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ghostboneswrites2 · 28 days

Text

Safer

Summary: After the fall of the prison and a brutal assault, Daryl cares for you.

NOTE (please read): A mutual requested this a while ago. Took a long while to write, and tbh I considered turning the req down given the premise and my firm stance on writing graphic SA which you can find here. However, they explained to me that they are a victim of a violent s*xual assault, and they expressed it would be healing in a way to have a story where they were cared for by their comfort character. After some consideration, I decided to go for it. I'm sure a lot of us have been victimized by people who couldn't control their urges, or those who lacked respect for our boundaries, bodies, and consent. Myself included. So, this story is for us, to those of us that can stomach it.

DISCLAIMER: There are no scenes of graphic SA, only the aftermath. While I will not be telling any descriptive scenarios of being assaulted, I do want to clearly express that this is a generally heavy story and it may not be suitable for all audiences. Please consume responsibly.

**I will not be tagging anyone on the taglist due to the content of this story**

18+MDNI || WARNINGS: non-graphic allusions to SA, violence, mild nudity descriptions, generally heavy content so I can't say it enough: TW!!!

Banners credited on my masterlist!!

Daryl's vision was blurred as he blinked himself to consciousness. It took him some time to gather his thoughts and recognize his surroundings. His wrists and ankles were bound together, his mouth gagged with a cloth that tasted of sweat and filth. He stared up at the treetops towering over him. It was dark outside, save for the dim light of a dying campfire a few feet away. He lifted his head from the forest floor and looked down past his feet. Lumps of sleeping bodies under raggedy blankets and torn sleeping bags rested around him. His heart raced as his memories crept back in; of you, screaming his name, of him fighting off the group of men who caught him off guard, of twigs snapping and a searing pain over the side of his head. Was that why his face felt so sticky? Was it dried blood?

His eyes strained in the fading light of ember and ash. Where were you? He noticed a crumpled form at the foot of a tree. Her breathing was shallow and her clothes were torn, pants not even pulled up over her bare behind. That much, he could see. His throat tightened. His eyes watered. What the hell had he let them do to you? How could he have let this happen? He had to get you out of there, and fast. If they hadn't killed him yet, that was surely on their agenda.

He began to squirm and writhe against his restraints. Whoever tied him up had experience. Just as hopelessness began to set in and cloud his judgement with fear -- real, genuine fear -- he noticed a reflection in the leaves. Just a few feet past his boots, a man was curled up on his side, snoring lightly in the calm breeze. His back was turned to Daryl, and behind him set a grungy backpack with a blade sticking out of the smallest pocket in the front. He glanced back to you, shivering on the ground, unsure if you were awake or unconscious or simply passed out from the exhaustion of prior events.

The sight of you in your disheveled mess was all her needed to kick him into gear. Carefully and hastily, he scooted himself down toward his only chance at redeeming his status as a loyal protector of the weak and vulnerable. Ideally, he'd be able to accomplish this in silence, but he was not in an ideal situation. His circumstances were heavy, laced in sweat and angst. The leaves beneath him rustled as his back slid across the ground, twigs snapping or moving to the side as he made his way closer to the large hunting knife. He'd pause between each scoot, studying the sleeping men around him for any sign of movement or wakefulness. When he'd decide the coast was clear enough, he'd resume. It felt like an eternity, but he made it there.

His core muscles strained as he sat himself up. He realized how sore he was. He must have taken a good beating. Seemed fitting, though. He was never one to go down without a fight. He left that sort of weakness in his past.

He guided his shaky, bound hands over to the bag. He slowly slid the knife out of the front pocket. His heart raged against his ribs. He didn't dare take a single breath until it was secured.

Slow. Slowness. Slowly. He repeated every variation of the word in his mind as he positioned the knife between his palms and dragged it back and forth until the rope finally severed. A silent breath of relief escaped him as he ripped the gag from his lips and worked on the rope tied around his ankles. When he was free, he stood and counted the sleeping bodies beneath him. Excluding you, there were four.

He considered waking you up and running for the hills, but he couldn't leave any loose ends. No, he thought of it like when your t-shirt has a loose thread. You could leave it to keep unraveling, or you could burn it at the base and extend the lifetime of your clothes. He decided he needed to burn this string before it could unravel any further.

Starting with the man closest to him -- the one who so graciously left his knife in plain sight for the archer -- he krept over and crouched down, plunching the blade into the base of his skull. Then, he moved on to the next, and the next one, and the one after that, until they were all a problem of the past. Until that pesky little thread could do no further damage to the rest of the shirt.

When the dirty work was behind him, he dropped the knife and rushed over to you. Your wrists were tied like his, but you were tied to the tree so you couldn't run. He eyed you over and gulped. With your pants not fully covering you and your shirt all ripped up, he could see the finger-shaped bruises littering your skin. There was blood on your inner thighs. Your lips were swollen and cut. His blood heated until it hit a boiling point. His hands trembled as they hovered over you. Touching you felt like a crime, but he had to wake you. He had to get you out of there.

"(Y/N)." He whispered as he laid a hand on your shoulder. You were shivering in the cool air, but a thin layer of sweat blanketed your exposed flesh. He gave you a gentle shake. "((Y/N), c'mon. We gotta go." He pleaded softly.

Your body jerked and you jolted awake. You gave him no chance to explain as you scrambled to your knees and cowered away against the tree.

"(Y/N) it's me. It's Daryl." He attempted his most soothing tone of voice. "C'mon, let me get ya cleaned up."

He outstretched his arm, offering you his hand. Without making eye contact you made a move to take it, but you were stopped by the restricting force of the rope that kept you anchored to the tree trunk. He moved quickly for the knife he tossed to the side earlier and returned with it. Without the pressure of remaining silent, he had your hands free in seconds.

He wasted no time helping you to your feet and averting his gaze as he slid your pants up where they belonged. He found he had a hard time keeping his mind straight and focused as your weeping filled the quiet campsite.

"Shh.." He cooed, keeping one hand on your upper back as he ushered you along with him to gather his things and yours. A smart man would have rummaged through the belongings of the ones he killed, too, but he wasn't concerned with making a smart call at that point. He was only worried about you.

"It's alright. C'mon. Let's get ya somewhere you can rest. It's alright. C'mon." He felt useless as ever, repeating the same generic words of comfort as you limped along beside him. He never urged you to up the pace, he didn't drag you along or have you carry your own bag. He felt like the least he could do was shoulder the weight of survival on behalf of you both. He couldn't get the image out of his mind of ou laying there,caked in blood, sweat, and bruises. A girl like you should have been caked in perfume and makeup. You hair should have been done up nice for a Sunday brunch, not matted with leaves and dirt. Your clothes should have been pristine and well fitting, unlike the filthy torn clothes that were beginning to hang off your frame like tender meat falling from the bone. You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve any of it.

Eventually he found an acceptable spot that looked like it could have been a den for a hibernating bear. It was a big shrub by a little stream, perfectly indented to give you both enough room to crouch under its foliage. He gently set you down, dropping his bow and your bags beside him. He crouched down in front of you and scanned you, worry written articulately over his features.

Your eyes remained glued to the ground. Your nose was upturned in disgust but your eyes told a different story; one of pain and despair and mourning for the person you were before that night. Your frown was deep enough to leave a scar.

"(Y/N)..." He breathed. Your eyes slowly found their way to his and welled with tears all over again. Of all things you had -- meaning, being alive and away from those men -- there was nothing you were more grateful for than his blue eyes staring back at you. You hated the way he looked at you with defeat and pity, though. You hated that he had one more thing to worry about. Still, he was there, and he was welcome. "Let's get ya cleaned up, okay?"

You nodded once, if absentmindedly. Your thoughts were elsewhere. You couldn't pinpoint their location, though. They were scrambled, swarming all around you, like gnats you couldn't swat away.

He pulled an old shirt from his bag and leaned over to the stream, getting it nice and wet before wringing it out. He turned back to you and brought it up to your cheek, gently dabbing and swiping away at the dirt, grime, sweat, and blood. He moved on to your neck and hands, then he paused. You both looked down at your jeans. You knew it needed to be taken care of, and he did too, but the question was really about which one of you would be brave enough to work on the gruesome scene between your legs.

One look at your expression and he knew it couldn't be you. But, how could it be him? He couldn't put you in such a vulnerable position. No, not him.

That's when the lightbulb went off over his head. The stream, of course.

"Here." He offered you a hand. You took it slowly and he led you to your feet. "Wanna get in the water?" He asked. You stared down at the serene flowing water, trickling just before your feet. He cleared his throat. "I don't gotta look."

You almost could have laughed. After everything that had happened, Daryl seeing you bathe wasn't really a concern. Still, you had to maintain some shred of dignity, and washing those men off of you was a much needed stride toward leaving that horrid night in your past. So, you nodded, and he turned away to start a fire where you could warm up after rinsing off.

The button was busted off of your jeans. You guessed they couldn't waste their time with something as simple as undoing a button. You let out a shaky sigh and gritted your teeth. You moved to bend over and slide your jeans down, but a searing pain shot through your insides. You whimpered. "I can't." You barely managed.

"Huh?" He asked over his shoulder.

"I can't." You spoke up with a tremble. "I can't get them off. It hurts."

His throat tightened up. Had they really been so cruel to you?

"Ya want me to..." He trailed off.

"Please." You whispered and shut your eyes. He stood beside you and pulled your pants down to your ankles, kneeling down as he did so.

"Grab my shoulder." He instructed softly. You did. "Left leg." He said. You pulled it out. "Now the right."

With your jeans off, he stood up and looked down at your face, which you his from him, avoiding his gaze.

"Your -- Uh.." He glanced down at your underwear. You nodded, not needing to see what he meant. He followed the same process with those and turned away as soon as he was done. You cleared your throat.

"Can you help me sit?" You whispered. He sucked in a breath. It wasn't that you were annoying him. Anything but that, actually. He was glad to help you in any way you needed. It was the simple fact that you needed the help that was eating him alive. The thought that those guys could hurt you in this way, to this extent, was infuriating and heartbreaking.

He turned back to you and hovered behind you, placing a hand under each arm to support you while you lowered yourself down into the water. Once you were sitting on the creek bed, you adjusted yourself and sighed.

"Just, uh, watch for snakes, okay?" Was all he could say before turning his attention back to the fire finally.

Your frown deepened as you stared down at your bloodied thighs. A plop beside you startled you before realizing it was just the old shirt he was using to clean you up.

"Figured ya might need it." He mumbled.

You gripped the cloth in your hand and stared at it. Blood and filth stained it. Your lip quivered as you ran it over your inner thighs, scrubbing your own dried blood away and watching it disappear in the gentle current. You hissed and winced as you cleaned yourself where you were really injured.

When you were done, you peered over your shoulder, where Daryl stared at the small flame. He felt your eyes on him and he looked up at you.

"Need some clothes?" He asked.

"Please." You replied. He nodded once and rummaged through your bag. He could only find a semi-clean shirt, but no more pants. He pulled his own bag forward and searched for the new two-pack of boxers he'd scavenged awhile back.

"I, uh, didn't see no more pants, but... You can have those." He said, holding your shirt and the fresh boxers out to you.

"Thanks." You pressed your lips into a thin attempt at a friendly smile.

He turned away again so you could change your shirt, but you needed his help with the boxers, which he did without you needing to ask, and without a single peek at you.

He helped you back over to the den where you could warm up by the fire. You kept the blanket in your bag, so he made sure to wrap it around your shoulders while you sat.

"Ain't got no food." He broke the silence after a little while. You nodded.

"Not hungry anyways."

"Mm." He hummed. "Get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

----

By midday, you were on the move again, trailing right behind him as he stomped slowly over the underbrush so you could keep his pace. He'd stop every now and then, and though he didn't say it, you knew it was because he didn't want to overwork you.

By late afternoon, the sun was on the far end of the sky, casting an orange glow over the woods.

Daryl had barely been able to look at you, and you couldn't exactly claim any different. You two had taken a break again, sipping water and scanning around for any game or edible plants.

"I want ya to know.." He cleared his throat, shattering the thick silence that glazed over you both all day. "I want ya to know I didn't see it. None of it."

"I know you weren't looking." You deadpanned.

"Nah, not at the stream. I meant -- I didn't see none of it." He clarified. He had a sneaking suspicion the reason you couldn't bare to look at him might have been the possibility of him seeing what had happened to you. He, however, just hated seeing you look so broken, knowing had he been more vigilant yesterday, none of those guys would have been able to sneak up on him. You looked at him finally.

"I know. They hit you over the head 'cause you were fighting them."

"Mm." He nodded. "I just... I need to tell ya I'm sorry." His voice cracked as he looked down at his hands and back up to you. His leg was bouncing anxiously and his gums must have bled from how hard he chewed at them.

"Why?" You pushed your eyebrows together.

"I shoulda been lookin' out. Shoulda protected ya. Shoulda--"

"You were. You have been." You cut him off. "You've looked out for me every day since the prison. You've been protecting me since the quarry. You protect everyone. That wasn't your fault." You insisted. He just looked back down at his hands and sniffled, blinking back tears. He scolded himself for being the one to cry, when you were the one who got hurt. "Hey." You pressed on. "Listen to me. You got us out of there. You took care of them. You saved me. Then, you still took care of me. If we were still back there, they would have killed you and robbed you by now. And, if they hadn't killed me yet, I'd be wishing I was dead. I wouldn't be here without you. I would have never survived even before last night without you, and I wouldn't be sitting here telling you that today if it weren't for you."

He looked you in the eyes as you spoke every word. It was a great relief to him that you weren't angry with him -- that you didn't blame him. Still, he felt so uneasy.

"Can we camp here?" You asked suddenly. He shrugged.

"Yeah. We can." He agreed. His voice was still broken.

"Can I sit with you?" You asked. He looked confused but he still nodded, even if he was unsure what you meant.

Ignoring the aches all over your body, you crawled over to him and sat in front of him, between his legs, leaning your back against his torso. He was stiff, unused to being so close to someone, but he didn't resist. As you settled in and got comfortable, he rested his arms by your sides.

"You didn't fail me, Daryl. Nobody makes me feel safer."

Join the taglist || Masterlist

#tw: implied abuse #tw: implied sa #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

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girlgenius1111 · 4 months

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you don't have to pretend with me

ona x reader -sickfic ish

from a request- the req was for r with chronic pain but i've never experienced that and i didn't want to write it incorrectly, so i changed it to something i have some history with :)

You hadn't had a real period in years, having been on birth control since you were a teenager. It really limited the effects of your horrible symptoms. It was simple- a shot in your ass every three months was something you could handle. However, you'd completely forgotten to get it this time. Normally you planned your next visit at the end of your appointments, but the secretary had been out, so you were supposed to call to schedule the next appointment. It had completely slipped your mind, and by the time your realized your mistake, it was too late, and they told you that you had to wait 3 months from when you were supposed to get it, in order to not mess up the cycle.

It didn't really make much sense to you, but you didn't have a choice. All you could hope was that it wouldn't be as bad as you remembered it. The first month wasn't bad, barely more than what you usually dealt with on the shot. The second month was worse, but still, manageable, especially considering it came during an off week. You were quickly approaching the third month, and you knew it wouldn't be as easy this time.

2 days before you were supposed to get it, you found yourself in a heinous mood. You'd been short with everyone, all day, even Ona. Ona, your girlfriend, who had literally no idea what was going on. It felt ridiculous to you, to complain about what was going on when every other woman dealt with it to. You'd never heard Ona complain about her period, and you didn't want her to think you were weak.

More than that, you weren't sure she'd believe you. In your last relationship, anytime you were sick or in pain, your girlfriend didn't believe you, or told you that you were being dramatic. You didn't really realize how this affected your relationship with Ona, but as you hadn't told her this, she didn't know you'd been hiding almost any sign of weakness from her.

So, you just mumbled something about having an off day when she asked why you were so grumpy. She pretty much left you alone the rest of the day, giving you the space she assumed you wanted. The only time she spoke to you was to come into the living room where you were curled up on the couch, and wish you a goodnight, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead.

-----

You woke up in the middle of the night to the sensation that someone was standing on your abdomen. It had been so long since you'd actually had cramps, you were almost alarmed, until you realized what was going on. You didn't want to get any blood on the bed, nor did you want to wake Ona up for something so trivial, so you quietly padded into the bathroom, changed your pajama shorts, and then headed out into the kitchen in search of some painkillers.

Every step was agony, and you were walking hunched over, as what you could only describe as lightning strikes of pain rippled through from your belly button down to your core whenever you tried to straighten up. You didn't make it to the cabinet you kept the medicine in, instead collapsing into a chair at the kitchen table. As soon as you sat, the zaps of pain were replaced by a continuous ache across your stomach, and around to your back.

You couldn't help the groan you let out, as you twisted uncomfortably in your seat to try to relieve the pain. It didn't work. You knew what would work, but you were absolutely sure you couldn't stand up again and make it to the medicine cabinet. Instead, you put your head in your hands, feeling tears slowly leak out of your eyes. That only made you more frustrated, which in turn made you cry harder, until you were trying to stifle sobs with your hands at the kitchen table, in the dark, at 1am.

-----

Meanwhile, Ona woke to an empty bed. She remembered you climbing in with her after she'd already gone to sleep, waking up just enough to roll into you and smush herself as close as she could. This time, though, your side of the bed was empty and cold, and Ona was disgruntled. Sleepy Ona was a grumpy Ona, something you knew very well, and she squinted her eyes open, looking over at the bathroom door, seeing if you'd just gotten up briefly. The light was off in there, though, and your side of the bed wasn't warm, indicating that you'd been up for at least a couple minutes. Sighing heavily, Ona sat up, intending to wait for you, arms crossed, to return to bed. When she saw no lights were on in the rest of the house, though, she decided to get up and find you.

The only thing she could think was that you'd gone to sleep on the couch, which didn't make any sense. You'd been grumpy yesterday, sure, but you'd gone to bed with her, and allowed her to snuggle up to you, which you wouldn't have done if you were angry. Walking down the hall, heading for the living room, she heard an odd noise in the kitchen.

She changed directions, turning right instead of left, and discovered you, slouched over at the table, crying softly into your hands. Ona was immediately distraught at the idea of you getting up in the middle of the night and leaving your bed to cry by yourself, no matter what the reason, and not waking her.

"Cariño, qué pasó?" she asked, voice raspy with sleep. At her words, your head snapped up, looking at Ona with pain etched clearly across your face. "Amor," she says sympathetically, moving forward to stand by your side.

"Oni, go back to bed," you try, attempting to sound firmer than you felt.

"Not until you tell me what is wrong." Ona replies, actually succeeding in being firm. She brushes a loose strand of hair off your face, then combs her fingers through you hair. You melt at her touch despite yourself, before you hunch over again, another wave of pain shooting through your abdomen; you'd straightened up to much. You whimper quietly, and Ona's hand pulls off of you, worried she'd done something to hurt you. That gets you talking, never wanting Ona to think she's the cause of your pain.

"It's just cramps, Ona, I'm fine," you insist, even as your face scrunches uncomfortably, and you grit your teeth through another jolt. Though confused, seeing as though she'd never known you to have bad cramps, Ona wraps her arms around you without another thought, lifting you easily to carry you back to bed. She may be short, but she prides herself on being strong enough to carry you easily, despite your many objections. "Oni," you whine, yet still, you clutch onto her tightly, resting your head on her shoulder.

"Shh, let's get you back to bed."

Once Ona gently places you back on your side of the bed, she stands back, looking at you with a determined expression. It's almost funny really, the girl standing in front of you, wearing a baggy t-shirt and shorts, wavy hair wild around her head, trying to look stern. Ona couldn't look stern, she wasn't capable. She could only ever look adorable, at least to you.

"What will help you feel better?" She asks.

You bite your lip for a moment, before the pain wins out over your independence. "Paracetamol, please," you murmur.

She nods once. "Anything else?"

You're sure there's something you're forgetting, but it's been so long since you've had cramps like this, and it hurts too bad for you to think straight. "I don't know," you whisper finally, tears spilling over again.

"Okay amor, relax, I will take care of you," the brunette says gently, leaving you with a peck on your forehead. She's only gone for a few minutes, but when she returns, you've curled yourself into a little ball on the edge of the bed, as far from her side as you could get, obviously trying not to bother her. Ridiculous, considering she wasn't going back to sleep until after you did.

She gives you the medicine, handing you a new cold water which you accept gratefully. Then, before you can tell Ona to get back in bed, she leaves the room again. She returns fast this time, holding something in her hands you don't recognize.

The defender doesn't explain, either, even though she notices the questioning look on your face. Instead, she climbs onto the bed behind you, and nudges you out of your ball to lay in between her legs, head resting back on her chest. Still silent, she rolls your shirt up, massaging the skin of your abdomen lightly. Her warm hands feel so good, you let out a sound of relief. Smiling to herself, Ona places the heating pad she brought with her across your abdomen, clicking it on. You soften completely against her, letting out a long sigh.

"Thanks, Oni," you mumble, and she kisses the top of your head in response. She isn't done with you though, patting your arm lightly when your eyes flutter close.

"Do you normally have cramps this bad?" she asks, because the thought of you hiding this from her, like you'd been doing tonight, once a month for the entirety of the time you've been dating, makes her nauseous.

"No," you tell her sleepily, briefly explaining the situation you'd found yourself in. Ona is quiet for a few moments.

"Why didn't you tell me? And why didn't you wake me up tonight?" she wonders, not able to fully hide the hurt in her voice. You're fully awake now, almost reading her mind as you realize what she's worried about; that you don't trust her.

"I didn't think it was a big deal," you say quickly. "And I didn't want to bother you with it, with something that every woman deals with," you justify.

"Amor, you hurting will always be a big deal to me." Ona insists. "You should have woken me up. Do you... do you not trust me? Did I do something to make you thing I would not take your pain seriously?" the brunette asks, and you wince at the question. This was your problem, not Ona's. Could she not see that?

"No, Oni, of course I trust you. It's... it's not about you." You pause. "I didn't want you to think I was being dramatic or weak."

"Why would I think that? Why would I not believe you when you say you are hurting?"

All she gets is a shrug in response, and she feels you shutting down again. Unwilling to let that happen, she presses you further.

"No, amor, tell me. Did someone make you feel that way? Like you could not be honest about how you were feeling?"

You don't respond for so long that Ona thinks you've fallen asleep, or just aren't going to answer.

"My ex. She used to tell me I was being dramatic when I was sick. She was right though, I was," you rush to justify.

Ona's arms tighten around you slightly, and it reassures you. When she responds, you recognize an angry tone in her voice, but also a protective one.

"That is not what a good girlfriend does. I will never do that. You are allowed to be in pain, and be sick. You are not being dramatic for feeling things. It does not make me think any less of you, and it certainly does not make me think that you are weak." Ona declares.

"Are you sure? I'd understand if you thought I was exaggerating." you say quietly. At this, Ona tilts your chin up and to the side, so she can look into your eyes.

"I found you crying at the kitchen table, you were in so much pain. That is not dramatic, not to me. I am sure." Ona promises, and she feels you relax against her, if only slightly.

"I love you," you say quietly, voice cracking on the last word.

"Te amo mucho, cariño. Mucho mucho." Ona pairs her words with several gentle kisses pressed into the side of your head.

"Ona?"

"Sí?"

"Can I go to sleep or will this light on fire if I don't turn it off," you ask seriously, referring to the heating pad laying across your abdomen. You've never used one before, and you aren't sure what the safety requirements are. Apparently, this is a dumb question, because Ona bursts out laughing, disturbing the quiet murmur of voices you both had been keeping to.

"Sí amor, you can go to sleep. I'll put you out if you light on fire, te prometo," she tells you, still laughing. You roll your eyes slightly before allowing them to flutter shut, even though you know Ona can't see the gesture.

"Wake me up if it starts to hurt again?" she asks, seriousness returning.

"Te prometo," you say, echoing her words for just a second ago. A grin tugs at Ona's lips at your spanish use.

"Bueno. Goodnight my pretty girl," Ona whispers into your hair, her use of an english term of endearment making you blush.

With that, both of you allow yourselves to drift off. You're sure, now, that Ona will not care if you wake her up. Ona is sure that you will wake her up. Or, that she'll wake up if you do, seeing as though you're sprawled on top of her. She doesn't expect perfection, or for you to start coming to her with all your problems right away. She finds that she doesn't mind having to demonstrate her love to you, though. If there's anything she loves to do, it's remind you, everyday, that she loves you unconditionally.

-----

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #ona batlle x reader

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changetyre · 4 months

Note

This may be way out there but could we get some Logan smut? TIA!

Need a hand? || Logan Sargeant x Reader ⒽⓌ

SUMMARY: Trying to relieve some stress doesn’t go as planned but you’re not complaining ;)

WARNINGS: **18+**

A/N: First time I write for Logan but somehow got this written in like 30 minutes so let’s see how this goes :)

Being young surrounded by incredibly intelligent people in what could easily be considered one of the fastest paced environments was far more stressful than you’d anticipated

It was a dream, truly. Being able to achieve that goal of working for an F1 team was still hard to believe yet you still couldn’t deny the stress from it all.

Despite this being a smaller team it almost seemed like stress levels were higher or maybe you still simply didn’t know how to handle the chaos of it all but now a days it seemed finding even a moment to breathe was hard enough.

You needed to relieve some stress, it used to work during your stressful school days so why should’t it work now. After hours of work you’d finally been able to get a few hours of somewhat a break that you knew how you wanted to spend.

Finding an empty room in the back of the Williams hospitality you tucked yourself into a hidden corner taking out your trusted little but powerful device.

Lifting your skirt up you raised your knees up to your chest opening yourself up nicely. You tucked your panties to the side taking a deep breath before running your finger down your fold a few times lubricating yourself with your own wetness.

It was embarrassing to admit how wet you’d gotten from the simple idea of pleasuring yourself but it’d been so long since you’d had some time for yourself you were desperate.

After only a few seconds of circling your fingers around your pussy you were prepared enough to press that blue bullet vibrator to your core.

You had to remind yourself to keep quiet as you let out a sigh of relief at that pleasure you so greatly missed feeling.

“Mmm” you quietly moaned as you pressed the device deeper into you. “Uh fuck.” You took a peak past the shelves checking no one was there and you were in fact still alone before you lost yourself in your own pleasure.

Only mere minutes had passed of you running that device around your clit, occasionally pressing a few fingers inside yourself that you’d found yourself in a daze, focused solely on reaching that high you knew would relieve so much stress.

You were so lost in yourself you’d failed completely to notice as the man you worked so closely to walked into the room, curious as to the sounds he heard in his preferred hiding spot Logan was quick to investigate the source of the noise.

A small gasp escaped his lips as he found you sat atop a cupboard legs spread, panties to the side as you pressed something to your clearly wet core, your head fell back onto the wall while your chest arched in pleasure.

Logan knew this was wrong, it was completely wrong for him to simply be staring at you…and further more enjoying it. He knew he should’ve said something already, probably stopped you but quite frankly he didn’t want to.

Aside from these thoughts all he could think about was replacing your fingers with his own and that device with his own mouth.

“Need a hand?” He’d no idea where this new found confidence came from but perhaps the desire for you was enough to make him ask.

You gasped in surprise before your face turned redder than the Ferrari from embarrassment at what you’d just been caught doing. You shut your legs although Logan didn’t fail to miss how the device remained tucked between them, still audibly buzzing.

“Shit I was- I didn’t-“ you had no idea what to say.

“I don’t care…let me help you.” Logan took a few step forwards and was prepared to step away if you showed any sign of hesitancy.

But instead he noticed how with each step he took your legs seemed to open a little wider. “We probably shouldn’t” you spoke but it was such a weak attempt at stopping this that you didn’t even believe it yourself.

“We don’t have to but I’m sure it’ll help us both.” Logan suggested and you could feel his breath tickle your upper lip as he looked down at you.

“I was almost there-“ your voice was barely above a whisper but it didn’t need to be louder with Logans proximity.

“I’ll get you there don’t worry.” Logan smirked before he joined his lips with yours. You could feel as his hand trailed between your legs pressing your own fingers holding the device harder onto your core.

You moaned louder this time but thankfully it was muffled by longs mouth on yours.

"You're so wet." Logan commented as his fingers slid up and down your slit a few times before inserting two fingers inside of you.

"Agh yes-" you moaned a little louder forcing Logan to connect his lips to yours once more.

Logan could feel you were close as you clenched around his fingers and he could feel your wetness running down his fingers and onto his palm every time he curled his fingers in you.

The noises in the room were pornographic, the heavy breaths between you both, the sloppy kisses, and the squelching of your pussy every-time Logan moved his fingers inside you.

This was far better than the relief you thought you'd be getting merely a few minutes ago.

"ah ah Log- Logan I'm cumming." you cried as you felt your high wash over you, harder than it had ever before.

Your body slammed onto the wall behind you causing the shelves around you to shudder slightly as you momentarily lost control of your bodies movements.

Logan moved his fingers slower and slower as you came down from your high, your body shuddering every few seconds with the remainder of pleasure.

"That was fucking hot." Logan smirked as he placed a quick kiss to your lips before sucking his fingers clean as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Thank you." you weren't sure why or if you needed to thank him but it just felt like the right thing to say.

"Pleasure." he winked. "Let me know when you need a hand again" he waved the hand that was just inside you around. "or anything else." he said subtly before walking out the room.

You might just have to take him up on his offer in the future.

#f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1fic #f1smut #smut #changetyre #f1 smut #formula 1 #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant smut #logan sargeant x you

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lonelystarrs · 1 year

Text

He’d Never Admit It…

You hated Gojo Satoru and he had a funny way of making it up to you.

♡ part one ♡ part two ♡ part three ?

Senior high school Gojo x FemReader

Warnings: 18+ NSWF . Bullying . Gojo being annoying . Oral receiving (fem) . Sexual Theme. Minors DNI.

God you hated him.

The worst part is Gojo Satoru knew this.

He knew he bothered you and he used it to his advantage, his constant teasing and taunting, his ability to pop up wherever you were with timing that was almost suspicious. He knew when to appear, he knew how to push your buttons and he loved it.

Winding you up was enjoyable for him. He’d done it since he met you when he was sixteen and you got paired together for a small project. Even now at eighteen he wasn’t showing signs of letting up on what you’d call bullying, he was sure he’d miss it when you both finished senior high school, after all this was your last year so he was determined to carry it through until the end.

He’d pull your hair in the corridor, your head jerking back and almost falling backwards from the sudden unbalance, your arms would fly out in front of you as to try to balance yourself again. Sometimes he’d tug so hard you would fall back on your ass by his feet, he’d lean over you with his hands in his pockets. He could have caught you -but he never did.

“I’m handsome from all angles right?,”

“What’cha doing down there?”

Would be his way of acknowledging it, of taunting you about it knowing full well it was his fault.

Thankfully you rarely did fall. More often you’d spin around he would also look around suspiciously like he was trying to find the source that did it.

“Did you see that? It disappeared around the corner!”

“I know that was you asshole!”

Gasping dramatically his hand flew to his heart, faking a pained expression at your accusation and insult.

“It was not! I’d never do such a thing, the only time I’m gonna pull your hair is if I’m behind you and-“

“-Shut up!”

You’d sputter loudly storm off flustered and he would cackle, you’d hear it even over your own stomping because it was the most obnoxious noise you’d ever hear in your life. 80 year old you would still stand by that you were sure of it, this pricks laugh would haunt you forever.

“Yo Satoru, picking on the weak again?”

You’d hear Geto as he joined his friend, after all he was never far behind. He’d let it happen even if he thought Gojo was going too far, even if you ended up with tears glistening in your eyes from Gojo telling you that you were weak and should give up. But Suguru never seen that Satoru wasn’t far behind to wipe the tears away in his own way.

You hated that he worked his way under your skin in a way that made you rattle on the inside until you physically felt like you were going to burst. How the combination of hate and frustration rose you to a level of frustrated need only he could give you. He’d wind you up to the point of tears only to kiss them away and lull you into releasing your emotions on him.

You hated those blue eyes that everyone loved -that everyone worshiped. You hated them even as they peered at you over the rim of his glasses, that were currently steaming up from his breath fanning against your clothed core. His tongue working a circle around your clit as his large hands pushed your skirt up to your hips.

“See? You’re so wet you sooo wanted this. Annnnnd y’wore these pretty panties knowin’ they’re my favourite on you~! So risky wearing these to school all f’me.”

“I-I didn’t wear them for you!”

“Oh? Y’wanna let all the other students to see what a slut you are wearing these during classes huh?”

“S-Shut up asshole!”

Gojo chuckled, feeling it vibrate on his tongue against you as he gave an opened mouth grin, blue eyes dancing in amusement.

You rolled your eyes and huffed out in annoyance, the hand in his hair gripped as you pushed him against you again, the legs over his shoulders resting down his back pressed him forward muffling his laugh. -He loved it when you stood up against him like this, took control and almost made him into a little pet. Maybe it was a phase he was going through as being dominated wasn’t his thing, after all he had a god complex and liked being known as one of the strongest around.

But there was just something about when you took the reins like this, it kinda made him feel better for upsetting you. Maybe it was a silent apology for pushing you too much again, maybe it was him saying that even though he is your source of upset that he can be the one to also be the source of your high.

He’d make you feel better, he’d always make you feel better.

He’d carry on teasing you everyday until you got so angry it would crumble into this situation -on the desk in your class room, in janitor cupboards or anywhere he could pull you in that was risky because he was cocky about it.

Your makeup had smudged slightly at your eyes from you crying earlier, his cheek still stung from the slap to his face and the hollowing of his chest over seeing you crying hadn’t quite left yet.

But it always got you where he wanted you -between your legs whether that be his face or his own hips nestled against yours watching you cry out under him.

Pushing that silly little skirt up to your waist, opening your shirt just enough to pull the flimsy bra down to suck on a nipple, just enough to watch one bouncing with each thrust.

He’d never tell you he lost his virginity to you, he’d never tell you that each time with you meant something and he’d never tell you that he’d hit himself internally for how he treated you.

He knew what he was doing but he just couldn’t stop.

You made him feel awkward, you made him feel insecure and you made him think things that contradicted his outer personality everyone knew him for.

The fact he was jealous today because he seen a guy flirting with you at the end of class, it annoyed him that he heard you say you were single, that no you weren’t dating Satoru because what idiot would.

So Gojo waited by the door watching the students pour out, his arms crossed, one leg bent with a foot pressed against the wall he leaned on and a frown on his face. You always were last out of the room because you hated crowds, when you appeared he span, grinning at you with his arms leaning on the door way blocking you from leaving.

He seen your face drop.

“Sooooo,”

You rolled your eyes and tried to push past him, he blocked again by swaying his body in whichever side you tried to leave from.

“Move Gojo, I don’t have time for you.”

Gojo hummed and lowered his arms walking at you, making you step backwards.

“M’sure you can find some time like you made for dipshit earlier,”

You sneered at him rolling your eyes,

“Jealous Satoru?”

“Pft, over a lil easy school girl like you? Nah, c’mon I have plenty of options.”

His eyes widened when your hand hit his cheek, he wasn’t even looking at you but over your shoulder shocked that you actually had just slapped him.

His gaze shifted slightly to look at your face, tears brimming in them and he felt somewhat guilty for thinking they always looked so pretty like that. You were trying to glare at him but it was difficult to combine it with holding back your upset.

He felt even guiltier than his dick hardened in his pants at the slap, the sting fired across his skin and a foreign rush ran through his body. New link -unlocked.

“Do it again,”

His voice lowered and he watched your eyes widen in confusion, the tension leaving them so a stray tear could finally fall and hang from your cheek.

“W-what?”

“Slap me again,” he replied quickly and firmly.

You’d tried to fight him but he easily walked you backwards until your legs hit a desk, a random one in your mind.

Gojo knew it wasn’t, he picked this desk particularly because this desk was the guy who was asking about you.

The whole spur of jealousy was what lead to this.

But he’d never admit that to you.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming Go-fuck, fuck, fuckkk.”

Satoru grinned against your lace panties as he sucked on your clit through them whilst rolling his tongue.

“Yeah? Gonna leave a mess over this desk pretty? Think you should leave a lil’message for’em tomorrow.”

Your hips lifted but he followed, making sure to wrap his lips around your clit and suck, his thumbs massaging your hips trying to keep you in place. His blue eyes drinking in as you leaned your head back one hand gripping the chair until your knuckles turned white, your other hand gripping his hair and pushing him into you. Your head falling between the space of the desk and chair.

Your back arched from the desk and he couldn’t help but skim his hands up your sides to grip them, thumbs now massaging small circles just under your ribs as his fingers rested in the arch of your back. Your hips started to roll and he knew to soften up his tongue so you could ride out your orgasm better, easing you down from your high instead of letting it just slip away.

He watched your tits rising and felt your ribs contracting as you let out soft sighs at his almost uncharacteristically considerate actions. -his silent apology was being like this with you, slowly dragging your orgasm out by lightly rolling his tongue on your clit. - wanting you to remember how good he could make you feel, that it wasn’t all bad because he knew his behaviour would upset you again tomorrow.

He felt your hips give the first twitch of over stimulation and he backed off, placing a kiss to your clit before looking down at the gradual wet patch appearing as your hole clenched around nothing.

Gojo frowned, perking his lips to a pout realising your underwear was in the way ruining his plan, hands moving down quickly he gripped the sides of your panties and pulled hard.

The sound of fabric ripping caused you to shoot your head towards him wide eyed at his actions.

“The fuck are you doing? Gojo!!!”

Your hands scrambled to his but he slapped them away with one hand, the other stuffing your panties into his pocket.

Your legs over his shoulders kicked at his back in an attempt to straightened yourself up.

Swiftly he shifted, using a large hand to pin your hips down by pressing on your stomach and the other towards your dripping hole, he circled it with his thumb watching the clear cum slowly spilling from you.

“S’not messy enough,” he whined, whilst pushing his thumb in feeling your clench around him and hands on his head trying to push him away.

“Looks like we gotta get another outta ya!”

The next day went it’s usual course, he’d find you first thing in the morning with Geto beside him and he’d tease you like he meant it. He’d watch the heat creep over your cheeks because you always got flustered the day after anything happened between you both, it would disappear gradually until you got angry again.

Gojo sat at his desk man spreading as usual, his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he leaned across the table, consumed by boredom already and first class hadn’t even started.

“The hell is this on my desk?”

Brilliant blue eyes side glancing at the very guy who was asking about you yesterday.

“Man, what is that? Someone spill their juice on it or somethin’?”

“-Yeah maybe! It’s kinda sticky and smells sweet.”

Oh you really were sweet, one of Gojo’s favourites sweets in fact and it made burying his face between your thighs so pleasant.

Something else he’d never admit to you.

Satoru leaned back in his seat, swinging his arm behind it and twisting so he could look at you sat at the back with your face in your hands.

Whipping his phone out his thumbs moves quickly on the screen to send you a text and he enjoyed watching your face fall reading it, heat rising to those cheeks in a dusty pink.

Turning to glare at him whilst throwing him the finger.

Satoru > I told ya! You taste sweet! :p

God you hated Satoru Gojo.

Part two > here

#gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo smut #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen x reader

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honeybeedrabble · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 10: Cheating - Sasuke x AFAB!Reader

CW: Sasuke x AFAB!reader, cheating sasuke, guilt, sex pollen venom, dubcon (maybe ??), unprotected piv (don’t be stupid), multiple creampie (again don’t be stupid), oral (m receiving), overstimulation, rough sex at the end, breast play, improper use of genjutsu, mention of pricking reader with kunai to release genjutsu, lmg what i missed !!

18+ MDNI

You and Sasuke were sent out on a mission to capture a rogue ninja from just beyond the hidden leaf. There were sighting of her in the land of fire, so you two were scouted out for days, searching for the genjustsu user. Finally you two had tracked her location- more specifically you did. Sasuke had left you alone for only a few minutes when you were ambushed. The woman appeared out of nowhere throwing a kunai at you, which you were able to dodge.

“Thank god that pretty boy left you alone, I was nervous I wouldn’t get the chance to fight you!” She sneered. You lunged, weaving fire style hand signs- something you were told she was weak against. She gasped, getting struck by the small embers that emanated from your attack.

The genjustsu user was quick on offense, spraying a water style attack to combat your first move. Steam surrounded you, and you were alert, ready for her to pop out at any moment for whatever she had left. You could sense the enemy’s chakra behind you and when you turned around she sprang out. She was quick, but no match for your reflexes.

You grabbed her by the arm and threw her down to the ground, she crashed into the dirt with a grunt.

“SHIT!” She gritted through her teeth. You were about to land the finishing blow when suddenly you felt a vine creeping up your leg.

“W-What?!” You were shocked, rose vines growing from nowhere and tying you up, the thorns piercing your skin and where they had punctured you, you felt a burning sensation, far beyond just a simple wound.

“Earth style- roses temptation genjustsu!” She exclaimed. You fell back, the thorns creeping up higher and higher up your thighs. You felt your core tighten and your body temperature raise. You were starting to sweat, a painful arousal stirring in your loins almost immediately.

You heard you name being shouted from beyond the tree line. The genjustsu user swore, before making a break for it. You saw your comerade rushing into the scene, watching you writhe in lustful agony.

“What did she do? How did she hurt you?” Sasuke asked, kneeling down worried at your side. He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and you felt electricity through your veins from the simple touch.

“Ngh- AH!” You moaned loud. “S…She said it was a genjustsu…” You were able to make out. Sasuke grabbed a kunai from his side pouch, slicing the growing vines off of you and pricking you with the sharp tip to try and break the genjustsu. You let out another moan, thighs clamping together tightly. Sasukes eyes widened, he swallowed deeply, you watched mesmerized as his adams apple bobbed up and down before he licked his lips.

“It… It’s not working. It hasn’t broken…” You whimpered, feeling a drop of arousal coat the inside of your panties. The sensation alone was enough to have you arching your back. “S-Sasuke…” You gasped, writhing in the fluffy grass.

“I-I don’t know what to do… Ive never seen… this kind of genjustsu before!” His face was red, and he clutched the kunai tightly. “I’m going to find her and force her to break it-“

“No! D-Don’t you dare leave m-me like this…” You said with fear. “Sasuke I need your help… P-please. It hurts…” Tears ran down your eyes, your hand rested on your breast as you played with it to release some tension. You moaned, biting your lip and looking up at the Uchiha man through your eyelashes.

Sasuke couldn’t deny he was at least slightly aroused by your lewd display, begging him for “help” which he knew meant was to fuck you. He watched you cry and thrash against the ground, your face red with embarrassment while you were at your most desperate with carnal desires. His comerade was in trouble- how could he deny her the help she needed?! Especially when you’re in oh so much pain… The guilt sat heavy on his mind, needing to fuck his partner while his wife was at home worried about his well being.

Before he could make up his mind you got up and pounced on him, bringing him to the ground. He gasped, feeling you grind against his erection between both your layers. You moaned, the feeling of his hard member against your pained clit was a relief like no other. Watching his face redden while you were on top of him only turned you on more. He let out soft sounds, his hand resting on your waist as you rolled your hips into him.

“Ngh- i-it’s just a genjustu. It’s all in your head, you have to fight it!” Sasuke stammered, although his hips rutting back against you was telling a different story.

Pins and needles were all over your body, your cunt was aching to be filled by him- you needed to feel the stretch of cock on a carnal level, tearing at his shirt, crying through the pain of your animalistic craving.

“It’s doesn’t feel like one…” you huff, his shirt coming off and revealing his muscular abs. Sasuke sat up, his hand coming off of your waist and tangling in your hair.

“You… we… need to fight it…” he said softly, face inches away from yours.

“I can’t think straight Sasuke… I need you.” You closed the gap, lips crashing into his own. He didn’t follow his own advice, tanging his tongue with yours the second he was able to slip past your lips.

You pulled your shorts off, then reached for his pants and unbuttoned them, zipping his zipper down and tugging his boxers waistband to the side. His cock sprung loose, his angry red tip lathered with precum. You bent down and shoved him down your throat, he grunted, pulling your hair.

You shoved him down the back of your throat, playing with your cunt from outside your panties. You felt your slick seep through, making your fingers slippery. You used that hand to fondle his balls, starved for his cum.

“Ngh- ahh- shit. It’s t-too much… I… I can’t…” He whimpered, shooting a fat load into your mouth. You gratefully swallowed, playing with your pained pussy to release the tension. The heavenly taste of his salty spend on your tongue was enough to have you seeing stars, plunging your index and middle finger into your weary hole, pulsing around your fingers.

You kept sucking, his legs twitching as you sucked him dry and then some. His eyes began to water, moaning your name to you in the forest. His mind was racing, thinking about Sakura, wishing she had this kind of a mouth on her. He felt awful, drooling over the feeling of your sloppy sucking and comparing it to that of his wife. He felt even worse, knowing yours was better.

“I- oh fuck,” He stammered, eyes threatening to roll back. “I-Is that it? Is it over?” He asked, pulling you off his dick, watching you lick your lips. You shook your head.

“It’s worse now,” you blubbered, face red. Your eyes were still full of tears, a pained expression on your face. Sasuke wanted to help you- really- but he felt awful at the idea of fucking you.

“I…”

“I know, I know. I’ll do the work, just please Sasuke! My fingers can’t get the job done, it’s hell! My skin feels like it’s burning.” You threw your compression shirt off, tits spilling out. His eyes were fixed on them, you felt his cock harden underneath you again.

“Make it quick…” he muttered, licking his lips.

You quickly mounted him, stuffing his girthy cock into your sopping hole, moaning loudly as you took him balls deep. Sasuke grunted, ashamed of his reactions as he twitched inside of you. You rocked back and forth on him, clit brushing up against his dark hair and your jaw hung loose as you coated his loins with your arousal.

Sasuke stifled a moan, watching your tits bounce up and down as you rode him. He attached his lips to your hard nipple and you cried, pushing his head deeper into your breasts. He licked at your tits, silencing his groans into your chest, embarrassed he was so sensitive from a woman who wasn’t even his wife.

“FUCK! Y-yes sasuke! M-More!” You yelped, feeling your core tighten as your thighs shook.

You came desperately, choking his shaft with your velvety walls as you leaked on his lap. Sasuke moaned, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead while you pumped yourself on him, using his hard cock like he were a simple toy. It was too much for him, he shot hot spurts of cum deep inside of you, your toes curled and you clamped you eyes shut, feeling the euphoria from being so unbelievably stuffed.

It was so perplexing, never had Sasuke been fucked so desperately, this type of sexual energy he wasn’t used to and all he could do was curse himself for enjoying it so much.

He panted, falling back, hitting the ground with his spine as he waited for you to get off of him. But you didn’t. You sat on his cock, breathing heavily with your hands splayed on his chest. While you felt slightly better, you were still at the mercy of your arousal. Sasukes eyes shot open as you slowly started bobbing up and down his shaft again.

“W-What? That’s not enough?” He asked shocked, brows furrowed as your hips rose and fell back against him.

Your eyes were still red, face scrunched into a tortured grimace, teeth gritting as you kept at it.

“N-Not even close.” He let out a whimper, biting his lower lip as he watched his sticky cum leak out of you and stick to where your sexes met, stretching into a stringy mess when you came off, just to pool again when you came down on him.

He threw his head back, hips thrusting into you against his will, diving his overstimulated cock into your tight, wet cunt, bottoming out with a shudder each time his tip hit your hilt. He grabbed one of your tits, thumb rolling over your nipple eliciting a growl from deep within your gut.

You threw your hands on the ground, one on each side of his head. You began to ride him faster, sounds of moans and the slapping from your wet skin on eachother filling the woods. He cried out your name panicked.

“Please! I cant… oh god…” Sasukea legs twitched, hips hitting the grass as he lost his energy.

“Sasuke, m’so sorry,” you mewled. “I’ll be good, just let me do this.” The stretch of his cock nestled deep inside of you felt too good to be true, scratching the itch deep inside of you.

“Soooo…. g-good…” He moaned, regretting his words. This was wrong… he knew it was. Balls deep in his sexy comerade, Sakura had no idea. The worst position to be in, yet the best position to lay down and take some wet pussy after a lengthy mission.

“F-Fuck!” You cried, ripping out a few blades of grass while your assed bounced on his cock with fervor. Soon enough you were a moaning mess, cumming around his member with passion. Sasuke thrashed, feeling you tense around him again. He was so tired, he couldn’t cum again, but the scene was so erotic he felt like he would’ve right then and there if it wasn’t for your appetite.

The burning was back and you screamed, tired of the poison that was seeping through your veins, the poison that made you a cock crazed lunatic. Sasuke was tired too, more so than you. He knew whenever he fucked Sakura next that he would be thinking of this- thinking of you. In the heat of the moment, watching your fucked out face produce a gut wrenching scream he decided that if this moment would fuck up his life forever, he would make it worth it.

Sasuke quickly got up, throwing you to the ground with this powerful arm and grabbed your hip with it. Your eyes widened, watching him lower his pants further before grabbing his cock and parting you in two with his smooth tip. You yelped, scratching his back as he finally gave you the sensation you needed.

“Ngh- GOD YES!” You cried, his dick was pumping in and out of you with an almost violent vigor. He fucked you the way he wouldn’t treat his wife, grabbing your tits and slapping them while he pummeled you. It felt amazing, you propped your head up, watching how his cock disappeared inside of you, only to bulge in your stomach the moment he reached your hilt.

“Fuck- So fucking good….” It came out as a whimper, then an animalistic groan when you threw your hips into his, meeting him whenever he thrusted inside of you.

“Thank you Sasuke, your cock s’fucking good,” tears rolled down your face again and he smirked, licking them off your face before spurting another load inside of you with a throaty groan.

Finally the pain was over, you laid there a fucked out mess unable to think straight- unable to think about the mission. Sasuke buttoned his pants and sat there next to your shirtless with his head in his hand.

“Shit…” He sighed. “Let’s promise to keep this out of the mission report, okay?”

Tag list: @fuckmachine42069 @pasdasin @alien-girl-violet

Next: Day 11 - Pet Play - Kiba X Reader

I FELL BEHIND AGAIN 😀😀

#smut #naruto #sasuke x reader #sasuke uchiha #sasuke x reader smut #sasuke smut #sasuke uchiha smut #sasuke naruto #sasuke uchiha x reader #sasuke uchiha x you #sasuke uchiha x y/n #sasuke fic #naruto fic #naruto smut #kinktober 2023 #shaggys bitches kinktober #kinktober

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lure-of-writing · 7 months

Text

Never been good enough

Authors note: I haven't written in forever so please forgive me if this isn't the best but I would love to hear what you think!

Summary: You would never be good enough for Ariel

Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: Arguing, curse words, mentions of death, Elain slander, Tamlin makes an appearance

Part two: Left in regret

Part three: Why can't We?

There was always something so enticing about Azriel that you could never put your finger on. To simply put it he was fascinating. Being a part of the inner circle for as long as you have meant that you put your feelings for him aside, did what you thought was best for the group. Not only that but Azriel never gave you any signs that he was interested in you and there was no way you would let him know about your feelings. What if you guys dated and it didn't work out? Or worse, what if you told him and he didn’t feel the same way? These types of thoughts made a home in your head and they made it a point to consistently remind you that Azriel would only ever be a friend. But hey, better a friend then nothing at all, Right?

That was until Rhysand met Feyre and in turn met Nesta and Elain. This is where your downfall began. You were truly happy for your high lord and new high lady but could have done without her sisters. Nesta was always ready to pick a fight and tear you down with her words as if she were some wild animal backed into a corner that would bite if you tried to pet it. The comparison wasn’t far off, she basically was a wild animal. Elain on the other hand was, well, contemptible at best. From what you knew Elain was basically loved by all in the inner circle but you. There was just something about her that irked you to your core. In a world that praised the strong and belittled the weak, her innocence bothered you. Why did Feyre have to do everything for her sisters, especially the middle one? As an older sister yourself you would have made any sacrifice necessary to protect your little sister. In fact you did. Maybe that's why you resented the middle sister.

Before the new additions were made to your family life was perfect, before under the mountain of course, the group was a perfectly balanced number and each person had their person. Rys with Armen, Mor and Cassian, you and Azriel. The group would spend long days giving each other a run for their money with stupid bets and at night you would have an even longer night getting drunk at ritas, but ever since Ryhsand met Feyre things changed almost instantly. It was like the people you once knew completely changed over night. You still knew who they were to their core but you didn’t recognize who they had become.

Cassian bowed to an unwavering, impolite, ungrateful human turned fae also known as Nesta, he was willing to die for someone who would never give the time of day to even acknowledge that he existed. Amren found company in her ruthlessness, found friendship and understanding in her unbothered face.

Mor found sisterhood among the complexities of healing with Feyre, through the grief and joy and thousands of other emotions one feels when finding themselves after trauma.

Ryhsand found his mate, the one he never thought he would meet. The one he was willing to die for as long as that meant she was safe.

Azriel saw the need to protect someone as delicate as Elain. So he did.

And you, you found a changed group of people before your very own eyes.

“Azriel can I please hold the fancy special dagger?” the Shadowsinger simply stares at you from the other side of the ring. Today had been training day for everyone excluding Amren, if you asked her she would say it didn’t pertain to her, and while the boys took turns sparring you were teaching Mor a new fighting technique you learned recently. “No” the short answer was no surprise to you at all. “Why not? I even said please and I never say please” the inner circle could not wait to witness this scene unfold for this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence but considering that you were Azriels favorite amongst the group even if he refused to say it, they thought that maybe one day you would wear him down enough to the point where he lets you hold the truth teller. “y/n I have never let anyone hold that dagger and you will not be the first. You are more than capable of handling yourself without my blade.” “Exactly I am more than capable of handling a dagger Azriel. One day I will get the truth teller in my hands just you wait.” he simply raised his shoulders in a shrugging manner as if to say “yeah I’m not concerned”

To say you were surprised that Azriel gave Elain the truth teller would be an understatement but honestly you should of seen it coming. Not even a few days before he was rushing into the hybern camp to save Elain without any second thought. There was never a time in the five hundred years where Azriel threw himself into a situation like that where he didn’t at least take some time to plan everything out. As a spy yourself you knew that at least having a fraction of a plan could save your life but it appeared Arizel was willing to die to save her. Feyre's sister be damned. So to watch from afar as he handed over his dagger to inexperienced hands was truly a gut wrenching experience. How could your closest friend of literally hundreds of years spend his potentially last moments with someone who was basically a stranger instead of a true friend? It was a revealing moment, it either showed how kind he was to try and help a defenseless person have a means to defend themselves if the time came where it was needed or he truly had changed and no longer cared for you. You would have your answer sooner than you had hoped.

For as long as you have existed you were trained as a spy for the cover up of an assassin. It made you as deadly as anyone else in the inner circle, maybe even deadlier since no one ever saw their death by your hands coming. So when the time came to go to war you were ready. The Battle was bloody and ugly and cruel. It was long and it felt never ending for every body you cut down it seemed there was ten more to replace it. When you watched as Cassin dove from the sky just as the cauldron unleashed its power amongst the world, the fight seemed hopeless. How were you supposed to win when hybern had that kind of power to be used whenever the king wished? But as a warrior in your own right you just wished that when you died upon this battle field that it wasn’t for nothing. That everyone in your family made it home by the end of this war, you may not recognize your family anymore but they meant the world to you and you just wanted them to be safe no matter the cost.

Seeing help arrive re-established your hope that Hybern wouldn’t win and it pushed you to fight that much harder but the renewed sense of vigor made you lose focus and that was your downfall. A hybern soldier came charging at you with the anger of a thousand suns and sliced your stomach in one quick motion and before you knew it you were one the ground bleeding out.

The inner circle was checking on Cassian when an unexpected figure came walking in with your limp body in their arms. “Oh gods, y/n!’’ Mor was the first to stand up and gawk at you in Tamlins arms before the healers directed him to a place where they could properly work on you. Nothing was said as the healers started working, as the inner circles' minds were racing and as Tamlin was leaving. “Thank you” Tamlin didn’t even stop to acknowledge Rhysands form of gratitude. Azriel was the first to speak “How did we forget about her?” no one had an answer.

Once back in Velaris with your healing underway you could tell that something was off within the group besides the obvious effects of a battle like that and a gut feeling told what it was. You could feel this sense of guilt every time you stepped foot into a room and you knew it was that they forgot about you, they never said that they did but while you were unconscious you could hear everything, and what you heard broke your heart. You were becoming an outsider in your own family.

You watched day by day as Amren bickered with Nesta, Ryhsand flirt with Feyre and cassian with Nesta, watched as Elain and Azriel danced the line of lovers and watched as you were slowly distanced from the group but it all came to a head after a heated argument with Elain. You were sick and tired of her acting like she was helpless when she wasn’t. She was cauldron made and she needed to start acting like it or else it would get someone killed or even herself. It happened on a training day.

The sun was beating down on your tired body and the whisper of a breeze was doing little to help and listening to Elain ask Azriel for help was driving you up a wall. “Azriel can you help me? I don’t think I'm doing this right?” all she was doing was stretching and she needed help with it? “For fucks sake Elain do you want him to spoon feed you and wipe your ass for you while hes at it?” Everyone stopped at your outburst and stared at you. Nesta looked like she was ready to rip off your face but Azriel beat her to it “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you watched as she shifted her body to be behind his as if she knew he would fight her battles for her. “What it means Azriel” you stalked into his space until you were face to face and watched over his shoulder and Elain moved to seek comfort between her sister and the high lord and you couldn’t help but scoff at her theatrics

“Is that all this group ever seems to do is baby her! She is not a child, she can handle herself. She doesn’t need you to teach her how to touch her toes Azriel but heaven forbid poor sweet Elain has to do something on her own for once. I mean my gods what aren’t you willing to do for her Azriel? Correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t you give her the truth teller?” Azriel was quick to interrupt “Is that what this is seriously about?” if looks could kill he would be dead because your glare is cutting him up into pieces “I wasn’t done. You gave her your dagger, you went into a hybern camp to save her, you answer her every single beck and call as if she's not fully capable of doing things for herself. You all enable this, every single one of you!” you point to every member of the inner circle “ And I have had enough of this bullshit! Its ridiculous! Elain loves to play sweet and innocent but really she just loves having people dote on her and not having to do anything herself.” Everyone knew you were seething for they could see the redness creeping up your neck and into your face. And apparently you pissed off Elain

“So what if Azriel did those things for me it has nothing to do with you so mind your own business.” you knew she wasn’t as nice as she seemed. “This has everything to do with me! I used to be his best friend, me! Not you! I watched everyone change when your family came along and it ruined mine! I have been in love with Azriel since the day I met him and yet I’ve had to watch him fall for you, who he hasn’t even known for two seconds! I heard him say that they forgot about me on the battlefield after hybern! So yes this is about me, I am an outsider in my own family!” The silence was deafening after watching you fight to speak through your tears and cracking voice. No one dared to move for fear of upsetting you even more or maybe it was the weight of your words keeping them in place. Azriel went to place a hand on top of your shoulder but you were quick to step out of his reach. “Y/n I had no idea you felt that way” again you couldn’t help but scoff “Of course not because you were too busy with sweet Elain to notice anything else.” he shook his head as if in a silent no “I am so sorry that we forgot about you there is no excuse it should of never happened. I-we never knew you felt this way, felt like you were being pushed away. But y/n why didn’t you ever tell me that you had feelings for me?” something broke in Azriels heart watching you cry, watched as your face scrunched in pain while you fought back sobs from taking over your body. Something pulled him to comfort you but he knew better than that. He couldn’t, not with Elain here.

“I have been telling you for five hundred years Azriel how much more do you want me to do? I may have never flat out said it but why do you think I stayed up waiting for you to come home after missions, or why I defended you against the teasing, or why I showed you my love in a thousand different ways but you never noticed even though you are the head spy master of the night court.” a sob racked your body forcing you to stop and Azriel wanted nothing more than to hold you until the tears stopped flowing and you felt whole again something in his soul was pulling him towards you but your next words stopped him in his tracks. “I never told you because to you it seems that I have never just been good enough. I have never been enough for you.”

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel one shot #azriel fanfic #acotar imagine #acotar x you #azriel imagine #azriel angst #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger

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matchadobo · 5 months

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hi idk if this is an odd request but could you write a shanks x reader where she uses her safeword bc she’s starting to feel bad and he how he comforts her after <3 tysm 🫶

SHANKS; safeword

wc: 834

warning/s: nsfw 🔞, p0rnp0rnp0rn, fluff in the end, afab reader, wrote this in one sitting whabshabah

you tried clawing at his chest as a sign to tell him to stop, but it seemed as if he took it as a compliment. your cunt felt so numb. you already came and you lost track how many times. shanks loves overstimulating you, that hazy look of lust in your eyes gets him going even more. but you love it too of course, it’s just that, it’s different now. he looks too feral, too hungry, too scary.

“what’s got you so quiet, princess? don’t give up on me now, yeah? you’re taking all of me so well.” he tucked a hair that was starting to stick on your forehead. “already tired, eh?” a smirk made its way to his lips, he loved what he saw. flushed face, parted, drooling lips, and the half-lidded look of sex in your eyes.

the view of him slowly losing himself by the warmth of your folds. it feels so sticky and wet and his cock was throbbing at the clench of your sopping crevice. he loved how red and used your core looked. he’d throw his head back and slick back his sweaty hair, brutally pounding into you. each thrust hitting your cervix that it started choking you.

“t-too much…” you meekly let out, but it was unintelligible to him. he was too lost in the ecstasy of you. your lower half was aching by the minute, like it was going to bleed because of his pace and size.

“s-shanks too much…!” you tried a little louder this time. you couldn’t bellow it out clearly though, your stomach was so heavy. yet he still couldn’t hear it. soon enough, tears formed in your eyes, precariously cascading down your cheeks.

“roses.”

it only took the wetness of your cheeks and the weak sobs of the safeword for the emperor to stop. that flower that filled the fields on where he met you made him remember how delicate you are and how you should be treated. he stiffened up immediately, taking his hand off your throat. his hand immediately clutched your cheek, thumbs wiping off the tears. “oh fuck- baby, sweetheart i’m so sorry.” he pulled you up into his embracd, the look in his eyes much kinder this time. your voice sobering him up instantly. “d-did i squeeze your throat too much? did i bite too hard? t-tell me.”

“are you- where does it hurt?” he pulled away, searching for any noticeable sign of hurt on your body and eyes. he was still in you though, he figured it’d hurt more if he pulled out right away.

“just my cunt that you abused.” you sarcastically remarked, laughing meekly through teary eyes.

“jesus, i’m so sorry. i was- i'm fucking stupid. you just felt so good, and i’m so tired, and i needed you. i’m just- sorry i went too far, darling.” he panicked. suddenly, the big, scary emperor was now pouting before you. “y-yeah, let’s stop here.” he lied you down, slowly pulling out while carefully watching if your face contorted in any pain.

aaand the goofy shanks you fell in love to was now back, not that cunt hungry motherfucker earlier (but that works too, sometimes 😝). he soon ran a cold bath for you, cleaning you up. he distracted you with his funny stories, reveling on how you smile and how your cries fade away.

he’d usually take you out by the deck, let you clung on his arm to help you walk. you two’d settle by the edge of the ship, he’ll grab a pillow for you to sit on while your feet hang loosely above the flowing current, and he’d have a protective arm around your waist. the comforting blues and the salty air would relax the both of you, he’d place his chin on your shoulders and revel in your fragrant body wash and natural scent.

“i’m really sorry, love.” he mumbled, bashfully looking down. “have i really not hurt you?” the look of pure concern in his ruby eyes made you remember why you fell in love with him again.

“just a little but, that’s why we have a safe word, right? i understand, love. don’t worry about it.” you tuck a hair hanging by the side of his face on his ear.

“i-i’ll take you to hongo later.”

you couldn’t help but play it off with a nod as your fingers softly brush by his scarred cheek. during the visit with hongo, shanks had his head hung low with his hand behind him sheepishly when hongo confirmed that you were just overfucked and you were totally fine.

so i got sick again fml buuuut to the person who requested this, i aM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG LMFAO 🥺 like i said, i don't want to release shit half-baked and tonight was the only night i felt the mood with this man 😏 sooo i hope this makes you happy 😩 even tho it's so short!!

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masqueradereveler21 · 1 month

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Hogwarts Legacy Character Sheet - Gwendolen Hedera (Edited!)

General Information

Full Name: Gwendolen Hedera

Nicknames: Gwen, Wendy, The Hero of Hogwarts, The New Fifth Year

Gender: Female

Date of Birth: April 26th, 1875

Zodiac Sign: Taurus

Personality Type (MBTI): INTJ - The Architect

Species: Human

Blood Status: Unregistered

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Nationality: Welsh

House: Slytherin

Wand: Fir wood with a phoenix feather core, 11 3/4”, rigid flexibility

Patronus: Stoat

Boggart: The mutilated corpse of Professor Fig

Amortentia: Bread pudding, wax candles, old books, fresh linen

Physical Appearance

Hair Colour & Style: Black; occasionally wears down but is most often seen sporting it braided or in a ponytail.

Eye Colour: Grey

Skin Tone: Olive with neutral undertones

Height: 167cm (5’6”)

Weight: 55kg (121 lbs)

Clothing Style: Neat and presentable; favors skirts, ruffled blouses, vests, and heeled boots. Almost never wears her robes.

Accessories: Black painted finger nails. A necklace gifted to her from Natty.

Voice Claim: Jessica Sula

Personality

Positive Traits: Adaptable, determined, loyal, resilient, compassionate, curious, diligent

Neutral Traits: Independent, reserved, ambitious, rational, observant, competitive

Negative Traits: Arrogant, cunning, stubborn, sarcastic, defiant

Strengths: Capable of thinking outside the box and extremely quick-witted

Weaknesses: Thinks she knows what’s best and struggles to let people in

Likes: Cats, Summoner’s Court, Quidditch, organization, leadership, exploring the highlands, reading

Dislikes: Spiders, Gobstone’s, dugbogs, failure, meat, laziness, clutter

Background and Family

Gwendolen Hedera was born on April 26th, 1875, in South Wales to parents of unknown wizarding heritage. At the age of five, Gwendolen was in a carriage accident which tragically took her parents lives and left her with amnesia. She was ultimately raised at Mission of Love, a Muggle monastery that housed young orphans and disabled elderly. During her time there, she was subjected to verbal, mental, and occasionally physical abuse, though she did find some solace in the older people there who treated her kindly. Once she grew old enough, she was shuffled from household to household trying to find a place to call home, though her “poor behavior” and lack of discipline always lead her back to the monastery. It wasn’t until she was fourteen that Gwendolen found herself whisked away by Professor Eleazar Fig, never to be seen again.

After Professor Fig’s death, she found herself under the guardianship of Matilda Weasley, Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration professor. It took some convincing from Ominis for Gwen to accept the offer, and she kept herself at arms length in the beginning, fearing that Professor Weasley would abandon her when things became too difficult. During the summer between her fifth and sixth year, she met the rest of the Weasley clan and grew closer to Garreth Weasley, who she begrudgingly helped with his experiments. With time, she came to view Professor Weasley in a maternal light (the feeling was mutual on Matilda’s part).

Biological Father: Unknown (Deceased)

Biological Mother: Unknown (Deceased)

Guardian/Adoptive Parent: Matilda Weasley

Adoptive Uncles: Graham Weasley, Phillip Weasley

Adoptive Aunts: Dorothy Weasley (née Button), Lydia Weasley (née Hawthorne)

Adoptive Cousins: Theodore Weasley, Oscar Weasley, Garreth Weasley, Florence Weasley, Millicent Weasley, Francis Weasley, Edmund Weasley

Relationships

Love Interest: Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow…ehh its complicated…

Best Friends: Natsai Onai, Poppy Sweeting, Garreth Weasley, Imelda Reyes, Amit Thakkar

Acquaintances: Nerida Roberts, Grace Pinch-Smedley, Lucan Brattleby, Isaac Cooper, Adelaide Oakes

Rivals: Leander Prewett, Charlotte Morrison, Samantha Dale

Enemies: Ranrok, Victor Rookwood, Theophilus Harlow, Ashwinders, Cassius Caine (OC), Elspeth Iris (OC)

Pets: Vivarium beasts, eleven cats, a barn owl named Minerva

• Artwork done by the incredible @millyillus •

#gwendolen hedera #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #natsai onai #poppy sweeting #garreth weasley #amit thakkar #imelda reyes #matilda weasley #hogwarts legacy mc #slytherin #slytherin mc #hphl mc #hogwarts legacy oc #the girl with the resting bitch face #character sheet

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 8 months

Text

Alone In The Compound (2)

Chapter 1- Wanda X Reader 18+

Chapter 2- Wanda X Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary- Taking advantage of being alone in the tower with your girlfriend, you tease her as much as possible to have her begging you to fuck her. You just didn't expect to get walked in on.

Warnings/Tags- Smut 18+ MDNI, Threesome, Thigh Riding, Praise, Switch Reader/Dom Natasha/Sub Wanda, Strap ons, Multiple Orgasms, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Brief Blow Job, Begging, Squirting

---

The spy answers by slowly unzipping her suit, yours and Wanda’s eyes drinking in the exposed skin. Her hands teasingly run down her body as she peels the tight suit off her body, left in only a black bra and matching panties. You groan quietly when you see the visible wet patch between her legs and imagine the way her strong thighs would feel wrapped around your head.

Her hips sway as she walks over to the bed, relishing in the attention she’s getting from the both of you. Wanda’s hips roll against the toy subconsciously, grinding the base of the strap on against your clit making your mind fog with pleasure. The redhead straddles further down on your legs, her body pressed up against the back of Wanda as her mouth hovers next to her ear.

“What shall we do to her?” her words spill so effortlessly from her lips in a tone that has you wanting to clench your thighs together. The sight of Wanda shuddering at the sultry voice doesn’t help, her hips grinding down harder against you while a low moan escapes her.

“I…,” Wanda’s voice trails off as the spy’s hands drift down her body, scratching her perfectly manicured nails down her stomach. Her mouth leaves hot opened mouthed kisses along her neck, purposely placing her mouth over the marks you left on her skin while staring directly at you.

“Words Detka,” one hand trails to the witch’s clit to slowly drive her mad while the other moves upwards, pinching a breast and rolling the nipple between the pads of her fingers. Wanda lets out a ragged breath followed by a groan when she adds more pressure against her breast. When Wanda remains silent, Natasha lets out a chuckle at her speechless state, her mouth moving back to her ear. “Hmmm,” the low hum has Wanda closing her eyes, the dominating presence of the older woman making her weak. “How about we give her a show?” The redhead's green eyes meet yours with a mischievous glint in them as she nibbles on your girlfriend's earlobe.

“Yes,” she sighs out, eyes fluttering open to see your darkened ones. You remain frozen underneath them both, watching intensely as the spy slowly plans to break Wanda apart.

“Good girl,” the witch whimpers at the praise while Natasha continues to circle her clit. The hand that was on her chest moves to her hips, guiding her to move a steady rhythm on the toy that was buried in her core. “Fuck,” she mutters, hearing the witch’s breathy sigh and looking down at your emamoured state, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?”

“Nat,” you moan when she presses Wanda’s hips down harder, your hips bucking at the pressure on your clit.

“To have you both begging me to touch you? To fuck you?” you groan at her words, Wanda whining at the feeling of you moving your hips upwards in search of more friction, the action making the tip of the toy hit her g-spot. “Or to even just use you both?” her voice breaks off into a sigh when she lowers her hips onto your leg, grinding down on the skin she could. Her wetness drips through her soaked underwear, coating your thigh in her arousal as she moans quietly.

You see how Wanda’s hips start to move more sporadically, a sign she was close again. Natasha notices as well, helping more to move her along the toy.

“Please,” she begs, “Please can I come?” her eyes look down at you, pleading you to say yes.

“I don’t know,” you rasp out, looking over at the redhead who’s busy kissing her shoulders, “What do you think Nat?”

“She has been a good girl…” Wanda whines as you both take your time deciding, hands clutching onto the sheets beside her.

“Please,” her whimper is ignored as you continue to tease her.

“But,” her words waver as she rolls her hips harder against your thigh, “I think she should have to wait a little longer,” the groan that leaves the witch’s lips has you both smirking at her submissive state.

“How close are you?” you flex the muscle in your thigh so she has a harder surface to grind on, a louder moan erupting from the back of her throat.

“So close,” the spy moans, her fingers digging into Wanda’s hips as she tries to keep her composure. You move your hand so you can rub at Wanda’s clit, letting Natasha move her own hand to frantically circle her own. “Oh fuck. Come with me Wanda,” she muffles the guttural moan that escapes her by biting down on the witch’s neck, her then crashing head first into her orgasm.

You watch with lust-filled eyes as both women fall apart on you, their hips stuttering and strings of moans pouring out of their mouths. The heat between your thighs increases even more as you stare in awe as their bodies tremble with aftershocks.

“Oh my god,” Wanda sighs out, climbing off the toy as it was too sensitive in her, moving her body to rest next to yours, her mouth kissing at your collarbones. “I thought we were returning the favour?” she questions the redhead, her eyes closing as she still recovers from her orgasm.

“We will,” you watch with a hunger in your eyes as Natasha stares at you, her mouth moving towards the strap on that Wanda’s wetness was coating, her tongue licking a stripe up the toy. You moan at the sight, desperately wishing you could feel her tongue on the toy, the way her lips wrap around the tip and head bobs down until almost the entire cock was down her throat. She pulls back, panting for breath as she licks her lips, a small moan leaving her as she does so. “Sorry, I just wanted a taste.”

“Nat,” you moan as her hands grip your inner thighs, face still hovering near the toy, “Please, please fuck me.” Wanda’s eyes widened at hearing you beg, something not common from you as you tended to be more dominant.

“Hush Dorogaya,” she coos innocently, as if she didn't just have her lips wrapped around your cock, “I’ll take care of you.” The whimper that left your lip was pathetic, your face turning to the side to catch Wanda’s lips to muffle the noises.

You feel her take the harness off you, your hips raising to help her and moan loudly into Wanda’s mouth when you feel her tongue on your clit. One hand reaches down to thread through her fiery locks while the other grips the sheets near Wanda. Her tongue expertly licks at your clit, her mouth occasionally sucking at it while her fingers run through your folds. Natasha can hear the moan that you try to muffle with your girlfriend's mouth, smirking against your core.

“What’s wrong Dorogaya?” Her tone is teasing, condescending, making you flush. You’re not used to not being in control but you can’t help but love the way she’s treating you.

“Please make me come,” you pull back from kissing Wanda to look down at her with desperate eyes. “Please use your fingers.”

“Good girl, asking nicely for what you want,” she mumbles before sliding two fingers into you, your back arching and a broken groan escaping you. Her mouth returns to your clit while her fingers brutally pump in and out of you. Wanda moves to kiss at your neck as you struggle to kiss her back, her fingers playing with your breasts, mouth whispering obscene things into your ear.

“Fuck,” she moans against the shell of your ear, “You’re so fucking hot, begging her to make you come.”

“Wanda,” you moan, your walls clenching around Natasha’s fingers, “Fuck, Nat, please can I come?”

“Come for me,” your whole body tenses as you let out a string of moans, your body twitching with pleasure as she doesn't stop.

“Fuck,” you practically babble as words and moans tumble out of your lips, the redhead determined to make you come again. When she curls her fingers against your g-spot, your body tenses again, this time a gush of liquid squirting out of you as you come on her fingers. Your body goes limp on the bed as you look down to see Natasha’s chest and face coated in your juices, a groan escaping you as your head falls back on the pillow behind you.

“You did so good for me,” she praises, pressing a kiss to your thighs before moving up to crash her lips against Wanda’s. She moans at the taste of you on her tongue, cupping the redhead’s cheeks to deepen the kiss.

“God,” you groan out as when they pull apart, a string of salvia follows before breaking off. “Give me five minutes to recover,” you joke, looking at them with humour in your eyes as your chest rises and falls.

“Don’t worry Dorogaya, we have all night.”

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blueberryarchive · 9 months

Text

—the sketch and the smaller eye; kth

Lonely man Kim Taehyung leads a fairly stable routine in his life away from civilization affected by an infection without a cure. Stability ends the day you arrive, no one knows how you got there, but one thing is for sure: Taehyung won't let you go.

🌿pairing; Artist!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

🌿word count; 8.1k

🌿tw; widower!tae, post-apocalitic scenario, mentions of disease, weight loss and death, very brief mention of arms, age gap (21 & 30-ish), smut (manhandling, whiNY Taehyung, edging, spanking, oral (f. receiving), creampie, dirty talk), gruesome details of the virus.

🌿themes; strangers to lovers, slow burning, cottage-core.

🌿inspired by; ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵐʸ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ ⁱⁿ ᵉⁿᵍˡⁱˢʰ ᵖˡˢ ᵇᵉ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The walk all the way home was always one of his favorite things to do when it was hunting day, the way the wind danced between the dying leaves and made music inside the hollow trees, the sun setting with the most beautiful tones of pink. It always reminded him of the times he spent just drawing all alone until you came into his land.

The day was August 8th, the heat was overbearing and like all of the other days around the same time, probably four or five (he wouldn't know because his only clock died a year ago), Taehyung sat down in the shadow of an old oak tree that has been his only friend, besides his dog, since he came to this lonely and God-forgotten place, were he was blessed and cursed with solitude and the cruel nature.

He had a small tin box with all of his drawing supplies, broken pencils, a piece of eraser gum the size of a nail, and a reddish tint drying up in a baby food crystal jar. Every day he told himself that he was making more yellow with the few sunflowers in his backyard, but today of all days he actually stood up to look for the petals.

The flowers were right outside the kitchen window, the sun was going down, and they were hunched over, withered, and full of little flying butterflies. His calloused hands took a pair of petals, the most vibrant and alive.

The sudden sound of cracking leaves and the barking of his dog disturbed him.

Taehyung perfectly remembers the moment he saw your frightened eyes, the color of the sunset over your weak body clinging to a log, an improvised cane. Torn clothes, dry mouth like a corpse, wet hair for some reason. Did you cross the river?

The first reaction of both was primal, like two animals that didn't plan to meet. Taehyung only turned on the fireplace at night, only for a couple of hours, so as not to attract attention.

So what were you doing there? Were you lost? Impossible, he was too far from civilization. Were you infected? The wolves would've eaten you by now. Either way, he didn't like the idea of someone new.

The petals sweated their amber ink on Taehyung's hand, you tried to maintain your position, your gaze... almost afraid to blink. The man was not afraid to take action, hand already inside his overall pocket. Without much, his hand raised a pistol, sleek and silver. He was pointing straight at your face, your hair in a ponytail revealing your exposed forehead, like an invitation to explode it with a bullet.

"No, please." You muttered. So soft and yet, Taehyung got scared hearing someone else's voice. It wasn't a growl, nor the crash of stones from the river, nor the rain, nor the cawing of crows, nor his own grunts when chopping wood, nor the barking from his old dog. "I'll go." You begged again, letting go of the log. Taehyung tensed, even more, hearing you again.

So soft and sad. So delicate when the world around was burning.

"Are you coming with someone else?" he growled, getting closer and looking around. The forest seemed quiet, and his dog would have warned him.

"No, just me."

"If you lie it'll be worse for you."

"I know." You lowered your head to avoid the black eye of the gun.

"Are you sick?" the question was simple. Taehyung was trying to look for signs of infection. He hadn't felt this fear since the last time he lost his wife to that fucking disease.

You denied it, slowly.

"Show me," he said with a lowered tone, calm eyes as you undressed as quickly as possible. No marks. Elbows, hands, neck, eyes. All clean. With a sigh from both, the barking stopped.

"Walk to the tree over there, and if you try to do anything funny I'm going to put every fucking bullet in your head," he said giving a simple condition. He started moving with you in front.

Without saying anything else, you both walked slowly to the trunk. The afternoon was already turning blue, cicadas were playing a tense melody. Your bare back revealed your vertebrae, hard balls under your skin looking as if it was going to break. You hugged yourself, trying to keep the heat of your body, perhaps even your modesty.

With a whistle, Frank appeared: an old dog with red eyes and floppy ears. Seeing the naked stranger, he growled loudly. Your hands began to tremble, the weapon and the animal made a cry of pain come out of you, a plea with tears falling down your ashy cheeks. But you didn't see a drop of mercy in Taehyung's eyes, you knew that having this kind of loneliness was not achieved without having to kill several from time to time.

The eyes of the man in front of you were unbending and cold, lips pressed into a thin line, thick hands gripping Frank's chain and his gun. Stains of watercolors and charcoal on his fingers.

"C'mon, buddy," he whispered and the dog came closer little by little to sniff your body. "Bend down." You obeyed.

The animal took its time sticking its wet nose into your hair and skin until it snorted as it sat down. Taehyung lowered the gun.

That was the beginning of your recovery, long days lying between rough, thick sheets. Yellowed pillows that smelled of Taehyung's hair, hand-rolled cigarettes on the nightstand. Every morning he would get up before the sun came up and carry his hunting artifacts over his shoulder. Frank stayed with you while you tried to kill time in the cabin.

You learned how to garden and cook, roll the cigars, and dry the tobacco in the sun. The books were plenty, but reading was an activity you only did if Taehyung was the one reading to you, he did it every night. Even when the fever was so high you couldn't keep up with the story.

When you were at your worst, he held your head to put you in one of his sweaters, and even left the crackling fire all night to keep you warm in the cold.

Every night he started, with a rough and tired voice, around 8 o'clock, to read you a chapter from a book of poems or letters; or the list of lost people in the old newspaper.

"I do it to keep me sane," he said. "I went a long period without saying a word, and I started to forget how to say them, my tongue used to get jammed." He explained to you while drawing an empty cup of tea next to you.

You could only tell him a couple of questions each night, he used to get tired very easily. The first two weeks you couldn't even pronounce two words before he started to lose his patience.

"You don't have to know anything about me," his eyebrows locked in a frown. "When you get better, you can go and it will be like we never met."

But now it has been three months, you think. You recovered pretty well, and you can do the chores while he's out. You try your best every day so he notices that you won't be a bother if he lets you stay.

He doesn't ask questions about how you came to be on this side of the river, and you thank him for that. The memories blurred in your mind, like a sketch that's been erased again and again.

Taehyung get's home at sunset, you are outside breaking some newspapers into pieces. The notebooks he used to draw in were already full, so you decided to make him a new one.

You are wearing a dress he found in an abandoned house, it was a teen size but he loves it. He doesn't know your age yet, but he knows you're probably in your early twenties. He loves when the sun is scorching hot and your only choice is to let your thighs and shoulders out while you cook and clean. The hem flows with the wind letting him see your bare ass while you put the paper to dry.

You two haven't had sex, you never gave him signs, maybe because he looked a little bit older. He never felt like he had to hide an inexistent lust, until a few weeks ago.

Two, to be exact.

You were in the nearest river. A flimsy white t-shirt, wine-drunk, and talking so much. You were so irksome with your questions. The cold water sticking the fabric to your body like marble while you asked about Taehyung's boring routine. Your babble was such, you started asking about him jerking off and how sex works in solitude.

The way you laughed made him blush with anger. Sketches he was trying to make from the water lilies turned into ones from your eyes.

That day he had to take a cold shower in the river after leaving you by the fire in the house. His face was boiling red, tired of your babbling and hard as a log.

The idea of you making him horny made him mad for some reason; it made him feel like a high school boy, but it was natural. He had years without seeing a woman. And you were pretty. So pretty for no fucking reason.

He knew that being in his early thirties probably made him less attractive to you, he was a grumpy man, almost a caveman how he reacted to your ways. That's why he didn't try, not even think about it... not always.

Now you have him going to abandoned houses on the other side of the river, looking for things for you: like a small bottle of perfume, a broken mirror, and old photos of people who are probably dead by now. A way to show he cared without using words.

When he got to the rock path, the crackle made you turn around, you were smiling like always, and his heart felt warm.

"I told you to do that earlier. The paper won't dry today," He grunted, acting more tired than he was so you leave everything behind and get near him. You get a cigar from a basket near you and light it for him. You pass it to him after taking a puff.

"But you can draw on one piece of paper."

"That's not how it works."

"It'll have to work."

Taehyung pressed his lips together, he knew you enjoyed arguing with him, but more than those few words would not come out of him. You rolled you eyes going back to hang the wet paper.

"I'm making dinner tonight," he muttered like ten minutes later and then silence again. Another cigar, the old Frank by his side while he watched the sunset disappear.

The reading hours were around six to seven, right after dinner. It was the same routine when you first stayed, and it is the same now: After dinner, he gets comfortable in bed, takes a cigarette from the nightstand, and with the gas lamp he lights the tip. Book in hand.

The words he didn't say all day would overflow as he read chapter by chapter. In an appropriate tone, pauses at the commas, giving life to each character. A treat for the ears.

After looking for a book on the first floor, he entered the room and stood up, his eyes went to the corner where there was a broken mirror, and in its reflection, you were, combing your hair in a ponytail, so poorly done that it was better to leave it loose. But the strands that were floating in the air, in front of your eyes, made Taehyung's fingers tingle, wanting to take every strand and pull it towards him.

There was a heaviness in the air that early autumn night. The silence was thick, and the yellowish lamplight cast heavier shadows on every piece of furniture. Abrupt and defined as in a baroque painting.

The curve in which his eyes concentrated more were the ones that defined your waist and your stomach, how it bulged slightly like a hill stamped with the flowers of your skimpy dress.

"Turn around," you muttered, like you didn't care if he did it or not, as you started to remove your dress; snapping Taehyung out of the sketches he was drawing in his head. He went to open the window to let some of the heat out of the room, letting the smoke creep through the curtains.

"I think I know what I'm going to read to you today," he cleared his throat, looking down at his bare feet pacing anxiously across the room. The shadow of your silhouette moving on the floor, the bone-white nightgown falling on your curves, exposing one of Taehyung's weaknesses: the connection of your neck and your shoulders, subtle but lethal.

He wanted to press his face between and close his eyes, inhaling the scent of your skin. Rich and peachy, like when the trees have so much fruit that they start to ripen on the same tree.

"You haven't finished showing me the stamp book yet." You dropped on the bed.

"I'm already bored of it."

"Odd." you noticed, watching him bend down and open a suitcase under the bed. "And those?" As you approached you saw a collection of books.

They were small, wrinkled, and minimalist in cover. Some were yellowed papers seized by the red wax on the spine.

Taehyung snorted at the question and looked up, daring you to keep acting innocent. He knew that you knew every corner of the house.

"I want you to say it," you smiled.

"Force me."

"I want you to say that Taehyung, the hard-faced man, has a collection of erotic books under his bed."

"You already said it. I don't have the need."

"Why do you have it under the bed?"

"What are you talking about?" Taehyung moved the books until he found a small book in Spanish. The pink cover with a painting of a mischievous Renaissance woman smiling.

"Kept under the bed, in a suitcase. Like a secret."

"I'm not ashamed of reading erotica if that's what you assume." he closed the suitcase and dropped his body next to you. His head near your legs, yours lying on the opposite side.

"And why do you have it like they're illegal." you held the cigarette he offered you.

"Habits of a human who lived in a society, I suppose."

You inhale the cigarette while he searched for the short between his long fingers, the book opened softly. His thumb pressed down the middle of the pages.

The glass of wine had you sparkling, you still hadn't gotten used to the alcohol. You had not drunk in so long that you did not remember its effects. There was something on the tip of your tongue, a confession that couldn't wait, an itch that needed to be scratched.

Before you could speak, Taehyung let out a soft "Ah" as he found the story for the night.

"A man who came about five years ago translated this story by Anaïs Nin for me. When he found out that I painted, he told me that he had a story for me."

"What's it called?" Without realizing it, your hand began to caress Taehyung's leg.

"La Maja," he pronounced. "Like Goya's painting"

Your head fell back on the stacked pillows, Taehyung's lips moved as he read a homemade translation of the story.

"He pulled back the sheets that covered her and slowly lifted the silk nightgown. He was able to lift it over her breasts without her giving the slightest sign of awakening. When it was uncovered all over the woman's body, he contemplated it for as long as he wanted. Her arms were detached from her body; her breasts stretched out before his eyes like an offering. He was aroused by his desire but he did not dare to touch her. Instead, he brought paper and pencils, sat by her bedside, and took notes. As he worked, he had the sensation of caressing each of the perfect lines of the woman's body."

Taehyung's eyes would lift to yours after reading the paragraph, turning back to the page with embarrassment flushing his cheeks. The human habit of blushing when you want things so badly, he thought.

The smoke from the dying cigar between your fingers snaked through your hair and the softness of your chin. Taehyung was never more jealous of something so ephemeral.

He couldn't find where he had stayed and the silence became so loud that you could only do what was right.

"I followed you today."

"What?" Taehyung didn't understand, you had spoken so low that he almost didn't notice it.

"To the woods, when you left this morning."

When he closed the book, you knew that what little sweetness Kim showed you turned sour.

"I have told you that you must stay here, with Frank. Safe." You both got up at the same time, you followed Taehyung looking for his gaze which he averted.

"I'm not asking you to keep me safe, Kim" you replied.

There was a pause as he pricked at his bottom lip. Was that in his pupils the sign of an offense? Taehyung clucked at you, turning around.

"Kim," you tried to fix it by brushing against his shoulder. "It's not that I'm a helpless deer, I know how to protect myself." You laughed to lighten the mood. Bad idea.

A question, like a small forgotten flame, reappeared in Taehyung's brain. Out of courtesy when you got sick in the first few weeks, he didn't ask where you came from, why you were alone, or how you came to cross the wide river that divided a civilization almost thousands of kilometers to the left. When politeness turned to infatuation, the question was no longer so important. He felt that he could trust you and that he had a new purpose besides survival: to keep you safe.

Fallacies.

"How did you come to find me?"

"What?" the smile faded from your face.

"I'm not going to repeat myself."

Your eyes moved erratically in his gesture, a frown. Just like when you came in drenched that August. No trust.

"Don't know."

He just snorted denying, he didn't believe you, and that irritated you.

"Sure, of course."

"Do you think I'm lying to you?"

"I don't believe it, I know." His body moved from side to side, arranging books and picking things up off the ground.

Your flushed face and clenched fists. Boiling alcohol in your veins.

"Well, you can go to hell with your lonely man farce."

"OK." Taehyung sighed daring you to continue insulting him.

"You do know that things aren't as horrible as at the start of the pandemic anymore, right?"

"Oh yeah?" His eyes widened in theatrical surprise.

"The infected are controlled and-," Seeing how he continued to feign interest, you pushed him aside and grabbed your dress from the floor, beginning to change. Tears accumulated without permission in your eyes. "Whatever," you mumbled.

"Then you do know something about your past."

"Fuck you, Kim."

"No, because you lied to me and now you say things like how you know how to defend yourself in a forest full of wild wolves and that you traveled several kilometers by water and land to get here. And you want me not to ask questions about it." He moved closer to you so close that he could see the torment in your eyes.

"Exactly." You muttered putting on your garden boots.

"That request is absurd and you know it." his laugh was careless. He was drunk too.

"I know."

You both stared at each other, your hair was no longer tied up and its shadow hid both of your features under its shadow. Your lips parted at the sight of his.

"I don't remember how I got to this place," you whispered, a tear fell to your cheek and you cursed how sensitive alcohol made you. You saw how Taehyung's face softened in the presence of your pain. "I swear I would have told you if I knew."

Taehyung swallowed hard and looked out the window. He hated seeing others cry, he hated when his wife did it, and he hates seeing it now in your lost gaze. There was something in the way you were, in the quality of your emotions and your hope in everything that reminded him so much of her. His wife died at the same age you were.

Taehyung and her were both idiots and thought that living far away was all it took to escape the infection.

It was stupid of him to let her go hunting alone that day, he shouldn't have let a simple fever keep him in bed when she was out there.

He spent years waiting for her to come back. Waiting for some afternoon that he will hear her quick steps coming down the gravel road. Much later, he found a piece of her shirt floating on the bank of a river.

Taehyung closed his eyes and nodded. It was dangerous to let you stay, he still didn't fully trust you. But what was the use of being alone so much when he only waited for the next day and the day after until one day he could die naturally?

Your body tensed as his hand rose to sink into your hair and kiss your forehead. So delicate, without causing any noise.

"Sleep well," he whispered leaving the book on the table. His chest hurt with the immense amount of feelings you make him feel in one day.

It's overbearing and he loved it. But his poor soul needed time.

For the first time in all that time together, he decided to sleep on the first floor.

You didn't know what to say, you were already ready for him to just ask you to leave. So you were thankful he actually just…left.

When the door creaked shut, you let loneliness engulf you. You cried, glued to the pillow like a child. Of relief, of uncertainty, for that kiss.

The days are long when there is nothing to say. When you don't look at him, when you ignore him with your unsubtle ways: you leave your clothes poorly folded, you don't finish the dishes he makes for you, your cigarettes are badly rolled, and you punish him by wearing those shirts that reveal your cleavage.

If you knew what you did to him, would you take advantage of him? Would he hate it?

Taehyung can feel your eyes on his back as he tries to light the fireplace at night, the cold is cruel in the mountains, even crueler than the tension in the small living room. You find yourself sitting watching the flame grow and grow, Taehyung trying to appear as calm as possible as if he didn't have the gears of his brain fed up trying to figure out how to talk to you.

Apart from a 'what do you want for dinner?', a 'yes' or a 'no'.

He felt he talked more with poor Frank, who slept about eighteen hours a day.

He cleared his throat at the smoke and held up his hand for more newspaper. You gave it instantly. And suddenly, a miracle: for the first time in weeks, your voice.

"Tomorrow is my birthday," you said embarrassedly, arms crossed.

With a tight-lipped smile on Kim's mouth, he nodded and looked into your tired eyes.

Your voice was still just as sweet and calm, you wanted to try to sound weary. But he noticed every afternoon when he came home from hunting, the way you moved through the little orchard and sang while you bathed Frank. Your laughter was his antidote, it healed his tiredness and the ache of his soul.

"We should celebrate it." He proposed, but you instantly denied it.

"I want you to take me."

"What do you mean?" he blushed, looking deep into your eyes.

"Take me somewhere."

Taehyung dropped the newspaper on the fire. He sighed softly, (not in relief, but disappointed) and sat in the old chair in the corner, legs apart as he rolled a cigarette.

"Where do you want to go?"

"To the house on top." you pointed east.

"How do you know there's a house on top?"

"Because I saw it in your drawings." your pupils let you see its shine for the first time in weeks. The cold made you look so beautiful. The little contact he had with you, he missed it so much.

Your cheeks took on color with the coming of winter, your lips like two slices of ripe fruit, red and full of juice. "And I found your binoculars in the warehouse."

"Mm," he couldn't even get mad at you and your insatiable curiosity. He was glad to hear you. Besides, who was he to deny you going up to that abandoned mansion, even when fear consumed him that they would attack you?

"Sure, we'll go." you let the corner of your lips rise, Taehyung feigned seriousness. "But it can't be tomorrow. We need at least two days of walking to get there, and we have to prepare."

You licked your lips and got up, letting the cloth that wrapped you from head to toe fall to your shoulders. You raised your arms, and Taehyung frowned, not understanding the gesture.

"Come here, it's almost twelve, and I'm going to be twenty-one."

Although they both knew that no clock gave them a certain time, Kim didn't care and you less. Leaving the cigarette next to him, he stood up and awkwardly let his strong arms swallow you, your head on his chest.

The hug was a thank you from you, but with just a few more seconds, you realized that Taehyung didn't want to let go. You opened your eyes, he could feel your confusion.

"Just-" he stammered, tensing his arms a little more to bring you closer to the warmth of his body. Silence.

Rich and peachy.

"What?"

"No, nevermind."

"Kim." you wanted to look at his eyes but didn't let you.

"I haven't hugged anyone in years." he murmured, a sigh of relief.

The confession made your chest sink. The breathing of the man in your arms was soft and ragged. As if he was nervous.

"Can you play with my hair?" he hummed, timid and needy, warming your shoulder with his breath; chills covering your skin.

You let your fingers explore his fluffy hair, the little ripples covering your palm and fingertips. You heard another sigh from him and felt how his arms slid to hug the sides of your waist.

"Feels good?" you dared to ask, breathing the musk on his jacket. He just nodded longingly, closed eyes and brows knitted; the crackle of the fire in the fireplace melting his heart.

Your throat was dry, and your lips parted, God knows you wanted to enjoy that hug, how Taehyung bent his body slightly to hide his head in your neck. Perhaps it was the lack of contact or the fire in the fireplace, but your body bubbled over a slow fire with each exhale that collided with your neck.

"Tae-" you swallowed and grabbed his shoulders so he could see you.

The drunkenness in the eyes of the man in front of you was so short but so sweet. Discovering his attitude, he pricked the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat.

"Sorry, don't worry about the trip. We can start packing tomorrow."

"I think I remember some of what happened to me."

"Oh." His eyes widened, gesturing as he tried to ask you to explain. You loved the gestures that came out of Taehyung when he didn't know the protocol of conversations. It wasn't 'thank you', but a tightening of the lips into a brief smile; no 'Don't move' when he painted but a little grunt and a deny.

You both took a seat on the furniture and got as close as possible, there was no one around, but this was how both of you got used to talking to each other. Whispers, watching each other's lips and laughter, when it was intended, with the hand on the mouth.

"I remember a boat, I remember several women and two men," you murmured, your eyes tilted into the fire. "A group came on another boat and threw us on the shore, they beat the men so much that they died and left the women to suffer."

Kim bit the inside of his cheek, he knew the day you would remember your past would be difficult. The beginning of the lethal virus was so surreal for him.

"I don't remember their faces much, just their hair. I remember…one feverish night, the women covered me with a blue coat that they had taken from one of the men." your hand trembled, and Taehyung took it without hesitating. "When I woke up, they were all in stage two."

Stage two of the virus was when their bodies began to slow down, sleep being the main activity, even at times when they needed to urinate. Your body didn't feel like getting up.

Taehyung remembers how one of his college classmates slept fully for two days, he opened his eyes when called but closed them instantly.

"When I saw them I thought the same thing was going to happen to me, apparently they killed an infected animal and ate it among themselves without giving me a piece. I don't blame them. I also thought the fever was going to kill me that night," you shrugged. "When I woke up I found trash, fruit, and headless bugs on the floor. The virus searched for everything it could to feed before going into coma…, and then, um-"

Your gaze drifted away, as if you saw the women sprawled on their backs with their mouths open and sunken eyes on the cabin rug.

"Their bodies started to swell, their chests and stomachs and throats. The eggs-" you denied and Taehyung felt chills. "They began to grow and incubate, I cried for hours and hours in silence, sitting on a log." your voice quivered. "I crossed the river at low tide, and stayed on the rocks to wait."

"You were sent to explore the area. You were the same as I was years ago." Taehyung bit his lip, squeezing your hand.

"I don't understand."

"I thought they didn't send scouts to this area anymore. The infection is so old I thought they wouldn't need any more information."

"What do you mean when you say you were the same?" You frowned and stared at him.

"I was a soldier, my family needed money, and the doctors found a way to make us think they could save my dad from the virus." the memories made his tense neck move involuntarily. "They sent me to this side to find information about the virus, the source."

"You and how many others?"

Taehyung shook his head with a sad smile. Maybe he was even making up the story of his father getting sick, who knows at this point?

"I still don't remember. I just know that I kept walking and walking wit this girl by my side,until we found this hill, and even she disappeared."

They both fell silent. Taehyung had already told you about the disappearance of his wife, unlike other topics, this was the one that seemed like a fable. There were no traces, like smoke that vanished on a sunset.

You can see on his eyes that ache every time he mentions her; you wish you could lick his old wounds, not to cure them, but to soothe the pain.

The way he was holding your hand and the fire trembling on his tan skin made him look like an angel. An untamed one leaves instead of feathers, strong arms to carry the world around him.

You couldn't take it anymore.

"Taehyung," you called, and he didn't have to move because your hand took him by surprise. Guiding him to your hungry lips.

He moaned lowly, making his free hand into a fist to control the euphoria that was running through his body. The wet sound of your mouths devouring each other, he didn't know how much he needed that, the warmth of your tongue licking his lips, the little pant coming out of your strawberry lips.

Oh, how much he hated the fact that he was getting hard just from a kiss, but how couldn't he, good God? You were so delicious.

He snatched his hand from yours and took both of your hands to squeeze above your head. Your back arched, and you mewled as you felt his hand squeeze your wrists.

Taehyung's eyes flickered to your face. Was he doubting what he was doing? Did you do something wrong?

"If you want to stop-"

"No," he growled desperately. With ease, his free hand grabbed the hair at the nape of your neck and kissed you again, clashing teeth.

"Slow down, Kim." you gasped as he devoured your neck, covering in saliva the fabric of the coat that covered you, almost tearing it apart.

Your hand explored his corduroy pants until it reached the tight bulge against his thigh.

"No. I don't want to," he screeched as he watched what you were doing. "Please, I'm too sensitive right now." It was a plea for you to let him enjoy touching you for a few more minutes, his glassy eyes and red lips.

You were cruel, and God, how he hated you for that. You chuckled low and spread your legs to climb into his lap. The sudden movement knocked the air out of him, hands on either side of the couch.

In one sitting, you were pressing his cock against your clothed pussy.

"Oh no, please. Let me-," his hands went to his mouth, squeezing it hard, the words coming out muffled.

With so few moans he had you addicted to his susceptibility. To his droopy eyes and his angelic whimpers over every little thing you did.

"Please," he asked again but it was in vain when you started moving back and forth and licking his neck. "Fuck me, i can't. Baby-" he mumbled rolling his eyes, reaching heaven with so little. The 'baby' scaped again and again from his lips until it died out.

It was embarrassing, but so sublime.

You loved it. No. You became obsessed.

When he finished, you could feel the wetness on his thigh. You laughed again, taking his face in your fingers; he hung from your fingertips like a puppet. His chin resting on them.

"You look so cute when you're sweaty in the middle of a blizzard," you said. He closed his eyes, enjoying the compliment.

Without saying anything else, leaving a wet spot on top of his zipper and his mouth open; you got up and went up the rustic stairs.

You were going to be the death of him.

The morning arrives quietly and with the sun coming in gently through the windows, you are grateful that the snow has stopped as you get up to put on your socks. Frank was sleeping between woolen sheets in the closet. When he heard you calling him he opened his eyes and lazily moved his thick tail.

The bed was made on Taehyung's side. Last night you hardly slept thinking about what you two had done in the living room, you waited anxiously for him to go to the room to finish what you had started, but you fell asleep waiting for him.

Maybe he was upset because you rushed him or he was embarrassed. Either way, you could still feel the moisture your pussy had let out just thinking about his face coming. Like a broken record, just as his pelvis raised to make one last contact with your clit.

You sighed and let the cool water calm your arousal. The small mirror showed your reflection, you were pale. Since the sun doesn't rise so often, you feel like you're withering. The tinting of your cheeks was already disappearing.

Your eyes were guided to the small photo pasted on the mirror, it was an ID with your face. The ink on the image was fading, with your name and date of birth right next to it.

It was the only thing you had for sure, maybe your face wasn't even that one. You returned to your reflection and began to notice every little detail: the dark circles under your eyes and the dry lips from biting them so much, the slightly yellowish teeth, and the eye that was smaller than the other.

That's new, you thought. Only if you looked hard enough could you see how your right eye involuntarily closed a little more than the other, the more you looked at it in the mirror, the more obvious it was.

The sound of a pot falling followed by a grunt made you snap out of your morning exam. You walked quickly to the stairs going down in a hurry.

You were surprised to see Taehyung in the kitchen, his hands covered in whipped cream and the sweet smell of freshly baked bread. A small tight smile apologizing for waking you up.

"Uh," he wiped his hands clean and leaned closer to you, placing an awkward kiss on your forehead. "Happy Birthday."

"Thank you." You smiled softly, his hand found yours to guide you to the rustic table that he had made years ago, it was heavy and robust. It combined with everything that was seen in that kitchen, small details you had done here and there, but the smell of oak and the thick fabric of the curtains and the tablecloth were essentially Taehyung.

"I made you breakfast. You must eat it all or I'm really going to stop talking to you for a month."

As if he could.

"Because?"

"I spent all night trying to make whipped cream, found a book in the stack and it took me almost a dozen eggs to get it right."

"That's where you were last night." You smiled and he tensed, embarrassment painting his cheeks red. "Did you need a book to know how to follow our...?" You made an obscene gesture that made Taehyung turn to finish breakfast.

"You are so intense in the mornings."

"You've stopped smoking in the morning, have you noticed?"

Taehyung frowned. "It's true."

"I annoy you so much you don't need the nicotine to wake up."

"If that achievement makes you happy, go ahead." He crossed his legs as he sat down next to you. "Bon appétit."

You looked in front of you, on your plate was a piece of freshly baked bread toasted in the color of the sun. The whipped cream was smooth and slightly eggy, with peach slices decorated on top creating an attempt at a flower. The smell was intoxicating and your mouth watered from it.

Taehyung's chest swelled with joy as you took the first bite and inhaled. You looked at him tenderly. That human habit of food being the perfect language to show love without touching.

"It's good," you agreed taking another bite. "Did you try it?"

Taehyung denied raising his hand to ask you to continue tasting.

"I have something else for you," he said before you took another bite. You could see and hear in the silence of the kitchen how his foot bounced with eagerness to show you the other things.

Taehyung took a paper bag from his jacket hanging on the door and put it on your lap. His hands didn't let you open the material, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

"Slow down, Kim. For God's sake." you laughed looking at him. He imitated you.

"Sorry, it's just that I've been saving this for a long time."

You couldn't stop seeing him, it was impossible how much you loved him in such a short time. You looked down at your lap as he lowered your chin with his hand.

Inside the paper were many trinkets, colorful and very varied. Buttons, an old lighter with a rose carved on it, a ring in the shape of a butterfly, a deep red dried ink, and underneath it all the pale lace of a lingerie set.

You smiled as you put everything else aside and looked at the pieces in detail.

"Isn't there a more subtle way of saying you want to fuck me?" you joked

Taehyung didn't laugh, again he was looking at you with nervous eyes.

"I want to give you a portrait."

You put the lingerie on the table and looked at him. You knew that his painting materials were becoming more and more scarce. You denied it instantly.

"Don't worry, I'll use some oils that I have saved, they are in perfect condition and I want to use them with you." he rose clutching your face in his hands, like something ethereal. How could he see you in the morning and make you feel so lovely?

"I want to paint your lips," he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, "And your eyes."

"Even when one is smaller?"

He chuckled slightly at your sweet question.

"Especially the smaller one."

His hand grabbed the last bite of toast and opened your mouth with his thumb, delicately inserting it. "I told you to eat it all." his face was serious.

His thumb began to smear all the cream that remained in the corners of your mouth, pressing your lips while your tongue tried to lick his fingers.

"That is my girl." he hummed cocking his head at you.

Your toes tensed when you heard him say that.

"Open up," he commanded and you obeyed, opening your mouth to remove the sticky cream from his finger. He swallowedwhen he saw you lick every drop.

Your beautiful face, your messy hair, and your mouth covered in peach juices and whipped cream. So sweet and erotic that it made his stomach clench with the urge to eat you.

"I would like you to paint me in the summer, though."

"Because?"

"Because that way I could return the color to my cheeks, to see myself more..." you didn't know what the word was.

Taehyung could have cared less.

"Fine." he sighed and tossed the plate to the side with a crash. Suddenly, you were in his arms, he laid you down gently on the wood of the table.

"Tae?" a squeal came from you when you felt the cold in your pussy, Taehyung ripped your panties and began to rub his digits on your clit with such delicacy.

"Shh," he responded, grabbing the chair to walk over to the table and sit down. With one hand he brought your body closer to his face and began to run his tongue through your folds.

This is what he wanted to do last night and you didn't let him.

Your legs began to shake and he looked up through narrowed eyes. Your surprised face was so funny, it almost made him want to let you cum as fast as you let him.

"Spread your legs, let me see you." there was something so obscene about the way his voice deepened. He embarrassed you. "Aren't you going to let me eat you?"

You didn't know what to say.

"What happened that pretty girl who wouldn't shut the fuck up, huh?" His wet lips kissed your entrance with each word. "Where are your smart answers and the fucking questions about how I jerk off?" With one hand he hit your clit and you whimpered. "There it is." he smiled.

"God," you moaned so loud trying to get your nightgown down, it hurt so good. Taehyung squeezed your wrists with one hand and started devouring you again, your juices flowing on his nose and his tongue and you knew how much he liked it by the way he growled and bit the inside of your thigh.

It hurt but you couldn't stop moaning, your hands turning into claws from the tension wanting to grab his tangled hair, to see his face covered with it in a transparent and shiny layer.

"Atta, girl," he inhaled, snapping back. "Look at you," he smiled at you as he licked the edges of his lips. "The color is returning to your cheeks."

"What?" You stuttered before you felt how his hand collided with your ass. You screamed biting your lip.

"Come here."

His hand carried you to help your weak legs. With his hands under your armpits, he led you to the nearest wall.

"Get naked, pet."

"It's cold."

"Still?" Taehyung asked confused and piled the fabric of your dress in his hand until he found your wet pussy again. Without saying much, he inserted two fingers, curling the tips.

"More," you whispered, you were short of breath and you felt like you were in another cosmic plane with the long fingers of the man behind you.

His other hand began stroking your tummy until it reached your neck, squeezing gently. Hearing your sweet request, he laughed.

"You're a mess and I haven't even fucked you. Are you sure?"

You nodded awkwardly, your head pressed against the wall. A third finger was unexpected and burned.

"You're so wet, it's not fair." Kim sighed. "I want to do everything for you but you won't let me with that little body of yours."

"Mm," was all you could answer, your tongue was heavy and the knot under your stomach had you seeing stars.

"Those short dresses and the laughter and the erotic books and your perfect tits." he moaned turning you around to remove your dress.

Seeing your face again, Taehyung made up his mind; he couldn't take it anymore. Whipped cream decorated your cheek and your open mouth.

"Are you still cold?" His eyes saw you straight into your soul. You denied hugging his neck, hitting your lips with his.

If you didn't kiss him you felt like you were going to implode. His furrowed brows and his broad shoulders, the way he'd talk dirty to you but he'd kiss your shoulder calming your nerves.

There it was again, that tickle in your throat of saying things at the wrong time.

Shut me up with kisses, you thought, shut me up by sealing your lips with mine.

"More." Now it was Taehyung's turn to ask, moaning as he felt how your naked body hung from his waist.

He quickly lowered his pants until he took it off completely. Then his coat.

"Down," he murmured kissing you one last time crashing your body into the wall.

With one hand you grabbed his cock and started to move your hand. A cry came from him and you both nearly fell to the ground in a crash. Taehyung's legs failing from the sudden touch.

You laughed at Taehyung's irate gesture.

"In four. Now," he barked, after kissing you softly. "I want to fuck you, I don't want games anymore, 'kay?"

You nodded drunkenly at the way he spoke to you.

You stopped smiling when he repositioned you like a doll on your knees and hands.

You arched your back as you felt the tip stretch your entrance, you closed your eyes in pure pleasure. The sting was unbelievable, perfect.

"Mmhm," Taehyung ran his finger down your back, "Let me listen to you, love."

How can he call you that without melting?

You pushed yourself into him until your ass touched his pelvis. You both moaned each other's name.

"Fuck," he mumbled, grabbing both sides of your waist to guide your movements. The sounds that filled the kitchen were indecent, your cream accumulated at the base of his cock and your moans drove him crazy.

Yes, he was like a schoolboy when it came to you, he couldn't see your cleavage without wanting to touch himself or look at your lips without wanting to bite them so badly that they bled. You were in addition to his antidote, his new favorite morbidity.

"Atta girl, squeeze me more," he hissed at you slowing his pace down. His moans turned to whimpers as you began to feel the cum dripping down your thighs. You were about to cum and he could feel it. "Let me feel those walls, baby. Cum for me."

You lifted your upper body so you could move against him and with two brushes of his fingers on your puffy clit you began to scream his name letting your face fall into your hands.

You both panted hard, abruptly, Taehyung pulled his cock out, revealing how his cum came out of you. God, he prays that this is the one that knocks you up.

Getting up, he grabbed your delicate body and took you to the sofa, lit the fireplace, and left you alone for a few minutes. When he returned he brought with him a blank canvas the length of his forearm and a couple of charcoal pencils.

The afterglow had your cheeks with the most beautiful tint. Flushed and plump lips from biting it so much. You let your hair do what it wants, just how he likes it and you smiled at him when he sat down in front of you. You squinted your eyes when you smiled and his shoulders relaxed.

"Stay still, please," he whispered while he took a pencil in his hands.

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