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strawberrystepmom · 4 months

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gojo x f!reader. very self ship coded. fluffy, a little hurt comfort-y. cw for light misogyny from higher ups. wc 1.5k

divider thanks to @/cafekitsune like usual

“Anything in those bags for me?”

You snort, bare feet padding across the shiny wooden floors of Satoru’s apartment that is also technically your apartment despite the fact you keep your apartment across town in case he’s really on your nerves, dropping them on the floor in front of you. He looks over the edge of the sofa, one arm slung over the back carelessly, and you can’t help but smile at him looking so relaxed despite the fact you lack the same ease.

“Nah, these are for me,” you retort, not mentioning the small box with the delicately wrapped lingerie at the bottom of the largest bag. He’ll have to wait until later to find out about that one. You leave the bags behind and walk toward the couch, leaning over the edge to give him a kiss.

“What’s the occasion then?”

Reaching down to wipe your gloss from his bottom lip, he nips at the tip of your thumb and you smile. He’s good at disarming you, something both of you have learned over the years spent side by side, and you climb over the edge of the couch and plop down on top of him.

“Higher ups.”

He hums, the sound laced with disbelief.

“I don’t think you’ve ever broken a rule in your life. What do they want?”

Giggling, you roll your eyes. Sometimes he behaves as if he forgets you’re milder now than you used to be, the fury of your youth something that became unimportant entering into your twenties.

“You know very well I’ve broken many rules in my life, especially theirs.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

Sighing, you snuggle into his chest and press your cheek to the area right above his heart, the steady beating comforting your anxious nature. He wraps one arm around your back and traces lazy circles over the back of your arm.

“They think I’ve given my students too much freedom, Maki especially. It’s a scolding.”

Admitting your anger aloud would feel like a loss so you simply sigh, pressing your face against Satoru’s chest and closing your eyes. He continues rubbing circles into your skin, watching the tension slowly melt out of your limbs, but now he is wound up.

How dare they question your methods? None of them have any clue what it’s like to be in the role the two of you both are, strength removed from the equation, and it feels like yet another overreach of their power.

“They’ve been on my ass for months, this is just the latest thing they’re mad about.”

Satoru scoffs, shifting and sitting up. He pulls you with him, keeping you pressed to his torso while getting comfortable. His face gives away every ounce of his concern, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed.

“What do you mean months? How often have you been seeing them?”

Your face doesn’t hide your surprise that he has somehow missed out on the last five times you’ve been summoned to address what would otherwise be very routine issues to be handled between yourself and your immediate supervisor Yaga.

“This is like the sixth time they’ve asked me in to talk…” you trail off and he reaches up to cup your cheek.

“There’s more you want to say.”

You nod and half shrug.

“Feels kind of pointless to say it though.”

He pinches your cheek and you smile, trying to shake him off of you but giving up and after a moment, giving in.

“They’re mad at me because we’re together. This is a punishment for distracting you and everyone else I’ve mentioned the situation to agrees with me.”

Despite being a tiny bit annoyed you’ve seemed to discuss these meetings with everyone but him, he understands. The mythical heads of the sorcerer community have always tried to keep his leash just loose enough to let him roam but tight enough to keep him controlled and now that is extending to you in the form of bureaucracy and bullshit.

Gojo Satoru, head of the Gojo clan and the strongest sorcerer, won’t allow it.

“What have the other meetings been about?”

A serious Satoru is a beautiful and terrifying sight, his jaw ticking and his face set in a hard glare. It isn’t often he gets this fired up and you’ve intentionally kept the situation quiet to avoid giving him something else to worry about. Selfishly, it makes your heart beat faster knowing that he’s so willing to jump to your defense.

“First one was about my technique and the logs I’ve been keeping of exorcisms performed in my domain, three of them were about my students, the most recent one was about, well, you.”

He frowns and you know he’s asking you to elaborate although you’re embarrassed to even be discussing the most recent meeting. You cried the moment you left the meeting, tucking into a corner long enough to compose yourself to keep Nitta from worrying about you the drive back to the campus.

“They reminded me we aren’t allowed to go on missions together.”

A humorless chuckle is all he can manage. The gall of these people shouldn’t surprise him the way that it does after all these years yet they still manage to pull one over every now and then.

“What exactly was said?”

He sees the shift in your face and knows immediately their words must have been full of bluster and cruelty disguised as tradition. Of course they aimed them at his partner, his girlfriend, rather than the man they have so many issues with. Satoru softens, pulling your head toward his lips and pressing them against your forehead.

“They said they won’t pay for us to go on “little lover’s vacations” just because we are unprofessional.”

The mocking serious tone you use to mimic these powerful men makes him laugh and he kisses your forehead again. He knows you well enough to know that you are still holding back everything that was said to you but he understands why.

“Well, fuck them.”

Laughing and shaking your head, you lean into Satoru’s big body with a contented sigh.

“We’ll see how tomorrow goes. Maybe I’ll tell them just that.”

You both know that you would never but he laughs at you anyway.

“If you don’t I will.”

You were happy to let the conversation die there, instead mentioning that there may be one thing in your shopping bags for your spoiled boyfriend. It served as distraction enough that you didn’t have to discuss the heavy stuff and the evening was spent focusing on more pressing matters.

This morning, though, Satoru isn’t willing to focus on other matters.

Riding the elevator to the bottom floor where these meetings take place, you straighten out your new blouse and ensure your skirt is acceptably pressed above the knee. Anxiety runs wild through your body but you breathe through it, sweaty palms clutching the handle of your purse.

The elevator doors slide open and you step out, jumping and shrieking in terror at the sight of a blindfolded Gojo standing in front of you.

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?”

He grins and you swear it lights up the dim surroundings.

“I’m not going to let them treat you that way.”

The support means the world but the notion of him saving you makes you uncomfortable, shifting your weight from foot to foot where you stand.

“You don’t have to stand up for me, Satoru…”

He shakes his head and puts one hand on your shoulder, burying the other in his pocket nonchalantly.

“Oh I’m only going to be supporting you from the outside. I know you’re more than capable of telling them to stick their old man opinions up their asses, isn’t that what got you in trouble your third year?”

Smiling at the memory, you nod. That was indeed what got seventeen year old you in enough trouble you were off missions and in detention for a month.

Yaga let you watch TV and tap away on your handheld game device the entire time in lieu of actual punishment.

Satoru’s grin softens into something sweeter and just for you.

“Don’t forget who you are. You aren’t just my girlfriend.”

His emphasis and both just and my make you laugh but you quickly compose yourself, straightening your shoulders and spine and letting Satoru pluck a bit of lint off of your top. He claps your shoulder and shakes you just enough that you strangely feel steadier, ready to face whatever opposition lies down the flight of stairs a few feet away.

“Thank you, Satoru.”

He shrugs.

“I’m just looking forward to listening to someone else handling you while you’re mad.”

Another nod is exchanged between the two of you and he squeezes your shoulder one last time before turning you in the direction of the staircase. He pats your ass once and you slap at his hand but confidence is all you feel heading down lower.

Gojo has never been more certain he picked the right one in his life.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoken #kendall writes

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bratzforchris · 8 months

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Love Me Harder

In which a ruthless, violent gang member meets the innocent girl from his past ♡

Author's note: hello everyone and welcome to Love Me Harder! This will be a multiple part work and I am so so so excited to expand on it. Thank you for all your support!

Warnings: alcohol/drug use, violence, weapons, sexual/mature content, stalking, mental health

Prologue

Never in all her twenty-three years of life did Melody think she would be the girl that got abandoned outside of a dive bar. She'd never been a girl that every boy wanted, but she had also never been a girl that got ditched randomly.

The strawberry-blond huffed, angrily trying to click her phone open to check the time, only to see that it was dead. Melody sighed and shoved it into her coat pocket, blowing out a curl of air towards the midnight January sky. Looking around proved that most people were still inside the bar, enjoying New Year's Eve, or rather, Day at this point. The only person she saw was a tall figure leaning against the side of the building under the sign that displayed 'No Loitering' in big letters.

He'd been here since she came out. The girl knew she should feel scared, or at least uneasy, but he hadn't bothered her. He'd been content to chainsmoke, looking out at the street with a dead gaze. Part of Melody was urging her to go up to the man and ask for his phone to at least make a call, but the other part of her told her to stay away. Even though he didn't seem dangerous, he very well could be.

Before long, the need for warmth overpowered the need to feel safe. Melody crept over to the man, waiting until he finally looked her way. He was shockingly beautiful with blond curls and piercing blue eyes, even in the dark.

"Excuse me, sir? I hate to ask you, but can I borrow your phone?" she asked tentatively, but with an air of sweetness.

"Hey sweetheart." the man grinned.

"Luke?" Melody nearly gasped.

"Who the fuck are you? Do I know you?" he spat.

"You don't remember me?" she asked rather sadly.

Melody didn't know why he would remember her, but the small part of her that was still sweetly naive believed that Luke thought about her sometimes the way she thought about him. She had tried to help him, she really had. But damned souls can't be saved from their fate.

"I know every corner of this city, darlin'. I don't have time to memorize every little innocent redhead that, let me guess," Luke paused to look her up and down. "Got broken up with."

"I...I thought you were..." Melody trailed off, not wanting to be rude, especially not before the blond followed through with the favor she was asking.

"You can say it." Luke said, taking a puff of his cigarette, before throwing it to the concrete and putting it out with his boot.

"...in prison?" she whispered softly.

"Got out last year."

"Do you really not remember me?" the girl asked.

Luke looked at her with those blue eyes that could cut through stone. He still dressed the exact same way he did in high school. Black shirt, black leather jacket, black skinny jeans, and black, leather combat boots. Melody could still his tattoos peeking out of the collar of his shirt and the ones behind his ears when his hair would move. She remembered some of the older ones, but it was clear that many had been added, done both by professional artists and by street artists.

"I didn't forget about you." the blond said, not fully answering the question.

Melody looked up at skyline of New York City, wondering what to say next. She didn't want to make Luke mad, but it was cold and she needed to get home. Besides, this wasn't the same boy from six years ago. The streets had hardened him and made him cruel and calculating.

"Can I just use your phone?" she asked him.

"No." Luke said flatly.

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"I need to get home..." she had vowed she wouldn't cry, but Melody's eyes were beginning to fill with tears.

"I can take you there. Best I can do." Luke shrugged.

"I dunno..."

"Are you scared of me?" the blond asked, turning to her with almost a wolflike smirk on his face. "Scared I'll get you involved in my big, bad crimes?"

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arkiwii · 6 months

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Little prompt I wrote after Lone Trail. Silence's new life is a huge change to her, and it's something that impacts me a lot in her character. There's normally no spoilers other what is said in her alter's files. I wrote it at the first person, from Silence's point of view. I post it here completely because it's short, so it's alright.

I cried writing this so I hope everyone will cry equally, or else im a little wussy baby

"Just a dance"

Flashes of light and deafening noises took away my senses. It took me more than a minute to get used to the new environment behind the door. I knew I could not turn away or hide myself. Silent as my name, I now became the center of their conversation, the rising star they look up to.

Dressed in a way too luxurious black dress, I stepped carefully in the big hall. At my side, Saria was here, equally beautifully dressed. Many faces looked at us, different expressions, joyous greetings, and I replied to each of them individually, a forced smile on my face.

I could smell the alcohol, the perfume, as an orchestra concert added to the cacophony. Yet, I never had been one to enjoy attending parties.

It was now a common occurrence. On special occasions, me and Saria needed to attend these celebrations, as the representative of Rhine Lab. We could decline them, surely, but for our image, and to get the chance to create links and give birth to interesting collaborations and projects with other companies, we had to. It was not pleasing, and neither of us enjoyed it. Well, surely Saria has more experience - but me, I used to be nothing but a researcher.

I can't recall how long I spoke. It felt like words flowed from my mouth without ceasing. Many different voices, many new faces, a flow of questions, I had to keep up. I could feel my throat getting dry, and my chest vibrating from my voice. Drinks were turned down, worries were dismissed, my image had remained flawless.

Sometimes, I ask myself if I appreciate my new life. Working as the executive advisor of Component Control, as well as Rhine Lab's representative on the Scientific Ethics Consensus Committee, is… Different. This is not a simple work as a researcher like I used to. This is no longer a matter of entering a laboratory only for results to leave.

There are times where I wonder if I am suited for this. Shy, introverted, social interactions are always the greatest of difficulties to me. Crowds scare me, eyes on me make me feel heavy.

These waters are brand new. And it was an ocean. One I stepped in, voluntarily. I was - no, I still am afraid. I feel like I have no idea where I was heading to. But I continued to step forward, deeper and deeper in the waters. Without looking behind.

I can not look behind. I must face the future. For Rhine Lab, for Trimounts, for Columbia. For science as a whole. Because, if I did not, if it was not me, maybe it would have been someone else, maybe it would never have happened. Limits would have continued being pushed, lives would have been taken away again and again, morality and ethics broken. I am the only one suited for this.

More than once I wanted to break down.

"Would you like to dance?"

But I never did.

I took her hand. I thought that perhaps, a moment to take my soul away would do me good. I never had been a great dancer, so I let Saria take the lead. Her face remained neutral, her eyes fixed on mine. Yet I could still find comfort in this never changing person.

It felt as if the world around us faded away. It was only us, for this moment, alone. Addictive. I did not want it to stop. On the left, on the right, my arms around her neck, her hands on my waist. No words were told from the moment I accepted her invitation. We did not need them.

I understood why I kept going. It's because she's here. She has been my lighthouse, from the very first moment we met. I am where I am today, thanks to her. Because I followed her steps, I looked up to her, I wanted to be like her. Stronger, able to protect those I care, able to step forward to the future. And despite the never constant chances in my life, she remained the same as ever, familiar, comforting.

It hurts to say that I need her. But I know she needs me equally.

I closed my eyes. I let her steps, her movements guide me. Even in the pitch darkness, I could still see the light.

It was just a dance, to the outside view.

But it was the world, to me.

#I suppose we can say there's Sariasil content but #it's up to how you want to see it #based on this sentence in her files #“So Saria is indispensable. To both Rhine Lab and me.”#arknights #stalkiwific #olivia silence #saria

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baxteravenue · 2 years

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Out of the Woods

summary: seeing your ex at a party never works out, sometimes it’s for the best though.

a/n: i wrote this when i was heartbroken. sorry for being mia, next post should be sweeter.

You were mad and terribly jealous. You knew you didn’t have the right to feel that way but you couldn’t help it. He looked good, almost too good and he was making another girl giggle the same way he used to make you.

You broke up with him though. You had every right to make that decision though, he was treating you like shit and you hardly ever saw him due to his high demand schedule. Just because he was Jack Harlow the famous rapper didn’t mean that he couldn’t be Jack, your boyfriend anymore.

Jack would have never pulled the plug, he would have kept you trailing behind him. He would have made you feel even more stupid as he claimed to be single in every interview he did, knowing you were waiting for him at home. He would have played you like a fool as he came home from overseas with dozens of new girls' numbers in his phone.

So five months ago from now you had broken up with him over text, while he was in Australia, and then you proceeded to block his number and completely delete him from your life.

And it worked for a while… until now.

“Holy shit he’s back from tour?” Marlie, one of yours and Jack’s mutual friends, spoke before looking over at you, “Do you mind?”

You shook your head, “I’m not petty.”

It was true, you didn’t care if your friends were still friends with him. It’s not like he fucked them over. So you watched carefully from across the room as basically everyone at the party made their way at some point over to Jack to say hi.

You scrolled aimlessly on your phone, trying your best to seem like you were not bitter and ready to leave. It was hard though when his voice and laugh cut through like a hot knife.

“So you weren’t gonna say hi, I’m guessing?” The familiar voice had now sat right beside you and even though you couldn’t see anyone looking at you, you could feel the entire room's eyes on you and the now very famous person beside you.

You scoffed, refusing to look over at him. “Believe it or not, not everyone is obligated to say something to you… No matter how many awards you win.”

Jack knew you would be cold, he just didn’t expect you to be so ice cold. “Y/N.” His voice was barely above a whisper, and his words were shaky. You were the only one who could ever get him like that. “Look at me please.”

His voice though, how sweet it got whenever he talked to you. His voice, the same way yours affected him, his did the same to you.

“So you’re just gonna ignore me?”

“So you’re just gonna ignore me?” An unfamiliar voice came from behind you, hands crawling to your waist.

You quickly turned around, stepping back. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

Jack’s eyes widened as he looked at you, someone he in fact did not know. “I am so fuckin’ sorry I thought you were… Oh shit… My bad.”

You raised a brow, “Yeah I’m not Gracie.”

“No kidding huh.” Jack rubbed at the back of his neck embarrassed, “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you like that.”

You laughed at how bad he visibly felt. “I’m Y/N.”

“Jack.” He smiled back at you.

You quickly stood up, not wanting to deal with Jack. Your heart was thumping hard against your chest as you made your way through the dark loud house, passing by sweaty bodies. You no longer wanted to be there anymore.

Nah, I’m good just give me a second

That’s cool I’ll be right back

Give me a sec

You could hear his voice following you even as you made your way out the front door, starting your walk down the block to where you parked.

“Y/N!”

“What?!” You practically yelled, turning around to face Jack. “What Jack? What could you possibly want?”

“Really? What could I want?” He looked hurt, “What could I want from the girl who broke up with me over text when I’m on a different continent and then blocked me?”

You stared at him, not answering.

“I came home and all your stuff was gone from our home.” His voice cracked.

“Your home.” The words felt like venom coming out of your mouth, “That was never our home. In order for it to be our home, it’s required for you to actually be there, to sleep there, to eat there, to live there. I never woke up to you Jack. I could count on my hands how many times we actually stayed there together.”

“I—“

“And did I actually break up with you? Because in all those interviews you were claiming you were single while I was at our supposed home. I was going crazy Jack and you weren't there. I was lonely and you didn’t care. I was always putting you first and I finally decided to put myself first.” You were now sobbing.

“Bab- Y/N, you know why I always said I was single in those interviews… For show, you knew how it was, how I need to seem accessible.” Jack has no idea why he’s trying to make excuses.

“So it was for show when you cheated on me when you were in Los Angeles? When you cheated on me in Chicago, in New York, in Atlanta… In Louisville.” Your voice was shot, barely coming out. “It was all for show?”

“You’re home.” You smiled, getting up from the couch, “I missed you baby.”

It was three in the morning and you had stood up even though your body was begging you to go to sleep. Jack however had paid you barely any mind, giving you a soft kiss on your forehead and heading straight to the restroom.

“How was the show? It looked really good.” You spoke on the other side of the closed bathroom door. Silence. “Uhm… okay Im gonna go to sleep Jack.”

While you tucked yourself into bed on the other side of the restroom Jack was pushing his foundation stained shirt to the bottom of the laundry basket and was trying his best to remove the lipstick stains from his chest.

Jack quickly showered, letting any trace of any other woman who wasn’t you swirl down the drain.

“I missed you baby.” Jack mumbles as he gets into bed, cuddling next to you. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You cuddle into him too, loving the feeling of his arms wrapped around you.

“I really do love you baby, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Jack means every word he says and in his head he promises not to be stupid anymore.

Two weeks from that exact night, he finds himself with a blonde wrapped around him while you’re at home alone.

At this point Jack knew that you knew about all of those times but for you to actually say it to his face… he felt like shit. He hurt you.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.” You look up at Jack, wiping away your tears, “But sorry isn’t going to change anything.”

#jack harlow #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow blurb #come home the kids miss you

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corrupt-touch · 2 years

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Mother Mary, won't you whisper (Suptober 2022 - Day 8, Sober)

Suptober 2022, Day 8: Sober

Relationships: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Rating: E Word Count: 2529

Tags: Set post-14x18 (Absence), Sexual Content, Castiel's Deal with the Empty, Mary Winchester's (Second Death), title from the Tool song "Sober", and inspired by the lyrics of that song

You’re dead to me. You’re dead to me. Castiel whispers Dean’s words, over and over, to himself in the 3 am silence of the Bunker. Because as long as he says these words, as long as he knows he’s lost Dean forever, Castiel knows he’s safe from eternal damnation. As long as he believes he’s nothing to Dean, as long as he believes his existence is worthless to Dean, Castiel knows he’ll never give himself the permission he needs to be happy, to be dragged away to nothing.

Castiel can still smell Mary Winchester’s funeral pyre, he can still feel the overwhelming need to comfort Dean, to hold Dean against him, the way he’s held Dean so many times, so many nights that they’d kept secret. And Castiel can still feel Sam Winchester stopping him from reaching out to Dean in front of the flames, pushing him back, forbidding him from doing what every single part of him ached to do.

What Castiel can’t feel anymore is the way Dean’s body would give into his, in dirty motel rooms and abandoned warehouses and the back of the Impala and on Dean’s bedroom floor. He can’t feel the way Dean’s mouth would reach for his, the way Dean would use their kiss to muffle the sound of something that Castiel can only describe as salvation and sacrilege all at once. And he can’t feel Dean’s legs all entangled with his own as he watched Dean sleep. This, all of it, was theirs, and theirs alone. Some kind of covert mission that they carried out in the shadows, something that they denied even to themselves sometimes. Maybe Castiel always knew it would end like this. Maybe, when he made that deal, his life over Jack’s, he was right when he believed he could never be happy. That the one thing that Castiel wants, for Dean to let Castiel love him, was something he can never ever have.

Read on AO3 (or keep reading below)

In the quiet air broken only by the hum of a lamp, Castiel tells himself, convinces himself, this is all his fault. He should have told Dean, he should have told Sam, about Jack. That something was wrong with Jack. He should have told them about the snake Jack turned to ash. He was so scared, though, so sure he could fix it, make it all better. Because he had to make it all better. Jack was his responsibility, his family. But now the looming fate that lurched over him, that threatened to pull him into the void every time his bare skin ran across Dean’s in the darkness, is gone. And all Castiel feels is the numbness of this night, the numbness of wishing he could be back in Dean’s bed.

Running his fingers along the table, along the illuminated map of the world that shines under his touch, Castiel closes his eyes and prays for the Empty to just take him now.

***

The sound of life, the presence of someone standing behind him, interrupts Castiel’s plea. He knows it’s Dean touching him, knows it’s Dean digging his fingertips into his shoulder, because this feeling of solace and confusion that’s washing over him, is what happens every time Dean pulls him closer. What happens every time Dean begs Castiel to take him in all the way he knows Castiel was never supposed to have him.

Castiel turns his face up to Dean, whose eyes are worn and red, and who’s holding a bottle of something. Dean tugs on the collar of Castiel’s trenchcoat, tugs until Castiel is standing up, tugs until Castiel is facing him.

“What are you doing?” Castiel tries to look away, tries to look down at the ground.

“I’m going to get really fucking drunk, and maybe I shouldn’t be alone tonight, and you’re here.” Dean says, letting Castiel’s body fall against his own.

“Dean—I’m sorry about—” Castiel lets his words trail off when he sees Dean’s expression, vacant and full of some kind of despair he’s never seen before all at once.

“Don’t even say it. Don’t talk about it. Don’t talk about her.” Dean’s fingers tighten around the material of Castiel’s coat. “Just fucking stay with me tonight.”

“Is that what you need?” Castiel clenches his fist in the flannel of Dean’s shirt.

“Yeah, Cas, that’s what I need right now. To drink until I forget that I just lost my mother again. To forget that today, you told me my mother is in Heaven with my goddamn father. To do whatever else I need to do to just forget about my life right now.” Dean takes a step back, pulling Castiel along with him, until there’s nothing in between their bodies except for the space carved out by the bottle Dean is holding, until his lips are almost against Castiel’s. “What I said to you—I was angry, I’m still angry—”

“We don’t need to talk about it,” Castiel says. “But I really shouldn’t stay with you. We shouldn’t be together, not like that, not tonight. I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Whatever you want, Cas. Do what you want.” Dean releases Castiel from his grasp, turning down the corridor to his bedroom, the sound of the liquid in the bottle moving from side-to-side echoing off the walls.

And, alone again, Castiel mumbles, “You’re dead to him, you’re dead to him,” to no one, to himself, to the lurking shadow that’s waiting for him to feel something. That’s waiting for him to feel one fleeting moment of relief from Dean’s words, from Dean’s body.

He tells himself that he needs to resist this, he needs to deny himself what’s always been forbidden. But Castiel knows, even the rules of an abandoned God, even the threat of condemnation, can’t stop Castiel from giving Dean what he needs.

***

From the glass rim of a bottle, Dean lets the whiskey drip down his throat. He can barely taste it, because all of his senses are blurred, because all he can hear and all he can see is his mother, his mother who’s dead and gone, and who’s never coming back. He wants it all to stop, he needs it all to stop, and all he wants is for Castiel to make it all go away. Because, as furious as Dean is, he knows, there’s no one else who can make him feel the way Castiel does. Even now.

But maybe Castiel really isn’t coming. Maybe Castiel really won’t stay with him tonight, when he’s needs it more than ever. Dean pours more whiskey into his mouth, lets it flow through his body, lets it burn through his insides, until he pretends that he can’t feel the anguish of losing someone again. Of having to lose his mother to flames once, and then losing her again to the Devil’s Son.

He sits on the edge of his mattress, until he’s dizzy, until the room is unsteady, and when his door finally creaks open, when Castiel stands over him, he doesn’t need to say a word. This is their routine, that they’ve been practicing for so many years, so many times, that they do it without talking, without thinking. They find each other, alone, in some sealed-off corner of wherever. They try to convince themselves there’s some other way this can go. They try to convince themselves this is all meaningless, even though they know they’ve both given up trying to feel this, trying to feel anything, with someone other than each other. They kiss, they undress, they do things to each other that only they know how to do. They lay together for hours in the aftermath of each other’s bodies and then the next morning they pretend it never happened. Morning, sunshine. Want some coffee? Like they didn’t just fuck each other senseless two hours before.

And if he weren’t already drunk, and if he wasn’t so riddled with rage and guilt, Dean would tell Castiel, all he wants, all he’s ever wanted for so long, is to start this over from the beginning. To maybe do this right, or better, to let everyone know about it, about them. To roll over in the middle of the night and tell Castiel the truth about how he feels, to let the words I love you escape from his mouth as something other than a death sentence. To finally say what he’s tried to say so many times, without regret, without fear.

But Dean knows none of that will ever be reality for him, or for Castiel, and he knows, that all he needs tonight, is to feel one second of respite. So, he stands up, stumbles forward to Castiel, and he kisses him, moves his hands inside of Castiel’s trenchcoat. Castiel is completely still, completely silent, as Dean’s lips struggle against his own, but he gives in, reciprocates, tastes the cheap alcohol along Dean’s tongue, runs his hands along Dean’s face. Even as Dean leans into his touch, even as Dean closes his eyes and presses his cheek against Castiel’s palm, Castiel tries to convince himself that this is nothing to Dean, that he’s just a warm body that can fill Dean’s bed tonight.

Castiel convinces himself, not to let himself find any happiness, in this moment, in Dean, as Dean says, “Please, Cas, I need you. I need to pretend everything is okay. I need to pretend I don’t fucking lose everyone.”

***

Sometimes, when they do this, they take each other’s clothes off. Sometimes, they let their hands linger under their clothing, along half-exposed skin, before their bare flesh finally touches. But tonight, Dean drops his flannel shirt onto the floor, lets his t-shirt land somewhere across the room. He shoves his jeans to his ankles and steps out of them and he stands, in front of Castiel, naked, drunk, wishing that for once, Castiel would tell him what he needs to hear. That for once, Castiel would take him, like this, mumble I love you, before their bodies found a way to be together as one.

Instead, Castiel lets his coat, his suit jacket, everything, fall away from his body, landing in the tangled pile of Dean’s clothes. And for seconds, or minutes, or maybe longer, their eyes move across each other’s bodies, across places they’ve now only shared with each other for so long. “Cas—make me forget. Let me forget about everything, just for a little while. Tell me everything is all right.” Dean steps forward.

Castiel reaches out for Dean’s wrists, pulls him closer, turns him around, closes his arms around Dean’s chest. “Everything is fine. We’re fine. Everything is perfect.” His mouth runs across Dean’s shoulders, to the nape of Dean’s neck. “Everything.”

Dean places his hands over Castiel’s, drags them down to his waist. “Right, everything. We’re so fucking happy, right, Cas? Tell me how fucking happy we are.” He wobbles on his feet, the near-empty whiskey bottle somewhere on the floor.

“You and me, we’re happy. You and me, everything is perfect.” Castiel buries his face against Dean’s neck. Dean leans back to let Castiel’s mouth find its way to his, as Castiel says, “It always will be.”

Dean knows every single word is a lie, but he lets himself believe it. He lets himself trust Castiel, trust that they can be happy someday, while their bodies are pressed together, while Castiel’s hands are all over him. He lets himself believe that this is some other world, some other reality, where he’s allowed to get a single fucking thing he wants. He let himself believe that his mother is alive, that he doesn’t feel betrayed by everyone, even himself.

And when Castiel is finally inside of him, when Castiel is finally fucking him like he has so many times before, Dean reaches up into Castiel’s hair, tugs on it, pulls him closer and kisses him. And he tells himself he’s still angry, still so angry, but it doesn’t even matter. Because this still feels the same as it always has, and Dean doesn’t know what that means, and he doesn’t care right now. He wraps his legs up and around Castiel, lets his fingers tangle with Castiel’s while their bodies move together, while Dean’s bedsprings crush underneath them.

Maybe it’s all the alcohol, or maybe it’s the absence of everything that Dean feels right now, maybe it’s the way Castiel says his name when comes, that makes Dean say it, even though he’s said it before. Even though he’s begged Castiel never to say it back. “Cas—I still love you. What I said—I didn’t mean—”

Castiel lets his body fall away from Dean’s, lets himself back up over the edge of the bed. And the way Dean says it, all spread out in front of him, the way Dean’s voice cracks as he speaks, it overwhelms Castiel with a feeling he knows he can’t feel, not right now. He can’t feel something that will summon the ancient entity that can’t wait to swallow him whole, not when Jack is in trouble, not when Sam and Dean need him more than ever. “No, no—I’m dead to you. That’s true, right? Tell me I’m dead to you.”

“Cas—” Dean sits up, reaches for Castiel, reaches for him to come back, but Castiel finds his clothes, scattered among Dean’s on the floor, pulls on his pants, leaves his shirt unbuttoned across his body. “No, Cas, I meant what I just said. I’ve meant it every time I’ve said it. Fuck, what’s wrong with you?”

“I just—can’t do this right now.” Castiel turns, drops his fingers to the doorknob. “I’m sorry, I need to go.”

***

Surrounded by no one again, Dean pulls his bedsheets over his body, every part of him devoid of feeling, of warmth. He doesn’t know, sometimes, why he can’t control it. This anger inside of him. Or why, when he’s with Castiel, when he’s lost in Castiel, why he keeps telling Castiel what he obviously doesn’t want to hear. Now he’s alone again. And when he’s alone like this, when all he can hear is the sound of his own breath and the sound of his own thoughts, he lets himself fall apart.

“I don’t know what to do, Mom.” Dean’s words stumble into his pillow. “Tell me what I’m supposed to do when you left me again, when everyone just leaves me?”

***

Underneath the broken moonlight that falls underneath the trees outside the Bunker, Castiel drops onto his knees, turning his face up to the star-scarred Kansas sky. Maybe, if Castiel knew there was a God, a God who was listening, a God who hadn’t run away over and over, he would submit forever, just to make this all better. To bring back Mary Winchester. To give him and Dean a chance of something that doesn’t only exist behind hushed locked doors. But no one is listening to Castiel, no one cares. Except for the shadow that’s waiting for him to finally feel the sun on his face, to finally drag him to endless sleep.

#suptober22 #suptober2022 #destiel #deancas #destiel fic

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whump-in-the-closet · 1 year

Note

For the ask game you just reblogged, 10, 18, or 36 with a character of your choice!

thanks so much for the ask! (from this ask game) I used my character chiar because he always gets himself into situations like so

and for context it happens roughly sometime after this piece

masterlist.

10. left for dead

18. broken bones

36. creative restraints

cw: left for dead, broken fingers, trapped in a fishing net, implied beating, vague suicidal thoughts, magic system that manifests as a voice in the characters head, inhuman whumpee

***

“Leave him, he won’t last the night.”

The lamps reflected dully on the crowd of liquid shapes that had formed on the edge of the dock.

There were a few murmurs of dissent but one by one, the figures drifted off. With a parting kick at the limp shape on the ground, the last figure trailed off, dropping a blood-stained stick behind them. The wood creaked underneath their feet and then all was silent.

Wind blew up from the lake, whistling against the metalwork and piles of netting that lay discarded. Nothing moved. The shadows condensed around a net, receding and then growing larger like a small ocean onto themselves. Or like the shadows were breathing.

The net moved– not by a lot. But trapped inside it, Chiar stirred. He instantly regretted it. Moving was not optimal.

The wind brushed against his face, smacking him with the smell of fish and mud. Chiar gagged, only to regret doing that too.

There was no release from the aching pain that spread through every limb in his body. It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt–

Pull it together.

He needed to move. He needed to leave the town before morning. He needed to pull it together or when they found him still alive, they might just throw him in the harbor.

You always get yourself into a mess. Should have listened to me and killed ‘em.

Chiar ignored the voice in his head and braced himself. He would have to sit up– despite the fact it felt like his entire right side had been beaten to a pulp. Oh, god, that was going to hurt. So, so, so bad. Why couldn’t he just stay on the ground? Yes, he was lying in his own blood and trapped in a net, but at least it was better than trying to move.

Even thinking about moving made him want to roll into the harbor anyway.

Shouldn’t have been so vulnerable. Should have attacked them first.

Shut up.

Was breathing supposed to hurt? He didn’t think it was, because he remembered breathing was fine just before the first of the oh-so-lovely-citizens had tried to bash his head in.

There had been so many.

You really should have killed them.

Ignoring the voice in his head was getting harder and harder by the second. Between the voice and the pain, it was hard to think clearly.

He needed to get up. That much he knew.

Chiar moved his left hand slightly to the side, the wood wet. Sticky. Probably from the blood he’d coughed up. He would need to check to see if he’d lost any teeth. Later. Not now. But that wasn’t too bad. Then, his right hand. And that was worse. He choked back a shout. A quick glance confirmed what he had feared– even in the darkness, he knew the bones weren't supposed to look like that. Fingers weren't supposed to be twisted and snapped.

Chiar looked away, staring up through the net. There were no stars, and the sky, cut up by the pieces of rope, was as dark as the lake.

How are you going to get out of this one?

Chiar slowly pulled his hand close to him. Even more slowly, he moved all his weight onto his left arm. Then, as quickly as possible, he pushed himself up. He cried out in pain before collapsing again, black dots swirling in his vision.

The weighted net should not have been that hard to throw off. But he could not manage it. The wind brushed against the cryptid’s face, but he could not feel it.

#so yeah #chiar gets beat up again nothing new #and voila #angst and whump #for anons enjoyment #answered asks #troy talks #look i made my own tag

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noteguk · 3 years

Text

bad influence | jjk | m

— summary; in which you know Jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time.

— contents and warnings; pwp, badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, car sex, dirty talk, fingering, hair pulling, breast play, jk has a big dick and an attitude, unprotected sex (condoms are your friends), jk being kind of a douche, use of the word “slut”, cum eating, creampie, cockwarming, possessiveness, he slaps her ass like once, enemies to fuckbuddies pretty much

— words; 4.5k

— author’s note; I got carried away because I don’t know how to control myself!!! Also bad boy Jungkook is a fucking concept and I’m exhausted. Have fun. // BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

You didn’t even know who you were trying to convince when you told yourself that you wouldn’t fall for Jungkook’s cheap charms anymore because, clearly, that wasn’t working. Every time you saw him, every dumb promise you made in front of the mirror came crumbling down, erasing your defenses along with it.

That whole “falling for the bad boy” fiasco was really pathetic, and you knew that terribly well. You thought you had prepared yourself well enough to see through that mess of testosterone and leather jackets, of hollow smirks and messy dark hair. You knew better than to get involved with someone that didn’t take anything seriously and, worse, that mocked you for doing the opposite.

You knew that Jeon Jungkook was nothing but trouble and, yet, you came crawling back to him every single time.

“Fuck,” he moaned against your mouth, his eyes flickering shut at another roll of your hips. His voice was so deep, so rough, that you felt yourself clenching around nothing, a small whimper dripping from your lips as you pressed your panties against his bulge one more time. “You should wear skirts more often, you look like a sexy schoolgirl.”

You rolled your eyes, struggling to keep your balance on his lap. Straddling him on the driver seat of his car really wasn’t how you thought your night out would end, but it wasn’t all that surprising either. “I fucking hate you sometimes,” you spat.

Jungkook smirked, taking one of his large hands to the back of your head. “Only sometimes? I should try harder, then.”

You were left without a chance to respond because, within a second, he was pressing his lips against yours in a deep, sensual kiss. Jungkook always made out with you like he was about to lose you, like he was drowning and you were his last, desperate gush of air. Jungkook had been the only one who had ever kissed you like that, so messy, but yet so passionate; every curl of his tongue against yours making you melt in his embrace. You, of course, would never tell him how much you liked it, your pride would never allow you to do so.

His palm was firm and hot against your cheek, tilting your head slightly to the side so he could deepen the kiss. His other hand was tenderly placed on your hips, guiding them as you continued to grind against his clothed erection. The air inside his car was so heavy that you felt as if you couldn’t even breathe, only small whimpers echoing between your mouths at the gentle caresses of your clit against the fabric of his pants.

But, as much as Jungkook was having fun, that grinding session was starting to annoy him a bit. He had been waiting to have you all night — going through the motions of boring bar conversations and brushing off the shameless flirting of other girls — and he wasn’t going to spend his sweet time just dry humping you like you two were horny teenagers.

So, he took his shot as you raised your hips from his. Before you could move your body down once again, one of his hands traveled beneath the hem of your skirt, his nails pressing down on the skin of your thighs as he made his way towards your pussy. Jungkook had been daydreaming about your cunt wrapping around his cock for far too long then, and he needed to remind himself of how good that felt.

“Fuck, babygirl, look at you… You’re soaked and I didn’t even touch you yet.” Jungkook smirked wickedly, his fingers faintly tracing its way up and down your clothed folds. You shivered at the contact, biting on your lip to avoid moaning out — he, of course, noticed that. He had quite the natural talent when it came to seeing what made you tick. “Why are you holding back, baby? Afraid that someone will hear you?”

Your only response was a shaky breath from your nose, the words far too complicated to leave your mouth. Only Jungkook, in all of his great self, was able to make you such a mess so quickly, and you hated your body for being so reactive under his touches. It was the expectation, you noticed, the anticipation of knowing how well he fucked you, of knowing he was only taking his time before ruining you.

Without hesitation, he pulled your panties to the side and placed two of his fingers between your pussy lips, barely brushing your entrance. Jungkook covered his digits with your wetness and moved them toward your clit, pressing them delicately on your sensitive nub. “I asked you a question, baby.”

A bit overwhelmed, you breathed out, trying to keep yourself composed. It was almost impossible when it came to him. “Yeah, I don’t want people to know,” you admitted.

He knew that, of course. It was a common worry amongst the two of you — especially when Jungkook had such a thing when it came to risky places to have sex in. Fucking you in his car, right outside the bar where you two had accidentally ran into each other, was far from being one of the most out-there situations he had created.

“Hm? Know what?” He continued playing his self-indulgent game, pressing down on your clit. Your body jilted at the contact, mouth parting slightly and hands resting on his broad shoulders as he began slowly moving in circles over your sweet spot. “That pretty little ___ isn’t such a good girl, after all?”

“J-Jungkook,” his name was a pathetic moan that died on your tongue, barely a whispered plea as he continued his advances on your clit. You had broken down so easy and so fast, you didn’t even remember you had once promised yourself that you would never come back to his bad boy shenanigans.

But it was so, so hard to keep yourself away from him. You were only human, and Jungkook was this little demon ruining you just a bit more every time.

“Are you worried that they’ll know that, beneath all those good grades, all those nights spent studying in your room, all that fucking charity work...” His fingers pressed harshly against your clit and your back arched, making you almost hit the steering wheel behind you. The thought of accidentally pressing down the horn made your blood run cold, and you forced yourself to lean back against his chest. “That under all that, you’re still a slut for my cock?”

Your eyes fluttered shut, pleasure starting to climb up your spine as his voice guided you towards the past. All the times you snuck out during the night, all the times he fucked you raw after just bickering with you in front of your friends. All the times you told everyone that he was just a pile of trouble, and yet you begged for him to bury himself between your thighs until you were crying out his name. Really, it was difficult to find a bratty clapback when he was fucking you senseless, and Jungkook seemed to like that discovery just as much as you.

And still, sometimes he didn’t like when you didn’t answer him.

“You’re so shy all of a sudden…” he trailed off, taking one of his hands to pull up your crop top. He didn’t take it off, especially when he knew you’d freak out being topless in a public parking lot, he just needed to have better access to your bra. “You aren’t this quiet when you’re around other people, though. Always mocking me, being so mean…”

“Don’t play the victim, you do the same to me,” you found the strength to respond, making Jungkook stop his motions on your clit right away. You sighed in frustration, your shoulders falling as you watched him lick his lips. “Why did you stop?”

“I’m waiting,” he said.

“For what?”

“For an answer, baby.” He smirked. “You’re so mean. You always leave me hanging.”

“That’s not true,” you said, taking your hands to his nape. There, you played with the strands of his hair, making him groan after a harsh pull. “What’s the question?”

Jungkook hummed, taking his free hand to your bra and cupping one of your breasts — his other one was still paused, hovering over your clit like an unspoken promise. “Do people know?” He repeated, unclamping your bra with one swift motion and pushing it up along with your top. “Do they know how much of a dirty girl you are?”

You swallowed hard and pushed your body against his fingers, trying to find some more friction. “I’m not,” you said, but could not believe your own words. “It’s just—“

The lie vanished the second that his lips found your nipple, his velvety tongue coming out to circle around it before he gave you a harsh suck. You pressed yourself closer to his mouth at the contact, and you could no longer hide the needy moan that escaped you — which seemed to satisfy Jungkook.

“You’re not?” He spoke as he pulled away from your breast. Jungkook’s fingers slithered away from your clit and dove inside your pussy without further warning, making you cry out his name. No matter how many times you touched yourself, your fingers could never compare to his larger ones, making you stretch out so sweetly around them. “So why are you soaking my fingers like this? That’s so filthy, baby...”

You clenched your teeth. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“And you’re so wet,” this time, however, the mockery in his voice had faded a bit, giving space to a newfound wave of lust. As much as Jungkook loved to tease you, he was quite fast to break too — and the lewd sounds of your pussy were making him lose his mind. “Are you remembering all the times I fucked you before? All the times I pounded this tight pussy until you were crying? Begging for my cock?”

God, you could feel as the heat started to spread down your body, guided by his words alone. When you spoke again, your voice wasn’t as firm as you expected. “J-Jungkook, that’s not…”

“Not what, baby?” He interrupted, tilting his head to the side. You hated how clothed he was, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to ride him like that — in that stupid leather jacket of his. “You didn’t like it?”

“I- I did.” It was getting hard to think when his thick fingers were pumping in and out of you so well. “I loved it.”

Those words left your throat before you could stop yourself, and your heart almost sank when you realized you had actually praised Jungkook, local douchebag, for something. You knew that he wouldn’t let that go anytime soon. “Loved being fucked like a good slut, right?” He asked, moving his fingers faster. You moaned especially loud when he started pushing them apart, scissoring you.

“Yes,” you gasped, utterly defeated at that point.

“Hmmm… so let me ask you again, and I expect a direct answer this time,” Jungkook said, leaning his head against the crook of your neck. His voice was a cloud of heat against your skin, vibrating up and down your body. “Do people know that you’re a slut for my cock?”

“No,” you finally responded, fingers digging on his hair. Your pleasure was increasing so fast that you knew it was just a matter of time before you were cumming around his fingers, like you had done so many times before. “Only you know, Jungkook.”

That seemed to really satisfy him, because it was his turn to grunt against your flesh. The sound of his voice, so hoarse and guttural, made you clench around his fingers. “You’re getting so tight, baby.” He breathed out, unable to hide the desire that coated his words. Jungkook really needed to feel that delicious pussy of yours around his cock before he went insane. “Close?”

This time, your answer didn’t take long to come out. “Yes.”

“I have another question for you,” he started, and you would've rolled your eyes at him if you weren’t so awfully close to your high. “Do you wanna come on my cock or my fingers?”

“Both, please,” you moaned out and rolled your hips against his hand, dignity long forgotten. You wondered what your friends would say if they knew you were pleading for Jungkook, of all people, to make you cum.

“Not both, you have to pick one.” Jungkook stopped his movements for the second time that night, and you couldn’t help cursing out at the absence of motion. You clenched around his fingers, making a sly smirk spread across his features. “I’m feeling especially greedy tonight.”

“Fuck you,” you said, taking a moment to organize your thoughts. As much as you really, really needed to cum, the idea of not having Jungkook’s dick inside you was much worse than waiting just a few more minutes to have it. “Your cock.”

He smiled and, for a moment, he almost looked innocent. Almost. “I thought so,” Jungkook teased, giving you one final pump of his fingers and watching as you bit your lip at the abrupt feeling. “I know you love it.”

You scoffed. “You have such an attitude.”

“Maybe,” Jungkook said as he removed his fingers from your pussy, watching how they shimmered, coated by your wetness. He looked up at you and took his hand towards your mouth. “Let me see you taste it,” he told you, tapping on your bottom lip. Obedient, you opened your mouth for him, allowing for his digits to slither inside. With a whimper, you sucked him like you would his cock, curling your tongue around him in a way that left Jungkook cursing out. “So fucking hot.”

His eyes were focused on your mouth as he pulled his fingers away from it, swallowing dry at the “pop” sound it made when it left your lips. “Now,” he almost groaned, “let me taste it.”

Jungkook crashed his mouth on yours, making you moan against his kiss once again. His tongue hungrily danced with yours, searching for your taste as his hands grabbed your ass, pressing you down against his aching member. You never wanted something as much as you wanted to feel him inside you right then, and Jungkook also didn’t want to wait any longer.

He smirked against your mouth when he heard the sound of his zipper opening, your hands working fast to pull his pants down. “I told you that you love my cock.”

“God,” you complained, pulling at the hem of his pants. Jungkook raised his hips from the seat so you could slide them down, bringing his underwear along with it. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Only when you let me eat you out.” His cock had sprung free, resting against his abdomen as your hands moved to grab it. Again, another compliment that you would never give him, but Jungkook had one of the prettiest (and biggest) dicks you had ever seen; already so enlarged and red-tipped, leaking with pre-cum. Just looking at it made you horny, and it wasn’t long before you were taking it in your hand, giving it a few pumps before brushing your thumb over his crown, spreading his wetness all over it. “Fuck, that feels good.”

The pleasure in his voice almost blinded you for a moment, making you forget what had been your intention in the first place. However, as you felt yourself clenching around nothing, you came back to your senses.

“I wanna feel your warm little cunt around me, baby,” Jungkook breathed out, watching as your hand continued to pump him.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling especially nice tonight,” you told him, placing your thighs closer to his center. With a grunt of expectation, Jungkook’s eyes followed as you raised your skirt with one hand and guided his cock towards your heat with the other one. “Ready to make your schoolgirl fantasy come to life?”

He opened his lips to respond, but his voice was lost the second that you pressed his tip against your opening, coating his cock with your warmness. “Fuck, baby,” he moaned, hands grabbing your ass as you sank down on him.

“Oh, God,” you whined as you bottomed out, your walls pulsating around him as you got used to his size. No matter how many times he fucked you, you couldn’t get used to his large size and the amazing way he filled you up like no one else could. “Jungkook, you’re so big.”

That was another comment that, unfortunately, you could not hold back. Because you hated yourself, that was why. “You can take it, baby,” he said, pressing down on your ass. “Be a good girl and take everything.”

With his added force, you sank down until you had all of him inside you, practically sitting against his thighs by the time you were done. Taken away by the delicious feeling of his thick cock inside you, you started slowly setting a pace, moving up just so you could crash back down; the sound of skin on skin filling the still, muffled atmosphere of his car.

“Shiiiiit, ____, you’re so tight.” He breathed out heavy, watching the way your bodies connected; the way his dick was coated by your wetness. “I can’t get used to it, it’s the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

Now it was your time to be carried away by his compliments. It was stupid, but having Jungkook praise you (especially after he spent most of his days making fun of you) had you feeling over the moon. Before you could hold yourself back, you were already setting up a rhythm, bouncing up and down on him in a way that got him seeing stars; moaning in delight every time you rolled your hips on him.

“Fuck, yeah, ride this cock,” Jungkook groaned, thowing his head back against the seat. His hair was a mess, falling over his eyes and gluing against his sweaty forehead; and yet he looked like sin incarnated as you fucked yourself onto him. Those saliva-coated lips, those furrowed eyebrows, and the deep, hungry gaze that he sent you way every time you sunk down on him would be the death of you.

Jungkook breathed out as you started to pick up your pace, your hands pressing down on his shoulders as your ass bounced against his thighs. “Such a good slut,” he praised breathlessly, taking one of his hands to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes. “Such a filthy little thing.”

Pride forgotten, you knew what he wanted to hear. “O-only for you,” your words were a confusing mess of syllables, mind drunk on the feeling of his big cock pumping in and out of you. Only Jungkook could fill you up like that, only he could make you such a mess so quickly.

“Oh, I know, baby.” His palm came down heavy against the globe of your ass, stinging your skin and making you cry out in an amazing mixture of pain and desire. You whimpered at the feeling that his slap left behind, your eyes dazed and unfocused as you looked down at the boy. “This pussy is all mine.”

You called out his name as he started thrusting up, the force of his movements increasing your pleasure immensely. You loved when Jungkook started to get rough with you, when he started to use you like you were just a doll for him to seek his own high.

He pulled on your hair, making your head tilt backwards and presenting him with a glorious view of your neck. Jungkook groaned against your flesh, his lips and tongue attacking your skin in a way that you knew would leave marks the following day — just the way he liked it. “I want to fuck you forever,” he moaned, “Wanna make this pussy so messy with my cum. Mark it as my own.”

“It’s yours, Jungkook,” you told him, lost in the buildup of your pleasure. “It’s all yours.”

He groaned, and the force of his hips snapping against yours only increased. Weak, you allowed your body to tumble against his strong chest, letting him use you the way he wanted it.

“Such a tight and wet pussy for me,” he moaned out through clenched teeth. Jungkook looked almost animalistic then, only wanting to fuck you until his stamina ran out. “Say my name, baby.”

“J-Jungkook,” you gasped.

“Louder,” he hissed, buckling his hips higher. The feeling of his cock thrusting upwards and reaching even deeper inside you got you seeing stars, eyes rolling back and mouth falling open. “I want everyone to hear it. Hear how good I make you feel, hear that this pussy is all mine.”

Any other time, you would refuse to do something so absurd — but, at that moment, your mind was floating far away from that car, and all that you wanted was to be a good girl for him. “Jungkook!” you called his name louder, moaning out at you felt his cock throbbing inside you.

“Again,” he rasped out, his jaw clenching.

“Jungkook, fuck!” You almost yelled out, the world turning into nothing as you continued to fuck yourself on his cock. Moments like those were wonderful: all your problems went away, and you could only focus on the way he made you feel so deliciously full.

“Ah, that’s it, shit,” he cursed out, member throbbing inside your pussy, “I’m gonna fucking cum.”

You cried out at the thought, wanting nothing more than to see him cuming because of you. “C-Cum inside me, please.”

“Yeah, baby,” he said, his voice lost in pleasure. You could feel his desperation from the way his hips crashed against yours with much more force, hitting deep inside you. “Take everything.”

His mind went blank when you clenched around his cock, wiping everything away from him but the delicious feeling of your walls sinking down on him. Jungkook looked like he was in a haze, his eyes unfocused and teeth sinking on his lip, barely watching the way he disappeared inside you. He only needed a bit more to be pushed over the edge.

“Please, fill me up, Jungkook,” you begged. His eyes darted towards yours, watching your face. He could see that you had tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, a faint heat in your cheeks. God, he had completely ruined you. “Please, I need your cum.”

And that was it. His orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, a deep groan leaving his throat as he spilled himself inside you, hearing the lewd sounds of your wetness as he continued to thrust up against your pussy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, head falling against the seat once more. Jungkook’s eyes closed as he felt the last drops of his cum being milked by you, his mind a jumble of broken words and disconnected ideas. “Oh, fuck, baby, fuck. Take it, baby, fuck...”

Of course you did as he asked, and you took every drop of his cum until it was starting to spill out of you. You couldn’t even look down, but you were sure that you were a complete mess between your legs. “J-Jungkook, I’m so close,” you cried out, drunk on the feeling of his thrusts.

“God, that’s it.” He pressed down on your hips, overwhelmed with the feeling of your walls clenching around his sensitive member. Jungkook loved it, though, loved seeing you cum around his cock like it was all that you ever wanted to do; loved watching your face as you looked at him with so much desperation that he almost grunted out. You really were a precious thing. “Make a mess on my fat cock, come on, baby. Let me see you cum for me.”

His request was like magic to you, and you came right after, calling his name amidst breathy moans and high-pitched whimpers. Jungkook kept whispering in your ear as you rode your high, praising how good you were for him, how good you felt around him, until you crashed down against his chest, absolutely spent.

Still, you had experienced enough sexual adventures with Jungkook to know that he still wanted two more things before he called it a night. He had his particular tastes.

“Let me see it.” Jungkook told you about a minute later, and you knew exactly what he wanted you to do. With your thighs still trembling a little, you leaned back against the steering wheel and pushed your body upwards, letting his dick slip out of you. Jungkook hummed in delight as you pulled up your skirt and he watched his cum dripping down your thighs, painting your folds in a delicate shade of white. He always loved to admire his work. “So fucking pretty… and all mine.”

You had to bite down your lip not to whimper at the touch of his fingertips against your pussy, catching a bit of his cum on them. He took it to his mouth, humming around his digits as he tasted himself. “You always make such a mess,” you complained.

“Shut up, I always clean it.” Jungkook sighed, looking at you almost tenderly. “You know what I’m gonna ask.”

Yes, you did.

You sighed. “Fine.”

Jungkook hummed happily as you propped yourself over his cock once again, now half-hard, and placed it back inside you, sinking down until you were sitting on his lap. “Good girl.” He sighed in bliss, his hand caressing your hair as you rested your head against his broad chest. You didn’t understand why Jungkook loved staying inside you after sex, but you couldn’t deny that you weren’t bothered by it. You just liked to pretend as if you were. “Feels so nice.”

You pressed yourself against his chest. “I hate you.”

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your lower back. “No, you don’t.”

And you hated that he was right.

BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

#jungkook #smut #bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #x reader #reader insert #x you #jungkook x you #bts x you #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #bangtan boys #pwp #jungkook pwp #bts au #jungkook au #drabble #smut drabble

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gotnofucks · 3 years

Text

The Unreformed Rake

Pairing: soft!dark Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: Ransom Drysdale is a notorious rake, but he seems to have taken a shine to you. When he plans to make you his, nothing would stand in his way. No is not a word he understands.

Words: 3k

Warnings: Slightly dubcon touching, fingering, semi-public touching, forced marriage hinted, 18 + Only

A/N: This is my submission to Siri’s 5k Softdark challenge. Congratulations love @stargazingfangirl18 , you do us hoes so proud and keep our punanis so happy! I chose the prompt “Come on, just a little taste”. It’s highlighted in the text.

If your corset was a millimeter more tighter, you’d be dead. The mammas cared more about getting their daughters married off than about them making it alive through the ball. You were glad that as a second daughter you didn’t have too many eyes on you. All you had to do was let three to four men twirl you around the dancefloor to appease your mother, and then you could sit back and enjoy watching your older sister Anika try to catch a husband.

Mostly, the balls weren’t too bad. You got to meet with your friends and eat some delicious food without the constant supervision of your mother, sometimes you’d even find a decent dance partner who wouldn’t step on your toes or whose hands wouldn’t wander south of your back. You could have made it through the evening unscathed had one handsome rake not made an appearance.

The moment Lord Huge Ransom Drysdale stepped into the hall, all eyes were on him. And his were on you. He made a spectacular vision, donning the bright colours that most gentlemen stayed away from, and yet he looked more masculine than any of them. The eyes of every unwed lady followed his movements, their mothers urging them to approach him despite his reputation.

Everyone knew Huge Ransom Drysdale was a notorious rake; his stories were told at tea parties in hushed tones and often accompanied by giggles. He was proficient in the art of leaving a trail of broken hearts and stuttering men, but more than that, he was a master at getting under your skin. His eyes hadn’t left you for a moment, fixating on you and your current dance partner who was glued to your side like lichens to rock.

“You dance most marvelously Miss Y/N, would you do me the honour of the next one too?” He asked, looking smitten at you.

“Now now Allen, you wouldn’t hog Miss Y/N’s attention all for yourself, would you?” Lord Drysdale’s mocking voice carried over to you, the man walking languidly until he stood before you. “There are a number of other ladies in want of a partner, if you’d be kind enough to relent Miss Y/N’s hand to me.”

Allen bowed to him, recognizing the superior title and the man who held it. Placing a small kiss on the back of your hand, he beat a hasty retreat from you side like the coward you knew him to be. Lord Drysdale chuckled, raising a brow at you before offering you his arm. You had half a mind to turn your nose at him and storm away, but your mother would have conniptions if she learnt you said no to a Lord.

“You have a lot of nerve and no tact Your Lordship” You said in a whisper, allowing him to grip your hand and bring you closer. The music began and he spun you out gracefully before bringing you back into his body, much closer than was socially acceptable. His fingers were firm around yours, the hand on your waist tight, singeing the flesh underneath with his touch.

“You know I am a tactless bastard, that shouldn’t be news to you.” He said with a charming smile that could fool anybody but you. He put a façade better than any theater artist you knew. He led you around the other dancing bodies dexterously, not looking away from your face. After a moment, he abruptly asked, “Who were those three morons you danced with earlier? Didn’t I sent word that you must keep your dance card empty but for me?”

An appalled gasp escaped you and it was with restraint you kept yourself from bolting away from him. “Are you having me watched?”, You hissed in anger, wrinkling your forehead. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Of course I have people keeping an eye on you. Can’t let anything happen to my future wife.”

Because you couldn’t leave, you did the next best thing. You stepped on his toe with all your might, digging your hell into his feet until he groaned in pain. He retaliated by moving his hand from your waist to your backside, giving a firm squeeze to your ass that had you choking on a scandalized scream.

“Hugh!” You chided through gritted teeth, looking around quickly to see if someone had noticed. Amidst the sea of dancers, nobody focused on you alone, but it would be enough to ruin a lady’s reputation.

“You know that’s not what you call me.”

His blue eyes turned darker, more challenging and predatory as he leaned closer until his chest brushed against you. You struggled, trying to put distance between you as discreetly as possible but he wouldn’t give.

“Let go!” You said, digging your nails into his shoulder to no avail. The thick padding of his clothes prevented any harm.

“Say my name.”

It was an order, one that if not met would hold consequences. People thought they knew the philandering Lord Drysdale, but they had little inkling to the danger that resided just beneath the surface. You knew. Your gaze dropped away from his, head a little bowed in defeat.

“Ransom.” You whispered, and he let out a shuddering breath as if his name on your lips had taken away more from himself than from you. He wouldn’t let you address him as anything else, not you who he claimed would be wearing his ring soon.

The dance slowed to a stop, people clapping, and you pushed away from him, halfheartedly joining in the applause. Ransom stood too close, his hand on your waist still fast and you slapped it away in irritation.

“Look, just stay away from me. I don’t want mamma to see us together.” You said, weaving through the throngs of people and trying to escape him. He followed, keeping at your heels with no problem, playfully pulling at your sleeve.

“Stay away?” He scoffed, almost as if in wonder of your audacity to even demand that. “You’re gonna be Lady Drysdale soon, you need to get used to my presence. I will always be close. Very close.”

You turned on him, raising a finger and wagging it in his face. Heat was settling over your face and neck, seeping beneath your neckline and into your chest that was heaving. Ransom’s eyes trained on the rise and fall of your breast, a wolfish grin on his face as he licked his lips in appreciation and anticipation.

“I am not going to marry you Ransom!” You yelled in a whisper, amazed at his arrogance. “You keep away from me.”

In a second his fingers encircled your wrist, pulling you away from the floor into the shadowy corners as you protested. Sweeping aside the curtains, he pushed you into an alcove, pressing you in deeper with his body as the curtains fell again to shield you from curious eyes.

“We’ll have to do something about that mouth of yours.” He hissed cruelly, caging you between his massive arms. “You can’t go around speaking to me like this.”

His face neared yours, eyes dark and dangerous as they glared into you, his mouth opening slowly. You knew what was going to happen and you turned your face at the last second, his lips finding your cheek instead. Warm breath fanned your already heated skin, a flutter of butterflies setting your nerves astray.

“Stop! This isn’t proper.” You said, squirming as Ransom refused to back away. He chuckled in derision, forcefully turning your face to his. You hated how he still looked so beautiful, despite the sneer and arrogance.

“Wouldn’t be the first time we did it. Or did you forget about those stolen moments after the lakeside picnics? What about those walks in the park where I’d press you into a bark of tree and ravish this sinful mouth? We’re long past proper my darling, and the only reason your virtue is intact is because I am affording you the dignity to keep it until our wedding night.”

Your gaze lowered in mortification, those shameful moments coming back to you as flashes behind your eyelids. He had been far too powerful, too intense to refuse. In your weakness, you’d allowed him liberties that made guilt settle like weight on your chest every time your mother bragged about your modesty to other mammas.

“That was my mistake, Ransom. I’m supposed to marry a man of impeccable standing, someone who holds everyone’s good opinion. After Anika gets herself a man, it’ll be me, and my mother would never marry me off to a rake like you.”

His chest expanded in indignation under your hands, and he held you steady as he ground himself against you. Anger, jealousy, and sheer disbelief at your words was evident in his glare, and you shivered in fear as his lips skimmed over your jaw.

“You will marry me, mamma or no mamma. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to make you mine.” He promised, eyes glinting in warning. “What’s that saying? A reformed rake makes the best husband, ain’t it?”

“You’re not reformed.” You countered, captive in his hold. A part of you that you refused to acknowledge didn’t want to leave at all.

“That’s true.” Ransom said, smirking. “I am a rake, its time I play to my reputation.”

He kissed you hard, his tongue pushing past your lips without preamble. You couldn’t help moaning into his mouth, your fingers clutching his collar for dear life, knees threatening to collapse as he kissed you like a man starved. You knew he had a talented tongue by his charming words, but there was more to it than merely speaking. He discovered you, explored you like an untouched cave and brought you back to life.

Nobody could make you feel like he did. You had no patience for conceited, blustering men, but Ransom was more than that. He was a force that overpowered your life like winds did to fallen leaves. He carried you with himself, unrelenting, persistent. He was passionate and hungry, he was obsessed. After the first time he had kissed you in the park, he promised he wouldn’t kiss anyone again. He promised he’d make you his, and that if any man tried to claim what belonged to him, it would end in a duel.

In his kiss, you felt his possessiveness. You felt his raw power and lust that had led you to sin on more than one occasion. Saying no to him was difficult, mainly because you were most yourself when with him. He gave you wings unknowingly. He gave you the freedom to rebel unknowingly. To him, it was your claiming. But hadn’t you claimed him too in one kiss? Hadn’t you transformed the rake into a marriageable sort in one kiss?

“Ransom, we can’t.” You breathed against his lips, both your mouths swollen and glistening.

“Yes we can. We will.”

His hand ventured south of your neck, dipping into your neckline and brushing against the plump swell of your breast. You sputtered, not knowing if you were urging him or objecting. He pressed you hard into the wall, trailing his lips from your neck to your chest, sucking and nibbling with utmost patience and care. You whimpered at his assault, soft mewls spilling from your mouth and you rested your head back, unable to control the heat that simmered in your core.

“There is no power in the world that can stop me from making you my wife.” He said, looking right into your eyes as he sharply pulled and tore a rip into your bodice. You screeched, thumping your fists against his chest before he gathered them in one arm and held them above your head. “This is just a preview of what will happen between us when you take my ring and name.”

Pushing away the limp fabric from your breast, his mouth enveloped your nipple in one fell swoop. You cried out in pleasure, his warmth spreading into your own body and you feared you’d burn. A fire was simmering between your legs, wet and wanting, chanting his name. His teeth gently grazed your nipple, causing you to whimper, a sound he captured in his mouth.

“Look at me.” He ordered, and you opened your eyes without having realized they were closed. The blue in his had never been darker, almost black like the night sky that swallowed down everything in its path.

“Please don’t.” You begged. “I have sisters whose reputation are tied with mine. You’ll ruin us all.”

Ransom smiled, and you gulped because he looked almost tender. As his fingers trailed down your front to gather the layers of skirt above your knees, he bumped his nose in yours. “Never. I am a Thrombey-Drysdale. I’ll take you, and I’ll save your family. Everything I own is yours.”

The look in his eyes was such that you didn’t protest as he traced your thighs, approaching the apex. He didn’t look away as he reached your moist core, nor when he found your sensitive nub and ran circles around it with his fingers. You moaned, biting your lip to stifle your voice as his breathing picked up. Your scent filled the small niche you were in, his chest digging into yours, hand buried between your legs.

A strangled cry did escape when you felt him at your weeping entrance, threatening to breach the untouched walls of your virtue. You shook your head, asking him not to cross the boundary that will change everything between you.

“Come on, just a little taste.” He urged, pressing inside with one finger. He delved in slowly, his intrusion felt against the spongy walls of your sex and you trembled. You were panting you realized, hips gyrating almost subconsciously to mirror his movements.

“Ransom” You moaned, pushing forward. You had to do something, anything. You felt about ready to combust.

“I know. I know. Look at me and remember the pleasure I can give you. Remember the love I will shower on you.”

Another finger joined the first, stretching you until it burnt. You held onto his arms, breath coming in sharp intervals as he moved in and out, the obscene sounds of your essence mixing in with your laboured breathing.

“Do you feel the fire my darling?” Ransom asked, and you nodded. He rested his forehead on yours, forcing you to meet his eyes as he sped up, the heel of his hand digging into your nub. “Look into my eyes and let go. Come, now.”

Your back arched and your pressed forward into his body, quacking in pleasure as sensations that had no name wrecked your whole body. Your teeth sank into his neck to hold in your scream, whole body vibrating and undulating in ecstasy. You remained like this until you caught your breath, sweat gathering above your lips and brow. He looked ravenously at you. He looked in awe too.

Raising his hand, he showed you his fingers soaked in your wetness and slowly he brought them to his mouth and sucked. You gulped, suddenly feeling empty as Ransom closed his eyes in the relish of your taste. When he finally looked at you again, you knew you were lost. The wolf had had his taste of blood. There was no escaping.

He kissed you slow and soft, sharing your taste with you and pulling you closer into him. It didn’t seem like he would part. For all you knew, the world had burnt away leaving only this niche in the wall intact, two people who were just learning to explore each other the only ones alive.

“Do you know, or should I say?” He asked, and you sucked in a breath. Who would have thought this day would come?

“Say it.” You answered. You knew, oh yes. But you needed to hear. You needed to watch those beautiful lips curve around words that bound you to him in something far more potent than marriage.

“I love you.” He said, sincerely, truly and with no hesitation. He loved you. Lord Hugh Ransom Drysdale loved you. Your eyes glistened with unshed tears and you stood on your toes to brush a kiss against his lips.

“I love you, Your Lordship.”

His arms came around you so strong that they felt like chains. You stayed in his embrace, disheveled and disoriented. You never expected your evening would have ended like this.

“Remember my love, then. And forgive me.” Ransom said. Before you could ask him what he meant, he threw apart the curtains that contained your sin and bared you to the world. The first person gasped aloud, and then ten more. You stood paralyzed, holding a hand against your chest to conceal the peeking flesh behind.

Ransom stood before you, nonchalant. Whispers flew around, taking the form of a vicious wind that swept across the ballroom until your mother was running towards you, scandalized. She took one look at you and staggered back, falling behind on the people who rushed forward to help.

“You – no. It couldn’t be.” She sobbed, holding a hand to her heart as if asking it to stay inside. You couldn’t say anything, shame written on every part of you. Ransom cleared his throat before looking at you softly, uncaring of others who gossiped when his lips pressed on your forehead.

“I plan to do right by Miss Y/N.” He announced, removing his coat and draping it around you. Pulling you out from the alcove, he put an arm around you and tugged you at his side. He glanced at you mother who was on the verge of fainting, a small tilt to his lips. “Madam, with your blessings, I would like to wed your daughter and make her an honest woman.”

You hid your face into his chest, not bothering to see your mother’s response. He had compromised you. He had ruined you. Ransom Drysdale didn’t take a no, and he fought hard for what he wanted.

“I hate you.” You whispered, heartbroken. Had he waited, you’d have said yes yourself. Ransom read the question in your gaze and stroked the curve of your cheek.

“I have done my waiting. No more of it. You’re mine now.”

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #soft!dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark!ransom x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #soft!dark ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale

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cerebrumrott · 3 years

Text

Obey Me! Shall we Date?

Brothers and Newly Dateables x MC

Synopsis: Where their pact marks would be and how they would appear...

Lucifer

His mark would appear on your throat. Below the chin and Above the adams apple is where the sigil lies but the patterns and runes that circle it seem to trickle down your throat to your collar bones. Some even tracing up along the under side of your jaw.

You would know the mark appeared here because its his favorite part of you. He would often hide his face into your neck after a stressful day kissing along your jaw, and breathing in your scent.

It's also where his hand would most often lay, whether he be mindlessly tracing patterns into your skin, tipping your face up to his for a kiss, or holding you in place for him.

The mark is gorgeous and intricate. In direct light it appears to be a plain black though every so often it will catch the light just so to reveal the color beneath. A dazzling and heavenly blue.

When your pact mark appears he can barely keep his hands to himself. Most often when passing one another is RAD he will stop you just to take a moment to admire the mark before ushering you on your way smirking as he warns you not to be late.

Mammon

His mark will appear on the back of the neck where the skull meets the spine. Its a small and tight circle almost barely noticeable with it being faded into your hair line.

He is furious at first demanding to know why his mark is so small compared to the others and why its in such a hard to see place. He proceeds to pout to himself muttering about why it couldnt be somewhere obvious like your eyes or better yet in the middle of your forehead!

Once that was out of his system he began to truly appreciate the pact mark. He was the closest to your mind because he knew what you were really thinking sometimes without you even needing to say it. He often finds his hand coming to subconsciously rest on the back of your neck petting and massaging the mark as it also soothed him. Sometimes when he is thinking too hard he will start aggressively petting your head. It was funny the first time but the look your teacher gave you when Mammon accidentally started petting you in the middle of class was less so.

Whenever you wear hoodies or scarves he doesn't hesitate to walk up behind you and pull your hood down saying its disrespectful to cover up his pact mark and that you should be displaying it to the world. One time you shaved out a little triangle at the base of your hair line to fully expose the mark and with your hair tied up high. Mammon was just beaming with pride and joy following behind you like a love sick puppy just to stare at his mark.

Leviathan

When you made a pact with Levi you actually couldnt find it for weeks. You had cheeked every inch of your skin for a mark big or small but couldn't find anything.

That was until one day while hanging out with Levi you burnt the roof of your mouth so bad you thought the skin was peeling off. Levi worried used the flashlight on his phone to look in your mouth and let out of yelp of surprise at what he found. You also panicked thinking your mouth was now beyond saving from an all too hot bite of noodles.

No instead he had found where his pact mark lied. On the roof of your mouth was a relatively large and well detailed sigil and its surrounding runes. Interwoven between these runes were two serpents. The heads of each snake ending by your front canines the tails vanishing where your wisdom teeth should be.

It took you both weeks just to find the mark and even more so discussing why it would ever appear in such an odd place. It was one night during a TSL binge that it hit you. Levi hates touching but he loves talking with you. So of course his mark would have something to do with your mouth and since a mark can't be broken it couldnt go on your lips or near them.

At this Levi brings up the point of why not the tongue then? To that you counter its because he is a shut in and never sees the light of day. You had meant it as a joke but the dawning look on his face made you realize that is exactly why it was on the roof of your mouth.

When he kisses you he likes to drag his tongue over the mark the sensation sending sparks through his body.

Satan

His mark would appear on your outer thigh. This is where his hand would always fall when you both read together in the afternoons, or when you would sit at the table beside each other.

The mark itself is made up of sharp and bold lines that take up a majority of your leg reaching down to your knee and all the way up to your hip. The center of the mark is a deep forest green that fades away into a black. Similar to Lucifer's it too has a duo chrome effect where in certain lighting a vivid green can be seen glittering through the patterns and runes of the mark.

Satan will often find himself staring at you legs throughout the day envisioning the mark beneath connecting the two of you together. Many days he doesn't even attempt to hide his blatant stares as he longs to run his hands over the mark unhindered by cloth. Perhaps later when the two of you are back at home...

Asmodeus

His mark lies above your sternum and your heart. Asmodeus often jokes that it means you are hopelessly in love with him but the truth is that he is the one hopelessly in love. The many nights before you had made your pact where he would just dream of you. His love was not that of lust but of true and honest emotion the likes he had never felt before.

His mark is small, tightly packed in the space on the chest with the most minuscule and delicate details. The shapes and runes take on an appearance akin to that of a rose bush. Beautiful blossoms encased in a myriad of thorns protecting and guarding what lies beneath.

The thorns and vines interlaced with Asmodeus' pact mark when looked at from afar takes the shape of a heart matching the marks on his own skin.

Every time he sees the petals of his mark peeking out from a shirt of yours he can't help the way his heart fills and nearly weeps in happiness. While others may try to claim he is just oogling at your chest you both know its much more than that. Its much deeper than any of that.

Beelzebub

His pact mark is on your dominant hand. He had laughed at the time when it appeared saying it was because he couldn't think of anywhere else to place it but you both knew that demons don't choose where a pact forms. It appears in a place of significance to the both of them.

It took a week before you made the connections as to why it was your dominant hand that it appeared on. Everytime you took a drink or ate you would catch a glimpse of Beels large and chunky pact mark curling over the back of your hand and over your knuckles almost trickling down your fingers. You couldn't help but laugh almost choking on your food at the time as everyone at the table looked to you like you were mad.

Beel was all smiles as you told him about your discovery his cheeks flustered red as he too realized that was indeed a great reason as to why it might appear there. In all honesty he had been truly as clueless as you as to why it was your hand but now. Now it made perfect sense and he loved it so so much.

Beel loves his pact mark with you so much he will often just take your hand in his and press a soft kiss to your knuckles, or when he is feeling mischievous he will take your hand and drag a long lick up your arm before commenting on how delicious you are.

Belphegor

Belphegors mark forms on your non-dominant hand parallel to his twins. Though rather than drift down over the knuckles it instead crawls up the arm towards the elbow. Thin and curling lines make out the shapes of clouds that encircle the runes and sigil of his pact.

You both knew why his mark appeared here and it wasn't simply to mirror his twin much to Belphie's embarrassment. He always held your hand when he napped. It got to the point he couldnt sleep if you weren't holding his hand or petting his hair.

With your mark now on full display he doesn't even attempt to hide his need to hold your hand just walking up to you and taking it into his own even when not looking for a quick nap.

Long after you have gone to bed at night he will crack an eye open making sure you really are out for the night before carefully sitting up to take your hand into his and trace over the patterns there. You most likely would never notice but when his mark hit the moonlight just so. Brilliant white speckles like stars could be seen mixed among the markings.

Interlacing your fingers together Belphegor brings your knuckles to his lips falling asleep with your hand cradled to his face hoping to wake up still holding you.

Bonus:

Diavolo

His mark is the biggest out of all the demons. Shocker. The sigil and runes sit between your shoulder blades and the massive and intricate detailing the sprout outwards from that trails upwards and over yours shoulders and down your sides like a hug from behind. In the light it has a golden shimmer to it giving it a regal apperance.

If you have a pact with Barbatos it connects to his encircling your entire back and upper legs.

The mark appears where it does because that's where his hand is just drawn to rest on you. When he hugs you it presses there to draw you in closer, When guiding you around the castle he places it there when leading you through a door way and into another, even when just standing beside you his hand drifts to settle there.

When the pact mark appears it becomes his favorite place to kiss. Often walking up behind you and leaning down to press a quick kiss to the space regardless of the clothing in the way before smiling at you happily.

Barbatos

His mark appears on your lower back. The sigil and the runes themselves and small and concentrated into your lower back. Though the curling and spiraling patterns that extend outwards from it cover most of your lower back trailing up your spine. It even extends out and down the back of your thighs only stopping when it reaches the back of your knees.

The mark appears pure black to the naked eye but to those with magical capabilities it is a sparkling mixture of metallic blacks and sparkling blues.

If you have a pact with Diavolo the two pacts seem to blend together creating a dazzling shimmering affect of the gold and the blue/black.

He often takes the time just to appreciate the beauty of your pact mark. Asking in a soft voice before pushing up the back of your shirt to run a gloved hand carefully over the lines that trail along your spine and to your lower back.

When it is just the two of you he will place his hand on your lower back and rub small circles against the place where the mark lies reassuringly.

#obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #so many fucking tags #pact marks

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seriouslysnape · 3 years

Text

Perfect Resolution

Harry Potter x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut. Language.

Word Count: 1,641

“Good. You deserved that after today.”

“Even when you’re being stubborn, you’re still my pretty girl.” Harry huffed out, his voice strained when you slammed back down onto his lap in a particularly rough way, the tip of his cock pounding at your g-spot.

Your brain was mush at this point. Every thought that crossed your mind was occupied by either Harry or your goal to achieve the orgasm that he was helping you towards. Harry looked so good right now. His hair was unruly and ruffled in every direction from where your hands had untidied it from being wrapped in it. You leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his famous scar without ever breaking the rhythm of your hips.

You had been rather difficult today. It hadn’t been your best day, and everything had seemingly gone wrong since the moment you had gotten up that morning. You had been sour with him all day, brushing him off and barking at him for the most innocent intentions. He had been trying to get through to you all day, trying to make you feel better. But even Harry, who was the most patient person you knew, would crack eventually. The last straw was drawn when you had blown up at him for attempting to help you study for your Transfiguration exam that you were totally screwed for.

“I don’t need your fucking help, Harry!” You had basically screamed at him, causing him to recoil completely.

He had been standing next to where you were sitting at your desk, rubbing your back soothingly and pointing out things in your notes when you got stuck on something. He hadn’t expected you to respond so harshly to him just trying to help, and honestly he had enough with your attitude for one day.

Without another word, he had yanked you up from your chair, sitting in it himself and pulling you onto his lap. He murmured something about “fucking the attitude right out of you”; something that he didn’t do very often. He had pushed you over the edge the first time with just his fingers, pumping and curling his fingers until you were writhing around his hand. Now he was repeatedly being buried deep inside of you each time you crashed back down onto him.

Even though he was aggravated with you, he knew that you had just been frustrated all day. He wanted you to feel better, because he could never stay mad at you. Still, he hadn’t quite worked through all the irritation.

“You take my cock so well, don’t you?” He practically groaned out, “Just like you took my fingers just a few minutes ago...you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

You hadn’t said anything in a while, your thoughts too preoccupied to form any kind of coherent response to what he was saying to you. Your eyes were screwed shut, so tightly that you were seeing inky blotches behind your eyelids. Your head was tilted upwards to the ceiling as you focused on the way he was stretching and filling your slick walls so perfectly. He was meeting your bounces with his upward thrusts, hitting every sensitive spot that had melted you into a whimpering puddle.

It wasn’t until his hand gripped your chin to force you to look at him that your eyes opened and you snapped out of your trance.

“Are you not going to answer me?” He asked gruffly when you didn’t give any kind of reply.

Your head fluttered as your dilated pupils met his lust blown ones. You were breathless as you spoke, your chest heaving with each rapid inhale of oxygen that you took.

“Sorry, Harry. What’d you say?” You asked him to repeat, your own voice echoing in your ears.

Instead, Harry shot up from the chair without removing his throbbing cock out of you. Your wobbly legs were pitiful as he brought you to your feet, pressing the front of your hips into the desk and pulling your back against his front.

“Since you can’t get it together, I guess I’m going to have to fuck you into your desk.” He growled, pushing your skirt up and chuckling lowly in your ear at the reminder that his favorite pair of your lace knickers had been discarded long ago.

The wooden material of your desk dug into your skin, but you were too focused on the delicious feeling of Harry fucking in and out of you to even notice. Your palms gripped the edge of the desk, your eyes raking over the countless parchments of Transfiguration notes in front of you. The words were blurred jumbles of letters, and you couldn’t comprehend what any of it said to save your life right now.

Harry was fucking you hard and fast, pulling out almost completely each time before railing back into you. He kept one hand on your waist to keep you from straying away from him, since sometimes you tended to squirm. His other hand cupped one of your breasts, playing with the stimulated nipple. Your orgasm was heating up and pooling in your belly, your desperation becoming more and more clear.

“Harry.” You croaked out, your voice light and airy.

“What, angel?” He acknowledged with a grin, knowing you were beginning to beg.

“Please...” You whined, your knees trembling more with each passing second.

He laughed again in your ear as he slammed in again past your sopping folds, your arousal had drenched his cock and was dripping down your thighs.

“What do you want, baby? You’ve got to tell me if you want something.” He sneered with the knowledge that he had you at his mercy.

You swallowed hard, your brain even foggier than before as you replied without much hesitation.

“I wanna cum.” You admitted, crying out immediately after a particularly perfect thrust from him.

“Do you? Only good girls get to cum,” He pointed out, his voice muffled from his mouth sucking on your neck, “You’ve been bad all day. I don’t know if you deserve it.”

The desire and the need to finish was exploding all through you. This was the best you had felt all day and if you didn’t get your release, you were sure you’d be a mess before the night was over.

“No, no, no. Please, Harry. I didn’t mean to- fuck! I just wanna cum so I can feel better...” You pleaded.

Harry was a real softie at heart, and he rarely could stand the sound of you so needy and broken down. Maybe if you had really pissed him off, he might hold off on letting you cum, but right now he felt too bad to leave you like this.

“Okay, love, okay. Just because you’ve had such a rough day, I’m gonna let you finish,” He said, his words beginning to slur together, “But the next time you get snappy with me, I might not be so nice.” He rumbled.

A moan of satisfaction and bliss bubbled out of your throat as he continued to wonderfully fuck you the way only he knew how to. The band of ecstasy was stretching and stretching in your gut, and it was only a matter of a few more immaculately pounds into you that it would snap. His cock twitched deep inside of you somewhere, signaling that he was about to burst as well.

When he felt you clench around him, he splayed his hand across your chest and pulled you completely back and flush against him as you came on his cock, his own release spilling into you. The sound of his moan as he finished sent waves of thrill through you as he held you close as you fell from your climax. The rushes of electricity and lust fizzled away slowly the further you both trailed from your finishes. The only sounds were your matched heavy breathing and occasional sigh of content.

Harry dragged his now softened cock out of you, his tip leaving last with a wet sounding pop. Your core and legs were shaking violently as he spun you around, holding you up by your arms to keep you from collapsing on him.

“You alright, lovely?” He questioned once he felt stable enough to speak.

“Mmhm,” You mumbled, “I’m perfect.”

“Good. You deserved that after today.” He responded, referring to how a good loving making session was all you needed.

You didn’t quite catch the intention of his words, and your expression changed into a guilty one.

“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry I was so mean today. It wasn’t your fault.” You apologized, kissing just above his right pectoral muscle.

He kept you held up with one arm, using his free hand to brush your messy hair from your face. He kissed the tip of your nose, then pressing another lazy kiss to your lips.

“I know, sweet girl. It’s okay,” He said warmly, “I meant that you deserved to feel good after you’ve had such a bad day.”

He whisked you away to your bed, snuggling up with you to give you a break from both studying and fucking. He littered you with kisses, aiding in getting rid of the remnants of your bad mood. He whispered sweet nothings in your ear and kissed all the places that made you smile or giggle happily.

Today reminded you of one of the many reasons you loved your beloved Harry. He was patient when you were being difficult. He was understanding when you were struggling. He was there for you when you needed him to be. He made your heart swell and your stomach flutter every time.

He was the perfect resolution every time things got hard.

“Thanks for making me feel better. In more ways than one.” You said appreciatively with a small laugh.

Harry grinned proudly, leaving another kiss on your forehead.

“Anytime, my love.”

#Harry Potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter x fem!reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter x female reader #harry potter smut #harry potter fluff #harry potter fanfiction #seriouslysnape

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sinner-as-saint · 3 years

Text

Crawling Back To You.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Run-through: Bucky Barnes had a lot on his plate at the moment. Regrets, fears, nightmares and desperately trying to do the right things to make up for his past as the Winter Soldier. Amongst those things, barely anything made him truly happy, or safe or loved. None did actually - except for you. He met you at a bar once and since then, you’ve been his sanctuary. You both knew he wasn’t quite ready to be in a relationship, yet you were always there with open arms whenever he needed a friend, a shoulder to lean on, or someone to help him take his mind off things. Be it a nightmare, or memories from the past coming to haunt him, or any major or minor inconvenience, the super soldier would find himself turning to you for help.

Themes: angst, fluff, smut

He woke up on the floor, covered in cold sweat.

The flashbacks of the nightmares kept resurfacing until it finally faded again. Faded, not truly gone because he knew they’d be back tomorrow again - his past coming to haunt him. He sighed and squinted at the screen in front of him.

The T.V was on, playing reruns of a show he did not care about. He simply needed the noise to help him fall asleep. The quiet and silence was his own personal hell, so he always needed some sort of background noise to help him out.

Bucky tried getting some sleep again; tossing and turning on the wooden flooring but he couldn’t fall back asleep. His mind was racing, too many thoughts at once. He checked the time, the clock read 1 a.m. He could go on a run, but he didn’t really feel like it. He could go to the gym, but he didn’t feel like working out either.

He needed something. An escape, a friend. You, he needed you.

Bucky reached for his phone, and a few taps later he was calling you. He knew it was late but you somehow always picked up his calls no matter what the time was. The rings later, he heard your voice speak up from the other end.

“Buck?” You sounded sleepy, but not like he had woken you up, you sounded like you were about to fall asleep.

He closed his eyes and sighed at the sound of your voice. He could picture you, all tucked in your comfy bed, surrounded by pillows and your soft blankets. Perhaps you had lost track of time because of a good book, or perhaps you were up late responding to emails for work.

“Hey doll. Did I wake you up?” he asked, leaning back against the wall of his living room, his legs sprawled out on the floor in front of him. Only sometimes did he feel like he was taking advantage of your kindness, but then again he could be selfish when it came to you. You were his, and that’s that.

You let out a little laugh. “Of course not, Bucky. I was just finishing up some work.” He could hear your sheets shuffling, “Are you okay? Did you have another nightmare?” you asked, softly.

Bucky told you he did. Then he went on to tell you exactly what he had dreamt of. Sometimes he felt like he was opening up more to you than his shrink. But truth is, you made him feel like he was more than just a broken soldier, or a problem who needed to be remedied or fixed. You made him feel like he was human after all.

“I… I’m trying to fall back asleep but…” his voice trailed off. He didn’t have to say it, you understood perfectly. He knew you did.

Then he heard his favorite words coming from you, “Come over Buck, I’m waiting.”

He wasted no time in getting up from the floor and getting dressed. Dark jeans, shirt, jacket and not to forget his gloves. Sometimes he wondered why he felt so giddy when you asked him to come over, which was almost every night. He wondered what it would be like to come home to you every night instead, had it been a perfect world. He always felt like he was clinging to you too much, for everything. But then you always told him that you didn’t mind. You told him you loved his company.

He grabbed his helmet before stepping out of his apartment. There was a light drizzle outside but he didn’t care, he just needed to be with you. He got down the stairs and then rushed to start his mean bike and then rushed to your apartment building. You lived in a much nicer part of the city than he did, and he often wondered why you were putting up with someone like him when you could have a man who would give you a life you’ve always dreamt of. He often asked you that, but you always just smiled at him, you never answered.

On his way up to your floor, he couldn’t help but feel all warm in the elevator. He counted down the seconds till he could see you. He often slept over at your place, he loved it. Cuddling, making love, followed by lazy mornings, him trying to get you to not go to work and spend the day with him instead. He loved how you made him feel.

He knocked on your door, already taking off his gloves because he needed to feel your skin against his. Your body heat made him feel so much better. He heard you unlocking the door from the other side and not even a second later, he saw your pretty face smiling at him. Dressed in silk PJ shorts and a t-shirt, you looked breathtakingly beautiful even at one thirty in the morning.

“Hello there,” you greeted him, smirking. “That was fast.” You teased, opening the door wider to let him in.

He smiled and stepped inside, closing the door behind him and pulling you in for a hug immediately. You felt his slightly damp and cold jacket press against you but you hugged him back tightly anyways.

“I needed to see you.” He mumbled, pressing his face into your neck.

“I know.”

You and Bucky ended up in your bed, cuddling under the blankets. He loved the dimmed night light you always had on, knowing that he hated being in complete darkness. He loved how cozy your room was, how spacious and airy but also warm and comfortable.

The large window by your bed showed a lovely view of the city lights, which were right now blurred by the foggy glass, thanks to the light drizzle earlier. He could tell that the air was cold outside, but in here with you everything was just right.

He had stripped down to just his boxers and he laid his head on your chest, his face facing away from yours, while you played with his hair and occasionally ran your hand down his back, scratching his skin lightly. His cold metal arm lazily ran up and down your thighs and he noticed the goosebumps on your skin that he was causing.

He could hear your steady heartbeats and that was his favorite sound in the entire world. It calmed him down.

You looked down, smiling softly at the sight of the muscular soldier using you as a human pillow. You could hear him let out quiet moans as you gently scratched his scalp. You still remembered the first time you two met, at a bar.

It was late on a winter night, and the nearby bar was rather empty; just a few people here and there. And a certain muscular man in a dark leather jacket caught your eye. He was sitting at the counter, and you were in one of the booths. Eventually, you got up and decided to go talk to him.

You recognized him immediately. Ex-Winter Soldier, Captain America’s best friend, James Buchanan Barnes.

Small talks turned into a couple more rounds of beers. He was a little off and awkward at first but he loosened up eventually. He even walked you back to your car, not wanting you to be alone in the dark, foggy and empty parking lot.

That was the first time he kissed you, right before he opened the door of your car for you.

“Will I see you again?” He asked, high off the adrenaline which coursed through his veins ever since you kissed him back.

“Of course you will. Good night, James.” You kissed his cheek before getting into your car and driving off.

A smile formed on your face as you thought of that night. “Do you remember the first time we met?” You asked softly.

Bucky turned his face to you, placing his head back on your chest. He was so close that all you needed to do was to lean in a little to kiss his soft, pink lips.

He smiled. “Yeah, why?”

“No reason, I just wanted you to remember it.”

Bucky chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss on your skin, right above your breasts. “You’ve been awfully quiet. What is it?”

You just smiled at him, “Nothing. You’ve been awfully quiet too.” And judging by the look in his eyes, you could already tell there was something else to his silence. “What is it?”

He was quiet.

Sighing, you flipped the two of you around; straddling his waist while he laid comfortably against your multiple pillows.

“Buck, tell me.” You pressed your palms against his chest to hold yourself up.

“Sam needs my help with something. Another bad guy, another mission, another fight. Same old.” He sounded indifferent.

You couldn’t blame him. He had been fighting for decades, non-stop. He had lost so much while doing so, but he also didn’t know how to deal with the calm, and silence and the quiet. There was so much he needed to figure out about himself still.

“Do you not wanna go?”

He smiled faintly as he lazily rubbed up and down your exposed thighs. “It’s my job, I have to. Innocent people will be hurt if I don’t. I want to help them.”

“Then what’s the issue?”

“I’ll have to leave you behind for a little while.” He didn’t want to. He didn’t know how to be away from you anymore because he hadn’t been for months now. The thought of not being able to hold you close at night and having your heartbeats lull him to sleep was scary.

You smiled down at him. “I’ll be here when you come back, Bucky.”

He reached out and cupped your face with his metal hand. “And what if you find someone better while I’m gone?”

You frowned down at him. “Where does that come from?”

He gently stroked your cheek. “I’m just saying. You deserve someone a little more… normal.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Normal is boring, you seem perfectly fine to me.”

He chuckled. “Why do you put up with me, doll?” It was a rhetorical question, he didn’t expect an answer because he had asked you this countless number of times but you never gave him a reply before.

However, you did this time. “Because I’m in love with you, James Buchanan Barnes.” You had been meaning to tell him this for a while now. “You don’t have to say it back, I just needed you to know that no one’s ever gonna replace you. I love you.”

He was a little surprised, his heart raced as he processed everything. How could someone as gentle, kind and beautiful like you fall for someone as broken as him? “Doll… I…”

You leaned down to kiss his forehead. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You giggled, then pulled away to look at him. “You deserve all the good things in this world, Buck. You deserve to be loved, and cared for. And if you’d let me, I’d love to show you that.”

You carefully pressed your lips to his, kissing him with all the love you had. His metal hand held you at the back of your neck and the other wrapped around your waist. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss; turning your mind into a foggy mess for a little while before he pulled away and stared deep into your eyes.

You reached out and gently caressed his face, Bucky leaned into your touch. “I’m gonna miss you.” He mumbled.

“When do you leave?” You asked.

“Tomorrow, perhaps.”

You leaned in for a kiss again, accidentally brushing your crotch against his erection; making him smirk through the kiss as he pulled you even closer. You purposely moved against him while you kissed him again deeply.

Bucky soon flipped the two of you back around and settled in between your legs, kissing down your neck. “I’m gonna miss making love to you almost every night.” He whispered against your skin. His voice alone sent chills down your back, and made you feel all sorts of warm and tingly feelings inside.

Bucky movements were gentle and slow as he took your clothes off, making sure you were both under the warm covers still; kissing you occasionally as he undressed you, and caressed your body as you squirmed under him.

He kissed his way down your body, until his face was right in between your legs. You moaned as he parted your legs and placed a kiss on your inner thigh, pulling your underwear down your legs and kissing his way back to your wet folds. You threw your head back, and bit your lip; whining when you felt his tongue teasing you gently. The warmth of his mouth was driving you insane.

His tongue gently teased your clit while his fingers slipped inside of you; stroking you gently while you arched your back off the surface of your bed as the pleasure became slightly overwhelming. You whimpered and squirmed under him as his tongue moved perfectly against you.

He had you coming undone all over his tongue and his fingers in no time, and he licked you clean when he was done. Kissing his way up your body again. “I’m gonna miss your taste.” He was shameless enough to whisper it in your ear; making you blush.

His hands roamed around your body, touching you wherever he could, until he finally cupped your core and rubbed the sensitive skin around your swollen clit – making you shudder under him. You whined as he slipped his metal fingers past your entrance yet again. His head dipped into your neck and he licked and bit around your skin until he found your sweet spot. “And I’m gonna miss your warmth.”

“Buck…” You moaned quietly as he replaced his fingers with his cock.

He placed his mouth on top of yours again, to swallow your whimpers and moans as he pushed his cock into you. His breathing got shallow again as he pushed himself fully into you. He lifted his head and watched you grimace in pleasure and pain as his cock stretched you to your maximum. He watched you in awe as your lips parted and you moaned his name once he filled you up nicely.

You whined as he slowly slipped out of you completely, before slamming back into you with a slightly bigger force.

He groaned at the feel of your walls wrapped around him, squeezing and clenching around him. You heard him swear and felt him bite down on your lip as he sped up into you. He tugged on your lips and he started moving his hips; rocking into you slowly, then gradually increasing his speed. Your back arched off the surface of the bed again and your chest pressed to his.

“I’m gonna miss watching you squirm under me…” he whispered, “as I pleasure you like no one ever will.” He moaned into your ear. “You’re mine.”

You were a moaning mess under him in no time. There was something about the way he kissed you, deeply and passionately; as though he was scared you might just get away from him.

He worshipped your body. He mumbled how good you felt in your ear, groaning as you bucked your hips to meet each one of his thrusts as well. He kissed you roughly as he pounded into you; his metal fingers wrapped around your throat. He fucked you raw and relentlessly, watching how your face morphed into frowns of pleasure.

He pressed his forehead on yours; looking down to where your bodies connected so intimately. Then he pulled away to look into your eyes with that animalistic, primal and fiery look in his eyes. His lips parted as he panted while he fucked you like he owned you.

“You’re gonna miss me too aren’t you, doll?”

You nodded, whining in pleasure. He smirked. His hand left your neck and slid in between your connected bodies and furiously rubbed your clit, earning a loud moan out of you. “Say it, baby. Tell me how much you’re gonna miss my cock buried deep inside you…”

You couldn’t talk as the pressure in between your legs became too much to handle, and you craved for release. He noticed and slipped his tongue back into your mouth one last time and took your bottom lip between his teeth again.

“Come on, cum for me… doll,” he swore as he felt you clench around him perfectly. You came hard around him, moaning and whimpering under him as he finished right after you; kissing your swollen lips deeply as he came.

He pushed his face into the crook of your neck as he caught his breath. And you cradled his head; panting as well. Your fingers gently massaged his scalp as he calmed his racing heart. A few moments later, he shifted all his weight right on top of you making you laugh as you tried to scoot out from under him.

He groaned and pulled you closer. “Come here.” He pressed you against his body and wrapped his arms around. “I love you too, doll. So much.”

You buried your face into his chest, inhaling his scent. “I’m gonna miss you. All of you.” You lifted your head up to look at him smiling down at you. “Come back fast.”

He chuckled. “You know I will. No matter where I go, I’ll always come crawling back to you.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #tfatws #winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine

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yourtamaki · 3 years

Text

the broken melody of us

matsukawa x f!reader

word count: 4k

request: mattsun hurt/comfort + neglect?

warnings: hurt/comfort, neglect, body worship, praise kink, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming

it was a song and dance at this point. a well rehearsed play with a blinding spotlight on the exhausted actors onstage. both of you go through the motions, no life behind the words you’ve spoken so many times they held no meaning anymore. you don’t know why you keep up the charade. you never expect a different result yet still you pick up the phone everyday and call your boyfriend.

“you think you’ll be home in time for dinner?”

sometimes you get a different, automated message. “maybe. might have to stay late,” or “can’t, i’ve gotta finish something up,” or your least favourite. a simple, clipped, “no.”

“don’t stay out too late.” you should cut this part from the script, he never listens.

“i’ll try.”

“i love you.” this line is always to be spoken quietly, followed by holding your breath while you wait for his response. it’s the only reason you make these calls. this is your only chance to hear him say it and pretend he means it as much as he once did.

“love you too.” the line goes dead, the lights dim and he’s gone. you’re alone on an empty stage staring out at a bored audience. bored of the foolish protagonist who keeps them locked in the theatre, playing the same ending over and over and expecting something to give, to change. they watch on, silent and judging while you barter away what little dignity you have left.

let them watch.

the rejection doesn’t sting as badly as it used to. you’ve learned to bear it, swallow down the hurt that sits like a stone in your gut and go about your day, filling it with any meaningless errand that would stop your mind from wandering back to him.

mattsun was subtle, you could give him that much. the way he slowly pulled away from your arms until you could hardly remember how he felt beneath your palms. the realization that you don’t really know your boyfriend anymore was slow to hit you but it knocked the air out of your lungs when it did. it crashed down on you when you woke in the middle of the night and turned to stare at his back gently rising and falling with every breath. his hair is longer then you remember and you don’t know why the thought has a lump forming in your throat. you focus instead on the broad expanse of his back. he’s tense, even in sleep, shoulders rigid and you’re sure if you could see his face, his brows would be furrowed. subtle changes that are enough for you to realize you’ve been shut out of his life.

you used to know him. when you were university kids who thought the future would never catch up to them and spent countless days in each other’s company. it wasn’t so much you knew him, it felt like you were him. and he was you. less attached to the hip and more intertwined with one another. you two were of one mind, to the point where you knew what the other needed before they’d even say it.

your mattsun who was always just a text away.

your mattsun who would indulge your late night drives, who would look at you with a permanent crooked smile on his face and love in his eyes.

“you think we’ll always be like this?” you said one night, straddling him in panties and a baggy hoodie in the backseat and lazily kissing beneath the stars. and because he was yours and understood every little anxious thought that crossed your mind, he didn’t question why you were asking, didn’t make you explain what you meant, didn’t try to make a half assed joke about it.

his hands trailed up your sides as he contemplated his answer, sending shivers up your spine. “probably not. things always change. we’ll change with them.”

“what if things get worse?”

“they might. but what if they get better? just cause it’s different doesn’t mean it's scary, angel.”

“i know. but i hate thinking about it cause things are so good right now. i want it to last forever.”

“we got time. let’s make the most of it, yeah?” he gripped your hips, slowly grinding you against his growing bulge and pulling you back into a kiss, sighing as your lips slotted together. you took control of the pace and grinned against him when a groan spilled into your mouth.

“is that your way of saying we should hurry up and fuck?”

“it’s working, isn’t it?” before you could pull your sweater up over your head, he cupped your face and brought your forehead to his, sincerity shining through his dark eyes. “i’ll always love you. that’ll never change. got it?”

“got it.” you managed to push the words out despite the lump that formed in your throat. he kept his eyes locked on yours as he slid your panties to the side and sank inside you, the familiar stretch a welcome one.

it was nothing special, one night of many spent panting into each other’s mouths with an unspoken promise still hanging from your lips. but it was a memory you circled back to often, so often you could hear the echo of his vow ring through your head.

your fears came to pass not long after that. life caught up and tore him from you, leaving you a shattered mess in the aftermath. you tried to fit jagged pieces of yourself back together in an attempt to remake the person you used to be but what stared back at you only left you keenly aware of the empty space he used to reside.

these days, you like going to the roof of your apartment and letting the wind blow through those countless gaps in your soul. you feel whole for a short while as it whistles through you, the air filled with the broken melody of you, of the relationship that slips past your grasp more everyday. it’s shrill and ear piercing and leaves goosebumps littered on your skin.

you can’t stop listening to it.

it’s where you were now, staring out as the sun dipped below the horizon and listening to the haunting sound that’s been your only company in recent memory. later, you’ll go home and crawl into bed desperate for any warmth and no time to miss the heat of a body next to yours. your phone lights up bright in contrast to the darkening sky and it takes you a few moments of staring blankly at the screen for it to sink in that mattsun is trying to call you.

this isn’t part of the script.

you don’t know your lines.

and yet you find yourself answering anyway, hitting the green button before the call drops and you raise your phone to your ear silently.

“are you okay?” his voice comes out rushed and strung together almost before your phone is pressed to your ear.

“why’re you asking?”

“remember that time you failed that essay? i think it was third year and you hid in your room all day and wouldn’t answer the phone?” you did remember. how you couldn’t bear to face the world that day with the crushing weight of failure hanging over you and how shocked you were to see mattsun standing at the front door. “did i ever tell you why i checked up on you?”

“no.”

“the whole day i felt, in my gut, like i needed to see you. i can’t describe it, it was like a stab that just dug deeper until i went to your place. would you believe me if i said i have that feeling right now?”

“i- i would.” you say quietly, wondering if he could even hear you over the roar of the wind.

“are you okay?” he repeats. there’s a weight behind his words that has tears springing to your eyes.

“no, issei ‘m not.”

“i’m almost home, i’m parking right now. i’ll be up in a few minutes, okay? wait for me, angel.”

you were always waiting for him, weren’t you? what's a couple more minutes? you hang up and try in vain push down the wave of anxiousness that hits you. it’s just mattsun, you try to remind yourself. even if it’s been awhile since you’ve really felt like a part of his life, he’s still the person you fell in love with. right?

even if the issei from the past would never have made you feel so alone. the issei that was free from the hardships of real life, of 9-5s and bills due and rent to pay. you miss that issei, mourn for him on empty rooftops everyday. maybe he’s still alive somewhere within this new issei but it’s not like you would know.

you head off the roof, shivering slightly as you make your way home. the days were only getting colder, you should’ve known not to stay out for so long. you were trying to get your shaky hands to cooperate and unlock the door when you hear the elevator dings open and your name being called out.

“you weren’t home?” he asks, gently prying your keys from your grasp and opening the door for you both. as soon as he locks it behind you, his hands are covering yours once more. “baby you’re freezing.”

words. where were your words? you couldn’t call up any as he brought your joined hands to his mouth, blowing hot air on them and rubbing them between his to warm them up. this is the closest you’ve been to him in who knows how long and you couldn’t summon up a single sentence. it’s not your fault. his attention has always stunned you into silence.

he thought you were painfully shy the first time you met and though that was half true, you mostly found yourself silently panicking about the handsome man that suddenly sat beside you. the professor had paired the class off to discuss the readings for that lecture and your interest had only come to life when you saw the dark haired man make his way to you.

“i’m gonna be honest.” he said as he plopped down beside you and showed you the blank document open on his laptop. “i have no idea what we’re supposed to be doing right now. do you?”

it was his eyes, you decided much later, hugging your pillow and staring at the text you just received from a new number. you came alive under his gaze like you could finally catch your breath, everything dull until his eyes landed on you. you don’t believe in love at first sight, this was something different. it was the dust of collapsing stars finding each other once more. it was strings of fate being braided together. it was more profound, more important than love and it all happened in a moment.

you nodded in response to his earlier question though it was clear neither of you were paying any attention to what was going on in class, too caught up in the small bubble that surrounded you and drowned out the rest of the world.

“matsukawa. i’m- my name’s matsukawa.” you must’ve given your name in return judging by the smile he gave you in return. “so what’re we doing, partner?”

this time, you forced a proper response, intensely aware of how you held yourself in a way you’ve never been before. “yeah, she just wants us to talk about today’s reading.”

matsukawa watched you pull up your notes, resting his head in his hand while you began explaining the general concepts. you paused when you noticed he was still looking at you and not at the notes you had angled towards him.

“am i explaining it okay?”

“we’re a month into the semester, how have i not noticed you before?”

“guess you don’t notice something you’re not looking for.”

just then the professor grabbed everyone’s attention, the student’s quietly migrating back to their seats but matsukawa stayed where he was. instead, you could just hear him speak under his breath, more to himself then to you but you still managed to pick it up, your face going hot as it echoed in your head. “trust me, i’m looking now.”

the memory leaves you more vulnerable than you expected, soft in his arms as the numbness finally fades and the shaking stops.

“where were you?” he says.

“the roof.” his brows furrow, lips pulled down in a frown. it’s strange feeling yourself falling back into reading him so easily, not needing him to ask to know he wanted you to explain why. “i like going up there. this place is too quiet with just me in it.”

the longer you watch him, the more you pick up from his body language. the confusion then understanding that flits across his face, the underlying care you’re so familiar with as he smooths his thumb over the back of your hand. but more than anything you start to see his guilt. his muscles are rigid with it, it swims in his eyes that never quite seem to meet yours.

“i’ve fucked up, haven't i?” he finally says when he realizes you won’t be the one to breach the subject.

“issei…”

“no, i have. things have been so endless, i feel like i’m half awake and i’ve hurt you because of it.”

you squeeze his hands, trying to reassure him. “just talk to me. please.”

“i hate it. work is nonstop, everyday is the same shit over and over. it’s just a wave that keeps knocking me down and i can barely get my footing before it pushes me down again. and every day i think about quitting just to get ready the next morning.

“if i was alone, if… if i didn’t have you i would’ve quit so long ago but i want to give you the life you deserve and i can’t do that if i’m broke. and it all might be for nothing cause i might’ve lost you already.”

the confession ends with mattsun clearing his throat, blinking fast and concentrating solely on your laced hands. you can’t seem to catch your breath, struggling under the weight he had carried silently until now as he finally shares the burden with you.

“you haven’t lost me, issei. look at me.” you wait until his eyes meet yours before dropping your voice to a whisper. “you haven’t lost me.”

“i don’t deserve you.”

“it’s not about deserving, i chose you. i chose to love you, i chose to stay when things got bad. yeah, you hurt me.” it’s impossible to miss the full body flinch at your words, “and i’m not ready to forgive you just yet. but that doesn’t mean i’m giving up on us. i don’t want you working yourself to death for me. i don’t care where we live or how much money you spend on me. i don’t need all of that, i just need you. got it?”

“got it.” you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows down whatever feeling overcomes him, “i’m sorry.”

“i know.”

“tell me what you need, please. i need- i need to make this right.”

you answer by leaning forward and mattsun meets you halfway. the kiss is soft in contrast to the way you bundle the front of his shirt in your fists, afraid the moment might end before it’s even begun but mattsun takes his time cherishing you. there’s regret and gratitude and love that dances across your tongue and the taste has pressure building behind your eyes.

it isn’t enough. you need him closer, need him to line the cracks of your soul with his touch. you pull just far back enough to break the kiss and mumble against his lips, “more, ‘sei please. i’m so cold.”

“anything you want, pretty baby. let me make you feel good, yeah?”

his lips crash back down on yours with renewed eagerness. there’s a desperation that wasn’t there a moment ago fuelling you both and urging you to stumble blind into the bedroom, barely letting your mouths detach as you fumble and undress each other.

it’s not until you’re naked before him that your head clears a bit and shyness comes creeping in. he cups your face as though he could sense you curling into yourself and simply says, “beautiful.”

the utter conviction in his voice is enough to dispel any insecurities before they have a chance to latch on and you turn your head to kiss the center of his palm, silently telling him you were all right. together you land in a tangled heap in bed, his half hard cock resting on your thigh. mattsun kisses his way down your neck, licking and sucking at every sensitive spot he had mapped out over the years.

“issei…” you say, impatience tinging your voice as you feel your core throb with need.

“i’ll get you there, angel, you know i will. let me take my time, i missed you.”

true to his word, he began kissing every inch of skin he could reach. your tits, your stomach, your thighs all the way down to your ankles, he made sure to shower with affection. it’s nearly overwhelming. you knew you were starved for his attention but it feels like something breaks loose inside you the longer his mouth trails over your body, whispering declarations into your skin that left you tingling in his wake. by the time his fingers dip between your legs, your thighs are sticky with arousal, clit thrumming and begging to be touched.

“look at my pretty baby’s pussy. all wet just for me?”

“mhmm ‘s all for you, issei.”

he hums, swirling his middle finger around your entrance and pressing the thick digit inside with ease. it’s only a few pumps later he adds another, stretching out your gummy walls. his other hand drifts over your mound, his thumb finally giving your clit some attention as his fingers graze over a spot inside you that has your hips rising off the bed.

“stay still. you want to be my good girl, right?” the quiet authority that radiates from mattsun has you clenching around him, doing your best to do as he asks and keep your legs spread for him. “there you go. you’re taking me so well, baby. you’re close, aren’t you? i can feel it”

mattsun loves showing off how well he knew your body, how it never took long for you to crumble beneath him. a few more idle circles with the pad of his thumb and your orgasm washes over you, rising gently and leaving you relaxed in its wake.

that state didn’t last long as he replaces his thumb with his mouth, sucking at your clit that twitches against his tongue, still sensitive from your high. “issei! w-wait please give me a sec-”

his glare is enough to cut through your babbling, his fingers never slowing in their strokes against that sweet spot. you let out a low moan as he adds yet another finger, the stretch just shy of uncomfortable but it’s quick to fade into pleasure once again. the flame in your gut is far more intense this time and you can’t stop the whimpers he pulls from you. you thread your fingers through his dark curls, tugging on them and pulling him deeper into your folds.

“that’s it, princess. cum on my tongue and i’ll stuff you full, i promise. you can do it, c’mon baby.”

the encouragement has the coil in your gut tightening once more and the lewd sounds of mattsun lapping up every drop that escapes you is enough to snap it. when the blood stops ringing in your ears, you realize he’s shifted your positions. he’s sat cross-legged on the bed with you pulled into his lap, legs locked around his waist. his cock is pinned between your stomachs, smearing precum on your skin and your mouth waters as you catch sight of the blushing tip.

he whispers your name to grab your attention, naked devotion plain on his face when you gaze up at him. “i love you.”

this. this was your breaking point. the words you longed to hear every time you picked up the phone for those dreaded calls. your vision blurs with tears that well up and spill down your cheeks before you could blink them away. “you do?”

“i do, baby, with everything i’ve got. i-“ he falters for a moments, visibly steeling himself for what he wanted to say. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you. there’s not a future i can picture that doesn’t include you. you’re it for me.”

“i want that too ‘sei.” you hiccup, more tears trickle out faster than you can wipe them clear.

you feel his whole body relax, hands rubbing at your sides to soothe you. “don’t cry, angel. wait till i’m inside you at least.”

“shut up.” your laugh comes out watery but it feels good to smile. “how do you go from sweet to nasty so fast?”

“just wanted to see you smile.” you try and fail to suppress another grin that only widens when mattsun peppers your cheeks with loud kisses. “so pretty and all mine.”

“all yours.” you repeat, grinding your soaked folds along the underside of his cock. “and you’re mine, right?”

“that’s right, princess. go on, take what’s yours.”

sinking down on mattsun feels like coming home, the empty ache finally gone as he fills you and you both moan when he bottoms out. there’s no way for you to bounce in this position but you find that you don’t mind. you feel closer to him like this, what little space there is between you vibrating with how vulnerable you both were.

it’s relaxing, slowly rolling your hips against each other, not building towards anything and indulging in the other’s touch. your hands roam across his broad back, sucking dark marks into his neck while he grabs at your ass, kneading and groping so possessively you clench around him.

“fuck.” he groans next to your ear. “keeping squeezing me with that princess cunt, you feel so fucking good. just like that, good girl.”

“issei…” you whimper, pressure gradually building in your gut as your grinding gets sloppy and legs grow weak.

“what is it, baby? use your words.”

“want more, ‘sei i want your cum.”

“yeah? want me to fill up this greedy pussy and keep you warm with my cum?” he leans forward, keeping you cradled in his arms as your back hits the mattress, your legs still crossed around his waist keeping him as close to you as possible.

you nod, half delirious with need and mattsun begins thrusting in earnest. his cock is so thick he nudges against every sensitive spot along your walls, his tip battering just below your cervix and hitting so deep you swear you can feel it in your throat. his hands pry yours open from where you had been gripping the sheets and laces his fingers with yours. a swell of love rises in you and has you gasping for air as he fucks you into the mattress. you can’t even hear your own moans over the squelch as you grow wetter and wetter and the smack of his heavy balls against your ass.

your orgasm takes both of you by surprise, ripping through you so violently you’re left a shaking mess. mattsun’s hips stutter, bucking wildly into you as he nears his own high and you stare in awe as he reaches it. it’s a sight you’ll never get enough of, how beautiful he looks as he spills endlessly inside you, mindlessly grinding it deeper with his softening cock.

“you okay, angel?” he asks, pulling you in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

“mhmm. can we stay like this?” you weren’t ready to put any space between you, not so soon after reconnecting.

“‘course we can.” he settles over you, knowing exactly what you need. his weight a reassurance that grounds you in a way words never could. it’s a conversation in its own right, one that could only pass between two people who knew each other as well as you knew each other. in the quiet afterglow he tells you that he’s here with you. that you were going to work on being okay again. that he wouldn’t let you feel that lonely ever again. and you believe him with every fibre of your being.

dedicated to: @honeykeigo @ohno-otome @keigobaby @saintdabi @toshidou @sawam0chi

#matsukawa x reader #matsukawa smut #matsukawa angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu angst #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa issei smut #matsukawa issei angst #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! angst #haikyuu!! smut

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 3 years

Note

Hello! I don't know if you're still doing asks, but I was wondering if you had any disabled Stiles fics? Blind, deaf, paralyzed etc? If not thats okay but if so thank you so much!

AND

Hey! I just finished reading Cornerstone and Windows on ao3 and I was wondering if you knew of any other blind fics? It doesn't have to be Stiles being blind. I'm just curious. Thank you! I get all my favorite fics from you!

Here you go, Stiles with a disability.

Windows by dr_girlfriend

(28/28 I 83,017 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek has a new neighbor who won't stop looking.

Excerpt:

“You’re blind,” Derek said flatly, the anger draining from him so suddenly he felt almost woozy. His vision cleared, his claws sliding back into blunt fingernails.

“Thanks for the memo, genius,” the kid said acidly. “I can still fucking defend myself, so don’t take another damn step.”

“Fuck, I...I’m sorry,” Derek stuttered.

“What?!” The kid’s brow crinkled. “I mean — what?! You’re fucking sorry!?” His lips thinned into a harsh line. “What, is this some kinda Hallmark movie where you’re discovering the error of your ways because you don’t want to rob a blind person?! That’s fucking condescending, man. I’ll have you know that —”

“Just, wait.” Derek interrupted what was apparently the start of a convincing argument as to why he should rob the kid after all, feeling his head start to spin. “This is — it’s a misunderstanding. I’m — I’m not robbing you. You’re — you’re safe, okay? I’m taking three steps back. Just — just let me explain.”

“Explain why you came busting into my apartment? Yeah, go right ahead, man, I can’t wait to hear this epic tale.”

Cornerstone by Vendelin

(6/6 I 83,738 I Explicit I Sterek)

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

***

Darkness Before Dawn by lanoirpapillon

(1/1 I 856 I Teen I Sterek)

"Due to the actions of the Alpha pack, Stiles goes blind. After the threat is gone, Stiles has to learn to live without his sight, and maybe Derek would make the perfect seeing-eye wolf."

Nothing is Over by CinnamonLily

(1/1 I 2,083 I General I Steter)

Stiles had the perfect life, until his mate died. Again. It's been nine months, and he's not doing well. In fact, he resents everyone else's happiness and has become a hermit on autopilot. Somehow, he's forgotten that Peter never stays dead.

I See You Better by theroguesgambit

(1/1 I 4,686 I Teen I Sterek)

He dreams, sometimes, of his last moments of seeing.

At the church in Mexico, Stiles is blinded by a Berserker. Derek uses his new wolf status to act as a guide dog, while Stiles adjusts to his new reality.

Clueless by HappyJuicyfruit

(1/1 I 4,748 I General I No Pairing)

After everything they’ve been through together, all Derek wants is for his pack to be connected with strong, thriving, pack bonds. And for the most part, its working. The pack is growing, healing, happy.

He just needs to figure out why Stiles hates him so much.

My reflection is not who I am but who I must hide by RainbowDuck

(1/1 I 5,235 I Not Rated I No Pairing)

The first 11 years of Stiles (no one will ever know my real name) Stilinski's life were more of less textbook. The next 3 were hell and if it could go wrong, it did. Stiles and her dad Noah move to Beacon Hills for a new start and it ends up being the worst and the best thing.

In Your Footsteps (I Will Walk) by cywscross

(1/1 I 8,873 I Teen I Steter)

It takes him months, but Stiles gave him a destination, gave him direction, gave him hope, and so he goes.

T: Tremors by brokenes

(1/1 I 9,477 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek tried not to think of hospitals and blood and hearts no longer beating and his legs, leaving it all behind, knowing that Stiles' no longer could. It took him seven years to stop leaving.

Wild Tonic by officerstilinskihale

(1/1 I 11,010 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles nodded and smiled again, his teeth flashing brightly and he signed something again, before looking frustrated with himself.

“You’re welcome,” Derek told him, feeling a wave of relief when Stiles’ face brightened. That would’ve been awkward if Stiles hadn’t been trying to say thank you.

“I had a really good time, so yeah. I’m glad you came with me,” he said, feeling his face grow hot. Derek wasn’t usually like this. He wasn’t confident. Sure, he had the looks and he could flirt shamelessly when he got hit on, but he always got shy around the people he genuinely liked, not that there was too many of those.

But Stiles didn’t let him dwell on that. He gripped Derek's arm, grinned cheekily and pointed at himself before lifting two fingers. It took a while for Derek to get it but when he did, he couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face.

Me too.

Show Your Teeth, Yellow With Desire by ItsMe_Basil

(1/1 I 22,883 I Explicit I Steter)

The man looked up when Stiles stepped into the room, eyes appraisingly taking Stiles in from head to toe before smirking.

"Hello, sweetheart."

Stiles felt his heart jump into his mouth, his breath hitching in his throat. The orderly hadn't stayed long, leaving the two of them alone.

"Peter." He breathed. "You're real."

where the Double Walker dwells by forestofbabel

(10/10 I 38,164 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek looked like he always did, perfectly groomed and a little gruff. Though, as Stiles glanced at him, Derek’s face was lax with surprise.

“Stiles?” Derek asked, sounding flummoxed.

“Dude, I know it’s been a while, but don’t be so surprised I’m hung over in the woods. It’s practically tradition at this point.”

Derek sniffed the air, eyeing him with distrust. “But, you can’t… I just…” he trailed it off like a question, taking a half step forward before pulling out his phone and dialing a number, eyes never leaving Stiles.

Complications by idareu2bme

(15/15 I 42,523 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek hadn’t meant to involve Stiles in all this --Stiles who was warm and pliable in his sleep, whose warm, brown eyes reflected light they would never again see, who had a smile brighter than the sun, and who could see Derek when others never did.

At least the Road to Hell is paved, I'm not good with Stairways by lady emebalia (emebalia)

(80/80 I 170,037 I Explicit I Sterek)

When Derek signs up on a BDSM dating site, he expects things to be straight forward. Turns out the road ahead has more unexpected turns than he thought. But at least Stiles comes well equipped for twists and turns.

Caretakers by em2mb

(14/15 I 277,924 I Teen I Sterek)

Now Lydia sees the white room clearly, Stiles sitting cross-legged on the nemeton in his lacrosse jersey, squinting at a chessboard.

That’s when Lydia realizes her vantage point makes her Stiles’ opponent — and she has him in check.

Her instinct is to push her own king into danger, but Stiles grabs her wrist. “Come on, Lydia,” he says dryly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Chess might not be your game, but surely you know that’s against the rules.”

Lydia tries to squirm away from him. “But you’ll die,” she insists, his grip tightening so much she’s certain his long fingers will leave bruises.

“Say it, Lydia,” Stiles urges. “Checkmate. Checkmate. Checkmate — ”

#teen wolf #sterek #steter #stiles stilinski #derek hale #peter hale #blind!stiles #deaf!stiles

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ushidoux · 3 years

Text

Good Teacher - Sugawara x Reader

Summary: You meet Sugawara on an online dating app expecting something tame, but get more than you expected. (~3.1k words)

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, some features are described ***, dom/sub dynamics, collaring, daddy kink, breathplay, dacryphilia, spanking, edging, toy use, restraint use, sub drop

A/N: Again, this was a commission so some features are described!! Otherwise, please enjoy my first longer BDSM fic.

---

Being alone in your bedroom at 9pm on a Friday night may have felt like a loss on any other day, but today, with your phone buzzing non-stop and every neuron in the sexy parts of your brain firing, you could not think of anything else you would rather do.

Well, actually you could think of a few, and most of them involved slipping out of your pajamas and slipping under your new flame.

Sugawara Koushi.

A name like that sounded sweet. Maybe even bland. Safe.

When you’d swiped right on his profile on the tamer of your social media apps, you’d expected someone mild-mannered and easy to speak to. He was an elementary school teacher with soft features, white hair and a cute mole under his left eye. He couldn’t possibly be as forward as the other guys you’d dealt with over the years. A tame, responsible choice.

You’d started texting back and forth quickly, with polite, formal introductions which progressed to cute messages and long phone calls, and you’d even managed a very chaste first date where he’d picked you up at 8pm on the dot and taken you to a fine restaurant on the water.

You normally would have expected to be dicked down that night, and had paired sexy lingerie under your silky mauve dress for exactly that, but you weren’t too surprised when he left you at your doorstep with a peck on the forehead.

The only unsettling thing about the kiss was the way his eyes had lingered on your lips, just as his fingers trailed the curve of your jaw as he tucked your hair behind your ear. It was too practiced, too… dominant.

You suspected he was holding something back.

And he was, because once you’d ventured to call in the middle of the night, a little bit tipsy and yearning for a little bit more than a smile and a gentle touch from him, you’d broken some sort of dam.

He’d called you a needy, desperate, pretty little slut, desperate for Daddy’s cock but needing to prove herself that she was willing to ride with Daddy’s very, very strict set of rules first, and you’d practically cum at the sudden turn of his voice.

Now anything was fair game.

I have… particular taste. Are you sure you can keep up, princess?

The warmth between your legs and the image of full balls and a weighty, rigid cock told you, you would absolutely be ready for anything he had in store for you.

Yes, daddy. I’m up for anything you want.

You, of course, couldn’t see the wide smile spreading across his face on the other end, as he palmed his cock slowly while reading your texts and admiring your nudes, and texted back:

We’ll need a shit ton of rope.

---

Sugawara’s hands are much larger than you’d anticipate, and rougher, and you wonder how much of it is due to high school athletics or from the fact that he’s quick to slap or spank you at any chance he gets. Your skin is sometimes red, sometimes bruised, and always marked, and it’s exactly the way you like it.

The first time you have sex, he starts you off as though you are the most shy of virgins even though you claim that you’re not exactly inexperienced.

“I wouldn’t want to break you, pretty girl,” he teases, as his hands worship your body, tracking down your waist to the center of your legs, and patting your cunt softly. Today, he’s promised to focus on your pleasure only because he wants to “break you in.” You wonder how many he’s “broken in,” then you realize you don’t really care. You’re his one and only princess right now, and you intend to be for quite a while.

The pleasure of being a good dom is that he can choose to serve - he can choose to be doting and he can choose to be harsh with punishment. Since it’s your first day since you’ve entered this contract with him, he’s decided to focus on the catering part of his personality, and familiarize you with his desires.

The rose-gold Turian collar on your neck compliments your skin well, he takes note, as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth and leans you against him while you are seated on the edge of the bed and he’s kneeling just so before you, fingers deep in your cunt.

“You’re gonna keep that pretty little thing around your neck, aren’t you, pretty baby?”

His fingers move so fast that it’s hard for you to speak, and the arm that’s wrapped around your waist and keeping you flush against him is tightening the longer he continues. He’s a lot stronger than he looks, you know from every heavy spank he’s given you.

“I-I will, daddy, every day and every night,” you pant out, your tongue lolling as his fingers curve upwards and his lips leave your nipple with a soft pop and make their way to your quivering mouth.

“Good,” he whispers as he bites your lower lip. “You’re so obedient… I like that in a little one,” he affirms.

---

He’s kind when he teaches, patient even.

He’s also generous; he gifts you with your first corset, a dark, lacy and tight thing that almost takes your breath away initially, especially when he tightens it onto you himself. Even if it’s constraining, you feel empowered from the very moment you look in the mirror. Your breasts sit high, and you spin once in a gesture of delight; he kisses down your neck as you admire yourself.

“This is only to get you used to a little bit of restriction,” he reassures, as he pulls you into his lap. “But I can’t deny that you look breathtaking.”

---

Since you’ve been so bold as to take his breath away, it isn’t too long until he decides he wants to see what you look like when you’re truly struggling for air. After all, the little shiny thing around your neck catches his eye way too often for his comfort, and his pants suddenly feel too tight for a casual grocery store run.

Your safeword is red, like the blood that courses through your veins as his fingers tighten around your throat.

He thumbs your pink, puffy lips, and it would be loving if he wasn’t calling you a stupid little cocktease.

“Pretty little bambi, prancing around like you’re free to be with anyone other than me.”

The breath that tickles your face is a taunt, because you’re slowly getting lightheaded, barely able to focus on the long index finger he’s commanding you to suck.

The pressure he puts on your neck is varying; for moments you can draw a single staccato breath, which encourages him to press his lips to yours and absorb you in a kiss before he reapplies pressure; his naked body presses against yours, rolling painstakingly slow. He hasn’t even entered you yet.

Breathplay, he calls it.

You gasp as his cock slips into your wet entrance just as fast as his hand leaves your throat, and he too draws a deep breath as he fills you to the hilt.

He lets out a soft laugh as he caresses the hair that is sticking to your face, and readjusts himself yet again - of course, he’s also better endowed than you’d expect him to be - before he picks up speed and chokes you again.

---

“I… Kou-”

“Daddy,” he stresses, unphased as he continues to press a small clitoral stimulator to your tender, overworked bud.

“D-Daddy~” you cry out in a soft, drawn out whine, and you shift a little bit because the ties that keep your ankles attached to the legs of the chair, your pussy exposed and vulnerable with your crotch wide open, are starting to dig into your skin. But you can’t move all that much, there’s additional rope around your waist that keeps you against the back of the chair and you think the soft satin that keeps your wrists behind you is probably overkill, even if you have to admit you like the color.

“Yes, sweetheart~” he whispers in a voice accented with assertive sweetness, his eyes still lowered and focused on the heave of your chest as he watches you drip before him.

“I-”

You scream.

He’d angled the toy upwards, and somehow within the small bundle of nerves he’s targeted an even more precise cluster of endings - there’s a flash of white you see before you cum practically violently, lurching forward so rapidly that he has to keep the chair steady so that you won’t fall over on the pretty little face he adores.

It’s possibly the fourth time he’s had to ground you in the past hour, and it’s an act of mercy because he had been edging you repeatedly, forcing your pussy to clench desperately around nothing but air.

The way you gush and spray so lewdly onto the chair, onto the floor, onto the hand he plays on your sopping wet pussy reminds him he chose very, very well.

---

It’s nearly silent and it’s dark now, far too dark for you to see.

Your Koushi has prepared you for this next step lovingly, sometimes not so lovingly over the past couple of weeks to build up to this.

The blindfold that obscures your vision is soft and slightly sweet smelling, as though spritzed with a floral scent about a day ago prior to this. Again your hands are bound, but he’s used lined handcuffs instead of ties, and your wrists are before you, not behind you.

But you’re lying on your belly, a spreader forcing your thighs apart. He must really love the way your pussy looks staring him in the face.

“You seem to be a glutton for punishment, princess,” he says, accenting his words with a hard slap on your inner thigh. You gasp, but his hands linger tighten, and are then followed by what can only be the press of his tongue against the stinging portion.

“Daddy, I’ll behave, I’m so sorry,” you moan as his hand grips a generous portion of your asscheek.

But you won’t behave, because you’ve learned that Suga likes just a touch of bratty behavior and that gets him quite physical with you. He knows this just as much as you.

He slaps your ass fervently, the slight jiggle drawing a pleased sigh from his lips.

“You’re a silly little slut, though…” he starts, rubbing a hand along the length of your thigh, “how can I trust any of your promises?”

His finger travels to your open center, and when he sees you tense up, he stops.

“You need a firm hand to guide you always…”

His right hand curves again around your cunt and his middle and ring finger finds its way into your slippery hole, while his index taps your clit and his little finger (he’s dexterous like this), taps ever so lightly around your asshole.

You shudder.

“Arch your back, you little cumslut. Make it easy for daddy.”

As you inch backwards slowly using your elbows and knees to rise up, his right hand continues to move with you, but then his other hand lands heavily on your other asscheek.

It breaks your concentration and you almost fall because it takes quite a lot more energy than you would expect to move this way with your hands bound and your legs spread, but you persevere.

For him.

Before you can whine once you’ve gotten into position, he withdraws his hand from your cunt.

“No!” You find yourself shrieking before you realize. You can’t have him edge you again, he’s absolutely cruel, you can’t…

“Oh, I thought I called the shots here, princess,” Sugawara reminds you, voice honeyed and cruel. You can feel his fingers weave into your hair and the warm tip of what must be his cock prod at your entrance.

“Sir, please~”

“Beg.”

He spreads you open with a hand massaging your ass, again tapping teasingly all around your vagina, but he won’t push in to give you the pleasure of having his cock inside you.

Your heart is pounding with desire.

“Please!”

“Please what?”

“Please fill me up, daddy!”

That statement of desire earns you an inch, an inch that makes you swallow saliva hard and your muscles tense with need and want.

“M-more, more please!”

“You’re so demanding. I would say your eyes are bigger than your pretty little pussy, but you can’t see, can you?”

He laughs, but he pushes in further another inch, than another, moving painstakingly slow, slow enough that you’re biting your lower lip until blood is drawn. The stretch is achingly delicious but it leaves you starved for more.

You’re begging and whining, and soon you’re trying your best to sink onto him further but he’s got you restrained for a reason.

“Greedy little bitch,” he murmurs, but he kisses your neck lovingly as he fills you to the hilt.

The unmistakable noise of flesh hitting flesh and minimal friction fills the room but you care less about sound, only about the slap of his balls against your cunt as he thrusts into you from behind.

More. Deeper. Faster. Harder.

He’s a master at drawing desire out of you, you wonder if you even needed these toys and ties and other accoutrements. You’re already so utterly wrapped for him.

---

There’s a movie playing on your screen that you had both been pretending to watch, cuddled together on the couch, your legs resting across his lap. You had barely gotten through the opening credits before he pulled you onto him fully and had you straddle him.

“You want a snack, pretty baby?” He whispers, as though it weren’t just the two of you staring in each other’s eyes.

Your eyelashes bat and you nod.

He doesn’t break eye contact while he reaches for a strawberry, fresh from the farmer’s market you’d strolled through this morning, from a bowl set on the table.

This one is drizzled in chocolate, and he runs it along the length of your collarbone, eye contact still heavy and unflinching before he dips down to catch it in his mouth.

It hangs out halfway from his teeth and he cues you to take it from him mouth to mouth. You split half of it, letting the sweet tartness permeate your senses.

His arm hooks around your waist and pulls you in close as he presses his lips against yours. You weren’t aware of the glob of strawberry-flavored saliva he’d collected until he draws away, tilts your head back and tells you to open up wide so he can spit directly into your mouth.

---

“Swallow.”

Suga’s relentlessly pounding an erect, frustrated and thick cock into your mouth, past your teeth and down your poor throat, and he’s close to his release now, you can tell by the way he’s now pressed your face so far against him that his carefully cropped pubes prick your face.

He’s warning you beforehand, and you’re thankful for the warning because when he cums with a soft, almost angelic moan, his penis jerks inside your mouth ever so slightly, and there’s a gush of hot, slippery liquid that slides down your throat.

You breathe through your nose. He tastes sweet, maybe it’s because of the strawberries from just earlier today, but nevertheless it’s a pleasant liquid you gulp down around his cock.

He loves the way your throat feels when it clamps around him, especially when you initially gag once accepting his cock.

You’re perfect.

“Come up, darling,” he bids you, pulling you up from your position on your knees.

“Are you gonna fill me up, daddy?” You mewl softly as he lifts up and carries you before laying you on your back.

“Yes, pretty baby, but let me taste your juicy little cunt first,” he says before he dives in between your legs.

---

“You’re so good for me, you know that, don’t you?”

He kisses your neck softly as he holds you close to him while you lay in bed together. It’s close to 1am and he��s focused on aftercare, caressing your arms and waist and the curve of your hip gently. You’re facing away from him, not because you’re upset, but because you’re exhausted.

He’s worried you’re having a sub-drop; after all, he’s spent the last two hours slapping your face and calling you disgusting. He wonders if you forgot to use your safe word.

You’re new to this and he’s put you through a lot in the past few weeks.

“Sweetness,” he whispers, directly into your ear. “Look at me?”

You turn, cheeks still flushed from particularly hard slaps. His heart aches a bit for you, because those sweet lips are pulled downwards into a frown and he’s not sure if those are fresh tears that wet your eyelashes.

He kisses your eyelids then rests his chin on the top of your head.

“Are you doing okay, my princess?”

You nod and reach for his face with your fingertips. Your dom softens under your touch because you are so precious to him. His fingers close around yours and he kisses your forehead.

“The most important thing is your comfort,” he asserts. He taps the collar around your neck that suggests in some way that you are his and he is yours. “You can take this off at any time.”

You wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face into his chest. It’s been fun and it’s also been freeing to have him take care of you. There’s a soft haze that wafts around your brain lately as you surrender to him. You are in love with him, deeply, in such a short amount of time.

“I would never,” you say, finally.

His heart skips a beat.

“Unless you want to buy me a nicer one, of course.”

He chuckles.

“You’re a feisty little one, aren’t you?” He remarks. He’s glad to look down at you and see you smiling again, eyes bright and brown. He reaches for your ass cheek, then raises your leg so that it lies across his hip.

Your eyes twinkle with mischief.

“Well, that’s why you picked me to teach, isn’t it?” You raise an eyebrow, and the cheeky grin on your face is enough to make him get absolutely hard again.

Of course, only if you’re up to the task.

Suga bites gently on your lip again, his hand on your thigh.

“I didn’t expect you to learn so quickly.”

“Maybe you really do have the gift of teaching,” you reply, as you stick your tongue into his mouth.

#sugawara x reader #suga x reader #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara smut #haikyuu smut #fic: good teacher #not sfw #commission work #mae.writing #hqintheclub

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acourtofbookishdreams · 3 years

Text

Azriel ~ Irresistable*

Azriel x Reader

* = NSFW. EXPLICIT CONTENT.

Summary: Whilst training with Azriel, you make one too many ‘innocent’ mistakes and his resolve wavers with each one until he can’t take it anymore.

Warning: NSFW, forbidden romance, teasing, shitty writing with no sense, out of character azriel, piece of crap - posting anyway aha

Word Count: 2539

"You need to tighten your core" Azriel instructs, voice soft and unjudgemental but aggravating nonetheless.

"I am tightening" I grit from between my teeth, working with all my waning strength on moving along the balance beam.

Azriel and I had been training only for a couple of weeks now after I'd finally decided I wanted to learn how to defend myself or at least be able to hold my own until I could get to safety. However, my insipid mortal reflexes and strength was making it insanely difficult to learn anything.

Considering my being the remaining mortal sister of the Archerons after thankfully being on a short trip to see a friend at the time my other sisters had been kidnapped and turned, it seemed like an even better idea. Especially to my overprotective older sisters. Sometimes, being the only human around definitely sucked and others, like when my sisters got roped into Fae bullshit...it definitely didn't.

It did really suck I wouldn't find a mate, though. That sounded incredibly...convenient.

"You may think you're engaging your core but you're not" Azriel says, moving slightly closer, his shadows surrounding him in the soft dawn light.

"You know what, if this is so easy then-ah!" I squeal as I fall off the beam, stumbling slightly and gripping the beams surface to keep from slipping as my feet land hard on the floor, ground shock reverberating up my legs, "Ugh, this sucks!"

Azriel chuckles softly, "You'll get it."

"It doesn't feel like it" I grumble

Azriel comes up behind me, placing one large hand across my stomach, pushing against it softly, "You need to act as if you're sucking in your stomach, belly button to spine."

I do exactly that, my stomach concaving in, forcing his hand to slip from my stomach and back to his side and Azriel laughs - a big, joyful chuckle, the loudest I'd ever heard from him.

"Was that a laugh?" I smirk, quirking one eyebrow

"I do laugh, you know."

"Not often...and not around me."

"Focus. We're not here to discuss my social habits. Now, I meant internally. It may sound strange but visualise it in your mind and then pull your stomach in and hold it. You'll feel it."

My smirk slips and I nod, focusing. I do as he instructs and though he is right, it does feel strange, I definitely feel it in my stomach, an odd and uncomfortable tightening sensation as if my stomach was benching a weight.

"Ow" I pout, releasing my stomach, "I don't like that"

"You'll get used to it" Azriel smiles, "Now, come on, back up on the beam and try again"

"Will you catch me if I fall?" I tease, my smirk returning. Though he may be over 200 years older than me, strictly off limits because of his being a completely different and dangerous race from me and completely emotionally unavailable, it didn't mean I couldn't flirt.

"Of course" Azriel responds, tone all business. I roll my eyes slightly as I hop back up onto the beam, one foot in front of the other.

Squeezing my eyes slightly against the pressure, I perform my weird suck-in thing to engage my core, taking a tentative step forward...and finding it suddenly way easier. Gaining confidence, I take another step forward, and then another, each one coming faster and faster until...

"I did it!" I giggle, reaching the opposite end of the beam and jumping off, "I actually did it."

"Well done" Azriel commends, his ice-hewn face slightly broken by a small smile, "Next beam"

"Already?" I gulp, looking over my shoulder. The next beam was higher up then the first, the top of it reaching my chest. I turn back to him, gesturing to the lower one, "Can't I just do this one again?"

Azriel says nothing and I sigh, moving over to the other beam and grabbing a couple step blocks to get up to the beam. Heaving myself up and onto the beam, I wobble softly and a small, startled squeak escapes my lips before I regain my balance.

"You really will catch me, right?" I ask nervously. Again, no response omits from his lips, just a short nod of which I couldn't tell was either actually in answer to my question or instruction to get a move on.

"Okay" I breathe, closing my eyes and stilling my body completely, performing the process of engaging my core slowly, each muscle at a time until I felt so tightly wound even a sharp shove couldn't knock me from my feet.

I take a step forward...then another...and then I slip.

My foot hits the side of the beam wrong and in an effort to stay up, I attempt to pull it back on rather than letting it go and placing it behind my other foot, bending at the knees as I was taught to do and had done many times on the lower beam. I scream and squeeze my eyes shut tightly as I tip backward, flailing my arms out as my back heads for the ground.

As if in slow motion, I turn my body as I fall, instinctively positioning to catch my fall with my hands - a rookie mistake. A pair of strong hands encircles my waist as I turn and without thinking I grab onto him, securing my body to his in every way possible to stop my fall. I grunt as one of my feet lands hard on the floor, ground shock again erupting through...one of my feet?

I open my eyes and find myself in the strangest position...Azriel's face was before me, his arm hooked underneath the crook of my right knee, holding the one leg up whilst the other was placed upon the floor as normal, my hips pressed against his.

"You really did fall in the most difficult way possible" Azriel says, voice deep and gravelly...as if straining.

It's then I notice Azriel's stance is crooked, his weight tipped to one side slightly as if weighed down...I gasp and almost send myself flying again as I realise what exactly I'd done in my attempt to escape a painful landing.

My knee was grazing his right wing, my left arm tightly wrapped around his neck with my elbow brushing the inside of his left wing and my right hand was placed entirely on the soft membrane of the inside of his right wing, my fingers splayed across the shimmering surface and pressing lightly onto it, the way one would place their hand on a surface to maintain balance.

Points of contact everywhere with Azriel's wings...Azriel's sensitive wings.

"Oh my...I'm so sorry" I gasp, pulling my leg out of his grasp and removing my arm from his neck, my hand from his wing, until I was standing before him. Closer than I'd ever been before, his eyes boring into mine.

"You couldn't have just fallen backward?" Azriel says, his voice still rough and strained, "I would've caught you."

"I know, I-" I stammer, "I didn't think, I just acted on instinct. I don't know what I was thinking. Are your wings okay?"

"They're fine" Azriel frowns softly, "Why wouldn't they be?"

"Feyre's told me before to be careful of your wings, to make sure I keep away from them because they're really sensitive...are they not?" I redirect as his confused frown deepens.

"They are but not in the way you seem to think" Azriel explains, "It doesn't cause me pain, which by the look on your face, I assume is what you think."

"It's not painful?" I breathe a sigh of relief, "Oh thank the forgotten gods...but if it's not a painful sensitivity, why do you seem so tense? Well, tenser."

"While it's not painful, it is still sensitive. The sensation is hard to explain but it just provokes a different...reaction."

"What do you mean?"

"It's too hard to explain. How about I show you the approximation of what it feels like to a non-winged being and then you tell me the reaction you have."

I nod, a little nervous about the slight gleam in Azriel's eyes, a knowing one...

Leaning forward, Azriel breathes softly into the shell of my ear, lips trailing sensually along the outer edge as his large hand ghosts down my spine in soft, light movements, his fingers barely touching the skin but sending shivers all the way through my body. My eyes go heavy lidded and instinctively, I grip his bicep to hold myself steady, neck tipping back slightly to expose more of my neck as his breath gusts over the sensitive skin, his hand coming to rest on the small of my back to keep me from falling on my ass. A small noise escapes from my throat.

In a lighting fast move, Azriel pulls me to rights and releases me completely, stepping a good few paces back. Breathing heavily, my eyes open and meet his and I imagine our expressions to be almost exact. Flushed cheeks, glazed eyes, chests rising and falling so agonisingly slowly as we attempt to keep our breathing even and failing completely.

"Woah" I breathe, "I definitely get it now."

"You can't do that, Y/N, damn it!" Azriel growls and I straighten further, lust filled haze vanishing.

"Do what?" I gape

"Make me-" Azriel says and then stops himself, "Never mind. Today's session is over"

He turns on his heel to leave but I run after him, meaning to grab his shoulder...and accidentally gracing the back of his wing again.

Damn it, dumbass.

Azriel releases a frustrated growl and whirls on me, pushing me back into a nearby wall, his hands on my waist, eyes staring into mine.

"That"

I was still confused. This was the only time I'd ever touched his wings...

Seeing my confused expression, Azriel presses closer, his body pressed to mine, something hard pressing into my-

Oh.

"I...I wasn't aware I" I stumble over my words, "I wasn't aware it was something I'd done more than once."

"That's a lie and you know it" Azriel huffs, "Stop feigning innocence."

"I'm not feigning anything!" I protest. I truly hadn't meant to turn him on. Now or any other time. Feyre and Nesta and Elain had all made it clear I shouldn't get into it with Azriel...Gods, even Rhys had told me to keep away!, "Why does it even matter? We're both adults, we can just move on from-"

"You don't get it, do you?" Azriel growls, "That I've wanted you every moment from when I first saw you, that Feyre and Rhys gave me this lecture about duty and responsibility and the different race bullshit and ordered me to stay away from you. The only reason I was allowed to train you is because I swore it'd be training and nothing more!"

"I'm...I don't know what to say to you except that I didn't know anything about any of that."

"I swear you're my own personal hell on Earth." Azriel sighs, shaking his head, eyes hard and cold as flint.

"Wow, thanks" I scoff sarcastically, offended, "I wasn't doing anything intentionally."

"That may be even worse" Azriel concedes, "Knowing that anything you did wasn't intentional means if you truly tried to make a move...I would fall at your feet and beg you for just a second of your time. For one moment between-I shouldn't be entertaining this idea."

No, please go on.

"It doesn't help that I can smell you every time you enter a room. It's like you specifically-"

"Wow, so now I smell?" I huff, "Perfect."

"Not that kind of smell. I can smell it on you now."

It?

Well, sure, I was sweaty but I'd just been working out. Although I'd cooled a bit now, with all the slow and steady lust-filled contact we'd had-

Oh...again.

I remember Nesta telling me once to be careful with any time I spent...with myself because the males could smell...

Could smell arousal.

"Oh" I say aloud this time, "That."

"I could swear you would touch yourself before each training session just to drive me insane with what I can't have-damn it, stop it!"

"Well I can't really help my body's reactions when you talk like that" I defend, that warm and tight feeling in my stomach building, eyelids fighting not to fall.

"Try" Azriel suggests weakly.

"If the past few weeks of my unintentional seducing you wasn't proof enough, I clearly can't do that."

"What has been with you recently? You're aroused all the time."

"I don't know" I blush, "I just...have been. Besides, it's not like I have someone I can go to here to...relieve myself of the frustration so I'm all I've got."

Azriel's jaw clenches, eyes ablaze with a hungry fire.

"Why can't we...I mean, why am I so forbidden to you?"

"Feyre and Rhys say...well, I don't know. It doesn't matter about their reasons, their my High Lord and Lady. If they order me to do something, I obey."

"Is that something you can't fight?" I ask, eyes trailing up and down his body, "Like a magical side effect stops you?"

"No, it's an honour thing-" Azriel stops short, recognising my intention, "Okay, I know you're doing this on purpose now"

"So what?" I whisper, "It's not like I'll tell them anything...and there's no one out here to witness for at least a few hours."

"Hours?" Azriel chuckles, "What makes you think you can handle that?"

Cocky now, huh?

"I'm almost certain I probably can't...but I'm more than willing to try."

Azriel's erection grows larger, pressing insistently upon my upper thigh, "Y/N...I can't"

"Yes you can" I say, "Something tells me you're just as good at getting in your own way as Feyre and Rhys are. I'm more than capable of making my own decisions and I would be lying if I said this isn't one of the fantasies I've used to help me out when I'm alone."

The sound of Azriel's teeth grinding against each other makes me smile. I don't know where this sudden confidence came from - perhaps from knowing how badly he also wants this. Maybe it was fate's way of making something that was always supposed to happen, happen. By removing my nervousness and forcing Azriel to think his way out of his own mental purgatories.

Azriel, still fighting his own mental battle, pants softly and I lean forward, trailing a long line up his neck and along his jawline with my tongue. My hand drifts up, reaching for the tender inside of his wing-

"Don't. Do. That" Azriel grits out, hand gripping my wrist and pushing it back against the wall, up above my head, the other arm quickly following, "Don't start something you can't finish."

"Who said I wasn't planning to finish?" I smirk

"Gods, you'll be the death of me" Azriel sighs, leaning closer to me. I could already tell the battle was lost, he was just clinging to the last scraps of will he had left.

"What was that you said earlier? That you would 'fall at my feet and beg for just one moment between...' What were you going to say?" I tease

"Shut the fuck up" Azriel growls, his lips pressing to mine.

Masterlist

#azriel imagine #azriel acotar #azriel blurb #azriel x reader #azriel imagines #azriel blurbs #azriel one shot #azriel one shots #azriel x reader smut #azriel smut

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