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sooniebby · 2 months

Note

Alr bro I am BACK from the Malevolent Kitchen- So this whole thing takes place in the Heian era, when Sukuna was at his strongest and walking around as a four armed, tall monster of a man (he has two massive dicks I am not being told otherwise don't even play, lad)

Reader (do I even gotta say it? I'm real predictable let's be fr 💀) as Sukuna's favourite shrine keeper- as he's speaking to some sorcerers (prolly begging for mercy or smth), he calls the reader over and commands him to strip and warm his (massive) cocks, all the while the poor sorcerers are just fucking sitting there. Eventually, he gets tired of the reader just warming his cocks and commands him to start moving, scoffing when the reader is too slow for his liking- ultimately he just grabs the reader's hips with his lower pair of arms, using him like a fleshlight,,,,,,,

ALSO if and only if you are feeling up to it,,,,, skip to modern day when Sukuna gets incarnated again and is immediately like okay where the fuck is reader (he's been alive with Uraume, which is why he hasn't physically aged, either) so he can drag the reader into his innate domain and get his dick wet after centuries of no bf :((( kinks- degradation, sadism/masochism, size, double penetration, exhibitionism

ఌ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍

꧁ 𝙍𝙮𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙭 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

w.c. › 9.1k

Warnings › first time ever writing Sukuna. Reader is trans male and he has breasts. Use of breasts and chest is interchangeable. Pussy, cunt, and hole are also used. Sukuna is still very mean but I made him just a little bit nicer, cuz romance lmao. Mentions of suicide. Boku is the JPN male version of I. Reader slurs his speech a lot

Kinks › degradation, sadism/masochism, size, double penetration, exhibitionism, nipple play, creampie, breast/chest play

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Wakizashi.

That’s what your dad called it. A Wakizashi. Shorter than a katana, larger than a dagger. The only weapon a civilian could handle in broad daylight without being seen as a threat. Many used it as a way to commit suicide.

He told you to use it for that reason.

It was the only good thing you could do.

The Fujiwara clan was powerful. No doubt about it. And while your father wasn’t the strongest, he was well respected. Many were excited when his wife was pregnant with you. Even when you came out as a girl, they weren’t too disappointed. Even a woman could be a strong sorcerer.

But you never did.

You had a curse technique.

But it was weak. It was fully based on defense.

The technique to manipulate shadows. But it was only your own. You could hide well but how does that help you in combat?

Didn’t help when you started spewing “nonsense” of not being a woman.

That earned you multiple whippings.

Everyone in the clan stopped paying attention to you after that moment. Your back covered in scars.

And the one large scar across your face.

Your Wakizashi flickered in the soft pale moonlight. The gold casing shining proudly. You took great care of it.

The harsh patters of feet caught your attention. You stood up from your makeshift mat, shuffling over to the small crack in your dilapidated cabin. It was practically a box. You glanced out, seeing multiple assassins hurriedly rushing out.

It looked to be the entirety of the Sun, Moon, and Stars Squad and then Five Empty Generals. Odd.

You shrugged it off, going back to lay down. You turned your attention back to your Wakizashi. It was the only thing you had in this box. You flicked your wrists, practicing your technique.

Even though you were weak, you still practiced everyday. With a sigh, you collapsed onto the bed. The rebellions you used to do as a child seemed so silly now. Cutting your hair, bathing with men, wearing male kimonos. Just to be locked away in the corner of your own home.

The door was unlocked but they made sure to make you fear even pushing it open.

Your mother took pity on you, being the one to deliver you food. You were sure that if she didn’t, you would’ve starved to death. But she seemed to be late today.

The soft sound of wind creaked against the old box. It shook slightly, always threatening to just collapse over you. Your eyes fluttered closed, clutching your Wakizashi close. It was only a few minutes later when the sounds of screaming caught your attention.

“He’s here!”

“Do not run away! We are the Toh!”

You sat up, staring at your door as the screams women, men, and even children reverberated through the cabin. Your grip tightened around the Wakizashi, bringing it up to your chest. Slowly, you crawled over to the door, pulling it inward to peek outside.

The sight… was horrific.

Blood. Blood everywhere. Weapons scattered. Arms detached. Heads rolling off bodies. Even a few bodies didn’t have the upper half. Many sliced into pieces.

You wanted to vomit. Who was doing this?

The Toh… was defeated.

You stepped outside the cabin, your bare feet touching the soft grass. The grass was colored red as you walked over to the piles of bodies. Your eyes scanning them, being able to name at least a fraction of the corpses. Underneath one, your mother’s eyes stared right at you.

Your breathing hitched, your hand clamping around your mouth. Despite the cruelty they gave you—it was difficult seeing them like this. The further you walked to the entrance of the Toh estate, the more gruesome each body became.

A few just being blood splattered against the floor.

“(Name).”

You shrieked, feeling a hand grasp your leg. It wasn’t someone you knew but her eyes were filled with fear. Blood trickled down her face.

“Run…. For your own sake.” She whispered.

Your eyes trailed over her body before you backed away.

The lower half of her body was gone.

Her arm fell down as her eyes closed.

You needed to run. If people as powerful as your clan were dropping like flies, you’d be killed immediately if this thing came to see you.

You began to run. Ignoring the bodies you had to jump or step over. You kept your eyes straight ahead. The Wakizashi tight in your grip. You hoped and prayed you would make it out free.

“Sukuna, is there any you want for dinner later?”

A horrid gasp left your body as you skid to a stop.

Your dad’s head hung from the grasp of a person. They were dressed in a kimono, short white hair. They held your father’s head up to a… thing behind them. The thing took your father’s head and examined it before tossing it aside.

“Not that one. Look for another.”

Its voice shook your body. The two of them were speaking as if they were looking at meat. Did they eat humans? But the white haired one looked like a human. You didn’t get the chance to think further when they suddenly turned over to you.

“Was something there?” The white haired one asked.

They saw nothing. The spot you once stood was empty, the only sight being corpses. They turned over to the thing, Sukuna.

“Go look for acceptable meat, Uraume.”

“Yes, Sukuna.”

Uraume began to move a few of the bodies about, looking for one that was acceptable for Sukuna. Sukuna hummed, cracking his neck as he looked around. His staggering form covered in blood. He stared in the direction of where you once stood.

You kept silent, staring right back at him. You had hastily summoned your curse technique, making yourself invisible to the naked eye. Your curse technique allowed you to hide in the shadows and even manipulate your own to hide yourself.

But it wasn’t strong, you could never hold it for longer than five minutes. And you haven’t eaten all day, you were weak. Hiding yourself physically didn’t hide any noises you made. So you clamped your lips shut, trying to not breathe, hoping he’d look away.

If you moved, he’d surely hear your footsteps, especially with how quiet it was. Your knuckles turned white as you clamped tightly at your Wakizashi.

Unable to hold it any longer, you let out a soft huff, pulling in as many air as possible.

But that was enough for Sukuna.

A large puff of air attacked you as you lost control of your technique, suddenly becoming visible. You collapsed to the ground, crying out in shock as you stared up at Sukuna.

He was large. Four arms and two faces. His eyes narrowed at you, glancing over you as he began to smirk. Blood covered his body. You knew your father and mother’s blood was mixed in there.

“How could I have missed you? You puny little thing.” He reached over to grab your hair but it went right through your body. Sukuna huffed, slightly confused on what just happened.

Your other ability, besides just becoming one with shadows, was the short ability to make your body unable to be touched. Sukuna pulled back clamping his fist before thrusting it into your chest.

It went through, but he didn’t kill you. Sukuna pulled his arm away, his head tilting. He didn’t look angry, on the contrary. He looked amused.

You quickly pulled the sheath off your Wakizashi and stood up on shaky legs. You had never fought. Never even used the Wakizashi against a real opponent besides a tree.

Sukuna chuckled. “Do your best.” He said, grinning. It was no encouragement. He didn’t even move into a fighting stance. Just from a look at you, he knew he was going to win.

“Domain Expansion: Moonlight Paradise.”

Dark matter spilled out from the ground as it formed into an orb around you and Sukuna. Your domain wasn’t strong. It wasn’t anything that helped you win fights.

It was a paradise.

A crescent moon shined, adding light to the otherwise dark domain. Spider lilies grew from the ground, surrounding you like a barrier of protection. A large sakura tree sprouted from the ground, growing tall as it quickly blossomed.

You shivered as you looked up at Sukuna. A feeling of bile filled your throat as you doubled over and coughed out blood. Sukuna looked at you with disgust, the hell was this?

“Is this your best?” He asked, stepping over to you. He was hoping for some sort of fight. But this was all you had to offer? A piss poor attempt at a domain.

You held out your Wakizashi, handing the hilt to Sukuna.

“If… die…” You winced, unsure of how to explain yourself. You weren’t taught to speak. Not after your whipping at age 9. And with everyone no longer speaking to you, you hadn’t spoken in years. Your voice was hoarse, struggling to work after years of being dormant.

You made the effort to write and read. But you stopped speaking. You hated your voice. This female voice that wasn’t yours.

Even now, just hearing your voice made you angry.

It’s a shame you were going to die with this voice.

“If…I…must die…You…willdo..bymy…Wakizashi.”

“Boku?” Sukuna muttered, staring at you. His eyes roamed your body. You weren’t a man. Not by the sight of your ample chest. You were wearing a female kimono. But your hair was cut short by a blade, judging by the jagged ends.

“Boku!” You screamed, glaring at him. You weren’t going to die being misgendered. You were going to die with the pride of being a male.

Sukuna grabbed the Wakizashi. It was small in his large hand. He lazily spun it around, making you slightly worried that he’d break it.

“You call yourself a man but you give up so easily?” He tossed the Wakizashi to your feet. “Pick it up. You have a technique, use it.”

You bent down, picking it up. “Nouse…strongerthan… me.” You could tell he had a bit of trouble understanding you, but you didn’t care. You just wanted your death to be over with.

“Why the domain?”

“diein…pretty…place..”

Sukuna glanced around. Your domain seemed to be just for aesthetic. There wasn’t any hint of anything else brewing inside. Nothing that was waiting to attack him. You really seemed set on dying without a fight.

You knew your place quite well.

He liked that.

“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”

Your own peaceful domain was torn to shreds as red covered the sky. A large Buddhist shrine grew out of the ground behind Sukuna. Skulls decorated it. It looked to be human skulls. The ground beneath you became dark water.

But your spider lilies stayed alive. The crescent moon still shining down on you.

Sukuna sat down on his throne, his leg resting against the arm. He stared down at you, his eyes roaming you from his new position over you.

The Sakura tree died, disappearing like a puff of smoke. You collapsed to the floor and coughed heavily, the toll of opening your domain already affecting your body.

“Are you from the Toh?” He suddenly asked.

You mutely nodded.

“Look at me when I speak to you.”

You glanced up, trying to ignore the growing pit of fear in your belly. He smirked, leaning forward. One of his hands resting on his knee. The other holding up his chin.

“I find you interesting. I’ll allow you to live, as my shrine keeper. Once I’m bored, I’ll kill you.”

“inmy…domain..?”

“If that’s what you desire.”

Despite the voices in your head tell you to not accept, you nodded. You knew at most, this curse would only let you live for a day or two before he kills you. At the very least, you’d get to enjoy Earth’s beauty in the fullest.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You’re filthy.”

A basin of water poured over your head as you shivered outside, fully nude. Your arms tightened around your chest as you were soaked twice before a rag began to rub against your body.

It was Uraume. They weren’t impressed that Sukuna had chosen to keep you alive. You were weak, what did Sukuna gain from keeping you?

But Uraume didn’t question it. They knew their limitations.

“When was the last time you bathed?”

You winced, being roughly manhandled to face Uraume as they kneeled down, scrubbing between your legs.

“River…bathein..River.”

Uraume hummed. Their hand trailed upward, unabashedly scrubbing your pussy before moving to your ass. “What’s your technique? Or were you not blessed with one?”

“Shadows.”

“How does it work?”

You bit your lip, unable to stop the slight giggle when Uraume moved up to your ribcage. They stopped for a second, believing they had hurt you until you gave a slight smile. They huffed and continued on, making sure no part of your body was left untouched.

With the moonlight shining down on you, you glanced down at Uraume’s shadow. You reached out and gently poked the shadow’s cheek. Uraume stopped, looking up at you with wide eyes.

You couldn’t help but grin. You grabbed the shadow’s hair, twirling a strand. A strand of Uraume’s hair began to twirl as if a finger was doing it. But there was nothing holding it up.

“You can manipulate shadows?”

“Mhn…justtouch.” You slurred. “Can’t…domuch…wasn’t…taught.”

You stepped away, shyly smiling as you slowly disappeared into your own shadow. Uraume hummed, nodding themselves as they watched you come back up.

“Can’t…hidefor…long. Noise…canbe…heard.”

“Do you have no offense attack?”

You shook your head. “Touch…couldbe…offensive…buti…can’t… can’t handle…weapons..too…weak.”

“I don’t believe that. Every curse can be offensive. You simply wasn’t trained properly.” Uraume walked over, grabbing the basin filled with water. They brought over your head and dumped it, ignoring your slight shriek at the cold water.

“It won’t matter now. Sukuna more than likely won’t let you live longer than a day. It’s a shame.” They draped a small towel over your body. “Use this to dry off. I’ll retrieve your clothing.”

As you dried off, you thought about what they said.

Was that true?

Could you use your technique for offense?

It made sense. You were never taught to try as you had quickly mastered hiding first. And then the whole problem of your stunts of being a male, it’s no wonder you stuck to defense.

It was the only way you could protect yourself from such hatred.

It didn’t matter now though. You were going to die in a day, anyway.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

It’s been months.

It’s been months and you were still alive.

It was shocking. After the first day, you were so sure you were going to die. But Sukuna didn’t even pay attention to you. He walked right past you. He hardly talks to you at all.

You stuck to cleaning his shrine, most of the time.

Even Uraume seemed surprised you even made it to a week. But soon, they started to treat you… decently? They showed you how to cook certain meals and if they were up to it, taught you ways to use your curse technique in an offensive manner.

“Speak slowly.” Uraume said, sitting across from you in the small room. You and Uraume lived in a small minka, just a few feet away from Sukuna’s shrine. He seemed to have two shrines, one in his domain and the other here.

You sighed, nodding your head. Uraume would sometimes hold speaking lessons. They had gotten tired of having to listen to your almost incoherent way of speech.

“I…wield…theknife—”

“—The. Knife.”

“The…Knife…”

“Continue.”

“The…Knife…to…cut…meat.”

“Good enough. Go bathe.”

You nod, grabbing your Wakizashi and walking outside. Since the minka was small, the shower area was just outside the home. Your robes pooled around your feet as you filled in the basin, yawning to yourself.

“You’re still here?”

A chill rushes up your spine as you look back, gasping in shock. It was Sukuna. He stood only a few feet away from you, his eyes trailing down your nude body. You blush, using your hands to cover your crotch and chest from his gaze.

“whatdo…you..mean..? Why…wouldi..leave?”

Sukuna smirked. “You have no sense of free will. You had multiple attempts to run away. Uraume can’t sense you when you use your technique. Yet you’re still here.” He walks over to you, kneeling down to your level. You gulp, wondering if this is the moment of your demise.

His hand reaches out, coming into close contact with your face.

Your eyes clamp shut, leaning away.

But he doesn’t hurt you.

You feel a hand squeeze your right breast. You open one eye and look down. Sukuna’s hand squeezes your breast as he hummed in satisfaction.

“It’s soft.” He said.

“Mngh?!” You shriek, unable to really move in fear he’d tear you in two.

Two of his hands grasp both of your legs, spreading them open as you cry out. You were practically manhandled, spread open for his eyes to see. Your hands flung to his chest, embarrassment filling your chest as you tried to calm down your heavy breathing.

“If you wish to keep living, become useful to me.”

“Useful…?”

“I already have a cook. I need pleasure in other ways.”

A feather like touch teased your cunt. You gasped, looking down to see his one free hand slightly teasing your cunt. You’ve never touched yourself down there. It felt odd. You didn’t understand how this could give him any sort of pleasure.

Sukuna seemed to notice your confusion as he chuckled lightly, manhandling you to rest on your back, legs still held up high.

“I will simply train you to handle me.” Two fingers sinked into your tight heat. You felt your body thrash against his hold, believing he was somehow killing you. It felt strange. So strange to have something inside you.

Was this apart of his technique?

Would you explode if he curled his finger?!

Sukuna chuckled, enjoying your fearful expression. “Relax. Pleasure will soon consume you.” The fingers began to slowly move in and out, rubbing against your wet walls. You gasped, toes slightly curled as something weird began to burrow in your belly.

His thumb rubbed against your clit, causing you to cry out. That seemed to be your weakness. For the next few minutes, he slowly teased your cunt open, occasionally rubbing your clit. Your body stopped thrashing but you couldn’t help but arch your back, biting your lip as screams threatened to live your throat.

“eeeeh…pee..pee..!” You cried out, tears welling in your eyes. Sukuna’s fingers didn’t stop, instead they continued. Even as you continued to cry that you were about to piss, Sukuna only laughed.

Your cunt clamped tightly around his fingers as you felt your body spasm. A moan left your throat as something washed over you. You felt…good?

What was this? Why did you feel so sleepy?

With what little strength you had left, you grabbed your Wakizashi and held it against his chest, glaring up at him. Sukuna released your legs and grabbed your hand, simply having to squeeze it to have you release the Wakizashi.

You felt too sluggish to actually put up a fight.

“You orgasm but still have the energy to use a weapon.” He laughed to himself. “You truly are interesting.”

He stood up and walked away, leaving you on the floor, legs spread open.

Just…. What the fuck was that?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Orgasm.

It was an orgasm.

And Sukuna had been giving it to you constantly.

He appeared more frequently at the minka. He grabbed you whenever he pleased, even if Uraume was in the area. Spreading your thighs as he fingered your heat. He would sometimes squeeze your breasts, always commenting that it was his favorite body part of yours.

You were even forbidden from wearing underwear.

Easy access, apparently.

Uraume didn’t seem to comment or care about this new development. They simply helped you bathe whenever you were too tired. You still had your occasional lesson on speech and offense but you weren’t making much progress.

But somehow, the crazy murder, Uraume was encouraging. Believing it was just difficult for you to let go of old habits, especially in speech. You still couldn’t believe that they were a ruthless killer by how nicely they treated you.

It had been close to a year now.

You still thought about your clan. The massacre that happened right in front of you. But you couldn’t mourn them. Not after how they treated you. Such cruelty.

Sukuna and Uraume treated you like a male.

How could monsters treat you so well but not your own family?

There were days Uraume and Sukuna were gone. Those days you knew they were killing some other clan. Killing any sorcerers that dared stumble onto their path. But you never ran away.

Despite the amount of times you could.

You just never did.

Your fingers traced against Sukuna’s shrine, making sure there was no dust collecting on it. This was one of the rare occasions you were in his domain. But there were other sorcerers here—they were on their knees, pleading for their life.

You didn’t look at them at all, not wanting to be reminded of their humanity. To be reminded that Sukuna was a ruthless killer. That you were lucky you could stand near him and not fear death.

“(Name).”

You glanced up, looking over to see Sukuna motion for you to come over. Your bare feet pattered against the dark water as you went over to him, standing up straight as you waited for whatever he could want.

“Sit.”

When you moved to kneel, Sukuna grabbed your arm and pulled you onto his lap. You cried out, feeling your body freeze at the sudden closeness. You’ve never been so close to him. Being able to feel his breathing. The slow swell of his chest.

He began speaking to the sorcerers again but you didn’t pay attention. Hypnotized by this new position. Your hand slowly rested against his chest, your head leaning on his shoulder. You looked so small against him.

You couldn’t help but sniff the air, wondering if he had a scent.

He didn’t.

You stayed on his lap for a moment, wondering if he had just wanted you to cuddle him but you felt something twitching against your crotch. It was thick. Being strained by his robes. You wondered if it was just his knee but it kept twitching.

It was strange. It pressed against your cunt, earning a whimper from you. You had gotten so sensitive down there, easily orgasming when Sukuna touched you.

There was a tug at your robes as it was pulled down, causing you to gasp. Your breasts plopped out but you quickly covered them. It was luck that you had your back facing the sorcerers. Though they seemed to have stopped talking—only their soft whimpering and cries heard.

Sukuna didn’t say a word as he pulled open his own robe, two cocks springing free. You stared at it in shock. You’d never seen anything like it. It’d been years since you saw male genitalia. Did all males have two? That seemed a bit much.

You were glad you didn’t have any. It looked to be a pain to have to walk with something so huge between your legs. They pressed against your pussy—teasing your entrance. You backed away a little, only to have Sukuna grip your waist with his two lower hands.

“I trained you for this.” He simply said before turning his attention back to the pitiful sorcerers.

Training?

That training was for this?

Is that even safe?

You felt nervous. That… thing was supposed to go inside you? It wouldn’t kill you? You slowly sat up, hesitantly hovering over his cocks. The thought of putting two in so quickly, you didn’t think you could handle it. So you settled for one at a time.

The bottom cock slowly nestled inside your cunt as you eased it inside. It wasn’t painful but you didn’t like the feeling. It was odd, different than Sukuna’s fingers. His hands squeezed your waist once you finally bottomed out.

You glanced up, seeing his eyebrow raised. It was easy to tell that he was amused you could only fit one. You pouted, burying your face in his chest. He couldn’t blame you. You didn’t even know cocks could go inside a person! How could you fit two in the first try.

His second cock rested against your tummy. It looked a bit dejected. You kinda felt bad.

Sukuna and the sorcerers continued their conversation. You couldn’t pay it much attention. Your pussy clenching tightly around his cock. Your fingers clutched at his robe as you took deep breaths, beginning to feel weird with the thick cock spreading you full.

The sound of someone screaming caught your attention, but when you made the effort to turn around, Sukuna kept you still. He pushed you to rest against his chest, face smushed against his shoulder.

Someone was killed.

It was silent for a few more minutes before the remaining sorcerers began to speak about festivals they would hold in Sukuna’s honor. Sukuna’s cock twitched inside you. Huh, he must find that arousing.

Your eyes fluttered, sleep almost taking you over until Sukuna’s hands tightened around your waist. You felt your body be lift up until he slammed you back down. Your back arched as you screamed out.

The pain of the sudden movement somehow made you feel good. He bounced you on his cock as if you were nothing but a plaything. His grunts filling the domain. You were so happy he couldn’t see the sorcerers eyes on you, watching as you were used by the King of Curses for his own personal pleasure.

The thought of anyone in your clan knowing too brought fear inside your heart.

Any sort of pleasure you were feeling left. Your eyes fluttered closed as you just allowed Sukuna to take whatever he pleased. The reality of your situation had hit. You were nothing.

A toy for Sukuna.

Pitiful.

You were fucking pitiful.

Something warm erupted inside your heat, coating your walls. You let out a shuddered gasp, unable to ignore the small amount of pleasure that brought you. There was something white coating your tummy from his second cock.

Was this sperm?

It didn’t matter.

You couldn’t live like this anymore.

You proved your father right.

You were only good for one thing.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Wakizashi.

The Wakizashi was smaller than a katana, bigger than a dagger. A weapon civilians could carry around safely.

A weapon many used in suicide.

It was midnight. The moon shining down at you. You stood deep in the forest, bare feet touching the soft grass. You always loved the beauty of nature. The one thing that couldn’t be tainted.

You wore the female kimono you were forced to wear in the Toh. Despite the trauma, you still held the kimono close to you. It was made by your mother.

Your Wakizashi was held tightly in your hand. Its sharp blade glistening in the pale moonlight. You slowly widen your stance, arms gently moving into position as you whispered those faithful words.

“Domain Expansion: Midnight Paradise.”

The paradise soon engulfed you. The familiar spider lilies blooming around you. Sakura petals fluttering from the makeshift sky. It was peaceful.

The ground, however, was dark water.

You’d never done that before. Sukuna must’ve rubbed off on you. A bitter laugh left you. You really allowed a curse to take you—allowing it to plant itself into your heart.

The Wakizashi felt heavy in your grip. Even as you placed the blade against your neck, your hand shook. It rattled in your hand as tears streamed down your face. You didn’t even know why you were hesitating. Sukuna didn’t like you.

He used you for pleasure—he said it himself.

You were simply doing him a favor.

Your grip tightened as you sighed. It would be okay. This is what you always wanted.

Maybe, you’ll be born to a happy family.

The blade cut clean through your throat, blood oozing out. You dropped the Wakizashi as you collapsed. Your eyes fluttered closed as you accepted your death.

Only for you to realize you weren’t bleeding anymore.

You reached up and touched your throat, feeling a scaring instead of the open wound. It… healed?!

“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”

“You humans are amusing.” The calming paradise bursts—Sukuna’s shrine appearing in front of you. The spider lilies stayed, curling around you as if it was comforting you. “You seem to have forgotten you belong to me.”

Sukuna appeared on the throne, staring you down with a glare. “I choose when you die. I will grant you the freedom of death. Now, come here.”

You slowly sat up, staring at him in shock. You had so many questions. How? Why? What did he do to make you live?

“Come here. Now.” He said, his tone stern. You stood up on shaky legs, slowly walking over to him. His body seemed larger than before. His eyes narrowing at every movement you took.

Sukuna grabbed your kimono as soon as you were close enough and tore it open. It ripped to shreds, falling to your feet in minutes. You held back your tears, keeping your eyes on the ground.

“(Name), you will look me in the eye when I speak to you.”

You glanced up, feeling your body hiccup as your tears began to flow. Sukuna simply stared at you, his eyes roaming your nude body. He stood up and gripped your face, moving your face upwards.

You expected anger. His cruelty to show for your actions. But his thumb gently traced the scaring across your face. It was from the whipping back then. It was jaggeder, covering your left eye to your right cheek. It was pure luck that you could even see from that eye.

“This body,” his hands trail down to your throat, tracing your new scar across your throat, “isn’t yours anymore. It’s mine. If you wish to die so badly it’ll be my hands.”

His grip tightened, causing you to gasp, your hands clutching at his arm. He stared you down, eyes showing no sign of any heart. But he didn’t strangle you. He moved down, grasping your right breast.

“Humans are insignificant. You should be grateful that I keep you alive. Your only purpose is to please me.” He pushed you into the ground as you gasped out, staring up at him as he kneeled down, tearing off his own robes.

You parted your legs, not even attempting to fight back. But you didn’t want to fight back. You wanted him.

Sukuna smirked. “Some man you are. Whoring yourself so easily.”

“itsokay…becauseits…Sukuna…” You whispered, giving him a soft smile through your tears. Sukuna froze for a moment, staring down at you as he grunted in anger. His hands gripped your waist and pulled you close, rubbing his cocks against your pussy.

“You know your place now?”

“Mmmmh. Sukuna’s…”

Sukuna chuckled, his lips slightly tugging into a smile. It was odd. You felt safe in his presence. The dark thoughts swirling in your brain felt like nonsense when you were near him. But you didn’t know why.

It felt counterintuitive to feel safe in the arms of a man that committed a massacre.

His degradation felt like care. He used a technique to save you.

He must care about you.

Even if the way he showed it was cruel.

Perhaps you weren’t mentally sane.

More than likely.

You reached over, grasping two of Sukuna’s hands and bringing it to your breasts. He easily squeezed them both, pulling at your nipples. A shuddered breath left your lips as you whimpered.

“You must be punished—for damaging my possession.” You feel his cocks teasing your pussy. There was no getting out of it. You’ll be taking both at the same time.

Slowly, inch by inch, his two cocks sinked into your pussy. It was painful—nothing you could have ever imagine. Your breathing shuddered, hands gripping at his shoulder for some form of relief.

How could anyone like this?

Two of his hands gripped your breasts while the other two held your waist down, keeping you still. You wanted to thrash around, pull away due to the pain but he was too strong. But even though it was so painful, your cunt clenched around his cocks.

Your hands moved downwards, tracing his abs as you giggled to yourself. Being so close to him, you could finally take a good look at him.

The black markings all over his body. The second face. His four large arms.

He looked better in the moonlight.

Your hand moved away from his chest, reaching over to grab your Wakizashi. With a swiftness, one of Sukuna’s hands grabbed your wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Wakizashi.”

You managed to pull your wrist away and grab the Wakizashi. You used your other hand to grab one of his and place it over the other gripping the Wakizashi. Sukuna’s eyes stayed on you, his eyebrows raising as he watched you with curiosity.

“Myheart…and….Wakizashi…belongto…Sukuna…Ryomen.”

A childish grin spread on your lips as you leaned up and gently kissed Sukuna’s hand that gripped yours. You looked up, unsure if Sukuna understood you. He seemed to have trouble understanding your form of speech.

But the look he gave you was scary. It was as if he was angry but also… lustful?

He released his grip on your hand and reached up, grabbing the back of your head as he smashed his lips onto yours. Your eyes widen, your hand releasing the Wakizashi. It clattered onto the floor before being pushed away by Sukuna.

You didn’t know curses could kiss.

You never thought a curse would be your first kiss.

But you eagerly kissed back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He manhandled you to lay back down your back as two hands lifted your legs. You almost forgot all about his cocks inside of you.

His hips moved back before slamming forward, causing your body to jostle from the force. You screamed out, nails beginning to claw at his back as he took you.

The sounds of skin slapping and your stuttered moaning filled the domain. Sukuna’s cocks stretched you full, reaching so deep inside you worried he’d spilt you open. You glanced down, seeing the soft tell sign of something bulging against your stomach.

From the inside…

Was that his cock?

Curses were insane.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your orgasm, your cunt clamping tightly around his cocks. But he didn’t let up, using you like a sex toy. Though it didn’t bother you this time—you liked it.

Sukuna’s hips slammed into you as the warm sperm began to coat your inner walls. That was fast.

You glanced up at Sukuna to see him looking away, as if he was also shocked he came that fast. A cocky grin appeared on your lips as you giggled, pressing kisses on Sukuna’s cheek.

“Wasi…thatgood?” You asked, looking up at him with eyes that resembled a puppy. Sukuna didn’t answer, simply pulling away from you despite your whines.

“I’m hungry. Go tell Uraume to cook me a meal.” Sukuna bluntly said, standing up as he slipped back into his robes. You simply wrapped an arm around your chest and clamped your legs closed for decency.

You reached over to grab your Wakizashi when it was quickly taken from you. Your eyes nervously turned over to Sukuna, watching as he lazily flipped the weapon before hiding it in his robe.

“Uhm….my…”

He smirked, “did you not say that it belongs to me now?”

You frowned. Well now you regretted that.

“You’ll earn it once you learn your place. Now go.” His eyes trailed down to the new scar on your throat. You could never tell what Sukuna was feeling but you could’ve sworn he seemed… upset at the sight. But his face quickly became neutral as he walked back to his shrine, sitting down and getting comfortable.

Your fingers gently traced the scaring on your throat. You’ve never seen the technique Sukuna used. It wasn’t something anyone taught you. But it must’ve been a strong one.

And he used it to save you.

Was that….

Love? ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You haven’t gotten your Wakizashi back.

Sukuna would occasionally taunt you with it, threatening to snap it in half. But he never did. He seemed to enjoy your panicked responses.

He kept it close though. It was always tucked inside his robe. You wondered if he ever used it when he went on his sorcerer killing sprees. Not that he’d ever need to. He could kill towns in minutes.

But it felt nice to have him hold it.

Your speech was still terrible. Uraume was the only person who could understand you, especially when you spoke longer sentences.

“Andi…sawthe…bunnyrush…awaytothe…burrow..! Butigrabbed…thecarrots…itstole!”

“You should’ve killed the bunny.” Uraume responded, handing you a bowl of miso soup. They gave Sukuna a plate that looked to be human meat. You had gotten used to ignoring the smell.

Sukuna stared at you from across the table. “The bunny ran where?”

“Theburrow.”

“Uraume, I thought you were teaching him to speak clearly,” Sukuna said. Uraume shrugged as they sat down beside you.

“Teaching takes time. (Name) is twenty two, it’s harder to change habits by this age.”

It practically became a habit for you to constantly repeat yourself when speaking to Sukuna. Other times he’d tell you to stop speaking. He was still rude and a bit cruel.

But he certainly changed. Judging by the fact he’d occasionally kiss you. Though it wasn’t soft and romantic kisses. Most kisses would leave you breathless with bruised lips.

He still took you whenever he pleased. Having you ride him in front of people. That was still embarrassing. But you learned to live with it.

You were sitting outside, the moon shining down at you as you slowly weaved a bracelet with flower stems. There were three others scattered beside you, dawned with small chrysanthemums decorating them.

The thin robe you wore hardly covered you properly causing you to shiver at a particular rush of cool breeze. You grinned, holding the finished bracelet in triumph. They were larger than your wrists, having been made as large as possible.

As you grabbed the other three, two hands grasped your breasts, harshly squeezing them. You gasped, almost dropping the bracelets as you looked back to see Sukuna. He used his other two hands to lift you up, just as his domain opened around you both.

He sat at his shrine, settling you onto his lap. His hands pulled your robe off as you clutched the bracelets tightly, making sure to not accidentally drop them.

One of his hands trailed between your legs, easily teasing your pussy. You shivered, resting your head on his chest as he slowly teased you open. His large fingers slipped inside your cunt, stretching you out.

“Sukuna…” You mewled. “Gotyoupresent…”

You felt the loud reverberation of his grunt through his chest. It was somehow comforting that he had such human bodily autonomy. Your hands slowly opened, holding them up for him to see. Four brackets with red and white chrysanthemums in the center of the flower stems.

Sukuna grabbed one of them, examining it as his finger continued to stretch you open. He chuckled slightly, placing it back into your palms.

“I don’t need gifts from you.” He said, earning a frown from you. Your lips parted as you tried to argue back only for him to lean down and nip at your lips, kissing you with as much softness as he could possibly muster.

“I already own you.”

Your breathing hitched, staring up at him in shock. You eagerly kissed him back—moaning as he began to feverishly finger you open.

“Takeme…please.” You whispered, placing the brackets onto the ground as you moved to properly straddle him. Your hand pulled his robe open, allowing his cock to freely press against your thigh.

You shyly grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Useme…Sukuna Ryomen.”

Sukuna smirked, two of his hands instantly gripping your hips. “You don’t get to complain later.” He said before slamming you down onto his cock. You screamed out, the painful stretch bringing you a pleasure that you had learned to love.

He bounced you up and down on his cock with reckless abandon. Your sweet, high pitched cries being music to his ears. The sight of you was intoxicating. Your breasts bouncing in tandem with his thrusts—your cunt clenching around his cocks like a vice.

And to think… he was going to kill you that day.

He would’ve missed out on such great pussy.

Whatever he felt for you, he wasn’t sure. But what he did know was that he loved fucking you.

His hand reached down, kneading your ass. He leaned over and began to suckle on one of your nipples, earning a whine from you. You would always end up cumming more than twice, the least.

His name left your lips like a prayer, your nails digging into his shoulder as you wailed out.

You reached your first orgasm in minutes. He could always tell whenever you did. Your nose would scrunch up, lips curling into a frown, as your body began to stiffen. Your cunt would always tighten as well, practically begging him to fuck his cum into you.

The effect you had on him was different. He could last longer with random woman he found but with you… He always found himself releasing faster.

He bit down on your nipple, causing you to shriek at the pain. Despite the cries and whimpers you gave whenever he would intentionally hurt you. Twist a nipple too hard. Spank your ass a bit too red. You would always come back for more.

Fuck… just what have you done to him?

He pulled away from your breasts and pulled you closer, claiming your lips with anger. You helplessly kissed back—unable to really take any sort of control in the kiss.

You pulled away from the kiss to breathe, hiccuping as you nuzzled your face into his neck. He continued to bounce you on his cocks, getting you closer to your second orgasm.

It was unreal. To be so connected to a curse. The King of Curses no less.

You felt the quick swelling of his cocks, indicating he was about to cum. Your cunt tightened as much as it could, earning an animalistic grunt. He began to use you with no regard whatsoever to the bruising his grip left on your body.

He slammed into you just as his cocks began to cum deep inside you. You pulled him close to give him a kiss, reaching your own orgasm.

You didn’t know if what you felt for Sukuna was love. But you certainly didn’t want to live without him.

It’s a shame this would be the last day you saw him.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

It was interesting to see Japan grow so much.

You didn't know that you would’ve been alive for so long. To not age at all. It was a blessing and a curse. You certainly stopped getting to know people, tired of seeing them grow old in age or even die by unfortunate events.

You would occasionally see how the sorcerers were doing. But you never got close—knowing you were technically a betrayer. Uraume was still with you though they would occasionally disappear to meet a man named Kenjaku.

Other curses still disgusted you so you never made any effort to speak to them like Uraume did. They kept speaking as if they could bring back Sukuna but you didn’t really believe it.

No, it was more so you didn’t think it would be a great idea. You’d lived longer than you’d been with Sukuna at this point. And while you still love him, you knew deep down humans were doomed if he were to come back.

The soft breeze gently flew past as you sat in the woods. Moonlight shining down on you as you moved to lay down.

Something felt off, but you had pushed the feeling away. Being able to live for so long should’ve been a blessing though you would occasionally wish to die.

But you never got your Wakizashi back. You assumed Sukuna died with it.

You didn’t know if that made you feel better or not.

People were nice. Many calling you a man. It was like a dream come true.

It was like two sides fought inside of you.

The need to protect human lives.

The want to kiss and hug Sukuna.

Why couldn’t you have fallen in love with someone normal?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You shouldn’t come to Shibuya tonight.”

The soft hums of the television almost entirely drowned out Uraume’s voice. You looked over at them, watching as they grabbed something from the closet. Shibuya?

“I haven’t been to Shibuya in a while.” You said, glancing back at the tv. Your style of speech was more coherent after centuries of practice. Though you would sometimes revert back when emotional.

“Why? Is something going to happen in Shibuya?”

Uraume simply hummed. “Could your body handle Sukuna today?”

You got up from the couch and walked over to Uraume. “Hm? Handle him?” Your hands rested against the countertop of the kitchen as you thought for a moment. “No. I haven’t had sex in centuries. I’m a virgin again.”

You giggled at your own joke while Uraume rolled their eyes.

They turned over to you, their eyes trailing over your body. “Your chest is bigger.”

You glanced down at your chest before glaring at them. “I just gained weight.”

“That’s a good thing.” They patted you on the back. “Bigger is better. I’ll be back.”

You mutely waved as Uraume left, humming to yourself. Bigger is better? You were pretty sure you had seen porn ads with that as a slogan. But there was a weird feeling your tummy. Why did Uraume suddenly ask you about Sukuna?

It been forever. Did they….

No. You pushed the thought away. You’d become a stuttering mess if Sukuna appeared in front of you.

But you were sure you’d kill him.

Just for leaving you.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“You’re okay keeping your face like that?”

“For now. If I’m going to be fighting amongst sorcerers, it’s better to maintain this kind of appearance.”

…..

“Where is he?”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Uraume hasn’t been back for a while now. You didn’t get too worried, they had a habit of doing so. It mainly worried you that things seemed off. A massacre happened in Shibuya.

It felt too similar to his work.

You shrugged it off, knowing just how difficult to was to reincarnate Sukuna.

But what if…

You groaned in frustration. You needed to go visit the forest. Your favorite forest was all over the place. You would always change it whenever you felt tired of another. This forest was beautiful with a large crystal blue lake.

Small baby ducks floated about while its mother watched. You sat down right next to the lake, putting your feet in it for some cool water against your skin.

The pale moonlight shunned down on you, always being a comforting blanket. It would always calm you down. Your legs slowly treaded through the water, sending small waves to the ducks.

A giggle escaped your lips as you watched the baby ducks scatter at the sudden movement.

You leaned over and stared at your reflection, gently poking it with your index finger. Soft ripples carried across the lake.

Your mind began to blank as you yawned. The ease of distractions began to push away any worry you had before. Until you felt… something was off.

The forest was silent. No more soft rustle of the wind. Crickets. Birds. Even the ducks on the water were long gone. Something was wrong.

You slipped out of the water, glancing around. You slowly stood up and tried to ignore your own wishes for your Wakizashi. You’d get through without it.

But nothing happened. It was still—nothing came out and attacked you. You shook your head, scratching at your scalp as you turned back to face the lake.

“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”

Those words.

That voice.

The familiar black water pooled your bare feet. The same shrine covered in human skulls. The memories of cleaning it. Sitting on Sukuna’s lap while he taunted helpless sorcerers.

Spider lilies began to bloom around you, forming a circle. The moon was still shining down on you. You didn’t want to turn around. In fear of just how you’d react to seeing him.

Would he look the same? Did he still like you?

Did he ever like you?

You felt young again. The young and naive (Name) rushing back in. Who couldn’t speak properly. Who couldn’t fight to save his life.

Two hands suddenly appeared from behind you and spun you around.

He was still taller than you. His markings still all over his body. But his hair was black this time. He didn’t have two arms either. You almost didn’t believe it was him until a smirk spread on his lips.

Yeah… that’s your Sukuna.

Your body felt stiff as you slowly stepped forward before leaping into his arms. His arms immediately wrapped around your waist, holding you close as you began to wail. Your hands gripped at his body—making sure this wasn’t a dream.

He was real. He was real.

“You’ve missed me, huh?” He teased, his hand trailing downwards to grip your hips. His thumbs sinked into your skin as if he was now checking if you were real too.

“Mhm….missedsukuna…solonely…” You whined, cursing when you noticed you couldn’t speak properly anymore. Now that was just embarrassing.

You continued hugging him, leaning in as close as humanly possible. Your hands gripping at his shoulders while you buried your face in his neck.

You really did betray your clan, cuddling with the murderer.

A sudden squeeze at your breasts caught your attention. You pulled away a bit to see Sukuna squeezing both of your breasts together. He smirked, his thumbs rubbing against your nipples through the shirt.

“They’re bigger.”

You glared at him. “Stopit. Youcanttouch…meuntil…iget…Wakizashi!” Sukuna rolled his eyes but complied, pulling away as he reached into his robes. Slowly, he pulled out your Wakizashi. Its gold sheath somehow still shining proudly.

Your hands practically snatched it away from him as you held it in the air, letting the moonlight shine down on it.

As beautiful as you remembered.

It looked recently cleaned. You glanced back at Sukuna, biting your lip. He kept it safe. He kept your Wakizashi safe.

Which meant…

He kept your heart safe.

“Do I get a reward for keeping that pathetic excuse of a weapon safe?” Sukuna asked, crossing his arms across his chest. Despite his words, you knew he took its protection seriously.

You mutely nodded. “Didn’t….sleepwith…anyone. Not since…youwere…gone.” You slowly placed the weapon on the floor as you stepped over to Sukuna.

“Kept myself just for you.” You managed to say before looking down in embarrassment. “Istill…belong…to…sukunaryomen.”

A grip on your chin caused you to flinch as he forced you to look up at him. Sukuna stared down at you, his eyes roaming your face. The same whip scaring on your face almost gone in its entirety. The scar on your neck completely faded.

“I see I have to remind you of the rules.” He said, forcefully tutting your head around as he continued to look at you. “Let’s sey that cunt of yours can handle me.”

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You missed this. His fingers thrusting into your pussy as he stretched you. Roughly kneading your breast with his free hand. It was weird being only touched by two hands—you couldn’t wait until he got his normal body.

Your back arched, soft mewls leaving your lips. You were fully nude, sat atop of Sukuna’s lap as he sat on his throne. Your cunt was tight. You really haven’t touched yourself ever since Sukuna left.

“Were you waiting for me?” Sukuna suddenly asked, his thumb teasing your clit as you whimpered. “Waiting to be used as my whore again?”

“Nghhh…”

“I was waiting to fuck this pussy again.” He slowly spread your pussy open. “Squeezing your tits. All I had was that fucking Wakizashi of yours.” He muttered bitterly, slamming his fingers deep into your cunt. You cried out, your hips moving upward as you tried to catch your breath.

He didn’t care that it had been centuries since you had sex. He seemed to enjoy that you were so loyal to him that you practiced celibacy.

“You’re lucky I need to feel your pussy around my cock—you deserve a punishment for not fulfilling your duties.” He pulled open his robe, his cock springing out. Your shuddered, feeling it rub against your pussy.

“What…duties…?” You whispered.

Sukuna harshly squeezed your breast, pulling at the nipple. You cried out in pain—your body squirming in his grip as his cock began teasing your pussy.

“You must’ve forgotten your place.” He whispered into your ear. “No matter, I’ll remind you of it.”

His cock slammed into your pussy, ignoring your scream of pain. He was harsh and unforgiving. Your body spasmed as it tried to get used to the harsh thrusting. It’d been so long, you already felt yourself feel close to an orgasm.

Sukuna’s hands gripped your thighs, pulling them upward as he thrusted into your tight cunt. The sound of skin slapping and your stuttered moaning filled the domain.

Despite the pain, you couldn’t help the slight smile on your lips. You missed being used like a toy for his pleasure. A groan left you as your pussy clenched around his cock. Even as you orgasmed, Sukuna didn’t let you, using you to reach his own.

You felt his cock suddenly pulsate in you as warm cum filled your insides. A shuddered moan left your lips. You almost forgot just how warm sperm could be.

But you began to feel yourself being moved up and down. His hands moved to grip your waist, easily bouncing you on his cock. The overstimulation instantly caused you discomfort but your whines fell on deaf ears.

“I’ve been without your cunt for centuries.” He said, grunting as you clenched around his cock. Your hands gripped at his thighs. You couldn’t hold back your moans, they were on the verge of screams. It was so much for what was essentially your first time.

Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, smashing his lips into yours. You eagerly kissed back. The kiss reminded you of all the past ones. The bites on your lips. The feeling as if he was stealing your breath away.

As you pulled away, he gave you a lustful smirk.

“I intend to make up for lost time.”

You weren’t going to be able to walk for years.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

wowowo….my first fic at 10k words…. Jesus! I hope I did Sukuna justice <3

tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @iwishtobeacrow @tehyunnie @flurrina @mello-life69 @ofclyde @smellwell @tomoeroi @remdayz @rhetorical-conscience @love-kha1 @star-3214 @kiiyoooo @ac3ifix

#bottom male reader #x male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #mlm ns/fw #sukuna x male reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #jjk x male reader #ftm mlm #mlm nsft

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keerysfreckles · 3 months

Note

I saw you asked for luke requests so basically here i am😭😭

Luke x daughter of Apollo reader, who is just so unbelievably sweet and sunny and awesome and Luke who is genuinely head over heels for this girl he’s barely even talked to. Perhaps Annabeth utilizing forced proximity??

daylight — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x apollo fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, kissing, percabeth!!!

a/n: did i steal the jackie x cole kiss from my life with the walter boys as reader and lukes kiss..? .......no...

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

y/n wasn't sure what attracted her to luke castellan. maybe it was his charm, especially how charming he was when she first arrived to camp. maybe it was his looks. y/n always thought luke was way better looking than his siblings (don't let him find that out). or was it how she always felt giddy around him? she never felt this way around other campers, so what made luke so special?

the apollo girl was trying to figure it out on the way to breakfast, when a pair of hands clapped down on her shoulders. it brought her out of her trance.

the culprit was the hermes boy she couldn't get out of her head. luke castellan. along with annabeth beside him. y/n was confused once percy wasn't there. wherever annabeth went, percy followed.

"you've been so lost in thought recently, you okay?" y/n could tell luke was sincere while asking.

she only shrugs, "just have a lot on my mind i guess," she sends a smile to the pair before rejoining her own siblings at the apollo table.

annabeth simply shrugs towards luke, who's clearly just as confused by y/n's actions.

all throughout breakfast, luke couldn't keep his gaze away from y/n. her thoughts from earlier must have vanished. luke watched as she smiled brightly with her siblings. a smile that could light up the whole room, luke thought.

as cliche as it sounds, the way the sun was rising shined against y/n's hair perfectly. it was as if there was a halo surrounding her, securing the fact that she embodied sunlight.

when campers talked to y/n, they always left with a smile. luke was a victim to that as well.

as annabeth was walking back to her own table, with her second round of breakfast on her plate, she caught lule staring at y/n.

annabeth leaned down to luke, and the action made the boy jump, only making annabeth laugh. "and we're dreamily looking at y/n why?"

"damn annabeth, why don't you just restart my heart while you're at it."

"you didn't answer my question."

"i doubt i have a chance with her," luke sighs.

"you mean as in a relationship?"

luke nods, and annabeth sits beside him, not caring about the table rules in this very moment.

"why do you think she may not like you back?" annabeth questions.

"do you see her?" annabeth nods, choosing to ignore luke's grand hand gestures towards you. "she's the literal sun. everything about her is so pure, and positive, and perfect. what would she even like about me?"

"well, have you talked to her about this?"

luke looked at annabeth as if she had three heads and each one had smoke blowing out of it's ears.

"why on earth would i tell her? do i want to be made fun of by the most breath-taking girl at camp?" he said it if it were obvious.

without a word, annabeth left. this only confused luke. annabeth always had to have the last word in the conversation. luke knew she was planning something. he just wasn't sure what.

—

"why would there be a dolphin in the library of your cabin?"

to say y/n was beyond confused would be an understatement.

less than five minutes ago, annabeth informed her of a rabid dolphin placed in the middle of her library in athena cabin. y/n couldn't even get a thought out before annabeth started dragging her out of her own cabin.

"probably percy's idea. i don't know i haven't asked him yet." annabeth was still dragging y/n by her wrist.

"why don't you ask your little boyfriend about it and not me?" y/n offers. she sees annabeth become flustered as her grip loosens only for a moment, before the two girls end up outside the library door of athena cabin.

y/n pointed to the closed door, "and what exactly do you think i'm going to be able to do about a rabid dolphin?"

"you'll know," annabeth simply states, before pushing y/n inside quite aggressively. y/n hears the door lock.

"did you get the deranged raccoon story too?"

y/n turns to see luke looking through some of the books. she soon realized annabeth's little plan she had going on.

"no, not raccoons," y/n laughs, "a rabid dolphin actually."

"at least yours seems cooler," luke jokes.

y/n leans back against a wall and crosses her arms, already hating the slight awkward tension of the room.

"why would annabeth even trap us in here together? we barely know each other."

luke shrugs, "maybe that's what she wanted. for us to get to know each other better."

"i'm sorry, but doesn't annabeth, daughter of athena, goddess of wisdom, have something better to do with her time than trap two camp counselors in her library?"

luke couldn't help but laugh at the girl's response. she did have a point.

simply with the desk lamp light glowing towards y/n, luke still thought she looked like a human version of the sun.

"you're staring."

luke didn't even realize a few minutes have passed.

y/n only giggles at his flushed appearance, and walks over to stand beside him at the desk. a few books are opened. probably from annabeth doing more research about gods-knows-what. luke was now turned towards the books, and he felt y/n lean her chin upon his shoulder.

"do i make you nervous castellan?" she teases, jokingly at first. until she realizes he just tensed up at her phrase.

she slaps his upper arm, "oh my gods, i do make you nervous!" she exclaims.

luke rolls his eyes, "yeah, yeah, rub it in."

"am i dreaming right now? or does the luke castellan get nervous around me? and not some aphrodite camper?"

"aphordite's daughters have nothing on you," luke doesn't dare to make eye contact with the girl, but he's well aware of her staring. "you're literally a walking ray of sunshine. what can't i like about you?"

y/n involuntarily blushes at the compliment. she then places her chin back on luke's shoulder. finally, the taller boy looks at her. he swore he saw golden flakes dancing around her pupils.

there was a sudden change in atmosphere. neither of them could pin point why, but they weren't opposed to it.

"when i first got to camp, you made me nervous," y/n admits.

luke's eyebrows raise, "really?"

she simply nods, "the cool guy hermes camper wanted to talk to me more than his own brothers? of course you made me nervous."

both of them laugh at y/n's words, knowing they're nothing but true.

"why didn't you tell me before?" y/n asks, referring to luke's confession moments ago.

"i was worried you'd find it odd. and maybe you wouldn't want to talk to me, it's dumb i know," luke cuts himself off from his own rambling.

"it's definitely not odd," y/n reassures, "it's kinda cute, like you."

luke wasn't sure if he heard that last part right. maybe he just imagined it in his head, as something he wanted to hear. but he turned his head to face y/n. he was met with her staring back up at him, with worry filling her eyes as he didn't respond back.

"i like you luke, probably a lot more than i should," y/n moves her body away from luke's as she begins to walk towards the other side of the library.

however before she can even walk three steps away from the boy, his hand grabs at her wrist, halting her moments.

silence fills the room. not an uncomfortable one, but a steady silence.

luke pulls at y/n's wrist, making her hand collide with his chest. because of their height difference, now y/n had to look up at him. she gulped quietly, scared of what luke was going to say, or do to her.

the next event only confused y/n more.

luke leaned down and kissed y/n on the lips. she closed her eyes and savored the short but sweet feeling. in fact, it was too short for her liking. she broke her arm away from luke's grasp and he thought he was done for right then and there when she grabbed the back of his neck to bring his lips to hers again.

this time the kiss was much more passionate. months or maybe years of pent up emotions spilling out into it.

the two were too caught up in the moment as a muffled voice from behind the door became louder, and the door opened with the same voice following.

"do you really have a dolphin- OH MY GODS,"

y/n and luke turn to see percy standing in the doorway, with annabeth running up behind him.

"i tried to tell him," annabeth defended. "come on seaweed brain, let them have their moment."

"right sorry," percy then closed the door, before opening it again, "leave enough space for jesus between you two. i mean it!"

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 months

Text

trouble, m | jjk

... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic

“Oh, I’m in trouble.”

Panic coursed throughout his veins.

“I can’t be here.”

And maybe a little bit of arousal too.

“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”

He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.

Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.

Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.

Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.

Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.

Like he said, he was in trouble.

Tomorrow.

The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.

I hope your friends ask about me.

The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.

The devil was in the details.

“Hello? Did you space out again?”

Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”

Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”

“R… Right.”

He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”

Jungkook choked.

That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.

Mind a billion thoughts a minute.

You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.

Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.

Or more savagely.

You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.

Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?

Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.

“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.

You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.

Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.

Hah.

You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.

Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.

You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.

You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.

Thanks, brain.

Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.

Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.

Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.

If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.

Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.

Hah, what a bother.

You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.

Yup.

Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.

The looking glass showed you two ways.

You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.

Hmmmm.

Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.

What the–

You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.

At goddamn McDonald’s?

Is no place sacred?

It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.

Your fingers framing your face.

You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.

Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.

Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.

“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”

What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.

You envied their desire for silence.

Because you had to be loud.

You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.

“P-Please…”

His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.

“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”

You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.

This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.

Actually.

That sounded very dramatic.

And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.

Cut out all that risky business.

It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.

Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.

But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.

She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.

He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.

Holy fuck.

Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.

Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?

And, four.

Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.

He had to cover his ass.

Speaking of.

Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.

Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.

She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.

He gasped and screamed under his breath.

The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.

She swallowed.

Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.

“C… Careful…. P-Please…”

Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.

He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.

He did not.

I’m in trouble.

He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?

Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.

“Ready?” she hummed.

“Y- Yeah…”

In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.

Jungkook didn’t even care.

He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.

“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”

He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.

“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”

She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.

He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.

Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.

Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.

He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.

“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”

She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”

His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.

“I… I usually last longer…”

“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”

Her sex saved his life.

Her next words murdered him on the spot.

“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”

Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.

You could admit it.

You shouldn’t have said that.

But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.

Right?

Wrong.

You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.

Aw, shit.

You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.

Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.

You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.

“Gah!”

“Oh!”

And he grabbed your waist.

Of course, he did.

Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.

You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.

“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”

You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.

Didn’t want to know.

Better not to know.

“S’okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.

“You’re not in my way.”

You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.

“Actually… Please be in my way.”

You froze.

Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.

Oh, I’m in trouble.

He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.

You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.

“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.

An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.

“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.

You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.

No.

This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.

“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”

Jimin was stifling his giggles.

You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.

“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”

Oh no.

“Stay right there!”

Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”

But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.

“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.

You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”

Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.

Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.

“Uh…”

You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”

“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’m the same.”

Your knee touched his.

He looked at you.

Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.

“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”

“What?”

You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.

“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”

People only get into relationships for shitty sex.

Right?

I want to be around him.

“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”

You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.

Close enough for you to remember.

“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”

His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”

“Yeah, give me your number.”

She asked for it like it was easy.

Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.

“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”

“Wait, give me your number.”

She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.

“I want it,” he breathed.

Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.

Like she was trying to hold back.

“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”

“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.

“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.

What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.

Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.

They don’t like you.

You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.

You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.

Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.

Jungkook wanted you.

That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.

He was just waiting for you to start it off.

You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.

I’m in so much trouble, fuck.

You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.

You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

What is this?

You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.

“I c-can’t…”

His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.

“Can’t t-take it anymore…”

Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.

You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.

He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.

He’s too desperate to be a liar.

You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.

I want you.

He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.

“I w-want you…”

He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.

You saw what Jungkook was saying.

He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.

You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…

Until.

“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.

Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.

How could you refuse him?

You just couldn’t.

I’m so fucked.

Truly, madly, deeply fucked.

Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.

“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.

Harder?!

Was she trying to kill him?

She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.

He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.

He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.

It wasn’t enough.

Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.

He let his eyes flicker up.

Gasping, baring his depravity.

She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.

“Cum on me, Jungkook.”

Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.

Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.

Her cum and her perfume.

He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.

Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.

“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”

Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.

No, know that she really meant what she said.

His heart fluttered. Took flight.

No.

Soared.

They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.

He was sure.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

1K notes · View notes

sadhours · 3 months

Note

You’re so talented and amazing that smut has me SWEATING!!!!

Plsssss part two with Steve taking readers virginity I beg

stop I love you!

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, inexperienced reader, oral (f and m receiving), virginity loss, p in v, unprotected (sorry I can’t write any other way)

part one

requests are open!!

shockingly, when you went to Steve’s house that night, you two didn’t sleep together. Which was his idea. He said he felt like maybe you two oughta get to know each other better before you went that far. You were visibly upset by that but Steve insisted it would be better that way.

So that’s how you find yourself a couple weeks later, holding hands with him as you walk through the mall. If you didn’t know any better, you’d swear you were dating but Steve didn’t ask you to be his girlfriend. But you two have been spending almost every day together, after work and on your days off. Like today, the pair of you have the day off but you wind up at the mall anyway. He called you this morning and asked if you wanted to hang out. To which you told Steve you needed to get a new pair of shoes for work, since yours were falling apart and he offered to tag along. He even picked you up.

You make eye contact with your coworkers as the pair of you stroll passed the food court. They make crude hand gestures and so you squeeze Steve’s hand and walk faster. He’s none the wiser, eyes scanning around the crowded mall. You catch yourself staring at him. You’ve had this like, really intense feeling in your chest ever since you and Steve started hanging out. It’s tight, almost like your lungs don’t have enough air. And he’s literally all you think about, all you can talk about. Steve, Steve, Steve. On a loop, to a nauseating extent. Not nauseating to you, but most likely to your family and friends. But really, he’s so dreamy.

“Where do you usually get your work shoes?” Steve asks, grazing his thumb against the back of your hand.

“Sears,” you answer honestly. Steve’s parents are in a vastly different tax bracket than your own so you get a little self conscious about these kinds of things. You were incredibly impressed with his house. And it took a good convincing from him to let him come over to yours. Especially because while Steve’s parents weren’t home when you went over there, yours were at yours always. And they were embarrassing, even though you were an adult now, they hovered. And you couldn’t close your door when he came over. Your mom about talked his ears off, too but Steve was charming and when he left, your mom told you he was sweet and she liked him.

“Cool,” he nods, “What do you wanna do after this?”

You shrug, walking into the entrance of Sears, “I don’t know.”

“We can use my pool,” he offers, “It’s really nice out, today.”

You blush, the thought of being in your swimsuit in front of Steve is kind of a lot. Even though you two have messed around, you’ve been almost completely dressed each time. Really, you’ve just been doing the same thing— dry humping but Steve always pulls your tits out. He actually stares at them sometimes, gets this look on his face that makes you feel like a million bucks. His eyes get all glassy and he looks dazed as he watches them bounce with your movements. It makes you feel sexy and you’ve never felt that way in your life. But being so exposed in broad daylight is rather intimidating.

“Yeah, maybe,” you reply shyly, cheeks ruddy at the thought of him seeing your body. “We’d have to go get my swimsuit, though.”

“We’re at a mall,” Steve chuckles, “You can just buy one.”

Well, you didn’t anticipate spending too much today. But again, you’re embarrassed so you won’t say that. You just shrug, “If I can find one.”

“I can help,” he grins, eyebrows raising as he nudges his side against you. Which just makes your face ten times more flushed. “Oh, look!” Steve points to the section of the store lined with swimsuits, “Perfect.”

The pair of you head that way. Steve motions at a red bikini, which is not something you’d usually wear. You’re a one piece kind of girl. But now that you’re thinking about it, the swim suit you have at home isn’t exactly sexy. And really, you want Steve to look at you with that dreamy look in his eyes again.

“That one’s nice,” he says, “And my trunks are red, so we’ll match.”

You pick up the top, looking it over when you realize you have no idea how to tell your size. You’re gonna have to try it on. “I need to try it on,” you tell Steve and grab a few sizes before making your way to the dressing rooms, Steve right behind you.

Much to Steve’s dismay, you don’t show him the bikini but you get the right size and get your pair of shoes. Steve buys you a smoothie on the way out. But what he does on the ride to his house is really what gets you. As he’s driving, he reaches his hand over and rests it on your thigh. His palm against your bare thigh makes them all tingly and you feel like the car is suddenly really hot, so you roll down the window. Looking out because you’re too shy to look at him. Steve squeezes your thigh and you clear your throat, shifting in your seat.

“You alright?” he asks, turning to you briefly.

“I’m fine,” you choke out as you look at him.

“Is this okay?” he squeezes your thigh again.

You swallow the lump rising in your throat and nod your head yes, “Yeah, it feels nice.”

“Good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkling with it and he’s the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

You’re really nervous, fixing your hair as you look in the mirror. You wished Steve gave you a towel to cover up with before you changed because now you have to make an entrance… in this bikini that feels like it barely covers anything. You swear one wrong move and your boobs gonna fly right out. But you think, Steve won’t mind that.

His face confirms it when you finally walk out onto the back patio, seeing Steve laying towels out on the pool loungers. He drops the towel in his hand and his lips part, holding his hand above his brows to shield the sun as he gawks at you. And thankfully, his reaction gives you a breath of confidence and you strut over to him, “Not too bad, huh?”

“Fucking unbelievable,” he breathes through a satisfied smile, “You look amazing.” His hand comes to rest on the back of your waist, dipping his face down to kiss your cheek.

“Steve!” you flush, bringing your hands up to your face. He grabs your wrists and kisses all over face, repeating that you look great over and over. You erupt in giggles, grabbing his hands and pull back.

“What? Too much?” he asks, looking down at you with those gorgeous puppy dog eyes.

“I think… you need to cool off,” you say slyly before shoving him into the pool, jumping in right after him. Steve’s laughing when he comes up from the water, swimming over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Good one,” he muses, looking fond, “Very clever.”

“I’m glad you thought so,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. He kisses you then, and immediately you melt. Kissing Steve is like otherworldly. It’s like everything around you disappears and it’s just you two. His lips are soft yet firm, kissing you determinedly. His hands are big, cascading up and down your sides.

But then he pulls away and smiles, “Wanna race? I bet I can swim from this end to the other faster than you.”

“You’re on,” you bet and start swimming to the edge of the pool.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

After you two get out of the pool, your body is all tingly and needy. You dry off and can’t keep your eyes off of Steve’s body as he dries off. Eyes scanning over the constellations of moles scattering over his chest, arms and back. He catches you, biting is lip as he’s drying his hair.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I think… I want…” you take a deep breath as your face flushes.

“What is it? You okay?” he asks, tilting his head as he gets a look of concern in his eyes.

“I think I’m ready,” you tell him, “ya know.. to do it.”

“Really?” he drops his towel, looking surprised.

“Uh huh,” you nod as you smile, so sure of yourself.

He grabs your hand and practically pulls you up to his bedroom. You fall back on his mattress and he’s crawling up between your legs, palm meeting your cheek gently as he crashes his lips into yours. It’s different than kisses before. Steve seems more urgent, more needy. His hands feel you everywhere, squeezing and pulling wherever he can. It’s intoxicating and makes your stomach twist, full of desire. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer and you can feel his cock strained behind his swim trunks rubbing against your core. It’s familiar, but a bit more charged. There’s more coming and it has your back arching. Steve breaks the kiss, “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” you nod, writhing against him, “I’m sure.”

“Cool,” he breathes, moving his fingers to untie your bikini top and he pulls it off. His lips find your jaw, leaving sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever they can. Down your neck and over the curve of your breasts, then you feel his tongue against your perked nipple and you whine, knitting your fingers in his damp hair.

He flicks his tongue against it, looking up at your face as he broadly licks it before sucking it between his lips. You gasp, tilting your head back as you try to grind against him harder. You’re desperate for more friction there. Steve moans against your supple skin, and then his lips work lower. Down your stomach. And you no longer have his erection to grind against but his fingers dip into the waistband of your bottoms. Your breath catches in your throat, looking down at him in anticipation. He looks so pretty, the sunlight shining through the half closed curtains in his bedroom and casting beautifully on his strong eyebrows and sharp nose.

Steve peels your bottoms down your thighs and you move your legs to help him, hands moving to cover your chest. Otherwise, completely exposed to him. Steve kisses your hipbone, spreading your legs with his hands and then moves his mouth between them. Starts with kissing your thighs, but when he actually gets his mouth on your pussy, you cry out. It’s pleasure in a way you’ve never felt and it’s white hot, feel it everywhere. He licks through your folds, humming softly as he does so. It’s so warm and wet and lovely. Uses his plump lips when he does it, grazing against your folds. And he puts his mouth completely on you, sucks on your folds and his thumb lowers down to your hole, rubbing teasing circles around it and you gasp out. Eyes closing involuntarily as you tilt your head back, focused solely on how incredible this feels.

It’s almost pathetic how quickly he makes you cum, your cry breaks off as it leaves your lips and your thighs squeeze his head while you ride it out. Steve watches you with a look of shock on his face, flattery, really. Impressed with himself at quick he made that happen. Smoothes his palms along the soft skin of your legs as he forces them open, coming up for air. His cheeks are flushed, a pretty pink blooming over them and the tip of his nose.

“Christ,” he exhales, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he beams up at you. “You okay, princess?”

Your chest heaves while you come down, eyes blinking open as you let out a sigh. The pet name makes your chest tighten, you want Steve to say it again, over and over. “So okay,” you gasp out as you sit up and look down at him.

He smiles cheekily, nudging his nose against your shaking thighs as he blinks up at you, “You’re sensitive, huh?”

“Nobody’s ever done that to me,” you admit, tucking your hair behind your ear as you flush.

He chuckles softly, keeps nuzzling against your thigh as he smoothes his palms down your calves. “You sure you wanna keep going?”

You nod enthusiastically at him, “W-wanna make you feel good.”

Steve pushes you on your back, gets himself on top of you and places a chaste kiss against your lips, mumbles against them, “That made me feel really good.”

Your hands find his hair, carding in the locks as you kiss his words and roll your hips up to meet him, “I wanna keep going. Maybe I can try.. returning the favor.”

The boy grunts softly into your mouth, the corners of his lips hitching up, “You ever done that before?”

“No,” you pout, feeling a little self conscious but more than that, eager. “I’m a really fast learner, though.”

“I’m.. I,” Steve laughs, breath hot against your mouth, “Might need a break after, but… hell, we’ve got all night.”

“A break?” you ask curiously and Steve nods against you, foreheads bumping together. He cups your cheek, kisses you tenderly.

“Mhm, can’t go again as quick,” he mumbles into your lips, grounds his hips down and you can feel him through his swim trunks. Hard and firm against your sensitive cunt.

You pull him back slightly, looking up at him tenderly as you say, “I really wanna try.”

He laughs again, breathless and it’s not mean, it makes your heart warm. The sound of him. Pretty and sweet. Makes you that much eager to please; to impress.

Steve rolls onto his back, inches up against his pillows and looks at you, eyes dark despite the fond smile spreading on his face. You sit beside him and your fingers find the elastic of his shorts, inching inside and looking up at him for guidance. He nods, short and soft. You pull down his damp trunks and his cock bounces out, long and thick against his abdomen. He helps rid of the shorts completely, kicking them off his ankles and then he rakes his fingers through your hair. Tilts his head as he looks down at you and says, “Just do what feels natural, princess.”

Your cheeks heat at the name, blooming down your neck and chest. Curious fingers graze down his length, Steve breathes out a pretty sound— almost a whine, kind of a sigh. Then you wrap your fingers around him, biting your lip at the warmth and weight. He inhales sharply, nodding at you as you lean forward and press your lips to the tip. Experimentally, you lick against the head of his cock and then drag your tongue across the edge of it. Steve groans, keeps stroking your cheek and forehead as he watches you with pupils blown wide.

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes out, “doing so good already.”

You’ve still got your fingers circled around his shaft, holding his cock up as you lick the tip like an ice cream cone. But you know you’re supposed to suck, that’s what you’ve been told at least. So you wrap your lips around the head and do just that. It punches a pretty sound from Steve’s throat, distinctly a whine. So you do it again and again and Steve keeps making that sound over and over before he says, “Move your hand, princess. Slow, up and down.”

Head feeling all dizzy, you listen and slowly stroke his cock up and down. But it’s kinda awkward— dry. You think it would work smoother if your palm was wet so you pull away and lick your hand before returning it to Steve’s cock, and you were right, the movement is so much easier like this and Steve moans, eyes blinking rapidly as he watches you.

“Such a fast learner, good girl,” he pants out and you’re smiling, cheeks swelling before you take his tip back between your lips.

You like this— a lot. Grinding down against the mattress for some friction, thighs all hot and slick with arousal. It’s the way he reacts, the sounds he makes and the way his face contorts in pleasure. Steve was pretty before but he looks even prettier like this. He bites at his lower lip, makes it even pinker and plumper. You sink a little more of him into your mouth, careful with your teeth as you swirl your tongue around his swollen tip and then suck. Your jaw aches slightly but it’s so worth it. Steve’s fingers slide into the roots of your hair, gripping softly as he moans out little encouragements.

“So pretty, so pretty like this.”

And it’s kind of silly because you think he looks so pretty like this. You squeeze his shaft a little tighter as you stroke him, out of pure excitement and Steve groans, guttural and low as he swears, “Fuuuuck.”

You suck harder on his tip and continue moving your fingers up and down his length, curving your palm on each upstroke because Steve’s eyes roll back slightly and you want more of that.

“Just like that— holy—- fuckfuckfuck,” Steve pants and moans, “I’m gonna cum.”

Out of pure curiosity, you don’t pull off. Because also, when you came, Steve didn’t pull away. He makes a choked, broken sound and releases, hot and thick on your tongue. And you’d heard all your coworkers complain about the taste but Steve is sweet, not bitter like you’ve been told. You don’t hate the taste at all, though the texture is another story. But you swallow it down all the same and Steve’s watching and gasping for air as you pull away. He grabs hold of your face, pulls you close and then wraps his arms around your body, kissing you fiercely, bruisingly.

❤️❤️❤️❤️

It happens later. Steve’s parents away on yet another business trip, a white lie told to yours about staying the night at a friends and there you are. On his couch. Steve laid on his back, you nestled between his thighs with your cheek on his chest and his legs tangled with you. He plays with your hair as the TV plays late night informercials. You’re not paying attention, mind wandering as you subtly take in the smell of Steve. Musk and summer, his honey scented shampoo and the sugary candy you two shared on his breath. Fans your face hotly and lovely. Tickles against the ridge of your brows, cascades down to your nostrils and it’s rather intoxicating. Ushers you to lift your face and inch up his body, wanting to taste as you brush your lips against his. His hand snakes down your spine, onto the soft skin at the small of your back, your shirt pulled up just slightly. Steve kisses you back tenderly, sighing so softly you almost miss it.

A thought tugs at the back of your head and you ask against his lips, “What are we?”

Steve hums, eyebrow raising as he smiles, “What do you mean?”

“Like… we spend every day together, we kiss, we… do other stuff,” you swallow hard, chest tightening with fear as you repeat, “So what are we?”

He nudges his nose against yours, “What do you wanna be, princess?”

“Yours,” you admit, a whisper. Almost silent.

“You are mine,” Steve replies, squeezing your hip in his hand. You flush something mad, trying to surprise the giggle of excitement from bubbling out of your throat. It’s fruitless, the sound erupting from you as your cheeks swell. Steve kisses you again, softly and asks against your lips, “You wanna be my girlfriend, princess?”

You nod as you kiss back, “Mhm.”

“Then you’re my girlfriend,” Steve agrees easily, his breath smells so sweet, makes your head all fuzzy.

“And you’re my boyfriend?” you test, hand moving up to cup his jaw.

“You better believe it,” he mumbles, you can hear the smile but even better you can feel it against your lips. You kiss him again, more intent behind it this time— fingernails softly scratching at his jaw. Steve drags his tongue along your bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss which you eagerly agree as you part your lips. He tastes like candy, tooth achingly sweet when you welcome his skilled tongue against your own. It heats up quick, your hips dancing together as the pair of you pant into each others mouths. Steve’s hands lower to the fat of your ass, kneading and pulling. Your thighs feel all tingly, core aching with desperation for him.

You’re determined, you’ve been wanting Steve in that way for so long it feels like and he’s been taking his time with you. Testing the waters when you would’ve handed it over to him that first night in Scoops Ahoy!

“Stevie,” you pant against his mouth, “need you.”

“You have me, princess,” he retorts, smiling sweetly as he uses his leverage on your ass to grind you down against him. You can feel his length, hard and firm against your core and you whimper, needy.

“Need you— Steve, want you so bad,” you babble into his mouth as you writhe against him.

He taps your bum, “Up. Bedroom.”

You obey, don’t have to be told twice, holding his hand as he leads you to his bedroom. He kisses you once you’re inside, guides you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the mattress and you fall into it, pulling Steve with you, refusing to pull your lips away from his. Which is a feat when you two start undressing one another. When you do have to pull away to rid of articles, you whine and Steve chuckles, gives you what you want seconds later. Smoothes his hands down your naked body as he licks into your mouth. He pulls back, on his knees between your legs as he licks the tips of his fingers and brings them to your core, exhaling sharply once he’s met with the evidence of just how much you need him.

This is it, you think. As he licks his fingers again and smears the saliva over his aching tip, guiding it towards your entrance and you whine out, just when skin meets skin. Readier than ever, overwhelmingly desperate to feel Steve inside you. Your back arches as he sinks in, just the tip of him stretching you open. It’s pleasure incarnate, radiates through your stomach and eats at all your nerves.

“More,” you plead, grabbing onto his biceps as you roll your hips. Steve sinks in deeper and it’s a little intense, searing and hot and also so, so, so perfect. Pulls a high pitched moan from you. Steve’s rubbing soothing circles against your stomach.

“Tell me if it’s too much, yeah?”

You nod, digging your nails into his skin. Making little crescent indents. He lowers his mouth to yours, grazing your lips together as he sheathes his cock deeper inside. You gasp out, eyes clenching tightly at the burn. Steve kisses you through it, whispers words of encouragement there. Princess this and princess that. Pushes through this barrier and it’s all white hot pleasure. Bright light behind your eyelids as you moan out appreciation, adoration, desperation. His hips still, giving you the opportunity to adjust. Kisses you stupid with sugary sweetness. Tastes just like candy. Your hands are all over him, chest, stomach, shoulders, neck and back. Crying out soft little praising sounds.

He grits his teeth, eyebrows tangled as he pleads, “Please— princess, can I move?”

“Please,” you beg, “Gimme…” the thoughts lost as Steve winds his hips back and pushes them back down into you. A moan interrupting, voice wrecked already and Steve swallows it, kisses it away as he rolls his hips steadily. Keeps this rhythm that has your eyes rolling back and steady, candied uh-uh-uh’s fall from your lips.

Steve’s left hand holds himself up, palm to the mattress while his right grips tightly at your hip. Your legs open, ankles hooking over the backs of his thighs and your hands are still everywhere, taking in whatever you can. The way he’s stretching you out and filling you up at the same time is intoxicating, euphoria dripping all over you. You’re almost mad that you’d waited so long but it’s all too perfect. And maybe Steve’s been right and waiting is what made this moment the best thing you’ve ever experienced.

His lips are brutal against yours, pushing and pulling. Desperate and hungry. These pretty grunts and moans mushing against your lips.

“Steve,” you whine out, “god…”

He moves to grab your jaw, tilting your head back into the pillows as he moves his hips quicker, harder. Makes your head spin, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter. All you can really do is lay back and take it, mind gone all numb. Your hips search his out, rocking back into him with every thrust. The tip of his cock reaching something fierce and overwhelming inside you. Brushes against this spot so wonderfully that tears prick your eyes, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks.

“So perfect for me,” he mumbles into your mouth, “so pretty, so fuck— fucking gorgeous, princess.”

This wave rushes up on you like nothing before, punches the breath out of your lungs as you grip onto his back, nails scratching down the mole specked skin and Steve groans roughly against your mouth. Your eyes are open but you’re blinded by stars, exploding like fireworks as your eyebrows furrow and you emit a sound so loud, bordering on a cry. It’s like the drop of a roller coaster but a million times more intense, you’re not on this earth for the seconds it happens. Legs wrapping around his waist, crying out during the aftershocks of it. Steve’s panting against your lips, little whines and moans. Pretty sounds that just elongate the utter ecstasy ripping through your body.

“Fuckfuck— shit, princess, I’m gonna—“ Steve pulls out of you abruptly, fingers gripping around his cock as he spills over onto your stomach. Makes a choked and broken sound as he does it, your eyes are on his face. Watching the pleasure contort his features in a way that has you obsessed. He pants, chest heaving as he pushes his hair back. Catches his breath, leans down and kisses you softly before exiting the bed. You whine in protest, reaching your hands out for him.

Steve smiles sweetly at you, grabs a dirty towel from his hamper and moves to wipe his cock. You watch in awe, still coming back down to earth. He moves back towards the bed, using the towel to clean off your stomach. He drops it to the floor and curls up next you, pulling your face to his and kisses you stupid.

“Worth the wait?” he asks, teasingly.

You giggle and say against his lips, “When can we do it again?”

He laughs, pulling your body flush to his as he says, “You’re gonna kill me, princess.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x female reader smut #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x y/n smut

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wayward-dreamer · 5 months

Text

Couldn't Resist

Square/s Filled: Car sex @spnaubingo

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Word count: 915

Summary: Y/N can't resist Dean when he's wearing a suit.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut: dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), car sex, public sex

A/N: Just felt like writing something short, hope you all like it! Happy reading :)

“God, we shouldn’t be doing this…”

“You’re the one who jumped me, sweetheart-”

Dean’s words were interrupted as Y/N’s lips molded to his, the kiss passionate and rough, matching the frenzy of her hands unbuttoning the top of his white shirt, knowing they didn’t have the time or the space to undress completely but she still needed to feel him. They were on a case, both of them talking to witnesses while Sam was doing research back at the motel, and well… when she saw Dean in his FBI suit she really couldn’t resist any longer than she already had since that morning. So on the drive back to the motel, she told him to pull into an alleyway next to a strip mall, climbing into his lap just as he turned off the engine to the car. It was broad daylight, there were side exits to the stores so anyone could walk out and see them, but she really couldn’t give a fuck in that moment. With her boyfriend’s hard cock pressing against her wet panties, the only thing she cared about was freeing him from the confines of his dress pants as much as she could, and getting him inside her immediately.

“What did you tell Sam?” she asked, breathlessly as his lips moved down her neck.

“Baby needed fuel,” he replied between kisses along her neck.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder to see a man walk past the alley, too distracted by his phone. Anyone walking past could easily look down the length of the lane and see them through the windshield.

“We should hurry,” she muttered, reaching for his belt.

Dean smirked as his palms slid up her thighs and over the curve of her ass, her black skirt bunched up around her waist, her own white shirt open down to her stomach with her white lace bra exposed to him, and hopefully only him. He pulled her panties aside just as she undid his pants, wrapping her hand around his incredible girth as she lifted herself up, slightly. There wasn’t any time to waste, so she didn’t, sinking down on him and letting out a rough gasp as his shaft stretched her walls, completely sheathed by them. He held onto her hips and helped her rock against him, her hands clenching his shirt tight as she threw her back, moaning loudly at the feel of his cock pumping in and out of her tight heat.

“Fuck, this is the best idea you’ve ever had, babe,” he groaned, his neck straining, veins pressed against his skin as he laid his head back against the top of the seat. “You look so fucking good like this, love it when my good girl gets so deseprate for me.”

She moaned wantonly as she continued to ride him, his hands pulling her hips down hard and fast, just the way she liked it. The head of his shaft was pressing against her g-spot with every thrust, her walls gripping him tight every time and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold on for too long. Which was probably a good thing because of where they were. Quickies in the Impala were few and far between considering they were always with Sam, so whenever they found some time alone, they had to take it.

“Oh fuck, oh god, Dean,” she whimpered, dropping her back down and staring deep into his green orbs. “Love the way you feel, love feeling your cock inside me…”

“Shit,” he hissed, his lips pulling into a grin as he watched her. “So perfect, look so good riding my cock, sweetheart. You close?”

“Yeah,” she gasped, taking his hand and bringing it between her legs.

Y/N bounced faster on Dean’s lap just as his fingers circled her swollen nub, sounds of pleasure leaving both of them as they chased that blissful release. Her head tipped back as her hand pressed into the top of the car for leverage, her moans growing louder as her hips faltered, and he knew how close she was. With one last moan from both of them, her core tightened, her walls clenching around his throbbing cock, wetness covered him just as spurts of his seed spilled inside her. They both tried catching their breath as they came down from the high, a soft giggle escaping her as her eyes met his.

“Fuck, that was awesome,” he smirked, pulling her down for a searing kiss.

She hummed against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pushed herself closer to him. They were lost in the moment until she briefly opened her eyes, her peripheral view catching someone opening the back door to one of the stores. She ripped her mouth away from Dean’s, leaving him stunned in his seat as she climbed off his lap.

“Someone’s there,” she huffed, quickly fixing her clothes.

That launched him into action as well, making sure he was decent before starting the car, the engine roaring to life. He drove forward, looking through the rearview mirror and grinning as he saw the confused store owner watching them leave. As he pulled out onto the main road, they looked at each other, both of them erupting into laughter. He took her hand in his and brought to his lips, planting a soft kiss to her knuckles as they made their way back to the motel.

His girl was full of surprises and he loved it.

#spnaubingo #Dean x Female!Reader #Dean x Female!Reader Smut #Dean x Female!Reader Drabble #Dean x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Smut #Dean Winchester Drabble #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Supernatural Fanfiction

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andvys · 10 months

Text

Pretty when you cry E.M.

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! Smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, alcohol, age gap, reader is 22, Eddie is 41, cheating (reader gets cheated on by her asshole bf but it’s okay eddie makes her feel much better), slightly dark!Eddie, mentions of Eddie's scars from the upside down, mentions of bullying

Pairing: Older!Eddie Munson x younger!fem!reader

Summary: You came home from college to surprise your boyfriend but walk in on him with another girl. To escape your thoughts and the pain he had caused you, you go to the hideout for a distraction and it might turn into the best night of your life.

Word count: 5.8k+

stranger things masterlist

You always feared that this day would come.

The worst thing that could happen finally happened. There was a reason why you never wanted to fall in love, why you never wanted to give your heart to a person, knowing that they could crush it any time they wanted to but you trusted him. He was a good person, he was a sweet guy, a loving one. He treated you like a princess, he took care of you and spent every possible minute with you, his eyes never strayed away from you. He never entertained other girls, he never seemed interested in anyone but you. It was easy to trust him, to fall in love with him. You felt safe with him, even when you left for college, you knew that nothing bad would happen but now it did.

You came home earlier than you were supposed to. It was finally Christmas break and you were excited to spend time with him, you were excited to surprise him but in the end, you were the one who got surprised.

With a smile on your face, you walked up the stairs to his apartment, you held the keys in your hands that he gave you a few months back, you couldn’t wait for him to scoop you up into his arms and kiss you but you never got that.

You didn’t walk in to him making dinner in the kitchen or to him sitting on the couch and watching one of his favorite horror movies, no, you walked in on him fucking another girl on the couch. She was on top of him, her lips attached to his, they were both moaning loudly, desperately and as though that wasn’t heartbreaking enough, you heard him whimpering her name.

Meg, Meg, Meg…

You were so caught off guard, shocked and hurt that at first, you didn’t realize who she was. Only as he said her name, you realized that she was the girl that used to bully you in school. The girl that used to make your life a living hell until he came along.

“I love you, baby.”

A wave of nausea rushed through you when you heard his words and her reciprocating them.

You wanted to yell at them, to grab her by the hair and drag her off of him so you could slap the daylight out of him but instead, you left as soon as you came.

The tears didn’t come until you were out in the cold again and you were able to catch a breath, you placed your hands on your knees and hunched over, feeling like you were going to throw up but nothing came out, instead a sob fell from your lips.

Your chest was hurting and your stomach churned as your mind replayed the scene you have just witnessed. You squeezed your eyes shut and took deep breaths.

You couldn’t believe it.

You felt so betrayed and hurt. How long has this been going on? How long has been fucking her? How long has he been with her? Clearly, it wasn’t the first time. He loves her. God, he loves her.

You never dealt with pain very well, usually, you would drown it in something.

Tonight, you chose alcohol.

You went to the bar, the only one in town. The one you were never really fond of. The Hideout.

Finn would always drag you here, usually just to get the drugs that the intimidating bartender would sell. The man always sent shivers down your spine, in a way you shouldn’t enjoy. While he always treated your boyfriend coldly, he was always more welcoming towards you. Always sweet and kind, maybe a little too kind.

He scared you a little though, not because of the rumors that people spread around or because of the things he was accused of when he was younger. You never believed those things. You were scared of something that he held in his eyes whenever he looked at you.

Normally, you would never come here without him but there is no him in your life anymore and you desperately need a drink and a good distraction. You walk in after wiping your tears away. The bar isn’t really crowded, it never is. Only a few men occupy some tables.

You sigh as you take your heavy coat off, placing it on the hanger before you make your way towards the counter. Sure enough, Eddie Munson is here. Unlike the last time you had seen him, his beard is now gone, his clean shaven face makes him look younger, though you always liked the scruff. His curls are laying softly on his shoulders, the sleeves of his flannel pulled up to his elbows, showing off his tattoos.

You swallow nervously as you take a seat by the bar, he has yet to notice you, too busy preparing a drink for the man at the end of the bar. Licking your lips, you place your elbows on the counter and straighten your back as you watch him.

You came here for something else, you know it, deep down, you know it.

After placing the drink in front of the man, he turns around, finally, his eyes fall on you. He raises his brows, a smirk pulling at his lips as he throws the towel over his shoulder, making his way over to you. He looks around, probably looking for your boyfriend that he won’t find anywhere here tonight.

“Well hello there,” he smirks as he comes closer to you, he eyes you slowly, “long time no see, sweetheart.”

“Hi,” you breathe, forcing a smile onto your face.

Eddie always made you feel nervous, you never managed to utter many words when he was around him.

“You’re here by yourself?”

“Yes,” you mumble, looking down to avoid eye contact, “can I get a drink?”

“Sure, what can I get you, sweets?”

You look up at him through your lashes, catching him staring at your lips. You blush when he doesn’t look away.

“Just– something strong, please.”

A chuckle falls from his lips, he nods and steps away, “something strong, got it.”

You watch him, staring at his back as he fixes your drink. He is taller than Finn, his shoulders are broader and generally, he is much more attractive, not that you would ever actually admit that to yourself.

“There you go,” he says, placing the drink in front of you. You look at the rings on his fingers, his rough hands, the thick veins. Your eyes move up to his wrist, to the scar on his forearm, the tattoos.

“Thanks,” you whisper. Your fingers brush his when you reach for the drink, your breath hitches in your throat and you tense up a little.

Eddie chuckles to himself as he pulls his hand away, he stares at your flustered face. He always enjoyed the little reactions he got from you whenever he touched you briefly, whether it was a hand on the small of your back, his fingers reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear or his hand touching yours, you would always get flustered under his gaze. Your eyes always flashed with desperation and guilt, you were intrigued by him, he could see it in your eyes, though the guilt of enjoying the way another man could make you feel with such little touches always led you to stepping closer to your boyfriend, reaching for his hand and clinging to him as though he could make you feel what he could.

“You’re welcome,” he smirks, placing his hands on the counter, he watches you a little closer, noticing the red rimmed eyes, the glassiness in them. You cried before you came here. He wonders if it was your boyfriend’s fault. He hopes it was.

“Where’s your little boyfriend?”

You clench your jaw and furrow your brows, tensing up at the mention of him.

Oh yeah, it was definitely his fault.

You shrug, tearing your eyes away from him, you raise the glass to your lips and take a sip of the bitter liquor.

“He’s fucking some other girl.”

Eddie’s eyes widen at your words, clearly, he didn’t expect that. Who in their right mind would cheat on you? Eddie knows that he shouldn’t feel that way about someone who is much younger than him but he can’t help it, the first time he saw you, his heart stopped in his chest, you stole his breath away, you made him shiver. He was at the little flower shop, getting a bouquet for Robin’s birthday when he saw you. You were picking out flowers in your cute little sundress, sunglasses perched on your nose, a soft smile pulled at your lips as you picked out peonies. He was sure that he experienced love at first sight, he stared at you like a fool, unable to move, unable to speak. You didn’t see him though, you were too focused on all the pretty flowers.

You saw him a few days later though, when you walked into the hideout with your boyfriend, that was one year ago. The disappointment he felt was huge when he saw you hand in hand with a man who most likely had it all, money, a fancy car and a bright future, and the right girl.

The right girl that he fucked over.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he sighs, not really knowing what else to say. Eddie was never good with words, he was better with actions. He reaches his hand out, placing it on top of yours.

He would never do this to you.

Your lips part and your breath gets caught in your throat, looking back at him, you see the sympathy in his eyes but also something else.

Tears well up in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, you blink them away and shrug, acting like it doesn’t hurt, acting like he didn’t tear your heart out and stomped all over it.

“He is fucking the girl that used to bully me when I was still in school,” you mumble, “I saw them together, he told her that he loves her.” Your voice wavers a little, you swallow the lump in your throat.

Anger wells up in his chest, yeah, Eddie doesn’t know you very well, your previous interactions were brief but he always felt a little protective of you, maybe a little too much. Always keeping his eyes out to see if anyone is making you uncomfortable when you were here.

“What a fucking asshole,” he mumbles, shaking his head, “you want me to beat him up for you?”

A small chuckle falls from your lips, your eyes crinkle with amusement as you meet his eyes. Eddie smiles at you, clutching your hand tighter.

“No, I can do that, I just needed a moment to myself first.”

He chuckles, “and that’s why you came here?”

You nod.

For the next half hour, you make small talk with him, he asks you about college and you ask him about the latest gossip in Hawkins, knowing that the drunken men always talk about the things their bored housewives tell them.

All throughout your conversation, you feel yourself craving more of his attention.

His eyes skip down to your lips before they find yours again, “I didn’t think I’d ever see you here by yourself, you always looked so scared to be here.”

A shiver runs down your spine, your skin tingles beneath his hand, though you still wrap your fingers around his thumb. You lick your lips and nod.

You were never scared to be here. You were never scared of him. You were always scared of the way you felt around him. The way he made that fire burn in your lower belly. The way he made your heart stutter. The way he made your skin feel so hot and tingly. The way he made you squeeze your thighs together. The way he made you crave him.

“Why’s that?” He asks as he looks at you with a smirk on his face and a knowing look in his eyes. He knows damn well why you were so afraid to be here but he still wants to hear you say it.

There was always a tension between the two of you. You longed for him just as much as he always longed for you. The eye contact you held was always special.

“I wasn’t scared to be here,” you admit with a shaky voice.

“No?” He mumbles, tilting his head.

Beneath the dim light, you see the very slight wrinkles on his face, the laugh lines that are barely visible, Eddie looks very good for his age, he is only 41 but some other men his age look much older. His skin is rough against yours and he is tall, much taller and much older, something about that, makes you crave him.

Your relationship is clearly over and even if you still have to go through it, to realize everything fully, to deal with it, you finally allow yourself to feel what you have always felt deep down.

Your attraction for the older man.

You shake your head, “no,” you mumble, you take another sip of your drink, some of the liquor dripples down your chin, you put the glass down. Eddie watches the single droplet rolling down to your jaw, he reaches his hand out, cupping your cheek with his large hand, he catches the drop with his thumb.

Your lips part in surprise, your breath hitches in your throat as you feel his touch, he stares at your lips, bringing his thumb up to your bottom lip, he swipes the liquid off and looks back into your eyes with a darkened look in them, suddenly, he wraps his lips around his thumb, licking the liquor off his finger.

He smirks, satisfaction runs through him when he sees the look on your face.

“Then why did you look so scared?” He asks, continuing your conversation.

“Huh?”

He chuckles, licking his lips. You are still staring at his lips with desire in your eyes.

“Why did you look so scared whenever you were here?” He asks, looking over your shoulder to see some customers leave, he waves at them, giving them a small smile. That only leaves the man sitting in the booth by the window. Eddie redirects his eyes to you, “were you scared of me?”

When you don’t answer right away, Eddie finally throws the towel on the counter and leaves his spot, he makes his way towards you and suddenly, you grow more nervous, more intrigued, more desperate.

When you were in pain, dealing with personal struggles or looking for a distraction, you always opted for harmless things, books, movies, baking, writing but as you got older, you realized that, that, simply wasn’t enough. Sometimes you needed drinks, weed and parties but even that was never the right thing. There was an itch you needed to scratch and right now, you realized what you need. What the right thing is. It’s right in front of you.

The right thing– the right one.

It’s the one with the dark curls and the even darker eyes, the rough and intimidating looking man that is secretly a soft one, deep down. The one that hides behind this dark facade to make himself look more intimidating, to protect himself, to make himself look less vulnerable. He is what you need.

He sits down in front of you, close enough for you to smell his cologne, the whiskey he probably had before you walked in. You can feel his energy, you can feel the way he feels about you, the way he always felt about you.

Maybe you came here for a reason, maybe you came here because you knew that the distraction you needed– you wanted wasn’t the drinks, you came here for something you always wanted.

Him.

You always wanted him. That’s why you were so afraid to be here, you were scared to lose control, scared of what you would do if he made a move on you– would you stop him? Probably not.

You certainly won’t stop him now.

“No, Eddie.” You whisper. Your drink is long forgotten, you are intoxicated by him. He sits close to you, towering over you with his tall frame, his knee is pushed between your thighs and his hand finds it’s way to your knee.

His heart flutters at the way you say his name.

You stare into each other’s eyes with a sense of longing. Neither of you say anything, he waits for you to continue but you stare at him, at his lips, at his thick neck, you stare at him for what feels like forever, not moving, not speaking.

And he waits for you. He keeps his hand on your knee, squeezing it a little.

When the last customer finally leaves, you decide to show him instead. You place your feet on the floor, standing up, you step towards him. His legs are spread, you step in between them and look up at him with a needy gaze. Instinctively, he places his hands on your waist as you cup his cheeks.

You’ve been waiting to cross that line and he has been waiting for you to cross it.

You take a shaky breath and before you decide against it, you slam your lips against his, kissing him, like you always wanted to.

He smirks and pulls you tightly against him as he kisses you back right away. His hands leave your waist, instead he wraps his arms around your shoulders and hugs you tightly as he deepens the kiss with a loud moan.

God, you wish you had done that much earlier.

Your pain, your broken heart is long forgotten now that you finally feel what it’s like to be kissed by a man.

His lips are rough against yours, he kisses you like no one ever kissed you before. Rough, passionate, delicate. He makes your stomach burn with need. Wetness pools in your panties.

His tongue meets yours and the kiss gets deeper and deeper, rougher and more desperate. He gets up and picks you up with ease, without breaking the kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist and hold onto his neck as you smile into the kiss. Eddie carries you over to one of the tables, placing you on top of it. You pull him flush against you.

He groans as he feels you grinding against him.

“Baby… fuck, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, “hold on,” he chuckles as he presses another kiss to your lips, “gotta– fuck.. I have to lock the door, hold on.” He pats your cheek after giving you another kiss before he pulls away from you, rushing around the counter to get the kiss, he keeps his eyes on you.

You smirk at him, spreading your legs wider, you push your dress up, sliding it further up your thighs.

“Wait for me,” he grunts as he rushes towards the door, locking it up quickly and turning the main lights off, leaving the dim lights from the bar on.

When he is back in front of you, you grab his hand and pull him back to you, “do you want to fuck me, Eddie?”

His eyes darken, blood rushes to his dick.

“You have no idea how bad I want you, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he cups your cheek, “but are you sure that you want it?” He asks, sweetly. “I don’t want you to regret anything–”

“Shut up and fuck me, old man.”

He looks impressed, words caught in his throat and a smirk tugging at his lips.

Neither of you ever expected this to happen, especially not like this. But this is how you end up under him that night. He kisses you roughly, leaving your lips puffy by the time he makes his way down to your neck, he sucks on your skin, leaving a trail of hickeys down to your shoulder after pushing the sleeves of your dress down your arm.

“You’re such a pretty little thing, y/n,” he murmurs against your skin, “first time I saw you, I thought you were an angel.”

You gasp, eyes closing when he pushes his free hand under your dress, he toys with your thin tights before he rips them apart, earning another gasp from you, “‘m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll buy you new ones, I promise,” he says as he finally touches you.

You place your hand on his shoulder and the other on the table behind you as you tilt your head to give him more access to your neck.

“Eddie,” you whimper.

His lips feel so soft yet so rough against your skin, his other hand cups your pussy, feeling how wet you are for him makes him groan in pleasure.

“I’m not gonna lie, when you walked in with that prick, I was disappointed,” he admits as he places his fingertips against your clit, rubbing you over your panties, “shit, I wanted you from the first moment I saw you, baby.”

You gasp, lips parting at both his words and his touch. You buck your hips up, trying to grind yourself against his hand.

“Y-You did?” You whimper as you push your hand into his hair, gripping his curls.

“Yes, fuck yes,” he grunts, “pretty thing like you deserves a real man.”

He pulls away from your neck, staring at it for a moment, with a sly smirk, he admires the bites and hickeys he left for him to see. Then his eyes meet yours and his heart softens.

You look vulnerable but also needy.

“Show me how real men fuck,” you whisper, licking your lips.

“Gladly baby,” he smirks, pecking your lips one more time before he pushes you down. You lay your back flat against the table, swallowing nervously as you wait for him to touch you. Eddie bunches your dress up at your waist and pushes your tights down your legs. His eyes flash with hunger when he sees the black lacy thong you’re wearing, he swallows, laying his large hand on your lower stomach, he looks into your eyes, “you wore that for him, huh?” He asks as his fingers reach for the band, “you wanted to surprise him?” He asks with a hint of jealousy in his voice.

You don’t want to talk about him, you don’t even want to think about him, not when you finally have what you want.

“It’s all for you now.”

“Damn right, baby.”

He rips them off of you, chuckling darkly at your little squeal, he brings the panties up to his face, sniffing them, he closes his eyes and moans.

“Eddie!” You gasp as your face flushes with embarrassment.

He only chuckles at your reaction, pushing the panties in his back pocket, he grabs your soft legs and throws them over his shoulders as he leans down.

Suddenly, you push yourself up on your elbows and look up at him in surprise, “w-what are you–” Before you can even finish your sentence, Eddie licks a stripe up your wet pussy, moaning filthily at your taste.

You gasp, your eyes roll back and you instantly reach for his hair, grabbing it roughly as you feel his tongue on your clit, “o-oh my god!”

He smirks against you, pushing his tongue against you as he eases a finger inside of you.

“H-Holy fuck– Eddie! W-What–”

Your stupid boyfriend never ate you out before, he can tell by your reaction, by the gasps and the moans and the confused look on your face that quickly fades away when he begins to fuck you with his long fingers.

“E-Eddie.. Shit, that feels so good,” you whimper, “please don’t stop, please!” You beg.

Pride rushes through him, he gets to make you feel good, he gets to touch you, he gets to be the first– and last, who eats you out, who tastes you on his tongue, who makes you moan, who makes you feel good.

Eddie feels his cock throbbing in his pants, his heart beating fastly. Too many nights he has dreamed of this.

He moans so loudly against you, sending vibrations through you.

You watch him as he eats you out, as he replaces his fingers with his tongue and fucks you with it, all while he looks into your eyes. No one had ever done this to you.

“You taste so fucking good, baby,” he grunts against you, “gonna take you home and make you sit on my face later.”

Your stomach flutters, your pussy clenches around his tongue and you whimper at both his words and the feeling of his tongue inside of you.

“E-Eddie!”

Your stomach is burning, tears are pricking at your eyes as he sticks his fingers back inside of you all while his tongue is still buried deep inside of your wet cunt.

“Y-You are.. you’re so good, E-Eddie.”

He groans against you, fucking you deeply with his fingers. You cum without a warning, your orgasm crashes over you so suddenly, you are grabbing at his hair and squeezing your eyes shut, holding your breath as you cum on his tongue and around his fingers.

He laps up all your juices, enjoying the way you whimper and squeal when he licks around your sensitive clit, you jolt up and grab his hair tighter, trying to push him away. He chuckles, the look on his face shows you that he is smug about making you cum, knowing damn well that your boyfriend never got to do it.

“Taste yourself,” he says, holding his fingers out for you, “wrap your pretty lips around my fingers, princess.”

You push yourself up and do it, you part your lips for him and he wastes no second to stick them into your mouth. You wrap your lips around his sticky fingers and swirl your tongue around them, putting on a show for the older man, you moan and take them in a little deeper. You know what he thinks about.

He groans and stares at you in awe as he thinks about the way you would look on your knees, how pretty you would look with your lips wrapped around his cock, how your eyes would tear up and how you’d moan.

“Mhmm.”

“Fuck,” he grunts.

You release his fingers with a pop! “fuck me, please..” You whine.

He puts your legs back on the table and pushes himself back up, he grabs your waist and smashes his lips against yours, already addicted to the way your lips feel against his. He pushes the rest of your sleeves down, you help him, taking it off and releasing your breasts as you push the dress down to your stomach.

“Fuck,” he grunts as he cups your boobs, “pretty fucking tits,” he moans as he leans down to kiss them, rolling your nipples with his fingers.

You look so beautiful, sexy, unreal.

“Ah! Eddie.. Please, stop teasing, I want your cock inside of me,” you whine.

His dick is so hard, he feels as though his jeans are about to burst but he can’t help but tease you a little further as he continues to play with your nipples, “how long have you been thinking about this?” He asks.

“I-I don’t know,” you whisper, truthfully. Your mind always took you back to him but you always refused to let those thoughts in. You reach out to him, trying to take his flannel off, he lets you. He drops the red material to the ground but when you reach for the hem of his shirt, he grips your hands and stops you. His eyes flash with vulnerability, “not my shirt, sweetheart.”

You frown as you stare at him, “w-why not?”

He blinks, touching your hands gently, “I got some pretty nasty scars,” he admits.

Oh, Eddie.

“I-I don’t mind,” you whisper, “but you don’t have to show me.”

He smiles at you, pinching your chin, he brings you closer and kisses your lips, “someday, okay?” He says like he already knows that this is no one time thing.

“Okay,” you whisper.

You unbuckle his belt and help him push his jeans and boxers down, eyeing him hungrily. His cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. Your eyes widen and you can’t even stop the gasp from escaping. Eddie is big. Bigger than your cheating boyfriend. His hair is trimmed, you catch a glimpse of his pale skin on his lower stomach, a sliver of a scar peeking out from beneath his shirt, it makes your heart stop but you tear your eyes away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

“Y-You’re so big.”

Eddie smirks and cups your cheeks, “it’s okay, baby. I know you can take it.”

You clench around nothing, you feel yourself getting wetter at his words, at his touch, at the look in his eyes.

“You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Mhmm,” you nod hastily.

He smirks, “that’s right, you’re never going back to that prick, I’ll make sure of that.”

You whine and pull him closer, looking down desperately as he finally grabs his dick, sliding it through your dripping folds.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he grunts as watches the way your pussy flutters, he slides it into you slowly, raising his head to look at your face, he keeps one hand on your cheek. The look in your eyes is needy, your face scrunches up in pain as he inches into you. He is concerned but he would be lying if he said that he doesn’t enjoy the way you are squirming beneath him.

“F-Fuck,” you whimper in pain as he stretches you open. “Do you want me to stop?” He asks, eyeing you in concern.

You shake your head, “no! No… please don’t stop,” you whisper as you dig your heels into his ass and take him even deeper, making him moan in pleasure, “j-just fuck me, please, fuck me!”

Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice, he lets you adjust for a moment before he begins to roll his hips. He pulls out and slides back in, easing you into it and when you are finally used to his size and his length, he puts one hand on your hip and the other on your boob as he starts thrusting harsher. His rings dig into your skin but you don’t mind, you like knowing that he will leave marks.

He moans louder and louder, just like you. You both get lost in the feeling, loving the way you feel with each other.

“God, your pussy feels like heaving, y/n,” he moans as he fucks you deeper.

“Y-You too, you feel so good.”

“Yeah?” He breathes, smirking darkly, “you like the way I stretch you open, huh?”

“Yes!” You squeal, “I love it!”

He moans as he feels you clenching around him, the movement causes him to fuck you rougher and deeper.

“You needed a real man to fuck you, huh?”

Tears well up in your eyes, you hold him tighter against you and bite your lip as you nod at his words.

“Stupid boy didn’t know how to treat you, how to fuck you properly,” he grunts as he pulls you flush against him so he can kiss you, “I can fuck you better, baby.”

He feels so good inside of you, you feel every vein as he pounds your pussy roughly. His hair tickles your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. You never let your boyfriend fuck you without a condom, yet you let him and you would let him, again and again.

“H-Harder,” you whimper.

“Harder?” He chuckles against your lips, “you’re insatiable, little thing.”

He pushes you down, slamming you back against the hard surface, he grabs your legs and places them on his shoulders, looking down at you with a wicked smile as he starts to fuck you from a new angle, one that allows you to feel him even deeper.

Your eyes widen for a moment, a loud squeal leaving your lips as you feel more of him. You grab the edge of the table tightly, tears blur your vision but you still look at up at him, at the older man who fucks you like you always craved to be fucked.

Pleasure takes over his body and awe flashes in his eyes as he stares at you, as he watches his cock pounding into your squelching cunt.

He holds your legs tightly against his chest, he kisses your calves and watches the way your boobs bounce, the way you breathe heavily and grip the table as you moan and cry for him.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

He hears your moans, your sweet and sultry voice. It makes his dick throb and his heart soar.

“You look so pretty when you cry.”

Your walls flutter around him, your moans get higher, your eyes threaten to flutter shut but you don’t want to look away from him. He looks so pretty.

He starts thrusting slower but harder and deeper.

Your moans turn into gasps while his turn into needy grunts.

“Feel so fucking good around my cock, so fucking perfect,” he moans, “never letting you go again, gonna make you mine.”

“P-Please…”

“You want that huh?” He smirks, “you want to be mine?”

“S-So bad!”

He knows that your words come from desperation, you are so lost in the feeling, you would tell him anything right now but it still makes his heart flutter.

“Mine, you’re fucking mine now, sweetheart.”

The dark look in his eyes should scare you but it doesn’t, if anything, it brings you closer to the edge, it makes your cunt flutter around him, it makes you crave him even more. Now that you have finally let him in, you will let him do anything.

“Gonna fill you up with my cum, breed your little pussy and make you mine forever,” he grunts as his moans get louder.

He fucks you so roughly, he steals your breath away, you don’t even know what you’re gasping for at this point but when he places his fingers on your clit and rubs it fastly, you cum hard, gushing around his thick cock as he gives a few more thrusts before he cums too, releasing himself inside of you and painting your walls white with his thick cum.

He places your legs back down carefully, not pulling out just yet as he leans down for a kiss.

You whimper and shake, the feeling of his cum inside of you, of his cock still in your pussy sending waves of pleasure through your body.

He claimed you, in so many ways tonight.

He marked you up, he kissed you in a way that made you addicted to him, he came inside of you.

His lips move smoothly and slowly against yours, he touches you gently, sighing softly as he kisses you sweeter than he did before.

“You’re mine now,” he whispers, “forever.”

His words are sweet but there is also something so dark about them and you might love it a little too much.

“I’ll take care of you now, okay?”

“Okay, Eddie.”

#older!eddie munson #older!eddie x reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fics #dark!eddie munson

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nycreid · 3 months

Text

Lover

spencer reid x popstar!reader

H/T means hometown

part 1

SPENCER IS STANDING IN THE VIP TENT next to many celebrities but as Y/N knows them, her best friends, Lily Rose-Depp, Gigi Hadid, and more. Spencer feels out of place, this isn’t his usual Saturday night, until he started dating Y/N. Spencer did get acquainted with her friends, they’re easy to talk to, this just isn’t his scene.

Spencer is dressed in concert merch, a pastel pink hoodie that reads ‘THE DAYLIGHTS TOUR’ and a pair of black trousers, again, something he usually doesn’t wear but for Y/N he would wear a garbage bag if it meant it would support her.

As Spencer waits for Y/N to come out and perform, he sees a fan trying to throw something into the tent. Spencer leans closer and sees it’s a bracelet- and it’s for him, he takes the colorful beaded bracelet from the girl and thanks her. The bracelet reads “KING OF HER HEART” in white beaded letters with pink and yellow beads surrounding them. Spencer smiles and blushes, knowing the bracelet is a reference to her song about him, “King Of My Heart” , Spencer slips on the bracelet proudly.

“Did you just get your first friendship bracelet?” A voice appeared next to him, it was Y/N’s mom. Her parents turned up to the concert as well, it was in her hometown, of course they weren’t going to miss it.

“Y-yeah I did.” Spencer nods nervously, he’s talked to her mom many times. Why is he so nervous?

“You’ll have a wrist full by the end of the night, it’s something you get used to.” Y/M/N chuckles and shows her wrist, she’s already accumulated at least 10 and the concert has barely started.

Spencer chuckles and hears cheers and screams before he can reply to Y/M/N and notices Y/N is rising onto the stage. The lights illuminate her glowing skin and make her eyes pop in the best way possible, the stage design doesn’t overpower her but make her stand out. Spencer is entranced and she’s barely been on stage for 30 seconds.

“WELCOME TO THE DAYLIGHT’S TOUR! It feels good to be back in my hometown!” Y/N giggles into the microphone, “To start off, I just want to say thank you for joining me today and taking time out of your day to attend.” Y/N smiles.

More cheers erupt as she speaks and you can see her grinning ear to ear, Spencer smiles as she speaks and is in love with how passionate she is about her music and her fans but he can’t help but feel hot and overstimulated by the humid weather and loud cheers.

“Now I have a question for you H/T, have you ever been in love?” Y/N alluding to her hit song, Lover (also written about Spencer). The backtrack to Lover starts playing and she brings out her guitar and the backup dancers and singers pool onto the stage.

Spencer blushes as her friends in the VIP tent tease Spencer and nudge him, ‘This is your song man!’, he even heard but he’s too out of it to notice someone said anything.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til January and this is our place, we make the rules.” Y/N sings and strums on her guitar as she searches for a certain face in the crowd, before looking over in the VIP tent and seeing a familiar tall curly haired man. Y/N practically lightens up even more as she sees him, she maintains eye contact with him while singing his song. She’s basically singing it to him.

Spencer blushes as he keeps the eye contact, he feels his worries go away as she sings (basically to him). The fans singing along and the cheering tune out as he can only focus on her, he feels more calmer as he listens to her soothing voice. How did he get so lucky?

“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand, I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover.” Y/N sings and very obviously points to him and casually goes back to strumming as if she didn’t turn Spencer into a pink blushing mess.

“You’re as pink as your hoodie, aww!” Gigi giggles and snaps a picture for Y/N to show later, Spencer chuckles and feels his heart grow for Y/N by the minute.

The rest of the concert goes by with long flirty glances by her, more eye contact, and Spencer recording half of it to put in his Y/N 💝 photo album. The concert finally ends and Spencer’s wrist has gained 15 brackets on each wrist and 20 more in the tote bag he brought for Y/N with her ‘after concert essentials’.

As the fans depart from the stadium, Spencer, her parents, and her closest friends go backstage to see her. Y/N runs backstage, not even taking out her microphone and earpiece, immediately running into Spencer’s arms.

“I missed you! Sorry, I’m kinda sweaty right now.” Y/N mutters into his chest with her arms wrapped tightly around him.

“It’s okay, honey. You were amazing up there! You took my breath away.” Spencer kisses the top of her head and rubs his hands on her back. Spencer is a germaphobe but he doesn’t pull away from her, he doesn’t mind her germs.

Her parents and her friends pull up in a golf cart later and she converses with them and pulls them into hugs as well.

“I think it’s time to call it a night!” Y/N sighs and says her goodbyes to her friends and parents. “See you guys tomorrow!” She’s performing one more day in her hometown.

“Ready to go?” Y/N takes her hand in Spencer’s, and he nods.

—

IN HER HOTEL SUITE, Spencer and Y/N are comfortably cuddling in bed after a fresh shower together and in pajamas and are on twitter looking over the videos after today. Y/N would be staying at her parents house since she’s in her hometown but her team suggested a hotel room so transport and makeup is faster and easier.

Y/N giggles, “Wait look at that tweet!” She clicks on it. The tweet reads ‘he is DOWN BAD but like i would be too…’ followed by a video of Spencer watching Y/N perform with a lovestruck smile.

Spencer chuckles a little embarrassed, “Like this is new news? Everybody knows I’m in love with you, Y/N L/N.” Spencer pecks a kiss onto your forehead.

Y/N blushes and playfully swats him away, “Oh stop it.” She bites her lip, trying to hide that painfully obvious smile.

“No matter how hard you try to hard your smile, your pink cheeks sell you out.” Spencer lightly pinches her cheek and laughs.

Spencer noticed Y/N rubbing the King Of Her Heart bracelet he got, “I promise to be delicate with your heart for as long as I live.” Y/N smiles and brushes a kiss against his cheek, “I know.” She says with certainty.

—

lmk what you guys think!! pls tell me other songs popstar!reader would make if u guys are getting tired of the taylor swift songs + references! and don’t be afraid to send asks 😉😜 AND TYSM FOR SO MUCH LOVE ON THE LAST POPSTAR!READER FIC

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #mgg fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fic recs #dr spencer reid #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x popstar!reader #Spotify

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theonewiththefanfics · 4 months

Text

Love Conquers All (one-shot)

Synopsys: The wedding is finally afoot. Astarion and his love have fought for it tooth and nail, but could there be more to life after happily-ever-after?

Set after the main events of BG3 This is a follow up to Homecoming (one-shot). Would probably advise reading it beforehand :)

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, maybe a bit of angst, insecure Astarion, but just pure teeth-rotting fluff

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, mentions of SA

Word count: 8875

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

Astarion knew ever since he met Y/N, she was the only one he could imagine spending the rest of his life with. They had gone through hells and back for one another, quite literally going head-to-head with a devil. They’d fought for their happily ever after tooth and nail, and now, the biggest day of their lives (yet) was here.

The vampire spawn woke up from his trance jittery and excited for what was to come. It had been ages since he’d felt this way, such joy while looking forward to what the day had installed for him because he was finally going to marry the love of his life.

Their day would be perfect, Astarion had done everything to ensure it. He’d taken to wedding planning like a cat to cream, making sure that once their day arrived, even the smallest detail would be flawless.

It had taken them two years to settle on a time of the year, let alone a date, but that had given him enough time to grow the flowers for the arrangements that now decorated their house, fussing with them like one would with a child (and sometimes threatening a certain rose if it didn’t grow the way he wanted it to). He even invertedly created a couple of new variates in the process, but those were specifically relegated as the flowers Y/N would weave in her hair for the ceremony.

He had even meticulously studied cookery books, having his parents along with his love be his taste testers, seeing he couldn’t really enjoy eating human food, but he’d be damned if something disgusting would be served in his house, no less on his wedding day. Unless it had a ten out of ten approval from everyone involved, Astarion scrapped the recipe and started over. He was fairly certain the caterers hated him because he’d made them prepare the food before and until they got it absolutely right, he was on their asses day and night.

But if he had to pick a favourite process throughout all the planning, it was when Y/N had come to him late one night as he burrowed himself in his sowing room and requested, that he design and make her wedding dress. Astarion almost got down on his knees in reverence as she looked at him with such tender eyes. And, well, let’s just say – during fittings, his hands might’ve skimmed the inside of her thighs on more than one occasion, and his head might’ve slipped below the skirt to taste between her legs, wholly unprofessional.

Oh, and that dream of a house with a grand library, where shelves of books stretched from one corner to the other, and a large ballroom to host parties until daylight broke – no longer was it a simple dream, but rather his reality. Not only that, he could hear people fussing all across the house as hired staff prepared final details and decorations for the ceremony.

The new house, or let’s be honest, the manor, Astarion and Y/N lived in, had not come easy though. He’d pretty much brought his lover to the end of her wits when they’d gone on the search for their dream home. In the end, it boiled down to her threatening to make them live in the forest like Halsin, sleeping on the hard ground, if he didn’t come to a decision.

Astarion was aghast at the suggestion, crossing his arms and pouting hard. “Why are you so upset about this?” He couldn’t understand what the big issue was with him being so picky. “We’re looking for the place to start our new lives in! It has to be no less than absolute excellence! Do you not want that?”

“Of course, I do!” Y/N rolled her eyes, putting her half-drunk wine glass on the bedside table and shifting her body to completely face him. “But nothing is perfect in this world, Star.”

When he narrowed his scarlet gaze at her, she huffed and shifted to sit on her knees, cupping his face between her palms. “Nothing in life is without its flaws, but that’s the beauty of it all. It gives us a chance to grow and change. And it’s the same with a house. Floors are fixable. Sofas and divans can be reupholstered. Walls can be repainted, those dilapidated wallpapers ripped off, hells we can knock the wall down if we want to… but we will never find our perfect home if we don’t put the work in and make it ourselves.”

Y/N’s soft thumb ventured up to smooth out the grumpy lines that had appeared on Astarion’s forehead. “If you want perfect, you have to do the work to make it so. Because that last house we saw, the one you said could be ours, if it didn’t have those stains on the table or that feeling wallpaper or the hole in the roof that needs fixing – that was someone else’s perfect home because they made it that way.”

Astarion scrunched his nose. “Did a shitty job, that’s for sure.”

If Y/N could roll her eyes any harder, he was sure they’d get stuck in the back of the skull like that. “My point is, we have to make it that way. Yes, the whole process will be long and tedious and I’m fairly certain, there will be moments where we want to kill each other, because, gods forbid, I want the blackout curtains to be emerald not burgundy. But none of that will matter because it will be ours… what can be more perfect than that?”

The vampire always had a comment on the tip of his tongue, he always had a sarcastic remark or some sort of critique to offer, but to this, he had nothing to reply, as he pondered the words.

Y/N tilted her head, a smile blooming on her lovely mouth. “I know you want everything to be exactly how you see it in your head, right from the very start. I know you don’t want to fight anymore, and gods, my love, you don’t deserve to fight for anything, but this isn’t it… this is change. And I think you’re more scared than annoyed at all the little things that might need mending.”

Astarion averted his gaze, looking past Y/N and to the window, the bright light of the moon illuminating the woods beyond. From the corner of the eye, he could see her engagement ring, the ruby glinting like a star in the sky. A finger brushed over his brow, soothing him. “I think you’re nervous to go after what you want, so you’re trying to find any possible reason as to why every house we’ve viewed has had something unfixable to it.”

Closing his eyes, Astarion leaned into her touch. “I hate it when you can see through me like that.” He hated to admit it. It felt like some sort of weakness to be seen so clearly, but he also knew Y/N would never judge him for his fears. But it was still hard to voice them. “I just – I’m scared it will be different.”

“It will be.” She shrugged. “But different doesn’t mean it’ll be bad.”

He didn’t seem convinced though as his mind and attention drifted off, and she had to tilt his chin towards her, a kiss to his forehead bringing him back into the moment. “My Star, we can always stay right where we are. I love this house. And as long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter where we make our home.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, my love,” Astarion let out an undignified scoff. “As darling as this place is, I still want that library. And, well, maybe a tailoring room would be lovely. And I can’t say I would be opposed to a walk-in closet, instead of that little dresser we have now.”

More and more his lips turned into a smile and his gaze lightened as they went on until the morning dawned, talking and mapping out what their perfect abode would be like. They talked about the colours of the walls, where they’d like to hang paintings and how many mattresses their bed should have. Astarion insisted on at least three, so it would feel like resting on a cloud. Y/N thought it was a bit ridiculous, but if that was what he wanted, it’s what he would get. As long as he promised her to have separate duvets, the cover hog that he was.

They settled on a manor near the city, but far enough from the crowds to still keep some sort of privacy. She had been right about the restorations being long and mind-numbingly taxing and took them over a year and a half to return the manor to its former glory. All of their funds sank into it, and as Y/N had also warned – there came a moment where it seemed like they would rip one another’s heads off, having to spend a night in separate rooms. But now they got to relish in the fruits of their labour as the ballroom Astarion had manifested was being transformed into their wedding chapel.

He lazily stretched out his limbs, curling around his still-sleeping love. If he’d had a tail, the cat that he was, he would weave it over Y/N’s middle and curl it, trying to pull her closer if possible.

The woman grumbled something unintelligible, tightening the hold she had on one of the four pillows she had.

“Good morning, my wife. Our big day is here. Time to get up.” Gently, he brushed strands of wild hair from her face, placing them behind her ear, to which he leaned down and gave a playful nibble. To Astarion’s delight, he felt a shiver run down her spine, her toes curling against where she’d pressed them to his calf.

“Not your wife yet,” Y/N grumped, turning so that she could hide her face in the crook of his neck, tickling the sensitive skin there with warm puffs of breath. “And your bride needs her beauty sleep unless you wish for her to look like a troll at the altar. Didn’t give me much of it last night.”

A wicked grin formed on his mouth, one incisor lightly biting on her earlobe. “I didn’t hear you complaining though. In fact, I didn’t hear you say anything but my name.”

Teasing fingers brushed against her ribs and the underside of her breasts, a breath hitching in Y/N’s chest. When he splayed his hand against her stomach, she hummed in pleasure, the sound reverberating through his chest and seeping into his bones.

Her own palms moved from hugging Astarion’s side to his back, nails softly scratching up and down the skin there – so very tenderly over the scars, but with a bit of a bite right above his rear. If he could purr, he would be, but alas, he just moaned and melted like an icicle in the sun.

It was almost tempting to just stay in the bed like that, twining together and just relishing in one another’s touch.

“When are your parents getting here?” Y/N yawned and pressed a kiss to his collarbone. “Your mother promised to help me with the dress and hair.”

“Right as the sun goes down. We should have plenty of time before the moon is high.”

They had decided on a night-time wedding, so the following celebrations could be moved outside into the lavish gardens Astarion had so lovingly created. He may not be able to walk in the sun anymore, but he’d be damned if he didn’t enjoy at least the moonlight. Besides, daytime weddings were so casual, and he was anything but.

He rested his palm in between Y/N’s breasts, but he just kept it there, didn’t try and stray any further. He simply wanted to feel how her heart beat against his palm, the rhythm a steadying and grounding feeling, and it somewhat calmed his fluttery nerves.

“Then we have a few more hours to sleep,” came Y/N’s slurred response as she hitched a leg over his naked hip, but she didn’t try to go any further either. “And you are not getting out of this bed, my personal pillow.”

Astarion smiled at her words and kissed her forehead. He’d been smiling an awful lot since he met her. “Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

And even though he itched to go downstairs and supervise every single thing, he allowed the peace that came with being next to Y/N to settle over him as well. It was their day. His day. And starting it off with his little human sweetheart wrapped around him like a vine, keeping him close to her, was nothing short of wonderful.

At some point, she did fall asleep again, Astarion’s movements as his deft fingers massaged the back of her head, lulling her to dreamland. His mind drifted a bit but remained more alert than when he tranced, wandering to how exactly he’d gotten to a moment where in just a few little hours he’d become someone’s husband.

Not only did he have Y/N, but he had his parents to relish in the moment with. He had friends, something that was competently out of the question for two hundred years, and all of them would be arriving to witness the most joyous day of his life. Him! With friends! He even had a true sister, something that’d surprised even him.

That had come about when Astarion had ventured into the Underdark once and reconnected with Darylia. At first, he’d thought there would be too much bad blood between them, no pun intended. It’s why he’d strayed away from the region after he’d freed the rest of the seven thousand spawn from Cazador. Too many painful memories bound them, but instead of admonishments, he found comfort.

He’d bumped into Dalyria at a tavern as he was tracking down an artefact. Astarion was nothing short of astonished when she invited him to a tavern for a drink. The conversation was awkward at first, but as they talked more and more, she seemed to be actually happy for him as he confirmed he was still with Y/N, had a little house by the forest to call their own and spent his days keeping in touch with the party that’d formed during the tadpole adventure while trying to get a sowing business off the ground. She was even more ecstatic to hear when Astarion announced he was engaged.

Dal had a wistful smile on her face. “I would be a liar if I said I didn’t envy you, but… you deserve it. All that happiness… after what Cazador put you through, you deserve all that’s good.”

He didn’t want to, but a ball formed in his throat at her words. “Cazador wasn’t kind to any of us.”

“No,” she mussed. “But you did free us from him. And when you had the chance to take his power for yourself, to become the most powerful vampire in existence, you didn’t. You allowed us to go out there and regain the years we lost under his control. To make our own lives. For that, you deserve only the best.”

A snort escaped him as he swirled the remains of his wine. “Y/N would say not committing mass murder is quite a low bar, if that’s why I’m worthy of happiness.”

“Maybe, but no one would fault you had you gone for it.”

“Maybe…” Astarion pondered. “But I would not have been worthy of Y/N, then. That is for sure.”

Dalyria clinked her glass of blood against his before emptying it, and he was glad he had not been drinking himself as he sure would have choked on the drink. “Will you teach me how to find love? I – I think I’d like to find what you two have. Become… worthy of having it.”

Astarion didn’t know how to respond, but ultimately said he could only try, yet unless the change came from within, there wasn’t much he could do. And the hardest part wouldn’t be learning how to find love, but learning how to love oneself. Only then you could learn how to love others.

“Seems awfully tedious,” Dalyria’s brow had furrowed.

He chuckled and nodded. “It is. But I’ve learned, as much as it can be boring, it’s worth it in the end.”

It had taken time for the vampire to start the process of self-acceptance and processing the trauma, but Astarion was right there by her side, and now, she would be by his, a partner of her own next to her, a human at that, as he tied the knot.

Y/N’s nose scrunched in her sleep as their blissful moment was interrupted by a bell chiming through the house. She grabbed a pillow and smushed it over her head hitting him in the face in the process. “We should’ve eloped.”

“My love, you know as well as I do, our dear friends would’ve hunted us down like prey and dragged us before an altar by the ears. And honestly – I would help them with that.”

When they had rolled out the announcement of their engagement, Astarion’s mother helping them write beautiful little cards to send to their party most had actually shown up to congratulate them in person.

Karlach had been the first one to arrive, banging on the door to let her in, seemingly bursting with excitement. “If my engine wasn’t fixed, I think I would have levelled a whole block when I got the card!” She jumped up and down as she smothered them in a hug.

The second the Tiefling reluctantly released Y/N and Astarion from her grasp, Shadowheart appeared, a bit more subdued in the way she showed her happiness, but still very much so thrilled. She’d even brought along a bottle of wine, as such an event had to be celebrated.

Gale along with Tara teleported right into the living from straight from Waterdeep, a chest of tomes with him, a gift for the library Astarion wanted.

“I even cancelled today’s lectures, and my students were so delighted, they also got you something.” He extended a smaller box, a gorgeous set of feather pens inside. “A thanks for the day off and congratulations on the engagement.”

Wyll, now Grand Duke, joined the festivities right as the sun started its descent.

“I would’ve come sooner, but duties call.”

“Ever the honourable man.” Astarion hugged the once Blade of Frontiers. “I’m lucky Y/N doesn’t care much for honour, otherwise I would be fighting a losing battle.”

“It’s all the blood loss,” she chimed in, hugging Wyll as he congratulated her. “Questionable decisions are not uncommon when oxygen is depleted in the blood.”

Her vampiric love pointed a finger at her. “Well, there are no takebacks, so deal with it.”

Oh, how far he’d come such jokes didn’t sting, and instead he could laugh at them because he knew she wouldn’t leave him. It was certainly not something he ever had to fear.

Halsin and Lae’Zel were last to join Dalyria accompanying them as the night settled, completing their little group.

They spent hours drinking and laughing, enjoying red drinks, some wine, and some other ethically sourced, of course, substances as they lounged by the fireplace.

“So, when will the actual wedding be?” Gale asked as he stretched over a loveseat, Tara having claimed his lap as a napping spot, her purrs echoing through the room. “I would be more than happy, and well, my students most definitely, to cancel the exams for it. Such an affair cannot be missed. Two heroes of Baldur’s Gate wedding each other.”

Wyll pointed a finger at the wizard. “You know, you are onto something. I might just have to make it a day of celebration in the city!”

“Actually…” Y/N shifted next to Astarion. “We were thinking of just going to a magistrate and signing the papers as soon as possible. Nothing grand really.”

A stunned silence settled before Dalyria snapped her gaze toward her brother. “You must be joking,” she deadpanned. “Astarion, I think you might need to lay off feeding from her for a while.”

“Y/N was thinking that,” he rolled his eyes at the outburst. “I disagree.” Turning on his best pout, the vampire glanced at the woman pressed to his side. “You would so willingly deprive me of seeing you in a wedding dress like it isn’t the most important day of our lives. I, for one, wish for this to be my only wedding, yet you break my heart into pieces with your words.”

Lae’Zel let out her signature “t’chk” of disapproval at Y/N’s amused huff. “I cannot believe I am saying this, but the spawns are right. A ceremony must be held. None of this magistrate nonsense, but a real, proper ceremony.”

“You all just want a party.” The Y/H/C-haired woman crossed her arms over her chest.

Halsin boomed a chuckle. “Well, we will not say no to the one a wedding comes with. But if you do not wish to have your dearest companions, people who love you most in the world, to be next to you on such an important day, that is completely dine. It is your wedding after all.”

“Oh, come on!” Y/N threw her hands up with a laugh. “That is so unfair! I mean, I just don’t care for the pageantry of it all.”

“Sweetheart, you are marrying the most pompous man to walk this earth. No offense, Astarion.” Shadowheart looked at the elf, but he simply shrugged, as it was true. “And you mean to tell me there will be no grand display of love?”

Her lover nodded at the cleric’s words, batting his lashes at Y/N. “Besides, would you truly be so cruel, that you’d deny my parents such a day? After everything they’ve gone through.”

“Alright, now you’re just blatantly blackmailing me.” She gave him a humour-filled look.

Astarion put a hand on his chest in mock outrage. “Blackmail my darling intended? I would never! However, if I were, I would also mention that the ring on your finger did belong to my mother, who so lovingly passed it onto you, saying she wished for you to wear it when she saw you next. You know, just a little information, to tug on your heartstrings.”

And tug at her heartstrings it did, as Y/N’s Y/E/C eyes widened, no doubt mind whirling from the statement.

“This is your mother’s ring?” She looked down at the piece of jewellery like it was the most precious thing in the world. “You didn’t tell me that.”

He didn’t intend for her to cry, but he wiped at her cheeks as a couple of tears rolled down her face. “She gave it to me the night we went to see my parents for the first time. I was already preparing to do it, but it just gave me the final push I needed to actually ask you. Even though I technically never did ask.” Astarion nudged her side, and Y/N snorted, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.

“Wait, hold on.” Dal leaned forward, a scrutinous gaze turned towards the elf. “What do you mean he never asked the bloody question? First no wedding, now no proper proposal?”

Karlach though seemed to have other more pressing thoughts in her head. “Holy shit, Fangs, you robbed your mother’s grave!? I mean that is messed up even for you!”

“Rewind.” Gale swirled a finger in the air. “You have a mother?”

All these questions and statements were said one over the other as the room exploded into a full-blown interrogation, everyone flinging queries their way. It took Astarion and Y/N about an hour to respond and tell the full story, but not before they stopped laughing.

At that moment though, Astarion clad in his silk pyjama set, the face greeting him was so full of delight, Karalch shone brighter than the set sun.

“I feel like I could just burst!” The tiefling hugged him, and he responded in kind. It’d become one of his favourite physical ways to show and receive affection. “But where is the wife-to-be herself?”

“Still in bed. You know Y/N and mornings, well, nights I guess, do not mix.”

“Ah, yes,” a male voice agreed and Karlach stepped aside to allow Wyll to enter. “You know, there were moments during our adventure when I genuinely thought our fearless leader would be the one to end us. Remember that time Gale woke her up before dawn because he needed an artefact to consume? His poor eyebrows.” The Grand Duke shook his head. “Honestly thought it might’ve very well have been the last moments of our dear wizard.”

“And yet, it wasn’t!” As if summoned, the Wizard of Waterdeep himself poofed into existence in the foyer. “I live to see yet another day where I can bless my friends with my presence. Eyebrows intact this time.”

Astarion couldn’t control the eye roll as it was almost reflexive when it came to Professor Gale Dekarios, but he couldn’t deny the happiness rushing through his veins seeing the man. If he ever saw Mystra in the mortal plane, she’d better start praying to a god herself, for what he put his friend through.

“It was… quite the look, I have to say,” Lae’Zel commented as she entered the house, joining their group. It seemed like they had a tendency to appear in the same places at the same time even without scheduling such a thing. “But do not attempt to upstage the bride, Gale. Astarion will already be doing his best. Though if these are your chosen clothes,” she gave him a onceover. “I believe Y/N has absolutely nothing to be concerned about.”

Astarion scoffed. “This is handwoven silk.”

“That is poor excuse for wedding attire.” Shadowheart appeared behind them all. “For once we agree, Lae’Zel, so enough with the chitchatting. A wedding needs to happen, and you need to get dressed.”

The only reason he’d decided to put on some clothes was because the thought of his parents walking in on him naked, was enough to pull out all the stashed winter attire and cover himself up so much nothing but his nose would be showing. Now though, Astarion almost wanted to rip them off just to spite the gathered crowd but abstained.

Before he did scamper off, he showed where they could go and mingle while he checked on the final details, especially how the ballroom was looking, and he had to admit, the drow in charge of decorations had turned it into something from a fairy tale.

The room had high windows, all the shutters open to let in the pale light of the moon garlands hanging from the ceiling and walls, the many mirrors on the sides, giving an effect that the room was larger than it truly was, creating an illiusion of a forest inside their home. At the very end between two columns of chairs was the altar where Shadowheart would officiate, two golden cups already placed on a velvet pillow.

There was hired staff in the gardens where food and drinks were being handed out.

Astarion took in a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out. Everything was going to be just fine. He had promised as much to Y/N. This nervousness had been one of the reasons he’d wanted to take on the whole wedding affair onto himself.

“I don’t want you to lift a single finger.” Astarion had brushed his nose against Y/N’s cheek after it was settled a full-blown wedding was happening and their friends had dispersed, leaving the two lovebirds on their own. “Just leave it all to me.”

“I mean, I can’t do that,” she exasperated. “It’s our day. We both should be involved. I won’t put such an event all on your shoulders.”

“But I want you to! Listen to me – me getting to order others around as they have to bend our every wish and whim, while all you have to do is nod for yes, and shake your head for no – sounds like a great time to me.”

“Sounds very unfair to you.” Y/N was still sceptical frowning hard at Astarion’s proposition.

“Look,” he sighed, taking her hand in his. “Let me do this for you. For us. You saved me back when I thought I was beyond it. I fully believed I was relegated to nothing but a life of pain and darkness and then… you showed up. You helped me through so many horrors, held me when it felt like the walls were pressing in… I would not have been able to do so without you. So please… let me make this day something you can enjoy and not have to worry about. I am very convincing when I set my eyes on something I want.”

And when he pulled his puppy dog eyes on her, Astairon knew he had her right where he wanted. Y/N could never resist him when his eyes got all soft and round. He could practically see her resolve melting then and there like fresh-fallen snow.

“Alright,” she conceded, and with a passionate kiss against her lips, he pulled her to sit in his lap. “But if it becomes too much, you have to promise to ask me for help.”

“I swear it.” Astarion pecked her lips once more, and though he had no intentions of letting her lift a finger, he was truthful when making such a vow. With Y/N, he’d learned it wasn’t a crime or sign of weakness to request aid.

He left the door open, surely more guests would be arriving, but before he could disappear, two more frames rushed up the steps, his mother and father practically beaming with pride as they saw him.

“I think your druid friend is also on the way,” his mother said, pressing a light kiss to Astarion’s cheek and pulling him in for a hug. “But he stopped to pet a flock of sheep along the way.”

The vampire snorted. “Well, we can only hope Halsin actually arrives for the ceremony on time. Or doesn’t bring the lambs as guests… appetizers though.”

She gave him an amused smile, before squeezing his hand. “I’ll just go and say hello to that wizard of yours. I think I saw him walking somewhere in the gardens and then I’ll be right up with Y/N. Has the sleeping beauty awoken yet?”

“Yes,” he mumbled, frowning. It was a well-known fact his love was a notorious sleepyhead, but that was not his reason for watching with a grimace how his mother practically skipped to the terrace in search of Gale.

“How does she know him?” he directed the question at the male elf standing beside him.

His father sighed, looking at his wife as she disappeared behind the corner, but not before she made sure she looked good, fluffing up her hair in the mirror before the grand entrance to their house. “She’s been quite obsessed with his cookbook. Just be glad she didn’t bring it along for an autograph. But enough of that. You need to get dressed, my Star. The moon is almost nigh.”

All other thoughts vanished from Astarion’s head as he noted how the white orb was pretty much at its peak, and the notion of getting married suddenly became a tangible thing. In just a few hours, under the pale light, he would vow to protect and cherish Y/N, they’d fill one another’s cups and drink, before tying strands of magical gold around one another’s fingers as a symbol of their unity in the ancient elven traditions. Astarion was about to become a husband with Y/N as his wife. If his heart had still beaten, it would’ve been jumping out of his chest.

“Did you feel like this as well when you married Mother?” the vampire’s hand shook as he entered the sowing room he’d claimed as his dressing room for the day. A naked mannequin stood at the corner. It’d born Y/N’s dress which was now surely being slid onto her frame, perfectly fitting against her body, and it was just another reminder of what was to come.

His father closed the door, going over to a suit that was hanging on another mannequin and slipped it off, laying it gently onto a settee. “Like what, Star?”

“Like unless in twenty seconds this whole thing is over, you’ll pass out.”

The deep chuckle the older elf let out was like a reassuring hug, somewhat calming Astarion. “Yes. Very much so. Add onto that wanting to throw up and black spots across my vision, I was pretty much hopeless. But then I was by the altar waiting for your mother, and when she appeared… nothing else mattered. It’s just the waiting that’s horrible.”

“Gods, maybe Y/N was right,” Astarion breathed out, sitting down by his tailoring table, head in his hands. “We should have definitely eloped. I mean it’s not normal to feel this way, is it?”

“Dear Star, it might have taken us two hundred years to find you, and we’ve only been lucky enough to have you back for two, but make no mistake,” his father deadpanned. “Your mother is not above murder and physical restraint if needed.”

“Yes, I know, you kidnapped my bride,” Astarion said. “But, I mean, what if it’s not perfect?” He looked at the elf. Blue reassuring eyes stared back, but even the conviction he saw in them couldn’t quench the lingering fear. “What if she isn’t there? What if I’m left a fool standing by the altar and she does not come?”

Those last words were barely a whisper, shame running through his veins as he said them, but it had been something plaguing his nightmares for weeks on end – Y/N finally realising she deserved so much better and leaving him heartbroken.

When he awoke in a cold sweat and she asked what was wrong, Astarion wrote it off as having a bad dream about Cazador. In truth, he hadn’t dreamt of his master in a long time, his only fear being Y/N tossing him to the side for something better.

“Astarion,” his father said sternly, but not unkindly. “That woman has walked through literal hells for you. And taken on a devil, as you yourself have told us. I highly doubt now would be the moment she gets cold feet.”

Deep down in his heart, he knew the words rang true. Astarion remembered after having killed Cazador, how strongly the urge to Ascend took over. Such power right at the tips of his fingers, yet at the cost of seven thousand souls. But at that moment, he was willing to pay it. He’d never have to be afraid of anything anymore if he finished the ritual. All he needed was for someone to copy the runes on his back. He’d turned to Y/N, someone who he knew supported him, but to his shock, she refused.

Fury took him over. He’d thrown insults so vile it made bile rise in his throat nowadays when thinking back on it. Words wishing her a painful and slow demise, telling her he hoped she died screaming. Astarion had expected her to leave, yet as his mind had cleared, processing the grief and agony he was going through, she was there by his side.

Even though he didn’t deserve it, Y/N held him as he cried, and whispered comforting words when he could do nothing but slump over himself in physical and emotional exhaustion. She was there for him like an unmovable rock, that not even time or tide could erode.

“I’m sorry,” Astarion had begged that night for her forgiveness while she cradled him in her arms. “I’m sorry for what I said. I was – I was blinded by the power. By what I could be, what I could do… I – reality was no longer visible to me. And I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” Y/N’s kiss was a balm to his wounds, especially those that no one else but her could see or soothe. “And I forgive you.”

Astarion’s father put a hand on his shoulder, bringing him out of the reminiscing. “She will be there because if there is one thing in this world I don’t doubt, it’s her love for you.”

He wrapped that thought around his heart. She would be there. Y/N would always be there for him. But first, he had to be the one to await her, so with his father’s help, he stood up and got ready.

After a year of getting reacquainted with his parents, he’d told them some of what Cazador had done. With Y/N holding his hand through it, he even felt brave enough to show his scars. There were a lot of tears and hugging, and much to his surprise, talks of resurrecting the vampire lord by his mother, just so she could drive a stake through his heart. And Y/N was very eager to agree.

His love had a vicious glint in her eye, and Astarion had to swallow his arousal as she leaned closer over the table where they’d been drinking afternoon tea and said, “I know how to skin a man and keep him alive the whole time.”

“Yes!” His mother accepted the idea immediately. “Let’s do that! My Star, how do we contact that Withers friend of yours?”

Honestly, the fact that Astarion was the one trying to quench their bloodlust and be the peacekeeper, for a moment, made him think he’d been thrown into some different universe. That was not how he expected the conversation over some tea and biscuits to go.

His father smoothed down the back of the white linen shirt and Astarion tucked it into the white trousers while the older elf helped with the cuffs, onyx squares glinting in the warm light of the candelabras. Looking down, he surveyed the intricate frock he’d slaved over days and nights.

It was matching a ivory to that of Y/N’s dress, the chest decorated with weavings of golden threads, much like what he’d sown across the bodice and through the hemlines of her gown. Astarion smiled, a gentle finger skimming over his work, knowing what the scribbles meant.

To the unknowing, it looked nothing more than a pattern of leaves and flowers, but to those who could read ancient elvish, the truth was laid bare. The idea had struck him late one night as he’d sketched Y/N’s dress. With the help of his parents, as his memory of what once used to be his mother tongue was not so good, he stitched into the fabric little love confessions.

Throughout her wedding attire, he’d sown the words of his undying love, of what she meant to him, and on his own jacket, he’d sown the promises he intended to keep as a husband, to always make sure she was safe and loved.

By the time he was tying the cravat, Astarion’s knees were shaking, and his father had to take over, tucking in the piece of cloth by his chest.

The vampire ran a quivering hand through his white hair. “So?” Gods, even his voice was trembling. How was he supposed to say his vows and not sound like a growing youth whose voice was on the verge of breaking? “How do I look?”

For a moment, his father didn’t say anything, just smoothed down the fabric over his shoulders. “Like a man ready to start the best chapter of his life.”

“Good.” Astarion nodded. “Because now I’m feeling that nausea you talked about.”

The older elf let out a warm laugh before nudging his chin towards the open window and when he looked over, he saw the moon shining bright in the sky, a smattering of millions of stars behind it. “It’s time, Star.”

With a shaky breath, Astarion nodded. He was ready. As long as he remembered how to move his mouth and say words, nothing could go wrong.

As he walked back towards the foyer, gentle music greeted him, meaning the string quartet of bards had arrived and their family and friends were filtering into the ballroom.

It was as if he was floating, barely being able to acknowledge the gathered people. Some patted him on the back, some asked if he was excited, and all of his responses were like through a haze, especially as he took his place by the altar.

Shadowheart was already there, giving him an encouraging smile.

“Don’t you clean up nice.”

Astarion wanted to give some sort of a sarcastic quip, but all he could manage was a hum of acknowledgement. He was really truly, nervous. The breath entering his lungs was shaky and came out the same way. He didn’t even need to breathe, but if he didn’t, he might just pass out.

“If it’s any consolation, Y/N is calm as a cucumber,” the cleric said. “Or maybe she’s just a better actress than you.”

The vampire’s pale brows scrunched, as he looked at the woman. She just shrugged.

“She said she knows you’ll be here. What more is there for her to want or be afraid of?”

And that trust, the belief Y/N had in Astarion, settled something in his heart, and when his parents entered, taking their seats in the front row, both elves beaming, all that fear disappeared like mist in the morning.

Beautiful music swirled around them, and all of the guests stood.

The whole world stopped turning the second he laid his eyes on Y/N.

Her body was clad in the white gown he’d poured all his love and care into, the gold thread shimmering in the candle and moonlight. Her hair was free as she always preferred, but small, intricate braids inlaid with diamonds as if rain had settled atop her head, a flower crown gracing the top of it. Y/N’s skin was also covered in a shimmery powder, that made her absolutely glow, as if from within, and the Y/E/C eyes he loved to get lost in, were lined with kohl giving her gaze an intense look. Had it not been for her rounded ears, Y/N would be the epitome of a true elven queen.

Astarion released a breath that’d gotten stuck in his chest and tears welled in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks.

He’d been lucky, especially in these past few years where he’d been able to witness a lot of beautiful things. But nothing was as beautiful as her walking toward him.

Y/N’s head was high, as her gaze bore into his – his scarlet not looking away from her Y/E/C ones – her lips pulled in the widest smile he’d ever seen on her face.

Gods, she was beautiful, and his ego also revelled in how that grin was directed at him. At only him. It seemed like it took her ages, but at the same time not even a couple of seconds to be standing before him, handing off her bouquet of lilies of the valley to his mother and placing her palms in Astarion’s awaiting ones.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Y/N, but she couldn’t take hers off him. Vaguely he heard Shadowheart offer blessings and words of wisdom for the new couple as they started their joined lives. Astarion only snapped back to reality when it was time for him to take the golden thread and tie it around her finger, an ancient elven tradition – instead of simply exchanging rings, one would take a twine of gold and imbue it with the power of their words, before the vows were sealed.

No longer did his hands shake, and his voice didn’t crack once as he said his vows, as he gently twisted the twine and looped it back around where it moulded together by magic on their own, creating a gorgeous ring.

Then it was Y/N’s turn.

“I vow to protect your life as my own,” her voice was soft and steady as she spoke. “I vow to walk the dark paths and lead you to the light when needed. I promise to be your reassurance when doubts come, and I promise to love you until the stars no longer shine.”

Astarion didn’t care as more tears slid down his cheeks and wetted the neckline of his frock when finally, the golden thread connected and solidified itself on his ringfinger.

He was married. He didn’t care that Shadowheart hadn’t said yet he could kiss his new wife, that they needed to drink the blessed wine from the cups, as he surged forward, taking Y/N by the wrist and smashing their lips together. From somewhere afar he heard whoops and cheers, and a “you could’ve waited for just a second more,” but it was all background noise with no meaning as his love’s palm slid to cup his jaw and pull him in for a deeper kiss.

All the nerves had been worth it. All the pain and suffering he’d gone through – it was all worth it just for that moment alone, when Y/N had to press him back a bit, a breathless laugh escaping her lips as she took in greedy gulps of air, but put her forehead against his, not straying far from his touch.

“I love you, husband.”

His cheeks hurt from so much smiling. “I love you, wife.”

They didn’t get to stay in the small bubble for long as people were stepping up, congratulating them, and pulling them in embraces from left to right.

The revelry slowly moved outside where drinks and food flowed without stopping. Slow melodies turned into fast foot-stomping beats, as people twirled and danced, celebrating the union between two of Baldur’s Gate’s heroes.

It was during a moment of reprieve when Y/N was chugging down glass after glass of water and champagne, Astarion following suit with some blood, when his parents came up to them, a small, yet intricate box in their hands.

The frame was of old oak, no doubt, scuffed at the edges and corners, while the top of it was engraved with a whole flora and fauna piece, but that didn’t matter. He’d said them being at the ceremony would be enough of a gift and that him and Y/N didn’t need anything, yet here the two elves were.

“Don’t even start, my Star,” his mother interrupted Astarion’s rant before he could even go on one. “There was no way we would’ve come empty-handed to your wedding. Besides, we think this might be of great interest to you two. And of use”

Gently, as if the box might crumble if touched any harder, the older elf opened it. Inside, laid on green velvet sat two golden bracelets, their visage moulded like wreaths of leaves and budding flowers.

They were handmade, that was certain, and ancient if his eye for jewels and jewellery didn’t deceive him. And it rarely did. But the oddest bit was the sensation it radiated as if it was imbued by vibrating energy, barely contained in the circlets.

“Could it really be – but no. That is only a legend,” Halsin’s and Gale’s eyes were wide as they beheld what lay in the box as the two had snuck up on the group and shadowed behind them. The druid gave Astarion’s parents a bewildered gaze. “How in the worlds did you come by this?”

“Let’s just say, you are not the only ones with connections.” His father threw Halsin a mischievous smile, but Astarion didn’t like that.

“And the cost for such a thing?”

His mother smiled. “My dear, you talk like your skill of words and stealing didn’t come from somewhere. We might be old, but that doesn’t mean we cannot have adventures of our own.”

“I’m sorry for interrupting this moment,” Gale said, “but can we get back to the fact you have the True Love’s Curse sitting in that box.”

“The what?” Y/N’s brows furrowed, but no one bothered to answer as Gale went on.

“I can feel the magic.” The wizard laid a reverent palm above the bracelets but didn’t touch them. “The Weave… I’ve never felt something so strong. As if it could change the matter of the cosmos around us at any second.”

Astarion lifted a finger, just as confused as his love, pointing at the bracelets. “What exactly is this curse? And, I do apologise, mother, as we appreciate everything you've done for us, but why in the worlds did you think a curse would be a great gift?”

“True Love’s Curse is simply the name,” Halsin said. “It’s an old elven legend of two lovers – one forever meant to walk the dark, the other meant for light. In the myth, they are so convinced they are soulmates and meant to be, they create two bracelets, symbols for their loves, imbued with a mirroring spell, but not just any average enchantment. It gives the nightwalker the ability to walk in the sun, but there is a cost – if the other person is no true love, no soulmate, the nightwalker will succumb to the rays and perish forever.”

Y/N grimaced. “Seems quite harsh. And unfair.”

Astarion’s father closed the box. “It’s why it’s called True Love’s Curse. But if there is anything we all can learn from you two, is that love conquers all.”

Hope ignited in the vampire’s chest, as he accepted the box.

Could there really be a chance he would be able to live his life with Y/N by his side, and also live it in the sun?

He used to be scared of what the future held for him, especially what the future with Y/N would be like. He’d had his doubts – that she probably didn’t actually love him. How she was with him only for pity or to use his body like so many others had before – but those no longer existed. She’d meticulously shattered every single brick of the wall that was his mistrust and built a castle of love in his heart. If what Astarion’s parents said was true, he had nothing to worry about – Y/N had been ready to walk her life in darkness with him and not asked anything in return apart from his devotion.

But he pushed the thoughts of the bracelets, of the True Love’s Curse, to the side as he was pulled in a dance by Dalyria, then her girlfriend, and at some point, even Lae’Zel allowed him to lead her in a slow waltz before once again returning to Y/N’s side. His rightful place

His arms wove around her waist, while her cheek leaned to rest against his chest. She sighed, closing her eyes.

Astarion pressed a kiss to Y/N’s head. “I don’t know what I might have done in a previous life, but whatever it was, it had to be something exceedingly good for me to end up with you.”

She hummed in contentment. “You deserve all that is kind in this world, my love. I am the least of it.”

He wanted to argue, to tell her she was his whole world, but instead, he closed his eyes too and smiled, relishing in the love. He did deserve good. He deserved all that was kind. It was time Astarion finally embraced it, and if that was Y/N in his arms, he would hold on a bit tighter then.

Hours later they stood alone by the cliffside, a slight breeze ruffling their hair as they waited for the sun to fully rise, the gardens empty, their house as well, as the wedding party had ended, leaving people satiated and tipsy on their way home.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Astarion asked. “What if they were wrong?”

“Then I have the cloak right here, and all the shutters have already been closed at the house.” She took his hand in hers, the bracelet clicking against his.

She didn’t try to convince him, give him false hope of how it would work, because not everything in life did. Not everything was perfect and not everything was supposed to be perfect. Of course, he would be devastated, if the True Love’s Curse was not real. But Astarion also knew he’d never be alone in it. He’d have Y/N by his side, as he always had. She wasn’t going anywhere and that was enough.

As the sun rose, the sky turning from a deep blue to pink, then orange and red, Astarion took in a deep breath. Then – on the first day as a married man – the first rays of a new day touched him for the first time in four years.

A tear rolled down his face, scarlet eyes not daring to stray away from the stunning view that was the dawn and greeted the sun like a long-lost friend.

Y/N gave him the widest smile ever, a match to the one she’d sported when seeing him by the altar. “Where to first, my love? We have the whole world for the taking.”

He looked at her, cupping her face. “First, to home. And then – to the very edge of the universe.”

Tags:

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird @omggiannarosa @poisonquinzell @iffazu @alisoncdariel

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange

A/N: I've re-written this whole thing like 3 different times because I just couldn’t get it right, but now I feel like this is how it's meant to be :) I do have like extra 8k words of stuff I might release as smaller fics set around these two specific versions of the characters. Let me know if you'd like that or want to be tagged in future fics :)

I might edit this at some point a bit more. English is not my first language, so I need time to step away, before I can see additional mistakes.

Please don't repost on other platforms without specific written consent! That is called plagiarism

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slut4thebroken · 2 months

Text

Pool Party

(smut prompt 70 “I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice”)

Pairing | Neil Lewis × reader

Summary | You and Neil go to a pool party and he sees you in a bikini for the first time 👀

Warnings | Smut, grinding, kissing, hickeys, public sex, breeding, praise, a lil degradation, needy Neil.

Words | 1.5 k

Notes | (Barely proofread.) This one got a little long lol. Most of these will be 1k words or less btw.

Even after months of dating, Neil’s reaction to seeing your body was always the same as the first time. He’d stare at you, slack jawed and blushing, as his cock started to fatten up in his pants. Truthfully, it was a bit of an ego boost and you liked teasing him whenever you could, no matter how much he claimed to hate it.

Today was no different. It was the middle of summer and one of your friends was throwing a pool party. You and Neil went together and the second you slipped your sundress off your body, he choked on his spit and went completely rigid.

“Jesus- what the hell is that?” He whined, making you turn to him. You tried not to smirk when he moved his towel in front of his body.

“What?” You asked innocently. He’s never seen you in a bathing suit yet, so you were eager to see how he’d react… He definitely didn’t disappoint. He couldn’t keep his eyes off your body and it was like he wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was currently eye fucking you. “Are you okay, Neil?” You asked sweetly, watching the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed. When he still didn’t respond, you couldn’t help but smirk. He wasn’t even looking at your face though, so you didn’t bother trying to hide it. “Okay well… I’ll be in the pool. Feel free to join me when you’re feeling better.” You said, trying to keep the amusement out of your voice and sound concerned instead.

You walked into the pool and went underwater for a second before coming back up and swimming over to greet your friend. When she asked if Neil was here too, you confirmed and looked behind yourself, laughing quietly at the way he was sitting with his towel on his lap just to take his shirt off.

You talked for a while until two hands snaked around your waist and pulled you back by your stomach. As soon as you felt his hands you knew it was Neil, but the bulge made it even more obvious. Since you were still in the middle of a conversation, you kept talking and smiled a little when he rested his chin on your shoulder. You tried not to blush when he started slowly rocking his hips, rubbing his hard on against your ass.

Eventually your friend excused herself, saying she had to go greet the other people who just arrived. You waited until she was out of earshot before saying anything.

“It’s rude to interrupt people’s conversations, y’know.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“It’s the principle, Neil.” You tried not to laugh. He started pulling you back by your waist until he was leaning on the wall of the pool with your back still firmly pressed to his front. “Can I help you?” You asked teasingly, looking over your shoulder at him as he pouted.

“C’mon, baby, just really quick.” He begged quietly, kissing the bare skin of your shoulder next to your bathing suit strap.

“No, Neil. These are my friends.” You scolded gently, making his pout deepen.

“I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice.” He was grinding on your ass a little more obviously now and he moved your hair away to start kissing the side of your neck.

“I’m not letting you fuck me at a party in broad daylight.” He whined and hugged you tighter, rutting against you more desperately. “Go jerk off in the bathroom or something.” You tried not to laugh at the thought.

“Can’t get out of the pool like this.” He grumbled, sucking the sensitive skin of your neck into his mouth, making you gasp quietly. “C’mon, I promise I’ll be quick.” One of his hands started trailing down your stomach, not stopping until he was cupping your heat over the bathing suit. “Need to feel you, baby. Need your pussy..” Despite your hesitation, his words were getting you a little worked up…

“Just keep grinding on my ass then.” You said plainly, making him whine and start rubbing your clit.

“It’ll be too messy.”

“Oh, but it won’t be messy for me?” You scoffed and he kissed up your neck until his lips brushed your ear.

“Please?” He whispered. You sighed and looked around— everyone seemed to be preoccupied with something else…

“Whatever. Fine.” You huffed. He laughed quietly in response, knowing you were still putting up an act.

The hand on your clit moved to push down his bathing suit enough to free his cock, then pulled your bottoms to the side, letting him line up. He pushed in slowly, dropping his head onto your shoulder with a quiet moan. You bit your lip and looked away from the crowd of people, trying to hide your expression. Because of the water and the lack of preparation, it burned a little, but the stretch still just felt so fucking good.

“Fuck— you’re so tight.” He whimpered, forcing his hips forward until he bottomed out. His arms wrapped around your torso again, hugging you tightly as he just barely started rocking his hips.

“This fucking bikini… Were you trying to kill me?” He said through a groan and you couldn’t help but blush. He suddenly pulled you down a little as he bent his knees so that everything below your collarbone was under the water. When his hands snaked up your stomach, you suddenly realized his plan.

“Neil…” You warned. You’re not low enough in the water for people to not be able to see the contrast of his pale hands over your colored bathing suit.

“C’mon, just— just for a second..” He whined, not letting you protest again before cupping your breasts and squeezing gently. “God I love these tits.” He grunted, fucking you a little faster now, but keeping his thrusts shallow so that the water didn’t ripple too much. “So fucking sexy…” He said through a breath as he started panting. You couldn’t help the quiet whimper that escaped when he started pinching and pulling on your nipples through the fabric.

You watched a group of people disperse and immediately got scared. “Neil— Neil, stop.” You said quickly, trying to pull his hands away before someone saw.

“No, baby, let me feel you.” He whined. Based on the way that his head hasn’t moved for a while, you figured he wasn’t even looking to see if anyone was watching. “I’m so close, just a little longer.”

“People are gonna see.” You whispered, still trying to pull him away.

“So? They’re just jealous.” He grumbled, flattening his hands and groping you again. “They wish they could touch these tits after seeing you in this slutty little bikini.” His voice was a low growl, making you shiver.

“Neil, come on..” You whined, not wanting your friends to see your boyfriend groping you in public. Sure, they could’ve seen something worse… but this was still embarrassing as hell.

“Shh, baby, I’m almost there.” He whispered. His hips were moving more frantically now, chasing his orgasm with little regard for how obvious his movements were. “Such a fucking slut letting me fuck you right in front of everyone…” He moaned quietly. “Letting me breed you in front of all your friends while I play with your tits.” He snickered, making you whine as your cheeks heated up.

“I bet you want them to see.” You shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut— you can’t stop him, so you’re just not going to see if people noticed to save yourself from even more embarrassment. He placed his chin on your shoulder again, his hot breath against your neck making you shudder. “Yeah, you do..”

“No…” You whined, but it cut off into a gasp when he suddenly pulled your bathing suit down below your breasts. “Neil!” You quickly lifted your arms to cover your chest and he let out a low moan when he groped you again, this time without anything blocking him.

“Fuck,” He choked out, squeezing you harder and bucking into you faster. “I’m gonna come..” He said through a breath. The water was just barely sloshing around as he rapidly fucked you, chasing release.

“Neil, slow down.” You whimpered, not able to move your hands to stop him without removing some of the cover for your bare tits.

“Fuck— take my come, baby. Take it.” He growled, slamming into you with a muffled groan as his hands moved back down to hug you tight, not letting you escape. You scrambled to pull your bathing suit back up, trying not to get distracted by the warmth filling you up and the way you could just barely feel his cock twitching inside you. “Mm… good girl.” He moaned, kissing over your neck again until his body finally relaxed and his orgasm finished. “Good fucking girl.”

Both of you were panting, trying to calm down from the intense moment you were just experiencing only a moment ago. He finally pulled out, then fixed your bathing suit before tucking his cock away.

“I swear to god, Neil, if someone saw..” He quickly turned you around and captured your lips in a kiss, forcing a startled moan from you. When someone yelled your name, you both pulled back and looked over, finding your friend waving you over with a smile. It didn’t seem like you were in trouble, thankfully… so hopefully no one actually noticed.

#neil lewis smut #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #watching the detectives #cillian murphy #smut prompts #smut prompt list

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kasagia · 6 months

Text

In the darkness

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/General Kirigan/The Darkling x fem! Alina's sister! Sun Summoner! reader Summary: After you and Alina destroyed the fold, she killed Aleksander and became queen at Nikolai's side, you took the place, tittle and chambers of the General of the Second Army. And then... strange things starts to happen in the darkness. Warning(s): obsessive behaviour; toxic relationship; voyeurism; Aleks manipulates the reader, the reader gives in to him; the reader is alone and needs someone *cough* her Darkling; fight; violence; dark reader; Word Count: 9,2 k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~

You won. Alina won. The fold did not exist anymore… as well as he. Ravka was safe. And the new royal couple was supposed to provide it with peace and splendor. That's what they were saying.

Nobody talked about the fallen. About the thousands of Grishas still living in fear. About thousands were imprisoned by Fjerdans and Shu-Hans who experimented on them.

All that mattered was that the Darkling was dead. The darkness disappeared. The shadows left with their last summoner, whose body he begged you to burn.

And maybe, after all, he was cruel. Maybe he knew that despite everything he had done, you still loved him, and his request (as well as his staring at you as if you were his only light and the only one thing he wanted to look at before his death) would completely break your already battered heart.

Maybe that was his last act of manipulation and control over you. A pleasure he couldn't slip out of his fingers. Maybe seeing you sobbing over him was the last goal he set for himself, before he leaves this world after the centuries he has lived. Centuries of constant fighting and flight. Centuries of leaving in his own shadows, in hatred, each time he looked at the fold, he was reminded that he wasn't able to achieve his goal.

That he was utterly alone...

Just as you are now.

Or maybe he just loved you, and you didn't want to admit it to yourself...

And now, laying on the bed in which he used to sleep, on the bed he used to hold you, on the bed he spent with you many sleepless nights and long, late mornings, you know that no matter what renovation this room will have, it will always remind you of him.

Your Aleksander... your equal... your monster.

You shiver as the cold, winter air comes to his... your room. You get up from the bed and walk to the window to close the door.

You look at the palace gardens and immediately remind yourself of the days before you found out he was Black Heretic, before that fatal Winter Fete.

Two years ago, Aleksander was chasing you around gardens, laughing, snowballs fighting, and doing all the stupid things he couldn't do in the daylight.

Two years ago, your life looked like a fairytale, and you were blessed to live in it. Now it is much closer to tragedy. And knowing how the events would turn out, you would have definitely cherished those simple, peaceful days with Aleksander by your side more while they lasted.

You sigh, absently stroking your right hand where Aleksander ordered David to physically embed the amplifier into you a few months ago.

You were pathetic. Missing the man who manipulated you, who hurt your sister, who wanted to kill your friends, who hurt Genya... but that was why you couldn't fully hate him. He did everything to achieve his goal. He hurt everyone who stood in his way.

Except you.

Never you.

And it hurt more than if he had physically hurt you.

He always held you up as his equal. The son of a bitch even had his kefta re-stitched to have gold embroidery to represent your power. He wore your combined colours with pride. Just like you did before you discovered how many sweet lies he had fed you since the day you first met him.

Tears come to your eyes as you remember how that fucking bastard, moments before Alina drove the shadow sword through his abdomen, lunged at his Nichevo'yas to stop them from attacking you. You saw the vulnerability and the fear in his eyes until your light drove the shadow monsters away from you. And relief, which was replaced by painful shock when Alina took advantage of his moment of inattention and killed him.

It had never occurred to you to hurt Alina before... except that fateful day.

You wipe the tears from your cheeks with your hand and turn to go back to the bed. You had a meeting with several colonels, including Fedyor and Ivan. The two were also torn apart by the war.

At least Fedyor still has his Ivan alive to atone for his sins. - you think bitterly, even jealousy, as you somehow manage to fall asleep in this big, empty, cold bed.

And when you close your eyes, the candle that was lit on the nightstand that once belonged to Aleksander goes out as you fall into a deep sleep.

If you had been a little more alert, you would have seen shadows that created a curtain covering the window, thus blocking the moonlight from entering your chamber.

"I have no intention of punishing them, Alina." you tell your sister as you work at the war table. Aleksander's plans were somehow still preserved. And you review them, updating and changing them according to your needs.

"They fought alongside the Darkling. What kind of general are you? What example will you set by not punishing those who defied the crown and followed their Black General?"

"That's why I have no intention of doing anything about it, your majesty. You were Grisha yourself before you lost your powers. Whose side would you fight for—the king who hates them or the general who gave them a safe place? And please try to put aside our personal prejudices and see the whole thing, not just a little peace through the prism of your hatred towards him, because we both know damn well that Aleksander was many things. A good commander was one of them."

"I never wanted to be a Grisha." Alina says this with pain in her eyes. You know this very well. You wouldn't have wanted to be a Sankta or general either... if it weren't for Aleksander.

"But you were. You can't just forget about that, Sol Koroleva."

"You're definitely not making it easy for me." she sighs tiredly, smiling at you. She sits down in the chair next to you and takes your hand. "If I could turn back time and... not bring Mal back to life and not lose my power, I would. I wouldn't leave you alone with this, you know, right?"

"I know... but that's not how things went..." you say, swallowing, as you let go of the papers and look at your sister. "But that's okay. I will keep an eye on your children and grandchildren... Maybe one of them will become the next Sun Summoner? Who knows?" you laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but by the look Alina gives you, you know that your tone wasn't as carefree as you wanted it to be.

"Y/N... I'm sorry." you interrupt her before she begins to pity you, before her compassion overwhelms you to the point where you sink into your own pain and suffering, which inevitably entails an eternity ahead of you. And that was just the beginning.

"You don't have to... I... I can always die somehow. I don't have to live forever."

"We both know that's not in your blood to give up. You will fight till the end... till Grishas and Ravkans will live as equals in a safe country."

"Maybe yes... or maybe I will throw it all to hell and go around the world. I remember that Kaz once proposed to me to join their little group of thieves. It could be fun."

You both laugh at that. Then Alina gives you a sad, apologetic look before asking you a very dangerous and… hurting question.

"Do you miss him? Aleksander?"

A dead silence falls between you after her whispering question. As if his name were something forbidden to say out loud between you two. You play with the sleeve of your white kefta with gold embroidery, wondering how to answer this obvious question.

"Sometimes... but I guess it's only because I don't want to... to be alone like him..."

"Did you love him? At the day I killed him?" she asks, assuming that you stopped loving him at the moment he stopped breathing; at the moment when his black, poisoned by Merzost heart stopped beating… as it was just that simple for you to forget about him. The man who made you who you are now. The man who was first to show you how extraoridnary you are. Who understood you more than your sister - your supposed closest person in the world.

"I care more to have someone by my side through all of this that's about to happen… someone who will stay for longer than almost a century. I guess I'm starting to understand why he was chasing after us… why he wanted us by his side in his damn glorious purpose."

"He was chasing after you. He only cared about you. Not only because you were a Sun Summoner." she says it so lightly and so obviously that you start to wonder if she's deliberately trying to break you.

But if Aleksander taught you anything, it was how to keep your true emotions deep inside your heart. So you put your lips into a mocking smile and reply to her in a joking tone.

"Maybe. We will never find out. Anyway, I don't want to."

Fedyor's and Ivan's arrival rescued you from this unconvenient conversation. You nod to Alina as she leaves. She gives Ivan a hating, untrusyful look before guards close the door behind her. You look at the two heartrenders.

"It's good to see you both. I have some questions about these plans, and as general Kirigan's closest people, I assume, you both can explain some things to me, which I don't quite get right now."

You clear your throat, trying to forget about what you and Alina were talking about and focus on what the two men in front of you are saying. But it's hard to look at the Dark General's notes and plans and just not think of your Aleksander... Especially when those damn wooden soldiers are just as spread out on his war table as they were on the night of the Winter Fiesta when you run away from him.

And you have neither the heart nor the strength to move it to another place…

"Fedyor, can you leave us both for a while? You can wait for Ivan behind the door." you say after you've gotten through most of the stuff. Fedyor gives you a surprised look but doesn't question your order. He goes out, leaving you with Ivan, who has been giving you an unfavourable, almost hostile look since he sat down in the chair. You wouldn't care if the situation didn't require you to cooperate with him. After all, he was Aleksander's right-hand man. He probably knew the most about war tactics in the entire Second Army. And now that the fold was gone and you had to defend and fortify yourselves on all fronts, you would need all the help you could get. "Why are you looking at me like that? What's your problem?" you ask the heartrender, watching him carefully.

You both stared at each other for a moment. Ivan tries to hold back something, but the moment he notices Aleksander's ring—the only souvenir you let yourself leave after him—something inside him breaks.

"How dare you sit in his chair, having his tittle, want to do exactly the same things in the Second Army, using the same tactics as he did? You all are no different from him. Actually, you are much worse, and you call him a monster when everything he did was for us. For our safety, so that we can finally break free from the power of Otkazat'syas."

"I know you were loyal to him, but..."

"He had done nothing wrong. And you know it." he cuts you off before you can say anything else. The feeling of guilt awakens within you again, the uncomfortable lump in your throat every time you talk to someone about him growing stronger again. "I hope you also know that you and your sister destroyed everything he was working at. That Ravka will spill blood under your rule. That Lantsov prince will be the same as his father, as every king from their dynasty was."

"Be careful how you talk to me. I am your general now, Ivan. You should probably get used to it, before I change my mind and let Alina execute you." you say it coldly and grab a glass from the table to drink the whisky. "You can leave now."

"Of course, general." he said coldly, but before he stood up to leave, he put a black envelope on your desk.

"What is that?" you ask him, but he just bows to you and leaves. Only when the door closes behind him with a bang do you allow yourself to take the envelope in your hands.

Seeing Aleksander's seal—the eclipsed sun—makes you release the envelope from your hand as if it was burning you. You let it fall to the desk; your eyes focused only on it.

You hold your breath as your fingers land on the seal and stroke it tenderly. You remember the first letter you received from him... right after your first night together, when he had to leave the Little Palace for a while on important matters. He wrote to you every day until he came back again, heading straight into your arms and ignoring the fact that the General of the First Army and the colonels were waiting for him in the council chamber.

With trembling hands, you take the dagger and cut the envelope at the top so as not to break the last seal he left behind and get into the contents of the envelope.

A pendant falls from the envelope with a clatter onto the table. You leave the envelope with the letter and take the pendant in your hands, looking at it carefully.

It is a silver, convex oval with some vines engraved on the front, decorated with small, round pieces (your favourite gemstone). Initials are engraved on the back: A.M. You huff, realising that even in death, he wanted to make sure you were his in some way. And you're about to put the pendant down and hide it somewhere, where you would never find it again, but then suddenly you press something and it opens.

You gasp as you see what's hidden inside. Bone. A medium-sized, most likely from a wrist, finger, or other small part of the skeletal system.

You rummage through the envelope, and, apart from the letter, you find a small note that was probably attached to the necklace.

In case you need a reminder of your real power...

You lift the bone and feel your power flow through you, amplified. You sigh, feeling just like those months ago when his skin pressed against yours as he let you draw on his empowering abilities. You feel a tear roll down your cheek as you tremble with an overwhelming, long-forgotten feeling.

A knock on the door makes you panic, opening your desk drawer and gathering all your items into it. You close the drawer just as Zoya walks in, followed by your colonels. You rub your forehead, mentally getting ready for the next meeting.

However, you can't stop thinking about the envelope and necklace from Aleksander hidden in the drawer.

And if you were more observant, you would notice how shadows are hiding in the corner of the war room, watching you attentively, waiting for the right moment when they can come out of their hiding place. Or at least a bee that flew out of an open window.

You lie in your bed late at night. You stopped trying to fall asleep a long time ago. You laied on your back, breathing calmly with your eyes closed as you were wondering about the new informations from the camps close to the border.

The war was comming. You had right. Aleksander had right. Fjerdans and Shu-Hans wanted to use occasion and attack Ravka, since a fold has gone and now nothing stopped them from attack a West Ravka. If you lost your ports and supplies of food, raw materials and gold, you will lose that war and many will lose their lifes.

You were laying there, wondering about your next move in upcoming war. You shiver suddenly, feeling oddly. A strange chill spread through your body as you went into a more alert mode.

Subconsciously, you look around in the dark, trying to spot the dark, familiar irises. You're doing it under some irrational delusion that he is able to observe you even when he is dead. That he can watch your every move even though you watched his body burn...

Although he has already proved many times in his long, many-centuries life that he is capable of anything he wants...

With a flip of your wrist, a ball of light appears in a room. There was no one. Just you and your paranoya You frown and remove the ball of light as you lay back on the bed.

You sigh heavily, lying on your side. You watch a candle burning on the nightstand on the side that used to be Aleksander's. You watch the fire for a moment, admiring the colours of the flame and how it goes along with a soft wind from the opened window, and then blow it out. You close your eyes, listening to your surroundings, and just as you're about to drift off into blissful unconsciousness, you hear something like a cold whisper in your ear, which makes you shiver.

They are going to lose. They can't rule this country. They know nothing about the pain of war.

That tought appear in your mind, sounding extremaly like somebody you used to know very well... you shake your head. You were not going to imagine his voice on your head. You weren't go mad, were you?

Besides, that was a stupid tought. You will figure it out with Alina and the rest, just as you always do. Grishas will be safe. You will sacrifice your life to make it happen. Horrifyingly, you realise that someone before you has taken a similar oath.

Yet still, you can't help but look at the side of your chamber where Aleksander's letter is, hidden in your desk's drawer. You are so tempting to read it, even after all that happened between you both.

"Get out of my head." you whisper to yourself, as he was still linked with you somehow. As he was still able to appear in a room with you at any second.

You missed him. You admit it to yourself in the darkness of the bedroom you two used to share. But that didn't mean that you would bring him back in some way. He was too dangerous for the good of other people and too unpredictable. Irronicaly, he cared too much. And you were afraid that you were inevitably walking in his path; you were in the same place as he was all those years and centuries ago. But, contrary to him, you will have no one by your side. You will be utterly alone.

You try fall asleep, closing your eyes and ignoring the tears that fall on your pillow. If you learned anything from Aleksander, it was to let no one witness your suffering. They wouldn't understand your pain anyway.

There were no others like you. And there will never be ever again…

Against your better judgement, you quickly get up from the bed, and, before you can change your mind, with a ball of white light in your hand, you walk to the desk, illuminating your path.

You open the drawer and pull out that damned letter, hoping that reading it will give you some kind of closure you need.

You hold it with trembling hands, trying to ignore the fact that Aleksander's familiar handwriting was less refined and more cursive and simpler. There were also black traces of his blood in some places on the page. Even before you start reading, your heart sinks as you think about how Merzost was slowly killing him, as he was completely alone after Baghra's death—as alone as you are now.

And the first line is enough to bring the first pitiful tears to your eyes.

Moya milaya. Moya soverenyia,

The damn bastard knew you would take over his position. He was probably having a lark in hell right now, watching you cry over his letter, how you regretted every decision you made that got you here, and how you tried so hard to hate him with all your heart, but you just simply couldn't. And that made you hate yourself more when, despite everything, you entered the trap he had prepared specially for you while he was still living and clutched the letter in your hands, trying to read it despite the tears constantly appearing in your eyes and blurring your vision.

He wrote to you what you have already heard. That he isn't sorry, that he would do the exact same things except that he would make you his equal, that he wouldn't let you escape his grasp so easily, that he would kill all your loved ones just to be your only shelter where you could go in case of any danger, or simply when you were too overwhelmed by loneliness, like he was many times in his very long life.

And you should hate him. You should be disgusted by this toxic relationship, by his obsessive desire for possession, and by his fear of abandonment. And you could already feel yourself being filled with spite and resentment towards this man, a man who had ruined the relatively peaceful lives of you and your sister... But as you read the last lines of his letter, your feelings towards him became more unclear than before reading that damn letter.

I will be waiting for you. With open arms.

Maybe time will help you realise that there is no other way and that my actions will be yours in the future… that I was not the villain in this story, even if I seemed to be a monster to you, my little Sankta.

Maybe you will finally come to accept that you and I are unity and that we belonged to each other even before the saints decided to create the two of us.

Eya fyela chi(I love you), moya solnyshka.

I always did.

Yours,

Aleksander

You didn't sleep anymore that night. Instead, you lie in bed, your thoughts filled with this damn man who, even after his death, continues to abuse your already bleeding heart for him.

Midnights become your afternoons, that were the hours when your brain works best. You stoped burning candles at night. Surprisingly, you were thinking much better when you were in complete darkness, where the only light comed from the moon shining through the open balcony door.

You spent many nights in bed writing in a notebook, taking notes and plans that came to you as the moon hung in the sky and most of the Little Palace fell asleep.

It has become your little ritual. You sipped kvass or whisky, thinking of military tactics and other manoeuvres in case Ravka was attacked by its neighbors. You often had Aleksander's old notes spread around you. And even more often, you twirled his necklace in your fingers as you pondered over your plans.

You stopped visiting Alina in the Grand Palace. You were less and less likely to be seen by her side. But you were almost always in Alexander's library, the war room, and the training field, looking after the young Grishas who trained under the supervision of Ivan, Fedyor and Zoya.

Without knowing why, you always waited until dusk. It was your favorite time and you couldn't even say why…

Maybe if you noticed that every time you fell asleep, tired, over your notebook, thoughts that didn't belong to you suddenly appeared on the paper; maybe if you noticed how your rooms were covered with more and more shadows night after night, blocking out the moonlight, to get you to sleep faster; and maybe if you noticed how the blanket wrapped tighter around you as you drifted off to sleep and your forehead was tickled by the touch of something soft and warm; then you would realise what was inevitably to come.

Or rather, who kept his eyes on you each night, hidden in the darkness and shadows of the chamber...

Kissing someone else's lips seemed sacrilegious to you. You felt like you were doing something wrong, like you were desecrating and breaking all moral laws. But after all, you were a free, single woman, a general leading her people to war.

You could have relaxed and slept with some handsome Inferni who offered to worship his saint, couldn't you?

As it turned out, you couldn't.

You kissed the man hungrily and threw off his kefta. The moment he reached for the buttoms of your own, he unexpectedly stumbled and fell straight into the spear that was in the rack for swords and other weapons.

You stood there in shock for a moment, wondering how on earth he did this. And if you had been more attentive, you would have noticed how the shadows quickly fled from your gaze, and two dark eyes watched intently as you helped Inferni stop the bleeding enough for him to make it to the healers' tent.

You sigh in frustration as the man disappears from your sight. You clean up his blood and wash your hands before taking off your clothes.

It gives you chills. Not because the cold air of the tent hits your hot skin, but because you feel a slight tickle at the most sensitive point of your neck.

You turn and look around the tent carefully.

For the past few weeks, as soon as you left the Little Palace, you had a strange feeling that something was fleetingly brushing against you from time to time. The feeling of this strange, ghostly touch accompanied you both day and night, whenever you were alone with your thoughts. You thought it was some kind of paranoia and tried to brush this feeling off. After all, no one could touch you if you were clearly alone in the room, with no sign of another living soul.

Once you're sure you're alone, you rub your hands over your arms. Your arousal and desire quickly fade as you remember the battle that awaits you tomorrow—the first as a general of the Second Army. You make sure your weapons and combat kefta are ready and in place before you go into bed and fall into a fitful sleep.

A few hours later, as you lie there, dreaming deeply, your tent fades to black. From the shadows emerged none other than Aleksander.

The man slowly walked towards you, careful not to make any move that would increase your vigilance. Ever since you left the walls of the Little Palace, it has become easier and easier for him to make his way to you, thanks to the bond he established between the two of you by giving you a piece of his bone in a necklace.

It boiled inside him when he saw you with another man. He acted rashly and instinctively, pushing him onto the spear. He was glad that you were careless enough not to notice his presence.

You weren't ready. Not yet.

And this time, he knew better than to push you forcefully into his plan.

"My little Sankta." he whispers, his hand gently brushing your curves hidden from his eyes under the blanket.

He doesn't do anything inappropriate. He would never take advantage of you or touch you against your will... well, at least not in any invasive way. He had several scenarios prepared in his head about how the night would go, when you would finally admit your true feelings and abandon the façade of a righteous Sankta of Ravkans and Grishas.

"Soon you'll realise what you're really missing." he whispers as his fingers tips caress the skin of your collarbones.

He picks up the necklace he gave you that you wore around your neck. He lets his shadows surround you, allowing the moonlight to shine on you enough for the silver pendant to reflect it, making it seem like it was glowing, as if it were a source of your powers.

"I will wait for you… until you finally come to me willingly and accept the obvious truth—that we belong together. I promise you, moya milaya, I won't let you forget this even for a moment. You're mine. You were mine the moment you entered that damn tent—the moment our eyes met before you went on the ship through the fold. You can't deny the connection between us. And soon, you will come to accept that you need a monster by your side. That without me, there will only be suffering, loss, and eternal struggle waiting for you. I've spent centuries struggling with all of this and much more… let's see how long this charming and annoying stubbornness of yours will last, lapushka. I have all the time on earth to watch you struggle with the hatred of this world all alone…"

He pulls the blanket tighter around you and takes the opportunity to inhale your scent, which he had missed so much during those months he had been hanging between the worlds of the living and the dead. He clung to his life with his claws... just to be this close to you again. And he knew he would do the exact same thing in a heartbeat if it led him close to you.

"And in time, when you realise that your little friends of yours are not enough for you, I will be back to you. And I will take you into my arms without hesitation. We are destined to be together. Sweet dreams, moya soverenyia." he whispers and places a tender kiss on your forehead.

You jump out of bed, screaming. You take a few quick breaths and put your hand to your mouth, trying to calm yourself down and not let the tears fall. Your tent is in complete darkness as you try to calm down from your nightmare in which all of your Grishas died in the battle, in which everyone blamed you and started to hunt you and chase after you, just like the king once chased after Aleks...

You let yourself cry silently into your pillow, unaware of the figure sitting next to you and a lifting hand that was just above you, moving as if stroking your back soothingly.

Eventually, you fall asleep, shaking. The shadow of your enemy and lover watches over you and keeps an eye on you without you being even slightly aware of it.

Two years, four months, one week and three days. That's how long the war with Fjerda and Shu Han lasted.

That's how long it took them to take over Ravka.

You have failed. Both the First and Second Armies.

Nikolai was dead. Alina was either dead or in hiding like you, although judging by the recent public execution of Zoya and Alina's other guards, you suspect they had her locked up somewhere until they caught you.

And they were doing very well, considering you were currently running through the forest, escaping from a group of Drüskelles.

You ran through the forest, the cold air stinging your hot cheeks as you made your way through the snowdrifts, occasionally sending a ball of light behind you to daze your pursuers and lose them, if only for a moment. But covering up your tracks was the worst thing—a nuisance worse than the cold seeping into your bones through your soaked clothes.

You hear a gunshot. You groan as the bullet bounces off your kefta, most likely adding another bruise to your collection.

Then everything happens quickly. You are surrounded and forced to fight with both your power and your melee. You're doing quite well when suddenly one of them twists your arm. You groan in pain and use one hand to summon a cut, but it is so weak that it only reaches the lesser half of the men.

As if in slow motion, you see one of the Drüskells pointing a gun at you. Then the clearing becomes dark. You step back in fear and stumble upon the body of one of the men you killed.

Everything goes quiet. There is a deathly silence in which you can only hear your wheezing and breathing. You summon your light and dispel the shadows to see the last person you expected to see... at least when you are still alive.

"But... I saw your death... I watched you burn..." you manage to stammer.

Aleksander just walks towards you, like it was a casual thing for him to do. His black kefta with gold embroidery is intact, at least compared to yours, which is blackened from bullets and patched in a few places. He looks practically like the day he died... except his face is devoid of black scars.

"Won't you even say hello to me, my Y/N?" he asks maliciously and extends his hand for you to take it and stand up with his help. You've seen this scene before. You've been in this situation before, and you promised yourself that you would never step into the same river again.

"You should be dead." you snap at him coldly and stand up on your own without his help. You see him frown as he takes a closer look at your dilapidated and miserable state as you try to move away from him as far as you can.

"Moya lapushka... do you think I would let something like death to keep me apart from you? That your little Sol Koroleva could ever kill me? After I lived a hundreds lifes? Fake a hundred deaths?" he asks mockingly, walking over to you. He cups your cheek in his hand and strokes it tenderly with his thumb. "No. I have too much experience with eternity, milaya. I promised you that you and I will change the world. I intend to keep that promise. As well as the one where I will always come back to you, remember?"

"You were here all this time... you watched me..."

"Simply keeping an eye on you." he interrupts you, and you give him a mad look, knowing full well that he's lying as you realise that all the random things and disasters that were happening around you were his fault... just like the few times you felt someone's ghostly touch on you. "Well... maybe I had also done a little bit more. But don't dramatise... after all, I have to look after what's mine."

"I was never yours." you say furiously, causing a hostile tension to arise between the two of you.

His presence brings you some relief, despite everything. But you know this feeling too well; you know HIM too well to let him manipulate you so he can use you in his plans again.

"Leave me. Live your life. I doubt anyone would be insane enough to resurrect you a second time." you growl angrily and run past him, hitting his shoulder with yours.

Before you can get away, he grabs your elbow. You hiss in pain, making him automatically let go of you. But he steps closer to you and carefully grabs your wrist, observing the blood seeping from your forearm and the swollen, bruised elbow—the result of your hand being twisted and falling to the ground—and the hard roots of the tree that had somehow broken through the now-red snow.

"You need a healer." he says calmly. He seems worried, as he is trying to stop the bleeding from your wound.

"I can handle it. Let me go." you say firmly. His dark-brown eyes meet yours, and you mentally curse yourself for how they can still charm you.

"Let me help you." he says it with such tenderness that you want to immerse yourself in his sweet words again, to surrender to that attraction that has always been present between you. "You don't have to be alone, moya milaya."

"I'm not alone." you deny quickly. However, you give in partially when the logical part of you allows him to give you a band-aid; this is something you are willing to accept from him.

"Aren't you, Y/N? Don't you feel a the weight of the fate of all Grishas on your beautiful, delicate shoulders? Haven't you misssed me all these single nights? When you were dreaming of my touch, of my voice..."

"And where were you when I really needed you?! When your people were dying on the borders! When innocent people died when they took Ravka! Where the hell were you then?!" you shout at him in anger and move away from him before he can tie a makeshift sling around your arm from the black shawl he untucked from around his neck.

"Making sure that YOU will not kill yourself, while playing a hero." he replies calmly, his gaze unwavering on you as his composure throws you even further off balance.

"If you care about me so much, why didn't you stand by my side? Why didn't you help me save Grishas?"

"You said yourself that you don't need a monster. That you can handle it perfectly well on your own, little Saint. I told you and tried to warn you that you can't do it on your own, and neither can I. But you had to be stubborn. These are your words: 'Let them come.' I did. I let them come. Are you satisfied?"

"You let all these people die to just prove your point?" you ask, shocked. He takes advantage of your momentary lapse in vigilance to bandage your arm and place it in a sling made of his black shawl.

"No. I let all these people die to make you see the truth that you are trying to avoid so hard."

"Which is?"

"Don't pretend, moya milaya. I am a patient man, but we lost enough time. Can you honestly claim that you are against me? That you would choose these fools over me again? That you didn't wish to have an equal again? Someone who will stand by your side no matter what? Someone who will protect you? I can be all of this to you and even more. All you have to do, lapushka, is accept that we are all we need. That you and I was enchanted to unite a long time ago. I want you to see all these things from my side of the story, to understand why I did what I did, and why I intend to continue what I have planned."

He talks so smoothly about death, as if it were nothing. And you would have the right to feel outraged by this fact and hate him again if the smell of the metallic blood of the people who hunted you wasn't in the air. People you killed without blinking an eye.

As he caresses your cheek tenderly and stares at you with affection and an understanding you haven't seen in anyone else's face since his death, you can't help but wonder... if he was actually right when he said that in time his actions would be yours.

He leans closer to you. Your noses brush as he rests his forehead against yours. You shiver, feeling his warm breath on your cheek.

"Aleksander..." you whisper shakily as his scent reaches you, his warmth warming your body, frozen from the cold and the exertion of running away. You feel like you're just realising that he's really here. That he's alive.

And you welcome the familiar tingle of your power inside you that he brings back to life with his amplifier powers as his lips capture yours.

And you wanted to move away. Really. You wanted to remain indifferent towards him and laugh at him for still feeling something for you. Scold him for even hoping that you would just melt back into his touch after what happened between you, how he hurt you, and how obsessive and possessive he was.

But all you do is moan against his lips as you respond to his kiss.

It's not one of those hungry, greedy kisses stolen in moments when you were completely alone and couldn't fight the growing tension between you any longer and just had to release it by consuming each other with your desires.

It's gentle, so much so that you're afraid that the butterfly feeling of his lips on yours will disappear in any moment and you'll find that he never came back, that he was just a sweet, cruel delusion of your exhausted mind.

But the moment he tangles one of his hands in the hair at the back of your head and puts the other on your waist to press you against the tree so gently as to not hurt you accidentally, you know it's real. And you can't stop responding to his kiss or pretending that you don't want to caress his lips with yours just as passionately. Or pretend that the thought of pulling away isn't sinful to you.

You pull away from each other after a long moment. Not far, though. His nose brushes against yours as you breathe heavily, both of you with your eyes closed, drinking in the other's warmth and scent after so many years of fighting with each other and your desires... after so many years of being utterly alone.

Your shaky breaths come out of your mouths in grey clouds and merge together. Only now do you notice how warm he is compared to you.

"Come. You can't stay here." he says, taking off his warm coat with black fur sewn to the hood. He puts it on you and pulls the hood over your head.

"You don't need to..." he interrupts you, picking you up in bridal style. He holds you close to his chest and walks in a direction unknown to you, a clear plan etched on his face as he scans the surroundings for any danger in your path. "Hey! Put me down! I can walk by myself! Besides, I don't want to go anywhere with you!" you protest, struggling in his arms.

"I know, milaya. Rest. I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to. I'm just making sure you will be safe when I'm gone. That's why I'm taking you to Grishas' camp. They will cure you there. Besides, your followers anxiously await your return, my little Saint. You are their only hope now."

"When you gone?" you ask slightly panicked and shift your gaze to him.

The weight of responsibility settles on your shoulders once again as you realise how many lives are counting on you... and the one person you can look to for support is, inconveniently, now something of an enemy to you.

But... can you feel towards your enemy the way you feel for him? Can you kiss an enemy as passionately as you did just a second ago? Can an enemy look at you with such care and adoration?

"Do you wish me to stay with you, lapushka?" he glanced at you briefly, just enough to ask you his question.

A dead silence falls between you. You don't need words to understand each other. And it was something that had always both terrified you and made the bond between you more and more irresistible. He knows the answer to your question. He knows you'll never admit it out loud. Or at least not at this moment.

Despite all this, he still holds you close. He leans down to place a kiss on your temple and whispers in your ear:

"I am... a very patient man, Y/N... I can wait, and I will. You will come to me yourself. And when you did... you wouldn't be able to resist or deny the truth about your feelings for another damn second. I will have you by my side. I can assure you that it will happen sooner than you think or are willing to admit."

You don't argue with him anymore. You just don't have the strength. Instead, you lean against him and fall asleep, wrapped in his scent, his warm coat, and his arms that make you feel safe. You decide to hate yourself later for what you feel right now.

After so many years, months, weeks, and days of fighting for your people and country completely on your own, you could afford the comfort of feeling his arms around you for just another few minutes, couldn't you?

It's been three months since you last saw him.

He left you at Grishas' camp just before the sun rose with a kiss on your forehead and a promise that you would meet again and that you would call for him again. Which you highly doubted. You already despised yourself and him enough to stay away from him... or at least pretend that's what you wanted.

During this months, you managed to save and lose many people—many good soldiers. And although you don't want to admit it, this time it makes you even more aware of the truth that Aleksander was trying to drill into your head before you destroyed the fold.

You wandered around like a child in the fog, trying to keep your morality, set an example for people, and play the role of a Sankta who abhors all evil and darkness. Only he had survived enough to know that morality could only be keept in human conditions—when you didn't have to worry about food, a warm place to sleep, or whether every breath you took wouldn't be your last.

But what really broke you wasn't the constant death, suffering, and screaming around you. It was the news of Alina's death.

It was this terrible emptiness, this feeling of helplessness and loneliness that grew inside you with each day, with each Grishas lost, with each drop of blood that soaked into your kefta.

And then you gave up.

"You won! Do you hear me?! YOU WON!" you screamed in your room at the camp after you returned from another mission to rescue imprisoned Grishas, which ended in the bloodiest of all. Which ended with the death of the last person you cared about. "Just come here… I can't… Aleksander, please. Please, I need you."

In your rage, you throw the bottle of alcohol against the wall and scream, falling to your knees. You wrap your arms tightly around yourself and cry, feeling the dried blood on your clothes.

You have enough. You had enough of this war. You didn't want to see your friends lose their lives. You were fed up with constant wars, fighting, and deaths around you.

You only knew one thing: you couldn't stand this alone. You simply must have had him by your side again Somoeone who will stay by your side and simply just be there for you. Someone who won't require you to save the world all by yourself.

"Aleksander, I beg you... please..." you whisper desperately while holding a pendant with his bone tightly in your hand. Maybe the fact that you never parted with that stupid necklace was a sign of what was inevitably to come.

Your failure. Your ruin.

But still, all you can do is melt into his arms as he comes to you through your bond and embraces you, pulling your shaking body into his lap and as close to him as possible.

"Shhh... it's okay, moya milaya, you are safe." he whispers in your ear as he holds you close to his chest with a hand on you mouth so you can make a sound. "As long as I am here, nothing will happen to you. You are not alone anymore and you never will be again, lapushka."

He strokes your hair and whispers words of comfort. A sweet nothing meant to calm you down. You still can't tell whether he does it out of love or because he needs you in his plans. And the scariest thing was that you didn't care as long as he held you, stayed by your side and didn't let you be alone.

If you were any less grief-stricken, you would wonder about the irony of this situation. The irony of how he foretold your fate. How he fulfilled his promise. How he became your only shelter.

"I will take care of everything. I'm not going anywhere. It is you and me, my Y/N. It's only you and me against them all. And we are all we need anyway. I will take good care of you, solnyshka. No more tears; no more lies and betrayals. Our life together is getting started exactly right now. And I can already promise you it will be an incredible future... moya tsaritsa. Ravka will be ours. We will free our people. We will made all of them pay for what they did to our kind. Grishas will enter their golden age under our rules. Nothing will stop us."

"Just... please come back." you sob into him. He tightened his arms around you and pressed his lips against your temple.

"I'm on my way, lapushka." he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear.

You shiver as the warmth of his arms suddenly disappears, and you're left alone, kneeling on the cold floor. You couldn't afford even the slightest remorse. All you could think about, and all you could wait for, was the moment he would come back here in the flesh.

You realised that loneliness was too dangerous an enemy for you that you (or anyone) were unable to defeat. Aleksander has been patiently waiting for years for you to come to this conclusion. A conclusion he understood the moment you fled the Little Palace with Alina and the crows, just before he could have a proper chance to propose to you.

But this time, he won't make that mistake again. He won't let you go of his grip once you came back to him.

The world needs a monster.

You understood his words the moment you created your own fold. A fold of white, pure light which killed anyone who tried to walk past it.

You saw the fear in everyone's eyes. Even your Grishas, whom you swore to protect. Only Aleksander's dark irises stared at you with admiration. Only he doesn't turn away from you, doesn't show any traces of dread.

Only he was brave enough to walk to you, and after that, he kissed you greedily after you all realised you won. Ravka belonged to Grishas. And the new fold that you create will make sure no one will ever think of attacking your people again.

And now you were standing in front of the mirror in the Little Palace. Your people bravely dismantled what was left of the Grand Palace and worked to rebuild the house of Grishas and expand it.

You were entering a new era. And the flags with the eclipse of the sun that now fluttered on the masts of the palace reminded you of that, as did your black and gold dresses, keftas, and the crown that had recently become an extra burden on your head. Just like two rings on your finger.

"I knew you would look stunning in the crown, moya Sol Koroleva." he whispers, making you shiver at his sudden presence. He wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you against his chest. Shadows circle lazily around you as his dark eyes catch yours in the mirror.

"You could at least pretend you didn't plan this from the beginning."

"I didn't plan it. I didn't want to be king. But when the dynasty kept taking advantage of us, I had no other choice. I had to start planning to take over the throne. Taking on the burden of power to make sure that the Grishas are finally treated as they should be. And then you appeared. My sunshine, my ray of hope, my little saint."

"A candidate for your queen and a means to a desired goal." you finish bitterly, resting your head on his shoulder to rest for a moment from the irritating weight of the crown. Looking in the mirror, you reluctantly admit that he looks handsome, dressing all like a king.

"Don't be so mean, milaya. You know very well that you shattered any evil plans I had for you when those lips of yours enchanted me. You made me feel like I could control it all for the first time in hundreds of years. That my plans will finally come true. We've come a long way, my Y/N, but we both know this is where we were meant to be. Next to each other. Equals. Together at the helm of Ravka. We are the only ones who will ever wield such power and who can stand next to each other forever."

You sigh. He is right. He is all you have. And you both know that you won't let go of each other anytime soon. You hated solitude. You knew yourselves so well that even for a second, consider leaving the only person who could ever stick so long with you. The ones who understood and were willing to share the burden the world put on the arms of the two of you.

So you turn in his arms, place your hand gently on his cheek, and after caressing his skin with your thumb, pull him in for a kiss.

He pulls you closer to him; you both need the other's touch and tenderness, the reassurance that after so many wars, fights, and betrays, you are finally together and that you will rely on each other to build the greatness of Ravka, leading your Grishas into the years of glory.

Not just as king and queen, tsar and tsaritsa. But also husband and wife. Partners. Equalls. Summoner of the sun and shadows united for the good of all your people.

"I love you, moi sol ye tselai. My Y/N." he whispers into the skin of your neck, placing kisses, especially where was the necklace he gave you, which you didn't dare to take off for so many years, afraid that the last connection and the memento you had left of him would disappear as soon as you lost it from your sight.

But behind these great goals was one common need, to which you agreed only for yourself. The need to love and be loved. The need to have a shelter that will last through the eternity that awaits both of you. And you finally had to admit that despite the darkness in your life and the problems and disasters mostly caused by your new husband, you couldn't imagine anyone else next to you.

"I love you, Aleksander. I've always have." you admit as his hands roam over you, caressing you. Shadows surround you, creating a protective bubble as you kiss passionately, forgetting about the rest of the world for a moment and you give in to your deepest desires.

The prospect of loneliness and everything that you went through in your life have effectively killed any sense of guilt or morality inside you. You could have allowed yourself that one selfish act. Especially when being with him in the darkness was such a tempting and blissful experience after years of loneliness.

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lecsainz · 1 year

Text

love notes

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: cute french nicknames and charles being an amazing boyfriend.

authors note: i would literally die if i saw charles playing on the piano some taylor's song, just imagine how perfect it would be.

word count: 824

Y/N woke up to the soft sound of Charles humming a tune. She opened her eyes and smiled, seeing him lying next to her, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

"Bonjour, ma chérie." Charles said, opening his eyes and giving her a sleepy smile.

"Good morning, my love." Y/N replied, leaning in to kiss him.

They cuddled for a few more minutes before Charles sat up, stretching his arms above his head. Y/N couldn't help but admire the way his muscles rippled under his t-shirt.

Y/N blushed, feeling a surge of affection for him. She loved the way Charles spoke to her in French, using terms of endearment like "mon amour" and "ma chérie." It made her feel special, like she was the only woman in the world who mattered to him.

"What do you want to do today?" Charles asked, turning to her.

Y/N shrugged. "I don't know, maybe explore the city a bit more? Or we could just stay in and watch a movie."

"Sounds like a plan," Charles said, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "But first, breakfast ma belle."

They got up and headed to the kitchen, where Charles whipped up a delicious omelet with cheese. Y/N watched him move around the kitchen with a smile on her face.

"What are you thinking about?" Charles asked, noticing the far-off look in Y/N's eyes

Y/N smiled, turning to face him. "Just how lucky I am to have you," she said, taking a bite of the omelet. "You've changed my life in so many ways, Charles. I don't know where I'd be without you."

Charles leaned in to kiss her, his lips soft and tender against hers. "You don't have to thank me, mon amour," he said. "Being with you is all the thanks I need."

Y/N blushed, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. She loved how he took care of her, always making sure she had everything she needed. And she loved how comfortable they were with each other, able to spend lazy mornings like this without feeling the need to fill the silence with small talk.

After they had breakfast, Y/N was curled up on the couch in Charles' apartment, reading a book. Charles had disappeared into the other room, and Y/N could hear him fiddling around with something. After a few minutes, she heard the sound of a piano.

Curious, Y/N put down her book and walked into the other room. Charles was seated at the piano, his fingers dancing across the keys. He was playing one of her favorite songs - "Daylight" by Taylor Swift.

Y/N couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Charles, how did you learn to play that?" she asked.

"I wanted to surprise you, mon amour," he said, smiling. "I know it's one of your favorite songs."

Y/N was touched. She walked over to the piano and sat down beside him. "You're amazing," she said, leaning in to kiss him.

As Charles continued to play, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the man sitting next to her. They had only been dating for a short while, but already she felt like they had a deep connection. And this moment, with Charles playing her favorite song, was the perfect example of that.

After Charles finished playing, they sat there in silence for a few moments. "That was beautiful," Y/N said finally. "Thank you for playing it for me."

"Anything for you," Charles replied, taking her hand in his.

Y/N smiled and leaned in to kiss him. "I can't believe you learned that song just for me. You're so sweet."

"Well, you're worth it," Charles said, returning her smile. "I love making you happy."

Y/N's heart swelled with affection for him. She couldn't believe how lucky she was to have found someone like Charles, who not only accepted her for who she was, flaws and all, but also went out of his way to make her feel loved and cherished.

As they cuddled on the couch, Y/N couldn't help but think about how much had changed since they had started dating. She had been hesitant at first, unsure of whether she wanted to get involved with a formula 1 driver, but Charles had won her over with his kindness, intelligence, and sense of humor.

And now, she couldn't imagine her life without him. He had become her rock, her confidant, and her partner in every sense of the word.

"I love you," Y/N whispered, snuggling closer to him.

"I love you too, ma belle." Charles replied, wrapping his arm around her. "I can't wait to see what the future holds for us."

Y/N smiled, feeling grateful for the present moment and excited for what was to come. As they sat there, listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, she knew that whatever the future held, they would face it together, hand in hand.

#f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fics #f1 x y/n #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc #formula 1 #charles leclerc imagine #fanfic #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc ferrari

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deantfwinchester · 20 days

Text

Hands

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader as usual (let's just assume these No-Outbreak Joels are all the same couple tbh), established relationship

Summary: Friday nights are reserved for sweatpants and relaxation, of course. But when Joel's work week leaves his hands a bit worse for wear, the night may need to include a break for a little extra attention.

Warnings: extreme fluff once again. expect it at this point. i'm a one-trick pony, i fear.

A/N: finally got around to putting one of my many bulleted notes-app idea fics into paragraph form again! Will we get another one before the year's out? It's anyone's guess! -_-

——————

Friday nights are your favorites. No dinner to cook or rattling rolodex of tasks to come in the next twelve hours give you both a little room to breathe — to gently unwind from yourselves and into one another. It’s typically quiet, and when it isn’t, the volume is born of laughter from games or stories the three of you share.

Joel comes home from an exceptionally long week. You know he’s been on site every day—the whole team has—working longer and longer hours to wrap up the latest project before the client’s deadline. You’re pleased to hear his keys rattle in the door not long after five o’clock, and relieved because the air’s rapidly cooling earlier each night. Daylight Savings time is coming to an end, and today he barely beat the sunset getting home.

You know the hour means little, however, and are less than astonished at the weary grin he bears on catching sight of you and Sarah on the couch when he walks in the room. She’s already got her purse on her shoulder, eager to head out when her friends arrive, and she’s excitedly recounting the events of the trailer for the movie they’ll be catching tonight. He stands idly in the doorway for a moment, just listening to the two of you chat. You make brief eye contact and smile back, assuring you know he’s there. Neither of you wants to interrupt her avid storytelling.

“Well don’t you sound excited?” he says when she pauses to catch her breath. You both turn to greet him, and he moves more quickly toward you as you attempt to rise, gesturing to you to remain seated. He’ll come to you both.

He plants a kiss on top of Sarah’s head before leaning down to kiss you as he does each night. You place a hand on his chest and pause when he pulls back to get a good look at his face. You see the fatigue in his droopy-eyed smile, but can’t say anything to him. You already know it’s mirrored in your own expression.

The doorbell rings before either of you can speak again, and Sarah jumps up to head out the door. You wish her a good night, and he follows her to the door, checking for a familiar parent in the driver’s seat and seeing her off. You see him hand her some cash to go with his reminder to make good decisions, and he hugs her. You can’t help but giggle when she takes it with a wide smile.

He turns to you laughing when he sees she’s in the car, and shuts the door.

“What?” he asks, brow furrowed in confusion, but amused at the sound of your laughter.

“Smart girl. I gave her a 20 before you got home,” you grin back at him. He stills in understanding and rolls his eyes.

“You couldn’t tell me that two minutes ago?” he asks you in mock exasperation.

“But it’s so much funnier this way!” you add, giggling again. You both know he’s wrapped completely around her finger, though she so innocently does not. It’s one of the first things you noticed about him. One of the first reasons you fell in love.

He shakes his head fondly, and places a hand on his stomach, which begins to grumble softly at him. You raise your eyebrows and meet his gaze. “Any thoughts on dinner?” he asks, and you grin back at him in amusement.

“Handled. Pizza’s already on the way,” you respond and he feigns relief.

“You’re brilliant.” he says, walking up and grabbing your hand on the back of the couch. You run your thumb in little circles on the back of his hand and give it a light squeeze.

“Duh. Now go get changed! It’s do-nothing time starting now,” you respond, patting the top of his hand in encouragement.

“You read my mind,” he says, leaning down for another quick peck before heading off into the bedroom to change out of his work clothes. Naturally, you’ve been in sweats for over an hour now, shedding your own outfit immediately, peeling the school day from your skin. The unspoken uniform for these Friday nights is extremely specific.

The pizza arrives before Joel can even return from the bedroom in a feat of incredible timing. You’re gathering plates and filling glasses with ice when he emerges ready for the night. He moves forward to help you grab the dinner, but you shoo him away to the couch.

“Nope, I got this. You sit,” you say, lightly shoving his chest away. You leave no room for argument. He grumbles a bit and raises his hands, backing away to the living room. You follow behind him with the pizza and plates, and return once more for the drinks before settling next to him on the couch. He sits on one end, and you sit in the middle, leaving little room between you.

You lean forward, putting pizza on one plate you pass to Joel before grabbing your own, then settle back against the cushion, both sinking in so comfortably a nearly audible sigh fills the room. The comfort in this relief is palpable, and the decompressing can begin. You grab the remote and put on the series you’ve been binging together recently, more for background noise than anything else.

A few slices and sitcom episodes deep, you’ve set your plates down on the coffee table. With your bellies comfortably full, you’ve somehow slumped deeper, though Joel into the couch and you into his side. His arm is draped over the back of the couch behind you, and you’re nearly laying on him, head propped against his shoulder.

You hold his free hand in both of yours and absently play with his fingers for a second when you notice the aggressive wear this week has lent his hands. They’re a raw, angry red at the knuckles; his nails are cracked in some places and peeling in others. Moving your fingers gently down toward his wrist, you focus more directly on the state of his, catching sight of a few hangnails and stretched cuticles that can’t be comfortable. He looks down as you begin to worry them beneath the soft pads of your own fingers, and you meet his gaze, brows furrowed as you look between his face and hands.

“Keep doing that, please,” he says with a sigh before closing his eyes, “I wait all day to feel your hands on mine. They’re so soft.” He lifts your hand to his lips before pressing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. He loves the delicate, reverent way you play with his hands, like they’re small, fragile things in need of tender attention. You take his hand once again into both of yours and gently rub it between them, looking back up at him, concerned.

“How do yours feel? They look like they’re hurting you,” you gnaw a bit at your bottom lip in thought, and he tries to assuage your worry.

“I’m alright, darlin’. Nothing worse than I’m used to,” he says. He knows from your deepening frown that you’re less than satisfied with this response.

You couldn’t care less if he’s used to it, he shouldn’t be. You know the protective callouses forged there don’t mean those hands are unfeeling in the slightest.

“Wait there. I’ll be right back,” you say, rising from his side and hastening to the bedroom. It’s his turn to frown now, both in confusion and at the sudden draft that’s appeared at his side.

You return not a minute later with a small tote around your wrist, and hands filled with half the manicure items you own. You sit down next to him and unpack, laying clippers, files, cuticle oil, and two different hand creams — a lotion he’s seen you use regularly, and a jar that must be a new addition — on the coffee table in front of you, along with the selected polishes and remover you had in the tote bag. You’ve been meaning to do your nails, anyway.

Joel looks incredulously at you, unsure where this is going. Not that he’s a stranger to nail polish — he raised a little girl on his own long enough to have worn the rainbow on his fingers, but tonight?

“Sorry, no color for you today, honey. Certainly not before these are healed,” you say. He’d chip half your handiwork away by Monday afternoon anyway the way he’s been working lately. Facing him, you cross your legs on the couch and smile, holding your hand out expectantly for his. He raises his eyebrows at you, but places his palm gently in your own.

You grab the clippers and get to work on the hangnails first. Any peeling skin or cuticle right there at the nail you clip as gently as possible, making note of the reddened and slightly swollen areas at the base of his nail from which they protrude. Those will need careful attention at the end. He doesn’t squirm or react in any way, but you know they’re more sensitive than he’s letting on.

Next, you clip back any breakages and unevenness in the nails themselves. You’d never find Joel Miller with dirty hands — he gets them clean as soon as he gets home, but all the scrubbing it takes to keep them that way takes its toll. A little trim at their length might help reduce the need for so much each day upon his return.

After clipping, you grab his first hand again and rest it gently in the palm of your left while your right files steadily to even any rough edges left behind and prevent further injury. It won’t take much, but you’re sure to get them smooth so they won’t catch on anything or bother him later on.

The cuticle oil is next. He looks at it questioningly, clearly a bit skeptical, only having seen it a few times when you or Sarah used it. He’s never ventured so far himself. While you brush it gently onto each of his nails, you explain its purpose.

“This’ll just help your nails get a little stronger. It’ll get them hydrated a bit, keep ‘em from peeling so much when your hands get dry. It’s kinda crazy how much better this stuff is for your nails than even water is. Water’ll make the peeling worse, actually. Weird, huh?”

He just nods along, listening to you, content to learn something new as always. Finger by finger, you massage the oil into his nail and nail bed. After the first round you go back through to massage again, both to make sure no oily feeling is left behind, and to prolong the rapidly concluding process. He could use the attention, anyway.

Finally, you pick up the jar he identified as a new addition: a canister of a hand repair cream labeled for “Healing of dry or cracked skin.”

“Never seen that one before,” he says, reading the label, “What d’ya need this for? Your hands are never dry! I think they’ve been soft every time I’ve held 'em since the day I met ya,” he smiles at you, and you bashfully brush off the compliment.

“I don’t need it. I use the other one,” you say with finality, opening the jar and pulling the first of his hands into yours. You don’t grab a large dollop of the stuff. You don’t want him to feel a disconcerting weight, grease, or stickiness from this unfamiliar formula, so you get a little and begin. You add a bit more each time you reach a new spot on his knuckles, palms, wrists.

You take your time, gently massaging into those roughened, tender hands far more than a simple healing salve. He understands why you have the jar now, looking at you knowingly, and you smile back. No words need be exchanged.

Once you’ve finished the last finger and the last stroke on his hands, you squeeze the one in your own, then pat it gently with your other, “There. Gotta feel better now, yeah?”

Joel stares at you like he just watched you reach up and place the moon in the sky, if for no reason other than to light his path.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. Thank you sweetheart,” he says, squeezing your hand back and smiling reverently at you. You blush beneath his gaze and look away, unsure what to do with the admiration rolling off of him in waves. You lean back against the couch, file in hand as you start going at your own nails.

“Good. Don’t let 'em go that long again, either. Where they start hurtin’ ya? Maybe we oughta make this a weekly thing. Manicure night? Been needing someone to do my right hand,” you grin, wiggling the corresponding fingers at him. He smiles back at you, then reaches over and pulls you toward his side, back to your original position laying against him, head resting once again on his shoulder.

“Sounds like a plan,” he says fondly into your hair, planting a kiss to your head in the process. You get comfortable once more, foregoing any plans to do your own nails tonight. You both know those “manicure nights” will be for him — and you’ve got Sarah to do your right hand already, when you do hers.

You grab the same free hand once again and admire your work, then lace your fingers between his own, and rest your twined hands on his leg. You’re satisfied knowing the hand behind you on the couch is comfortable now, healing from the week’s toils and melting into the comforting haze of the early autumn evening.

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naomihatake · 5 months

Text

Solitude

you can find other zoro fics here: Naomi's archive

pairing: zoro x fem reader

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, consumption of alcohol

summary: One would expect the swordsman to unwind after a battle, but there are times when he can't help but think. Alcohol doesn't always come in handy when a specific crewmate he grew fond of cuddled a tad bit too close to his heart.

word count: 3.3k

theme song: 'Daylight' by David Kushner

A/N: It can be imagined with both anime and opla Zoro. I don't know if he's slightly ooc or not, but I genuinely wanted to dig into this side of a relationship with the swordsman. The awkward times when he's getting used to it and simply accepting everything as a new part of his life.

I didn't forget about my multi chapter fiction, I just didn't find the inspiration for the 8th chapter. I couldn't help but write this for my own comfort and I want to mention that this original art of @tea917339 inspired me (check it out, it's absolutely amazing!!!)

I'm always open for your opinions and comments, so don't be shy about sharing your thoughts with me! <3

Usually, nights with the Straw Hats were lively, even after battles that left the crew members injured and bleeding. They would pick each other up and cheer up by simply bickering — that's what Zoro thought.

The same way Luffy's hand extended to help him back on his feet after he plopped down on the ground to rest. The same way Zoro reassured Chopper after the kid tried his best not to get emotional afterwards. The same way Sanji threw some remarks and the swordsman spat back in annoyance. And, for fuck’s sake, Nami reminded him for the tenth time that day he owes her berry for something he completely forgot about. Usopp was sighing in relief every time he remembered they escaped with life again while Robin agreed with a soft smile on her face. Truly, it was almost insane — Zoro wouldn't exactly call that a miracle because he's doubtful of its existence.

However, he couldn't bring himself to cheer up once the celebration of their victory was over and everyone went into their rooms. He was on the night watch and all he found himself capable of doing was burying in memories of all kinds, be it happy or not. With not enough alcohol in his system yet, it was rather hard to push those thoughts into the back of his head.

The swordsman sat on the deck, his back resting against the wooden cabin. Hidden from prying eyes, he found peace in the temporary silence. Rare were the times when the crew was so peaceful and it was usually during the night, when they were asleep, because otherwise they would've caused a mayhem.

The side of his mouth curled upwards at that thought. It was equally annoying and endearing, since in the months spent with them he found a lot of things about himself. Like the fact that he found his crew to be a family, like the way he sometimes found peace even in the chaos caused by them.

Or like the presence he grew way too fond of along the way. That witch — she truly was one, judging by the effect she had on him. Only a spell could've made his mind get so clouded, only some unknown force could've managed to soften his edges so well. She joined the crew from the first day and he believed that a spell had been casted upon him since the first time they gazed at each other.

Right. Zoro gulped down. The effect she had on him was equally annoying and pleasant.

Annoying because he should've focused on his promise to Kuina, not get lost in between fairytales. He wasn't by any means the charming prince riding a white horse and he didn't intend on becoming one anytime soon. It filled him up with feelings unknown to him. Zoro might be a fan of adventures and he had rather insane ideas — as one might say —, but such sentiments were an entirely new path to walk on.

First and foremost, it bothered him the fact that he wasn't sure he could fulfill both his promises and whatever the fuck was going on between him and the witch. He couldn't pinpoint what was happening, it was all in a blur, even if everything was clearing up whenever he saw her.

That's when he's reminded why he likes their relationship — what kind of, he didn't know. When he saw her, there were always sparkles in her eyes and the smile on her face would grow wider, lines of happiness appearing on her cheeks. The curl of her lips would make his heart skip a few beats and he would relax his shoulders unconsciously. Eyes filled with joy looked at him as if he was the very reason behind her purest sensations.

Also, not to mention how warm the depths of his chest felt when she was near. The heat would rise to his cheeks, which he sometimes found uncomfortable, but Zoro never ran away. A side of him wished so badly to go the other way and never look back, ignore her and those stupid damned feelings, but he never gathered enough courage to do so. Every single time, he would remain stuck, with his eyes stuck on her frame and fingers aching to touch and lips tingling to kiss.

God fucking dammit.

With a curse rolling off his tongue casually as he closed his eyes, the back of his head collided with the wooden wall he rested his back against. Zoro sat with his knees bent and feet planted onto the floor, only his Wado Ichimoji in his proximity. With its hilt glued to his shoulder, the sheathed sword was in between his fingers. By that time, he held it for comfort.

If that's what he could call it. The swordsman wasn't sure what else to associate it with. Or was it familiarity? The white sword was the only memory he had of a long lost friend and his first home at the dojo, by the side of his sensei. It was the only object tying him to his past, to his beginning, to times when he was much weaker, but determined nonetheless.

To care about his promise was familiar. Zoro wouldn't give it up — proof was the simple fact that he still achieved to become the strongest swordsman in the world. One day, he will meet Mihawk again and when he does, he will be stronger than the first time he encountered him at Baratie.

Looking back, it's been so long since. So long since a new life appeared before his eyes and he accepted it with no hesitation. He was a pirate, a Straw Hat, Luffy's first mate. The swordsman swore to help his captain achieve his own dream.

Those promises were familiar. The erratic heartbeats caused by the witch weren't. The sensation settling in the pits of his stomach when her gentle fingers would brush over his arm weren't. It was foreign and it didn't sit well with him.

Kuina.

He still saw her face in his dreams sometimes and it was usually her ghost haunting him. Other times, in her place would be one of his friends and each time it was harder to fall asleep.

When awake, memories of her replayed so vividly in his mind. Swords clashing together and whistling as they cut the air in half. A grin brightening up Kuina's face when he would fall on his butt and cuss her out again. They promised that one of them would become the greatest, but he was the only one capable of that, because her bones lay in a grave somewhere far away.

Zoro opened his eyes and stared at the night sky with scars scattered all over it. A calming view, even if there was tumult inside of him, hidden in between ribs that broke with each new pump of his heart. His brown eyes fell to the floor and he crossed his arms on top of his knees, gripping the sword tighter. His chest puffed up with air when he inhaled and he let out a heavy sigh.

“Zoro?” a soft whisper made him jump out of his thoughts.

The swordsman snapped his head and he was greeted by the sight of someone he didn't even know he was searching for. A side of him wished to say something along the lines of “fuck off” while the other side desperately wanted to soak into her presence.

A witch, indeed.

His eyes ran up and down her figure. She didn't seem surprised to find him there, in a rather hidden spot, which meant she didn't search for too long. Did she even search for him or did she also wish to be alone for a while? The first place to search for someone during night shifts was the crows nest.

She held two bottles of what he guessed to be alcohol and she swung them carefully before stepping closer. His chest tightened and he found it harder to breathe, even if it was inevitably easier than before at the same time. For some reason, she had that effect on him.

Maybe he knew that reason all too well, but he just avoided thinking of it.

“You told me we'd drink something together,” she reminded him in that warm voice of hers.

The sweet melody that calmed his nerves.

He didn't know what kind of energy radiated off him, but her behavior was far more gentle than usual. She wasn't hesitant, the witch never hesitated around him, she was just mindful of her actions and words.

He didn't know why for a second he saw understanding in the curl of her lips when she crouched down. Unconsciously, Zoro knitted his eyebrows together in confusion at her gestures.

The bottles hit the floor and she let go of them. Her eyes sparkled like they always did, but there was something different that time — a warmth they held only when she comforted Chopper or encouraged Usopp. Warmth similar to the shy rays of the sun of the morning, when the cold is still lingering and there's a specific scent in the air. Gentleness he only ever saw in her, because Luffy's kindness was different.

A warmth so humane that was visible for the crew alone or those in need of it.

The witch recognized something in his demeanor and Zoro had no clue what that was about. He could only see it in her gaze.

“I suppose it isn't really the perfect time for me to butt in, hm?” she whispered.

Like a promise only for him to hear. A secret.

“How'd you find me here?” he found himself speaking before he thought it through.

The question made her shrug.

“I pick up easily on your energy. It's quite unmistakable, y'know?”

There it was — one of the main reasons why she had the nickname of Witch both on the ship and outside of it. She's spoken about that for a few times and he had to admit he understood what she meant. However, the swordsman only felt those “energies” (as she liked to call them) in specific moments. He remembers that time in Lougetown when everything felt like energy instead of palpable objects, the reason why he won that fight.

Sometimes he seriously wondered if she hadn't met his sensei at some point in her life.

“What is it like?” once again, he asked before thinking.

The witch pulled her lips in a tight line and hummed, gathering the right words to describe it. Her gaze bounced around and she grimaced once, when she probably found her choice of words to be unpleasant or inappropriate — she always scrunched her nose when it was difficult to find the proper terms.

“It's sharp, but warm. Kind of steady, constantly flickering. For example, Luffy's energy is always all around the place and Chopper's gets out of control easily. Robin has the steadiest energy of all of us, even if it was kind of… strange lately.”

Zoro arched his eyebrow at the last piece of information and only received a hand waving through the air.

“Ignore the last part, I'm still figuring it out myself. No need to worry.”

The swordsman knew the energy she was talking about was different than what he felt when she was in presence, but he wondered if whatever laid in her heart interfered with her ability to distinguish his being from the others.

He watched as the witch looked at the bottles next to him and then clicked her tongue, deep in thought.

“I don't know if they'd help you tonight, but I'll let you be.”

None of those words were accusatory. They were all coming from a place of kindness and patience.

Suddenly, her fingers curled around his bicep, below the bandana wrapped around his arm. Skin on skin, her touch was hot and pleasant, even if very confusing.

What was she thinking?

His puzzled feelings were written on his face. Uncertainty laid in his dark brown eyes and his fingers held onto the sword tighter. He didn't even notice when the grip on his Wado Ichimoji loosened up.

Her gaze was reassuring as ever and she gently rubbed her thumb into his tensed muscles.

Zoro had to at least admit to himself that vulnerability was uncomfortable. Without spoken words, she picked up on it.

“I don't know for sure if I'll get to sleep tonight, so you could cut your night shift in half.” She's having issues with nightmares again? he silently wondered. “I'll be in my room, reading. Do what you see fit.”

Instantly, she was back on her feet with her back straight and walked away. The swordsman didn't know what happened or what he should understand.

He was utterly and completely confused. What just happened?

Oh. The witch gave him space and time to think. She also told him where she was in case he decided to grip at the promise of comfort and hold tightly onto it. The opportunity laid right in front of him and he was the only one to decide whether he used it to his advantage or not.

Zoro didn't notice when his shoulders relaxed. His body wasn't as tense as a few minutes ago, his back didn't feel as stiff. The exhale he left wasn't heavy anymore.

The swordsman knew what this was about. Maybe it was the time to just accept his feelings and get on with it. He had to suck it up and deal with it, even if dealing with her wasn't the right way to word it out. It always felt more like she was dealing with him.

With closed eyes, he remembered the last time her lips brushed by his. Gosh, it was so hot and his blood was bubbling like lava in his veins. It wasn't an accident, he intended on kissing her back with fever, but he had a hard time accepting everything. It was… weird. Facing that reality was troublesome.

She has yet to lose her patience. The witch remained firm and each one of her questions were answered by gestures instead of words — something familiar for him. She was far more skilled with expressing herself even when sensitive topics came up.

That was a miracle. Her presence alone could be compared to a miracle because it was completely unexpected and somehow always caressing him the right way. It was scary how accurately she could read him and the same applied to him.

The sky before his eyes continued to sparkle with stars and he remained still in his place. His fingers caressed the scabbard of his sword as he blinked in the darkness, the chill air of the night invading his lungs.

It was complicated and so simple at the same time. Zoro knew the answer — he just had to come to terms with it.

Just as age promised, the witch sat on the bed in her room with a blanket warming her up. The lamp on the nightstand by her side casted a golden light over the pages of a book sitting in her lap. It was hard to focus on the story — a captivating part of pirate's history, sometime before the appearance of Gold D. Roger.

Her thoughts were followed by the swordsman. Zoro's mood was… sad at best. She didn't expect to find him in that state, but she quickly came to the conclusion that leaving him alone might do him good.

She tapped her finger over the pages of the old book and clicked her tongue. Was it right to leave him? The witch never saw him in a similar mood and she also realized she didn't know how to help him. There could be a lot of ways to bring him back to earth or at least keep him afloat. Those ways were only known by him. All she could do was guess and hope for the best outcome.

Heavy footsteps echoed on the other side of the door. When it opened wide, there was Zoro's tall silhouette, his white sword in his hand and one bottle of alcohol in his other. He came closer, his face hard as a stone. The pink hue painting his cheeks was the only detail giving away the fact that he drank one of the bottles she brought hours ago.

“Why aren't you sleeping yet?” he said with a gruff voice as he plopped down on the mattress.

There were only a few hours left before the sun would rise up from the sea.

“You've probably guessed already,” she averted her eyes from his figure.

“Nightmares again?”

The witch only nodded, eyes focused on the book. Zoro let the sword against the couch.

“I won't fall asleep, so you could as well take a night off,” only then she looked at him again.

His darkened eyes have been locked on her since he entered the valley. The witch wanted to move, to eventually get away from his knowing gaze, but she knew there was no possible way to do it.

“Are you alright?” she blurted out.

She had to fill that silence with some kind of conversation. Maybe that wasn't exactly the wisest decision, considering his shoulders visibly tensed and he straightened his back. A frown appeared on her face. She regretted talking.

The witch figured out he needed more time to sort his thoughts.

“Why don't you go to sleep?” she tilted her head to the side. “The fight has worn us all out. You could rest for a while.”

“And you?”

“We'll be sailing for a few days. I can sleep ‘till afternoon.”

“Nothing will happen for as long as you're on this ship with us,” the reassurance slipped so easily. “Do you trust us?”

“More than anything,” the witch responded with a faint smile.

Several weeks ago, her answer and reaction would've been so different. She made so much progress since she first met them, her trust now fully laying in their palms. Long ago, she would've backed away at such a question and, if they were lucky enough, the witch would admit she “needs time to adjust”.

At first, all he did was lean close enough for his shoulder to touch hers. The swordsman only intended to enjoy some peace while he shared his booze with the witch. From time to time, she'd gulp from the bottle and then give it back to him before continuing her lecture. After each two minutes, the room would be filled by the rustling of pages.

It didn't last long until he fell into her trap and tiredness dragged him glued to her. With his head in her lap, Zoro bumped his nose in her thigh. The witch's fingers ran through his hair and he let out an audible exhale, eyes closing instantly. Greeted by darkness, he felt warm not only on the inside. The blanket she curled around herself earlier was now covering his upper body as he sunk into the soft mattress and her.

One of his hands curled around her knee and he dug his fingers into her flesh. Her leg jerked slightly at the unexpected touch, but when he tried to move away, she muttered a sweet “It's okay”, stopping his movements.

The oxygen in his lungs was exchanged with her perfume and he bit back a groan. Her voice was like a lullaby, even if there weren't many words rolling off her tongue. Zoro wasn't bothered by the light of the lamp, completely forgetting about the world around him once her fingers continued running through his hair.

His hand traveled up, until it fully rested on her thigh, the warmth of her body seeping through the thin material of her pants. Truth be told, he's never felt better.

She was a remedy. His remedy.

“Good night.”

Zoro heard her whisper solely because he was near her; otherwise he would've confounded it with the night breeze.

Maybe giving in to her affection isn't that bad.

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