#and I forget that both of my arms are sore and still recovering of new tatts

[decease-soul]

Mel is v tired

[delopsia]

A Sight For Sore Eyes | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 4200 Cross Posted Here on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, hand jobs involving a mirror, car sex, unprotected sex, and a hint of jealousy.

Rodeos this time of year always tend to be jam-packed; the closer the end of the rodeo season nears, the more people there will be. Flooding the usually quiet grounds with an incohesive blur of faces, both familiar and unfamiliar, all hoping to catch the best moments of the season, to say "I was there every step of the way" when the winner is announced in the end. 

It happens every year; come the end of the season, they'll filter out and forget about Wabang until next Autumn. So why are you feeling so uneasy about Maria Olivares cheering Rhett on from the bleachers?

Even the heaviness of this beat-up old jacket isn't enough to calm your anxious frettings; the boldened letters scrawled across your shoulders, 'R. Abbott', standing proud and reflecting in the stadium lights, is nothing but a suggestion to some. You trust Rhett, but you don't trust the girl screaming his name; can't trust that those giggling church girls next to you will keep to themselves when he comes walking over here.

No amount of Godliness will stop some women. 

The dull brim of a felt cowboy hat bumps into the back of your head, arms snaking around your waist and coiling firmly around you. Gently, they pull, drawing you into a firm chest, heaving, still recovering from his ride. You don't need to tilt your head to know who it is. 

"I'm starting to suspect you're intentionally knocking your hat into me," you tease, feeling his chin hook over your shoulder. 

Rhett just hums, rubbing his scruffy cheek against your soft one, just to get a rise of you, "just lettin' you know 'm here, doll."

Fingertips press into your side, urging you to turn around to face him; meeting his request rewards you with a pair of lips against your own, chaste and lingering in their typical Rhett fashion. You can taste the beer on his lips, can feel how they tremble against yours, veins still quivering with adrenaline and anxiety.

"I thought you had one more ride?" The announcer is still rambling, and you're...well, you're pretty sure you just watched him finish his second ride of the night. 

He hums, "I do," then kisses you again, "just wanted to love on my baby before I have to go back out there." 

There's giggling off to your left, pretty girls running manicured nails through long locks of blonde and brunette as they not-so-subtly vie for Rhett's attention. A part of you wants to spare them a glance, but the wiser half of your brain reminds you that they'll only feed off your attention. 

You find yourself spun back around, watching the next rider through the iron bars of the fence, all the while, Rhett's all tucked up in your shoulder; scruffy cheek against your ear, body pressed as close to you as he can get whilst he hugs you from behind. His jacket may not have been heavy enough of a reminder, but there's nothing quite like having him all cozied up to you like this. 

He's talking, mostly to himself, murmurings under his breath what the next guy scored, hypothesizing his new score on the charts. You can't understand half of it, but you find yourself wrapped up in it, hypnotized by the deep grumble of his voice. 

A heavy gust of wind blows past, sending goose bumps traveling across your exposed skin; it's barely November, and yet it already feels as if it could snow at any minute. Shivering, you squirm back into Rhett's chest, chasing the warmth that radiates off him so effortlessly. 

He sucks in a breath, large hands stilling your squirming hips, "can't tell if you're wanting me to keep you warm or if you're trying to get me to bend you right over this here fence." 

Your ass brushing against him through his jeans certainly hadn't been intentional, but when he puts it that way...

"Shit, baby," Rhett's gripping your hips as tightly as he can, fingertips threatening to leave bruises, but it's futile; you've already heard the soft grunt under his breath, already felt the unmistakable twitch of something hard against your ass.

The group of church girls has ambled closer to you at some point, close enough for you to smell the myriad of perfumes each time the wind blows. One of the girls you recognize, she'd been standing next to Maria on the bleachers just a little bit ago. 

"How long before your next ride?" You ask, nuzzling your cold nose into his dirty cheek. 

"Few minutes, give or take," there's a waver to his voice; whether that's nerves or what you're doing to him, you can't quite tell yet, "why? Tryin' to get me all riled up before my last ride?" 

Rocking yourself back into him, "maybe I am," teasing, as if you haven't done this countless times before, of varying degrees of success, "got a problem with it?"

He sighs, loud and dramatic, burying his face in your shoulder, "you're gonna ruin me."

Just as those words fall off his lips, a bright white cowboy hat waves from the chutes; you know what that means, and judging by the soul-crushing whine that ripples out of Rhett's throat, you know he's seen it. He's up next.

"You're so mean to me," practically peeling himself off you, "out here making me ride hard as hell."

It doesn't stop either of you from stealing a kiss; nothing can ever put an end to your pre-ride kisses, "do good, and I'll take care of you after." 

Rhett's cheeks redden, and with another stolen peck, he's stumbling off from whence he came. Walking a little stiffer than he normally does, and you know damn well those jeans have never been particularly forgiving.

It's easier to ignore the shrill voices this time.

As soon as the most recent rider has gotten out of dodge, you can see Rhett settling down on top of that absolute monster of a bull. You're only vaguely aware of the shrill voices crying his name, cheering him on as everything goes still. 

"This is not how I expected things to go."

The crutch clicks against the concrete with the softest sound as Rhett hobbles over to you, too stubborn to properly mind his now swollen ankle. You don't even know what to say; you want to scold him for putting all that weight on his ankle, but he's already reaching out for you with his free hand and drawing you in.

"Not what I expected either," he grumbles into your scalp; there's still a light shake under his skin, muscles quivering with something you haven't yet been able to identify. 

Rhett's cold nose brushes against the hollow of your cheek, too shy to ask you for a kiss when his buddies are still within earshot but too stubborn not to at least try for one. You suppose you'll entertain him just this once. 

"That looked like a nasty fall." 

That's not your voice, and it's certainly not his. There's a grumble against your cheek, and then he's drawing away to focus on whoever it is that's just joined you. 

Is that a pout, you spy?

"Well, it sure felt like one," he says, stiff. 

It was Maria's voice, you realize. You're not quite sure how long she's been idling behind you, but there she is. Her friends amble along behind her, there but not actively interested in the conversation she's sparked. 

You blink.

One moment you're standing just behind the chutes with Rhett, and the next, you're sitting in front of a blazing bonfire just a few paces behind the stadium. You don't quite recall ever seeing one of these after a rodeo, but then again, it's hard to stick around for the afterparty when Rhett always seems to come off those bulls ready to jump your bones. 

There are more people than you thought; most of the benches have been taken up by blurry faces that you don't care to pay much mind. The bench Maria's posse has chosen is a small one, barely enough room for all of you to fit on it. Sitting in Rhett's lap would usually be your solution to the lack of space, but that swollen ankle offers a strong argument. 

"You sure it's okay for my leg to be on yours?" Ever the gentleman, Rhett's already fussing about his predicament. You've solved the seating predicament by letting Rhett settle his thigh atop yours, invading each other's space in a way that really shouldn't be comfortable. 

Wandering fingers squeeze his jean-clad thigh. "I don't mind," you insist. It's hard to be bothered when you've been given the perfect opportunity to touch those thick thighs, feel the hard muscle quiver underneath your palm.

Maria's talking, and as much as you'd like to listen, it's hard to hear her over all the other distractions. Distractions that include Rhett's rodeo buddies making a drinking game out of whoever can tear the biggest piece off this wooden pallet, a girl arguing with her boyfriend about his choice of alcohol and this absolutely meaty thigh that's in your hand. 

"Spacin' out?" It's clear Rhett's not paying attention either, with the way he's whispering in your ear. 

Tilting your head to his buddies, "just waiting on one of them to get a hell of a splinter." If his ankle wasn't so busted, you're sure he'd be right over there with them. 

Tentatively, your hand starts to migrate, crawling at a snail's pace from just above his knee to the warm, sensitive area of his inner thigh. If he feels it, he doesn't say anything. There should be a hickey somewhere around this spot. You still remember leaving it on him, some soft red mark that grew into a vibrant purple the morning after.

You know you've found it when his eye twitches, chest rising with a deep, heavy breath. Still, he remains fixated on the conversation he's been wrapped into. 

More fun for you. 

Disguised as a loving, subconscious movement, your hand keeps going. Massaging shapes into the soft give of his thigh. Spirals right along that bruise that stands out so prettily from his pale skin. The most he offers you is a wayward glance and an exaggerated huff. 

So you have no choice but to hook your fingers up into the thin skin of where his thigh meets; you're rewarded with a shiver that visibly ripples its way up his spine. 

"You alright?" You hear Maria ask, and oh, if she only knew. 

Just as Rhett brushes it off as a meaningless shiver, you excuse yourself to the restroom. 

The truth is, you really did have to go, but did you know Rhett would follow you like a lost puppy? Did you intentionally step into the small, single-room bathroom on the far end of the stadium just to have that added privacy when he inevitably came knocking?

Mayhaps. 

It's just as you're drying your hands that you hear the telltale sound of knuckles against the metal door. Damn, and here you'd thought there would be enough time to fix your clothes in the reflection of this big mirror they've recently installed. 

"You're tryna kill me." Rhett gets it out before the door is even fully open. Even with his crutch, he's already stepping into the bathroom before you can process his admittedly swift arrival. 

"So you'll finally admit you have sensitive thighs?" Taunting, even as he crowds you back up against the cold wall. 

His eyes just about roll into the back of his head," they're not sensitive." 

Whatever you say, Rhett.

And then he's leaning down to kiss you, one peck, two, three until he can't find it in himself to pry himself away anymore. Sharp teeth nip at your bottom lip, gently pulling on it until your mouth properly opens with a surprised gasp. 

He tastes like cheap beer; you don't remember seeing him drink tonight, but there isn't a doubt in your mind that he downed an entire can the moment they popped his ankle back into place. It explains the sloppiness of how his tongue wrangles with yours, easily coaxed down from aggressiveness and into soft, tickling licks that has him grumbling against your lips. 

Your lips wrap around his tongue, sucking softly as he retreats to kiss you proper. One hand caresses your cheek, the other crawling down to seize your hip in a firm grip that draws you up against him. 

Maybe it's the injury, or maybe it's the alcohol, but it's so easy to push yourself forward, and in one swift motion, his back is hitting the wall instead. 

"Unfortunately," kissing the tip of his red nose, "I had other plans for how this might go."

"Other plans?" Yet, despite the uncertainty in his voice, he melts into your hand, all the same, nuzzling against your warm palm as it cradles his bruised cheek.

There's no subtlety in the way you cup him through his jeans, rewarding him with a little pressure on his half-hard cock. His head hits the wall with a soft thunk.

"I can get behind this."

It's cute how willingly he lets you guide him up in front of that shiny new mirror; the poor guy hasn't realized what schemes you've come up with the moment you saw it. At least, he's willing until you sidle up behind him.

"What're you doin'?" Again, he doesn't protest the hand that slides up under his flannel, nails raking against his gently defined stomach.

You hum, "just admiring my cowboy."

Another shiver.

Hm.

A wayward thumb slips over a dusky pink nipple; hadn't exactly meant to touch him there, but the way his body jolts under your touch has you reconsidering your agenda. 

"Fuckin' quit that," a shallow warning, laced with a venom you've become insusceptible to. 

You're careful to throw him off your scent, opting instead to busy yourself with unbuttoning this blue flannel, revealing his chiseled frame more with each and every button. Those pretty muscles are still swollen from his rides tonight, more prominent than they are typically, and you can't resist touching them again. 

Tentatively, one hand settles on the side of his neck, and when his eyes briefly flutter shut, you know you've found your chance.

Wetting the pad of your thumb with your tongue, you repeat your offense from before. And oh, does he damn near jump again.

"Sensitive?" A part of you is curious about which he'll admit to first; sensitive thighs or sensitive nipples? 

Rhett huffs at that, tearing his eyes away from the mirror in opt for staring at the empty trashcan. That doesn't stop him from squirming as you tug at the little bud, rolling it back and forth until it's hardened and red. And then you're letting it go in favor of fumbling with that god-forsaken belt buckle and popping open the button of his jeans. 

A little hesitation gets him looking back at you again, barely fiddling with the edge of his waistband. As soon as his eyes meet yours in the mirror, your hand slips under the waistband of his boxers. 

"Oh," his eyes flutter as you take him into your hand, heavy and already leaking into your half-open palm. 

You're amazed at just how wet he's gotten, just from your light teasing. The glide of your hand is slick, so, so easy that it's as if you've lubed him up. Absolutely glistens in the light when you pull him from his boxers.

"And here I'd thought it would be difficult to get you this worked up," kissing at his neck as you speak, and he just melts right into you. Stumbling as he unintentionally puts weight on that ankle, crutch flailing for better purchase on the ground. 

"You've had me hard for the past forty minutes," he fusses, but even his attempt to sound annoyed cannot hide the sudden pitchiness to his voice; putty in your hands as your hand works him up and down in tight strokes. 

He looks away from the mirror again. You stop. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," in his surprise, Rhett just about thrashes against you, and you're sure he would if he weren't relying on that crutch, "why'd you stop?"

"Look at yourself in the mirror," you tell him, "and I'll keep going." 

In no place to argue with you, Rhett forces his gaze back onto that sparkling new mirror, just barely able to look you in the eye through the reflection. The hand on his neck migrates up, cradling his stubbled jaw; the other starts stroking him again. Slow and tentative, anticipating for him to get nervous and break away once more. 

He doesn't. 

His hips squirm with each and every slick stroke; it's so quiet that you can hear the soft squelch of your palm along his dripping tip. You don't recall a time when you were able to draw this sort of reaction out of him, and you're quite sure you could never forget something like this. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by a sudden warmth around two of your fingers. "Rhett?"

He hums around your fingers, hot tongue swirling around the digits, softly sucking on them as he does so. Fuck, isn't he a sight for sore eyes.

The felt hat on his head damn near falls off when your hand quickens, wrist twisting at the end of each stroke in the same fashion you've seen him do to himself. With nothing but an iron grip on his crutch to hold himself up, he's powerless to do nothing more than whine around your fingers and take it.

"Not here," he gasps, loud and breathy, "fuck, please—don't wanna cum here." 

Even though it was his call, he still squirms when your hand comes to a halt at his base, squeezing firmly but not enough to hurt him. "Then where?"

"Don't care," teeth scrape your fingers as they slide past his swollen lips, "you've had me wanting to fuck you all night." 

And who are you to argue over such a suggestion?

"We're really going to fuck here?" For a man with a history like his, Rhett sure can be fussy about location, "what if someone sees us?" 

You're not quite sure what he was expecting; who wants to wait thirty minutes to get to your bedroom when you have this perfectly good bench seat, just begging to be used instead? 

"Maybe I want someone to," teasing; in reality, you'd likely find yourself mortified that someone was witness to such an intimate act between you and your cowboy, but it's nice just to earn that eye-roll out of him. 

Despite his protesting, Rhett settles himself into the middle passenger seat, eagerly welcoming you into his lap the moment you've finished shucking your pants off. As soon as you've settled atop him, he's seizing you by the jaw and kissing you so suddenly that your teeth clack together. 

Vaguely, you're aware of his hat falling off his head, falling onto the driver's seat without a sound. Curious hands run through those tangled locks, scraping against his scalp in a fashion that has him keening against your lips. Such a simple act rewards you with the delicious sensation of calloused fingers running up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, tickling up, up, up until they meet the tiny band of your underwear.

They slip right underneath.

"Fuck," murmuring right against your lips, index finger delving into your dripping heat, his thumb finding your clit. It's so sudden that you can't stop the noise that leaves you, squirming away from the finger that's vigorously working you open for him. 

Rhett chuckles against your lips, holding you in place with a firm hand on your hip, "don't run from me, baby," his finger curls inside of you, catching against that spongey little spot inside of you that has you jolting in his grasp, "there? Is that your little sweet spot, doll?"

You're kissing him again just to shut his filthy mouth up, fumbling with the buttons of his jeans as quickly as you can. Can't stop him from licking into your mouth like a man starved, overwhelms you so much that you almost forget to pull him out of his boxers. 

"That's an awful lot of talk for a man who's leaking like a faucet," and you save yourself from the consequences of your words by gliding your palm around his sensitive head.

Rhett's head hits the back of the seat, eyelashes fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. Adam's apple bobbing, unable to produce anything but a strangled moan. 

You're reaching for your underwear, thumbs hitching under the waistband to pull them off when you're stopped by a shaky hand. 

"Keep 'em on," you're not sure if that's a request or an order, but he's already taken the initiative to tug them off to the side, cock brushing against your wet folds.

Slowly, you take a second to drag him up, head rubbing against your clit, and then back down until he catches on your entrance. Even with the dripping wetness between the two of you, there's still a dull ache that blossoms as his thick head slips past your rim, disappearing the second he twitches inside of you.

"Mm, what a pretty sight you are," grunting, Rhett's thumb finds your clit again, rubbing loose circles into the swollen bud, "ridin' a cowboy in the cab of his own fuckin' truck."

"Consider it your reward for not breaking your neck," your voice is strained, wound tight by the sudden thickness splitting you open. Finally, finally, your hips meet flush against each other, and you need a minute just to catch your breath. 

The pace you set is almost painfully slow, your hips rising and falling languidly, absolutely savoring the drag of his head inside your quivering cunt. Rhett's finding his footing, lazily thrusting up to meet you halfway, making this absolutely wet sound each and every time. It's hard to keep up this pace, but you fear how the truck may rock if you go much faster.

"Come on, darlin'," frustration in his voice, laced tightly from his inability to do nothing but take what you chose to give him," show this cowboy how to—oh."

Clenching as tightly as you can around him, you pick up your speed, thighs burning with the effort it takes to ride him in such a small space. And here you were, trying to keep people from turning their heads.

"Is this what you want, hm?" Lacing your fingers through his hair and pulling, "to get ridden so hard that people notice the truck moving with it?"

That's enough to shut him up; mouthy comments reduced to nothing but guttural moans and gasps as you give him the very thing he asked for. Baby blue eyes glazed over, thumb still sloppily working your swollen clit like it's the only thing he knows how to do.

"'m already close," Rhett warns, and his voice sounds so loud in this quiet little cab, "gonna cum."

You're not there yet, but you just keep going, hips rising and falling with that same damn pace that you can feel rocking the truck. Rhett's squirming under you, hips twitching up in futile little motions as you work him closer and closer to his peak. 

"Darlin—" his eyes roll into the back of his head, body going taut as he cums deep inside of your cunt. Thick, hot spurts coating your walls, filling you with everything he has to offer.

You ride him through it, still chasing the high you can feel starting to build up, spurred on by the needy gasps falling off his swollen lips and the obscene squelch of his cock pushing his own cum out of you. 

Sure hope Sherrif Joy isn't still around because you don't think you can stop.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he babbles, "baby—shit, fuckin' sensitive." He's damn near about to squirm right out from underneath you, keening so loud you fear someone may hear you. 

Shoving two fingers into his agape mouth, "hold on for me, cowboy."

Those eyes go wide, and his thumb presses down a little harder, giving you those tight little circles you didn't know you were needing until now. And isn't this something you've been needing to see all your life; Rhett Abbott sucking on and crying out around your fingers as you ride his oversensitive cock with everything you've got. 

"Please, please cum," he begs, "please, please, please."

That's all it takes. Seizing up as your orgasm hits you like a freight train, thighs clamping down on his hips as your body spasms and flutters around him with a soft cry. His thumb keeps working you through it, spiraling over and over until you're coming down from it with a shudder.

Rhett's staring up at you with this absolutely dopey look, chest heaving up and down like he's just run a marathon, "I didn't know I could cum again that fast."

You can't stop the laugh that ripples through you, only to his oversensitive expense, "suppose that means I'm not getting another round out of you when we get home?"

"Absolutely fuckin' insatiable." 

[kuroosdumbslut]

Hi, i love your blog.

Can you write plese some snape x reader… start with fluff but end with little angst. Thank you love.

Severus Snape x Reader: Not Quite Safe, but Never Alone

This one kinda sucks, but it's all I could think of, and of course I forgot you wanted it to end with angst, but there's a touch of it in there! I'm a sucker for fluff and I had 0 self-control lol

It had been six months by now since the war ended. Six months since you had nearly lost your husband. You still remember thanking Harry over and over again for finding him and getting him help so soon. Severus now stood next to you with his hair tied back and out of his way, a habit he kept since his recovery. You couldn’t help but smile up at him, just grateful he’s still here with you. “Where are we going today, my love?” Severus asked quietly, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand he held. Since he’s been well enough, he’s made a point to take you out on weekly dates. Even if they’re smaller dates, he always takes you out to lunch or dinner. “We could try that new restaurant that just opened up next to Madam Puddifoot's. I heard they have an amazing menu.” Severus smiled fondly and headed in the direction of the shop, one of several shops the couple was hoping to visit. 

However, as you both knew this day would one day come, a few ex Death Eaters stormed through the doors and immediately started throwing curses at both you and Severus. Severus, thankfully, was still hyper aware of his surroundings and was able to throw up a ward around you to protect you from oncoming spells, but a particularly nasty hex caught Severus straight in the chest. Horrified, you let out an anguished scream and dove to his side, sending a few hexes of your own at the attackers and sighed in momentary relief as you saw Harry and Neville both appear just a moment later to detain them. 

As he constantly seemed to be thinking ahead, Harry and Neville both had asked for a medi-witch to come on scene immediately before coming. Now, just a few hours and several visits from Neville and a few other Ministry officials, Severus was once again in a hospital bed. At least, this time, he was much more conscious. “Are you sure you weren’t hit, love? They were tossing spells around like insolent first years.” With huffed laughter and a gentle squeeze to his hand, you assured him once more. “Severus, darling, you’ve asked me that nearly ten times. I’m fine. That ward you put around me protected me, I’m more worried about you. Are you okay?” Severus sighed discontentedly and squeezed your hand back. “I’m sore, to be honest, but nothing I haven’t felt before. I’m angry those bastards managed to track me down and nearly killed you. I’ll be sure to plan, hopefully safer, dates for us once I’m out of here, I promise-” You cut him off by gently pressing your lips to his and hushed him softly. “My love, we can worry about date nights and other activities later. I’m safe. You protected me like it was nothing. We may not be entirely safe, but you know I’m never leaving your side.” You paused to press gentle kisses to the scars on his neck and another, even softer kiss, to the bandages covering his chest. “We’ll be okay, Sev. Don’t forget, you’re free from any previous obligations you had. We can leave or move out to a much more rural area. I’d be more than happy to help you start and work with you on your own potions business I know you’ve been dying to start since the war ended. We can make our own life, love. But for now, I need you to rest and recover so I can sleep in your arms again, alright?” Severus groaned quietly and lolled his head onto yours, taking a deep breath and whispering his agreement. “You’re right, of course. We can deal with life after I get out of this damn bed. Though, I will say, I…I think we should move. Move and start our own life, make a business…be happier.” You grinned and pressed your face against the back of his hand. “I love you, Sev. You better prepare to be housebound for at least a week or so, I have no intentions of not being cuddled up with you when you get home.” Severus snorted and ran his free hand through your hair. “I’d expect nothing less of you, my love.”

[roscgcld]

HEADCANON + FUSHIGURO MEGUMI || relationship things

request: Can you do sfw and nsfw relationship hcs for Fushiguro

note: hello love! i wouldn’t mind doing some hcs for our little shy bean! tbh, i am not going to lie, this did not take me long to thing lmao - this is my first nsfw work on this blog tho! so this was definitely fun.

pronouns: them/they

note: aged-up!fushiguro! x reader, nsfw content below - please skip if you’re uncomfortable

other than that, enjoy~

sfw

if you two ever share a home together, i feel like he’s the kind of guy who would string fairy lights around your home because it’s cozy to him? 

definitely have dog themed couple items - matching dog themed slippers, mugs, even decorative plates if you allow him to

bet you they are both modelled after his shikigami dogs - since they were the first shikigami to submit to him. so they always hold a special place in his heart

i feel like even though he trains hard, he still likes to keep his hands in good condition. so there is tubes of hand lotion scattered everywhere, at the most random of places by the way

speaking to that - you two might have manicure weekends at home; where he’d spend some time just trimming and caring for his hands and fingernails. he’d do yours if you ask him to

sometimes he’d come home dead tired and just collapses on you wordlessly - wrapping his arms around you tightly whilst burying his face into your neck 

would sigh in content when you wrap your arms around him and hold him close, just running your fingers through his hair gently and tracing your fingers down the back of his neck

if you try to ask him about work, he’d either tell you everything in detail or nothing at all - there is no in between 

most times it’s just him grumbling about gojo and yuji, who he’d once said they both ‘shave so many years off my life just by breathing’

when he’s away on missions, he’ll call you just so you two can go about your day. no words are needed, but he just wants to hear you go about your day. it calms him down, and reminds himself that you’re going to be there for him

weekend visits to his sister - who survived the Shibuya incident and is now recovering slowly under the care of Ieiri (this is not canon by the way - in the manga we still have no idea how things are gonna turn out for her after the whole Geto thing)

having random members of the zen’in clan coming to your shared home asking if you’d talk to them about trying to convince fushiguro to become a zen’in

if fushiguro is home at the time, he’d send his devine dog on them; listening to their terrified screams with a pleased smile as they ran away from your home

“that’s not really nice, gumi.” 

“yeah, yeah - wanna go grab some bingsu?”

honey, you are set for life by the way - mans can cook a bomb ass meal. and from what we know, learns quick too. so if you want to try something new, just give him a few minutes to google and watch a tutorial on it and i bet your ass he can recreate it down to a t

feel like he gives the best massages - don’t tell me otherwise. his hands are definitely made for more then just battles

enjoys it when you would whisper sweet nothings to him after a long week of work - getting more and more cuddly the longer you shower him in praises

he’s more talkative around you compared to others, more willing to share his emotions and how he’s feeling - even though sometimes he finds it hard to find the right words

he lets you wear his clothes - shirts, sweaters, hoodies, sweats. you name it, he’d just gives it to you. finds it cute how you’re drowned in the fabric

enjoys blow drying your hair; idk, i just see him with a peaceful expression on his face, carefully blow drying your hair for you after a warm shower together

would give you actual advice on your outfit - i feel like he’s the one who helps yuji and nobara put together their outfits together whenever they go out of town

nothing is out of place in your home - there is always a compartment for it, or a space on the shelf, or in a drawer

cooking dates together - if you can’t cook, he’ll teach you. if you can cook, you two will try something new together

feel like he’s a dark chocolate fanatic - so you guys will always have a shit ton of chocolate in your home

on some days you’ll come home and just have nue stretched out over your living room, your boyfriend just watching the tv before him whilst petting the owl-like shikigami like it’s a domesticated cat

“oh, hey babe.” he’d greet with a casual nod at you whilst you stand in the hallway, blinking in confusion

idk, i feel like you two have a chilled but lowkey chaotic relationship - since he is friends with gojo, yuji and nobara. but it’s still really loving, with more physical instead of verbal shows of affection. you’ll be treated like a queen/king, and as long as megumi has it, he will make sure you know how much he loves you, even if he’s not by your side due to work

nsfw

okay, i get he’s all innocent and is dense in everything else besides jujutsu - but you have to remember this dude’s dad is fushiguro fucking togi

don’t tell me this man is kink-less - there is no fucking way 

i mean yeah, when you two first get down and dirty together, i feel like he’s all awkward and unsure at first, since he didn’t want to hurt you 

but i get this vibe that he knows exactly what he wants - but let’s remember he’s still a shy bean that refuses to do anything with you until he is 100% comfortable

stress sex happens often - i can bet you that this man will probably come home with a dark look on his face, push you onto the nearest flat surface and just grinds against your ass

people keep saying that he’s a boobs man - and i can see that. doubt he really gives a shit about the size, he just enjoys how he can play with your nipples and have you squirm underneath him 

he enjoys tugging your hair - there is just something about wrapping your soft strands between his fingers whilst he fucks you hard; hearing your voice loud and clear

feel like he’s a doggy man; enjoys running his large hand down your back and gripping the back of your neck. how he can shove your face into the mattress whilst fucking you silly from the back

lowkey has a dumbification kink - enjoys whenever you fucked so good by him that you’re basically drooling and babbling absolute nonsense at him

enjoys leaving hickeys on places you’d never notice at first - on your back, back of your hip, small of your back, shoulder blades. he enjoys you coming up to him with a blush on your face and smacking his shoulder, whining to him that nobara and maki saw the hickeys he left all over to you

bruises on your hips are also a common thing too - he’s hands are so strong and rough that sometimes he just forgets that your skin is delicate and you can bruise easily. he’ll apologise, then add new ones on top of the old ones 

enjoys choking you as well - loves to feel your racing pulse under his fingertips and how you tighten around him whenever he tightens his old around you more

dacryphilia - definitely feels a thrill go through him when you’d look up at him with tear soaked lashes and stained cheeks. makes him take you harder 

doesn’t always enjoy a blowjob - idk why, i feel like he’s more into giving that receiving. goes with his dacryphilia kink too - will stay with his head between your thighs until you’re crying and shaking whilst you try to push him away

definitely enjoys pinning you down, either with his hands or with ropes and handcuffs, but he’s not interested in the entire bdsm thing

enjoys buying you lacy lingerie, regardless of what gender you are, and just have you put them on to show him; only to then rip it off of you as he pins you down on the sofa

he’s somewhat of a soft dom, he wants to protect you and always make sure you’re going to be enjoying yourself. but he’s not above using your body for his own pleasure

he’s not a loud man - a loud grunt from time to time, low groans and growls. but he’s not loud in bed. but enjoys it when you’re loud

man loves the aftercare process - cleans you up gently with a towel, making sure you’re hydrated, getting you snacks if you’re hungry, rubbing your sore muscles. he views it as intimate and cherishes those moments when you lean on him the most

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || your newest client asks you to give him a real challenge, and you’re happy to oblige.  

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 6.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut but no actual sex (lots of handjob stuff though and some brief oral m receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, more cnc (because of the overstimulation), bondage, edging, impact play (riding crop), brief cock torture (she just hits him with the crop a couple times), implied “kink as trauma response” (this is gonna be a theme throughout the whole fic), forced to break a rule/doomed to fail/impossible challenge (idk how to warn for this but yeah), forced voyeurism?, thigh riding (reader rides bucky’s thigh), some degradation/dumbification, brief/implied dacryphilia, a bit of angst/feelings

new parts posted on thursdays!  join the taglist here

“Can’t,” he sighed, “can’t come again.”

He looked so painfully adorable when he begged like that, his brow glistening with sweat as he jerked under your touch.  “Aw, poor baby,” you pouted, twisting your hand when it stroked over the head of his cock, “yes you can.  I know you can.  Just gimme one more.”

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, “Mistress, please— just stop, please, I can’t… can’t take any more…”

“I know you can, sweetheart— I know you can be my good boy and keep coming for me.  Tell me your color.”

“Yellow,” he whispered.

“Think you’re almost done?” you pressed, smiling when he nodded breathlessly.  “Yeah, there’s my good boy— gonna come again for your Mistress?”

“Yes,” he breathed, baring his teeth as his hips bucked wildly to try to avoid further sensation, “y-yes, one more, just one more, I’m gonna— fuck, gonna come, just don’t stop… fuck, it hurts.”

“I know, but you’re being so good for me,” you purred.  “You like it when I milk your pretty cock, don’t you?  Even though it hurts?”

He winced but nodded.  “C-coming, Mistress, fuck, I’m coming…!”

Since it was his fifth of the evening, he could only give you one thick drop of come that gathered at his slit before running down over your hand which finally slowed to a stop.

You both sighed with relief as you pulled your hand away and leaned back, admiring how beautiful he looked as he caught his breath, covered in come and sweat.

"Good job," you praised with a chuckle, "I hope I didn't go too hard on you."

"N-no, that was… that was really good," he sighed, slumping back onto the bed.  "Can I use your shower before I go?"

"Yeah, totally," you nodded.

After a long pause, you gave him a confused look.  

"I thought you were gonna shower?" you reminded him.

"Oh… I guess I have to get up for that," he sighed, making you laugh.

"Rest a bit longer.  You've had a… challenging afternoon."

He nodded a little and you got up from the bed to go wash your hands and freshen up a little, smiling at your own appearance in the mirror— sometimes you forgot how you looked when you did this, but there was an undeniable aura of power around you… especially after a session like that.

This was only your third week with James, and already the dynamic felt so natural between you— and yet, so fresh compared to your other clients.  Normally it took longer for a newbie to get comfortable with you, yet most of them had had multiple doms before and here was James, totally inexperienced and taking it all like a champ.  There was an air of innocence about him, you figured, in contrast to this undeniable strength and intensity that you caught glimpses of from time to time.

Sometimes, it felt like he was chasing an innocence he lost a long time ago.  Whatever it was that drew him to this, you were happy to help him along the way.

It was probably a little dangerous to enjoy sessions with a client so much; even though you often pretended that everything was about your pleasure and not theirs, obviously since they were the paying customer it was the complete opposite in reality.  But there was an equity to the dynamic with you and Bucky, he served you with a real dedication rather than for his own gain.  And you, meanwhile, had rediscovered the fun in this career that had originally drawn you to it in the first place.  It was less like a science now, more like an art— you let yourself go with your instincts and do whatever felt right in the moment, and both of you benefitted for it.  

“Come on, get up and clean yourself off,” you encouraged— gently, of course— as you left the bathroom and returned to find James laying sprawled out on the bed.

“I know you said falling asleep here was a one-time courtesy,” he remembered with a smile, “but I could use it now a lot more than I needed it then.”

Honestly, you didn’t see him smile that often.  It was pleasant; you hoped to see it again.  He did get up, though, and take the washcloth you handed him to wipe off the come that had gotten all over him.  “What are you thinking for next week?” you asked as you leaned against the wall.  “Any special requests?”

“We can discuss all that over the phone,” he decided.  You still didn’t understand fully why he didn’t like to discuss future scenes in person; it was like he wanted the in-person interactions to be as ‘in character’ (if you will) as possible.

“Alright, just keep me updated,” you requested with a shrug.

You got changed while he took his shower, and when he emerged to the living room he seemed surprised to see you sitting on your own couch.  After a moment, you realized it was the fact that you were in normal clothes that threw him off.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans before… or pants of any kind.”

You looked down at your outfit with a smile, glad it was at least still professional and not sweats and a t-shirt or something.  “Yeah, I guess you haven’t.  First time for everything, right?”

“Yeah, had a lot of first times with you,” he chuckled.  “Most significantly less mundane than this.”

A brief silence filled the room but it wasn’t exactly awkward, at least not for you.

“Well, I’ll see you next week,” he decided as he grabbed his jacket from your chair and slipped it on.  You’d been spending most of this session trying to forget how good he looked in the leather motorcycle cut, so that was out the window now as you tried to keep from visibly biting your lip while he walked towards the door.

Damn, he was fine.  But there were more pressing matters at hand.  Like preparing yourself and your apartment for your next appointment.  This guy wanted to get slapped around until he cried… shouldn't be too difficult, but your arms would probably be sore tomorrow.

Opposite of last week, I really want you to edge me tonight, as long as possible.

Don't go easy on me, make me hold it in.  I need a challenge this week.

-J

It was odd how emails from James made your week.

He seemed to prefer to communicate his desire with you this way; maybe it was easier for him, and you couldn’t really blame him for that.  The nice part was that you didn’t have to temper your reactions, if you had any, since you were always alone when you got his messages.  You might be old hat at it now, but you could remember a time that you had to hide a grimace when a client told you to your face what he wanted.  Not that you would shame them for it or anything (unless, you know, they paid you to), but you didn’t enjoy everything you did with these men.

Did you enjoy everything you did with James?  Yes, but you were pretending not to— for your own sake.

You dressed a bit differently for today’s session, more conservatively… not that it was especially conservative by any other person’s standards.  But it left your legs and chest covered, somewhat in the spirit of ‘mean corporate businesswoman’ aesthetically.  For some reason you felt like using a riding crop required wearing pants.

James certainly didn’t seem to mind, with the way he nervously cleared his throat after you opened the door.

“Good to see you again,” you greeted formally, “please, come in.”

He stepped past you, still looking at you and not at what was in front of him, meaning he ended up slamming himself gut-first into your kitchen island.

“Oh!  Are you alright?” you smiled when you noticed. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded, rubbing his stomach for a second but recovering quickly.  “I told you I can take a lot of pain,” he joked.

“Well, we’re going to put that to the test today,��� you promised cryptically.  “You must’ve seen the crop on the table.”

He nodded again.  “Yeah....”

“Are you looking forward to it?”

“Yes,” he answered, a bit too quickly.

“Then let’s get you tied up, James.”

Straddling his lap, you realized the rope was a bit too tight when you saw it digging into his skin; maybe he wouldn’t mind that, but you did, so you pushed the rope back through itself to loosen it slightly.

“How long did it take you to learn all these knots?” he asked casually, watching your fingers nimbly work the ropes around his wrists.

“Not too long,” you shrugged, “I’ve only been doing this a few years… but I knew them before that.”

“Boating school?  Boy Scouts?” he suggested jokingly.

“Just a hobby,” you decided, dodging the covert question about your past.  “Were you a Boy Scout?”

“Do I look like a Boy Scout?” he countered with a scoff.

“Not anymore,” you shrugged, “but I bet you did once.  You’re sorta innocent, you know.”

He swallowed dryly, and you raised an eyebrow as you glanced from the knot you were tightening to his face, which looked a bit flustered.  “R-really?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, leaning back on your heels to look at him straight-on.  “Are you surprised to hear that?”

He nodded quickly, and you laughed.

“Aw, you thought you were so kinky, huh?  So dirty,” you purred, running your hand up his leg until he tugged slightly on the newly-tied ropes— a subtle way to get him to test them for you.  “But you’re really not.  You’re just my sweet, innocent boy.”

He whined— really, properly whined— and you dug your nails into his skin until he hissed instead.

“I don’t think you believe me,” you noticed, leaning back to reach for the crop behind you.  “You think you’re so filthy and perverted, right?  Are you a pervert, James?”

“Yes,” he breathed, shivering as you let the crop slide gently over his skin— his abs, his hips, his legs which were already quivering so adorably.  “Yes, Mistress.”

“And how’s that?”

“I think about… getting hurt,” he admitted weakly, “when I touch myself.  And I touch myself all the fucking time.”

“Yeah?  How many times a day do you stroke that pretty cock, James?”

“Twice every morning,” he blurted out, “after that it depends.”

You didn’t let yourself show your surprise at that number.  “Depends on what?”

When he hesitated, you hit him sharply on the thigh and he winced.  “Depends on what I… what I end up thinking about.  Sometimes… sometimes something reminds me, and I have to get off.”

Something told you not to press on what it was that he needed to be reminded of, and why it made him want to jerk off so bad.  Something told you he wasn’t ready to tell that story yet.  “Did you touch yourself today already?” you asked instead.

“No, no ma’am,” he shook his head, voice wavering as you brushed the crop over his chest, “it’s… it’s different with you.”

“Yeah, I bet it is,” you smirked, hitting him on the stomach quickly.  “I bet you’re finally satisfied, right?  Nothing’s ever worked for you before.”

“Yes,” he moaned, crying out slightly when you hit him on the arm (flesh— you were too afraid what sound the metal one would make) much harder than before.  “The nights I see you, I… I can sleep.”

“You sleep better?”

“No, I just… sleep.”

You tried not to react to that, moving to a new question instead.  “Do you want me to hit you again?  Or do you want me to stroke your cock for you?”

An obvious choice to some, surely, but he seemed to really struggle with it.

“Which one do you think you deserve?” you asked instead.

“Hit me more,” he decided.

Instantly, you struck him once on the face and again on the shoulder, then moved down to his legs for three in a row in spite of the way his body jerked away instinctively.  

“Fuck,” he sobbed, “don’t stop— I need more…”

You focused on his legs, on the inside of his thigh where he seemed the most sensitive.  His twisted joy turned to true fear, though, when you brushed the end of the crop over his balls.  “Do you want me to hit you here?” you challenged.

“I… I don’t know,” he stammered.

“Let’s make a deal, James,” you offered, “wherever I hit you, I’m gonna kiss it to make it better.”

“Then hit me wherever you want,” he nodded, almost smiling at you.  He cried through his teeth when you whipped his shaft with the crop— not especially hard, in fact quite delicately, though the second was harder.  And the third, though not much more aggressive, was right on the sensitive tip; his eyes shot open and his hips jerked away.

“So good, such a good boy,” you whispered proudly, putting the crop aside to lean in and kiss his cheek where you’d hit him before, his shoulder, his arm.

You worked your way down carefully as he breathed heavily beneath you, whimpering slightly when you kissed his thighs and notably ignored his flexing, leaking cock.  “Please,” he whimpered.

“Shh, be patient,” you soothed, “be my good boy.”

“Your good boy,” he repeated, trying to restrain himself but already bucking up into the air again, “fuck, wanna be your good boy, Mistress.”

“Are you already close, pet, just from getting hurt?” you asked in a faux pout.  “You’re not gonna come if I give your pretty cock some kisses, right?”

“I— I won’t come,” he promised.  “Not until I get permission.”

“Baby, it’s gonna be a long fuckin’ time before you get permission,” you promised with a toothy grin.  “Look down at me, honey, I want you to see this.”

He hesitated for a second but obeyed, looking down at you with an expression that was full of awe as you gripped his cock and gave gentle, teasing kisses up his shaft.  It bobbed in your hands with each one, and he let out the most beautiful sigh when you kissed the tip carefully.

A wide lick made him jerk beneath you.  “F-Fuck,” he stammered.

“You said you wouldn’t come,” you reminded him.  “Can I keep going?  Are you gonna be a good boy?”

“Don’t stop, please,” he breathed, “I’ll be good.”

Taking the head between your lips, you suckled gently as he shivered and moaned.  You weren’t sure you’d ever been with anybody— on or off the clock— who was so sensitive.  And you loved it, honestly; who could resist those precious noises he made?

As much as part of you wanted to go nuts and really push him to the edge, you tried to be gentle and careful so as not to make it impossible for him to hold back.  But even then, when you gently grasped his balls in one of your hands and squeezed them, he apparently couldn’t take anymore.

"S-stop," he hissed, and you pulled back, sitting up.

"You were close?" you asked, and he nodded a little.  "Oh, what a good boy."

He whimpered briefly.  "Yes, your good boy, Mistress…"

Your fingers trailed delicately up the underside of his cock, making him shiver violently.  "I know you want to come, but you want to be good even more.  You're such a sweet little pet."

It seemed like the praises did more to keep him on the edge than the touches, so you kept both going; wrapping your fingers around the ridge of his head, you gave the most gentle and subtle strokes, and leaned in to whisper against his ear.

“Is this why you wanted me to edge you today, James?  So you could show me how good you can be?” 

“I-I don’t know,” he blurted out, rocking his hips as best he could while restrained, “I just wanted to… I just wanted you to make me wait.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” you laughed slightly, “I can make you wait all day.  Is that what you want?”

“No, that’s— not that long, I can’t wait that long,” he shuddered.

“Mm, that sounds like your problem, not mine,” you smirked.  “Not sure why I asked what you want, honestly… cause I don’t fucking care.”

His choked-out whine was too perfect to ignore.

“Oh, what a pathetic little moan that was, poor baby,” you cooed mockingly, “are you regretting it now?  You’re probably wondering what you got yourself into, ‘cause you’re worried Mistress is never gonna let you come.”

“No, I don’t regret it,” he denied weakly, “whatever you want— do whatever you want to me, just… give me what I deserve, please.”

You stopped touching him completely and he straight-up sobbed.  “You don’t deserve anything from me, James.  You don’t deserve me at all.”

He told you before that he liked when you rapidly cycled between soft and mean.  Kept him on his toes, apparently.  Honestly, you felt a little guilty talking to him that way sometimes, but his cock leaking enough pre-cum to soak the bedsheets beneath him was a sign you were doing something right.  “I know!” he cried.  “I know, fuck, I’m sorry, but I need you.  I fucking need you, Mistress, please— you know I’ll do anything.”

“I’m feeling generous today,” you shrugged, “so I won’t ask you for much.  Just beg me a little more.”

“Please, pleasepleaseplease,” he rushed, “touch me.  Anywhere, whatever you want, I just need to feel you.  I know I… fuck, I know I don’t deserve it, but let me try to— to earn it.  Please.”

You knew if he had it his way, he wouldn’t do much talking at all.  But you couldn’t just let him have it his way, now could you?  It was better to make him just the right amount of nervous, just the slightest hair uncomfortable, by making him talk to you.  And, of course, you liked the way his deep and rough voice got all whiny and needy like this.

One finger under his chin guided him to look up at you, those pretty blue eyes watery and sparkling and wide with misplaced innocence.

“Tell me who you belong to, James,” you instructed darkly.

“You, Mistress,” he whispered, “I’m yours, I— oh fuck…”

Unshockingly, he was reduced to only moans again when you started stroking his cock, the slick precum making every movement smoother.  “All mine, huh?  My little toy?” you confirmed, but he could only nod and swallow thickly.

You sped up quickly, getting faster and faster until you were really, properly jerking him off and he was biting hard on his lip.  Just when he seemed to really fall into it, get almost comfortable, you had to stop.

"Oh, fuck—" he gasped, bucking his hips up to try to chase your hand when you pulled away, but it was no use with him tied up.  You watched his cock bob in the air and smiled.

“Did you think it was going to be that easy?” you smirked.

Shaking his head, you tilted yours to look at him, reaching up to trace your fingers over his chest.  

“Don’t lie, baby, you thought I was gonna let you come, didn’t you?  You’re so sweet, James, and so, so stupid.”

He gasped, and for a second you thought you might’ve gone too far, but it shifted to a moan quickly and you realized he was having the time of his life.

“Just my dumb, brainless little toy,” you continued with a snarl, watching him tug at the ropes as his eyes fluttered shut.  “It’s okay, James, it’s okay… you don’t need to think, I don’t want your mind.  It’s useless.  I want this pretty cock, that’s all I want from you.”

“It’s all yours, Mistress,” he promised, cheeks burning bright red and eyes forced shut.  “All of it, I swear.”

“I know,” you cooed, holding his face gently to soothe him a bit.  But then your other hand wrapped around his cock and he was anything but soothed.  “Shh, shh, don’t make any sounds, you’re just a toy and toys need to stay quiet.”

You missed his noises, actually, but he looked so cute biting his lip and struggling to suppress them.  His cock was so swollen in your hand that you honestly wondered if it was somehow getting bigger.  Was that even possible?  Your mouth was watering regardless.

“I’m gonna give you a little break,” you promised gently, “but I’ll be honest, pretty boy… I don’t think you’re gonna like it one bit.”

The look he gave you beautifully balanced fear with anticipation, and you stopped stroking him to reach over towards the bedside drawer and pull out a vibrator.

“Your Mistress is feeling a little.... self-indulgent today,” you winked.  “And since I, unlike you, don’t need to hold myself back from coming, I think I might as well get myself off if I want to.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed dryly, watching you closely as you stood up off the bed and started to carefully undress yourself.  It was a lot more fun to get naked when you were wearing something that didn’t actually show much skin— the button-up seemed to really get him going, his tongue mindlessly darting out to lick his lips as you opened one button at a time.

Once it was off your shoulders and on the floor, and he could see the almost-transparent bra you had on, you moved to opening your trousers as well.  Just to be mean, you faced the other way as you pushed them down over your ass; you heard his breath catch and you smirked to yourself, spinning to face him again in just the matching, dark red bra and panty set.

“What do you think, do you like this better than the black ones?” you asked coyly.

“I like you naked better than both,” he answered, and you grinned.

“I’m gonna let that backtalk slide just once because it’s not worth my time to go over there and slap you for it,” you decided.  “But don’t test me, James.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he answered dutifully, sounding a bit out of breath as he watched you climb back onto the bed, positioning yourself carefully.

You faced him straight-on and laid your legs over his, meaning your lace-covered pussy was in full view and only inches from his leaking cock— the damn thing looked sore by now, purple at the tip and just as desperate for attention as the rest of him.

When you pulled the fabric aside to show him your cunt, he hissed and looked away.

“Look at me, James, keep your eyes open,” you demanded, seeing how totally wrecked he looked when he turned his head back to you and stared down at your body with half-lidded eyes.  “Look at how fucking soaked my pussy is.  You remember how it feels to be inside it, don’t you?”

He swallowed, sighed, and finally (just barely) nodded.

“You remember how hot and wet and tight it is, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he choked.

“Well, that memory’s all you’ve got to work with, sweet boy, because I don’t think I’m ever gonna let you fuck this pussy again.”

He really, properly sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks, and those arms flexed against the ropes defiantly.  “N-no, please—” 

“I’m gonna make myself come with this,” you promised, interrupting him as you grabbed the vibe, “and I want you to remember how it feels when I come around you, okay?  

Turning it on, you wasted no time pressing it to your clit, moving the end of the toy in slow circles and keeping a close eye on him as he watched you.  Your intention had always been to give him a show, but the embarrassing thing was how little of it was an act.  Ironically, even though you’d been edging him this whole time, having to touch him that way without any pleasure for yourself was almost as torturous.  You’d soaked through your panties by the time you had him tied up, to be totally honest.  So, giving into it and letting yourself feel good was a breeze.

“Think about when I was riding you, James,” you instructed, your own voice clearly affected by your pleasure now.  “Think about how good it would feel if I let you come inside me.”

“Oh, god,” he cried, leaning his head back.

“Think about my pussy milking every fucking drop of come out of you.  You know I wouldn’t let you stop until I was completely full of your come, I bet you’d like that.  I bet you’d like to eat your come out of me, you sick little pervert.”

“Fuck!” he yelped, tugging at the ropes harder now— for a second you thought he might really break them and jump you.  And for a second, you knew you’d let him.  It made your walls clench as you imagined facing the consequences of driving a man to the brink of insanity until he couldn’t help but fuck you like an animal.  It was a good thing he didn’t see you bite your lip as you imagined that.

“You know what I’m thinking about?” you taunted.  

“God, don’t tell me,” he sighed through his teeth, but obviously you ignored him.

“I’m thinking about what a good boy you are for me,” you cooed, your hips starting to rock up against where you held the end of the vibrator; you pressed it down harder onto your clit and moaned instantly.  “Yeah, I’m thinking about how pretty you look when you’re all desperate and needy and fucking pathetic—”

“Oh—” he choked.

“My dumb litlte whore, that’s all you are, James,” you groaned.  “I know you wish you could touch me, it’s all you can think about, right?  That pretty head of yours would be completely empty if it weren’t for thoughts of me and how badly you want me.  Right?”

“Yes,” he whispered huskily.

A shiver ran up your spine when the vibrator bumped into a more sensitive part of you, and you did it again and again until you thought you might lose it a bit faster than you meant to.  “This toy feels really good,” you informed him in a purr, gasping when you slipped the vibrating body of it into your pussy, “but it doesn’t feel as good inside me as you do.”

His eyes fell shut but he still winced a bit every time you made a sound; he couldn’t run from this, no matter how hard he tried.

“Oh James,” you moaned loudly, fucking yourself with the vibe for a moment before you pulled it back out to focus even harder on your clit, “I’m gonna come.  I’m so, so close… I can feel it getting stronger, I think I might make a mess on these sheets.  And the only way I’m ever gonna let you come is if you watch me do it.  So open your fucking eyes.”

He blinked quickly as he opened them, gaze scanning your whole body before settling on your cunt; you were sure he could see it pulsing as you got closer and closer, you knew he was imagining how it would feel.  You only spared a brief glimpse at his cock, bobbing between his legs, and wished you could just slip it in you now and come while it stretched you out. 

But that wasn’t what he was here for, sadly, and you were sure you were the only being truly denied of your desires, despite how it probably seemed from the outside.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, numbness starting to tingle in your legs as your orgasm built up quicker than even you expected.  “I’m coming— James, I’m coming, oh, fuck… right there— yes!”

A gush of heat warmed your cunt at the same time that shocks ran up your spine and down your limbs; you could feel your legs shaking, and you knew he could, too.  

It got so intense for a second that you had to pull the vibrator away, though you didn’t stop coming until a few moments later, eyes falling shut without you meaning for them to.

You actually laughed a bit, breathlessly, as you turned the vibe off and set it aside, although you weren’t sure exactly what was supposed to be funny about this per se.  When you opened your eyes, you saw James looking down and looking positively defeated.  But he looked tense, too, and you sat up on your wobbly legs to get closer to his face.  

“Relax, James,” you told him firmly as you examined him.

“I— I can’t,” he whispered. 

“Why not?”

“I’ll come.”

Nothing could fight your wide grin anymore, not when you heard that.  “Oh, baby… are you about to come without even being touched?  Is that how much you liked watching Mistress come?”

He nodded, ever so slightly, and you laughed.  Not quite a mocking laugh, moreso impressed.  Prideful, even.  You leaned in to give a wet kiss to his neck, licking over his pulse as he shivered violently.

“That’s my good boy,” you whispered against his skin.  He whined and you cooed soothingly right away, “oh I know, I know.  It’s so unfair, isn’t it?  Mistress gets to come and you don’t…”

“Please,” he stammered, “I’m so close, let me come, please.”

“But I don’t wanna see you come, baby— I wanna see you cry.”

You started to slide your hand down his chest and he jumped up to attention as he tried to squirm away.  “No, please, don’t— don’t touch my cock, not if I can’t come.”

“You can hold it in, can’t you?” you pouted.

“No, I can’t, I can’t,” he sobbed, watching fearfully as your hand moved down to his stomach and over his hips.  

“But I thought you were my good boy,” you frowned, suddenly wrapping your hand tight around his cock as he choked on a gasp.

“Mistress!” he sobbed.  “Please, don’t—  don’t move your hand, I’ll come.”

"Never fucking tell me what to do," you instructed firmly, just barely stroking as he cried weakly.  "I'm gonna touch you however I want and you're not gonna come because you're my good boy, right?"

"No, Mistress, I can't stop it, I'm gonna come— stop, please…"

"You'd better not fucking come," you hissed through your teeth, speeding up your movements and watching his eyes shoot wide open, "you'd better hold it in until I'm done with you."

"I'm trying— please slow down, can't take it—"

You shook your head, tutting disapprovingly.  "No, baby, I tell you what you can take."

"Oh— oh god, Mistress, please, please stop, please, I c-can't— fuck!"

You pulled your hand away the second his cock started to flex but it was too late: come was shooting from his swollen tip and painting his chest and stomach.  You didn't even wait until he was done to backhand him across the face.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled.  "I'm so sorry, I couldn't help it…"

You softened slightly when you heard his broken voice, saw the desperation and fear on his face— it was real, more real than the fake ‘no’s and the encouraging pleas for mercy.  "Baby, it's okay, you tried so hard," you soothed instantly.

Hope filled his eyes just as much as tears as he looked up at you.  "Am I still your good boy?"

"Always," you smiled, caressing his face where it was already turning red from your slap.  

You reached down and caressed his cock with the back of your fingers, watching it flex weakly.  

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

His lip twitched, almost like a wince.  “Do we… do we have to stop?”

You quickly glanced at the clock.  “Um, no,” you mumbled, “we still have time.  Just tell me what you want.”

“I wanna watch you come again…” he admitted softly.  “Is… is that okay?”

Although you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting, you were still surprised.  “Yeah, sure.”

“But… but closer this time,” he added, “not so far away.”

You were literally laying on top of him, how did that count as far away? 

“I wanna see your face,” he clarified.

“Okay,” you nodded, deciding to indulge him.  It was sort of like aftercare, except that this wasn’t exactly the ‘after’ part yet.

On your knees beside where he was leaning back against the headboard, you slipped your hand down into the lace panties again, finding your clit still swollen but not too sensitive.  A little gasp fell from your lips when you touched it, rubbing it carefully with two fingers while he looked up at your face.  

You felt slightly exposed when he watched you this close, and you didn’t know where to look to avoid direct eye contact.  Looking at his lips was just a little too tempting, so that wouldn’t work.

“My hands are a little tired,” you explained, “they might cramp up.  Maybe I could use your thigh…”

“O-okay,” he nodded, and you removed your fingers from your panties to sit down on the thick muscle of his leg.  You felt him tense up under you slightly, and you carefully began to rock your hips until your clit rubbed just right against the inside of your underwear.  Surely he could feel how wet you were— actually, you both could hear it, almost a wet clicking-like noise as the soaked lace slid against your skin.

The dynamic shifted slightly, not that you minded it, as he watched you ride him carefully.  Just as he couldn’t hide much from you when he was naked and tied up and baring his soul to you in the kinkiest way possible, you couldn’t hide your pleasure from him when he was looking at your face so up-close.  You let your hands carefully roam his body, narrowly avoiding the trails of cooling come he’d left on his stomach and chest, until you found his strong shoulders and held onto them for balance.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself, biting your lip as your sore clit throbbed against his hard, muscular thigh.  

“Will you… could you kiss me?” he requested quietly, and your heart broke a little bit.  You shook your head, and he nodded in understanding.

“I’ll kiss you here,” you offered instead, whispering against his skin before you pressed your lips to his forehead, then his cheek, then his jaw.  “Is that better, James?”

“It helps,” he agreed in a sigh.  

“I’m close,” you warned quietly, pressing your cheek to his and weaving one hand into his hair.  “I’m gonna come again, on your thigh.”

“Let me touch you,” he begged, “just a little, please…”

You nodded, about to reach forward to untie one of his hands, but he snapped the ropes and you had totally forgotten he could do that.  He quickly ran his touch all over your body, calloused hands and bound wrists in stark contrast to your soft skin.  The metal one was a little cold but it didn’t bother you; the other was almost too hot, and it was like being warmed and cooled all at once.

He ran his fingers down your spine, he gripped one of your shoulders, he rubbed your legs: he did everything he must have been wishing he could do this whole time, even gasping as he ran one hand up your chest and over a cup of your bra.  Just as you sensed that he was about to ask if he could touch you there, you nodded and felt his metal hand tug down the red lace and grab your breast— thankfully not very hard, though he did give your nipple a quick pinch which made you gasp.

Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he finally settled his hands on holding your hips, just tight enough to slightly guide your movements as you rocked faster and more desperately.  “Please come,” he begged weakly, “Mistress, please… use me.”

It sort of hit you all at once then, like a punch to the gut.  Except, you know, a lot more fun than getting punched in the gut.

“James,” you gasped, legs quivering where they straddled his as a new patch of slick soaked the lace (and presumably his thigh as well).  He held you tight, kept you moving through it while your fingers tangled in his hair and your mouth fell slack for another, louder moan.

The way his lips moved over your skin, laving your collarbones and pulse point and the innermost corner of your jaw, was positively worshipful; reverent.  “Mistress,” he whispered, almost sounding like praise but tinted with awe.  Your movements slowed down to a stop and the two of you breathed a sigh together, unintentionally.  “Thank you,” he mumbled.

“What for?” you asked, blinking quickly and looking down at him, coming back to reality (though you weren’t quite sure where else it was that you had just been).

“I dunno, everything,” he decided.

“Don’t thank me,” you smiled.  “Keep paying me, though.”

He laughed a little, glancing away.  “Yeah, and I’ll pay you back for these ropes… sorry."

"No, hey, don't be sorry," you dismissed, getting up off of his leg and standing up to go grab a towel for him.  "I'm just sorry we still haven't found anything strong enough to hold you."

"It's fine, they're strong enough to make me stop myself when I want to do something I shouldn't, that's all that really matters."

You nodded to yourself as you dampened the towel and came back to wipe him off.

"I can do that for myself," he reminded you, sounding a bit embarrassed, but you thought it was sweet. 

“You just focus on getting those ropes off of yourself,” you decided with a little smile.

[poisonedapples]

Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids

Chapter One: The New Kid

Story Summary: Roman has to have a completely new start. New school, new town, new home and a new family. As a kid in his first foster home, Roman isn’t prepared to trust these people and get hurt again, but he’s not the only kid in the house recovering from past issues. Regardless, their foster father Patton is ready to be the dad they’ve always needed, and traumatized kids learn to lean on each other for support.

Story Warnings: Past abuse of all types, trauma, and anxiety

Pairings: Familial LAMP

Chapter Summary: Roman moves into his new foster home. He is not having a good time.

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, panic, implied past abuse, food, one vomiting mention, and talk of hidden cameras

Word Count: 6778

Notes: First chapter of a story I’ve wanted to make for my foster au! Thanks to Cornybird on Ao3 for beta-ing this one <3

“Logan, Virgil?” Patton called out from downstairs. “Can you come down here? I wanna talk about something with you!”

Virgil and Logan gave each other curious looks from their sitting places on the same bed. Virgil placed his phone on the nightstand beside him as Logan set his book down at the foot of the bed, both standing up to exit Virgil’s bedroom and head downstairs. At the dining room table was their foster father, Patton, smiling wide with a laptop and notepad in front of him.

“What’s up?” Virgil asked after he and Logan glanced at each other. 

Patton giggled to himself, “Sit down for a second and I’ll tell you! Nothing bad, promise. I think it’s very exciting.”

They quickly sat at the table on the other side of Patton. “So,” Patton joked, “I bet you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today!”

Logan and Virgil spoke in unison. “You’re getting another foster kid.”

Patton blinked. “…How’d you guess it?”

“You’ve been really happy recently, but also very quiet about why you were so happy. You only get like this when you’re bringing another foster kid into the mix. You did the same thing when Logan came along.” Virgil said.

Logan nodded. “Virgil told me about his suspicions due to your behavior, and I agreed with him. I think we both expected you’d make the announcement soon.”

“Oh.” Patton rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I didn’t think it was that easy to tell. Well, you guessed right! The new kiddo is moving in on Sunday!”

Logan leaned closer. “What’s their name?”

“His name is Roman Goldsberry. He’s fifteen, and he’s only been in the system for about five months. Though, before this, he was in kinship care with his aunt, so living here is going to be very strange for him. So just be patient with him at first, okay?”

“Yeah yeah, we will be.” Virgil smirked. “But you said he was fifteen?”

“Yup! He’ll be a sophomore in high school this year.”

“Aw, that means Logan’s still the baby in the family.”

Logan blushed. “I’m a teenager. I am not the so-called ‘baby’ of the family.”

“Sounds like something the baby of the family would say.”

“Falsehood!”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough.” Patton tried not to laugh. He knew how much Logan hated being the youngest, but it was hard to act like his reaction wasn’t funny. “Remember, Roman will be here Sunday, so be on your best behavior when he gets here. No spooking him.”

“Got it, got it.” Virgil slouched in his chair and thought. “One more question though. How fucked up is he?”

“Virgil, language.” Patton warned.

“Sorry! It’s just a question. We know you have a soft spot for the most effed up kids you can find.”

“I would have to say I’m curious as well.” Logan agreed. “It’s become a pattern.”

Patton sighed. “He’s not messed up, he’s a kid who’s struggling and needs support. If he wants to tell you two about his past, then he will.”

Virgil groaned. “Fine, fine. Can we go back upstairs now?”

Patton smiled. “Yes, you can go.”

“Great! I’m stealing your book, Logan.”

“Wait, you can’t do that!”

Virgil darted back upstairs with a maniacal laugh as Logan chased him, the sound of bickering teenagers traveling back up the stairs. Patton shook his head in amusement, still listening to the ruckus in case it got out of hand and he needed to step in, but Patton knew his kids. They may tease, but they’re not mean.

Patton continued working on his laptop once the noise quieted down again.

***

“I hate this.”

“I know you do, Roman, but I’m certain you can persevere and find happiness in this new home!” Roman’s social worker, Mr. Picani, smiled hopefully as he continued to drive him to his foster home. Roman was scooted as close to the window as he could possibly get, his legs crossed and clamped together so tight his thighs were getting sore. He didn’t trust Picani, and he sure as hell didn’t trust this new house. No matter what anyone told him.

“I already had a home! Living with my aunt was so much better than whatever could happen here.” Roman’s hands shook just thinking about it. He didn’t know anything about this new person, and the idea of being in a house full of strangers was enabling the more gruesome side of his imagination. He trusted his aunt, at least, but now he was going to a family who could be anyone.

Roman didn’t like the idea of that.

Picani frowned. “You know why your aunt couldn’t house you anymore, Roman. I know it’s not easy, but I think you’ll like this new place! It’s more up north in Foley County, and the area is nice. He also has two other foster children if that helps.”

“How old are the other kids?”

“Fourteen and sixteen, I think. You’ll get to know them more during your time there.”

Roman hummed, looking out the window and digging his nails into his shirt sleeve. He really hoped this foster dad hadn’t touched them before. Even forgetting about himself, a fourteen year old kid having to deal with abuse? Even after getting away from bad parents? He didn’t wish that on anyone.

“And if you ever feel unsafe,” Picani added, “you can always contact me, ‘kay?”

I already feel unsafe. “Okay. How much longer until we’re there?”

“About twenty more minutes. Just enough time to finish the rest of the Tangled movie soundtrack!”

Roman didn’t respond. Normally, he’d love to have a Disney soundtrack he could burst into song with, but he wasn’t feeling it today. And probably wouldn’t be feeling it for a long time.

He just wanted to feel safe. He felt safe with his aunt, but she couldn’t afford to keep him long after the trial since she gave birth to the twins. His aunt was always one of his favorite relatives, one of the few adults he genuinely trusted, now he was going to the house of some random guy named Patton, who he’d only heard of yesterday, and expected to be okay near him. Well, he wasn’t okay. And he wasn’t going to be, ever.

Roman leaned his head on the window and closed his eyes. His hands still shook a little and his chest felt weird, but fighting it now was pointless. Roman just hoped that if this guardian did try something, he’d do it quickly. The sooner Roman told on him to save himself and the other kids, the better.

Though, Roman still felt his hands tingle at the thought. The idea of “getting it over with” made him want to scream and cry. He wrapped his legs tighter together.

After a long time of trying to fight against his own anxious thoughts, Picani pulled into a driveway and stopped the car and Roman opened his eyes to take a look at where they were. He didn’t know the neighborhood, but it seemed like Picani was telling the truth when he said the neighborhood was nice. The house seemed huge, big bushes and flower patches in the front yard and a nice outside paint job. It looked like a house that a functional nuclear family would have, where the dad is a doctor and the mom stays at home with the kids.

Well, looks can be deceiving. Roman thought. Don’t get your hopes up.

“Here we are!” Picani unbuckled his seatbelt with a wide smile. “Grab your suitcases in the back, I’ll knock on the door.”

Roman nodded and got out of the car as Picani popped the trunk. He grabbed two red suitcases and a backpack, closing the car and wheeling it all up to the front door. Picani was there talking to a guy who Roman assumed must be Patton Sanders, and by taking just one look at him…Roman had never seen a person look so much like a dad.

 He was wearing khaki shorts and a light blue polo with tennis shoes and knee socks, thick-rimmed glasses sitting on his face to finish off the dorky look. Patton managed to pull it off, sure, but Roman felt a primal urge from binge-watching Queer Eye to fix that mess of an outfit. 

Before Roman could truly take in the fact that Patton’s knee socks also had kittens on them, Patton smiled wide once he saw Roman in the corner of his eye. “Hello, Roman! It’s so nice to have you, come on in you two!”

Patton stepped aside to hold out the door as Picani and Roman both walked in. Roman scraped his arm on the door frame trying to keep a reasonable distance from Patton, but neither of the adults seemed to notice how Roman was acting. Patton kept smiling away, and Roman tried to see how real that smile truly was. “So, Mr. Picani, I know I have some things to go over with you, so how would you feel if the other kiddos showed you around the house, Roman?”

…Kiddos? “That sounds fine to me.”

“Perfect!” Patton walked over to the staircase and called upstairs. “Logan, Virgil! Can you come down here please?”

Patton’s request was quickly followed by the sound of doors opening and closing. Two kids walked down the stairs; a boy in a black and purple hoodie, and another boy with thick glasses almost the same as Patton’s. They both stared at Roman curiously, and Roman wanted to sink into the floor.

Patton placed an arm over Logan and Virgil’s shoulders and Roman winced at the sight. “So, kiddos, this is Roman! And Roman, this is Logan,” Patton pointed to the kid in glasses. “And Virgil!” He pointed to the kid with the hoodie. The boys didn’t react much besides an awkward half smile directed Roman’s way. “How about you both show him around while I talk to Mr. Picani?”

Virgil shrugged. “Come upstairs, dude.”

Patton let go of both of the boys and walked off into the kitchen with Picani. Roman watched them from the living room for a moment, but he could feel two pairs of eyes staring at him from behind, so he turned around and followed the kids upstairs, bringing his luggage with him.

At the top of the stairs, a long hallway connected six doors on the second floor. Four of the doors were plain, brown doors, but two of them had very distinct personalities shown on the outside. One was covered in stars and planets, the door covered in a starry piece of wallpaper with a metal planet popping out of the background. The other was covered in caution tape saying keep out, with emo band posters poking out from under the tape. Two very different personalities.

“Your room will be this one at the very end of the hallway.” Logan opened the door to the room, turning on the light as Roman peeked inside. “You can place your luggage in here in the meantime.”

Roman nodded and walked inside to throw his luggage onto the floor. The room was very bare, with brown sheets on a twin bed and not much other furniture besides a desk and a dresser. There was a lamp on the desk and a floor lamp next to a door, and one of the opened closet doors showed that the top was covered in random boxes. Some newer-looking stuffed animals were also sitting on the bed; a soft bear and one of those squishy stuffed chickens Roman always saw in stores. It looked like an attempt at a welcoming gift, but new stuffed animals always put Roman on edge. He looked around the room, and the idea of sleeping here made Roman’s heart start to pound. He needed to check this place before he went to sleep that night.

Virgil smirked, taking Roman away from his anxious thoughts. “Damn, you’ve got suitcases? Living the fancy life I see.”

“…What?” Roman reeled.

Logan adjusted his glasses and crossed his arms. “Most foster children move their things using garbage bags. It’s rare we use actual suitcases.”

Roman looked down at his luggage. Suddenly, he felt guilty. “Oh, well…my aunt gave them to me before I moved out, so…”

Virgil shrugged. “What do you wanna see up here first?”

“We could show him our rooms. Or possibly the attic?”

“The attic is cooler.”

“What’s in the attic?” Roman asked.

“It essentially acts as a playroom.” Logan explained. “Board games and a…random assortment of items are all piled up there. It’s quite entertaining to search through, actually.”

“And it’s in the best place ever, come here.” Virgil motioned for Roman and Logan to follow him. He stopped at one of the doors, opening it and letting Roman peek over his shoulder to look inside. It looked like a normal walk-in closet, first aid and toilet paper on one side with batteries and rows of shampoo on the other. Virgil walked in with a smirk, “Now, check this shit out.”

Virgil jumped and pulled on a string dangling from the roof, unraveling a steep staircase through the closet leading up to a hole in the roof. Virgil started to climb the stairs as Logan followed suit, so Roman climbed right after them.

When Roman made it to the top, his eyes widened with wonder. Granted, it wasn’t anything too spectacular, surely not like something in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory, but the fact that this hidden space existed made Roman feel excited. At his old house, he barely even had his own room to himself, so a place like this was paradise.

The walls were painted white with a giant window above a sitting area on the other side of the room. Shelves of items scattered the walls, and the rug on the floor was so clean Roman wondered how they even got a vacuum up here. It wasn’t anything like his old attic, stuffed with random items from over the years and covered in spiderwebs. Roman felt like he could spend most of his day here.

“We have a lot of various toys up here.” Logan said. He gestured to the boxes on one of the shelves. “Pokémon cards, a chess set, Magic the Gathering, lots of Lego sets, craft supplies, most of our toys make their way up here.”

Roman’s head perked up. “…Craft supplies?”

Logan nodded. “I believe we have paints and drawing utensils.”

Roman looked at the bottom of the shelf Logan gestured toward. There was a box of small painting canvases with paints and brushes, and though they definitely looked cheap, Roman saw them and grew excited as he took out a canvas and the paints in wonder.

“Kiddos!” A voice yelled from the staircase. Logan and Roman walked over to the stairs to look down, but Virgil stayed in his place on a beanbag near the window. Patton and Picani stood at the bottom, and Patton smiled. “Now, what are you all doing up there?”

“We’re showing him around the house.” Logan said matter-of-factly.

“You are, huh?” Patton crossed his arms. “Does he know where the bathroom is?”

Logan blinked. Virgil called out from behind both of them. “He knows where the important things are!”

Patton tried not to smile, but he lost that battle quickly. “Well, Mr. Picani is leaving right now, Roman.”

“How ‘bout you come down here and I talk to you in private for a sec?” Picani asked.

“Uh, alright!” Roman climbed down the stairs and followed Picani out of the closet, while Patton climbed up the stairs into the attic. They both stepped away to the other side of the hallway, and suddenly Picani’s face became very serious.

“Do you feel safe in this house, Roman?” He asked.

Roman clenched his fist and bit his cheek. No, he didn’t, actually. He didn’t know what Patton would do once the coast was clear from guests, and the idea of what could happen was freezing him from the inside out. The only place Roman would feel truly safe was if he was back in the hospital.

But Roman knew that wasn’t possible, and he couldn’t keep bothering Picani all the time for fears that couldn't be helped. He had to be on his own. Alone.

“I think I do. They…seem like good people.” Roman lied. He’d have to find another way to survive.

Picani smiled, not noticing Roman’s unease. He always was a great actor. “Amazing! Let me know if anything comes up, bucko, and I’ll talk to ya again soon! But until then…so long, farewell, auf wiedersehen goodnight!”

Picani walked downstairs and waved behind him, laughing at his own reference as he walked out the door. Roman watched him from the staircase until he could see the car leaving the driveway through the window, and Roman felt truly hopeless. This was a nightmare.

He stood frozen on the staircase for a while, staring through the window with a hope of Picani turning back and saving him. But no car came into the driveway, and Roman didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. What do you even do when living in a house full of strangers?

“Heya, kiddo!” Roman jumped at the voice coming from behind him, jerking his head back and pushing his back up against the wall. It was Patton, smiling wide with a concerned look in his eyes at Roman’s reaction. “I’m sorry, Roman, I didn’t mean to scare you! I just wanted to ask if you wanted me to give you the rest of the tour. I’ll show you everything you need this time!”

Patton laughed at himself, but Roman felt the need to vomit. Patton was close, way too close, and he didn’t know what to do about it. He didn’t want to be roaming around the house with him, vulnerable and nowhere to hide. He needed to be somewhere safe.

“Uh, no, I’m fine! I’ll figure it out myself!” Patton raised an eyebrow at him, but Roman didn’t care. “Where’s the bathroom?”

Patton’s voice became softer. He pointed to the left of him, down the opposite direction of Roman’s room. “It’s over there. Are you sure you’re alright? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine!” Roman darted past Patton quickly and out of reach, rushing into the bathroom and locking it behind him. He pressed his back against the door and sat down, pressing his feet against the sink, ready to fight against the door if someone tried to open it. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, trying to even out his scattered breathing. He knew Patton was outside of the door, he could feel it. He just needed to be somewhere safe.

Roman didn’t move from his spot on the floor, eventually curling into himself and resting his head on his knees. He was so tired, the whole day his heart had been pounding with anxiety and he was sick of it. What did it take to feel safe? Was it even possible for Roman to feel safe anymore?

He didn’t want an answer to that. He was just so tired.

 Roman closed his eyes and leaned his body against the bathroom wall, ignoring all his aches from the strange position and trying to give himself some comfort. His body was exhausted but his mind kept racing, thinking of all the things that could go wrong while living here. He tried to fight the anxious thoughts, but Roman figured it wasn’t that big of a deal. If he threw up in the toilet maybe they’d leave him alone for the day.

But Roman never got to that point. He rested on the floor and let his body shake, taking some deep breaths at times to feel less like he was suffocating. Eventually, a knock came to the bathroom door, and it took everything in Roman not to yelp.

“Are you still in there, Roman?” Roman could tell the voice was Logan, and that helped him relax a little more. He took in a big breath and tried to act normal.

“Yes, sorry. Do you need it?” He asked.

“I’m alright. I simply wanted to ask if you wanted to come downstairs and use the paints you seemed so interested in.”

Roman’s ears perked up at that. He forgot all about the paints, and it would be something that could ease his mind a little. But Roman wasn’t that dumb. He knew this was a plan to get him out of the bathroom. Though…he might not mind that much if he wasn’t alone.

“…Would you sit with me?” Roman asked. He doubted Patton would try anything so long as they weren’t alone together, and if he pleased them enough, maybe they’d leave him alone.

Logan was slow to respond. “I suppose I can if you wish for me to.”

Roman rolled his eyes at that sentence. What a nerd, he thought, standing up and slowly unlocking the door to the bathroom before opening it. He looked through the crack to check if Patton was standing behind Logan, but no one else was there. Logan stood there patiently with his hands clasped behind his back, and Roman fully exited the bathroom.

“I set the box on the dining room table. However, Patton is also there making a pizza for dinner.”

Roman froze. The same room as Patton? “… I’ll go, but you have to stay near me.”

Logan nodded. He led the way down the stairs while Roman followed, entering the dining room through the connected area in the living room. On the table was the box of painting supplies, and Roman ran toward them to start taking them out, trying to ignore the fact that he could see Patton in the corner of his eye. He grabbed a canvas and the cheap paints, as well as a plastic pallet and all the brushes. All that he needed was a cup of water, but…the sink was right next to where Patton was.

Roman drummed his fingers on the table. “…Logan, can you get me a cup of water?”

“Alright.” Logan stood up and grabbed a cup from the cupboard, filling it with water and handing it to Roman. Roman murmured a thank you, and Logan sat back down at his seat. He was grateful that Logan didn’t ask why Roman couldn’t get it himself.

“So, Roman,” Roman stiffened at the sound of Patton’s voice. “Are you an artsy kid?”

Roman gripped hard onto his paints, squirting out a lot more orange than he meant to. “I guess, yeah. I like art.”

“Do you like to paint, or are you more of a sketchy kinda guy?”

“Uh…all of it. Painting, drawing, coloring, I used to make a lot of stuffed animals too.”

“Awww, that sounds adorable!” The oven beeped and Patton put on his oven gloves and pulled out the pizza. “It’s probably best I don’t know how to make stuffed animals though. If I did, this house would be full of little stuffed puppies!”

Roman didn’t respond. He focused completely on mixing red and orange for a perfect sunset color, attempting to get a good gradient with the lack of shade variety. Once he filled in his sunset and blended it with a dark night sky, he mixed his white with a dot of gray and made darker clouds, dotting them above his rough-looking hill. He wanted to add more texture to the bottom of the canvas, maybe some trees, but he didn’t know how to make good ones without a fan brush. Maybe he could add some grass…

“Alright, the pizza is cooled down and ready!” Roman noticed Patton put a plate next to his painting, so he pushed all his supplies out of the way so he could eat. Patton set down more plates around the table as Virgil walked in. “It was a real pizza work if I do say so myself!”

Logan rolled his eyes and Virgil held back a snort, but Roman didn’t quite know how to react. He might have found the dad joke more amusing if he wasn’t so on edge.

Roman took a bite of the pizza. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just a store-bought one that you heat up in the oven and serve, but Roman didn’t realize he was so hungry until now. He had skipped lunch because his nerves about coming here were making his stomach churn, but finally having food near him was bringing back that hunger. Roman’s foot was still tapping violently under the table, but it was progress.

Everyone ate their pizza in silence. It was incredibly awkward on Roman’s end, no stories to tell as this table full of strangers kept making glances at him. Patton was the worst with it. He seemed to want to say something to Roman, continuously making eye contact with him until Roman looked away, but still not saying a word. He couldn’t take it. He hated it, but he hated this silence even more. Roman swallowed the pizza bite he was chewing and opened his mouth.

“So,” Roman started, “what do I…call you anyway?”

“Me?” Patton asked, his eyes lighting up. Why would his eyes light up at that?

“Yeah. Do I say Mr. Sanders, or…?”

“Oh, Patton works just fine! I hear Mr. Sanders way too often at work to wanna hear it at home too!”

“Oh, where- where do you work?” At least it wasn’t so quiet anymore.

“I’m a nurse practitioner for a clinic. It’s a lot of fun, just a lot of work. At least my hours aren’t as crazy as most nurses.”

“Oh that’s…cool.” Roman didn’t know how to continue off of that.

“It is! Is there anything else you wanna ask me, though? Maybe about the house, routines, anything?”

“Well…what are the rules here?” That seemed like a very safe question to have. It could save Roman a lot of trouble, and it could give him more of a read on the kind of parent Patton was.

“Oh, it’s not that much. You’re old enough to clean up after yourself, so make it a habit to pick up your own things and not put that stuff on other people. Be kind to everyone else, and the only rule I’m very strict about is no yelling. You can be loud sometimes, but no angry yelling at anybody here. The last one is to respect others’ privacy. Always knock on someone’s bedroom door before entering. But that’s really it, I think!”

How often do you break that last rule? “That seems reasonable, I suppose.”

Patton smiled. “I think you’ll do just fine here, kiddo. I know it’s hard to start over, but you won’t be alone during it!”

“…Thank you.”

“And I’m sure Virgil and Logan could help out a little bit, since they’ve been in the same situation! Right, you two?”

Virgil was halfway through trying to stick a whole piece of crust in his mouth. “…Uh huh.”

“…Virgil, chew your food.”

“Lo’an ‘old me I cou’ do it!”

“Do not drag me into this.”

Virgil hid his mouth behind his hand as he chewed for a long period of time. “You’re just avoiding your responsibility.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m finished, so try not to choke now.”

“Now I’m gonna choke just to spite you.”

“Please do not start a choking contest, Virge.”

Virgil groaned before swallowing the last of his crust. He followed Logan to the dishwasher and put his plate in, closing it and scurrying away back upstairs. Logan hesitated leaving the dining room, looking between Patton and Roman. Roman couldn’t tell if Patton noticed Logan’s hesitation or if it was just perfect timing, because he also got up and put his plate in the dishwasher.

“When you finish, Roman, just put your dishes away.”

“I can do that.”

Patton smiled and walked off into the living room, sitting on the couch to watch some TV show seemingly about cute puppies and kittens. Logan glanced at Roman again.

“Do you still want me to stay?” Logan asked.

Roman ate the last of his pizza and pushed his plate to the side, grabbing his painting again to put in front of him. It was the most effective thing at calming him down. “…No, I should be okay.”

Logan nodded and walked upstairs. Roman tried to fully immerse himself in his painting, focusing on every last detail and how he could make it better without over-detailing it. Roman put more green on his brush and started to dot at his hill on the bottom, trying to add little blades of textured grass. It was a long process, just enough to take the majority of his focus and calm his hands.

…Roman felt really weird here. It didn’t feel like he lived in this house, now. It felt like he was spending the day with some friends, and his aunt would come pick him up before the sun went down. But no, these new kids were his foster brothers and the adult he was terrified of was expected to act as his new dad. There was no one coming to save him, he was expected to sleep here and eat here and live here. This was supposed to be his safe space.

Roman rubbed at his eyes and shook his head. Don’t focus on that now, he thought. Focus on the painting.

So he did focus. He focused on monotonous texture additions and watching the paint dry on his canvas as he went along, letting the repetitive action calm his mind just a little bit. His calming method seemed to be working too well, actually, as the more details he added and stared at the paint, Roman realized that his constant panic today had completely exhausted him. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet and Roman could feel his eyelids get heavier. He rubbed at his eyes again and tried to focus.

Roman yawned once. He yawned twice and rubbed his eyes as he kept adding minor details to his painting. Then, after a while, Roman scooted his painting to the side and laid his head down on the table.

***

“…Roman, wake up, please.”

Roman buried his head deeper in his arms. “Come on Roman, it’s late.”

Roman groggily lifted his head up. Patton was sitting in the chair across from him, the lights were all off except for the one light above the dining table. Roman looked around him, and noticed that it was dark outside now. Shit.

“You fell asleep, but that’s okay. It’s bedtime now, and the other two are already in bed, so how about you go get ready and sleep in your bed? I bet it’s comfier than the table.”

Roman dug his palm into his eye. “…What time is it…?”

“About 10:20. You all have bedtime at ten.”

“…But I’m fifteen?” Roman gave Patton a confused and sleepy look. He hasn’t had a bedtime since he was twelve, especially one that was so early. His mom only told him to be in bed by midnight.

Patton smiled. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Logan is the only one who needs a bedtime, but I don’t want him to feel left out because he’s the only one asleep. So, how about you get ready for bed?”

Roman nodded and got out of his chair. The more he walked, the more he woke up, and he could tell by the time he went back upstairs that he wasn’t going to go back to sleep for a while since he could feel his heartbeat in his chest again. Patton followed him upstairs, turning off the dining room light as they went. Roman got his bathroom bag out from his smaller suitcase and a cotton shirt with sweatpants for pajamas, bringing it all with him to the bathroom. He closed the door as he brushed his teeth for the night, placing his bag in the bottom drawer after he did. He changed into his pajamas carefully, taking the towel on one of the racks to hide his lower half under as he switched pants, taking his other clothes and throwing them into a laundry basket.

When Roman stepped out of the bathroom, Patton was leaning against a wall waiting for him. He smiled at Roman, but Roman still ran past him to get as far away as he could get. Patton didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he just didn’t care. Roman shifted on his feet awkwardly before closing his door.

“Um…goodnight.” He finally said. Patton seemed satisfied with this.

“Goodnight, Roman.”

Roman finally closed the door to his bedroom, waiting until he heard the door on the other end of the hallway open and close. Almost immediately after, as if another force was controlling him, Roman started to tear the place apart.

He checked the charging ports in the walls, the lamp, under the bed’s covers and behind every piece of furniture. He stood on top of his suitcase to check the vents and took out all the drawers in the dresser. He punched the stuffed animals to see if he could feel wires, but he still couldn’t find it. He couldn’t find it.

Roman felt himself start to pant. He refused to go to bed until he found it. No matter how well hidden it was, Roman knew there was a camera in here. He couldn’t stop until he found it.

Roman grabbed the boxes at the top of the closet and tossed everything out of them, checking every spare blanket and binder before throwing them across the room when he found nothing. He took the hangers out of the closet and threw them on the floor, shining his phone light on the wall of the closet to find a hole. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

Tears sprung into Roman’s eyes as he choked on his own breath. “Where the hell is it!?” He whispered, slamming the closet door closed and moving to check the bed. He tore the bedsheets off and checked the mattress, lifting it up as well to check the bed frame for anything that could be used to record. Nothing.

“Come on, please-” Roman took out the drawer from the bedside table. Nothing. He unscrewed the lightbulb from the lamp, almost shattering it from his tight grip. Nothing. He threw the lamp onto the bed and kicked the nightstand over. Nothing.

Roman choked out a sob as his whole body started to shake. This wasn’t fair, he spent all that time trying to get away from his dad only to end up in a place that hid cameras better than him. Roman gripped the covers he’d thrown and punched the floor next to them, the ache being an almost pleasant distraction from his own head. But his mind continued to race and his crying didn’t let up. The only thing Roman could manage to get out of his mouth was “No, no!”

Then, between Roman’s sobbing, he heard a knock at the door.

Roman froze in place. A feeling of dread spread through his chest and made his fingers go numb. For a second, Roman forgot to breathe as he remembered he forgot to lock the door.

Roman’s body was stiff, but his mind was going a mile a minute in a desperate attempt to save himself. He could hide in the closet, but since he tore everything out of there, if someone opened the door they’d immediately find him. He could hide under the bed, but without the covers to reach the floor it was easy to see he was under there. Roman choked on his own breath when he realized there was nowhere to hide-

“Roman?” The knock came back to the door, gentler than the first time. It wasn’t Patton’s voice like Roman feared, it was Virgil. Raspy and tired-sounding, but without a doubt Virgil.

“Y-yeah?” Roman squeaked out.

“Uh, can I…can I come in?”

Roman’s death grip on the covers loosened up slightly. “Yes…”

Virgil slowly turned the doorknob and opened it, slipping in through the smallest crack and closing the door slowly so it wouldn’t click. Once he was inside, Virgil’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of the destroyed room. “…Holy shit dude.”

Roman tried to dodge the situation, “What do you want?”

“I was gonna come in here and make a joke, like, ‘quiet down it sounds like a tornado is going through here’, but now I think I predicted the fucking future.” Roman put his head down as Virgil looked around in shock. “What the fuck happened?”

Roman wiped away his tears with the palm of his hands, digging into his eyes so hard he saw stars for a moment. “…There’s a camera in here.”

Virgil backed up more towards the door. “Wait, there is?” He darted his eyes around the room looking for what Roman was talking about. Roman let out a shaky breath.

“I haven’t found it yet, but I know it’s in here somewhere!” More tears went down Roman’s face as he hugged himself. Virgil seemed to realize what Roman was babbling on about. “I know Patton put a camera in here for me and I’m freaking out because I can’t find it!”

Virgil looked around at the mess again. He sighed. “I’m not good at this shit…you’re certain it’s in here?”

“Yes!”

“Hey, hey, don’t yell.” Virgil warned. “Pat and Logan are still asleep and I don’t think you’d like all that extra attention right now.”

He was right. If Logan and Patton came in here, Roman didn’t know what he’d do about it. It was the last thing he wanted, so Roman obeyed. “I just…I don’t know what to do…I can’t sleep until I find it.”

Virgil seemed to be thinking. He tugged on the neck of his pajama shirt before speaking. “How about we both make a deal?”

Roman lifted his head up to look at Virgil. “…Deal?”

“We’ll trade rooms for the night. There wouldn’t be a camera in my room if he’s trying to watch you, right?”

Roman paused. “…What if he’s watching you too?”

“I’ve lived here for two years. You think I wouldn’t have noticed a camera in my room by now?”

Roman thought about it. He did have a point, it was hard to go that long without finding the camera. Or at least, have your guardian have it slip that they’ve been watching you. And anything was better than staying in this place.

“…We can trade. Thanks.”

Virgil shrugged. “You know where my room is. Just slip in and don’t wreck all my shit.”

Roman laughed a little bit at that one. Virgil grabbed the sheets and covers off the floor and began to remake the bed as Roman grabbed his backpack and started to slowly open the door. But before he left, Roman had to say one more thing for his own piece of mind. “…Don’t touch my suitcases. I-I’ll know if you do.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. “…I won’t.”

Roman opened the door and softly closed it behind him, slipping into the room next door covered in caution tape. He turned on the light and set his backpack down on the floor, looking around him at all the things that showed Virgil’s personality. Emo band posters covered the walls that were painted a dark purple, with dark wood furniture and Hot Topic decorations all over the place. Just looking at this room told him how angsty this kid was.

Roman shook it off and unzipped his backpack. He could deal with angsty decorations for the night, so long as this place could be safe from creeps. He took out his secret weapon from his backpack, something he secretly bought behind his aunt’s back with his babysitting money, the one item that made him feel secure in a home. He pulled out the security bar, locked Virgil’s door, and placed it under the door handle. Even if someone undid the lock, they wouldn’t be able to sneak inside while he was sleeping.

Roman’s heart calmed down a little for the first time in weeks. Even if it wasn’t much, he felt safe, maybe even safe enough to get some rest for once. Roman crawled into Virgil’s bed, covering himself in his very tasteful Jack Skellington covers, and tried to rest.

Roman’s hands still shook, and his head felt funny, but he eventually drifted off into a light sleep full of anxiety and nightmares.

[jackrrabbit]

cuffing season /// Ushijima x f!Reader (18+)

Summary: [Shiratorizawa fanweek day 5—Firsts] You convince your boyfriend to try something new in the bedroom, but as it turns out, old habits die hard.

A/N: Heard it was Shiratorizawa week 👀 technically I did originally post this on day 5, but I had to repost bc of tag issues, whoops :P Let’s pray it works this time!! edit: apparently it’s still not listed in the tags :<

The song that I mention is Bruno Major’s Old Fashioned (although it doesn’t fit the tone of this fic in the least).

Tags/warnings: mild bondage, size kink, rough sex!!!, marking (bruises/hickeys/etc.), power play/power exchange, reader tries & fails to dom Mr. Ushijima 😳, all characters are adults

Look, Ushijima’s a great boyfriend. Perfect, almost. Sure, he may not be the most expressive guy, but you’ve been dating him long enough that you’re able to pick up on the little gestures that tell you that he cares about you—the way he presses his face into your hair when you hug him after you’ve been apart for a while; his hands stroking circles into your skin when you fall asleep in bed next to him; all of it. He’s everything you could possibly look for in a man, except for one not-so-little issue:

The sex.

Because Ushijima, your sweet, wonderful boyfriend, who kisses you so gently it’s like he thinks you’ll fall apart if he’s not infinitely careful with you, is for some reason incapable of exercising the same degree of restraint (or any restraint at all) when you’re in bed together. When it comes to sex, your boyfriend is a fucking animal. And you’re not really sure how much more you can handle.

Maybe your concerns would seem petty from an outsider’s perspective. It’s not like Ushijima doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and it’s not like you don’t want to have sex. You’re attracted to him, of course you are! Almost 76 inches and 190 pounds of pure muscle, a body that looks like Michelangelo could have carved it from marble, and that beautifully solemn expression that had you salivating over him from the stands before you even knew his name? You want to have sex with him, you’re just fairly certain you can’t, not when it always ends up with you completely and utterly wrecked, so spent you don’t even have the strength to lift your hips off the mattress so he can wipe his cum off your thighs.

Look, anyone in your position would feel the same way. It’s awful and you’ll never admit it to him, but you almost broke up with him after the first time you two fucked. You knew going in that it wouldn’t be easy—the man radiates big dick energy and boy did he deliver—but it was just too much.

That first time had started off so innocuously, with you inviting him to your place for a nightcap after your sixth date. You’d set candles and put on your romantic sex playlist for a nice backdrop to let him hold you in his lap and make out—how the hell had you gone from that to having him rut you into the mattress, your belly pressed into the sheets and ass arched up so he could pound into you so forcefully that your rickety bed smacked into the wall hard enough to rattle the furniture with every movement, and you couldn’t even hear it over the sound of your own moaning? You hadn’t changed the playlist, and it felt downright obscene to listen to Bruno Major croon about love and courtship while Ushijima fucked into you like he was trying to carve the shape of his cock into your pussy.

You’d had to call in sick the next day because you could barely walk. The bruises from where he held your hips had taken weeks to fade, and by that time he’d already given you new ones. To his credit, Ushijima felt bad when he saw the evidence of how rough he’d been and he promised to take it easy on you next time…but after a few more rounds of mind-numbingly savage sex you learned that the man apparently doesn’t know what ‘take it easy’ means.

To be fair, at least some of it is your fault. You really shouldn’t have offered to go on the pill as a three-month anniversary present to him. At least before, he had to give you a break while he changed condoms after he came; now he has no reason to hesitate, instead going for round two (and sometimes round three) without pulling out. You never thought you’d see superhuman stamina as a bad thing, but…

“You don’t get it! It’s like getting fucked by a stallion. I need to plan to have three days to recover whenever I take him home with me,” you whined to your friends over cocktails when they told you you shouldn’t complain about a good thing—after all, Ushijima is just as committed to your pleasure as he is to his own, and there’s never been an occasion where he didn’t get you off before fucking you himself (probably at least a little because there’s no way in hell you’d be relaxed enough to take him otherwise).

“Can’t you just tell him to go slower?” one of your friends asked. “If he doesn’t listen to you, then that’s fucked up and you need to dump him.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t listen. If I tell him to stop, he stops,” you sighed, stirring your drink with the straw and watching the decorative sprig of mint fall under the surface to be overtaken by a chip of ice. “It’s like he can’t go slower. He’s not adjustable—it’s either crazy brutal or nothing, and then neither of us get what we want. Like a vibrator you can’t turn off the highest level. I don’t even think he realizes in the moment how intense it is for me.”

“Aren’t you ever on top? You can set the pace.”

“I’ve tried, but Ushi just—“ you made a gripping motion with your hands and mimicked raising something up and setting it down vigorously— “like, bounces me.”

One of them raised an eyebrow and then her eyes widened. She turned to your other friend and the two of them whispered to each other for a bit, then shifted back to you. “Tie him up,” she said with the air of an elder imparting sage knowledge, and your other friend nodded.

“Oh, come on.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m serious. Guys usually love it when girls are in control, you just need to take the initiative. Get him tied down and then you can show him exactly how you like it. Let him feel like he’s at your mercy for once.”

The idea had seemed unthinkable at the time, but you hadn’t been able to forget it—which is why after weeks of contemplation, hours of research, and a single extremely awkward trip to a sex shop, you’re now crouching over Ushijima’s naked chest, wrapping a leather cuff around one of his wrists.

“Are you sure that this is something you want to do?” Ushijima asks in that weighty baritone that makes you shiver with need. He doesn’t pull away, but he eyes your actions warily as you thread the chain of the cuffs around a rung in the center of your headboard and reach over to do the other side.

“…Yes,” you tell him, a little less firmly than you would have liked, and you lick your lips to try to make up for how suddenly dry your mouth is. “Anyway, isn’t that my line? We don’t have to do the cuffs if you don’t want to. I won’t force you.”

“It’s alright. You and I both know you couldn’t force me, (Y/N).” Dark eyes pin you down and it’s incredibly unfair how much power he has over you even when he’s the one chained to the bed.

Ushijima’s right, obviously—if he didn’t want to be exactly where he is right now, he wouldn’t be. You’re sure as hell not strong enough to force him to do anything he doesn’t want to, but he didn’t have to say it like that.

“Okay then…good,” you reply, adjusting the straps of the cuffs to accommodate for how stupidly thick his wrists are. When you’re satisfied that they won’t chafe but he can’t get out of them without your help, you sit back next to his chest and admire your handiwork. Ushijima lays on his back, naked, relaxed, even with his arms stretched up to your headboard and cuffed there. He looks good, mouthwateringly good, and you’re ready to get your hands on him when you remember there’s something you need to get straight first. “Wait, before we—before I do anything, remember— what do you say if you want me to stop?”

“…Vanilla,” Ushijima says, reciting the safeword you decided on when you were hammering out details, although the look in his half-lidded eyes is telling you very clearly that he has no intention of needing to use it.

Privately you agree, but everything you’ve read on the kink blogs you’ve been trolling for research tells you that a responsible adult doesn’t put cuffs on their partner without deciding on a safeword first, and you’re determined to do this by the book. “Good boy,” you say, and the diminutive feels awkward in your mouth until you see Ushijima’s reaction—the flash in his eyes, a minuscule hitch in his breathing next to you, and the scrape of metal against wood as he gives a light pull at the cuffs.

With everything safe and accounted for, you give a final tug to the chain to ensure it’s secure, then inch back and swing one leg over the broad expanse of his chest so you’re straddling his abdomen (and he’s so damn big that there’s a twinge of soreness in your thighs just from sitting on top of him). Fuck, he looks good like this, all spread out and pinned underneath you, so masculine and bulky that you’re feeling your pussy get wet just from watching him watching you.

It’s not often you get to appreciate him like this—usually you’re too focused on not losing your mind from how deeply he’s fucking you—so you savor it, massaging his shoulders and sliding your fingers down his sides, tracing the smooth skin with a feather-light touch and then dipping to kiss under his jaw. Feeling more than a little devious, you let your teeth graze over the thin skin at the base of his neck and with your chest pressed into his, it’s not hard to feel his sharp intake of breath.

“The marks...my teammates will notice.”

“Maybe I should stop, then,” you murmur against his skin, lifting up just enough to brush over his nipples. He stiffens, and once again you hear him tugging at the cuffs.

“…Don’t. I want them to see,” Ushijima says, and once you have his permission you don’t waste any time in latching your mouth to his skin and sucking. It’s been ages since you’ve given anyone a hickey. Usually you’re the one marked up like a teenager after Ushijima has his way with you, so this is a nice change of pace, especially when you can feel him flexing underneath you.

Well, kissing is nice…but you’re getting impatient and you know he is too. Once you’re satisfied that your hickeys are going to show up nice and bright red around his neck like a collar, you sit back, walking your hands back on his chest, stroking over his abdomen and giving a little roll of your ass on top of him. Ushijima’s hips twitch—unconsciously, you wonder?—and he glares at you in a way that tells you in no uncertain terms to hurry up and let him fuck you.

And damn it, something about that look has you feeling weak. Needy. Obedient. But this time you’re supposed to be in charge, so you smirk and lift your hips, pulling your body back so his cock is nestled between your legs, not quite touching your pussy. He’s already hard—no surprises there, considering how intently he’s watching you as you mess with him—but you only take a second to stroke his cock up and down before shifting up so he can see you slick your fingers up in your own pussy.

“(Y/N)…” Ushijima’s voice is low, annoyed, and he looks hungry. But you’re so amazed at how wet you are under your own fingers that you don’t bother to pay attention to him shifting his position under you to try to get stimulation. Your juices are literally slicking up your own thighs, just from chaining up your boyfriend and teasing him a little? You should have done this a long time ago.

You push two fingers into your pussy and pump them a few times, making sure to angle your hips so Ushijima can see them go in and out. The stretch is almost uncomfortable for a second and you wince a little before schooling your expression, knowing you’re about to have something a lot bigger than two fingers stretching you open. Ushijima catches it though, and he frowns, trying to sit up before remembering the cuffs that are holding him back. “Let me—let me do it for you—“

“No, stay down,” you say quickly, using your other hand to push him back into the mattress while you continue to touch yourself. Ushijima lets you (and there’s no doubt in your mind that he is letting you), but his eyes narrow as he zeroes in on the way your fingers are glistening with your own pussy juices.

God, you’re—you’re supposed to be in control, aren’t you? So then you shouldn’t be feeling like this, eyes drifting closed as you fuck yourself on your fingers, letting your lower knuckles rub against your clit while you try to curl them to rub against your g-spot. Ushijima’s been spoiling you…you can’t remember the last time you’ve had to do this yourself, and as you feel the tension building up slowly you catch yourself wishing it were him fingering you instead.

His fingers are just so thick. And long, and so rough. You bite your lip thinking about the way he does it when he preps you to take his cock, mashing his palm into your clit, petting along inside you and scissoring his fingers and… “Mmh,” you hum, holding back a real moan for Ushijima’s sake.

There’s another click of the chain sliding over the headboard wood and it reminds you that he’s right there, you could just uncuff him and he could touch you and fill you up with those thick fingers, make you cum, make you cry. But the urge to seek your own pleasure is outweighed by the image he’s making as he looks at you, his expression almost angry in its intensity now that he’s watching you do this to yourself and he has no way to get his hands on you.

“Ahh—“ you whine, letting a real whimper out at the thought of what you’re doing to him. “Ushi, Ushi, do you wanna touch? Wanna touch me?”

His head ducks into a hasty nod and his jaw clenches at the strain of having to ask for what he wants instead of just taking it like usual.

The longer you touch yourself, the closer you’re getting…but you don’t want to cum, not just yet. You draw your fingers out of your dripping cunt and open them up in a V, showing off the juices that connect them, the evidence of how wet you are for him. “Mmm, I don’t think so. I think there’s something else I want in me instead.”

And then you’re reaching to the side for the lube, squeezing a healthy dollop into your palm and then wrapping your hand around Ushiijma’s cock. And—fuck, he’s big. Sure, you’ve had sex with him plenty, but no matter how often you take him, you never stop feeling absolutely torn up after. A tingle of trepidation races up your spine at the thought of riding him like this—can you even put it in by yourself?

Even just looking at it is intimidating. He’s painfully hard, cock flushed red and bobbing up against his lower stomach every time you let it go, and, Jesus, how is it even possible that this thing would fit inside you? When you wrap your hand around him your fingers don’t touch; he must be thicker around than your own wrist.

Halfway. That’ll going to be your goal tonight, to take him halfway. And even that…is going to be a stretch.

The anxiety must show on your face because once again you’ve got Ushijima straining at the cuffs. “(Y/N)—“ he spits as you stroke him up, nudging your palm against the tip. “(Y/N), you need to finish first. Let me make you cum.”

“No, this time I want to—I’m gonna cum on your cock,” you say, adjusting your position so you’re kneeling above him, the head of his cock sliding between your lips. “Gonna cum on your big cock, Ushi, okay?”

His cock jumps in your hand at the provocation. He’s glaring at you, but he’s also leaking precum, the sticky fluid mixing with the lubricant. You give Ushijima a moment to say the safeword if he really doesn’t want you to, and when he stays quiet you raise yourself up a little more and line the head of his cock up with your weeping slit. You hold your pussy lips open with your fingers, easing your thighs down and pressing the head into you and—

“Oh—oh—oh, fuck, oh fuck, Ushi—“ you stutter out helplessly.

It’s been almost two weeks since he last fucked you. One week, six days and about three hours, and at the moment this measure of time seems unreasonably important because it’s been almost two weeks since you last let Ushijima split you in half with his ridiculously huge cock.

You’re not ready, should’ve prepped more, should’ve let him make you cum like he said—fuck, it feels like you’re losing your virginity—and the mixture of dismay and relief that spills over you when the thick swell of his head pushes past that tight ring of muscle is almost nauseating.

The tip? Seriously, just the fucking tip, and you’re already delirious, shaking, your thighs quivering on either side of his. It’s taking all of your strength to keep from going slack—but you know if you do, his whole cock is going to slide up into you and even thinking about that has your cunt clenching and unclenching around what you’re able to fit inside.

“Do you need help?” Despite the strain in Ushijima’s voice at being teased like this, there’s an undercurrent of amusement. He clearly doesn’t have faith in your ability to take him deeper by yourself.

It’s this—this quiet arrogance, this belief that he knows what’s best for you and he’s the only one who can give it to you—that gives you the guts to convince yourself to lower yourself down onto his his cock until you’re literally gasping for air. It fucking hurts, but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction of hearing you say it; instead, you brace your hands against the stiff muscle of his chest and try to focus on the way his cockhead is pressing into your g-spot.

Halfway…he’s gotta be at least halfway in, right? You sneak a glance up at him and bite back a curse at the look on his face, serious as ever, so focused on the place where your pussy is reluctantly eating up his cock that you feel your insides tense up around him again.

You don’t even know how it’s possible for you to get tighter around him but somehow you must be able to, because you hear Ushijima grunt underneath you, and his muscles contract under your palms as he tries again to sit up. When he can’t, he hisses in frustration. “Move…now. Or I won’t be able to control myself.”

Funny, aren’t you supposed to be the one controlling him? But it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way when you’re barely able to stay upright just from trying to ride his cock. You nod desperately, chin jutting up and down like a bobblehead, and lift your hips up off his cock until just the tip is left inside. When you push yourself back down you can’t help whimpering at the feeling of him stretching you, sliding up into you, that stiff, wet cockhead dragging over your g-spot.

By now the pain has faded into an uncomfortable stretch, like leaning too heavily into a foreign pose in yoga, enough that you’re able to feel the arousal building in the pit of your belly and hold onto it as you rock your hips up and down him. The pace is slow—almost too slow; you marvel at yourself for wanting it faster—and there’s a fair amount of Ushijima’s cock that you’re not able to take, but this is really all you can handle.

“Mmm, Ushi, fuck, you’re so big, so big and hard inside me, feels so good on your cock—“ you moan, knowing you sound less like the dominant partner in this position and more like you’re teasing him, pushing his limits.

Ushijima’s breathing is heavy. Labored. He’s trying to hold himself back. “(Y/N), deeper—take me deeper, now.”

Part of your brain vaguely recognizes that he isn’t supposed to be giving the orders here, but you’re too drunk on the feeling of fucking yourself on his cock to complain, so you lower your hips and try, but it feels like you’re just too weak to do it yourself. “Ushi please, it’s too much, too big, I can’t, please—“

And your pleading must sound like an invitation, because his eyes flash and you feel him shifting the position of his legs behind you—and then he bucks his hips up and his cock sinks into your cunt, pushing up into your gooey insides until the head is pressing into the tight opening of your cervix.

“Ahn—?” you squeal, startled. What? He—what? Fuck, it’s deep, it’s so deep, you can’t hold yourself up so you flop downward, holding onto his shoulders for dear life, “ohhh Ushi pleasepleaseplease” and you barely hear yourself over the lubed-up slap of his pelvis against your skin.

Fuck, it feels like he’s knocking the breath out of you. Feels like you can’t fucking breathe like his cock isn’t just pushing against your stomach but your lungs too, can’t breathe so you bear down on his shoulders try to hold yourself up try to let yourself adjust but—

Ushijima’s in control now.

Not that he ever wasn’t, you’d think if you were capable of thinking except you’re not because as you try to situate yourself make yourself relax around that monster cock filling you up, he’s not giving you a moment to catch your breath, instead thrusting up into you at his usual breakneck pace. Apparently he doesn’t need to use his hands to make you bounce—you’re not even moving yourself now, just trying to hold still as his hips slam his cock inside you again and again and again, and again, rubbing up against that sweet spot in your pussy so quickly that you think you might go crazy from it.

“Nngh, so tight,” he growls, and you can tell from the way the words are choked out that he’s gritting his teeth. You almost want to roll your eyes—of course you’re tight, anyone would feel tight around him—but it feels like if you do your eyes might roll back in your head so you don’t.

Jesus fuck, you can’t even understand how long it’s been but you do know that it’s absurd for you to want to cum already, only the thick mass of his cock pushing into you is somehow hitting all the right buttons, just like it always does. Even if it’s rough you want more. By now you’re trying to meet his thrusts, rolling your hips in time with him fucking you open, doing your best to participate but really it’s all you can do to even stay still with how roughly he’s fucking you. “Ushi, fuck, so deep, wanna cum I wanna cum please let me cum—“

“Touch yourself,” he commands breathlessly because he’s still tied to the headboard and he can’t do it, and you barely have the strength to pick one of your hands up off of where you’re scratching into his shoulder and pull it down to rub at your clit.

It’s not enough and you whimper desperately, you don’t want your own fingers, you want Ushijima’s, you want him to touch you. You’re probably saying it out loud by now, begging him to put his hands on you—his eyes widen and then the sound of the metal cuff chain grating over wood reaches you—you can see the skin of his wrists get lighter from lack of blood flow, he’s pulling at the cuffs, pulling too hard, he’s going to hurt himself, you have to stop him—and then you hear a snap.

Aw, shit. The bed.

The thought comes in a singular moment of clarity as you watch the rung Ushijima’s chained to separate itself from the rest of the headboard, splintering, the nail that held it in place looking pathetically flimsy next to the veins bulging in his arms as he slides the chain away from it. He flexes his hands, forming fists and then unclenching them to restore the interrupted blood flow, and then you’ve only got a second to prepare yourself before he’s upright, dragging your hips up to meet his.

“Ushi, Ushi, Ushi, I want, please, I want you,” you beg, but you didn’t really have to because you’re pretty sure there’s no force on Earth that could stop him from holding you up so he can fuck down into you with a ferocity that could be mistaken for anger if you weren’t certain it was really lust.

The entire bed is creaking and rocking against the force of his movement, but you don’t really have the headspace to worry about more property damage considering he’s got you supporting yourself on the mattress on your back and shoulders, your spine curled up so he can kneel and still have your hips aligned with his, your legs dangling bonelessly on either side of him.

Fuck. Holy fuck. You open your mouth but words don’t come out, only a choked whimper, but if you could speak you’d be saying yesyesyesyesyes, touch me.

Despite your inability to speak, Ushijima picks up on what you need and then along with his cock carving its way in and out of you you’re getting the feeling of his fingers padding over your clit. Rough and callused, not gentle, nothing like the way you touched yourself earlier, but you’re starting to realize you don’t mind the aggression. In fact, it’s good, it’s so good, so good you’re gonna cum.

You’re gonna cum.

A long, drawn-out whine is spilling out of your lips before you can stop it; you wrap your hand over your own mouth out of shame or maybe courtesy to your neighbors (although by now they’ve probably invested in earplugs after listening to you squeal like a pig on Ushijima’s cock dozens of times in the past). Still, as your climax rocks through you shove your thumb between your teeth to bite down on it, but the sharp pain is nothing compared to the pleasure.

“Ushiiiii—“ you sob around your own fingers. Your spine arches—or rather, you try to arch your back but you can’t, not with Ushijima’s full body weight pressing into you and keeping you pinned to the mattress.

It hurts, it feels good, you’re seeing stars, you’re hearing Ushijima snarl as your pussy tightens up and convulses on his cock. His one-handed grip on your ass gets painfully tight as he abandons whatever pretense of restraint he had left and pumps his cock into you so hard and fast you’re pretty sure the headboard isn’t going to be the only thing broken, but you don’t fucking care because you’re cumming, you’re cumming, you’re cumming so hard you think you black out for a second, holy fuck.

It’s only when you hear Ushijima’s panting breath and feel him pulling your hand away from your mouth that you regain your grip on reality. “You’re bleeding,” he says, holding your hand up and inspecting the shallow indentations your teeth made on your thumb.

“…You broke my bed,” you reply tiredly once you’ve gotten in a lungful of air, what feels like the first full breath you’ve been able to take since he put his cock inside you.

“I’m sorry,” Ushijima tells you, although he doesn’t look particularly sorry.

You roll your eyes. “Did you cum?”

“Yes. When you did.” Without him holding you up there’s nothing to prevent you from sliding down off his softening (but still unfairly impressive) cock. You’re certainly not strong enough to keep yourself in position.

Even if he hadn’t confirmed it, you’d still be able to feel the familiar heat of his semen plastering your insides, and once your still-sensitive pussy is exposed to the cool air your inner muscles squeeze involuntarily but hard enough to force some of his cum out—you sense it, hot and thick, dripping out of your pussy to smear against your thighs. “Can we take a bath?” you ask, knowing you’ll barely be able to walk over to the bathroom, much less stand under the shower unassisted.

Ushijima nods and moves off the bed. “I can carry you,” he adds when you try to stand up and your knees almost give out before you flop back onto the mattress.

At this angle, with you sitting and him standing in front, it’s difficult not to see that despite cumming literally less than two minutes ago, he’s already getting stiff again. Jesus, is he even human? After how hard you just came, the thought of letting him fuck you again is giving you something stronger than butterflies, but you look up at him and offer anyway. “Wait, do you…um, want to go for another round?”

Ushijima’s gaze meets yours and then travels over your body underneath him. You must look like a mess—sweaty, hair all fucked up and tangled, body still shaking with the aftershocks of your climax and barely able to sit comfortably on your aching pussy—and you guess he sees how jittery (nervous?) you feel because for the first time since your relationship started, he shakes his head to turn down an offer of sex. “No, I’ll take care of it. Let’s clean up first.”

“Okay,” you sigh, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and raising your arms to let him pick you up.

“(Y/N).”

When Ushijima doesn’t move to carry you, you frown. “Hm?”

“The cuffs.”

Oh, right. The black leather is wrapped around both of his wrists, chain still intact. Apparently these cuffs are stronger than your headboard. Good quality. Too bad they’re going in the trash. You make quick work of the release and then undo the straps carefully, massaging over the light pink marks on your boyfriend’s wrists once they’re free.

“Sorry, did it hurt you? I didn’t mean to—I mean, I just wanted…” You trail off, feeling infinitely embarrassed that despite all your claims of dominating him, he still ended up with the upper hand, cuffs or no cuffs. And you liked submitting to him. There’s no denying that.

“It didn’t. And…I enjoyed having you on top,” Ushijima tells you, lifting you effortlessly into a princess-carry now that his arms are free.

“Yeah right. We’re never using those again,” you scoff, tucking your head into his chest as he carries you to the bathroom. “My boss is going to get mad that I keep taking sick days every time I have sex with you. I’m just going to throw the cuffs out.”

From your position, so close to him, you can barely see the upward quirk of his mouth that would be as good as laughter for anyone else. “Don’t get rid of them. I think…next time, I would like to have you wearing them, (Y/N).”

Well, fuck.

[honeyhan-123]

No Body, No Crime

Summary: Sheriff Bodecker just has a few questions about your husbands disappearance that he’d like to go over with you. 

Warnings: Non-con/dub-con, abuse of power, Lee is a sneaky devil, very brief (squint and you miss it) mention of an abusive household. 

Word Count: 2.7k

AN: No one asked for it, but I’ve finally written some Lee for y’all. Hope you enjoy! Also, a massive thank you to the awesome @lilithhellfire​ who beta’d this for me, I really appreciate it!

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When you heard the knock on your door you never thought it would be the devil coming to call. But there he stood in all his pudgy glory. Sheriff Lee Bodecker.

You had seen the Sheriff a fair bit in the last few weeks, ever since your husband Trey had skipped town but he had always been accompanied by some deputy or other, and he had never called so late at night. He must know something. 

Forgetting all formalities, you jumped right into the questioning. ‘So? What is it? What have you found?’ Your voice was panicked despite his call waking you up. 

‘You’re not even gonna invite me in darlin’?’ His deep drawl cut through you and you realised he was right. You probably didn’t want to have this conversation out on your front doorstep where any of your neighbours could overhear. You stepped back and opened the door wider. ‘Please come in Sheriff.’ 

‘Darlin, I think we’re past that point in our relationship. Just call me Lee.’ You supposed he was right, you had been spending a lot of time down at the department recently. Still, the way he mentioned your relationship and how he kept calling you darling sent a chill through you. You weren’t his darling. 

‘I don’t suppose I could get some coffee? Maybe even something sweet to eat too? I was up half the night last night and it looks like I’ll be up most of tonight too.’ His authoritative tone made it clear you didn’t really have a choice and so you left him in your little sitting room before flittering off to the kitchen. 

Your mind was a blur as you methodically went through the actions of lighting the stove and grinding the coffee beans. You let the coffee stew as you grabbed the tin of freshly made brownies. They had been meant for the church picnic tomorrow morning but you didn’t think letting Lee have one or two would make that much of a difference. 

You had a million questions and no answers. Why was the sheriff even here? What had he found? Or God forbid, had he found Trey? A shudder wrecked through you as you thought of the unthinkable only to be brought back by Lee’s hand on your shoulder.

‘You alright there darlin’? The coffee’s probably ready by now.’ You gulped and nodded jerkily as you stepped away from his lingering touch. 

‘Sugar and cream?’ Your voice was nowhere near as strong as you wanted it to be and you knew the sheriff had heard the difference. 

‘Plenty of both please.’ You doled out ample amounts into his cup and prepared your own as something to do, even though you already knew you couldn’t drink it. 

The couch groaned under Lee’s weight and he patted the seat next to him, calling you over. You teetered on the edge of the faded cushion and forced a smile as his arm rested along the back of the couch.

‘You know darlin’, there’s been somethin’ about this case that just hasn’t sat right with me ever since it first came across my desk.’

You took a minute to respond, unsure if he was baiting you or just thinking out loud. ‘Oh? What is it?’

‘Well you see, it’s a little hard to explain, but when you’ve been on the job as long as I have you start to notice things. Little things that by themselves don’t matter much but when you look at the big picture, well, it becomes a whole lot clearer.’ 

‘Little things? Like what?’ Your heart was pounding in your chest, your meager dinner of chicken fillet and veggies threatening to come back up.

‘You know, just the odd thing here and there. Like how in the week before your husband went missing you made sure to tell anyone who would listen you were workin’ that Saturday. Or how even though you were at the diner from lunch till close you didn’t take a break. Not once in ten hours were you anywhere where someone couldn’t see you. You wanted to make sure you had an airtight alibi so when your husband was finally reported missing, we wouldn’t pin it on you.’ 

You felt the blood rush down from your head and there was a lump in your throat. ‘Wh-what are you… I don’t understand.’ 

‘Oh no darlin’ I think you do. I know that you and I both know that we can look for weeks and weeks and we’ll never find Trey alive will we? How’d you do it huh? Bludgeon him in his sleep? Or did ya put somethin’ in his coffee?’

‘I didn’t…  I-I loved my husband. I didn’t do anything.’ You tried to stand from the couch but his arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you back down against his body. 

‘C’mon darlin’ we both know that’s horse shit but I am feeling awfully generous right now.’ Confusion swept over you. What was he saying?

‘Generous?’ 

‘Yeah, very generous. I won’t turn you in but… well it is gonna cost you. Generosity doesn’t come free.’ His other hand brushed your dressing gown away from your thigh before resting on the bare skin just above your knee. 

Realisation dawned on you and you tried to shove his hand away. You weren’t about to trade one monster for another. ‘I didn’t do anything and if you had even a morsel of proof I would’ve heard about it by now. In a town this small news travels fast.’ 

Lee let out a dark chuckle that sent a shiver through you. ‘Do you seriously think I need real proof? I can fake anythin’ I want and at the end of the day who’s gonna believe you, some little waitress over me, the man they elected Sheriff? You’re doomed either way darlin’ so why don’t you do yourself a favour and take off that dressing gown and let me see that body of yours before I lose my patience.’ 

You were all too well aware of the Sheriff’s darker side to go against his wishes. With a shaky breath you stood up, glad to not have his hands on you anymore, no matter how temporary their absence was. Your legs threatened to buckle as you fumbled with the knot. The heavy cotton finally fell away from your shoulders and into a pile on the floor. 

‘C’mere darlin’. Let me see you.’ You settled yourself in between the sheriff’s legs and his hands quickly grasped your hips, bunching the satin nighty. ‘Well, isn’t that a little unexpected treat.’ He paused to admire you, his cerulean blue eyes raking up and down your body before he spoke again. ‘Take it off.’ 

You shut your eyes and grasped the edge of the satin, pulling it over your head in one swoop. ‘Oh yeah. That’s much better.’ His hands grasped your tits, groping the flesh greedily. An image of your husband flashed through your mind and you cursed his name. Even in death he was still screwing you over. 

Lee’s hand dipping down to the apex of your thighs had your eyes snapping wide open. Regret of not wearing panties to bed filled you as his fingers did too. They explored your walls, scissoring this way and that. They teased your slick from your unwilling body and you shuddered, disgusted at the effect he had on you. 

His thumb found your clit and started rubbing smooth circles around the little bud. Your knees began to shake as the squelch of your juices filled the room. Your arms involuntarily reached out to grasp his shoulders as he continued to toy with you. A devilish smirk came over him and he wetted his lips before attaching them to one of your pert nipples. 

A gasp fell from your lips as he suckled on the tender flesh in time with his thick fingers. Before you even had time to recognise it for what it was your orgasm washed over you. Your body shook as pleasure made its way through your veins and you could only just feel Lee’s arm circle around your waist holding you up. 

When you recovered, you watched as Lee withdrew his hand from you and held it up so you could see it glistening. ‘Look at that darlin’. This pussy already knows who it belongs to now don’t it?’ You bit back a snarky response as he licked his fingers clean, his eyes remaining on yours the entire time. 

‘Now c’mere. I didn’t come all the way over here just to get you off.’ His hands dipped down to where his belt was partially hidden by his overflowing stomach. He fumbled with the belt before pulling his pants and underpants down a couple inches. Just enough for his cock to pop out. 

You tried not to stare but it was hard not to. He was easily bigger than Trey’s pathetic excuse of one had been, plus this one was flushed, with little drops of cream oozing from the tip. 

‘Well c’mon darlin’ don’t just stare at it. I’m sure you know what to do.’ His arms stretched out along the back of the couch calling you forward.

‘No. I- I can’t. You can’t make me do this. Please don’t.’ You tried taking a step back only to be stopped by Lee’s darkening glare. 

‘I can make you do whatever the fuck I want.’ Lee spat at you, his glare turning positively hostile. ‘I’m in a pretty good mood right now so I’ll give you five seconds to get that cunt over here before I’ll show you my bad side. Five… Four…’ You blinked back your tears as you approached him, straddling one leg on either side of his thick thighs. ‘That’s a smart choice you just made darlin’.’ 

You refused to look at him as you gripped his aching cock and lined it up with your entrance. With one small sigh of resignation you sunk down onto him. The stretch was worse than you had thought and you could already tell you were going to be sore tomorrow. ‘Fuck, darlin’. God… this cunt… fuck me.’ Lee was already breathless as you began to ride him. His arms fell to your hips, pulling you in even closer. His soft belly rubbed against you with every lift of your hips and his shirt buttons which seemed to be clinging on for dear life scratched along your chest.

You weren’t afraid to let your fingernails dig into his shoulders. A sadistic part of you wanted to draw his blood as though that made up for what he was forcing you to do. You gritted your teeth as his lips found your nipples once more, leaving a scatter of love bites on your skin as he went. 

You tried to hold in your moans of pleasure as he brushed against your g-spot but a stuttering of your hips gave you away. ‘Oh you like that? Right there?’ Lee’s hips flexed up to meet yours, hitting his mark. 

You made sure to look into his eyes as you responded, ignoring the pleasure he was causing. ‘I don’t like any of this.’ Lee’s eyes narrowed at you and his jaw clenched. His hand briefly left your hip and you felt the rush of air before it landed on your ass with a smack. His other came up to clutch your chin roughly. 

‘Don’t you lie to me darlin’. I know you like this. I know you do. And do ya wanna know how I know?’ His hand squeezed its way between your bodies, coming to your clit. ‘I know because this little cunt is squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. It’s tryin to milk me dry because that’s what all you women want. You just want a man’s cum in ya. You just want to be owned. And don’t bother trying to deny it because your body can’t lie to me.’ He gave your jaw one last squeeze before settling his hand back on your hip and rocked your body against his. 

As much as his words had disgusted you, they had also turned you on and you could feel yourself getting impossibly close to the edge. Lee’s hand clawed at the back of your neck as he pulled you in for a dominating kiss. His tongue easily forced its way between your lips and he demonstrated his ownership over your body as you kissed him back. His kiss was harsh and needy, all teeth and tongue. You could barely breathe as you felt your toes curl. Your subsequent moans were swallowed by Lee and he planted his feet firmly to help thrust up into you. 

‘God, that pussy is just squeezing me dry. Fuck, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me fuckin’ cum.’ His voice was husky as his lips found their way to your shoulder. You could feel him swell inside you, his body tensing against yours. 

You didn’t have time to tell him to pull out before he was yanking you as far down his shaft that he could. You could feel spurt after spurt of his warm seed fill your cunt as he let out a sinful moan. His lips found yours once more as his hips rocked slowly against yours, making sure you got every drop he had to give. 

When his hands at last disappeared from your body you opened your eyes. You were startled by how flushed he looked, his cheeks well passed being called ‘rosy’ and his breath was heavily laboured. He had a lazy smirk as he openly objectified your body, his arms once again resting along the back of the couch. His pink tongue swiping across his plump lips pulled you from your observation and you hastily stood up. 

You wanted this man out of your house now.

You had satisfied him and done what he had wanted. Surely he would leave you alone now. You dressed on shaking legs and made sure to tie your robe extra tight. Even though he had already seen you naked, you didn’t want him seeing anything ever again. 

You stood as far away from him as possible as he pulled his pants back up and popped his sheriff hat back on. His hand strayed to the tin of brownies you had pulled out earlier as he crossed the coffee table towards you and the door. You watched as he popped the entire thing into his mouth and a little groan came from his throat. 

‘Well, these are quite the treat aren’t they?’ You hated the smirk he sent your way but you nodded just the same. 

‘It’s a family recipe.’ 

‘I’m sure you’re excellent in the kitchen, though, I doubt you’re as good as you are in the sack.’ Your jaw clenched tightly and you ignored his last comment. 

‘My mother taught me a lot.’ Lee nodded as though in deep understanding and you opened the door, eager for him to leave your house forever. He stepped out onto your stoop and turned back to face you. 

‘Well, I sure do look forward to seeing everything else she taught you.’

‘What- What do you mean?’ Dread turned your blood to ice in your veins.

‘You didn’t think that this was a one time thing did ya? You committed first degree murder darlin’. You’re gonna have to pay up a lot more to get out of a charge like that.’

‘But- But you said it was the once.’

‘I said no such thing. It’s not my fault you didn’t ask for the terms. If you wanna remain a free woman, you’re gonna do what I say and continue letting me pay you night time visits ya hear? I’d hate for any damning evidence to come to light…’ Lee let his sentence hang in the air and you very nearly considered telling him he could go fuck off, but then you remembered the reason you were in this mess in the first place. Prison was only marginally better than an abusive household for the little bundle of cells inside you to grow. 

‘See ya soon darlin’.’ Lee racked his eyes down your body one last time before tipping his hat to you. You stood in the doorway, watching as he climbed into the cruiser and drove off down your street. 

You could do nothing but pray you hadn’t just traded one monster for an even worse one.

+

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Thanks for reading!

[seongsangi]

can’t keep my hands to myself (2)

pairing: johnny x reader x jaehyun

summary: what happens after that phone call with jaehyun?

word count: 4.3k

warnings: drinking (pls drink responsibly!!), threesome, voyeurism, dacryphilia, somnophilia absolute filth read to find out!!

author’s note: read part 1

The three of you spend the rest of the night drinking Jaehyun’s sorrows away. He thought this girl was really into him, but when he waited for an hour and was ghosted by her when he tried to call or text her, he knew it was too good to be true. Now here he is, drowning himself in peach soju. You and Johnny share glances at each other, wondering if he should slow down or just let him have his night.

 “Anything we can do to help you feel better?” Johnny slightly nudges you with his elbow and you shove him, knowing exactly what he means but not while the poor man is almost drunk. You glance over at Jaehyun, letting your eyes roam his figure across from you. His long legs are clad in black jeans, thighs spread and looking like an invitation. He looks so damn good in these all black outfits, you just want to climb in his lap and –

“Can you get me another one? That’ll be good enough for me.” He takes his last swig of the bottle in his hand, setting it down on the floor. You get up from the couch, heading to the fridge for another. Johnny and Jaehyun follow your figure with their eyes, the short skirt doing wonders to show off your legs. Johnny doesn’t feel jealous at all that his best friend is staring down his girl. He would be lying if he said he didn’t notice the way you both steal glances at each other when you all hang out.

 You come back with a bottle in hand, standing over Jaehyun and taking a couple swigs before handing it to him. “I don’t think you should drink all of that, Jae.”

 “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” Jaehyun is now testing the waters himself. A small smile forms on your lips at the name, but you quickly try to cover it. Johnny reaches for your hand, tugging you into his lap. As Jaehyun reaches for the remote to find something to watch, you feel Johnny’s hand glide across the back of your neck, turning your head in his direction. He gives you a warm smile, squeezing your thigh. You mouth “what?” but he just glances over your shoulder before pressing his lips to yours. You can taste the soju on him, smiling into the kiss. When you try to pull away, he holds your head still, lips steadily moving against yours. He sighs, kissing you more fervently and pressing your body closer to him.

 “Johnny, what the –” his lips are now attached to your neck, letting out a soft moan at his warm breath on your skin. Your eyes dart to Jaehyun, who is glued to the scene and shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His mind races back to the phone call from earlier.

 Jaehyun was about to hang up when he thought he heard Johnny say something. He listened for a few seconds and realized Johnny wasn’t talking to him at all. Jaehyun was confused, did Johnny forget to hang up? Does he know he’s still on the call? Jaehyun felt like he was invading your privacy, but he was too intrigued by the sound of your moans to say the least. He figured he could listen just this once and never say anything about it. There was this unspoken attraction he had for you, but he would always respect your relationship with Johnny. Of course, he would never do anything about to jeopardize it, but he will admit he’s thought about you in more ways than one. Was that wrong of him? Fuck, he doesn’t know any more.

 You muster up the strength to pull Johnny’s head away from your neck, asking him seriously, “What are you doing?” Johnny looks over to Jaehyun, who is running a hand through his hair and blushing red, from the alcohol or from what just happened, it’s hard to tell. “I’m just giving him a show. It seems he likes to watch, don’t you think?” You swear your heart is going to beat out of your chest as you watch Jaehyun bite his lip, eyes following Johnny’s hand as it travels underneath your skirt, pushing it up to expose more of your thigh. Your body is on fire now, the audience making your head spin with every touch Johnny leaves. Okay, you did pull that stunt over the phone, but you didn’t think things would progress this fast!

 Johnny leans in close to your ear, telling you you don’t have to if you don’t want to. You want it so bad, but you need to hear Jaehyun say it too.

 “Do you want to watch, Jae?” You call out to him, the question sending blood rushing to his member. “Yeah, I do, is that okay?” His voice is quiet, hard to hear almost. You core tingles at his confirmation, letting Johnny do whatever he wants with you as Jaehyun watches.

 Jaehyun takes another sip from the bottle, letting the alcohol cloud his mind and lower his inhibitions. He’s waiting for someone to say something, to snap him out of this dream he must be having. He’s letting the scene before him unfold, lost in Johnny’s hands roaming your body and the way you react so sweetly to his touch. His pants are getting a little too tight for him, bulge growing at the sight of Johnny repositioning you on the edge of the couch. Johnny gets on his knees on the floor, keeping your legs spread. Jaehyun sucks in a deep breath at the sight of your panties being pushed to the side.

 “Show him your pretty little pussy,” Johnny’s words make your core clench. This is all so new to you, you feel slightly embarrassed and want to close your legs but you can’t with Johnny’s grip on them. Your hands hesitantly move to spread your lips for the man across from you. He’s straining against his pants at the sight of your wetness, so close yet so far. Johnny hums, you’re such a good girl for him. He glides two fingers across your juices, slipping them in and stretching you out. You throw your head back in a string of moans, his tongue lapping at your sensitive nub. Jaehyun closes his eyes for a second, listening to your sweet moans and rubbing himself lightly.

 Johnny adds a third and you swear you’re going to cry, his tongue on your clit and fingers hitting your spot with every thrust are too much. You lock eyes with Jaehyun, giving him your best seductive look, making his pants twitch. Your hips buck on their own, unable to stay still with Johnny’s ministrations. He’s so good at working your body, he knows you so well and uses it to his advantage. He pulls his fingers out, spreading your lips and focusing kitten licks on your clit. Your moans increase in pitch, the undivided attention to your clit driving you close to the edge.

 “Baby, I’m gonna cum,” you hold his hand as you climax, spilling into his mouth and making a mess on the floor. He laps everything he can up, drawing out your intense orgasm. His tongue doesn’t stop even as you tell him it’s too much and you’re definitely crying now. Jaehyun almost feels bad for the overstimulation, but something in him lights up when he sees the tears streaming down your face. You look so pretty like this and he wants to see you ruined even more.

 Johnny finally pulls away from your core, giving you a chance to collect yourself. You can’t even open your eyes and your legs are sore as hell from being held up for so long. You just want to go to sleep right here. Johnny laughs at your tired state as he cleans up, clearly too fucked out. “And that’s it for tonight, boys.” Johnny carries you to the bedroom, turning on the shower and leaving a hot and bothered Jaehyun all by himself.

The next few days, you’re too busy working and studying for an exam that you don’t get the chance to go over to Johnny’s place. Which may or may not be a good thing, you think you still need time to recover from what happened that night. Goddamn, that really happened, didn’t it? You know it was all mutual but you still can’t get it out of your head that it may have been a little too fast. Well, no point in dwelling over it. You’re spending the night at his place tonight so maybe there will be a chance for all of you to talk about it.

 “I just, I don’t know, is it gonna make things weird between you guys now?” You ask Johnny, worrying about their friendship.

 “Well, I don’t think it’s been weird since then. Unless he’s just really good at hiding it.”

 Jaehyun actually doesn’t come home until you and Johnny fall asleep, getting caught up at work. He knows you’re spending the night tonight and was sort of hoping he didn’t run into you. He didn’t want you to think he was some creep who just liked to watch. To be honest, he didn’t really understand it himself either. It was also new to him, and he felt like he could trust you and Johnny and found himself enjoying it more than he thought. Maybe there will be another chance for all of you to talk about it.

 The time reads 4:17 am and you carefully get out of bed, not trying to wake Johnny as you head to the kitchen. You almost screamed when you saw Jaehyun standing at the counter in the dark. “Oh my god, you scared me!” You grab the pitcher of water in front of him, pouring yourself a glass. You’re trying not to stare at him, the white shirt and gray sweats making your mind wander. He’s avoiding eye contact with you, looking at his glass of water. Okay, this might be a little awkward.

“How have you been?” you decide to ask, not sure what else to say. He tells you he’s been okay, working a lot these past couple days. You nod, making small conversation. There’s another awkward silence after that, and you’re about to bid him goodnight until he says something.

 “Um, about the other night…” he trails, putting his hands in his pocket and leaning against the counter. You hope this doesn’t ruin anything between all three of you. “We don’t have to do it again if you don’t want to, Jae.” He quickly backtracks, “No, no, it’s not that. I mean, I liked it I just–” he stumbles over his words, trying to figure out how to say it. “I just don’t want you to think I’m weird or anything for liking it.” You reach out to place your hand on his arm, prompting him to look at you.

 “Look, it’s safe to say we all enjoyed it so it’s not weird at all. Don’t worry about it too much.” He lets out a sigh of relief. “If you liked it, maybe we can do it again. But we’d have to ask Johnny first of course.” You give him a soft smile, not wanting him to feel like he should be embarrassed about it.

 “Plus, I liked having you watch,” you say with a wink before heading back to Johnny’s room. “Goodnight, Jae.”

 The next time you stay at Johnny’s place, the semester is over and it’s finally winter break. After a night of watching Christmas movies, you tell Johnny you’re going to bed. He wants to stay up and play some games with Jaehyun but you don’t have it in you to stay awake. They both share a look with each other, watching you saunter off to bed for the night. What you don’t know is they’ve got quite the surprise for you.

 When a few hours have passed and they’re sure you’re asleep, Johnny carefully opens the door to his room with Jaehyun close behind. They’ve been talking about it all day, waiting for the right moment to make their move. Johnny recalls you mentioning the idea of being woken up to him in between your legs, the thought of it turns you on immensely. How can he say no to that?

 He finds you laying on your side, curled up underneath the blanket. Jaehyun sits at the edge of the bed as Johnny comes around to you, towering over you and peeling the covers back slowly. You shift in bed as the covers are peeled off, now lying on your back. Johnny drags his fingertips up your legs, sending tingles throughout your body. You furrow your brows, it feels like something is tickling you. Johnny pauses for a bit, gauging your reaction before sitting down. He pushes your legs apart as far as he can without disturbing you, just enough so he can rub circles over your clit. He appreciates your lack of panties tonight, quickly finding the sensitive nub.

 Your dream starts off innocent, cuddling with Johnny in bed, your head on his chest. Next thing you know, you’re straddling his hips and sliding your tongue into his mouth, fighting for dominance. He quickly flips you over and you wrap your legs around him, rubbing your clothed sex on his bulge. “Baby girl, just what do you think you’re doing?” His low voice sends shivers down your back, smirking against his lips. “Just want you to fuck me,” you peck a kiss to his lips, “please?” Your flimsy shorts are a mess, sticking uncomfortably to your skin, eager for Johnny’s touch where you need him most.

 He tosses your shirt up, kissing down your torso as he presses his fingers harder to your clit. He can feel the wetness through your shorts, picking up the pace of his fingers to hear you moan for him. “Mmm, babe, that feels good” you pant, in the dream and in real life. Johnny feels a surge of pride hearing you talk about him in your sleep. Jaehyun is watching closely, wanting to touch you but he holds himself back. Johnny attaches his mouth to your nipple, swirling it around gently. You slightly arch your back, pushing your nipple further into his mouth. He’s surprised you haven’t woken up yet and decides to see how far he can go.

 Johnny slips his fingers into your shorts, gathering your juices on his slender digits. You moan softly, this dream feels so real. You spread your legs subconsciously, imagining Johnny’s fingers sliding in and out of you. He smirks at your movements, taking the opportunity to give you what you want. Jaehyun shifts on the bed to get a better look at you, watching your breathing get faster as Johnny picks up the pace. Johnny’s thumb presses to your clit as he scissors you, your moans picking up. Your hips are moving against the bed, stirring out of your sleep at the warm feeling in your center. You haven’t had a wet dream in a while and this one is getting a little heated.

 “Are you waking up, baby?” Johnny’s voice sounds like it’s right in your ear, coaxing you out of your sleep. His fingers are still moving slowly in you as your eyes flutter open, feeling a presence in bed with you. As soon as he sees your eyes open, his hand starts moving ruthlessly, catching you off guard.

 “Fuck, Johnny wait,” your hands are grabbing the pillow underneath your head, squeezing for dear life. You turn to your right and Jaehyun looks in awe, practically drooling over you. You did not expect this at all and you feel yourself gushing at the thought of them waking you up. “You like the surprise?” Johnny asks as he kisses your inner thigh, pulling his fingers out. You hum in agreement, reaching your hand out to Jaehyun who seems to be sitting so far away.

 “Did you like it?” You ask as he takes your hand, letting you pull him closer. You sit up on your knees, looking back and forth between Johnny and Jaehyun. You don’t have to say anything and Johnny already knows what you’re thinking. He scoots further back, giving you and Jaehyun some room. You’re still holding hands, tracing circles on his hand with your thumb. “I don’t want you to watch tonight.” You rest his hand on your thigh, encouraging him to touch you. He gives you a look like he’s asking you if you’re sure about this. “Don’t you want to touch me, Jae?” You beckon in your best sultry voice, driving him crazy.

 He looks at Johnny once more, a small nod egging him on. He takes in a deep breath, giving your thigh a squeeze before he pushes your shoulders down, your back hitting the mattress with such force. He grabs your wrists to pin them above your head, kicking your legs apart to kneel in between them. He leans down to whisper in your ear, “Johnny tells me you like it rough?” You whimper when he pushes his knee against your core and pinches your nipple at the same time. Oh god, you didn’t think it’d be like this. The switch up in his demeanor has you excited for what’s to come.

 You turn your head to look at Johnny, who is paying close attention to his girlfriend and best friend together. Jaehyun watched you two last time, so he doesn’t mind sitting back during this one. You’re getting extremely aroused thinking about all the things you want Jaehyun to do to you as Johnny watches. You wiggle your hips, asking Jaehyun to take your shorts off.

 “Ask him nicely,” Johnny perks up. Jaehyun rolls your nipple between his fingers, pinching harder. “Pretty please, Jae, want you to touch me,” you roll your hips against his knee, showing him how needy you are. “You’re so hot, can’t wait to fuck you,” he slaps your thigh hard, stopping your hips from moving. He sits on his heels, inching your shorts down as you lift your hips. He lets go of your hands, sliding down to face your core. His hands grip the back of your knees, pushing your legs towards your chest. He flattens his tongue against your slit, dragging it up and down making your toes curl.

 “Ohhh my goddd,” you whine, feeling your juices leaking onto the bed.

 “You’re so wet sweetheart,” Jaehyun teases you, focusing his attention on your clit. You feel the warmth building in your stomach, grabbing the sheets so hard you think they’ll rip. He wraps his lips around your clit, licking and sucking in a way that makes your eyes roll back. You don’t even know how long his head was in between your legs for, but you feel your high approaching quickly. “I’m cumming,” you yell, clamping your legs around his head. He pries them back open with ease, lapping at your core. You feel something land on the bed next to you, but you’re too focused on the feeling of Jaehyun’s tongue to pay attention.

 You quite literally scream when you feel the vibrator pressing against your clit, thrashing around on the bed as Jaehyun tries to hold you down. “I can’t, I can’t –” you whine, feeling a second one coming so soon.

 “Yeah, you gonna cum for us? You like it when he touches you?” Johnny’s voice is right above you, stroking your hair away to see your face contorted in pleasure. Jaehyun slips the vibrator in you as Johnny slides his hand down your front, replacing the vibrator with his fingers on your clit. You scream so loud Johnny has to slap his hand over your mouth, squirting all over their fingers and making a mess on the sheets. Tears are forming in your eyes from the intensity of the orgasm, and they threaten to spill as their hands don’t stop. You’re a crying mess by the time they pull back, both enjoying your fucked out state a little too much.

 "Squirted all over us baby. Look at the mess you made," Johnny mocks you, shoving his fingers in your mouth and you lick them clean, palming him through his sweats. You look at Jaehyun in between your legs, using your foot to do the same to him. They’re both rock hard and you want them in your mouth. You sit up on your knees, asking if you can suck them both off. Jaehyun comes around to the edge where Johnny is standing, who’s already pulling his sweats down. You reach for him, pumping him a few times before taking him down your throat, getting his dick wet. Jaehyun stares at you incredulously, watching you gag on Johnny. He gives your ass a hard slap, earning a glare from you for the sting. Johnny pulls your head away from him, shoving your face toward Jaehyun’s sweats. You bat your lashes at him, pleading with your eyes for him to take them off so you can finally get a taste of him.

 They both have impressive lengths, wetness gushing to your center thinking about how good they’ll ruin you. You let out a long moan as you take Jaehyun in your mouth, the vibrations making him throw his head back. Johnny still has a grip on your hair, guiding your head along Jaehyun’s dick. You’re drooling on his dick, the sound of spit along with Jaehyun’s low groans filling the room. Your jaw is getting tired but you just can’t get enough.

 “How do you want it, sweetheart?” You swear you’ll never get tired of that name coming from him. You look at Johnny, a sly smile on your lips as you ask, “Is it okay if Jaehyun fucks me first?” Johnny doesn’t say anything, just grabs your chin and leans down to your face. He tells you to stick your tongue out, letting a trail of spit fall from his mouth to yours. “Oh, that’s nasty,” Jaehyun bites his lip. You’re a little too excited when Johnny manhandles you, throwing you on your stomach and lifting your hips in the air. He climbs up the bed as Jaehyun gets into position behind you. He lines himself up with your core, gathering your slick on his tip. Now it’s Jaehyun’s turn to pull your hair, arching your back as you brace yourself with your hands. Johnny is front of you now, pumping himself as he Jaehyun slides right in.

 “Fuck, so good," Jaehyun groans, bottoming out and earning a whimper from you at the full feeling. “Shit, so deep,” eyes glossing over as he finds his pace, fucking you dumb. Johnny caresses your cheek, slipping his thumb into your mouth in which you eagerly suck on. You close your eyes, letting Jaehyun’s dick take control of your body. You can feel every inch of him, sliding out slowly but slamming right back in. He holds you close to him, giving it to you just the way you want it. He moves his hips more fervently, increasing the pace and force of his thrusts. Your breasts bounce with each stroke, mouth left open with pathetic whines. Johnny loves to see you all fucked out, waiting patiently for his turn with you. "My pretty baby loves to be fucked, isn't that right?"

 “Ah yes, it feels so so good, don’t stop please Jae.” Jaehyun grabs your throat, pulling your back to his chest. “I won’t stop until you cum all over me. Can you do that, sweetheart?” He fucks into you so hard, all you can manage to say is yes over and over, getting lost in your headspace. Johnny skillfully attacks your clit again with his fingers, and before you know it you’re cumming again. Jaehyun pulls out, your tight walls becoming too much for him. Johnny helps you ride out your high, smoothing his hand over your thigh to help you calm down. He picks up the vibrator, the sound of it making your nerves tingle.

 “No, wait, that’s too much,” you try to beg him not to use it because you cannot handle that. He only gives a light chuckle before grabbing your waist to lay you down on your back. He puts one leg over his shoulder, sliding in and pressing the toy to your abused clit. You slap a hand over your own mouth, the lewd sounds from you making you embarrassed. Jaehyun has a better way of shutting you up. He kneels by your head, moving your hand and telling you to open up. You welcome him into your mouth, sliding your tongue along his member. You can’t help moaning on his dick when Johnny is fucking you so well.

“You love this like the little slut you are. Can’t get enough of two dicks.” Johnny puts a hand on your abdomen, pushing down and sliding into you slowly. “Can you feel me right here? You can barely take me baby girl.” Johnny knows what he’s doing and he does it so well. Jaehyun begins to thrust into your mouth, chasing his high. Every fiber in your being is stimulated, you can feel an orgasm harder than the other ones coming. Johnny slamming his hips into yours and the vibrations on your bundle of nerves is so overwhelming, you come undone with a loud cry, legs shaking uncontrollably.

 Johnny throws the vibrator down, leaning down and keeping your leg on his shoulder, your walls getting unbelievably tight with each thrust. Not too long after, he’s painting your walls white, filling you up with his warm cum. Jaehyun quickly grabs your face, shoving into your mouth as he cums down your throat, making you swallow it all. You feel so worn out and used, Johnny collapsing on top of you. Jaehyun runs a hand through his hair, all sweaty from tonight’s events.

 “Oh my god,” you laugh once you collect yourself. “I can’t believe we did that.”

 “What, having regrets already?” Johnny muffles into your chest.

 You shove him off of you, getting out of bed to grab a towel from the closet.

 “I’ll be in the shower if anyone wants to join,” you tease, knowing they can’t keep their hands to themselves.

[itspdameronthings]

Hard workout

Summary: since its kinktober season. Thought i need to write something. To make me forget what is going on around me. All it is about Benny had a hard workout. while asleep. Wakes up to a nice surprise.

Warning: 18+ content. smutt. no minors allowed to read this.

Every part of Benny's body hurt. Had been put through a series of routines to prep him for an incoming event in a few weeks. Thank God for call pooling with his brother. Driving is something he cannot do. His arms are so sore from the weights, pull ups, running up a warped wall like a ninja warrior.

Will helped him inside. Up the stairs to your shared room. He tells Benny as he leaves," try not to move too much. If you want . I'll text butter bean to tend to you." Benny moans as he tries to get comfortable," don't do that. She is tending to new interns. Last thing she needs is to worry about my old aching body."

After his brother left. Benny closes his eyes. Try to get some rest. In a matter of moments. He falls asleep. Dreaming about his love.

Four hours later. You finally arrived at your cozy apartment. Thank God your day is over. One thing sounds good right now.nice bubble bath and relax. Then wait for your fighter to come home.

Noticed something on the couch. Benny's gym bag. Scratching your head. Sworn you thought he would be still at the gym. Hoping that nothing bad happened to benny. Went upstairs to see if he was there. Sure enough. There he is in bed. Eyes closed. Still in his gym clothes. To you he looks like a sweet baby in that state. Thought comes to mind. Have some fun with him. Laying on your side. Gently touching his face with your fingertips. Which he doesn't flinch. Lifting his shirt up enough for you to kiss his chest. That made him sigh. Smiling as you continue with your mission. Kiss his nipples. Knowing he loves when you do that. Time for the big guns. Slipping off your pants,and panties. Slowly grind against his leg with your now wet folds. That made him whimper. More grinding you did, the louder his moans got. Slowly opening his blue eyes. Noticed his love grinding his leg. How he wants to reach out to touch you. His arms hurt. You noticed something was not right. You whisper, " baby? What is the matter? You always touch me when I do this to you " he moans," seems I overdid it in training. Body hurts like hell. Now I cant touch you the way I want to. " you lean over to kiss his sweet lips," my poor baby. I know what would help you. Let me love you. Then we get into the tub. So the hot water will ease your aches.

Benny nods as he watches you take control. Slowly removing your top,and your bra. Throwing them on the floor. Then removing his shorts. Hate when he lets out a hissing sound. Kiss his lips," I know baby. I'm sorry. Just relax baby. Let your girl take care of you for a change." Sits on his legs as you start to grind against his now hard cock. Feel his hands rubbing your legs. Taking a breath. His touch sends you chills up your spine. Leaning forward so you can kiss him deeply. Feel his tongue searching for yours. Both of you moan as he nibbles on your neck, " damn baby. Don't stop grinding. Love when ya do that. Take care of me baby."

Kiss your way down his chest. Getting ready to make him quiver with your mouth on his cock. So ready for you. Licking the tip then slowly licking his shaft. Benny closed his eyes as you deepthroat his cock in your mouth. He could cum at any moment. You know this. Could not take it anymore when you rub his balls. That is when he cums inside your mouth. Looking at you smiling, " I know you like that love. "

Think it is a good idea to get into the tub so he could hold you without pain. Helped him to the master bathroom. He gets inside the huge tub where he could stretch out in. Watching you while turning on the hot water. Put some menthol Crystals in the water. Sitting in front of him while the water helps his soreness. Leaning against him. Feel his hands roaming. Closing your eyes as he touches your body. He chuckles, " now it's my turn to take care of your love. ``That is what he did. Two of you spent a long time in the tub before the water got cold. Benny managed to get out of the tub on his own and both of you towelled off . Helped Benny to put on his pjs. Getting into bed while you go to fetch the homemade heating pad from the microwave. Puts it behind his aching body. Pulls him close to his chest as you relax. Benny mumbles, " thank you for taking care of me love. Think I need a few days to recover. Discover that I'm young anymore. Need to slow my workouts down a bit." You sigh," if you want. I'll stay home to take care of you. I'll just call the office and say I have to take care of my injured hubby." Benny kisses your forehead, " thank you love. Don't know about you, I'm tired." Both of you close your eyes. Drift of to dreamland.

[lansyuan]

do you love fics where wei wuxian and lan wangji parent the crap out of lan sizhui? do you want to read accidental baby acquisition fics until your eyes bleed? would you die as your heart slowly turns to mush from the softness of this family? bitch the fuck, me too. here are some of my personal favourite fics of wangxian ft their turnip son a-yuan. its a range of canon divergence, post canon, thirteen years of inquiry, raising a-yuan at the burial mounds au etc - there’ll be something for literally everyone. enjoy!

the kite string and the anchor rope by fleurdeliser (38k+)

When A-Yuan gets sick and Wen Qing doesn't have the supplies she needs to properly treat him, Wei Wuxian can only think of one place to go for help. 

a crying shame by thunderwear (16k+)

Lan Wangji gets emotionally blackmailed by a toddler. It somehow fixes everything.

to recollect and long for by wonderlands (22k+) *2/3 works posted at time of posting this rec list.

a 3-part series about best boy lan sizhui and his wonderful dads who love him and each other very much.

forgetting envies, remembering your loving hold by cosmicfuss (3k+)

The first time Zewu-jun plays for him he is five and the man is trying to comfort him, playing soft songs good for soothing children. It works to a degree but he wants his gege, he wants his gege to play his lullaby. Zewu-jun apologizes and tells him that his gege is hurting right now, and needs to be alone to get better.

When he plays the xiao, A-Yuan says, "you're holding it wrong!" When he turns fourteen, he learns to play guqin, and is many years ahead of his classmates in that regard. A large factor in that is how much he has practiced Inquiry. He has grown up hearing snippets from the jingshi, of Wangji attempting to reach a spirit that never answers.

When he's sixteen, he hears a familiar tune played in the forest, he and his fellow juniors battling a stone god. It's been years since he's heard it, and he wonders why this man, Mo Xuanyu, knows it so well.

Or, Lan Sizhui grows up and learns, and remembers.

five times wei wuxian tried to embarrass lan sizhui by blackelement7 (6k+)

(and one time he realized just how badly he'd played himself)

or: In which Wei Wuxian starts a fight but Lan Sizhui (with some meddling from Lan Jingyi) ends it.

inquiry by incendir (10k+)

Sizhui cannot fall asleep for a long, long time that night. He hears the ever-familiar melody again. He thinks perhaps he has memorized it by now.

storge by respira (9k+)

Lan Sizhui is a lake.

as the warren grows in number by kore_fics (3k+)

Before Sizhui could take another step he was surrounded by black and red, loud laughter in his ears and warm fingers running through his hair, messing it up. Palms squished both his cheeks together and Lan Sizhui let out a laugh.

Lan Sizhui was home.

tell some storm* by qurbat (31k+) *the moments with Sizhui are in chapter 2, however I highly recommend reading the whole fic, it’s adorable.

"We were raised as a generation of war, A-Yuan," Xian-gege said to him. "If your generation choses to be one of love - well, I don't think any of us would be opposed to that."

In the aftermath of the events at the Guanyin temple, the cultivation world scrambles to understand their current reality. A man roams the countryside with a string of white in his hair. Another sits on the highest seat of power with a ribbon of red around his forehead. The younger generation turns out to be full of romantics. Nie Huaisang is to blame for everything, always. Jiang Cheng realizes that happiness has been more that 16 years overdue.

Wei Wuxian declares that it's time that bitch pays up.

After a generation of war - much to the consternation of the elders, much to the delight of the young, much to the pleased shock of the subjects of the tale - the world welcomes a love story with open arms.

guess we're not eating leaves today by missingnarwhal (2k+)

Baby A-Yuan has cooked up a feast, but only one lucky gege will actually get to taste it!

Set in an alternate timeline where everything is okay after Wei Ying + Wens started living in the Burial Mounds.

response by aki_no_hikari (12k+)

What if Wei Wuxian hadn't been silent to Lan Wangji's Inquiry?

love, in all its small pieces by ynvel (4k+)

Ah Yuan is brought to the Cloud Recesses and exchanges the sun and its ashes for the clouds. Lan Wangji brings a boy home, calls him his son, and renews the promises he made.

Or: Lan Sizhui is adopted by Lan Wangji and learns about his new life. Lan Wangji in turn learns about hope and living again.

child surprise by ariaste (4k+)

He huffs a sigh. “Fine. Just - let’s just make it the law of surprise, shall we? That’s nice and simple, eh? Leave it up to destiny what will bring us back in balance. Let it drop something of yours into my lap, something small, and we’ll call the debt paid.”

Three debts, three repayments.

there's a lunatic in mo village by bastetcg (11k+)

There's a lunatic in Mo Village! And to Lan Sizhui's surprise, Hanguang-Jun has decided to bring the madman back to the Cloud Recesses! How embarrassing!

A mostly canon-compliant look into Lan Sizhui's thoughts and childhood.

on being a big boy by emberloey (1k+)

“My little A-Yuan,” Dad had said the next morning, kneeling down to A-Yuan’s height with a smile, “all grown up now. Soon you’ll be hunting without your poor old dads.”

“Never!” A-Yuan shook his head and latched onto Father’s leg. He smiled up at Father, who smiled back and nodded his head. “A-Yuan always needs Dad and Father!”

in all these shades of blue (i think we found you) by fleetling (5k+)

5 times Sizhui thought about his father's white robes, and 1 time Lan Wangji wore blue.

(Or: Lan Sizhui had never seen his father in anything other than white robes.)

this is when the feeling sinks in, i don't want to miss you like this (come back, be here) by mischievousmurmurs (6k+)

Just now… the butterflies’ conversation. Where did you learn that from, Ah-Yuan?

Ah-Yuan pats his chest. In here, shushu. I feel it in here. And in here, too, he adds, pointing to his head.

Sizhui has never quite been able to remember nor forget the memory of seeing people who he knows loved each other, loved him, and whom he loved in return.

or - a wangxian story, as told by their adopted son.

yours, mine, and ours by casecous (2k+)

When they have both mostly recovered, and A-Yuan is back to his smiling, playful self, Lan Wangji presents him with a forehead ribbon. A-Yuan’s little fingers bump into Lan Wangji’s thumbs as he traces the cloud motif along it.

“You are Lan now. This is very important,” Lan Wangji tells him and A-Yuan looks away from the ribbon to meet his eyes. “You must not take it off as you please. Only family may touch it.”

A series of wangxian family moments.

innocence by snowberryrose (8k+)

In which Wei WuXian gets to raise A-Yuan.

Canon divergence from episode 31.

to recollect and long for by mme_anxious (4k+)

Lan Xichen is there when his brother becomes a father. Lan Sizhui is there when his father's heart breaks, again. Wei Wuxian is there when his son gets drunk for the first time.

Or, the GusuLan forehead ribbon, in three parts.

our little one by writedeku (6k+)

A-Yuan is here. A-Yuan, who Wei Ying loved so much. A-Yuan, who was taught to laugh just like him. Wangji hugs him to his chest and curls over him, ignoring the way the wounds on his back pull and tear. “I have to take care of you,” he says. “I will not leave you.”

(Or: Lan Wangji comes back from Yiling with a child he does not know how to care for and a black hole in his chest. Somehow, he makes it work.)

gathered herbs & sweet grasses by hansbekhart (19k+)

Later, when he’s older, it’s this that A-Yuan will remember most: the stretch of silence, the two of them both dirty and shaking with fever, as he looked at Brother Rich, and Brother Rich looked back at him.

the sacred homeland by particulate (8k+)

He has many names, and some are mouthfuls of blood.

[Or; a chronology of Sizhui, in which he does not forget.]

to the act of making noise by words-writ-in-starlight (19k+)

His father in white plays the song late into the night, and when A-Yuan wakes up confused and afraid, the guqin lulls him back to sleep.

Lan Sizhui hears his father play the same song every night for his whole life, and never, ever get an answer.

when he comes home to you by kika988 (2k+)

Home is Cloud Recesses now, and that's a thing Wei Wuxian is still getting used to. He still feels like a guest here, most days, though Lan Wangji has done everything to make him feel at home. He stands out like a sore thumb amongst the serene disciples and flowing white fabric.

Cloud Recesses has been home to Lan Wangji and Sizhui for years. It is their home, where they've built their family.

The thought warms Wei Wuxian even as it sits a little ill with him. He's an intruder here, in their homes, in their lives, the same way he had been in Lotus Pier.

five times people didn’t know sizhui is lan zhan’s son and one time they did by trilliastra (3k+)

“A-Yuan.” He repeats, reaching out for the boy, growing restless when he can’t touch him. “A-Yuan.”

Oh. Lan Xichen closes his eyes as the tears start to fall. Oh, Wangji.

Carefully, Lan Xichen takes the boy and lays him next to his brother on the bed, Wangji holds him protectively against his chest and A-Yuan stops his little cries immediately.

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen tries again, running a hand through his brother’s hair softly, “who is he?”

“He’s my son.”

5 times the lan head disciple broke the rules by liji (6k+)

“I am not aware of any rule forbidding falling in love,” Hanguang-Jun said at last. There was a quiet sadness in his eye, like he was watching a scene from far away. The novelty of it gave Sizhui the courage to ask his next question.

“Have you ever been in love, Father?” he asked.

(or, five times that Sizhui broke the Lan sect's rules growing up)

the seasons change (but i love you the same) by kdkdkd (7k+)

"Hanguang-jun!"

When did you stop calling me Bàba, A-Yuan?

Lan Wangji had always promised himself that he would never become a poor father like his own had been.

Unfortunately, it feels like he has failed to keep that promise.

✨ bonus round ✨ uncle jiang cheng and nephew lan sizhui

tintinnabulum by respira (8k+)

A small bell chimes, the sound soft and pleasant like the water crashing against a pier, like low whistles in an empty cave, like a guqin playing a lullaby.

[ramp-it-up]

Communication

Pairing: Lin Manuel Miranda x Reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Minors DNI, Dom Lin, light bondage, explicit laguage, edging, oral sex (female receiving), love fluff, marriage. All errors my own.

A/N: This an ask from the 100 smut prompts ask list by @sebastianabucknettastan (pic credit as well) AND the following birthday request from @sillyteecup

Love You Tee! I hope it’s filthy enough and that you have a great day! ❤️

Lin was talking to a reporter when he saw you enter the venue.

He was instantly pissed the fuck off, but used his acting skills to play it off.  

There were so many things you needed to answer for.

First, you wore the dress he specifically told you not to wear. 

The gold one that set off your skin tone and that that fit perfectly before the baby, but after, with your slightly larger thighs, hips and breasts, fit like a glove.

A skin tight glove.

Next, you put your hair up, showing off your neck and your cleavage, which was pushed up by the special fuck me bra that you had on. The one you only wore for him at home.  

Then, you wore your 6-inch gold Jimmy Choos with the stiletto heels.  The ones that you only wore for him at home.

That is, after your fuck me bra had been thrown across the room.

What was worse was that he didn’t know any of this before he left the house because you were taking so long to get dressed that he had to leave without you.

When you joined him, you met his cold, hard glare before the acting took over and his face broke out in a smile.

Oh.  Lin was pissed, but he couldn’t let it show. He was the man of the hour. 

For the next 30 minutes, you two were gracious recipients of the most mundane conversation of everyone who wanted to talk to him.  

And you were especially charming, touching every man’s arm, and managing to play with every woman’s hair and smiling at all with that alluring grin that made them all practically drool into your cleavage.

As the night wore on, his smile slipped more and more.  Although you were at his side, which he made sure of, he couldn’t get close enough to say anything to you, which you made sure of.

He knew what this was about.  Lin had informed you that his next gig was halfway around the world and that you would either have to accompany him, or stay in New York while he had fun creating shit while you took care of your son. A single parent yet again.

Shit was getting old.  

Lin didn’t want to leave you, he wanted you to come with and he couldn’t understand your resistance, especially since your job was easily mobile and you had the means to go.  

But he was especially frustrated that you wouldn’t talk about it, you were just torturing him with this display of your sexy allure that he wanted to be just for him.  

Each time you gave someone else the benefit of your attention, yet pulled away from him, he got more and more determined to demonstrate the importance of effective communication to you.

When you were finally seated at the head table, Lin whispered as he drew closer to you. 

To everyone who was watching, and there were a lot of people watching, it looked like normal couple interaction. 

But in reality, it was a threat. 

"You keep acting like a little brat and I’ll take you over my knee right here. I don’t care how many people are watching.”

You finally turned the full wattage of your smile on him.  His heart stopped and he wanted to crawl under the table and lick from the soles of your feet up to your pussy.  

Damn, his wife was beautiful.

“Sir.” 

You said it to piss him off, not project submissiveness, but you could tell by his smirk what he wanted that word to mean. Well, fuck him.

“I’m not acting like a brat, I’m acting like the wife of a Very Important Man at a Very Important Event.”  

You leaned toward him and he was drawn to you, but still pissed.

“If you don’t settle down, I’ll make you.”

You turned and looked him fully in the eye.  

“I’m not scared of you. What are you gonna do? Write the fuck out of a story about me?”

The raised eyebrow and disrespect was the final straw. The emcee was about to introduce him.

Lin leaned even closer.

“I got something better than a spanking. When we get home, I’m cuffing you to the bed and I’m going down on you all night until my jaw is sore.  And if you straighten up now, I might let you cum.”

Your mouth dropped open as the emcee finished introducing him and Lin rose and went to the podium.

You recovered quickly and looked around to see if anyone noticed and then put on your neutral face.

————-

After his speech, it was like nothing happened. And you miraculously found some act right.  

For the remainder of the night, Lin was charming to everyone, even you.  

You even danced and he held you close, caressing your side and seamlessly catching your rhythm.

It was like you dreamed what he’d said, because he even kissed your hand before he led you to the car, and you even leaned your head on his shoulder and fell asleep on the way home. 

It turned out to be a pretty nice night.

You got home and paid the babysitter and ordered her an Uber. Lin watched her get in the car while you went to check on the baby.  

He was so freakin cute and you stayed to watch him sleep a bit, never getting enough of his big fat cheeks.

When you went into the bedroom, Lin was nowhere to be found, coming out of the walk-in closet as you closed the door.

“Hey, come here.”  

His smile was his signature mix of angelic and devilish, and you were sure of what he wanted.  

You were glad he seemed to forget the earlier difficulty and you glady went toward him.  

Maybe you would give him some tonight and you could talk about the issue in the morning.

Lin put his hands on your shoulders.

“You look. Incredible tonight.”  His hands moved down your arms and moved to clasp your fingers.

"You want me to make you come?"

"Yes." You started unbuckling his belt. 

Lin pulled away from you. His eyes glinted, hard and cold.

"You want it?" He moved to sit on the bed.  He patted the duvet beside him. “Come.”

You came and sat beside him, anticipation making you shiver. Lin leaned over to you, his lips oh so close, and watched as you closed your eyes. 

He gave you a quick kiss on your lips and pulled you onto the bed with him.

His mouth laid ravage to yours and just as your senses went wild, he moved to pull your dress up. He stopped and smiled.  

You were only wearing the fuck me bra and no panties.

“You do wanna get fucked I see. How convenient.”

You just smiled back at him and clenched your thighs together. 

Him still being in his tux making you very wet.

Lin’s dark beauty was making you weak.

Lin continued to pull your dress over your arms, and you raised them to make it easier.  But somehow, the dress stopped over your eyes. 

You smiled before you panicked, thinking Lin was playing some cute little game.

You panicked when you realized the game wasn’t cute.

You realized the game wasn’t cute when you felt the cuffs go around your wrists and onto the bars of the bed.

“Lin?” 

You could only see his outline moving around as you struggled and tested the cuffs.

“This isn’t funny Lin!”  You were panicking.

“No. It’s not. But I told you what was going to happen.”

“What?”

Lin took your legs and spread them apart, you pulled them back together.  He slapped your thigh and pulled them apart again.

“Leave them open or I’ll get the spreader bar.”

Lin watched your lip tremble as kept your legs open, while also watching your slick drip down your folds. 

He smiled and leaned over, mouth near your ear.

“I’m going to keep my promise.”  You visibly trembled.  

“Do you want to watch, or not?  Your choice.”  

Lin’s hands were on your thighs now, slowly, too slowly moving up toward your apex. He stopped, thumbs about two inches away from your slit, and asked again.

“Well?”

You whimpered, wanting some kind of contact. Something to give you relief.

“I wanna see you Baby.  I wanna see you make me cum.”

You were trying it, and Lin shifted, lifting your dress and propping your head up with it as he shook his head at you.

“IF I make you cum.”

Lin returned to the exact position he was in, with this thumbs exactly two inches away from where you needed them to be.

“I need your words.  What’s your greenlight word?” 

Lin moved his hands a quarter of an inch closer and you tried not to move.  

“Banquo.” 

“Good girl. What about when you need to stop?”

You were getting anxious.  Safe word play was intense.

“Macduff.”

“Good girl. Where are we at now?” 

Lin was sliding his thumbs closer to your dripping heat. He was right there and you practically screeched, “Banquo, Banquo.”

“Gooooood girl.”  

Lin finished sliding both thumbs into you, circling and sliding them up and down your slit, bumping and teasing your clit, making you jump and whimper every time.  

He separated his hands and put one thumb on your puckered hole and one thumb in your pussy, rotating them, fucking one hole and teasing the other.

“After I eat you out, I should take your ass. Make you squirt all over the bed. But that would involve you cuming.  And I don’t know….”

“Fuckkkkk, Lin! I want you to feel how wet I am for you. C’mon. Please?”

“Keep begging.”

Your pussy fluttered around his hands and he slowly withdrew them, trailing your wetness down your thighs. 

He was edging you like you had all night. 

And he did. 

He sat back and watched you squirm, a soft smile on his lips.  He took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. He stared between your legs as he rolled up his sleeves. 

His fucking forearms were driving you crazy. Shit, you should not have been such a bitch.

“Damn, I would take a picture, but I have a specific purpose tonight. And I already have several in my collection.”

Lin was obsessed with your pussy. Absolutely obsessed.  It was his precious.  

He leaned in, his dark head obstructing your view as he oh so slowly licked a long stripe from your ass to your clit. You craned your neck to see him go to work.

“Unnnnnnnhhhhh.”  

You tried to capture his tongue with some kind of impossible pussy trick, but Lin held you fast to the bed.

He chuckled into your folds, and shook his head.  

“You’re hilarious.”  

Then, he opened his mouth wide and stuck his talented tongue as far in your pussy that it could go, his top lip capturing your clit.  

He reached up and grabbed your heaving breasts, squeezing them and rolling your perky erect nipples.

Lin was chowing down.  He fucked you with his tongue until you were about to come again, but stopped.  You groaned, and Lin was glad he’d soundproofed your bedroom.

“Lin. I’m sorry.  Let me cum, please. Please? This pussy is yours. See how you got me? Please. I don't care what you do to me. I want you to make me feel good. Only you can Lin."

He loved your begging and pleading.  He put his face in your place again, this time sucking and manipulating your clit until your legs started shaking violently. 

Your curses and moans only make him lick you faster.

Lin pushed your legs back apart and inserted a  finger inside you, expertly curling it, inexplicably telling you to come hither from inside your vaigna.

“NOW you want to communicate? Should have thought of that earlier.”

"Lin, its...." you breathed.

"Tell me."

Lin ordered, as he stopped what he was doing and wiped his face.

You were panting now,devastated by the loss of your orgasm, and coherent thought completely gone from your mind.

Lin reached out and rubbed your clit again. He leaned over and drew it between his lips, sucking it and making you see stars this time. 

All of a sudden, he stopped sucking and gently, very gently, slapped it. Then, he inserted two fingers from behind while he slapped your clit. It was very intense.

You yelped loudly and had to open your mouth in order to breathe. Your heart was beating so fast.

"Fuck! This pussy is so pretty.”

He started alternately lightly slapping and licking your clit this time. And he stopped every so often to let you come back from the brink. 

Each time he would stop, you would moan louder and louder. The first time he stopped his shirt came off, the third, his pants.

"Lin! I'm going crazy!" 

"But you taste and feel and look so fucking good. I don't know if I ever want to leave where I am right now." 

Lin had stopped and started stroking himself.

“Except…”

You watched him stroke and had to close your eyes. 

Lin shifted and started stroking his tip at your entrance. You were panting so hard you could hardly breathe.

You wiggled your hips and Lin stopped all movement, causing you to whine and pull on the cuffs, causing your breasts to jiggle.

He leaned over, pulled your breasts from the cups of the lace cups, and captured one in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your nipple then biting down on it.

You were so overstimulated that this new sensation almost sent you over the edge. Yet again.

You were losing hope of getting satisfaction and started keening. 

“Lin! Pleaseeee!”

This time the desperation in your voice triggered mercy. 

And the way you were coming apart for him triggered his lust.

He continued to suck both nipples brutally until you were arching off the bed, and when he slapped your clit again, plunging two fingers inside you that curled to your spot, you came, hard, squirting all over him and the bed.

“Yes, give me all you got. Such a good girl.”

You trembled as he slid inside, and your body came alive again as he slipped in and out of you. 

You could feel every ridge and vein on his huge, hard cock as he lit you up from the inside out. 

You gripped him so good, despite the wetness, that he had to concentrate.

Lin moaned and kissed your pulse point as he felt your walls clench around him.

“So fucking good…so tight and wet… fuck.”

You struggled to catch your breath and Lin leaned up to lift up your ass, pulling your pelvis up to meet him on his knees.

“You feel so good. Make me want to come so bad baby. Take this dick.”

He stroked and stroked until he felt you quivering again.

“Do you like how that feels? Do you like how I’m fucking you?”

“FUCK! Yes Lin. Oh fuck yes. I love it. I want it all.”

“Pussy. Feels… so fucking… goooood.”

His thumb found your clit again. The pleasure built up in your body, your eyes rolled back into your head, and it was game over.

Lin came as you screamed and milked his cock dry. 

It was perfect.

Next thing you knew, Lin was unlocking the cuffs, sitting you up and massaging your shoulders. He led you into the bathroom where the whirlpool tub was halfway full.

You hadn’t realized that you were out for a few minutes.

Lin put your hair up while the tub kept filling.

You climbed into the tub, and Lin climbed in behind you, gathering you in his arms.

You relaxed as he took care of you, his hands soothing your exhausted body.

You floated off to sleep in the warm water surrounded by Lin, the brat in you tamed. 

For the moment.

——

Tagging: @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @ohsoverykeri @curtainremote @delaber @honeysucklechocolatedrippin

[redriotdynamite]

Happier ~ Bakugou X Reader

TRIGGER WARNING:

ANGST

DEPRESSION

BREAKUP

SAD

HEARTBREAK

FIGHTING

I wrote this last night as I listened to Happier by Olivia Rodrigo. I'm not sure if I'm happy with how I ended this as I was high on ambien lol but yeah it is what it is. enjoy! ~ Brooke

We broke up a month ago, your friends aren’t mine, you know, I know you’ve moved on, Found someone new

One month. The longest month I had ever lived through. It was pure agony. Watching you walk through the halls at school, joking to your friends, acting like you could care less. I mean what did I expect from the school's biggest asshole. But you weren’t one to me, were you? You were sweet and loving. I don’t understand how you could just turn that off. That’s what hurts the most right now. I pull myself together every morning hoping its easier but it never is. This pity, anger and sadness is ripping through my heart leaving a softball sized hole in its wake. And I’m worried that I'll never be able to fix it.

One more girl who brings out the better in you, and I thought my heart was attached, for all the sunlight of our past, but she’s so sweet, she’s so pretty, does she mean you forgot about me?

I was standing by my locker the first time I saw her and you. You were walking my way, arm wrapped around her shoulders. My eyes met yours for a moment before you smirked. The same smirk you used to give me when you were teasing me. But this time there was this look in your eye that I couldn’t place. It only lasted for a second before you looked away and that’s when I saw her. Blonde hair, long legs, big brown eyes that could take your breath away...they did mine. She was gorgeous. Camie is her name, right? It makes sense. She smiles brightly at me as if she doesn’t know that I used to stand where she stood. I’m not sure who I feel worse for, me or her. Will you do to her what you did to me?

Oh, I hope you’re happy but not like how you were with me, I’m selfish, I know, I can’t let you go, so find someone great but don’t find no one better, I hope your happy but don’t be happier

Was it wrong of me to stare? To wish that I was her? It made it worse knowing how it felt to feel your lips against mine, how you would always grip my hand when the school halls got full. That’s what eats me alive inside. It hurts so bad that I feel like I won't recover. How am I supposed to let you go? Do you even think of me at all anymore? Do you see me when you glance at me in the halls? Or do I blend in with the nameless faces that you don’t care to learn? I want to scream, yell at you. Demand why. Why did you do this to us? What did I do? And now here you are a month later with someone new. Are you doing it to hurt me? Or is she just another toy to you?

And do you tell her she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen? An eternal love bullshit you know you’ll never mean, remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me? And now I’m picking her apart, like cutting her down make you miss my wretched heart. But she’s beautiful, she looks kind, she probably gives you butterflies.

I saw you two today. School had let out early due to practical exams. I was headed to my favorite book shop when I saw you both sitting at a table at the café next door. Your hair was ruffling through the breeze and I swear I could smell your cologne. I miss that. How it used to engulf me and make me feel safe. You would wrap your arms around me and I was home. You had the same smug and irritated look on your face that you always have. I could tell you were talking; I think she wanted to show you something. She pulled her bag from her lap to take something out but suddenly a coffee cup was knocked over, spilling coffee everywhere. I was expecting you to freak out, get mad, scream and call her a dumb ass like you used to do when I would mess up. But you didn’t. You smiled at her and reassured her it was okay, while helping her clean it up. After, I guess the mood had shifted. I could tell she was still upset. She stood up after a few minutes to get a refill but she was stopped when you pulled her down into your lap and poked at her cheeks. You whispered something in her ear that made her smile. I turned away when I saw you tickle her sides and laugh along when she giggled. That was the worst, because I knew in that moment that this wasn’t for show. This was real for you and her. I'd never forget us and what we had but I could let you go be happy. That's all I ever wanted for you.

I hope you’re happy, but not like how you were with me. I’m selfish, I know, I can’t let you go. So, find someone great but don’t find no one better. I hope you’re happy, I wish you all the best, really. Say you love her, baby, just not like how you loved me. And think of me fondly when your hands are on her. I hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier

I’m trying hard to keep my distance from you. She doesn’t deserve it and I know you probably don’t want me around. I can’t help it. I'm drawn to you. But I know I have to let you go. You need to be happy, to live and be free. So just promise me that you’ll think of me. That’ll you remember how we laughed so much that one night our sides were sore the next day. Remember our first kiss under the stars in the park, how it felt, how you said my lips tasted like strawberries. Don’t forget that. It keeps our love and what we had alive. Knowing that is the only way I'll ever be able to get through this. The only way I'll ever be able to let you go. Maybe in time it’ll get easier. Maybe I could see you and smile one day, remembering what we had and maybe it won’t hurt. It’ll feel bitter sweet. Because I'll know that I helped you find who you were meant to be with.

I hope you’re happy, just not like how you were with me. I’m selfish, I know, can’t let you go. So, find someone great, don’t find no one better. I hope you’re happy, but don’t be happier

[fabricated-misslieness]

Yoru x male reader

Got this idea from a tiktok. btw I have no idea if blunt force can cause a split lip.

Pre-VALORANT Protocol and Kingdom creation, a short time after First Light. This entire thing is a lot of headcanons

Requested: No

Word Count: 2,305

Warnings: making out, cat cockblocking cause she wants food, sparring, split lip, blood, a bit of sadomasochism, bottom & masochist Yoru, sadistic reader, very very suggestive

16+

His lungs were begging for air, his knees were close to giving in, his skin felt like it was burning, his arms were sore. It was no matter of time before he was on the ground again, your foot on his chest. He was starting to like this point of view.

Though he doesn’t get to cherish it much longer because you’re off of him quickly.

“You don’t block properly.” You state, wiping the sweat off your face with the bottom of your shirt. Yoru, despite all his exhaustion, wolf whistles as he stares at your exposed skin. You ignore him, seeing as this one was on you, unlike all the previous ones. “No offense-only can win in my arena.”

“Manly Jackie?” He suggests. Manly Jackie was once a participant of your arena. As most champions with awful alliances, his reign did not last long.

“He was once a champion, yes, but he was beaten by somebody with good balance. Coerce had both good and offensive qualities. Jackie ate shit that match.” You chuckle at the memory.

Yoru shrugs, standing up. Pain sears on his skin when he gets back on his feet, but he ignores it. If he wants to be in your arena, he has to be ‘eligible’. And boy, did he not meet your conditions. “Another round.”

You had to give it to him, he had courage. After all, he’d asked the boss of an arena to train him by sparring. But the courage blinded him; either that, or he just pushed right through the pain.

That ‘First Light’ event had given him a lot more courage than he already had. He had gotten powers from it, and he figured they’d be useful in battle. 

You see, Yoru had a lot of connections. He was the guy on the block that always got into trouble, yet he always managed to weasel out of it thanks to his connections. Though most of the trouble was caused by his connections, because that meant that his connections; enemies were his enemies. He was stuck in a loop, getting beat up by his connections’ enemies, then saved by his connections.

That was why he came to you. He wanted to get skills in fighting, not only to avoid his own demise from his connections’ enemies, but also to gain money. Your champions got rewards, and he was running a little low on funds.

It had been a while since the First Light happened, which gave you the right amount of time to decide whether to invite these new ‘superpowered’ people into your arena. You’d decided on yes, but these new people had to meet the conditions that the normal fighters did, skill and muscle.

He had some muscle, along with potential, but you wouldn't admit that; a big ego isn't a good trait for a beginner to have, even though he already had one.

You raise an eyebrow, “Tenth time I knock you off your feet, yet you’re still getting back up. I can tell you’re tired, Yoru.” He loved it when you said his given name, although it was the only one he gave to you. “This time you might just last 5 minutes.” 

“I’m fine with lasting 5 minutes.” He winks.

“Sorta pathetic if you do,” You look him up and down and see him shrink under your gaze. “both ways.” Yoru smirks. He likes when you flirt back, though he can’t tell if you mean it. 

“Sure you don’t just want to sit down for a while?” You gesture to the couch at the back of the room.

“I’m sure.”

Your living room was more of a gym than anything. Being the boss meant you got a steady income; you had a big apartment. You had a couch, yes, but anything else that’s part of a lounging area was nonexistent. Although, the room didn’t look quite good, with the couch standing out amongst the gym equipment and the kitchen having barely enough working space.

When Yoru first saw it, he questioned it. As the boss, he expected you to have many visits from ‘business partners’ of sorts. He’d assumed you did them in your own home, rather than anywhere else, which is dumb on his end.

"I don't get many visits.” You’d replied, after clearing up the business meeting part.

"I highly doubt that. With the way you look, I figured you got plenty of feminine visitors." He might just have killed his chances with you.

"Feminine, perhaps." Feminine submissive men, that is. He didn't know that, and you didn't feel like coming out to an acquaintance of yours. "But not all that often. Besides, they don’t stay for long.”

You regretted entertaining his perverted head, since that had sparked many more pick up lines from him. At least you believed it did, you didn’t know if he would’ve otherwise.

Yoru barely manages to dodge your punch, though before he can recover, you take his momentary vulnerability to strike again. He doesn’t have the reflexes to react. The air is knocked out of his lungs, and he doubles over in pain, yet he doesn’t tap out. You expect him to, which is why you don’t punch him again, but it gives him a moment to get back at you.

He punches your stomach, but at this point he’s so weak and exhausted that it barely hurts. You’re not one to take pity though. Over the years, you’d learned that mercy did not make good business in an underground job.

This blow is hard, then again all of them are hard, though this one seemed to do something different.

That something is knocking him out.

When he regains consciousness, he's laying down on your couch. You're on the other side of the room, leaning against your kitchen counter and rewrapping your knuckles.

"How long was I out?" He asks immediately, only to find that his jaw aches when he speaks.

"A few minutes." You reply, you don’t look up at him, nor do you seem surprised that he’d woken up. “A bit uncommon, though you’re only a rookie. In a few months, you’ll eat that kind of blow like it was any other.”

"You have no technique, your punches are too obvious, your blocks are easy to break, and you don't know your limits." You list off his weaknesses. “Don’t let that ego of yours get to your head.” They felt more like insults than constructive criticism.

Yoru huffs in frustration, though mentally taking note of them. Thanks to his arrogance, he thought he’d be a natural. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked the boss after all. He licks his lips as he thinks, it’s only then that he finds his bottom one is split. "Hey, (y/n)?" You look at him, he points towards his lips. "A little help?"

You sigh but gesture him to come to you. You take note of how his walk is a little eager as he walks to sit on the stool next to you.

You take his chin in your hand to tilt it up and inspect his lip, though you have no problem with diagnosing the problem. "Split lip."

"You know, I heard that you need to apply pleasure to a bleeding lip to fix it." His tone suggests he's not going to do it himself, as well as something else you definitely catch yet you ignore. He most certainly wasn't saying it innocently, instead, it was quite flirtatious.

"And what are you suggesting?" You can't help but flirt back. He's handsome, which is part of his charm, but you can't say you didn't enjoy beating up his pretty little face earlier; and not in the 'putting someone cocky down' kinda way.

“Put some kinda pressure on my lips.” Yoru elaborates.

You can’t help but laugh a little, “Okay, let me just get a rag.” You move away from him, but Yoru tugs you back, putting a hand on the back of your neck. Before you can say anything else, he kisses you. He's impatient and it's clear, he couldn’t stand you playing around anymore.

The blood from his busted lip would be discouraging, if you weren't lowkey sadistic. On the other hand, Yoru feels pain with every move of your lips against his own. He seems to like it though. He's had his fair share of hook ups, but never had pain been a part of them. It was new and thrilling to feel a sting of both pain and pleasure.

You, with all the experience you have, bite his bottom lip to ask for permission to deepen the kiss, forgetting Yoru's situation. You pull back, fully expecting a whine and complaint, but you find a moan instead. You'd never expected to find a masochist to your sadist, least of all him, but you took the opportunity.

"You liked that?" You chuckle. “Pain?”

"Oh, shut up." Yoru groans. He doesn't like to be on the receiving end of teasing, which is an unlikely pair to his masochism. “But, yes.”

You laugh again, only to take his lips moments after. You're heated in lip lock when you decide you're tired of this position, leaning down is a little tiring. With seemingly no effort at all, you lift him up. Yoru wraps his legs around your waist instinctively, pulling back from your kiss with a gasp. "Hey!" He whines, only to be interrupted by a moan when your hands dig into his ass.

"Now where do you want to go?" You give him a flirtatious smile. "Bedroom, traditional but I can't blame you; couch, more comfortable for the both of us; or counter? High chance of getting bent over." Your words send a shiver down his spine. 

He liked this new, flirtatious you. Before, you were a mere connection which he’d gotten from running errands for you every now and then. They were mundane tasks, and as boss, you had to keep your intimidating, serious composure. Naturally, it made him want to crack you, see who you were when nobody was looking at you. Obviously, your personality was not flirting, although at least it wasn’t the aforementioned. Hopefully he’d find out more the next morning.

"Counter." Yoru mutters. He hopes to god that you don't make him repeat himself with the fake excuse that you hadn't heard him.

Thankfully, you don't, instead bringing him to sit on top of the counter. Your hands are no longer on his ass, something he disliked, but he can't really blame you for it. He starts kissing you again, hungry and yearning. His fingers tug at your hair restlessly, legs still around your waist pulling you closer to him.

He wants more, and you’ll gladly give it to him.

You bite his bottom lip again, making him open his mouth with a gasp. You take advantage of the moment, sliding your tongue in his mouth. Your hands slip under his shirt, caressing his skin absentmindedly. The rough feeling of your hand wrap contrasts against your soft yet calloused fingers, yet it felt good all the same. Yoru finds your touch leaving a burning feeling, suddenly finding himself hot and bothered.

He pulls back, much to your mutual dismay. Before you can ask, he takes off his shirt, clearing your confusion. “Oh.”

Yoru laughs, “Oh.” He mocks you.

You tsk, silencing him with your lips before he can tease you further. Yoru’s disappointed by the fact you don’t play with his chest anymore, seeing as he discarded of his shirt for that purpose. He takes your hands and slides them up his abdomen, leaving you to figure out the rest. He’s disappointed when you pull back just to laugh.

“That eager, huh?” Yoru, instead of avoiding your gaze like other people would, looks you head on with a look that says ‘so what?’. It makes you laugh again, “Alright, alright.”

You peck him on the lips, which confuses him a little, until you pepper kisses down to his neck. He groans as you do, hands trailing up to your hair and tugging your head further down. “Jeez.” You mutter, but continue anyway. Meanwhile, your hands trail up to his nipples and play with them. Once again, your hand wraps cause different textures and feelings.

You kiss and bite at his neck, leaving marks. Some of them are stained with blood, though that comes from kissing his cut lips.

Before you can continue doing anything else, though, you hear a meow. Both of you stop and  turn to look down, seeing your cat looking up at you two. Immediately, the mood dies down, because you can’t just make out in front of your floofy child.

Yoru unwraps his legs from your waist, allowing you to bend down and reach out to pet her. Instead of accepting the pets, she reaches out to swat you with her claws. Unfortunately, you don’t react quick enough, even with those reflexes of yours. You hiss, clutching your hand. Yoru laughs while you give him side eye with a huff, “It’s her dinner time.”

You move towards the cabinets, where you keep her food. He watches you as you prepare it from the counter. 

For a moment, you sit in silence, but he doesn’t like that. "If you can't make fun of me 5 seconds after making out with me, who even are you?"

You chuckle and comply. "You know, if you had chosen the bedroom, the cat wouldn't have bothered us." You think it over for a few seconds. "Well, she would've, but the sound of her slashing at my door would've been drowned out by the bed creaking."

Yoru flushes red, even though he’d actually asked you to tease him. “Then let’s go there afterwards.”

You shrug, “It depends on if you get me in the mood again.”

[boxofbadaddiction]

Careless

Fred Weasley x Reader

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Prompts: 13, 19 & 23

"I'm so happy and not at all jealous."/"We had a deep and meaningful relationship/What was their last name?"/"I thought it mattered what I said or when I said it. Then I realised, all that matters is that you make me happier than I ever thought I could be."

Warnings: Swearing. War Scene - blood & injury. Angsty.

Y/n was trouble with a capital T. She was daring, confident, snarky and a massive Quidditch fan. In other words; she were Fred Weasleys perfect woman.

But it's not what you think, they were just friends. Chaotic, hell raising, perfect-for-each-other friends.

With the Twins and y/n around Hogwarts it were remarkable the Castle were still standing. But not for their lack of trying. After an especially careless prank, which left the Gryffindor Common Room with a new window, it's safe to say the threesome were there for one another through thick and thin.

Pranks however, weren't the only area in which Y/n, and Fred for that matter, were careless.

Both had the tendency to be rather frivolous in romantic relationships. It seemed like every other week the pair had a new partner on their arm. George liked to joke that, of all the people left in their age group, the only people they hadn't 'had a round' with were each other. The rumours, jokes or insults to character never bothered them though. They were young and weren't looking for anything serious - so what's the harm in having a little fun? That was y/ns reasoning anyway. It had been Freds as well...in the beginning. Until he were struck with a rather bracing realisation.

The reason why he rushed so fast into new relationships without a care wasn't so much 'for the fun of it' or genuine interest in the other, but denial. He were running and burying his head in the sand, or rather the bedsheets - as it were, to distract himself from the very chilling reality that he was desperately, hopelessly and unequivocally in love with his best friend. With y/n.

So after that particularly bitter pill to swallow, Fred's relations became a means to an end. A means of getting over her. Of finding someone to replace her.

It never worked, of course, because no other girl was her. No one made him laugh or smile like her. Nor did anyone get his heart racing like she did.

He did everything he could to bury his feelings; under piles of work, copious amounts of alcohol and an abundance of meaningless sex, and it genuinely seemed to be working...until the War came.

That walk into the Great Hall after the initial Battle is one Fred would never forget.

The smell; of death and destruction. The way his body ached and longed to rest.

Slowly limping through the destroyed arched doorway, accompanied by Percy - who's shoulders he'd drapped an arm across seeking support. They were talking with one another, throwing around light-hearted brotherly insults here and there, which helped keep Freds mind off the immense pain surging through his leg at the time, small smiles adorning their faces.

That's when they heard it.

A blood curdling scream. One of pure agony.

Their eyes shot directly to the source, on the far side of the room - where all the Weasleys were gathered around a body. A girls.

Arthur was holding tight onto Molly as she sobbed uncontrollably. Ron stood on the outskirts pale and afraid, while Bill and Charlie had a hold of Ginny in attempt to shield her. Fred's gaze flickered to where he saw George had knelt beside the body.

He was gripping one of her hands as his other tried desperately to keep her still on the floor while she writhed and cried out in pain.

She were covered in blood as Madam Pomfrey worked frantically to mend the severe wounds in her abdomen, where shards of debris protruded from her flesh.

The cry had been caused from the extraction of a particularly large shard, of what Fred didn't know.

George was running a tender hand over y/ns head, gently stroking her hair and the sides of her face as he whispered soothing sounds and comforting words in her ear.

Fred didn't know how long he'd stood there, staring in shock, he'd felt petrified - numb to everything but the fear coursing through his veins. Till suddenly his feet were moving.

A first painful step, which nearly crippled him, was followed by an equally sore but determined second. Then a third, and before he knew it he was running. Sprinting as fast as he could regardless of the pain it inflicted, nothing could stop him from reaching her side.

Barging past friends and family members he collapsed on Georges otherside. Eyes raking the ever paling and blood covered woman laid before him. George was shaking as he looked to his brother with tear-filled eyes but Freds stare was unwavering.

Somehow mustering the strength he spoke the only words playing through his mind, "What can I do?" His eyes never left y/ns wound, above which Pomfreys hands hovered as she worked.

"Fred?" Y/n cried through deep breaths, her head turning to the side in an attempt to see him. "I'm here, Sweetheart." He placed a hand to her knee. Her eyes were screwed tight shut as she threw her head back against the hard, cold floor. Tears parted tracks through the thick dust and muck plastered to her cheeks as she clenched her jaw inhaling sharply as the next piece of debris was removed - a relatively small piece in comparison to the earlier one. George continued to soothe his friend as Pomfrey instructed Fred on what to do.

They wished everything had gotten better from there. That after they successfully removed all the debris and stopped the blood from further pouring from her body that she'd been able to recover simply. But news only seemed to get worse once they reached St Mungo's.

She'd fallen into a coma. Y/n had suffered severe internal injuries and the Healers never held out much hope that she'd survive.

Y/n always was full of surprises.

She'd come out of her coma and began showing signs she could yet make a recovery. No one could have possibly anticipated the day healers would begin talk of rehab. They considered it a miracle she were even breathing.

Naturally the Twins were there every step of the way. Especially Fred. There were whole nights, even before she'd regained consciousness, where he'd spend every minute by her bedside. Nights he'd spend working tirelessly in the shops office to perfect ideas they'd concocted to help ease and enhance y/ns physical therapy. Inventions that worked so well Healers from all over were lining up to get their hands on, after seeing how successful y/ns recovery were as a direct result of their products. Hell, most days you couldn't even tell she'd been through a war - her scars the only physical reminder, to the untrained eye.

There were no doubt left in Freds body after that. He loved her with every part of his soul and that was never going to change, and so his involvement in the dating scene became virtually non-existent.

Y/ns on the other hand...well some things don’t change.

She was given a second chance and wasn't about to waste it worrying about what 'could' have happened. Life were too short for that. She did, however, start keeping an eye out for 'Mr/Mrs Right' during her rendezvous'.

Fred tried his hardest to be supportive. Opting rather to love her from the sidelines than risk hurting their relationship by getting his hands dirty and playing the game. After Y/ns most recent conquest however his happy facade may officially be waning.

It was just past sunset in Diagon Alley and so Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, much like all the other stores, were going through their nightly closing routine.

Fred was working through the registers whilst, much to his dismay, George were left to the Twins least favourite chore - cleaning and restocking the store.

That's when the front door burst open.

"Evening, Boys!" Y/n announced happily as she strode into the store. "Fred! I told you to lock the door, lest the riff-raff barge in!" George called jokingly over the railing of the second floor. Fred couldn't help but smile, not looking up from the task at hand "My mistake!". Y/n scowled up at George as she hopped onto the front desk, "Like that could keep me out." Leaning over the counter top she placed a kiss to Freds cheek, "Heya Freddie". He looked to her, instantly finding himself on cloud nine, and leant casually onto the counter to speak with her. "Hey, Lovely. How was your day?" "Oh, I am so glad you asked!" Y/n said beaming as she clapped her palms against her knees, kicking one leg atop the other. "It was fantastic!" "Do tell." George spoke, decending the stair case, "What's 'fantastic's name?" He goaded.

Y/n glared at him playfully, "Think you have me all worked out do you?" "You know we do." Fred interjects. "Can read you like a book, Darling. You've got not secrets from us"

"Especially after our little incident during rehab, when I had to help you in the shower." George added with a teasing brow, this causing y/n to scrunch her nose. "Okay, George, that's talking about it when we agreed never to talk about it!" The Twins laughed at her embarrassed expression. "Anyway, 'fantastic's name is Mason."

Fred swallowed thickly at the news of, yet another, romantic partner but still he suppressed his distaste as he normally would.

The next 30 minutes or so were spent listening to y/ns retelling of how she met, Mason. About how great they made her feel. Fred couldn't help but envy the way the mere thought of them had y/n biting her lip in attempt to suppress a giddy smile. He'd give anything for her to look that way while thinking about him.

Fred had been quiet through most of the conversation, untrusting of his own voice not to give away his utter disdain at the news. Still he smiled when he should and convincingly feigned interested as she spoke. It wasn't until she began talking about her date, tonight, with them that he finally spared himself the heartache and stopped listening.

Later that evening, Fred was trying hard to keep himself occupied with thoughts on anything but the date the love of his life currently found herself on. As George and he just finished their own meal he'd taken to determinately cleaning the dishes piled within their sink - whilst George dried, a small habit the two fell into thanks to years of Molly putting the pair on dish duty after meals.

Unknowingly to Fred, he'd been uncharacteristically quiet for the whole evening. Something his brother had not failed to notice. "So..." he began breaking the long running silence of the night, "y/n seems pretty bent on this new bloke doesn't she?" "Mmm" "Never know this one may even last" George let out a breathy laugh as he prodded Fred's shoulder with his elbow, watching carefully for his reaction.

George wasn't stupid. He knew exactly how Fred felt, well before the night of the battle.

Fred's eyebrows quirked, lips parting as he clicked his jaw, visibly unsettled by his Twins topic of discussion.

"You okay, Freddie?" "Yeah. No, they sound great. Absolutely perfect. He's bloody 'Mr Fantastic'" His voice was laced with attitude and sarcasm as he spoke.

Finishing washing the final glass Fred throws the dish sponge against the back wall of the sink harder than intended in his frustration. "Easy there mate, get you're not happy but don't take your jealousy out on the poor bloody sponge" George picks it up from where it'd landed, mockingly shielding it from his brother with an overly concerned expression. "What are you on about?" Fred sneered defensively, "I'm so happy and not at all jealous."

"Sure you are" George replied with a look which read 'really?' "Yeah no, I get it. I'd be fine too if the girl I fancied was out on a date with some other bloke." He shrugged nonchalantly as he walked back to the living room, lounging comfortably across their sofa.

Fred looked to his brother as if he'd grown another head. "Don't give me that look. We both know I know." George rolled his eyes. "Well then tell me, oh wise and all-knowing Brother" Fred bowed mockingly, "what would you do in my situation?" He walked over with an expectant brow, perching himself of the sofas opposite arm rest.

"Oh, I dunno...maybe confess to the poor girl." "You say that like it's the simplest thing in the world." "It is, Freddie." "No. No it's not, whatever this is it's not simple." "It won't get any easier if you don't try. Here look I'll help you" George sat up eagerly, leaning against the back of the couch. "You be you, I'll be- don't give me that look. I'll be y/n. Tell me what you'd say to her." "This is stupid" Fred rolled his eyes. "Don't be a prat, just...go. I won't judge." "Right, cause that sounds like you." "Fred-" George warned. "Fiiiine!" He groaned which only caused his brother to smile cockily, satisfied he finally got what he wants.

Fred looked at his brother who flicked his hair and batted his eyelashes dramatically. There's no way he can do this looking at him. Rolling his eyes again he looked away with a scoff, contemplating all the things he'd say to y/n if he had the courage to.

"Well?..." "I don't know. I don't know what'd I'd say to her or where to start, I've never thought about it." "Maybe it's time you start thinking about it Freddie." George clapped him on the leg as he stood from his place on the couch.

He were half way to his bedroom before stopping, having just faintly heard the words whispered after him...

"I love her, Georgie." George smiles sadly to himself, only just turning his head he murmurs a reply. "Tell her that."

---

The store was closed for the day and Fred had choose to have a rather uneventful night in, and so he sat on the end of the sofa reading the paper hoping for product inspiration to strike. George on the other hand were getting ready to go out for the night when came a rhythmic knock on the flat door. No need to ask who it were as they let themselves in, per usual.

"Hello, Boys" y/n bounded into the apartment, flopping casually onto their couch with her head in Freds lap.

He lifted the paper into one hand to better see her smiling face looking cheekily back up at him. His own fond and loving smile shown back. "Hey, Freddie" "Hey, Gorgeous." "HELLO, GEORGE?" She shouted listening intently for his response, "YEAH YEAH, Hello freeloader!" He yells back causing her smile to grow.

"You seem awfully happy, have a good day?" Fred asks as he begins to softly run his hands through y/ns hair out of a developed habit from all their late nights at Hogwarts. "Yeah it was good, just went out with Mason. We had a nice time but I'm just happy to be here with you losers." "Losers? How flattering" George calls from his bedroom. "Oh" at the mention of y/ns partner, Fred puts an end to his hands actions. Turning his attention pointedly back to the paper he'd been reading previously. "And how is 'Mr Fantastic'?" He sneers. "Yeah great...I think. I don't know, he sorta got carried away talking about work. Barely got a word in myself." Y/n chuckles fakely. Sensing her pent up reservations Fred can't help but resume his earlier actions, stroking her hair, but still his eyes stay on the page in front of him. Even if he can't seem to read a single word - too focused on the warmth y/ns body provides pressed against his. Wishing this were how he could spend every night, wrapped up on the couch with her in his arms.

"Alright, children!" George emerges from his bedroom, "I'm off. Don't destroy the place while I'm gone." "Oh that's right!" Y/n sits up excitedly to peer over the back of the sofa. "Tonights the big date" she rests her chin atop her arms as they fold over the backrest looking to George as he collects his wallet and keys. "That's right, Dearest." He ruffles her hair as he strides past to the door, "You're not the only one around here who goes out." He winks before leaving, a quick 'behave!' Called over his shoulder.

Y/n lays back down across Freds lap with a warm smile on her lips. "So...what do you wanna do tonight?"

---

Fred was quietly thankful for George being out of the apartment for the night, the quality time spent with y/n were more than he could possibly ask for. It felt like being back in school, when they'd sneak to the Lake or Astronomy tower past curfew.

They were currently sat on the lounge room floor; a bottle of firewiskey and several stolen sweets from George's stash, scattered in front of them.

"I can't believe you just called me a slag!" Fred shouts as y/n laughed loudly. "W-well it's true." She shrugged, speaking through poorly restrained giggles. "Need I remind you of your time spent with Alice?" "Hey! We had a deep, and meaningful relationship." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah!" "What was her last name?" Freds mouth opened in retort before swiftly closing. Eyes blankly scanning the room in search of the answer before realising he didn't have one. He nodded and shrugged in acknowledgement. "Point taken. Not that you're one to judge" he chuckled, taking a swig from the bottle of whiskey before offering it to her. "Also true." Y/n accepted.

"When was the last time you waited until the third date?" "Honestly?" "No. Lie to me." Y/n rolled her eyes at his question. "Katie Bell." "Noooo...in 6th year?" "Yeah. Go on then, when was the last time you didn't just give it up?" "What, 'Honestly'?" "No. Lie to me." Fred threw an every flavour bean at her for the mockery. "Okay...Mr Fantastic." "Noooo..." "yeah." "I don't believe you." "What!? Why?" "Because you're whipped by the bloke! Surprised he even made it to a first date- OW! Hey, chocolate frogs are NOT for throwing!"

Neither were sure how this odd game of confessions began, perhaps somewhere around the half way mark on their bottle of Whiskey, but the embarrassing dirty little secrets they'd begun to reveal to one another had them both in hysterics as a result.

"So, why not?" "I dunno he just...hasn't got me feeling that way, ya know? Like, he's great, and we have a good time together - I guess. But it's not like this" she guestured between herself and Fred, who was listening intently. "I can't seem to relax and just be myself around him. He doesn't get me laughing till it hurts. Or make me feel safe and comfortable." Fred's lips parted slightly at her words, eyes dancing hopefully back and forth between hers which seemed to hold the same emotion his did in that moment. Was it possible she felt the same way?

"Or ya know, something less sappy." She chuckled, taking a drink from the Whiskey bottle and turning away from him. Whatever moment he'd felt was gone, and reality set in with the familiar bitter pill settling in his mouth which he refused to swallow.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the disappointment that began to creep in. Over her comparison, in wanting someone like him, but in the end, not him. Never him. A sharp breath left him before speaking, "Yeah, well, I ah- I have work in the morning so I'd best call it a night." He avoided eye contact as he stood from his spot on the floor, all joints painfully stiff from the lack of movement.

Y/n was shocked by his abrupt change in attitude. He were no longer smiling, and there was an edge to his voice which wasn't there moments ago.

"Woah, wait...what just happened here? I thought we were having a good time." "We were" y/n stood, taking a tentative step towards him "So, what changed?" "Nothing"

"Fred? Come on, sit back down...please?" She grabbed one of his hands holding it close to her chest as she pouted at him. For a second Fred caught himself smiling at her antics. But only for a second. He shook his head, pulling his hand back from hers and stressfully running it through his hair.

"I can't, love." "Can't what?" Her brows furrowed in confusion. "I just can't sit there and listen to you talk about us; me and him." He snapped looking away from her. "Why? What's that have t-"

"Because I'm fucking in love with you!" Fred shouted, turning back to y/n in anger. "I'm in love with you and sitting there listening to you talk about how I make you feel safe - and how you wish it were him - it's ripping my fucking heart out y/n! But I'm stuck. Because I can't move on but I can't have you. So I just sit here like an idiot, watching you jump from one relationship to another, waiting- hoping that you'll care. I keep hanging onto moments - like right there - thinking there may be the slightest chance you might feel the same way. But you don't. And I can't do it anymore...so don't ask me to."

"Fred-" "I think you should go." "No, Fred I-" "Please! Go."

Y/n stood in place, staring in shock as her body seemed reluctant to move. She were petrified - numb to everything, but the fear swimming within her blood. What would happen if she walked out that door. Would he ever let her back in, or was this it? What if she leaves and loses him forever - and he never knew...

She drew a shaking breath that seemed to give a modicum of control back over her body. Her eyes flickered over the expanse of the boys flat. It were always so cheerful and warm - so why did she feel so cold? Her body trembled as her feet began to move, each step more painful than the last.

As she opened the door every nerve screamed for her to turn back around. Her head turned to the side, mouth falling dry and lips parting to speak though no words came. But the tears did. Rolling sadly down her cheeks as the door sealed shut behind her.

She was gone.

Fred fell to the couch. Any strength that were holding him from the ground disappearing as she did. Slouched over his knees, elbows digging into his thighs whilst he ran his hands through his hair.

He let out a heavy breath, a small relief spreading in his chest from the weight that'd been lifted. But mostly all that came was pain and tears from the heartache he'd tried so hard to shield himself from for all these years.

There's no telling how long he sat there, furiously rubbing at his eyes as the tears refused to stop falling. Not till the familiar crack of apparation reached his ears could he fully hold himself high again. George couldn't see him like this, he wouldn't let him.

With the creaking of the front doors hinges Fred stood, clearing his throat and running a final hand across his puffy, tear stained cheeks. "You're back early, what'd happen you strike out?" He joked, turning only to be met with the equally teary eyes of y/n. Although hers held something else as well - anger. Fred felt cold. What was she doing back here?

"Where do you get the nerve?" She snapped. Freds expression screwed between a mixture of insult and confusion. "Don't you dare, for a second, think you know how I feel." "I do." "No. No you don't! Otherwise you would have realised that I fucking love you too!" "W-what?"

"You think you're the only one? That after all these years together; after all those nights in the Astronomy tower. After all those days you spent by my side as I laid dying in that hospital bed. After all your time spent healing me; that I haven't fallen in love with you?"

"Well...well WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING!?" "WHY DIDN'T YOU!?"

Freds mouth was open but no words were coming. He let out a defeated breath, leaning against the back of the sofa as the weight of everything set in.

"...when?" "I don't know when I fell. Only when I realised. Guess that was the only good thing to come from that evil, pink bitch being around." Y/n chuckled sadly.

"THEN!? you knew then?" "After your first detention. I bandaged your hand and we spent the night together in the common room. You fell asleep in my lap, that's...that's when I knew."

This was all so overwhelming. So much for the quiet night in. Fred stared fixedly at a point on the side wall in thought, lightly shaking his head, unsure of exactly how he felt or what to do. This was everything he'd ever wanted to hear and that scared him a little bit.

"Look, I didn't say anything because you mean too much to me to ever risk jeopardising what we had and I- I could never find the words to..." Y/n swallowed thickly as all emotion caught in her throat. Taking his hand tightly in hers she tried to ground herself within the moment. The action turning Freds gaze back to hers.

"I thought it mattered what I said, or when I said it. Then I realised, all that matters is that you make me happier than I ever thought I could be. I never want to lose that and if you’ll let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you feel the same way. All you have to do is just tell me; what do you want?"

Fred watched as the tears welled within y/ns eyes the longer she spoke, he wondered how they ever managed to be so goddamn obliviously stupid, that neither realised.

A soft smile crept across his lips as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "All I've ever wanted...is you." Y/ns whole body relaxed at his words, head falling in relief. Looking back into his eyes she bit her lip to suppress a giddy, lovestruck, smile.

"You've always had me."

[piercetheigncrance]

“Perhaps now that we’re free”

Snucissa - with focus on Snucius

Set in the aftermath of the war. Snape dies. Or at least he is gone from the mortal world for a period of time. Lucius takes it upon himself to remain by Snape’s bedside until Snape wakes up. Together, Lucius and Narcissa help Snape heal from the would-be fatal injury.

Hurt/Comfort

Chapter 1. (~1750 words)

Darkness. He thought he would feel peace or at least something less daunting than this. But he’d been sorely mistaken. Even now, while staring at eternal nothingness, he swore he could feel the deepest, tethers of the abyss moving in on him and bringing with them dread and grief. He was certain he could feel the unforgiving tendrils of despair slithering closer to him and encircling his limbs then his body, and eventually they would take what was left of his soul. Perhaps then he could have a moment of solace, a reprieve from the guilt and the pain — oh the pain.

And so he lie there, willing the avaricious void to take him quickly, willing fate to have mercy on him for once. Mercy. It was likely more than he deserved but he was done. He’d served his purpose. Surely now he’d earned some damned peace.

Yet, it would seem the unknown had different plans for him.

Pain — sharp and sudden — disrupted the almost tranquil state he was in. Severus’ heart pumped violently, no doubt due to some intervention on the outside. Then he tasted the bitter tang of metal on his tongue but somewhere under that he tasted the faintest hint of herbs. How he longed for nothingness now. And the void called to him. Severus was drawn to the promise of nothingness once more, drawn to the promise of some form of certainty.

Please. Don’t go. You s-selfish bastard. You cannot leave me here!

Was that? — surely not. He was hallucinating. Nothing but another malicious trick from the universe, a way for the world to try and ensnare him into living more miserable years on this earth. He wouldn’t have it. Severus plunged himself closer to the darkness, begging, pleading for the abyss to swallow him whole and leave nothing behind for the mortal world to reach.

His wish was granted.

For how long, he couldn’t say. But time didn’t matter here. Nothing did. Not pain, not loss, not remorse, and surely not Severus Snape.

Eventually, the darkness receded, slowly being coaxed back by some inexplicable force. No! Don’t! Take me with you. Severus begged the void. But it did not yield to his wishes this time.

The pain returned. This time with an emptiness in his core, as if his entrails had been scooped out and fed to the buzzards. He groaned, or perhaps he merely thought he did. He felt heavy and light at the same time; his mind attempting to come to terms with being in something corporeal once more. It was too much and not enough in equal parts. Merlin how he craved the emptiness again.

S-Severus?

There it was again. The voice. The one that’d called to him before the void welcomed him into its arms.

Severus, you’ve come back to me.

A new ache blossomed inside him. Something he couldn’t quite explain. It was subtle but it hurt just the same. It felt as if a hand was wringing his heart. His facial muscles were still confused on how to operate properly so all he managed was a twitch of his brow, eyes searching even behind closed lids for — him.

“You can hear me.”

That time he was certain he’d heard it, not just felt it inside him. There was a hope in the statement but it was almost drowned out by fear. As if Lucius had hoped too many times before to allow it to consume him this time around.

“Please, don’t go again. I know. I know you’re scared. I am too. Merlin, Severus, I need you here.” Lucius could hear the almost fanatic edge to his voice, knowing that the only person outside of his dragon and his wife he would allow himself to express these things for was Severus.

Quicker movement behind his lids, both eyebrows twitching now and lip curving slightly. Pain came again and this time Severus did make a noise, a soft croak of a thing.

“Severus!” Lucius cried. There was absolutely no stopping the relieved and joyous tears that slid down his porcelain cheeks. He lunged forward, cradling Severus’ cheek with his hand. “I’m here, my Prince. I’m here.”

This time, Severus made a small grunt of a noise, an acknowledgement (and a bit of an embarrassed response) to the pet name. Lucius’ hand felt cool against his too hot skin, almost felt like a wonderful healing salve. He felt something warm and wet land on his face and he flinched at the sudden feeling but as it continued, Severus realized they were tears. Merlin. Who else would have wept for him save this man? Cissa, perhaps but not this openly.

Slowly, eyes fluttered open and Severus regretted it almost instantly. He made that croak-like noise again and shut his eyes. It was far too bright all at once.

“Ah..” Lucius called for one of the elves, “darken the room up, you, now. Severus cannot handle the light. And ask Narcissa to call for the nurse then for her to come greet our Severus.”

Our. Even after the years of hearing it, it seemed unreal. Severus feared he’d open his eyes again only to find he’d been swallowed by the void again. He grunted once more, turning as much as he could into Lucius’ hand at his cheek.

“Severus, I know you cannot speak yet but just know we’ve missed you. The months. They’ve not been easy. Draco and Potter... they barely managed to keep me from Azkaban. And you, comatose during all that? I thought I would be locked away and never lay my eyes on your again. It was horrible, Severus. But... you’re here as am I and —“

“As am I..”

The lilting voice, gentle even with the roughness of what Severus could only assume was due to tears, interrupted Lucius’ smooth cadence. That ache was back in his heart and he grunted once more, slowly peeling his eyelids apart. When he realized it was no longer blindingly bright, he opened his eyes again. The sight that greeted him was one he’d never forget. Lucius’ platinum hair was an unkempt curtain, framing his sharp and gorgeous features. Narcissa’s two-toned hair queued up and showing off her striking beauty. Both of their expressions held relief and love — a love so pure he didn’t know what to do with it. He turned further into Lucius’ hand, barely aware of the tear that’d escaped his eye.

Lucius wiped the tear with his free hand, action gentle and loving. Merlin he’d missed him. “Severus, look at me,” he waited a couple of seconds, giving Severus the time to push past whatever was holding him back, then smiled at him, “I knew you would come back to me. I love you, My Prince.” He swallowed, staring at Severus with unfettered affection, letting the man see everything he felt for him — even opening his mind to him if Severus had the energy and ability to look inside at the moment.

Severus felt more tears sliding down his cheek. It wasn’t as many as Lucius had shed, not by a long shot, but it was more than he’d allowed himself to cry in decades. And as he held Lucius’ gaze, he saw the shift behind his eyes, the lack of cold in his gaze — he’d let down his barriers. Severus stared, and stared some more, allowing himself one small peek (really all he could manage with a wand-less legilimens anyway) into Lucius’ thoughts. He saw everything. Light. Darkness. Fear. Love. Strength. Respect. Humility. That last one surprised him, pulling him out of Lucius’ mind and back to reality. He grunted once more, eyes searching Lucius’ until Lucius leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Severus closed his eyes.

“That, My dearest Prince, is because I’ve come to realize, without you, I am nothing.”

The words were uttered right against his skin, seemingly seeping right into his mind and then into the deepest recesses of his soul. He made a small noise, unsure what he would have said if he could. But that didn’t seem to matter anyway.

Narcissa watched, relieved for more than one reason Severus was back amongst the world of the living. Lucius would no longer be a shell of the man he was. He might recover from the atrocities of the war. Severus’ life had not been cruelly cut short and he might finally accept a life with them. And she? She might open up even more to both of them now that she needn’t worry about keeping her dragon safe at the cost of all other relationships.

Lucius pulled back from Severus when he felt the shift in the wards alerting them to floo travel. He whispered another ‘I love you.’ to Severus then stood up, composing himself as much as possible now that there was an outsider in his home. He even pulled his wand out and cast quick cleaning charms on himself and his hair. Presentable enough.

“Is it true?” Evanora rushed into the room, accompanied by one of the elves, and went straight to Severus’ bedside. “When did this happen?” She began her examination of him, being careful not to jostle him too much. Severus was thinner but they’d been taking excellent care of him so his body was in the best shape possible, all things considered.

“But two minutes before Narcissa called for you.”

Narcissa stepped closer to the bed too, now that Lucius had his moment, she wanted to touch Severus too. Dainty fingers caressed his jaw then trailed up to his hooked nose. He was gorgeous. With all his flaws, he was stunning and she only pulled her hand away when Evanora gestured for her to get out of the way. She went to stand next to Lucius, fingers sliding against his waiting palm.

“This is... incredible.” Evanora cast a few more charms, watching Severus for reactions and looking to the Malfoys, “has he consumed anything since he’s been awake?”

Severus made a grunting noise. He always hated being talked about as if he wasn’t in the room. Gaze hard and cold now as he looked at the nurse, one of the best if he remembered correctly — then again, the Malfoys wouldn’t have it any other way.

“My apologies. Have you had a potion or water?”

Lucius smirked despite himself, wanting to laugh at the fact that Severus was already feeling enough like himself to scowl at people. “He has not, we did not want to risk it. It was why I called for you,” Lucius took the liberty of answering for Severus.

Severus cut Lucius a grateful look before going back to just staring at Evanora. He stayed still as possible as the exam was completed. It took longer than Lucius wanted, he could tell because the wizard kept fidgeting and huffing under his breath. Malfoy senior was never very patient. He gave a partial smile at the thought.

Narcissa kept her hands clasped together, cerulean orbs fixed on the proceedings as if to ensure the mediwitch would not dare hurt their Severus. She let out a soft breath once Evanora finally stepped away and went to her briefcase.

Evanora set out a couple vials of potions on the nightstand along with some tea ingredients then turned to Malfoy senior. She handed him a piece of parchment. “Give it some time. I have provided one vial of girding potion, one of invigorating draught, one sleeping draught, and a draught of peace. I trust you can make more of these if necessary and have the skills to make the other healing potions shall you need them. I would abstain from giving him dreamless sleep just yet as he was, for all intents and purposes, dead for some time. If he is having trouble adjusting, please provide sleeping draughts or calming draughts. He will need time to move on to solid foods. For now, a diet of water, teas, and puréed foods if he can stomach them. Exercise is to start after he is able to sit up on his own. No sooner. I will stop by in a week to check his progress.” She gave one final look to Severus and nodded at him, smiling as if they were old friends, “it is wonderful to see you awake, Mr. Snape. I hope the recovery comes more smoothly. Good day,” she showed herself to the door, an elf appearing to escort her back to the den right on cue.

Lucius let out a deep breath, smiling as he brought Narcissa’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss there. They both moved closer to Severus then, taking a seat at the edge of the bed to watch over him.

Severus, for his part, was already exhausted. He blinked slowly, fighting to keep his eyes open.

“Sleep, My Prince. We’ll be here when you wake.”

~~~~~~~~

A/N: I’m not sure if I will continue this on here or on AO3. Either way, I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter! Feel free to leave comments/concerns. Thank you!