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waitimcomingtoo · 6 months

Text

Two Normal Arms

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader

Synopsis: when Peter breaks his arm, he notices he gets a lot of attention from you. So much attention that he prolongs the broken arm as long as he can

Masterlist

Peter had a strict no texting while swinging rule.

That rule was broken one night on patrol during a particularly heated back and forth text conversation with Ned over whether chili was a soup or an entirely different category of food. Peter didn’t feel like waiting until he got home to respond, so he texted with one hand while he shot webs with the other. His eyes were glued to his phone as he went to grab a web that wasn’t anywhere close to where he thought it was. He went crashing to the ground, landing right on his right arm. He heard the crunch loud and clear and let out a little whimper. Peter peeled himself off the pavement and pulled his mask off to look at his arm.

“Well that’s not good.” He mumbled when he saw the curve in a place his arm didn’t typically curve.

He knew there was no way he could swing home with the arm but he was too far to walk. He looked around and realized he was in your neighborhood. He’d been to your place once before when Tony first bought you an apartment and wondered if he could find it again by memory. He ran up and down the block until he spotted a window with a light on near the top floor of a building twice the size of Peters. He could see a little Iron Man flag in the window and took a leap of faith that that was your apartment. He cradled his arm to his chest and gingerly climbed the side of the building until he reached the window. He used his head to knock on the window and sighed in relief when he saw you running to open it.

“Peter? What are you doing up here?” You whispered.

“I’m sorry. I would never bother you at home but I got hurt really badly and I can’t swing.” Peter winced and held up his arm. You could see exactly where the break was and put a hand over your mouth.

“Oh my God. Come in.” You said as you wrapped an arm around him and helped him inside. You helped Peter sit down on your couch before sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

“Let me see this.” You said and gently moved his hand away from his arm. It was bent in an awkward way and resembled an “s”, something you didn’t know arms could do.

“Is it bad?” Peter asked you.

“One second.” You smiled sweetly and calmly walked into the next room. When you returned, you had a forced smile on your face.

“It’s not bad.” You answered him.

“You went over there to gag gagged, didn’t you?”

“I did. I’m sorry.” You cringed. “Broken bones gross me out.”

“Oh shit. You think it’s broken?” Peter asked and held the arm up. It limply hung in the air and you gagged again.

“Peter, honey, it looks like a fish hook.”

“Yeah. That’s probably not good, right?” He asked as he looked at it.

“I need to get you to a hospital.” You decided and grabbed your car keys.

“A hospital? That won’t be necessary. There’s no need for all that fuss. Can’t we just wrap it up and call it a day?” Peter laughed nervously.

“I don’t think so. I can put bandaids on your other cuts but this needs to be looked at by a real doctor.”

“You said you’ve seen every season of Greys Anatomy right? Can’t you just put on an episode and do what they do?”

“All they do is have sex during work hours. We can’t do that right now.” You shook your head as you threw your coat on. Peter stopped panicking for a second and felt his face heat up.

“But later?” He asked. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and set your keys down.

“Hang on. We gotta get you out of those clothes.”

“Really? Now?” Peter gulped and grabbed his shirt with his free hand.

“Well we can’t get checked out as Spiderman without the doctors seeing this pretty face.” You teased and cupped his chin before walking towards your room.

“Oh. Right.” He blushed and touched his chin.

“I’ll grab some of my stuff.” You called from your room. You returned shortly with a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. Peter pressed the button on the center of his suit and shimmied out of it before making eye contact with you. You gulped and quickly turned around to give him some privacy. Peter blushed and stood up to shake the suit onto the floor. He gingerly stepped into the pants and pulled them up with one hand. When it came to the hoodie, he knew there was no way he could put it on with one arm.

“Um….” He said as he struggled to get his head in the hoodie.

“You need help?” You asked over your shoulder.

“Yes please.”

You laughed and turned around to help Peter get dressed. You pulled his head through the opening and laughed when his messy hair stuck straight up.

“Thank you.” Peter smiled shyly as you fixed his hair.

“Anytime.” You smiled back.

“I kinda hate that your pants fit me.” He said sheepishly and looked down at the pants you had given him.

“Why? I think you look great in my clothes.”

“Oh. Well thank you.” He blushed. “You’d probably look great in mine.”

“I don’t know if I have the muscles to fill out your suit.” You sighed and nodded towards his discarded suit.

“It doesn’t have to be the suit. You’d look good in just my T shirt.”

“Just your T shirt?” You asked coyly, making Peter go bright red.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He quickly explained.

“We can put your theory to the test later. Let’s get your arm looked at first.” You said and pulled him towards the door. Peter gulped and made it all the way to the car before stopping in his tracks.

“I can’t go to the hospital.” He blurted. You stopped and looked at him and we’re supposed to see the embarrassed look on his face as he cradled his arm.

“Why not?” You asked him as you put your hand on his shoulder. Peter looked at your hand before looking into your eyes and sighing.

“My aunt would never be able to afford it with her new job.” He admitted. “We’re barely making rent as it is. I can’t put this on her.”

“So don’t.” You shrugged. “Put it on my dads card.”

“I can’t just charge my medical bills to your dad.” Peter laughed uncomfortably.

“Sure you can. He won’t even notice. And if he asks about the card, I’ll just tell him I was shopping.” You insisted and pulled Peter towards your car.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” He shook his head and stayed where he was.

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Actually, I’m forcing. Get in the car.” You insisted as you opened the passenger door. You playfully pushed him into the car and buckled his seatbelt for him. You then climbed into the drivers seat and started the car.

“Thank you.” He smiled shyly when you looked over at him.

“Of course. You can trust me, Peter. I’m your friend.” You smiled back and started to drive.

“Right.” His nodded as his smile faltered a little at the word “friend” but he didn’t say anything. By the time you pulled up to the hospital, Peter was in bad shape. His arm was swelling and causing him more pain than he had ever felt. You opened his door and helped him out of the car, feeling the way he was barely able to hold himself up.

“Hey, Y/n?” Peter winced and held on tight to you.

“Yeah, Peter?”

“Do you think you could lift someone my size?”

“Maybe. Why?”

“Because I’m about to pass out.” He said right before collapsing onto the ground.

When Peter woke up later in his hospital bed, he felt a whole lot better. So much better, in fact, that he didn’t even notice the giant blue cast on his arm. He didn’t know if it was the morphine he had been given or fact that you were sitting at his bedside with your hand that was keeping him pain free.

“Hey, Peter.” You smiled softly at him and brushed the hair off his forehead. Peter sat up a little in his bed and smiled back.

“So pretty. You look nothing like your dad.” He said sleepily.

“What was that?” You laughed even though you had definitely heard him.

“Want jello.” Peter said and licked his dry lips. You held his cup of water to his lips and helped him drink as the doctor came in.

“Oh, good. He’s awake.” The doctor said.

“Woah. What happened?” Peter asked ad he noticed his cast.

“We had to do surgery on your arm to set the bone back into place. You’ll be in a cast for the next six to eight weeks.”

“I didn’t know your favorite color so I picked blue. I hope that’s okay.” You explained sheepishly.

“Blue is great. Thank you.” Peter smiled at you as he slowly felt more with it.

“It’s a good thing your girlfriend brought you in when she did. You had free fluid in your arm. It could’ve been much worse if you hadn’t come in right away.” The doctor told him.

“Oh. She’s not my-“

“Thank, doctor. Is there anything we should do now?” You cut him off as you turned to the doctor.

“He’s safe to bring home. Just keep the arm elevated and don’t get it wet. I can prescribe some pain meds as well.”

“Thank you. And could we get some jello too please?” You requested.

“No problem. I’ll be right back with that.” The doctor smiled and left the room.

“You broke your wrist, elbow and radius bone. Which I just found out is the bone in between your wrist and elbow. Who knew it had a name? But that’s why the cast goes so high.” You explained to Peter once you were alone.

“Damn. That’s a lot of bones. No wonder it hurts.” He said and shifted uncomfortably in the bed. It didn’t actually hurt that bad, but he liked it when you were worried about him.

“Oh no. It does? Can I do anything?” You asked and brushed his hair back again. Peter blushed and smiled softly as he looked into your concerned eyes.

“Just keep holding my hand, please. It helps with the pain.” He said and faked a cough for added measure. You fell right for it and squeezed his hand.

“It’s gonna be okay, Peter. I won’t leave your side. But do you want me to call your aunt?”

“No, this will just freak her out. I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

“Okay. You could crash at my place tonight if you want. I’ll drive you home tomorrow so we can tell her together. I wrote down everything the doctor said since you were still knocked out.”

“Wow. Thank you.” Peter smiled in appreciation when you showed him the list you had made. You smiled back and put the list down on his bedside table before looking at him. Peter was gazing at you intently because he could tell you had something on your mind.

“I like the color you picked.” Peter said to cut the silence.

“Oh, thanks. I was gonna go with red but I always thought you looked best in blue.” You said without looking at him. Peter blushed at the casual compliment and tilted his head to get you to look at him. You finally did look into his eyes and smiled softly.

“Peter, could I….”

“Yes?” Peter sat up eagerly at your question.

“Sign your cast?” You finished your sentence and he sat back in his bed.

“Oh, sure.” He agreed. You pulled a sharpie out of your bag and wrote your name on the front of Peters cast. Peters face reddened when he saw how big you had written it and he looked at his cast proudly.

“First one.” You smiled and put the sharpie down.

“Probably one of the only ones that will be on here.” Peter chuckled.

“Oh, really? Maybe I should add something else then.” You said and picked the sharpie back up. Peter couldn’t see what you were drawing until you gently turned his cast towards him.

“Do you like it?” You asked timidly. Peter looked at his cast and saw that you had drawn a big heart around your name.

“I love it.” Peter blushed. “Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s an honor to be the first.” You told him. “Oh, and I went by the tower while you were sleeping and grabbed some of your clothes. The doctor said I can take you home once you can stand on your own.”

“I feel great, actually. Thanks for getting the clothes.” Peter thanked you as he got out of his bed. He got changed in the bathroom and met you in the room once he was done. You helped Peter get signed out before taking him back to your apartment.

“Stay here. I’ll make up the bed for you. Can I get you anything?” You asked as you helped Peter sit on your couch.

“Could I have some water please?”

“Of course.” You cupped his chin before going to get him a glass of water. Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t love the way you were babying him because of his injury. You returned with his water and sat beside him on the couch.

“Is there anything else I could get you?”

“I would love to shower. But I can’t get my cast wet.” Peter frowned and looked at his cast.

“You don’t have to.” You said and got back up. You returned shortly with a black garbage bag and held it up to show Peter.

“You’re a genius.” He smiled and got up from the couch.

“I aim to please.” You shrugged and opened the bag up. Peter went to put his arm inside but you stopped him.

“Um, you should probably take off your shirt before I put this on.” You said sheepishly.

“Oh. Right.” Peter replied and tried to take his shirt off, which proved to be difficult with only one hand. After watching him struggle for a bit, you grabbed the hem and helped him take it off. Peters face reddened as you pulled the shirt over his head and he smiled softly. You did your best to keep your eyes on his as you tied the bag around his arm and tried not to look at his body.

“There. That should protect it from any water.” You said as you never broke eye contact.

“Thanks. That was really smart.” Peter said quietly. You stayed staring at each other for a little too long before you snapped out of it.

“The bathroom is the first door on the left. Shampoo and conditioner is all in there. And I have extra towels under the sink.“ You said as you stepped away from him.

“Cool. Thank you.” He smiled once again before walking to the bathroom. Your garbage bag idea worked perfectly and he was able to clean himself without getting any water on the cast. He dried himself off to the best of his ability with one hand and stepped back into his boxers and sweatpants from before. That’s when he realized he had left his shirt out in the living room with you. Peter gulped and fixed his hair in the mirror before going to find you again.

“Hey. All clean?” You asked when he came back into the living room.

“Yep. Could you take this thing off of me?” Peter asked and held up his arm.

“Sure.” You gulped and went over to him. You put on your best performance of pretending he wasn’t shirtless and glistening from the shower as you untied the bag and pulled it off. You made eye contact once again and quickly looked anywhere but his naked torso.

“Do you need help getting your shirt back on?” You asked and hoped the answer was yes.

“It’s okay. I think I can do it. You’ve already done so much.” Peter said as he grabbed the shirt. He managed to get one arm and both shoulders in before realizing he had no way of getting his cast through the shirt.

“I’m stuck.” He whined, making you laugh a little. He had his good arm sticking out over his head and his shirt riding up like a crop top .

“Aw. Look at you.” You chuckled and carefully pulled his broken arm through the shirt.

“Thanks. Again.” Peter laughed as well now that he was dressed.

“You’re very welcome. Now follow me. I’ll show you your bed.” You said and brought Peter to your guest bedroom. You had set it up for him while he was in the shower and put lots of extra pillows so he would be comfortable.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” You turned to him to ask. Peter looked down at your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes.

“Um….” He trailed off and looked over at the bed.

“How about some sleep?”

“Yeah.” He laughs through a yawn. “That sounds really good. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Anytime, Peter. Goodnight.” You squeezed his arm before leaving the room. Peter stayed frozen in place for a minute and tried to touch his arm where you hand had just been, then remembered it was broken.

Peter woke up the next morning to the sweet smell of pancakes. He got out of bed and noticed that the pain in his arm had almost completely gone away. He flexed his fingers, something the doctor mentioned that he probably wouldn’t be able to do for a while, and realized his arm was probably mostly healed. He decided not to mention that discovery to you as he went to go find you.

“Good morning.” You smiled at Peter when he walked into your kitchen.

“It’s a very good morning. Hi.” He smiled back as you handed him a cup of orange juice.

“Sit. Eat. I can cut it for you if you need.” You offered as you put a plate of pancakes in front of Peter.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to.” Peter smiled gratefully and picked up his fork. He went to pick up his knife and remembered his arm was in a cast.

“Hm.” He hummed when he realized his dilemma.

“Here. I got it.” You chuckled and took his fork. You cut Peters food up for him as he watched you with a dreamy smile. He’d never gotten this much attention from you before, or any girl for that matter. He was starting to think this broken arm was a gift from God.

“After breakfast, I can take you home and we can tell May together.” You offered as you got up and grabbed a spray bottle and a comb from the bathroom.

“Thank you. For everything. You’ve done so much already.”

“Please. I’ve barely done anything.” You scoffed and proceeded to wet his hair and then comb out his bed head. Peter turned to look at you with his newly styled hair and you sheepishly put the comb down.

“Okay. I see your point. I just like to take care of people. And I feel bad that you broke your arm. I’m sorry if I’m doing too much.” You explained as you sat back down.

“That’s okay. I’m not used to be taken care of like this. It’s kinda nice.” Peter admitted without looking at you.

“I think it’s nice too. To look after you.” You replied. You looked into each others eyes for a moment and exchanged a smile. Peter finished up his breakfast and got back into your car to go tell May what happened. As you explained to her everything the doctor had told you, all May could focus on was the pretty girl Peter had brought home.

“Wait, sorry, who are you?” May interrupted with an excited smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Y/n Stark. Peter works with my dad. He got hurt on patrol and my apartment was as close by.” You explained.

“It’s so nice to meet you. I’m so glad Peter had such a lovely girl to take care of him. And that he knew where your apartment was. Because he’s been there before?” May asked and clasped her hands under her chin.

“Oh my God.” Peter groaned and hung his head. “It’s not like that, May.”

“Peter’s a friend.” You chuckled. “But I was happy to look after him.”

“Well I appreciate that. And I know he does too. He talks about you all the time, you know. I just didn’t realize it was you. He didn’t tell me how pretty you were.” May added.

“May.” Peter said warningly.

“Oh, thank you.” You laughed awkwardly. “Well, I should probably get going. See you later, Peter.”

“She’s cute.” May said once you were gone.

“She is. But you’ll probably never see her again because you just scared her off.” Peter groaned.

“I don’t know. Don’t think I don’t see that signature on your cast. It’s gonna take a lot more than an overbearing aunt to scare that girl off.” May said coyly.

“Wait, you really think so?” Peter asked.

“I’m just saying. I wouldn’t go to that length for just a friend.” May shrugged. A smile crossed Peters face as it occurred to him this broken arm might have been exactly what he needed to get you to like him back.

Peter walked into campus next day with his cast in a sling. He went to the table he usually sat at between classes and saw Ned already sitting there.

“Hey dude. You never texted me back last- OH MY GOD.” Ned screamed and pointed when he saw the cast.

“Calm down. I’m okay. I just broke my arm.” Peter said with a huge smile.

“Uh, why do you seem so happy about it?”

“Because Y/n Stark took care of me.” Peter whispered excitedly as he sat down.

“Wait, Tony Starks daughter?” Neds eyes widened. “What?! How?”

“I couldn’t swing so I had to go to the nearest apartment I could find, which was hers. She drove me to the hospital and got me clothes while I was in surgery. Then she brought me home and let me sleep at her place.” Peter explained.

“You slept at a girls place?” Ned’s jaw dropped as he grabbed Peters shoulders.

“I know! I wish you could’ve seen it, Ned. She was so worried about me so she did everything for me. I’m talking combing my hair, cutting my food, she even helped me get dressed. Honestly, I think she might like me.”

“That’s hilarious.” Ned laughed. “Good thing you didn’t break your funny bone. Oh my God, wait, did you?”

“No, dude. I’m serious. You should’ve seen her. She was all over me in a way she never has been before. I think this broken arm is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Peter!” Your voice came from behind Peter so he and Ned turned around in confusion.

“Woah. What’s she doing here?” Ned asked and shook Peters arm.

“I have no idea.” Peter replied as a smile broke out on his face.

“Hi. I hope it’s okay I showed up like this.” You said as you sat down beside Peter.

“It’s totally okay. I’m happy to see you.” Peter said and leaned on his good arm to stare at you.

“I know it must be hard to do things for yourself with only one hand, so I thought I would bring you lunch. My dad mentioned that you always eat all the peanut butter when you’re at the tower so I made you a PBJ. Do you like those?” You asked him.

“I love them. Thank you so much. This is so nice of you. You didn’t have to do that.” Peter said and touched your arm.

“It’s okay. I wanted to. I also cut you up some apple slices and packed a juice box.” You said and showed Peter was else was in the lunch bag you had brought.

“No way! I love apple juice.” Peters eyes lit up when he saw the juice. He reached for him but you put your hand on his arm.

“I got it.” You smiled at Peter and put the straw into the juice box. You then held the juice box up so that he could sip it, all while Ned watched in disgust.

“Oh my.” Ned mumbled.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” You asked Peter.

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“I figured since you can’t go on patrol while you’re healing, you could come hang with me at the tower. My dads been working on some new technology and I think you’d be a great help.”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds awesome.” Peter grinned and nodded his head.

“Oh, good. You said yes.” You smiled timidly. “I could pick you up after class?”

“Sure. I get out at 4:25.”

“I’ll be here. See you later, Peter.” You squeezed his arm and got up to leave.

“Did you see that? This arm is a goldmine! She’s never been this interested in me!” Peter exclaimed once you were gone.

“No girl has!” Ned said with equal excitement.

“This is even better than the spider bite. I hope I never heal.” Peter sighed happily and looked at his cast.

“Can I sign it?” Ned asked and fished in his backpack for a pen.

“Of course.” Peter smiled and moved his cast towards Ned. Ned gently held Peters arm in place and tried to write on the top of his cast above his elbow.

“Ugh, it’s too curved. Can you flex so I can get a solid surface?”

“No, I can’t flex my broken arm. And your name is just three letters. Is it really that hard?”

“I wanted to draw the blue amongus guy. Please?” Ned whined.

“Fine.” Peter rolled his eyes and flexed his arm the bets he could to give Ned a flat surface. When he did this, the cast cracked in half and fell in two pieces onto Peters lap. Chalk from the inside filled the air, making Peter and Ned cough as they waved it away.

“Oh shit.” Peter said and flexed his arm back and forth. Sure enough, it was perfectly healed.

“Dude!” Ned coughed. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to do that.”

“My arm is healed. Damn it!” Peter groaned and slammed his now healed arm on the table.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ned asked as he drew an amongus character on one of the halves of Peters cast.

“No. My broken arm was the one thing making Y/n pay attention to me. Without it, she’ll want nothing to do with me.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face.

“Maybe you could break your other arm?” Ned suggested. “Or both arms?

“I’m not gonna break my arm on purpose. That’s too crazy. I just need a new cast.” Peter said as he began to brainstorm.

“Maybe not. Maybe you just need some tape.” Ned said as he held the two halves of the cast together. Peter looked at the two halves and smiled as he formed a plan.

Peter texted you that he’d meet you at the tower instead so that he could rush home to work on his plan. When you opened the tower door to greet him, the first thing you noticed was that his cast had been wrapped in duck tape down the middle that was then colored with a blue sharpie. You could see spots of wet Elmer’s glue around the obvious crack, despite the sling Peter had placed the arm in.

“Hi!” He greeted you.

“Hey, you. What happened to your cast?” You laughed and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing. I just scuffed it a little.” Peter lied and pulled it deeper into the sling.

“Uh huh. Come in.” You chuckled skeptically and led him to the lab. You held the door open for Peter and noticed him touching it with his broken hand as he passed through. You were already skeptical and decided to play with him a little.

“This is so cool. Your dad never lets me in here.” Peter said as he looked around the lab in awe.

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Come sit.” You smiled innocently and patted a chair at the lab table that wasn’t pulled out. Peter pulled it out with his broken hand and sat beside you. You eyed him curiously and he gave you an awkward smile. You decided not to expose him just yet and let him help you with a few things around the lab for an hour. He was beyond excited just to be there and you didn’t want to ruin it just yet.

“Can you figure out this formula for me?” You asked and handed Peter a marker.

“Sure.” He smiled and went to the whiteboard. He started writing with his broken hand and you watched with an amused smile.

“You should probably use your other hand.” You said, making Peter freeze.

“Oh. Right.” Peter forced a laugh. “I keep forgetting it’s broken. Which it definitely is. You saw it.”

“I did see it. Does it still hurt?” You asked and touched the sling.

“Oh yeah.” He lied. “Real bad.”

“Aw. Poor baby.” You pouted and brushed some hair off his face. Peter gulped and blushed under your touch as he made a fist with his broken hand. You noticed him moving his supposedly broken hand and decided to tease him a little.

“You know, it’s really a shame your arm is broken.” You said and took a step towards him.

“Why?”

“Because we have the place to ourselves. We could’ve had a little fun together. But obviously we can’t, with your broken arm and all.” You replied and watched his face carefully for a reaction.

“A little fun?” Peter gulped again as you got even closer.

“You know….” You smiled coyly and walked your fingers up his arm.

“No.” Peter swallowed. “I don’t know.”

“Come on. You’re telling me you haven’t dreamed of fooling around in one of the giant rooms in this place?” You asked and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“And you’re saying that’s what we would be doing? If my arm was healed?” Peter asked with wide eyes.

“Uh huh. Too bad it’s not.” You sighed dramatically and took a step back. Peter looked down at his fake broken arm and contemplated telling the truth.

“Yeah. That’s too bad.” He mumbled.

“Hey Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Catch.” You said and tossed a paper weight at him. Peter caught it with ease in his broken hand, making his cast break in half again. You raised your eyebrows as Peter squeezed his eyes shut.

“Shit.” He whispered.

“Don’t feel bad.” You chuckled. “I knew you were faking it the second you walked in.”

“You did?” Peter sighed and pulled the cast and sling off.

“Come on, Peter. Duct tape?”

“I know. I’m not a craft boy.” Peter admitted with defeat.

“I can tell. So what’s with the fake cast?” You wondered as you folded your arms.

“The first one was real. I swear. But it healed quicker then I thought it would and I didn’t need it anymore.”

“Then why would you tape the cast around your healed arm?”

“Because I didn’t want you to know it was healed.” Peter mumbled, just barely audible but you still heard it.

“What?” You laughed. “Why not?”

Peter sighed again before looking into your eyes. You looked at him expectingly and he knew there was no way out of this.

“Because then you won’t hang out with me anymore.” He said with a sad smile.

“What?” Your smiled faded as your arms dropped.

“Before I broke my arm, I had trouble getting you to even look my way. But that night in your apartment, I never lost your attention. Not even once. And then you showed up at my school and met my friend and I guess I liked that so much that I wasn’t ready to let go of it yet. So I taped my cast back together to keep your attention a little longer. I’m sorry.”

“Peter, I didn’t do all those things because you have a broken arm. I did them because I like you.” You said as walked back towards him.

“You do?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “Even though I have two normal arms?”

“It’s something I’m willing to look past.” You smiled teasingly. Peter smiled back before winced and gripping his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

“I kinda triggered the injury when I broke the cast.” He grimaced and moved his shoulder in a circle.

“Aw. Do you want me to kiss it better?” You laughed sarcastically.

“Yeah. Can you?” Peter replied with equal sarcasm and held up his arm. You moved his arm down away from his face and leaned in to kiss him. Once Peter processed what was happening, he was able to kiss you back. He wrapped his now healed arm around your waist to pull you in, feeling the dull ache he got from moving it but deciding it was worth it.

“Any better?” You asked once you pulled away.

“Much.” Peter smiled and went to kiss you again.

Tag List 🏷️

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

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mooshywrites · 2 months

Note

May I request a short fic of Halsin and Tav discussing their kinks with Halsin admitting to having a breeding kink? Thanks, love :*!

Rutting Season

Fem!Reader x Halsin

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N~ ofc bb I’d love to <3

Word Count ~ 3.5K

Warnings ~ NSFW, MDNI, smut, breeding kink, slight size difference, established relationship, vaginal sex, fingering, creampie, outdoor sex

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“Do not tease me with such things my heart.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“I think you already know everything about me, my heart,” said with an exasperated smile.

You snorted and rolled your eyes, maneuvering to sit up on your elbows.

The sun washed across your back like a warm blanket, the grass rustling next to your picnic blanket in a comforting sort of song. It was a beautiful day today, one you were happy to spend with your Druid.

Even if he was refusing to be an interesting conversationalist.

“There has to be something about you that you haven’t told me,” you complained, giving Halsin a pleading stare.

“I’m quite sure there isn’t. I’ve told you everything. Even down to my favorite jam,” he chided.

You twisted to lay on your back, shutting your eyes against the glare of the day. Birds chirped in the distance, momentarily distracting you from your annoyance. A gentle breeze cooled you as you thought, wracking your brain for anything else you hadn’t asked Halsin.

An idea finally hit you, one eye popping open with a mischievous glint.

“Well, have you ever been in love, Halsin?” You inquired with a cheeky smile.

Halsin furrowed his eyebrows as if you had just asked the strangest thing one could utter.

“Aren’t I in love with you, little duck?” He prodded, ignoring your flurry of giggles.

“I suppose you’re right. Let’s see,” you shot back, settling in under his affectionate gaze.

He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on your forehead, chuckling along at your playful mood.

“I don’t think you could think of something you haven’t already asked me if you tried,” Halsin challenged, his voice soft against you.

With a halfhearted glare, you could feel the competitiveness start to rise in your bones. Was it a series conversation? No, absolutely not. The two of you had long since run out of questions for each other in this little game that you played. But for him to have the gall, the absolute nerve to challenge you?

Absolutely not.

There had to be something you didn’t know about the man.

“I know,” you started slowly, your smile already growing wide across your face. “What’s something unusual you like to do in bed?”

“Sometimes, if I’m especially tired, I’ll bring dinner to bed,” Halsin responded nonchalantly. “That wasn’t that impressive of a question, my heart.”

You stared up at him, your eyes wide. Surely, there was no way in hell he mistook your meaning.

Halsin just stared back, confusion etching across his features as he tried to understand what was wrong.

Finally, his cheeks flushed brilliantly, realization finally dawning on him.

“Oh you meant, as in,” he stuttered. “As lovers.”

You burst into a fit of laughter at Halsin's flustered realization, his embarrassment only serving to fuel your amusement. His cheeks remained flushed as he struggled to find the right words to explain himself, his typically composed demeanor crumbling under your relentless teasing.

After a moment of reveling in his discomfort, you finally composed yourself enough to speak.

“Oh Halsin, you truly are a light unlike any other,” you managed to say between giggles. "But I must admit, bringing dinner to bed is rather endearing in its own way."

Halsin let out a sheepish chuckle, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to regain some semblance of composure. “I suppose it's not quite what you were asking for,” he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes now that he had recovered from his initial embarrassment.

Your laughter gradually subsided, leaving behind a warm fondness as you gazed up at him. The sunlight danced across his features, highlighting the faded scars on his face.

“Is that still a question you want an answer to?” Halsin murmured, his gaze flitting away.

You shrugged, trying not to let the blush that was creeping into your face betray the nervousness you suddenly felt.

“I suppose so.”

Halsin sighed as if he was coming to terms with what he was about to say.

“I have a thing about breeding,” He said simply.

“A what?“ you snorted. “Is that not just regular ol’ sex?”

Halsin went quiet for a moment causing you to peek up at him, worried you might have offended him by laughing. He held your gaze, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“It’s a little more than that,” he murmured. “It’s the idea of filling you with my seed. Watching you swell with my children.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot, unable to speak with how blunt Halsin was being. Or the way his jaw ever so slightly strained when he admitted his leanings.

A mischievous glimmer danced in Halsin’s eyes as he watched the array of emotions crossing your face. The vulnerability in his confession was a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. You felt a rush of heat spreading through you, a mix of embarrassment and something else you couldn’t quite place. His words hung heavy in the air between you, stirring something deep within your chest.

A feeling that was quickly settling just below your stomach.

The silence stretched on, charged with words you didn’t quite know how to say. Finally, you found your voice, the words tumbling out almost without conscious thought.

“I’ve never… I’ve never done anything like that before,” you confessed.

Halsin’s smile softened, a tenderness in his gaze that made your heart skip a beat. “It’s alright,” he murmured, reaching out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “We don’t have to rush into anything you’re not comfortable with. I was just answering your question after all.”

You leaned into his hands, letting your eyes flutter shut. You weren’t quite sure you could handle the expression on his face with what you were about to say next.

“What if,” you whispered, your voice airy with the breathlessness the how conversation had rendered you . “What if it was something I wanted to try?”

You heard Halsin’s breath hitch slightly at your words and you couldn’t help but crack open an eye.

His own eyes were wide with surprise, searching your own for any sign of your usual joking manner. The air around you crackled with newfound anticipation.

His hand trembled slightly as he cupped your cheek, his touch gentle as if he were trying to hold something back.

“Do not tease me with such things, my heart,” Halsin whispered lowly.

“Who said I was teasing?” You retorted, your voice barely audible.

Halsin’s expression shifted, a blend of desire and uncertainty flickering across his features. His thumb traced along your jawline, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re sure?”

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his intense stare. The air between you seemed to be laden with electricity, tension waiting to be snapped.

Without another word, Halsin closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender yet urgent kiss. It was if a dam had been unleashed, a flood of desire pouring into your touch. Your hands instinctively found their way to his back, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer.

Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself into the kiss, your mind becoming less coherent the more you thought of his words.

’Filling you with my seed.’

You pulled back for a moment, breathless from the kiss.

“Is that something you want? To have children with me? Right now?” you questioned.

It was something the two of you had talked about before, but not at length. More of the casual discussions of the future and not set in stone plans.

A growl reverberated deep in Halsin’s chest, rumbling against you. “I would want nothing more, my heart.”

The intensity of his promise hung in the air, mingling with the lingering taste of his kiss on your lips. Your heart raced with a heady mix of lust and hesitance as you searched his eyes for any hint of doubt. But all you found was unwavering conviction, like it was something he had long since decided.

It didn’t take more than a split second for your conviction to match his own, your lips meeting his for another searing kiss.

Passion ignited between the two of you, the sound of the field drowning out in favor of the sound of Halsin’s breathing becoming heavier.

You couldn’t help the way your hips shifted against him, already seeking relief from the desire beginning to pool in your core. Halsin groaned in response, the sound cutting straight through your chest.

It suddenly felt like there was far too many layers between the two of you, your fingertips clawing at the hem of his shirt. You wanted nothing more than to feel his heated skin against your own, feel his calloused touch against you.

“Please,” you whimpered, your voice already tinged with a neediness that otherwise would have had you embarrassed.

But his confession, the thought of following through with his desires…

You needed him now.

Halsin’s eyes flared with lust at your shameless ask, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Demanding, aren’t we, little duck?” He whispered, his voice a shade darker than it was moments ago.

You could only manage a weak glare back, tugging expectantly on the edge of his clothes once more.

Halsin smiled back as he reached for the ties on his shirt, his movements slow and teasing. He undid each knot with calculated precision, revealing hints of his tanned chest beneath the fabric.

Your gaze locked with his as he slowly peeled the shirt off his chest, exposing the tawny brown hair that dusted his skin. You couldn’t help but trace the lines of his muscles with your eyes, taking in the hard lines of his abdomen.

“You really want this, my heart?” Halsin murmured, his voice a low, heated rumble.

You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of him bare before you. The desire to touch him washed over you, all consuming.

Your fingertips found their way to his skin, tracing featherlight over scars and muscles. Halsin stayed perfectly still, watching you as you admired him. You put more pressure into your touch, your nails scraping ever so lightly against him.

His gaze darkened before fluttering shut, his breaths growing heavier as your hand continued to explore. He let out a low groan, his own hands finding yours and guiding them down to the waistband of his breeches.

You smirked, taking your time ignoring the growing bulge before you. Halsin may have been the one in charge through and through, but you quite enjoyed torturing him every once in a while. Idly, you traced the outline of the Druid’s length, refusing to acknowledge his annoyed growl.

Slowly, you cupped your hand around him, looking up to give him an innocent smile. As you gave a gentle squeeze, you couldn’t help but flit your eyes back to the hard member.

Was he bigger than normal?

You looked back up at Halsin, your eyes locked onto his as you began to stroke him gently, keeping your movements slow.

“You’re very hard,” you teased, watching the way his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.

“Careful.” He whispered, his voice a low growl. You couldn’t help but feel yourself growing more aroused at the tension in his tone. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Am I?” You asked, sliding your hand up and down his length, reveling in his growing impatience.

He was right, you were playing with fire. But it was a delicious, exhilarating fire that you couldn’t seem to resist. The need to watch him become undone. The need to see how much his admission really affected your time together.

With a final squeeze, you sat back. Your gaze met Halsin’s eyes with a smirk, seeing nothing but flaming desire mirrored back at you.

Gods above, he really seemed to want this.

You slowly pushed the sleeves of your dress down, letting the ties fall free as it fell to your waist. You sat for a moment, bare before him and feeling your body tremble with anticipation.

Halsin’s eyes raked over your body and he swallowed hard, clearly taking in every inch of you.

“Oak Father, preserve me, you’re more and more beautiful every time,” he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

You blushed slightly at his compliment, feeling a wave of shyness wash over you. Your hands came up to cover your chest and the soft curve of your stomach, your gaze dropping.

Halsin reached out, gently pulling your arms to the side. You heard him move forward before your breath caught in your chest, taken aback by the feeling of his lips brushing against your collarbone.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered again, planting another kiss an inch lower.

His touch was slow, tender, and filled with reverence. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, feel the composure he was truing to keep as his lips wandered across your chest. A shiver ran down your spine as his mouth continued its journey.

When he finally made it to the soft swell of your breast, he couldn’t seem to help nipping at the skin slightly. The feeling of his teeth against your skin caused a moan to tumble from your parted lips, unable to hide your growing desperation.

Halsin looked up at you, his eyes dark with hunger and anticipation. You could see the intensity in his gaze, the way that tiniest of sounds was pushing him further to a breaking point.

You arched your back, pressing your chest closer to the Druid’s mouth. He gave you a wry chuckle, finally taking your nipple between his lips in a gentle kiss.

His tongue flicked against the sensitive skin, sending a delicious shockwave through your body. You groaned, your hands falling to his hair, pulling him closer. Halsin hummed in response, his own eyes fluttering shut as he continued.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the feeling of his lips against you making it difficult to sit still.

You couldn’t help but moan, leaning back against the blanket with the Druid quickly following. His arms caged you under him, his torso settling between your legs as he switched his attention to your other breast. He was lost in the task, nipping and kissing like it was the last time he’d ever witness you.

Halsin’s hand glided up your side, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His fingers danced across your waist, finally tugging your dress the rest of the way down your legs.

You kicked them off easily, gasping as the cold air hit you. Halsin’s body quickly returned against you, masking the cold air with his feverishly hot skin. The fabric of his pants scratched against your thigh, earning another moan from you.

Your hips bucked forward, seeking more of that friction. Halsin groaned, moving forward to rest his forehead against your own. His expression was almost pained as his hand pinned your hips, like he was trying desperately to hold onto a thread of sanity.

“Please,” you begged yet again, your voice shaking with desperation.

Halsin inhaled deeply, his jaw tightening again. He finally opened his eyes, looking into yours with a searing look of lust.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Wanted you like this.” he admitted, his voice rough. “But I can’t deny that I fear losing control.”

You smiled softly, warmed by his concerned. “I trust you, Halsin. I know you’d never hurt me.”

He hesitated for a moment longer, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. But then he leaned down, his lips brushing softly against yours. The hand that pinned your lip let go, moving to undo the ties of Halsin’s pants.

In your lust clouded state, you didn’t even recognize the movements. That is, until Halsin’s hips shifted against you, his hardened cock slipping against your folds.

You gasped at the sensation, your breath hitching in your throat. You always had to adjust to him in the beginning, his impressive length being a lot for anyone to handle.

But impossibly, he seemed to be even more to handle today.

Halsin froze for a moment, his eyes searching your face knowingly. But then he leaned down again, his lips claiming yours in a deep affectionate kiss. His hand slid between your legs, his fingers brushing against the sensitive bud of nerves. Your hips bucked upwards, seeking more contact.

“Let me do this for you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice comforting. “Let me help you adjust, my heart.”

You nodded, too shot with lust to say anything coherent. Halsin pressed two fingers against your entrance, running teasing figure eights around where you most wanted him. Your hips shifted helplessly, trying to catch his calloused touch. Finally, they slid against your entrance slowly before sliding inside.

Your muscles clenched around him, earning a groan from the Druid. You whined in response, the little sound from his lips going straight to your cunt.

Halsin slid his fingers in and out of you slowly, gently stretching and preparing you for what was to come. Your hips strained against his hand, the friction leaving you panting and desperate for more.

You arched your back once more, wanting to feel more of him against you. Halsin’s eyes locked onto yours, his expression dark and intense. He moved his fingers faster, teasing the your sensitive nub with his thumb.

“Halsin,” you whimpered, your voice strained with need. “Please… I need you.”

The Druid, still looking deeply into your eyes, shifted his body and pushed his hips forward, the tip of his cock barely pressed your entrance. You whimpered breathlessly, looking up at your lover.

Halsin stayed still, looking into your eyes for some sort of confirmation. You let out an annoyed growl. You should’ve been happy he was being so courteous, but mostly, you just wanted him drilling you into the ground this instant.

`“For gods’ sake, Halsin,” you whined. “Breed me!”

Halsin’s entire demeanor changed as you watched his resolve snap suddenly, a growl ripping through his chest as he plunged forward, impaling you fully in one swift motion.

You cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, the subtle sting of his girth mixing deliciously with your lust. He gave you no time to adjust as he began to move inside you, his gaze firmly stuck on yours.

“Silvanus above, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hips firmly thrusting into in a rhythm that had your thoughts clouded and hips jerking up to meet every thrust.

“Halsin,” you moaned helplessly, your hands gripping his upper arms.

Halsin complied with your wordless begs, his movements becoming more frantic, his fingers digging into your hips as he surged into you. His breath was ragged, low grunts escaping him as he continued to take you.

“I’m going to fill you, my heart,” He promised lowly, “Fill you with my seed.”

The weight of his words sent heat straight to your core, your entire being shifting as Halsin’s promise of breeding you sparked red hot desire. You felt yourself clench tighter around Halsin’s length, your nails digging into his arms.

Your legs wrapped around Halsin’s hips, locking him and trying desperately to pull him deeper into you.

His name was a plaintive wail on your tongue, your voice rising and falling with each thrust, each grunt, each cry echoing through the clearing. Your hips shook wildly against him, each movement in a desperate attempt to cling to him.

Halsin’s movements began to stutter, your own coil of desire tightening beyond belief in your stomach. You knew he was close, his breaths sharp and quick against your neck, and you felt your own body react in tandem.

“Fill me, Halsin.” You moaned in a stutter. “Breed me.”

Your walls tightened around him, beckoning him to fulfill his promise, to breed you and give you what you both so desperately craved. Your nails reached up to dig into the Druid’s back, leaving scratches that would heal with time. You felt his body tense, a feral growl reverberating in him.

Then, with a final shuddering thrust, Halsin filled you completely. His seed spilled deep within, coating your insides with his warm essence. Your walls tightened around him, milking ever last drop. He collapsed against you, his breath ragged and his heart pounding against yours.

You lay there for a moment, your bodies locked together, both utterly sated and completely spent. Halsin’s fingers brushed the hair from your forehead, his gaze softening as he looked into your eyes.

“How I love you, my heart,” Halsin whispered, his voice tender with emotion.

You sighed closing your eyes as you basked in the afterglow, feeling him still inside of you. “I love you too.”

As his breathing began to slow, you both lay there, entwined in each other’s arms. The sun filtered through pillowy clouds, warming your bare skin in a warm kiss.

Halsin’s voice cut through the moment of tranquility, his voice lighter and teasing.

“I suppose it’s my turn to ask a question, then, little duck?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

#halsin #bg3 halsin #baldurs gate 3 halsin #halsin smut #halsin x reader #halsin x reader smut #halsin x tav #halsin x tav smut #halsin x you #halsin x you smut #halsin fanfiction #halsin fic #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 smut #baldurs gate 3 smut

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yandere-daydreams · 2 months

Text

file #2: the amputation fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!gojo satoru x reader (jjk).

length: 2.9k.

warnings: non/con, amputation, unhealthy relationships, abusive relationships, obsessive behavior, amputation (no injury to reader in fic), handjobs, masturbation, and unbalanced power dynamics.

“Babydoll? You wanna let me in?”

A beat of silence, a light knock. You stayed where you were, crumpled on the bathroom floor, and Satoru sighed.

“C’mon, angel. I can’t help from all the way out here.”

You clenched your bloody arm closer, pulling your knees up to your chest. An orange-tinted, half-emptied pill container sat lidless and on its side next to you. Shoko’s pills took care of the worst of the pain, but a steady, persistent throbbing had lodged itself in the knob that used to be your wrist and refused to let-up. It probably wouldn’t for the next hour, if not the next day.

“I can’t take you to see Shoko if you keep me locked out.”

At that, you relented, uncurling with from your self-made bundle. It took a second to shift yourself onto your knees, another to find the doorknob with your remaining hand, but Satoru himself in as soon as the lock clicked out of place. Thankfully, mercifully, he gave you time to skitter back to your corner before crossing the threshold, but that didn’t stop you from withering as his eyes raked over you, as he evaluated the damage. Eventually, he collapsed against the adjacent wall and sunk to the floor, letting out a raspy groan before tossing you a familiar, crooked smile. You didn’t return it. “That mad at me, huh?” You didn’t respond, gaze dropping to your decimated hand – or, rather, the mangled stump that used to be your hand. His smile wavered, but didn’t fall away. “Yeah, no, I probably deserve that. Does it hurt?”

You didn’t indulge him with an answer. “Did you call Shoko?”

“On a mission,” he said with a slight shrug, a strong note of ‘what can you do?’ in his tone. Like this was some minor inconvenience, annoying but ultimately trivial. Like like you weren’t missing an essential part of yourself. “She said she’d swing by as soon as she’s done, but I’d give it another hour. I think she’ll kill me if I keep asking her to make house calls.”

Another beat of silence, another deafening failure to respond on your part. Finally, he turned to face you properly, leaning forward. “…can I?”

He always did this – paused like that, smiled like that, tried to make himself seem so gentle, so loving, so considerate. It might’ve been well-meaning, an attempt to let you know he was sorry without having to swallow enough of his pride to actually apologize, but all it ever seemed to make you feel was cold and alone, stuck in a shell of an apartment with a shell of a man. It was always the same. It was always going to be the fucking same.

And, like always, you relented, looking away as you nodded stiltedly. Satoru’s smile brightened as he closed the distance between you, his thigh pressing into yours as he settled against your side.

When you’d first gotten into a relationship with Gojo Satoru, you told yourself that if things ever so much as seemed like they might be going south, you were gone. You hadn’t known anything about cursed energy or sorcerer hierarchies or malevolent spirits, but you didn’t have to – even if you hadn’t watched him obliterate monsters the size of apartment buildings with a snap of his fingers, he still would’ve been the strongest person you’d ever met, a man capable of shattering bones with his bare hands and breaking open skulls with all the effort it would’ve taken you to swat a fly out of the air. He was dangerous to be around, even if you doubted Satoru could ever intentionally hurt another living, breathing person. He was rich, and pretty, and strong, and used to getting his way. You loved him, but you needed to be able to leave if it ever seemed like that love was going to put you in danger.

And you did leave. The first time you argued, the first time he lost control of his temper and you were left sobbing on the floor with nothing below your left knee, you’d gotten as far as you could as quickly as you could. It’d taken him a full week to track you down, another to convince you that one of his bizarre friends could heal you, and roughly half a minute of Satoru sobbing and clinging to your (newly restored) leg for you to forgive him, to write it off as an accident – just the kind of risk you took when you got into a relationship with someone who could deadlift armored tanks. The second, you’d stayed at a friend’s place for a few days before coming back on your own, as desperate for his miracle-cure as you were for the pet comforts that came with Satoru’s bottomless fortune. The fourth, you’d barricaded yourself in his bedroom for sixteen hours and only come out for Shoko, who’d muttered about your ‘wreck of a boyfriend’ as she rebuilt the three missing fingers on your right hand.

Now, on the ninth, you’d barely managed to keep him locked out of a bathroom for all of five minutes. It was embarrassing, more than anything. You wanted to be able to hate him, you wanted to be scared of him, but it was hard to be scared of someone you loved. Someone you loved as much as Satoru, especially.

You shook your head, dragging yourself out of your own spiraling thoughts. Your attention, instead, moved to Satoru – still slumped against the tiled wall, his head lulled back and his attention focused pointedly on the ceiling. You were dressed to go out, uncomfortable jeans and all, but Satoru looked like he just rolled out of bed – a plain white shirt pulled tight over his broad chest, a pair of pitch-black sweatpants falling low on his waist, the lights dim enough to mean his piercing blue eyes didn’t have to be locked behind tinted glass or thick fabric. That was what you’d been arguing about, even if it was hard to remember why it’d seemed like such a big deal. He had the day off, no class and no cursed spirits to slaughter, and wanted to waste his morning in bed, with you wrapped in his arms. You’d tried to tell him, as slowly and as tenderly as you could, that you couldn’t, that you had an important early-morning lecture, that you’d be back by the time he actually wanted to get up, but he’d whined and pouted and you’d lost your patience when he reminded you that you could ‘always drop out’. You tried to leave, and he tried to catch your hand, to make you stay for that much longer, and—

“Can I see it?” You were almost thankful to hear his voice, if only for the distraction. “Your hand, I mean. If you’re comfortable with showing me.”

You weren’t, but you were desperate not to sink back into your own head, either. Slowly, cautiously, you shuffled that much closer to him, folding your legs underneath you as you gingerly held out the arm you’d spent the better part of the last few minutes cradling. It made you sick to look at a part of your own body so violently distorted, so violently wrong, so you didn’t – keeping your focus trained on your knees as Satoru took up your shortened limb. His own healing abilities had taken care of the worst of the gore, but even with the open, gaping wound at the end of your arm closed, there was still a ring of bruising around your wrist, streaks of dried blood running down the length of your forearm, a raw quality to the skin where his hap-hazard repairs hadn’t quite taken. His touch was feather-light, skirting around the worst of the remaining damage and lingering near your elbow, then your bicep. Acknowledgement came in the form of a low whistle, an airy sigh. You tried not to let his casualness get to you. Sorcerers must’ve seen injuries like this all the time. This was the end of the world for you, but Satoru would be just fine. “I’m not going to let you lift a finger after this. You know that, right? I’ve gotta make sure my pretty baby’s still nice n’ spoiled, even when I go and fuck everything up.”

It wasn’t an apology, but it was as close as he’d ever get. You grit your teeth and nodded, taking a second to find your voice. Even with the delay, it came out as a croak; almost too low and too ragged to be coherent. “This can’t keep happening, ‘toru. I love you, but this can’t keep happening.”

“I know, baby, I know.” One of his hands remained wrapped around your arm while the other, unoccupied, fell between his open legs. “I don’t mean to. If I had it my way, nobody would be able to touch you, but…” A pause, a laugh. “I just get so stressed out when we start fighting, like that. All I can think about is someone hurting you when I’m not there to keep you safe, and I forget how delicate I’ve gotta be with you. It feels like I’m not in control of myself.”

Despite your better judgement, you felt a deep, churning well of guilt open up inside of you. It was your turn to sigh, now, to slump, to let your eyes fall shut. “I love you,” you repeated, like it was the only thing you knew how to say. “It’s just— It scares me, when you get like that. I know you’re just trying to be protective, but it hurts.”

You heard his breathing pick-up, his grip tighten ever so slightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel. “I know, sweetheart. I’m just trying to take care of you.”

“You do take care of me, but—” You were cut off by a breathy swear, a throat groan. Momentarily, your fear and self-loathing gave way to irritation, a frown tugging at the corner of your lips as you opened your eyes and snapped towards Satoru. He was still focused on your arm – what was left of it, at least – but his gaze was glazed over, far away, and his hand was moving between his—

You put it together too quickly, the force of the realization leaving no time for numbing shock or dampening confusion. He was touching himself, grinding the heel of his palm into the base of his cock. You could see the outline of his shaft against the dark material – already half-hard, if not worse.

If you’d been able to feel anything, you might’ve felt sick.

Reflexively, you tried to pull away from him, but his hold on your arm only tightened, fingertips digging into your bicep as Satoru laughed, the sound strained and airy. “Sorry, sorry, my bad. I know you like a head’s up, but…” Now, he looked at you, but it was too late, too much, too sudden. All you could seem to think to do was gape back at him, unmoving and unthinking. “Guess it’s just what you do to me. I’ll try to make it quick – all you’ve gotta do is sit there and look pretty.”

It was a familiar line, a familiar excuse. You’d heard it a thousand times – mumbled into your neck as draped himself over you in the early hours of the morning, spouted off as he dragged you back to his car halfway through dinner at a restaurant you’d been looking forward to visiting for months – but it didn’t seem to make sense, this time, didn’t fit with the image of your missing hand hovering a few inches above your loving boyfriend’s erection. The dissonance only seemed to get worse, more dizzying as he shrugged the waistband of his sweats past his hips and down to his thighs, freeing his stiff cock. You’d been too generous, before; he was already hard, his tip flushed a dark pink and leaking thick beads of arousal. Again, you tried to get away, and again, he only pulled you closer, until your side was flush against his. There was a deep grunt, a hazy grin as he wrapped a fist around the shaft of his cock, his grip almost painfully tight. His eyes never left the dull stump on the end of your left arm, his raspy breathing soon turning to a deep, heady panting as you watched him pump his fist over his cock, his pace slow and methodical – a far cry from the spontaneous, erratic Satoru you were used to. A soft voice in the back of your mind, awful and treacherous, suggested that he might be trying to savor it, and a dozen more screamed loudly enough to drown it out.

“Satoru,” you said, nearly surprising yourself with how distant you sounded, how detached. You didn’t feel detached. If anything, you almost felt too grounded in the feeling of cool tile against your back, the heat of his body where it pressed into yours. “Please, stop.”

“I don’t really have a choice, babe.” He shot you a playful grin, and for a second, you could almost imagine hating him. “It’d go a lot faster if you helped me out, though.”

You didn’t answer, but he didn’t need you to. His hand was already groping for yours, already forcing your reluctant participation. The position was awkward, your body half-bent over his, but when you shifted, Satoru’s thumb dug into the bone of your wrist and instantly, you went still. This was bad. Not having control of your only remaining hand was bad. But having your only remaining hand taken away from you would be worse.

Satoru didn’t seem to see it that way. Sounds of aching pleasure bubbled past his lips shamelessly, turning the abruptly claustrophobic bathroom into an echo chamber of pitchy whines and raspy groans and the slick, wet clicks of his cock fucking into your balled fist. It was terrible – being able to feel how his cock pulsed against your palm, being forced to acknowledge the little, stilted movements of his hips whenever he decided your (admittedly lackluster) pace left something to be desired. In less than a minute, his head had lulled onto your shoulder, his voice muffled by the proximity as he struggled to speak in spite of his own unabashed moaning. “Love you so much,” he half-mumbled, half-panted. You could feel his breath against your shoulder, his drool starting to pool just above your collarbone. “W-wanna take care of you when you can’t take care of yourself, make sure nobody else ever gets to put their hands on you. I’d be good – cook for you, n’ shower with you, ‘n dress you up all nice n’ pretty,” He paused, nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “You… You wouldn’t hate me that much if we left it that way, right?”

You felt something drop into the pit of your stomach. “Satoru, you’re—”

“Please, baby.” It was the same tone he used when he was begging you to make a late-night snack run with him, or when he wanted to finish inside of you without protection. “Just—Just tell me that you’d let me take care of you. Just say that you’d still love me.”

It felt like your throat was swollen shut, your chest stuffed to bursting with shattered glass and razor blades and spiny needles only just beginning to poke through your skin. You didn’t want to say anything, you didn’t think you could say anything, and yet, when your mouth fell open, you found a voice that was not your own seeping out by means beyond your control. “It’s alright,” you muttered, distantly, as his cock throbbed in your hand. “I’d still love you, ‘toru.”

Although, you were starting to wish you wouldn’t.

You heard him groan, felt something thick and searing spill over the back of your hand. Satoru’s hand, cupped snuggly over yours, kept you moving until every last drop had been milked out of him, until the final ember of his climax had burnt itself out. He went limp against you, his vice-grip finally falling away, but rather than run, you only straightened, wiping your hand on your jeans before tucking it into your lap. How you looked didn’t matter, anymore. There couldn’t have been more than a few minutes left in your lecture, if you hadn’t already missed it entirely.

Silence interrupted only by panting breaths and the beating, drowning drum playing in your ears reigned over the confined space, keeping you in a state of bleary stasis until the sound of a sharp knock, shortly followed by a distant door opening broke through the fog. “That’s Shoko,” Satoru murmured, almost disappointed. He started to separate himself from you, only to relapse – burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting out a deep, contented sigh. “You know that I love you, right?”

“I know.”

“And you know that all I wanna do is keep you happy?”

“I know, ‘toru.”

“Good.” He pulled back, grinning. “’cause all I ever wanna do is take care of my angel. Don’t let anything ‘side from that get into your pretty little head.”

You only nodded as he pushed himself to his feet, as he slipped out of the bathroom to meet Shoko, to explain what vital part of yourself he’d torn away this time. You wanted to get up, to wash the cum off of your hand, to pump feeling back into your numb legs, but your remaining limbs were uncooperative, heavy and awkward and useless. It was all you could do to pull your knees up to your chest, wrap your arms around your legs, and hold yourself as you started to cry.

At least, next time Satoru decided to tear you apart, you might not find it so hard to hate him for it.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk #yandere gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #yandere gojo #yandere satoru #gojo satoru x reader

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kissitbttr · 2 months

Text

“my baby” you murmur softly against his skin. hands cradling both side of his face gently. “my sweet, sweet baby”

toji hates to admit how that makes his heart tremble with pure love, and how the simple act is the sole reason for the crimson color risen within his cheeks,

“that, i am” he mutters with a small smile playing on his lips, tugging you close by the waist. “you love me?”

a small gasp escapes your lips, as if you’re offended by that question. “i can’t believe you have to ask! of course i do” another kiss presses against his temple and down to his cheek bone,

he suppresses a cute giggle from it, not wanting to be embarrassed if you ever caught him letting out such sound. it’s quite fascinating how you are the only person who has a way to make him feeling flustered. as if you’re looking at a teenage boy who finally scored a date with his first high school crush,

“just making sure” toji finds comfort against your naked chest, feeling himself melt under your touch while your fingers toy with his raven haired. he frowns and lets out a boyish groan when you pull away,

“noo, noo” he whines, taking your hand before plopping it back down on top of his hair. “don’t stop. keep playing it”

a confused yet amused frown make its way towards your face, a small giggle heaves out of your mouth,

“look at you. my big boy” the nickname just sends shivers down his spine, causing his grip around your waist to tighten. he loves it when you call him that. “touchy today aren’t you?”

he responds with a hum, letting his eyes close for a while as you continue to play with his loose strands of hair. he’s so comfortable like this. being with you is his favorite place. no large house nor king sized bed could ever compare if there’s no you in it.

he’s dreamed of this for far too long. when his wife was taken away from him years ago, he didn’t think that he could find a solace in someone else’s arm anymore. he had given up on love and pour his frustrations out in a very toxic way. drowning himself in alcohol and getting into fights was his way of coping.

then you came a long,

with your pretty smile, pretty aura, pretty hair, pretty voice… pretty everything. knocked the wind out of the man, he couldn’t even form the right words when you stood in front of him.

‘s-shit—wh-what were you saying?’ he laughed nervously when he realized he was staring at you for far too long,

it was an adorable sight. you really did have some sort of power to make men weak in their knees

his heart bloomed when he heard you giggle, ‘i said… did you come here with someone?’

‘oh! n-no! not at all’ he scratched the back of his neck while looking down on his drink, ‘all alone’

‘oh—well then’ you took a seat beside him at the bar, his eyes didn’t move an inch from you. ‘guess we can be alone together’

“my sweet big boy—wouldn’t even dreamed about leaving you”

and that’s enough to make him feel at ease. to let go of the fears he had been holding back. to let go of the past that had corrupted him in more ways than one. to finally say goodbye to his long gone wife and say thank you to you instead for being here. for being so patient. for being so stubborn despite the times he had pushed you away. for not backing down because he knew how much he needed you, he just didn’t have the guts to tell you.

what’s that saying about the song you had shown him? if life is a movie, then you’re the best part?

yeah. that’s the one. but he knows deep down that you’re better than a movie.

because after all these years, toji fushiguro had finally found you peace,

and may lord helps anyone to those who will try to take you away from him,

maybe toji will remove fushiguro from his last name and take yours instead in the near future

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji fushiguro fluff

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lizthewriter · 3 months

Text

get him back! / theodore nott

PAIRING theodore nott x fem!reader

SUMMARY after playboy mattheo riddle dumps you for another girl, your best friend motivates you to get the best revenge - be the girl he would always want, but could never have. you take things to the extreme when theodore nott offers you a deal you can't say no to.

TAGS theodore nott x fem!reader, past!mattheo riddle x fem!reader, modern!au, university!au, ginny is your best friend, fake dating, college parties, gluna / linny, part 2?

QUOTE "yeah i pour my little heart out, / but as i'm hitting send, / i picture all the faces of my dissappointed friends, / because everyone knew all of the shit that he'd do, / he said i was the only girl but that just wasn't the truth," - get him back! by olivia rodrigo

WORD COUNT 2.2K

WRITTEN 12.15.2023

hey, mattheo, how are you? i know it's been a while but i thought i'd -

No. What the hell are you doing? You hold the backspace, watching as the words you had just typed out disappeared. This was ridiculous - you couldn't keep doing this. Ginny would be so dissappointed in you. He had cheated on you, multiple times. He had spent all his time flirting with other girls. He lied to you and then his apologies were just fancy, elaborate gifts soaked in wealth and champagne. How could you still want him, need him, so viscerally?

"What are you doing?" You threw your phone over to your bed and turned around to face Ginny with a sickeningly-sweet grin.

"What? Nothing," you responded innocently. She narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion and made her way over to your bed, picking up your phone and glancing at the screen. You had forgotten to turn it off. Shit.

"Oh come on, seriously? Riddle? That douchebag?" She asked incredulously, sending you one of her famous looks of dissappointment. You got up and snatched your phone from her hand, only to crash on your bed.

"I know, I know," you responded with whine. "And I hate him too . . . but I miss him." You snatched one of your pillows and planted your face into it. The muffled scream was still louder than it ought to be, making Ginny cringe, but still rather satisfying. You let out a huff of breath. "I don't know what to do. I want to punch him in the face but at the same time . . . I want to kiss his stupid fucking face. That piece of shit."

You stared at his picture and let out a sigh. He was so damn complicated.

Ginny snatched your phone from you yet again. "All right, here's what we're going to do. We're going to come up with a plan to make Mattheo Riddle the most jealous man on the planet and in the process, find you someone new and much better. All right?"

You groaned. The thought of it sounded exhausted, but even you had to admit that there was a certain appeal to showing up at some party he was at, dressed to the nines, and bringing home another guy all while he watched. You sat up and stared at Ginny, before hesitantly saying, ". . . Go on."

"I know darling it's upsetting, darling, but . . . you're just not my kind of girl."

The words rang out in your head as you stood before a large mansion belonging to one of the many wealthy students at your campus. Cars were parked around the enormous driveway and the music from inside was booming so loudly that your could feel your bones vibrate with the beat.

Ginny slipped her arm through yours and flashed you one of her adventurous smiles. "Cheer up - you're going to be the prettiest girl they ever did see," Ginny said mockingly, pinching your cheeks. You barked out a laugh, playfully shoving her arm away.

"You sound like some posh grandma."

"But I'm your posh grandma," Ginny responded with a pout as you two began to climb the stone steps to the completely open front door. (I mean, seriously, who leaves the door to their house open? It's like they're asking to be robbed.)

The music steadily became louder upon approach, making it almost impossible to hear your own voice as you entered. The sleek wooden floors were bathed in a variety of disco lights, an odd contrast in comparison to the lovely home that looked like it belonged to some stuffy old Oxford professor.

"Hello ladies," said a jubilant man leaning against the doorframe leading to the foyer. He looked Ginny up and down before pushing himself off the wall and approaching Ginny. "Lovely to see you again." He sent a wink Ginny's way, which she responded to with a playful roll of her eyes. You finally recognized him - he was a sports major, friends with some of her older brothers. Lee, you remembered his name was. He was a flirt - he had tried with you once, when you were with Mattheo. It didn't end so well for him.

"I'm glad to see your nose is doing better, Jordan," you spoked with a friendly smile.

He pinched it and then looked down at his hand. "Good as new, I suppose, but there's still a scar on my heart," he claimed dramatically, walking wistfully away with the expression of a lovelorn, heartbroken lead in a Victorian drama. You and Ginny giggled and delved further into the lion's den. Numerous people greeted you, but especially Ginny (she had always been the popular one). A paticular boy, Harry, had his eye on her for quite some time. You wouldn't be one to say he was unattractive - he was fairly pretty. He was a Criminal Justice major and a pretty nice guy from your understanding. But you knew Ginny wasn't interested.

When Ginny stopped walking, you did too, as your arms were intertwined. You followed her line of sight and smirked at what - well, who - she was staring at. A wistfully odd girl with pale blonde hair down to her waist and an odd sort of dress adorning her body. People gave her odd looks, whispering to their friends. Why is she here? No one likes her.

You nudged Ginny multiple times to grab her attention once more. "Hey, you can go on without me. I'll be fine."

"What? No! I'm not abandoning you, you're my best friend and -"

"Go," you insisted. "I promise, I'll be fine."

She looked rather torn, glancing between the two of you before stomping her feet and letting out a groan. "I hate you," she whined.

"I hate you too," you responded with a grin. You turned her around, your hands on her shoulders, and pushed in her in the general direction of one eccentric Luna Lovegood. "Now go! Don't worry about me, we've been planning this for days!"

"Good luck!" She shouted at you before she disappeared into the sea of people. A few moments later, after much difficultly trying to see her, you saw her chatting up the girl. All right, my turn, you thought.

You scoured the room - you wouldn't say you were the most introverted person in the world, but you definitely weren't the most outgoing either. You needed to find someone who would really pull at Mattheo's nerves, make those prominent veins pop out of his head. You wanted him to feel the anger and the pain that you felt. You wanted to get him back!

There was no one on the bottom floor that caught your eye, so you climbed the stairs to where the more . . . elegant students were. (Rich, more like.)

They weren't anymore sophisticated than the people downstairs, but there was still that air of refinement that made you feel slightly out of place. You wandered around the many rooms for a bit before you found a kitchen (they had one upstairs and downstairs?) Grabbing a drink, you wandered around some more, making friendly conversations with some of your peers. As you were talking with Neville, a very kind boy from one of your general education courses, someone in paticular caught your eye and everything clicked.

Theodore Nott. He was the son to a rather rich Italian man, the CEO of one of the most well-known designer shoe brands in Europe. His mother died rather unfortunately of illness at a young age. He's been very prominent, especially in recent years. He's been a model for his father's company, he was in the top 5% of your class, and he's - well - he's known as the most handsome boy in your year.

You definitely weren't going to deny that - he was drop-dead gorgeous. His eyes were so . . . alluring. Dark and sexy, a pool of emotions shrouded by mystery. Okay, so maybe you were going far too overboard with your description of him, but for the love of God, was he attractive.

Somehow, he could feel your gaze upon him. He had been sitting on a couch, telling a story to a tight-knit group of friends, Mattheo included you noticed, that you had taken your eyes off of him. You felt embarrassed, pretended to look around the room, and then turned your attention back towards Neville with an encouraging smile that pretended that you had been listening to him rant all along.

"Excuse me," you heard Nott say, standing up from the couch. The champagne flute in his hand was rather empty so you deduced that he was probably going to go fill it. An educated guess, but an incorrect one. He did something you never expected. He approached you.

"Longbottom, I hear Greengrass has a question about a Geo-sci class you two share. She seemed rather distressed by it. I'm sure she'd appreciate your help," Theo told Neville - you glanced at Daphne Greengrass. She looked nowhere near distressed, but Neville perked up in excitement.

"R-really?" He asked nervously, wringing his hands. He gave you a sheepish smile. "Talk to you later, I've got to go help Daphne."

"Yeah, see you later Nev," you replied. Nott looked down at you for a moment before raising his glass.

"It seems we're both in need of a refill. Care to join me?" His expression was nothing more than emotionless, except perhaps the tiniest smirk that remained upon those rose-dusted lips. You shrugged nonchalantly, only just noticing the vacancy in your glass.

"Sure, why not?"

You followed a quite Theodore Nott to the kitchen again, where he poured himself champagne from a very specialized fridge unit filled with distinguished bottles of liquor - merlot and pinot noir and all those fancy alcohols you would have assumed people like him drank. He silently offered you some by tipping the bottle towards you. You offered him your glass, which he poured a fair amount in, not too much, not too little. Just right.

"I'm suprised to see you here."

You arched a brow in response as he took a light sip from the flute resting in a delicate balance between his two fingers. Precariously, a smile dained your face. "And why is that?"

"Your Riddle's ex-girl, aren't you?"

He asked in such a way that seemed as though he didn't care much at all.

The smile from your face disappeared, replaced by something much more bitter. You shrugged, but the action was much more passive-agressive than you had intended it to be. "So what? Does that mean something to you?"

He placed the flute down, the glass clinking against the marble countertop. "Riddle and I have a . . . complicated relationship."

"You mean, your dear old daddies are both relevant, rival shoe designers?" You said it so innocently. Nott smirked at you.

"Yeah, something like that. Listen," he leaned in close to you, leaning his arms against the counter in an attempt to lower himself to your level. He was rather lanky and tall, which you supposed was good for a model, but hard for when you want to actually talk to him. "You and I both want something from him."

"And what's that, Nott?" You asked with mock curiosity, placing your chin in the palm of your hands with a tilt of your head.

"Well, let's just say you didn't come here tonight, dressed like that, in the hopes that he would fuck you," he responded, quite bluntly. Well, you supposed that sort of honesty was an inherited trait. "Everyone knows what went down between you two - he aired out your dirty laundry for all to see. No, you came back here to get revenge."

"Astute," you said with a tone of disdain. Taking a sip of your champagne, you found that it actually had a much more delightful taste than any other alcohol you had. You smacked down the glass on the countertop. "Really, Nott, thanks for that." You began to leave but Theo grabbed you by the arm.

"Wait! Just . . . listen," he said, panting slightly. His brows were scrunchdd together in frustration - he seemed genuinely distressed. The only reason you stayed was because you realized something rather odd.

You turned towards him with furrowed brows. "Is Theodore Nott . . . desperate for something?" You asked with a disbelieving scoff. At the sight of his jaw clenching, his eyes avoiding yours, you let out a shocked laugh.

"Shut it," he muttered, sending you a dark glare.

"Now that's certainly out of character," you said, slugging off his iron grip. "All right, you've got my attention. What is it?"

"My father's been trying to score one over Riddle for years. Rumor is Mattheo's father wants him to marry a good woman, someone that won't tarnish his son's so-called good reputation. And well, you . . . slipped through his fingers like sand. Stealing him from you would make my father more . . . proud."

You crinkled up your nose. "You're not proposing to me, are you? Cause the answer is no."

"No, no. I'm just asking you to date me, at least for a bit."

The sound of it seemed ridiculous, but then you thought - you were both getting something out of it. It was nothing more than a partnership, and a good one at that. Either way, you'd be pulling one over Mattheo and that would be good enough for you.

"How much is 'for a bit'?"

"Everyone." Theo had walked back into the room, you snuggled comfortably into his arms. He had tapped a fork against his glass, gathering the attention of his friends. Mattheo's jaw dropped, the hand swung around some girl you had seen around slithering it's way back to his side. "I want to introduce you to my girlfriend."

That's right, you smug snake. I win.

part two coming soon . . . <3

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #my writing #fanfiction #— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#my fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #harry potter #slytherin boys

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skzstannie · 3 months

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Hii it’s okay if you can’t but I was wondering if you could do a skz x 9th member reader where she was in a car crash as well as the others? But she was badly injured as well and had to be looked after by chan because she wasn’t in good condition? Totally okay if you can’t thanks❤️

"You're awake!"

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member!reader (Chan-centric)

genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~3,200 cw: some cussing, car accident, reader and skz get hurt

summary: ^^ see request

A/N: Hello! Not super happy with how this came out, but I hope you still like it anon! Started a new semester, so updates will be less frequent, but I'll still be lurking in everyone's feed through likes and reblogs 👀

Masterlist | Happy Scrolling!

"I'm just saying, if penguin's could fly, I think they'd take over the world."

"Felix, literally what are you talking about?" you give him a strange look from where you're seated diagonal from him in the car.

"If penguins ever learned to fly, I think they'd try to overthrow the government in a vengeful fury."

You all sit in silence for a moment, trying to preserve the last of your braincells from deteriorating.

"Okay..." Seungmin responds, quirking his eyebrow at him.

"I am so excited for tonight!" you break the silence that settles, practically vibrating in your seat from the excitement.

"We know, you haven't stopped talking about it," Minho boredly comments, his phone lighting up his face from the shadowy back seat.

Jeongin throws an elbow in his side from where he's seated beside him, earning himself a nasty glare from the man. "Don't be mean to Ynnie, she's just excited to perform."

"I'm so sorry. Let me rephrase that," he clears his throat, setting his phone down in his lap, "Oh my gosh, I know! It's all you've talked about since this morning!" he squeaks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," you mumble, rolling your eyes at your grumpy member.

Before Minho has the chance to respond, your entire world is shaken when another car T-bones you from the right.

Time seems to slow down as the car is flipped, sending you out of your seat towards the ceiling of the car. Your seatbelt manages to control some of the damage to your head, but it slices into your neck from the pressure. Blood starts to drip out of your wound, but you don't even feel it as your hazy gaze travels over to your members.

Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes land on Felix's still body in the back seat, his eyelids draped shut. He doesn't appear to have any other injuries, but you're immediately ripped away from the sight of Felix when you hear Minho groan in pain. You Jeongin a quick once over, and upon seeing no visible injuries, keep your eyes moving. You don't miss the way Jeongin's hands are firmly grasped around Felix's forearm as he shakes the older man, trying to wake him.

It's painful to twist in your seat, but you do so anyway. Catching a glimpse of Minho, you see a jagged piece of glass protruding out of his forearm. It appears small, but you know it must still hurt like a bitch. Other than that he looks okay, so you continue to look over your remaining members. His eyes are panicked as he frantically looks over the four of you. "You guys ok?" his voice shakes with fear, and his teeth are clenched from the pain radiating from the glass in his arm.

The ringing in your ears starts to subside a bit, and the grunts coming from your right get louder. Seungmin's arm is twisted at an unnatural angle, and there's blood dripping from his left eyebrow. You can't bring yourself to answer Minho, the shock still clouding your mind.

As the rest of your senses start to come back to you, your focus remains on Seungmin as he huffs in pain. You feel a stinging sensation in your thigh, but as you slowly start to drop your head to look, you feel a shaky finger reach under your chin.

Seungmin's reached his hand out, gently pulling your chin until your eyes meet his again.

"Just keep looking at me, Yn," he whispers. You do as you're told, but the pain is worsening by the second, and your breathing starts to quicken.

All else is tuned out as your eyes remain on Seungmin's unwavering gaze.

Seconds feel like hours as you sit there in the car. Your eyelids start to become heavy, and you fuzzily catch Seungmin's eyes turn frantic as your blinks become slower and more frequent.

"Just keep your eyes open, don't fall asleep," he repeats. His word are gentle at first, but as your mind turns to mud, his voice becomes louder and urgent, almost screaming at you. You feel a rough hand grab your shoulder from behind, shaking you. Their attempts to keep you awake are futile, though, as everything becomes too much for you to handle.

"No, don't close your eyes! Stay with me!" and that's the last thing you hear before you drift off into the darkness.

~ ~ ~

You're awoken to the sound of quiet repetitive beeping.

Opening your eyes is a task all in itself, your eyelids feeling impossibly heavy.

After a moment of struggle, you're met with the bright light from a window to your right. You slowly turn your head to the side, and you see Hyunjin, Chan, and Changbin all perched on the couch. It looks uncomfortable, the way all three of them are scrunched up on the little loveseat.

You let your gaze linger on them for a moment, their presence providing a calming sensation for your jumbled mind.

Suddenly, your surroundings overwhelm you. You become terribly aware of all the wires connected to you. The ECG stickers become your biggest enemy, and the IV sticking out of your hand makes you angry.

Really angry.

You groan when you try to lift your arm, a sharp, shooting pain radiating down from your shoulder. You push through the pain though, urgent to remove all these wires from your body. The bandages littering your body feel as if they're burning your skin, and you've never needed to get something off of you faster.

You begin to peel the bandages from your arms, the pain from the adhesive no match for the pain you had been feeling previous to their removal.

Your agonistic groans manage to wake Changbin, and he panics when he sees you frantically tearing at your ECG stickers.

He jumps up from the couch, earning a yelp from Hyunjin as he was using Changbin as a pillow.

You're too overwhelmed to care about their actions as you continue to tear at your skin, even the blankets covering your body feeling like burning coals on your skin.

"Woah, what are you doing? You can't take those off yet," Changbin tells you, rushing to your side to try and restrain your arms.

"They're hurting me," you mumble, wretching your arms out of Changbin's grip to continue to pull at everything that touches you.

"Yn," Hyunjin gasps, quickly standing to his feet, running over to help Changbin.

Chan awakens from the commotion, alarm bells immediately sounding in his head when he sees your panicked movements.

You become more frantic when Hyunjin grabs one of your arms from Changbin, rendering you immobile.

"Get off!" you screech, yanking on your arms as hard as you can. Chan quickly runs out of the room in search of any healthcare professional he can find.

"You're gonna hurt yourself," Hyunjin struggles against you, holding tightly onto your hand.

"Let me go!" you continue to scream like a banshee, "You're hurting me!"

Neither do as you say, fearing for what you'll do to yourself if they listen.

"You're ok," Changbin pleads, bringing one of his hands away from your arm to rest it gently on your forehead. "Please calm down, everything will be ok."

You're too panicked to notice Chan re-enter the room, a nurse trailing in behind him.

She has a shot in her hand, and she hurriedly comes up beside Changbin to administer the drug. She hastily inserts the needle into your upper arm, and it only takes seconds for your demeanor to soften. Your thrashing becomes weaker, and your shouts become quieter, turning into soft mumbles.

The guys let out a sigh upon seeing your eyes close, your stature finally relaxing into the hospital bed once again.

"What the hell was that?" Hyunjin huffs, slightly out of breath from the physical altercation.

"Sometimes patients can be violent when they wake up out of a coma. It can happen to anyone," the nurse explains, taking the chart off the wall beside the bed. "We'll get some soft restraints to put on her arms before she wakes up again. It's unlikely for her to panic again, but it's just a precaution."

The guys nod, all three of them staring at your now peaceful face.

~ ~ ~

The next time you wake up, you feel as if you're experiencing deja vu. Your eyes open slowly, and you wince at the feeling of them being crusted over from sleep.

You also become strikingly aware of the aching pain radiating from your thigh. Your leg remains immobile, and you feel the constricting cast running from your mid thigh down to your ankle.

You go to bring your hand up to rub your face, but your movements are restricted. Your attention is brought to your hands, now laying limply by your side. There are restraints covering your wrists. Your face contorts into an expression of confusion, and you glance at the couch to your right.

Seated there are Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin. Your deja vu hits you harder when you see them resting against one another, sleeping soundly.

"Chan," you call out to him, your voice surprisingly hoarse, your throat scratchy and raw.

He immediately jolts up, waking the other two in the process.

"Hey, you're awake," he says, getting up from the couch.

He's cautious as he walks over to you, taking slow steps to get to your bed. Changbin and Hyunjin watch from the couch, keeping their distance. Their expressions rival Chan's, somehow looking even more timid.

"Hi," you suddenly feel shy under their gazes, "Why are you looking at me like that? I can't even move; can we get these things off of me."

"Yea, sorry, the nurse said it was just precautionary. I'll go get someone to take them off of you," Hyunjin gets up from the couch, hurrying out into the hallway.

Realization dawns on you, and you bring your eyes to meet Chan's again. "Did I hurt someone? What happened?"

"You were trying to hurt yourself," a nurse enters the room, answering the question for Chan. "You were in a coma for a couple days. Sometimes, when patients wake, they can turn aggressive. Which you did, but nobody was hurt, the boys stopped you before you could do any damage."

You just nod, not entirely sure how to respond. She explains in more detail what had happened as she takes the restraints off your wrists.

"We had to sedate you, so you were out for an additional day. On the bright side, your coma allowed for your body to do some of the tough healing while you were unconscious. You had a surgery on your thigh the night you were brought in due to a compound fracture in your femur. The surgery was successful. It seems to be doing well for now, of course we'll have to bring you back in for some check-ups, but you should be good to go for now."

Your eyes widen as she goes on and on. Chan sits beside you, rubbing a hand up and down your back to help comfort you. The nurse continues about the paperwork, and leaves to gather it so you can leave.

"How are you feeling?" Changbin asks from the end of your bed.

"Overwhelmed," you answer curtly. The thought of not being able to perform for a while hurts your heart. Not only that, but you can't even walk!

Your suddenly hit with a wave of memories from the night of the accident, and your eyes water at the thought of the rest of your members who were in the car with you.

"Are the other guys alright? Where are they?" your voice is panicked as you ramble off questions.

"They're ok, we promise," Chan reassures you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "They went home a couple days ago to rest. None of them got hurt as badly as you did. They all got some stitches, Seungmin's got a broken arm, and Felix has a pretty nasty concussion, but they're ok."

You sigh in relief, allowing your head to rest on Chan's shoulder.

The nurse comes back in, a folder filled with paperwork in hand. "As soon as you fill these out, you'll be good to go! Your medications and dosages are in this little baggy. You had some lacerations on your side, but we just covered them with butterfly bandages. The stitches on your neck can be taken out at your next appointment. Just be weary of them as you go about your day, try not to turn your head too quickly," she instructs, handing over the paperwork.

Within a few minutes, everything is filled out and you've been put in a wheelchair. Chan stands behind you, wheeling you out towards the van. Hyunjin carries your crutches from beside you, and Changbin holds your medicine and the paperwork.

Getting in the car was a hassle all in itself, as your leg felt like a million pounds with the cast on it. Your hip was so sore from laying in bed for so long, so you opted to have Chan lift you into the car.

Once finally settled, you lean back against the seat and close your eyes. You don't want to admit it, but you know these next few months are going to be difficult.

~ ~ ~

It's been a few weeks now, and things have started to go back to how they were before the accident. This is the first regularly scheduled week since then, and you're grateful for the normalcy.

Your managers had put everything on hold for a while, allowing you and the rest of your members to recover some. They knew it was a difficult time for all of you, and you were thankful for their leniency.

You have been spending most of your time on the downstairs couch, lounging around in front of the T.V. Various members would join you throughout the day, helping you with whatever you needed. Chan has certainly been the most doting, running at your every beck and call.

Today was no different; Chan decided to stay home with you while the rest of the members went to dance practice. He knew it'd probably put him behind, but they weren't set to perform for a good while, so he'll just catch up a different day. Plus, he knows Minho can handle them all just fine without him there.

The two of you are lounging on the couch, watching one of your favorite T.V shows, when Chan gets up to use the bathroom.

You hear the door close, and realize now's your chance. Your stomach's been growling for the past hour, but you didn't want to make Chan make you something.

However, you are done being the world's longest lounging couch potato, so you rise to your feet, grabbing your crutches from beside you, and make your way into the kitchen.

You know you don't have long before Chan finds you, so you ravage through the fridge quickly to try and find something to eat. You see your leftovers from the other night neatly packed away, so you grab those.

You carefully set your crutches down, leaning them on the counter next to you before hopping, leftovers in hand, to the microwave.

Unfortunately, the rug in front of the sink slips beneath you, and you fall onto the ground, your leftovers opening and spilling out onto you.

"Oh for fuck's sake," you sigh. Thankfully, you're not hurt, your butt just a little sore, but some of the sauce now decorates your cast.

You hear the door fling open from down the hall, and a frantic Chan bursts into the kitchen a mere second later. "What are you doing?" he's panicked as he rushes over to you, his arms looping under yours to pull you up.

"I was just going to heat these up because I was hungry, but then I slipped. I'm fine," you lightly push Chan away from you, knowing fully well that you can stand on your own.

He looks slightly taken back by your attitude, but nevertheless moves towards you again. He wraps his arms around you in an attempt to pick you up, no doubt to carry you back into your permanent spot on the living room couch, but you give him a firmer shove this time. "Did I hurt you?" he worries, his eyebrows scrunching.

"No, I just want to walk to the bathroom myself and get cleaned up," you explain, doing your best to keep your composure.

"I can help, let me grab you a wash rag for your cast," he bends down next to you, rummaging through the cupboard.

"Chan, please," you sigh. As much as you loved being babied at first, enough is enough. "I need some time by myself. I love you guys, but I'm not sure I've had a moment alone since the accident." Your arms are crossed as he stands, a pout forming on his face.

"But we just want to help you," he says, puppy-dog eyes on full display.

"And I thank you for all you guys have done the past month, but I really need to start doing things for myself again," you reach past him, grabbing your crutches and head down the hall to your bathroom. "Now to get this sauce off me," you mumble as you push the door open with the end of your crutch.

~ ~ ~

You're laying on your bed later in the day, knee propped up on a plump pillow to help alleviate some of the pain from your aching leg, when you hear a knock on door.

You tell them to come in, and the door opens to reveal Chan. "Hi," he's timid as he walks in. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed, a guilty look on his face.

"What's up?" you ask, sliding your bookmark into the crease of your novel.

"I wanted to apologize on behalf of all of us. We've been really clingy since the accident, and we didn't realize we were overstepping."

"Chan," you sigh, adjusting yourself to sit next to him. "Please don't beat yourself up about this. Honestly, I was just a little frustrated earlier and took it out on you. You guys have helped me more than you know these last few weeks. I really don't mind all the doting."

His eyes light up at that. "Really?" his voice is giddy, and you regret that you were the cause of his sadness before.

While the overprotectiveness really did get on your nerves a bit, if it brings them that much happiness to take care of you, you suppose you can get past your grumpiness and let them do it.

"Really."

"Guys, she changed her mind!" he yells, and not even a second later, your door swings open, seven smiling faces staring back at you.

They hurry into your room, clumsily fighting each other to sit on your bed. They're still cautious of your leg, but they all manage to fit, even if a little squished.

"Don't make me regret this," you joke, ruffling Seungmin's hair from where he's laid out on your lap.

"You know you love us," Chan comments, smirking at you.

"I certainly do."

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #bang chan #skz bangchan #stray kids bang chan #bang chan x reader #skz angst #skz hurt/comfort #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member #stray kids ninth member #skz ninth member

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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months

Text

Normal People Things (dark!141 x fem!Reader)

Soap drags you to his place to meet with his lieutenant. It goes as smoothly as you can imagine. AO3 CW and tags: Non-con, poly, group sex, size kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat, forced orgasms, praise, humiliation

The ride is short – shorter than you anticipated. You don’t know if you wanted it to be longer if you needed more time to sort out the thoughts flying in your head – you feel numb, empty, hollow, all of those stupid words for stupid expressions because nothing can quite describe the dread settling in your stomach.

Your throat burns, your makeup is ruined, you are shaking like a kitten left under a rain – you listen to some light music, something you could hear in the car of a guy you’d probably be interested in. Classic rock, some melodic sensations, if you squint and cover your mouth, you can almost relax and stop the desire to puke. You felt mostly sober when the Scot was pushing his dick in your mouth, the horror of the situation forcing your mind to clear up a little – but now it’s foggy again, blurry and messy every time you open your eyes just to see the same man on the front seat, smiling every time he catches you looking at him through the mirror.

He broke your phone, obviously – snatched it from your hands and broke it in two with horrifying ease. He kissed you after this, cold lips on your forehead. You were crying, or so you think – you were crying this whole ordeal, your face feeling wet and burning as he was fucking laughing, trying to get you to talk to him. You wouldn’t, even if your throat weren’t hoarse and hurting from the fucking he gave you.

“Want to grab somethin’ to eat, bonnie? I know a bloody lovely place, eh?”

You didn’t respond, the thought of taking something from a guy who eligibly kidnapped you made you sick. Besides, it’s not like food will do you any good – your stomach is spinning from a combination of fear and alcohol, and even though you’d love to ruin this pretty car, you don’t want to evocate even more negative feelings from its owner. He hasn’t hurt you too much yet – no bruises, no broken bones or blood, and you don’t want to provoke him further.

“Don’t cry so much, I didn’t even fucked ye. I’ll get ye off later, aye?”

You don’t want him to ever touch you again – despite that disgusting, burning feeling on your panties, the way your little cunt is fucking soaked because his voice is gruff, his face is pretty, and he almost touched you in a way that wasn’t making you sick – it all dropped now, thankfully, your mind is reminded of just how horrible he really is. “Just sit yer wee arse here, lassie. Lt and I will take care of ye” You almost fell asleep when he finally stopped in front of…a building. You don’t know what you were expecting – an evil lair, maybe some grimy base where monsters like him are being made. Not a rather normal apartment building, maybe a bit too scary and dark for your liking – you probably wouldn’t want to live here or even be around this place at night, but, ultimately, it doesn’t look like an evil base.

This only makes your condition worse – you start sobbing again, useless and pathetic begging as the Scot drags you out of the car, supporting your wobbly legs and making sure you won’t fall down to the ground as he gently caresses your body. He is too fucking soft, too gentle – even his grip on your wrists isn’t bruising, he has one hand on your waist, gently pushing you towards the building.

***

Ghost wasn’t expecting guests today. He just got out of another deployment, a few days from the previous mission, ready to get back any time if it weren’t for the fact they all deserved a little retreat – yet, he was planning to go with alcohol, maybe some lowly jerk-off sessions with Johnny and shitton of cigarettes to pass the day. What he wasn’t expecting is his sergeant spamming the 141 group chat – shitty idea, really, too much liability and security problems, despite all the measures Price took to encrypt everything – with pictures of cute, crying girl being all adorable, scared and fucking defenseless.

No one in 141 is a good person – it comes with the job, really, if you’re willing to be a good guy with a gun, there will always be a moment when the lines become blurred. Dragging a civilian girl to their damp apartment isn’t a life-or-death decision made in the field, but they all deserve a bit of sweetness after a mission, right?

They can be good for you. Simon isn’t sure there is anything in his heart that can still be declared as soft and fuzzy feelings, but he is willing to try and find it, even if for a night. They won’t be letting you go, obviously, Lasswell won’t cover their sorry asses in case you’re getting out with a marvelous surviving story, so you all would have a lot of time to get to know each other.

— Thought you’d bring food, Johnny.

— I did. Not my fault they gave up sweets as freebies.

— How is she?

— Quiet. Our lassie is a smart girl, eh? Didn’t even fight too much.

— Fuckin’ hell. Thought they stopped making those a while ago.

— Good thing I found her, aye?

Ghost stands at the door of their shared apartment, staring at adorable scared you. You’re shaking in his sergeant’s hands, poor thing, too fucking terrified to even run – you have mascara smeared all over your face, drool and cum on your lips, and he drags a finger to your mouth, wiping it all away.

You instinctively suck on his finger, the natural obedience coming with a very simple “please, don’t hurt me” plea – and he fucking knows you will be so good for them. He is dragging you inside, allowing Soap to push the takeout bag on the small table in the kitchen while Simon is dealing with all of those silly clothes you’re wrapped in.

You beg him to stop, but, at this point, even you don’t think he will. All ounces of hope were destroyed already. You aren’t sure what you want anymore – maybe you want to just lay down and sleep, hoping that they will stop tormenting you. The ache between your legs only grows stronger when Ghost drags you to the bedroom, his strong, bulky hands holding you so perfectly – so firmly, you can’t even wish to move away.

The mattress creaks under the combined weight of your bodies. You roll to the side immediately, your brain is foggy from alcohol again – you don’t even register his rough, firm hands as he is slowly dragging the ruined dress from your body, revealing the underwear you spend so much time choosing and buying. You liked the combination – you wanted to wear something nice today, even if no one would have seen it.

Now you have this horrifying man in a skull balaclava and harsh hands tugging on the straps of your bra. You sob, head spinning and vomit picking in your throat. The man puts a hand between your shoulder blades, just enough pressure to make you grounded – to remind you that there is no way out, even in your mind.

— Calm down, love. Won’t hurt ya.

You choke on a laugh – they are literally going to fucking assault you, you were already forced to suck on Soap’s dick, and yet, this man is playing gentleman with you while undressing you at the same time. You cry again, your tears met with a soft hand on your cheek – checking on you.

God, you want to drown in this affection, no matter how artificial it is.

— L…let me go, please. I won’t tell anyone.

— Too late for that, eh? Johnny don’t have any bloody manners.

Scot screams from the kitchen, making you wince from the sound.

“Bloody hell, Lt, I ken ye were fine with draggin’ our lassie here a minute ago!“ You sobs intensify, and you never felt more fragile than before – just one loud sound is enough to break you. The British guy drags you into an uncomfortably tight embrace almost immediately – you’d say you’re almost thankful for the moment of affection, but he snaps your bra a second later.

— Sorry, love. Will buy you a new one.

His fingertips are rough on your skin, a contrast that sends shivers down your spine. You whine, feeling stranded like this – feeling like you’re going to be fucking sick from the moisture in your panties. You hate yourself for being this touch starved, but the man is as rough as he is mysterious – and by the look of his figure, perfectly sculpted hands, and a healthy amount of tummy that doesn’t make him look any less intimidating, he might be up to your tastes. It's too bad you don’t have a choice anyway.

— Don’t touch me.

— Can’t help it. You’re pretty.

You feel like you are going to have a fucking panic attack. This is too much – you feel sick, you feel mortified, you are getting your hands out of his hold with the power of surprise and dragging them closer to your mouth, trying to contain the involuntary bile collecting in your throat. You gag, finally feeling all the alcohol you took, getting back to bite you in the ass.

Before you could say or try anything else, before you could even be bent over, trying to calm yourself down before you dirty everything in this fine-looking bedroom, Brit already dragged you to the bathroom, allowing you to look at the tile floor and white ceramics while you were vomiting your guts, cum, and anxiety out of your stomach.

It took you a few minutes before you could get anything out – and another few while you were just holding the toilet seat, not even caring about how unsanitary it was. You feel like you’re going to die, the throbbing in your head only intensifying as you could almost feel dropping out of conscience. God, you will never drink again – even though it’s a promise that will break you right after you break it.

— Bloody hell, love. Easy. Easy.

— F…fuck you.

— You will, love. Promise.

The skull mask guy was rubbing your back the whole time, a motion you didn’t expect from a kidnapper, rapist and a fucking arsehole. He gently took your hair out of the way, he slowly rubbed calming gestures in your aching muscles, and you leaned into his touch, your state was finally reaching the breaking point – you were longing for the soft touch of your captor, not even caring that he is just as awful as his friends, rummaging through various bags somewhere in the other room.

You cry, the depths of the situation finally getting to you – and he drags you into a tight hug after wiping your mouth with a paper towel, throwing it away before you could feel sick from the smell again.

He talks you through it with his grovely voice and deep accent, and you can’t help but lean in and listen.

— Calm down. Can’t have you panicking on my cock.

— D…don’t touch me. Please.

— You need this, love. We’re not the worst people who could have picked ya up.

— You’re a bunch of fucking ra…

He stops you immediately – holds your hand, and drags you back to the bedroom almost too rough, dropping you to the bed before you can manage to scramble your legs and writhe away from his touch. You sob again, crying even more – you don’t have makeup now. Thankfully, everything was mostly wiped out by the paper towels and a mix of your tears, but you still feel horrible. Laying on the soft bed in your soaked panties made you feel like a slut, and this is not the feeling you were expecting out of this night. You just fucking wanted to go home and sleep the alcohol out, not…this.

— We’ll take care of you. Be a good girl for us, and I will make Johnny pay for not getting you off, eh?

You can hear the Scot again, emerging from the kitchen in an apron – to your surprise. He looks too domestic, too clean, his hair is a bit disheveled after your little attempt at breaking out, and you can see the resemblance between him and a very, very sad and polite dog. If he had a tail, it would be curled between his knees, a look of genuine guilt almost making you believe that he wanted to apologize for being so forceful.

— Steamin’ Jesus, I tried to be a gentleman. Didn’t want to scare our lassie too much.

— She’s shivering. Poor girl, was Johnny this scary?

— It’s yer mask. Wee things always scared of those.

They both laugh, clearly not taking your tears seriously. You curl into the bed, trying to protect your exposed breasts and midriff as much as possible. You don’t want to be touched, you feel dirty and used already, but their attentive gaze is making your skin burn and crawl from the feelings you never thought you knew before. It’s a horrible situation, but somehow, you are almost flattered because of how affectionate they both look for someone as insignificant as you.

Maybe, it’s your brain trying to protect itself from further trauma. Maybe, if you’d lie to yourself long enough, you could pretend you want this.

Ghost looks at you, drinking the drowning panic in your eyes. You’re so pretty, so helpless, he doesn’t even want to think of what could happen to you if Johnny weren’t here to pick you up. You’d be murdered in cold blood, left laying on the side of the street after a group of some perverts would be done with you. You don’t deserve to be treated like this, you deserve a proper help and calmness of living with them – and he knows that once he is done with bringing his first orgasm with your body, you will learn to love it too. Maybe not at first, but the seeds would be there.

He tries to be on his best behavior as he slowly drags his body between your legs, catching your ankles once you tried to kick him. You’re like a kitten, growling and hissing, clawing on his hands like it didn’t turn him on even more – he pins you under his weight easily, enjoying the audience of Soap already palming himself through his pants. Fucking pervert – he already came in your mouth not so long ago, but the lieutenant knows that given a chance, his sergeant will break this girl for another three rounds in a row. They can’t have that, right?

— Calm, love. Don’t make it harder for yourself.

— Stop…please, just…god, wait, I…

It’s such empty words, he knows you can’t calm yourself down – you’re a pretty girl, really, you’re cute and adorable, and you don’t deserve his firm hand taking off your lace panties, but he knows that you will love it after a few more times. You’re dripping already, a combination of manhandling and previous foreplay making you adorably weak for them.

— Will make you nice and wet, yeah? Such a pretty cunt, bound to give it a taste.

— W..wait, please, don’t, really, j…just let me…

— Quiet, love. You’ll fuckin’ love it.

Ghost drags his fingers straight into your folds, spreading them as quickly as possible. He would love to give you more time to adjust, but he was hard ever since Johnny made that goddamn call, and patience isn’t his best quality when on leave – he needs you in all ways you can handle. On your back, preferably, he wants to see that pretty face of yours when he will bottom himself in your cunt and make you squeal. Maybe play with your ass for a little – if you’re going to be the team’s favorite girl, they need all of your holes ready to be used.

You squeak from surprise when he drags his mask on the upper half of his face, revealing his mouth. Clean-shaved chin, a bit of uneven blonde stubble, strong jawline – he smirks because he knows he is quite the opposite of ugly, that even after all the burns and scars, he is still that rugged type of handsome that ladies in pubs just love to touch. He wonders if you’re more of a typical pretty boy type – he wonders if you’d like Gaz as much as you love Simon. And you fucking adore him by the sight of your wet pussy almost dripping on his tongue.

You beg him to stop when he slides his tongue in, the feeling of his harsh fingers stretching you only making everything hotter, less bearable. You don’t want to like it, but he is handsome and strong, he is whispering sweet compliments into your pussy, sliding sloppy kisses all over your folds, not forgetting to pay attention to your throbbing clit.

“Such a pretty cunt for us. What was the last time she got so much attention?”

He kisses you down there sloppily, adding another finger almost immediately to really make you feel that burn. You’re crying from stimulation, it’s been a while since the last time you had anything so heated – you just want him to stop, to proceed, to let you go, and also to never stop kissing your pussy and collecting all the juice that’s been flowing from you. You make the bedsheets under your ass wet, and Ghost just can’t help but stretch you a bit more, enjoying the sound of your confused, almost pained squeals.

“Stop crying, love. I could have taken your arse instead.”

He can only imagine how adorable you’d look, crying from his cock in your plump rear. He is by no means small, and the thought of tearing your pretty arse just a little, making you cry from being filled so much, makes him even harder. He needs to be patient, can’t break your rear before Captain gets here – but god, isn’t patience the hardest virtue.

“S’good for me. Sorry, love, can’t wait much longer. Got a bloody lovely cunt f’ me”

You cry even harder when Ghost finally slides his cock in you – one harsh thrust, the sound of his hips slapping against yours, is enough to make you sick again. You’re stretched, dripping wet, it wouldn’t hurt if only he had a normal-sized cock, not the fucking monstrosity he is showing in your underprepared pussy. Nothing would prepare you for this – he started moving immediately, with little regard for your comfort. The niceties he was whispering were falling on deaf ears as he slammed inside of you over and over again.

You feel sick.

— Fuck. S’ tight for me.

You’re clenching around his dick, not allowing him to pull back. Such a pretty girl, he doesn’t know what he would do without that feeling – he wants to fucking devour you whole, to have you laid out for him so prettily. He bottoms finally, stretching you beyond any man could – you feel him somewhere deep, near your cervix, hitting your sensitive walls while all you can do is cry for him to stop tormenting you like this. You can only squeal under him, for him, he is hitting all of your special spots at the same time, and you don’t know if you could really handle him like this.

His hand lands on your folds, playing with your clit – only making you more and more wet with each second, you almost feel like you are passing the breaking point already. He is stronger than you want him to be, and you feel like he is going to fucking break you, every attempt of squirming from under him is met with a fierce grip on your waist, dragging you back where you belong – moaning and crying on his cock.

The intrusion stopped being painful after a few minutes, you’re open enough to allow his cock to slide in and out easily. He bites your neck, munching on sensitive flesh like he is going to rip a chuck off you, leaving marks as if he were a wild dog. You moan under him, the feeling of his teeth on your skin isn’t exactly horrible – but not too enjoyable either.

You squirm softly, hoping he would at least cum soon.

— That’s right. Dumb civvie girls should just relax for the ride.

— N…not dumb. I’m not dumb.

— Only a dumb girl like you would get in Johnny’s hands. S’ry, love, but you really are dumb.

— I’m…

— It’s alright. We like dumb girls.

He moans in your ear, biting your earlobe, engaging in a sloppy kiss that allows you to taste your pleasure on his lips. You hate every second, you want to loathe every inch of his body, but his hand is moving faster and faster, steady rhythm that makes you see stars every time he plunges his cock inside – and, oh god, you can’t help but feel your pussy throbbing around him, the tight knot in your lower tummy getting warmer and warmer as his movements steadily brings you to an orgasm.

It hits you too fast to be prepared for – just a few minutes later, you’re panting under him, mouth open agape as he slides his cock even faster, abusing your poor, sensitive cunt. You’re milking him for cum, not even caring that you are not on the pill – you just concentrate on the head of his cock hitting your G-spot in the most perfect of timings and his rough fingertips caressing your clit in a way that makes you go wild.

You cum with a cry, soft, squeaky sobs escaping your lips as you hiccup and moan, pressing your hips against his in an attempt to become as close as possible. You feel his hot cum filling you up, a slight bulge in your lower tummy becoming even more prominent.

Ghost kisses you on the forehead as he slowly emerges from you, hissing as your tight walls refuse to let him go. You’re so fucking perfect, all flushed and panting heavily, neck covered in bite marks and outline of his bruises forming on your waist.

He pats your pussy a few times, making you shiver from the feeling.

— Such a pretty girl. Lay here, your cunt is goin’ to be a bit more visitors today.

He smiles, kissing you on the lips again – you whimper, curling on the bed, feeling the hot cum dripping from your exhausted, sore pussy. You feel his hand affectionately patting your head as if you were a cat, and he hums in approval when you instinctively lean towards his hand, getting as much affection as you possibly can. He brings you a pillow and drags your head so it would rest more comfortably – and you already feel extremely tired, your eyes closing.

You’re almost ready to sleep when you feel the Scot sliding in bed with you, slowly spreading your legs.

#cod #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #yandere ghost #yandere soap #soap x reader #dark ghost #yandere 141 #141 x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #yandere #yandere male #yandere imagines #male yandere

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jamjaemin · 7 months

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𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

Adult content, +18 mdi

❐ content warnings ➩ nsfw, mention of sex positions, dom!members & subf!reader, smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink....

❐ author's note ➩ I've been going feral for dreamies again y'all know what it is now, happy reading 'n hope y'all enjoy this <3

❐ word count ➩ 1.1k

𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬

Mating press: There’s nothing more intimate than face-to-face, slow, deep penetration sex, and this position just may be perfect for both of your likings. “Fuuuuck yess…” He’s a pussy drunk man starving to drill deeper into you, so he wouldn’t pass up on putting you into a mating press when he wanted, craving for the deep insides of your cunt as his hips slammed hard against your thighs. “Lift you legs up, baby.” You obliged, hoisting your calves over his shoulders. He let out a grunt once the base of his cock slapped against your ass, eliciting a long whimper from you as well. The further he plunged into your pussy, the louder the skin clapping sounds grew, blending with your synched grunts and pants. His free hand made its way to yours, locking it in his touch as it sunk further into the mattress with every thrust. “Mmmhmmmm!” You cried out, toes curling from feeling his tip nudge a deep spot inside of you which made you clench around his shaft at the same time. “I love it when you squeeze me like that…” He chuckled, rewarding your leg with kisses. “Oh my god,” His hair curtains your faces once he leans forward in attempts for a kiss, locking your lips for a hot, wet exchange. “This is bad, I’m gonna cum soon.” He grunts, no longer able to hold his load in from how hard you’ve been clenching. “I’m close too.” You panted out, letting your face fall to the side to bite on your finger. “Look at me,” Eyes half-lifded, you didn’t even notice his free hand making its way in between your bodies to push and rub against your swollen clit. And that was your cue to scream his name, your legs tensing over his shoulders as your orgasm washed over. He soon emptied his load inside you, careful to pull out and watch the cum spill out before pushing it in with his fingers.

Jaemin, Mark, Jeno

Lotus position: previous rough and deep thrusts relaxes into rather gentle ruts, plunging your body deeper onto sheets. You already know what’s happening next once his arms scoop your upper body towards his, now putting the both of you into a sitting position with his cock still tucked deep in you. “ah yes!—” You breathed in profound satisfaction once he links your legs around his hips, penetrating further up against your g-spot, causing you to shift and squirm in his touch. “It’s okay, baby, you’re doing so good. Behave for me, pretty girl.” He fluttered soft kisses on your clavicle in attempts to relax your body, releasing the tension from your bones to help you find comfort in your current position. “That’s it, baby, what a good girl you are….” He uttered, starting to carefully rut his hips upwards. You were soon being bounced on his length with the help of his strong thighs and arms, his head buried in between your breasts and heavily grunting against your moist skin. “baby…” You call out, hands over his shoulders for support and your eyes fluttering shut in immense pleasure. “yes darling…” He responds, tracing his hands over the curve of your back and lifting his head to yours for a steamy kiss. He loves this position in a way that he could roam his hands over your body, lock your lips with such comfort and easy, all while his cock is hitting the best places inside of you. It’s an incredible way to heighten your connection and arousal, which always lead you to the most earth-shattering orgasms of your sex life.

Jisung, Mark, Jaemin

Spooning 69: You enjoy the closeness of spooning and the thrill of oral while your positioned on your sides, leg hoisted over one another’s shoulder while pleasuring each other’s sexes. “Stay still, baby, stay still.” He pulls away from your pussy for a moment before diving back in, treating it with delicate licks and slurp whilst hollowing your cheeks around his thick cock. “fuck…” He whines out, bracing his arms harder around your thighs. You hummed in response, going all-out for a deepthroat while you clawed on his thighs. “Mhmmmm, love that lovely throat of yours and this pretty pussy.” He babbled, brushing his fingers over your leg and then to the back of your knee. "feels too good, doesn’t it, baby?” He asks before flicking his tongue over your clit, sending you to whine around his cock. now licking slow, long strides over your slit. “Babe, please,” You whimper out, withrawing from his length to tease just the tip, your hand jerking his veiny shaft. “Wish I could see you right now,” He says, now inserting two fingers into your hole. “Mghhmm!” your legs started to feel numb, and tension building up in your core. “Fuck my face, babe.” You spat out, and he was thrusting into your throat in no time, and hitting the back of your throat. Soon enough, you’re cumming all over his tongue and him down your throat.

Haechan, chenle

Spooning: He loves how the position allows him to do so many things all while getting your whole body all to himself. You should be busy in the morning, but leaving his arms feels very guilting. “Five more minutes” turns to “ten” until you’re both now stripped of your night clothes and his hands are groping you from behind on every place he can. “I’m gonna put it in, tell me if it’s too much.” You nod in response, letting him push his morning hard-on from behind. His breath hot against your ear, you couldn’t help but shiver from the feeling of his cock invading your walls and the warmth of his mouth. “I’m all the way in.” He carefully pushes one of your leg for better access and then starting to plunge in your pussy. You gasp from the feeling, throwing your head over his shoulder as he provided your neck and jaw with kisses. You blindly reached for his hand as you continue to let him hit from behind, letting out breathy cries of your own. “Darling, just hold on to my hand.” He informed before bending hid leg up, now hitting your spot from a more pleasurable angle. Your grip on his hand tightened and your breath became more unstable by the passing minutes. “Look at me while i fuck you, baby.” He demands, and you oblige in an instant, meeting his soft lips against yours. “Close, close close! Ah—” His fingers pushing against your clit was the last straw, now sending you iver the edge as he emptied himself inside of you, turning the both of you into panting messes, then shower together after you both calm down.

Renjun, Jisung

©jamjaemin — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

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sim0nril3y · 6 months

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His Shirt

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: When searching for some comfortable clothes you find an old shirt of Simon's and decide to throw it on and Simon has an unexpected reaction. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, smut, oral (female receiving), fingering, dirty talk, praise, canon-typical swearing.

“Home, baby.” The sound of your voice called through your home. A night out with the girls had been more fun that you were expecting, a dinner and some drinks had been long overdue, plus there was so much going on in all your lives now it was just good to catchup with them. “Watching the football.” Simon called back from the living room.

Honestly, every cell in your body screamed to join, but there was a deep chill that was set into your bones from the cold weather outside. “Be right there.” Feet carrying you upstairs quickly you entered the bedroom, stripping out of your uncomfortable outfit down to your underwear and trying to find something more comfortable to throw on.

Nabbing a few clothing items, you threw them on the bed and went in search of a pair of socks, rummaging through your drawer to find the only ones there were an odd few that had devastating holes ripped through them. “Bollocks.” You muttered, rounding the bed and then searching through Simon’s drawer instead. Smiling as you nabbed a pair of socks that would engulf your feet, regardless you slipped them on.

About to shut the drawer you came to an abrupt stop when something red caught your eye, pulling it out a smile crawled across your lips. It was an old United shirt, probably decades old now and more than likely a gift because you just couldn’t imagine Simon buying this for himself. You held the material between your fingers and smiled to yourself, this could be interesting.

Venturing back downstairs, lingering behind him, sneaking into the kitchen as you quizzed casually. “What did you have for tea?” “Ordered a pizza.” Simon responded evenly; eyes still trained on the television laxly. “Some left in the fridge, if you want it.” Then adding, always looking out for your wellbeing. A moment of pause formed between you two as you lingered in the kitchen for a moment longer. “How was your night?” It was an off-handed comment, you knew that Simon didn’t really care for an answer because all he cared about was you made it home safely.

You built up enough nerve to enter the lounge, rounding the sofa to stand beside him with a thoughtful look on your face. “It was fine. It was nice seeing everyone…” Rattling off with gentle shrugs of your shoulders, forcefully ignoring the way that Simon gawked at you all dolled up in that shirt. “Fuck me…” It was low. It was almost like a prayer. For a moment you could have convinced yourself that those words hadn’t fallen from his lips, but they had and it made you pussy weep.

“What’re you wearing?” The sound of his voice as hoarse and low, boarding on a warning, it set your insides of fire and you attempted not to falter under his hard gaze. “Hmm? Oh this…” Your fingers tugged on the hem on the shirt. “I was just looking for some socks to borrow and I found this…” Then spinning on one foot and allowing him to observe the entire look. “Is it okay?”

The question hung between you before Simon muttered. “Fuckin’ hell…” Then scooting forward on the sofa and commanding. “Here…” Pointing between his legs. It was so difficult to fight the smile as you sauntered towards him, standing there between his spread legs. His dangerous eyes lingered across your body and moments later his hands were skimming up your bare legs, clasping at your outer thighs and letting out a low groan. “Fuckin’… gorgeous…”

Behind you the TV roared to life as Man United scored another goal, smiling down at his enamoured face you mentioned. “They just scored…” “Don’t care.” He grunted and in a sudden movement you were yanked down to be laying beneath his immense form on the plush cushions of the sofa. “Simon!” A squeak fell from your lips as your head spun wildly.

“Shh.” Simon grumbled. “Let me take care of you…” His lips skimmed against your own, but ultimately avoided your lips as you tried to capture him into a searing kiss. Instead, he began to meticulously kiss down your frame, the feel of his hot mouth over the soft fabric of the shirt. Those war-worn hands tugging down your knickers and chortling lowly at the wet stain that was pooled into the gusset. “Dirty fuckin’ girl.”

A moment later your legs were thrown over his shoulders, exposing your wet cunt to his wonting eyes. “Fuck…” He whispered, leaning forward to pepper small kisses against your mound, nibbling at your lips to cause you to arch and squirm in his tight hold, his lips were everywhere but where you needed them to be. “Stay still.” He muttered, again another warning and this wasn’t one that you were willing to test.

The way that Simon’s tongue worked was like magic, his eyes focused up on your face as your own rolled back in pleasure at the feel. His tongue languidly seeping up and down your slit, teasing your hole for a moment before raising up to flick slowly at your clit. “Oh, god.” You whispered, trying to follow his orders but unable to fight the express. Simon smirked at the way your thighs quivering around his head, wanting to trap him there forever.

When his mouth sealed around your clit a noise of pure pleasure spilled from your throat, arching up off the sofa and gripping your fingers into his short hair, tugging at the tresses as your toes curled in delight. “Ohmygod. Ohmygod.” You were panting now, taut nipples pressing against the fabric of the shirt. Simon couldn’t take his eyes from your writhing frame, sucking from intensely, grunting and groaning into your cunt, praising you in his head as his mouth was occupied.

A thigh was released from his grip as two of his thick fingers sunk into your wet heat, causing you to cry out again along with the crowd of the television. “Si-mon…” Hoarse and wonting, you couldn’t control the sounds that were tumbling from your throat now, completely feral with pleasure as his fingers hammered into her weeping walls, finding that special spot and overwhelming it with his fingers. “Ohfuck. So… so close… Ohgod… Oh… Simon~” A cry of pleasure tumbled from your lips.

As if some kind of cosmic joke the television roared to life again as another goal was scored whilst your entire frame spasmed and convulsed as his lips remained taut around your cunt, suckling hard on your clit to throw you into your orgasm. Popping away with a slick ‘pop’ moments later Simon smirked and pressed small kisses to your swollen cunt, slipping his fingers from where they were buried. “Good girl.” He whispered against your skin. “My good girl.” He mentioned, pressing a sweet kiss to your engorged clit and fighting back a grin as you jolted.

Simon spent time soothing you, pressing little quaint kisses to your thighs and rubbing your stomach soothingly and after a while you seemed to regain enough composure to speak. “T-think I’m… I’m going to need to wear your shirts more often…” A chuckle came from the man between your legs and he bite into your thigh playfully and responded. “I wouldn’t disagree with that, love.”

Masterlist | Ask | 14-11-2023

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley imagine #ghost smut #ghost angst #simon riley smut #ghost mw3 #cod mw3 #call of duty mw3 #simon ghost riley smut #1k

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goose8791 · 3 months

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Piercings

warnings: mentions piercings

"Luke, sit still," she instructed, her voice a gentle yet firm command.

"How can I sit still when you have a needle next to my face?" he retorted, a hint of playful defiance in his tone.

"You wanted me to pierce your ear," she reminded him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. The needle in her hand caught the soft glow of the dim room. From his spot on the couch, he looked up at her, a playful challenge dancing in his eyes. In response, she rolled her eyes.

"Don’t make this weird, okay?" she told him, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Before he could say anything, she threw her leg over his, positioning herself so she sat on his lap, facing him. The sudden closeness caught him off guard, and his face lit up in a subtle shade of red. Leaning closer into his side, she resumed her attempt to pierce his ear.

"Stay still," she murmured, her breath brushing against his neck. He froze, feeling the warmth of her proximity. Her fingers skillfully moved back his curls from around his ears as she drew a small dot with the pen that she grabbed from behind her ear.

She shifted back to face him, a question lingering in her eyes. "Do you actually want me to do this?" she queried, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. His nod was emphatic, his gaze fixed on her face.

"You sure?" she pressed again, a hint of teasing in her tone. "Yes! Gods, just do it," he responded, frustration and fluster evident in his voice.

"Okay, okay, okay," she chuckled, her laughter filling the room. Leaning back toward his ear, the needle poised, she deftly pricked the skin. Pressure followed, and instinctively, his hands flew to her waist, thumbs pressing into her hips. Unyielding, she remained determined, pushing the needle through the skin. A hiss escaped him, his fingers digging into her hip bone.

"I'm almost done," she whispered, threading the metal through the skin. Another hiss followed, his fingers maintaining their grip on her hips. With practised ease, she screwed the end of the piercing, ensuring it wouldn't move. A tap on his shoulder signalled the completion of the task. "You're done," she laughed, amusement dancing in her eyes as she observed his reaction, his eyes screwed shut in both pain and relief.

"You know, for the best swordsman in camp, I really thought that you wouldn’t be scared of a little needle," she teased, laughter bubbling in her voice. His eyes opened, brown orbs locking onto hers.

"Oh, shut up," he retorted, rolling his eyes, and his hands loosened their grip slightly on her hips.

"Make me, Castellan," she quipped, playfully attempting to pull her leg off him. However, she found herself unable to move as he smoothly pulled her back onto his lap.

"What?" she questioned, her tone attempting to maintain composure as the awareness of his hands and the subtle pressure of his thumbs against her skin sent shivers down her spine.

"I’m shutting you up," he smirked, the mischievous glint in his eyes promising mischief. Before she could react, he kissed her, it wasn’t harsh or rough but sweet catching her off guard. The initial startle gave way to a reciprocated passion as she found herself kissing him back, her hands instinctively wrapping around his neck.

In the hushed aftermath of their unexpected kiss, she pulled back, a stunned expression on her face. "What was that for?" she asked, her voice a breathless whisper that betrayed the lingering traces of their shared moment.

He leaned back, a smug smirk playing on his lips. "You talk too much, and I needed a way to shut you up," he replied, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint.

She rolled her eyes, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You have unconventional methods, Castellan."

"I'm a man of action," he quipped, his hands still lingering at her hips.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x you #luke pjo

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star-sim · 4 months

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crush ☆ sunghoon park

☆ non-idol! bf! sunghoon x fem! reader ☆ summary: you love to tease your cute boyfriend, sunghoon. ☆ genre: fluff, cute n sleepy n whipped sunghoon ☆ warning(s)? nope! just fluff ☆ word count: 0.9k words

It was late at night when Sunghoon Park was shaken awake.

“Hoonie, wake up!” his girlfriend, you, whisper-yelled, shaking him emphatically. “I need you to wake up!”

Half-asleep with disheveled hair and grogginess, Sunghoon shot up. His pale hand shot for yours, clutching it close.

“Di suhthih happeh (Did something happen)?” Sunghoon could barely pronounce his syllables. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced over at you. In the dark room, he could see your glassy eyes and perfect face- and goddamn was it perfect even in the absence of light.

“Yes!” you answered, squeezing his hand. “It’s really important!”

“Wha-” Sunghoon swiped another finger over his eyes, bringing a hand to grasp his silvery hair. “What happened?”

You slithered an arm around his waist, throwing a leg over his hips and pushing him back down onto the pillows so that you were snuggled right up against him. Sunghoon was too tired to question it, letting out a yawn. You stayed in a cuddled-up position for a few moments, before you giggled.

“I have a crush on someone.”

“What?!”

Sunghoon was wide awake now. He whipped his head over to yours against the pillows. You two lied like that, staring into each other’s eyes. You giggled again.

“Y-You have a crush on someone?” Sunghoon was appalled. You were his. How could you like someone else when he was right there?

Your lips wore a wide smile. “Shhh, you can’t tell anyone.”

“What are you talking about?!” Sunghoon vehemently asked, bringing his hands up to clutch your face. His fingers pressed onto your smiling cheeks, frowning at the way you looked so happy.

You chuckled, leaning in to kiss Sunghoon's jaw.

“I’ll kill him,” Sunghoon muttered.

“You’ll what?”

Sunghoon frown deepened.

He pulled away, turning his back to you.

“I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch,” the man grumbled.

You shared a moment of silence.

Sunghoon Park couldn’t believe that his girlfriend had a crush on someone! And he didn’t know about it! At the same time, he couldn’t help but feel the dejection that came from the other side of the bed.

He sighed.

“Who is it?”

You didn’t respond.

Sunghoon sighed louder this time, turning back to you.

“Who’s your crush?”

A mischievous smile grew on your face, before you clung onto him again.

“It’s a guy,” you began, fingers coming up to play with Sunghoon's soft, white hair. “He has white hair.”

“Why would anyone have white hair?” Sunghoon murmured to himself, but not quiet enough to go unheard by you.

“And he’s really dumb,” you continued, watching the way Sunghoon seemed to perk up at that description. “But he’s handsome.” He deflated.

Sunghoon scowled.

You glanced over to him. With two fingers, you walked up his chest slowly, stopping at his chin.

“What’s his name?”

“Hmmm,” you pretended to think.

Your boyfriend filled his cheeks with air, frowning with impatience. "Can I just have a hint? Like a letter?" The desperation in his voice only made you want to tease him more.

You bit back a laugh, “I can’t tell you. You’ll know who immediately.”

Sunghoon scoffed, before asking, “Do I know him?”

“Yeeeaahh,” you drew out your syllable. “You know him reealllyy well.”

“As if I’d know a loser like him.”

You tapped Sunghoon's chin with the tips of your fingers, before softly caressing his cheeks. He leaned into your touch, inhaling your sweet scent.

“He has a mole on his eyelid,” you brushed your fingers over his eyes, connecting it up to his eyebrow, “And cute eyebrows.”

“He must be ugly.”

You tapped his brow-bone gently. “Not quite. I sleep with him sometimes.”

Sunghoon jolted back up at those words. He balled his hands into fists.

“Who is it?” he grabbed your shoulders, shaking you. You watched the way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. “Who do you like?”

You stifled a laugh. You took your time answering.

“But what if you tell someone?” you innocently cocked your head. “How can I trust you?”

Sunghoon squeezed your shoulder. “I won’t tell anyone!”

He looked at you with wide and dark eyes. He was completely serious.

“Pinky promise?” you extended your finger. Sunghoon linked his pinky with yours immediately, even going as far as to ‘lock’ the promise in. You motioned for him to come closer to you, cupping your hands around his ears.

Sunghoon's heart pounded in his chest. How dare some guy come out of nowhere and take his girlfriend?

“His name is Sunghoon Park,” you whispered.

Sunghoon's heart dropped to his stomach. “He sounds like a bastard.”

You blinked at him and shook your head, before flopping back into bed, giggling.

“Wh– Why are you laughing?!” Sunghoon gently hit your leg that was under the blanket. Your fit of giggles and laughter didn’t die down until a few minutes later. His cheeks burned with both embarrassment and irritation. When you finally stopped laughing, Sunghoon looked at you seriously. “Are you going to tell me more about this ‘Sunghoon Park’ guy?”

“No.”

“Wha–”

“Good night!”

After a few pouty kisses, grumbles to himself, and twenty minutes, Sunghoon finally shot up from bed once again.

His cheeks were bright pink. His heart was racing, and he felt jittery.

“W-Wait!” he nearly yelled. “You have a crush on… me?”

“Mhm.”

“As in…. You like-like me?” You hummed. Sunghoon gasped, clasping a hand over his mouth. “Oh gosh! Oh my! Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

“I’m already your girlfriend.”

“Oh.”

“Dumbass.”

“Hey!”

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #enhypen imagines #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon imagines #star-sim

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faexoxoxoxo · 3 months

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My Love Will Never Die...

Pairing: vampire! geto suguru x fem! reader

Summary: your father was a good man, gullible yes, but still good, so when you receive a letter telling you of his imprisonment, you're left with no choice but to make your way to the Lord's castle, hoping you'd convince him to release your father in exchange for the little gold you have to offer. Pity that's not enough for him...

Warnings: 18+, dubconish, smuttt, breeding, blood drinking...

Sharp wind bites at your skin, carrying with it the promise of frost and cold. Your thin cloak barely shields you against the chill, leaving you shuddering. You had nothing in your heart but hope, hope that your father was alive, hope that his captor would show a shred of mercy and agree to set him free in exchange for what little gold you had to offer.

The woods appeared to have a life of their own, some trees reaching tall while others thick and tangled down below, mist growing thicker as you rode deeper and deeper into the forest, causing your sight to fluctuate between clear and blurry. An eternity seemed to pass before the dense trees gave way, fog lessening to reveal a clearing, and there it was at the center.

The castle stood tall, an ominous, imposing presence. Its twisted spires and sharp black points against the sky as if to pierce the heavens themselves. People in your villagers had long whispered tales of the horrors that lurked within the castle's walls, of the elusive Lords and Ladies that called its dark halls their home.

“...eight, nine, ten…”

Step by step, you counted, trying to push away the fear that threatened to consume you. Dismounting from your trusty steed, pulling its lead rope you slowly nearing the castle gates, the sound of dry leaves crunching underfoot, doing little to ease your already tense nerves.

“Welcome Madam, Master Geto has been expecting you.”

One of the guards standing by the gates greeted, seeing your approaching figure, tone calm and respectful as he opened the large gates, and taking the reins of your horse, gesturing to his companion to take you inside the castle grounds.

Following behind the guard, you couldn't shake off the dread creeping into your bones. He was expecting you? Why? How could this Master Geto have been so certain you would come for your father's aid? And the way that guard spoke as though you were a person of great importance, when you were merely the daughter of a poor village healer…

It was usually dark inside, with only a handful of burning torches lighting your way, the sound of your shoes clanking against the dark marble floor echoed through the stately halls. The elegant surroundings only added to your unease, ornate tapestries and massive statues decorating the area, one sculpture in particular standing out amongst the rest, a black dragon with haunting purple eyes, fangs bared, wings spread wide, as though ready to leap from its pedestal and tear you apart. Subconsciously, you draw your cloak closer, wishing to make yourself invisible.

Reaching a set of grand double doors, the guard in front of you halted. He was nervous. You noticed a slight shift in the burly man's demeanour as he knocked on the door once, twice, and no more. Moments of silence followed before a response finally came from the other side.

“Send her in, Makoto”

The voice was deep and commanding, making you feel small despite not having yet seemed the person it belonged to. The guard, Makoto, instantly opened the doors, ushering you inside, before closing the doors behind you with a deafening thud, causing you to flinch, the reaction earning a chuckle from the man sitting in the room.

“Timid little thing, aren't you?”

“I...I…”

You stood for a moment, unsure of how to respond, taking in your surroundings: shelves lined with more books, tomes and scrolls than you could imagine, and him seated beside the fireplace in a leather armchair clad in the finest black robes, the man you could only assume was the Master of the castle, Lord Geto.

He was not what you imagined, not that there was much to imagine with how little anyone knew of him, but you definitely did not anticipate him possessing a face so handsome even the finest craftsmen couldn't sculpt, raven locks loose and inviting as if waiting for someone to run their hands through it.

But it was his eyes, unlike any you'd ever gazed upon in your life, a deep, haunting violet much like the dragon state; they pierced straight into your soul, making your breath hitch.

“Sit.” He gestures to the chair beside him, a soft smile tugging on his lips watching you do as he says.

“L...Lord Geto…” You begin feeling your heartbeat pick up he made you so nervous... How could someone look so perfect and his voice...it was so smooth and soothing like a sirens song...

“Suguru” he looks at you frowning, the smile now gone, as though you gravely offended him. “You just call me Suguru.”

You froze for a second. He wanted you to call him Suguru. Was that his name? Why? Why? So many questions ran through your mind, but you knew now wasn't the time. “As you wish...Suguru.” It sounded so strange his name on your tongue, but seeing his smile return, you continued, “I received your letter. My father... he's old and sick...I'm sorry, I will pay for his wrongdoings...” Taking out the worn-out bag, you show him the few gold coins inside. This was meant to be your dowry, but now the dreams of ever finding a husband, having children, or a home of your own seemed so far …

“Hmm…” he hums as if sympathetic to your case, but his next words crushed any previous hopes you had. “I'm afraid gold won't make up for the damages your father caused.”

“Then...then what must I do?”

“Perhaps…” There's a glimmer of wickedness in his eyes now as he looks at you. “You could take his place?”

“M...me?” You gasp at his sudden offer “B...but what use could I possibly have...can't you just accept the gold..please…” you pleaded but that only seemed to fuel whatever desire he had of keeping you in place of your father.

“I'm sure we can find something for you to do…” he muses, violet eyes hungrily roaming your body freely, making you squirm in your seat. “Of course I can always have your father hanged for thievery; as you said, he's old, with little ability, no use keeping deadweight alive…”

“No !” You protest, “No, please, I...I'll stay !” There was no way you could stand by and let your father die, not when there was a chance to save him, even if it meant sacrificing yourself…

“Good girl.” Suguru pats your head, his smile widening. You could've sworn you saw a flash of something sharp, fangs? No, that's impossible. Your tired mind was simply playing tricks on you…

~~~

True to his word, Suguru released your father from the dungeons the next morrow. You'd been allowed a brief goodbye before he was sent away, courtesy of the Lord.

After that, you expected to be thrown into the damp cells or at best given a room in the servants quarters; not that there was anything to complain about; these were the terms of your father's life in exchange for you spending yours in captivity. However, to your surprise, you had been given a room in the west wing of the castle, right besides Suguru's.

“You need to stay close to serve me,” he chuckled when asked for the reason. Cold hands patted your head, ruffling your hair in the process. He really seemed to like doing that.

Suguru was a strange captor, never asking you to do harsh tasks; quite the contrary, he was quick to grow agitated whenever you suggested doing anything related to household chores, working in the gardens, cooking meals, or tending to the horses with other servants...

“How many times must I repeat myself? Your only task is serving me.”

But you never want me to do anything! You bite your lips every time, silently screaming in your mind. Serving the Lord was boring. All he asked of you during the day was to sit in his office as he finished the never-ending amount of paperwork on his desk. Occasionally, he'd ask you to fetch him his special wine, and that was it.

Despite his at times odd behaviors, you found Suguru to be charming? others might label you as debauched for finding the man who threatened to kill your father, and now served as your captor attractive, but strangely, you couldn't bring yourself to care, how could anyone be expected to remain impervious when facing someone so...alluring.

To make matters worse, he was so much more than a pretty face. He was gentle and kind; there was the casual teasing and laughing whenever he noticed you getting flustered due to his words, and even that made your heart flip-flop...

It was so easy to get lost in him, but you tried the best to nib the blooming affections at the bud, constantly reminding yourself of the position you had. There was no way Lord Geto Suguru would return your feelings; he was a highborn lord who'd go on to marry a purebred lady of upper-class society. You were a prisoner, lowborn, and insignificant compared to him...

For what felt like a year, you continued living the same daily routine: waking up, getting dressed, drawing Suguru his morning bath, helping him dress, never leaving his side, letting him nuzzle into the crook of your neck. “It calms me,” he claimed, something you never questioned, and as the days went by, you began feeling more and more like a pampered house pet than a prisoner serving their sentence, but then you started to grow homesick missing your father and the garden of herbs you tended to…

~~~

“Suguru” you said one night as you both sat by the fireplace, having finally worked up the courage to ask him, "I...I was thinking, Would it be alright if I visited my father? Not for long, of course, just a few days…I promise I'll return; my village is close by, I just w—”

Suguru's wine glass shattered in his hands, expression growing cold. You flinched at the sound, eyes widening at the sight of blood dripping down his finger. What was happening? You had never seen him react like this before. Sure, there was sternness or chiding whenever you accidentally scalded yourself trying to bake something, but this was completely new... and it terrified you.

“Leave? You wish to leave me?” Suguru rose from the chair, his expression a mixture of anger and disbelief. “I thought you'd just need time to accept me,” he whispered, violet eyes glimmering dangerously as he approached you, and you're not sure if you heard him right. Accept him? What did he mean? You swallowed nervously as he inches closer, your back hitting the smooth wall, his arms on your sides trapping you in place.

“Sugure...” You want to beg, to tell him you regret asking to go home, to promise you'll never ask again. But all that comes out is a broken sob as you feel him dig his fingers into your hips to keep you from moving out of his hold.

His eyes softened. "No, no, hush now...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…” hands trailing to your face, gently wiping the tears under your eyes. “Always forget how delicate your kind can be...” he sighs, resting his forehead against yours.

You don’t move. Thoughts whirling as you replayed his words in your head. Your kind, your kind, your kind, your kind. You knew you heard him right; he'd said it, but what did that even mean? Suguru was like you, wasn't he? He was human...

He was cold, too cold, always cold…

He didn't eat, always making some sort of excuse to skip meals…but he loved to drink…the special wine he loved, it was red and smelled metallic like…like…blood …

“Nosferatu.” You mumble knowingly, looking into his violet eye.

Every little child had been told the tales of his kind. blood sucking creatures of the night who feasted on mankind, vampires, and Suguru was one of them. The revolution was too much; you could feel yourself losing air, and then you fainted in his arms.

~~~

You wake this time in something soft and velvety. Seeing the faintest flicker of candlelight around as you force your eyes to open. your neck hurts, you feel strange, warm, too warm this wasn't your room; it was…

“You're awake.”

His. Your mind replays the events before Suguru wasn't human; he was a monster, something straight out of the scary bedtime stories your grandmama would tell you...

“Don't hurt me !” You try to back away, to break free of his hold, tears streaming down your face. This wasn't how you envisioned your life ending.

No, no, no, no…

“I won't,” he tries to assure, but you can feel his hands tighten around your waist. His cold lips stop against your pulse point as he licks up and down your neck. “You're mine, my fated, I couldn't hurt you even if I wanted to…”

Fated? What in the world was that? You open your mouth, wanting to scream for help, but all that comes out is a helpless moan... You feel so week, your body was on fire. You needed something, anything, to make it go away....

“If only you knew how painful it was.” His voice is a drug, intoxicating, but if you take too much, you'll die. Large hands gently rub your thighs, making you shake. “Denying myself of claiming you when I first set eyes on you...so fucking hard, but then you say you want to go back...” he laughs, not the usually warm ones that make your heart flutter. No, this one was cold. Sending shivers down your spine...

“No more waiting”

You let out a squeak as he pushes you into the mattress, moving himself to face you now. Violet eyes shining with hunger, and desire...

“Suguru–” he slams his mouth on yours, fully intending on muffling whatever protests you have. His tongue was rough and cruel as he filled your mouth, only pulling away to rip your dress off, leaving you bare for him, hungry eyes taking in every little detail of your body as he strips himself off his dark robes. Why was he so beautiful ? His face, his toned muscles, his... oh, so big, there's no way that'll fit. You want to run and hide, shrink into nothing so he can't find you...

“my perfect love” he coos lips again on your neck slowly trailing kisses, down to body until he's reached the place you no man has ever seen. you want to squeeze your thighs shut to tell him not to look, but you can't, not with the firm grip he has on you legs...

“This is mine,” he takes a long lick, burying his nose into your wetness, inhaling your smell. “My pussy,” he groans into you, “mine to breed.” His long fingers move now, rubbing against your bundle of nerves as he greedily laps at your juices, this... this was what you needed to stop the burning in your core. You feel yourself shake, hips rocking into Suguru's face, hands making their way to his scalp, pulling him closer. You need it, need more, so close...then you fall over the edge; too much, too much, and he's drinking it all up...

Pulling away, he gives you a mischievous grin showing off his fangs, as he comes back up to kiss your lips so you can taste yourself on his tongue, rocking his hips so you can feel how hard he is, how much you turn him on...

“Please, please, Suguru, please...” You're not sure what you're begging for, mind too foggy to comprehend anything. All your senses consumed by Suguru, his touch, his smell, you want him to make the burning ache go away...

“My sweet love,” he coos, kissing your forehead, hips still rutting into your stomach, “we'll be forever bound after this, as it was always meant to be...” he grins, love drunk eyes focused on you a feral gleam in them, and for a split second, the logical part of your mind returns, but it was too late now...He'd wrapped your legs around his waist one hand holding on to yours and the other moving down to gide himself into your virgin cunt.

You screamed at the foreign feeling, clawing at his back, he was tearing you open, filling your insides, it hurt so bad you didn't want it anymore...

“Shhhh you can take it,” he kisses you again, “my good girl” You feel him move gentle and slow, but the moment he hears you moan, he takes it as a sign to fuck you hard. It makes your head spin. He's so, so deep, you can feel him hitting all the right spots inside, making you see stars...

“Thought about breaking your legs when you said you wanted to leave,” Suguru growls into your neck, his sharp teeth scraping the bruised skin he'd bitten during your unconscious state. “But this is better,” you gasp as his pace becomes more brutal, deeper and deeper, giving you the feeling that the head of his cock would poke through your stomach. “You'll be my good girl from now on, won't you?” he looks at you, the edge of his mouth quirking into a sly smirk as if daring you to challenge him.

“Yes, yes...” you nod, the feeling of his fingers pushing on your already sensitive clit making you cum for the second time, toes curling as you cling on to Suguru, who moans at the feeling of your pussy walls fluttering around him sucking at him harder. "You'll look so perfect swollen with my seed,” his hands holding yours in a painful grip, thrusts growing sloppy and untimed, “Our own family, f–fuck... you'll never think about leaving me...”

No…no…no push him off…push him off

A tiny voice in your heart shrieked, knowing the consequences of what would happen if this beast successfully fucked his child into you. Any chance of escape gone, you'd forever be a prisoner to him…

But it was so hard to act, mind dazed, and vision blurry with fresh tears, tangled into Suguru's arms, whimpering as you felt him fill you up, rope after rope of his thick cum coating your inside, fangs sinking into your neck as you gush around him.

“My pretty love," he purrs, still inside you, “My always and forever.” blood coated lips met yours gentler than before, almost making you melt, thinking maybe just maybe being Suguru's wouldn't be so bad...

A/N - trying to get back into writing longer fics and not just drabbles or headcanons so hope this turned out well...I did a alpha!gojo hc before and vamp!geto now next I'm thinking ghost!Nanami mayhaps...

My ask box is always open if anyone wants to talk (≧ω≦) fr tho come talk to me babes I love to hear from ya'll

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated <3

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plutoswritingplanet · 8 months

Note

could you do a request of Buggy (opla) falling for Luffy’s older sister? (Adopted or blood relation, doesn’t matter) like he takes her hostage but she doesn’t seem to mind. She know she can escape at any time, but keep annoying buggy to a point where… he doesn’t see her as a hostage anymore, more like treasure? And she starts to maybe feel something for the clown?

You Started It (Buggy The Clown x Reader)

a/n: how did i know the first request will be about the clown lmao. i took some liberties when writing this but i hope you still like it <3

Warnings: Buggy Being Kind Of An Asshole, Captivity, Some Suggestive Themes

Summary: Poking the bear isn't the wisest things you could be doing in your particular situation.

Part 2.

You've memorized every nook and cranny of your shoes. The time you've spent in containment has really opened your eyes, when it comes to how little you actually knew about the clothes you were wearing. For example, your right shoe was slightly bigger, molded by your foot. You must be putting more weight onto your right leg, when standing. The hem of your shorts is made with a very close cross stitch, making them slightly sturdier and thicker. Right where the material folds, just above your knee, you've managed to pick out a small hole, the strings of abused material hung sadly and tickled your skin.

There wasn't really much to do, while being kept in a cage, in the backstage of a circus which belonged to the infamous Buggy the Clown. Well, except studying the stains on your shoes and waiting for the Captain to visit you, which he did quite frequently.

"Entertainment purposes" is the reason he declared, when you've asked him why on earth is he keeping you locked up in a hanging cage. But you weren't so easily fooled. You knew from the start, that the role he has envisioned for you to play, was that of a Hostage and Bait. So, inevitably, when your younger brother and his merry band of misfits come to save you, he'd be able to even out the score. Which was a shitty plan, in your opinion.

They've kicked his ass before, they can do it once again.

So, that's why you're here, feet dangling above the floor, as you hum to yourself. Anything to pass the time. That is, until you hear the door to the backstage open, and a familiar tone of voice calls out.

"Hostage!"

Really, how did he even expect you to stay in the dark about his plan, while calling you like this? The man was clearly insane.

Buggy the Clown stands before you, makeup disheveled as always, with his Captain's hat abandoned in favor of a striped bandana. He's excited, which is evident, by the way he can't seem to stop moving, jumping from one leg to the other, hands fidgeting at his sides.

"How are you feeling, my dear Hostage?" he asks with fake concern, and just as your mouth opens to answer, he interrupts "Ah, never mind that, I don't care."

You don't even try to hide the annoyed expression on your face.

"You can sing" he states matter-of-factly, pointing a finger right at you.

"Barely."

"Can you dance though?"

"Barely as well."

He hums in thought, pacing the floor in front of your cage. Finally, he stops, looking at you with his head tilted to the side. His eyes rake over your body, and it brings a sudden wave of discomfort to your bones.

"You'll be performing in our next act."

Again, his tone leaves no space for an argument. Still, you were never an agreeable person, smiles were more of your brother's thing. So, you straighten out as much as the cage allows you and cross your arms in front of your chest.

"Do whatever you like, my brother will get me out of here before you can say Welcome to my big show".

"Welcome to my big show" he says immediately, then, raises his finger, as if he's waiting for the entire crew of Strawhats to fall from the sky.

They don't, obviously, and he gives you a pointed look, to which you respond with a roll of your eyes.

"Besides" he turns around and opens one of the chests laid out on the table "Aren't you a bit old to dote on your younger brother so much?"

The question genuinely offends you, and as he pulls out another bandana, this one red, covered entirely with big white polka dots, your eyes glimmer with venom.

"Aren't you a bit old to play dress up?"

He turns in a blink of an eye, and with terror mixed with disgust you watch his hands detach from his body, slamming into the cage. The force of impact sends it flying right into the nearby wall, the back of your head smacks against the metal bars. The swinging of the cage coupled with the stars erupting before your eyelids from the impact make you feel dizzy.

Then, Buggy takes a step towards the cage, connecting his hands with the rest of his body, and your prison stops swinging in an instant.

"I should kill you for that" he says lowly, his blue eyes bearing into your face.

"You started it" you choke out an accusation, trying very hard not to vomit.

He stays completely quiet, just watching you for a long while, his hands slowly loose tension. Then, as if his rage has entirely dissolved, he smiles, teeth completely exposed, as his cheeks crease. God, you'd do such a better job at his make-up, given the chance.

"You're funny, Hostage" he shakes his head, and suddenly, for some unknown reason, it downs upon you, just how close to you, he's standing.

"Sing for me some more" he says.

And then, his hands push back with sufficient force to send your cage flying again. You groan at the movement, another wave of nausea almost making you loose your breakfast. When you finally have the perfect, biting comeback, he's already gone, the door slamming after him. You're alone again.

A sigh escapes your lips, as you press your forehead to the cold metal of the cage. You've already memorized all the details of your own clothes, and the room was too dark to see anything more. So, you start observing the cage. The way the light shifts up and down on the bars, the way the brown paint seems to peel away under your thighs. Then, you look up, towards the place where all the bars have been stuck together.

And then your eyebrows furrow. Because just above the ceiling of the cage, you can see something poking out. Something roughly the size of a fist and colored a pale, fleshy color. You raise yourself slightly in your seat, to get a better look, and immediately regret doing so.

It's an ear. His ear. Detached and placed right on top of the cage. That's how he knows about your singing, the bastard.

An idea brews in your brain, mischief spilling out of your growing smirk. You pull yourself up, until you can reach the top of the cage. Your arm is just slender enough to slip past the bars, and your fingers brush against the cold flesh of the ear. Before Buggy, wherever he is, can react, you snatch the ear from the top of the cage, keeping a tight grip, as it starts to jump in your hand.

Then, you take a deep breath, place the ear close to your lips… And give the most blood-curling, shrill scream you could muster.

Immediately, you hear a string of curses coming your way, and a second later Buggy bursts into the room, a murderous expression on his face. You open your hand, and the ear nearly bursts out of your fingers, flying back to it's owner like some sort of deformed beetle. The sight, for some reason, is so incredibly funny, you can't help but choke out a little giggle. Which soon becomes a quite big giggle, which in turn morphs into a full blown laughter.

You can't see the Captain through the tears of laughter forming in your eyes, so when he knocks on the metal bars of your cage, you nearly choke from surprise. He's looking at you strangely. Not quite as angry as before, but there is something else lurking behind his eyes. As if he's enveloped deeply in his thoughts, but at the same time completely present and focused on you. Your laughter dies down in an instantly, and you reach up to wipe your tears, clearing your throat awkwardly.

"I've captured myself a comedian, huh?" the man leans closer to the bars of the cage, placing his forehead against them and looking at you from below "You trying to take my place as the funniest person in the circus? Hm, Hostage?"

You risk a smirk, leaning down towards him. He watches your movements with a curious expression, eyes darting all over your face.

"Yeah" you whisper "So, you better watch your back."

At that, he smiles one of his brilliantly wide smiles. This one however, seems the most honest out of every one you've seen up to this point. You try not to linger too much at the way his eyes seem to shine in the dimly lit room. Or how the stubble on his face makes his features sharper. Or even on the way his arms flex as he leans against the cage. And definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, you're not focusing on the fact, that he's standing nestled right between your dangling legs.

So, before your brain conjures up any unwanted ideas, you clear your throat again and straighten up. Buggy notices the shift in your posture, but doesn't move, instead it seems as if a lightbulb has literally appeared beside his head. Desperate to change the subject, which hasn't been even brought up yet, you wave your hand in the general direction of his ear.

"Your ability is pretty useful" you try to sound as neutral, as humanly possible.

"Oh?" he tilts his head back and gives you a suspicious look.

"Yeah, that eavesdropping thing was really cool… And slightly disgusting" your nose scrunches "But mostly cool."

He hums low in his throat, his hands slowly letting go of your cage. Still, he remains standing between your legs, your knee brushing against his prominent hip bones.

"Are there" you swallow "Any limits to this ability?"

Now, his eyebrows jump straight under his bandana, and you definitely do not like the slow smirk filling his features.

"I mean, like, can you detach your nose? Or um… I don't know, your fingernails?"

Finally he steps back, stretching his arms to the side, as if he's giving you a show, and in a way, he does. There are muscles, hidden under those circus clothes. His exposed forearms are nicely shaped, with thick veins running the length of them. You really don't mean to ogle the man, but fuck, he is handsome. In an "insane-sadistic-clown-who-is-also-a-pirate-for-some-reason" way.

"I can detach every single part of my body with no effort" he says, his smile growing.

Before you could really think about your actions, your gaze falls downward, right to his belt keeping his trousers up. Mortified, that your brain would even go there, you tear your eyes up, and with a horrified expression, look upon a face full of excitement.

Then, Buggy raises his hands to his heart, feigning a scandalized expression, which would've been funny, if you weren't currently blushing in the lovely shade of a ripe beetroot.

"I'm sorry… that's not… I didn't" your words come out a jumbled mess, and Buggy wheezes out a laugh.

"Oh would you look at that" he puts his hands behind his back, as he slowly starts to stalk towards your confinement "You know, with how sheltered your little brother is, I didn't expect you to be such a dirty pervert."

You choke on air, arms flailing inside the cage, as you genuinely are at a loss for words, You can feel your face grow impossibly hot, the heat spreading all the way to the tops of your ears. The Clown still advances, until his face is pushed right between the bars of the cage, a smile on his lips and a glint in his eye. You don't know what to do with yourself, as the man continues to laugh at your outrage.

Finally, his right hand flies from behind his back and stops right above his head. Then, as if making a show specially for you out of his unusual abilities, he lets his pointer finger remove itself from the hand. Involuntarily, you make a face, and try to push yourself as far into the cage, as humanly possible. Which, given the size of your prison, does practically nothing. The finger aims straight at your nose and presses it with slightly more force, than a friendly "boop" would.

"You started it" he throws your own words back at you, and watches your dumbfounded expression with a smile and a giggle.

Finally, he steps back, all his body parts in place, and you can breathe again at last. Then, with a flourish, he bows down before the cage, before giving you a slightly unbalanced twirl. At that, you can't help but smile, almost fondly. He's not so bad, when he isn't actively trying to murder you and your friends.

"Anyways, get ready, your grand performance is in a week" he concludes, and you sigh deeply.

So he hasn't let this one go.

No matter. A week from now, you'll be out of this place. The thought fills you with joy, and strangely, with some sort of melancholy, which you have to jot down as nausea, just to protect your own mental health.

"Hostage" the man says, as a goodbye, bowing once again, this time with fewer theatrics, and begins to walk back towards the door. "Captain" you respond in kind, inclining your head slightly.

He stops in his tracks, back turned to you, before slowly, twisting his body, to look you in the face. He wants to say something, his mouth opens and closes, and anticipation floods your stomach. But then, his lips pull back into one more smile, more reserved, more private. Now, in this rare moment of tranquility, he looks truly handsome, and your heart jumps to your throat at the realization. He gives you one last look, shakes his head at the floor, and exits with a soft click of the door.

You're, once again, left alone with your mismatched shoes and the hole in your shorts. This time, however, your head is filled with tender thoughts, one that could keep you company, until another visit befalls you.

#buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #one piece x reader #one piece live action #my writing #answered #requested #thank you for leaving a request <3 <3

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mooshywrites · 4 months

Text

Making It Our Own

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Female!Tav

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - Kinda a continuation of my last fluff, slice of life kind of affair

Word Count - 3.1K

Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, fluff/soft dom Astarion, aftercare if you squint, multiple orgasms, biting because thats practically required with this man, overall straight degeneracy

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“How else will we make this place our own, my darling?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“Why in all the god’s names, would they have the staircase here?” Astarion wondered, exasperated.

You smiled softly, looking over the slightly rickety stairs before him. They were a little in the foreground of the room, awkwardly jutting out beside the selling desk.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, my love.” You responded, kissing his cheek sweetly.

”With the amount of hard-earned gold I spent on this place, you would think someone would have at least dusted before we moved in.” He complained, dragging a finger across the desk, holding up the collection of caked dirt.

You fought the urge to scoff at the thought of Astarion actually earning any amount of money, but you contained yourself knowing he did put a fair amount of effort into having this small shop be his own.

For the entire idea of Astarion running a shop starting as a halfhearted tease, you could hardly believe you were actually standing in the place now. It had taken a few months of odd jobs, even odder quests, and… well… yes, there was some thievery involved in getting enough coin to buy the little shop on the corner of the quietest part of Baldur’s Gate. It must have been a bakery, or perhaps a tiny bed and breakfast before the two of you, because it sported a surprisingly large kitchen in the back along with four midsize rooms upstairs. Of course, if it were any of those things, it must have long long not been occupied.

“I’m sure it won’t take long to make the place exactly what you want, Astarion.” You murmured, trying to be optimistic. You looked up at your pale elf, seeing his mouth in a tight line. His eyes peering accusingly at the grime and disrepair on the first floor. Luckily, from your investigating, the upstairs level seemed to fair a bit better.

”Darling, it will take half of a century to even make it look clean” Astarion chuckled, turning his attention back down onto you. “It may be a disaster, but I do suppose it is our disaster.”

”That’s the spirit.” You grinned up at him. “Where should we start then?”

Astarion shook her head decisively, “You can start upstairs. I won’t have your pretty little hands working yourself to the bone on this mess. Or dirtying your new dress.”

Your hands idly smoothed your skirt, fingers running over the delicate gold flowers expertly embroidered across the fabric. Astarion insisted he began practicing his sewing in preparation for the shop and your clothes, of course, were his first choice of material. The simple green gown you were wearing today was covered in dainty flowering vines.

“Perhaps you’re right,” you sighed. “I can think of much better ways to ruin one of your projects than covering it in dirt.” You added, gesturing to the dress.

Astarion leaned back on the desk casually, his eyebrows raising, “What possible ways could you be talking about, pet?” He asked, his voice too sickly sweet and innocent to be anything other than a thinly veiled tease.

Well… two could play that game. You gave him a small smile, stepping forward to place your hands on his chest. You didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened slightly at the movement.

“I just mean that if your hard work is to be dirtied, it better be worth it.” You shrugged.

Astarion couldn’t help but smirk, knowing your innocent attitude was as much of an act as his own. His face inched closer, voice only above a whisper now, “I can think of a few ways that would be more worth your time, love.”

“And those would be?” You almost didn’t recognize your own voice, practically breathless even with only the hint of his words.

”Oh, pet. I think you already know.” He practically purred. “How else will we make this place our own?”

You barely had time to respond before the words were swallowed by Astarion’s searing kiss. His lips molded against your own, coaxing a small muffled moan from your chest. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Your own arms wound around his neck, fingertips coming up to lace their way into his curly white locks.

”I’m afraid your beautiful dress may be sullied, yet,” Astarion murmured, pulling back for a moment, “There isn’t a surface here that is suitable enough for you to lay upon.”

”’Lay upon?’ Why would I need to do that?” You whispered, feigning ignorance.

Astarion’s hands fell to just below your butt before suddenly hooking your legs up and around him. You don’t even have time to chastise him before you’re spun around and placed on the dust covered desk.

”Astarion, my dress-!” You squeaked.

His eyes rolled in response, his hands sliding up the sides of your dress. “For god’s sake, darling, I’ll make you a new one.”

He leaned in once more, this time, pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw, effectively silencing your argument. You tilted your head back, giving him better access to the crook of your neck. You sucked in a shaky breath as you felt the points of his fangs grazing feather light across the sensitive skin, goosebumps erupting on your skin and heat settling in your lower stomach. You could practically feel him smile against you at your reaction, always proud to make you putty between his hands.

His lips and teeth continued to dance down your neck, pausing for a moment on the sweet spot just above your collarbone. The movement completely distracts you from how his hands continue to sneak their way up your legs.

That is, until, you felt his fingertips drag slowly against the clothed heat between your legs.

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes meeting Astarion’s as he lifted his gaze, smirking. ”Why darling,” he purred. “Whatever did I do to deserve this silence?”

You threw him a half-hearted glare, not trusting your voice to deliver a retort in case it proved the point he was already trying to make. Instead, you pulled his face towards your own, locking him into a passionate kiss. You earned a particularly delicious groan as you gently dragged your tongue along his lower lip, silently prodding for access.

He graciously allowed your tongue in, exploring with his own. His fingers worked in tandem with his tongue, tracing feather light figure eights, seeming to be avoiding where you needed him most purposefully.

You whined into the kiss, causing the vampire to chuckle darkly, “What’s the matter, pet? Pained are we?” He teased.

”Just… touch me.” You begged, not at all embarrassed at how quickly you became desperate for him.

Luckily, the plea’s seemed to have the desired effect, a content sigh escaping you as cold finger moved your panties aside and pressed against your cunt.

”My, my.” He whispered, lips moving to catch the shell of your ear in a gentle bite. “It didn’t take long at all for you to be practically weeping for me.”

All you could do was whine as his middle finger dipped shallowly into your heat. He was right, of course, it took practically no time for him to bring you to tears with his fingers, your core clenching at just the thought of what he could do with those sinful hands.

You leaned back just enough to get a better view of him, his hair a mess from your own hands, his lips plump from your bruising kiss, his pointed gaze a shade darker than usual as he eyed you hungrily. Your chest rose and fell shakily, taking in the sight before you.

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” You whispered, barely even aware the words had escaped your own thoughts.

His eyes blinked in surprise before a warm smile fell across his face, leaning in to press a surprisingly innocent kiss upon your nose. “Aren’t I just?”

You could have guessed that would have been his reaction, your elf hiding behind a veil of humor anytime he was uncomfortable with a compliment or praise. I mean, showing emotions is difficult, isn’t it? Someday, you would have to find a way to make him take the compliment. But how? Bondage? A maid outfit? Constant teasing?

Your slightly crazed wandering thoughts were harshly interrupted as you felt Astarion’s finger sank deeper within you, his thumb brushing across the sensitive nub right above. Your yelp quickly transformed into a moan as his thumb began dancing in simple short circles, igniting the flame in your stomach to burn even brighter.

”Darling, you know how it hurts me so when you aren’t paying attention to me,” He prodded, voice thick with need and his ever present pout. “What could you be thinking about other than how well your dripping cunt takes my fingers.”

”N-Nothing,” you started, a moan interrupting your sentence as his finger began to pull in and out teasingly slow. “I was thinking about how to keep you from letting compliments roll off of you. Maybe it will take this-“

You brought up your hand to trace a fingertip along the ever growing bulge in his pants. Though he tried to hide it, you were very aware of how his brows drew forward, the way his mouth parted in a heavy breath.

“I assure you, it will take much more than that to entertain any of your praise.” He retorted.

“And how much more would that be?” You replied confidentially, riding the high of the reaction you were able to pull from him.

”Hmm,” he pondered, even having the audacity to look to the side as if in thought, all while his fingers continued their magic below him. His act gave way to a devilish smile as his focus returned to you.

”One orgasm, one compliment.”

”W-what?“ You squeaked, feeling your cheeks begin to redden immediately.

His finger curled deliciously forward, pressing against a point that had your mind quickly fogging over with lust. “You heard me, darling. For every orgasm I drag out of you, I will graciously accept one compliment.”

You couldn’t even begin to come up with a retort, your cunt giving every thought away as it squeezed hungrily around the pale elf’s single finger.

”Ill take that as a resounding yes.” He murmured, clearly proud of himself.

He slipped another finger in, expertly pumping them into you. His other hand reached up, pulling the top of your dress down in a quick tug. The cold air and the desire in the air had them hardening almost painfully. The man before you didn’t miss this development at all, mouth coming forward to nip at your breast playfully. His lips then closed around the hardened nipple, tongue swirling around it slowly. You could’ve drawn blood from how hard you were biting your lip, trying not to let your moans fill the small room.

It didn't take long for the vampire to return the affection to the other, his hand kneading the soft skin his mouth had just left. With his hands, his mouth, the slick sounds your own body was making, the coil below your stomach already felt wound too tight.

You felt the white hot burn at your lower breast, the pain of Astarion’s teeth mixing deliciously with the way the rough pad of his thumb presses hard against your clit. “Gods, Astarion.” You managed to get out, your hips beginning to rock helplessly against his hand.

”Too much, pet?” He replied simply against your skin, licking at the pinpricks of blood left behind by his teeth.

You shook your head furiously, the burn in your stomach becoming more demanding, your breaths uneven and strained. “P-please… please more.”

Astarion growled darkly, his hand moving faster, his mouth returning to your skin. The coil winds tighter, your moans falling into incoherent begs and whines. Astarion, sensing your oncoming high, deftly slips another finger into your folds.

Your vision pales as you cry out, muscles tensing while your orgasm crashes into you. Heat courses through your veins, arousal riding its course as the pale elf’s sinful mouth eases you through it. By the time you’ve regained your perception of which way is up, Astarion is smirking at you, accomplished haughtiness written across his face.

”I believe you’ve earned one compliment, my dearest. Make it count.”

”That was… You are,” You responded breathlessly, thoughts not quite forming correctly in your orgasm ridden brain. “You are amazing, Astarion.”

The man left out a soft chuckle, landing a kiss on your forehead. “Not the most impressive compliment I’ve ever received, but a deal is is a deal. Thank you, my pet.”

Realization crashed onto you. Did I just use my compliment to say something as useless as… that?

”No! No, that wasn’t my compliment, I deserve another go.” You pouted.

”Aht aht ah, we said ‘one orgasm,one compliment’. You can’t expect me to bend the rules for such a clearly made deal.”

“You can’t be serious! You know you can’t hold me to anything I say after coming down from something like that!.” You argued, not feeling ready to give up the fight quite yet.

”Honestly, darling, I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss! There’s a simple way to remedy this.” He said, a knowing smile adorning him.

”And what is that?” You replied, blankly.

Before you could guess his movements. His hands deftly ripped the thin fabric of your panties and reached to pull you flush against his bulge. ”You have another orgasm, of course. What was it you wanted? ‘another go’?”

The desire you had just released from your body hit you again, tenfold. Your own fingers began to work at the ties of his breeches.

”Slowly, darling.” Astarion chastises half heartedly. “We have all the time in the world.”

You knew his words were empty, you could tell by the way his jaw was clenched, pupils blown out with lust that he was as desperate for this as you were. You finally loosen the tie enough to pull the fabric down, releasing his erection to hit his stomach with a small slap.

Astarion let out a strained groan as you wrapped your hand around the length, your thumb swiping across the bead of precome leaking from the delicate slit. You looked up at him, taking in his reactions, greedily. His breaths came in labored heaves, hands gripping your sides as if it were his only anchor to reality.

”Now, now, no teasing, pet.” He tried to retain the cool and confident tone in his voice, but his words were rasped, an octave lower than usual.

You gave him an innocent smile, placing a quick kiss before whispering against his lips, “Then take me, love.”

It’s as if you have broken some sort of invisible chain holding him back. He kisses you harshly, teeth catching at your bottom lip. He adjusts your sitting position, hands pushing your thighs apart to give you access.

He pulls away, looking down at you bared before him, though he could never put the thoughts into words in this moment, you look absolutely ethereal. The ripped clothes, messy hair, big doe eyes looking up at him; he was absolutely undone.

His hips pushed forward, his member dragging through the wetness in between your legs. A strained groan erupts from his parted lips, eyebrows drawing close together, “Gods, darling… you’re perfect.”

You let out your own whine, hips greedily pushing forward, desperate for the friction or Astarion’s cock against your clit. He leans forehead to rest against your own, finally, finally, pushing into your awaiting cunt.

It finds no resistance as it thrusts to the hilt, the dew from your previous orgasm aiding its path. The room is almost completely silent, the both of you reveling in the feeling of the delightful stretch his body imposes upon you.

After a few moments, his darkened voice cuts through, “Please, darling. I must move.”

You nod wordlessly, craving the movement as much as he did. A low grunt was all the warning that you got.

Astarion’s hips snapped forward, setting a brutal pace of thrusts. Your moans fall over your lips with short breaths, hips trying to hold themselves up against the man.

Astarion’s hand reaches down further, holding some of your weight by gripping your ass, his other holding up his weight as he leans forward. His hot breath fans against your neck, head resting against you as if all of his energy is spent on roughly taking you.

Every drag of his heavy cock drives you higher and higher, sickly sinful slaps echoing amongst your embarrassingly loud moans.

“Gods above, pet.” Astarion manages, every word sounding like it took immense effort on his part. You felt his hips start to stutter, your own core beginning to clench hopelessly.

”Astarion, please! I- I…” You start, the pleasure rendering you mute.

”Come undone,” Astarion growls lowly, “Come undone with me.”

Your mouth opens to a silent scream, your cunt clenching hard around the thick member. Your hips jerk desperately, your nails digging into the pale elf’s arms. Astarion follows quickly behind you, pained grunts whispering out of his lips as he pushes deeply into your heat. You feel him twitch, warmth blooming through your lower stomach.

It’s a moment or two before the two of you touch back down to earth, both panting and clinging tightly to one another. When his head finally tilts up to meet your gaze, his eyes are full of affection, smiling softly.

You return him an affectionate smile, hands coming up to trace circles into his hair. ”So did I earn another compliment then?” You teased.

Astarion rolled his eyes, gently lowering you back down, “I suppose you do. Please make this one better than the last.”

You thought for a moment, wondering what would encapsulate your feelings the best. What would mean the most? After another beat or two, you realized there was no hope at a long and drawn out proclamation of love. It would have to start with something simple.

”I am so very lucky to be beginning a life like this with you.” You say sweetly, gesturing to the messy shop around you.

Astarion’s cheeks redden, still slightly unsure on how to go about accepting such loving words. “Well, ahem…” He cleared his throat looking around the room. “As am I.” He narrowed his eyes again at the layer of dust you sat upon. “After it’s clean of course. A task we should be getting back to.”

”Couldn’t agree more.” You sighed, pausing. “But there is one thing you have to do first.”

Astarion looked back at you, his voice lacking any usual tease, simply full of affection, “Anything you desire, darling.”

You giggle, giving him the sweetest smile you can manage.

”You have to pull out first.”

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