#and cause as much pain and discomfort as possible | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

remlionheart · 3 months

Text

“You came.”

“You called.”

✧˚ · .MDNI 18+✧˚ · .

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ WHEWWWW. I had no idea when I first started writing this just how much it was going to suck me in. Sweet/toxic!Megumi had my brain doing fuckin' wheelies. All characters are aged up. 21+. Fem!reader x Megumi. AU where Megumi was raised by Toji and is navigating adulthood while still carrying around those old parental wounds. Hurt comfort / angst / smut. porn with a plot. praise kink girlies, this is for you. 3.6k words. super proud of this, lemme know whatcha think. luv you <3 ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

It’d been 4 months since the last time Megumi had seen you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He’d woken up in what used to be your apartment with the taste of liquor from the night before still lingering on his tongue and unwanted snippets of your latest fight still ringing in his ears. He rolled over to see you curled up on your side, as far away from him as you could possibly get while still sharing the same bed. He ran a hand over his face, regret and nausea churning in his stomach while more flashbacks of the argument that had caused the divide between you smashed through his mind.

His footsteps were heavy as he made his way into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He turned the water up as hot as it would go before stripping out of his boxers. He wanted to sweat out the guilt he felt. Wanted to burn away the insults you’d both thrown at each other. Wanted to focus on anything else besides the way he’d made you cry.

He winced when the water made contact with his skin. It was scalding, fanning across his back with vengeance. But it was vengeance that he felt he deserved.

“Why?” His eyes closed, remembering how hard you were trying to keep yourself together despite the obvious pain that was plaguing your small body. The way your lip had quivered and the way your arms had protectively wrapped around your stomach when you looked up at him. “Why can’t you ever just tell me what’s going on with you?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to.

God, he wanted to. To open up. To tell you all of the fucked-up things that went on in his head. To voice his insecurities so that maybe they’d finally stop repeating on the same never-ending loop that they had been stuck on his whole life. To tell you that he didn’t think he was enough. To tell you that he was scared to lose you. That it was something he thought about nearly every day.

But it wasn’t that easy. He was only capable of doing what he knew, and he had absolutely no fucking idea how to deal with his own vulnerability. Let alone express it in a way that wasn't damaging to both of you.

Being raised by Toji had been like taking a master class in emotional avoidance and Megumi was very much his father’s prodigy.

He knew how to argue. He knew how to deflect. He knew how to win a fight. He knew how to manipulate a conversation so that he never had to say more than he wanted to. And he didn’t just know how to do these things, he excelled at them.

It was why he had always been so reserved. It was why he’d beat up all those kids in middle school just for looking at him. It was why at 21, rather than saying “I’m sorry” to resolve an ongoing issue with his girlfriend, he’d opted for, “Then fucking leave" instead.

He stepped out of the shower with red welts decorating his back and sweat dripping down his face. He wiped the steam away from the mirror to reveal blood-shot eyes as he wrapped a towel around his waist. His midnight hair was unusually straight and flat, pressed loosely against his forehead.

He let out an exhale, trading in his introspection for detachment when he heard the bathroom door open.

You observed him quietly, noting his reddened skin and his apparent discomfort at seeing you.

Your head tilted slightly, looking over his clenched jaw and the way his shoulders never truly relaxed. It hurt to see him and it hurt even worse to not see him, but as he stared back at you through hooded eyes, you realized that you had wasted so much time searching for softness in a place you’d never find it.

Megumi Fushiguro was beautifully broken. An intricate stained-glass mural that had been shattered by undeserving hands. Mesmerizing to look at but much too rigid to touch. And though he shined perfectly in the right lighting, your mangled fingertips were begging you to finally put the pieces down.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing...” You shook your head, taking in his sharp edges for what you assumed would be the last time. “You just look like him… that’s all.”

His chest tightened, a rare, visible crack forming in his usual cold demeanor as he stared back at you. He’d been able to avoid everything he didn’t want to deal with in life, everything – until he met you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A pint of whiskey loomed back at him from his nightstand as he ran a hand through his spiked hair, lethargically watching the ceiling fan spin above him.

His vision was hazy, his body tired from training all day. He wanted to sleep. Wanted to close his eyes and drift off for a few hours, but he knew his mind wasn’t going to grant him that mercy.

So, he drank.

Light rain tapped against his window as he held the bottle to his lips, letting a comforting burn travel down his throat while he pulled his phone out from under his pillow.

You had become a ghost in his life after that morning. A memory that he kept buried so far down, he’d almost partially convinced himself that you were actually gone. You were a late-night whisper that he’d ignore. A song on the radio that he’d immediately turn off. A stabbing, fleeting thought he’d learned to block out on his way home from work.

He had given up going to his favorite restaurants and shops in fear that you might be there. He had cut all ties with Nobara since you guys were so close, not wanting to hear anything about you. He had isolated himself to work and his apartment, not allowing himself the chance to accidentally bump into you.

He’d taken so many precautions. Did everything he possibly could to not see you. And yet, he was gradually starting to realize that maybe it’d all been in vain. That even with how much his life had changed, he was still somehow doing the exact same thing he’d done when he was with you.

After all this time, he was still running.

With one last swig, he finished off his pint and grabbed his phone again, not allotting himself enough time to backpedal.

Dialing your number was like muscle memory even with how long it'd been since he'd done it. He wasn't sure what he was going to say if you answered. He definitely wasn't sure what he was going to say tomorrow if you didn't answer. All he knew was that he was finally done avoiding you.

“Megumi…?” your voice was warm, familiar, static against his ear.

“You’re up late.”

There was a pause followed by a reluctant, “Yeah… so are you.”

He mentally kicked himself as an unsure silence settled between the two of you. He had so many things he needed to say but quickly realized that he couldn’t say any of them now that he was here.

His feelings were heavy and important and way too repressed to be spilled out over a late-night phone call. “I know it’s raining, and whatever but…” He cleared his throat. “Are you busy…?”

“Right now?” He couldn’t help but smirk at your snarky, half-hearted laugh. “I mean, it’s 1:30 in the morning. So, no. Not really.”

“Good. Come over.”

“Wait a minute, you can’t just –”

But he already had.

He ended the call, abruptly cutting off your flimsy attempt at protesting him before sending you a text with his address and standing up to dig a black t-shirt out of his closet.

His apartment was damn near spotless aside from some empty whiskey bottles littering his nightstand, but he still made compulsive laps back and forth from his bedroom to his kitchen as he threw them away and cracked a couple of windows open to let some fresh air in. It was an odd feeling, knowing that you were going to be standing in the one place that didn’t remind him of you.

He checked his phone while heading into the bathroom. You hadn't said anything, but he knew you well enough to know that you were probably only minutes away by now.

He ran contemplative fingers through his hair, making sure each spike was pointed and curled up to his satisfaction. He hated to admit it, but your words had been haunting his reflection since the morning they left your mouth. He had become painfully aware of how much his eyes, his mannerisms, his facial structure all resembled the man he didn't want to become.

His past may have already been accounted for but as he heard the knock at his front door, he finally began to see something different in the mirror that once taunted him. He watched his stare soften and his shoulders loosen. He noted how much tension his body had let go of at just the thought of you. He was about to let his guard down in the biggest way possible and instead of having a visceral reaction, he felt ready.

With one last glance at himself, he let out a decisive breath and headed down the hall. The future was in his hands and even if he did have his father's features, he knew his grasp was much steadier.

You were in an oversized grey hoodie with your hair thrown into a loose side-bun, your shorts just barely visible and your skin damp from the rain.

Neither one of you said anything, both too busy studying the person in front of you to bother with words. Your eyes trailed over him with warranted skepticism, an internal battle between logic and emotion arising the longer you looked at him.

He could see it; he could feel it - the way you wanted to trust him but couldn't.

"You came." he finally said, his voice gentler than you remembered it being.

You shrugged, almost embarrassed by your own honesty.

"You called."

The two of you exchanged the same somber smile before he nodded for you to follow him.

The smell of his cologne mixed with spring air swirled around you as you walked into his room. His walls were covered in art - framed line work, oil paintings, black and grey portraits. Everything was strategically placed and organized. His bed made neatly with white sheets and a black duvet. It was all very him.

He leaned against the wall in front of you as you took a seat on the edge of his mattress.

“How’ve you been?”

It should've been an easy question and under different circumstances, it probably would've been.

But it was late and you were on his bed and he looked beautiful and you wished he didn't and the weight of the situation was suddenly hitting you all at once.

“I've been alright.” You lied, repositioning yourself. "Just busy with classes and stuff. What about you...?"

He watched the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shorts. The way you shifted your weight as you dangled one leg off of the bed and held the other against your chest.

“Quit.”

You paused, your gaze reluctantly returning to his. “Quit what?”

“Being nervous.” He pushed himself away from the wall and sat down next to you, heeding his own advice. “I just have some stuff I need to say, that's all."

You gave him a slow nod, letting go of the loose piece of thread.

His legs were spread slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs and his chin in his hands as he looked over at you. "You were right."

He had officially gained your attention with that one simple admission.

"I do need to open up more, it's just -" He took a breath, determination flickering through his eyes. "It's just fucking hard, you know? But that's not an excuse. I'm sorry. Truly. I'm sorry for everything I did to you while we were together. I should've said it the last time I saw you. I should've said it months before that. I should've just said it at least a hundred times. But I didn't, so I'm saying it now." His hand was warm as he carefully reached for yours. "I shouldn't have shut you out like I did. You're... the one person I never wanted to push away... I love you."

It felt as though all of the oxygen had been stripped from the room, your heart forgetting how to beat while you looked back at him in awe. Your thoughts were everywhere. The war of logic versus emotion still violently raging on.

His fingers laced into yours and you let them. His grasp felt safe and secure. His eyes were full of a sense of patience and vulnerability that you didn't think you'd ever seen before.

"Don't let him do this to you again." Nobara had warned you on your drive over here. "He might care about you. Hell, he might even really love you, but he doesn't know how and you can't keep making that your problem over and over again. It's not fair."

"Look..." Your breathing was uneven, your voice giving away your internal struggle no matter how hard you tried to conceal it. "I forgive you, but we... can't. I mean, we can't just keep doing this over and over. It's... not fair." It had held so much more conviction when it came from your best friend, but it was the best you could manage.

His hand disappeared from yours, wandering up to your cheek to catch tears that you didn't even realize had fallen. "Okay..." he conceded.

His tone was despondent, but his touch was soft. Light fingertips glided along your jawline, his face only centimeters apart from yours. "Then we won't."

"We won't." You repeated back to him, trying desperately to ignore the way his exhale fanned felicitously across your lips.

"Because..." You swallowed hard, watching his gaze drift carefully across your face. "We shouldn't."

He shook his head in agreement. "Absolutely shouldn't." He whispered, his hand trailing up to the back of your neck.

"And..." Emotion was putting up the fight of its life, your pupils widening as you stared back at him. "I deserve better."

"So much better." he echoed, leaning in closer, his mouth just barely grazing yours. "You deserve the fucking world."

Your body was betraying every bit of your sentiment, your breath hitching in your throat while his fingers tangled into your hair. "Megumi... you can't..."

"I'm not." his voice was like honey, his lips still ghosting yours. "All you have to do is pull away." His other hand began to slide delicately up your thigh, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. "Pull away and I'll walk you back to your car. We'll act like none of this ever happened."

"Megumi, please." It was a whimper. A pathetic plea that held no real merit. You weren't sure if you were begging for him to touch you or not touch you.

"I won't call you again. Won't see you again." His nails began to dig into the tenderness your inner thigh, his eyes still locked fiercely with yours. "I'll leave you alone for good this time... That's what you want, right?"

Wetness seeped between your legs as he kept on toying with the opening of your shorts. The warmth of his hand so infuriatingly close to where you wanted it and where it shouldn't be. Your already weak resolve was crumbling.

"Tell me to stop."

His forehead pressed against yours, opposite hand still holding your neck in place. "Tell me." He tried again, but all of your words had been stolen by the feeling of his palm roaming up towards your center.

With only a thin layer of fabric separating his fingers from you, he slowly began to spread you apart. If he hadn't been able to see your desperation before, he could certainly feel it now.

He watched every last bit of composure you had vanish as he started to draw soft, heavenly circles around your clit. Drowning in the little yelps and whines that you were trying so hard to bite back.

"Tell me to fucking stop."

There was suddenly no logic left in your brain. No one in control. No way to fight the way he was making you feel. You were a needy, pining mess and your body was practically groveling for him.

You finally let your lips catch his, shamelessly moaning against him while his grip tightened in your hair. "Don't -" You let out between heady breaths. "Don't stop. Please don't ever stop."

You were lost somewhere between his feral ocean eyes and the way his tongue swirled around yours.

He pulled the fabric to the side, plunging two unexpected fingers inside of you, smirking at the surprised squeal it'd gained him.

"Oh, that's my girl." He groaned, watching your eyes double in size.

Your walls were swallowing him, clenching around him shamelessly while more uncontrollable noises filled the room.

His thumb brushed against your clit, rubbing back and forth with precision as his fingers continued to slam into you. The three of them working together in perfect synchronicity. "There you go, that’s it.”

It had been so long. You knew it wouldn't take much, but you still felt pathetic when you realized you were already there. "Megumi- 'm -"

It almost caught both of you off guard how little it took. Your eyes snapped shut, your bottom lip lodged between your teeth as you soaked him. Your hips were thrusting, your pussy unapologetically dripping all over his hand while you mewled and writhed against him.

"Poor thing. Has it really been that long?"

It was somehow sweet, the way he mocked you.

His movements became more urgent, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to your feet so that he could help you out of your clothes. Your hoodie went first, your nipples hardening as you stood in front of him.

"So fucking pretty." He praised, still sitting on the edge of the bed. His hands were warm against your waist, tugging off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, admiring the shiny slick glistening off of your cunt.

He took a moment to look you over, quietly memorizing every inch before his own pants were tossed aside.

Your legs straddled him as he guided you on top of him, his hands placed firmly on your hips. You drew in a shallow breath, watching him rub his tip against you, wetting himself with your cum before lining his cock up with your entrance.

You slowly lowered yourself onto him, basking in that familiar, heavenly stretch he always provided you with.

“Fuuuck.”

You weren’t sure which one of you had said it, too drunk off of the way he filled you to care.

His hands were still guiding you. Uppp and dowwwnnn, not quite letting you take the full thing just yet but still giving you plenty to keep you satisfied.

You watched his reaction to the way you rode him, smiled when you noticed his eyes starting to roll back. You were grinding against him, drawing out the prettiest sounds from him with your hands clasped behind his neck.

“You’re s’fucking…” he grunted, his words suddenly harder to get out. “tight… Jesus Christ, baby. You really didn’t fuck anyone else for 4 months, did you?”

It wasn’t like you had been trying to hide it, but it was still irritating that your body sold you out before you even had the chance to have that conversation with him.

You shook your head sheepishly, a faint warmth decorating your cheeks. “Didn’t -” he was pulling you down further this time, purposefully going deeper as he watched you struggle to form a proper setence. “Didn’t - want… t- to…”

“Didn’t want anyone else inside of you, huh?” His tone was breathy, condescending almost as he continued to maneuver you to his liking. “Didn’t want anyone else to fill up this tight fucking cunt besides me, is that it baby?”

You shook your head again, this time a bit more feverishly while he continued to force your weight down onto him. Your ass now smacking against his thighs with each pump into you.

“I -” you moaned, unable to hold it together the further down you went. “I just want you. O - only you.”

He kissed you, his tongue gently parting your lips as he slowly eased you down onto his length. “I love you.” He whispered.

You tried to say it back but it was lost entirely by the way he thrusted upward without warning and slammed every last blissful inch of himself into you.

Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix. You were a dizzy, pouty, leaky mess, looking at him with stars in your eyes as he smirked back at you. "You’re okay, baby. You can take it.”

He had you tilted at just the right angle, lined up beautifully with your g-spot. You were taking in all you could, hips hungrily rocking back and forth against him.

"You're doing so good. Just like that."

You were practically delirious, already teetering on the verge of climax when his thumb found your clit again, creating more featherlight circles and more delicious, hopeless yelps from you.

"Megumi," his name practically echoed across the room, your walls starting to smother him. "I - fuck, baby ‘m -" You tried to bury your face into his shoulder, but he wouldn't let you. His free hand was quickly under your chin, forcing your attention back on him.

"Look at me." his voice was low but thoughtful, his fingers still working relentlessly against you. "Let me fucking see it."

It was enough to break you. To have you suddenly spasming around him as you soaked him. He didn’t stop though no matter how much you squirmed against him. No matter how incredibly loud your cries became. He continued to stretch you, bullying himself into you while still teasing your clit until you were both absolutely shaking.

His lips crashed into yours, hand tangled back into your hair when you felt him start to twitch inside you, filling you up as he groaned against your mouth.

“I love you.” You whispered this time, earning an exhausted smile from him.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, admiring the mess he’d made out of you before kissing you again, lavishly this time as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

It was all so natural, so right. As if no time had passed at all between you two. And maybe you were biased because of where you were currently sitting, but his once rough edges looked pretty smooth from this angle.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

#jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #jjk x reader #jjk smut #fushiguro megumi #jjk megumi #megumi smut #megumi x angst #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi smut #jjk x you #toxic!megmi #jjk fanfic

885 notes · View notes

erinfern0 · 4 months

Text

contrasts of intimacy.

simon "ghost" riley x inexperienced!afab!gn!reader

— gender-neutral nicknames, afab anatomy, only pronouns used are you, etc.

summary: you're not very experienced, but you want to try something new, changing things in the bedroom feels like a good idea. All those fantasies of yours, Simon turning rougher, turn you on more and more until he finally agrees.

warnings: inexperienced reader, talk of safe words, use of safe word, manhandling, slight spanking, discomfort, possible sub drop, etc.

a/n: based on this lovely request! I've been away for a while, but I'm so glad to be back here with you, guys!!

Convincing him was difficult, not only were you a little embarrassed to ask for such a lewd thing, but also — he's such a stubborn man. The idea itself was tempting, Simon got so hard just listening to you explaining what you wanted. Shifting his hips on the couch, adjusting his sweats as he just nodded his head.

Pure torture and such a betrayal of your innocent, inexperienced nature to ask for something like this. Not that it was wrong or immoral, as Simon made it clear that he's more than happy to try new things with you. But God did he adore to watch you squirm in your seat, trying to get some coherent sentences out.

His mind was slowly coming back to his senses when you mentioned that you'd like him to do anything seemingly painful, like pulling your hair or spanking you. He just couldn't imagine himself doing something like that to you, immediately thinking about actually hurting you.

You thought he's going to deny you, turning your offer down and never thinking about this again, but he surprised you, holding your hands in his and slowly rubbing your palms with his thumbs.

“We'll have a safe word.” he assured, a smug smirk on his face before he looked up at you. “You'll let me know when's too much, yeah?” his hand slowly rubbed your thigh as he waited for your answer.

“Of course!” you said happily with a stutter, almost falling into his embrace as you tried to hug him. Simon's muscular arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you on his lap, your cunt pleasingly pressing against his crotch. “We can just go with the traffic lights.”

Simon started prepping kisses to your lips the way he always used to, sweetly and slowly before he sped up, easing his hot tongue into your mouth, devouring every little gasp that left your throat.

The contrast of his harsh, sloppy kisses and his hands groping all over your body make you dizzy, mindlessly reaching down to untie the little knot of his sweatpants. Your other hand pulls his hair, grazing your nails over his scalp.

He groaned, pulling on your lower lip while pulling you closer, his hot breath mixing with yours as you ease your way under his pants and boxers, wrapping your fingers around his twitching cock.

You were not really experienced, but Simon made sure to teach you exactly how to make him feel good, so that's exactly what you did. Slow strokes down his shaft, combined with your thumb teasingly rubbing on his slit, made him grow harder in your hold.

Your actions caused his usually soft touches to turn into him sinking his fingers into your hips, guiding you to rub yourself over his clothed thigh and bulge. His kisses followed a path down your neck right before he flipped you, laying your body on the couch, your back and neck pressed into soft pillows.

“Take 'em off.” he demanded, looking down at your shorts before he suckled another hickey into your shoulder. The dark rasp of his voice, hoarse with desire, made your stomach turn in arousal.

You obeyed, pulling your shorts and panties down your legs to throw them on the floor, looking up at him to meet his dark eyes, looking completely black in the light of your living room.

You felt like prey, just waiting to be hunted down and devoured, but that's exactly what you asked from him. That's exactly what you wanted, needed, even.

Simon pushed your legs apart, pulling them closer to your chest so he could watch the way your glistening pussy kept clenching around nothing. His eyelids felt heavy as he played with your folds, pulling them apart just to chuckle at your little squirms and pants.

“This really gets my angel wet, huh?” he asked more to himself as he kept your legs up with one hand. The other left a gentle spank to your pussy, watching your legs shake from the stimulation with a choked-back moan of his name.

He always loved your sounds, not only your voice but also the way your skin rubbed against his, how your hair nuzzled into the bedsheets, and how your juices squealed under his fingers.

But the thing that kept him going the most was the way you kept chanting his name as your nails dug into his forearms. Your soft pleas for him to finally fuck you and not just make sweet love as usual.

“Si, please, please…” you mewled, watching as he pulled his sweats down, his cock pressing right between your folds. Simon slammed his tip over your clit, quiet curses slipped off his tongue as your thighs twitched.

He complied, gently pushing his cockhead into you, working you open to stretch around in such a familiar, breathtaking manner he had to grip the underside of your thighs. Pushing you down just to feel you all over him, your gasps making goosebumps appear all over his back, just where your nails tried to reach.

His fingers deepened their hold on your skin, probably leaving bruises, making you shiver in such a pleasurable sting of his nails making their way through the thin layer of your plush skin.

“Desperate thing.” he groaned, his leaking tip finally reaching your cervix, so deep you felt as if it was pushing right against your brain, making you all dizzy and hazed with pleasure.

Everything was just as you imagined, starting with deep, slow thrusts, pushing all the nice spots that made you see stars, but then Simon quickened his moves. His hands kept your thighs up, knees as close to your chest as possible as he rammed in and out of your slick, clenching hole.

You two lost yourself completely in the feeling of each other's bodies, so different from your usual sex. You've turned into a shaking, panting mess under his form, towering above you, fucking you with such force the whole couch shuddered under you.

As much as you loved it, loved him, your perfect little fantasy became too much. It was perfect until you couldn't breathe as clearly as before. Legs pressed against your chest too much for you to appreciate his filthy words or the mess between your bodies, noises of both pleasure and slick spread around the room.

The pain in your thighs became unmissable, and even when he asked, you tried to stay strong. You were the one to ask him for this, you didn't want him to feel bad for possibly hurting you, just as bad as you didn't want him to stop. So you kept your cool, tears pooling on your eyes that were closed shut, and moans turned more performative than ever.

Simon couldn't miss the changes, though. The way you clenched around his cock made it harder for him to slip back in every time he pulled out. Your grip on his forearms has become harder, leaving marks all over his skin as he slowed his moves again.

“Look at me, love. I need you to look at me.” he murmured under his breath, hand pulling away from your thigh to cup your chin, thumb caressing your dry lips, bringing your attention to him. ”You're okay?”

You shivered, both palms now resting against the couch, too tired to touch him again. You swallowed harshly, nodding your head almost mindlessly, thighs already shivering from how exhausted you got after just a couple of minutes. They hurt, a strange sting running all over your legs caused by being held up for too long,

Breathing deeply, you allowed him to slowly pull out, his palms running calming shapes over your skin, waiting for you to gather your thoughts. His thumb caressed your face, letting you focus on his touch rather than the pain.

Tears started running down your cheeks despite your desperate attempts to stop them. Sobbing underneath him, you closed your eyes, trying to cover your face with your hands, but Simon pulled them away with quiet 'shhs' spilled off his tongue.

“Just say it, it's okay.” he mumbled, the dark browns of his eyes locked on yours, his gaze softening. His hair was messy, slightly over his forehead as he leaned forward, waiting for you.

“Red.” you gasped out, embarrassment filling your voice as you shivered. He kissed your knee right before he helped you relax your legs, placing them flat on the couch for you.

“That's it, sweet thing. Just rest for me, yeah?” he cooed as he stood up, collecting your clothes off the floor and slowly slipping your underwear on your body. Your body melted perfectly the way he wanted, allowing him to pull his bigger shirt over your head, covering you with an addition of a blanket.

Simon kneeled beside the sofa, his fingers pushing stray hairs away from your face. “Too much?” he questioned, nuzzling his nose into your shoulder.

Nodding your head, you smiled weakly, words of an apology coming out of your mouth before you even thought about them. He just looked at you, his jaw clenching. “Nothing to be sorry about. You were so perfect, sweetie. Stopping when you don't feel good anymore shouldn't make you apologize, ever.”

Slowly, you accepted his hand reaching under the blanket to interlock your fingers with his, the reassurance you needed was right there. Sleep tried to take over your body as he hummed into your exposed neck, leaving gentle kisses on the fading marks he had left there before.

“I'll get us something to eat and some tea when you wake up, don't worry about anything.” he added before he sat on the couch right beside your head, pulling it over his sweatpants-covered lap, massaging your scalp just the way you loved the most, letting you rest.

masterlist | request info

#simon riley cod #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod ghost #cod mw2 #cod mwii #gender neutral reader #riri writes

353 notes · View notes

mira-miraaa · 2 years

Text

♡ JJK Men Headcanons ♡

✧ summary: wondering how jjk characters would react to gf getting nipple piercings

✧ content: 18+ MDI, genital/ nipple piercings, sexual thoughts, fem!reader, masturbation, ejaculation, light fluff

✧ note: requests and constructive criticism are appreciated :)

♡ Nanami is the type to call you immediately after you text him you spontaneously pierced your nipples. The man would probably think it was a lie until he heard how serious you sounded. He would intently listen as you told him everything from beginning to end. Since he doesn't have piercings, he would admire your boldness and ask if you were feeling well. Yet, he couldn't help but worry. He assumed you would feel some discomfort. He immediately would go to the store to buy snacks and non-iodized salt for aftercare. Plus, he wanted to see the cute barbells decorating your nipples as soon as possible.

Upon arriving, Nanami's composed demeanor would dissipate. He would try to be a gentleman, but seeing your nipples against your tank was enough to weaken his knees. He would sit to conceal his growing erection, but once you straddled his lap, it would be game over for him. He would carefully remove the fabric from your body, praising your new look. He would place gentle, chaste kisses down the valley between your breasts, careful not to touch the sensitive buds. Despite his growing need, he wouldn't escalate the situation. Instead, he would suggest a movie night, slide your shirt back on, and place one more kiss on your lips.

♡ Suguru would definitely be thrilled. Being a piercing enthusiast, he would tell you how proud he was his baby finally decided to add some accessories. His mind would wander off, imagining his mouth sucking on your nipples, enjoying the taste of silver and your skin on his tongue. He knew he would have to be patient. Had to give your sensitive skin the time to heal, but just thinking about your pretty tits bouncing while he mercilessly fucked you made him hard. His impatience would win over, and he would facetime you, asking if you could show him. The sight of your breasts was better than he imagined. He knew the second they healed, he would show you how much it turned him on.

Soon after, Suguru would start asking what other piercings he should get. Suguru's pain tolerance was unfathomable, so it wouldn't be a surprise once he suggested getting his tongue pierced. The more he spoke, the more possibilities excited him. Finally, he would declare he would get a deep shaft. Of course, he would! He would talk about how good it would feel during sex. No doubt, he would schedule an appointment as soon as possible.

♡ Gojo, no doubt, would show up at your doorstep within twenty minutes. Claiming he was coincidentally nearby and decided to stop by for a short visit. It would be anything but a quick stop. He would shamelessly ask to see, gently cupping your breasts like it was his first time touching a pair of tits. While he admired your exposed body, the only thing infiltrating his mind was getting tit fucked by you. He already loved how his cum coated your neck and the curve of your breasts. Just thinking about his white semen coating your nipples would cause his dick to twitch.

Gojo would want to bend you over and go in raw, but he liked it rough. And considering your precautions to avoid infections or potential tears, Gojo's idea would be tossed out the window. Gojo would try to act nonchalant but eventually would cave in. He would plead to at least receive a handjob while he stared at your tits. To be fair, the poor man would try to contain himself, and his pathetic pleas would be more than enough to convince you.

♡ Toji? God, that man would be over the moon to see his girl and her new body accessory. He would tell you to send him pictures, and upon seeing your pretty body on his screen, he would lick his lips. And although you texted him, he wouldn't be able to touch them just yet; his mind would be racing with dirty thoughts. Toji loved fucking you in every position, but he couldn't wait to have you riding him. He would have the perfect view of your pretty face and jewelry piercing your perked nipples. The thought of you walking around wearing a camisole without a bra muddled his brain. Hell, he would go as far as to jerk off to the images.

Yet, his fist wouldn't satisfy his craving to have you fucking yourself on his dick. He would be frustratingly groaning in his bedroom, back leaning against his headboard, trying to reach his release. But no matter how tight or fast he went, nothing could compare to your tightness. Eventually, he would call you and ask - more like order - you to talk to him. To say his name. At the sound of your sweet words, he would finally come undone. Semen would drip down his shaft, and he would mutter what a waste it was. After all, the only place he liked to cum was inside of you.

tysm for reading <3

m.list

#jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk headcanons #nanami kento #gojo satoru #geto suguru #toji fushiguro #nanami x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #toji x reader #light smut #kento nanami #gojo headcanons #geto headcanons #toji smut #daddy toji

3K notes · View notes

baby-tini · 3 months

Text

M4S

It was quiet… too quiet. The leaky pipe making puddles on the floor. The cold, damp air causes goosebumps to perk up on your arms and the hairs to stand up. Trying to move slightly, you hiss at the sharp cuffs as they bite at your raw wrists, the chair groans as you wriggle around in discomfort. Your thighs numb from not moving around, cracking your neck, you whine at the release of tension. The tight ropes giving you some relief when you inhale but cause you to choke up from the smell of bleach. Your ass is sore from the hard, wooden chair as you attempt to wiggle again, get some of the blood flow back into your legs, stretching them feels to hard as the lack of flow makes them feel heavier.

There's a bang upstairs… like a gun shot, then a harsh, bloody cry. One of pain and agony, it feels close but.. far? You're tired, hungry.. dazed maybe? Were you drugged? No, maybe it's just the lack of oxygen from the stuffy room, cold enough to be a basement.. but not quiet enough to be soundproof. Screaming might work, then again, alerting your.. kidnappers, won't benefit you, not even a little, but it's all you got. Although before you can even inhale the air there's a door that slams open not too far away from where you're tied up. It sounds broken from the sickening crack you hear reverberate off the walls. The stampede of steps sound angry, aggressive, the harsh groan of the steps and ear-splitting squeak of shoes tells you that much.

There's loud yelling in Japanese, then a sharp slap to your face, your head flies left so hard your neck cramps up, causing a dull pain to shoot through you. The whimper in pain is laughed off by the men… men? Maybe two, possibly three but you can't tell for sure. It hurts though, everything hurts, and everything hurts even more when a rough hand grabs a fist-full of your hair and yanks back at the root, causing a scream to rip from your throat, only for a bigger, colder hand to clamp around your throat and squeeze tight. A hand, soft and warm wipes away the sweat from your brow, sliding from your cheek to the fat of your lips and running a thumb? over it, tapping the bottom twice, your jaw dropping for entry, the loose feeling of your jaw is nice, until you feel a cold, hard piece slip between them… a gun. The tip of your tongue meets the trigger and you freeze up, attempting to pull away, only for the hand gripping your hair to pull you forward, making you gag on it. There's bile attacking the back of your throat, trying to force it back with a swallow only makes the gun slide deeper, the metal cutting the corners of your lips as your blindfold is pulled off.

"There's no use in pulling back, angel." A man, more on the shorter side, no taller than 5'5, with black hair speaks to you. His voice sound's deep and alluring, you'd go as far as to say sexy if it weren't for the circumstances. He looks similar to his counterpart, the one with white hair, just, not the blonde. The blonde looks the same.. but different? He looked meaner, more provokable, the one with his hand around your throat. The blondes hand tightened when you continued to force yourself away from the gun in the hand of the man with white hair.

There's little strength used to push you back onto the gun, your throat spasming around the intrusive piece of metal. The gag that comes from your throat is loud but muffled at the same time. The hand used to push you further onto the Dessert Eagle -that also has his hand in your hair- is connected to that of a black-haired man, the cut and color really fitting his skin tone and face. He's attractive.. they all are, but, you're still tied up in their basement, the ropes still tight around your abdomen. The prickly fibers on the rope, passing through your thin clothes and leaving an itchy and raw feeling on your skin. The ropes rubbing against the inevitable cuts on your stomach and chest.

The black-haired man leans down, as he pulls your head further back, the quirk of his lips obvious but not genuine. His eyes are the worst, big, black, soulless pits. There's something.. dark, maybe sinister even. Eyes that belong to a killer, not a human being. The eyes of tragedy and sin, not of praise and prayer. He's.. too close, his big black, bottomless eyes, they're scary. Like they can see through you, like theres nothing in them. You can't see a pupil, does he have pupils? He must, but then again, he's not the most… normal looking man you've ever met.

You're lost in a daze, the mans dark eyes like a never-ending abyss, that, you don't realize the calling of your name by the three men, that is, until you feel the hand wrapped around your throat -by the long-haired blonde- slap your cheek. Not as hard as you would've guessed but hard enough to snap you out of your daze. The cloudiness of your eyes leaving and the limp state goes away. The redirect of your mind leads you to look at the man with white hair. He has the same dead, black eyes but.. he looks more tired, more exhausted. He looks like skin and bones, the clothes he's wearing hanging off him noticeably.

The man with white hair speaks up, "When one of us asks a question, you answer, not a moment before and certainly not a moment after. Do you understand.. I said, Do. You. Understand?" You give a nod after a moment of hesitance, the pupil of your eyes dilate at the gun. Your whole body is trembling, "are you gonna kill me..?" It comes out as a muffled whimper, around the gun, less of what you planned but suitable nonetheless, given the situation. You wish they didn't hold so much power but.. these men looked dangerous, it would be best to play as submissive as possible.. be their little angel, so to speak.

The white-haired man stares at you for a second, "I won't kill you if… you give me what I want, deal?" There's an automatic nod to your head. The glow in your eyes speaks for you, as you try to lean forward ready to give them everything… only to freeze at the sadistic grin he -the white-haired man- gives you. The man, slides the gun out of your mouth and uses it to lift your chin, "You eager.. huh, pretty doll?" The fat of your cheeks flush at his words but you don't pull away, not like you were ables to anyway. He -the white-haired man- leans down in-front of your face, "You don't know what I want.. do you babydoll.. huh?" There's an automatic shake of your head, the back down, courtesy of the fear you're feeling. Then comes the tears, the salty water pouring down your cheeks as your throat starts to close up and you start to panic.

There's a quick swap of position, the blonde now stands behind you, with a loose hand around your throat. The black-haired man still has a fist in your hair, but his other hand starts wiping away the tears from your cheeks and rubbing his thumb under your brow to coarse you into a false sense of vulnerability. The white-haired man stays put, the gun still pointed in your face and those dark eyes still glued on you as his hands stay eerily steady.He doesn't seem bothered and you'd bet millions that he's not, this seems to be an everyday occurence for him.

"W- what did you want..?" your voice leaves in a stutter, the sound of a pained whimper, is apparent to the men, that you're terrified. Then again, they could tell by your eyes, the eyes of a scared fawn, just what they like. The blonde speaks up, "We want our money back… the same money you and your little boyfriend owe us." There's a confused gargle at the back of your throat as you look up at him. The black-haired man starts chuckling, "C'mon now, princess. I really hope you don't pull the confusion bullshit like everyone else.." You shake your head at them, "I truly don't know what you're talking about, I didn't steal money."

The blondes hand tightened around your throat, the red imprints already stinging, "lying will only make us angry, maybe you should try telling us the truth. You'll get out of here a lot quicker if you do." You shake your head, only for it to be yanked back by the hand in your hair. The hand in your hair starts moving your head in a 'yes' motion and he laughs in your face, leaning closer. "You'll tell us what we want to know, angel?" The man guides your head again, moving it against your will, causing more tears to slip down your cheeks as your cries come out in pained whines because of the hand necklace you were so kindly given, against your will, of course.

The blonde speaks up, "we know you know what money we're talk- what's this, huh?" He pulls out a dime bag of coke from your bra. The reaction is immediate, to start thrashing in the chair again. Causing the black-haired man to lose his grip on your hair and get pushed away. The slap to your thighs are an immediate aftermath, the stinging causes your thighs to twitch open involuntarily. The gunman steps between them, he's close, too close, his breath smells of red bean paste, dorayaki.. maybe? The man slips the gun down from your jugular to your collarbone, leaving a angry red line.

"Please, that's not mine, I'm just… holding it for a friend. I- It- please, sir listen." There's a look between the men then a laugh. The black- haired man speaks up, getting close to your ear. "Sir, huh? That a lil'.. kink of yours sweetheart?" There's an immediate look of embarrassment, the dark blush climbing up your neck. The blonde leans down on your right, "oh, she likes that… you like this don't you? You like being tied up and having a gun pointed at your head, huh? You're a sick little bitch, you know that?" His hand glides down your clavicle to your stomach, then trailing down to your thighs then gliding his hand back up. The blonde takes out a knife and cuts the restraints on your wrists and ankles, then sheathes it back into his pocket.

"Please… it wasn't on me, it was Akamai, I swear, I didn't know, those fucking drugs aren't mine." There's a whine to the plead in your voice, just noticeable for the three… men, in front of you. "But, that's not entirely true… is it, pretty girl? You knew what your little… what? Boyfriend? Was doing, you came with him, is he.. your little..?"He gestures to your clothes. His two brothers behind him also give you curious eyes. Giving you a full once over, staring at your breasts, a little longer then necessary.

There's a look of disgust on your face, "are you calling me a whore??" There's a harsh lash in your tone. There's a chuckle from all three men. "No princess, well.. maybe, I mean look at you, you're dressed like a little slut. I wouldn't be surprised to find that he'd pimp you out?" It's quick- but not quick enough, your attempt to wrangle the throat of the man in front of you is quickly shut down by his twin? Brother? You're still not sure, but they're too similar to just be brothers. Then again, you doubt they'll tell you, if the gun pointed at your head right now tells you anything. BANG.

The bullet speeds past your face, cutting your cheek in the process. There's a slight sting but nothing serious. The bullet hits the drywall behind you, leaving a small hole. The sickly looking man leans down in-front of you and laughs in your face. His breath reeks of sugary treats.

You're yanked out of the chair by your hair, you trip and fall to your knees but the white-haired man continues to drag you to a door, it leads to a smaller room with a bed. The room is bland and cold, there's only a bed, with no sheets or covers.. no pillow and comforter either. The bed itself is small and looks to be covered in.. blood. The fluids on the bed are dried and old, browning in spots and dark red in others.

"Is this where you keep your sex slaves?" There's a chuckle from the blonde and black-haired man but a scoff from the man dragging you by your hair, "we don't keep "sex slaves".. we don't need to. Women pay to have sex with us, angel.. but there's a first for everything. Maybe you're the golden girl, hm?" The man lays you down on the bed and the black-haired man stands next to him. "Yeah, I like her, we'll keep her." The men make the agreement together, disregarding you completely.

"Who are you guys anyway?" There's a silence then a scoff from each men, "you seriously don't know who we are?" You hesitate for a moment, "I know who you guys are, kinda, The Sano brothers… that's it, I don't even.. know your names." They all step towards you simultaneously, the white-haired man speaks first.

"I'm Manjiro Sano, the one with black-hair is Jiro Sano and the blonde is Mikey Sano." The white-haired man clarifies. You look between the men. "So, are you guys- Manjiro and Jiro twins?" They nod. Then Mikey walks around his brothers and pushes you down on to the bed.

"We're willing to cut you a deal, sweetheart, sex in exchange for your freedom, we'll have your.. boyfriends head instead, sound good?" He states, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. You look at Mikey then his brothers, nodding your head as you kiss at Mikeys finger-tips. All three men grin and the other two get on the bed as well.

Jiro, pushes you down to climb on top of you. As he starts to kiss up your neck, Manjiro kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth as he runs his hand down your stomach, to your thighs and pulls them open. Mikey climbs in-between them, pulling at your pants. He throws them to the side, he takes his thumb and runs it over your clit, through your panties. He slips his index down you clothed slit. There's a wet patch under his fingers and he pats your cunt a couple times.

You whine into the mouth enclosing yours, running your left hand through Jiros hair. Tugging at the black strands, he groans into your neck, biting down a little harder. He pulls back to see the fresh teeth imprints, then he goes back down, he starts to mark other parts of your neck. Mikey licks you through your panties, nipping at the fabric and nuzzles his nose into your clit, causing you to try and jerk away. Mikey grabs you by the thighs and pulls you back down, towards his mouth.

He finally pulls your panties off and swipes the tip of his tongue over your clit, twirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves. Then sucking harshly on it. You pull yourself away from Manjiros mouth, to throw your head back and cry out in ecstasy. The cry is pretty to them, they want- they need more, they're hungry for it. Mikey pulls back from the cunt, there's a quick whine from you but it's cut short when Manjiro kisses you again. Mikey spits on your slit, then uses his index and middle to smear it on your pussy. Making sure to deliver slow, tight circles around your clit. He leans back down to assault your clit again, giving it wet kisses as he slips two fingers inside and scissoring them apart.

There's a hiss of pleasure that escapes through your lips but Manjiro is there to shush you. Jiro pulls back, "we have to make this quick, I have a meeting with Toman in thirty." He states, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down, as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. Mikey pulls back and also slips his pants and boxers off, as he does that, Manjiro places another kiss on your lips and pulls back. He doesn't undress, he just slips the undergarments below his cock. Then pushes into your mouth, your tongue wrapping around his tip without order.

Mikey leans back to spread your thighs a little wider, he takes his cock in his hand and rubs the tip along your slit, pressing the tip to your clit to circle the nerve before he slides in. The spit providing extra lubrication, as he slips in easily. You look over and make eye-contact with Jiro, the does of your eyes only feeding into your lust as grabs your left hand to wrap it around his cock. Smearing his pre-cum to help jerk him easier.

You're full, so fucking full. You've had sex before but it's never felt this good and you doubt it ever will again. You've never met a man that fills you quite like Mikey and you highly doubt his brothers would disappoint you as well. Judging from how your mouth has to stretch beyond capacity, and how your hand barely fits half-way around Jiros cock. The drugs were worth it, stealing the drugs from Akamai were more worth it then you first thought. You've always wanted to fuck the Sano brothers and if that means framing your money-hungry limp dick boyfriend then so be it.

Jiro moves closer to you and squeezes your hand tighter around his cock, he groans from the pressure and you move your hand faster, twisting your wrist and rubbing your thumb up and down the slit, it causes him to keen over you as he catches himself with his right hand above your head moving his left down to rub at your clit. The added pleasure causes you to squeal around his brothers cock. Your throat spasming around Manjros cock as you attempt to bob your head quicker on his dick. Mikey pulls you closer and pulls both your thighs onto his left shoulder as he fucks you harder, his right hand pressing down on your stomach, as his dick leaves a physical imprint inside you. He gives your left ankle a kiss as he leans his head on your calves, watching as you take his brother down your throat.

Manjiro wraps your hair around his fist as he starts to throat-fuck you. He uses his left hand to wipe away your tears as he rubs his thumb under your right eye. "You're doing so good for us, sweetheart?" You try to nod for him as best you can. He chuckles as you choke from your nodding and gives your right cheek a couple pats before he leans his head back and lowly groans. The sound reverberates around the small, bare room and so does the sound of the bed creaking, occasionally hitting the wall, every now and again.

The body bounces in rapid jerks from the thrusts as all three men fuck you pliant. The gags of your throat sending vibrations through Manjiros cock and he whines. The man looks at you through lidded black eyes. "Tell me now before I finish down your tight throat." There's a rapid nod from your end, you need to feel it slip down your throat, you need to taste him. He nods, letting his head fall back as he cums down your throat. His twin is next, Jiro cumming all over your chest, some getting on your stomach. He breathes heavily as he lazily grins at you, still rubbing tight circles around your clit.

You cum, harder then ever before, harder then you thought possible. Mikey tries to pull out but you shake your head and whine at him, he chuckles at that and pushes all the way to the brim, his balls taut against your ass as he cums inside. He's warm and fills you full, your stomach having a little bump from it, that he so gleefully pushes down on when he pulls out of you, causing the cum the slide out of you. Only for him to use his fingers to slide it back into, with a kiss to the cheek gets up. All three of the men stand up and redress themselves, giving you a smirk as they do so.

Manjiro walks back over to you and pecks your lips and with a peck to the cheeks from Jiro and Mikey, they grant you with the words you've longed to hear, since you saw them that day.

"We're gonna keep you princess.. I hope you don't mind."

236 notes · View notes

ruewrote · 9 months

Text

𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑.

PAIRING: evan buckley x fem!reader WARNINGS: blood, reader getting injured GENRE: angst, fluff SONG INSPIRATION: departure by jaron WORD COUNT: 1.1k

navigation

you had just finished shutting the doors of the ambulance, giving it two loud bangs for them to drive before re-joining the crew.

"another great save guys, good job!" bobby says as he pats eddie on the back, walking over to ready the engine.

"god im hungry!" he blurted out and you just laugh, "what?"

"i just seriously don't understand how you're hungry after all of that," if anything you felt incredibly nauseous.

that's when you felt the sharp hot pain in your side, suddenly finding it hard to stand, it had become apparent that your adrenaline had worn off.

falling to your knees as you cried out in agony. your hands pressed to the hurt area, pulling it back to find your hand soaked in your own blood.

buck worriedly rushed to your side, his hands gently pushed your shoulders back so you laid out flat on the ground. only to find the cause of your discomfort was a large piece of glass was sticking out of your stomach through your jacket.

his first thought was to curse you as you had recklessly climbed through the windshield when you helped the young woman out of the recent car wreck, only for her to be okay and for you to get injured yourself.

he rummaged through his medical bag for something to stop the bleeding, struggling but finally found the right supplies. using his teeth to rip open the packaging before putting pressure around the glass making you groan out in pain.

"i know, i know sweetheart. you're gonna be okay." no words left you just sharp little breaths as you lightly gripped onto bucks arm, trying to give him some sort of reassurance.

he screamed out for the rest of the team, voice breaking as tears streamed down his face. the glass was deep like really deep, all evan could think about was you and if anything had been nicked internally.

bobby and eddie ran over to the two of you, you could hear one of them call for another ambulance as soon as possible. something about a firefighter down, but all you could focus on was how cold you had gotten.

"buck i don't feel s-so goo-d..." for the first time in a long time you were afraid.

"they're on their way, you gotta hold on for me, please!" he begged as he smoothed the hair that had fallen across your face with his spare shaking hand, the other still tightly pressed against your wound.

shakily you lifted your hand to brush his tears, your thumb very slowly caressing his cheek. "you'll be oka.."

the pain was all too much, it was too difficult to keep your eyes open. evan shook your face, "no. no you've got to stay awake! i can't lose you." he shouted, as eddie pulled him away from you. the paramedics put you on the gurney rushing you into the back of the vehicle immediately hooking you up to multiple medications.

bobby and buck shared a look, the captain gave him a swift nod, that's all it took for him to jump into the seat next to you. grabbing a hold of your hand, squeezing it tightly in his own as you made your way to the hospital.

beep. beep. beep.

your vision was blurred as you opened your eyes, first seeing the heart monitor and the dark sky that peaked out from behind the wonky blinds. the hospital was quiet, a little too quiet for your liking.

you turned to your other side, finding a sleeping evan in what looked like the most uncomfortable chair with a blanket wrapped around his body.

a smile tugged at your lips, he stayed with you. your smile soon fell realising the last thing he saw of you conscious was you nearly bleeding out in his arms.

readjusting yourself was harder than you thought, grunting at the pain, holding your side.

buck woke up startled, jumping up to help you lay back down.

"that was one way to get your attention," you laugh before wincing.

"you've got to be careful, that glass got you good." he says as he straightened out your blanket.

he was trying to not show his worry, you had known him far too long to see through that. "buck, buckley!" you whisper yelled, grabbing his hand, pulling him close to you the best that you could.

everything fell still. his bigger hand intertwined with yours.

"i was so worried," his voice wobbled, it was only loud enough for you to hear.

"i should've stopped you, if i did you wouldn't be here right now."

you squeezed his hand, looking up at him. "you know you couldn't have stopped this, ev."

tugging on his hand to bring him closer to you, shuffling over in your bed, patting the small amount of space next to you. "hop in?" you questioned with a smile.

"there's no way there is enough room on that thing for the both of us!" he exclaimed

"well you better squeeze in then."

and so he did, your bodies pressed up against one another. only after buck extensively checked that he wasn't hurting you or laying on any tubes.

you were now both settled face-to-face, hearing nothing but each others breaths and the beating of your machine. your heart rate elevated when he leaned in closer to run his fingers through your hair.

feeling your face heat up, closing your eyes, embarrassed how a simple action could do that to you, let alone him being able to hear it. the sound of him chuckling worried you. but the feeling of him going back to gently brushing the stray hairs out of your face comforted you.

"i know we deal with close calls every single day, but i... god. all i could think about when they took you away was all the things i hadn't told you yet."

your eyebrows furrowed and eyes reopened, "what things?"

"uh, well things like 'i love you' and also to let you know that 'you stink'," he laughed as you playfully punched him in the arm.

"hey, ow!"

"took you long enough." you exaggeratedly sighed whilst trying to keep a straight face.

"you knew?!" he exclaimed as he sat up still looking for answers.

laughing at his reaction as you held your bandage, "no, you c'mere!"

he scooped you up in his arms, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, laughter now gone. he leaned in close, his lips brushed softly against yours. smiling into the kiss you pulled him closer to you.

you stayed like that for a while, cuddling, kissing and talking. that soon came to a stop when you fell asleep listening to evan's voice, he only realised this mid ramble. pulling the covers up over you, closing his eyes, slowly wrapping his arms around you. not before giving you a kiss on the forehead of course.

717 notes · View notes

myfictionaldreams · 1 year

Note

hello! i was wondering if it was possible to write a poly!marauders story about y/n using their safe word during overstimulation and the boys stopping to help them through aftercare.

i love seeing the proper use of consent in your stories and would just like to see one ab the care given when you sometimes need to stop mid way.

love your stuff!

A/N: I loved this request, thank you for sending it. I hope you (and everyone reading) are having a lovely weekend!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, angst, rough sex, intense, overstimulation, use of safe word, bdsm, dom/sub, size difference, panic attack, overwhelmed, crying, hurt/comfort, praise kink, aftercare, cuddling

Words: 2.4k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

Overwhelmed. That was one word you’d use for the current situation.

Your body was coated in all manners of different bodily fluids including sweat, spit, your juices and two other clumps of cum, one that was dribbling out of your mouth and the other was being used as lube by the third person involved.

Remus’s towering form was hunched over you, his cock pumping into your highly sensitive, sore cunt. It had been hours of intense fucking from all three of the marauders, so much so that a faint buzz had settled in your ears, muffling the voice of your boyfriend as he tried to coax another orgasm. “I know you can do one more for me love, just one more”.

“No”, was your exhausted response, eyelids drooping.

The word ‘no’ may have been muttered by you but it wasn’t necessarily a stop word, not in the current dynamic of the relationship. The four of you had a very specific dominant and submissive relationship and abided by the colour-coded safe word system, or if one of the three boys deems you’d been going for too long, everything would stop. This was meant for certain scenes to play out, you could say certain words to play along but if red or yellow was even mentioned, all trust was in the men looking after you to stop.

Even in your delirious, fucked-out mind now, you were still aware of these rules and even though it was a relentless session, you were holding out on the hope that Remus would be cuming soon, needing him to find his fulfilment.

However, the minutes ticked by and his thrusting continued with no end in sight. It hadn’t only been a long day, it had been an intense weekend. One day led into another and upon waking the euphoric, happy buzz that filled your veins with adrenaline had you instantly jumping onto one of the Marauders.

Now it was taking its toll, the pleasure seeping away and replaced with stinging, aching and discomfort. The thought of even another orgasm that would cause your pussy to flutter and spasm had a sense of dread, something you never thought would even cross your mind. However, glancing up at Remus, seeing the lust in his eyes, lips still moving in praises meant to make you feel safe and you did for the most part.

The thought of him cuming, finding his thrill and coating your insides to mix with the other Marauders cum was what kept you going and even though the safewords did momentarily cross your mind, the worry of them being upset that you were in pain and the embarrassment was enough for you to hold your tongue.

Remus slowed down his thrust, his scarred hand gripping your jaw sturdily, thumb moving to swipe across your lips, capturing the dribble of cum and pushing it into your lips. Happily, you sucked on his thumb, hoping the sight would excite him and it did for you too, the salty goodness a quick distraction.

“Good girl, you’re doing so well for me, just want one more orgasm Pup”, his lips found yours as he finished his sweet praises. Remus knew the exact phrases to say, he was so tentative and wanted the best for your pleasure and this only added to your own reasoning as to why you wanted him to find his end rather than your own.

James and Sirius were the same, particularly today. This may be why you were extra sensitive, the two quidditch players had sucked, licked and fucked their way to so many orgasms you’d lost count before Remus had even touched you.

Remus lifted his upper body up, leaning on his knees between your legs, still thrusting slowly and you could feel the drag of his cock against your swollen walls. With a hand on each thigh, Remus hiked your legs up higher on his hips, the grip tight, making sure the two of you were moulded together but from this angle, it meant his cock could press that little bit deeper.

This only lasted for a couple of thrusts before the tall Gryffindor was relaxing his hold on one of your legs to idly rub circles against your overused, swollen clit. The feelings almost took your breath away, imaginary sirens blaring in your mind, immediately shouting “no”, eyes clenched closed and then the word was automatically stumbling from your trembling lips, “red”.

The sensations went from overwhelming discomfort to instant relief as Remus within a second was off of your person, hands untouching and cock swiftly pulling out, leaving you throbbing but empty.

James and Sirius were by your side in an instant as well, all three hovering over you and it was like a tidal wave of one area being overwhelmed from physical to mental. Guilt was the first one, the look of worry etched on each of their faces, you didn’t want them to feel like that, it was supposed to be a nice time, instantly regretted using the safe word.

“Love, look at us, are you ok? Did I hurt you, was it too much”? Remus’ voice was laced with regret and panic as he tried to soothe the skin of your cheek with his thumb.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, your panic was engulfing, your body trembling with anxiety but this only caused the panic to increase as it felt like the world was collapsing in, the air seeming thick so you couldn’t breathe properly.

“She’s hyperventilating”, Sirius was the first to move, shifting his arm underneath your back, lifting up your body so he could easily slide behind, using himself to prop you upright. His lips hovered next to your ear, forcing you to listen to him, as the rest of him enveloped around you so his body heat could try and ground your panic attack.

James cupped your hands, holding them firmly whilst also stroking the back with his thumb in circles as Remus remained in front, cupping your face still.

Even though this situation had not happened during sex before, there had been occasions where you’d experienced panic attacks this severely and after much communication, they’d found that you liked to feel tight and contained, whether it was in a blanket that you were wrapped in or all of their bodies. The four of your bodies were still naked which also helped, to feel warm and safe in their embrace.

You were still struggling to stabilise your breathing into a normal pattern, heart pounding, feeling like impending doom, eyes tightly clenched closed but tears were still streaking down your cheeks. Remus was quick to catch these with his thumbs.

“Love, listen to my voice, I need you to look at me”, his voice was low and calm as he spoke, trying not to let his own panic about the situation dictate how he looked after you.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean- to say it-” you choked between quick breaths, beginning to feel dizzy, head attempting to lul back but unable to with the grip on it.

James lifted your hands up to his mouth, kissing your delicate fingers, shushing your words, and feeling his voice vibrate against your skin. Sirius was just the same from behind you, working with the two other marauders to use soft commands to get your breathing to calm.

“Stop talking sweetheart, I need you to open your eyes and look at me”, Remus continued, using a slight hint more authority in his tone, hoping to snap it through your anxiety. It worked as reluctantly your eyes snapped open, expecting to see him angry from stopping but all that was looking back at you were the warm eyes of Remus.

It was hard to try and rationalise any thought when your emotions were so heightened, knowing that it would have been absolutely fine otherwise but this had escalated so much in your mind that only the worst thoughts were circulating.

“Well done”, he made sure to add emphasis to the praise, to hope that you knew he truly meant it. “Now I need you to slow your breathing, keeping your eyes on me”.

The eye contact was helping but it did take a few attempts to stop trying to desperately take a deep breath. It was only when James moved your hands onto his chest that you could ground down to something, feeling his own breaths, how long he would breathe in for compared to breathing out. As you finally found any sort of rhythm with your breathing, were you able to concentrate on the others as well.

For example, Sirius’ soft commands of “in and out” as he moved his chest that was still holding you up, physically moving your body with him which helped immensely.

It took a while of stuttering and being forced to not talk but to only concentrate on your breathing, all the whilst holding eye contact with Remus. Eventually, you were calm, the sensation of doom or passing out having passed, only instead replaced with shame and embarrassment.

“That’s it, keep going, nice and slow”, Remus interrupted you as your mouth opened to speak but this was something you wanted them all to hear.

“I’m sorry”, your voice was croaky and barely above a whisper. The tears were still flowing and you were sure to look like a mess but from the sad smile Remus was giving you, he didn’t give anything away. Sirius’s gentle kiss against your neck made your heart beat a little quicker with how soft he was being, the subtle tickle of his long hair against your shoulders caused a slight shiver to pass through you.

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for”.

“But you didn’t cum”, again shame was writhe throughout your body, cheeks heating as Remus continued to make sure you looked into his eyes.

“Love, I would never cum again if it meant that you were comfortable during these moments. Don’t ever apologise for using safe words, they’re there for all of our safety, we need to listen to each other.” His words were almost like a warm blanket, muscles relaxing slightly into all of their grips. Of course, you knew he meant those words and that was what had been discussed before and agreed to, just your anxiety and panic for some reason changed your outlook on it.

Finally, the tears slowly stopped dropping and Remus’ grip of your face relaxed, the warmth disappearing was a loss but automatically you were able to relax back into Sirius’ shoulder, turning into his neck as he held you.

“Are you hurt? Did I hurt you?” the words sounded just as ashamed as yours previously did.

“No, no it’s ok, it’s just sore and the thought of having another orgasm just set me off I think, I’m sor-”.

It was James to cut you off, lifting his rough hand to cover your mouth entirely, eyes gleaming with mischief. “I’m banning the word sorry from your pretty lips”. Beneath his hand, you couldn't hold back the small smile, which he felt and was speedy to remove his hand so he could see the small spark of joy in your expression. “Ah, more of that please”.

The four of you sat in momentary happiness but the discussion needed to be had so Remus gently tipped your chin in his direction with a single finger. “Talk to me, so we know what we need to be doing better next time”.

“I’m just sore and overstimulated I think and I think I forced myself to go on for too long because I wanted you to cum but it was a little overwhelming”.

“I’m sorry, Love”, it was Remus now to look distraught at causing the discomfort but you were quick to brush that away.

“No please don’t be sorry, you didn’t know I was feeling like that”.

“I think it’s something we can all learn from”, James continued speaking on everyone’s behalf, taking a moment to pause and kiss your temple before continuing. “We’ll be more careful next time and maybe check in more frequently if you’re reaching your limit rather than just using the safe words. However, it is a group effort darling, we have safe words to limit the use of red so please if you’re ever feeling remotely uncomfortable, say yellow or red. Even if it's as simple as changing positions or having a drink of water, we will discuss it to stop it from getting to the point of using the red word and you being overwhelmed. And please never feel like you have to suffer just for our benefit, we can take care of ourselves if you don't want to continue, how does that sound?”

A lump formed in your throat as you stared into the big hazel eyes of James. How could you ever be worried that they’d be upset at you, they always made it known your priority was first.

“Yes, that sounds good”, you made sure to respond verbally, smiling as you finished the sentence.

Sirius’ kiss against your cheek had you turning towards him slightly as he asked, “how does it feel now? Are you still in pain?”

“It’s just all throbbing a bit”, referring to in between your legs.

“Can we check?” Nodding your head in response, Sirius helped to lay you back into the middle of the bed, kissing your cheek one last time before easing out from behind you. Remus and Sirius checked all over your body for any signs of injuries, the most obvious being the swollen and physically throbbing cunt.

James lay beside you, talking you through everything, keeping you smiling and occupied as Sirius found some cooling gel that had been previously used to help soothe when you were overused. Then as Sirius used his wand to delicately clean up the liquids coating your body, Remus sat on the edge of the bed, making sure that you drank a full glass of water, praising you when you handed back an empty glass.

He then too joined the bed, lying on the opposite side to James and handing everyone a chunk of chocolate from his secret stash, the sugar perfectly needed. Snuggled between James and Remus, you could hear Sirius shuffling around somewhere before he casually asked, “Have you guys heard of the muggle singer David Bowie?”

“Here we go”, James muttered to himself, sitting up to see what Sirius was doing. What proceeded was a lengthy performance filled with props, very off-key singing and theatrics from Sirius who was still very naked but that added to the performance. You laughed so hard that tears were forming in the corner of your eyes.

Even though it had been a stressful night, glancing at each Sirius, Remus and James, you couldn’t help but feel grateful. They made you feel safe, warm and happy.

#poly!marauders #the marauders #marauders smut #sirius black smut #sirius black one shot #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin smut #james potter smut #james potter one shot #hp smut #hp one shot #mine*#sirius black #hp #remus lupin #james potter

1K notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 4 months

Text

The Loved One (2/2)

[ modern • Aemond x Alys!sister • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, swearing, toxic behaviour and relations, manipulation, therapy ]

[ description: After the events of that night, Alys' sister tries to move on from what happened, proud that she didn't cause a tragedy. However, when it turns out that Alys' boyfriend has broken up with her the next day, her older sister becomes hysterical, and she wonders despairingly whether she was the reason of his decision. Lost, obsessive, distant, desperate Aemond. Anon request. ]

This is Part 2 of The Second One

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Even though weeks had passed since that bizarre night, she couldn't forget what had happened. It didn't help that the next day her older sister called their mother crying, saying that this shithead had dared to leave her, to walk away after all she had endured for him.

She stared with big eyes at the pancakes lying on the plate in front of her feeling the cold sweat on her neck and the rapid pounding of her heart, listening to her mother's puzzled questions trying to calm her down, saying in a trembling voice that maybe it would be better this way, that after all they were still fighting.

Alys seemed to have forgotten everything that happened between them and what he had said to her the day before, she felt tears under her eyelids hearing her sobbing, her helpless confession that she loved him and didn't want to live without him.

She felt his hand between her thighs, his tongue deep in her throat.

She was ashamed that she had barely held back, that she had refused him with difficulty, that some part of her wanted him to stay.

To fuck her.

She swallowed loudly, feeling herself shudder at the memory of the piece of paper he had slipped under her door and what was written on it.

I wish I had met you before her.

She felt a kind of discomfort at the thought of being possessed by some kind of terror and satisfaction, because she was bonded with him by a secret that no one knew about but them.

A moment later, however, she recalled how awful things he had said about Alys, how objectively he had treated her, and that he would have done exactly the same with her if she had not regained her sobriety of mind in time.

She has big tits and a big ass.

She sucks cock well.

She shook her head, feeling that it made her sick to her stomach at the thought, and got up from the table, unable and unwilling to listen to it, recognising that her sister was right.

They were made for each other.

To her despair, Alys came to their house again later that day, but paying no attention to her, directing her despair and pain towards their mother, telling her that he wasn't taking her calls, that he had blocked her number, that he had simply texted her briefly and that was it.

"How could he do this, so many years, we've been through so much together and he breaks up with me over a fucking text message? Like a fucking kid, no conversation, no explanation?" She heard her mumbling coming from the living room and their mother's voice trying to reassure her, she stood in the dark hallway of their house, eavesdropping involuntarily, thinking with some kind of amusement that it was obvious he had ended it that way.

She shuddered when she heard her name and the fact that her sister had stood up, she ran quickly upstairs, fearing that the subject of their argument and what she had accused him of would now cause her to lash out at her.

True to her intuition, Alys knocked on the door to her room after a while, her mother tried to calm her down but she interrupted her saying that she just wanted to talk, that it was possible she knew of something more.

They stepped inside, her older sister grunting as she tried to quiet herself down, wiping her smudged make-up with her fingers, her face red from tears.

"I'm sorry for his inappropriate behaviour yesterday, he kept staring at you, too sure to get me off balance. Did he bother you after I left?" She asked, putting her hands in front of her, as if this question was a formality for her.

Something in the way she said it, in her conviction that it all revolved around her, that she was asking it not because she was worried about her but because she wanted to prove something to herself made any sympathy and remorse she had felt a moment before disappear.

She told me about you. What an ugly duckling you are. That you don’t know how to dress well, don’t know how to accentuate your figure and your assets. That you hide yourself in big sweatshirts and sit with your nose in books instead of really living and that there’s nothing to talk to you about because you can’t converse about anything interesting.

She recognised that she had acted appropriately, she had cut whatever was going on in time and told him to leave, so she didn't feel the need to admit anything.

"He wanted to talk to me about Gombrowicz, presumably so that I would repeat it to you later and to arouse your jealousy. I told him to leave and that's what he did." She replied softly so that her words were not a complete lie, her sister pressed her lips together, clearly displeased by her statement, her nostrils quivering in uncertainty and rage.

"Is that all? He didn't want anything else?" She asked coolly, and she raised her eyebrows and laughed dryly, recognising that for some reason all this amused her, the thought that her little sister about whom she had said such things might have taken away something that belonged to her.

She had no such intention.

Take him, she thought.

You're both sick.

"Me? Please. I told him clearly not to involve me in your affairs and use me against you." She said indifferently, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that her sister had turned purple, she swallowed loudly as if she was afraid of what she was about to hear.

"What did he say to you?" She asked in a trembling voice forcing herself to be calm, from which she felt a thrill of satisfaction.

"A lot of things. For example, what you say about me. What a caring, good sister you are. How much you worry about me, with what tenderness you think of me." She replied while playing with the pencil lying on her desk, not even looking at her, feeling the awkward silence that had fallen around them.

"I…after all, you know that I would never say anything in bad faith. I get upset with you sometimes, like any sister, I don't understand you, it's true, but I love you, you know that. God, that fucking liar and manipulator!" She growled helplessly, fiddling with her necklace between her fingers in a nervous gesture, looking pleadingly at their mother as if hoping for her support in the matter.

"If he's a liar and a manipulator, why do you want to be with him?" She asked tiredly and impatiently, no longer feeling anything but grief and disapproval.

"That's how we are, both of us…like fire, we argue and come back, it's always been that way." She muttered, and she swallowed hard, thinking with relief that the fact that she had refused him was the wisest decision of her life.

"Do what you want, don't get me involved. Leave." She said dryly, taking a book from her shelf, Trans-Atlantyk by Witold Gombrowicz.

Alys left her room, clearly furious that the conversation hadn't gone according to her plan, that she couldn't go on playing the victim, the one innocent and perpetually abused.

She thought she wanted nothing to do with them.

A few weeks passed and she slowly began to forget about the situation even though Alys couldn't get over it, she knew she was now on some sleeping pills, immersed in utter despair.

She figured that sooner or later she would find someone else, she just prayed that he wouldn't change his mind and come back to her, because she didn't know how she would bear the sight of him in her house.

However, something happened that she had not expected at all.

One evening she received a message from an unknown number.

She opened it and frowned after she read its contents.

She felt her heart start pounding like crazy, a cold sweat on the back of her neck, she covered her mouth with her hand, terrified, wondering where he had got her number, what was she supposed to do now.

Block it and delete it? Threaten him with telling Alys and her mother everything?

She was afraid of what he was capable of, that he might start talking about the fact that she had let him stay with her after all, that something more than a kiss had happened.

She swallowed loudly as she looked at her screen and slowly typed out a reply on her phone's keypad.

She sent it, clenching her eyes, thinking with despair that her answer was too aggressive, that it would surely enrage him, that she would regret all that had happened, her stupid moment of weakness.

She shuddered when, a moment later, her display lit up again and she opened the message from him with her heart beating fast.

She looked at what he'd written without knowing for herself what she felt, her throat squeezed so tightly that she had trouble breathing. She jumped when the messages began to appear one after another.

She read everything he wrote with an expression of disbelief, completely shocked by this sudden externalisation. She felt her heart squeeze, her body trembling in horror at the fact that he was trying to play with her again, unwittingly giving her what she wanted.

She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, angry at herself for letting him do this to her, telling her what she wanted to hear, putting himself in the role of a disappointed and disillusioned man who needed comforting.

He knew she longed to be appreciated, to be important to someone, to be the only one, to do something her sister had failed to do.

To fix him.

He was giving her himself on a plate, distraught, seeking comfort and refuge, an opportunity for her to prove herself, to show to herself that she was better, more tender, smarter than her sister.

She felt tears of helplessness and humiliation gathering at the corners of her eyes, and swallowed loudly, typing out a message on her phone.

She sent the message and breathed out loud, covering her face with her hands, wondering in pain why he was doing this to her, why he was being so cruel.

Did he want to prove something to himself, to stab her sister in the back with her help?

She shuddered when she heard her phone vibrate and unlocked it quickly, her lips dry with stress.

She didn't know why she burst into sobs after reading his message, why she felt so sad, embittered and humiliated.

I wish I had met you before her.

Why was he doing this to her?

Why was he messing with her head?

For some reason, because of everything she had read, she felt even worse, the pain that ripped through her heart seemed unbearable.

Some part of her wanted to believe him.

She had trouble sleeping, going back to what he had written again and again, once wanting to block him, then immediately deciding that there was no need, that he had clearly given her peace.

She knew she should forget about him, but she couldn't.

Therefore, she tried to concentrate on her studies, her classes filling her entire days, she even took extra lessons, wanting to be away from home in the evenings as well.

Walking through the large, neo-Gothic hall, she came across a poster hanging on the notice board, announcing open lectures taking place every week on Thursday at 7pm, on the works of Orwell, Kafka, Dostoyevsky and Gombrowicz, entitled 'The Fall of the World'.

She thought the whole thing sounded extremely tempting, and as she loved all these writers, she decided to attend at least once.

The lecture was held in a library that anyone could enter, to make things easier for outside listeners, when she went inside most of the seats at the tables were already taken.

She stopped in mid-step, wanting to back away, but it was too late; the tall, well-built figure of a blond-haired man sitting in one of the chairs turned towards her involuntarily, his gaze expressing shock.

"Miss Rivers, welcome! Please, take a seat." Professor Moore, the same one who had lectured to her year on twentieth-century world literature, spoke to her.

She nodded, horrified that it would be at least odd if she left now, so she sat down in one of the empty seats trying not to look at the sinister, inscrutable man sitting a few seats away.

She felt ashamed that some part of her was glad to see him, as if she hoped to meet him again.

"Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four is an extremely heavy read, filled with metaphors, and yet, the author foretold something in it, perfectly describing what communism led to, the fear of surveillance and propaganda, the feeling that everyone is an informer, that no one can be trusted, can be observed in a large part of contemporary Russian citizens. Cut off from non-state information sources, from certain parts of the internet, they live in the conviction that their country cares about them, that the security services are following them and spying on them for their own good. Some even firmly believe that this is for the best. Don't you think it's frightening that something Orwell predicted actually happened, on top of it earlier than he thought?" Asked her professor, she raised her hand, recognising that if she allowed herself to be drawn into the discussion, she would stop thinking about the man who sat a few chairs away.

He let her speak with a nod.

"Orwell wrote this book in 1945, already knowing what Nazism and Communism were. He did not understand how Western Europe could have agreed to recognise Stalin as one of the victors and lead, as a result, to the so-called Iron Curtain in later years. This book was his warning, his sense that we had crossed some line of dehumanisation after Auschwitz that had never happened before in the world." She said on one exhale, a second person, an older man also raised his hand.

"He may have known, but he also felt under his skin that it would not end with communism and Nazism. And he was right. The place of these groupings is being taken by others, just as threatening, also talking about the rights of the nation or the equality of all. We forget that Hitler and Lenin also originally floated on fine words." Said the man, several people nodded their heads in agreement. She shuddered when she heard another voice, familiar to her, speak up without permission, impatient.

"Orwell was not an idiot. If he had wanted to deal with the problem of the rise of political sects, he would have started with that, but he places the plot in the course of events when the state is completely subordinated to the apparatus of power. We hope for a happy ending, a complete victory, but Orwell recognises that there was no such thing after the Second World War. Nuremberg held Germany to account, but not Russia or Japan. Nowadays we don't even talk about their crimes, we delight in their culture and history forgetting whose side they were on, often committing far worse crimes than Hitler."

He said coldly, she was surprised by how accurate this observation was, she looked at him involuntarily, he was sitting with his profile to her, his jaw clenched, the fingers of his hand stretched out on the tabletop moving restlessly, playing with the pen that lay before him.

He glanced at her, as if to see how she would react to his words, to his voice, and momentarily dropped his gaze, as if embarrassed, caught off guard.

"Each of these three comments is exceptionally apt. The anxiety that Orwell arouses accompanies us in our daily lives right up to the present day, and somehow he has managed to create a vision of a universal totalitarian system that suits every one that has been mentioned. Let us now turn to the specific chapters…"

They passed the rest of the lecture discussing whether there really was any resistance movement at all, or whether it was just a contrived idea used to catch would-be rebels and break their will even before they could really stand up to anyone.

Somehow the conversation about the book had put her in a depressed, gloomy state; when the professor thanked them and said they were seeing each other next week she wasn't sure she'd come a second time.

Even more so if she was to see him during them.

They were open lectures and he had a right to be there, but she was already tired.

She heard his footsteps behind her and knew it was him when she felt his large hand grab her gently by her shoulder.

"Wait. I'm sorry. I really didn't know you were coming −"

"− I know. You have nothing to apologise for." She said softly, wanting to pull away from him, but he didn't let her go, even though she wasn't looking at him she could feel his burning gaze, his heat, his raspy breath on her cheek.

"− promise you'll come next week − that you won't give up because of me −" He said in a low voice, she felt embarrassment and a squeeze in her throat at the thought that she wasn't sure if he meant that he didn't want her to give up her interests because of him, or that he was hoping to see her again.

"− I don't know yet −" She replied in a shaky, tired voice, feeling that her heart was pounding like crazy, for some reason she felt tears burning under her eyelids, at the same time she wanted him to give her peace and not to do it, something in his darkness, in his unpredictability attracted her.

She thought with despair that perhaps it was the same thing that kept Alys from forgetting him.

He grunted and let her go, clearly sensing that he had held her for too long, an awkward silence full of tension fell between them.

"I'm not going to lie. I was hoping to see you here." He murmured lowly, lowering his gaze, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trousers, the black turtleneck he wore perfectly framing his well-built, broad chest.

She pressed her lips together at his words, adjusting the straps of her backpack hanging over her shoulders in an involuntary, nervous gesture, unsure what she was supposed to respond to such a confession, feeling heat in her lower abdomen at the thought that for some reason he didn't want to forget her.

"Why are you doing this? What else do you want from me?" She asked embittered, looking up at him at last, he lifted his gaze to her, fear, desperation and shame in his eyes.

He swallowed loudly, as if he didn't know what he should answer, looking at her in silence.

"I missed you." He muttered quietly, embarrassed like a small child, she shook her head, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief.

"What?"

"I missed you. The way I felt back then."

"For God's sake, we only spoke once, what do you miss? The adrenaline that was bubbling inside you at the thought that maybe I'd be naive enough to let you fuck me? I let you into my room, into my life only for you to humiliate me. You are a cruel man."

She mumbled out while bursting into a loud, uncontrollable sob, covering her face with her hand, she heard in disbelief that his reaction to her words was identical, he embraced her and pulled her close, hugging her to his chest and although she wanted to push him away, she couldn't.

"− I didn't mean to hurt you − I swear I really just wanted to talk, I couldn't sleep, I was angry − what happened next −" He mumbled out, his voice stuck in his throat, he drew in a sudden, shaky breath of air, swallowing loudly.

"− I just − I don't know, I have no idea what came over me, I never cheated on her, I swear − I swear −" He babbled, both of them crying loudly, her hands rose higher and tightened on his back, she felt both pain and relief at the thought that he was as embarrassed and heartbroken as she was.

"− can we start again? − as if we had never met? −" He asked pleadingly and she, not knowing why, nodded, thinking she wanted to leave it all far, far behind.

Although they both calmed down after a moment, they still lingered in each other's embrace, a pleasant shiver running down her spine as she felt his large hand stroking her hair and back with a calm gesture full of care, her face snuggled into his warm chest, her nostrils filled with his masculine scent.

She shuddered and swallowed loudly as his lips placed a drawn-out, hot kiss on the top of her head, her breath caught in her throat when she felt something pulsate hard in his trousers.

They pulled away from each other, wiping their faces, both pretending nothing had happened, he breathed out loud, combing his hair in a light, careless gesture, his cheeks red with emotion.

"− see you −" He muttered, and although she knew she shouldn't, she showed up for the next lecture.

And then the next and the next.

Each time he sat down next to her, close, too close, his legs splayed comfortably making his knee pressed against hers, but she didn't move away, herself getting something out of the situation that she couldn't name.

Her sister had told her mother on the phone that she had moved on, that she wasn't going to trouble herself with this bastard, told her about their endless arguments, about how he would raise his voice and throw things, leave in the middle of a conversation slamming the door, about how he always acted like a spoilt little child when he didn't get what he wanted.

She knew that she was leaving out of these arguments what she herself had said and done in an obvious attempt to create a narrative of his one-sided aggression, however, despite being malicious and ironic, she was struck by how completely different his view of the whole thing was.

Sometimes the two of them would buy warm tea from the vending machine and spend spring evenings in the university park sitting on the grass on his leather jacket, just talking, since they had both cried and cuddled he had not tried to touch her or otherwise invade her personal space.

"My family has always been involved in the modeling industry. Big money, big banquets, fashion shows in Paris and Venice. I always despised it, but what could be done? My father expected me and my siblings to take over his inheritance, on top of which his daughter from his first marriage was fighting for a bigger share than she was originally entitled to. It was some kind of nightmare." He muttered, taking a sip of the hot liquid from a small cardboard cup, looking somewhere ahead with a blank stare, the sun was setting behind the beautiful neo-Gothic red brick buildings.

"To be honest, it never interested me. I was into art, but not this half-world. When I met your sister I liked the fact that she was going after what she wanted. Of course, she wasn't the first chick to want to go to bed with me for the obvious benefits, but her impudence was downright endearing in a way. Only later did I realise that it was impudence mixed with calculating. But we were both too proud to let go, to be the weak link."

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, finally looking at her with the same tired, resigned eyes she had seen for weeks, she couldn't tell if what he was saying and showing her was the truth or just his game.

But who would want to pretend for so long?

He lowered his gaze, scratching his cheek with his thumb, seeing in her eyes that she remained wary of him, that she did not trust him.

She herself didn't know why she had allowed him to spend time together, only to find with sadness that some part of her wanted to understand him.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to undo what's happened inside your head without the help of a professional." She said softly, looking down at the cup she held between her hands on her thighs, she heard him swallow hard, she knew this topic was not comfortable for him.

"Will you come with me? If I make an appointment." He muttered in a low, hoarse voice, she looked at him in disbelief feeling a tightness in her throat, once again surprised by his behaviour and his words.

"If you really do it, I'll go with you." She said quietly, feeling a sense of discomfort, knowing she shouldn't do it, on the other hand realising that her mother had made sure Alys visited the psychiatrist at least a few times, and he needed it just as badly.

She did not believe that he would do so, recognising that this was part of his plan to soften her up.

Nevertheless, after a few days she received a message from him with the address of the doctor's office and the time of the appointment.

She turned up at the place indicated, lying to her mother that she had gone to the University Library, the office of the man he had mentioned was in fact in the suburbs, and next to the door to the building was a nameplate with his profession.

A few minutes before the time he pulled up in a big, shiny black SUV, dressed in a black tight T-shirt tucked into black trousers, a watch on his wrist, when he got out he looked stressed and unhappy, she knew he really didn't want to do that.

He lit a quick cigarette even though he only had a few minutes left before his visit and she thought he would cowardly tell her that he didn't feel like it after all, that he didn't have to do it, that he was already feeling better.

"Is it really necessary? Externalising myself to some fucking asshole for my money?" He asked coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette with a quiet hiss, she looked at him feeling a squeeze in her chest, tears of regret under her eyelids at the thought that she had spent so much of her time and effort on him only to realise that he was exactly as she had imagined him to be.

Seeing the look on her face he swallowed loudly and lowered his gaze to his feet, wiping his forehead with the back of the hand in which he held the cigarette in a nervous gesture, she had the impression that his body was quivering.

"− I'm sorry − thank you, little one − if it wasn't for you I wouldn't have come here at all −" He muttered low, taking a quick drag a few times, extinguishing the remnants of his cigarette on a bin standing nearby, letting the smoke out loudly through his nose.

He startled her when he stepped inside, so she moved behind him, both of them heading up the steps past the signs straight into the cabinet. She watched as he sighed heavily and knocked, a middle-aged man who could have been their father opened the door for him after a moment.

"This is my friend I mentioned. I want her to be there when we talk." He said lowly, and she froze, looking at his back in disbelief as he stepped inside, convinced that he just wanted her to wait for him outside.

She lowered her gaze, horrified at the thought that he would be telling him his problems, his most intimate secrets in front of her, but she wasn't sure she could refuse when he had already taken such a big step forward.

The doctor smiled at her and, with a gesture of his hand, encouraged her to go inside, so she did, taking a seat on the other side of the sofa, the doctor sat opposite them.

"Please tell me what brings you to me."

He began, she stared at a flower in a pot standing at the other end of the office, feeling like an intruder, as if she was eavesdropping on someone's conversation and had no idea what she should do with herself.

"I tend to be verbally aggressive. I tend to get involved in toxic relationships with other toxic people and I'm like that myself."

She heard his low voice and swallowed loudly, somehow appreciating his self-criticism, the fact that he saw the problem holistically.

"Let's start with the first sentence. What do you think 'verbal aggression' means?"

"I know what to say to hurt someone. I know it, I do it on purpose and I get satisfaction from it."

"Please say something more about this feeling of satisfaction."

He remained silent for a moment, she heard him shrug his shoulders, impatient.

"The feeling of power."

"What do you feel after that, when the satisfaction passes?"

"Emptiness."

She looked at him uncertainly, fiddling nervously with the fabric of the dress covering her thighs, feeling that her whole body was tense, a cold sweat on her back.

"A lot of people get addicted to adrenaline. Also from arguments, aggression or violent sex. The lack of affection and security is filled with temporary emotions, and their absence causes similar symptoms to alcohol rehab. When you regain control you see yourself and the world as it is."

Said the doctor, she saw him just nod at his words, swallowing hard, looking at his hands, she saw with horror that he was picking at the cuticles around his nails creating tiny wounds.

He remained silent.

"You mentioned that you consider yourself a toxic person and get into a relationship with such people."

"Yes."

"Why do you judge yourself that way?"

The man asked, and he licked his lips in a quick impatient gesture.

"Because I am cruel to other people. Harsh and vicious."

"Please elaborate on that thought."

For the next half hour he talked about examples of his behaviour, how he despised models making a career out of bed, how deep down he loathed her sister and himself, the business he was forced to be stuck in, full of injustice and discrimination.

She listened to it feeling resentful towards him for deceiving her sister for so long, on the other hand hearing for the first time how Alys addressed him, what the beginning of their relationship was like.

"When I gave her what she wanted she was the sweetest, most submissive woman I knew. But if I didn't, she would turn into a screaming, spiteful creature telling me I was a cunt and a little child, so I didn't leave her hanging. What did she expect, that she would call me that and I wouldn't answer anything? That I didn't know she had nothing more to offer me than her body? What pissed me off about her wasn't that she lacked knowledge, it was that there was no curiosity about the world in her, that she didn't want to expand it, to understand more. Just fucking, partying and posing."

"But you still lasted in that relationship because, from what I understand, you were so comfortable. What changed?" The doctor asked, and she flinched as he glanced at her quickly, immediately looking away, swallowing loudly, terrified of what was about to leave his mouth.

"I think that I'm in love with someone."

She drew in air loudly, feeling tears under her eyelids, her whole body breathless, she felt the heat in her lower abdomen, that embarrassing, sticky wetness.

She knew she shouldn't, but when he suggested after the visit that she go to his place, she agreed.

There was a kind of despair in the way he pressed her against the wall with a sudden motion as soon as the door closed behind them, the way his tongue forced its way between her lips with his groan of relief, the way, with quick and sure movements, his hands slid the material of her underwear off her, which she threw off her legs with an impatient flick.

She knew she shouldn't, but she felt nothing but delight as he knelt in front of her looking at her with wide eyes, he lifted the material of her dress over her thighs, throwing her hip over his shoulder, she tilted her head back with a soft moan as his lips began to brush and kiss her weeping folds.

"− we can't −" She muttered, but she knew she'd only said it to feel a little less regret that it was so pleasurable, that her fingers clenched on his short hair as he cupped her clit between his lips and began sucking on it, teasing her opening again and again with the tip of his tongue.

"− fuck − fuck −" She whimpered girlishly, moving her hips involuntarily in rhythm with his strokes, a loud murmur of delight erupting from his throat at how much she was leaking, the sound of it running in vibration through her entire body.

"− I could spend all day like this − would you like it? −" He gasped between teasing motions of his tongue pushing its way between her sticky muscles, hot with arousal, a moan bordering on a cry broke from her throat as he began to tease the spot hidden inside her from which his whole corridor seemed blurred to her.

"− stop −" She mumbled helplessly, panting loudly along with him, feeling his words deep inside her, her walls began to clench around nothing, he only grunted at her plea, stopping abruptly, rising from his knees, she settled again on both feet, feeling that her legs were trembling all over.

"− you can leave now, if you want − I won't stop you −" He breathed out, with a quick, sure movement of his fingers undoing the buckle from the belt of his trousers, she looked at him with her eyes wide open, feeling in her mind only that wonderful heat between her thighs.

"− be gentle − be gentle and don't mock me −" She muttered, and he grabbed her by her hair and pulled her close, their lips pressed together in an aggressive, sticky, loud kiss.

She squealed quietly as he lifted her easily, in an involuntary reflex she threw her arms around his neck, enclosing his waist between her legs, his mouth smelling of her wetness not pulling away for a moment as his one hand dealt with the material of his trousers and boxers.

The tips of his fingers ran over her cheek, his forehead pressed against hers as she felt the fat head of his cock push in between her folds, they both moaned low, surprised, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her thigh, forcing her to fit him deeper inside her.

"− fuck −" She whimpered, spreading her thighs wider, he looked down at her with eyes black with desire, his lips parted in a pathetic groan as her leaking walls let him all the way in.

"− god, little one − oh fuck −" He mumbled out with involuntary movements of his hips thrusting into her as deeply as possible, they both moaned into each other's mouths as his lips pressed against hers again, her hands ran over his hair and down the nape of his neck, answered by his loud murmur of pleasure.

"− I've waited so long for this − you were already wet for me then, weren't you? − you wanted it inside you −" He breathed out, speeding up, each stroke of his swollen cock teasing again and again the same spot he had squeezed with his tongue earlier, only a helpless moan of pleasure escaping from her chest, their bodies slapping against each other with a loud click of her moisture.

"− please − please, please, please −" She babbled between licks of their tongues and lips, his large hands clamped down on her ass, accelerating, the stabs of his hips opening her wide on his length again and again, her walls pulsing against him, sucking him inside.

"− oh, yes, that's it − gonna cum, baby? − gonna cum for me? −" He cooed rooting into her with his cock thick with lust, she nodded her head clenching her fingers in his hair, panting hard, and she leaned back with a sweet moan as her body shook with convulsions, her walls began to throb and clench against him in pleasure.

"− god, yes − little one − where −" He muttered, and she only managed to whimper for him to come inside her, thanking God for the existence of the pills, she heard his low groan of relief and pleasure, a few messy, greedy thrusts of his hips were enough to make him spill inside her, their bodies twitching and quivering, shocked at how intense this close-up was.

For a long moment they both merely panted and kissed lazily, his hands running over the bare, hot skin of her buttocks, her fingers stroking his hair with his quiet murmur of pleasure.

"− so good − so kind − so pretty −" He hummed between their kisses, stroking the soft skin of her cheek with his thumb, shame overwhelmed her at the thought that she felt butterflies in her stomach at his words.

She knew she shouldn't do this, but she let him take her once more on his bed, his thighs slapping against her buttocks again and again with each desperate thrust of his hips, their naked bodies entwined together in a tight embrace, sweaty and hot.

"− fuck − fuck −" He panted into her mouth between greedy, messy, loud kisses, his wonderful scent filling her entire lungs, her naked breasts pressed against his chest, her fingers digging into the bare skin of his back.

"− mghm − m close −" She mumbled out, her walls oversensitive after her earlier fulfilment, the tip of his swollen cock rubbing again and again the spot inside her from which she felt shivers and tickling, the heat in her lower abdomen unbearable.

"− come on, little one − give me one more − that's it, fuck! −" He gasped loudly and bit his lower lip, trying to stifle the low groan of pleasure that ripped from his throat as her fleshy muscles began to throb in orgasm, sucking him inside.

She tried to push him away, delicate and sore, quivering and writhing beneath him, but he accelerated, slamming into her for a moment more with sure, deep thrusts.

"− I know, baby, just a moment longer − shhh −" He mumbled out before he reached his peak inside her for the second time, a soft, loud sigh of relief and delight escaping his lips.

He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her hair, panting heavily along with her, their skin sticky from sweat and exertion, their hands trailing blindly over their naked bodies, wanting to remember and take everything possible from this moment.

"− stay with me, little one − please, stay with me −" He whispered softly, his voice trembling with emotion, with the feeling that she was going to try again to escape him, what he wanted and what it all meant.

She swallowed quietly and combed her fingers through his hair, looking up at the ceiling with slightly parted lips, breathing loudly, her body at once relaxed from another fulfilment and tense, filled with uncertainty and fear.

He could feel her hesitation, when he heard no response from her he lifted himself slowly on his arms, wanting to look at her face.

"− what I told that doctor is true − I want to change − want to be a person worth loving − I know I screwed up then −" He whispered, stroking her cheek with his large hand, she looked away, feeling her own body tremble, his thumb ran over her soft skin.

"− do you know what the real tragedy of this situation is? − that some part of me reciprocates your feelings − but I don't know how I could ever really trust you −" She whispered in a calm, low tone, feeling a lone tear of regret flow from the corner of her eye onto the pillow under her head smelling of his perfume, the adrenaline and endorphin stopped bubbling through her body, leaving only an emptiness inside her.

She felt him looking at her, completely unsure of what to say, his soft manhood still deep inside her.

He slipped out of her gently after a moment, standing up without a word, grabbing his trousers which were lying on the floor, standing with his back to her, putting them on, not even giving her a single glance.

She stood up too, clenching her lips so tightly that she felt like they were purple, her throat twitching all over in a sob that she didn't let escape, but she couldn't hold back the tears of horror, shame and disappointment that flooded her face.

She didn't look at him when she left, when she ran down the stairs and simply left the building, moving in front of her, trying to think soberly where she was and what bus stop she should go to in order to get home.

She heard a vibration in her backpack after a while, her phone ringing and ringing, but she didn't even take it out, not knowing what else they were going to say to each other.

It was obvious that he had never respected or taken her sister seriously, and while it was obvious that she wanted him, she couldn't believe that the depth of his feelings were actually that great.

She felt that he had talked himself into this feeling, mythologised it and also her character, creating in his mind a tragic story of two lovers who had always been destined for each other, to further distance himself in his mind and mock her sister's personality.

She arrived home pale but refrained from crying in front of her parents, she explained that she felt sick and would go to bed early.

However, not half an hour passed and she heard the screech of tyres on her driveway, she got up to the window and took a few steps backwards, startled to recognise his car, her heart was pounding like mad, her throat squeezed so tight with fear that she felt like she was going to vomit.

Will he tell them everything? Will he humiliate her in front of her parents, entertain himself at her expense now? Will he take revenge?

She ran quickly downstairs hearing raised voices, his, her father's and her mother's, her mother clearly outraged at the sight of him and his insolence.

"How dare you show up here after all this? Have you no shame?"

"Did your younger daughter get home safely?"

"It is none of your business, young man, you are to leave our house immediately!"

Said her mother, enraged and heartbroken, her father threatened to call the police on him, but he lifted his gaze hearing her footsteps and spotted her on the half-floor standing on the stairs.

Something changed in his gaze, she saw that he swallowed hard, in his eyes pain, fatigue, regret and something else from which she ran out of breath.

"Thank you. I've already found out what I wanted." He said lowly, turning and simply walking away, closing the door behind him, her parents looked at her in disbelief, they heard the sound of the engine firing up.

"What did he mean? Why was he asking about you?" Asked her father, and she looked at them with her eyes wide open not knowing what to say.

Did he come just to check that she got home safely?

"He goes to therapy. He asked me to go with him. He didn't want to be there alone." She told only part of the truth with shame, having no strength to pretend any longer, her mother froze, looking quickly at her father and then back at her, her eyebrows arched in disbelief.

"After all, this man is unpredictable, look what he did to Alys. He's made her dependent on him, like a parasite he's put the idea in her mind that she won't be able to live without him."

"And she did the same thing to him."

"What?"

"Alys was doing the same thing to him. He was showing me messages from her, mum. Sent from her number. That's why I went with him." She mumbled out and burst into sobs again, covering her face with her hand, her pain and despair finding an escape at last.

Her mother seeing her condition moved towards her and hugged her, in her embrace some kind of understanding, her father looked up at her from below with his hands placed on his hips and sighed heavily, shaking his head.

"Alys can't know."

For the next few days neither he nor she made contact. Some part of her was grateful to him for not pressuring her, for letting her put it all together in her head.

She herself did not know what she felt.

On the one hand, caution prevailed in her in his presence, she had the feeling that she was still waiting for some blow from him, an unexpected hit that would break her and prove to herself that he had been playing with her all this time for his own entertainment.

But then she remembered their conversation in the university courtyard, what he had said at the psychiatrist's.

I think that I'm in love with someone.

She read their long exchanges about poets, writers, but also about their thoughts and their lives, trying to find any trace of a lie or manipulation in them, but was pained to find that, although it may have been due to a lack of distance, she did not find it.

She no longer knew what was truth and what was a lie.

The last extra classes of the semester were open lectures she was attending with him, she knew they would be discussing Trans-Atlantyk and she thought maybe that was a sign.

She reasoned that if he didn't turn up it would mean that he had given up, that he had been disappointed with her and got bored and that she could move on at last.

She had arrived earlier than usual, wanting to borrow some books from the library for the holidays, standing at one of the bookcases she spotted him from a distance sitting alone at a table, bent over a thick volume, even though it was still half an hour to class he was sitting in the same seat as always.

She felt the heat fill her body, her heart began to pound like crazy due to some incomprehensible joy at the sight of him.

She moved towards him with several tomes in her hands and sat down next to him, they did not greet each other, however, she felt his gaze on her, his warm breath on her skin.

She turned her face towards him and noticed that his healthy eye was all red, his lower lip trembling, as if he didn't believe she would come, that he would ever see her again.

Something in that sight, in the tear that ran down his cheek made her lay her head on his shoulder, snuggling her nose into his neck, she heard him draw in air greedily, his hand rose quickly and touched her cheek, his fingers twitching, stroking her soft skin with a gentle, tender motion.

She put her arm around his shoulder and stayed like that, feeling strangely calm and safe, she felt him place his cheek on the top of her head, she could hear his broken, rapid breathing, his lips placing a tender kiss on her hair once in a while.

She turned her face towards him, heard only his quiet, low sigh as their fleshy lips found each other in a sticky, hot, wet kiss, his large hand holding her face in place, not allowing her to move away.

She pulled away from him at last, stroking his well-defined jaw with her thumb, his gaze dark and hot, his lips swollen and red from their caress.

She returned to her earlier position without a word, sinking her face into the hollow of his neck, embracing his shoulder with her hands, he breathed quietly, sliding it out of her grasp, enveloping her waist with it, pulling her close so that she could hug his chest.

The tips of his fingers traveled down her back as he took the book that lay in front of him from the table top and placed it on his thighs, clearly wanting to simultaneously read on and cover up whatever was going on in his trousers.

They stayed like this until the class began when they finally pulled away from each other, his hand quickly finding hers under the table, stroking the top of it with his thumb.

Though doubts still filled her heart, for the first time in years she felt hope.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla

321 notes · View notes

iiseult · 16 days

Note

Oooh open requests! May I have King Baldwin with a wife reader who sweetly helps him treat his wounds regardless of how he tells her not to come into direct contact with his skin? Please, do it nice and fluffy, if it's not too much trouble! Thank you!

WEDDING NIGHT: Baldwin IV x reader

CWs → fluff, probable historical inaccuracies, she/her pronouns, leprosy, christianity and mentions of god, reader and baldwin just got married!

Note: This is the first request I've ever responded to! Thank you so much for sending it in, I really hope you enjoy! <3 Also this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away

Wordcount: 2k

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Baldwin was laying on his stomach with his bandaged arms and legs stretched out across the large mattress, and his face nuzzled into a plush pillow. The day had been strenuous for him, requiring much more standing than he was accustomed to, and his body ached terribly. Though originally just on his hands and face, the disease had recently spread up past his wrist and onto a small patch of his back, causing an uncomfortable burning sensation every time his clothing brushed against it. He was waiting for his physician to arrive and apply his nightly soothing salve, which usually helped to relieve some of the discomfort that resulted from the intense dryness of his skin. But when the door opened, instead of his physician, it was you.

Hastily, he sat up, looking around to find something to cover himself with. Besides the bandages wrapped around his ribcage, arms, and the middle of his face, the only thing he had on was a pair of white linen shorts. You covered your mouth and giggled as he scrambled to grab his robe from the nearby chair it was draped over.

“My lord, that really won’t be necessary. I’m only going to take it right back off once you put it on,” you said playfully, closing the door behind you and sauntering towards him. You were carrying a small basket in your left hand. He furrowed his brow and instinctually clutched the fabric to his chest, hoping it covered most of his exposed skin. A wave of heat rushed to his head, and he suddenly felt a bit dizzy.

“Lady Y/N– I mean, Your Highness, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice betraying his mild panic as his eyes followed you across the bedroom. You had changed out of your wedding gown in favor of a tightly fitting dress of a deep emerald green and a low neckline– typical attire for a bride on her wedding night. Heat rose to his cheeks as he admired his new queen’s attractive figure, on display just for him. He really hadn’t been expecting this. You had to know that, given his condition, consummating the marriage would be more trouble than it was worth, and attempting to sire an heir with him would be a completely fruitless endeavor. Why, then, were you standing before him, looking like the very picture of grace and beauty? You smiled gently at him, setting down the basket and taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Let me help you. Please, lie back down so I can take those bandages off,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. You waited a moment, but he only gawked, eyes still shamelessly concentrating on your choice of wardrobe. You sighed and placed a hand over his bandaged one, looking deeply into his eyes.

“I promise I’ll be gentle.”

He hummed sadly, shaking his head no, knowing he could not give you what you wanted.

“I believe that you would, but I cannot allow it. If you were to come into contact with my bare skin…” he trailed off. You bit your lip. You knew he wouldn’t agree to it.

He noticed your disappointment, and his eyes softened a little.

“Look at you, your skin is so pure…if anything were to happen to it on my account, I could never forgive myself. Not only because of the pain it would inflict upon you, but also for my own selfish reasons.” He spoke slowly, letting his words sink in.

“My wife, you are so beautiful, and so smart. You have so much to give, and you are everything I am not. If you were to put yourself at risk of becoming like me, you would be condemning yourself to a short, bitter life of wasted potential. Though I may not be long for this world, I want to spend the remainder of my days admiring you and all that you bring. Please do not forsake the gifts God has given you for fleeting desires of the flesh,” he begged. His blue eyes were so wide, pleading, swimming with genuine emotion, but it wasn’t enough to break you. You knew what you wanted.

“Baldwin,” you said, addressing him directly for the first time, “Just this once, please. Let me do this for you.”

You tugged lightly at the fabric bunched up in his grasp. He resigned, allowing you to pull it away and discard it at the foot of the bed, leaving his mostly bare chest exposed to your intimate gaze. No woman had ever seen this much of him before. He watched as your eyes traced his body, beginning at his delicate neck and protruding collar bones, then down to the smooth expanse of creamy skin covering his chest, and finally to his well-defined middle. Those parts of him had yet to be contaminated by his affliction. You had yet to ever come into contact with his bare skin, but the way you were studying him, he could almost feel the sweet sensation of your fingertips ghosting over his body.

“Y/N, I’m sorry if you had hopes of…enjoying a true wedding night with me, but I must be honest with you, even if it does cause me great pain and regret-”

You hushed him quietly, clasping his hand in yours a little tighter.

“No, my love, you don’t have to explain to me. I understand. That is not what I came for. I simply wanted to take care of my husband.” You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you gazed down at him lovingly. He let out a breath and untensed his shoulders, relieved that he wasn’t letting you down after all. The sight of you smiling down at him with all the love in the world melted his heart, and his resolve broke.

“Alright. But please promise me you will cleanse yourself thoroughly afterwards. We must do everything we can to prevent the spread,” he whispered, dropping his hand to allow you to have your way with him.

Slowly, carefully, you reached for him, stretching your fingertips out and finally grazing them against the middle of his chest. He inhaled sharply, watching in awe. Your touch was feather-light, but it sent a spark of heat straight to his heart. His skin tingled. Gently, you applied a bit of pressure, encouraging him to lay back. He stared into your eyes and refused to look anywhere else as he readjusted his position, locks of blond hair shifting away from his brow as he reclined.

“That’s it, just like that. Perfect. Now, just relax, I brought some oils and salves for you. I’m going to take this bandage off now, okay?” You said, reaching for his wrapped hand. He nodded, and you slowly began unwinding the linens, peeling them away to reveal the most decayed part of his body; his right hand. Any skin left intact on it was shaded by a grayish hue, and the rest was just angry, red, open sores. You fought the urge to wince, not because it disgusted you, because it didn’t, but because you empathized with Baldwin, feeling the pain he must have felt in that moment. The bandages you removed were dotted with blood and other secretions from the angry wounds.

You continued unraveling, all the way up his arm, and its condition gradually improved the further up you got. Then you moved to the other arm, repeating the same process. Soon, it was time to attend to the linens coiled around his torso, protecting the rash on his back.

“Can you sit up for me, please?”

He wordlessly obeyed, watching you work through his curtain of fine, golden hair. You scooted over until you were fully seated on the bed, face to face with him. He was suddenly glad for the bandage covering most of his cheeks and nose, so you didn’t detect the blush rapidly spreading across them.

You reached around with your left arm and placed your cool palm against his shoulder blade to steady him as you pulled away the bandages. He sat as still as possible, not sure what to do with himself. His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Your hand was so soft, so slow…it was lulling him into a trance. He sighed deeply, letting the air roll all the way through his lungs. You deftly unweaved the bandage with your delicate fingers, working swiftly to avoid any discomfort that the pulling might cause him. Soon, all that remained was his face.

Wordlessly, you slid a hand up the back of his neck and cradled his head in your palm, threading your fingers through his curls. He let his head fall back, confident that you would support him, and closed his eyes. A quiet rumble emanated from the back of his throat when he felt your fingertips brush his forehead. Then, you peeled off the last bandage, finally exposing the sensitive skin of his face to the cool evening air.

Yes, his complexion was blemished and inflamed, as you expected. His nose was red and dry, some of the skin flaking off completely. His lips were in much the same condition. A smattering of pink blotches covered his handsome cheeks. But to you, nobody had ever looked closer to perfect. You grinned and cupped his face between your hands, gently circling your thumb over his cheek. His pretty blue eyes crinkled up at the corners as he smiled back, letting out a short laugh he never meant to let out.

“You are such a beautiful boy, Baldwin. I love seeing your smile so much,” you said, tracing his bottom lip. That smile only grew as he closed his eyes in bliss. Your warmth was almost too much for him to handle.

“I’m going to apply the salve now, okay?” you asked, gently laying his head down on his pillow and reaching for a bottle from your basket.

“Mhmm,” he hummed contentedly. The smell of lavender and chamomile permeated the air as you scooped up a large blob of the salve and gently smeared it over his cheekbones. He sighed in relief as soon as it touched his parched skin, his pink lips parting. Soon, his face had absorbed most of the moisture, making him glisten in the candlelight like he was made of porcelain, and you moved onto his back, having him turn over. You ran your hands over the plains of his shoulder blades, massaging the tissue to help relieve any aches that may have built up. He groaned into the pillow in satisfaction. You smiled, continuing your ministrations.

Needless to say, Baldwin had never experienced anything remotely similar to this before. The way you handled him and didn’t shy away from coming into direct contact with the most afflicted parts of his body made his stomach do flips. Maybe he could get used to this.

‘I think I’m all done, my king. You can turn back over,” you said softly, putting the cork back in your bottle and stowing it away in the basket. Baldwin stretched leisurely and rolled over, hair partially obscuring his half-lidded eyes and crooked smile. He suddenly looked so young; only eighteen years old and he had already led an army.

“Thank you, love,” he murmured, reaching out to grab your hand, bravely intertwining your fingers. He figured the damage had already been done, and there was no harm in a few more precious seconds of warmth. So he swiftly lifted your hand and pressed it to his delicate lips, almost burning your skin with the lingering passion in his touch.

Now it was your turn to blush.

#king baldwin iv x reader #king baldwin iv #baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven #baldwin iv one shot #badlwin iv drabble #fluff #kingdom of heaven fluff #baldwin iv x reader #wedding night

149 notes · View notes

shares-a-vest · 3 months

Text

@steddielovemonth Day 25: Love is… Asking, “Do you want a blanket?” (Prompt by @thefreakandthehair)

wc: 952 | Rated: T | cw: Hospital setting, mild descriptions of injuries and general hospital stuff, physical pain, one mention of blood

Tags: Post-s4, Fix-It, Eddie Munson Lives, Hospital

'Hospital Blankets'

“Steve? Hey, Steve?”

Steve is pulled out of a restless slumber by Eddie’s stage whispering. A twinge in his back fully rouses him as he remembers exactly where he is – in Hawkins General, bent up like a pretzel on what is quite possibly the world’s hardest chair, wearing nothing but a hospital gown and his underwear. He blinks harshly, his vision blurry as he looks in the direction of the chattering, dark-headed form lying in the bed in front of him.

“Huh?” he grunts, his voice thick with sleep as he becomes very much aware of the overall pain radiating over his whole body.

His throat burns too, even from a single word. He instinctively reaches a hand up to the reddened scar there – already a formed habit – only to scratch himself with his patient wristband.

“Do you want a blanket?” Eddie continues, his weakened voice indicating he is barely conscious, let alone aware of Steve’s discomfort.

Steve arches his back this time but it causes his chewed-up sides to ache, the bandages stiffening and contorting. Their tacky borders pinching at the already tight skin and scar tissue.

He gives up and slumps back in the chair, clutching the armrests for dear life as a twang shoots directly up his spine to his head. He runs a hand through his hair, impossible to keep from flopping in his face considering all he can do is give himself a goddamn sponge bath these days.

He should have just listened to Robin (and more than a few disgruntled nurses) when they begged him to stay in his own room.

But his room feels empty. Big and dark, just like his family home but a little more white and clinical smelling. It gives him nightmares. If he manages to settle enough to sleep that is…

It’s kinda hard when your friends are scattered throughout the bowels of the local hospital, all in varying states of distress meanwhile, outside the world has half caved in.

“Steeeve,” Eddie whines this time as he repeats, “Do you want a blanket?”

He half dry-sobs his query and Steve has no choice but to shimmy upright – thankfully, the slippery cover of his stupid seat helps him up this time.

Blanket… he finally considers and finds himself stifling a shiver.

He didn’t think to bring a blanket with him as he was much too focused on getting out of bed and down the hall to Eddie’s room. A room that is much colder than his own, which the occupant clearly knows.

Eddie’s fist is balled up in his blankets, offering them up as he raises his shaky arm.

“No,” Steve says softly, shaking his head and waving him away.

Eddie needs it more.

With a herculean effort, Steve moves the chair a few inches closer to the bed, hoping it isn’t scraping the floor or tangling up any of the wires and tubes hooked up to beeping machines – god knows where they each begin and end. His sides all but seize up as he sits back down and forces himself to correct his posture.

“But you’re cold,” Eddie frowns, his voice impossibly small.

“I’m fine,” Steve protests.

Eddie’s weak hand punches at his banket in a haphazard swish motion.

“Get into bed with me…” he mumbles, closing his eyes, “Rest with me, sweetheart.”

His head lolls to the side and Steve huffs out a laugh. Eddie is certainly on one hell of a cocktail of meds, mixed with the overall exhaustion that must come from almost dying. Steve can barely keep his own eyes open and he wasn’t anywhere near as close to it.

His heart thuds in his chest as thoughts of Eddie’s almost lifeless body rush back to his sleepy brain.

Dustin’s sobs… Robin scrambling to tear up clothes and sheets from the Upside Down version of the Munson’s trailer to make bandages… Nancy forcing everyone to focus as she devised a game plan, stopping every few moments to shoot down undead bats…

Steve screws his eyes shut and stands, bracing his arms on the sides of the chair before swiftly moving them to the bed for purchase.

At least Eddie’s right side is a little less banged up – but only just enough, Steve thinks as he hikes back the three warm layers of blankets enough to sit himself down on the bed. He swings his legs up next, clenching his jaw as every muscle in his body aches and pains from what transpired however many days ago.

The bed is a tight fit, but Steve doesn’t mind. The mattress is perhaps a fraction more comfortable than the chair, but he soon warms as he settles down and rights the blankets, smoothing them out for good measure and double-checking he hasn’t disturbed Eddie too much.

His body warms almost instantly as he rests his head beside Eddie’s on his pillow, positioned close enough that he can feel frizzed dark curls tickling his cheek. Eddie’s wispier than he expected and smells of the generic hospital soap – but at least the dried and caked-up blood is gone.

“That’s good…” Eddie coos, turning his head to face Steve, those tickling tendrils now replaced with a soft woosh of his breathing.

He can see the scar on Eddie’s cheek now. The bandage patch has been removed, exposing raw stitches today. Steve sighs, relieved by the smallest of steps forward.

Eddie can’t do much more than reach his hand out. And Steve takes it, interlacing their fingers despite the heart monitor clipped onto Eddie’s right index finger.

“Blanket’s... warm…” he mutters, nodding as he feels slumber tugging at him once again.

Eddie hums in agreeance and lightly squeezes his hand.

#i'm baaaaack (to posting - i've been sprinting my heart out)#big thanks to sandy for checking in and sending the positive vibes that got me back to writing 💖💖💖#steddielovemonth #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #healing steddie #(now lets see if i can remember my new tagging system)#tw hospital #tw medical #tw blood

205 notes · View notes

anantaru · 1 year

Text

JEALOUS! BOYFRIEND SCARAMOUCHE

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — jealous! boyfriend scaramouche headcanons

— ꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, gn! reader, clingy! kuni, a little sad, established relationship, he's your boyfriend, needs your attention, gets jelly easily but hides it, he‘s trying his best!!!!

jealous! bf scaramouche who is, admittedly and without dissembling, too jealous for his own well being. As a general rule, he himself does seldomly clutch onto his own clinging temper in circumstances rotating around your relationship because he directly backs off in wanting to admit it to himself that, yes, while it pains him to say it, he's honestly someone who gets jealous fast, in the twinkling of an eye.

jealous! bf scaramouche whose acute jealousy does not branch from a shortage of trust in his significant other, rather it arises from a gigantic section of profound uneasiness in his own heart. He himself would never waste a single thought on you taking his trust for granted or that you would undertake some kind of object to have him saddened, in a further way cause discomfort and burn his faith in you to have it suffer— which had been shown to be challenging and arduous in its unified form, remembering on how many times he had been betrayed in the past.

jealous! bf scaramouche who, without fail, wakes up in the morning before you do— with that he can adequately plan to welcome the sweetness of a new day (which he, before you, never even attempted) together with you firmly entangled in his pleasant arms. Speaking of such interesting morning ritual, kuni had a homelike rule of being almost insufferably close to you at all times imaginable— with a few exceptions being at night when you're sleeping soundly and changing positions, tossing and turning in whatever directions seemed comfortable enough.

jealous! bf scaramouche who cannot wait any longer for you to rouse yourself and smoother him with boundless attention— because he really needs it endlessly. He will meticulously plant warm kisses on your sensitive neck until you're fully woken up while gently shimmering his cold hand up and down your slumbering skin— so you can please please wake up already, kuni was getting bored and annoyed with his own company.

jealous! bf scaramouche who consequently raises his right brow in an irritated manner when he listens to your giggles post slumber, while you're excitedly telling him about your day and how overly packed it was. There could be many reasons but it's heavily implied to be the fact that he was, for one, inordinately keen and noisy, wanting to know what could possibly have you more excited than simply spending time with him instead.

jealous! bf scaramouche who will never become uncomfortably loud or start yelling at you, be belittling or display anything of those particular temperament to you— doesn't matter the circumstances at hand, he rather will keep his frame of mind and spirits to himself and listen closely on what you decide to share with him. Among other things he will not forcibly insert himself into your life or pressure you to pour forth what you do not want to, kuni trusts you the utmost in his life and would never want you to think or believe he doesn't.

jealous! bf scaramouche who will become outstandingly clinging and snug when you explain that you're meeting up with a close friend you haven't seen in a damn long time since he had been on adventures around various nations for quite a while now. If it comes to him, scaramouche would delightfully have you in the confines of your comfortable bed all day long with his arms warmly caging you in, his eyes appearing with clear, loving hearts around his irises.

jealous! bf scaramouche who will elatedly nuzzle himself greater into your neck and begin to complain about just how comfortable you felt like that, how he does not want you to leave at this moment and time. He will passively suggest to stay in— while he will also act like he doesn't care that much if you go, for yet another five minutes because deep down he's aware he will miss you the second you're getting up to get yourself ready.

jealous! bf scaramouche who will dramatically roll his eyes and huff out his exhaled breath when you promptly try to free yourself from his melting fondle to get to your bathroom. He's now only speaking one more sentence in a desperate attempt to make you stay or at least come back again for a short while, "what's so special about that guy?" he didn't need an answer— looking back at it he felt like he was just talking to himself. But despite that, he began to spiral back into his overthinking nature, he couldn't help it.

jealous! bf scaramouche who will— in contrast to his better judgement, end up following you to the bathroom like a lost puppy when you explain to him that your close friend kazuha was a nice person, a loving individual while you proceed to give him broad intel about all the trivial matters he had accomplished in the past.

jealous! bf scaramouche who will try to actively listen and strike himself as interested in your stories— given the impression and the change in his mood, a couple of the situations and tales he had already heard of, but now, the next irksome remembrance was crossing his wildering thoughts, not only was your friend holding onto those accomplished deeds, you were now, meeting that person.

jealous! bf scaramouche who will be within your view and hug you from behind, compressing his hands around your waist while watching you brush your teeth. His head was resting in your neck and while it wasn't possible for you to talk back, he continued his words with a bunch of nothings, passively responding and adding it with random engaging hobbies you could be doing with him today .. if only you would pass up on the offer to spend time with kazuha.

jealous! bf scaramouche will, all downhearted, press his lips together when he noticed how you didn't care and carried on with your morning routine, to the point where a small portion of thick wrinkles were delving into his forehead and around his brows. In this case, he most likely didn't fathom he was vitally squeezing his face together and remaining his jaw tightened that it began to strain him a little afterwards.

jealous! bf scaramouche who will get intensely snapped back to the present reality when you playfully snap your fingers in front of his face— his reaction was more than amusing, killingly funny. He kept his eyes on you with his irked up countenance when you had stopped brushing your teeth, softly dampening your face with a towel before cradling your head back, tenderly leaving your hands on his warm cheeks.

jealous! bf scaramouche who will become nervous, rightfully so and look a little flabbergasted when you smoother one kiss on his lips and name him cute— which had him flustered up in an instant, hiding said fact required all the more stored up power from him now. Kuni kept his hands on your hips and held you close, sometimes he could curse himself, quite literally, that he always managed to get so worked up over nothingness.

jealous! bf scaramouche who will then wholeheartedly apologize with a deep hum to you, yet not voice a clear 'i’m sorry', but you knew what it meant— his small mumble, and that he had continuous troubles to say it out loud, though you weren't precisely knowing as to why exactly he needed to apologize to you since he didn't do anything wrong— no matter to him, but scaramouche had developed a clear scare of losing you.

jealous! bf scaramouche who then senses how a large, hefty weight has been gradually lifted off his strained shoulders the moment you assured him, over and over, that it was okay and everything was alright, he had no reason to apologize, more so not one to be scared of you dropping your beautiful, flourishing relationship for another person. You ended it with asking if he wanted to join you both because kazuha wouldn't mind at all, you knew him and were aware that he liked making new friends anyways.

jealous! bf scaramouche who guarantees you that it's okay, after all you haven't seen him in a goddamn long time and the last thing he wanted to do now was ruin it. Especially, since he had proudly proclaimed to cook a nice, warm dinner for you once you're back from your meet up.

jealous! bf scaramouche who lastly grins into the next big kiss you leave settled on his plump lips as you walk out of the bathroom to put on your clothes. The grueling way of keeping his hands from you had been daunting him, the moment you slip off his touch kuni felt a freezing coldness all around himself again.

jealous! bf scaramouche who aside from dealing with his bored up self with you gone now, has to think of another momentous notion for this day because he had originally urged to follow you around in secret (he's trying, okay) but now that was not possible anymore, he promised to make you dinner and didn't think about the consequences of his own actions.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin drabbles #genshin headcanons #scaramouche x you #genshin impact wanderer #wanderer x reader #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fan fiction #genshin impact

2K notes · View notes

jadeddangel · 2 months

Note

lute with an exterminator reader? And maybe with some added angst of reader dying or getting extremely injured

"Just a few more breaths..."

Lute x reader

Summary: During the attack on the hazbin Hotel, you, lute's partner gets significantly wounded and is given the choice between saving you and Adam.

Warnings:Cussing, Graphic Violence, Talk of Death, abandonment issues, Angst

You and Lute were sharing short kisses in the alley, desperate for any form of touch from the other. It was only 15 minutes until the attack on the hotel, Lute had begged you to be left out of the attack to Adam but Adam made the decision to keep you in due to needing "all hands on desk". So, instead of training, Lute had been spending as much time with you as possible. She was terrified of losing someone who actually loved her, someone who didn't want to lose her..Lute held you closer to her body, nuzzling into your feathered neck.

It had been almost 15 minutes since you and Lute had separated, and the fight was well.. gruesome, bloodstained dirt that had developed into a deep covered mud. Lute and Vaggie were in a rough tossle in the hotel as they both fought for their lives and well.. love. As cracks began to litter all over the concrete walls of the Hazbin hotel, the walls began to Crack under the pressure of the aggressive fight between Lucifer, The King of Hell, and Adam, The First Man.

You were fighting against the cannibals, tossing them over your shoulder when they cane close enough to push their teeth into your body. You had lost chunks of your wings and arms when the cannibals had gotten close. Your body was in a searing pain from what seemed to be angelic weapon encrusted teeth that they had. But you hadn't given them the pleasure of hearing your cries and/or screams. You were probably bleeding out of major arteries, but at this point, your mind had turned off pain reptors to your body. That wad until you were starting to get dizzy from blood loss, it felt like you were dying all over again... and it was... scary.. you hadn't been scared in so long...

The building finally collapsed, and all attention was on the giant pile of rubble as you saw your girlfriend, Lute, dive out of the building holding her bleeding stub where her arm once was.

"Lute!!" You screamed, pushing the cannibals off of your bleeding body using your wings as best as you could to soar over to Lute helping her up out of pity. Lute stood and pushed you away from her, "Don't focus on me! Get that fucking brat of lucifer's!" Lute yelled not even bothering to look at you or your wounds knowing she wouldn't be able to stop herself from babying you, if she knew you were hurt.

You flinched and moved back from Lute and pulled your wings in. She had never yelled at you. Suddenly, you saw vaggie dive in and push Lute to the ground, both of them quickly wrestling for dominance. You were panicking a bit, causing you to drop your guard, allowing The cat demon, Husk, the opportunity to sneak behind you, holding one of his divine cards to your neck.

As if on cue, you heard Adam begin screaming and giving a speech, "No! You don't get to end this! I'm fucking Adam! I'm THE fucking man, and you're just some fucking clown or something. I started everything on Earth! All of mankind came from these fucking nuts! You all should be worshipping me! You ungrateful, disgusting, fucking, LOSERS!!!" Adam screamed at Charlie and the surviving demons and then suddenly and out of nowhere, Squelch!! .It was sickening as everyone paused to watch the large divine sewing needle piercing through Adam's gut. Lucifer poked at his own gut, "Uhm, you've got a little something, like right there" Lucifer didn't really flinch or show any form of discomfort. Adam fell to his knees and then onto his stomach, you heard Lute scream and push vaggie off of her, rushing to Adam shaking him and tuning him over letting out cries and screams. You couldn't bear to look anymore as you shifted your gaze to the ground, you were too scared to move to much knowing your throat could be slit at any moment.

Lute turned her gaze towards you, noticing the danger. She knew she had to choose between you and Adam. It was a blur. All you remember is falling to the ground suddenly and your neck burning with a ferocity that you had never felt before. Your hands gripped onto your neck, feeling the warm feeling of blood, "Oh.." he had barely missed your jugular and windpipe, but it still didn't hurt. You heard a loud scream and heard a Lute rush to you laying your head in her lap, "no no no no.. not you, please.. please.. I can't lose you and Adam.. I don't wanna choose.." Lute, let out sobs punching over your body. You reached up and held lutes cheek, "Hey hey.. don't cry.." You croaked out struggling to breathe and speak. You had never seen lute cry so much. Slowly, all of the demons around you connected the fact that you were, in fact, lovers from body language. Vaggie walked closer, "Lute.. I.. I didn't realize you guys were still.." Vaggie started. Lute held your body closer to her, gritting her teeth, "Haven't you done enough?!!" Lute yelled through tears, holding you closer to her body.

Vaggie hesitated and backed up, putting her arm out defensively in front of Charlie, though Charlie was quite far behind her. Lute's lip quivered and held you closer to her, "Hey Lute?... i-i.. if I don't make it..." You started feeling your vision start to go black. "No, no, don't.. I'm not gonna let anything happen! We made plans! We... we were gonna have dinner together..get a pet together.. you said nothing would happen.. you said you would be fine.. I can fix this.. I can fix this.. this is all my fault.. I should have pushed to let you stay..I-I can fix this.. This is all my fault!!.." Lute ranted, only to be caught off by your loud coughs and blood splattering on her face. "Lute!.." you yelled the best you could. Your body was trembling against your will. "It's not your fault, Lute, I... it's not your fault.." You repeated gripping onto Lute's feathered neck. Lute held you closer to her understanding that she had no control over this anymore.

You couldn't see anymore, "I love you L-... Lute.." You struggled as you breathed out, passing out, making your body go limp...

Ending 1(you survive):

You shot up as you awoke, and you held your neck, remembering the struggling to breathe and the pain of the cut. You were shaking in pain as your head was on a swivel as you looked around paranoid. You recognized where you were. It was one of the angelic hospitals, It was mainly just for injuries from training with the angelic weapons. You felt yourself relax as you finally felt the large amount of pain from all over your body. It was from the bites, the stabs, and... the... the wound that almost killed you... You swung your legs off of the hospital bed, looking around terrified. Wait.. where was lute?! She came too, right? She hadn't stayed down there, right?! Your mind was racing as you heard talking outside of the hospital room and them the door opening to the hospital room. Your eyes flipped up to the person who had entered the room. You held your breath reflexively before relaxing, seeing Lute's familiar face, "I... wait.. Lute?..." you whispered, your voice was hoarse from the lack of use. Lute rushed to you and hugged you tightly, pulling you closer desperately, "You're ok!!" Lute yelled in surprise, sniffling a bit as she began crying in happiness. Turns out you had been in the hospital for about 2 months and had gone into critical care multiple times due to your weakened immune system. After you had gotten released to be able to go home, you and Lute had gotten promoted as commanders of the exorcist army. You had adopted a little angelic kitten and named it Adam. It was your guys' way of mourning the loss.

Ending 2(Reincarnated as a demon):

You shot awake holding your neck and looking around searching for the destruction you had caused, but nothing.. You looked down at your hands and froze.. your skin looked wrong.. you weren't in pain, though.. you reached up to feel for your halo but didn't feel it.. instead, you felt 2 rough horns that were so sharp that you nearly pierced through your palms. You let out a hiss of pain as you got up. You still had wings, but they were black with red splotches where you had been bitten and where chunks had been ripped out. You looked all over your body, noticing that the pattern had carried over your body. You were almost pitch black in color aside from red that had been where all of your scars were. And then, you connected all the pieces and headed straight to the pride ring, trying to get back to Lute.. trying to get back home...

Ending 3(???):

You opened your eyes slowly, before squinting them, there was a bright light, it was almost like... the sun? Your eyes adjusted after a moment as you opened your eyes completely. There was tall grass and tall cedar trees... it was beautiful.. it was somewhere you and Lute had always talked about.. You were in a large clearing that was surrounded by flowers and mushrooms that didn't seem poisonous or harmful. You saw smoke in the distance as you slowly walked forward.. you felt drawn to it almost.. You slowly followed the flowers that had almost created a trail towards where the smoke was.. You followed the "trail" and found a pretty little cabin. It was perfect. You opened the door to the cabin, I mean, the place seemed safe enough so it couldn't be too bad.You opened the door to see... Lute? She was in the kitchen. The sunlight licked at the window, leaving a golden glow on the window paine since the sun was sitting on the horizon. Lute was pouring steaming hot water into 2 cups that were in front of her before looking up at you, "Welcome home my love, make sure you close the door behind you, we wouldn't want Adam getting out again" Lute laughed a bit, she seemed relaxed. You tilted your head confused at the name until you saw a golden, almost ginger colored cat approach you rubbing against your legs affectionately. You shut the door softly before picking up the kitten, "What are you making?" You asked quietly. "Wellll I didn't know if you wanted coffee or tea, so I made your favorite kind of tea!" Lute smiled at you brightly. She approached you, holding the cups before holding one out to you. You smiled, setting the cat down and taking the cup, "I figured we could cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie together, maybe?"Lute said. You smiled, "That sounds perfect.. we always did talk about how we could do that forever and how we never wanted it to end.." you muttered. You knew this wasn't real.. but you were happy... and you would be with her for the rest of time..

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin #Hazbin Hotel Lute #Hazbin Lute #Lute #Hazbin Hotel x Reader #Hazbin x Reader #Hazbin Hotel Lute x reader #Hazbin Lute x Reader #Lute x reader #Hazbin Hotel Angst #Lute x Reader Angst #angst #x reader #jaded works🪶

165 notes · View notes