one so much. I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to spoil my girl.” Generosity – the easiest attainable remedy for guilt.
“Well, I see something wrong with borrowing money you can’t pay back, especially from somebody that can put you and other people in danger,” you said, pushing yourself onto your feet, “what were you thinking Steve?” He slammed his fists onto the table and you jumped, your heart thumping against your ribcage.
“Listen, I thought I would have the money by now. It’s not my fault I can’t see into the future, you know I wouldn’t have even thought about it if I knew.” You closed your eyes, exhaling a long breath, trying to keep your composure. There were a hundred things you wanted to say to him right now but it wasn’t worth it. You either lived in peace or chaos; either way, nothing changed. 
“I thought I knew a lot of things about you but they turned out to all be wrong,” you said, “so I don’t know anymore. Nothing you do surprises me.” You stormed back into the kitchen, not wanting him to waste anymore of your time. You had dishes to do and by now, the water would’ve gone cold. 
“Y/n, come on. You haven’t seen me in three months and this is how you’re going to treat me?”
“I have dishes to do,” you said, picking up the plate you had dropped before, polishing it until it shone in the dim light peeking through the curtains, “someone has to keep the house clean.” And clearly, it wasn’t going to him. You felt a firm hand on my shoulder and all the muscles in your body tensed.
“I know you’re mad at me.” You scoffed. Mad wasn’t the right word – it was an array of messy emotions tangled together that had been fraying for years. There was more than just anger here, that was just an old friend that had withered and grown back into something much more cruel now. “Just please… let me make it up to you. I could die on a mission one day you know, you never know when one of these moments could be our last.” He had tried guilt tripping you before – it was a simple yet effective way of shifting blame onto the other person to ease your conscience. These games were getting so predictable. 
“And I’d be the last one to know,” you said, “maybe if I was lucky, I’d see it on the news.” You placed the last plate on the drying rack, emptying the washing-up bowl before walking away to leave him standing in the kitchen, alone. 
..........................................................................
You had avoided Steve as if he were the plague for the rest of the evening, only tolerating him in the same room as you when you went to give him his dinner. If you were nothing but his little housewife, you may as well play the part and poke it in his face. While you were getting ready for bed, you had paused by his chest of drawers, remembering the divorce papers you had hidden beneath the shirts he had outgrown or didn’t like anymore. Most of them had been bought by you and you could recall a memory with your husband in every single one. Maybe another day.
You couldn’t sleep but you kept your eyes tight shut when you heard him enter and move around the bedroom. Why didn’t you just sleep in the living room?, you thought as he slipped under the covers beside you. You figured he’d probably leave before you were awake so in his mind, you wouldn't even know. Dickhead. You didn’t know how much time had passed but you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you see is blinding white.
“Steve, turn the lights off…” You let out a scream when a gunshot sounded through the room, colliding with your husband’s cry of pain. Your eyes flew open and immediately fell on the figure standing at the end of your bed, her ravishing, blood-soaked hair curled onto her shoulder, her eyes glittering with shattered pieces of jade. Your heart seemed to freeze in your chest. Natasha Romanoff – the most notorious leader of crime in the world. And she was here, in your bedroom. 
You turned to Steve and let out a strangled sob, the sight of scarlet soaking into the bed sheets making you dizzy. You heard the click of heels behind you and Natasha took a fistful of your nightgown before you could even process what was happening, pulling you away from him as if you were a mere feather. You screamed again and if it wasn’t for her strong grip on you, you would’ve collapsed to the ground.
She waited until you were steady enough to stand on your own two feet, gripping your hips and pulling you flush against her body. She was wearing a dress that emphasised all her curves and showcased most of her skin, your body flooding with dread. This woman was able to shoot Captain America without any protective clothing like it was nothing. There was no way out of this situation. We were doomed. I felt something hard in her crotch area, confused as to why she was carrying such a bulky item in her pockets.
“Leave her alone,” Steve whispered, his voice faint and overshadowed by anguish. 
“Get on the floor and don’t say another word unless I ask you a question or she’ll have to watch you die,” she snapped, “neither of us want that to happen, do we?” With resentment, he hobbled away from the bed, stumbling over to the wall and sliding himself down it, his hand clutched to the gun wound in his stomach. “Good.” She ran a finger down your cheek before beginning to trace your features, her head tilted to the side. “You didn’t tell anyone you had a wife, Rogers. Isn’t she gorgeous?” You shivered in her hold, her voice low and seductive. “What’s your name, pretty?”
“Y-Y/n,” you trembled, wishing you could strangle the butterflies in your stomach that her touch had provoked. This was insanity – she had just shot your husband and she was threatening to murder him yet she was making you nervous, in a romantic way. God, if only Natasha wasn’t so beautiful, this would be a whole lot easier. 
“Y/n Rogers?” she said, giving you a fake pout, “that doesn’t sound very nice, does it? Y/n Romanoff has a much nicer ring to it.” A crease formed between your eyebrows. What the hell was she implying? “Rogers, I’m willing to strike up a deal with you. But first, I’m going to fuck your wife until the only name she’ll remember is mine.” His eyes widened in horror and you let out a cry. 
“Natasha, that’s assault. You can’t,” Steve said. She smirked.
“Oh there won’t be any need for that,” she said, “it won’t take much for her to beg me for more.” She pushed you down onto the bed and straddled your lap, a pool of wetness already forming between your legs. This was so fucked up. “Give me consent and I’ll make you feel so good baby, better than you’ve ever felt. All you have to do is say the word.” 
You considered all your options but it didn’t take you long to decide since you only had two. You either let Natasha fuck you or you watched Steve die. You could treat it like a one night stand, you thought. You had never experienced one yourself but you’d read it in books so surely you would be able to do it.
Though you knew deep down, part of you wanted this. You were desperately touch starved and the thought of Natasha fucking you made you groan, heat rushing to your cheeks as the sound escape your mouth. You nodded and she gripped your jaw.
“Words bitch.”
“Yes,” you said, looking away from her in shame but she forced you to look back at her.
“Good girl,” Natasha said, lowering herself onto you and colliding her lips with yours, setting all your nerves alight. Her lips felt like velvet against your own, melting against you and setting a slow pace, letting you get used to the sensation. You couldn’t remember the last time Steve had kissed you, never mind like this. 
When your hand moved to her chest, she knew she’d won and she began kissing you with more passion, her teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You gasped and she took the opportunity to slip her tongue between the gap in your teeth. You didn’t even bother fighting against her, wanting Natasha to take full control and use you however she pleased. 
She separated your lips and began kissing your neck, her teeth ruthless against your skin as she began to mark you, leaving a trail of garnet blotches that would be seen by everyone. “Tell him how much you like this.” As much as you wished it wasn’t true, you were very much enjoying this. It was a terrible thing to admit to your husband but you had to remind yourself that his life was at stake here.
“I love it, I love being marked by you,” you said, “please don’t stop.” She pulled away when she reached your chest, reaching down and taking hold of your nightgown. 
“Can I take this off angel?”
“Please,” you said, ignoring that Steve was in the same room as you. You wanted this, you needed this, you hadn’t had sex in so long. Too long. She lifted herself off your waist for a few moments so she could discard you of your nightgown before continuing her path down your chest, stopping right before she reached your breasts. 
“So beautiful,” Natasha said before taking one of your nipples between her fingers and rolling it, earning her your loudest groan yet. She began to fondle the other roughly and the pain was soon replaced with pleasure that went straight in between your legs. You were a moaning mess beneath her, your forehead glistening with sweat and your breaths loud and sharp. “Listen to that, Rogers. Does she make these sweet, sweet noises for you? Do you Y/n? Tell me.”
“No,” I said, “only for you.” She tutted.
“Oh sweetheart, he doesn’t deserve you,” she said, “it’s okay, I’m going to take care of you now.” She ran her hands down your stomach and attached her mouth to your hardened nipple, your mind unable to decide what to concentrate on. She slipped her fingers beneath your panties and began snapping it against your skin, causing you to start bucking your hips into her. 
“I need you,” you said. You expected her to make you wait but her expression softened as she began sliding your panties down your legs, throwing them in Steve’s direction. “Look how she ruined them for me. If you weren’t so neglectful, this could’ve been you, Rogers. Don’t you ever forget that.” You gasped as the palm of her hand pressed against your cunt, brushing against your swollen clint. “So wet.”
“Natasha, please…”
“Beg,” she said, running her fingers through your folds and collecting your arousal, “let him hear you.”
“Please Natasha,” you said, “I need you to fuck me so bad. I need you inside of me, please make me cum.” Your words made her groan and you whimpered as you felt her push two fingers inside of you, giving you only a few seconds to adjust before she began thrusting in and out of you at a quickened pace. You felt a burning sting, grabbing her wrist to try and slow her down. “Nat, it’s too much, it hurts.” 
“What do you mean sweetie? Does he have a small cock?” There was a cruel glint in her eye when the realisation dawned on her. “He hasn’t fucked you in a longtime has he? How long has it been?” You were struggling to form coherent sentences at this point.
“Six months,” you admitted. He visited so little and he was always exhausted when he did, hardly even giving you any affection, never mind fulfilling your physical needs. You had shamefully been trying to fuck yourself for over a year now but you were either too embarrassed to keep at it for long or you were eventually forced to give up, too inexperienced to make yourself cum. You had never used more than one finger so you weren’t used to the stretch at all.
“You’re telling me your husband had access to this cunt anytime he wanted but he chose not to fuck you for half a year?” What a waste of such a perfect pussy,” she said, “shh, it’s okay, it’ll feel so good in a minute.” As if to prove her point, porn-worthy moans began to spill from your mouth as you were drowned in overwhelming bliss. She knew she had found that one spot inside of you when your noises became more intense and more wetness gushed from your entrance, the squelches of your arousal echoing around the room. You took fistfuls of the duvet beneath you in your hands, your walls began to clench around her fingers. But just before you reached your high, Natasha slipped her fingers out of you.
“No,” you cried, “I was so close.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.
“Not just yet,” she said, “I want you to cum on my cock.” You blinked up at her in confusion, not understanding what she meant. Was she perhaps intersex? “Get on your knees.” You scrambled to obey her command, your thighs glistening with white and she smirked. “Such an obedient thing. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.” You did so without hesitation and she lifted up her dress and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a lacey bra and boxers. Your eyes fell onto her breasts that were full and sat perfectly, wondering how they’d feel in your hands and in your mouth. You were too distracted to pay attention to Natasha pulling down her boxers until a large, red strapon sprung into your face.
You were sheltered and didn’t have many friends so your knowledge on how two women had sex was low. You had accidentally come across some brief information about strapons while scrolling through social media, closing the app immediately and uninstalling it. You had never told anyone you liked women so any mentions of the topic made you panic and run in the opposite direction. Natasha noticed your hesitation.
“It’s just like sucking a cock,” she said, “you’ve done that, right?” You shook your head. Steve  was a very traditional man so you’d never done anything outside of the very basics. You had always wanted to explore more interesting options but you were too ashamed to ask or discuss any of your preferences with him. “God, so vanilla. Once I show you what you’ve been missing you’ll never want to go back. Do you want to try симпатичный (pretty)?” Her Russian Nickname for you sent a lustful thrum through your body despite the words being foreign and unknown to you. You knew there was only one correct answer to her question but you liked being able to show Natasha how much you desired to follow her orders.
“I’d love to try,” you said, “anything to please you.”
“Good girl,” she husked, nudging your mouth with the strap-on. Her other hand dug into your shoulder as she pushed it inside of your gaping mouth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 
Natasha kept going even when you started choking, tears slipping from your eyes and smearing your makeup. The sight of you, a perfect housewife she had ruined and made a mess of, only made her thrust the toy into your mouth faster, desperately turned on. When she was satisfied that you’d wet it enough, she pulled out, showing enough mercy to let you catch your breath. “You’re already such a good cock-sucker.” She ran her thumb over your plump lips. “Aren’t you glad I put these lips to good use, hmm?”
“Yes,” you gasped, “thank you Natasha.” She placed a kiss on your forehead.
“So polite. Get on all fours and look at your husband.” You hesitated a little this time, suddenly remembering Steve’s presence. You turned around and followed her commands, your gaze meeting with his. Steve’s pupils were drowned in pain and clouded his emotions so you couldn’t identify them, blood still gushing from his gun wound. 
“Natasha, I think he’s going to die,” I said, “his stomach…” She looked over and saw that he was on the verge of passing out, his blood loss now critical. 
“I fear you’re right,” she said, “I thought we’d have more time with him, shame. Don’t worry милый (darling), he’ll be alright soon.” You heard footsteps thundering up the stairs before the door was flung open and several men dressed head to toe in black burst into the bedroom. You wondered how she had summoned them so quickly but you were too horny to dwell on the thought for long. 
You tried to cover your exposed body, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden but Natasha slapped your hands away. “They won’t look my angel, they wouldn’t even dare. Don’t let them distract you.” You felt something prodding your entrance and you whimpered.
“Please,” you breathed as she circled your entrance with the toy, collecting your arousal. 
“You’re somehow even wetter,” she cooed, “did you really love your face being fucked that much?” Before you could answer she began to push the tip inside, your soaked walls showing no resistance. She didn’t give you anytime to get used to the stretch, pulling out before slamming back into you seconds later. The pain only lasted a few moments before it dissolved into pure pleasure as Natasha pounded into you like a wild animal. You arched your bark, the dirtiest sounds you had ever produced spilling from your mouth and echoing through the room. You somehow managed to lift an arm and point it towards Steve’s shirt drawer.  
“There’s divorce paper,” you strung together between gasps, “in that drawer. I already signed them.” The men followed your finger and moved towards them, aimlessly throwing Steve’s shirts onto the floor. You saw a pang of hurt in Steve’s expression but you didn’t care. He should’ve seen this coming and even if he didn’t, it was his fault anyway.
As the divorce papers and Steve were dragged away, you moved your hips in rhythm with Natasha’s to try and get the strap-on deeper into you, every brush against your walls sending electricity through your body. She gripped your hips, encouraging your movements, grunting each time you slammed back against her. Your groans changed when she found your g-spot again and after that, she made sure to keep hitting it, a knot beginning to tighten in your stomach for the second time that night.
“I need to cum,” you said, “can I this time, please?”
“Such a slut,” she said, “soak my dick baby. Go on.” You screamed her name as you released all over her cock, stars blinding your eyes as your body shook with bliss, each new wave stronger than the last. After the longest orgasm of your life, you finally finished cumming, liquid staining your thighs. But Natasha didn’t stop, moving her hands up to your ass and massaging your cheeks. 
“Natasha, I’ve already cummed,” you said, expecting her to finally pull out but instead, she tutted.
“We’re not finished yet,” she said, “If I wanted to, I could have you cumming all over this cock all night. We’re done when I say we are. You are all mine after all, gorgeous.” After the initial discomfort faded away, you were soaring back up to cloud nine, ready to do whatever Natasha wanted.
“Of course,” you said, “I’m all yours now.”
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pseudowho · 5 months
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Still got it
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Artwork by Mmiyoart (2021)
The kids are teenagers, so you and Kento are just their boring parents...right?
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Imagine you and Nanami Kento as parents, but older now, in your forties, and the kids are teenagers at Jujutsu High (much to Kento's displeasure and concern).
The two of you always kept your work life separate to home; the kids knew what the two of you do of course, they all know Curses and Cursed techniques, your two daughters and a son being in possession of these talents themselves.
But you and Kento never come home in mission-wear. You're always patched up by Shoko, one of your oldest and dearest friends, before you walk through the door. Kento never winces as he cooks dinner in a fresh shirt, but behind your bedroom door at night, you gently push his shirt off his shoulders and bathe his wounds, gently kissing his bruises, his head resting back between your breasts as your arms curl round him from behind. You never discuss your kills in front of the kids, the evenings instead, full of talk of exams, arguments with best friends, chastising for using phones at dinner time.
You and Kento make sure you barely overlap at Jujutsu High, teaching students in the other years instead. Your daughters and your son know, in a vague way, that you're both respected First and Second Grade sorcerers in your own right, but to them you're just mum and dad.
Until, one day, that changes. Your three kids, all promising Second Grade sorcerers, and committed to the cause, get into trouble. The Curse they're sent to eliminate is so much stronger than they imagined. Your eldest daughter fights on bravely as your son carries their sister, wounded, to safety. All three are filled with terror as the Curse begins to overwhelm them, their short lives with you and Kento, their adoring parents, flashing in front of their eyes, wondering how the two of you would ever recover from their deaths.
Then, in a flash of black and red, Nanami Kento steps into the fight. A colossal wave of Cursed energy rolls over the children, stunned, breathless, eyes wide as their father, who does maths homework with them, who kisses them all goodnight at bedtime, who bakes at the weekends, instead now ruthlessly, effortlessly wipes the floor with the Curse that nearly killed his babies.
Kento is a demon in battle, tie ripped off, blunt blade whirling, his battle-hardened body just as imposing and lithe as it was in the years before the kids were born. The hands that held theirs when they were tiny, that threw them around ever-so-gently during play-fights, now wielded as weapons with murderous intent.
Even more alarmed are the children, when you appear beside Kento, and as the Curse staggers on its last legs, they hear you shout to Kento- "Throw me!" and, with not an ounce of hesitation, Kento tosses you like a rugby ball, for you to land the killing blow on the Curse.
You are smooth, meticulous, concentrated while making light work of a messy job. The children hear their father hum in approval of you as you take the Curse to task for its crimes against your babies.
Not even sparing the withering corpse a glance, you and Kento rush to your children. You hold your son and eldest daughter's faces, eyes full of tears as you check them all over for damage, their hearts swelling when you praise them for taking care of each other, for doing such a fantastic job holding out until you both arrived.
Kento drops to his knees beside his wounded youngest daughter, gripping her close to him, no less mighty and powerful after years of marriage and raising children. Nanami Kento manages the first and only reverse-cursed technique heal of his whole life, and repairs his daughter's wounds. He holds her to him and weeps quietly as she reassures him, wholly her mother's daughter. Kento grips his son gently around the back of the neck, pulling him down for a tight hug, his son almost breaking at Kento's familiar rumble praising him for prioritising his sister's safety, telling his son he's so proud of the man he's becoming.
Days later, and with the children now recovered, rumours of Nanami-sensei and Nanami-sensei's scathing criticism of and attack on the higher-ups is the talk of the Jujutsu High students. The children are silent throughout, still stunned by the overwhelming skill of their parents.
One of the other students jokingly raises the incident to your kids one day; "Oh man. I wouldn't like to have your parents mad at me. I'd never get over disappointing them."
"Are they...that much of a big deal?" your son asks his friend weakly. His friend raises his eyebrows, amazed, laughing.
"You mean the one and only legends, the Nanami-sensei's? Who the hell did you guys think raised you?"
You and Kento walk down the steps towards them, hands brushing together but not holding, keen to maintain professionalism at school. The children watch as your eyes meet his, love passing between you both, and wonder how they had thought of you as their boring mum and dad for all these years.
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shanieveh · 10 months
Text
dangerously yours !
— genshin men as the villain, you're the hero and throw some love in the mix
sacrifices the world to save you— ALHAITHAM, scaramouche, diluc, THOMA, childe, chongyun
He knew you planned to sacrifice yourself. He saw it coming. And he was ready to prevent every bit of it. He loved you. Once from afar, once from a different identity, a falsehood, a lie. He did all of that to see you, to know you and he fell. Hard.
You were a saint, the embodiment of good morality. A hope for the future. The opposite of him. And as you brace yourself for the moment your soul leaves for a new world, all for his arms to be wrapped in your body. You open your eyes and found a new world, the sound of bombs from where you once were. But that didn't matter. Not when his eyes sparkle more than crystals.
let's you defeat them— kaveh, VENTI, arataki itto, AYATO, albedo, xingqiu, cyno, aether, zhongli, tartaglia, heizou
As your blade came so close to slashing his neck you were finally hailed as a hero. A champion, a winner. But that void in your heart, a trophy can't fill that piece of your heart. He told you it was okay, as both of you staged a fight. Now he was tortured, punished for his crimes. He made you defeat him so you'll be once again called a hero.
You visit him almost everyday, always with an anonymous identity. He still smiled even with his tortured frame, one from lashes, some from his couple inmates. How can he sacrifice all his of career for you? It was easy really. No amount of punishment could exceed your cries, and that beautiful pained face he can't bear to see.
you join the darkside— kaeya, AYATO, albedo, pantalone, scaramouche, pierro, dainsleif, tartaglia
He lured you right to his trap. It all started when you met him, it was like Eve drawing closer to the sneaky snake. But just like it, your first meeting was destiny. Your family always wanted you to be a kind loving child. And you grew up as one. But as you learned more about the other side, you realized how wrong the "morally right" actually is.
It started off with a petty theft, to some injuries and then violence. With him at your side, it felt like pure adrenaline rushed to your veins. He taught you reality, away from the fairy tale built by the stupid legends of heroes. He made you feel that pain and hatred all came from love. You made him feel that loving was never enough to show just how much he adores you. Bang.
he becomes good— scaramouche, THOMA kazuha, VENTI, kaveh, tighnari, zhongli, bennett, xiao
He was never really evil. He was hurt. And when you feel him, and touch and be with him you learn how he actually is. How he was supposed to be. He used his power to see you often, maybe battle with you, but with the many chances to defeat you he chose not to. The many chances to destroy your plans, he left.
On quiet nights, away from the prying eyes and evil plans. There lies both of you, one asleep, one awake. He looks at the person lying on the grass and stares at the peaceful sky and saw no difference. You were the shooting star. His wish. He can't be evil, and he never was. And just for you, he never will. He can't stand to lose you, and he would give everything he built for that.
BONUS: he sacrifices himself— thoma, KAZUHA, alhaitham, childe, albedo, diluc, KAEYA
No... it can't be. He cant die like that. Not for you. It wasn't how it was supposed to be. Pleas of you wanting to wake him up. He was supposed to be a foe. But how he loved you so. He made you feel like you had a purpose, that you were more than just a weapon of justice. He made you feel alive and in doing so it killed him.
The war was over. But was it worth it? It wasn't. Killing him, destroyed you, tore you to pieces. He planned all of this. He knew he was... and in the palm of his hand lie the letter. A plan? A story? No.. it only stated three words you were so scared told him. A feeling you now regret.
"I love you."
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stsgluver · 4 months
Text
𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟐 — gojo satoru
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synopsis. another installment of the first years going through old videos of their teacher and his friends
wc. 4.1k
tags. gojo x reader, reader in the same class as gojo, ft. nanami and haibara
an. do I have any idea where im taking this? no. still think its cute though (let’s hope the next part doesn’t take me another couple of months 🤭)
previous part / next part / series masterlist
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“good evening boys,” nobara burst into megumi and yuuji’s room. the former who was shocked awake from his nap and the latter who had two big bags of popcorn in either arm. he’d been waiting for an hour for the orange-haired girl, a bright grin on his face.
“you can’t just come into our room,” megumi grumbled, pulling his pillow over his head and rolling over in his bed. nobara and yuuji ignored his complaint, dragging both chairs in their room in front of yuuji’s desk. nobara set up the laptop whilst yuuji ran to nobara’s room to grab a third chair. after five minutes of rustling, their movie night was read.
“come sit all, it’s movie time!” the orange-haired girl said excitedly, pulling megumi’s comforter off of him. he sported his usual frown but sleepily complied nonetheless, dragging the blanket around his body as he sat next to yuuji (who then forced the dark-haired teen to share some of the blanket with him). 
“we’re in detention.” the screen opened up with you – hair pulled back into a ponytail as you wore your usual uniform. the three students could recognise the wall behind you as one of their own classes. 
“not our fault,” shoko added, fixing gojo’s glasses on the top of her head. the two of you spoke in hushed whispers, glancing towards the door where, presumably, yaga was on the other side. you had shoved your desk closer to shoko’s so it was basically one big desk and the camera was balanced in the middle.
“never is,” you pinched the bridge of your nose, shooting the person next to you a glare. 
shoko lightly shifted the camera so that geto could come into frame. he raised his hands up in surrender, “it’s not mine either.”
“satoru is getting yelled at by sensei right now,” you whisper shouted, pointing towards the door. if yuuji turned the volume up any louder, they’d be able to hear yaga yet again scolding gojo for another mistake he’d made on a mission – an order he’d probably disobeyed the more confident he grew in his own ability.
shoko frowned, throwing her hands up in exasperation, “he literally knows it was that idiot. why are we being punished?”
“maybe yaga thinks if we get annoyed at satoru he’ll stop,” geto reasoned with a sigh, as if though he wasn’t gojo’s partner in crime and equally as complicit when he entertained his antics. 
“no he won’t. he thinks by punishing us, satoru will have some epiphany about his actions impacting other people. like he thinks far enough ahead to come to that realisation,” you dropped your head down onto your desk. geto laughed quietly, giving you a ‘comforting’ pat on your shoulder.
shoko leant close to the camera, a sharp pencil in hand that she lightly jutted forward, “count your days, gojo satoru.”
the classroom door slid open and the camera was abruptly dropped as yaga walked in, a head of white hair only seconds behind. “is that a came–?” his voice was muffled and cut off quickly as the clip ended.
“bagsy my turn,” yuuji practically jumped from his seat, almost spilling the popcorn everywhere as his half off the blanket dropped from his lap. 
megumi grumbled at him as he grabbed the blanket and bag of popcorn from his excitable classmate. “oh no i was in such a rush,” he sarcastically quipped and nobara lightly nudged his shoulder.
gojo behaved as a god now, untouchable to all as he alone was the strongest. even though their teacher had never been anything but overtly childish, his cursed energy wasn’t something that could be ignored. seventeen year old gojo was as human as they come, lovesick and reckless and happy. the balance of the world was yet to be forced upon him. 
yuuji grinned as he sat back properly, having only taken a fraction of the time to find a video he wanted in comparison to their previous snooping session. taking back his bag of popcorn, he settled himself back under the blanket. “want some?” he offered megumi, who shook his head in response. “your loss.”
as per usual, it was shoko’s face up close and personal with the camera as she adjusted the lens and made sure that it was on and focused. once she was satisfied, she spun the camera so that it was facing nanami – yuuji could hardly contain himself at seeing his beloved teacher look so… not muscular and scary. small giggles filling the dorm room.
the two were in one of the tokyo classrooms, and sat on desks on opposing sides of the room. nanami had his head deep in a book that would probably kill any of his classmates from sheer boredom alone.
“who do you think the first of us to die will be?” shoko asked indifferently as nanami’s eyebrows furrowed and he slowly looked to his left with an unimpressed expression. even as a sixteen year old, he was set in his rigid mannerisms and beliefs and often saw his four seniors as pains in the ass. whilst you and shoko were definitely ranked higher in his list of people he could tolerate than gojo and geto, questions like this made him contemplate his future in jujutsu sorcery if this was who he was going to be working alongside.
“why are you asking me that?”
“answer,” shoko demanded, zooming in the camera on nanami’s face. his blonde hair was held neatly in his side parting and he looked like anyone but the nanami the students were familiar with. 
it looked like he was contemplating telling shoko she was odd, or completely blanking her and opting to finish his book, but the thoughtful silence was interrupted by a sudden thud outside of the classroom. their heads darted up to look at the door and peer through the open doorway into the hallway only to hear gojo’s faint ‘i’m okay!’. 
nanami let out a drawn out sigh, shaking his head. “him.”
“none of us!” haibara’s voice called out as he peered out of the classroom’s cupboard that he’d been reorganising (it had been gojo and geto’s job but they’d left it worse than when they’d arrived and he really didn’t want to get told off again by yaga). 
shoko eyed the camera in disbelief, not even trying to entertain the young teen’s impossible ideology. “you know the mortality rate of a sorcerer right?” she called back to haibara who didn’t falter in his cheeriness as he affirmed his point.
“and? geto and gojo are almost special grades already! you’ve got to have some faith in us,” he grinned, slipping his jacket back on as he finished up his tidying. his footsteps held a skip that the older students had lost – an innocence that was rarely allowed to exist in the jujutsu world. 
yuuji had stopped giggling at the younger appearances of the sorcerers he now knew because he didn’t know him. it was a reminder to the three that no matter how positive they remained against the hardships that would come, it wouldn’t matter. it was kill or be killed and one tiny little mistake, one movement a fraction of a second too late, was the difference between getting paid and coming home in a body bag. 
“lame,” shoko rolled her eyes. she tapped her twin twice as she pondered her own question before pointing at the blond opposite her, “my guess is nanami.” despite his disinterest in the question itself, he shot a look of offence to shoko who raised her free hand in surrender. “imagine this: you’re put on a mission with gojo. you’d ask the curse to kill you.”
“i’m getting killed by a curse?” the special grade in question peered into the classroom, glasses pushed up onto his head and revealing his renowned dazzling blue eyes. there was a small scratch on his cheek – presumably from whatever he’d hit into a few minutes prior.
“no, nanami is to avoid you.”
gojo gasped, one hand on the door frame and the other over his heart as he cried out that ‘that couldn’t be true’ and nanami was his ‘bestest bestie for life’. he only halted his dramatics when you and geto forced him out of the doorway so you could join the rest of your classmates.
you sat in your usual seat next to shoko and geto sat on top of your desk. gojo, on the other hand, remained at the door, jaw practically on the floor as he aggressively pointed at the annoyed blond. “guys, nanami is going to die so he doesn’t have to be friends with me, defend me!”
“at least one of us is brave enough to end our suffering,” geto teased, pinching the bridge of his nose with a grin as you lightly hit his arm, scolding him for entertaining gojo’s behaviour.
instead of giving the white haired sorcerer’s antics any more attention, shoko turned the camera so that it was only a couple of inches from your face. “who do you think will die first?”
“satoru,” you said in unison with geto, eliciting another gasp as gojo dropped onto the floor, faking death. 
when he didn’t get the sympathetic reaction he wanted, he abruptly sat up, pointing a finger directly at you and geto, “did we all just forget five minutes ago when i kicked your asses in training?”
“i’m literally a grade two sorcerer, what sort of flex is that mr i’m-practically-special-grade-please-worship-the-ground-i-walk-on?” you scoffed. the video ended a few moments later, cutting off laughter and satoru bickering with you. 
there was a brief moment of silence – mixed feelings towards what the three had just witnessed. of course it was fun to watch their teacher and his friends but death was a sobering event.
“megumi?” nobara gestured for him to take his turn on choosing their next video but he shook his head, cradling what remained of the bag of popcorn (he’d stolen it back after yuuji nearly spilled once he saw nanami).
“no thanks, you can take my go,” he offered and nobara grinned, worries set aside as she leant forward to find the next video. it was like watching a tv show but it was real life and she knew the characters.
yuuji tried to argue it should be his go – megumi did steal his popcorn after all – but megumi didn’t care enough to aid his argument and there was no way yuuji could overpower the orange-haired sorcerer without his support. nobara was a force to be reckoned with and yuuji was scared to make her mad. 
“is that the teacher from kyoto?” nobara asked after several moments of silently scrolling.
yuuji leaned forward to look at the thumbnail of the video she held the cursor over and in between two tall cherry blossom trees was utahime iori. “it is!” he said excitedly; he’d never seen her without the scar before.
the video opened with utahime running towards the camera from the pink trees. they were fully bloomed and in the background there were tourists taking photos.
“did you get a good picture? does my hair look okay?” utahime asked whoever was behind the camera. the questions were so mundane – the questions of teenage girls worried more about their social media than if they’d survive their next mission.
“yeah don’t worry it always does,” shoko’s voice was heard speaking. her hand appeared in the frame a moment later as she handed utahime back her phone. “here’s your phone.”
“you never say that to me,” you grumbled.
“take the hint,” shoko threw a handful of cherry blossom leaves at you and there was the sound of rustling as you tried to shake what you could out of your hair. 
“shoko ieiri!” you whined, followed by some incoherent threat and a complaint that you’d just had your hair done after some curse had ruined it the other week.
utahime picked up the camera, lifting it high up to show off the trees and bustling streets of tourists and commuters. “i thought we specifically didn’t bring gojo and geto to avoid childless arguments.”
“yn’s fault,” shoko countered, jumping away into the frame of the camera as you tried to hit her arm. she giggled, half behind utahime, “do you at least have gojo’s card?”
“you mean this gorgeous thing?” you appeared on the other side of utahime, sleek black card between your fingertips that you showed to the camera. “today is on him ladies.”
“you truly are taking one for the team being with him, i retract all earlier insults.” shoko held her hand out for a truce, bowing her head as you took her hand.
“i appreciate it, it’s not an easy task,” you dramatically wiped a fake tear away from the corner of your eyes. gojo had given you the card before you’d embarked on your monthly trip to the city, telling you that as long as you brought back a bag of sweets and kikufuku from that one cafe, he didn’t care what you spent.
you froze a moment later, a look of deep thought crossing your features, “can you guys hear that?”
“no,” utahime frowned, a look of concern as she glanced around at the crowd. if your day was about to be ruined by a curse, or worse yet, curse users–
“sounds like the card is saying we need to buy overpriced starbucks.” the three of you broke out into grins at the potential that the black card had given you.
“oh my god, you’re so right and wait,” shoko grabbed your wrist and brought the card close to her ear, “it needs cigarettes to be bought too.”
“shoko! you said you were quitting,” utahime nudged her and shoko blew her an apologetic kiss. the nicotine patches she’d bought to try and quit were still sealed and in a draw she hadn’t opened since she put them in there several weeks ago. quitting was nothing more than a fantasy considered once every blue moon.
“she’s a liar–”
“–and proud,” shoko finished your sentence with a nonchalant shrug.
“i wish sensei would give me his card for a day,” nobara said wistfully as the video ended, twisting a strand of her orange hair around her finger as she mentally plotted the order in which she’d go to all of the shops in tokyo. all she’d need was a full day – 9 to 5 – and she’d never have to shop another day in her life. 
“you’d max it out within an hour,” yuuji scoffed, scooping a handful of the popcorn into his mouth. nobara scrunched her nose up at him as he messily chewed down.
“actually it’s a lot harder than it would seem,” megumi noted.
nobara raised a brow at him – megumi and shopping? “you’ve tried?”
“we tried multiple times,” megumi spoke without much of a second thought. his jaw clenched slightly as he realised his mistake and the consequential curious eyes . pointing to the dark screen, he lightly elbowed the boy next to him’s side, “yuuji take your go quick before i kick kugisaki out so i can sleep.”
“welcome to yn’s kitchen- don’t touch that,” you whacked geto’s hand with a wooden spoon, stopping him from dipping his finger into the bowl of chocolate icing. the dark haired sorcerer cradled his ‘injured’ hand though it was comical to believe you’d actually done any damage – he was at least an entire six inches taller than you.
“today we made a cake,” you held your arms out in a jazz hands manner to show something that… resembled a cake? if the students squinted maybe they’d agree.
“for satoru’s birthday,” geto added, pulling out the big ‘18’ candles that would eventually be used. 
it was pretty obvious that neither of you had any real baking experience, but the thought was definitely there. the shape somewhat was cylindrical, only a small clump had chosen to stay in the pan and had to be ‘surgically’ glued back to the rest of the shape with a large scoop of nutella. you were hoping that the icing would disguise the bitterness of the burnt edges.
“taste it,” you smiled at the camera, shifting the plate towards geto like you were on some cooking show and that pile of sponge was something to be proud of.
geto pushed the plate back without any hesitation, “i don’t want to.”
“do it.”
“you do it.”
your smile dropped and you flashed geto a glare before composing yourself by clearing your throat. taking a deep breath, you broke off a tiny piece of the top layer of the cake, “so i’m now going to trial this small bit for research purposes.”
you barely had chewed twice before your mouth was scrunching up in disgust and you were disappearing off camera to find a bin to spit it out into.
geto, unfazed and unsurprised by your joint failure, picked up the spatula and began dolloping it onto the top of the cake.
“that’s horrendous-” you came back in view with a glass of water in hand. “what are you doing?”
“hiding that with icing,” he stated obviously.
“we’re still giving that to him?”
geto grinned, directly at the camera as he hoped gojo would find this video after he too ate this. “obviously we’re still giving it to him.”
“it’s weird,” yuuji hummed once the video ended, “those two were sensei’s closest friends and yet he doesn’t speak about either.”
“can you blame him? have you ever spoken to maki about the attack geto led against the school last year?” nobara pointed out and yuuji’s eyes widened as he’d nodded. maki was a woman of few words but when it came to yuta? she’d spend all day ranting about how much she disliked geto and that he’d gotten what was coming to him.
“my turn,” megumi placed the now empty bag of popcorn onto the floor as he scrolled and clicked on the first video that he could find. you weren’t a conversation he was ready to have yet – he could bearly speak to gojo about it, let alone the two loudest mouths in the school.
the video opened to the loud sound of the subway. shoko and geto were sat on one side whilst you and gojo on the other – with you holding up the camera as your beloved boyfriend stood up in the middle of the subway carriage.
“fit check!” gojo did a little spin, showing off his basic hoodie and baggy jeans that he wore almost every time the four snuck out of the high school – or in fact, did anything together for that matter. for someone so rich he really did not use his wealth to its full capacity.
after his little twirl and bow, he dropped back down next to you, looking over the camera into your eyes as he seeked your validation. “i look hot right?”
“you always look hot,” you flipped the camera to face yourself as you not-so-subtly-whispered, “his mum paid me to say that.” the students knew their teacher well enough to know that the dramatic gasp they heard was almost definitely followed by an overexaggerated display of anguish. your giggles and geto’s laughter only confirmed the conclusion.
“i think i need a kiss to recover. or i’ll spend the rest of my days as a ghost, heart broken and never able to leave this subway as i haunt it and all the other coup–” the lens view was obstructed by their teacher’s hoodie as you gave into his demands, cutting off his pathetic rant. 
a loud groan was heard from shoko as she snatched back the camera and held it up to her unimpressed face and geto gagging. “i prefer it when they’re broken up,” she grumbled. 
before megumi could interject and tell nobara to get out now (he didn’t care if yuuji teased him for his ‘need for beauty sleep’), the video ended and automatically opened onto the next one. his words were caught in his throat at the oh-so-familiar apartment.
“get that out of my face.” you were older now, only be a few years but there was a scar on your neck that hadn’t been there in any of the other videos. gojo’s laugh could be heard as he ignored your request and instead held it up high enough to capture you both in the frame.
“you don’t remember this old thing?” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your forehead, securing you before you could duck away from him.
“we’re twenty one stop acting like we’re ancient,” you crossed your arms in front of yourself as you accepted that maybe just possibly you didn’t quite the match the strength of jujutsu’s strongest sorcerer.
“we may as well be. we’ve got two kids.”
your eyes widened and you shook your head, “we do not–”
“yn!” a small megumi appeared in the corner of the frame and you quickly shut up as gojo gave you an i-told-you-so look. “gojo said he’d help me with my maths homework. an hour ago.” 
the smugness almost instantly vanished from the sorcerers face as you glared at him for once again avoiding his responsibilities. because apparently there was more to looking after children than feeding them and taking them out for the day as a reward when they beat up bullies in school.
“i’m a busy man megumi, saving lives, helping–” gojo winced as you elbowed him in the side, allowing you to slip from his grasp.
“ignore him megs, let’s go into the living room,” you said, ushering the small boy out of the room. two years of this and you were surprised that megumi even still bothered to give gojo a chance to act his age.
“don’t take my sweets!” 
you halted megumi purposefully, “do you want gojo’s sweets?” the camera although kind of forgotten now, still had the young boy in view and picked up his smirk in full as he nodded.
“i’d love them.” gojo winced again, pretending like tears were about to start falling. as if though he couldn’t easily afford to replace anything they did eat by the thousands.
“perfect,” you exaggerated in a condescending tone. as the amazing parent that you were, you made sure not to forget about the other child that was staying with you. “tsu! do you want a treat?”
“yeah!”
“even better,” you clapped your hands together and gestured for megumi to continue on into the living room again. “have fun with your camera love. i’m very busy adulting here.”
“this isn’t over,” the white haired sorcerer shook his head, betrayal clear on his features.
you mouthed the words ‘i love you’, blowing him a little kiss as you disappeared around the corner. gojo gave you a fake grin, narrowing his eyes at the camera.
“jokes on them, i pay the bills. no more electricity for them.”
“you were so cute!” yuuji practically squealed as he and nobara jumped up 
“your hair was so spiky!” nobara reached out to poke at his less bold spikes that he sported nowadays. they had earnt him his nickname of ‘sea urchin’ but still couldn’t beat his younger hairdo.
“can we meet her?” yuuji asked, the poor boy having been oblivious to any of the social cues that nobara already had. nobara coughed at his request, eyes flicking between the two boys.
megumi shook his head. “i think that’s enough for tonight. please, kugisaki,” he nodded his head towards the door. the girl gave him a quick salute, completing her secret handshake with yuuji before she grabbed the laptop and disappeared from their dorm back to her own.
the dark haired student ignored yuuji’s complaints as he dropped himself back onto his bunk bed, reaching for his phone. upon opening his messages, he scrolled to a contact and pressed on the chat. 
all of the messages displayed on the screen were sent from him to the unknown contact. there was never a response, or even a read message. just ‘delivered’. he knew that if he scrolled up it would be much the same. the last message he’d ever received was one on his 14th birthday; a simple ‘happy birthday. i love you. i’m sorry’.
hi. we miss you. i hope you’re doing okay.
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ickadori · 4 months
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Hiiii I love love loveeeee your sukuna and uraume fics, I keep rereading them!!
Had a kinda idea and would love if you could expand or share your thoughts
You said in one of your fics that reader would often go to uraume for sex if they were being punished by sukuna, well what would happen if sukuna walked in on them in the middle of it?
Would he just watch? Be a Bit angry? tell uraume what to do or to stop? Or maybe even punish uraume as well?
Hope your doing well, and looking forward to future stuff<33
cws for fem reader.
Sukuna didn’t often punish you solely due to the fact that you seldomly broke the rules that he had set in place for you.
Even if you had been foolish enough to test the bounds of The King of Curses’ patience when it came to you, there simply weren’t enough rules for you to go about breaking. There were only two rules that he had given you when you were first brought here so long ago - don’t cause harm to yourself, and don’t engage anyone besides himself and Uraume.
You weren’t too keen on hurting yourself, always having been especially sensitive to pain, even as little as a pinprick on your finger was enough to have you sniffling, and even if you had wanted to converse with the staff skittering around the palace, they had all been too terrified to interact with you, no one willing to give you so much as a glance in fear of incurring Sukuna’s wrath.
In total, you had only been punished two times, although you’re starting to think that Sukuna had gone especially easy on you before. You had been assigned to clean the entire upper left wing of the palace, the largest portion of the upstairs, and you had thought your fingers were going to fall off before he finally made you stop scrubbing already pristine floors. The other punishment had been barring you from the gardens, a pastime that he knew you loved. You’d spend most of your days walking the cobbled paths and aww’ing over the different flowers, and even watching the groundskeeper from a distance to keep them unaware of your presence lest they scurry off.
The punishments, which had seemed so cruel and painful in the moment, now pale in comparison to the new punishment that’s been bestowed upon you.
“Until you learn to take what’s given to you, you won’t be getting anything.”
Those were the words that he had left you with when you had been on the cusp of bliss, and nothing more. He had slipped out of you with a heart-shattering squelch and quickly placed his robe onto his broad shoulders, and left your chambers even quicker. It had been a restless night, thanks to him, and simply because you had been a bit too eager to finally take all of him - as if that was such a heinous crime that it warranted this level of punishment!
You had never been more miserable -not even when you had watched your village be razed to the ground- and Sukuna seemed bemused by your refusal to hide it. He smirked and chided you, even snickering with Uraume when the two of them caught you ogling so shamelessly, even going so far as to rocking in your seat.
Uraume always aligned themself with Sukuna when he was around, so them sharing joy over your suffering was to be expected, but Uraume succumbing to your whines and pleas the moment Sukuna left the palace was also to be expected.
~
Cornering them was easy enough - Uraume never strayed too far from your side whenever Sukuna wasn’t present. You had been in the gardens, gazing out at the colorful assortments of flowers before your mind had wandered to a past memory, a more lewd one, and suddenly you had been hyper aware of Uraume’s gaze on you.
It had lit your skin afire, blood rushing through your veins and making your head spin. You had practically collapsed in their arms when you neared them, and their hands, cold like ice, had quelled that fire so effortlessly, but there had been another one - one that Sukuna had lit and refused to put out.
“Uraume,” your voice comes out weak, a clear plea woven in between the dulcet tones, and shaky fingers reach out to curl around the belt of their kimono. “Can you.. can you help me?”
“Lord Sukuna has made your punishment known, and I am not inclined to end it early.” Their fingers wrap around your wrist, their grip unnaturally strong, and Uraume gives you a placid look. “It seems you’re still thinking about yourself - you greedy girl. Lord Sukuna’s pleasure should always come before your own—how many times must I tell you this?”
“But, Uraume!” Your whine sounds childish even to you, but the incessant throbbing between your legs is too great for you to care. “It isn’t fair.”
“That isn’t for you to decide.” They push your arms back by your sides, the action causing the floral kimono you wear to slip down a rounded shoulder. “If you behave for a bit longer, then I’m sure Lord Sukuna will—”
“—I don’t want Sukuna.” You’re certain that if you had said that in the earlier days of knowing Uraume, that they would have killed you without a second thought to Sukuna’s orders against harming you. “I want you, Uraume.”
They pause, their hands slackening around your wrists, and you take the opportunity to press your body flush against theirs, your breasts squished against their chest as your lips brush against theirs. “I need you.” Your breaths mix together. “Please - help me.”
There’s a beat of silence before they speak.
“…Lord Sukuna is not due back for another two nights.” Their voice is low, nearly silent, as if Sukuna could somehow witness his most loyal servant’s betrayal. “And he didn’t explicitly say that I wasn’t allowed to pleasure you,” their finger hooks into the crease of your kimono, and your breath quickens as they pull it down, slowly, until your chest is fully revealed. “But rather that he wouldn’t. So, I suppose..this should be fine.”
The chilled air bites at your exposed nipples, the buds quickly hardening, and Uraume puts a small gap between the two of you, a light flush working its way into their cheeks as they brush a finger over the hard bud. Their name leaves your mouth in a moan that they frequently called ‘wantonly’ when in a sour mood, and then your lips are pressing together, their hands working to undo your clothing while yours clutch onto theirs.
The kiss is dizzying -it always is with them- and you hardly notice your nude state when their tongue glides against your own, your mind fogging over as your lips move together. Their hand, cold as ice, clears the haze as it pushes against your stomach, fingers sliding lower until they’re drawing small, slow circles on your clit.
Your mouths part with a suctioned noise. “You poor fool,” Uraume gathers your slick on their fingers, the sheer amount of it making the both of you moan in astonishment, and they smear it over your folds before going back to your clit. “You’ve been suffering, haven’t you?” There’s an amused lilt to their voice, but you pay it no mind, too busy mouthing at the expanse of their neck as they all too easily slip two fingers into your drooling hole, thumb pressed firm to your throbbing nub.
You choke on a cry, shoulders tensing and toes curling in your geta sandals, and all it takes is one rub of their fingers against your walls to have you falling apart; eyes squeezed shut, lips parted, head tossed back, and back arched as you cum on their fingers.
Chants of Uraume leave you as they keep pumping their fingers, soft pads abusing that spot that never fails to turn you into a sloppy mess -something that they so frequently call you when you get like this- and their lips finding yours once again.
You quickly end up with your back against the flowers, mind too far gone to be upset over the broken stems and ruined petals. Uraume has taken to burrowing themself between your thighs, hands traveling up your waist and front to grope at your heaving breasts, mouth latched onto your cunt.
You’re sensitive - no doubt the result of Sukuna’s punishment, and every touch from Uraume is felt tenfold. Every swipe of their tongue sent a tingle of pleasure up your spine, every suckle on your clit made dots appear in your vision, and every squeeze and pinch of your breasts made your hole clench and ooze.
“Ura—” Your breath hitches when they groan against you, and you feel another high approaching, this one more intense than the last. Lithe fingers stretch you open, more than you’ve been stretched for weeks, and a skillful tongue flattens over your clit. You pull up tufts of grass and barely blossomed flowers as your hands scramble for purchase, your heels digging into the dirt.
Uraume speaks into your clit, the words lost on you, and your hands fly to their hair, fingers curling into the strands as something strong and paralyzing zips through you. Your muscles tense, tendons in your neck straining, eyes rolling, and then you’re relaxing just as fast, body slumping against the ground, lashes fluttering, and chest raising with soft breaths.
“Uraume..” You sigh, and the sun which had been steadily beaming its warm rays down onto the both of you is suddenly dimmed. You blink your eyes open, Uraume’s head slowly raising from between your thighs, and the both of you make a strangled noise at the sight of Sukuna towering over the both of you.
Two sets of eyes drag over the both of your forms, lingering on Uraume’s slick coated face and the mess between your thighs. His gaze collides with yours, and if your body didn’t feel as if it was made out of jelly, you would have hidden your face away into Uraume’s neck at the sharp look.
“Looks like I’ve got two brats to teach a lesson now.” Uraume flinches at the newly acquired title, and you flinch at the dark grin he casts down on the both of you.
~
“Oh, don’t sleep on me now,” a heavy smack lands on your ass, and you huff out a breath at the sting, tired eyes struggling to stay open. Uraume is laid beside you in a similar state - body flushed, hair disheveled, face mushed against the sheets to stifle their noises.
“You had a measly two days left to go.” Sukuna directs his words at you, his hips snapping forward to sink his cock into Uraume. “But you couldn’t keep this needy little thing in check.” Three thick fingers slam into the ‘needy little thing’ in question, and you keen, wet lashes squeezing shut. “And you.”
One hand grabs a fistful of white hair, and Uraume groans as they’re pulled up, lips coated in their own drool. “My most loyal falling victim to pussy of all things - pathetic.”
“L-Lord Sukuna!” Uraume’s hole is stretched to its limit around two cocks, and you feel a sob fight its way out of your throat at the sight. That’s what had caused all this - Sukuna freely being so rough and brutish with Uraume, not thinking twice before stuffing them full of everything he had, yet not doing the same for you.
“‘S not fair!” You cry, his fingers curling upwards to mash against that gummy spot inside you. “Ryomen!”
“Shut your mouth, girl.” Another hand moves to fiddle with your clit, and you feel an orgasm approaching, but you know he won’t let you have it. “You’ve talked enough, haven’t you?” His fingers spread and scissor inside you, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge before he’s slipping his hands away, a dark snicker leaving him as he steals your bliss away.
Uraume chooses then to moan out, your orgasm transferred over to them, and you feel painfully empty, hips pushing back in a silent beg as you whine into the sheets.
“I’ll fuck you until you’re sick of it,” he speaks against Uraume’s ear but his eyes are locked on yours. “So the next time she whines for you to touch this greedy pussy of hers while she’s on punishment,” his fingers slip their way back inside, “you’ll remember this and think twice.” His eyes narrow on you. “And you’ll watch me give them what you so desperately crave.”
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nkogneatho · 7 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑
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Firefighter!Toji x fem!reader
📍Sincity Stop 1 (kinktober week 1)
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—cw: fem!reader, mention of childhood trauma, fingering, protected sex, clasp position, slight size kink, deep penetration, cervix kissing, mention of cunningulus, sweet but beefy toji, nipple sucking.
—wc: 3k
—a/n: I am so proud of this ngl because my attention span is low but I managed to pull out a 3k word fic out of my pussy for the first time. I hope you enjoy it. Happy kinktober!!
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Shoot me an ask for a tag in sincity. Reblogs are highly appreciated
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#sincity mlist #general mlist #taglist
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Moving to the outskirts of a new city had drained all of your energy. Yet, your excitement was palpable as you unpacked your belongings and decorated your cozy space with a touch of your personal charm.
Your eyes searched for the digital clock you placed earlier under the glass decor of the wall, which read “21:00”. Considering it had already been so late, you had no intentions of cooking for yourself. Yet, knowing you have to cut back on expenses considering you still have to buy some furniture, you decided to boil some water and throw in some ramen. While the water was boiling, you managed to find a candle in one of the cabinets. As the sun sunk to the horizon, casting long shadows across the city, you decided it wouldn't really hurt to create a warm, welcoming atmosphere in her new home. It might also soothe you. You carefully arranged scented candle near the window of your kitchen. You went to switch off the lights to vibe in the atmosphere. The soft, flickering glow of the candles filled the room, and the sweet aroma of lavender allured you.
You sat on your chair in the kitchen with the bowl of instant ramen, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you as you gazed at the dancing flames. You have your favorite playlist playing in the background. Not only that, but you've had a long week and this moment was certainly needed, and it was finally here in the midst of the city's vibrant energy.
However, what you didn't realize was that the flickering candle had ignited the curtain nearby. As you got lost in thought while slurping on then spicy goodness, the flames quietly crept upward, engulfing the fabric in a fiery embrace.
But to your luck, there was someone outside the window who actually noticed the faint wisp of smoke. When the passerby searched around, he found a flame igniting the fabric curled on the edges of the window. He quickly jumped over the road and rushed near the flames. He managed to get your attention by aggressively tapping and yelling. Your eyes fell onto the man and then the raging fire. You instinctively threw the water from the jar on the kitchen counter. It did attempt to decrease the flames, but not nullify it. So you started filling the jar at the kitchen sink. Luckily, the man had found a bucket filled with water lying outside so by the time your jar filled up, he quickly took care of the accident. You both took a long breath that you were holding inside.
“Thank you so much, Sir.” He looked like someone in his mid 30s. “I don't know what would've happened if you didn't notice,” you expressed your gratitude.
“Don't worry. Just be careful next time.” he shot you a little smile before looking at his now wet sleeves. You noticed it and realized the least you could do was offer him water with an apology.
“Would you like to come inside? I'll pop your clothes in my dryer,” you offered.
“That's alright. I can take care of this—”
“No, please. It's the least what I can do to thank you.” He considered your offer in his head for a few seconds before saying alright and heading towards your door.
The doorbell rang despite you knowing who was on the other side of the door. As you walked towards it, your sanity kicked in. Was it really safe to invite a random man into your house? I mean, sure, he helped you, but what if he is a serial killer? You're uncertain if you watched too many crime dramas or if this is actually concerning.
“Fuck it. If he tries something funny, I still have that pepper spray,” you said to yourself. With a rather awkward smile, you opened the door.
“Please. Come in.” He smiled. You closed the door behind him. “Thank you so much, once again.”
“Oh, please. Don't stress it. It's kind of my job as a firefighter.” Now that all the commotion was over, you finally noticed he has a deeper voice. Kind of raspy. Kind of soothing.
“Oh? I did not know that. I feel even more embarrassing to be so careless now.”
“We all make mistakes. How did it happen, though?”
“I was tired, so I lit some candles I found. Dumb me forgot about the curtains.” You gestured towards his wet sleeve. “…the shirt.”
“Oh yeah.” He started unbuttoning and halfway through you realized if this was actually appropriate.
Wait. Did I not think this through? He will be half naked. And oh! He is. It's fine, y/n. It's fine. He won't kill you. He is a firefighter. Oh my God! There is a half naked firefighter in my apartme—Oh! Those are some great abs. And the biceps. And those tits?They look bigger than mine. What the f—
“Ahem, ahem. You good?” he asked, snapping you out of your inner monologue.
“I am. Yeah.” You extended your hand for the shirt. “Please. Make yourself comfortable. I'll drop these in the dryer.” The man scans you as you walk away.
He plops himself on your plush beige couch. He looks around like a normal person to find decor that speaks what kind of person you are. Oddly, he is met with a rather small amount of stuff. Maybe you were a minimalist. By the time you were back, you saw him looking at the only picture frame you had on a wall.
“That's me with my mom, if you're wondering.”
“It's a beautiful picture. Also, apologies. How rude of me to sit on your couch, half-naked, and still not introduce myself.” You giggled at his words. “I am Toji. I live next door.”
“Wh—I am y/n. We're neighbors? Wow. What a coincidence.”
“I am sorry. Usually, the first new neighbor encounter is to always being something over, but I have nothing on me right now.”
“That's alright, considering you literally saved my life.”
“But you repaid me drying my shirt, so now we're even. I promise to bring something tomorrow.”
“Then I think I'll prepare something too.”
“You cook?”
“If putting instant noodles in boiling water counts as cooking, then hell yeah.” You both started laughing. It felt nice. His tits were still distracting, though. Thank god he is not a serial killer, so you can shamelessly have a wet dream about him.
The few minutes of getting-to-know-each-other conversation was interrupted by the beep of your dryer machine. You brought him his shirt, which felt like a mix of polyester and cotton in your fingers.
“So. I'll see you tomorrow,” you gave him a warm smile.
“Looking forward to that instant ramen, y/n.”
It felt bittersweet for some reason. You wished the shirt should've taken more time to dry because the conversation was fun.
In the midst of the chaos, a bond was forged between Toji and you, two souls brought together by a chance encounter amidst flickering flames. Was this a start of something new?
It was the next day. Your morning started with visiting the nearest thrift store to see if you could find something. You did need some crockery set for your kitchen. As you stepped out the door, you looked to the other side at Toji's door. You wondered if he's at work.
As the sun began to set over the quiet suburban neighborhood, Toji, found himself standing outside your door. He held a Tupperware filled with freshly made gyoza, a kind gesture he promised you.
Toji took a deep breath. For some reason, his heart pounding with nervous excitement. With one press on the bell switch, he waited, tiffin in hand. Inside, you were all giddy by the sound of the doorbell, with an expected visitor. You opened the door and were met with Toji's warm smile, which immediately put you at ease.
“Freshly made gyozas,” he extended his arm. “I hope my ramen in ready.”
“I am still boiling the water. You know how hard it is to make instant noodles, right?”
“Right. Haha.” This time he did not wait for an invitation to come in. He settled himself on the seat near the kitchen counter.
“So…how was your day?” you asked. “Any fire accidents today?”
“Not really. Fortunately, not many people in this city who burn candles next to a tapestry,” his voice taunting but in a lighthearted way.
“Ugh! How long are you planning on teasing me?”
“Hanging out with me comes with a price, sweetheart.” You felt your insides shift. Did he just call you a sweetheart? And it sounded so pretty in his raspy voice. You were left speechless, so you just smiled and headed over to the induction to see if the noodles were done.
“Can you help me set the plate, Toji?”
“Of course. It's the first time I've heard you say my name. Sounds cute.” Is he flirting? Or were you being delusional?
“Where's your kitchen towel? I need to wipe these first,” he asked. You gestured towards the second drawer next to you. As he grabbed the towel, he leaned to take a sniff of the noodles in the bowl.
“You are quite a chef, y/n. Smells amazing,” he didn't realize how close to your face he was. You had to take a moment to scan his features up close. His hooded emerald eyes. Some strands of his jet black hair shielding parts of his forehead. The texture of his skin. That scar near the end of his lips on the left. You wanted to feel it.
“Can I be rude for a second?” You asked. Toji didn't quite understand your question. Regardless of it, he said yes. Your fingertips reached for his scar, gently rubbing and feeling them. “How did you get this scar?” He didn't know how to feel, but something about your touch was comforting.
“When I was in middle school, there was a fire accident at my best friend's place. He lived a block away, so we immediately knew. My parents and I rushed over. They were still waiting for the firetruck to show up, while everyone started to break the garden pipes to calm down the fire. I sneaked away from my parents and rushed to the backdoor. I tried to touch the door handle and immediately got burnt, so I kicked the window glass.”
“But you were a kid?”
“Didn't matter to me at that time. A chunk of the outer ceiling which was now charcoal fell, so I instinctively jumped a step. But the broken glass had cut my corner lips by the time I opened my eyes. I passed out and the next thing I know I was in my bedroom. My mom had cleaned and bandaged up my lip.”
“What about your friend? Is he…?” You weren't certain if you should've asked that.
“Oh don't worry. He's alive. He's paralyzed in his limbs. Is now married and lives in Kyoto with his wife.”
“Is this why you became a firefighter? Because you thought you couldn't help him?” Toji rarely opened to anyone, but he didn't realize that when he does, how easy it becomes for people to read him. He gave you a nod.
“You're a kind man, Toji. And for what it's worth, this scar is a sign of bravery and looks beautiful on you.” He was never complimented in such a way. Something about you, and your touch, was so tender. The way your eyes sympathized when he told you the story. It felt good. He closed his eyes as he inhaled.
“Can I be rude too?” He asked.
“Okay…” you replied without knowing what had to come. His lips came crashing on yours, a faint touch of sweetness on them. You could now completely feel his scar against your lips. Both of your eyes remained closed until Toji looked away to exhale the breath he had been holding. You didn't know what you expected, but it surely wasn't this.
“I am sorry that was j—”
“Shut up and kiss me again,” you interrupted, grabbing his face. Without a second thought, he once again started kissing you, but this time, it felt tougher. Harder. He pushed you on the kitchen counter, grabbing your right leg, constantly trying not to leave a single centimeter of space between you two. The more you kissed him, the more you craved. Especially with the growing heat between your legs. And surely the way he had one of your thighs around his waist, it wasn't helping your self-control. You started grinding on him, or what felt like his growing boner. He broke the kiss, breathing heavily with his forehead against yours.
“I need to fuck you. Right now.” You didn't know whether that was a demand or an order, but you'd surely be a fool to miss out on this after seeing the great body that he has, last night.
“Condom's in the third drawer on the left.” Toji sprinted to grab them. While he was busy finding the condoms, you stripped your clothes and threw them down on the floor. The wood rattled as he opened it to find what he wanted. He latched his teeth to the crimp of the plastic, ripping it through. He let loose of the elastic if his baggy white bottoms, along with his underwear, which pooled near his feet. You couldn't take your eyes off his cock when he started pumping it. Holy shit! It was girthy. By the time he reached you, he had the condom on.
“Will that even fit?” You raised your concern.
“Don't worry, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I'll make it fit.” Two of his digits entered your wet pussy, and he started making their way up until it reached that sweet spot. He spread his middle finger and ring finger inside to make your walls loosen up.
“Ah! Toji,” you mewled.
“Yes, baby? That feels good?”
“Mhm,” you nodded, throwing your head back with your eyes closed. The feeling of his rough fingers in your pussy was ecstatic.
You didn't realize he was aligning his cock with your entrance, fingers still inside, planning to catch you off guard. And he did.
“Ah—fuck! Holy Shit,” you moaned. When you looked down, you found the digits were now replaced by a girthier and better thing. Toji didn't move. He slid his cock up your entrance until it kissed your cervix, staying put to make your walls used to it, so he can easily move later. Tears formed at the corner of your eyes. “Too deep, Toji.”
“Need'ta do this, love. Or it'll hurt. Just for a few seconds, alright?” His voice felt sweeter. It felt as if he genuinely cared. With a minute passed, and you all stretched, he started moving slowly. You've never had such a big cock in your life, so this felt like a whole new experience. What turned you on more was how good he looked while thrusting his dick inside you. His biceps were flexed and his plush dark peach nipples erect. You sucked and wet your thumb as he watched you, then ran all your saliva over his nipples, which were now glistening.
“Fuck.” He moaned. “Ya like them that much, huh?”
“Love them.” He took his other hand off your waist and grabbed one of your breasts.
“I love these more.” He started playing with your nipples with his fingers, taking the other one in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.
“Ngh—feels so good, Toji. Please keep fucking me.” The more you moaned, the more it turned him on.
“Hold on to my arms.” You were not prepared for what he was about to do. You snaked your hands against his arms, as he lifted you off the counter, each hand on your ass. He started ramming you down his cock, the fat dickhead hitting your g-spot, you were seeing stars.
“Fuck! Fuck. Holy fu—Oh my god. Ah! Gonna cum. Toji, Gonna cum.”
“Yeah? Cum for me, baby. Cream all over my cock.” Your orgasm hit you, and you spilled all your juices on his shaft. He did slow down but caught the pace again. He needed to cum too. Now that your wet cunt was even tighter after the orgasm, all sensitive and your warm velvety walls sucking him in. Fuck. He started bouncing you harder. Firefighters are sure as hell too strong. Skin slapped against each other vigorously until one last thrust, and he held you in place, somehow trying to reach even deeper and you whimpered feeling a slight pain. You felt something warm inside you through the condom. Toji rested his forehead against yours, still holding you in the position.
“Fuck. That was great,” he exhaled.
"Do you fuck every girl that moves in next door like a whore?"
"Not really," he replied. "Never seen someone as smoking hot as you."
“What do you say if we skip dinner and do this all night?” you suggested. The noodles were as cold as Antarctica by now.
“Do you see that knife, y/n? If I say no to that question, I want you to stab me with it.” You laughed gently. He carried you to the bedroom in the same position, until he plopped you on the bed and started running his tongue on your cunt. The entire night, he pulled multiple orgasms out of you. You cuddled. You talked. He skipped work the next day and don't worry, the gyozas were reheated in the microwave for lunch. Turns out, along with being a hot firefighter, he is a great cook too. This might've been a stupid one night thing, but neither of you wanted it to be the last.
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Taglist: @sadeizzm @eros-lives @frustrated-kitten @xdeepinyoux @dabisqueen @twisteddaydreams1135 @thatneko0taku @linpunny @i-dont-know-whats-goingon @freeholeformuzan @saturnsoups @thatonepupkai @the-moonandthehermit @niguursworld @soubi122 @kacchanofbakugous @nymphotia @luc1dexe @ilovetwodmen @happymangospot @mnare @tired-gotha @anxious-chick @darkstarlight82 @suyacho @aztecbrujeria @iwuvtoruuuuuuu @getomybeloved @bloomingheartz
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hoshifighting · 2 months
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"S" on My Chest, 'Cause I'm Ready to Save Him
Synopsis: Amidst the chaos of your world, you found Seungcheol, a man with gummy smile who melted the icy walls around your heart. But just when things were heating up between you two… You find out he's from a rival mafia, all thanks to a tattoo on his back. And you have to protect him.
Warnings: Smut, angst, mafia, oral (f. receiving), pussy slapping, unprotected sex, begging, manhandling, penetrative sex, dirty talk, lies, crying, threat of suicide, violence, organized crime, betrayal and etc.
Word Count: 7.1k
Reader! Mafia X Seungcheol! Enemy Mafia
You, the underboss of a powerful mafia syndicate. Born into a legacy of organized crime, you inherited the reins of power from your father, stepping into a world where loyalty was currency, and trust was a rare gem amidst the sea of deceit.
For years, you navigated the treacherous waters of the underworld with precision and cunning, your focus solely on the tasks at hand, your heart shielded behind walls of steel. Love was a concept long forgotten, buried beneath layers of duty and obligation. You had grown so selective, so cautious, that even the notion of such an emotion seemed foreign, a distant memory fading into the abyss of your past.
But fate, it seemed, had other plans.
Enter Seungcheol - a beacon of light in the darkness, his presence like a breath of fresh air in the smoky haze of your existence. With his dark locks and a gummy smile that could melt even the iciest of hearts, he sauntered into your life like a whirlwind, disrupting the carefully constructed walls you had built around yourself.
At first, he was just a familiar face at your favorite bar, a friendly ear amidst the chaos of your world. He listened to your frustrations with genuine interest, his empathy a balm to your weary soul. Slowly but surely, he wormed his way into your life, becoming not just a friend, but a confidant, a pillar of support in a world where trust was a rare commodity.
Before you knew it, Seungcheol had captured your heart a year ago, his unwavering devotion breaking down the barriers you had so meticulously erected. He showered you with affection, his gestures grand and heartfelt - bouquets of flowers that filled your home with their sweet fragrance, extravagant dinners where laughter flowed freely, and nights filled with excitement and passion.
[...]
As Seungcheol's hips moved with effortless rhythm, igniting waves of pleasure that coursed through your body, you clung to him desperately, as if afraid he might slip away into the night. Your arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling him closer, your heart pounding in sync with his as your chests pressed together in a passionate embrace.
Locked in each other's gaze, your eyes spoke volumes, conveying a depth of emotion that words could never capture. And as the pleasure surged through you like a tidal wave, you couldn't help but moan his name over and over again, each syllable a fervent prayer on your lips.
In the midst of ecstasy, Seungcheol's voice, husky and filled with desire, intertwined with yours in a seductive dance of words.
"You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he trailed kisses along your neck. "You love it when I make you feel this good."
His words sent shivers down your spine, your body responding eagerly to his touch as he continued to tease and tantalize you with his dirty talk.
"Tell me how much you want it," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me how badly you want to cum."
Your breath hitched in your throat, your words tumbling out in a fevered rush as you surrendered to the pleasure he offered.
"I need you" you gasped, your voice raw with desire. "I need you to make me yours, to make me cum until I can't think of anything else but you."
As Seungcheol continued his relentless assault on your senses, driving you to the brink of oblivion, your body responded with fervor, your walls clenching around him in a powerful crescendo of pleasure. Lost in your orgasm, you could feel the sheets beneath you grow damp with the evidence of your cum.
His hips stuttered against yours, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he sought solace in your embrace. In that moment of pure bliss, there were no words, no thoughts, only the raw, primal connection between you and him, binding you together in an unbreakable bond of desire and need.
As you slipped out of bed to freshen up in the bathroom, leaving Seungcheol to bask in the warmth of the sheets, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite the chaos of your life outside these walls, here, in this moment, everything felt right.
As you returned to the room, your heart fluttered with anticipation, eager to reunite with Seungcheol after your brief absence. But as your eyes fell upon his form, lying face down on the bed, a smile playing on his lips, your breath caught in your throat.
Something was different.
With hesitant steps, you approached him, the smile on your face faltering as you noticed the new addition to his soft skin - a tattoo etched into his flesh, unmistakably belonging to your rival mafia. Your blood ran cold, a shiver coursing through your entire being as the implications of his inked allegiance sank in.
Tentatively, you reached out to touch his back, your fingers tracing the lines of the tattoo with a mixture of disbelief and dread. Every instinct screamed at you to run, to flee from the danger that now lay before you, but you were rooted to the spot, unable to tear your eyes away from the damning mark.
Seungcheol's smile faded as he caught sight of your expression, confusion flickering in his eyes before realization dawned. He rose from the bed, his movements slow and cautious, as if afraid to startle a wild animal.
"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern as he reached out to you, his hand outstretched in a gesture of comfort.
But you flinched away, your entire body trembling with fear and uncertainty. How could you have been so blind, so naive to trust someone who bore the mark of your enemy?
"I... I didn't mean for you to find out like this," he said softly, his gaze never leaving yours. "But please, you have to believe me. I'm not who you think I am. I love you, and I would never betray you."
"You knew... you knew who I was all this time..." you breathed out, your voice trembling with a mixture of shock and betrayal. Stepping back, you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling exposed in a way that Seungcheol had never made you feel before.
As he took a step closer, his expression fraught with concern, you couldn't help but recoil, the weight of his deception heavy upon your shoulders.
But Seungcheol shook his head vigorously, his eyes filled with sorrow as he attempted to calm the storm brewing within you. "No, Y/N, I didn't know at first" he pleaded, his voice cracking. "I swear, I only found out after we were already together."
Your mind raced, trying to reconcile his words with the truth that now lay bare before you. Could you believe him? Your job was no longer to play with dolls in beautiful pink dresses, in which they found her dream prince. Now, any relationship you get involved in would have its consequences.
Feeling vulnerable and exposed, you hugged yourself tighter, your gaze locked with his as you searched for any hint of deceit. But all you found was genuine remorse and a desperate sincerity that tugged at your heartstrings.
Tears welled up in your eyes, finally breaking free in a choked sob as you hastily reached for your clothes, your hands trembling. Seungcheol felt the desperation pulsing through his veins, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain.
He reached out to touch your arm, a gesture of comfort born out of instinct, but you flinched away, your voice trembling as you pleaded with him to refrain. "Please... don't touch me." you whispered, your words a knife to his heart as you recoiled from his touch.
Seungcheol's hand fell limply to his side, the weight of your rejection crushing him with its intensity. You had always craved his touch, sought out his warmth and affection with a hunger that matched his own, and now to see you pull away from him like this was more than he could bear.
"I'm sorry" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as tears began to trail down his cheeks, mirroring the pain in your eyes. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you."
You continued to dress yourself in silence.
With a heavy heart, he watched as you prepared to leave, the realization dawning on him that he may never see you again. The thought was like a dagger to his soul, piercing him with a pain that cut deeper than any blade.
"I love you," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached out to you one last time, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "Please... don't go."
But as you turned away, the tears in your eyes reflecting the agony in his own, Seungcheol knew that it was too late. The damage had been done.
Breathless and heartbroken, you dashed through the empty streets, the sound of your own footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. Each stride felt like a dagger to your soul, the weight of betrayal heavy on your shoulders as you raced towards your home.
Arriving at last, you wasted no time in summoning your most trusted hacking team, their expertise your only hope in unraveling the truth of Seungcheol's identity. With trembling hands, you guided them through the labyrinth of digital defenses, your heart pounding in your chest as you awaited the results.
And then, there it was - displayed on the screen in stark black and white, irrefutable evidence of Seungcheol's treachery. Not only did he belong to your rival mafia, but he was the very owner, the puppet master pulling the strings behind the scenes.
As the days passed, you heard a distant conversation between your dad and his henchmen. About this gang, the name matching the tattoo of the person you loved the most. The plan would be to meet the leader in an empty warehouse near one of the least busy streets in the metropolis. And that was enough for you to not even want to hear the rest. 
You were going against your own laws, days passed after the incident. But his death was the last thing you wanted. And you knew what your dad was capable of.
Seungcheol's attempts to reach out to you came in waves, a relentless barrage of emails, messages, and calls that served as a constant reminder of the love you craved every day. Despite your best efforts to block him out, he persisted, his promises of redemption and declarations of undying love echoing in your ears like a haunting melody.
Despite the pain that still lingered within you, you knew that you had to push forward, to be the strong, capable woman that your role in the mafia required you to be.
With each calculated move, each careful step, you reaffirmed your commitment to your role within the organization, knowing that nothing could repair the wounds that had been inflicted upon your heart. But even as you buried yourself in your work, the memory of Seungcheol being in danger lingered in the recesses of your mind.
[...]
As you walked with a heavy heart, a gun gripped tightly in your trembling hand, you knew that you were treading dangerous ground. Your father had warned you countless times to steer clear of this mission, but the nagging feeling in your gut told you that you couldn't ignore it - not when the safety of someone so dear to you hung in the balance.
The air was thick with tension as you prowled through the dimly lit alleyways, your senses on high alert as you navigated the maze of crumbling buildings and shadowed corners. The mission weighed heavily on your mind, the stakes higher than ever as you ventured deeper into enemy territory.
And yet, despite the pain, you remained focused on the task at hand, determined to see it through to the end.
Entering in a big empty shed, suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed through the empty place, alerting you to the presence of another. Instinctively, you reached for the gun tucked at your waist, your muscles tensing as you prepared for a confrontation.
And then, he stepped into view - Seungcheol, his eyes widening in surprise as he locked gazes with you, the shock evident on his face. "Y/N, this is dangerous shit. What are you doing here?" 
"What is it? Didn't you already know this was my job?" Your damn pride now decided to speak louder.
"Y/N, please... you have to listen to me" he pleaded, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.
"Tell me why I should trust you," you demanded, your voice laced with anger and hurt. "After you've hidden everything, why should I believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?"
"I knew... I knew about your identity," he admitted, his voice strained with regret as he looked at you with eyes filled with pain. "But I didn't know from the beginning. I swear, Y/N, I didn't."
His words hung heavy in the air between you, a silent admission of guilt and regret that echoed in the depths of your soul. And as he continued to speak, his voice raw with emotion, you couldn't help but listen, despite the chaos that raged around you.
"I was alone," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Commanding this and that, but always alone. And you... you were my comfort, my solace. You were the embrace at the end of the day that I craved more than anything."
The weight of his words settled over you like a heavy blanket, the realization dawning on you that perhaps there was more to his deception than met the eye. And as you looked into his eyes, you saw the truth reflected back at you - the fear, the loneliness, the desperate longing for connection that had driven him to keep his secrets buried deep within.
His eyes seemed redder than normal, his dark circles were deep, and you noticed his hands shaking in his pockets. How much you were missed in his life, showing physically in him too. And you don't think it's very different from you.
"I was afraid" he confessed, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "Afraid to tell you, because I knew that sooner or later, this would be your reaction. And I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, of losing the one person who meant everything to me."
And then, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room as people entered, forming a circle around you. Among them was your father's team, your dad's trusted compatriots who now stood before you with a mixture of concern and determination etched on their faces.
One of them, your father's longtime partner, stepped forward, his voice grave as he addressed you. "Y/N, you need to leave," he said, his words ringing in your ears like a death knell. "Or else you'll be at risk."
But before you could protest, Seungcheol stepped forward, his expression desperate as he pleaded with you to listen. "Y/N, please," he implored, his voice cracking with emotion. "You have to leave. You can't do this."
You turned to him, your heart aching with the weight of the decision before you.
And then, without hesitation, you raised your gun, pointing it at your own team, who looked at you with shock and disbelief.
Seungcheol's eyes widened in horror as he realized what you were about to do. "No, Y/N, stop!" he cried out, his voice filled with desperation.
But you were beyond reason, consumed by a fierce determination to protect the man you loved at any cost. And as you stood there, gun in hand, facing down your own team, you knew that the line between loyalty and betrayal had blurred beyond recognition.
As your father appeared amidst the confusion, his eyes widened in shock at the scene unfolding before him. The sight of you, tears streaming down your face, with a gun pointed at your own team, was a stark contrast to the composed, capable operative he had always known you to be.
For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air as your father took in the gravity of the situation. It had been years since he had seen you cry like this, It was probably while you were still a child, years since you had allowed yourself to show such vulnerability in front of him. And the sight of his child in such distress made his heart ache with a pain he couldn't bear. "What the hell are you doing, Y/N?" he demanded, his eyes searching yours for answers. "Put the gun down, now."
You hesitated, torn between the love you felt for Seungcheol and the loyalty you owed to your father and the team. But before you could respond, Seungcheol stepped forward, his presence a reassuring weight against your back.
But before you could respond, Seungcheol spoke up, his voice filled with urgency. "Y/N, please," he pleaded, his grip on you tightening. "You have to let me go. I can't bear to see you put yourself in danger like this."
He was afraid that you wouldn't be able to bear the weight of the consequences, that the burden of his actions would crush you beneath its weight.
But you refused to let him go, clinging to him as if your life depended on it. For in that moment, Seungcheol was more than just a lover – he was your anchor amidst the storm, the one person who had stood by you through thick and thin. The only person who didn't disappear when he discovered his true identity.
"Dad, please," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. "You don't understand."
But your father's expression remained resolute, his eyes flickering with concern as he took in the scene before him. "I don't care what your reasons are," he replied firmly. "Violence is not the answer."
"Dad, I know violence isn't the answer," you replied, your voice steady despite the tears still streaking down your cheeks. "But you have to understand, if I leave now, they're going to kill him. Don't act like you don't know what they're capable of, because I've seen it firsthand."
Your father's expression softened slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing his features as he took in your words. He may not have agreed with your methods, but he couldn't deny the truth of what you were saying.
As the tension reached its breaking point, you felt the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. With the sound of your father's henchmen cocking their guns ringing in your ears, you knew that you were running out of time.
"I would do everything for him, Dad," you said, your voice unwavering despite the fear pulsing through your veins. "And when I say everything, I mean everything."
With trembling hands, you raised your gun and pressed it against your own temple, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked around at the worried faces of those around you. "If anyone moves," you declared, your voice steady, "I will kill myself."
The room fell into a shocked silence, the air heavy with the weight of your words. Even Seungcheol, who stood frozen in disbelief, felt his heart plummet at the sight of you in such a precarious position. Holding your jacket with the intention of making you give up.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as everyone processed the gravity of the situation. Your father's henchmen hesitated, their guns wavering as they exchanged uncertain glances. And amidst the chaos and confusion, you remained resolute, your finger poised on the trigger, ready to follow through on your desperate threat.
Your team knew that your death would spell the end of everything, that your father would never forgive them for letting it come to this.
"Dad," you began, your voice quivering, "you know I've never asked anything for myself. It's never mattered to me how much money we had or what position we held. But this... this is the only thing I'm asking you for."
Your father's expression softened, his features reflecting the turmoil of emotions swirling within him. Now he knew the depth of your love for Seungcheol, and he understood the lengths you were willing to go to protect him. After all, your dad had never seen you in love before. He observed the way Seungcheol, the mafia leader who needed to be cold enough to bear with leadership, held you tight, afraid to lose you, his own eyes reddened from the tears that hadn't stopped since.
For a moment, the room fell into a heavy silence, the tension palpable as everyone waited for your father's response. And then, with a resigned sigh, he nodded slowly, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and understanding.
"I'll do what I can," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you have to promise me one thing, Y/N. Promise me that you'll put the gun down."
His words hung in the air, a solemn reminder of the gravity of the situation. And as you looked into your father's eyes, you knew that this was your only chance to save Seungcheol.
With a trembling hand, you lowered the gun, the weight of it slipping from your grasp as you stepped back, the tears still flowing freely down your cheeks. As the tension in the room began to dissipate, your father's authoritative voice cut through the stillness, commanding everyone to lower their guns. With a collective sigh of relief, the henchmen complied, their weapons lowering to their sides as the standoff came to an end.
With the immediate threat diffused, you turned around, your heart heavy with emotion as you sought solace in Seungcheol's comforting embrace. Tears continued to stream down your cheeks as you buried your face in his shoulder, allowing yourself to release the pent-up emotions that had been building within you.
Seungcheol held you tightly, his arms a reassuring anchor amidst the storm of emotions that raged within you. In that moment, the walls you had erected around your heart crumbled, allowing your vulnerability to flood forth like a rushing river.
And as you cried like a baby in his arms, Seungcheol held you close, his own tears mingling with yours as he too allowed himself to be vulnerable in your presence. Together, you shared a moment of raw emotion, a testament to the depth of your love and the strength of your bond.
Meanwhile, your father stood nearby, his expression a mixture of relief and contemplation as he observed the scene before him. Wiping his forehead with his hand, he took in the gravity of the situation, the weight of his daughter's love for Seungcheol weighing heavily on his heart.
In that moment, amidst the chaos and the turmoil, your father realized that he couldn't ignore the truth any longer. The love you and Seungcheol were sharing behind his back, was undeniable, and he knew that he would do whatever it took to protect it, even if it meant going against everything he had ever believed in.
As the tension eased and the henchmen filed out of the room under your father's silent command, a heavy silence settled over the empty space, leaving only you, Seungcheol, and your father standing amidst the remnants of the standoff.
The sound of footsteps echoing against the cold, concrete walls served as a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation that had just unfolded. Your father's expression remained inscrutable as he turned to face the two of you, his gaze lingering on the intertwined figures of you and Seungcheol.
Once they were gone, your father turned his attention to Seungcheol, his expression unreadable as he addressed the mafia leader. "Where are your henchmen?" he asked, his tone measured but tinged with curiosity.
Seungcheol met your father's gaze squarely, his own eyes unwavering as he replied, "I came alone, sir."
Your father's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, a mixture of confusion and concern crossing his features. "Why would you do that?" he questioned, his voice laced with genuine curiosity. "Putting yourself in danger like this."
Seungcheol's expression softened slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he looked at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Because I knew Y/N's father was here," he explained, his voice steady. "And I didn't want to risk any violence, not when her family is involved."
Your father's gaze softened, a hint of admiration shining through as he regarded Seungcheol. "I see," he said, his tone reflecting a newfound respect for the man standing before him. "That's quite a risk you took, Seungcheol. But I appreciate your efforts to avoid unnecessary bloodshed."
Seungcheol nodded, a sense of relief washing over him as he received your father's approval. "Thank you, sir," he replied, his voice humble. "I just want what's best for Y/N, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe."
Your father's gaze softened as he took in the sight of your swollen eyes and trembling form, the toll of the intense standoff evident in every quiver of your body. With a gentle hand, he placed it on your head, a silent gesture of comfort and reassurance.
"Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with paternal concern, "you need to rest. It's been a long night, and you've been through a lot."
You nodded weakly, the exhaustion washing over you like a tidal wave. Despite the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, the weight of the events that had unfolded left you feeling drained and emotionally spent.
Turning to Seungcheol, your father's expression softened even further. "Take care of her," he instructed, his voice carrying a hint of gratitude. "She's been through enough tonight."
Seungcheol nodded solemnly, his eyes reflecting a sense of determination as he took your hand in his. "I will," he promised, his voice steady. "I'll make sure she gets some rest."
[...]
As you stepped through the door, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, the tension of the night slowly beginning to ebb away.
Without a word, Seungcheol guided you to the couch, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders as he led you to sit down. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver of comfort through you, easing the ache that lingered in your bones.
As you settled onto the couch, Seungcheol disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a blanket and a steaming mug of tea. He draped the blanket over your shoulders, his touch gentle and reassuring, before handing you the mug with a soft smile.
"Drink this," he said softly, his voice laced with concern. "It'll help you relax."
As Seungcheol sat beside you, his gaze filled with concern, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the tension that lingered between you. With a hesitant voice, he broached the subject that had been weighing on his mind since the events of the night unfolded.
"Are you still mad at me?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness
"I'm not mad, Seungcheol," you began, your voice soft but steady. "I'm just... confused."
Seungcheol nodded, his expression filled with empathy as he listened intently. "I understand," he replied, his voice gentle. "I know I've kept things from you, and I'm sorry for that."
You sighed, the frustration and uncertainty of the situation bubbling to the surface. "I just don't understand why you didn't tell me sooner," you admitted.
Seungcheol's expression softened at your words, a hint of regret flashing in his eyes. "I understand," he replied, his voice gentle. "But I want you to know that I never meant to keep anything from you. I just... I didn't know how to tell you."
You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. "I know," you said quietly. "And I forgive you. But moving forward, I don't want there to be any more secrets between us." 
Seungcheol nodded solemnly, his eyes locking with yours in a silent promise. "I agree," he said, his voice firm. "No more secrets. I'll tell you everything, I promise."
The sincerity in his words washed over you like a wave, easing the tension that had settled between you. And as you talked, the conversation flowed freely, the walls between you crumbling away as you laid bare your fears and insecurities.
"It's just... I miss you, Seungcheol," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I miss us. The way things used to be."
Seungcheol's expression softened at your words, his heart aching at the pain he had caused you. "I miss it too," he confessed, his voice filled with longing. "I miss being able to be completely open with you, to share everything without reservation."
You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of love and frustration that threatened to overwhelm you. "I love and hate how you bring out this side of me," you admitted, chuckling. "The side that's open-hearted and vulnerable, that shows my feelings like a teenager in love."
Without another word, you reached out, pulling him close by his neck and capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. Seungcheol leaned into the kiss, his own desire evident in the way he responded, but before things could escalate further, he pulled back, his expression conflicted.
"Y/N, we... we should take things slow," he said gently, his voice tinged with regret. "You've been through a lot tonight, and you need to rest."
But you shook your head, your eyes darkening with desire as you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his in a silent plea for more. "I'm not tired, Seungcheol," you whispered, your breath mingling with his. "Not when I'm with you."
As Seungcheol pulled you onto his lap, a surge of desire coursed through your veins, igniting a fiery passion that consumed you both. His hand tangled in your hair, sending shivers down your spine as he pressed you down onto his throbbing cock.
Desperation fueled your movements as you eagerly tugged at the hem of his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the fabric in your haste to rid him of the barrier between you. With a husky laugh, Seungcheol obliged, lifting his arms to allow you to peel the shirt from his toned torso. 
The sight of his bare chest sent a rush of heat to your core, the muscles rippling beneath his skin a tantalizing invitation that you couldn't resist. Your hands roamed greedily over his chest, tracing every contour and dip as you reveled in the feel of him beneath your fingertips. "You're so eager, aren't you?" he teased, his voice husky with desire. "But don't worry, my love. I'm not going anywhere."
Seungcheol's laughter echoed in the room, a sound that only served to fuel your desire further. With a hungry growl, you leaned in to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your tongues dancing in a passionate tango as you lost yourselves in the heat of the moment.
As you continued to grind your clothed core against Seungcheol's throbbing cock confined within his jeans, the intensity of your arousal reached new heights. The sensation was so intense that you had to break the kiss, letting out a low, guttural moan that reverberated against Seungcheol's lips.
His own desire was evident, his chin quivering as he fought to hold back his own moans of pleasure. But unable to resist any longer, Seungcheol swiftly freed you from your shirt, his hands deftly unclasping your bra and tossing it aside.
With a sense of urgency, Seungcheol lowered his head, capturing one of your exposed nipples in his mouth. A jolt of pleasure shot through you as his warm tongue flicked against the sensitive bud, his lips closing around it in a deliciously tantalizing embrace.
Seungcheol lavished attention on one nipple, his hand eagerly reachingj for the other, his fingers expertly pinching and rolling the hardened peak between his fingertips. 
As you opened your eyes, the world around you seemed to blur for a moment before coming into focus. And in that instant, you realized that you were no longer on the couch, but instead lying naked on Seungcheol's bed.
A surprised gasp escaped your lips as you took in the sight before you, the realization sinking in that Seungcheol had effortlessly whisked you away to his bedroom with incredible speed. It was yet another testament to his quick reflexes and agility, qualities that you found incredibly alluring.
Seungcheol's lips left a trail of wet, fiery kisses down your skin, each one igniting a new wave of desire within you. Your eyes followed his every movement, locking onto his gaze as he looked up at you with a hunger that mirrored your own.
With a slow, deliberate motion, his tongue traced a tantalizing path along your slick folds, eliciting a moan of pleasure from deep within your throat. The sensation of his tongue against your sensitive flesh sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body, your slick wetting his tongue as he continued to explore every inch of your pussy.
But as his tongue teased and tantalized your clit, driving you to the brink of madness with each flick and swirl, you couldn't help but tremble with anticipation.
"Please," you whimpered, your voice thick with desire. "Stop teasing me, Seungcheol. I need you."
Seungcheol's lips curved into a mischievous smile as he looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowing with amusement. "Oh, baby," he cooed, his voice dripping with lust. "But teasing you is half the fun. And besides, I love seeing you squirm and moan for me."
As Seungcheol's tongue lapped at your clit with an intensity that bordered on exquisite torture, you felt a fire ignite within you, consuming you with a burning desire that threatened to consume you whole. Your back arched involuntarily, a promise of the orgasm that loomed tantalizingly close on the horizon.
But just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, Seungcheol abruptly pulled away, leaving you panting and trembling with need. Your legs quivered with embarrassment as he rose from between your thighs, a wicked smile playing on his lips.
Desperate for release, you begged him once more, your voice thick with desire and longing. But instead of granting your request, Seungcheol pouted playfully, delivering little slaps to your swollen pussy that sent shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.
Each slap elicited a gasp of pleasure from deep within your throat, your hips instinctively bucking against his hand in search of more. And when Seungcheol least expected it, you surprised him by cumming just from the sensation of his hand against your sensitive flesh.
With a cry of ecstasy, you grabbed hold of his wrist, pressing his hand firmly against your throbbing cunt as you rode out the waves of pleasure that crashed over you. 
"Well, well, well," he teased, his voice dripping with a hint of mockery. "Looks like someone's a little too eager, hmm? Cumming just from a few little slaps on that pretty little pussy of yours."
With a coy tilt of your head, you met his gaze squarely, your voice steady despite the lingering traces of embarrassment. "Well then," you said, your tone playful yet assertive. "Are you going to fuck this pussy or what?"
Seungcheol's sudden assertiveness took you by surprise, his red ears and the way his pants and underwear fell to the ground signaling his overwhelming desire. Before you could react, he had manhandled you around the room, pressing your back against the wall with a force that left you breathless.
"Since you want to feel this cock," he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine, "you're going to feel it entirely."
With that, he thrust his cock deep inside of your pussy, your walls clenching around him as he filled you completely. His grip tightened behind your legs, holding you securely against him as you clung to his neck, your nails digging into his skin with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.
As the position allowed him to hit your g'spot with each powerful thrust, pleasure surged through you in waves, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole. Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, your body arching against his as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washed over you.
Seungcheol's voice was a low, guttural moan as he continued to drive into you, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice thick with desire. "Feeling me deep inside you, hitting all the right spots."
"Oh God! Seungcheol-ah!"
Seungcheol's eyes darkened with desire as he heard you moan his name, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "That's it, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Moan my name again. I want to hear you scream it."
His words sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment. With a sense of urgency, you complied, your voice a breathless whisper as you cried out his name once more.
"Seungcheol," you moaned, the sound echoing through the room as pleasure washed over you in a relentless wave. "Oh god, Seungcheol, yes!"
With a hand tangled in Seungcheol's hair, you felt the tension building within you, the waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. "I'm cumming, baby, I'm cumming," you warned, your voice trembling with anticipation as you felt the climax approaching.
Seungcheol responded with slow, sharp, and hard thrusts, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. The sensation was almost too much to bear, but you welcomed it eagerly, relishing in the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you.
"I got you, baby, I got you," Seungcheol murmured, his voice filled with reassurance and desire. "Oh my god, cum for me."
His words were all it took to push you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure as you creamed all over his cock. The sound of your release mixed with the slickness of your arousal filled the room, a symphony of wetness that echoed off the walls.
In that moment, any doubts you had about Seungcheol's strength faded away, replaced by the certainty of his embrace. His arms held you so tight that you couldn't help but feel safe, trusting him completely to carry you through the intensity of your orgasm.
As Seungcheol gazed into your eyes, he couldn't help but be captivated by the lazy smile that played on your lips, your gaze still clouded with the aftermath of pleasure. He gently lay you back on the bed, his fingers trailing along your skin as he asked if you could handle another round.
"Ready for round two, baby?" Seungcheol murmured, his voice thick with desire as he positioned himself between your legs. "I want to make you cum again, even harder this time."
Your breath caught in your throat at his words, excitement coursing through you as you eagerly awaited his touch. "Oh god, yes," you moaned, your voice a breathless whisper. "Please, Seungcheol, fuck me hard."
You nodded eagerly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as you spread your legs for him, inviting him to take you once more. 
With a growl of approval, Seungcheol buried his cock deep inside of your sopping cunt, the sensation of him filling you once again sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. With each powerful thrust, he drove deeper into you, feeling your pussy getting tighter every second. 
"Fuck, you feel so good," Seungcheol groaned, his voice thick with lust as he lost himself in the rhythm of your bodies moving together. "I could fuck you like this all night long."
"Yes, Seungcheol," you moaned, your voice hoarse already "Fuck me harder, baby. Make me cum all over your cock."
Seungcheol whimpered at your words, you could feel the intensity of his desire growing, his cock twitching inside of you with each thrust. Determined to drive him over the edge, you watched with anticipation as he licked his thumb and began to massage your clit with incredible speed.
As your pussy clenched around him, Seungcheol felt a surge of pleasure shoot through his body, his own orgasm crashing over him with an intensity that left him trembling. He watched you in awe, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you screamed in pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as you rode out the waves of your climax.
With almost closed eyes, Seungcheol's gaze remained fixed on you, his own pleasure mirrored in the way his body convulsed with each pulse of release. His hands trembled around your hips as his cum spilled into you, filling you up with each pulsating throb.
Despite his best efforts to keep up the dirty talk, Seungcheol found himself overcome by the overwhelming sensation of pleasure, his words reduced to incoherent moans and stuttered phrases. "Oh god," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "You feel so good, baby. So fucking good."
As Seungcheol crawled to you and laid his head on your chest, hugging you tightly, you felt a sense of warmth and comfort enveloping you. But when you felt the hot tears against your skin, your heart clenched with worry.
"What's wrong, Seungcheol?" you asked softly, your voice filled with tenderness and concern. "Why are you crying?"
His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he met your gaze, his expression a mixture of sadness and regret. "I just... I can't believe how brave you were today," he murmured. "You risked everything to protect me, even after everything that happened. And I... I just wish I could have protected you better."
Your heart ached at his words, the depth of his love and concern for you shining through despite his tears. Wrapping your arms around him, you held him close, offering him comfort and reassurance in the face of his distress.
"You don't need to protect me, Seungcheol," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "We protect each other. That's what love is all about."
Seungcheol's tears continued to fall, but you could sense a glimmer of relief in his eyes as he leaned into your embrace, finding solace in your words.
"I missed you so much, Seungcheol," you whispered, your voice filled with love and longing. "More than you'll ever know."
His eyes softened at your words, a small smile playing on his lips as he reached out to cup your cheek tenderly. "I love you," he said softly, his voice a gentle caress against your skin.
894 notes · View notes
roaron · 1 year
Note
Okay, but what if THEY walk on you mastubating??
- OMG I was planning to do this and you just reminded me, thank you very much stranger for feeding into my delusions. i deadass can’t believe that this is how I spend my time. ENJOY (´∀`=)
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MHA boys catching you masturbating
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authors note - I tried to make this as gender neutral as I could so that everyone could read this without feeling left out and shit. hope I did y’all justice one again. ENJOY ! ALSO, thank you all for the submissions and request, im already working on like 10 !! they’ll be out really soon trust me :))
characters - (izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugo, shoto todoroki)
warnings - nsfw obviously
minors im onto y’all, either be sneaky or pick your ass up and get out this class yfm ☆
ENJOY (´∀`=)
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Izuku Midoriya
- as perfect as your boyfriend izuku was, he was a very busy man. crime didn’t fight itself and as the number 1 hero, he had a duty to protect. so after a tiring day of saving people, izuku comes home in hopes that you could both cuddle and he’d fall asleep in your arms.
- he makes his way to the bedroom and that’s when he begins to hear soft moans coming from inside the room. soft moans of HIS name.
- he quietly opens the door and the sight before him almost makes him drop to his knees. on your shared bed lies you with your legs wide open, a hand delving in and out of your hole, and another hand playing with your perky nipple as your head is flung back in satisfaction.
- the view in front of him, added to the pornographic sounds you were making drove him over the edge as he feels his pants tighten. he bites his bottom lip and his lids hang low over his eyes as he approaches you and sits at the corner of the bed, still going unnoticed.
- subconsciously he reaches a hand out towards you and strokes your leg, making you jump.
“I-IZUKU ?? OH MY GOODNESS !”
- you hastily attempt to grab a pillow to cover yourself but your boyfriend stops you right in your tracks, moving to tower over your naked form and pin your wrists down onto the bed.
“no no no, please don’t y/n. i really want to see.”
- he then let’s go of your wrists and moves away from you, sitting cross legged on the bed in front of you, staring at you intently before reaching a hand into his pants and resting it there.
- it takes you a moment before realising he’s waiting for you, only then do you continue touching yourself and that’s when you notice how he begins touching himself too.
Katsuki Bakugo
- it was starting to get lonely around the house, and it was only the second day that your boyfriend bakugo had left for his 2 week hero trip. you sulked for the entire day, missing his presence, the way he holds you, the way he kisses you. the way he touches you.
- just the thought of him touching you brings heat to your face. you rush to your shared room and begin to take off your clothes. first your robe, then your panties. a pretty pink one that bakugo had gotten you.
- you lie back on your shared bed and begin to work on the problem between you legs, stuffing yourself with your fingers and crying out your boyfriends name, pretending it was him fucking you.
- unknown to you, your boyfriend had just arrived home to tell you the trip was cancelled and that his friend izuku had taken care of it, knowing how bakugo doesn’t like being away from you.
- but as he walked through the door, the first thing that greets him is a loud moan of his own name. bakugo stands frozen and confused as to what was going on. he calls for you but there’s no response so his first instinct is to head towards the bedroom.
- he swings the bedroom door open and that’s when he sees you.
“oh my fucking god.”
- you immediately notice his voice and let out a cry, grabbing a pillow and covering yourself in complete and total embarrassment.
“k-katsuki, I didn’t know you were home..”
- you couldn’t believe what had just happened but when you looked up at your boyfriends face, you noticed him reaching down to pick up the pink panties you’d discarded on the floor. you shriek as he then makes his way over to you and stares deep into your eyes.
“really y/n. you couldn’t fucking wait.”
- you look away, unable to maintain eye contact but bakugo just grabs your face and snaps it so that you are forced to look at him. he looks from your eyes to your lips before pushing his mouth against yours, tearing the pillow you’d been holding away from you and replacing your hands between your legs with his own. hastily pumping his fingers inside of you, while swallowing all of your moans within the kiss.
“as much as I love you y/n, you really are a whore.”
Shoto Todoroki
- shoto had only left about an hour ago to go and spend the day with his family, trying to rekindle the bond between him and his father was no easy task, but he’d faced harder ones. being the number three hero and all. you were the one who convinced him to go and yet now you need him more than anything.
- you didn’t want to tell him how horny you were before he left, because you knew that he wouldn’t want to go with his family and would instead prefer to stay home and fuck you.
- you sigh to yourself and make your way to the bedroom you both share, preparing to spend your time touching yourself instead of having your gorgeous boyfriend have his way with you.
- now naked with you back against the headboard of the bed and with your hand buried between your thighs, you let out soft moans of shotos name, craving his love and his touch, you wished that he was here with you, praising you and kissing away your flaws.
- completely lost in your own pleasure, you fail to realise that shoto had returned home in search of you after having an argument with his father. you also failed to realise that he was in fact stood tall in the doorframe, staring at your shaking figure. his eyes staring at the wet mess between your legs and your needy fingers.
“y/n, my love.”
- you jump back to reality and notice your boyfriend standing in front of you, his head tilted upwards with his eyes staring downwards at you, almost in a degrading way. it only made you want him more.
“shoto, please come here.”
- not a second goes by before shoto is in front of you, kneeled on the bed awaiting your commands. he could switch between dominant and submissive so quickly, it’s one of the many things about him that drove you crazy.
- you shyly gestured to the space between your legs, and with that, shoto dipped his head down and put his mouth to work.
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feyascorner · 4 months
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jealousy looks good on you
summary. Astarion realizes you're jealous after a night out at the tavern where he must gather information from another. And him being him, teasing ensues.
warnings. fluff, idk just two idiots doing idiotic things, Tav here is good oriented, sorry to evil tav players,,,
pairing. Astarion x GN!reader
a/n. I love morons in love,,
You were not jealous. Especially not of that damned elf practically hanging off from his arm.
You'd encountered devils, walking brains, even the greatest of beasts during your adventures, yet not once have you felt nothing but utter annoyance. Like an obnoxious fly circling your head insistently no matter how much you swatted at it.
You'd never considered yourself possessive of your dearest companion. Sure, you were protective of him at times, but so were you with the rest of your group, especially knowing what each person had gone through in their lives. And while being lovers might've given an extra kick to that boundary, by no means were you excessively watching him like a hawk.
But now here you were, not watching him, but her.
Information, you remind yourself. You'd nearly forgotten why he was even tolerating her behavior in the first place, because even if he was flirtacious by nature, his tendencies narrowed down towards only you after your conversation at Moonrise. You knew he dreaded this as much as you, but the information that woman had was a must—and Astarion had insisted he could help out.
You were sincerely regretting even entertaining the idea now.
She has her chest pressed flush to the toned muscles of his arm, making sure he’s aware of what qualities she has to offer. With a bat of her lashes, she lets out a shrill laughter when he mumbles something, playfully hitting his chest as if it's the funniest thing in the world.
You’ll show her something really fucking funny at this rate—
Patience, you remind yourself. Breathe. In and out. This is unlike the qualities of a hero trying to save the city. Shooting an arrow at the woman would do nothing but cause panic. Why did you even want to get so violent in the first place? A little minor bump in the road shouldn't make you this angry, should it?
You seriously don't want to watch anymore—especially when he leans toward her to whisper something in her ear and she lets out that rage-inducing giggle again—so you down the rest of your alcohol and run a hand down your face.
You don't notice his eyes glancing at you every few moments, too busy calming your nerves.
A few minutes later, you hear the scrape of his chair pushing back and a rush of relief floods you when you see him stand, face content in a way that tells you the mission was successful. You thank the Gods above because any more of this and you certainly would've committed some sort of crime-
The woman takes his hand, shaking her head before giving him a sly smile. The breaths you took earlier seem to have no effect the second she motions towards the door, her fingers still wrapped around his hand like a death sentence.
You should trust him, you think.
He's had more experience in this than anyone else.
You can't see his expression, but the second you see hers drop, you're suddenly moving across the entire tavern. He whips around when he hears your steps and the relief on his face almost calms you. Almost.
“Hello, dear,” you accentuate. And though your eyes are trained on his, you're more focused on the woman from your side view. “Ready to leave? Sorry I had to catch up with a friend earlier.”
He raises a brow for a moment, and you suspect it’s because you were never supposed to even be in the plan. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze and look away, embarrassed to have let your emotions alter the mission so much—but he seems more than pleased. In fact, the bastard grins.
“Yes, my love,” he snickers, snatching his arm away from the woman and looping the other around the waist. “Let us hurry. I cannot stand another moment being unable to ravage you under such—prying eyes.”
Somehow, your face gets hotter.
Before the woman can respond (though you doubt she even wanted to), he's leading you out the tavern into the cold air of the streets for a much needed breather on your part. You're almost certain you won't be going to that tavern for a while.
“‘My dear’?” he mimics, his lips stretching wider. “I’d believed I was the one with pet names in our relationship. You'd seemed quite adamant on calling me by my given name after all. Had a change of heart?”
Your voice is a mumble as you retort. “Must be the alcohol.”
“Really? Because if I didn't know any better, and I do,” he stops the two of you around the corner of the building in an isolated spot, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’d think you were jealous back there, darling.”
“I was just worried about you,” you blurt in a hurry. “Otherwise I wouldn't have butt in and—”
“Oh, my sweet sweet love,” he laughs. “I could feel you glaring from across the building. And I'm sure I could've sworn to see you slam your goblet a few times. No need to be ashamed. Jealousy is quite normal, and I'm more than flattered.”
“I’m not—” you begin, but her face flashes in your mind again. The way she'd touched his arms, his chest, and you knew she'd never know him the way you do. But it didn't quell the annoyance flickering in your chest. He raises a brow expectantly for your answer, and you quietly lift your hand to his arm, dusting it off.
Dusting her off.
And finally, you accept it. “I’m going to burn those clothes.”
He snorts. “I’m sure there's more romantic ways of getting me naked, but this’ll have to do for now.”
“I will. Then I’ll bury the ashes somewhere.”
“Charming.”
You look at him, disappointed—not in him, but yourself. Before you can drown in your own thoughts, he lifts his fingers to caress your face, smiling. “There really was no need to be jealous, darling.”
“I know,” you mutter. “I just—seeing her practically begging for your attention pissed me off.”
“And there's the difference between you and her. If it's worth even comparing at all,” he says, planting a peck to your forehead. “She begs a hopeless cause while I beg for you.”
You roll your eyes playfully. “You don't need to beg me for attention.”
“I’m aware. I know how much you're fond of me and my gorgeous eyelashes.” You sigh at this. “But I must admit that a selfish part of me is a bit pleased by your reaction to that vile woman.”
“Why? This feels horrible.”
“Well, now you get a taste of what I want to do when I see you with that damned cleric,” he groans at the thought. “Yes, I am aware you two are the giddiest of friends, but whenever she puts her hands all over you for the sake of healing—”
You burst into a fit of laughter. “How else is she supposed to help?”
“I’m sure she can heal you from a safe distance away. Preferably twelve feet. Maybe more.”
Wordlessly, you calm your smile and press your lips to his, your fingers running through white curls. He holds you like you’re made of glass, gently.
The kiss is soft, even as you finally pull away. “Stupid vampire.”
“Silly darling.”
You don't complain when he pulls you closer for one last kiss.
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perlelune · 5 months
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no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | iv.
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Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.
Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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The warmth of the sun caresses  your eyelids as they quake open. You groan, stirring under the sheets. But instantly, you freeze. Pain cascades through your body. A soreness starting at the apex of your thighs and radiating through your limbs has you struggling to move.
Still, you do it, pushing past the weird feeling embedded in your flesh. 
Your brows collide as you attempt to remember. 
Where are you? How did you get here?
The damask walls are unfamiliar and the gigantic bed even more so. You comb through your memories but nothing surfaces, a violent headache assailing your senses whenever you think too hard. You squint at light pouring through the half-drawn velvet curtains. You peel off the heavy blanket, gaze traveling downward. Ice spreads through your veins. 
You’re shocked to find yourself stark naked, skin speckled with darkening bruises. Even worse, a tiny crimson spot stains the white sheet covering the mattress. You shudder. 
Your breaths start to quicken. Quivering, you grip the sheet, twisting it between your fingers as disbelief rocks through your core. The blood on it seems to enlarge, painting your whole vision red.
As you inspect the room, noticing the state of the rumpled bedding and your clothes lying in a heap near the bed, denial clashes with the blatant truth. 
It can’t be. Yet all the evidence is staring right at you. 
You start to hyperventilate. 
The door cracks open and your head jerks to the side. Coriolanus’ towering frame fills the doorway. There’s a silver tray in his hands and the smell of coffee and fresh toast rise from it.
You take in his tousled blonde locks and his half-unbuttoned blouse. He looks more disheveled than you’ve ever seen him. A gentle smile hovers on his lips. But, as he registers your distressed state, it vanishes. He rushes to you, placing the tray on the mahogany nightstand near the bed.
Face growing hot, you tug the blanket so it conceals your nakedness.
“Hey, take it easy, princess,” he whispers, brows knitting as his hands reach your cheeks to cup them.
Chest rising and falling at a fast pace, you stutter, “C-Coryo, what happened last night?”
He doesn’t answer right away. Concern sparkles in his cobalt orbs, pellucid as crystal in the morning light.
He caresses your face and gingerly says, “It was…a bit of a wild night.”
You scowl at his response. It’s not what you’re asking and he knows it. 
You lick your lips, gathering the tiny embers of courage sizzling within you.
You don’t want to ask what you’re about to ask. Hell, you might not even want to know. But you have to. You have to because there’s a pit of discomfort and confusion within you and it’s swelling by the second.
You take a deep breath and inquire, “Why am I naked? Why…Why is there blood on the sheets?”
His frown accentuates.
“Princess…”
You nudge his hands away from your face as your patience dissolves.
“Tell me,” you emphasize.
His jaw ticks at your reaction. He then releases a deep sigh.
“You drank a bit too much. We both did.”
A sinking feeling blooms in your stomach. Your eyes grow saucer-wide as the words are snatched from your tongue.
You’re statue-still as Coriolanus’ fingertips wander over your arm, stroking up and down lightly. 
“You were having so much fun, genuine fun.” His voice softens. “It was the first time in a long time I saw you smiling this much.” He pauses, holding your gaze. “And I suppose…there were budding feelings and we got carried away.” Your jaw drops. “You told me you needed me. And I had quite a few drinks myself.” He chuckles but it’s bereft of humor. “I wasn’t thinking straight. I don’t remember all of it either, just you begging for me and screaming my name.”
Warmth gathers in your cheeks. 
“God. You and I, we…”
Coriolanus nods. “Yes.”
Tears well up in your eyes. Coriolanus wipes each of them, uttering tenderly, “I know you didn’t want it to happen that way, but at least it was with me, right?”
You’re at a loss for words. Sure, it’s better for it to be Coryo than a stranger…at least in some way. But as naive and old-fashioned as it is, you wanted to save yourself for your first love, for your future husband. You looked forward to your first experience being one of absolute love and trust…one you actually could cherish and, most crucially, remember. 
Now it’s forever ruined. 
Your heart plummets.
“I need to go home. I need to-” Clutching the sheet against your bare form, you try to climb off the bed. 
Coriolanus seizes your shoulders, easily cinching you to your spot.
You glower at him, puzzled and frustrated. 
Still holding your shoulders, he explains, “Like this, princess? Are you sure that this is a good idea?” His soft inflection drips concern. He bends closer to you. “Your parents, William…What would they think?”
This gives you pause.
You lower your head, pondering his words.
Dread mounts within you as you realize how right he is. You could spin falsehoods to your parents until you’re blue in the face but they’ll know something is off the second they lay their eyes on you. Especially your mom.
One look at you and she’ll guess exactly what occurred. Or some of it at least.
It’s been like this since you were brought into their home as a little girl.
Nothing ever gets past Demetria Plinth’s keen eye.
Then who knows what they might ask you to do to preserve your honor and dignity? 
The thought makes your insides twist in knots.
You tossed away your virtue out of wedlock, you betrayed William, you besmirched your family name. You’re a disgrace.
There aren’t a million options in cases such as yours, and it’s a scenario you’d like to avoid. 
It guts you to imagine not only ruining your life, but Coriolanus’ as well. All because of one stupid drunken mistake. 
Besides, while it might be foolish and presumptuous in your current predicament, you still want to marry William. He’s the man of your dreams. You suppose it’s just a matter of whether or not he’ll even want you now.
Folding your knees, you tuck them against your chest and wrap your arms around your ankles. Tears stream down your face as you quaver, “I don’t know what to do.”
Silence hangs in the air as you weep, Coriolanus rubbing your shoulder in quiet support.
After a while, he suggests, “You could come to my place.”
Your head snaps up.
“What?”
His thumb presses along your collarbone.
“Just for a few days. It’ll give you time to rest, get yourself together.”
“No, Coryo, I can’t ask you…” You shake your head, guilt clawing at your heart. “I’m horrible and I should-”
“You’re far from horrible,” he interrupts, placing his long fingers on the side of your face. “But you need a little time, right?”
You give a shaky nod, despising yourself. You’re a coward. Instead of facing your actions and their consequences, you’re running away, hiding. 
“Just let me handle everything, princess.” His knuckles sweep over your cheek, collecting more fresh tears. “I’ll take care of it and it’ll be like none of it ever happened.”
“W-Where are we right now?” you ask, trying to distract yourself from the storm of anguish raging inside you.
“Oh, this is one of the many spare rooms of the Dovecote estate,” he replies casually, though you discern a hint of something. Disdain, perhaps? 
“Clemensia…”
“I talked to her,” he reassures. “Don’t worry, she won’t tell a soul.”
You can’t imagine Clemensia doing anything to help you but you suppose, for Coryo, she would.
“She also made sure to quell any rumors before they can start.”
Your forehead creases. “Rumors?”
He gives your hair absent strokes as he sighs. “People know how close we are, princess.” Your heart skips a beat. He angles your chin upward, his gaze confident. “Don’t you worry, okay? I’ll take care of you. All you need to do is trust me.”
You acquiesce and it elicits a broad, tight-lipped smile from him.
He rises from the bed.
“How about you grab a bite?” he offers, bending to graze his lips over your forehead. “The car will be here in less than an hour.”
A car, already? Part of you is astounded by his swiftness but your distress overtakes everything else. You should count your blessings that no one else knows about last night.
You take perfunctory bites of the toast on the tray and sip a few gulps of the tepid coffee.
Once more, you try to remember. You wince when another throbbing headache hits you. 
All you can see are Coriolanus’ bright blue eyes and his smile. Nothing else emerges. 
So, you give it a rest. Maybe in time, everything will come back to you. 
For now, you just need to trust your friend. 
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You shroud yourself in silence the entire drive to Coriolanus’ home. He keeps smiling at you from the seat near yours and you return it meekly. While you know it’s not his fault, you find it nearly impossible to meet his gaze, an uncomfortable feeling pitting in your stomach whenever you do. Anxiety bounces in your gut when the Corso comes into view. 
You haven’t been here very often, though your dad often spoke of moving here, where most of Panem’s elite resides. The thought of leaving your childhood home doesn’t thrill you but you’re keenly aware of what the Corso represents in Strabo’s eyes. The sign that the Plinth family made it. And to add this kind of feather in his cap, your father would move you and your mother to a smaller place in a heartbeat. You know he is only waiting for the paperwork to be signed.
It’s something you’ve tried to forget as of late. And now you’re cruelly reminded of it.
The car comes to a stop in front of an antique apartment building. Your eyes wander above the window. Piles of rubble still sit amidst the place, a reminder of the Dark Days perhaps.
Coriolanus opens your door and offers you his hand. You accept it and stagger out of the car.
He removes his coat and throws it on your shoulders, swaddling your shivering frame. You’re thankful. You’re still wearing the same red dress from the night before and it hardly shields you from the cold. 
You can’t help but soak in every detail as you and Coryo take the elevator to the penthouse. You sometimes wondered how the wealthiest in Panem lived. Your parent’s house is nice but this is different. Every inch of the building from floor to ceiling screams luxury.
As soon as you’ve crossed the doorstep of the penthouse, slender arms wrap you in a warm hug.
Tigris’ eyes glimmer as they rest on you.
“Coryo said you’re going to stay with us for a while,” she chimes. “How wonderful.”
“Only for a day or two,” you correct.
She squeezes your hands. “Then we’ll have to make the best of it.”
An old woman appears from an adjacent room. She strolls to you, a small smile etched on her lips. Uttering no word, she presses a white rose between your hands. You examine it. It looks exactly like the ones Coriolanus sometimes wears on his breast pocket. 
“Is this your grandma?” you whisper as the old woman wanders off, humming a tune you vaguely recognize as Panem’s anthem.
Tigris’ lips curl skywards. “Yes, but we call her grandma’am.” She giggles. “It’s much more distinguished.” Sadness glistens in her amber gaze. “She isn’t…all the way here these days, but she still tends to her roses.”
Coriolanus wedges himself between the two of you.
“She’s tired, Tigris. You have to let her rest,” he informs.
“Of course. We’ll catch up tomorrow. Promise?”
You give a weary smile. “Promise.”
“I’m so very glad you’re here,” she says, hugging you again before taking her leave.
Coriolanus guides you through the apartment, his hand curled around the small of your back.
“I’ll show you to your room.”
He takes you to an opulent room with a massive bed in the middle. 
“I had a bath drawn for you,” he announces.
Your eyes round as you note the copper clawfoot tub sitting near the bed. Stunned, you approach it. Your fingers drag along the edge of the tub.
Flower petals float atop the steaming water. 
“I’ll leave you to it, princess.” He drops a quick peck on your forehead before disappearing.
You lock the door as soon as he leaves and peel the crimson dress off your body. You’ve half a mind to destroy it once you return home. Your mother would probably be appalled at that considering its price…but you can’t see yourself wearing it ever again.
The water’s burning hot when you plop inside the tub. You welcome it.
You bring your knees to your chest as you stare at the rose petals. You wish your worries could melt away in the water the way dirt and grime can.
But no such luck. So you’re left contemplating the tiny ripples form above the surface as you swallow yet another surge of tears threatening to spill.
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A soft high-pitched voice draws you back to consciousness. Groggily, you sit up in the bed.
Tigris’ beaming face greets you.
“Are you okay? You slept past dinner. Coryo said not to disturb you.”
You look around.
Stars pepper the night sky outside the stained glass windows. You can’t believe you took such a long nap. You vaguely remember burying yourself between the sheets after your bath. You didn’t want to think, or even be awake. You wished for oblivion. So you let sleep ensnare you as soon as your head hit the pillows.
Your features scrunch. Your memory’s still foggy, but the headaches have abated at least.
“The maid can warm you a plate if you like,” Tigris offers.
You shake your head. You have no appetite.
“I just hate that I overslept.”
Sympathy dawns on the young woman’s face.
“Your body must have needed it. Coryo said you guys partied pretty hard last night?”
Your heart wrenches. But you try not to let anything show on your face, giving a placid nod.
“Besides, you don’t have anywhere to be, do you?” she inquires.
Your stomach sinks. You were supposed to meet with William today, but you can’t imagine seeing him in your current state. 
“No, I don’t,” you lie.
Your gaze meanders about the room. Surprise ripples through you at the wooden trunk you detect in a corner of the room by the wardrobe.
“What’s this?”
“Oh, Coryo had your things brought over,” Tigris replies casually.
You gasp. “But I won’t be staying long. He shouldn’t have gone through the trouble.”
“He said he wants you to be as comfortable as possible.”
A deep, familiar voice echoes in the room. “She’s right. After all, our home is your home, princess.”
Your eyes find Coriolanus'. His tall frame fills the door. He looks like his usual self now, his blond locks neatly slicked back and his outfit impeccable.
Guilt creeps inside you following his statement.
“I should warn my parents,” you muse aloud as you rise from the bed. 
Coriolanus shares a look with his cousin.
“Tigris, can you give us a moment?”
She nods before heading for the door.
You try to do the same, panic swelling inside you, but Coriolanus blocks your way as he stands before the door. He towers over you with ease, hands clasped at his back as he leans against the doorjamb. 
You give him a puzzled look.
“I already sent them a letter,” he reveals.
“Oh,” you mumble.
“I just told them you’re with us and you’re fine.” He smiles. “It’s the least I could do.”
“The least?” you scoff. “You’ve already done so much for me, Coryo.”
“Like I said, I don’t want you to worry about a thing.”
He licks his lips, scrutinizing you a while before continuing, “You’re not just a guest. You’re family. You can stay for as long as necessary.”
This makes tears spring to your eyes. You dip your head but his digits sneak below your chin, tilting it upward so your gazes meet.
“What’s wrong?”
Your voice comes out a watery croak.
“You shouldn’t be so nice to me,” you sob, tears skipping down your face freely now.
You erected a fence around your emotions and now the dam is shattering.
He slants his head. “Why not?”
You don’t reply, a flood of tears blurring your vision. You grow overwhelmed, unable to utter a word as strangled sobs spill from your throat.
Coriolanus’ arms coil around your frame. He cradles the back of your head, tucking it against his chest.
His dulcet timbre breezes over the top of your head.
“It’s okay, princess. You’re safe. You’re always safe with me,” he whispers, letting your tears drench his blouse.
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